Having encircled the encampment, Buffalo Bill was undecided whether to return to the bivouac--his blanket beckoned him--or to once more make the circle. Suddenly he heard Chief whinny loudly. There was some activity among the horses; but the scout heard the sentinel’s voice and knew that the mob of animals would not stampede. But his own mount screamed again--angrily. “By thunder!” muttered the Border King. “That means one thing, and one thing only. Chief smells a redskin--or more than one!” Yet he did not start down into the encampment to arouse the men. The horses quieted down, and there was no further warning from the big white horse. The scout, however, glided out upon the plain, taking advantage of the shadow of every bush and boulder, and so stood beside the soldier watching the herd. He came so suddenly that the man was startled and grunted: “Holy Jo, Cody! You give me a start.” “See what an Injun might do to you.” “Not much. I’d smell the prowling devils,” said the trooper confidently. “What was the matter with my horse?” “That white fellow?” “Yes.” “Dunno. Just squealed.” Cody thought to himself: “Well, your smelling powers are not equal to Chief’s. _He_ certainly got the taint of redskin on the air.” Aloud the scout asked: “Which way was the horse headed when he squealed--did you notice?” “Just about as he is now. What’s the matter?” “Humph! didn’t know but the horse was sick,” replied Cody dryly, and he walked through the herd till he stood beside Chief. “So, boy! what’s the matter?” he said soothingly, smoothing the horse’s muzzle. Chief whinnied softly; his fright was passed. Suddenly the sentinel, who had idly followed Cody’s movements with his glance, became aware of the fact that the scout had disappeared! It was not a dark night, and the plain was open; but the scout was gone as completely as though he had been suddenly wiped out of existence! “Well, I’ll be switched!” grunted the surprised trooper, stepping forward, and then stopping again. “I could have swore that feller stood by his hoss a minute ago.” And he was right on that point, of course. But Buffalo Bill had slipped the lariat from his saddle-bow and suddenly dropped into the grass at his horse’s feet. Chief began to crop the grass again, and paid no attention while his master crept away from the herd. Cody knew that the light breeze had brought but a single whiff of Indian to the horse’s nostrils. The redskin could not be far away. He crept across the plain and finally reached rising ground, where clumps of brush and an occasional tree offered shelter. He had been over this ground before, but he knew that some prowling enemy had been here more recently. He remained almost flat upon the ground and gazed all about him, seeking to see the silhouette of any lurking figure against the sky.