seen nothing, however, to indicate the approach of the great buffalo herds. Still they felt certain that it would be only a day or so until the buffaloes appeared.

"When we see them we will ride fast and tell my people," said White Otter.

"Yes, yes, we will be the first to tell about it," Little Raven declared, enthusiastically.

They were a considerable distance from the Ogalala village, and as the third day drew toward its close they began to wonder if it might not be foolhardy to venture farther to the southward. They knew that there was a possibility of encountering both the Kiowas and the Pawnees in that direction, and the Utes from the west and even their hated foes, the Crows, sometimes moved down into that disputed territory. The Sioux realized, therefore, that they were exposing themselves to considerable danger.

"We have come a long ways—we must watch out," White Otter cautioned.

"It is true," agreed Sun Bird. "The Pawnees travel in this country. Perhaps they are looking around for buffaloes. We must be cautious."

They had stopped at a little grove of cottonwoods, which offered feed and water for the ponies. As the day had almost ended, they were tempted to spend the night at that spot. White Otter, however, decided against it.

"It would be foolish," he declared. "Our enemies know about this place. Perhaps they will come here when it gets dark. We must ride away."

"It is the best thing to do," said Sun Bird.

They loitered until the ponies had finished feeding, and then they prepared to ride away. At that moment a small band of antelopes suddenly appeared on the crest of a low ridge to the westward. They had stopped, and seemed to be watching something on the other side of the ridge. It was evident that they had been alarmed. The Sioux became suspicious. They watched closely.

"Something has frightened Ta-to-ka-dan," said Sun Bird.

"See, they are running down the ridge," Little Raven whispered, excitedly.

The antelopes were bounding down the slope. When they reached the bottom they turned toward the little grove in which the Sioux had taken shelter. The latter watched them with considerable uneasiness.

"It is bad," declared White Otter. "Perhaps some one is peeping over that hill. If those antelopes come close they will find out about us. Then they will run away. If hunters are watching on that ridge they will know that something is over here in this place. Perhaps they will come here to find out about it."

"It is bad," said Sun Bird.

The antelopes were still running toward the grove. Several old bucks, however, had stopped to look back at the ridge. The rest of the band continued across the plain. They were running against the wind. As they came within arrow range of the grove they suddenly stopped, and appeared suspicious. They had caught the danger scent.

"Ta-to-ka-dan is sharp," laughed Sun Bird.

"The wind has told about us," said Little Raven.

White Otter kept silent. He watched the antelopes with grave misgivings. Their behavior alarmed him. He felt quite sure that they would arouse the distrust of any foes who might be loitering within sight, and tempt them to investigate the grove. The idea suggested disturbing possibilities.

"See, Ta-to-ka-dan is standing out there like a frightened old woman," he said, irritably. "If our enemies are about they will come over here to see what has frightened Ta-to-ka-dan."

"Come, we will ride away," proposed Little Raven.

"Wait, wait," Sun Bird cried, excitedly. "I saw something peep over the top of that hill."

"I see it," said Little Raven. "It looks like Ma-ya-sh, the wolf."

They saw what appeared to be the head of a prairie wolf rising cautiously above the top of the ridge. The buck antelopes had discovered it, and were flashing the danger signal and stamping nervously.

"It is bad," White Otter said, uneasily. "Perhaps it is Ma-ya-sh, the wolf—perhaps it is a hunter. We must watch sharp."

As they continued to watch the ridge, the little band of antelopes suddenly turned and bounded away toward the north. It was evident that they had determined to avoid the grove. In a few moments the bucks that had been watching the ridge cantered after them.

"It is good," said White Otter. "Now we will find out who is over there on that hill. If it is Ma-ya-sh and his people they will go away. If it is our enemies they will keep watching this place."

"Something is watching," Sun Bird told him.

The head of the mysterious prowler still showed above the ridge. It was boldly outlined against the fading sunset sky. It appeared to be the head of Ma-ya-sh, the prairie wolf. The Sioux distinctly saw the long, lean snout, and the pointed ears of Ma-ya-sh. Still they were suspicious. They knew that scouts often covered themselves with the skin of Ma-ya-sh to creep up on game, and also to spy upon their foes without arousing distrust.

"I do not believe it is Ma-ya-sh," White Otter declared, finally. "It keeps too still. Ma-ya-sh would move around. I believe it is a hunter."

"We will watch," said Sun Bird.

"Look, look, there is another!" cried Little Raven.

A second head had suddenly appeared. It, too, seemed to be the head of a prairie wolf. The Sioux, however, were doubtful. If the distant objects really were wolves, their actions were most unusual. They were careful to keep themselves well concealed behind the ridge, and as the antelopes were a considerable distance to the northward, it was evident that the mysterious creatures were watching the grove. The Sioux were concealed in the timber, and there was no possibility of being seen. They determined to watch, therefore, until the strange objects on the ridge either showed themselves or disappeared. In a few moments one withdrew from sight.

"That is bad," said White Otter. "Now I believe they are scouts. Perhaps one has gone away to call the hunters. We must watch out."

Daylight was fading. Twilight was settling upon the plain. The Sioux found it difficult to distinguish the remaining object on the ridge. They felt considerably relieved to know that night was close at hand.

"Pretty soon it will be dark," said White Otter. "Then we will ride away."

They waited impatiently for nightfall. Their one fear was that a company of foes might ride toward the grove before darkness made it possible to withdraw without being seen. They had little fear of being caught, but they were anxious to avoid being discovered. Once seen, they realized that it might be perilous to loiter in the vicinity, and they were eager to remain until they found the buffalo herd. They watched closely until night finally came. Then they mounted their ponies and rode from the grove.

"Well, White Otter, how do you feel about it?" Little Raven inquired, as they rode cautiously toward the east.

"I believe we are in danger," White Otter told him.

They continued across the plain until they came to a shallow ravine, which they had passed on their way to the grove. White Otter advised stopping there until daylight.

"This is a good place," he said. "We will wait here and listen."

They picketed the ponies in the bottom of the gully, and then they crawled to the plain to watch and listen. It was a long time before they heard anything to arouse their suspicions. Then they heard the dreary wail of a prairie wolf, in the direction of the grove. Although it sounded natural, the Sioux distrusted it. Twice it rose shrilly through the night, and then it ceased. They were almost certain that it had been a signal. They