Pretty soon the boy came along, leading the horse up to the lodge where he and his grandmother lived.  It was a little lodge, just big enough for two, and was made of old pieces of skin that the old woman had picked up, and was tied together with strings of rawhide and sinew.  It was the meanest and worst lodge in the village.  When the old woman saw her boy leading the dun horse with a load of meat and the robes on it, she was very much surprised.  The boy said to her:  “Here, I have brought you plenty of meat to eat, and here is a robe that you may have for yourself.  Take the meat off the horse.”  Then the old woman laughed, for her heart was glad.  But when she went to take the meat from the horse’s back, he snorted and jumped about, and acted like a wild horse.  The old woman looked at him and wondered, and could hardly believe that it was the same horse.  So the boy had to take off the meat, for the horse would not let the old woman come near him.

That night the horse again spoke to the boy, and said:  “Wa-ti-hes Chah-ra-rat-wa-ta.”  To-morrow the Sioux are coming in a large war-party.  They will attack the village, and you will have a great battle.  Now, when the Sioux are drawn up in line of battle, and are all ready to fight, you jump on me, and ride as hard as you can, right into the middle of the Sioux, and up to their head chief, their greatest warrior, and count coup on him, and kill him, and then ride back.  Do this four times, and count coup on four of the bravest Sioux, and kill them, but don’t go again.  If you go the fifth time, maybe you will be killed, or else you will lose me.  “La-ku-ta-chix” (remember).  The boy promised.

The next day it happened as the horse had said, and the Sioux came down and formed in line of battle.  Then the boy took his bow and arrows, and jumped on the dun horse, and charged into the midst of them.  And when the Sioux saw that he was going to strike their head chief, they all shot their arrows at him, and the arrows flew so thickly across each other that they darkened the sky, but none of them hit the boy, and he counted coup on the chief and killed him, and then rode back.  After that he charged again among the Sioux, where they were gathered the thickest, and counted coup on their bravest warrior and killed him.  And then twice more, until he had gone four times as the horse had told him.

But the Sioux and the Pawnees kept on fighting, and the boy stood around and watched the battle.  At last he said to himself, “I have been four times and have killed four Sioux; why may I not go again?” So he jumped on the dun horse and charged again.  But when he got among the Sioux, one Sioux warrior drew an arrow and shot.  The arrow struck the dun horse behind the fore legs and pierced him through.  And the horse fell down dead.  But the boy jumped off and fought his