ver, he had learned how to use the bone scrapers with
a sufficient degree of skill not to cut himself.

But he was still a daily subject of derision for the warriors, women and
children. It was the little Indian boys who annoyed him most, often
trying to thrust splinters into his arms or legs, although he invariably
pushed them away. He never struck any of them, however, and he saw that
his forbearance was beginning to win from the warriors, at least, a
certain degree of toleration.

When the scraping of the skins was finished he was set to work with some
of the old men making lances. These were formidable weapons, at least
twelve feet long, an inch to an inch and a half in diameter, ending in a
two-edged blade made of flint, elk horn or bone, and five or six inches
in length. The wood, constituting the body of the lance, had to be
scraped down with great care, and the prisoner toiled over them for many
days.

Then he began to make shields from the hide that grew on the neck of the
buffalo, where it was thickest. When it was denuded of hair the hide was
a full quarter of an inch through. Then it was cut in a circle two or
two and a half feet in diameter and two of the circles were joined
together, making a thickness of a full half inch. Dried thoroughly the
shield became almost as hard as iron, and the bullet of the
old-fashioned rifle would not penetrate it.

He also helped to make bows, the favorite wood being of osage orange,
although pine, oak, elm, elder and many other kinds were used, and he
was one of the toilers, too, at the making of arrows. Mounted on his
wiry pony with his strong shield, his long lance, his powerful bow and
quiver of arrows, the Sioux was a formidable warrior, and Will
understood how he had won the overlordship of such a vast area.

A month, in which he was subjected to the most unremitting toil, passed,
yet his spirit and body triumphed over it, and both grew stronger. He
felt now as if he could endure anything and he knew that he would be
called upon to endure much.

His youth and his plastic nature caused him to imitate to a certain
extent, and almost unconsciously, the manners and customs of those
around him. He became stoical, he pretended to an indifference which
often he did not feel, and he never spoke of the friends who had
disappeared so suddenly from his life, even to old Inmutanka. The
"doctor," as Will called him, was improving his English by practice, and
Will in return w