Will did not offer to argue the matter. No doubt an excellent test of a
man's courage is to hit him over the head with a tomahawk. If he lives
through it, he is brave as Agamemnon. But Will insisted mildly that it
was a rough way to treat friends; whereupon Satanta read the riot act to
his high-spirited young men, and bade them return the captured weapons
to the scout.

The next question was, were there soldiers with the cattle? Certainly,
replied Will; a large party of soldiers were escorting the succulent
sirloins. This intelligence necessitated another consultation. Evidently
hostilities must be postponed until after the cattle had arrived. Would
Will drive the cattle to them? He would be delighted to. Did he desire
that the chief's young men should accompany him? No, indeed. The
soldiers, also, were high-spirited, and they might test the bravery of
the chief's young men by shooting large holes in them. It would be much
better if the scout returned alone.

Satanta agreed with him, and Will recrossed the river without
molestation; but, glancing over his shoulder, he noted a party of ten
or fifteen young braves slowly following him. Satanta was an extremely
cautious chieftain.

Will rode leisurely up the gentle slope of the river's bank, but when
he had put the ridge between him and the Indian camp he pointed his mule
westward, toward Fort Larned, and set it going at its best pace. When
the Indians reached the top of the ridge, from where they could scan the
valley, in which the advancing cattle were supposed to be, there was not
a horn to be seen, and the scout was flying in an opposite direction.