CHAPTER XIV 

 SATANTA'S STORY 



day, mounted on Black Prince, Tom 

 started for Fort Larned. He had stowed 

 the skull of the supposed deceased wolf hunter in 

 a gunny sack tied to his saddle, but the buffalo 

 shoulder-blade he wrapped carefully in the fur of 

 a fox skin, to make sure that no chafing should 

 further obliterate -the already obscure record. 



These relics he intended to submit to the best 

 sign readers to be found about the fort, to ascer- 

 tain if any light could be thrown on the supposed 

 tragedy. 



As I was writing a letter to send in by Tom, 

 Jack remarked: "We ought to have a name for 

 our camp, a place to date letters from, something 

 more than just 'Camp on Walnut Creek/* 



"That Couldn't be a bad idea," I replied, "but 

 what shall we call it? The only things we see 

 here are buffaloes, coyotes, and antelopes, with a 

 few prairie-dogs and rattlesnakes. How would it 

 do to call our place 'Camp Antelope'?" 



"I think it would be more to the point," said 

 Jack, "to call it 'Camp Coyote.'" 



"Well," said Tom, "why not compromise and 

 call it 'Camp Coyotelope ' ? " 



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