ho, remounting with Mul-tal-la, rode to the new residence
erected at the northern extremity of the Blackfoot town, with their
guides walking beside their animals.

Mul-tal-la was as stoical as any of his race, though he was yearning to
look upon that father and mother who would greet him, and he them, as
if they had been parted for only a few hours. Slipping to the ground
again, the three took a peep at the interior of the tepee which has
already been described to you. The boys expressed their delight and
thanked their friends over and over again. Then Mul-tal-la bade them
good-bye, promising to call in a short time, after which he lounged
away toward his own lodge. On the road he continually encountered his
old friends and exchanged greetings and talked with them as if glad of
an excuse for delaying his reunion with his parents.

One of the first bits of news imparted to the Blackfoot was that
Taggarak was absent on a visit to the farthest village to the north,
but was expected soon to return. Mul-tal-la was relieved to hear this,
for, despite the assurances of his friends, he dreaded the anger of the
terrible chieftain.

When within a hundred yards of his home, which remained closed as if
deserted, Mul-tal-la turned into the tepee where dwelt the parents of
the companion who had been buried hundreds of miles away. The father
sat on a pile of furs at one side of the lodge, stolidly smoking his
pipe. His squaw was kneeling in front of the burning wood and trying to
blow it into a blaze. They looked up as the visitor drew aside the flap
which served as a door. The old warrior removed the long stem from his
lips and grunted as he recognized the visitor. The squaw raised her
head, saw who the caller was, and resumed blowing the fire, as if she
had no interest in what he might say.

Mul-tal-la told briefly the particulars of what the couple already
knew, speaking words of praise for the lost one, and saying how sad his
heart had been since the dreadful accident that befell his companion.

The father replaced the stem in his mouth and slowly puffed. Once he
grunted, but did not speak a word. The mother continued to fill her
leathern cheeks with air and to blow upon the fagots that were burning
so strongly as not to need any urging. She did not speak nor look up
until several minutes after the departure of Mul-tal-la.

CHAPTER XII.

BLACKFOOT CITIZENS.

"Well," said Victor Shelton, "our tramping is through fo