Maká'pato'si suddenly pushed back his chair and, rising up to his feet, paced toward the long trading table. Huddling over, he conferred with the proprietor of the post, Mitchell. The two men spoke to each other, their voices no more than a whisper.
Meanwhile, Gray Falcon raised his hand, signaled Strikes Fast and, bellowing out his words, said, "You! Warrior! Come here! You shall play with me instead of the pale-faced coward! Let me empty my bags of the gold I have brought with me so you know for what you play."
Gray Falcon set out a pile of gold coins, as well as the jewelry a number of Pikuni women had given him in camp. There was also his borrowed gold watch, his rings and even a golden chain around his neck. It looked as though he had acquired a gold mine, so numerous were the pieces he presented.
However, unbeknownst to any of the white men, Gray Falcon had earlier counseled withIkimopii-sap-soksistsikó,Chief Sits-in-the-cloud of the Pikuni band, asking for at least ten Blackfoot warriors to be present at the game. When the chief had queried him about why this game was necessary, Gray Falcon had explained what was at stake, going into detail about the need to release his wife and her parents, as well Eagle Heart's wife, from the ill-gained clutches of the evil one, the man they called Maká'pato'si.
That the chief had volunteered to add as much gold as he had in his possession—in coins, in rings and other jewelry—had started an avalanche of many others in the camp coming forward, offering their own gold, one piece at a time, until Gray Falcon had accumulated as much gold as a white man's chest might hold.
In answer to Gray Falcon's challenge, Strikes Fast stepped toward the gaming table while Gray Falcon casually placed one treasured trinket after another on the table. This method of luring Maká'pato'si into the game ofCos-soóhad been a part of his vision, given to him while he had been in prayer.And, having been shown this by the Creator, Gray Falcon remained steadfast in the knowledge that the evil one would take the bait.
"Hold up, there," said Maká'pato'si. "I have not said I will not play the game ofCos-soówith you. I merely wished to have a drink before we commence the game." With this said, the evil one held up a small cup of something liquid and, his look casually wicked, took a deep swig of it.
Gray Falcon grinned. And, so it began.
