The house was silent and deserted; nevertheless, he made a cautious approach, fearing treachery. When sure that no foes lay in wait, he entered the house, finding the kitchen door wide open. The looting Indians had gutted the kitchen, taking everything that struck their fancy. The rest of the house they had not disturbed, there being nothing in it that they apparently cared for. Buffalo Bill visited the room through whose floor he had made that violent plunge. As when he had made his previous examinations of it, the hidden door was so cleverly concealed that he could not find it at first; but feeling sure now that such a door was there, he persisted, and by and by he discovered that by setting his foot in a certain place and stamping in a certain way the door dropped downward, revealing the black hole beneath. He examined the door and the tunnel minutely, being compelled to spring the door open again, as it was weighted in such a manner that it closed instantly after being opened. As he made his critical examination, he saw that there was a possibility that the girl had not known of the door, or intended to trap him; she might have set her foot on that particular spot by accident and thus opened the door, unintentionally precipitating him thus into the tunnel. Yet he could not make himself think she had done it without intention. When he had made a thorough search through the big house and had found no one there, he went out to the stables. His own horse was gone, but old Nebuchadnezzar, the horse belonging to Nomad, remained, and now whinnied the scout a recognition. The Indians had not deemed old Nebuchadnezzar worth taking away. Indeed, the old horse would not have won favorable attention from any judge of horses. He was raw-boned, old, and seemingly had seen his best days. Yet Buffalo Bill remembered the good traits of Nebuchadnezzar, and looked on him almost with affection. The scout recalled now that since the evening before he had not seen Pizen Kate. Giving attention to the needs of the horse, by watering and feeding him, Buffalo Bill left him in the stall, and went out to look over the grounds. He found that the unshod hoofs of the Indian ponies had not made heavy prints in the soil, yet their marks were plain enough. “They are the Redskin Rovers,” was his conclusion. “That is the only band operating in this section, or near it. Whether half of them, or more, are white men, I don’t know.” He found that the Indian pony tracks came together some distance beyond the house, and that here a tolerably plain trail led away toward the hills. Having worked that out, the scout returned to the stables and brought forth Nebuchadnezzar. The old bridle and saddle, and the saddle pouches used by Nomad, had been left undisturbed, and these the scout put on the horse.