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Although busily occupied she kept her ears open for any strange
noises coming out of the forest； there being usually some enemies
lurking around。 She held her pan in such a position that after the
fat started to melt and quite a lot of the hot grease accumulated
in the pan； she could plainly see the tent door reflected in the
hot grease； as though she used a mirror。
When she had nearly completed her task； she heard a noise as though
some footsteps were approaching。 Instantly her heart began to beat
a tattoo on her ribs； but she sat perfectly quiet； calling all her
self…control into play to keep from making an outcry。 This smart
woman had already studied out a way in which to best this enemy； in
case an enemy it should be。 The footsteps； or noise； continued to
advance； until at last the woman saw reflected in the pan of grease
a hand slowly protruding through the tent door； and the finger
pointed； as if counting； to the sleeping father； then to each one
of the sleeping children； then to her who sat at the fire。 Little
did Mr。 Enemy suppose that the brave woman who sat so composed at
her fire； was watching every motion he was making。 The hand slowly
withdrew； and as the footsteps slowly died away； there rang out on
the still night air the deep fierce howl of the prairie wolf。
（This imitation of a prairie wolf is the signal to the war party
that an enemy has been discovered by the scout whom they have sent
out in advance）。 At once she aroused her husband and children。
Annoyed at being so unceremoniously disturbed from his deep sleep；
the husband crossly asked why she had awakened him so roughly。 The
wife explained what she had seen and heard。 She at once pinned an
old blanket around the crane's shoulders and an old piece of
buffalo hide on his head for a hat or head covering。 Heaping piles
of wood onto the fire she instructed him to run around outside of
the hut until the family returned； as they were going to see if
they could find some roots to mix up with the fat。 Hurriedly she
tied her blanket around her middle； put her baby inside of it； and
then grabbed her three year old son and packed him on her back。
The father also hurriedly packed the next two and the older boy
took care of himself。
Immediately upon leaving the tent they took three different
directions； to meet again on the high hill west of their home。 The
reflection from the fire in the tent disclosed to them the poor pet
crane running around the tent。 It looked exactly like a child with
its blanket and hat on。
Suddenly there rang out a score of shots and war whoops of the
dreaded Crow Indians。 Finding the tent deserted they disgustedly
filed off and were swallowed up in the darkness of the deep forest。
The next morning the family returned to see what had become of
their pet crane。 There； riddled to pieces； lay the poor bird who
had given up his life to save his dear friends。
WHITE PLUME
There once lived a young couple who were very happy。 The young man
was noted throughout the whole nation for his accuracy with the bow
and arrow； and was given the title of 〃Dead Shot；〃 or 〃He who never
misses his mark；〃 and the young woman； noted for her beauty； was
named Beautiful Dove。
One day a stork paid this happy couple a visit and left them a fine
big boy。 The boy cried 〃Ina； ina〃 （mother； mother）。 〃Listen to
our son；〃 said the mother； 〃he can speak； and hasn't he a sweet
voice？〃 〃Yes；〃 said the father； 〃it will not be long before he
will be able to walk。〃 He set to work making some arrows； and a
fine hickory bow for his son。 One of the arrows he painted red；
one blue； and another yellow。 The rest he left the natural color
of the wood。 When he had completed them； the mother
placed them in a fine quiver； all worked in porcupine quills； and
hung them up over where the boy slept in his fine hammock of
painted moose hide。
At times when the mother would be nursing her son； she would look
up at the bow and arrows and talk to her baby； saying： 〃My son；
hurry up and grow fast so you can use your bow and arrows。 You
will grow up to be as fine a marksman as your father。〃 The baby
would coo and stretch his little arms up towards the bright colored
quiver as though he understood every word his mother had uttered。
Time passed and the boy grew up to a good size； when one day his
father said： 〃Wife； give our son the bow and arrows so that he may
learn how to use them。〃 The father taught his son how to string
and unstring the bow； and also how to attach the arrow to the
string。 The red； blue and yellow arrows； he told the boy； were to
be used only whenever there was any extra good shooting to be done；
so the boy never used these three until he became a master of
the art。 Then he would practice on eagles and hawks； and never an
eagle or hawk continued his flight when the boy shot one of the
arrows after him。
One day the boy came running into the tent； exclaiming： 〃Mother；
mother； I have shot and killed the most beautiful bird I ever saw。〃
〃Bring it in； my son； and let me look at it。〃 He brought the bird
and upon examining it she pronounced it a different type of bird
from any she had ever seen。 Its feathers were of variegated colors
and on its head was a topknot of pure white feathers。 The father；
returning； asked the boy with which arrow he had killed the bird。
〃With the red one；〃 answered the
boy。 〃I was so anxious to secure the pretty bird that； although I
know I could have killed it with one of my common arrows； I wanted
to be certain； so I used the red one。〃 〃That is right； my son；〃
said the father。 〃When you have the least doubt of your aim；
always use one of the painted arrows； and you will never miss your
mark。〃
The parents decided to give a big feast in honor of their son
killing the strange； beautiful bird。 So a great many elderly women
were called to the tent of Pretty Dove to assist her in making
ready for the big feast。 For ten days these women cooked and
pounded beef and cherries； and got ready the choicest dishes known
to the Indians。 Of buffalo； beaver； deer； antelope； moose； bear；
quail； grouse； duck of all kinds； geese and plover meats there was
an abundance。 Fish of all kinds； and every kind of wild fruit were
cooked； and when all was in readiness； the heralds went through the
different villages； crying out： 〃Ho…po； ho…po〃 （now all； now all）；
Dead Shot and his wife； Beautiful Dove； invite all of you； young
and old； to their tepee to partake of a great feast； given by them
in honor of a great bird which their son has killed； and also to
select for their son some good name which he will bear through
life。 So all bring your cups and wooden dishes along with your
horn spoons； as there will be plenty to eat。 Come； all you council
men and chiefs； as they have also a great tent erected for you in
which you hold your council。〃
Thus crying； the herald