At the very hour when One-eye was making the best use he could of the bright moonshine in front of his own camp, and knew nothing at all about this other, a tall man stood in the deep shadow of a pine-tree, miles and miles down stream from the resting-place of the war-party. The bridle of a horse hung over his right arm, but the animal stood as motionless as did his master, and both were intently watching a dark shape that rode nearer and could be seen more and more clearly, and that paused at last upon the river-bank within thirty yards. Just as it did so there came from under the shadow of the pine-tree a flash and a sharp report, and all the upper part of the dark shape on the bank fell suddenly to the earth, uttering a loud, fierce yell.
"Got him!" was shouted from under the pine-tree, and the man walked out, leading his horse, while instantly there could be heard the sound of galloping hoofs beyond him. In a minute or so more a stern, hoarse voice rang out.
"Got him, captain. 'Nother of them 'Paches. He won't carry back no news. Dead as a mackerel. Reckon they can't be far away now."
"We've taken pretty good care of their scouts, anyhow."
"Jest so many the less to fight when we come up with 'em. They'll outnumber us bad enough, I reckon, best we can make of it."
"Back to camp, Garry. Corporal Peters, take the same post, with two men. There may be more of them."
There was a little more talking done, but these seemed to be a somewhat quiet set of men. There were six of them besides the captain. They were all dressed in blue, and wore brass buttons and carried short-barrelled carbines and sabres. A good look at them would have recalled to the mind of Two Arrows all the arguments he had ever heard as to the wisdom of keeping the peace with the pale-faces. When they reached the camp, after "changing the guard" at Garry's river-side post, it was easy to see that their entire force consisted of several times as many men of the same sort. Every man was on his feet, wide awake and waiting for orders. One squad of five stood with each man's hand upon the bridle of a saddled horse, ready to mount, just as the first squad must have been, when it heard the warning report of Garry's carbine. A company of United States cavalry, veteran Indian fighters, following a "hot trail," keeps itself wonderfully ready for action. It is not easy to take such men by surprise. Now, however, at the word of command, all was instantly quiet again. The actual meaning of the alarm was rapidly told from man to man, and several remarked: