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Updated: June 12, 2025
Old Inmutanka did not awaken him when the dawn came, although most of the people were already at work, curing the meat of the bears and scraping and drying the huge hides. They were also putting more brush and stakes around the great corral for the ponies, and many were already saying it was Waditaka who had saved their horses for them the night before.
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."
"You take your place here with boys," said Inmutanka, "and see that ponies don't run up and down valley." He gave him a stick and left him with the little Sioux lads. Will considered the task extremely light, certainly not one that had a savor of slavery, but he soon found that he was surrounded by pests.
The reasons why he should continue the search were overwhelming, and despite the kindness of Inmutanka and the others he meant to escape from them whenever he could. The winter shut down fierce and hard. Will had never before known cold so intense and continuous.
Heraka, who was his superior chief, might return and command it, but Xingudan and the whole village would disobey. Moreover, he was now the adopted son of Inmutanka, a young Sioux warrior with all the rights of a Sioux, and the law forbade them to torture him or put him to death. And Indian laws were often better obeyed than white man's laws.
But he knew they were in high mountains, because the cold was great, and now and then he felt flurries of snow on his face, and at night he saw the loom of lofty peaks. But they did not treat him unkindly. Old Inmutanka threw a heavy fur robe over his shoulders, and when they camped they always built big fires, before which he slept, wrapped in blankets like the others. Heraka said but little.
But the day had all the intense cold of extreme winter in the great mountains of North America. The mercury was a full forty degrees below zero, and the Indians who worked with the spoils had only chin, eyes and mouth exposed. Among them came old Inmutanka, very erect and strong despite his years, and full of honest pride.
From the slopes also came fierce whines, and the old squaws, shuddering, built the fires yet higher. "Son of Inmutanka," said Xingudan at last to Will, "go to your lodge and sleep. You have proved anew that you are a man and worthy to belong to the great Dakota nation. The fires will be kept burning all through the night and see you, Inmutanka, that no one awakens him.
They were welcome words to Will, who had endured all the tortures of blindness without being blind. He felt the hands of the elderly Indian plucking at the bandage, and then it was drawn aside. "Thank you, Dr. Inmutanka," he said, but for a few moments a dark veil was before his eyes. Then it drifted aside, and he saw that it was night, a night in which the figures around him appeared dimly.
Many small articles of decoration or adornment hung about the walls. Inmutanka had been in the habit of shutting the door tightly at night, but as Will insisted upon leaving it open partly, no matter how bitter the weather, they always had plenty of fresh air and suffered from no colds.
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