When he came opposite he seemed undecided what to do next. We did not give him time to make up his mind. Pitamakan let fly an arrow, while I stood ready to shoot if need be. But Pitamakan's shaft sped true; the old billy flinched and humped himself, threw up his head with a pitiful, silly expression of surprise, and dropped in his tracks. We waded back into the trail and examined our prize; such heavy, thick, long hair and fleece I had never seen on any other animal. At the base of the sharp horns were black, warty, rubber-like excrescences. "Smell them!" Pitamakan bade me, and I did. They gave off an exceedingly rank odor of musk.
Pitamakan now pulled out the arrow; it had evidently pierced the heart. He proposed that we go after the band and kill as many as possible; we needed at least four large, or six small skins for a good bed-robe.
He held up his hand, and I could see his eyes grow big as if from fear. "What is it?" I asked.
He did not answer, but stood anxiously looking this way and that, and soon I, too, heard the faint, remote droning noise that had alarmed him. We looked at the mountain above us, and at others near and far, but there was nowhere any sign of an avalanche.
The droning noise became louder and deeper, filling us with dread all the more poignant because it was impossible to determine the cause.
"The old medicine-men told the truth!" said Pitamakan. "These mountains are no place for the Blackfeet. The gods that dwell here are not our gods, and they do strange and cruel things to us plains people when they get the chance."
I had nothing to say. We listened; the droning grew louder; it seemed all about us, and yet we could see nothing unusual.
"Come on! Let's get away from here!" Pitamakan cried.
"Where shall we go?" I asked. "This noise seems to come from everywhere and nowhere."
I looked up at the top of the mountain which we were on, and saw a long streak of snow extending eastward from it like an immense pennant.
"Look! It is nothing but the wind that is making that noise!" I exclaimed. "See how it is driving the snow up there!"
"Yes," Pitamakan agreed. "But listen. The sound of its blowing does not come from there any more than from elsewhere. It comes from every direction up there in the blue."