6 Warankxi

Will repaired his legging with needle and bone and thread of sinew, before he went to sleep, and he was devoutly glad of the quarter inch of space that had saved his leg from the hoof of the moose. He was an adept at the work, and Roka watched him with an approving eye as he handled bone and sinew with skill and speed.

“He is a true Dakota now,” the leader said in an aside to Pehansan.

“But the day will come when his own people will call to him,” said the tall warrior. “We are what we are born. If you and I, Roka, were placed among white men, no matter how well we might like them, no matter how much they might like us, we would see some time or other, though thousands of miles away, the tall tepees of the Sioux, and we would hear the thunder of the buffalo herds on the endless plains. Then we would have to go.”

“It is the truth, Pehansan. Yet Waditaka is ours on the great journey, as much as Inmu, or Hoton, or the others. Nor will the time ever come, when he will be willing to raise a hand against any of the people of Xingudan’s village.”

“It is as you say, Roka. Though the Dakota and the white men be at war, Waditaka would never let fly an arrow at you, or me, or any of his comrades.”

Will completed his repairs, and Hoton, at the same time, finished his dramatic tale of the way in which the myriads of buffalos were continually renewed. Then Roka commanded them to build the fire higher, and, as usual, he posted guards of two in relays. He also gave orders the next day that no man was to leave the camp or the band on the march alone. It was evident that besides the dangers of which they knew, there were dangers yet unknown to be dreaded, and he would not risk the loss through carelessness of a single one of his warriors. Roka was not only proud of his young men, for every one of whom he entertained a strong affection, but he felt that it would be a great feat if they could make the mighty journey, and he could bring them all back alive and well to the village of Xingudan.

A peaceful night was granted to them, and they resumed the advance the next morning, coming to a limited stretch of open country, much like a prairie, free from all kinds of tree growth, except little clumps of bushes here and there. It was not more than three or four miles across, the great forest rising again at the far edge, and beyond that the line of mighty mountains, blue on the slopes, and white at the crests with eternal snow.

The prairie itself was rich in sylvan beauty. Under the warm airs that had been floating up many days from the south the grass had grown high and its first delicate green was turning to a deeper hue, but its grassy surface was thickly sown with vivid wild flowers of varied colors. Down the center flowed a creek of deep green fed, like all the streams of that region, by melting snows. On its edge were some low vines bearing early berries which the young warriors ate with great delight, the berries forming a pleasant variation from their perpetual diet of game. The whole prairie was filled with splendid golden sunshine, in which the ten reveled.

“I think,” said Roka, “that this prairie opens out in the great forest as a breathing place.”

“Or maybe,” said Pehansan, “it was put here by Manitou that we might stop a while and see the sky without any boughs between. The mighty forest is magnificent and noble and we admire it, but there comes a time when we wish to gaze up at the unbroken blue.”

They built their fire near the creek and Capa and Tatokadan shot a deer less than half a mile away, a task they found uncommonly easy, as the game was almost tame, showing conclusively that man had been a stranger there. In truth, the prairie fairly swarmed with the different kinds of the deer tribe, ordinary deer, mule deer, and several gigantic elk. They also saw a small herd of the plains buffalo, grazing quietly near the northern end of the open ground, and Roka and Pehansan had no doubt that on the slopes toward which they were advancing they would find the gigantic wood bison. Wolves of the smaller kind were hanging on the fringes of the buffalo herd, but they saw none of the great timber wolves, their tenacious foes.

“Nothing can happen to us here,” said Will, as they sat by the fire and ate their deer, sauced with berries. “It is too peaceful and beautiful. Listen to the birds. They didn’t sing in the great forest, but they have plenty of voice now.”

Although it was twilight the birds darted in little flashes of blue or gray from one clump of bushes to another and from full throats poured forth their joy. Will found their music uncommonly soothing, and it confirmed him in his opinion that here, in truth, was a place of rest.

“Inmu,” he said, “you’ve interpreted for me the talk of the wild animals, now can you also tell me what the birds are saying?”

“No, Waditaka,” replied the Lynx, “I cannot; they merely chatter and trill and their chattering and trilling is without meaning.”

