The man is as ugly as he is wicked.
Gray Falcon did little more than stare, gathering as much information as he could from a simple look. Maká'pato'si, the evil one, was a middle-aged trader; he was also balding and hunched in his shoulders. His nose was big and crooked for such a scrawny man, and he rubbed his hands together in a way that reminded Gray Falcon of witchery.
The man wore the pale-faced style of brownish trousers, a white shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a coat with mere armholes cut into the fabric and no sleeves. There was a black piece of cloth tied around his neck, and his shoes looked to be made of leather, although there was a grayish cloth positioned halfway over each of them.
And, although his clothing was not torn nor dirty, the evil one yet looked disheveled—as though the Creator had given up on him long ago. And, although the white man had disarmed Gray Falcon of his ability to defend himself, there was a flintlock in the evil one's hand; it was also primed and ready to shoot.
Gray Falcon smiled at the man he called Maká'pato'si, the evil-spirited one, who brought the scent of his unwashed flesh with him. Asked Gray Falcon, "Do you wish to gamble with me? This gold I have for…? If so, what have to you offer me? A buffalo robe, perhaps? A good and sturdy horse? A gun? A knife?"
"That and more, my friend," answered Maká'pato'si. "That and more. Yes, I'll gamble with you. Here, we'll pull out a table so we can play a quiet game." Grabbing hold of the only table in the room, the evil one positioned it in the center of the trading room and placed two chairs so they faced each other across the table. "We'll sit," said Maká'pato'si, "and we'll have ourselves a game of chance. What game shall it be? Poker?"
"Poker?" Gray Falcon snickered. "A game only for silly white men. No, if I am to gamble, I would play a warrior's game:Cos-soó,a contest betweenmen, where a warrior either wins every possession his opponent has or he loses everything. Do you dare to play it?" asked Gray Falcon.
"Cos-soó?" asked Maká'pato'si.
"Áa,Cos-soó. It is not a game for a man who is a coward." He paused, his glance at the evil one deliberately demeaning. "Tell me, are you man enough to play it?"
"I'm man enough," answered Maká'pato'si. "I'll play you a game of poker, instead."
Gray Falcon spit, his look contemptuous. "You are a white man and a weak one who is afraid to play a man's game. What are you afraid of? That it might be fair? Are you like most white men and play only when the odds favor you?"
"You dare much, Injun, speaking to me this way."
"I dare more." Gray Falcon's look was contemptuous. "But, there is good reason for you to refuse to play. Only warriors of esteem dare to play it." The implication was unstated, but understood.
"Why, you arrogant, worthless Injun. Why, you're no more than a boy who can talk up a storm, but who can't put out."
"I am no youngster," stated Gray Falcon. "I can beat you, and you know it. You, like a woman, are scared. Shall I put you in a dress?" He turned toward Strikes Fast. "Come, friend. This white man is yellow. I shall play with you, and perhaps I shall win many trinkets for my wife while I gamble this worthless gold."
"Wait!" The evil one had spun around and was stepping toward the trading counter when Gray Falcon spoke, but at the reminder of the gold as stake in the game, he turned back toward Gray Falcon. Grinning, yet with only malice within his eyes, he appeared to have a second thought, and he said, "Now that you mention it, Injun, I have heard of the game. Now, you say you are going to bet all these pieces of gold?"
"I have said it."
Maká'pato'si's glance exuded hatred, but in a congenial voice, he said, "Tell me the rules of this game, and then I'll decide if I play with you or not."
"Very well.Soka'pii.I will tell you the rules, but I think it will do little good. You, like a slimy snake, have not enough courage to play it. Yet, I will tell you the rules."
"Curb your tongue, Injun, when you speak to me."
Gray Falcon merely smiled, then began, "The game of Cos-soóis a simple but deadly game. Now, many warriors call it the 'game of the bowl,' but most call it merely, Cos-soó." Gray Falcon reached into the bag on his shoulder and brought out a circular wooden bowl with a flat bottom. The bowl was about a foot in diameter, and its rounded sides were perhaps two inches in height and were glued in place.
"These are the objects played with in the game," uttered Gray Falcon as he held up the first and most important piece to be played. It was a single large claw which was red on one side and black on the other. He continued and said, "There is only one large claw. If it stands up on the throw, it counts as twenty-five, but only for five if on its side. And these four smaller crow claws"—he gathered up the claws and held them up for inspection—"are painted red on one side, as you can see, and black on the other. If the black side is up on the throw, it counts for nothing. If the red side is up, it counts as four each. Do you have any questions?"
The evil one shook his head.
"I shall continue, then," said Gray Falcon, and he set out five plum stones. He turned the stones over and over, showing the evil one both sides. "As you can see," Gray Falcon muttered, "both sides of the plum stones have been smoothed out, and one side is painted black, the other side is white. Black side up on a throw is four points, and white side up is nothing."
Maká'pato'si frowned, but said naught.
Gray Falcon continued. "Here are five pieces of blue china and are chiseled until they are round, as you can see. One side is blue, and the other side is white. Blue side up on the throw counts for three; white side up counts nothing."
He next set out five trade buttons. "The button's eye side up is two points; smooth side up counts nothing. And, here is the last: five brass tacks. When the side is up that curves inward, this counts one. If the side is up that pushes outward, it counts nothing. Also, in this game, I keep your score and you keep mine using these sticks." He set out a hundred or more sticks upon the table.
"The one who gets the most points in a turn wins the turn; all that was bet by his opponent is now his. But, the game is not over yet, because it is played until one of us is brought down utterly, and the loser, having bet everything he owns, is now destitute. You may not wish to play it for this reason. Sometimes the game goes on for days, allowing the players to break only to eat. But, a word of warning: once begun, the game continues until its awful finish. There is a strict rule in the game: there is no running away."
Maká'pato'si was frowning, and a deep groove had formed between his brows.
"However," Gray Falcon added contemptuously, "you will not wish to play it, I think. Only a strong man—one of great renown—is man enough to attempt it. I will ask one of these experienced warriors to play with me instead of you, since they are unafraid of the consequences." Gray Falcon's grin at the man was deliberately condescending.
