The Nez Perce community had all eaten a good breakfast that morning; there had been no vegetables, to be sure, but not a soul had missed them. With plenty of fish and fresh meat they had all that red Indians expect to be provided with, and they asked for no more. Their kind of human life can be kept a-going upon a very narrow diet. The laziest brave in camp was well fed, but for all that there was a general air of dejection and despondency. Long Bear himself sat in front of his lodge, cross-legged and moody, all the forenoon: his children were away from him, on a visit to the pale-faces; his ponies were away upon another visit, he could not guess with whom; his dogs, with the solitary exception of One-eye, had all visited the camp-kettles. His only remaining consolation seemed to be his pipe, and he was rapidly and extravagantly using up all the tobacco he had obtained from Yellow Pine. The shadow of the mighty maple near him grew shorter until it had little more left to lose and could almost announce the arrival of midday. Just then there arose, at the edge of the woods, a long, ear-piercing howl, followed by such a volley of yelps and barking as can only be fired off by a very remarkable dog. One-eye was informing the camp that something great was drawing near, and was doing his best to make up for the absence of the other dogs. The Nez Perce warriors went for their weapons instinctively but somewhat listlessly, until they heard a tremendous whoop join in with the barking of One-eye and recognized the powerful voice of the Big Tongue. He could out-whoop any other brave he knew of, and he was now doing his best. He had been strolling out towards the open country when One-eye began, and had found and seized upon a sudden heap of unexpected glory. Away in advance of his command, farther and farther, had wisely trotted the long-legged, long-eared, long-absent wicked old mule. Not another quadruped was in sight when One-eye gave the alarm. The Big Tongue bounded forward as if he were charging upon a beaten enemy, and the mule did but whinny affectionately when he caught the remains of the lariat at the place where it had been gnawed asunder, and sprang triumphantly upon the back of the recaptured mule.