“It is good,” said Pretty Eagle. His voice seemed to enrage Cheschapah.
“Heh! it is always pretty good!” remarked Spotted Horse.
“I have done this too,” said Pounded Meat to his son, simply. “Once, twice, three times. The Crows have always been better warriors than the Piegans.”
“Have you made water boil like me?” Cheschapah said.
“I am not a medicine-man,” replied his father. “But I have taken horses and squaws from the Piegans. You make good medicine, maybe; but a cup of water will not kill many white men. Can you make the river boil? Let Cheschapah make bigger medicine, so the white man shall fear him as well as the Piegans, whose hearts are well known to us.”
Cheschapah scowled. “Pounded Meat shall have this,” said he. “I will make medicine to-morrow, old fool!”
“Drive him from the council!” said Pretty Eagle.
“Let him stay,” said Pounded Meat. “His bad talk was not to the council, but to me, and I do not count it.”
But the medicine-man left the presence of the chiefs, and came to the cabin of Kinney.