those nearest the pariah made
peremptory gestures.

A second Charley stood uncertainly. Then the look of one accused came
into his face. He tottered backward, through the lodge opening, and out
into the snow.

The council continued.

A dozen warriors followed the war-priest in speech-making. Each of them
said no more than he. To Colonel Cummings' disgust, each one said no
less. Added to the tediousness of it all were Matthews'
interpretations. Toward three o'clock, however, the prime object of the
meeting was reached.

When the commanding officer at last rose, he was in no mood to mince
matters. He used few words, but they were forcible. He asked the
interpreter to repeat them precisely.

They had their effect. While Matthews was doing this, the colonel did
not glance away from the council-fire, yet he knew that in the
semicircle there was genuine consternation. Grunts, startled, angry,
threatening, ran up and down the line. Those warriors named for possible
execution alone were silent.

Presently, one of the others spoke. "If we tell you where to go, how do
we know the white chief will not fall upon the winter camp of our
brothers as Custer, The Long-Hair, fell upon Black Kettle's?"

"I am not going with the pony soldiers," Matthews hastened to say.
"Across the Muddy Water, where the road passes, is a wide piece of land
which has been stolen from me."

One of the four condemned glanced up. It was Lame Foot. "By The
Plow-Woman?" he asked.

"By her father. I shall stay until that land is mine again. One of you
must ask your chief that he give up the pale-face squaws."

Canada John answered him. "A brave can but take the words of the white
chief. That is not well. One of a double tongue must go."

"The white chief has but one," said Matthews, and tapped his own chest.

A silence followed.

"The journey begins when the sun is little," he added, and sat down.

"Will not the white chief wait until spring?" asked Lame Foot, whose
guile made up for his physical defect.

The others studied Colonel Cummings' face as the question was put to
him. They saw the purpose--postponement, which might bring freedom for
them, and also a retention of the captive women.

The colonel's answer did not need interpreting. "No!" he said, and
struck his knees with his open palms.

"Why should two squaws matter?" asked Shoot-at-the-Tree. "Are there not
many everywhere? We will give the white chief some of our ponies."

"You