Part 4 (1/2)

The next day at about noon the young woman went to the top of a neighboring knoll. Coming toward her were some young men riding on their ponies. She stood up and held her hands so that they could see her. They wondered who she was, and when they were close by gazed at her closely.

”A year ago we lost a young woman; if you are she, where have you been,”

they asked.

”I have been in the wolves' village. Do not harm them,” she answered.

”We will ride back and tell the people,” they said. ”Tomorrow again at noon, we shall meet you.”

The young woman went back to the wolf village, and the next day went again to a neighboring knoll, though to a different one. Soon she saw the camp coming in a long line over the prairie. First were the warriors, then the women and tents.

The young woman's father and mother were overjoyed to see her. But when they came near her the young woman fainted, for she could not now bear the smell of human kind. When she came to herself she said:

”You must go on a buffalo hunt, my father and all the hunters. Tomorrow you must come again, bringing with you the tongues and choice pieces of the kill.”

This he promised to do; and all the men of the camp mounted their ponies and they had a great hunt. The next day they returned with their ponies laden with the buffalo meat. The young woman bade them pile the meat in a great heap between two hills which she pointed out to them. There was so much meat that the tops of the two hills were bridged level between by the meat pile. In the center of the pile the young woman planted a pole with a red flag. She then began to howl like a wolf, loudly.

In a moment the earth seemed covered with wolves. They fell greedily on the meat pile and in a short time had eaten the last sc.r.a.p.

The young woman then joined her own people.

Her husband wanted her to come and live with him again. For a long time she refused. However, at last they became reconciled.

THE RACc.o.o.n AND THE CRAWFISH

Sharp and cunning is the racc.o.o.n, say the Indians, by whom he is named Spotted Face.

A crawfish one evening wandered along a river bank, looking for something dead to feast upon. A racc.o.o.n was also out looking for something to eat. He spied the crawfish and formed a plan to catch him.

He lay down on the bank and feigned to be dead. By and by the crawfish came near by. ”Ho,” he thought, ”here is a feast indeed; but is he really dead. I will go near and pinch him with my claws and find out.”

So he went near and pinched the racc.o.o.n on the nose and then on his soft paws. The racc.o.o.n never moved. The crawfish then pinched him on the ribs and tickled him so that the racc.o.o.n could hardly keep from laughing. The crawfish at last left him. ”The racc.o.o.n is surely dead,” he thought.

And he hurried back to the crawfish village and reported his find to the chief.

All the villagers were called to go down to the feast. The chief bade the warriors and young men to paint their faces and dress in their gayest for a dance.

So they marched in a long line--first the warriors, with their weapons in hand, then the women with their babies and children--to the place where the racc.o.o.n lay. They formed a great circle about him and danced, singing:

”We shall have a great feast

”On the spotted-faced beast, with soft smooth paws:

”He is dead!

”He is dead!