He climbed back up the rope to await the following night.

When the darkness came over the land he called his men together, and told them of his plan for escape, and they all crawled to the edge where the perforation in the brule rocks made the well. One by one they went down the rope, and crawled out through the hole at the bottom and away in the darkness. And the last to go was the young chief.

If you will go to the top of Court House Rock any night, even to this time, you can feel the presence of Ti-wa-ra, and if you will listen after the shadows of night have fallen, you can hear the Sioux watchers moving about at the base, waiting for the Pawnees to come down, and you can hear them as they pass one another in the darkness, whispering-whispering-whispering.

THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE HAWK -- OLD BULL TAIL'S DAUGHTER

Some years ago I met Col. W. F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," at Washington. We were talking of Indian mythology and he told me this story which he said was sometimes told of the Chadron Plains, sometimes of the valley north and east of Scotts Bluff mountain, and sometimes of the high divide known as the Flowerfield Swell.

Algon, a Sioux hunter, had chased a deer out upon the prairie, until its trail led to a circle where all the grass was trodden down, but from the circle never a trail led on.