“It’s just chattering and trilling to you, Inmu, because, while you understand the animals, it is evident that you don’t understand the birds. Now, while I don’t understand the animals I do understand the birds. Each to his own gift!”

“I do not dispute it, Waditaka. What, then, are the birds saying?”

“The gray one in the bush to our right, who is trilling with such vigor and enthusiasm, says to his comrades: ‘Look! Look, my friends! Behold the men who have come into our land! They build a great fire and sit beside it! They have sharp arrows, but the arrows are not for us! The men are our friends! They like us! They like to hear our songs! They would not harm us! Their sharp arrows are for the bears and wolves!”

“Very good, Waditaka,” said the wise Roka. “That, no doubt, is what the gray bird is saying.”

“But the green one in the bush on the other side of the fire is singing a different song,” said Hoton.

“How do you know, O Crow?” asked Roka.

“Because I, too, can understand the words of the birds,” replied Hoton, “and I have been listening especially to the words of the green one, since they are much more important than those of his gray comrade.”

“Then what song of so much importance is the green bird singing, my Hoton?”

“He is saying over again the same great truth that he said just now. Listen! Here go the words: ‘Who is the tall young warrior sitting between Waditaka and Inmu? Do you ask me that, O my comrades? Behold how handsome and strong he is! Look at his lofty head, his fearless gaze, his noble manner! If you could gaze into his eyes you would see them filled with truth and honesty and courage! Know you that he would face twenty hostile warriors, alone and unafraid! There is none so wise, so brave and so just as he, save, perhaps, the wise Roka! And then you ask me, my comrades, who he is! Why do you ask me? I am ashamed of you, my comrades, for asking such a question! His fame has spread all over the world! That is the matchless young warrior, the pride of the whole Dakota nation, the flower of the Indian race, the famous warrior, the invincible Hoton! Listen to that renowned name, and never forget it again!’ Now they all sing together, the gray ones, the blue ones, the brown ones and the green ones: ‘Hoton! Hoton! Hoton! Hoton the Strong! Hoton the Wise! Hoton the Brave! Hoton the Swift! Hoton the Great Hunter! Hoton the Mighty Warrior! Hoton! Hoton! Hoton!’ Ah, it is surely a grand, beautiful and true song!”

They listened to him with admiration, and, after the silence, save for the singing of the birds, that followed, the wise Roka said solemnly:

“Hoton, great are your gifts. The words that you take from the bird’s mouth may be as you tell them to us, because none of us can say that they are not. But, Hoton, when you are an old man and you die, and you are buried in your grave with your pony, and you rise up a warrior again and go off to the great hunting grounds, Manitou will say to those about him: ‘Here comes Hoton! Put him where the deer are largest and thickest, because if you do not he will talk to me so much that I shall have no time to receive the other warriors who are always coming in a stream.’”

“And it will be a just reward for me,” said the indomitable Hoton.

“And now, my youths, to your blankets,” said Roka, “for at dawn we start again on the great journey.”

All of them awoke when the sky began to brighten in the east, and Hoton and Capa went down to the edge of the creek to gather for their breakfast some of the early berries which afforded such a grateful relief, while Will and Inmu began to build the fire anew, the others helping with different tasks. Will was bent over the coals, blowing them into new flame, when he was startled by a roar, so fierce and savage that it made his blood quiver. The roar was followed instantly by a cry, a cry wrenched from a human being by mortal pain.

Will straightened up, instinctively seized his bow and quiver, and turned toward the creek whence the sounds had come. He saw one of the great bears of the north, hideous and monstrous, reared up and crushing Capa between his forelegs. The bow and quiver of the young warrior had dropped to the ground, and he seemed lifeless. But Hoton, the talker, Hoton the boaster, Hoton the valiant and faithful, stood a bare ten feet away, and he was sending arrow after arrow like shafts of lightning straight into the throat of the monster.

The grip of the bear was about to close, and he was also reaching down his tremendous fangs for a bite which would fairly take off the head of the young Dakota, when Hoton, shouting fiercely, ran in and smote him with all his might across the mouth with his bow. The bear dropped Capa, who fell senseless to the ground, and struck a mighty blow at Hoton with one paw. Well it was for the valiant boaster that he wore a thick and padded fur cap and that he was so close in, as the heel of the paw struck him on the head, but the claws, projecting like spikes of steel and as deadly, went beyond.

