Once through the cañon, and the trail led down into a beautiful valley in which was the village of old Iron Eyes. Lucille uttered a cry as the view burst upon her, for, through the valley ran a mountain stream, upon both sides of which, for several miles, were the tepees of the Indians, the scattered village of the red men. The valley was dotted with thousands of ponies, and among the tepees were visible many women and children. Warriors were riding about, youths were mounted upon bareback ponies, others were playing games, children were bathing in the stream, and squaws were busy getting the evening meal. At the base of the hills on either side was heavy timber, and above the village towered the mountain ranges. “What a view for an artist!” cried Lucille. “Yes, it must strike you strangely, Miss Fallon.” “It does; but you did not answer my question?” “What was that?” “I asked you, after we came through the camp of braves, who that young chief was?” “He is called Death Face, and is the next chief in power to old Iron Eyes.” “He is very young?” “Not over twenty-two, I should say.” “And yet holds such power?” “He is a born fighter, a plotter, a soldier, and he has won his way up, young as he is.” “How is it that he speaks English so well?” “Only a few minutes ago he told me that he was taught by a renegade white man and his family.” “And also learned from him, I suppose, not to war against women and children. He could set you a good example, chief.” “I follow my own inclinations, Miss Fallon.” “So I have discovered. But in what part of this village am I to find refuge?” “Up at the head of the valley, in the cabin I spoke of.” “There must be a couple of thousand Indians here, at least.” “Double that number and more, for the village is five miles long, has some twelve hundred tepees, and can put out a force to defend it of two thousand warriors. Then there are several other contingent villages in these mountains that claim Iron Eyes as chief. It would be a sad day for any force of soldiers to invade these mountains, Miss Fallon, unless they came several thousand strong.” “That was just what I was thinking,” answered Lucille. As they rode into the village the squaws and children rushed toward them to see the newcomer. But a few words from the outlaw prevented any rudeness, for they held no sympathy for the fair-faced captive. Lucille paled at sight of them, but remained calm, and rode on by the side of the outlaw, whom she could not but now regard as her protector. Up through the village they rode, the girl’s fears gradually giving place to interest, until at the upper end of the valley, under the shelter of a heavily-wooded ridge, the mountaintop, there were visible a number of tepees apart from the others.