Having resolved to carry a warning to their friends, the Cheyennes, the Sioux abandoned their peaceful hunting expedition, and prepared for war. The idea filled them with enthusiasm. The Kiowas were old foes who stole Sioux ponies and killed Sioux hunters at every opportunity, and the three young scouts were ready and eager to make war upon them. It was not the first time they had maneuvered against the Kiowas, and they had learned from experience that the latter were brave and crafty foes.

"White Otter, you are a great war chief, you must be the leader," declared Sun Bird.

"Yes, White Otter, you are the leader," agreed Little Raven. "Tell us what you propose to do."

"We must get to the Cheyenne village ahead of the Kiowas," White Otter told them. "We will not follow them. We will circle back toward the Cheyenne lodges. Come, we must go."

They turned about and rode in the direction of the Cheyenne camp. It was a day's journey distant, and they realized that to beat the Kiowas they must reach the village before the next sunrise. The day was almost gone, and the light was fading from the plain. Aware that it would be necessary to ride continuously through the night, they held the ponies to an easy canter. As they rode they kept a sharp watch to the eastward where the heavy night shadows were already forming. They were fearful that the Kiowas might have discovered them. In that event they felt sure that those crafty foes would endeavor to intercept them before they reached the Cheyennes.

"There is a hill over there," White Otter said, suspiciously. "It is bad. Perhaps the Kiowas are riding along behind it."

They looked anxiously into the east, but the ridge had vanished into the dusk. They wondered if grim Kiowa warriors were racing along behind the barrier. The idea troubled them. They rode faster. The approach of darkness, however, gave them confidence. They believed it would be possible to elude their foes under cover of the night.

When they finally turned toward the east the plain was dark. They rode more cautiously. It was not long before they heard sounds which made them suspicious. A wolf howled somewhere ahead of them. They immediately stopped to listen. They heard it a second time, but it seemed perfectly natural.

"It sounds like Ma-ya-sh," said Little Raven.

"I believe it is a Kiowa," White Otter told him. "We must watch out."

They turned from their course, and rode on at a walk. Before they had gone an arrow flight, they heard the cry of the wolf a short distance north of them. They wondered if the scout who had called before had circled to search for them.

"No, I believe it is some one different," whispered White Otter. "It did not sound the same."

"Your ears are sharp," said Sun Bird.

A moment afterward a pony whinnied shrilly. Little Raven's pony replied. They stopped in alarm. It was apparent that the Kiowas were on all sides of them. They feared that the pony had betrayed them. They were at a loss to know just what to do.

"Listen," cautioned White Otter.

They waited anxiously to hear the hoofbeats of advancing ponies. The plain was still. They wondered if the Kiowas, too, had stopped to listen. The possibility made them cautious. They feared to ride away before they located their foes. They believed that if the Kiowas heard them they might close in and make it impossible to escape. Their only chance seemed to be to withdraw quietly, and slip away in the darkness.

"It is bad," White Otter whispered. "Perhaps some of the Kiowas will try to keep us here until their friends ride to the Cheyenne camp."

"Yes, yes, I believe it is what they are trying to do," declared Sun Bird.

The thought aroused them. They realized that each moment of delay lessened the chance of arriving at the Cheyenne village in time to warn their friends. They feared that the war party was racing wildly through the night in an effort to beat them to the goal.

"We must go ahead," said White Otter.

They rode cautiously toward the east. When they had gone several arrow flights without encountering their foes they became bolder. They urged the ponies to a canter. A moment later a piercing yell rose behind them. It was answered on both sides of them. They heard the hoofbeats of galloping ponies.

"Keep going! Keep going!" cried White Otter.

Aware that further caution would be useless, they lashed the ponies to top speed, and began a wild race across the plain. They heard the Kiowas thundering after them. They were whooping savagely, and the Sioux learned that they were on three sides of them. The front appeared to be open. Then White Otter suddenly suspected a trap.

"Watch out for the hill!" he cried, warningly.

They feared that other Kiowas were waiting for them on top of the ridge. There seemed to be no way to avoid them. With foes on both sides of them, they were forced to ride ahead. Ready to fight those who might attempt to bar the way, they stared anxiously into the night for a sight of the low, black barrier that threatened them with disaster. It soon loomed up through the darkness. They drew their bows and prepared to fight. Then, when they had almost reached the base of the ridge, White Otter attempted a bold bit of stratagem to outwit his foes.

"Stop! Stop!" he cried.

They threw the ponies upon their haunches. Then they listened. The Kiowas rushed past them. White Otter saw his opportunity. There was not a moment to spare.

"Come!" he shouted, as he rode wildly toward the south.

The trick had been successful. The Kiowas rode part way up the ridge before they discovered that they had passed their foes. Then they dashed recklessly down the slope, and stopped for an instant to learn which way the Sioux had gone.

"Follow me," cried White Otter.

When they had gone a bowshot, the Sioux turned up the ridge and swept over the summit before the Kiowas who were waiting to intercept them learned what had happened. They reached the level plain and were a full bowshot away when they heard the Kiowas riding furiously down the ridge in pursuit of them.

