draw him into
the open plain.

He answered with hoarse growls, threatening a rider who had ventured
too near. But arrows were many and well-aimed, and in a few minutes the
great and warlike Mato lay dead at the foot of the tree.

The men ran forward and counted their _coups_ on him, just as when an
enemy is fallen. Then they looked at one another and placed their hands
over their mouths as the young girl descended the-tree with a fawn
bound upon her back.

"So that was the bait!" they cried. "And will you not make a feast with
that fawn for us who came to your rescue?"

"The fawn is young and tender, and we have not eaten meat for two days.
It will be a generous thing to do," added her father, who was among
them.

"Ye-e-e!" she cried out in distress. "Do not ask it! I have seen this
fawn's mother. I have promised to keep her child safe. See! I have
saved its life, even when my own was in danger."

"Ho, ho, wakan ye lo! (Yes, yes, 'tis holy or mysterious)," they
exclaimed approvingly.

It was no small trouble for Snana to keep her trust. As may well be
supposed, all the dogs of the teepee village must be watched and kept
at a distance. Neither was it easy to feed the little captive; but in
gaining its confidence the girl was an adept. The fawn soon followed
her everywhere, and called to her when hungry exactly as she had called
to her own mother.

After several days, when her fright at the encounter with the bear had
somewhat worn off, Snana took her pet into the woods and back to the
very spot in which she had found it. In the furthest corner of the wild
plum grove she laid it down, gently stroked its soft forehead, and
smoothed the leaf-like ears. The little thing closed its eyes. Once
more the Sioux girl bent over and laid her cheek against the fawn's
head; then reluctantly she moved away, hoping and yet dreading that the
mother would return. She crouched under a clump of bushes near by, and
gave the doe call. It was a reckless thing for her to do, for such a
call might bring upon her a mountain lion or ever-watchful silver-tip;
but Snana did not think of that.

In a few minutes she heard the light patter of hoofs, and caught a
glimpse of a doe running straight toward the fawn's hiding-place. When
she stole near enough to see, the doe and the fawn were examining one
another carefully, as if fearing some treachery. At last both were
apparently satisfied. The doe caressed her natural child, and the
little o