Sun Bird stared wildly into the face of the speaker. He could scarcely believe him. Then the truth suddenly flashed across his mind. He understood why White Otter had risked himself.
"Yes, yes, I know about it," he said.
He called the two riders to follow him and galloped away to lead his valiant company against the Blackfeet. The latter had rallied from their confusion and were riding from the camp.
In the meantime White Otter and Little Raven had ridden boldly along the edge of the camp until they reached the spot where the famous black war pony was kept. Then White Otter dismounted, and left his pony with Little Raven. Taking advantage of the darkness and the confusion in the Blackfeet camp, the daring Ogalala moved swiftly between the lodges. It was only a moment or so before he encountered his foes. A frightened old woman took him for one of her people and ran to him for protection. He grumbled fiercely at her and sprang away before she recognized him. The next instant two excited warriors dashed past within bow length, and called him to follow them. Then the way seemed clear, and he hurried toward the corral. His heart beat wildly as he suddenly saw the log inclosure before him. When he reached it, however, he saw that it, too, was empty. The famous black pony had been taken away.
For some moments the disappointed young Sioux lingered beside the corral. He was blaming himself for having refused the opportunity which had presented itself the night before. At that time the great trophy had been almost within his grasp. Now he believed it was forever beyond his reach. He told himself that he had been foolish to surrender his chance. Then he suddenly thrilled with the pride of sacrifice. He was a Dacotah, and the Dacotahs had relied upon him to help them against their foes. He had nobly performed his duty to the tribesmen who had given him their confidence. His act had brought success to the Minneconjoux. The thought roused him. His own loss was forgotten as he rejoiced in the victory of his people.
"I have done a good thing," he said, joyfully.
Then as he saw fires beginning to gleam in various parts of the camp, he realized that it was time to go. As he ran toward the edge of the camp a dog suddenly appeared before him. It faced him with bared fangs and flashing eyes, and its deep, ugly growls gave warning of an intention to fight.
"Hi, you foolish Blackfeet dog," cried White Otter, as he drove his arrow through it. "Now your people will know that I have been in their village."
He bounded past the struggling dog, and ran from the camp. Little Raven was waiting with the ponies.
"Come," cried White Otter, as he sprang upon the piebald. "The Blackfeet have ridden away on the war ponies. Some one took away that black pony. Now we must go to help our brothers. Listen! I hear them making a big fight."