There was not a warrior in the village who was as strong as he, and already he surpassed them all in endurance; none was so fleet of foot nor so tireless.

His face and hair darkened in the wind and sun, his last vestige of civilized garb had disappeared long ago, and he was clothed wholly in deerskin.

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.