Black Elk’s grave was no different, except for a large, hand-painted sign that had been planted over it, so that people like me could see where it was without searching for it. When I reached it I said a little prayer of thanks, then took out my Rosary beads and prayed the five decades of the Sorrowful Mysteries, because it happened to be a Tuesday, which is one of the two days of the week that we pray those particular Mysteries, the other day being Friday. That took me about twenty-five minutes.