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Updated: June 14, 2025
Nothing that ever bestrode a horse was more exquisitely supple than the well-laid form of this young Indian man; his fame as a hunter was great, but the taking of the Absaroke scalp was transcendent. Still, it was not possible to realize any matrimonial hopes which he was led to entertain, for his four ponies would buy no girl fit for him.
They had often spied on the fort but always found the protecting Absaroke too numerous. The scouts of the Fire Eater, however, found immense trace of their enemy's main camp as it moved up the valley of the Yellow-stone. They knew that the Absaroke had finished their yellow-grass trading and had gone to hunt the buffalo. They hoped to find the little fort unprotected.
The white chief glanced at the boy as he sat there on a sturdy little clip-maned war-pony the one he had stolen from the Absaroke. He spoke, and the interpreter continued: "The trader says he will take the pony you are riding as one of the three." "Tell him that I say I would not give this pony for all the goods I see.
After a moment Red Arrow exclaimed: "My medicine says go with White Otter, and do what he says. It is good." "Come, then; we will take the war-ponies from beside the blue-and-yellow tepee. They belong to a chief and are good. We will strike an Absaroke if we can. Come with me." White Otter then glided forward in the darkness toward the camp.
Only last night, a few of his boy companions, some even younger than himself, had gone away to the Absaroke for glory and scalps, and ponies and women a war-party the one thing to which an Indian pulsed with his last drop. He had thought to go also, but his father had discouraged him, and yesterday presented him with charcoal ashes in his right hand, and two juicy buffalo ribs with his left.
A great wind moaned through the encampment and in crushing reverberations the Thunder Bird spoke to the Fire Eater: "Go go to the Absaroke take up your pony-whip your gun wants to talk to them your ponies squeal on the ropes your bat says no arrow or bullet can find him you will find me over your head in time of danger.
The wolves betook themselves slowly off, with many wistful looks behind, but one in particular, more lately arrived at the feast, lingered in the rear. Selecting this one, Red Arrow called: "O gray wolf of my clan, answer me this question. White Otter and I are going to the Absa-roke for scalps shall we have fortune, or is the Absaroke medicine too strong?"
Over the spider stooped the two seekers of truth, while White Otter got the spider on the body of the log, where he crushed it with his bow. The globular insect burst into a splash of blood, and the young savage threw back his shoulders with a haughty grunt, saying, "My medicine is strong we shall go to the middle of the Absaroke village," and Red Arrow gave his muttered assent.
"Yes, I did that but my medicine grew weak when it looked at the great camp of the Absaroke. Your medicine was very strong, White Otter; there is no old warrior in the Chis-chis-chash whose is stronger. I shall take the charcoal again, and see if the Good God won't strengthen my medicine."
It had many brass tacks driven into the stock, and was bright in its cheap newness. As the Bat took it in his hand he felt a nervous thrill, such as he had not experienced since the night he had pulled the dripping hair from the Absaroke.
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