“Oh yes, White Cloud, many moons ago my father taught me of the Kiowa smoke signals. Though all tribes use this method the Kiowas have a definite series of signals before their message. Look, White Cloud. See that series of short puffs of smoke? That is peculiar only to the Kiowas. Let me see if I can make out what they are sending.” The two boys sat astride their ponies watching the signals of smoke rise in the distance. Running Dog studied the signals as diligently as he could and seeking back into his memory for everything his father had taught him about smoke signals. Then he turned to White Cloud, “Come, my friend, we must hurry. Those signals are to a band of Kiowas to the south that we are here in their hunting grounds and therefore have broken the law of the Kiowa and must die. They are calling to this band to bring our scalps on their war lances triumphantly to the village. We must hurry, White Cloud. There is no telling how long that message has been playing in the sky. We did not notice it until now but that does not mean that it has not been sent before just now. We must ride to camp and take our other horse and start for home.” The two boys wheeled their ponies about and sped back for the camp. They entered the camp and quickly gathering their possessions together they put them aboard the pack horse and climbing upon their own ponies they started swiftly southward. They rode steadily for about an hour, and then Running Dog pulled up his pony. “Wait, White Cloud, we are doing just what they wish us to do. We are running and we have a long hard trip to make. Besides, that signal was evidently for a band to the south of our camp. If we are not careful we shall find that we have ridden right into a trap. Let us plan our trip more carefully. First we must stay away from the main trails. We must take to the foothills and work our way south that way. It will take us longer, but there will be less chance of being ambushed, I believe, if we stay away from the well-used main trails. The Kiowas are a very tricky people and we would be in a trap before we knew it. They will be sure to be covering the water holes for they know we must have water. As far as I know there are but three between here and our village. How much water do you have in your pouch?” “My pouch is about empty, Running Dog, but surely we will find water elsewhere than at the three water holes.” “There is a good chance that we will, but I do not want to count on it. After all, our hunters are the ones that are familiar with this land. We are strangers here and not acquainted with the good and bad points. Come, our horses have rested. We will leave the main trail now and continue cross country. It is going to be a hard journey, White Cloud, but we are racing death.”