some branches in the distance.  He rushed frantically to the spot, but his career was quickly stopped by an object on the ground.  It was the torn and now bloody mantle of his beloved.  The mystery was in part explained—­she had retired to this secluded spot to offer up a prayer to the Great Spirit for their safe deliverance, and, as was her custom, had taken off her mantle and spread it on the earth.  On this she had knelt, when a grizzly bear, that terrible beast of the Rocky Mountains, had rushed upon her and killed her before she could utter a second cry.  His huge paws were deeply imprinted on the sand, and the trail along which he had dragged his victim was distinctly visible.  Souk, taking the rent garment, plunged into the brushwood.

He crossed the thicket in several directions, but in vain; it was dark, and he could not follow the trail.  He returned to the camp in a frame of mind bordering on despair.  Raising his hand to heaven, he swore by the great Wa-con Ton-ka to track the beast to his den and slay him, or perish in the conflict.  It seemed to him an age before the light appeared, but at length the gray streamers began to streak the east, and Souk was on the trail.  Again and again he lost it, but the growing light enabled him to find it, and he pushed on.  He found the lair half a mile out, where the beast had eaten a part of his beloved, and, as he looked at the blood-stains on the ground, his brain seemed about to burst from his skull.  Pieces of garments were left on some of the bushes where the bear had dragged the body along.  Far up into the mountains Souk followed the trail, but at length lost it among the rocks.  All day he hunted for it in vain, and when night came he returned to his camp.  He expected the enemy had come up during his absence, but he found the horses where he had left them, and the camp undisturbed.  How he wished the Brules would come and kill him.  He cursed himself, and wished to die, but could not.  Then he slept, how long he knew not, but the sun was far up in the heavens and shining brightly when he awoke.

Mounting one of the horses, and leading the other, he started at full speed.  He wished to leave as quickly as possible, and forever, the cursed spot that had witnessed the destruction of all his earthly happiness.  It afforded him some relief to ride fast, and he dashed onward, he neither knew nor cared where.  His well-trained steed took the road for him, and as the evening shadows were beginning to creep over the valley, he saw far ahead the teepees of his father’s village.  He lashed his horse and rode like a madman into the town.  His faithful warriors had returned, but they hardly knew their beloved young chief, so changed was he.  At the door of his father’s lodge his brave horse fell dead, and Souk rolled over on the ground insensible.

He was carefully lifted up and laid on his own bed, where for many days he remained