“Wait! Let us see if there are more, as I have told my red brother,” he observed, and they went on to another path. Sure enough, there, grimly camped beside the way, was a second brave, likewise one of those who associated more closely with Boyd Bennett, the renegade. Again they went on, going cautiously now, for it was past sunrise, and found a third watchman. These plainly were not sentinels placed to guard particularly the camp itself. Those were much nearer the village. These red men were stationed thusly for a particular purpose. “Is my red brother satisfied that the Long Hair spoke truly?” asked the scout of the young brave. “Pa-e-has-ka is of single tongue. He does not lie. But Red Knife will first go to Chief Oak Heart and ask him if, by his instruction, these men were sent to bar the way to the lodges of the Sioux. If the great chief knows naught of it, then must Death Killer explain.” “Tell Oak Heart to remove these guards and Long Hair will appear before him as he promised the White Antelope,” said Cody seriously. Red Knife solemnly shook hands with him. Although the young brave had, by his own confession, killed Dick Danforth, the scout had been forced to make use of him. Now he gave him a word of warning: “Although Red Knife is now Long Hair’s friend, and Long Hair has given him of his own strong medicine that Red Knife might be a man among his people, there is still a feud between them. It was Red Knife’s hand that killed the young white chief, whom Long Hair loved. When next we meet let Red Knife beware.” “It is just,” admitted the Indian solemnly. “Let us go.” He led Cody then to the hidden path which would enable the scout to pass all of Death Killer’s sentinels and, indeed, most of the guards of the village, and so ride almost into the encampment itself without being seen. Then, without a word further, the young brave turned his face toward his father’s lodge. Buffalo Bill sat down and smoked his pipe while he watched him along the trail into the valley. He could watch Red Knife for a long distance before the young man came out upon the bluff which overlooked the valley where the encampment lay. Until that time he could not be seen from below. Suddenly Buffalo Bill saw a figure among the rocks near the path which Red Knife was following. It was of another Indian, but the scout could not see the man’s face--not even with the aid of his field-glasses. Red Knife seemed totally unconscious of the other’s presence until suddenly the stranger leaped before him and stood in his path. “Hello!” muttered Cody. “What’s all this?” It was evident that the two redskins conversed excitedly. What they said, of course, the scout could not even guess. Indians are usually so self-repressed that the scout could not judge at this distance whether they spoke angrily or in the most pleasant way together.