"There is the spring. Now I go," said Black Bull, pointing it out
half-hidden in a hollow shaded by clumps of bushes. The youth, with
Smoke who had followed close at his heels ever since leaving the lodge,
turned back and Timid Hare stooped down to fill the crock.

As she did so her eyes met a pair of large black ones fastened upon her
own, and just above the water's edge. They belonged to the chief's
only son Young Antelope, who had come for a drink of cool water before
going off on a hunting trip. He was a handsome youth. As he lay
stretched out on the grassy bank above the spring he had heard the
sound of Timid Hare's steps as she drew near, and looked up to see who
it was.

"Oof! the stranger," he said, but he did not scowl like the little
girls whom the little captive had passed a few minutes before.

The next minute he had sprung to his pony's back and gone galloping
away. Timid Hare thought sadly of the dear foster-brother far away on
the wide prairie, as she trudged back with her load to the tepee where
The Stone awaited her.




THE CHANGE

"Bad," scolded the squaw as she looked into the crock and saw that some
of the water had been spilled on the way home.