He followed the directions, and on the morrow he returned, and found his old dun horse and a beautiful white gelding. This he took to the village and it was better than the horses ridden by other Pawnee braves. The next tomorrow, he rode home a coal black steed, and so each succeeding day he rode another horse of another color into the village, grey, roan, pinto, bay, etc., and each was finer than the ponies ridden by other braves.

Now, he was rich, and the chief, reminded of his pledge gave him his beautiful daughter, and the young brave spread out before her, as a tribute to his affection, the Spotted Robe.

The old dun horse was then brought to the village, and well taken care of for the rest of his days. And for many years the Pawnees claimed the beautiful land.

It was about the time of the building of the first stockades at Fort Laramie, that the Sioux began again to crowd down upon the Pawnees in the valley of the North Platte. And at the same time our young brave met with the great common sorrow of the world. Death entered his domestic household and took therefrom his little son, and when he laid him away, swinging on the limb of a cottonwood tree, they rolled his body in the Spotted Robe. Then the old dun horse died, and disasters fell thick and fast upon the Pawnees.

The Sioux made it so uncomfortable that the Pawnees decided to retire some distance down the river, having no particular objective, and to cover their retreat, they left a number of the braves to keep the Sioux engaged while the main village was moving. And these were attacked by the Sioux with such fierceness of purpose that they were driven to the top of Court House Rock for refuge.