“Any news from the captives, Rollo?” asked Town., as he neared the ranger. “Nothing,” the ranger responded; “of course they are in the Indian village, and the question is, how are we to get at them.” “The only course I see is to fight our way in and release them, then fight our way out again, if we kin git ’em no other way,” said Old Tumult. “Ten to one we would all be killed,” said Town. “Well, we can try it,” said Rollo; “faint heart ne’er won fair lady, Town.” Town. was a little touched by this remark, which was slightly tainted with sarcasm; however, he forced back the retort that came to his lips, and made no reply. There was a momentary silence, during which the ranger toyed with the coiled horn at the pommel of his saddle. Suddenly they were aroused by the sharp bark of a wolf that echoed through the valley below them. “How human-like is that cry,” said Rollo, “and how it echoes through the valley.” “Yes, I’m thinking there is more human than wolf about the cry,” said Town. At this juncture, the jingle of the ranger’s horn drew our friends’ attention toward him. There was just light enough to see him place the instrument to his lips. “Don’t you,” cried Old Tumult, but the sound of his voice was drowned in the blast of the horn. “Ho, you young, traitorous villain!” roared the old scout, and he leaped toward the ranger, but the latter whirled his horse’s head and dashed away. Then there was hurrying of many feet, the flitting of many dark forms--followed by the blood-chilling war-whoop of two score and ten Arapaho warriors, as they closed in upon our friends. Where was Mahaska and his warriors, now? Ah! where indeed? CHAPTER XIII. THE TRAGEDY AT THE LAKE. The dark line of Arapaho warriors stopped ere they had got within reach of our two friends, for scarcely had their own war-cry pealed from their own lips, when there arose another yell that seemed to issue from the earth, the sky and the air, so loud and fierce that the earth seemed to tremble beneath them. Mahaska had been true to his word, and, with his warriors, had come to the rescue; and, after all, the Arapahoes were the surprised party, and like sheep they scattered and fled in every direction. Half of their number, however, fell under the blows of the Sioux. Tumult and Town. escaped without a scratch. The following morning search was made among the dead for the body of Rollo, but it was not there. In consequence of the defeat of the Arapahoes, Old Tumult and Mahaska became fast friends, and took another “pipe of peace” over the victory. The chief now sent scouts in all directions to keep a watch upon the movements of the enemy, while Old Tumult and Town., accompanied by Mahaska, set off toward the Arapaho village to reconnoiter the situation.