A CLOSE CALL.

The discovery of the file of Indian horsemen by Kit Carey and his two Cheyenne scouts, at once put an end to the intention of the officer of boldly entering the camps of the hostiles.

To dismount and grasp the noses of their horses, to prevent their neighing, and stand as motionless as the rocks about them, was the work of a second, and the lieutenant and his two Cheyenne soldiers in the gloom of the night, though in full sight of the passing horsemen appeared like the rocks about them.

There was no retreat behind them, for the way was impassable, and to go to the right or left, up or down the ridge, meant discovery.

They had been fairly caught, and in the worst position for them that could be found anywhere.

If the Indian horsemen took them in at a glance, as rocks, in the darkness, and so passed on, all was well; but if discovered then it must be a fight to the death.

Holding a position for defense at least, and their number not known to the officer and his redskin soldiers, might, by a hot fire, put the Sioux to flight, thus giving them an opportunity to get away themselves.

But if not, then they must remain and fight it out right there.

These thoughts passed rapidly through the mind of Kit Carey as he stood there, grasping the nose of his horse with his left hand, and holding his repeating rifle, a splendid Evans repeating gun, shooting thirty-five times.

The Cheyennes were armed with Winchesters, and stood ready, as did their commander.

Then, too, all three had their revolvers, and the Sioux would think a whole troop was there should they discover them, and cause them to open fire.

In spite of the peril of his situation, Lieutenant Carey calmly counted his foes.

He saw by the feather bonnet, indistinctly seen, that a chief rode in advance.

Then came the braves in single file until thirty had passed.

Kit Carey gave a sigh of relief as they went by without discovering them, and said to the Cheyennes:

"A chief and thirty braves. They cannot be very dangerous, or intending an attack. Some scouting party only, I think."

The Cheyennes thought the same, and then came a consultation as to which way the Sioux were going, and was it best to follow them, or go on into the Bad Lands, as the lieutenant had intended.

Kit Carey wished to get the ideas of the scouts, for he knew that they were well worthy of consideration, and the result was that he decided to send one of the Indian soldiers upon the trail of the party of Sioux, and the other ahead by a flank movement, to the command of the general toward whom they were making their way.

As for himself, he would go on his rounds to his sentinel camps, for that only a band of thirty Sioux were leaving the Bad Lands did not disturb him.

Had there been several hundred warriors moving toward the commands, or the settlements, the officer would have at once suspected an ambush, an attack, or a raid.

So the Cheyennes went on the trail, one to follow the Sioux, the other to head them off, and as soon as their situation was learned to ride with full speed for the nearest military force, and report to the commander the discovery, as one of Kit Carey's couriers.

The lieutenant had by no means given up his intention of entering the Bad Lands himself.

But it must be done by night, and in his disguise as a Sioux chief.

He would not dare be seen by day in the Bad Lands, no matter how thorough his disguise might be, for well he knew that some keen eyes would recognize him among the Indians.

So he would go to the camps of his Cheyennes, let all know of the battle of Wounded Knee Creek, and dispatch his couriers to put each command on the alert, against other Indians making for the Bad Lands, or a force of warriors riding out to make a sudden dash.

So, through the night, he held on his way, circling around the hostiles' retreat, and visiting one after the other of his posts.

The sun was well up when he reached the last position, the camp nearest to the Bernard ranch.

He had there now fourteen men, and the very pick of his Cheyenne scouts.

They were encamped in a ravine, which a whole tribe on the march might pass near and never suspect the existence of.

It was a basin among the rocks, with a ravine for an exit and entrance.

Water and grass were there, and from the rocks above a commanding view could be obtained of the country in the direction of the hostiles' camp, and here were kept two sentinels, hidden from view themselves, yet able to see any one approaching from the Bad Lands.

The Indian sentinels saw the approach of their commander, and signaled it to their comrades in the basin.

At last he arrived, utterly worn out, and determined that as soon as he had had some breakfast he would throw himself upon his blankets to get what rest he could.

His scouts had seen nothing of the hostiles, and no party of Sioux making for the Bad Lands had passed within sight.

His courier had returned from the Bernard ranch, and brought him a note, which read as follows:

"Stubborn fool!" ejaculated the officer, while the courier drew from some secret receptacle about his clothing another note and handed it to his commander.