hen three, rose there. Pehansan, in order to be sure, sent up the
two circles again, and the three promptly replied.

"It is enough," said Roka joyfully. "Now they will come in great force
on their snowshoes, and we will be saved with our huge prize."

They waited in the utmost confidence and at times Pehansan sent up the
two rings again to guide the relief band. But the people from the
village had a long distance to travel, and it was noon when they saw the
dark figures among the undergrowth and hailed them with joyous cries. At
least thirty had come, a few young warriors--there were few in the
village--but mostly old men, and the dauntless, wiry old squaws.

They exclaimed in wonder and admiration over the mighty beast the three
had killed, and among the bushes about the campfire they found great
skeletons, all eaten clean by the huge mountain wolves.

"Truly you were saved by fire," said old Xingudan, who had himself
headed the relieving party.

With so many to lift and pull they were able to remove the entire robe
from the giant buffalo, the finest skin that many of them had ever seen.
It was so vast that it was a cause of great wonder and admiration.

"It belongs," said Xingudan, "to Waditaka, Pehansan and Roka, the three
brave warriors who slew the buffalo."

"The three live in different lodges and they will have to pass it one to
another for use," said Inmutanka.

Will glanced at Roka, who understood him, and then he glanced at
Pehansan, who also understood him.

"It is the wish of the three of us," said the youth, "that this great
skin be accepted by the brave and wise Xingudan, whose knowledge and
skill have kept the village unhurt and happy under conditions that might
well have overcome any man."

A look of gratification, swift but deep, passed over the face of
Xingudan, but he declined the magnificent offer. Nevertheless the three
insisted, and old Inmutanka observed wisely that the skin should go only
in the lodge of the head chief. At last Xingudan accepted, and Will,
although he had not made the offer for that purpose, had a friend for
life.

The band began to cut up the vast body, which, when the flesh was well
pounded and softened by the squaws, would alone feed the village for
quite a period. The task could not be finished that day, but they built
such a ring of great fires for the night that the fierce carnivora did
not dare to come near. The next day they reached the village with the
grea