It took all Dick Wharton's eloquence, however, and tried Warwolf's gratitude for his deliverance to the uttermost, before he could be persuaded not to pursue the five unhappy Crows that night. It was a clear waste of the good gifts of Providence, he thought, and, though Dick Wharton might be a good fellow and a mighty warrior for a whiteskin, he could not help feeling that he was something quite out of the common as a fool. He followed his old friend Wharton back to camp, however, and there dressed his wounds, and gave his deliverers some account of what had been happening lately in Bull Pine Park and its neighbourhood. Needless to say that for a night or so, at any rate, the three boys and the old foreman, with Warwolf for an ally, had no fear of attack from the disarmed Crows. Still they kept a good look-out, from habit. CHAPTER XX LONE MOUNTAIN When night closed in round the little camp in the forest, Warwolf lit the pipe of peace, and after gravely puffing away in silence for a few minutes began to tell his story. 'It was when this moon was young, my brother, when it was no more than a thin silver boat sailing through the dark night, that Hilcomax, the medicine-man of the Blackfeet, warned the chiefs in council of great events about to happen. Hilcomax the healer had been away from the camp of his tribe for many suns, collecting herbs and preparing great medicine against Okeeheedee, the evil one, when one morning he saw the sky darkened by great wings, and, looking up, he saw the destroyer pass over him far, far up among the shuddering clouds of heaven. Slowly the great wings came down until their shadow darkened the forest, and Hilcomax saw them glide towards the burial-grounds of our fathers on the Lone Mountain. 'In the darkness of night Hilcomax crept back towards the home of his people, and warned the chiefs in council of what he had seen.' Here Warwolf paused for a moment or two, blowing out a great cloud of blue smoke from his pipe, and watching it thoughtfully as it melted away in the night air. 'Youth, my brothers,' he continued, 'is light as that smoke, and every wind carries it away. I would not listen to the medicine-man's warnings, but came to the foot of the "Lone Mountain," trapping. For my folly the Crows caught me--the white-hearted, hare-lipped chief of the Crows--and would have taken me to his squaws to torture, had not my brothers rescued me. He, too, has seen the bird which hovers over the graves of the Blackfeet, and his woman's heart froze at the sight.' 'And has the chief seen this bird himself?' asked Dick Wharton. 'Warwolf has seen it,' he replied. 'And that is about all he means to tell you,' muttered Snap aside, and Snap was right.