slippery ridge to a deep
hole. Here I took up my position. I guarded the pass with my bow and
arrows, and they could not reach me unless they should follow the ridge
in single file. I knew that they would not storm my position, for that
is not the Indian way of fighting, but I supposed that they would try
to tire me out. They yelled and hooted, and shot many bullets and arrows
over my head to terrify me into surrender, but I remained motionless and
silent.

"Night came, with a full round moon. All was light as day except the
place where I stood, half frozen and not daring to move. The bottom of
the gulch was as black as a well and almost as cold. The wolves howled
all around me in the stillness. At last I heard the footsteps of horses
retreating, and then no other sound. Still I dared not come out. I must
have slept, for it was dawn when I seemed to hear faintly the yelling of
warriors, and then I heard my own name.

"'Zuyamani, tokiya nunka huwo?' (Where are you, Zuyamani?) they shouted.
A party of my friends had come out to meet me and had followed our
trail. I was scarcely able to walk when I came out, but they filled the
pipe and held it up to me, as is done in recognition of distinguished
service. They escorted me into the post, singing war songs and songs of
brave deeds, and there I delivered up his letters to the Chief Soldier."

Again the drum was struck and the old men cheered Zuyamani, who added:

"I think that Poor Dog was right, for the Great Father never gave me any
credit, nor did he ever reward me for what I had done. Yet I have not
been without honor, for my own people have not forgotten me, even though
I went upon the white man's errand."

VII. THE GRAVE OF THE DOG

The full moon was just clear of the high mountain ranges. Surrounded by
a ring of bluish haze, it looked almost as if it were frozen against the
impalpable blueblack of the reckless midwinter sky.

The game scout moved slowly homeward, well wrapped in his long buffalo
robe, which was securely belted to his strong loins; his quiver tightly
tied to his shoulders so as not to impede his progress. It was enough to
carry upon his feet two strong snow-shoes; for the snow was deep and its
crust too thin to bear his weight.

As he emerged from the lowlands into the upper regions, he loomed up
a gigantic figure against the clear, moonlit horizon. His picturesque
foxskin cap with all its trimmings was incrusted with frost from the
brea