his wife. Still, he knew she must be there. He had followed the trail of
the party to this place. They had not killed her on the way. He kept
looking in at the lodges until it was late, and the people let the fires go
out and went to bed. Then the man went down to where the women got their
water from the river. Everywhere along the stream was a cut bank, but in
one place a path of steps had been made down to the water's edge. Near this
path, he dug a hole in the bank and crawled into it, closing up the
entrance, except one small hole, through which he could look, and watch the
people who came to the river.

As soon as it was daylight, the women began to come for water. _Tum, tum,
tum, tum_, he could hear their footsteps as they came down the path, and he
looked eagerly at every one. All day long the people came and went,--the
young and old; and the children played about near him. He saw many strange
people that day. It was now almost sunset, and he began to think that he
would not see his wife there. _Tum, tum, tum, tum_, another woman came
down the steps, and stopped at the water's edge. Her dress was strange, but
he thought he knew the form. She turned her head and looked down the river,
and he saw her face. It was his wife. He pushed away the dirt, crawled
out, went to her and kissed her. "_Kyi_," he said, "hurry, and let us swim
across the river. Five of your relations and your own young brother are
waiting for us in that piece of timber."

"Wait," replied his wife. "These people have given me a great many pretty
things. Let me go back. When it is night I will gather them up, steal a
horse, and cross over to you."

"No, no," cried the man. "Let the pretty things go; come, let us cross at
once."