“Will you tell them all this for me?” “Yes.” “Tell them also that many thousands of moons ago He sent His Son down out of the sky to teach all the people of the earth His will. Do you understand?” The chief nodded his head. He had heard the story before, he said, when he visited a village of the Pawnees and listened to the words of a “white medicine man.” He did not know whether it was true or not, but some of the Pawnees had believed it. “It is certainly true,” replied the border king. “We white men believe it. He healed the sick. He brought dead men to life. He walked on the great lake. He stilled the tempest. He made the winds and waves obey Him. Our fathers saw it long ago, and they have told us.” “Good! He was a great man.” “He was the son of the Great Spirit.” Running Water bowed his head in reverence. “He told us what was His will, and what we must do to be happy after death, when we go to the land of spirits. He said we must forgive our enemies and do good to them, and then the Great Spirit would forgive us and make us happy in His hunting grounds. Do you understand all this?” Running Water seemed greatly interested, although a look of indignation and scorn crossed his features when his companion spoke of forgiving his enemies. That was utterly opposed to all he had been taught, from his youth up, though not to his natural disposition. But the look passed, and to the last question he replied quickly: “We un’stand little. Not too much. My white brother may speak um again.” Buffalo Bill did so, telling the story over and over again. Running Water listened very attentively, and promised to report this strange tale to his people in the morning. “Are you sure, my brother,” he asked, “that the son of the Great Spirit walked on the top of the water?” “Yes.” “And made the wind go back and the waves fall down flat?” “Yes.” “And made dead men live again?” “Yes.” “Are you sure?” “Quite sure.” “Me tell my people. Let my brother sleep now. It is late.” CHAPTER XXXVI. BLACK PANTHER’S HAND. The prisoner was awakened early, and had the bonds removed from his arms and ankles, so that his limbs might recover their natural vigor before the hour of the dreadful ordeal appointed for him. His friends found him utterly despondent, and Buffalo Bill, who was first at his side, said nothing of his last interview with Running Water, or of the promised conference of the morning. He did not wish to arouse hopes which might be doomed to disappointment. “I know it will be useless for me to run,” the captive said, “and I am resolved not to attempt it, save on one condition.” “What is that?” “Let me have that loaded revolver,” the man whispered. “Smuggle it to me somehow, so that none of these guards will see it.” “What will you do with it?”