month alone, for it would take Harrington that time to go and return
through the deep snow, was by no means a pleasant prospect for a boy
under fourteen, and with a broken leg.

Dave started the following morning on foot, and Billy was left alone,
helpless, and in the solitude of the mountain wilds.

To throw wood on the fire was a painful effort for him, and to move so
as to cook his food was torture, and boys of his age can well feel for
him in distress and loneliness.

But Buffalo Billy was made of stern stuff, and knew not what fear was;
but who can picture the thoughts that were constantly in his young
brain, when the winds were sweeping through the pines at night, the
wolves were howling about his door, and the sleet and snow was almost
continually falling.

It were enough to drive a strong man mad, let alone a boy.

But he stood it bravely, each day however counting with longing heart
the hours that went so slowly by, and hoping for his comrade's return.

"Perhaps he has been frozen to death."

That was his thought one day about Harrington.

The next it was:

"I wonder if he has not lost his way?"

Again it was:

"I fear the Indians may have killed him."

When Dave had been gone about two weeks, Buffalo Billy was startled one
day from a sound nap, to see an Indian standing by his side.

He was in full war-paint and feathers, which showed he was on the
war-path, and Billy felt that it was all over with him.

Speaking to him in Sioux, which the boy understood, he asked:

"What pale-face boy do here?"

"My leg is broken."

"What for come here?"

"To get furs."

"This red-skin country?"

This laconic assertion Billy could not contradict, so he wisely held his
peace.

"Let see leg," came next.

Billy showed him the bandaged limb, which was broken between the knee
and ankle.

Just then another Indian entered whom Billy recognized, as having seen
before, and whom he knew to be the great Sioux Chief, Rain-in-the-Face.

Billy called him by name, and he kept back the warriors, who were about
to end the boy's life then and there.

"Boy pale-face know chief?" asked Rain-in-the-Face.

"Yes, I saw you at Fort Laramie, and gave you a knife," said Billy with
hope in his heart.

"Ugh! chief don't forget; have knife here," and he showed a knife which
he had doubtless often used upon the scalps of pale-faces.

"What pale-face boy do here?"

Billy told him.

"Where friend?"

"Gone after te