“Have you heard my words?” he said after a long silence.
“I have heard,” said the woman, “and I believe. I alone among all the villagers believe.”
“Then shall you follow me on my lonesome trail. I see not its end, for it is in the mist.”
The days when the prairie was brown passed, and the snows came. And there was one who followed a bitter winter trail.
From village to village he went, speaking words of kindness and doing good deeds. But everywhere he was driven from the villages. And there were two who followed him—two faithful disciples—the woman, whose name was changed to Mary, and the wolf.
And ever the tall thin man, whose face was pinched with hunger and the cold, gave kind words to those who offered blows.
It happened in the time of Hunga-Mubli—the time when the snows drift against the north sides of the lodges, that a rumour ran across the prairie—a rumour that a strange sickness had come to the village of the Poncas. It was the sickness called Gchatunga, the sickness of the big, red sores.
Then Wa-choo-bay and his two disciples turned weary feet toward the stricken village of the Poncas. It was a hard trail, with little food and much cold.
And when the three entered the stricken village there was a rejoicing among the Poncas, for they said: