to behave more reasonably, Dusty Star sat up.
He put his arms round his neck, and began to talk to him in a low,
gurgling flow of quaint Indian words. And indeed the words seemed to be
sweet with the juice of sarvis berries and wild pears, and to have the
wind in them over a thousand miles of prairie, and the wet sound of
great waters, and syllables borrowed from beasts and birds since the
beginning of the earth. If Kiopo did not understand the words in the
very exact shape of them as they ran from Dusty Star's mouth, he had a
sense of what he was trying to tell him, because he understood the great
nature-language that is deeper than the dictionaries, and lies broad
along the world.

Beyond a low whine occasionally, or a gurgle in his throat, Kiopo did
not reply. Yet his very silence was an answer. His whole body gave it.
_His silence bulged with Himself._

CHAPTER IX

SITTING-ALWAYS SPEAKS HER MIND

The news of Kiopo's return ran swiftly through the camp. They spoke of
it in the tepees as something to be reckoned with. It might mean evil,
or it might mean good. Whether good or evil, it was very strange. As for
the huskies, they had but one feeling about it: the wolf's return was
bad. All that day, and the days that followed, Stickchi's eyes had a
wicked glitter; and not a husky of them all but knew that mischief was
brewing.

But what the huskies felt did not cause Kiopo any serious discomfort. He
was a half-grown cub no longer. The long winter had made a wolf of him.
His chest had deepened, his limbs lengthened. He was a creature to be
feared. When Dusty Star went through the camp, Kiopo close at his heels,
he had reason to be proud of his wolf. The boy held his head high,
because of the great pride and gladness that was in his heart. Now that
he had Kiopo once more, his heart soared like a hawk. The joy that was
in him shone clear in his eyes. He gave a bold look into the faces of
every one he met. But when he and Kiopo passed out on to the prairie,
suspicious glances followed them, and watched keenly where they went.

Nothing happened that day, or the next; but upon the third day after
Kiopo's return, Dusty Star became uneasy. He could not have definitely
said what was the matter. But things were in the air. Something new was
in the camp. It had not declared itself, but it was none the less there.
Beneath the painted coverings of the tepees, he felt that the secret
grew.

On the evening of the third