While Will did not learn to shoot the arrows as fast as the Indians, he was soon a better marksman at long range than anybody else in the village. Then Xingudan gave him the most beautiful bow he had ever seen. It was made of pieces of elkhorn that had been wrapped minutely and as tightly as possible with the fresh intestines of a deer. When the intestines dried the bow became to all purposes a single piece of powerful horn, yet with the flexibility and elasticity that one horn did not have. It was unbreakable, it did not suffer from weather, and it had among the Sioux the same value that a jewel of great price has among white people. Will knew that old Xingudan considered it a full equivalent for his repeating rifle, revolver and field glasses that the old chief kept in his lodge. Will and the Crane, otherwise Pehansan, formed a warm friendship, and he found a similar friend in Roka, the stalwart warrior who had come with the order for his death by torture. Soon after he received the gift of the great bow the three decided on a hunting expedition toward the upper end of the valley, all traveling on snowshoes. "Beware of the wild beasts, my son," said Inmutanka. "We have heard nothing of them for a week past," said Will. "The greater reason to expect them, because the word has been sent over a thousand miles of snow fields that we are here to be eaten. I know you are brave, watchful and quick, but take many arrows and see that Roka and Pehansan do the same." Will was gay and light of heart, but he obeyed the injunction of Inmutanka and filled the quiver. He saw that Roka and Pehansan had an abundance, also, and the three, wrapped in furs, departed on their snowshoes. The Indians had not gone much toward the upper end of the valley. The slopes were less precipitous there and the forest heavier, giving better hiding for the great wild beasts, and hence making them much more dangerous. But with his magnificent new bow on his shoulder and his stout comrades beside him Will was not afraid. The cold was less intense than it had been for some time and the exercise of walking with the snowshoes gave them plenty of warmth. The snow itself, which had now begun to soften at the surface, lay to a depth of about three feet, hiding the river save where the Indians had cut holes through ice and snow to capture fish. Pehansan, an inveterate hunter who would willingly have passed a thousand years of good life in such pursuits, had an idea that elk might be found in some of the secluded alcoves to the north. His mind was full of such thoughts, but Will, exhilarated by motion, was looking at the mountain tops which, like vast white pillars, were supporting a sky of glittering blue. He swept his hand in a wide gesture. "It's a fit place up there for Manitou to live," he said. "Beyond the blue the hunting grounds go on forever," said Pehansan.