pses were sufficient to show him that they
had many extra animals for the packs. When he saw them better, then he
would know whether his friends were really dead, because if they were
their packs and the animals would be there, too. But the chief, Heraka,
broke in upon the thought--he seemed able to read Will's mind.

"This is but part of the force that besieged you," he said. "There were
three bands joined. The others with the spoil have gone west, leaving as
our share the prisoner. A living captive is worth more than two scalps."

Will tried to remember all he had ever heard or read about the necessity
of stoicism when in the hands of savage races and by a supreme effort of
the will he was able to put a little of it into practice. Pretending to
indifference, he asked if he might have something to eat, and received
roasted meat of the buffalo. He had a good appetite, despite his
weakness and headache, and when he had eaten in abundance and had drunk
a gourd of water they gave him he felt better.

"I thank you for binding up my wounded head," he said to Heraka. "I
don't know your motive in doing so, but I thank you just the same."

The Dakota chief smiled grimly.

"We do not wish you to die yet," he said, speaking his English in the
precise, measured manner of one to whom it is a foreign language.
"Inmutanka, the Panther, bound it up, and he is one of the best healers
we have."

"Then I thank also Inmutanka, or the Panther, whichever he prefers to be
called. I can't see the top of my head, but I know he made a good job of
it."

Inmutanka proved to be an elderly but robust Sioux warrior, and however
he may have been when torture was going forward he wore just then a
bland smile, although not much else. With wonderfully light and skilful
hands he took off Will's bandage and replaced it with another. Will
never knew what it was made of, but it seemed to be lined with leaves
steeped in the juices of herbs.

The Indians had some simple remedies of great power, and he felt the
effect of the new bandage at once. His headache began to abate rapidly,
and with the departure of pain his views of life became much more
cheerful.

"I never saw you before, Dr. Inmutanka," he said, "but I know you're one
of the finest physicians in all the West. Whatever school you graduated
from should give you all the degrees it has to give. Again, I thank
you."

The Indian seemed not to understand a word he said, but no one could
mistak