to the corral to see
about his pony.

Two Arrows dismounted and led his over-ridden pony into camp. Long Bear
stood silently and dignifiedly in front of his lodge waiting for him,
and the older warriors were gathering fast to hear the news. They knew
very well that no Indian boy would have dared to give such a signal as
that without good reason, and their faces were clouding seriously.

"Two Arrows speak quick," said his father. "All hear him."

The young scout felt deeply the pride of his position. He pointed
towards the lower valley with all the dignity he could muster, and
uttered only the words,

"'Pache! War-path!"

There was a dismal chorus of "Ugh!" from all who heard him, but there
was not one war-whoop. He was at once called upon for a minute and
careful account of the whole affair, including the locality and
condition of Judge Parks and his party of miners. He made his report
with a fullness and keenness of observation that stirred up the old
chief's family pride amazingly.

"Young chief," he remarked. "Do something more every time."

It looked very much like it, and his return as an intelligent and
successful scout added largely to all his other claims to distinction.
Not another boy in the band had ever announced anything so very bad and
so important.

That was no time for anybody to spend a thought upon the fame of Two
Arrows, however. All the old men said, one after another, that they
wished they knew just how many Apaches there were in that war-party. Had
they known how very strong it was, they might have been even worse
puzzled, but Long Bear was really a clear-headed leader, and he decided
the whole matter promptly and finally. He told his gathering braves that
the place where they were was a bad one to fight in, while their
pale-face friends had selected a peculiarly good one. They themselves
had but twenty-three warriors armed with rifles, and nearly as many more
young men and well-grown boys armed with bows and arrows. That was no
force with which to meet Apaches, nobody knew how many, and all sure to
be riflemen. To go back through the pass was to die of sure starvation,
even if they were not followed and slaughtered among the rocks. The
Apaches were plainly making for that very pass, he said; and he was only
a keen-eyed chief and not at all a prophet when he read the matter
correctly and said,

"'Pache run away from blue-coats. All in a hurry. Not stop. Nez Perce
hide and let them go b