midnight
The Lance done creeps over in the night an ' ties a hossha ' r tight about the pony 's laig jest above the fetlock . Black Cloud ai n't up to no sech move , the same bein ' a trade secret of the Lance 's an ' bein ' the hossha ' r is hid in the ha ' r on the pony 's laig , no one notes its presence . `` After Black Cloud looks his red-eyed big medicine pony all over an ' ca n't onderstand its lameness , the Lance asks him will he cure it . Black Cloud , who 's sc ` owlin ' like midnight by now , retorts that he will . So he gets his pipe an ' fills it with medicine tobacco an ' blows a mouthful of smoke in the red-eyed pony 's nose . Sech remedies do n't work ; that pony still limps on three laigs , draggin ' the afflicted member mighty pensive . `` At last the Lance gives Black Cloud a patronisin ' smile an ' says that his medicine 'll cure the pony sound an ' well while you 're crackin ' off a gun .