"Don't know a thing, only that they're on the road somewhere 'tween here an' Leavenworth. Now, if they were regulars you could calculate to the hour when they'd get here, for when they get orders to go anywhere neither hell nor high water'll stop 'em; but if a little bad weather strikes these volunteers, an' they can find a snug camping place, they're liable to hang up for a week or two, an' put in the time stealing chickens an' playing cards." "How long do you and Adkins expect to be gone on this trip, Bill?" "Well, now, that's a sort of a 'kin-savvy' case," he replied. "It depends on how soon we find the Injuns' camp. Maybe it'll take us a week--maybe two weeks or more--can't tell; but once we get onto their trail we'll soon overhaul 'em. John, here, says that ol' To hausen, the 'Little Mountain,' an' his band is camped right down Walnut Creek, about half-way 'tween here an' Charley Rath's ranch--'bout twenty-five miles from here." "Yes," said Adkins, "I was up to their camp 'bout a week ago, an since that some of the Injuns was down to the ranch a-trading; but they don't know, for sure, where Satank an' the rest of the tribe is; but they thought we'd be apt to find 'em on the Smoky, or the Saline, or Solomon, or maybe on some of the little timbered creeks in between the rivers." "Do you think, Adkins," I asked, "that there is any likelihood of To hausen's band moving up this way? For it would bother our wolf-hunting business if they should come near us." "Oh, they may be a-moving camp now an' then, to get fresh grass for their hosses; but if they get to crowdin' on you, all you've got to do is to go to ol' To hausen an' ask him to keep far enough away so's not to interfere with your wolf poisoning, an' he'll do it, for he's a pretty good ol' Injun, an' always tries to keep on good terms with the whites. There's only about a hundred men in his band, an' they're mostly ol' men what's had experience enough to know that it pays better to keep on good terms with Uncle Sam's people than to be bucking again 'em. But the most of the tribe now seems to be of the other way of thinking an' have split off from ol' To hausen, who used to be head chief, an' taken to following the lead of such devils as Satank, an' Satanta, an' Big Tree; an' they're the ones we've got to look out for." "Where do you expect to find the Kiowa trail, Bill?" "Well, from here, we'll follow this ol' lodge-pole trail; it turns off from the Walnut a few miles up the creek an' goes over to the Smoky Hill, which is about twenty miles from here; an' about opposite this point on the Smoky is a mail station on the Denver stage route, an' I reckon we'll be able to find out from the station men whether the Kiowas have gone up or down the river an' lay our course to suit."