There goes "White Buffalo" with his two wives, the first wife with the
teepee on her back and her child on the top of it. No wonder she looks
so cross, for the second wife walks leisurely on. Now is her time, but
let her beware! for White Buffalo is thinking seriously of taking
a third.
But they are all off at last. Mothers with children, and corn, and
teepees, and children with dogs on their backs. They are all gone, and
the village looks desolate and forsaken.
CHAPTER III.
The party encamped about twenty miles from the village. The women plant
the poles of their teepees firmly in the ground and cover them with a
buffalo skin. A fire is soon made in the centre and the corn put on to
boil. Their bread is kneaded and put in the ashes to bake, but flour is
not very plenty among them.
The next day parties were out in every direction; tracks of deer were
seen in the snow, and the hunters followed them up. The beautiful animal
flies in terror from the death which comes surer and swifter than her
own light footsteps. The hunter's knife is soon upon her, and while
warmth and even life are left, the skin is drawn off.
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