“We’ll have to take that chance. Somebody has got to die this day--why not us?” demanded the courageous scout. “Let me have some of your cavalry as they come up. There’s the head of the column!” “Go, and God bless you, my brave fellow! Take all the men whose horses can stand a hard run,” said the gallant captain. He signaled the head of the column forward at once. The troops had already heard the firing, and were eager to get into action. “You’ll have to bring your artillery and ambulances down into the valley by yonder ridge, captain,” said the scout, pointing out the tongue of rocky land over which he had raced the day before with his pack-load of ammunition for the beleaguered fort. “From there you can sweep the valley to the very gates of the fort, and likewise you can cover the exit of the cañon through which the ambushing party will like enough pour in a short time.” “Good! I’ll make a note of that,” declared the officer. “There, Cody, are your men. Pick out the horses you think will be able to keep somewhere near your whitey. Every man of them is eager to attend, I promise you!” This was true enough, as the scout well knew. In five minutes, with two lieutenants and a couple of score of troopers at his heels, the scout set the pace over the ridge and down into the smoke-wreathed valley. They were soon in full sight of the fort and the redskins clamoring about it. And it was a complete surprise to Oak Heart and his braves to see reenforcements for the whites so near at hand. As for the defenders of Fort Advance, they were wild with joy to see even this small troop coming to their rescue. Buffalo Bill’s white steed was recognized, and cheers rent the air from the garrison which, a few moments before, had given up all hope. The Indians had been about to rush the stockade, and then a hand-to-hand fight would have ensued inside the fort which could have ended in but one way. The redskins outnumbered the whites so greatly, despite their losses, that the garrison would have been completely overwhelmed. Oak Heart saw that he was likely to be defeated, after all. Victory had all but perched upon his banners; now, with his forces separated, he was very likely to taste the bitter ashes of defeat! But the Sioux king was a born leader and strategist. He saw that, in some way, his plans for ambuscading the relief party had fallen through. His three hundred braves were idle up the cañon while the whites from Fort Resistence were coming to the help of their comrades by another way. Those reserve forces he needed, and needed at once. He spoke to the White Antelope. She had acted as his aid all through the battle, and now she wheeled her pony instantly and dashed away toward the mouth of the cañon. She was instructed to inform the ambuscading party of the change in affairs and to bring them back at top speed.