Wherever Ma-min’ went her mother or some woman of the family went with her, so Red Robe could never speak to her, but he was often near by.  One day, when she was gathering wood for the lodge, and her companion was out of sight behind some willow bushes some distance away, Red Robe had a chance to tell Ma-min’ what was in his heart.  He walked up to her and took her hands in his, and she did not try to draw them away.  He said to her, “I love you; I cannot remember a time when I saw you that my heart did not beat faster.  I am poor, very poor, and it is useless to ask your father to let me marry you, for he will not consent; but there is another way, and if you love me, you will do what I ask.  Let us go from here—­far away.  We will find some tribe that will be kind to us, and even if we fail in that we can live in some way.  Now, if you love me, and I hope you do, you will come.”

“Ai,” replied Ma-min’, “I do love you; only you.  All the other young men pass before me as shadows.  I scarcely see them, but I cannot do what you ask.  I cannot go away and leave my mother to mourn; she who loves me so well.  Let us wait a little.  Go to war.  Do something great and brave.  Then perhaps you will not uselessly ask my father to give me to you.”

In vain Red Robe tried to persuade the girl to do as he wished.  She was kind; she threw her arms about him and kissed him and cried, but she would not run away to leave her mother to sorrow, to be beaten by her father, who would blame the poor woman for all the disgrace; and so, too soon, they parted, for they heard her companion coming—­the sound of her heavy footsteps.

Three Bulls, chief of the camp, was a great man.  He had a fierce temper, and when he spoke, people hurried to do what he ordered, for they feared him.  He never talked loud nor called any one by an ill name.  When any one displeased him or refused to do what he said he just smiled and then killed the person.  He was brave.  In battle with enemies he was the equal of twenty men, rushing here, there, into the thickest of the fights, and killing—­always with that silent, terrible smile on his face.  Because he was such a great warrior, and also because he was generous, helping the poor, feasting any who came to his lodge, he was the head chief of the Blackfeet.

Three Bulls had several wives and many children, some of them grown and married.  Gray hairs were now many in his head.  His face wrinkles showed that old age was not far distant.  No one supposed that he would ever take another wife; so when the news spread through the camp that he had asked the old medicine man for his daughter Ma-min’, every one was surprised.  When Red Robe heard the news his heart nearly broke.  The old medicine man agreed to let the chief have the girl.  He dared not refuse, nor did he wish to, for many good presents were to be given him in three days’ time.  When that was done, he told his daughter, she would be taken to the chief’s lodge; let her prepare for the change.