dom now," he said. "There has been a
great battle in the Valley of the Greasy Grass. Custer, the Long Hair,
met Sitting Bull and his allies. And Custer and all his men are dead."

"Ho, hos," of joy greeted the announcement.

"Yet this is not good for you. There will be other battles. Your
brothers will have no time to come and rescue you. Even your friends,
the Scarred-Arms, will not help. For it is said that the Cheyenne
warriors are gone to join the Sioux----"

"What of the two white squaws that were captured?" asked
Shoot-at-the-Tree anxiously. "And what of us--is there danger?"

"The women are still with your people. And who knows what may happen
soon? So I come to speak of your delivery. I shall get you free--you
shall free my land."

"But our women," suggested Standing Buffalo, his eye straying toward a
tent at the stockade's centre; "they go free, too?"

"That is impossible. But what does it matter? When you are gone, your
women and children will be cared for--put upon a reservation. From
there, you can steal them back."

"But how can we get free?" inquired Lame Foot. "Tell us quickly."

Matthews drew the four chiefs' heads together and whispered to them.

After a time, all rose.

"Shall we have guns?" inquired Canada John.

"No--bows and arrows. I can get them, and hide them in my board lodge
across the river."

Lame Foot pouted. "Our brothers who are fighting have fine new rifles
from Standing Rock."

"Rifles I cannot get," said Matthews.

"But," said Standing Buffalo, "if we cross to your lodge and get our
bows and arrows, will not the pony soldiers follow in their
smoking-canoe?"

"Bah!" retorted the interpreter. "Am I like a pig for sense? The
smoking-canoe shall be gone."

The chiefs nodded.

"I must go," added Matthews. "There is no time for the pipe. Remember,
if you are discovered trying to escape, I know nothing of it. Then, I
shall try another plan. And keep everything from The Squaw. He is a
friend to the pony soldiers. He may tattle."

"And your reward," said Canada John, softly: "It is that The Plow-Woman
and her sister shall be----"

Matthews put a finger to his lips. "You will free my land," he said.

"When the night comes?" whispered Lame Foot. They pressed about
Matthews, taking his hands.

"When the night comes," he answered, "you will know by a sign. Let a
warrior keep watch. For it shall come when the moon dies. It shall be
the call of a mourning dove."

CH