it was a terrible moment. a dozen guns came into sight and half of them were already presented and the click of the locks was heard on every side, when the still outstretched revolver was knocked from hare’s hand into the lake by one of his companions, and the loud voice of running water arrested the leaden storm which in another instant would have dealt destruction upon the dismayed white men.

but, although the guns were lowered at the chief’s command, they were not put down, and for some minutes there was a jargon of loud and angry words among the indians, with fierce gestures and scowls, and it was evidently all that their leader could do to restrain them from taking instant vengeance for the outrage which had been inflicted upon them.

some raised and succored the man who had been shot, but his wound was evidently mortal, and as they tried to stanch the blood which flowed profusely from his breast, their wrath and grief broke out afresh and threatened to set the authority of their leader at defiance.

running water, in fact, did not look much less indignant than his comrades, when, their clamor having abated, he turned toward congo, and asked, in a mournful voice:

“why have my brothers done this?”

captain meinhold was about replying, when buffalo bill laid his hand upon his arm and said:

“wait! let joe be our spokesman, since he has already done so well. tell him the truth, joe, and see that the whole blame falls where it belongs.”

the chief repeated his question, and joe, getting as near to him as he could, replied, rubbing his eyes:

“i tell you wot, cap’n—it’s all a mistake.”

“no un’stan’.”

“you see dis man?” pointing to captain meinhold.

the indian nodded.

“he is our chief. he good man; we all goody men, except him,” pointing to hare.

“what do you mean, you black rascal?” said the excited man.

“keep still, hare,” replied cody authoritatively, “or you will be compelled to. this matter has got to be explained. you would not take our advice, and you must now bear the blame of your own actions.”

“i did what i thought was right.”

“very well! and now we shall do what we think is right. you just keep still, that’s all you’ve got to do.”

“he bad man,” continued congo. “he shooty-shooty. we try to stop him berry much. we all berry sorry. cap’n running water—berry,” and again the negro knuckled his eyes and almost brought tears.

all this had to be repeated several times before it was understood, and when the chief had explained it to his people their concentrated gaze of hatred fell upon the rash offender, who evidently quailed before it.

“we came in peace,” said running water. “we brought presents to our white brothers. see!”

he pointed, as he spoke, to a very large salmon trout and a string of black bass which lay in one of the boats, together with a bundle of dried corn and a gourd full of wild strawberries, red and luscious.

the offerings left no doubt of the pacific—nay, friendly—nature of the visit, and the blush of shame succeeded the ashen hue of fear on the cheek of the guilty man as he gazed upon them.

captain meinhold now addressed the chief, expressing the deepest sorrow for what had happened, and begging that they might be forgiven and be permitted to proceed on their voyage, as they were a party of shipwrecked men in great distress, being separated from their friends, and some of them from wives and children at their homes, besides the women in their charge.

having seemingly made himself understood by words and signs, he next collected and offered to the chief all the silver coin in possession of the company, and hare, taking the hint from these proceedings, hastily drew out his watch and handed it to the captain to be added to the presents.

but running water turned scornfully away from these gifts, and refused to receive or to look at them.

“we must not sell our brother’s blood,” he said, and, turning to his men, he conferred with them for a few minutes, and then announced, as the general voice of his party, that the white men were all at liberty to proceed on their voyage, except the offender, who must be given up to them to be dealt with after their customs.

hare turned pale and trembled very much when this decision was announced, but no argument or entreaties of his own or of his friends could produce any change or sign of wavering in the minds of the red men.

they listened attentively to all that was said, but still running water replied to it all in the same words, and almost in the same tone.

“life for life,” was their law. he was very sorry for the young man, he said, but he could not protect[249] him, if he would, from those who had a right to demand his blood—the relations of the slain man.

“pray don’t give me up, gentlemen,” exclaimed hare. “they will burn me at the stake. they will torture me for a whole day.”

