Читать книгу Buffalo Bill's Weird Warning; Or, Dauntless Dell's Rival онлайн

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“Where will you go, Wah-coo-tah, if you get away from the Ponca?”

“Me go where me be safe,” she said.

“How much time do you want to get away?”

The girl turned on her pony’s back and pointed to the top of a distant hill.

“So far,” she answered.

“All right. We’ll hang onto the Ponca until you get there.”

Before the scout could stop her, Wah-coo-tah caught his hand and pressed it to her lips. Then she turned her pony and galloped off.

Big Thunder sat silently on his horse for a space, his eyes glittering fiendishly. Suddenly he jerked his rifle to his shoulder. Nomad, watching him like a cat, struck up the barrel, and the bullet plunged skyward.

Quick as a catamount the Ponca dropped the weapon and hurled himself from his horse’s back—not at Nomad, but at Buffalo Bill. He had a drawn knife in his hand, and, as he landed on the scout’s horse, he made a venomous, whole-arm stab with it.

But if the Ponca was quick, the scout was a shade quicker. Twisting about in his saddle, Buffalo Bill clutched the Ponca’s knife-wrist with his right hand, and, with his left, took a firm grip of the Ponca’s throat.