and raging malevolently. "Arrest those blackguards,
arrest them instantly, Davies! Every man of them, by God! They shall pay
for this or there's no power in Washington." But Davies never moved hand
or foot. Calmly eying the surrounding crowd, he was searching for some
familiar face among the scowling warriors. Some few were men well on in
years, others mere striplings. Some were still covertly fuming with rage
for battle, others slyly tittering at the agent's expense, but all faces
were turned in instant interest, all ears attent when Davies began to
speak. "Where is Charging Bear?" he asked. "What is the meaning of this
riot?"

Probably not ten Indians in the throng could speak a dozen words of
reputable English; probably not ten, however, failed to read his
meaning.

"Charging Bear is not here," suddenly spoke in deep guttural a grizzly
Indian, who urged his pony forward. "The son of McPhail struck and
kicked the son of White Wolf,--the son of a clerk struck the first-born
of a war chief, and the Great Father's man would punish, not the
striker, but the struck."

"Nab that damned lying scoundrel, Davies. He put 'em up to this whole
business. He's another of your mission whelps. I know you, Thunder
Hawk," continued McPhail, his courage and his choler rising alike as he
saw that the Indians were slowly recoiling, and evidently meant no
further mischief. "I know you, and I order your arrest right here and
now. As for the young dog that attacked my son, I'll demand him of White
Wolf in half an hour with five hundred soldiers at my back."

"Then bring your own, who gave the first blow, if you want him in
exchange. As for me," continued the old man, in calm dignity, "I have
done no wrong, but my people shall not be made to suffer because of me.
I know the power of the Great Father, but he would not demand my
surrender to such as you. Here is the chief to whom the Indian yields,"
he said, turning to the lieutenant, and then, riding a pony length
closer, gravely swung his handsome repeating rifle from its
gayly-fringed sheath of skins and extended it, butt foremost, to Davies.

But before that officer could receive the proffered rifle a warning cry
came from the outskirts of the swarm. There was instantaneous lashing of
quirts, a sudden scurry and rush, and like one great herd of elk smitten
with sudden panic, away surged and sped the entire throng, Thunder
Hawk's stampeded pony bearing him irresistibly away with the res