“we can’t possibly save you, hare,” replied the captain. “we have no weapons excepting three small pistols, and here are twenty-six armed men.”

“don’t give me up!”

“we certainly shall not give you up,” said buffalo bill; “but we can’t prevent them from taking you. the best that i can advise you to do, is to meet your fate like a man. as to their torturing you, i don’t believe they will do it.

“even as it is, we might fight for you if it were not for the women. if we make a fight, they will be killed—or, worse still, made prisoners and forced to live all their lives as the squaws of brutal savages.

“i will speak to the indians about the torturing, and beg them to let you off it; or, rather, if our friends agree, we will all return with you to their village, and see if anything further can be done for you.”

“thank you a thousand times, cody. yes, stay by me to the last.”

“i will do that,” replied cody, “and try to save you even at the eleventh hour.”

“it will be something to have my friends near me, and not be left quite alone with these demons,” moaned hare. “oh, my father—my poor father! it will break his heart when he hears of this, and it will break my wife’s heart, too.”

several of the white party protested earnestly against returning with the indians, saying that it would mean running into terrible and unnecessary danger.

there was no telling what might happen when the savages were incited to wrath by their women and by their orators, who would harangue them over the dead body of the murdered man and demand a tenfold retribution.

buffalo bill, however, with the aid of captain meinhold, persuaded the men to stay by their comrade.

it was at first proposed by the whites that hare should remain with them on the way back to the village, but when this was attempted running water directed that he be put at once into one of the canoes, which movement better suited the indians, who seemed anxious to get hold of their prisoner at once.

he was taken into the very boat which held his unfortunate victim, who was already quite dead.

hare was made to sit down in the bottom of the craft, alongside of the corpse. the horror of his position was indescribable, and was fully expressed in his countenance, although he strove hard to maintain some degree of fortitude and manliness.

“promise that you will shoot me, cody, if it comes to the worst,” he said eagerly, “and not let me be tortured. for heaven’s sake, promise me that.”

“we will do all that we can for you,” was the evasive reply; “but remember that we are all in the power of these men, and that we have to be careful not to give them further offense, for the sake of the women, if not for our own.”

the wretched man sighed, and looked over into the blue waters of the lake, as if he were tempted to throw himself into their calm depths and thus end his woes. but watchful eyes were upon him and active hands would have defeated any such attempt.

running water made no objection to buffalo bill and his companions returning with them to the village.

he said, indeed, that they would be quite welcome, and would be at liberty to depart whenever they chose; but he warned them that they must not attempt to interfere in any way with the course of justice, or he would not be answerable for the consequences.

of course the chief did not use exactly this language, but he contrived by words and signs to express himself in that way.

running water, who had waited with perfect composure and patience while the white men were discussing among themselves, now began the signal for starting to his own men.

the little fleet of canoes began to glide swiftly forward in the direction of the indian village, followed more leisurely by the heavier boats of the white party, which was soon left far behind, and to which the prisoner continued to look eagerly back. he feared, indeed, that his friends, finding themselves so entirely at liberty, might change their minds and desert him, after all.

this fear of his, indeed, was not by any means unreasonable or without justification.

when the indian canoes had got some distance ahead, one of the men in the white party stopped rowing at his oar, and said:

“what’s the use of going on? we can’t save that poor fellow, and we shall only run ourselves into danger, and the women, too.”

“we can’t abandon him now,” replied cody. “we gave him our promise and we can’t go back on it. we should be disgraced for life if we did.”

“it’s no use for us to indulge in any hope, or to promise what we cannot do—and shall not attempt,” was the blunt retort.

“we certainly shall attempt it,” said cody, with a dangerous gleam in his eye, as he drew out of his belt one of the few pistols possessed by the party, which had been confided to his care.

he did not level it at the man, but the latter read his meaning plainly enough, and quailed visibly.

“we must stand by our own comrade to the last,” buffalo bill went on quietly. “pick up that oar and go on rowing.”

the man obeyed without a word.