nt when it
seemed as if the Indians were about to trample the Yellow-Eyes, a thin
trail of fire ran along the grass from the barricade and with a blinding
flash a keg of powder exploded with terrific force right under the front
feet of the rushing ponies. Pistols cracked from behind the pile of
roped goods. Four ponies lay kicking on the grass together with six
writhing men, all blackened, bleeding and scorched. The other ponies
reeled away from the shock--running hopelessly from the scene with
their unresting and half-stunned riders. All but one, for the Bat pulled
desperately at his hair-lariat which was tied to the under jaw of the
horse, striking his pony across the head with his elk-horn whip, and,
lashing fiercely, he rushed the pony right to the barricade. Firing his
rifle into it swerving, he struck the bunch of trapper-horses which had
already begun to trot away from the turbulent scene, and drove them off
in triumph. He alone had risen superior to the shock of the white man's
fire trap.

Four of the wounded Indians got slowly to their feet, one after the
other, and walked painfully away. The whites had reloaded meanwhile and
fatally shot the last man as he was nearly out of range.

When the defeated party came together, it made a mystic circle in the
turf of open prairie, not over three arrow flights from the Yellow-Eyes,
and there sat down. In the center lay the Indian dead and three
more, sightless, with their hair singed off and their bodies horribly
scorched, while Iron Horn was stretched on a blanket, shot through the
body and singing weakly his death-song.

"Let the Bat take the medicine--he is a strong warrior--the bursting
fire did not stop him. He ate the fire. I am a great warrior--I am a
great medicine-man, but I could not eat the fire. Brothers, the scalps
of the beaver hunters must dry in the Red Lodges." Then the dying
warrior became incoherent and scarcely mumbled. The Bat took black paint
from his fire bag and rubbed it on the face of the dying man while the
decreased circle of warriors yelped the death-cry dolorously. For an
hour this continued, rising and rising in scales until the sadness
had changed to fury. The Bat held the medicine toward the sun saying
"Mia-yu-ma--nis heva--la ma--nih. Nis tako navero na' hiko' no hi (Red
Lodges--he has taken pity on us--he will make you strong--I am strong)."

[Illustration: 10 He rushed the pony right to the barricade]

They took the dead and woun