“Ugh! It is wonder-work, indeed!” exclaimed Red Knife. “It is a great medicine.”
“It is a great and good medicine. No brave in Red Knife’s tribe has a medicine like this.”
“There are no two medicines alike in this world,” grunted the brave philosophically.
Cody went to the bag strapped to Chief’s saddle, unbuckled a pocket, and brought out a small packet tied in wash-leather and oilskin. When he was in Denver he had made a purchase for a brother scout, but so far had not run up against the man to give it to him. He came back to the fire, squatted down beside Red Knife, and unwrapped the exact counterpart of his own “magic cup,” only this was brighter and unused.
“Waugh!” ejaculated the Indian, starting back.
“You see, here is another of the magic cups. I have long had two medicines,” said Buffalo Bill, drawing slightly on his imagination. “They are good medicines. They have brought me good luck and made me successful in the chase, and in war. The Red Knife has no medicine. What would he do for the possession of this?” and the scout held out the compass temptingly.
Red Knife could barely restrain himself now. His cheeks actually flushed, and his eyes glistened.
“The Red Knife is a man!” he cried. “He will fight the Long Hair for the good medicine.”
“Nay. The Long Hair cannot battle at once with he whom he has fed. The Red Knife and the Long Hair are brothers. The Long Hair will give his red brother the magic cup,” and he thrust the compass into the brave’s willing hand.
“In return,” Cody pursued, “Red Knife will take the tale of Death Killer’s treachery into Oak Heart’s village. Come! Long Hair will show his brother the medicine chief’s braves lurking for the scalp of Long Hair. It is a true tale. Red Knife will tell Oak Heart himself.”