Thus accoutred for the work Kit Carey left the two Indians in camp with his horse, and started forth upon his mission of danger, for he had determined to know just how matters stood with Big Foot and his band. The camp of the Sioux was on a level strip of ground, along the banks of a ravine some fifteen feet deep, and from fifty to a hundred feet in width. The tepees of the Indians extended along the banks of the ravine for several hundred yards, and were formed in the shape of a crescent. To reach the camp from the rear, by way of the ravine, Kit Carey found it no easy task; but it was accomplished, and at last he glided into the midst of the hostile band. Dressed as he was, and it being night, he did not fear detection, for he spoke the Sioux tongue perfectly. Then, too, his walk, movements, and appearance was that of a Sioux chief. His greatest danger lay in not being recognized, but this he intended to overcome by claiming to be a Sioux chief, long absent from the tribe, and giving the name of a chief whom he knew to have been killed near Fort F---- some months before, and whose fate was not known. There were a few camp-fires, with groups of bucks, squaws, and children, about them, and one apart, where only warriors were seen. Indians were moving to and fro, and it was very evident to the officer that some move of importance was about to be undertaken. Folding his blanket closely about him he lay down in the shadow of a tepee, and watched and listened, for he was within hearing of the voices of the warriors about the fire, where no squaws or children were allowed. Several had spoken to him, but with a grunt he had passed on, and thrown himself down near the tepee. The light of the fire shone upon the faces of the Indians on the other side from where he lay, and one face he recognized at a glance. It was the Chief Red Hatchet, and he was talking to the others in an earnest, vindictive tone. A few words that he said reached the ears of the officer-spy, and he at once arose, glided away among the tepees, dropped down into the ravine unseen, and made his way rapidly back to his camp. His Indian scouts were on the alert, and the three were soon flanking the camp at Wounded Knee and riding rapidly in the direction in which Colonel Forsythe's command was expected to approach. It was just before dawn that the sound of many hoofs fell upon his ears, and he drew rein to await the approach of the command, for he knew that the splendid Seventh Cavalry were on the march. "Now, Chief Big Foot, you will never carry out the plan Chief Red Hatchet has decided upon, for the avengers of the brave Custer are hot on your trail." Soon after the soldiers came in sight, and then Kit Carey hailed: "Ho, the Seventh Cavalry!" Instantly a halt was ordered, carbines clicked, and a stern order came: "Advance and report yourself, sir!" To the surprise of the advance guard three horsemen rode forward in the darkness, who appeared to be Indians.