“Pity me, Old Man,” she said.  “Take this fearful thing from my lips.”

“I do not doctor unless I am paid,” he replied.  Then said the girl:  “See all my father’s Weapons hanging there.  His shield, war head-dress, scalps, and knife.  Cure me now, and I will give you some of them.”

“I have more of such things than I want,” he replied. (What a liar! he had none at all.)

Again said the girl, “Pity me, help me now, and I will give you my father’s white buffalo robe.”

“I have plenty of white robes,” replied Old Man. (Again he lied, for he never had one.)

“Old Man,” again said the girl, “in this lodge lives a widow woman, my father’s relation.  Remove this fearful thing from my lips, and I will have my father give her to you.”

“Now you speak well,” replied Old Man.  “I am a little glad.  I have many wives” (he had none), “but I would just as soon have another one.”

So he went close to the child and pretended to doctor her, but instead of that, he killed her and ran out.  He went to the old women’s lodge, and wrapped a strip of cowskin about his head, and commenced to groan, as if he was very sick.

Now the people began to come from the pis’kun, carrying great loads of meat.  This dead girl’s mother came, and when she saw her child lying dead, and blood on the ground, she ran back crying out:  “My daughter has been killed!  My daughter has been killed!”

Then all the people began to shout out and run around, and the warriors and young men looked in the lodges, and up and down the creek in the brush, but they could find no one who might have killed the child.

Then said the father of the dead girl:  “Now, to-day, we will find out who killed this child.  Every man in this camp—­every young man, every old man—­must come and jump across the creek; and if any one does not jump across, if he falls in the water, that man is the one who did the killing.”  All heard this, and they began to gather at the creek, one behind another; and the women and children went to look on, for they wanted to see the person who had killed the little child.  Now they were ready.  They were about to jump, when some one cried out, “Old Man is not here.”

“True,” said the chief, looking around, “Old Man is not here.”  And he sent two young men to bring him.

“Old Man!” they cried out, when they came to the lodge, “a child has been killed.  We have all got to jump to find out who did it.  The chief has sent for you.  You will have to jump, too.”

“Ki’-yo!” exclaimed the old women.  “Old Man is very sick.  Go off, and let him alone.  He is so sick he could not kill meat for us to-day.”

“It can’t be helped,” the young men replied.  “The chief says every one must jump.”

So Old Man went out toward the creek very slowly, and very much scared.  He did not know what to do.  As he was going along he saw a ni’-po-muk-i[1] and he said:  “Oh my little brother, pity me.  Give me some of your power to jump the creek, and here is my necklace.  See how pretty it is.  I will give it to you.”