"Then I know that my father will go to my people. His head is grey,
and his words will not be blown away with the smoke. Let him get on my
lodge, and call the name of Hard-Heart aloud. No Pawnee will be deaf.
Then let my father ask for the colt, that has never been ridden, but
which is sleeker than the buck, and swifter than the elk."
"I understand you, boy, I understand you," interrupted the attentive
old man; "and what you say shall be done, ay, and well done too, or
I'm but little skilled in the wishes of a dying Indian."
"And when my young men have given my father the halter of that colt,
he will lead him by a crooked path to the grave of Hard-Heart?"
"Will I! ay, that I will, brave youth, though the winter covers these
plains in banks of snow, and the sun is hidden as much by day as by
night. To the head of the holy spot will I lead the beast, and place
him with his eyes looking towards the setting sun."
"And my father will speak to him, and tell him, that the master, who
has fed him since he was foaled, has now need of him.
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