killed
wild animals and won for himself a name and fame, but in spite of that
he almost despised them. What could he do now, for instance, against an
Apache well armed, as all that warlike tribe were said to be?

He also had a prejudiced idea that if Sile were to meet one of them he
would be in a manner helpless--a mere ignorant, green, untaught,
unready, white boy, not the son of a Nez Perce chief, nor skilled in the
wiles and ways of Western warfare. As for himself, he felt quite
confident that all he needed wherewith to meet and overcome anything or
anybody was just such a perfect "repeater" as Sile carried. He somehow
overlooked the fact that he had never practised much with one, while
Sile belonged to the race that made them. He had been used to a bow and
arrows from the time he had learned to ride, and almost from the time he
had learned to walk; so that, after all, they might be his safest
weapon.

He rode on steadily for a few miles, and then he crossed the stream and
proceeded under cover of the trees. It was time to travel more slowly,
for his pony had no gallop left in him. The approach to the camp even
was made with some caution, but there was no need of any.

The sun was going down, and the fires were blazing brightly. The hunters
had done well that day, and there were preparations for much eating. Two
Arrows knew at a glance that all things were working prosperously, and
that his people had no suspicion of any danger near them. The vast
importance of his errand filled him very full, and he halted under the
shadow of the trees.

Warriors were stalking around here and there, or were lazily stretched
upon the ground. Squaws were busily dressing skins, or cooking or
chattering with one another, and children were hungrily watching the
cookery and wishing that their turns to be fed might come pretty soon.
Old One-eye was at work upon a well-covered bone before going out for
his usual night-watch and patrol, but he was suddenly called upon to
drop it and to raise his head for a howl.

Out of the growing darkness in the edge of the woods there came a quick
series of sharp, threatening, warning whoops, uttered in a shrill and
youthful voice that the dog knew perfectly. So did others, for Long Bear
sprang to his feet, exclaiming,

"Ugh! Two Arrows!" and answered him with a whoop of such volume and
meaning that every brave and boy who heard it understood it as a
command, and ran for his weapons first, and then