Presently he began probing with his fingers--a painful process which the unconscious trooper could not feel. “Him plenty bad hurt, Yellow Hair,” said Cayuse, “but bullet him no stay in wound. Umph! Me fix um.” Going to the edge of the water. Cayuse wrung out the handkerchief; then, coming back, he bathed the wound. From a medicine-bag swinging at his belt he took a brown powder and sprinkled it plentifully over the wound. Next the medicine-bag yielded a compactly rolled strip of soft doeskin. The strip was unrolled and passed completely around Patterson’s body, the ends brought tightly together and fastened with a long, sharp thorn. The clothing was then replaced over the wound and a drink from the boy’s canteen was forced between the sergeant’s lips. Complete rest, assisted by the cooling draft, soon caused Patterson’s wits to return. “Where’s the despatches?” were his first words. “They’re safe, sergeant,” said Dell reassuringly. “I’ve got you to thank for that, Miss Dauntless.” “We’ve both got Little Cayuse to thank for it.” “Who’s Little Cayuse?” “The Indian boy beside you. He is Buffalo Bill’s pard.” “Then he must be the clear quill,” muttered Patterson. “Any pard o’ Buffler Bill’s is ace-high with me. How did he happen to be around that hogback?” “That’s just what I want to know,” said Dell. “From the despatch the colonel received, I supposed that Buffalo Bill, Nomad, and Cayuse were with the escort taking Bascomb from Phœnix to Fort Apache. That despatch said that all the escort had been killed by Geronimo and his hostiles, but I had a feeling that the murderous work could not have extended to the scout and his pards.” Little Cayuse gave a disgusted grunt and squatted on the ground by the water-hole, his knees up under his chin and his hands twined about them. “Where’s Pa-e-has-ka, Cayuse?” inquired Dell, impatient because of the boy’s provoking silence. “Mebbyso Bonita,” answered Cayuse. “Weren’t you, and Buffalo Bill, and Nomad with the soldiers who were taking Bascomb to Fort Apache?” “We leave Phœnix all same with escort. Pa-e-has-ka meet pony-soldier from Bowie. Pony-soldier say something to Pa-e-has-ka, and Pa-e-has-ka go with pony-soldier to Bonita. Wuh.” “What about you and Nomad?” Cayuse was silent for a space, breathing hard and looking gloomily around. “Wolf-killer and Cayuse go on with escort,” said he finally. “Two pony-soldiers in escort; two pony-soldiers, Wolf-killer, and Cayuse--him four _por todos_; five you count Bascomb.” Again the boy relapsed into gloomy silence, his hands clenching about his upraised knees and his black eyes smoldering in the half-light. “What happened?” asked Dell.