a time came back with
his three ponies, which he drove up to the white man's pen, saying in
Chis-chis-chash: "Here are my ponies. Give me the gun."

The white chief glanced at the boy as he sat there on a sturdy little
clip-maned war-pony--the one he had stolen from the Absaroke. He spoke,
and the interpreter continued: "The trader says he will take the pony you
are riding as one of the three."

"Tell him that I say I would not give this pony for all the goods I see.
Here are my three ponies; now let him give me the gun before he makes
himself a liar," and the boy warrior wore himself into a frenzy of
excitement as he yelled: "Tell him if he does not give me the gun he
will feel this war-pony in the dark, when he travels; tell him he will
not see this war-pony, but he will feel him when he counts his ponies at
daylight. He is a liar."

"The white chief says he will take the war-pony in place of three
ponies, and give you a gun, with much powder and many balls."

"Tell the Yellow-Eye he is a liar, with the lie hot on his lips," and
the Bat grew quiet to all outward appearance.

After speaking to the trader, the interpreter waved at the naked youth,
sitting there on his war-pony: "Go away--you are a boy, and you keep the
warriors from trading."

With a few motions of the arms, so quickly done that the interpreter had
not yet turned away his eye, the Bat had an arrow drawn to its head on
his leveled bow, and covering the white chief.

Indians sprang between; white men cocked their rifles; two camp-soldiers
rushed to the enraged Bat and led his pony quietly away, driving the
three ponies after him.

The trading progressed throughout the day, and at night the Indians all
came home, but no one saw the Bat in his father's lodge, and also Red
Arrow was missing. All the Indians had heard of how the white trader had
lied to the boy, and they knew the retribution must come. The trading
was over; the white men had packed up their goods, and had shaken hands
with the chiefs and head men, promising to come again when the grass was
green.

[Illustration: 06 The interpreter waved at the naked youth]

The Chis-chis-chash were busy during the ensuing days following the
buffalo, and their dogs grew fat on the leavings of the carcasses. The
white traders drew their weary line over the rolling hills, traveling
as rapidly as possible to get westward of the mountains before the snows
encompassed them. But by night and by day, on t