“Some buck’ll slip an arrer into him, if he don’t look out,” said Auberry.  “He’s got no business out there.”

We saw Orme making some sort of gestures, pointing to his horse and the others.

“Wonder if he wants to trade horses!” mused Auberry, chuckling.  Then in the same breath he called, “Look out!  By God!  Look!”

We all saw it.  Orme’s arm shot out straight, tipped by a blue puff of smoke, and we heard the crack of the dragoon pistol.  One of the Sioux, the chief who by this time had mounted his horse, threw his hand against his chest and leaned slightly back, then straightened up slightly as he sat.  As he fell, or before he fell, Orme pushed his body clear from the saddle, and with a leap was in the dead man’s place and riding swiftly toward us, leading his own horse by the rein!

It seemed that it was the Sioux who had kept faith after all; for none of the remaining three could find a weapon.  Orme rode up laughing and unconcerned.  “The beggar wouldn’t trade with me at all,” he said.  “By Jove, I believe he’d have got me if he’d had any sort of tools for it.”

“You broke treaty!” ejaculated Belknap—­“you broke the council word.”

“Did that man make the first break at you?” Auberry blazed at him.

“How can I tell?” answered Orme, coolly.  “It’s well to be a trifle ahead in such matters.”  He seemed utterly unconcerned.  He could kill a man as lightly as a rabbit, and think no more about it.

Within the instant the entire party of the Sioux was in confusion.  We saw them running about, mounting, heard them shouting and wailing.

“It’s fight now!” said Auberry.  “Back to the wagons now and get your men ready, Lieutenant.  As soon as the Sioux can get shut of their women, they’ll come on, and come a boilin’, too.  You damned fool!” he said to Orme.  “You murdered that man!”

“What’s that, my good fellow?” said Orme, sharply.  “Now I advise you to keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll teach you some manners.”

Even as we swung and rode back, Auberry pushed alongside Orme, his rifle at ready.  “By God! man, if you want to teach me any manners, begin it now.  You make your break,” he cried.

Belknap spurred in between them.  “Here, you men,” he commanded with swift sternness.  “Into your places.  I’m in command here, and I’ll shoot the first man who raises a hand.  Mr. Orme, take your place at the wagons.  Auberry, keep with me.  We’ll have fighting enough without anything of this.”

“He murdered that Sioux, Lieutenant,” reiterated Auberry.

“Damn it, sir, I know he did, but this is no time to argue about that.  Look there!”

A long, ragged, parti-colored line, made up of the squaws and children of the party, was whipping up the sides of the rough bluffs on the left of the valley.  We heard wailing, the barking of dogs, the crying of children.  We saw the Sioux separate thus into two bands, the men remaining behind riding back and forth, whooping and holding aloft their weapons.  We heard the note of a dull war drum beating the clacking of their rattles and the shrill notes of their war whistles.