Heraka nodded, not as if it were a compliment, but as a mere statement of fact. Will considered. Would it be wise to ask about his friends? Might he not in doing so give some hint that could be used against them? The fierce gaze of the chief seemed actually to penetrate his physical body and read his mind. "You are thinking of those who were with you," he said. "My thoughts had turned to them." "Call them back. It is a waste." "Why do you say that, Heraka?" "Because they are all dead. Their scalps are drying at the belts of the warriors. You alone live as we had to strike you down in silence before we slew the others." Will shuddered over and over again. He was sick at both heart and brain. Could it be true? Could those men be dead? The wise Boyd, the cheerful Little Giant, and the grave and kindly Brady? Once more he looked Heraka straight in the eye, but the gaze of the chief did not waver. "I have hope, though but a little hope," he said, "that it pleases the chief to test me. He would see whether I can bear such news." "If the belief helps you then Heraka will not try again to make you see the truth. What is your name?" "Clarke, William Clarke." "Why have you come to the land of the Dakotas?" "Not to take it. Not to kill the buffalo. Not to drive away any of your people." "But you are captured upon it. The great chief, Mahpeyalute, warned the American captain and the soldiers that they must not let the white people come any farther." "That is true. I was there, and I heard Red Cloud give the warning." "And yet you came against the threat of Mahpeyalute." "Mine was an errand of a nature almost sacred. I tell you again there was no harm in it to your country and your people." "Many times have the white people told to the Dakotas things that were lies." "It is true, but the sins of others are not mine." Will spoke with all his heart in his words. Despite the terrible disaster that had befallen, even if the chief's words were true, and all his friends were dead, he wished, nevertheless, to live. He was young, strong, of great vitality, and nothing could crush the love of life in him. "What do you intend to do with me?" he asked. Heraka smiled, but the smile contained nothing of gentleness or mercy, rather it was amusement at the anxiety of one who was wholly in his power. "Your fate shall not be known to you until it comes," he said. Will felt a chill running down his spine. It was the primal instinct to torture and slay the enemy and the Sioux lived up to it. It was keen torture already to hear that his fate would surely come, but not to know how or where or when was worse. But it appeared that it was not to come at once, and with that thought he felt the thrill of hope. His was unquenchable youth and the vital spark in him flamed up. "Would you mind untying my ankles?" he said. "You can save your torture for later on."