And the two men met. He with the arrow in his back arose with a groan from the sand and growled as the other approached and dismounted. They seemed as two who had met and parted enemies. They seized each other and rolled upon the sand. The coyote whined, the crows cawed, but the hawk only watched. But all the while the ponies neighed. And the sting of the arrow weakened one, but he fought like a bear. He made a good fight. But the other fixed his hands upon his enemy’s throat until the silent places were filled with a gurgling and a rasping of breath that came hard. Then there was only silence. The coyote ran away, the crows and the hawk flew. The ponies alone watched now. And the man whose pony was not spotted arose and laughed very loud—only it was not the laugh of a glad man. Then the man who laughed stripped off the garments of the other and put them upon himself. Then he built a fire and lit his pipe and made _choobay_ smoke. Then he spoke to the various _wakundas_ that were somewhere there in the silence. “I have killed my enemy. I will burn his heart and give you the ashes, O Grandfathers!” The crows heard this, for they had come back looking for their feast. And the man burned the heart of his enemy and scattered the ashes, singing a brave song all the while. He had learned to do this from the Kansas; it is their custom. Then the man got on the spotted pony and rode away, bearing with him the weapons of the man who stayed. And when he was gone the crows and the coyote came and made harsh noises at each other, for each was hungry, and there was a feast spread there upon the sand. * * * * * And it happened that evening, they say, that one rode into the Ponca camp and went to the tepee where Sun Eyes, the Omaha woman, waited for someone. The man who came had his whole face hidden with a piece of buckskin, having eye and mouth holes in it. And Sun Eyes was cooking over a fire before her tepee. “Ho, Mad Buffalo!” she said; “you have not found the bison. Why have you hidden your face?” “I found no bison,” said the man, “but I saw something in the hills which caused me to hide my face.” And Sun Eyes looked keenly at the man, for she thought it was some _wakunda_ he had seen. “Why do you speak in a strange voice?” said she; and she trembled as she said it. “He who has seen something is never the same again!” said he. And while the woman wondered the two ate together. And as the man ate he laughed very pleasantly at times like a man who is very glad. “Why do you laugh, Mad Buffalo?” said the woman. “Because I was very hungry for something, and I have it now,” said the man. And when he had ceased eating he sang glad songs, and again the woman questioned. “I sing because of what I saw in the hills,” said he. And this seemed very strange to the woman. But it is not allowed that one should question a man who has seen a _wakunda_.