ht also
at hand. It was like the touch of electricity. He was instantly
alive, body and mind. He knew who he was and what had
happened, and he wanted to get away. Now was the time!

The rawhide around Dick's waist was strong and it had been
secured with many knots. He picked at it slowly and with
greatest care, and all the time he was in fear lest the Sioux
should remember him. But the sun was now quite down, the last
bars of red and gold were gone, and the east as well as the west
was in darkness. The field of battle was hidden and only voices
came up from it. Two warriors passed on the slope of the hill
and Dick, ceasing his work, shrank against the trunk of the tree,
but they went on, and when they were out of sight he began again
to pick at the knots.

One knot after another was unloosed, and at last the rawhide fell
from his waist. He was free, but he staggered as he walked a
little way down the slope of the hill and his fingers were numb.
Yet his mind was wholly clear. It had recovered from the great
paralytic shock caused by the sight of the lost battle, and he
intended to take every precaution needed for escape.

He sat down in a little clump of bushes, where he was quite lost
to view, and rubbed his limbs long and hard until the circulation
was active. His wrists had stopped bleeding, and he bound about
them little strips that he tore from his clothing. Then he threw
away his cap--the Sioux did not wear caps, and he meant to look
as much like a Sioux as he could. That was not such a difficult
matter, as he was dressed in tanned skins, and wind and weather
had made him almost as brown as an Indian.

Midway of the slope he stopped and looked down. The night had
come, but the stars were not yet out. He could see only the near
lodges, but many torches flared now over the battle field and in
the village. He started again, bearing away from the hill on
which Custer had fallen, but pursuing a course that led chiefly
downstream. Once he saw dusky figures, but they took no notice
of him. Once a hideous old squaw, carrying some terrible trophy
in her hand, passed near, and Dick thought that all was lost. He
was really more afraid at this time of the sharp eyes of the old
squaws than those of the warriors. But she passed on, and Dick
dropped down into a little ravine that ran from the field. His
feet touched a tiny stream that trickled at the bottom of the
ravine, and he leaped away in shudderi