The party led by Baptiste was not less successful in carrying out the instructions given to them by War–Eagle. After a rapid and toilsome march of many hours upon the Dahcotah trail, they came at length in sight of their enemies; although at a distance of many miles, the prudence and caution of the experienced scout controlled the impetuous ardour of the young Delawares, who were burning to revenge the insult offered to their tribe. But Baptiste was aware that to attack with his present force would be hopeless, and he bent all his energies to creep as near to the Sioux as possible, so that he might be ready to dash in upon their rear, in case he should find that the ambuscade of War–Eagle was successfully laid; at the same time the hardy woodsman was determined not to allow them, under any circumstances, to gain the village without making by day or by night one bold effort for the recovery of the horses. A habit of self–control was one of the distinguishing features of the guide’s character; and although his hatred of the Sioux was fierce and intense, as we have seen in the earlier part of this tale, he now conducted his operations with a cool deliberation that might almost have been mistaken for indifference: selecting the most intelligent warrior among the Lenapé, he sent him forward to creep on the trail; he himself followed at a short distance; then the other runners at short intervals, and the mounted Indians were desired to keep entirely out of sight in the rear. In this order they continued the pursuit; and by the skilful selection of ground, and taking advantage of every trifling hill or ravine over which they passed, he contrived at length to approach as near as he deemed it prudent to venture until he should see the result of the stratagem devised by War–Eagle. CHAPTER IX. A DESERTED VILLAGE IN THE WEST.—MAHÉGA CARRIES OFF PRAIRIE–BIRD, AND ENDEAVOURS TO BAFFLE PURSUIT. We must now shift the scene to the spot where the Delaware village had been encamped. What a change had a few days produced! The lodges of the chiefs, with their triangular poles bearing their shields and trophies; the white tent of Prairie–bird; the busy crowds of women and children; the troops of horses, the songs and dances of the warriors—all were gone! and in their stead nothing was to be seen but a flock of buzzards, gorging themselves on a meal too revolting to be described, and a pack of wolves snarling and quarrelling over the remains of the unfortunate Lenapé victims.