He hung the meat of the buffalo where the wolves could not get at it. Then he took what he could carry, and traveled back thirteen tedious miles through the snow.
It was moonlight when he got to the hut. The wise Indian was as good-natured as ever. He did not let hunger make him cross. He asked Scouwa if he were not tired. He told the little boy to make haste and cook some meat.
"I will cook for you," said Scouwa. "Let the boy roast some meat for himself."
The boy threw some meat on the coals, but he was so hungry that he ate it before it was cooked. Scouwa cut some buffalo meat into thin slices, and put the slices into a kettle to stew for the starving man. When these had boiled awhile, he was going to take them off, but the Indian said,
"No, let it cook enough."
And so, hungry as he was, the wise Indian waited till the meat was well cooked, and then ate without haste, and talked about being thankful to the Great Spirit.
The next day Scouwa started back for another load of buffalo meat. When he had gone five miles, he saw a tree which a bear had taken for its winter home. The hole in the tree was far from the ground. Scouwa made some bundles of dry, half-rotten wood. These he put on his back, and then climbed a small tree that stood close to the one with a hole in it. The rotten wood he touched to a burning stick from a fire he had kindled. Then he dropped the smoking bundles of rotten wood one after another down into the bear's den, and quickly slid to the ground again.
The bear did not like smoke. After a while he crawled out of the hole to get breath. Scouwa shot him.
He hung the bear meat out of the reach of wolves, and carried back to the hut all that he could take at one time. The old man and the boy were greatly pleased when they heard that there was bear meat as well as buffalo meat in plenty. After this they had food enough.