n Indian pony can neigh. But neither Dick nor
Peter Many-Names heard it.

That neigh was answered by a dozen or more. But so strongly blew the
irregular winds that only faint echoes of the shrill clamour were to be
heard. It proceeded from the very heart of an unusually large bluff of
willows upon the bank of a river. There was an open space in the
middle of this thick growth of stunted trees, which was occupied by
several horses and a cluster of tepees. A band of Indians were very
comfortably weathering the unexpected storm in this manner, little more
than a few yards distant from the spot where Dick and Peter Many-Names
had been overcome.

When the pony neighed, no echo of the sound reached the ears of the
people in the tepees; but the loud whinnyings of their own horses at
last aroused Man-afraid-of-a-Bear, who had been sleeping the sleep of
the just after a full meal, and he therefore went cautiously forth to
investigate.

He noticed with satisfaction that the blizzard showed signs of abating,
and he also noticed that another pony had been added to their little
herd; so he carefully followed that pony's track for a few yards, and
came upon Dick and Peter Many-Names. He had looked for something of
the kind, being accustomed to the chances of the plains.

The Red Man is hospitable, but suspicious. However, there was nothing
about the half-frozen and unconscious pair that might have led
Man-afraid-of-a-Bear to suppose that they were enemies. Besides, their
advent had added a very fine pony to the wealth of the tribe; so,
without much more ado, he dragged them one after the other to the
tepees.

His haste was probably their salvation. Heroic and weird remedies were
applied to ward off frost-bite, and after a time Peter Many-Names
recovered sufficiently to eat a hearty meal.

But it was days before the grip of the frost loosened from Dick's
brain. An old woman had taken a queer fancy to the white boy, and she
nursed him patiently and fed him well long after the great storm had
passed, and long after Peter had begun to do his share of the hunting
and other tasks which fell to the men. Day after day passed, and still
Dick lay helpless on the pile of skins in the dusky tepee, waited on by
the grim, silent old squaw, and knowing nothing of his surroundings.
He fancied the Indian woman was Stephanie, and kept calling out to her
and begging her to forgive him. "For indeed, Steenie, I 'm sorry," he
would cry