But what did it mean that the captors should be coming southwestward with their booty? Why had they not burned the wagon? They could never use it at the reservation. Many young men, of course, were out and afield with the ghost-dancers, but the elders, the native police, and the agent would quickly hear of it, and trouble would follow for somebody. George Sword, Sioux chief of police and stanch adherent of General Crook--"Wichahnpi Yahmni" (Three Stars), as they called him whom so long the Sioux had honored, and whom now they were so deeply mourning--George Sword was a man who did his duty well; Geordie, as a boy, had known him, and known how the general trusted him. A wagon like this would be of no more use to the captors than a locomotive; yet here they were, a dozen of them, urging it on, while others of their kind, afar back down-stream, were darting about, little black dots of horsemen scampering over the distant slopes, evidently watching some parties still farther away and invisible to the lurking cavalry. Could it be that they were trying to repeat an old-time deed of chivalry told to this day of their fathers--restoring lost property to the legitimate owners? Could it be that, knowing the presence of the squadron on the Mini Chaduza, and the probability of the frightened owners having found refuge there, these Indians were now actually driving thither? They were still on their reservation. There was nothing but the fugitives' statement to warrant the belief that the camp had been attacked and burned. There was nothing, in fact, to justify an attack upon the present possessors. They would probably scatter, rush to the reservation, tell their tale to the agent, and the press and the peace societies would presently be flooding the country with columns concerning the murderous onslaught on a friendly people made by a reckless soldiery. Yet something had to be done, and that right speedily; for now, instead of breasting the long slope, and coming, as at first, straight toward the ridge, the Indians were lashing the leaders in gradual turn to the westward. Now they were skirting the foot of the incline and moving parallel to the ridge, and then it was that Geordie saw the reason. They had made the wide sweep outward in order to circle the head of a ravine which, starting only a few hundred yards out to the left front, went winding deeper and steeper through the "bench" until it finally opened out into the creek bottom a long mile away.