as their wrath that knives
were already reflecting the flames, and fingers were nervously twitching
about the locks of their guns. And all the time Thunder-maker was
dancing about in a frenzy of passion. He was not brave enough to strike
a blow, but he hoped to shift the responsibility upon the shoulders of
his brethren.

What would have been the termination of the scene it is not difficult to
decide, had not the old figure of Swift Arrow pushed a way through the
seething multitude and taken a place at Arnold's side, while he faced
his people with burning indignation.

"What is this, brothers?" he exclaimed. "Is this how the Dacotahs treat
the stranger in their tents?"

"They are witches, not men!" came from many throats, and Thunder-maker
added--

"They call me from teepee--call me without words, and fill Thunder-maker
with hot fire!"

"Bah!" ejaculated Swift Arrow with utter contempt, as he turned to the
last speaker. "Is not Thunder-maker great medicine himself? Has he no
weapon to protect himself from magic?"

But the Medicine Man had his reply ready.

"Thunder-maker sleep. When Thunder-maker sleep he have no power against
magic." Then he turned to the surrounding Indians with a wild appeal.
"Shall it be, brothers, that the great medicine of the Dacotahs die
before arrows of the evil spirits?"

"Kawin![3] Kawin!" was the general reply, and again the knives glistened
as they were raised in many hands.

Thunder-maker shrieked with triumph.

"Then save our tribe from the magic of the evil ones!" he cried as he
flung his arms upwards and turned to the captives with a fiendish grin
of exultation.

The Indians were now worked up to a condition of irresponsible madness.
Another such impulse from the Medicine Man, and the thirsty knives would
be quenched.

"Stay!" commanded Arnold suddenly.

So unexpected was the word from that quarter that for the time curiosity
superseded frenzy, and all paused to hear what the white man might have
to say. And Arnold, seeing the advantage, went on with a calmness that
seemed to act like a spell upon the excited minds. "Stay! My white
brother and I are not afraid to die, if it be Manito's will that we find
the Happy Hunting-ground this night, and if the Dacotahs have so
forgotten the brave name of their tribe that they would slay the
stranger who came to their tents in trouble. But first tell me: is it
the way of the redmen to kill a prisoner without the wish of their
ch