As Timid Hare went through the village one morning--it was the last one
before the visitors should arrive--she met Black Bull. It was the
first time she had seen him since she had gone from his lodge. As she
ran towards him he did not seem glad to see her. He simply looked at
her pitifully.
"What is the matter, Black Bull? Is there trouble? Tell me. Everyone
else is happy over the coming good time." Timid Hare spoke fast.
"My dog," he said brokenly. "My one friend must die. I must give him
as a sacrifice, so my mother has said." The poor fellow began to cry.
"Your dear Smoke! I am so sorry for you, Black Bull." Timid Hare's
own eyes filled with tears. "So sorry," she repeated.
"I will try to save him, though." The deformed youth looked wildly
about him as he spoke, as though he feared some one besides Timid Hare
would hear him. Then, without waiting for her to reply, he went off in
the direction of the spring, beyond which was a sharp bluff. Below
this bluff flowed a stream of water which in the autumn was deep--so
deep that any one could drown in it easily.
"I wonder what Black Bull meant when he said he would try to save
Smoke," thought Timid Hare, as she stood watching.
Pages:
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47