Buffalo Bill removed the lariats from two of the ponies, and giving each a sharp slap sent them scurrying out on the plain. “I hope they’ll get a good rest and take on fat before the Indians pick them up,” he said. The scout and his party struck the valley to the northward of the encampment, and came to the little stream which Hickok had found the previous night. In a thicket they left the horses and moved down toward the twinkling fires. When near enough they saw that it was a special occasion in the camp, and they kept close to the stream because of the growth along its banks. They saw the dancing, and heard the shouting of the warriors, and then they drew near enough to discover that it was the celebration of a successful buffalo hunt. For some time they watched the animated night scene, and Cayuse was just stealing away intending to enter the heart of the camp to hear what was the gist of the harangues, when there was a commotion only a few rods from them down the stream, followed by the report of a rifle. Instantly the scene in the camp changed from riotous hilarity to one of consternation and excited inquiries. Everywhere there were shouts and running about. The scout heard the pounding of horses’ hoofs, and then out on the plain came a taunting laugh, followed by a shout in a well-known voice: “Come on, you yowling devils, if you wish, but I bid you a cheerful good night!” “Wild Bill!” ejaculated the scout and Nomad in a breath. There was scurrying to the ponies, and a yelling mob rode off in pursuit, but soon gave it up and returned. By the time the excitement was over and explanations made, Little Cayuse had wormed into the heart of the camp, had donned a Sioux headgear and blanket, and stolidly sat with some of the elder warriors as they smoked and awaited the speeches of the chiefs. Cayuse understood enough of the Yankton Sioux tongue to follow the trend of comment, and his presence seemed to arouse no suspicion. Buffalo Bill remained concealed in the thicket by the stream, and awaited events, and events came all too rapidly for comfort. Suddenly the pards heard a dull thud and a grunt behind them, and realized that an Indian had jumped the stream, and was coming through the thicket directly upon them. The scout touched Nomad as a signal to remain quiet, while he half arose. As the Sioux’s next step would have brought him in contact with the scout, the latter straightened to his full height and grasped the red’s throat. The Indian was large and powerful, and though taken wholly by surprise put up a tremendous fight. He could not let out the warning yell that gurgled in his throat, but the sound of the struggle in the small growth attracted the attention of a group of bucks at the nearest fire. Snatching up brands, these fellows ran to investigate. “Snarlin’ catermounts an’ ther ring-tail heifercats, Buffler, ther hull kerboodle’s bruk loose kerwallop! Knock ther red on ther head an’ git yer guns!”