Hoton fell, as if he had been shot, squarely across Capa, and the bear, roaring with rage, struck blindly into the air with his terrible spiked paws. Then he turned to grope for his fallen foes, but the delay of a few moments had saved them from being torn to pieces.

The valiant Dakotas, Roka and Pehansan at their head, rushed forward and poured a stream of arrows into the bear, which was a terrible object, standing far higher than a man, shaft after shaft protruding from his body, striped now with red by his flowing blood. The warriors, shouting with all their might to divert his attention from their fallen comrades, attacked him in a half circle.

The bear whirled here and there to face his foes, who were stinging him in every part of his body with their fiery little darts. A crafty and cunning animal at most times, he was now quite mad with rage and pain. He also had been down among the vines at the creek’s brink, eating the berries which were so delicious to his taste, when the two insignificant creatures, walking on two legs, came there in search of the same savor, and almost ran into him. He had never seen man before, and having grown up the unchallenged monarch of the wilderness, feeling prodigious strength in every ounce of his vast body, and knowing his tremendous teeth and claws to be weapons unrivaled by any other, he had expected to sweep away without trouble the impertinent intruders upon his berry ground.

He had struck down the first two who came, though he had been stung often while doing it, but now he was faced by a swarm of the little creatures who sent their sharp darts into him from every side. He forgot all about the first two, and with eyes blinded by blood, he struck random blows at the swarm. He did not notice that they steadily drove him away from the two who lay on the ground, the one across the other, the tactics of the wise Roka, who did not forget, even in those wild moments, to protect the unconscious Hoton and Capa from a chance blow of that terrible paw.

The bear, after the manner of his kind, kept up a continuous growling and snarling as he fought his elusive foes. He was losing much blood but he felt no decline in his strength. His body was so vast and his hide so thick that no arrow had been able to inflict a mortal wound, and his vitality was so immense, unexcelled by that of any other animal in the world, that he believed he could wage the battle until he wore out his enemies, light and agile though they might be.

The rage of the bear mounted steadily. He had known nothing else to stand before him. The great bull moose, even in his anger, did not care for an encounter with that prodigious, hulking figure, and the fierce timber wolves, numerous though their pack might be, turned aside. But the new creatures, two of whom he had struck down so easily, danced before him, kept beyond the reach of his claws and teeth, and yet struck him from a distance. The pain from so many sharp darts increased, until it grew unbearable. Then, roaring his anger and dismay, he turned, and for the first time in his life ran, crashing through vines and bushes, leaving a red stream as his trail, fear tugging at his heart until it grew into panic and dismay.

He not only ran, but he ran as he had never run before. The speed of the huge body was amazing. It beat down bushes and vines, clove a way across the prairie and then into the forest, always hurried to new speed by the shouts behind, and the continuous stinging of the fiery little darts. In the dense forest the great bear disappeared, the pursuit ceased, and he sought some remote covert where he could lie, lick his bleeding wounds and think of revenge.

Roka had stopped his eager young warriors at the edge of the dense thickets. He knew that the bear might turn on them there, where they would be so hampered that they could not use their bows.

“We will not follow the bear into his hiding,” he said, “but stay here on the open prairie where we have the advantage. Like the big bull moose, he has carried away some of our arrows in his body, but it is better to lose our arrows than our lives. We will now return and see how much breath is left in the bodies of Hoton and Capa.”

The young warriors were eager to go into the forest and slay the bear at any risk, but they knew that Roka spoke words of wisdom. Moreover, they were anxious to look after their fallen comrades. As they returned to the scene of the battle’s beginning they uttered a delighted shout when they saw Hoton and Capa on their feet, but leaning against each other, the valiant two staggering forward to meet them.

“How now, O teller of tales and singer of songs, O boastful Hoton!” said Roka. “How did it happen that when the bear struck you on the head you did not strike him back as hard?”

“O, wise Roka,” replied the indomitable Hoton, “I did not strike him back because I did not wish to spoil sport. If I slew him then and there you and the others would have had no chance to take part in the hunt, and so, wise Roka, I held my hand.”

