They watched until the grove finally faded out in the twilight. Then they listened for sounds which might warn them of the arrival of a war party. It was barely dark when they heard signals passing across the plain. The cry of Ma-ya-sh sounded faintly from the west. It scarcely died away before an answer rose from the vicinity of the grove.

"The war party is coming," said Sun Bird.

"Listen!" cautioned White Otter.

They listened closely. Many moments passed. The stillness was unbroken.

"What was it?" inquired Sun Bird.

"I heard something, far away," White Otter told him. "It sounded like a pony. I believe some one stopped the noise."

As time passed and they heard nothing further, they felt sure that a company of foes had arrived at the grove. The thought made them uneasy. They feared that the two scouts would be sure to tell their companions about the pony tracks which crossed the ravine and led away toward the east. The Sioux recalled that the mysterious riders had spent some time looking toward the ridge.

"Perhaps they know we are here," said Sun Bird.

"Yes, I believe that is why they went away," replied White Otter. "I believe they went to tell their people about it. Their friends waited behind those trees to see if any one came over to this place."

"Well, they did not see us," said Sun Bird.

"No, they could not see us, but perhaps they know some one is watching them," White Otter told him. "Perhaps scouts will ride over here to find out about it. I believe scouts were close by when we were hiding over there in that gully. Now they will come to this hill. It would be foolish to stay here."

"Well, my brother, what do you propose to do?" inquired Sun Bird.

"I propose to find out about those people," replied White Otter.

"How can you do that?"

"Come, we will go to Little Raven," said White Otter. "Then I will tell you about it."

They crossed back over the ridge, and found Little Raven waiting with the ponies. He said he had seen nothing but a stray antelope on that side of the ridge.

"My brothers, you must listen sharp to what I am about to tell you," said White Otter. "I believe a war party is hiding over there where those trees grow. I do not know who it is. That is bad. Perhaps it is the Pawnees. The Pawnees are our enemies. Once they came to our village and did much harm. Perhaps they are going again to make war on my people. It is true that we came here to look for buffaloes. Well, we found something different. We are Dacotahs. We must find out who is over there. We must try to find out where they are going. Then we will know what to do. Perhaps we will do a big thing for my people."

White Otter paused and waited for his companions to speak. Many moments passed before Sun Bird finally replied.

"My brother, your words are good," he said. "You are a great war chief. You are the leader. Come, tell us what you propose to do."

"My brothers, I am going over there where the trees grow to find out who is there," declared White Otter. "Now listen sharp. There is only one way to do this thing. I believe scouts will come to this place. If we cross over this hill and go straight ahead we will meet them. We must not do that. I will tell you what to do. That gully where we hid ourselves goes a long ways toward the lodges of my people. It is good. We will follow this ridge that way. When we get past those trees, we will cross this ridge and ride over to that gully. Those people will go the other way to look for us. They will follow the tracks of our ponies. When we get to that gully we will listen. If we do not hear anything, I will go ahead and creep up to those trees. Perhaps I will find out who is there."

"You are very brave, but you must not go there alone," said Sun Bird. "You will be in great danger. I will go with you."

"No, you must not do that," White Otter told him. "You must stay behind and help Little Raven with the ponies. Then if anything bad happens to me, perhaps you can help me. It is the best way to do. Come, my brothers, we will go away before those scouts come over here and find us."

They rode northward along the base of the ridge. They went a long distance before White Otter finally turned toward the west. Then they rode to the top of the ridge, and stopped to listen. All was still. Darkness hid the grove. They knew that the ravine was directly ahead of them, and they advanced cautiously toward the west.

"Perhaps the ponies will call," Little Raven suggested, uneasily.

"We must be ready," White Otter cautioned him.

They rode across the plain in silence, alert for the first warning of danger. They realized that at any moment they might encounter scouts moving cautiously through the night along the flank of an advancing war party. When they finally reached the ravine, the night was far gone. White Otter and Sun Bird immediately dismounted, and climbed to the top of the ravine. They looked anxiously in the direction of the grove. It was hidden far away in the darkness. They watched for the tell-tale glow of a fire, but had little hope of seeing it.

"No, those people are not so foolish," declared White Otter.

"Well, my brother, if there is no fire it will be hard to see who they are," Sun Bird told him.

"Perhaps my ears will tell me that," replied White Otter. "I know the words of the Pawnees. I know the words of the Crows. I know the words of the Kiowas. I will get close to that place and listen sharp."

"White Otter, I believe it would be foolish to go over there," said Sun Bird. "If you will listen to my words, I will tell you something better."

