Slow Dog had not joined the braves, women and children who had gathered at the river bank to speed the departure of the boys. His long-nursed jealousy kept him away from the crowd of well-wishers. But his keen eyes noted as Hawk Eye and Raven Wing rounded a bend in the river and were lost to sight, that Black Eagle had stepped into his canoe and paddled northward.
Was Black Eagle merely going to fish in Big Stone Lake, from whose southern boundary flowed the Minnesota River, he wondered, or was he bound for the Red River of the North, which flowed from the upper end of the lake to Hudson Bay?
Presently Bending Willow returned to her tepee which stood on a point of high ground overlooking the river. From his lodge Slow Dog could see her slender form as she busied herself preparing food. Wild thoughts filled his mind. Some dark night it might be possible to seize her, place her in his canoe and glide down the river. He pictured her in the frail craft as he swiftly paddled downstream, past the tepees of the Warpeton Sioux. He knew every twist and turn of the river. At Mankate, meaning "Blue Earth" in his language, it turned sharply to the north and east. Bending Willow should see Mendota, "the meeting of the waters," for there the beautiful Minnesota completed its long journey of four hundred miles and mingled its "sky-tinted waters" with those of the Mich-e-see-be, "Father of Running Waters."
Not there, however, would he beach his canoe. He would go further; past the high white cliffs along the shore to Kaposia, and down the Mich-e-see-be, upon whose western bank dwelt the Medawakantens. Then up the Canon River to its head waters where stood the villages of the Wahpekutes, the fourth tribe of the Minnesota Sioux. There he would dwell with Bending Willow, the Fawn of the Dakotas, the most beautiful woman of the Sioux nation.
FROM HIS LODGE SLOW DOG COULD SEE HER SLENDER FORM AS SHE BUSIED HERSELF PREPARING FOOD.