Weary and heartsick, he came in sight of the caves. But who was that running up the slope to meet him? Surely it could not be--yes, it was! It was dear little Antelope, holding up her baby hands and shouting his name. Down the hill he ran, forgetting his aching limbs and heavy heart, and how both laughed and shouted for joy as he caught his lost sister up and put her on his shoulder. Together thus, they came to the cave where Stitcher sat, her brown hands for once idle as she leaned wearily against the side of a great rock. She looked very worn and thin, but smiled gladly when Bolo came up and put his arm about her shoulders.