rbaric to the last degree and
Will shuddered at the fate which he was sure awaited him.

Beyond the Indians he saw trees, but they were not cottonwoods. Instead
he noted oak and pine and aspen and he knew he was not lying where he
had fallen, or in any region very near it. Straining his eyes he saw a
dim line of foothills and forest. He must have been brought there on a
pony and dreadful thoughts about his comrades assailed him. Since the
Sioux had come away with him as a prisoner they might have fallen in a
general massacre. In truth, that was the most likely theory, by far,
and he shuddered violently again and again.

Those three had been true and loyal friends of his, the finest of
comrades, hearts of steel, and yet as gentle and kindly as women.
Hardships and dangers in common had bound the four together, and the
difference in years did not matter. It seemed that he had known them and
been associated with them always. He could hear now the joyous whistling
of the Little Giant, the terse, intelligent talk of Boyd, and the firm
Biblical allusions of the beaver hunter. They could not be dead! It
could not be so! And yet in his heart he believed that it _was_ so.

He turned painfully on his side, groaned, shut his eyes, and opened them
again to see a tall warrior standing over him, gazing down at him with a
cynical look. He was instantly ashamed that he had groaned and said in
apology:

"It was pain of the spirit and not of the body that caused me to make
lament."

"It must be so," replied the warrior in English, "because you have come
back to the world much quicker than we believed possible. The vital
forces in you are strong."

He spoke like an educated Indian, but his face, his manner and his whole
appearance were those of the typical wild man.

"I see that I'm at least alive," said Will with a faint touch of humor,
"though I can scarcely describe my condition as cheerful. Who are you?"

"I am Heraka, a Sioux chief. Heraka in your language means the Elk, and
I am proud of the name."

Will looked again at him, and much more closely now, because, despite
his condition, he was impressed by the manner and appearance. Heraka was
a man of middle years, of uncommon height and of a broad, full
countenance, the width between the eyes being great. It was a
countenance at once dignified, serene and penetrating. He wore
brilliantly embroidered moccasins, leggings and waist band, and a long
green blanket, harmonizing w