“Ai!--We shall see!” exclaimed the qcali, significantly. He waved his arm for the final ceremony to begin, and then took up the legend of Dsilyi again, telling of his final defeat of the Utes. Once more Niltci’s band came charging in, this time beating each other on the backs with flaming torches, signifying the utter rout of the Utes by Dsilyi. Round and round the scorching inclosure they raced. The smell of singed hair and scorched flesh told that many a blanket would hide a sore back next morning! In the middle of the third round, Niltci, who was belaboring the youth in front of him with the eagerness of despair, tripped over a root and fell sprawling on the ground. Instantly the whole tribe rose as one man and swarmed over him. That last omen had been more than enough to damn him! Twenty hands grabbed for the poor unfortunate, while the boys shoved their way into the throng, eager to be of some help, yet not knowing what to do in the present fanatical mood of the Indians. Colonel Colvin beckoned vigorously for them to stand aside and keep out of it. Niltci was dragged to his feet and hustled, amid the yelling of angry voices, to the nearest tree. Big John pranced over with a six-gun in each hand, about to wade into the whole crowd, regardless, but the Colonel grabbed him and forced his guns down. For the present there seemed no immediate danger, for buckskin thongs were being passed around Niltci instead of the rope which the cowman had usually seen produced by a frenzied mob. Then the Indians stood aside, waiting the judgment of the qcali. The latter stalked forward and began a long harangue. He seemed urging Niltci to confess, but the boy shook his head, his eyes piteous with injured innocence, his face looking at them terrified over the fearful predicament into which the superstition of the Black Panther had brought him. “What does he say, Neyani?” demanded Colonel Colvin. “The white men do not understand this at all!” Neyani shrugged his shoulders. He was through with his renegade son, it was quite evident. His interest was merely that for some criminal. “Perhaps a man in the desert lies dead because of him; perhaps some girl she lives dishonored by him. Who knows? For that Dsilyi his Black Panther sends. But the sun god, he tell,” he remarked, stolidly. “What do you mean?” asked the Colonel, quickly. “To-morrow he must look at the sun god till he tell. No good!” explained Neyani, coolly. As the qcali finished, a group of young braves stepped forward and bound Niltci so that he faced to the east. Then a fork was secured about his head, the purpose evidently being for someone to hold it so that the poor youth would have to face the desert sun until its torture forced him to tell something or invent a confession if he had none.