Low Wolf would not listen to them. “No,” he said, “I am not a hunter of small game. The buffalo are my living, and to-morrow I shall follow them, even if I go alone.”
The people thought that he was joking; but the next morning they learned that he meant what he said, for when they arose they saw that already his lodge had been taken down, and his wife and daughter were busy packing the dogs and lashing the travois on them.
“Hold on,” said the chiefs, coming up; “why all this hurry? It is not safe for you to go alone. It is not right for you to take your wife and daughter out on the lonely plains. [[129]]Think of all the dangers. Wait until we are ready to move.”
“What the Low Wolf has said cannot be unsaid,” he replied. “I told you that to-day I should start after the buffalo, and now I am going.”
For several days the little family travelled eastward along the valley of the evergrowing stream, but found no buffalo. Then they turned northeast, and after four nights on the wide prairie saw before them another valley. Buffalo were all around them now, and Low Wolf said that if they could find plenty of timber and water he would be content to stay in this place until spring. There was a large river flowing through the valley, and along its banks grew groves of large cotton-woods and willows. At the edge of one of these groves the dogs were unpacked and the lodge put up where it was protected from the wind. That night, as the little family sat about the fire eating fat buffalo ribs, Low Wolf said: “Ah, how foolish were the people not to come with me; here we have a fine sheltered camp, plenty of wood, and on all sides the buffalo darken the prairie. Besides, down here it is still summer weather, [[130]]while up there where they are it is already freezing at night.”
The days passed happily. Every morning Low Wolf went out to hunt, and his wife and daughter dried the meat that he brought in, tanned soft robes for sleeping and for covering, and cut great piles of fire-wood against the cold of approaching winter.
One evening, Plover Call, the daughter, went out to gather the night’s wood, and while she was lashing a pile of it to carry in she happened to look up, and saw standing near a man wearing his robe hair side out. He was facing the river, his back towards her, but she supposed it was her father, although it seemed strange that he should follow her out into the timber, as there were no signs of any enemy about.
“What are you doing there?” she asked. “Come, I have gathered my wood; let us go home.”
The man turned towards her and lowered his robe from his face, and she saw that he was a stranger—a handsome young man, with light-colored hair and a white face. Strangely enough she was not afraid of him, for he had a kind face, and his blue eyes looked pleasant. [[131]]
“Ah,” he said, as he slowly drew near where she stood, “I have come from a far land. I have left my people, for something told me to go in search of a wife. When I saw you I knew that you were the one I was meant to find. Let us live together.”