rly part of the previous autumn Bending Willow had returned
from the wild rice fields where she and the women of the tribe had
reaped a goodly harvest. Assisted by a young squaw named Wadutah, she
had pitched her tepee in one of the villages of the Sisseton Sioux along
the southern shore of Big Stone Lake.

Black Eagle, a great warrior and a wise counsellor, was generally
regarded as the successor to Old Smoky Wolf when the aged chief should
take the trail of departed warriors. Out of deference to the memory of
his friend, Lone Star, Black Eagle had long refrained from approaching
Bending Willow, whom he had always admired. But just before the winter
season had set in, he had pressed his suit and Bending Willow had
consented to become his wife, for she, too, had often marked the prowess
and wisdom of her husband's companion. A marriage feast had been
celebrated and she had entered Black Eagle's lodge.

Slow Dog had long coveted the leadership of the tribe. He had plotted
secretly to overthrow the rule of Old Smoky Wolf, but his efforts had
been in vain. Black Eagle's popularity had been greatly increased by
his marriage, which only added to the jealousy of Slow Dog.

[Illustration: {Canoe on the river.}]

"With Bending Willow in his lodge, Black Eagle will prove a worthy
successor to Old Smoky Wolf," Slow Dog had often heard old squaws
remark, nodding their gray heads over their beadwork.

Slow Dog had not joined the braves, women and children who had gathered
at the river bank to speed the departure of the boys. His long-nursed
jealousy kept him away from the crowd of well-wishers. But his keen eyes
noted as Hawk Eye and Raven Wing rounded a bend in the river and were
lost to sight, that Black Eagle had stepped into his canoe and paddled
northward.

Was Black Eagle merely going to fish in Big Stone Lake, from whose
southern boundary flowed the Minnesota River, he wondered, or was he
bound for the Red River of the North, which flowed from the upper end of
the lake to Hudson Bay?

Presently Bending Willow returned to her tepee which stood on a point of
high ground overlooking the river. From his lodge Slow Dog could see her
slender form as she busied herself preparing food. Wild thoughts filled
his mind. Some dark night it might be possible to seize her, place her
in his canoe and glide down the river. He pictured her in the frail
craft as he swiftly paddled downstream, past the tepees of the Warpeton
Sioux. He k