"I made that to make the Lance strong again."
"Then that is why my medicine did not cure him last night," sternly cried Bridger. "Burn or throw away that last medicine, or I will let the man die. Take the war-path and get a new name by killing Blackfeet, but stop opening your medicine-bag toward the Lance, or I will tell the Indians of your nation that you killed the Lance."
"My medicine wanted to help," muttered Gauche. "If it will not work with your medicine I will burn it."
He rose and, bending over the fire, secretly opened a skin pouch and reluctantly allowed the contents to drop into the flames. The whites caught the odor of burning feathers. Rising, Gauche asked:
"Now, when will the Water Spirit leave him?"
"Very soon. Some time before the sun goes down," assured Bridger.
