So rapid and unexpected was this movement of Buffalo Bill, in drawing
his revolver and firing it, that not one of the warriors who stood
behind the renegade chief--some with arrows already fitted to their
bows, and others with rifles covering the scout--had time to fire.
Yet, swift as he had been, one eye was quick enough to send an arrow
upon its errand. The shaft struck the outstretched arm of the scout
just as his finger pulled the trigger of his weapon, and the shock
destroyed his aim.
Having made this daring move, however, and believing that death must
follow the deed, Buffalo Bill dropped his left hand upon his second
pistol, determined to press the fight, kill Bennett, and die as had the
brave man at his feet--fighting to the last!
Maddened with rage and thirsting for the life of his foe, Boyd Bennett
shouted to his warriors to rush upon the scout and take him alive that
he might end his career by cruel torture. But suddenly a slender form
darted before the red braves, and, with arrow set in readiness to let
fly, the White Antelope thrust herself between the white man and the
reds who would have seized him.
“Let the Sioux braves hold their hands. The White Antelope commands it!”
Like one man the reds halted, and even the renegade shrank back a step,
gazing in fear and wonder on the apparition of the beautiful girl.
Buffalo Bill, too, gazed upon the chief’s daughter in amazement. He
knew now that the arrow he drew from the wound in his right forearm had
been driven home by the girl; yet now she stood between him and his
foes.
Her attitude evidently astonished Bennett as much as it did Cody
himself, for the renegade cried:
“Why has the White Antelope become the friend of the slayer of her
people? The man she shelters is Pa-e-has-ka, the Long Hair.”
“The arrow of the White Antelope brings blood from the arm of
Pa-e-has-ka. Is that the way in which a Sioux shows friendship?” asked
the young girl scornfully.
“Then the White Antelope yields the paleface foe to the medicine chief
of her tribe?”
“No!” was the decided response.
“What would you do?” demanded the renegade angrily.
“I will deliver Pa-e-has-ka to the great chief, my father, Oak Heart.”
“The White Antelope is no warrior,” sneered the renegade. “Are there
not braves enough loyal to Oak Heart to carry out his will upon this
paleface?”
“The White Antelope may be no warrior,” said the girl; “but she has
just saved the life of the Death Killer.”
At this Buffalo Bill laughed aloud, for the shot was a good one, and
his seeming indifference to his peril caused the daughter of the chief
to turn her eyes upon him. She scanned the scout from head to foot.
What was in her thoughts he could not guess; but, suddenly, deciding
upon a course of action, she stepped boldly to the side of Buffalo
Bill, and touched with tender fingers the wounded arm which he had
bared.
“If the Long Hair has ointment for the wound, it would be better to
bind it,” she said to him.
Buffalo Bill opened his pouch, and the girl found the salve and
bandages he always carried. Meanwhile, the scout sucked the wound to
remove any foreign matter that might have been driven into it by the
arrowhead. Then the Indian maiden bound up the hurt while the renegade
looked on sullenly.
“Why is the Long Hair here--so near the village of the Sioux?” she
asked Buffalo Bill, when this act of kindness was performed.
“I chanced upon the place. I saw the dead. Here lies my friend--the
young man whom I loved as a son,” said the scout, pointing to the body
of Danforth. “He and his men have been all slain by the Sioux.”
“They were enemies,” said the girl simply.
“But they had not come out to disturb the red men.”
“Why were they here?”
“To find and take prisoner that villain yonder!” exclaimed Buffalo
Bill, scowling at Boyd Bennett in his war-paint and feathers. “That man
who is neither white nor red, but a squaw-man! He had committed crimes
against the white man’s law and should be punished by that law.”
“My father heard that the palefaces were coming to seize him.”
“Another lie of that renegade!” exclaimed the scout. “And while I
mourned over the body of this young man, the villain came upon me,
returning, as he declares, to tear the scalp from the head of the white
chief whom he was not brave enough himself to kill!”
The girl seemed to understand. She glanced from the body of Danforth to
the rage-inflamed face of Boyd Bennett.
“Is it from this dead white chief’s head the Killer would take the
scalp?” she asked haughtily.
“Aye; and I _will_ have it!” cried Bennett.
“Did the young paleface fall by thy hand, Death Killer?” demanded the
maiden, with all the dignity of a judge.
“It matters not. Forget not, oh, White Antelope, that I am the medicine
chief of the Sioux----”
“And see that the Death Killer forget not that _I_ am the daughter of
Oak Heart!” she interrupted.
“I acknowledge that fact,” sneered Boyd Bennett. “But the White
Antelope has no control over the acts of the Death Killer.”
“Did the paleface fall to your prowess?” she demanded again, looking
the renegade sternly in the eye.
An Indian stepped forward. He carried a blood-stained war-club in one
hand. In a deep guttural he said:
“The white chief’s scalp should be Red Knife’s; he brought him low at
last with a blow of his club. But the great chief, Oak Heart, forbade
that we take the scalp of so brave a warrior.”
“Then why does the Death Killer wish to do that which is forbidden by
my father?” cried the girl quickly.
“Is it the White Antelope’s place to question the medicine chief of her
tribe?” demanded the painted white man, with haughty demeanor. “The
scalp of the dead bluecoat is my prize!”