“A good reply, O brave boaster. Sometimes it is almost as well to be ready with words as with deeds, and I say to you, Hoton, in the presence of all, that you are ever ready with both. It was a gallant act to rush under the claws and teeth of the demon bear and save the life of your comrade, Capa. I have seen many valiant deeds but I have never in my life seen one more valiant, Hoton, the brave.”

For once Hoton, the boaster, was at a loss for words, and he merely said, from the depths of a grateful heart:

“I thank thee, Roka.”

Both Hoton and Capa needed repairs. The brave boaster’s head was still ringing from the glancing blow of the bear’s paw, and although he tried to hold himself erect the world reeled before him, and there were myriads of black specks before his eyes. Capa’s shoulder was torn and bleeding, and Roka and Pehansan set to work at once, bathing it carefully and binding it up. They also hunted among the bushes for herbs of which they knew, and made him a strong tea, a powerful decoction that soothed his nerves and induced sleep. Then they rolled him in his robe by the fire and bade him seek sleep, which he soon found.

“Now his wound will heal rapidly,” said Roka, “because he is young and pure of life, but the brain within the head of Hoton will ache for a day or two. One cannot stand beneath the stroke of a bear’s paw and go unharmed. It will be best for us to stay here until they are well.”

He was right about Hoton, as the valiant boaster endured severe pains in his head for a day and night, though he would make no complaint. But at the beginning of the second day they died down and by the end of it were gone entirely. Capa’s shoulder, as Roka predicted, healed rapidly, and he would have only the faint trace of a scar, which on occasion he could show proudly.

The others hunted a little on the prairie, and set snares at the edge of the creek for wild ducks, which they prized highly, but they were very cautious about the berry patches, never approaching them until they were quite sure that another one of those terrible lumbering forms was not hidden in the depths of the bushes. On the second morning after the battle they saw proof that a bear had been there again, as the bushes and vines were torn and trampled in a new place.

“I don’t think the one we fought could have come back,” said Will, “at least, not yet. Too many arrows were sticking in his body to allow a return visit so soon.”

“It must have been his mate,” said Pehansan. “Of course, he had a mate, and he told her about the berries and the fight. She wanted the berries so much that she overlooked the danger from us, and in the night came after them. Often, Waditaka, the she-bear is bolder and fiercer than the male.”

“She was truly bold, Pehansan, to come back here after the reception her mate got.”

It happened that Will and Pehansan were the very two who soon had proofs of the female bear’s savagery. They were hunting on the north side of the prairie, it being their fancy to secure a young doe, and jerk the tender flesh for their journey, when they chanced to come near the dense underbrush that grew here in the forest. The very doe they wanted was not more than a hundred yards away, and kneeling in the grass, which had now grown high, they were creeping forward for certain arrow range. But before they were within the required distance the she-bear, almost the equal of her mate in size, and doubtless his superior in ferocity, charged from the thickets with a mighty roar, and had covered half the distance to them before they could spring to their feet.

Will and Pehansan did not pause to fight. Their experience with the first bear had shown them that arrows sent by the mightiest arm might be of no avail, and bow in hand they took to flight toward the camp, now a full three miles away. Pehansan’s legs were very long, and they were as strong as if they were made of steel. Will was an uncommonly fleet runner, but never before had the two made such time as they now made across that little prairie, so green and spangled so beautifully with flowers of varied and vivid hues.

“Shall we turn and loose a few arrows at her?” gasped Will.

“Not now,” replied Pehansan in the same strained tones. “They would but sting her into greater speed.”

“But she gains on us!”

“Here is the creek before us, flowing in a narrow bed between high banks. We may dodge her there!”

They leaped into the stream and ran swiftly with its current. The she-bear came to the edge, having lost sight of them among the bushes that grew at the fringe, sniffed for their trail and then caught the pleasant perfume of rich, luscious berries hanging on vines not ten yards away. Perhaps her mind, despite her immense size and undoubted ferocity, had little continuity, as she instantly forgot all about the two bipeds she had been pursuing, and began a luxurious feast on the berries.

Pehansan was the first to notice they were no longer pursued, and drew Will to a halt.

“The she-bear has stopped and is eating berries,” he said. “Much as she craved our flesh, Waditaka, she likes better what grows on a vine, and I am glad it is so, because I have run enough.”

