“Sure thing. Our capture of Oak Heart will stir ’em up worse than ever.” “They won’t wait until dark, then?” “I don’t believe so. That half-wild girl, White Antelope, will give them no peace until they try to rescue her father.” “But you warned my men not to shoot her.” “That’s right. She’s Injun now,” said Buffalo Bill sadly. “But her mother wasn’t a redskin, and perhaps some day, when old Oak Heart passes in his chips, she may be gotten away from the savages.” “You knew her mother, then, Cody?” “Yes. And a noble woman she was.” “Yet she went to the wigwam of a dirty redskin?” “Ah! you don’t know the circumstances. It is a sad story, Major Baldwin, and some day I’ll tell it to you. But don’t blame the mother--or the unfortunate child of this strange union. _She_ would make a beautiful woman if she were civilized, cross-blood though she be.” “Well, well! It’s a sad case, as you say. I’ll pass the word to the officers to instruct their men to spare the White Antelope wherever they may meet her.” “Thank you,” said Buffalo Bill simply. “My scouts already know my wishes on the subject. And now, major, I must get ready for my dash through that mob again.” “It seems a wicked shame to let you go, Cody! Yet--we can’t beat off many more charges even with this access of ammunition.” “You surely can’t. I must go.” “You have devised a plan, I can see.” “I have, sir.” “Well, sit here and tell me. The mess cook is preparing a hearty meal for you. You can talk while you eat, Cody.” “Thanks for your thoughtfulness, major. I _am_ a little slim-waisted, not daring to build a fire since yesterday.” “Just like you to neglect your own needs when others demand your services.” “Ha, ha!” laughed the scout. “I had some desire to keep my scalp, as well. The reds are too thick hereabout to make fire-building a safe occupation.” “Well, sir, your plan?” queried the officer. “Why, it came to me when I saw old Oak Heart mixed up with that blessed old white horse, you know. That old fellow is an ancient friend of mine. I recognized him at once. And he never did love an Injun. I wonder how Oak Heart managed to ride him at all.” “The horse, you mean?” “Sure. Well, as for the chief, we have him; but we never can make terms with his tribe for his release.” “You think not?” “I _know_ so. The chief is a true Sioux. He would never allow his people to make terms for his life. You could hack him to pieces on that scaffolding yonder, where all the reds could see, and it would not change the attitude of the crew a mite, excepting to make them more bloodthirsty.” “Yes?” “So we can’t make terms with him.” “What do you advise, then?” “That you have a talk with Oak Heart. He understands English very well, and what he doesn’t understand I’ll interpret for him.” “Go ahead, Cody,” said the major, laughing. “What are my further instructions?” “Why, sir----”