e little stranger
squatting beside Sweet Grass, and looking at him with admiring eyes.

"I soon had a fire started," he continued, "and then began to roast my
game. Ugh! the feast was a fine one. But after it was over, I began
the search for home. Then darkness fell suddenly and fast gathering
clouds covered the setting sun. I was alone and far from you all. I
could hear wolves howling in the distance. They were hungry as I had
been."

[Illustration: "I soon had a fire started."]

The youth shivered. Then he went on: "But I remembered how to keep
wolves from drawing too near. They do not love fire. I piled the
brush high, and flames leaped up in the air. All night long I did
this, and now, my mother and my sister, I am with you once more. No
harm befell me."

"You did well, my son," replied his mother. That was all, but her eyes
shone with pride and gladness. So did those of Sweet Grass who
exclaimed, "Those fearful wolves! How I hate them! But you are safe.
They did not devour you; that is enough."

THE DOG FEAST

Soon after Timid Hare went to live in Bent Horn's lodge to serve his
beautiful daughter, there was a good deal of excitement in the village.
Messengers had come from other bands of the Dahcotas saying that their
chiefs were about to make a visit to Bent Horn. They wished to talk
over important matters in regard to the good of the whole tribe.

Both braves and squaws were busy preparing for the great time. There
would be dances and feasts, games and wrestling matches. The warriors
must make ready their best garments and noblest head-dresses. They
must use much grease and paint to look as grand as possible when
receiving their guests.

Sweet Grass and her mother had much to do getting ready for the
celebration, and Timid Hare tried her best to help. She ran errands,
pounded rice, brought wild sweet potatoes and dried berries from the
pit in which the stores of food were buried, and tended the fire in
which buffalo and bear meat were roasting, for much would be eaten
during the visit which would last several days at least.

Sweet Grass smiled upon her little helper. So did her mother. Both of
them were pleased with the child, and came near forgetting that she was
not one of their own people.

Then came the day when word was sent through the village that the
coming visit was to be celebrated by the Feast of the Dog. Different
families would be asked to sacrifice the dog