Brinton said—
"You know where we live, Wolf Ear; I have set out to ride to the reservation to learn whether it is safe to stay where we are: what is your judgment in the matter?"
An indefinable expression passed over the broad face before him. The Ogalalla sat gracefully on his horse, even though he had no saddle. A bit was in the pony's mouth, the single rein looping around the neck and resting at the base of the mane, just in front of the rider, who allowed it to lie there, while the two hands idly held the rifle across the back of the animal and his own thighs.
"You stayed too long," said he; "you should have left two weeks ago; it is too late now."
"But you know my father is not well, Wolf Ear," replied Brinton, with a sickening dread in his heart.
"What has that to do with this?"
"We did not wish to expose him to the severe weather, as we must in the ride to the agency."
"Is he better and stronger now?"
"There is little improvement in his condition. He has been ailing a long time, as you know."
"Then you have gained nothing and will lose all by your delay."