ases the
chief to test me. He would see whether I can bear such news."

"If the belief helps you then Heraka will not try again to make you see
the truth. What is your name?"

"Clarke, William Clarke."

"Why have you come to the land of the Dakotas?"

"Not to take it. Not to kill the buffalo. Not to drive away any of your
people."

"But you are captured upon it. The great chief, Mahpeyalute, warned the
American captain and the soldiers that they must not let the white
people come any farther."

"That is true. I was there, and I heard Red Cloud give the warning."

"And yet you came against the threat of Mahpeyalute."

"Mine was an errand of a nature almost sacred. I tell you again there
was no harm in it to your country and your people."

"Many times have the white people told to the Dakotas things that were
lies."

"It is true, but the sins of others are not mine."

Will spoke with all his heart in his words. Despite the terrible
disaster that had befallen, even if the chief's words were true, and all
his friends were dead, he wished, nevertheless, to live. He was young,
strong, of great vitality, and nothing could crush the love of life in
him.

"What do you intend to do with me?" he asked.

Heraka smiled, but the smile contained nothing of gentleness or mercy,
rather it was amusement at the anxiety of one who was wholly in his
power.

"Your fate shall not be known to you until it comes," he said.

Will felt a chill running down his spine. It was the primal instinct to
torture and slay the enemy and the Sioux lived up to it. It was keen
torture already to hear that his fate would surely come, but not to know
how or where or when was worse. But it appeared that it was not to come
at once, and with that thought he felt the thrill of hope. His was
unquenchable youth and the vital spark in him flamed up.

"Would you mind untying my ankles?" he said. "You can save your torture
for later on."

Heraka signed to a warrior, who cut the thongs and Will, sitting up,
rubbed them carefully until the blood flowed back in its natural
channels. Meanwhile he observed the band and counted sixteen warriors,
all but Heraka seeming to be the wildest of wild Indians, most of them
entirely naked save for moccasins and the breech cloth. They carried
muzzle-loading rifles, bows and arrows hung from the bushes and lances
leaned against the trees. Beyond the bushes he caught glimpses of their
ponies grazing, and these glim