Alta was quickly lifted from her horse and carried into a tepee standing somewhat apart from the rest of the lodges. Her arms were untied, but she was left there closely guarded, at Bud’s order, by two squaws, while he and the other leaders held a council in Old Copperhead’s wigwam. The Indians were in an ugly temper over their defeat, and naturally they laid the blame for it upon the one who had led them. Ankanamp was received, therefore, for the first time with sullen silence. He had staked too much on this last throw and had lost, bringing danger and terror to the tribe. This was enough to make the hot-headed braves ready to kill the White Chief. Old Copperhead had already been put to the test to hold his followers from doing harm to Ankanamp as he appeared. And now he came bringing a white girl captive. Pursuit to the death would be sure to follow in the wake of that dastardly trick. The Indians all knew what that meant; but to their credit they held down their anger to listen to their chiefs. There was little time, however, for talk. A quick decision and action were demanded. Whether to flee or to make a stand and fight was the question; for they knew that the whites would soon trail them to this lair. The old chief counseled sending the squaws and papooses on that night, leaving the warriors to guard their retreat. Nixon urged an ambush. “They are sure to follow us,” he said, “but we kin beat ’em back and get revenge.” “Yes, cow-men follow all right,” said Flying Arrow; “they trail Injun night and day till they git white squaw. Why you bring white squaw here?” he demanded, turning savagely on Nixon. “That’s my business,” retorted the bully. “Make Injuns heap trouble,” said Old Copperhead. “Why you bring white girl here?” again demanded Flying Arrow. “She’s my squaw.” “You lie!” hissed the Indian. “Well, I’m going to make her mine.” “What you do with Laughing Eyes?” “None of your damned business!” “You promise Indian girl to make her your squaw.” “You lie!” “No, you lie,--she tell me. Now you keep promise and let white squaw go. Then all well.” The young chief’s words were calm and clear. “What! marry an Injun? I’ll see you in hell first.” “You no too proud to use Injun girl. Now you make Laughing Eyes your squaw, or me kill you!” A savage fire blazed in the young chief’s eyes. Bud cowered under his glance. The other Indians stood like statues watching them. Then Old Copperhead said firmly: “Flying Arrow right. You marry Injun girl. Let white girl free. You do this. All well. You no do it. You die.” “Well, have your way then,” said the cowardly cur, playing for time; “we’ll settle the job to-morrow.”