"Ride faster!" shouted White Otter.

They forced the ponies to the utmost in an effort to get beyond hearing of their foes. The Kiowas had become quiet. Even the sounds from their ponies had died away. The Sioux felt encouraged. They believed they had ridden beyond earshot of their pursuers. Still they kept the ponies to the exhausting pace, for they determined to make the most of their advantage.

"We have fooled them—it is good," laughed White Otter. "They cannot hear us. They do not know which way to go."

"White Otter, you are as sharp as To-ka-la, the fox," Sun Bird told him.

"Yes, yes, you were too sharp for the Kiowas," declared Little Raven.

"Well, my brothers, we must not feel too big about this thing," White Otter cautioned them. "The war party is ahead of us. We must watch out."

He had barely ceased speaking when they heard the wolf cry rising through the night. It sounded far behind them. Three times it echoed across the plain. They knew at once that it was a signal.

"The scouts are telling their friends about us," said White Otter.

They listened for an answer. They hoped it would give them a clew to the whereabouts of the war party. There was no reply. It was evident that the main company of Kiowas were either beyond hearing or too cautious to betray themselves. The first possibility gave the Sioux considerable concern. If the war party was beyond hearing, they realized that it was far in advance of them. They wondered if their ponies were equal to the task of overtaking their foes.

"We must go faster," White Otter said, impatiently.

The ponies were running at speed which few ponies in the Dacotah nation could equal, and the Sioux believed that if they could maintain the pace they would eventually overtake and pass the Kiowas. The gallant little beasts showed no signs of weakening, and the riders made no effort to spare them. White Otter rode a fiery little piebald which had been presented to him by Curly Horse, the war chief of the Minneconjoux Sioux. It had proved its powers on an expedition against the Blackfeet the year previous, when it outran the famous black war pony of the Blackfeet chief. Many Buffaloes. White Otter had little fear that it would fail him in the present emergency. Sun Bird rode a wiry little roan, that had proved a worthy competitor of the piebald. Little Raven was mounted upon a wild-eyed pinto, which White Otter had presented to him several years before. It, too, was famous for speed and endurance.

Convinced that there was slight danger of being overtaken by the scouts, the Sioux fixed their thoughts upon the war party. The wolf calls still came from the west, but there was no response from the east. White Otter wondered if the main force of Kiowas really were as far away as they appeared to be.

"Perhaps they are watching for us," suggested Sun Bird. "Perhaps they are keeping quiet so that we will not know where they are."

"It may be true," said White Otter.

They had little doubt that the Kiowas would make every effort to prevent them from carrying a warning to the Cheyenne camp. White Otter believed that the war party planned to approach the village under cover of the night, and make a sudden attack at daylight.

"We will tell the Cheyennes about it," he said. "They will be ready when the Kiowas come to fight them."

The Sioux were still a long distance from their goal, however, and they feared to become too confident. Two disturbing possibilities confronted them. One was that they might eventually encounter the war party. The other was that the courageous little ponies might suddenly collapse with exhaustion. The latter thought caused them the most anxiety. They decided to ride at an easier pace. Then White Otter resolved to turn more to the southward in the hope of passing the Kiowas. He also believed that it would offer a shorter and more direct route to the Cheyenne camp.

The signals from the west had ceased, and the Sioux wondered if the scouts had abandoned hope of getting into communication with the war party. Then the hateful call suddenly sounded across the plain. It seemed considerably nearer. They were perplexed. Had the Kiowas actually gained upon them? It seemed unlikely.

"Perhaps we have passed the war party," said Sun Bird.

"It is mysterious," declared White Otter. "I believe we are running into danger."

They stopped for a moment to listen. The ponies had barely come to a standstill when they heard another signal directly ahead of them. It was so distinct and close at hand that it startled them. The one who had made it seemed to be within arrow range. The Sioux believed that they had overtaken the war party. The thought roused them. They wondered if the Kiowas had discovered them. They heard a horse cantering across the plain. It was somewhere on their right. It passed, and they felt relieved. Then they heard voices. The speakers were within bow range. The rider was moving toward them. The voices ceased as the pony drew near. Then the Sioux heard a low, cautious challenge pass between the scouts. A moment afterward they resumed their talk. The rider had joined his friends.

"The Kiowas have left scouts behind to watch," White Otter whispered. "Pretty soon those other scouts will come. We must get away."

Then several of the Kiowa ponies called, and the Sioux rode away at a furious pace. The Kiowas instantly raised the alarm, and raced after them. White Otter heard an arrow pass over his head.

"Keep low on your ponies!" he cried. "The Kiowas are shooting their arrows."

The Sioux ponies soon carried their riders beyond danger, and then White Otter veered sharply in his course and threw the Kiowas from the trail. Although there seemed to have been a number of riders, the Sioux believed that they were scouts, and that the war party was still riding toward the Cheyenne camp.

"They will not catch us again," laughed White Otter, as he turned still farther to the southward.