The utter impossibility of entering the village without discovery was apparent to the experienced scout. Though he wanted to aid the youth, and also the girl, he saw that the attempt would have small chance of success, and if it failed his own fate would, no doubt, be sealed. Yet it required stern self-repression to remain inactive, knowing what was going on so near him, and the peril of the prisoners. As Buffalo Bill lay close against the ground, screened by the darkness, he saw small bodies of Blackfeet leave the village, and knew they had been sent out to scout about, and, if possible, to locate the white men who were supposed to be near. In going and coming these Blackfeet passed close to the scout; so close that he could hear some of their low-spoken words and the soft crunching of their moccasins. From what they said he discovered that Crazy Snake was not in the village, but was expected soon, and that the prisoners were being held until his coming. “That’s good!” was his thought. “Crazy Snake wants the girl for his squaw, and these bloodthirsty rascals believe that he will give up Clayton to the torture as soon as he arrives. Before that time comes perhaps I can do something.” He slipped away from the village, and soon was hastening over the backward way, hoping to get in communication now with Nomad’s men and hurry them forward, and also eager to find Pawnee Bill. However, he discovered that parties of Blackfeet were coming and going in the trail, and to avoid running into them he left it and entered the hills. This slowed his progress, and morning dawned before he had gone very far. Then, as he went on, he was given a crushing surprise. He saw old Nomad, mounted on Nebuchadnezzar, in the midst of a body of Blackfeet commanded by Crazy Snake. “Nomad a prisoner!” he said, with a groan. “What in blazes will happen next?” CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CAPTURE OF THE MEDICINE MAN. Unable to do anything to aid Nomad, who was surrounded by a strong body of warriors, Buffalo Bill continued his retreat toward the point where he hoped to, at least, find Pawnee Bill. That sight of Nomad borne away by the redskins inclined him to think that the trapper had failed in his effort to get fighting men from the town. But when he found Pawnee Bill, he found also the wild range riders whom Nomad had led into the hills. They had met Pawnee Bill, and had been waiting Nomad’s return, unaware that he had fallen into the hands of the Indians. They greeted the noted scout with cheers. He was known personally to most of them, and by reputation to all. But their cheers changed to angry calls for vengeance when they learned what had befallen Nomad; and they asked the scout to lead them toward the village at once.