"It is enough," said Roka joyfully. "Now they will come in great force on their snowshoes, and we will be saved with our huge prize."
They waited in the utmost confidence and at times Pehansan sent up the two rings again to guide the relief band. But the people from the village had a long distance to travel, and it was noon when they saw the dark figures among the undergrowth and hailed them with joyous cries. At least thirty had come, a few young warriors—there were few in the village—but mostly old men, and the dauntless, wiry old squaws.
They exclaimed in wonder and admiration over the mighty beast the three had killed, and among the bushes about the campfire they found great skeletons, all eaten clean by the huge mountain wolves.
"Truly you were saved by fire," said old Xingudan, who had himself headed the relieving party.
With so many to lift and pull they were able to remove the entire robe from the giant buffalo, the finest skin that many of them had ever seen. It was so vast that it was a cause of great wonder and admiration.
"It belongs," said Xingudan, "to Waditaka, Pehansan and Roka, the three brave warriors who slew the buffalo."
"The three live in different lodges and they will have to pass it one to another for use," said Inmutanka.
Will glanced at Roka, who understood him, and then he glanced at Pehansan, who also understood him.
"It is the wish of the three of us," said the youth, "that this great skin be accepted by the brave and wise Xingudan, whose knowledge and skill have kept the village unhurt and happy under conditions that might well have overcome any man."
A look of gratification, swift but deep, passed over the face of Xingudan, but he declined the magnificent offer. Nevertheless the three insisted, and old Inmutanka observed wisely that the skin should go only in the lodge of the head chief. At last Xingudan accepted, and Will, although he had not made the offer for that purpose, had a friend for life.