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To do Clarence justice, they were not due to any elation on his part, but had all been executed by the army in the wild hope that they might thus stir up the foe to a fresh demonstration, when they themselves might recover their lost spurs.

These placards, as Clarence found on reaching the stockade, had been scrawled over with a kind of red and yellow paint so as to be quite illegible.

‘Ochre,’ said Guy; ‘but that’s not the best of it, for we found this pinned with an arrow to one of the posts.’ And he produced a thin strip of white bark, on which were writing and drawings in crimson. ‘They must have done it with their own blood,’ commented Jack, with great gusto; ‘but read it–do read it.’

Clarence did not need a second invitation to read the document, which was as follows:–

‘WAH NA SA PASH BOO (YELLOW VULTURE),

Chief of Black Bogallala Tribe, to the Great White Chief, Tin Lin, DEFIANCE.

‘The wigwam of Yellow Vulture wants but one ornament–the scalp of the white chief. Yellow Vulture has seen the taunts calling the red warriors “women with the hearts of deer.” He will show the Paleface that the anger of the dusky ones is a big heap-lot terrible. When the sun has set behind the hills, and the stars light their watch-fires, then will Yellow Vulture and his braves be at hand. The scalp of the Paleface shall adorn the tepee of the Red Man.

‘WAH-WAH!’

In order that there should be no possible mistake about the intention, the message was supplemented by a rude representation of the process of scalping, evidently the work of a practised hand.

‘Didn’t I tell you we had something jolly to show you!’ exclaimed Jack.

But joy, or some equally powerful emotion, rendered the General incapable of speaking for several moments.

ACT THE THIRD

WHERE IS THE GENERAL?

It was some little time before Clarence Tinling gave any opinion upon this bloodthirsty document. He turned exceedingly red, and examined it suspiciously on both sides. It seemed as if he did not altogether welcome this second opportunity for distinguishing himself. When he spoke it was with a sort of angry anxiety.

‘You think yourselves very clever, I dare say,’ he said; ‘but you needn’t fancy you’ll take me in! Come, you had better say so at once–you did this yourselves? It is not half bad–I will say that for it.’

‘That we didn’t,’ cried Guy. ‘Why, just look at it, Tinling. Any one could see that it’s an Indian’s doing. No, it’s all right; they really are coming.’

‘It’s all skittles, I tell you,’ said Clarence, still more angrily, though he was paler again now. ‘What should Indians come here for?’

‘Well, he says why, there,’ said Jack, ‘and they came the other evening.’

Clarence’s colour rose again. ‘That’s different,’ he said; ‘I mean, it’s not the same tribe.’

‘No, these are Black Bogallalas,’ said Jack. ‘What were the first ones, Tinling?’

‘I didn’t ask them,’ said the General shortly.

‘How many braves should you think Wah Na What’s-his-name will bring?’ asked Guy. ‘As many as came the other evening? How many did come the first time?’

‘Do you think I had nothing better to do than count?’ he retorted. ‘Is there anything else you would like to know?’

‘Well, we’ll hang out the lantern to-night, and watch how many come inside its rays,’ said Jack, with a briskness which displeased his chief.

‘You wouldn’t be quite so jolly cheerful over it if you knew what it was like!’ he grumbled.

‘Why not?’ said Guy. ‘You beat the others easily enough by yourself, and we shall be three this time.’

‘Oh, it’s all very fine to talk,’ retorted the General; ‘but we shall see what your mother and uncle say about it. They–they may think we ought not to take any notice of it.’

Jack’s eyes opened wide at this. ‘Not take any notice of an attack by Black Bogallalas! I don’t see how we can very well help noticing it!’