“How?” called Cayuse, shaking hands with the scout and his pards, and holding Nomad’s hand rather longer than he did the others. “How yerself, ye leetle fistful o’ glory?” demanded Nomad. “You an’ me, Cayuse, hev got ter git tergether, afore long, an’ beg each other’s parding. You done me a mean trick, an’ I done you ther same, although neither o’ us meant et. Everythin’ hes turned out all ter ther good, howsumever, so I reckons we kin call ther account square, hey?” “Wuh,” answered Cayuse. “Where have you been since we separated, boy?” asked the scout, when they were all riding on together toward the horses. “Water heap bad medicine,” said Cayuse. “Me forget heap lots about last sleep; just begin to remember when sun come up. Me up on hill, looking down in valley. See heap cayuse, plenty others more than Bear Paw, Silver Heels, and Navi. No savvy so many cayuses. No see um Injuns ’round, although plenty sure cayuses Apache cayuses. Me wait on hill. Then me come down in valley. Pa-e-has-ka come for Bear Paw, I know. So I stay.” “Is that all?” asked the scout. “Wuh!” Buffalo Bill was a little disappointed, as he had been hoping Cayuse might be able to throw some light on the Apaches who had come to the valley and had plainly drunk of the water in the pool. When the mutineers had visited the place and put out their horses, however, Cayuse had been under the influence of Geronimo’s drug himself. So it was not to be supposed that he had discovered anything. When the detachment came near enough to give the Indian cayuses a good sizing, Doyle sat back in his saddle and laughed loudly. “Say, but this is a caution!” he cried. “How do you mean?” “Why, I and my men bag these horses, Cody, see? We take them to Bonita and keep them there. When the Apaches get over the effects of the drugged water, they’ll come here to find their mounts--and they’ll be disappointed. Nothing takes the tuck out of a renegade like foot-work under a hot sun. Mark what I say, every last one of this detachment of original reservation-jumpers will flock into Bowie and give themselves up. Oh, I don’t know! There’s more ways than one to skin a rabbit.” Further satisfaction was awaiting the scout and the girl, for they discovered their riding-gear close to the place where they had left it. Although it was quite evident that the gear had been overhauled by the Apaches, nothing had been taken away. “Geronimo’s doctored water got in its work, Dell,” laughed the scout, “before the Apaches could exercise reason enough to get away with our horses and their trappings.” “Such a cross-play of fortune couldn’t happen more than once in a thousand times!” declared Dell.