His features grew stronger and keener and
the eyes were incessantly watchful, roving hither and thither, covering
every point within range. It would have taken more than a casual glance
now to discover that he was white.
The winter deepened. The snow was continuous, fierce blasts blew in from
the distant western plains and even searched out their sheltered valley.
The old men and the women shivered in the lodges, but sparkling young
blood and tireless action kept the boy warm and flourishing through it
all. Game grew scarce about them and the hunters went far westward in
search of the buffalo.
Henry was with the party that traveled farthest toward the setting sun,
and it was long before they returned. Winter was at its height and when
they came out of the forest into the waving open stretches which are the
Great Plains all things were hidden by the snow.
Henry from the summit of a little hill saw before him an expanse as
mighty as the sea, and like it in many of its aspects. They told him
that it rolled away to the westward, no man knew how far, as none of
them had ever come to the end of it.
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