Father had warned him never to chase an Indian into cover, where others would probably be waiting for him.

So he stayed where he was, pretty well hidden in the rocks, and let the bullets he himself had "run" in father's bullet-mold follow the enemy to the fringe of bushes.

His last shot knocked the Indian off his horse--or so it looked to Buddy.

He waited for a long time, watching the brush and thinking what a fool that Indian was to imagine Buddy would follow him down there.

After a while he saw the Indian's horse climbing the slope across the creek.