much frightened, but scampered off a short distance, sat on their
haunches, licked their bloody chops, and appeared to be waiting with
the utmost impatience to renew the chase again. The buffalo had
suffered severely, and he was ultimately brought to the ground.
The party left him to his fate, and as they rode away they could see
the ravenous pack, with fresh impetuosity, tearing the poor beast
to pieces with true canine ferocity.

That evening, after the party had fixed their camp for the night,
two young Indians, a man and a squaw, rode up and alighted in the
midst of the company, apparently worn out from hard riding.
Their sudden appearance filled the company with amazement, and the
safety of all demanded an immediate explanation, for they all thought
that the young savage might be a runner or spy of some hostile band,
who were meditating an attack upon them. But they were rather
nonplussed upon seeing the youthful maiden; they could not believe
that their first conjectures were correct, her presence precluded
such a possibility. They had been told by Big White that war-parties
never encumbered themselves with women, and the jaded condition of
the young people's horses to some extent allayed their fears, for it
was evident the Indians had made a long and severe journey.

The captain requested the Indian who had accompanied his party thus far
to interrogate them as to what was their destination, and why they
had come so unceremoniously into the camp. It was soon learned that
the boy was a Pawnee who had been captured by a band of Sioux a year
or more ago, and was carried by them to their village far up the
Missouri, in which he had remained a prisoner until an opportunity
had offered to make his escape. The young girl with him was a Sioux,
for whom he had conceived a liking while among her tribe.