"No! Kill them!"
"See where they are going, first."
"Wait till they are in the village."
Nobody knew exactly what to do. The Americans were marching down, their horses together, their ranks formed, their guns ready; and they looked small beside the four hundred and more warriors of the Pawnees. It was a brave act.
"They are not striking the village. They are going around," Rich Man shouted. "We shall have to fight them in the open. That is bad."
The young warriors like Skidi ran to and fro, handling their bows and lances and guns. They waited for orders from White Wolf; but White Wolf only stood at the door of his lodge, with his arms folded, and said nothing as he watched the American column.
Mungo-Meri Pike was smart. He acted like a war chief. He was marching around, far enough out so that if he were attacked the Pawnees could not hide behind their mud houses. Now to charge on those well-armed Americans, in the open, would cost many lives; and no Pawnee wished to be the first to fall.
The Americans had come opposite, and no gun had yet been fired, when on a sudden Chief Pike left
