of Inmutanka, where he had venison,
pemmican and water.

"Not so bad," he said to the old Indian. "I believe I'm a good herd for
ponies, though I'd rather do it riding than walking."

"To-morrow you scrape hides with squaws," said Inmutanka.

Will was disappointed, but he recalled that after the threat of Heraka
he should not expect to get off with such an easy task as the continual
herding of ponies. Scraping hides would be terribly wearying and it
would be a humiliation to put him with the old squaws. Nevertheless his
heart was light. The fate of the white captive too often was speedy and
horrible torture and death. He felt that the longer they were delayed,
less was the likelihood that he would ever have to suffer them at all.

He was awakened at dawn, and as soon as he had eaten he was put to his
task. Fresh buffalo hides were stretched tightly and staked upon the
ground, the inner side up, and he and a dozen old squaws began the labor
of scraping from them the last particles of flesh with small knives of
bone.

He cut his hands, his back ached, the perspiration streamed from his
face, and the squaws, far more expert than he, jeered at him
continually. Warriors also passed and uttered contemptuous words in an
unknown language. But Will, clinging to his resolution, pretended to
take no notice. Long before the day was over every bone in him was
aching and his hands were bleeding, but he made no complaint. When he
returned to the tepee Inmutanka put a lotion on his hands.

"It good for you, but must not tell," he said.

"I wouldn't dream of telling," said Will fervently. "God bless you,
Inmutanka. If there's any finer doctor than you anywhere in the world I
never heard of him."

But he had to go back to the task of scraping the skins early in the
morning, and for a week he labored at it, until he thought his back
would never straighten out again. He recalled that first day with the
pony herd. The labor there was heaven compared with that which he was
now doing. Perhaps he had been wrong to show his power with animals: If
he had pretended to be awkward and ignorant with horses they might have
kept him there.

He made no sign, nor did he give any hint to Inmutanka that he would
like a change. He judged, too, that he had inspired a certain degree of
respect and liking in the old Indian who put such effective ointment on
his hands every night that at the end of a week all the cuts and bruises
were healed. Moreo