"You shall have your wish." Bent Horn spoke as though not wholly
pleased; but when he saw the delight his words gave Sweet Grass, his
face showed more kindness than his voice.
Two days afterwards a messenger from Bent Horn appeared in The Stone's
doorway.
"I bring you word from our chief," he told her. "The captive, Timid
Hare, is to return with me. She will serve the maiden Sweet Grass."
The Stone's ugly eyes filled with anger. Yet she did not dare refuse
the command of the chief.
"Go," she said turning to Timid Hare, who was busy at one side of the
lodge pounding wild rice into flour. "Go, you cowardly
good-for-nothing. Let the chief discover what I have borne."
Timid Hare was almost overcome with delight. To serve the beautiful
maiden, Sweet Grass! It seemed too good to be true.
Yet it must be true, for The Stone, with uplifted arms, was fairly
driving her from the lodge as she would a troublesome mosquito.
As the little girl passed through the doorway she met Black Bull
entering, with Smoke at his heels. Over the youth's eyes swept a cloud
of fear at the unusual brightness in the little girl's face.
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