He then directed his course toward the Ricaree village. When he approached it, he loitered about the wigwam of his destined victim, and, looking through the chinks, observed him smoking his last pipe. He saw him retire to bed. The village was silent, and wrapt in darkness. He now crept softly into the lodge, and seated himself by the fire, where he satisfied his appetite from the contents of a pot hanging over it; he then lighted his pipe, after which, stirring up the embers until he clearly saw his way, with lance in hand, he rose and drove it through the body of his enemy. Snatching his scalp from his head, he now darted from the lodge, and hurried across the prairie. The whole village was roused, but no one knew who had dealt the blow. He ran all night, and lay by during the day. On the sixth morning, at sunrise, he entered his village, showing the blood of his victim dried upon his spear, over that of his brother, while the scalp was suspended from the handle of the weapon.
On a certain occasion, a band of one hundred and fifty Chien warriors made an assault on the Mandan village at early dawn, drove off a number of horses, and took one scalp. Mah-to-toh-pa, though a young man, yet, as one of the most valiant of his tribe, pursued with a party of fifty. About noon of the second day, they came in sight of the enemy. Finding them more numerous than was imagined, the Mandans were about to return, when their young leader galloped out in front, and, after wheeling in a circuit, plunged his lance into the ground. The blade was driven up to the hilt. He then made another circuit, tore from his breast his red sash, and hung it on the lance as a flag. He now called out to the retreating Mandans, “What! have we come to this? Have we dogged the enemy three days, and found them, now to go back like cowards? Mah-to-toh-pa’s lance, which is red with the blood of brave men, has led you to the sight of your enemy; it now stands firm in the ground, where the earth will drink its owner’s blood; you may all go back, and Mah-to-toh-pa will fight these warriors alone.”
The Chiens had now turned back to give the Mandans battle, and their leader, admiring the gallant conduct of Mah-lo-toh-pa, galloped forward within hailing distance, and demanded who it was that had thus stuck down his lance, and alone defied his enemies? The answer was, “I am Mah-to-toh-pa, the second in command of the brave and valiant Mandans!” The Chien chief then said, “I have heard often of Mah-to-toh-pa; he is a great warrior. Dares he come forward and fight with me alone, while our warriors look on?” “Is he a chief who speaks to Mah-to-toh-pa?“ was the reply. The Chien answered, “My scalps you see hanging to my horse’s bits; and here is my lance, with the ermine-skins and the war-eagle’s tail.” “It is enough,” said Mah-to-toh-pa.