CHAPTER XXVIII. THE WHITE ANTELOPE INTERFERES.

So rapid and unexpected was this movement of Buffalo Bill, in drawing his revolver and firing it, that not one of the warriors who stood behind the renegade chief--some with arrows already fitted to their bows, and others with rifles covering the scout--had time to fire.

Yet, swift as he had been, one eye was quick enough to send an arrow upon its errand. The shaft struck the outstretched arm of the scout just as his finger pulled the trigger of his weapon, and the shock destroyed his aim.

Having made this daring move, however, and believing that death must follow the deed, Buffalo Bill dropped his left hand upon his second pistol, determined to press the fight, kill Bennett, and die as had the brave man at his feet--fighting to the last!

Maddened with rage and thirsting for the life of his foe, Boyd Bennett shouted to his warriors to rush upon the scout and take him alive that he might end his career by cruel torture. But suddenly a slender form darted before the red braves, and, with arrow set in readiness to let fly, the White Antelope thrust herself between the white man and the reds who would have seized him.

“Let the Sioux braves hold their hands. The White Antelope commands it!”

Like one man the reds halted, and even the renegade shrank back a step, gazing in fear and wonder on the apparition of the beautiful girl.

Buffalo Bill, too, gazed upon the chief’s daughter in amazement. He knew now that the arrow he drew from the wound in his right forearm had been driven home by the girl; yet now she stood between him and his foes.

Her attitude evidently astonished Bennett as much as it did Cody himself, for the renegade cried:

“Why has the White Antelope become the friend of the slayer of her people? The man she shelters is Pa-e-has-ka, the Long Hair.”

“The arrow of the White Antelope brings blood from the arm of Pa-e-has-ka. Is that the way in which a Sioux shows friendship?” asked the young girl scornfully.

“Then the White Antelope yields the paleface foe to the medicine chief of her tribe?”

“No!” was the decided response.

“What would you do?” demanded the renegade angrily.

“I will deliver Pa-e-has-ka to the great chief, my father, Oak Heart.”

“The White Antelope is no warrior,” sneered the renegade. “Are there not braves enough loyal to Oak Heart to carry out his will upon this paleface?”

“The White Antelope may be no warrior,” said the girl; “but she has just saved the life of the Death Killer.”

At this Buffalo Bill laughed aloud, for the shot was a good one, and his seeming indifference to his peril caused the daughter of the chief to turn her eyes upon him. She scanned the scout from head to foot. What was in her thoughts he could not guess; but, suddenly, deciding upon a course of action, she stepped boldly to the side of Buffalo Bill, and touched with tender fingers the wounded arm which he had bared.

“If the Long Hair has ointment for the wound, it would be better to bind it,” she said to him.

Buffalo Bill opened his pouch, and the girl found the salve and bandages he always carried. Meanwhile, the scout sucked the wound to remove any foreign matter that might have been driven into it by the arrowhead. Then the Indian maiden bound up the hurt while the renegade looked on sullenly.

“Why is the Long Hair here--so near the village of the Sioux?” she asked Buffalo Bill, when this act of kindness was performed.

“I chanced upon the place. I saw the dead. Here lies my friend--the young man whom I loved as a son,” said the scout, pointing to the body of Danforth. “He and his men have been all slain by the Sioux.”

“They were enemies,” said the girl simply.

“But they had not come out to disturb the red men.”

“Why were they here?”

“To find and take prisoner that villain yonder!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill, scowling at Boyd Bennett in his war-paint and feathers. “That man who is neither white nor red, but a squaw-man! He had committed crimes against the white man’s law and should be punished by that law.”

“My father heard that the palefaces were coming to seize him.”

“Another lie of that renegade!” exclaimed the scout. “And while I mourned over the body of this young man, the villain came upon me, returning, as he declares, to tear the scalp from the head of the white chief whom he was not brave enough himself to kill!”

The girl seemed to understand. She glanced from the body of Danforth to the rage-inflamed face of Boyd Bennett.

“Is it from this dead white chief’s head the Killer would take the scalp?” she asked haughtily.

“Aye; and I _will_ have it!” cried Bennett.

“Did the young paleface fall by thy hand, Death Killer?” demanded the maiden, with all the dignity of a judge.

“It matters not. Forget not, oh, White Antelope, that I am the medicine chief of the Sioux----”

“And see that the Death Killer forget not that _I_ am the daughter of Oak Heart!” she interrupted.

“I acknowledge that fact,” sneered Boyd Bennett. “But the White Antelope has no control over the acts of the Death Killer.”

“Did the paleface fall to your prowess?” she demanded again, looking the renegade sternly in the eye.

An Indian stepped forward. He carried a blood-stained war-club in one hand. In a deep guttural he said:

“The white chief’s scalp should be Red Knife’s; he brought him low at last with a blow of his club. But the great chief, Oak Heart, forbade that we take the scalp of so brave a warrior.”

“Then why does the Death Killer wish to do that which is forbidden by my father?” cried the girl quickly.

“Is it the White Antelope’s place to question the medicine chief of her tribe?” demanded the painted white man, with haughty demeanor. “The scalp of the dead bluecoat is my prize!”

