The Americans had come opposite, and no gun had yet been fired, when on a sudden Chief Pike left them. With Baroney and one soldier he galloped across, for the village. That was a bold deed, but he did not seem to fear. He paid no attention to the warriors who scowled at him. He made way through them straight to Chief Charakterik. He spoke loudly, so that all about might hear. “I have come to say good-by. I hope that when we come again we will find the great father’s flag still flying.” “You had better go quickly,” White Wolf replied. “The Spanish will be angry with us, and my young men are hard to hold.” “We are going,” Chief Pike assured. “We are going, as we said we would. If your young men mean to stop us, let them try. Two of our horses were stolen from us this morning. They were Pawnee horses. One was returned to us by your men. The other is missing. I am sure that the Pawnee do not sell us horses at a high price, so as to steal them. That is not honest. If you are a chief you will get the horse back for us, or the Pawnee will have a bad name for crooked tongues. So I will leave one of my men, who will receive the horse and bring it on. He will wait till the sun is overhead, to-morrow.” “I will see what I can do,” White Wolf answered. “The horse may have only strayed. A present might find him again.” “The horse is ours,” reproved Chief Pike. “I shall not buy it twice. If the Pawnees are honest and wish to be friends with their American brothers, they will return the horse to me. I shall expect it, to-morrow. Adios.” “Adios,” grunted White Wolf, wrapping his robe about him. Chief Pike and Baroney the interpreter galloped for the column. They left the soldier. Now he was one American among all the Pawnees, but he did not act afraid, either. He sat his horse and gazed about him with a smile. He was a stout, chunky man, in stained blue clothes. His face was partly covered with red hair, and the hair on his head, under his slouched black hat, was red, too. He carried a long-barreled heavy gun in the hollow of one arm. “Get down,” signed White Wolf. “Come into my lodge.” And he waved the crowding warriors back. The red-haired soldier got down and entered the lodge. Here he was safe. Everything of his was safe as long as he was a guest of a lodge. Scar Head slipped in after him, but White Wolf stayed outside. “The American chief has lost a horse,” he announced. “The horse must be brought back, or we shall have a bad name with our American father.” “If the American chief has lost a horse, let him promise a present and maybe it will be found,” answered Skidi. “That is no way to talk,” Charakterik rebuked. “I want the horse brought to me; then we will see about the present.” “The present is here already,” laughed Skidi. “It is in your lodge. The American chief would have done better to lose all his horses and say nothing, for a red scalp is big medicine.” And all the warriors laughed.