“It’s resky, but not so resky as you stayin’ hyar, even if somebody stayed hyar with ye, Givens,” said Nomad. “I reckon I kin help ye stick ter ther back of my ole hoss, and we’ll git ye back to whar ther rangers aire waitin’, and then have some of ’em stay by ye, er git ye to ther town. I never deserts an ole pard, Givens, and I’ll not desert you.” Nomad got Nebuchadnezzar, and with some difficulty helped the sick man to mount to the horse’s back. Then he took the rein, and, with Givens swaying weakly in the saddle, he set out with him, striking the backward trail and hurrying on toward the camp of the rangers. Meanwhile, Crazy Snake had not been inactive; he had drawn his cordon of Blackfeet warriors and descended into the trail. Suddenly rifle shots rang out and bowstrings twanged. Givens fell, with a bullet in his brain, tumbling heavily to the ground. Bullets cut through Nomad’s clothing, and an arrow struck and stuck in his beaver-skin cap, its feathered end projecting from the fur, forming a strange-looking plume. Nomad tried to turn Nebuchadnezzar around in the trail, but the Blackfoot rush was made too quickly; and, though he went down fighting, he was subdued, and made a prisoner, being beaten to the earth before he submitted. Nebuchadnezzar pawed and squealed, rushed on the Blackfeet with his greenish teeth clicking and snapping, and lunged out with his twinkling heels; but Nebuchadnezzar, too, was made a prisoner. Nomad’s effort to aid a needy friend had made him a prisoner of the Blackfeet. CHAPTER XXVII. AGAIN ON THE TRAIL. Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill floated on down the cañon river until they came to the open land beyond the “tunnel,” where they discovered indications that Blackfeet had been on the shores there not long before. This made them wary; they could not be sure that all the Blackfeet were gone. Accordingly, they concealed their canoe, and searched the ground along the shore. Bruce Clayton was with them, using his eyes as well as he could, but unable to “read” what he saw on the ground, seeing but hoof marks of horses, and some moccasin tracks in the damp soil by the margin of the river. “They have retreated toward the village,” said Buffalo Bill. “Their village lies farther down the stream, and they have gone in that direction. The girl was taken with them, evidently.” Clayton wanted to hurry on and do something at once to rescue her, but the wary scouts were not sure this was wise. They feared ambushes, and knew, also, that they were not in force strong enough to take the girl from the village. Whatever they did they must do by craft. Aside from this, Buffalo Bill was expecting soon the coming of old Nick Nomad, who had gone for assistance. He now sent Pawnee Bill back to meet Nomad’s force and guide it on, and, with the anxious young lover, he began to follow the trail of the Blackfeet.