"No, they did not see us," White Otter declared, confidently. "I believe they are scouts. Perhaps they are Blackfeet."
"No, they are not Blackfeet," said Sun Bird. "I know those people a long ways off."
"Well, they do not look like Crows," White Otter told him.
"No, they are not Crows," replied Sun Bird.
"Who are they?" demanded White Otter.
"I cannot tell you that until they come closer," Sun Bird told him.
In the meantime one of the horsemen had left his companions and was riding cautiously toward the ridge. His friends were watching him closely and seemed ready to rush to his assistance at the first warning of danger. As the scout drew steadily nearer, the Sioux studied him with great care. Sun Bird was positive that he was not a Blackfoot, and both of them were equally certain that he was not a Crow. The Crows allowed their hair to grow to great length, and wore it in two massive braids which often fell below their knees. The man who was approaching the ridge, however, had a great abundance of rather short, unbraided hair, which fell loosely about his shoulders. As Sun Bird noted it, and the high, peculiar shape of the warrior's head he suddenly identified him.
"Now I know about him," he told White Otter. "He is a Flathead. It is bad. They are enemies of my people. We must watch out."
"I have heard my grandfather tell about those people," said White Otter.
He recalled the stories which old Wolf Robe had told about how the Flatheads flattened the heads of their children by tightly binding the skulls of the babies between stiff slabs of bark, and keeping them in the vise until the skulls were pressed into the desired shape. Those strange people considered a high, flat skull a great mark of beauty. As they were a northern tribe, hovering about the mountains, it was the first time White Otter had encountered them. He studied the approaching rider with curious interest.