that he comes. What have we to insure his return,
except the Indian's faith in the hereafter and that the Great Manitou
will punish him in the Happy Hunting Ground if he disobeys the Kiowa
Council and splits his heart with a lie when he promised to return?"

At this moment a shout was heard and a mounted runner quickly appeared,
his horse covered with flecks of foam and nostrils deeply blowing.

"Polar Bear comes. He runs like the deer of the plains, when we lived in
sight of the great mountains, the home of the Utes."

The council suspended all manifestations. The executioner examined his
rifle. Polar Bear entered and bowed his head, then looked aloft and
pointed to the sky.

"I am ready," was all he said.

The hour lacked ten minutes of the expired time. The executioner
motioned and Polar Bear followed. Under a large oak he took his stand,
stripped to the waist, a scarlet heart painted over his own. The
executioner took his place, a few steps away, sighted his rifle at the
painted heart, a puff of smoke, a sharp report, a gush of blood, and
Polar Bear had atoned for his crime. Chiquita turned to Jack and asked:

"Is there another nation in the world where their criminals return of
their own accord to suffer the death penalty?"

Most of the summer vacations of her college life Chiquita spent among
the forests, crags and parks on the Ute reservation or in her mountain
home near Middle Park. Hundreds of student friends visited her at the
latter place and were entertained for weeks in a royal manner, to their
great pleasure, a result which does not always follow the lavish
expenditure of money. Tents, tepees, lodges, log cabins and quaint
cottages were set apart for the use of the guests. A beautiful rustic
chapel improvised for religious services and a hall for indoor
entertainment were erected near the small hotel at the source of Rock
Creek, where a famous iron and soda spring bubbles forth its sparkling
waters of more than ordinary quality. The adjacent hills furnished
abundance of deer, and even bear, and the famous catches of trout
perpetuated the glory of a summer on Rock Creek as a lifelong realistic
dream. The most elaborate of Indian trappings adorned the various
abodes. Canoes silently sped along the surface of an artificial lake
made by repairing an old beaver dam, and in the corral Ute ponies,
Mexican burros or American-bred saddle horses, besides traps, brakes and
coaches presented a never-tiring arr