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But no one ever sees any of these terrible Wolves, the few men who know that country have plenty of pemmican, that is neither Moose nor Caribou, and the Major briefly summed up the situation: "The Wolves are indeed playing havoc with the Buffalo, and the ravenous leaders of the pack are called Sousi, Kiya, Kirma, and Squirrel."
At noon Jarvis and Sousi came back jubilant; they had seen countless Buffalo trails, had followed a large bull and cow, but had left them to take the trail of a considerable Band; these they discovered in a lake. There were 4 big bulls, 4 little calves, 1 yearling, 3 2-year-olds, 8 cows. These allowed them to come openly within 60 yards. Then took alarm and galloped off.
Sousi could not go because his wife was sick, and it preyed on his mind so that he dare not trust himself away from the settlement; at least, not without much medicine to fortify him against rheumatism, home-sickness, and sadness.
Jarvis shrewdly suspected that our guide wanted to go home, having kept his promise, won the reward, and got a load of Bear meat. However, the native was the guide, we set out in a shower which continued more or less all day and into the night, so we camped in the rain. Next day it was obvious, and Sousi no longer concealed the fact, that he was making for home as fast as he could go.
It's a, fine thing to get started, however late in the day, and though it was 3.20 P. M. before everything was ready, we gladly set out Sousi, Major Jarvis, and myself all mounted, the native leading a packhorse with provisions. And now we had a chance to study our guide. A man's real history begins, of course, about twenty years before he is born.
I crawled forward and saw, not one, but half a dozen Buffalo. "I must be nearer," I said, and, lying flat on my breast, crawled, toes and elbows, up to a bush within 75 yards, where I made shot No. 1, and saw here that there were 8 or 9 Buffalo, one an immense bull. Sousi now cocked his rifle-I said emphatically: "Stop! you must not fire."
Sousi came shouting in apparent fear; I rushed to the place, thinking he was attacked by something, perhaps a Buffalo bull, but too late to stop the tragedy that followed. That night he roasted one of the cubs, and as I watched the old cannibal chewing the hands off that little baby Bear it gave me a feeling of disgust for all flesh-eating that lasted for days.
They also saw a Moose and a Marten and 2 Buffalo skeletons. How I did curse my presentiment that prevented them having the camera and securing a really fine photograph! At 2 P. M. Sousi prepared to break camp. He thought that by going back on our trail he might strike the trail of another herd off to the south-east of the mountain.
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