"Better so," declared Bent Horn, when the news was brought to the lodge. "Black Bull was of no help to his people. He suffered, and was not happy. Better so!"
"I will take his dog," Sweet Grass promised her sad little maid. "Smoke shall be cared for, though his master has left him."
THE WINTER HUNT
The new home proved to be a good one. Each time the hunters went forth they returned with a load of game. The squaws were kept busy drying buffalo and bear meat, packing away the marrow and cleaning the bones and skins. Every part of the animals was put to some use.
The days of the long, cold winter were at hand, and all must work busily. Timid Hare had much to do, but sometimes she was allowed to play outside of the tepee with other children; they were kinder to her now that she lived in the chief's home. She had plenty to eat, and Sweet Grass and her mother treated her well, but she longed for something that was lacking here but was freely given in the old home: it was love.
The snow fell thick and fast. It covered the prairie for miles in every direction. In some places it was deeper than Timid Hare was tall. A thick crust formed over the top.
Young Antelope set to work to make himself new snowshoes. As he bent the hoops for the frames and crossed them with networks of leather strings. Timid Hare looked on with longing. She had had snowshoes of her own before, and she had enjoyed skimming over the snow fields on them, but they were far away--very far away.
"I will help you make some shoes," Young Antelope told her, when he caught the look. "You can do the easy part, and I will do the hard."
Timid Hare was pleased because Young Antelope did not notice her very often. The snowshoes were soon made and the little girl longed to try them.