The scout, too, was
singing his buffalo bull song in a guttural, lowing
chant as he neared the hunting camp. Within
arrow-shot he paused again, while the usual cere-
monies were enacted for his reception. This
done, he was seated with the leaders in a chosen
place.
"It was a long run," he said, "but there were
no difficulties. I found the first herd directly
north of here. The second herd, a great one,
is northeast, near Shell Lake. The snow is deep.
The buffalo can only follow their leader in their
retreat."
"Hi, hi, hi!" the hunters exclaimed solemnly
in token of gratitude, raising their hands heaven-
ward and then pointing them toward the ground.
"Ho, kola! one more round of the buffalo-
pipe, then we shall retire, to rise before daybreak
for the hunt," advised one of the leaders. Si-
lently they partook in turn of the long-stemmed
pipe, and one by one, with a dignified "Ho!"
departed to their teepees.
The scout betook himself to his little old buf-
falo teepee, which he used for winter hunting
expeditions.
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