s only a matter of days when
they would whoop and howl with the loudest.

The principal chief of the Kiowas was Satanta, a powerful and
resourceful warrior, who, because of remarkable talents for
speech-making, was called "The Orator of the Plains." Satanta was short
and bullet-headed. Hatred for the whites swelled every square inch
of his breast, but he had the deep cunning of his people, with some
especially fine points of treachery learned from dealings with dishonest
agents and traders. There probably never was an Indian so depraved that
he could not be corrupted further by association with a rascally white
man.

When the Kiowas were friendly with the government, Satanta received a
guest with all the magnificence the tribe afforded. A carpet was spread
for the white man to sit upon, and a folding board was set up for a
table. The question of expense never intruded.

Individually, too, Satanta put on a great deal of style. Had the
opportunity come to him, he would have worn a silk hat with a sack-coat,
or a dress suit in the afternoon. As it was, he produced some startling
effects with blankets and feathers.

It was part of General Hazen's mission to Fort Larned to patch up a
treaty with the outraged Kiowas and Comanches, if it could be brought
about. On one warm August morning, the general set out for Fort Zarah,
on a tour of inspection. Zarah was on the Arkansas, in what is now
Barton County, Kansas. An early start was made, as it was desired to
cover the thirty miles by noon. The general rode in a four-mule army
ambulance, with an escort of ten foot soldiers, in a four-mule escort
wagon.

After dinner at Zarah the general went on to Fort Harker, leaving orders
for the scout and soldiers to return to Larned on the following day. But
as there was nothing to do at Fort Zarah, Will determined to return at
once; so he trimmed the sails of his mule-ship, and squared away for
Larned.

The first half of the journey was without incident, but when Pawnee Rock
was reached, events began to crowd one another. Some forty Indians rode
out from behind the rock and surrounded the scout.

"How? How?" they cried, as they drew near, and offered their hands for
the white man's salutation.

The braves were in war paint, and intended mischief; but there was
nothing to be lost by returning their greeting, so Will extended his
hand.

One warrior seized it and gave it a violent jerk; another caught the
mule's bridle; a third p