other side. As he was about to mount his pony, however, he saw a warrior rise to his feet, and stand boldly outlined on the top of the hill. It was an entirely unexpected maneuver, and White Otter instantly became suspicious. He feared that it was a trick to lead him into a trap. He looked anxiously about the plain to make sure that other crafty foes were not circling around behind him to cut off his retreat. He saw no one except the mysterious stranger on the top of the hill. He seemed to be watching White Otter as intently as the latter was watching him. For some time neither moved.

White Otter finally decided that, as the unknown scout was too far away to be identified, it would be foolish to waste more time watching him. He determined to continue on his way toward the Sioux camp. If he learned that he was being followed he planned to turn aside on a false trail until it grew dark. Then he would circle back toward the Ogalala village.

As White Otter mounted his pony and started away, however, the warrior on the knoll suddenly showed signs of life. The Sioux had ridden less than an arrow flight when the sentinel disappeared over the brow of the hill. White Otter felt quite certain that his pursuit had begun. He watched anxiously over his shoulder for the first glimpse of his foes. The Crows had lately been seen in that vicinity, and he wondered if a company of those hated enemies were about to come racing along his trail. He did not force his pony, however, as he was eager to learn the identity of his pursuers before he raced away for the Sioux camp.

White Otter did not have long to wait. In a few moments a solitary horseman swept over a rise of the plain and galloped toward him. The Sioux felt sure that it was the warrior who had been watching him. As the stranger appeared to be alone, and eager to fight, White Otter prepared for battle. Before venturing within arrow range, however, the rider suddenly wheeled his pony, and raced around White Otter at great speed. The Sioux immediately stopped and prepared to defend himself. Then he suddenly discovered that the horseman was a friend.

"Ho, Dacotah! Ho, my brother!" shouted the rider.

"Yes, yes, now I see who you are," cried White Otter, as he lowered his bow.

A moment later they dismounted beside each other. White Otter recognized the rider as a Minneconjoux warrior named Lean Wolf, an old friend with whom he had shared several perilous adventures.

"I have brought you some words from your brother, Sun Bird," said Lean Wolf.

"It is good," White Otter replied, eagerly, as his eyes lighted with pleasure.

"It is bad," Lean Wolf said, soberly.

"Has something bad happened to my brother Sun Bird?" the young Ogalala inquired anxiously.

"No, I have not come to tell you that," Lean Wolf assured him. "I have come to tell you that our enemies, the Blackfeet, came to our camp. They crawled around the village in the dark like dogs. We did not hear them. They ran off many ponies. Sun Bird is going to bring back those ponies. He is the leader of a war party. He is going to fight the boastful Blackfeet. He wants his brother White Otter to go with him."

Lean Wolf finished speaking, and looked inquiringly at the young Ogalala war chief. For some moments the latter remained silent. He knew that a warrior must not speak hastily, or pledge himself too eagerly. Although his heart beat wildly at the thought of joining his friend in a war expedition against the Blackfeet, he carefully concealed his emotion lest he might lose respect in the eyes of the stern Minneconjoux scout. Then, after the proper interval, White Otter replied:

"Lean Wolf, tell my brother Sun Bird that I will go with him to fight the Blackfeet," he said, quietly.

"It is good," replied Lean Wolf.

"See, pretty soon it will be dark," said White Otter. "You must go with me to my people."

"No, I will go back," Lean Wolf told him. "I was going to your village to find you. Then I saw you here. It is good. I have brought you the words of your brother Sun Bird. It is what I set out to do. I have done it. Now I will turn back. Sun Bird is waiting."

"Go, my brother," replied White Otter. "Tell Sun Bird that I will come to meet him at the end of three suns. If I do not come then he must wait one sun more. Then if I do not come he will know that something bad has happened to me. Now I am going away."

They parted without further ceremony, riding away into the twilight in opposite directions. Once they had separated neither looked back. After he had ridden a short distance, however, White Otter raised his head and uttered the wild, piercing war cry of the Dacotahs. It echoed defiantly across the plain, and the young war chief thrilled at the sound. Then, after a short silence, it was answered from the west. White Otter laughed gleefully as he raced his pony toward the Sioux camp.

CHAPTER II

OFF ON THE WAR TRAIL

When White Otter reached the Sioux camp he rode directly to the lodge of old Wolf Robe, the famous Ogalala war chief.

"Ho, grandfather, see, I have brought you some meat," he cried gayly.

"Ho, I see that you have killed a fat young buck," said Wolf Robe, as his eyes lighted with pleasure. "Come, woman, cut some meat."

At his command, old Singing Wind, the grandmother of White Otter, came from the lodge. White Otter dragged the buck from his pony. Then, as Singing Wind called some of the younger women to help her, White Otter asked if he might talk with Wolf Robe.

"Yes, my son, come into the lodge and sit down with me," said Wolf Robe.

The old chief listened attentively while White Otter described his unusual adventure with the lynx. Then he told of his meeting with Lean Wolf, the Minneconjoux scout, and the message which the latter had brought from Sun Bird. Wolf Robe looked sharply at his grandson.

"I am going with Sun Bird to fight the Blackfeet," declared White Otter.

Wolf Robe nodded understandingly, but made no reply. For a long time he gazed thoughtfully at his battle-scarred war shield which hung on a tripod of poles at the rear of the lodge. It appeared as if the aged war leader was recalling his own glorious achievements on the war trail in the days of his youth. White Otter waited patiently for him to speak.

"It is good," Wolf Robe said, finally. "The voice of a friend travels far. The ears of a Dacotah are open for the words of a friend. Sun Bird has called you. He is your friend. You must go."

Having given this advice, Wolf Robe again subsided into silent meditation. As White Otter rose to leave, however, his grandfather motioned for him to be seated.

"Wait, my son, I have some words for you," he said.

"It is good," replied White Otter.

"You say that you are going to fight the Blackfeet," said Wolf Robe. "Those people are strong. They are braver than the boastful Pawnees. I have fought with them many times. When I was a young man I was taken to their village. They kept me there many moons. Those were bad days. Then I got away. After that I fought many battles against those people. Once I went to their camp, and took away some ponies. It was a hard thing to do. Yes, my son, the Blackfeet are great warriors. Well, I have told you about them. Now you can tell our brothers, the Minneconjoux, about it. I believe you will have a big fight to get back those ponies. My son, you are a Dacotah. It is enough. I have spoken. Go!"

The following day, at sunrise, White Otter set out to join the