Every eye was upon Cody, every ear waiting to catch his words. But he had taken his field glass from its case and was already surveying the river, the valley, the Indian village through it. What he was thinking his face did not reveal. “Ain’t yer goin’ ter skeer ’em, Massa Buf’ler Bill?” asked the guide. “You mean by playing ghosts, Bill?” “Yes, sah.” “There’s safety in numbers, and I don’t think they would scare so much as we would wish them to.” “Jist try it, sah.” “We will try it when a plan I have fails, when we have to do so.” “Yes, sah.” “Night is not very far off, none of the Indians will be coming up here at this hour, and we can follow down the range until we get opposite to where their ponies are. “From there we can see where the guards are, and how many if, indeed, they have any watching their ponies. “Then as soon as it is dark we can go down into the valley, mount some of the best ponies and stampede the whole herd.” The scouts all gave a chuckle of delight. “We can dash away with them, and keep pushing them along. “Of course, as you know, some of the braves will have ponies near their tepees, and will follow, but they won’t see us, and, if there are many of them, we can push on ahead of the herd, if the pace becomes too hot. “In this way we can get by these redskins without being seen. “The Indians will not know what stampeded their ponies, and we will leave them to find out the best way they can.” This plan of Buffalo Bill met with the approval of each man, though Black Bill seemed to regret not being able to get a chance to “skeer dem red Injuns silly,” as he expressed it. Down the range, out of sight of the Indian camp, went the scouts, until Buffalo Bill halted at a spot just above where the herd of ponies were feeding. Finding a hiding place, the chief swept the valley with his glass, and soon discovered that there were only a couple of youths in charge of the herd, and they were seated upon their ponies in the shadow of the trees along the river bank. “There are boys in charge, pards, but soon after night braves will come to relieve them, we may be sure, so we will be ready to move the moment the shadows deepen in the valley. “Three of you go to the farther end of the herd and mount, and we will go to the end near the village, so when you start they’ll follow under our driving. “You take the lead, corporal, and keep the ponies going at full speed when they get started.” The men understood the plan, and in half an hour it was dark. Of course, supper was not to be thought of then, and, while Corporal Milk led the way to the lower end of the herd, Buffalo Bill and those with him rounded up the ponies feeding nearest to the Indian village. Good ponies were caught without trouble, the scouts mounted, and, with their lariats for bridles, began to urge the herd forward.