n
spite of all these things Mika'pi determined to go on. He thought
of the poor widows mourning; he thought of welcome of the people if
he should return with scalps; he thought also of two young sisters
whom he wished to marry. If he could return with proof of brave
deeds, they would think well of him.

Mika'pi travelled onward.

* * * * *

The sun had already disappeared behind the sharp pointed dark peaks
of the mountains. It was nearly night. As the light grew dim, the
far stretching prairie began to be hidden. By a stream in a valley
where grew large and small trees were the lodges of a great camp.
For a long distance up and down the river rose the smokes of many
fires.

On a hill overlooking the valley sat a person alone. His robe was
drawn close about him, and he sat there without moving, looking down
on the valley and out on the prairie above it. Perhaps he was
watching for enemies; perhaps he was praying.

Creeping through the grass behind this person, something was slowly
drawing near to him. There was no noise, the watcher heard nothing;
still he sat there, looking out over the prairie, and turning his
head neither to the right nor the left. This thing behind him kept
creeping closer, and presently it was so near it could touch the
man. Perhaps then there was some little rustle of the grass, and the
watcher turned his head. It was too late. A strong arm around his
neck bent his head back, a hand covered his mouth, a long stone
knife was thrust into his breast, and he died in silence. The fading
light had kept people in the camp from seeing what had happened.

The man who had used the knife scalped his enemy, and slowly,
hidden by the grass, crept down the hill that he had just ascended,
and when he reached the cover of a low place Mika'pi rose to his
feet and crept away. He had another Snake scalp tied to his belt.
His heart was glad, but he was not satisfied.

Several nights had passed since the signs warned him to turn back,
but notwithstanding the warnings, he had succeeded. Perhaps his
success had made him too confident. He longed for more of it. "One
more scalp I shall take," he said, "and then I will return to the
people."

He climbed far up the mountainside and hid among the pines and
slept, but when day came he awoke and crept out to a point where he
could see the camp. He saw the smoke rising as the women kindled
their morning fires; he saw the people going a