"No, I don't think they'll go to war openly or in a body, but they'll probably scout around in little bands, watchin' their chances an' doing a little mischief here an' there on the sly, whenever they see a good chance to dodge in, hit a lick, an' dodge out again without making an open rupture. But they promised to come down to Fort Larned, as soon as the grass begins to come in the spring, to have a powwow with the officers an' Injun agent, 'cause there's a chance of some presents in that, an' they're always ready to take all they can get an' more, too." "What seems to be their principal grievance against the white men?" I asked. "Well, it's the old song about the white men killing off their game. But, then, we all know that's just an excuse, for the game on the plains is plenty enough for all an' what little the whites get away with ain't missed. Of course, if they were to come around here an' see how many buffalo bones you fellows are leaving on the prairie they might think you were getting more than your share. But you've got just as much right to kill buffalo an' wolves, or any other game, as the Injuns have. Anyway, it ain't likely they'll get down this way before grass comes, an' you fellows'll be done skinning wolves an' gone before that time." "I hope so," I replied. "I have no desire to renew my acquaintance with Satank. How about old To hausen, Bill; is he still camped at the same place?" "Yes, his band was still camped about twenty or twenty-five miles down Walnut Creek from your camp; but To hausen was getting ready to move up your way, too, an' I reckon by this time he's moved. I told him about you fellows a-poisoning wolves and that you were particular friends of mine, an' asked him not to move up close enough to you to bother your work, an' he promised me he would keep far enough away so's not to trouble you. He's a pretty good ol' Injun, To hausen is, an' he's always been a good friend of mine, an' I'm sure he'll not let any of his people interfere with you. Some of his outfit'll be apt to look you up in a few days, an' if they come to see you you must treat 'em well." "Of course we will," I replied, "for we want to keep on good terms with them." At Camp Coyotelope, which we reached in time for dinner, Bill had to repeat to Tom and Jack all he had told me about his trip to the Kiowa village. During the afternoon we lounged about camp and at the approach of evening Jack and I saddled up and made the round of the wolf baits, putting out fresh strychnine for the night, and returned to camp in time to help demolish an excellent supper. That evening Tom suggested to the scout: "Bill, while you're here, suppose you an' me ride down to ol' To hausen's camp to-morrow to see where he is an' make sure that he ain't a-crowding on our huntin'-ground--what do you say?" "It's a whack, Tom; I'll go you!" replied Bill, "an' we'll have a fair understanding with the ol' man about how far he's to allow his people to range up this way."