“And I, too,” said Will. “Look at that beast! Look how she is clawing at those berries and sweeping them into her mouth by the pawful! Enjoying herself after making us run for our lives! Pehansan, what makes the bears in this part of the world grow so big?”

“I do not know, Waditaka. Manitou has willed that it should be so, and it is so. What need is there for us to inquire why?”

“Shall we go back a little and sting her with an arrow or two? She has no right to be feasting and enjoying herself, after making us run for our lives until we have no breath left.”

“No, Waditaka, no! Do you not see that it is wise to leave alone the great bear of the north, when it is leaving you alone? Her mate carried away our arrows in his body and we lost them. Even if we should escape her second attack she would take our arrows with her in the same manner into the forest, and it is hard work making arrows.”

“True, O, Pehansan, and maybe you’re right when you say the female bear is more to be dreaded than the male. She certainly shows no fear of us or of anybody, but goes on tearing to pieces a whole berry patch that should be ours.”

The two stood on a little swell watching the work of devastation go on, and their feeling was one of mortification. It hurt their spirit to be defied thus by an animal, but clearly she was queen of the realm, though in very truth a savage queen.

“If I had my rifle, now back in the village, and plenty of cartridges, I would go for her,” said Will.

“But it is back in the village and you will not go for her,” said Pehansan.

Tired of watching the huge brute devour the berries they went slowly back to camp, and related what they had seen, Roka confirming Pehansan’s judgment in leaving the she-bear alone. The next day four bears of the same gigantic kind appeared among the berries, which were now plentiful along the banks of the creek. The she-bear of the day before was not among them, as the acquaintance of Will and Pehansan had been so full that they would have been able to recognize her. This was an entirely new group, and it became apparent to the Dakota that they had pitched their camp in a dangerous place. Berries were good to the palate of a young warrior and they were also good to the palate of a great bear. So, they were likely to bring bear and warrior together.

But Roka and Pehansan refused to move to a new site. Their pride was stirred. They would not go forth and attack the bears, but they would not let the fear of them drive them from camp. The younger Warriors were eager to send a shower of arrows among the feeding brutes, but they dared not disobey the wise leader.

The bears, increased presently to six and afterward to eight, roamed along both sides of the creek, tearing at the vines, swallowing the berries by the mouthful, and having a truly merry bear time.

“They enjoy the berries all the more,” said Roka, “because they are perhaps the first of the season.”

“And that is doubtless why so many of ’em are here,” said Will. “They have passed the word on to one another that the prairie is full of just what they want, and so they come. But the one we wounded isn’t here. We’d know him by the arrows sticking out of his body.”

The bears were having a glorious time, and it was quite evident that they had not met the wounded one, as he would have told them that the new creatures who hurled pain from a distance were to be dreaded. As it was, they showed the most utter indifference and a complete disrespect of Roka’s band, feeding along the creek until they came to within a few hundred yards of the camp. Roka deemed it wise to build up the twin fires and keep the warriors between them.

“I know the great bears of our own mountains,” he said, “but these are so much larger that they might attack us, when the others would let us alone, if we made no hostile movement against them.”

“Behold,” said Inmu, in tones of deep disgust. “They now play with one another! Having eaten their fill they shout their contempt for us by enjoying their sports almost within bow shot of our camp. It is a great insult to us, O Roka!”

“It is as you say, Inmu,” replied the leader, his eyes darkening. “They act as if we were not on the face of the earth, and it is hard for a Dakota to endure an insult from Warankxi. But it must be done. Courage alone does not make a warrior great. He must be cunning and wise also. He must know when to hold his hand, and he must even know, too, when it is time to run away. To run away is one of the hardest of all things for a young warrior to do, but when he is older and wiser it grows easier.”

“You speak words of wisdom, as you always do, O Roka,” said Hoton, who now, free from his headache, had the buoyancy of mind that always follows recovery from ill, “but I will challenge the beasts. I will dare them to come here within the fires and attack us.”

“Very well, Hoton, if you wish it,” said Roka, indulgently. “The sound of your voice, whether you say anything or not, is always pleasant in my ear.”

Hoton stood at his full height and turned a defiant face to the monstrous group.

