But what the huskies felt did not cause Kiopo any serious discomfort. He was a half-grown cub no longer. The long winter had made a wolf of him. His chest had deepened, his limbs lengthened. He was a creature to be feared. When Dusty Star went through the camp, Kiopo close at his heels, he had reason to be proud of his wolf. The boy held his head high, because of the great pride and gladness that was in his heart. Now that he had Kiopo once more, his heart soared like a hawk. The joy that was in him shone clear in his eyes. He gave a bold look into the faces of every one he met. But when he and Kiopo passed out on to the prairie, suspicious glances followed them, and watched keenly where they went.
Nothing happened that day, or the next; but upon the third day after Kiopo's return, Dusty Star became uneasy. He could not have definitely said what was the matter. But things were in the air. Something new was in the camp. It had not declared itself, but it was none the less there. Beneath the painted coverings of the tepees, he felt that the secret grew.
On the evening of the third day, just after sundown, he was returning from the prairie, after driving his father's ponies in for the night. The camp fires were burning brightly and in the deepening twilight dusky figures were passing to and fro. He noticed that round the tepee of Spotted Owl a small group of people had collected. Inside, a drum was beating softly and very slowly, as if some medicine ceremony were beginning. Dusty Star lingered a little to watch, and then passed on. When he reached the home tepee he found his supper ready. But after he had finished, he did not go immediately to bed as usual. Instead, he went out again into the camp.
The night had fallen now. It was cloudy and very dark. But the glow of the camp fires made a sort of twilight in the camp itself; a twilight that wandered as the fires rose or fell. While he stood intently on the watch, he saw a figure come out from the doorway of his grandmother's tepee. The figure stood quite still, as if it, too, were on the watch. It was muffled in a robe, from head to foot, so that its actual shape was hidden. Dusty Star was surprised. It was not his grandmother's habit to stir abroad after nightfall. She had grave misgivings in the dark. But if it were a late visitor why then was it so carefully covered?
The figure moved and glided away into the darkness. Dusty Star, keeping well within the deepest shadows, followed swiftly in the figure's track. It did not stop till it reached Little Owl's tepee. Dusty Star watched it enter, and then crept close to the back of the lodge. The soft beating of the drum was still audible, but soon after the entrance of the newcomer it ceased. Then a voice spoke.
Dusty Star, crouching close against the bottom of the tepee could hear every word distinctly. The speaker was Spotted Owl.
"The wolf has returned to Running Wolf's lodge," he said. "It is five moons now since he went away. He may have brought back much medicine with him. It may be good medicine. Lone Chief thinks it is a strong medicine—very good, perhaps, if we sent a war party against the Yellow Dogs. But he must be watched."
The voice ceased. Apparently, for the moment, Spotted Owl had nothing more to say.
Then another voice spoke.
"The wolf is always with the boy. They go out upon the prairies together. If the wolf has medicine, he shares it with the boy. The boy knows many things about the wolves."