An imperious wave of the hand accompanied the Indian's question, and the wild yell that answered it told Midnight Jack that his terrible doings were approved.
He walked forward, and unflinchingly took the extended hands of the chiefs, and saw Gopher Gid staring at him with distended eyes.
“Shall the white dog lie on Sioux ground?” said one of the older chiefs, bestowing a look of disgust upon Tanglefoot's body.
“No!” thundered Setting Sun. “Let him be carried up among the trees, that the flesh-eaters of the sky shall not come to earth to devour him. To the trees with him! Where are our people?”
A few moments sufficed for some Indians to place Tanglefoot upon his pony, and, with a gleam of joy in his eyes, Gopher Gid saw him borne away.
The sun went down.
Its last rays saw the opening of the feast that follows the sun-dance; it was Midnight Jack that glided through the village, hunting for his sister Dora.
Suddenly a hand was laid on his arm, and he beheld Mouseskin standing at his side.
“Squatting Bear had friends; they are whispering together. They say that the skin of our Teton brother is white, but they lie. They are mad! they swear to avenge the death of the white Sioux.”
“Not out of the fire yet!” muttered the road-agent, and then he drew the boy aside.