About midnight the guard noticed something crawling
along close to the ground, and seizing him found it was Unktomi
trying to make his escape before daylight, whereupon they tied him
to a tree. "Why do you treat me thus," cried Unktomi, "I was just
going out in search of medicine to rub on my arrows, so I can kill
the witches." "You will need medicine to rub on yourself when the
chief gets through with you," said the young man who had
discovered that Unktomi was impersonating White Plume.
In the morning the herald announced that the real White Plume had
arrived, and the chief desired the whole nation to witness his
marksmanship. Then came the cry: "The White Buffalo comes."
Taking his red arrow, White Plume stood ready. When the buffalo
got about opposite him, he let his arrow fly. The buffalo bounded
high in the air and came down with all four feet drawn together
under its body, the red arrow having passed clear through the
animal, piercing the buffalo's heart. A loud cheer went up from
the village.
"You shall use the hide for your bed," said the chief to White
Plume. Next came a cry, "the eagle, the eagle." From the north
came an enormous red eagle. So strong was he, that as he soared
through the air his wings made a humming sound as the rumble of
distant thunder. On he came, and just as he circled the tent of
the chief, White Plume bent his bow, with all his strength drew the
arrow back to the flint point, and sent the blue arrow on its
mission of death.
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