The three scouts only stayed for a day or two with the Navahos after the rescue of Red Cloud. They were anxious to hurry back to Kansas and find out how the campaign against the three rebel tribes was proceeding.  
A toilsome but unadventurous journey brought them back at last to Fort Larned, where they were warmly welcomed by the commandant. He heard with great pleasure the results of Cody’s mission—that there was no danger of the Navahos giving trouble, but that, on the contrary, they would do all in their power to restrain the other tribes in the Southwest from digging up the hatchet.
 
“Have you done much fighting with the confederated tribes while we have been away?” asked Buffalo Bill.
 
“No,” replied the officer. “They have kept carefully out of our way. They retreated to the mountains, where our troops could not follow them. We have had a few small skirmishes, but they are still unconquered. They have been gathering strength lately, according to the reports brought in by my scouts, and I am expecting them soon to descend down into the plains again and assume the offensive.”
 
“Will you be ready to meet them?” asked Buffalo Bill.
 
“Yes, with the help of the troops at Fort Hays. The commandant there and I have arranged to move together against the redskins as soon as they give us a chance. Between us, we ought to be able to account for any number of them.”
 
The commandant’s expectations were justified that very night.
 
A scout came riding in, with his horse all used up and himself on the point of exhaustion. He staggered into the commandant’s headquarters, where Buffalo Bill was dining as a guest, and sank limply into a chair.
 
Buffalo Bill saw at a glance that the man had been through a very rough experience. So it proved when, revived by a glass of wine, he told his story.
 
He had been scouting away up in the hills, and had witnessed the descent down into the plains of several large war parties of the three allied tribes. He had been detected by one party, and had been forced to flee for his life. After a long and hard chase, he managed to escape from his pursuers shortly before he came in sight of the fort.
 
The man was closely questioned as to the course the Indians had taken, and he said the war parties were converging on a point by the bank of a river about midway between the two forts where they were going to establish their military camp.
 
“This news must be carried to Fort Hays at once,” said Cody.
 
The commandant nodded.
 
“And I will take it as soon as my horse is saddled,” added the king of scouts.
 
The officer thanked him and gave him a letter to the commandant at Fort Hays, making arrangements for them to meet at a rendezvous and attack the Indians.
 
It was a hard ride that Cody had that night, but an hour after dawn he drew rein at Fort Hays and delivered his message. This done, he flung himself down on a sofa for a few hours’ sleep.
 
 
The border king awoke about six o’clock, and, going out of the commandant’s house into the courtyard of the fort, found that two hundred troopers were already saddling their horses to ride to make the junction with the Fort Larned contingent.
 
A well-equipped expedition was being got ready. Pack mules carrying provisions, water, ammunition, and tents were awaiting to accompany the soldiers. Their commander evidently expected a long and hard campaign.
 
As the men were having their breakfast, Wild Bill and Nick Wharton appeared on the scene; and the three scouts rode out with the column when it left the fort.
 
The march was kept up nearly all day, until late in the afternoon the rendezvous was reached.
 
Strong parties of Indians had been observed hovering around the flanks of the column during the morning; but they had not dared to attack, and the officer in command would not allow his men to break ranks in order to chase them.
 
Arrived at the rendezvous, he gave orders to pitch the camp and await the arrival of the Fort Larned forces. As yet, they were nowhere to be seen.
 
The mules were unloaded, and soon rows of white tents were erected on the green prairie.
 
Before any steps could be taken to fortify the encampment, the Indian bands which had been observed during the morning appeared again.
 
They hovered round the camp at some distance, keeping well out of rifle shot, but presently they were strongly reënforced by other war parties, which had evidently been sent for.
 
Toward the close of the afternoon the camp was ringed round by nearly two thousand redskins, who outnumbered the white soldiers by almost ten to one.
 
 
It looked as if Uncle Sam’s troopers would be doomed immediately an attack was made. However bravely they might fight, they must succumb at last to overwhelming numbers.
 
Buffalo Bill figured out the situation, and when the Indians were gathering their forces together for an advance he decided it was high time to try the effect of a bluff.
 
He remembered that the Indians had used the white flag at Fort Larned, and he decided that he would try it himself.
 
At the worst, he hoped to be able to hold them by talk for some time, and thus increase the chance of the troops from Fort Larned arriving before the fight was over.
 
He drew out his handkerchief, tied it to the barrel of his rifle, and rode toward the Indians, waving his improvised flag of truce.
 
His action evidently surprised the Indians, but in a few moments three or four of them, who seemed to be chiefs, rode out to meet him.
 
The commander of the soldiers and two or three of his officers spurred their horses after the border king, and were by his side before he met the Indians.
 
“What in thunder are you up to, Cody?” the commander asked.
 
“I am going to try to work a bluff on them,” the border king replied. “We would stand very little show if it came to a fight. I want to hold them off until the Fort Larned people show up, or else blu............