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He walked carefully around them, and travelled on. A little way further on, he met a young man, the handsomest person he had ever seen. His hair was very long, and he wore clothing made of strange skins. His moccasins were sewn with bright colored feathers. The young man said to him, "Did you see some weapons lying on the trail?" "Yes," replied Scarface; "I saw them."
Wait; it is nearly night. To-morrow I will show you the trail to the big water. He lives on the other side of it." Early in the morning, the wolverine showed him the trail, and Scarface followed it until he came to the water's edge. He looked out over it, and his heart almost stopped. Never before had any one seen such a big water. The other side could not be seen, and there was no end to it.
He had been watching us all the time, and would not have moved had we kept to the road. The wonderful part of this is, not that he resembled the round stones and dry grass, but that he knew he did, and was ready to profit by it. We soon found that it was Scarface and his wife Vixen that had made our woods their home and our barnyard their base of supplies.
"We'll soon settle that," I replied, and turned back, but as soon as I had taken one step from the road, up jumped Scarface, for it was he, and ran. A fire had swept the middle of the pasture, leaving a broad belt of black; over this he scurried till he came to the unburnt yellow grass again, where he squatted down and was lost to view.
Within three minutes he sang out in the tongue all hunters know so well, "Fox! fox! fox! straight away down the valley." After awhile I heard them coming back. There I saw the fox Scarface loping lightly across the river-bottom to the stream. In he went and trotted along in the shallow water near the margin for two hundred yards, then came out straight toward me.
"We'll soon settle that," I replied, and turned back, but as soon as I had taken one step from the road, up jumped Scarface, for it was he, and ran. A fire had swept the middle of the pasture, leaving a broad belt of black; over this he skurried till he came to the unburnt yellow grass again, where he squatted down and was lost to view.
Follow that trail, and soon you will see it." Scarface started to walk along the trail, and after he had gone a little way he came to some beautiful things lying in the trail. There was a war shirt, a shield, a bow, and a quiver of arrows. He had never seen such fine weapons. He looked at them, but he did not touch them, and at last walked around them and went on.
I am going away now on a long journey. Make me some moccasins." "Where are you going?" asked the old woman. "There is no war; we are very peaceful here." "I do not know where I shall go," replied Scarface. "I am in trouble, but I cannot tell you now what it is."
When the Sun came home at night, she told him about it, and he too was glad. "My son," he said to Scarface, "I will not forget what you have this day done for me. Tell me now, what can I do for you?" "Hai'-yu" replied Scarface. "Hai'-yu, pity me. I am here to ask you for that girl. I want to marry her. I asked her, and she was glad; but she says you own her, that you told her not to marry."
He was content to stand meekly by while his mother tore to pieces a rotting log, disclosing for them all a meal of ants and fat white grubs. The Little Vermilion, placid river of the plains, has its source in an ice-cold spring high up among the ledges of old Scarface where, after a sheer drop of fifty feet, the young river goes on its way a brawling, turbulent mountain stream.
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