bout through the camp,
and then presently he saw many people rush up on the hill where he
had left the dead enemy. He could not hear their angry cries, nor
their mournful wailings, but he knew how badly they felt, and he
sung a song, for he was happy.

Once more the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, and as
darkness grew Mika'pi came down from where he had been hiding and
carefully approached the camp. Now was a time of danger. Now
watchers might be hidden anywhere, looking for the approach of
enemies, ready to raise a cry to warn the camp. Each bush or clump
of rye grass or willow thicket might hide an enemy. Very slowly,
looking and listening, Mika'pi crept around the outskirts of the
camp. He made no noise, he did not show himself. Presently he heard
some one clear his throat and then a cough, and a little bush moved.
Here was a watcher. Could he kill him and get away? He sat and
waited to see what would happen, for he knew where his enemy was,
but the enemy knew nothing of him. The great moon rose over the
eastern prairie and climbed high and began to travel across the sky.
Seven Persons swung around and pointed downward. It was about the
middle of the night. At length the person in the bush grew tired of
watching; he thought no enemy could be near and he rose and
stretched out his arms and yawned, but even as he stood an arrow
pierced him through, beneath the arms. He gave a loud cry and tried
to run, but another arrow struck him, and he fell.

And now from out the camp rushed the warriors toward the sound, but
even as they came Mika'pi had taken the scalp from his enemy and
started to run away into the darkness. The moon was bright, and
close behind him were the Snakes. He heard arrows flying by him, and
presently one passed through his arm. He pulled it out and threw it
from him. Another struck his leg, and he fell, and a great shout
arose from the Snakes. Now their enemy was down and revenge for the
two lives lately taken was certain.

But Mika'pi's helpers were not far off. It was at the very verge
of a high cut wall overhanging the river that Mika'pi fell, and
even as the Snakes shouted he rolled over the brink into the dark
rushing water below. The Snakes ran along the edge of the river,
looking into the water, with bent bows watching for the enemy's head
or body to appear, but they saw nothing. Carefully they looked
along the shores and sandbars; they did not find him.

Mika'pi had sunk deep in