lone to war. But, ever cautious, he travelled only
a short distance, and waited for night before going on. The rain had ceased
and the day was warm. He took a piece of dried meat and back fat from his
pouch and ate them, and, after drinking from the river, he climbed up on a
high rock wall and slept.

Now in his dream he fought with a strange people, and was wounded. He felt
blood trickling from his wounds, and when he awoke, he knew that he had
been warned to turn back. The signs also were bad. He saw an eagle rising
with a snake, which dropped from its claws and escaped. The setting sun,
too, was painted[1],--a sure warning to people that danger is near. But, in
spite of all these things, Mik-a'pi determined to go on. He thought of the
poor widows mourning and waiting for revenge. He thought of the glad
welcome of the people, if he should return with many scalps; and he thought
also of two young sisters, whom he wanted to marry. Surely, if he could
return and bring the proofs of brave deeds, their parents would be glad to
give them to him.

[Footnote 1: Sun dogs.]

II

It was nearly night. The sun had already disappeared behind the
sharp-pointed gray peaks. In the fading light the far-stretching prairie
was turning dark. In a valley, sparsely timbered with quaking aspens and
cotton-woods, stood a large camp. For a long distance up and down the river
rose the smoke of many lodges. Seated on a little hill overlooking the
valley, was a single person. With his robe drawn tightly around him, he sat
there motionless, looking down on the prairie and valley below.

Slowly and silently something was crawling through the grass toward
him. But he heard nothing. Still he gazed eastward, seeking to discover any
enemy who might be approaching. Still the dark object crawled slowly
onward. Now it was so close to him that it could almost touch him. The
person thought he heard a sound, and started to turn round. Too late! Too
late! A strong arm grasped him about the neck and covered his mouth. A long
jagged knife was thrust into his breast again and again, and he died
without a cry. Strange that in all that great camp no one should have seen
him killed!

Still extended on the ground, the dark figure removed the scalp. Slowly he
crawled back down the hill, and was lost in the gathering darkness. It was
Mik-a'pi, and he had another Snake scalp tied to his belt. His heart was
glad, yet he was not satisfied. Some nights had passe