“Go forth--if you can!” had been Honanta’s last words. In them Sid found his sole hope. Honanta was still his friend, but the logic of the situation had been too strong even for him. But Honanta was more than his friend. It was true, then, that Colonel Colvin was that white officer! Honanta had said so at last. Through his father he owed a debt that to an Indian is never paid. Honanta, too, was torn between two duties--that to his tribe and that to Sid as the Colonel’s son. In the subtle workings of the Indian mind there would surely be a loophole for him, somewhere, by Honanta, Sid felt. It was for him to find and utilize that loophole of escape. It would be something that would clear Honanta’s conscience as regards his tribe, yet fulfill his obligation to him as the son of the man who had saved his life. What it would be, Sid could not imagine. He decided to keep his eyes open to-morrow, alert to seize the opportunity whatever it should be. Then, with the ability of youth to sleep anywhere and in any impossible posture, his head fell forward on his chest and he was soon oblivious of his and any one else’s troubles. Next morning as he was led from the lodge, a notable change in the village greeted him. A high Sun Dance pole had been erected during the night, with a cross bar secured near its top. From the bar dangled two effigies; the figure of a man and of a mountain sheep. Sid recognized the symbol of it. The figure represented Honanta, dead but for the intervention of the Great Mystery in the person of that white officer who had spared his mother. The mountain sheep represented man’s physical life, his principal means of sustenance, the gift of Mother Earth, replacing the buffalo of plains ceremonies. After a time Honanta appeared, nude save for his moccasins and breech clout; his hair was disheveled, his body daubed with clay. He dragged after him the skull of a mountain sheep, symbolizing the grave from which he had escaped by divine intervention. As the eastern sun flamed over the wall of Red Mesa, an old priest cut and scarified Honanta’s chest, signifying the natural accompaniments of a physical death. The rest of the tribe now formed in a line under the east wall and faced him. Sid himself was placed opposite Honanta, standing alone. He felt awed at the part he was taking--for he obviously represented the instrument through which the Great Mystery had shown His favor. Looking with fixed eyes on the sun, Honanta began the Sun Dance, dragging the skull after him and blowing from time to time on a sacred whistle which he kept pointed at the sun as it rose toward the zenith.