On a certain occasion, a band of one hundred and fifty Chien warriors made an assault on the Mandan village at early dawn, drove off a number of horses, and took one scalp. Mah-to-toh-pa, though a young man, yet, as one of the most valiant of his tribe, pursued with a party of fifty. About noon of the second day, they came in sight of the enemy. Finding them more numerous than was imagined, the Mandans were about to return, when their young leader galloped out in front, and, after wheeling in a circuit, plunged his lance into the ground. The blade was driven up to the hilt. He then made another circuit, tore from his breast his red sash, and hung it on the lance as a flag. He now called out to the retreating Mandans, “What! have we come to this? Have we dogged the enemy three days, and found them, now to go back like cowards? Mah-to-toh-pa’s lance, which is red with the blood of brave men, has led you to the sight of your enemy; it now stands firm in the ground, where the earth will drink its owner’s blood; you may all go back, and Mah-to-toh-pa will fight these warriors alone.” The Chiens had now turned back to give the Mandans battle, and their leader, admiring the gallant conduct of Mah-lo-toh-pa, galloped forward within hailing distance, and demanded who it was that had thus stuck down his lance, and alone defied his enemies? The answer was, “I am Mah-to-toh-pa, the second in command of the brave and valiant Mandans!” The Chien chief then said, “I have heard often of Mah-to-toh-pa; he is a great warrior. Dares he come forward and fight with me alone, while our warriors look on?” “Is he a chief who speaks to Mah-to-toh-pa?“ was the reply. The Chien answered, “My scalps you see hanging to my horse’s bits; and here is my lance, with the ermine-skins and the war-eagle’s tail.” “It is enough,” said Mah-to-toh-pa.