The boy skinned the calf and cow that he had killed, and then he packed the meat on the horse and put the spotted robe on top of the load, and started back to camp on foot, leading the dun horse. But even with his heavy load the horse pranced all the while, and was scared at everything he saw. On the way to camp, one of the rich young chiefs of the tribe rode up to the boy, and offered him twelve good horses for the spotted robe, so that he could marry the head chief's daughter, but the boy laughed at him and would not sell the robe.

Now, while the boy walked to the camp leading the dun horse, most of the warriors rode back, and one of those that came first to the village went to the old woman and said to her: “Your grandson has killed the spotted calf.” And the old woman said: “Why do you come to tell me this? You ought to be ashamed to make fun of my boy because he is poor.” The warrior rode away, saying, “What I have told you is true.” After a while another brave rode up to the old woman, and said to her: “Your grandson has killed the spotted calf.” Then the old woman began to cry, she felt so badly because every one made fun of her boy because he was poor.

Pretty soon the boy came along, leading the horse up to the lodge where he and his grandmother lived. It was a little lodge, just big enough for two, and was made of old pieces of skin that the old woman had picked up, and was tied together with strings of rawhide and sinew. It was the meanest and worst lodge in the village. When the old woman saw her boy leading the dun horse with a load of meat and the robes on it, she was very much surprised. The boy said to her: “Here, I have brought you plenty of meat to eat, and here is a robe that you may have for yourself. Take the meat off the horse.” Then the old woman laughed, for her heart was glad. But when she went to take the meat from the horse's back, he snorted and jumped about, and acted like a wild horse. The old woman looked at him and wondered, and could hardly believe that it was the same horse. So the boy had to take off the meat, for the horse would not let the old woman come near him.

That night the horse again spoke to the boy, and said: “Wa-ti-hes Chah-ra-rat-wa-ta.” To-morrow the Sioux are coming in a large war-party. They will attack the village, and you will have a great battle. Now, when the Sioux are drawn up in line of battle, and are all ready to fight, you jump on me, and ride as hard as you can, right into the middle of the Sioux, and up to their head chief, their greatest warrior, and count coup on him, and kill him, and then ride back. Do this four times, and count coup on four of the bravest Sioux, and kill them, but don't go again. If you go the fifth time, maybe you will be killed, or else you will lose me. “La-ku-ta-chix” (remember). The boy promised.

The next day it happened as the horse had said, and the Sioux came down and formed in line of battle. Then the boy took his bow and arrows, and jumped on the dun horse, and charged into the midst of them. And when the Sioux saw that he was going to strike their head chief, they all shot their arrows at him, and the arrows flew so thickly across each other that they darkened the sky, but none of them hit the boy, and he counted coup on the chief and killed him, and then rode back. After that he charged again among the Sioux, where they were gathered the thickest, and counted coup on their bravest warrior and killed him. And then twice more, until he had gone four times as the horse had told him.

But the Sioux and the Pawnees kept on fighting, and the boy stood around and watched the battle. At last he said to himself, “I have been four times and have killed four Sioux; why may I not go again?” So he jumped on the dun horse and charged again. But when he got among the Sioux, one Sioux warrior drew an arrow and shot. The arrow struck the dun horse behind the fore legs and pierced him through. And the horse fell down dead. But the boy jumped off and fought his way through the Sioux and ran away as fast as he could to the Pawnees. Now, as soon as the horse was killed, the Sioux said to each other, “This horse was like a man. He was brave. He was not like a horse.” And they took their knives and hatchets and hacked the dun horse and gashed his flesh, and cut him into small pieces.

The Pawnees and Sioux fought all day long, but toward night the Sioux broke and fled.

The boy felt very badly that he had lost his horse, and after the fight was over he went out from the village to where it had taken place to mourn for his horse. He went to the spot where the horse lay, and gathered up all the pieces of flesh which the Sioux had cut off, and the legs and hoofs, and put them all together in a pile. Then he went off to the top of a hill near by and sat down and drew his robe over his head, and began to mourn for his horse.

As he sat there, he heard a great wind storm coming up, and it passed over him with a loud rushing sound, and after the wind came a rain. The boy looked down from where he sat to the pile of flesh and bones, which was all that was left of the horse, and he could just see it through the rain. And the rain passed by, and his heart was very heavy and he kept on mourning.

And pretty soon came another rushing wind, and after it a rain; and as he looked through the driving rain toward the spot where the pieces lay, he thought that they seemed to come together and take shape, and that the pile looked like a horse lying down, but he could not see very well for the thick rain.