"You are my brother, and you are a chief of the brave Minneconjoux—I will listen to your words," agreed White Otter.

"It is good," declared Sun Bird. "Now I will tell you how I feel about this thing. We are in a good place. Those people cannot see us when it gets light. You say perhaps those people are Pawnees. It may be true. You say perhaps they are going to fight your people. It may be true. You say it makes you feel bad. You say we must find out about it. It is true. I will tell you the best thing to do. We will stay here until the light comes. Then we will watch close. If any one comes away from that place we will see them. If they travel toward the lodges of your people they will go by this place. Then we will follow them. We will get close and find out who they are. If they go the other way, we will let them ride away. My brother, I believe it is the best thing to do."

White Otter kept silent. He was studying the plan of Sun Bird. The latter waited patiently for him to reply. It was some time before White Otter spoke.

"Sun Bird, I have listened to your words, but I will not do as you propose," he said, finally. "You say if those people are going to the lodges of my people they will pass this place. Perhaps they have passed by here in the darkness. If we wait here until the light comes perhaps it will be too late to help my people. My brother, I must find out about it. I am going to do what I told you about."

"Well, you are the leader," Sun Bird told him. "I will not talk any more against it."

"It is good," replied White Otter.

A few moments afterward he disappeared into the night. Choosing a star to guide him in the proper direction, he loped across the plain as easily and as silently as Ma-ya-sh, the wolf. Aware that there was a possibility of blundering into his foes, he stopped many times to listen. The great plain was steeped in silence. He believed that the strangers had remained in the grove. The thought somewhat relieved his anxiety for his people. He had little fear for himself. Having passed through many thrilling adventures, he had learned to look upon danger and death with the stolid indifference of the seasoned warrior.

White Otter had gone a long distance from the ravine when he suddenly heard the long, dismal wail of a prairie wolf rising through the night. The cry had sounded somewhere near the ridge upon which the Sioux had passed the day. White Otter smiled as he realized that his prophecy about the scouts had been verified.

"They did not find us," he murmured.

As the call was not repeated, he continued toward the grove. He believed that the scouts were notifying their comrades that the country was free of foes. White Otter found keen satisfaction in the thought of outwitting them. He had little doubt that they were his hated foes, the Pawnees, and he felt certain that they were on a war expedition.

As he approached the grove, White Otter slackened his pace and became as alert and cautious as To-ka-la, the little gray fox. He knew that if a war party had taken possession of the grove, sentinels had been stationed on the plain to watch for foes.

"Now I must be cautious," he told himself.

Soon afterward he saw the grim, black outlines of the grove directly ahead of him. It was a number of arrow flights away, however, and he stopped to listen. He heard nothing. Then he advanced. Slowly, cautiously, he moved through the darkness, listening and watching for the sentinels who he feared were close at hand. Then he heard a pony snort. He stopped and waited in breathless suspense. He decided that the sound had come from the grove. He advanced still more cautiously. When he finally came within bowshot of the trees, he suddenly realized his peril. Alone and on foot, he knew that once discovered there would be little chance of escape. Still he was unafraid. Familiarity with danger had given him confidence.

"I will get away," he kept telling himself.

Then he suddenly heard the murmur of voices. For an instant the sound alarmed him. He had approached nearer the grove than he had supposed. He sank noiselessly to the plain. He lay there some time, endeavoring to identify the speakers. It was hopeless. The voices were low and indistinct, and he could not distinguish the words. He realized that he must go nearer. He crept slowly forward, a bow length at a time. Then he stopped to listen. The voices had ceased. His heart beat wildly. An alarming possibility flashed through his mind. Had he been discovered? It seemed impossible. He banished the thought. The silence, however, made him suspicious.

"Perhaps they are listening," he whispered.

The silence continued. White Otter was perplexed. He was less than half a bowshot from the cottonwoods. He heard the leaves trembling. He moistened his finger, and found the direction of the breeze. It was stirring toward the grove. He felt relieved. It seemed less likely that he had been discovered. Still he was uneasy. The sudden hush alarmed him.

"Yes, they must be listening," he declared.

A moment afterward a pony whinnied. It seemed to be on the other side of the grove. It was answered by several ponies in the timber. Then some one called. The signal was low and guarded. A reply came from the grove. White Otter heard hoofbeats. Some one was riding toward the cottonwoods. White Otter listened in trying suspense. He heard many voices. He breathed easier. The mystery was explained. He suddenly realized that the scouts had returned. It was the sound of their approach that had hushed the speakers in the grove.

"It is good," White Otter said, with great relief.

