Why some one else--the guide of the party, for instance--had not been sent on this mission Buffalo Bill had been unable to find out from Black Bill. Starting out alone with Black Bill, and having arrived, as it were, almost upon the scene to which the negro had wished to bring him, Buffalo Bill thought that, perhaps, he would tell him more than he thus far had done, and to encourage him to do so he had said: “Well, you think we are near the Lost Valley?” “Sure, sah; very sartin.” “What do you tell by?” “Well, sah, dere is trees, and mountains, and valleys dat looks familiarlike, though I can’t jist place ’em; but I is sartin I has seen ’em before.” “Did you ever go far from the valley?” “Not very, sah; but I hunted ’round, maybe ten and a dozen miles away.” “Suppose you find some spot that you recall thoroughly, will you go right to the valley?” “Well, Massa Bill, I’ll go as near as I kin, and then let you decide what is ter be done.” “All right; keep your eyes open, and see if you can find any place you remember to have seen before.” “Yes, sah; I’m a-lookin’ hard, sah.” They went on together for some miles, and the valley they were following opened into a larger one. As they came out into the larger valley, the guide halted suddenly, rubbed his eyes, looked about him, and said earnestly: “Massa Buf’ler Bill, I knows whar I is.” “What do you recognize about this valley?” “If I is right, sah, you see dem cliffs ’way yonder?” “Yes.” “Dem is over de cañon where dey used ter git gold.” The negro started off in a way that told the scout that he was in earnest, that he had certainly got his bearings from some familiar scene before him. He kept up a rapid pace, Buffalo Bill keeping close by his side. The cliffs loomed up nearer and nearer, and at last the scout and the negro were almost under their shadow. “You see dat break yonder in de cliffs?” “Yes.” “It is a cañon, sah. It runs back from where you see de open place, and dere big springs yonder dat flow down the cañon, and dere whar dey found de gold.” The negro went forward alone, and began to climb up the steep rocks to the break in the cliff. Watching him, Buffalo Bill saw him peep cautiously over, as though he expected to see an enemy beyond. A moment he remained thus, and then came a distant report of a rifle that echoed and reëchoed among the cliffs, and Buffalo Bill saw the negro sink down upon his face as though dead. Buffalo Bill was fairly startled at what he beheld. He had not thought of danger there to himself or to the negro. The shot had come so unexpectedly that, for a moment, he did not know where to look for an enemy. It appeared to have ended the life of the guide, for he had fallen in a heap and lay motionless, like a dead man. But the scout was not one to hesitate long when action was needed, or to allow a crime to go unpunished when he could bring the perpetrators to book.