“My brother is too far on the road alone,"[1] cried another relation, and he jumped out and fought, too.  What use, one against so many?  The Snakes soon had his scalp.

[Footnote 1:  Meaning that his brother’s spirit, or shadow, was travelling alone the road to the Sand Hills, and that he must overtake him.]

So they went out, one after another, and at last the husband was alone.  He rushed out very brave, and shot his arrows as fast as he could.  “Hold!” cried the Snake man to his people.  “Do not kill him; catch him.  This is the one my wife said to bring back alive.  See! his hair is cut short.”  So, when the man had shot away all his arrows, they seized and tied him, and, taking the scalps of the others, returned to camp.

They took the prisoner into the lodge where his wife was.  His hands were tied behind his back, and they tied his feet, too.  He could not move.

As soon as the man saw his wife, he cried.  He was not afraid.  He did not care now how soon he died.  He cried because he was thinking of all the trouble and death this woman had caused.  “What have I done to you,” he asked his wife, “that you should treat me this way?  Did I not always use you well?  I never struck you.  I never made you work hard.”

“What does he say?” asked the Snake man.

“He says,” replied the woman, “that when you are done smoking, you must knock the ashes and fire out of your pipe on his breast.”

The Snake was not a bad-hearted man, but he thought now that this woman had strong medicine, that she had Sun power; so he thought that everything must be done as she said.  When the man had finished smoking, he emptied the pipe on the Piegan’s breast, and the fire burned him badly.

Then the poor man cried again, not from the pain, but to think what a bad heart this woman had.  Again he spoke to her.  “You cannot be a person,” he said.  “I think you are some fearful animal, changed to look like a woman.”

“What is he saying now?” asked the Snake.

“He wants some boiling water poured on his head,” replied the woman.

“It shall be as he says,” said the Snake; and he had his women heat some water.  When it was ready, one of them poured a little of it here and there on the captive’s head and shoulders.  Wherever the hot water touched, the hair came out and the skin peeled off.  The pain was so bad that the Piegan nearly fainted.  When he revived, he said to his wife:  “Pity me.  I have suffered enough.  Let them kill me now.  Let me hurry to join those who are already travelling to the Sand Hills.”

The woman turned to the Snake chief, and said, “The man says that he wants you to give him to the Sun.”

“It is good,” said the Snake.  “To-morrow we move camp.  Before we leave here, we will give him to the Sun.”