“Come, O, bears!” he shouted in a voice like rolling thunder. “Here is man, a new foe of yours, man who has been disputing with the giant wolves the leadership of the forest, and who is ready to dispute it with you! You weigh as much as a man many times over, and his teeth and nails are puny compared with your mighty claws and fangs! Then come and see how he will meet you! Though his body is little by the side of yours his brain is great compared with yours! Why do you stay back, O, cowardly beasts!”

“Hoton would not make such a challenge,” said Inmu, “if he did not have the fires about him. He knows that the bears, like all the other animals, dread the flame.”

“And that,” rejoined Hoton, “is why I am so much more a lord of the forest than the bear is. I know when to issue a challenge and where. The bear does not. Did I not say that my brain was bigger than that of the bears?”

“But the bears don’t accept your challenge,” said Will. “They pay no attention to it.”

Much to Hoton’s disgust he told the truth. The huge brown animals could not have failed to hear him, but apparently he and his comrades did not exist for them. They continued their gambol, pushing one another and running about, as if they never meant evil to any creature.

“Louder, Hoton,” said the pious Tarinca. “These are deaf bears. If they heard a challenge from a mighty warrior like Hoton they would not stay back.”

Hoton refused to answer. He merely glared in silent indignation.

“At least,” said Will, “we shouldn’t let ’em eat up all our berries. We ought to drive ’em off in some manner.”

“I think I know a way,” said Roka. “We will try burning arrows.”

It took them a long while to shred down the inside of bark with their hunting knives until it formed a kind of tow which they could attach, flaming, to their arrows near the head, but the bears gave them plenty of time. After a period of athletic sport they returned to the demolition of the berries, and then they took a second turn at play. By this time the burning arrows were ready and the ten advanced very cautiously toward them. It was evident that they were not noticed at first, but, when they were about half way, Will saw the largest of the bears raise his head, sniff the air and then look at them.

“Fire now,” said Roka, who knew that it would be dangerous to go any nearer. “But be sure you hit.”

He told off rapidly the bears at which each was to aim, and directed them, as soon as their shafts were sped, to run back at all speed to their place between the fires. The members of the monstrous group, growling ominously, were already advancing, and ten bowstrings twanged together. The flaming arrows sang through the air, and not one missed. They were buried deep in the great bodies and the bunch of fire attached to every one burned on.

All the bears roared together. The pain of the barb was not nearly equal to the pain from the fire that flamed against their bodies. They rushed forward in their swift, lumbering fashion against the impudent creatures that had stung them in a double way, but the warriors darted back with incredible speed to their fires, seized torches and swinging them aloft began to leap and shout.

The bears paused. They were scorched with pain and mad with rage, but the fire daunted them. It was something they could not fight. It hurt horribly, and if they struck it with their paws it hurt all the more. Smaller parts of it were alive and clinging to them, where it was devouring hair and hide and eating a way into their bodies. The agony was terrible and, monarchs of the wilderness though they had been, they turned and fled across the creek, and over the prairie and into the forest beyond.

“Ah!” said Hoton, throwing down his torch as the bears began their flight, “I have driven them away.”

“And I suppose the rest of us had nothing to do with it!” said Will.

“You helped me. All of you helped me. I admit it, Waditaka. Ho, Warankxi! Why do you go so fast? We are here waiting for you! We are much smaller than you are! Why do you not come and eat us? I am Hoton, the famous Dakota warrior, of whom all of you have heard! Come and fight me! Stop, you cowards! Ah! Do the arrows sting? And do the little fires burn against your sides? Know now that man is king of all the world! That the red man is king of men! That the Dakota is king of the red men, and that I, Hoton, am king of the Dakota, the greatest warrior of them all! Now, they are gone! The forest has swallowed them up, and they may not come again, because they know I am here!”

“I think you speak the truth, when you tell us they will not come back,” said Roka, thoughtfully. “The bunches of fire will soon drop from their sides, but they will not forget. We have conquered them on this day, but remember that we may be attacked on other days, when we have no fire to use against them. We will be safe from them though as long as we are here on the prairie.”

The leader predicted aright. No more bears came to the berry patches, but Will and Inmu, who went to the edge of the forest seeking a species of large, fat, and exceedingly juicy quail abundant on the prairie, caught a glimpse of a long, lean, yellow body lying on the great bough of an oak.

