I had no more than told my uncle and Tsistsaki briefly of our ride in quest of the Pikuni and listened to a short account of their trials with the thirst-crazed engagés when in the gathering dusk White Wolf and Heavy Runner and the other chiefs came up to us. They all knew the old Mandans and affectionately greeted them. Tsistsaki ran to her brother, White Wolf, and embraced him and cried a little with joy at seeing him again. We then all turned to the stockade, and my uncle called out to the Twins, "Josh, Lem, let those rascals go now! If they waterlog themselves it will not be my funeral!" They made a wild onset upon the bucket of water that the Twins were guarding, upset it, and with strange, wild cries leaped the barricade and rushed to the river. They were just animals, those old-time French Creole engagés! Perhaps it would be better and a little nearer the truth to say that they were just irresponsible children of man's size. Tsistsaki started a little fire in our lodge; then we all gathered in it. Outside the women were employing every pot in camp to cook meat and boil coffee for our guests. We had to provide for the chiefs and a few of the head warriors only; the others were gathering about fires of their own in the grove, and would have no food until they could kill some meat in the morning. My uncle regretted that we had nothing except coffee to send down to them. "It doesn't matter," Heavy Runner told him. "They are so happy over what they have done to the cut-throats that they are not thinking about food." Presently Pitamakan came in, much excited. "Here is news for you, chiefs!" he said. "We have counted forty-one dead, and of that number only seven are cut-throats; the rest are Parted Hairs!" (Kai-spa: Parted Hair: the Yanktonnais Sioux.) "Ha! That accounts for it!" White Wolf exclaimed. "Your message, Far Thunder, was that we were to help you fight the cut-throats who would come from their far north river; therefore we did not hurry, since we had only half as long a trail to travel." "That was the word I sent you. I could not know that instead of going back to their people for help to wipe us out, Sliding Beaver's war party would turn to the nearest Parted Hairs," my uncle answered. Heavy Runner laughed. "All they had to do was to tell the Parted Hairs that you had your Is-spai-u horse here, and they came running." "And their shadows, ha! How many of them are now on the dreary trail to shadow land!" some one exclaimed. "There must be a hundred, perhaps two hundred, dead in the river; and of us but two are dead and three wounded!" said Pitamakan.