He believed that as the scouts had failed to find evidence of foes, the company in the grove might grow bolder. The next few moments seemed to confirm his hopes. The strangers were talking with far less caution. Still he was unable to catch their words.

"I must go nearer," he said.

He crawled carefully toward the timber, stopping after each bow length to watch and listen. The sounds from the grove reassured him. The warriors were talking and laughing, and apparently had little fear of attack. The ponies, too, were making considerable noise. He heard them stamping, and grunting and shaking themselves. However, he felt quite certain that they were securely picketed.

The sky was sprinkled with stars, and it was possible to see several bow lengths through the night, but White Otter knew that it would be impossible to penetrate the sinister black shadows which enveloped the grove. His ears alone might tell him what he wished to know. He was quite familiar with the words of the Pawnees, and the Crows, and had heard the dialect of the Kiowas, and he hoped to identify the strangers by their talk. It was a difficult and perilous undertaking, for White Otter knew that to be successful he must approach close up to the edge of the timber.

The night was well advanced and he knew that there was little time to spare. The ravine was far away, and he realized that he would be compelled to exert himself to the utmost to reach it before daylight betrayed him to his foes. Once discovered on the open plain there would be little hope of escape. He determined to make his attempt without further delay. For a moment only he hesitated, while he turned his face toward the sky.

"Wa-kan-tun-ka, make me strong to do this thing," he murmured.

Then he began his perilous, stealthy advance toward the timber.

The sounds convinced him that the strangers were assembled at the pool in the center of the grove. He feared, however, that sharp-eared sentinels might be lurking at the edge of the plain. Aware that the slightest sound might betray him, he sank close to the earth and crept forward as cautiously as a panther stalking its prey. It took many moments to go a bow length. He had stopped behind a dense cluster of bushes close to the edge of the timber, when he was startled by the sound of voices within several bow lengths of him. He believed he had encountered the sentinels. Scarcely daring to breathe, he pressed his body against the plain and listened. The words of the speakers came distinctly to his ears. He failed to recognize them. They were not the words of the Pawnees. They did not sound like the words of the Crows. The dialect seemed strange and unfamiliar. For some moments White Otter was confused. He wondered if his ears were deceiving him. Then he suddenly identified the peculiar accent. Several years before he had heard it in the Kiowa camp. The mystery was solved. The people in the grove were Kiowas.

Having learned the identity of his foes, White Otter was equally eager to know if it was a war party or only a company of hunters. He saw little chance of gaining the information. Unable to see the warriors or to understand their words, there seemed no way to guess the intentions of the Kiowas. In the meantime the night was slipping by. Daylight was not far off. White Otter knew that it would be perilous to loiter. Nevertheless he waited, each moment hoping to hear something which might tell him whether the Kiowas were out for peace or war. At last he was rewarded. He heard sounds in the timber which convinced him that the Kiowas were dancing, and singing their war songs. The scouts at the edge of the grove had joined in the chant, and White Otter seized the opportunity to retreat.

Raising himself from the ground, he crawled slowly backward until he had gone a bow length. Then he stopped to listen. The sounds still came from the grove, but he heard nothing from the sentinels. Their silence aroused his fears. Alarming possibilities suggested themselves. Were the Kiowa sentinels listening? Had he betrayed himself? He sank to the plain and waited. The moments seemed endless. The uncertainty tried his courage. He was tempted to spring to his feet, and dash wildly across the plain. He realized that the Kiowas would soon overtake him. Then he heard the sentinels talking and making their way into the grove. They had abandoned their vigil. His heart filled with joy. He had accomplished his mission. The way was open. He was free to go.

The eastern sky was already turning gray when White Otter finally approached the spot where he had left Sun Bird and Little Raven. He stopped and imitated the bark of the little gray fox. Three times he gave the signal. Then he listened for an answer. A familiar voice sounded softly through the darkness.

"The way is clear," said Sun Bird.

A moment afterward White Otter joined him at the top of the ravine. They descended into the gully to join Little Raven.

"Well, my brothers, I have found out about those people," White Otter told his companions. "They are Kiowas. I believe it is a war party."

"How did you find out about it?" inquired Little Raven.

"I went ahead until I got close to those trees," said White Otter. "Then I crawled up behind some bushes. Then I heard some one talking. I did not know the words. Pretty soon I found out about it. It sounded like the Kiowas. I waited a long time. Then I heard those people dancing and singing. Then I said: 'It is a war party.' That is all I know about it."

"Well, pretty soon it will be light," Sun Bird told him. "Then we will find out what the Kiowas propose to do."

"Yes, we must watch them until we know where they are going," said White Otter.