In vain did Chief Oak Heart try to check him. He would have flung himself from the horse’s back, but the creature was so swift of foot and the ground was so broken here, that such an act would have assured Oak Heart’s instant death. Besides, being the great chief of his tribe, Oak Heart had bound himself to the horse that, if wounded or killed, he would not be lost to his people which--according to Indian belief--would be shame. Oak Heart had lost his scalping-knife, and could not cut the rawhide lariat that held him fast. He writhed, yelling maledictions in Sioux upon the horse; but he could neither check the brute nor unfasten the lariat. His warriors soon saw Chief Oak Heart’s predicament, and they charged back to his rescue. The White Antelope led them on, for she was as brave as her father. Buffalo Bill had been first to see the difficulty into which the chief had gotten himself, and springing down from the platform he threw himself into the saddle, shouted for the gates to be opened, and spurred his horse out of the fort. “Don’t shoot the girl!” the scout yelled to the soldiers lining the walls above him. “Have a care for the girl!” But there was scarcely chance for the whites to fire at all at the oncoming White Antelope and her party, before Buffalo Bill was beside the big white charger and the struggling king of the Sioux. Out flashed the scout’s pistol, and he presented it to the red man’s head. “Oak Heart, you are my prisoner! Yield yourself!” he cried, in the Sioux tongue. At the same moment he seized the thong by which the Indian was wrenching at the jaw of the white horse, snatched it from Oak Heart’s grasp, and gave the big charger his head. The white horse sprang forward for the open gate of the fort, and Buffalo Bill’s mount kept abreast of him. The redskins dared not fire at the scout for fear of killing Oak Heart. A volley from the soldiery sent the would-be rescuers of the chief back to cover. Only the beautiful girl, White Antelope, was left boldly in the open, shaking her befeathered spear and trying to rally her people to the charge. The white men honored Buffalo Bill’s request and did not shoot at her, or the Sioux would have lost their mascot as well as their great chieftain. In a moment the scout with his prisoner dashed through the open gates, which were slammed shut and barred amid the deafening acclamations of the garrison. Major Baldwin was on hand to grasp Buffalo Bill’s hand again, and as he wrung it he cried: “Another brave deed to your credit, Cody! It was cleverly done.”