With a grunt he withdrew himself from Dell’s arms. “How does it happen I find you here, Cayuse?” went on the overjoyed Dell. The fact that Cayuse _was_ there proved that he, at least, had escaped the slaughter of Bascomb’s escort; and, from this fact, the girl argued that Buffalo Bill and Nomad had likewise escaped. “No time for powwow,” returned Cayuse gruffly. “Plenty ’Pache in hills. ’Pache who git away tell um other ’Pache. We ride quick, or mebbyso we lose um scalp. Where you go, Yellow Hair?” “To Bonita.” “Who white soldier?” “A trouper from Grant with important despatches. He is baldly wounded. We must take him with us.” Cayuse flashed his eyes over the limp trooper. “Wuh!” said he. “Yellow Hair wait till Cayuse git um pinto.” The boy whirled and darted down the slope and into the brush again. When he returned he was mounted on a calico cayuse--his own horse, Navi. There were two slain Apaches on the hogback, and between them Little Cayuse halted Navi, looking from one Indian to the other, and his hand hesitating about the handle of a scalping-knife that swung from his belt. “Cayuse!” called Dell. The boy turned his eyes upon the girl. “You know what Pa-e-has-ka told you about taking scalps?” went on the girl. “Wuh!” Little Cayuse withdrew his hand hastily from the knife and dug his heels into Navi’s sides. His Piute nature craved the scalps, for on one of them he was entitled to a second eagle-feather; but the better side of his nature had listened to the teachings of the king of scouts, although profiting by the teachings reluctantly. “Come!” said he, taking the lead and crossing the crest of the hogback. Dell, leading Patterson’s mount, followed. Into and through the chaparral the little Piute led the girl and the helpless trooper, selecting ground whose flinty soil would leave no trail visible in the daylight. As the boy rode, his eyes glimmered like an owl’s into the surrounding darkness, and he listened at every step like a coyote. Dell yearned to be asking Cayuse questions about Buffalo Bill, and old Nomad, and the rescue of Bascomb by Geronimo’s bucks, but she knew that Cayuse just then would not talk. It was close on to an hour later that the boy called a halt. They had reached a water-hole. Probably Cayuse would not have halted even then had he not discovered that Patterson was in a pitiable condition of weakness, and that Dell was obliged to ride at his side and support him with her arm. “Ugh!” said Cayuse, slipping from Navi’s back. “Pony-soldier heap bad hurt. We give um little rest. No like make um stop, but we got to.” Patterson was unroped from his saddle and lifted down. After he had been stretched out beside the water-hole, Cayuse unbuckled the belt and pulled aside the blouse and the clothing beneath. Removing the red-soaked handkerchief, he lowered his eyes to within a few inches of the wound, and examined it as well as the moonlight would permit.