"I know," quoth the Bird; "but I stick to the plains; why, I don't know, for there are few Buffalo now. This summer I made a long trip. I started in at Edmonton with a Herd of the Man's Buffalo."
"I've seen them," said Shag; "great clumsy things without shape or make; as big behind as they are in front; of a verity the shape of their own carts."
"Well," continued the Bird, "there was a matter of a dozen of these creatures tied to a four-wheeled cart, and I followed the Herd through to the place they call Fort Garry. But I got tired of it—day after day the same thing. What I like is to fly about. Now, I'll travel with you to-day, just for companionship, and to-morrow I shall be off with some new friend."
"Perhaps," mumbled the Wolf.
"Did you speak, Wolf?" perked the Bird.
"I said, 'Good riddance,'" snapped A'tim.
"He, he, he!" laughed the Cow-Bird; "your friend is pleasant company, Great Bull."
That night the two Outcasts and the Cow-Bird camped together, near the Saskatchewan River; the brown body curled up contentedly on Shag's horn, while the Dog-Wolf slept against his paunch.
In the morning the Cow-Bird was gone.