CHAPTER XXXVII.THE TRAITOR.
Buffalo Bill was too wise to take Chief too near the Indian encampment. The wise white horse could take care of himself in ordinary emergencies, but he would be rather in the way up in the mountains, and the scout left him in a well-grassed valley, while he and Red Knife went on toward the Indian village.
Chief Oak Heart had established himself in a place not easy of access by the pony soldiers, and he had a great contempt for the “walk-a-heaps.” The Sioux are great riders, seldom walking where a pony can carry them, and are contemptuous of all people who do not likewise ride.
Red Knife had left his village afoot. It was a mark of his humility and his desperate straits. The routeback to the encampment was so rough that ponies would have been of little use to either the red man or the scout. They were all day in climbing the mountain and finding a pass through to the other side of the ridge. They came out about dark in sight of the valley where the village lay. Its lights were visible to them from the mountainside. They retired to a cave that Red Knife knew of, however, and built their own fire, out of sight.
Red Knife was mightily pleased with his new medicine. He was eager to get down to his people and show its virtues to them. But he had promised two things to the scout. One was to point out a secret trail down into Oak Heart’s camp; the other to spread among the braves the fact of Death Killer’s treachery—providing Cody proved to his satisfaction that the medicine chiefwastreacherous.
Before daybreak Buffalo Bill awoke his red ally, and they stole out of the cave like shadows. The Border King had marked well the stations of the various braves who were under the medicine chief’s control. They were set at every entrance to the valley by which the scout might have penetrated to the encampment.
At least, such had been the case upon his previous visit, and they were not long at the search before spotting one of these sentinels. At least, he was one of Death Killer’s particular friends, and he was apparently watching a pass through the hills.
The scout and Red Knife approached quite near to him, but Cody would not let his companion speak to the sentinel.
“Wait! Let us see if there are more, as I have told my red brother,” he observed, and they went on to anotherpath. Sure enough, there, grimly camped beside the way, was a second brave, likewise one of those who associated more closely with Boyd Bennett, the renegade. Again they went on, going cautiously now, for it was past sunrise, and found a third watchman.
These plainly were not sentinels placed to guard particularly the camp itself. Those were much nearer the village. These red men were stationed thusly for a particular purpose.
“Is my red brother satisfied that the Long Hair spoke truly?” asked the scout of the young brave.
“Pa-e-has-ka is of single tongue. He does not lie. But Red Knife will first go to Chief Oak Heart and ask him if, by his instruction, these men were sent to bar the way to the lodges of the Sioux. If the great chief knows naught of it, then must Death Killer explain.”
“Tell Oak Heart to remove these guards and Long Hair will appear before him as he promised the White Antelope,” said Cody seriously.
Red Knife solemnly shook hands with him. Although the young brave had, by his own confession, killed Dick Danforth, the scout had been forced to make use of him. Now he gave him a word of warning:
“Although Red Knife is now Long Hair’s friend, and Long Hair has given him of his own strong medicine that Red Knife might be a man among his people, there is still a feud between them. It was Red Knife’s hand that killed the young white chief, whom Long Hair loved. When next we meet let Red Knife beware.”
“It is just,” admitted the Indian solemnly. “Let us go.”
He led Cody then to the hidden path which would enable the scout to pass all of Death Killer’s sentinels and, indeed, most of the guards of the village, and so ride almost into the encampment itself without being seen. Then, without a word further, the young brave turned his face toward his father’s lodge.
Buffalo Bill sat down and smoked his pipe while he watched him along the trail into the valley. He could watch Red Knife for a long distance before the young man came out upon the bluff which overlooked the valley where the encampment lay. Until that time he could not be seen from below.
Suddenly Buffalo Bill saw a figure among the rocks near the path which Red Knife was following. It was of another Indian, but the scout could not see the man’s face—not even with the aid of his field-glasses. Red Knife seemed totally unconscious of the other’s presence until suddenly the stranger leaped before him and stood in his path.
“Hello!” muttered Cody. “What’s all this?”
It was evident that the two redskins conversed excitedly. What they said, of course, the scout could not even guess. Indians are usually so self-repressed that the scout could not judge at this distance whether they spoke angrily or in the most pleasant way together.
It seemed, however, as though the strange redskin tried to urge Red Knife to wait, but the young brave was determined to go on down into the valley. At last he seemed almost to break away from the other and push on toward the edge of the bluff. Cody knewthat neither of the actors in the drama below could be seen from the village.
Red Knife was determined, and left the one who had accosted him. The latter shrank back and watched him for a moment. Then suddenly Cody saw him gather himself, jerk the tomahawk from his belt, and swing the weapon high in the air!
Cody caught himself from crying out, but hedidleap up as the fatal blow fell. The strange Indian cast himself upon Red Knife’s back and clove the unconscious red man’s skull with a mighty blow of the hatchet. Red Knife went down in a heap!
Cody pulled himself together and, through the glass, watched the traitor stoop over the fallen man, strip the scalp from his head, and then dart away among the rocks. Steeped in guilt as he was, the scout knew the villain would not remain near the scene of his atrocious act. Therefore he risked going down to the place himself.
Poor Red Knife was truly disposed of. The hatchet had killed him instantly. And all the hopes Cody had based upon his good offices were dissipated at once.
The scout stood there for some time and communed with himself. Should he risk going on into the village now? Or should he await some favorable opportunity of undermining Boyd Bennett’s power before putting himself within the bandit’s grasp?