"I will be such a hunter on the morrow," the youth had replied. "My
spear is already sharpened. It shall bring death to more than one of
the creatures that provide us with comfort through the moon of
difficulty," as he had been taught to call the month of January.

As Young Antelope skimmed along over the snow fields next morning, he
thought more than once of the little captive at home.

"She behaves well," he said to himself, "and she will be a good
homekeeper when she is older. It may be--it may be--that I will yet
choose her for my wife."

Young Antelope was only sixteen years old, but he was already thinking
of getting married! It was the way of his people. The girls married
even younger than the boys--sometimes when only twelve or thirteen
years had passed over their heads. It was therefore not strange that
the chief's son should be considering what wife he would choose.

With many of the braves away on the hunt, the village was quiet, and
the squaws took a little vacation from their work, as on the morrow
they must be very busy caring for the supplies brought home by the
hunters.

In the afternoon Sweet Grass said kindly: "Timid Hare, you have been a
good girl and worked hard of late. You may have the rest of the day
for play. Try your new snowshoes, if you like."

The rest of the day--two whole hours before sunset! It seemed too good
to be true. Never had such a thing happened to the child since she
left the home of the Mandans.