"Oh, of course." Rain counted on her fingers. "Seven suns ago, you rode with the big chief Many Horses, and you told him that my man and I are frauds."
"Rain counts coup!" cried her brother Heap-of-dogs, exultant. "Didn't I warn you?"
"So," Rising Wolf probed shrewdly, "Many Horses has sent a rider ahead to prepare you for this visit."
"Hyai yo! You think the head chief too good a sportsman!"
"I did," the white man retorted; "you read my mind."
"That is true, Rising Wolf," answered the priestess, amused by his chagrin. "You rode leading your painted war horse, who tried to plead, poor thing, that the trotting was bad for his wound."
"What do you mean?"
"That your war horse has an arrow point behind his off shoulder blade, but you mistake the lameness for cracked heel."
"The head chief said it was cracked heel, but, by Jove, you may be right! How on earth——"
"Not on earth," answered the priestess gently, "for you didn't see me riding your led horse, you didn't hear him pleading to me in his pain, you didn't remember the red stone arrow points when the Snake braves attacked you down at the Pisk'un. You will not believe until the red arrowhead works out to the skin, at Leaf Fall."