was not willing anyone should share the
sweetness of revenge with him. He traveled fast, and drew nigh enough
to catch sight of the two on the second day following their flight. He
did not carry his bow, but had his knife and tomahawk, while the youth
possessed no weapon at all. Had a knife been his, he would not have
used it against Wahla, because he was the father of the maiden whom he
loved more than his life.

"When the two found they could not flee faster than the wrathful
chieftain, they paused and waited for him to come up. Then Mita threw
herself at the feet of her father and prayed him to spare the life of
the Cheyenne. The chief spurned her and ran after the young warrior.
The youth did not flee, but stood with folded arms, calmly awaiting
him.

"'Slay me,' he said, 'but when I die Mita will die with me!'

"Heedless of the appeal, the furious chieftain plunged his knife into
the breast of the youth, who sank to the earth and breathed out his
life. Wahla turned to seize his daughter, but at that moment a wild
shriek rent the air, and she died, clasping his knees and moaning that
he had slain her as well as the Cheyenne.

"When Wahla saw what he had done, he started to hurry to his village,
but his mind had gone from him. You were told that he had been wounded
by the Cheyenne in battle. The wound was in the thigh of the chief, and
it now broke out afresh, as if in punishment for the crime he had
committed. It made him limp sorely, but he would not stop, and ran
faster than ever. Because of his halt gait, he ran in a circle.

"Round and round he went all night, when he perished, but the Great
Spirit kept him running throughout the days and weeks that followed
until he became a shadow. His feet wore a circular path, which may be
seen to-day, as Mul-tal-la has looked upon it many times and my
brothers may do if they will journey a few days to the southward.

"But Mul-tal-la now tells the strangest part of this story. In the
years that have passed since Wahla slew the Cheyenne lover, and his
daughter died at his feet, the storms would have wiped away all signs
of the path long ago. But it remains as distinct as ever. This is
because the spirit of Wahla tramps it round and round all through the
nights when the moon does not shine, for no one can see him running
over the ground.

"When you look toward the slope of the mountain you can see the circle
as plain as we see those sticks burning in the middle of the