Elated at the successful escape of the women and children, the Cheyennes awaited the Kiowas with less anxiety. They stood at the edge of the village, listening for a warning from the scouts. Some of the older boys had been appointed to stand beside the piles of brush, ready to light them at the command of their chief. A small detail of warriors surrounded the corral to prevent the Kiowas from running off the ponies. The old men kept the fires blazing fiercely in the center of the camp. Everything was ready. The Cheyennes were eager to begin the fight.

"Perhaps the Kiowas are afraid to come," laughed old Ghost Bear.

"Keep watching—they will come," Red Dog warned him.

When half of the night had passed, and they had heard nothing of the war party, some of the younger warriors began to repeat the words of Ghost Bear. The older men cautioned them against becoming too confident. They believed that the Kiowas were delaying the attack with the hope of catching them off their guard.

"The Kiowas are sharp," said Red Dog. "We must watch out or they will fool us."

Soon afterward the warriors along the southerly side of the camp called out that they had heard a signal. The bark of the little gray fox had sounded far away to the southward. The Cheyennes listened in tense silence. In a few moments the signal was repeated. They knew it had come from one of their scouts. They turned to one another in surprise. Having expected the Kiowas to approach from the west, the call in the south perplexed them.

"It is bad," said Red Dog. "The Kiowas have separated."

"Perhaps scouts went over there to find out who came to the camp," suggested Painted Weasel.

"Yes, that may be true," Red Dog replied, thoughtfully.

Then they heard another signal. It sounded from the West, and was nearer the camp. Red Dog saw his suspicions confirmed. He was confident that the Kiowas had separated into two companies.

"They are coming up on both sides of us," declared Painted Weasel.

A moment later they heard hoofbeats. A pony was racing toward them, from the west. The dogs barked furiously. The Cheyennes believed that one of the scouts was approaching, but they determined to be prepared. They drew their bows, and watched suspiciously. The pony stopped when it came within arrow range. Then they heard the familiar signal.

"Who are you?" inquired Red Dog.

"Thunder Hawk," said a voice from the darkness.

"Ride ahead," Red Dog told him.

In a few moments Thunder Hawk entered the camp. He said that the Kiowas had separated into two companies. One had ridden toward the south. The other was approaching from the west.

"Running Buffalo followed the Kiowas who rode away," said Thunder Hawk. "White Horse is watching the Kiowas who are coming toward the village. He sent me here to tell you about it."

"Did you hear us making that noise?" Red Dog asked him.

"Yes, we heard ponies running, and shouts, and then we heard the war songs," said Thunder Hawk. "After that the Kiowas rode away."

"They must be scouts," said Red Dog. "Perhaps they are trying to find out who came here."

"No, they are not scouts," declared Thunder Hawk. "There are many ponies. It is a big war party. I believe they are the warriors who came from the Place-where-the-sun-sleeps."

"Then I know about it," said Red Dog. "I believe scouts saw the ponies out there on the plain. Those riders who went away are going to circle around, and try to run off those ponies. Well, we will fool them. The ponies are here."

"Yes, yes, that is what they propose to do," the Cheyennes told one another.

While they were talking, they heard some one approaching from the south. They felt certain it was Running Buffalo. He stopped and imitated the bark of the little gray fox. Then he galloped to the camp.

"Get ready to fight!" cried Running Buffalo. "The Kiowas are coming. They are close behind me. They are trying to find the ponies."

"The ponies are here," Red Dog told him, as he pointed toward the corral.

"It is good," said Running Buffalo. "My brothers, there are many Kiowas in that war party."

"We are ready," Red Dog said, grimly.

Having learned that the Kiowas were advancing upon the camp, the Cheyennes listened anxiously for the approach of White Horse. As time passed, and he failed to arrive, they became uneasy about him. They wondered what had caused him to loiter. They feared that the Kiowas who were approaching from the south might circle about the village and trap him.

"I will go out there and find him," Thunder Hawk proposed, impulsively.

"Wait," cautioned Red Dog. "White Horse is sharp. The Kiowas will not catch him. He is waiting to find out about something. He will come."

As he finished speaking they heard the signal in the north. It filled them with alarm. Their thoughts turned to Cloud Eagle and the helpless company in his care. Had the crafty Kiowas sent scouts into the north? The Cheyennes weakened at the possibility. They waited in breathless suspense for White Horse to reach the camp.

White Horse soon relieved their fears. He said that the Kiowas who were advancing from the west had stopped some distance out on the plain. Then he had circled toward the north to make sure that scouts had not gone in that direction. He had heard nothing to arouse his suspicions.

"It is good," declared Red Dog.

"I do not believe the Kiowas know anything about our people who went away," said White Horse. "I believe they came here to run off ponies. When they found out that we knew about it, they sent scouts to bring more warriors. Now they are going to make a big fight. Those people I was watching will wait out there until they hear their friends moving ahead. Then they will all rush in. I believe scouts are creeping toward the camp. We must watch sharp."

"White Horse, your words are good," said Red Dog. "I believe you have found out what the Kiowas propose to do."

Realizing that the Kiowas might begin the attack at any moment, the Cheyennes stood at the edge of the camp, weapons in hand, watching and listening for their foes. They had little doubt that scouts were moving cautiously through the darkness in an effort to reconnoiter the camp. The thought kept them alert. They listened sharply for the sound of stealthy footfalls. For a long time, however, all was still. Then a pony snorted, in the corral. A dog harked savagely outside the camp.