“Inmutanka!” (Panther) said Will. “It seems scarcely right that so treacherous an animal should bear the same name as my adopted father back in the village.”

“Many of us bear the names of animals,” said Inmu, “but it does not follow because your father is named Inmutanka that he is treacherous and bloodthirsty like Inmutanka there in the tree. I am Inmu, in your language the Lynx, but I cannot sit on a bough and snarl and spit and scream like the real Inmu.”

“I hope not. Shall we send an arrow at Inmutanka?”

“It is a temptation, Waditaka, but perhaps it is better not to do so. He might run away, or in his excitement he might attack us. We do not know. Roka does not wish us to take any idle risk.”

They withdrew a little and, bows and arrows ready in case they should be attacked, watched the panther, which presently raised its great head and glared at them from cruel, yellow eyes.

“It is as large as the one we killed,” said Inmu. “Maybe it is his brother, and has come here for revenge, waiting until we enter the forest, when it can drop from a bough upon our heads.”

“If I thought that, Inmu, I’d open upon it now with my arrows.”

The young Dakota laughed.

“Do not be afraid, Waditaka,” he said. “These be great warriors with whom we march, and Roka and Pehansan, who are older than the rest of us, see and hear everything in the forest. The panther will not leap upon us, at least, not upon the band, when we are not expecting him.”

They left the panther and returned to the camp, where Roka, when he had heard their story, gave orders that nobody should enter the forest for the present.

“Spring is coming very fast,” he said, “and soon all the trees will be clothed in leaves. Then it will be hard to see the giant panthers as they lie along the low boughs. Together we need not fear them, but if one of us should be alone a great beast might spring upon him.”

The young warriors obeyed him, but it required much self restraint, as they were eager to go in the woods and prove to the panther that they were masters. They were born hunters and fighting men. The Dakota had been nothing else, through all the generations, and they liked a challenge from Inmutanka as little as they liked one from Warankxi. But Roka was a stern leader, and, fearing him, as well as respecting him, they obeyed him.

“What do you think has become of the great wolf king?” Will asked Pehansan. “We have not heard from him now for many days.”

“And that, Waditaka, makes him all the more dangerous,” replied the tall warrior. “Xunktokeca is the most cunning of all the wild beasts, which makes him most to be dreaded. He is more terrible even than the great bear. He thinks further and remembers longer than any other wild animal. I know that the king wolf with what is left of his band is in the forest, awaiting us. Perhaps he has gathered to himself new wolves, and now has a pack larger than before.”

Will was not frightened. He had implicit confidence in himself, and in the courage and skill of these gallant comrades of his, but Pehansan was right. The very next day they saw the tracks of wolves at the north end of the prairie, where the group of buffalo fed, and came upon the partially devoured body of a calf about half grown.

“They pulled him down, because he wandered too far from the big bulls and cows,” said Pehansan. “It may have been the king wolf himself that threw him. It was a foolish calf. His father and his mother had told him often to keep within the ring of their great bodies. They smelled the hungry wolves and saw them, but this silly calf was reckless. He did not obey and he paid for it with his life. Do you, Inmu, and do you, Waditaka, learn your lesson from it. I have seen the look on your faces when you came to the edge of the deep forest. You wanted to go into it, no matter what the wise Roka said, and hunt the panther.”

“We admit the wish,” said Will, “but we did not go. We paid strict heed to what the wise Roka said.”

“It is well, but you might not have defied the temptation every time. Look again at what is left of the foolish buffalo calf, and think of his fate.”

“He has suffered,” said Inmu, “but in his death he warns us to beware of the great wolves. We have our lesson and our warning at the same time.”

Returning, they stopped on a knoll and looked back at one of the buffalo groups. Chance or, as Pehansan said, the direct purpose of Manitou, made them look, just when the king wolf himself pulled down another foolish buffalo calf. They saw the tremendous gray body of the monster distinctly, and they recognized him with certainty. Will did not believe there was another wolf in the world so large, and the sight gave him a chill. The chill was deepened when many other wolves rushed up and began to devour the calf.

“I do not care, Pehansan, how soon we leave our camp on the prairie,” he said.

“It will be very soon now,” replied the tall warrior.

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