“Where are you going—­far from the camp?” asked the old woman.

“I do not know where I am going,” he replied; “I am in trouble, but I cannot talk about it.”

This old woman had a kind heart.  She made him moccasins—­seven pairs; and gave him also a sack of food—­pemican, dried meat, and back fat.

All alone, and with a sad heart, Scarface climbed the bluff that overlooked the valley, and when he had reached the top, turned to look back at the camp.  He wondered if he should ever see it again; if he should return to the girl and to the people.

“Pity me, O Sun!” he prayed; and turning away, he set off to look for the trail to the Sun’s lodge.

For many days he went on.  He crossed great prairies and followed up timbered rivers, and crossed the mountains.  Every day his sack of food grew lighter, but as he went along he looked for berries and roots, and sometimes he killed an animal.  These things gave him food.

One night he came to the home of a wolf.  “Hah!” said the wolf; “what are you doing so far from your home?”

“I am looking for the place where the Sun lives,” replied Scarface.  “I have been sent to speak with him.”

“I have travelled over much country,” said the wolf; “I know all the prairies, the valleys, and the mountains; but I have never seen the Sun’s home.  But wait a moment.  I know a person who is very wise, and who may be able to tell you the road.  Ask the bear.”

The next day Scarface went on again, stopping now and then to rest and to pick berries, and when night came he was at the bear’s lodge.

“Where is your home?” asked the bear.  “Why are you travelling so far alone?”

“Ah,” replied the man, “I have come to you for help.  Pity me.  Because of what that girl said to me, I am looking for the Sun.  I wish to ask him for her.”

“I do not know where he lives,” said the bear.  “I have travelled by many rivers and I know the mountains, yet I have not seen his lodge.  Farther on there is some one—­that striped face—­who knows a great deal; ask him.”

When the young man got there, the badger was in his hole.  But Scarface called to him, “Oh, cunning striped face!  I wish to speak with you.”

The badger put his head out of the hole and said, “What do you want, my brother?”

“I wish to find the Sun’s home,” said Scarface.  “I wish to speak with him.”

“I do not know where he lives,” answered the badger.  “I never travel very far.  Over there in the timber is the wolverene.  He is always travelling about, and knows many things.  Perhaps he can tell you.”

Scarface went over to the forest and looked all about for the wolverene, but could not see him; so he sat down on a log to rest.  “Alas, alas!” he cried; “wolverene, take pity on me.  My food is gone, my moccasins are worn out; I fear I shall die.”

Some one close to him said, “What is it, my brother?” and looking around, he saw the wolverene sitting there.