IN THE OLD WEST 169 



care of Yute Chil-co-the, or the " Reed that 

 Bends," in patching the holes worn in his neatly- 

 fitting moccasins, the work of her nimble fingers. 

 However, he ate and smoked, and smoked and ate, 

 and slept none the worse for his mishap ; thought, 

 before he closed his eyes, a little of his lost wives, 

 and more perhaps of the " Bending Reed " than 

 of Sah-qua-manish, or *' She Who Runs with the 

 Stream " — drew his blanket tightly round him, 

 felt his rifle handy to his graap, and was speedily 

 asleep. 



Whilst the tired mountaineer breathes hei^/ily 

 in his dream, careless and unconscious that a liv- 

 ing soul is near, his mule on a sudden pricks her 

 ears and stares into the gloom, whence a figure 

 soon emerges, and with noiseless steps draws near 

 the sleeping hunter. Taking one look at the 

 slumbering form, the same figure approaches the 

 fire and adds a log to the pile; which done, it 

 quietly seats itself at the feet of the sleeper, and 

 remains motionless as a statue. 



Towards morning the hunter awoke, and, rub- 

 bing his eyes, was astonished to feel the glowing 

 warmth of the fire striking on his naked feet, 

 which, in Indian fashion, were stretched towards 

 it ; as by this time, he knew, the fire he left burning 

 must long since have expired. Lazily raising him- 

 self on his elbow, he saw a figure sitting near it 

 with the back turned to him, which, although his 

 exclamatory wagh was loud enough in all con- 



