“Sh-h-h!  Sh-h-h!” replied the girl in a whisper, looking about her very much frightened, for her bull husband was sleeping close by.  “Do not speak so loud.  Go back and tell him to wait.”

“Your daughter is over there with the buffalo.  She says ‘Wait,’” said the magpie when he had flown back to the poor father.

After a little time the bull awoke and said to his wife, “Go and bring me some water.”  Then the woman was glad, and she took a horn from her husband’s head and went to the wallow for water.

“Oh, why did you come?” she said to her father.  “They will surely kill you.”

“I came to take my daughter back to my lodge.  Come, let us go.”

“No,” said the girl, “not now.  They will surely chase us and kill us.  Wait until he sleeps again and I will try to get away.”  Then she filled the horn with water and went back to the buffalo.

Her husband drank a swallow of the water, and when he took the horn it made a noise.  “Ah,” he said, as he looked about, “a person is somewhere close by.”

“No one,” replied the girl, but her heart stood still.  The bull drank again.  Then he stood up on his feet and moaned and grunted, “M-m-ah-oo!  Bu-u-u!” Fearful was the sound.  Up rose the other bulls, raised their tails in the air, tossed their heads and bellowed back to him.  Then they pawed the earth, thrust their horns into it, rushed here and there, and presently, coming to the wallow, found there the poor man.  They rushed over him, trampling him with their great hoofs, thrust their horns into his body and tore him to pieces, and trampled him again.  Soon not even a piece of his body could be seen—­only the wet earth cut up by their hoofs.

Then his daughter mourned in sorrow. “Oh!  Ah!  Ni-nah-ah!  Oh!  Ah!  Ni-nah-ah!”—­Ah, my father, my father.

“Ah,” said her bull husband; “now you understand how it is that we feel.  You mourn for your father; but we have seen our fathers, mothers, and many of our relations fall over the high cliffs, to be killed for food by your people.  But now I will pity you, I will give you one chance.  If you can bring your father to life, you and he may go back to your camp.”

Then said the woman, “Ah, magpie, pity me, help me; for now I need help.  Look in the trampled mud of the wallow and see if you can find even a little piece of my father’s body and bring it to me.”

Swiftly the magpie flew to the wallow, and alighting there, walked all about, looking in every hole and even tearing up the mud with his sharp beak.  Presently he uncovered something white, and as he picked the mud from about it, he saw it was a bone, and pulling hard, he dragged it from the mud—­the joint of a man’s backbone.  Then gladly he flew back with it to the woman.

The girl put the bone on the ground and covered it with her robe and began to sing.  After she had sung she took the robe away, and there under it lay her father’s body, as if he had just died.  Once again she covered the body with the robe and sang, and this time when she took the robe away the body was breathing.  A third time she covered the body with the robe and sang, and when she again took away the robe, the body moved its arms and legs a little.  A fourth time she covered it and sang, and when she took away the robe her father stood up.