“They have no plunder or scalps, but they have not been on a hunt, or they would have their game with them. “Then, too, there is so much game in this country they would not have to go after it.” “They’ve been on a war trail near some of the forts, sir, and look as though they had been worsted in a fight,” said the corporal. “Yes, that is about it. Doubtless they have been in the neighborhood of Fetterman, as they came up the right bank of the Big Horn.” “Do you observe any wounded among them, sir?” “Yes, now I am looking for wounded I see a number who appear to have been used rather severely in a fight. I see that they appear in no hurry now, having crossed the Big Horn and struck the trail of their village; but their arrival there will cause wailing instead of rejoicing---- Holy smoke! Look there!” Buffalo Bill pointed toward the other side of the cañon, where, quietly walking out upon the plain, was no less a personage than the giant negro, Black Bill. He had come out of the cañon, and was walking deliberately down toward the Indian camp, the latter not yet having discovered him. “Blast that darky! He will ruin us!” cried Corporal Milk, as he looked toward the spot where Buffalo Bill had pointed and discovered Black Bill going deliberately toward the Indian camp. “He will be killed if we don’t save him. Run, corporal, and call the boys!” cried Buffalo Bill. He was about to obey, when the sergeant came running up, and not far behind him were the other scouts. “Do you see that nigger, chief?” “Yes.” “He’s mad, or a traitor. He was there with us up the cañon, and said he could scare the reds to death. Then he got up and walked away, and soon after we discovered that he had gone toward the other side of the cañon. We followed, and you see what he has done!” “Yes; perhaps he has got us into a hole from which there is no escape. Stand ready, men, to see what the outcome will be.” The men were all ready for a fight or a race, as it might turn out for them. Every eye was upon the negro, who was now too far off to recall. He was walking calmly along, straight toward the Indian camp, and they, strange to say, had not yet discovered him. They were still broiling venison steak on the end of sticks and eating it in a way that showed their hunger by no means satiated. Feeling secure where they were, confident that they would not be pursued that far into their country, and not knowing that their village could not be over half a day’s journey ahead of them, they were taking matters coolly, to recover from the strain they had evidently been under for some time. Still the giant negro guide walked on, while the scouts could only stand ready for action, watch him, and wait for the finale. He appeared not in the least disturbed as he moved toward the Indian camp. But suddenly there was heard a wild, almost unearthly cry.