"Light the fires!" cried Red Dog.

The boys shoved glowing embers into the brush piles. A moment afterward they burst into flames. A wide circle of light spread about the camp. The Cheyennes looked for their foes. They had retreated into the night.

"It was a scout; he was trying to find the ponies," explained a warrior at the corral.

Believing that the Kiowas were close to the camp, Red Dog ordered the boys to keep the fires blazing. The warriors crouched in the shadows from the lodges. They heard nothing further from their foes. They wondered if the scouts had been frightened away.

"The Kiowas are like wolves," laughed Painted Weasel. "They are afraid of the fires."

As if to verify his words, the dismal wail of Ma-ya-sh, the prairie wolf, sounded from the south. The Cheyennes started at the sound. They knew it was a signal from the war party. They believed the Kiowas were ready to advance.

"Watch out!" shouted Red Dog. "The Kiowas are coming."

The wolf call was repeated in the west. It had barely died away before the Kiowa war cry echoed shrilly through the night. The Cheyennes answered the challenge. Then the Kiowas raced toward the camp. They rode close up to the lodges, but the Cheyennes were prepared, and drove them back with a deadly volley of arrows. The Kiowas turned and sought shelter in the darkness.

"We have chased them back," the Cheyennes cried, excitedly.

"Keep watching," Red Dog cautioned them.

The Kiowas were riding around the camp, and yelling fiercely. They appeared to be attempting to stampede the ponies. The latter were plunging and snorting in terror, and those in the corral threatened to break away at any moment. Then the Kiowas suddenly made another attempt to enter the village. They rode recklessly to the edge of the camp, and tried to drive the Cheyennes before them. The latter, however, refused to yield. They realized that to give way meant disaster, and they fought with a stubborn ferocity that bewildered their foes. The old men and the boys fought as fiercely as the warriors. Somewhat sheltered by the lodges, they shot their arrows with deadly accuracy, and the Kiowas were again compelled to withdraw. This time they went far out on the plain.

The Cheyennes seized the opportunity to turn to their disabled comrades. They had paid a heavy price for victory. A third of the little force had been killed or wounded. There was little time to think about it. The old men barely had time to drag the wounded to a place of safety before they heard the Kiowas again charging upon the village.

The Cheyennes were amazed when their foes passed beyond bow range of the camp, and thundered away toward the south. It was some moments before they recovered from their bewilderment. They were at a loss to understand the strange maneuver. At first they were suspicious, and expected to hear the Kiowas riding toward them from another direction. Then, as time passed and they heard nothing further, they became convinced that the Kiowas had actually gone away. It seemed too good to be true. Despair gave way to joy. The Cheyennes began to laugh, and shout and sing the war songs.

"My brothers, we have done a big thing," Red Dog told them. "We have chased away that great war party of Kiowas. They are running across the plain. It is something to tell about. I——"

"Listen!" Painted Weasel cried, in alarm.

A moment afterward the startled Cheyennes heard the Kiowa war cry at the edge of the camp. Then, before they realized what had happened, they saw the warriors along the westerly side of the village driven back by a great company of Kiowas who swarmed into the camp on foot. At the same time the horsemen attacked the camp on the south. The wily Kiowas had completely outwitted their foes. The Cheyennes were bewildered and demoralized. They rushed wildly to reinforce their comrades along the threatened side of the village, and the Kiowa horsemen found little opposition. They quickly overcame the feeble guard at the corral, and stampeded the ponies. Then they swept into the camp. The Cheyennes were outnumbered four to one. The village was filled with Kiowas. Resistance meant death.

"Jump on the war ponies and save yourselves!" cried Red Dog.

The Cheyennes rushed toward the terror-stricken ponies in the center of the camp. The Kiowas followed after them. A furious hand-to-hand encounter ensued. Most of the old men were killed. A few escaped notice in the general confusion, and disappeared into the night. Old Ghost Bear ran far out on the plain, and hid in the sage.

The Cheyennes finally gained possession of the war ponies. They mounted and attempted to ride away. Less than half of the company escaped. Once out of the village, they rode frantically toward the north. The Kiowas made little effort to overtake them. A small company of warriors pursued them a short distance across the plain, but soon turned back to assist in rounding up the ponies, and share in the plunder.

When they found that they were not pursued, the little band of Cheyennes stopped to learn who had escaped. Many famous warriors were missing. Then they suddenly discovered that both Red Dog and Ghost Bear were absent.

"I saw Ghost Bear run out of the camp," declared Running Buffalo. "I believe he got away."

"Where is Red Dog?" Painted Weasel asked, anxiously.

"He was with us when we were fighting to get away," said Running Buffalo. "I saw him kill two Kiowas. Then the Kiowas rushed at us, and I did not see what became of him."

"Red Dog is dead—the Kiowas have killed him," cried the disheartened Cheyennes.

"Perhaps they have carried him away," said Painted Hawk.

They rallied at the thought. If Red Dog had been captured, they resolved to rescue him. They turned toward the camp. Then they stopped in dismay. The village was ablaze. The Kiowas had set fire to the lodges. The Cheyennes heard them yelling triumphantly, far away to the southward.

"My brothers, there are few of us left," declared Running Buffalo. "It is useless to try to do anything. Come, we will ride after our people, and ask the Ogalalas to help us. Then we will bring a great war party to fight the Kiowas."

They turned toward the north with heavy hearts, and rode silently away into the darkness.