Читать книгу Buffalo Bill, the Border King; Or, Redskin and Cowboy онлайн

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For if his presence was discovered, although his dress and appearance might carry him through, still there was a grave danger that they would not. There might be some password, for the redskins were shrewd, or he might run against some chief going the rounds of his men to see that all were properly placed.

Suddenly a form seemed to rise out of the ground before the advancing scout. It stood a moment directly between him and the lighter sky-line. Then it passed on—silently as the wind over the grass.

He heard a muffled grunt—a guttural Indian word—dropped by some invisible redskin in the direction the figure had disappeared. Then that, or another, sentinel returned and passed slowly across the line of Texas Jack’s vision. He was quite near the lines of sentinels, and he determined to lie there and, if possible, time their coming and going before trying himself to get through.

Once more the figure crossed the line of the scout’s vision. Texas Jack lay, scarcely moving in the grass, and with fingers on wrist counted his pulse while the Indian was in sight. In this way he learned something of the time it took for the sentinel to pace from end to end of his beat. He lay for some time and timed him back and forth to make sure that there was some regularity in the redskin’s actions.