llow their leader in their retreat."

"Hi, hi, hi!" the hunters exclaimed solemnly in token of gratitude,
raising their hands heavenward and then pointing them toward the ground.

"Ho, kola! one more round of the buffalo-pipe, then we shall retire, to
rise before daybreak for the hunt," advised one of the leaders. Silently
they partook in turn of the long-stemmed pipe, and one by one, with a
dignified "Ho!" departed to their teepees.

The scout betook himself to his little old buffalo teepee, which he used
for winter hunting expeditions. His faithful Shunka, who had been all
this time its only occupant, met him at the entrance as dogs alone know
how to welcome a lifelong friend. As his master entered he stretched
himself in his old-time way, from the tip of his tail to that of his
tongue, and finished by curling both ends upward.

"Ho, mita shunka, eat this; for you must be hungry!" So saying, the
scout laid before his canine friend the last piece of his dried buffalo
meat. It was the sweetest meal ever eaten by a dog, judging by his long
smacking of his lips after he had swallowed it!

The hunting party was soon lost in heavy slumber. Not a sound could be
heard save the gnawing of the ponies upon the cottonwood bark, which was
provided for them instead of hay in the winter time.

All about Shell Lake the bison were gathered in great herds. The
unmistakable signs of the sky had warned them of approaching bad
weather. The moon's robe was girdled with the rainbow wampum of heaven.
The very music of the snow under their feet had given them warning. On
the north side of Shell Lake there were several deep gulches, which were
the homes of every wanderer of the plains at such a time at this. When
there was a change toward severe weather, all the four-footed people
headed for this lake. Here was a heavy growth of reeds, rushes, and
coarse grass, making good shelters, and also springs, which afforded
water after the lake was frozen solid. Hence great numbers of the bison
had gathered here.

When Wapashaw, the game scout, had rolled himself in his warm buffalo
robe and was sound asleep, his faithful companion hunter, the great
Esquimaux wolf dog, silently rose and again stretched himself, then
stood quiet for a moment as if meditating. It was clear that he knew
well what he had planned to do, but was considering how he should do it
without arousing any suspicion of his movements. This is a dog's art,
and the night tricks a