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He grudged the hours of rest he must give his horse, pitying the poor beast for its lack of food and water, but compelled to urge it on and on. After what seemed a lifetime of hardship, both boy and beast began to weaken. The irresistible sleepiness that forebodes freezing began to overcome Little Wolf-Willow. Utter exhaustion was sapping the strength of the cayuse.
"I would have let you take me, handcuff me, anything, for I understand, but he does not." Corporal Manan stood up, shaking his shoulders as a big dog shakes after a plunge. Then he spoke: "Little Wolf-Willow, can you ever forgive us all for thinking you were a cattle-thief?
The superintendent was so kind and so gentle, and his smile was so true, that the boy had grown somewhat attached to him, so, without fear of anything in the world, the little Cree scholar slipped noiselessly into the room. "Ah, Little Wolf-Willow," said the superintendent, kindly, "I notice that you are beginning to understand a little English already." The boy smiled, and nodded slightly.
"A bad business, captain," he said, coming to attention, "a very bad business, sir. I have reports from old 'Scotty' McIntyre's ranch up north that young Wolf-Willow, that we all know so well, has been caught rustling cattle cut out two calves, sir, and well, he's stolen them, sir, and old Scotty is after him with a shot-gun." "Too bad, too bad!" said the captain, with genuine concern.
"We ran away for a little holiday just by ourselves. I would not have missed it for the world." Then, more seriously, he added, "Gentlemen, if I could think that my Prime Minister and the Government at Ottawa could steer the Ship of State as splendidly as Bobbie steered that canoe, I would never have another wrinkle on my forehead or another grey hair on my head." Little Wolf-Willow
Years seemed to roll from her face. She had been so fearful lest he should not come back to their old prairie life. "Rest here," she said, in the gentle Cree tongue. "Rest here, Little Wolf-Willow; it is your home." The boy himself had been almost afraid to come.
Start early, at daylight, and bring him in to prison when you return." "I?" fairly shouted Corporal Manan. "I arrest young Wolf-Willow? No, sir! You'll have to get another policeman." "You'll do as you receive orders," blurted the captain, then added more graciously, "Why, Manan, don't you see how much better it is to arrest him? Scotty is after him with a shotgun, and he'll kill the boy on sight.
It took much heat and nourishment before Little Wolf-Willow was able to interpret the story from the Cree tongue into English, then back again into Cree, and so be the go-between for the Corporal and old Beaver-Tail. "Yes, my grandfather, Big Wolf-Willow, is here," said the boy, his dark eyes looking fearlessly into the Corporal's blue ones.
Then his fringed buckskin "chaps" went; in their place a pair of dreadful grey cloth trousers. Little Wolf-Willow made no comment, but he kept his eyes and ears open, and mastered a few important words of English, which, however, he kept to himself as yet.
"The other boys have taken them. Wouldn't you like me to call you John? I'd like to." "Me Wolf-Willow, same grandfather," came in tones of pronounced decision. "Very well, Little Wolf-Willow, you must do as you like, you know; but you said when you came in that you liked me, and I like you very much. Perhaps some day you will do these things to please me." Then Mr.
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