“Heap chase ’em Injuns--that’s all. No ketch ’em. Bucks dodge. Some go this way through trees, some that”;--the chief made his story very vivid by expressive gesticulations. “Drop deer in creek. Run up creek, no tracks, long way round to wickiups. No see ’em game man any more. Maybe so lose him in trees.” “Well, he’ll be sneakin’ round again, don’t worry. He wants to play heap smart, put Injun in jail, get heap money. You’d better kill the devil. If you don’t, he’ll get you.” The Indians, usually reticent, grew more and more talkative as they found in their white companion one who held bitter grievances against their enemies. Especially was this the case with the hot-blooded ones of the band. For there are Indians and Indians, some always keen for trouble, others peaceful and law-abiding by nature. But all of the tribe were more or less restive at this time. Bud’s first plans to get even with those against whom his grudge was fiercest contemplated no bloodshed. His main thought was to annoy and harass his foes in some ugly way without risk to himself. The scheme of doing it gradually took shape in his brain. He had been the chief bully of the valley, why not be chief of a band of Indians? It would be an easy trick to lead such a band into all sorts of mischief. Knowing every foot of the ground and all of the people concerned, he could readily raid the ranches, steal cattle and horses, set fire to their stacks, or cut up other kinds of deviltry to torment those on whom he would glut his revenge. The chance to promote his plot was not hard to find. Let one but strike with energy to realize a strong desire for good or ill, it is surprising how the force draws like a magnet and magnetizes like metal all about it. The days that Bud lay convalescing he used to the advantage of his plan. By card playing and gambling with the young bucks, he soon established a close fellowship. They naturally took to his leadership, and he had soon so gained their confidence that he felt safe to suggest his plan to Flying Arrow, one of the leading young Indians, straight as an arrow and as light and swift, with keen but not unkindly eyes. The plot found favor with this daring brave rather because it was electric with possibilities, than because of any deep-seated grudge he bore the whites. Through this young chief it was spread to several others of like spirit. They took to it also with avidity, and before Old Copperhead was aware of it, there was formed within his band a kind of secret coalition of dare-devils, bent upon excitement and incidentally revenge toward the whites.