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It is great medicine, and belongs to the Great Spirit, not to me. I pulled it from the wound of an enemy." "Why do you not tie it to the lance, then?" "Hush!" rebuked Mahtotohpa. "If the Great Spirit had wished it to be tied on, it would never have come off." Whereupon, presently, he told the story of the mighty lance. This had been the lance of a famous Arikaree warrior, Won-ga-tap.
Then Mah-to-toh-pah went in, coolly seated himself by the smouldering fire, and, using the privilege of Indian hospitality, helped himself to meat that was in a kettle over the embers, and ate a hearty meal. "Who is that man who is eating in our lodge?" asked the wife several times. "Oh, let him alone. No doubt he is hungry," the easy-going Won-ga-tap answered.
Several days passed; and when Mahtotohpa himself found his brother, it was only the body, scalped and cut and pierced with an arrow, and fastened through the heart to the prairie by the lance of Won-ga-tap. Many in the village recognized that as the lance of Won-ga-tap.
Knowing it and the location of Won-ga-tap's lodge which suggests that he had visited the place in some friendly relation he entered at dusk and loitered about for a time, and then through rents in the covering watched Won-ga-tap smoke his last pipe and go to bed by the side of his wife.
Mah-to-toh-pa had a brother slain in open fight, let us remember by a Rickaree, who left his lance sticking in the dead man. Mah-to-toh-pa found the body, drew out the lance, and carried it to his village, where it was recognized as the property of a famous warrior named Won-ga-tap. He kept the bloodstained weapon, vowing that some day he would with it avenge his brother's death.
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