Selecting this one, Red Arrow called: “O gray wolf of my clan, answer me this question. White Otter and I are going to the Absa-roke for scalps—shall we have fortune, or is the Absaroke medicine too strong?”
The wolf began to circle as Red Arrow approached it and the buffalo carcass. Slowly it trotted off to his left hand, whereat the anxious warrior followed slowly.
“Tell me, pretty wolf, shall White Otter’s and my scalps be danced by the Absaroke? Do the enemy see us coming now—do they feel our presence?” And the wolf trotted around still to the left.
“Come, brother. Red Arrow is of your clan. Warn me, if I must go back.” And as the Indian turned, yet striding after the beast, it continued to go away from him, but kept an anxious eye on the dead buffalo meanwhile.
“Do not be afraid, gray wolf; I would not raise my arm to strike. See, I have laid my bow on the ground. Tell me not to fear the Absaroke, gray wolf, and I promise to kill a fat buffalo-cow for you when we meet again.”
The wolf had nearly completed his circle by this time, and once again his follower spoke.
“Do you fear me because of the skin of the dead wolf you see by my bow on the ground? No, Red Arrow did not kill thy brother. He was murdered by a man of the dog clan, and I did not do it. Speak to me—help me against my fears.” And the wolf barked as he trotted around until he had made a complete circle of the buffalo, whereat Red Arrow took up his bow and bundle, saying to White Otter, “Now we will go.”
The two then commenced their long quest in search of the victims which were to satisfy their ambitions. They followed up the depression in the plains where they had found the buffalo, gained the timber, and walked all day under its protecting folds. They were a long way from their enemies’ country, but instinctively began the cautious advance which is the wild-animal nature of an Indian.
The old buffalo-bulls, elk and deer fled from before them as they marched. A magpie mocked at them. They stopped while White Otter spoke harshly to it: “You laugh at us, fool-bird, because we are boys, but you shall see when we come back that we are warriors. We will have a scalp to taunt you with. Begone now, before I pierce you with an arrow, you chattering woman-bird.” And the magpie fluttered away before the unwonted address.