Buffalo Bill saw indecision in the Indian maiden’s face. He knew how superstitious the redskins were regarding the mysterious powers claimed by all medicine chiefs. In some way--by some manner of fake magic--Boyd Bennett had roused the superstitious reverence of the Sioux, and Buffalo Bill did not know how greatly the chief’s daughter might be tainted by this feeling of reverence for the villainous renegade.

“Let not this crime be done, White Antelope,” he said in her ear. “Remember what Pa-e-has-ka told you in the cañon, when he had you in his power. He knows much. He was once your mother’s trusted friend. And he warns you now--as you hope for peace of soul and body--not to allow the dead young man to be so treated by your people.”

The girl turned upon him suddenly, with wide-open eyes.

“What does Long Hair mean? What is this dead paleface to her?”

“That Long Hair may not tell thee, oh, White Antelope. Trust him----”

“Trust a paleface!”

“Trust one who has given you back to your father when he might have taken your life, or held you prisoner.”

“Aye, Long Hair, thou didst that. It is true.”

“And believe me,” the scout said, more earnestly still, in English, not wishing the other Indians to understand; “this dead paleface whom even the great chief Oak Heart admired for his bravery, is more to the White Antelope than she knows. The time will come when I can explain all to you, girl--but not now!”

“What’s that?” demanded Boyd Bennett, stepping forward. “What’s this foolishness you are telling the girl?”

But the White Antelope haughtily waved him back.

“Let the Death Killer stand away. The chief’s daughter can care for herself. And let not one of these dead palefaces be further disturbed. It is my will!”

The waiting Indians grunted agreement. They were willing enough to obey the beautiful princess. The White Antelope turned again to Buffalo Bill:

“Where are the paleface brothers of Pa-e-has-ka?”

Buffalo Bill pointed in the direction from which he had come.

“Far away.”

“The White Antelope is his foe, and the foe of his people; but she wishes not to see the wolves and the vultures tear the bodies of brave men for food. The Sioux have come to remove their dead. Let Pa-e-has-ka go bring his brother warriors to remove the paleface slain.”

At that Boyd Bennett uttered an oath and sprang forward.

“Not that, girl! You’re crazy!”

“We’ll see who wears the breeches in this family, Boyd Bennett!” laughed the scout.

“You shall not leave this spot alive, Bill Cody!”

“Oh, shucks! Don’t speak so harshly,” gibed the scout.

The girl raised her hand. Without looking at the renegade, she said to Buffalo Bill:

“But Pa-e-has-ka must make the White Antelope a promise.”

“All right. What is it?”

“The White Antelope came from the great chief Oak Heart, who told her to seek the paleface warriors and tell them where to find their dead. He bids them to come here and remove their slain in peace, and not to follow on the track of his people. Will Pa-e-has-ka tell the big chief the words of Oak Heart?”

“I will.”

“Then Pa-e-has-ka must promise to return and yield himself to the Sioux.”

She looked Buffalo Bill straight in the eye as she stated her condition, and he saw that she meant exactly what she said; but he asked:

“Does the White Antelope mean that I am to give myself up to the red warriors after I have guided the bluecoats here?”

“She has spoken.”

“And this is the promise she wishes Pa-e-has-ka to make?”

The Indian girl nodded.

“Why should Pa-e-has-ka return?”

“He is the captive of the medicine chief, Death Killer, now; but White Antelope lets him go free that the paleface braves lie not unburied, and that the other white warriors take heed not to follow upon the trail of the Sioux. Will Pa-e-has-ka promise?”

Buffalo Bill was silent for a moment. If he refused he knew that her protection would cease. If he agreed to her condition he must keep his word, be the end what it might. And that end looked to the scout much like an ironwood stake, a hot fire, and a bunch of naked red devils dancing a two-step about him while he slowly crisped to a cinder!

There was a loophole. He made a mental reservation that, after bearing the tidings of the massacre to the fort, and delivering Oak Heart’s warning, he would return to the Sioux encampment--but with a force behind him that would surprise the redskins!

“I agree,” he said finally.

“Trust not the fox-tongue of the Long Hair!” cried Boyd Bennett violently. “He will not keep his pledge.”

“The paleface is the foe of my people, but his tongue is straight,” declared the Indian maiden, with confidence.

Buffalo Bill began secretly to weaken on that “mental reservation.”

“But he will come with a force at his back and burn the Indian village,” cried the renegade.

Buffalo Bill had to give the fellow credit for having divined his purpose; but the girl turned scornfully from the squaw-man.

“Pa-e-has-ka is not two-faced. He is not a turncoat,” she said sneeringly. “The White Antelope will believe that the Long Hair will return alone.”

Buffalo Bill at that completely abandoned the “mental reservation” clause.

“Bet your life he will!” he exclaimed. “I’ll come back as I promise, girl.”

“Then let Pa-e-has-ka go.”

But as she spoke the command, Boyd Bennett once more sprang forward. He covered the scout with his rifle and cried:

“I am the medicine chief of the Sioux, and I say the paleface dog shall not go!”

Then in English he declared:

“Your hour has come, Buffalo Bill. You die here and now!”