en punished. No act of bravery can wipe away
his disgrace.

But Wenona sat pale and sad in her brother's wigwam. The bright and
happy looks of yesterday were all gone. Her sister-in-law has hushed her
child to sleep, and she is resting from the fatigues of the day. Several
old men, friends of Little Crow's father, are sitting round the fire;
one has fallen asleep, while the others talk of the wonderful powers of
their sacred medicine.

"Why are you sad, Wenona," said the chief, turning to her; "why should
the eyes of a chief's sister be filled with tears, and her looks bent on
the ground?"

"You need not ask why I am not happy," said Wenona: "Red Cloud brought
presents to you yesterday; he laid them at the door of your wigwam. He
wants to buy me, and you have received his gifts; why do you not return
them? you know I do not love him."

"Red Cloud is a great warrior," replied the chief; "he wears many
feathers of honor; you must marry him."

The girl wrapped herself in her blanket and lay down. For a time her
sighs were heard--but at length sleep came to her relief, and her grief
was forgotten in dreams. But morn has come and they are to make an early
start. Was ever such confusion? Look at that old hag knocking the very
senses out of her daughter's head because she is not ready! and the
girl, in order to avoid the blows, stumbles over an unfortunate dog, who
commences a horrible barking and whining, tempting all the dogs of the
village to outbark and outwhine him.

There goes "White Buffalo" with his two wives, the first wife with the
teepee on her back and her child on the top of it. No wonder she looks
so cross, for the second wife walks leisurely on. Now is her time, but
let her beware! for White Buffalo is thinking seriously of taking
a third.

But they are all off at last. Mothers with children, and corn, and
teepees, and children with dogs on their backs. They are all gone, and
the village looks desolate and forsaken.

CHAPTER III.

The party encamped about twenty miles from the village. The women plant
the poles of their teepees firmly in the ground and cover them with a
buffalo skin. A fire is soon made in the centre and the corn put on to
boil. Their bread is kneaded and put in the ashes to bake, but flour is
not very plenty among them.

The next day parties were out in every direction; tracks of deer were
seen in the snow, and the hunters followed them up. The beautiful animal
flies in terr