an in the tribe, his old
enemy, Silver Tassel of the bad heart, who yet was ready always to give a
tooth for a tooth, and accepted the fact that he owed Oshondonto his
life.

When famine crawled across the plains to the doors of the settlement and
housed itself at Fort O'Call, Silver Tassel acted badly, however, and
sowed fault-finding among the thoughtless of the tribe.

"What manner of Great Spirit is it who lets the food of his chief
Oshondonto fall into the hands of the Blackfeet?" he said. "Oshondonto
says the Great Spirit hears. What has the Great Spirit to say? Let
Oshondonto ask."

Again, when they were all hungrier, he went among them with complaining
words. "If the white man's Great Spirit can do all things, let him give
Oshondonto and the Athabascas food."

The missionary did not know of Silver Tassel's foolish words, but he saw
the downcast face of Knife-in-the-Wind, the sullen looks of the people;
and he unpacked the box he had reserved jealously for the darkest days
that might come. For meal after meal he divided these delicacies among
them--morsels of biscuit, and tinned meats, and dried fruits. But his eyes
meanwhile were turned again and again to the storm raging without, as it
had raged for this the longest week he had ever spent. If it would but
slacken, a boat could go out to the nets set in the lake near by some days
before, when the sun of spring had melted the ice. From the hour the nets
had been set the storm had raged. On the day when the last morsel of meat
and biscuit had been given away the storm had not abated, and he saw with
misgiving the gloomy, stolid faces of the Indians round him. One man, two
children, and three women had died in a fortnight. He dreaded to think
what might happen, his heart ached at the looks of gaunt suffering in the
faces of all; he saw, for the first time, how black and bitter
Knife-in-the-Wind looked as Silver Tassel whispered to him.

With the color all gone from his cheeks, he left the post and made his way
to the edge of the lake where his canoe was kept. Making it ready for the
launch, he came back to the fort. Assembling the Indians, who had watched
his movements closely, he told them that he was going through the storm to
the nets on the lake, and asked for a volunteer to go with him.

No one replied. He pleaded--for the sake of the women and children.

Then Knife-in-the-Wind spoke. "Oshondonto will die if he goes. It is a
fool's journey--does the wol