Buffalo Bill saw indecision in the Indian maiden’s face. He knew how
superstitious the redskins were regarding the mysterious powers claimed
by all medicine chiefs. In some way--by some manner of fake magic--Boyd
Bennett had roused the superstitious reverence of the Sioux, and
Buffalo Bill did not know how greatly the chief’s daughter might be
tainted by this feeling of reverence for the villainous renegade.
“Let not this crime be done, White Antelope,” he said in her ear.
“Remember what Pa-e-has-ka told you in the cañon, when he had you in
his power. He knows much. He was once your mother’s trusted friend. And
he warns you now--as you hope for peace of soul and body--not to allow
the dead young man to be so treated by your people.”
The girl turned upon him suddenly, with wide-open eyes.
“What does Long Hair mean? What is this dead paleface to her?”
“That Long Hair may not tell thee, oh, White Antelope. Trust him----”
“Trust a paleface!”
“Trust one who has given you back to your father when he might have
taken your life, or held you prisoner.”
“Aye, Long Hair, thou didst that. It is true.”
“And believe me,” the scout said, more earnestly still, in English, not
wishing the other Indians to understand; “this dead paleface whom even
the great chief Oak Heart admired for his bravery, is more to the White
Antelope than she knows. The time will come when I can explain all to
you, girl--but not now!”
“What’s that?” demanded Boyd Bennett, stepping forward. “What’s this
foolishness you are telling the girl?”
But the White Antelope haughtily waved him back.
“Let the Death Killer stand away. The chief’s daughter can care for
herself. And let not one of these dead palefaces be further disturbed.
It is my will!”
The waiting Indians grunted agreement. They were willing enough to obey
the beautiful princess. The White Antelope turned again to Buffalo Bill:
“Where are the paleface brothers of Pa-e-has-ka?”
Buffalo Bill pointed in the direction from which he had come.
“Far away.”
“The White Antelope is his foe, and the foe of his people; but she
wishes not to see the wolves and the vultures tear the bodies of brave
men for food. The Sioux have come to remove their dead. Let Pa-e-has-ka
go bring his brother warriors to remove the paleface slain.”
At that Boyd Bennett uttered an oath and sprang forward.
“Not that, girl! You’re crazy!”
“We’ll see who wears the breeches in this family, Boyd Bennett!”
laughed the scout.
“You shall not leave this spot alive, Bill Cody!”
“Oh, shucks! Don’t speak so harshly,” gibed the scout.
The girl raised her hand. Without looking at the renegade, she said to
Buffalo Bill:
“But Pa-e-has-ka must make the White Antelope a promise.”
“All right. What is it?”
“The White Antelope came from the great chief Oak Heart, who told her
to seek the paleface warriors and tell them where to find their dead.
He bids them to come here and remove their slain in peace, and not to
follow on the track of his people. Will Pa-e-has-ka tell the big chief
the words of Oak Heart?”
“I will.”
“Then Pa-e-has-ka must promise to return and yield himself to the
Sioux.”
She looked Buffalo Bill straight in the eye as she stated her
condition, and he saw that she meant exactly what she said; but he
asked:
“Does the White Antelope mean that I am to give myself up to the red
warriors after I have guided the bluecoats here?”
“She has spoken.”
“And this is the promise she wishes Pa-e-has-ka to make?”
The Indian girl nodded.
“Why should Pa-e-has-ka return?”
“He is the captive of the medicine chief, Death Killer, now; but White
Antelope lets him go free that the paleface braves lie not unburied,
and that the other white warriors take heed not to follow upon the
trail of the Sioux. Will Pa-e-has-ka promise?”
Buffalo Bill was silent for a moment. If he refused he knew that her
protection would cease. If he agreed to her condition he must keep his
word, be the end what it might. And that end looked to the scout much
like an ironwood stake, a hot fire, and a bunch of naked red devils
dancing a two-step about him while he slowly crisped to a cinder!
There was a loophole. He made a mental reservation that, after bearing
the tidings of the massacre to the fort, and delivering Oak Heart’s
warning, he would return to the Sioux encampment--but with a force
behind him that would surprise the redskins!
“I agree,” he said finally.
“Trust not the fox-tongue of the Long Hair!” cried Boyd Bennett
violently. “He will not keep his pledge.”
“The paleface is the foe of my people, but his tongue is straight,”
declared the Indian maiden, with confidence.
Buffalo Bill began secretly to weaken on that “mental reservation.”
“But he will come with a force at his back and burn the Indian
village,” cried the renegade.
Buffalo Bill had to give the fellow credit for having divined his
purpose; but the girl turned scornfully from the squaw-man.
“Pa-e-has-ka is not two-faced. He is not a turncoat,” she said
sneeringly. “The White Antelope will believe that the Long Hair will
return alone.”
Buffalo Bill at that completely abandoned the “mental reservation”
clause.
“Bet your life he will!” he exclaimed. “I’ll come back as I promise,
girl.”
“Then let Pa-e-has-ka go.”
But as she spoke the command, Boyd Bennett once more sprang forward. He
covered the scout with his rifle and cried:
“I am the medicine chief of the Sioux, and I say the paleface dog shall
not go!”
Then in English he declared:
“Your hour has come, Buffalo Bill. You die here and now!”