Two Arrows dismounted and led his over-ridden pony into camp. Long Bear stood silently and dignifiedly in front of his lodge waiting for him, and the older warriors were gathering fast to hear the news. They knew very well that no Indian boy would have dared to give such a signal as that without good reason, and their faces were clouding seriously. "Two Arrows speak quick," said his father. "All hear him." The young scout felt deeply the pride of his position. He pointed towards the lower valley with all the dignity he could muster, and uttered only the words, "'Pache! War-path!" There was a dismal chorus of "Ugh!" from all who heard him, but there was not one war-whoop. He was at once called upon for a minute and careful account of the whole affair, including the locality and condition of Judge Parks and his party of miners. He made his report with a fullness and keenness of observation that stirred up the old chief's family pride amazingly. "Young chief," he remarked. "Do something more every time." It looked very much like it, and his return as an intelligent and successful scout added largely to all his other claims to distinction. Not another boy in the band had ever announced anything so very bad and so important. That was no time for anybody to spend a thought upon the fame of Two Arrows, however. All the old men said, one after another, that they wished they knew just how many Apaches there were in that war-party. Had they known how very strong it was, they might have been even worse puzzled, but Long Bear was really a clear-headed leader, and he decided the whole matter promptly and finally. He told his gathering braves that the place where they were was a bad one to fight in, while their pale-face friends had selected a peculiarly good one. They themselves had but twenty-three warriors armed with rifles, and nearly as many more young men and well-grown boys armed with bows and arrows. That was no force with which to meet Apaches, nobody knew how many, and all sure to be riflemen. To go back through the pass was to die of sure starvation, even if they were not followed and slaughtered among the rocks. The Apaches were plainly making for that very pass, he said; and he was only a keen-eyed chief and not at all a prophet when he read the matter correctly and said, "'Pache run away from blue-coats. All in a hurry. Not stop. Nez Perce hide and let them go by. Not fight. Keep pony. Keep hair. Good. Ugh!" The party which had been sent back after the lodges and things was a serious anxiety, and a light-footed youngster was started off at once to warn them. He would be sure to meet them on their way, returning, and could tell them to be on their guard, and very little more could be done for them.