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shall wear it."
Suiting his action to his words, he drew out a bag from a hollow

tree and on opening it, drew out a fine buckskin shirt (tanned
white as snow), worked with porcupine quills. Also a pair of red

leggings worked with beads. Moccasins worked with colored hair.
A fine otter skin robe. White weasel skins to intertwine

with his beautiful long black locks. A magnificent center eagle
feather. A rawhide covered bow, accompanied by a quiver full of

flint arrowheads.
The rabbit, having dressed his son in all the latest finery, sat

back and gazed long and lovingly at his handsome son.
Instinctively Rabbit felt that his son had been sent him for the

purpose of being instrumental in the downfall of Mr. Bear. Events
will show.

The morning following the arrival of Rabbit's son, Mr. Bear again
presents himself at the door, crying out: "You lazy, ugly rabbit,

get up and come out here. I want you to shoot some more buffalo
for me."

"Who is this, who speaks so insultingly to you, father?" asked the
son.

"It is a bear who lives near here, and makes me kill buffalo for
his family, and he won't let me take even one little drop of blood

from the killing, and consequently, my son, I have nothing in my
house for you to eat."

The young man was anxious to meet Mr. Bear but Rabbit advised him
to wait a little until he and Bear had gone to the hunt. So the

son obeyed, and when he thought it time that the killing was done,
he started out and arrived on the scene just as Mr. Bear was about

to proceed with his butchering.
Seeing a strange shadow on the ground beside him, Mr. Bear looked

up and gazed into the fearless eyes of rabbit's handsome son.
"Who is this?" asked Mr. Bear of poor little Rabbit.

"I don't know," answered Rabbit.
"Who are you?" asked the bear of Rabbit's son. "Where did you come

from?"
The rabbit's son not replying, the bear spoke thus to him: "Get out

of here, and get out quick, too."
At this speech the rabbit's son became angered, and fastened an

arrow to his bow and drove the arrow through the bear's heart.
Then he turned on Mrs. Bear and served her likewise. During the

melee, Rabbit shouted: "My son, my son, don't kill the two
youngest. The baby has kept me from starving and the other one is

good and kind to his baby brother."
So the three older brothers who were unkind to their baby brother

met a similar fate to that of their selfish parents.
This (the story goes) is the reason that bears travel only in

pairs.
THE BRAVE WHO WENT ON THE WARPATH

ALONE AND WON THE NAME OF
THE LONE WARRIOR

There was once a young man whose parents were not overburdened with
the riches of this world, and consequently could not dress their

only son in as rich a costume as the other young men of the tribe,
and on account of not being so richly clad as they, he was

looked down upon and shunned by them. He was never invited to take
part in any of their sports; nor was he ever asked to join any of

the war parties.
In the village lived an old man with an only daughter. Like the

other family, they were poor, but the daughter was the belle of the
tribe. She was the most sought after by the young men of the

village, and warriors from tribes far distant came to press their
suit at winning her for their bride. All to no purpose; she had

the same answer for them as she had for the young men of the
village.

The poor young man was also very handsome despite his poor clothes,
but having never killed an enemy nor brought home any enemies'

horses he was not (according to Indian rules) allowed to make love
to any young or old woman. He tried in vain to join some of the

war parties, that he might get the chance to win his spurs as a
warrior. To all his pleadings, came the same answer: "You are not

fit to join a war party. You have no horses, and if you should get
killed our tribe would be laughed at and be made fun of as you have

such poor clothes, and we don't want the enemy to know that we have
any one of our tribe who dresses so poorly as you do."

Again, and again, he tried different parties, only to be made fun
of and insulted.

One night he sat in the poor tepee of his parents. He was in deep
study and had nothing to say. His father, noticing his melancholy

mood, asked him what had happened to cause him to be so quiet, as
he was always of a jolly disposition. The son answered and said:

"Father, I am going on the warpath alone. In vain I have tried to
be a member of one of the war parties. To all of my pleadings I

have got nothing but insults in return."
"But my son, you have no gun nor ammunition. Where can you get any

and how can you get it? We have nothing to buy one for you with,"
said the father.

"I don't need any weapons. I am going to bring back some of the
enemies' horses, and I don't need a gun for that."

Early the next morning (regardless of the old couple's pleadings
not to go unarmed) the young man left the village and headed

northwest, the direction always taken by the war parties.
For ten days he traveled without seeing any signs of a camp. The

evening of the tenth day, he reached a very high butte, thickly
wooded at the summit. He ascended this butte, and as he sat there

between two large boulders, watching the beautiful rays of the
setting sun, he was suddenly startled to hear the neigh of a horse.

Looking down into the beautiful valley which was threaded by a
beautiful creek fringed with timber, he noticed close to the base

of the butte upon which he sat, a large drove of horses grazing
peacefully and quietly. Looking closer, he noticed at a little

distance from the main drove, a horse with a saddle on his back.
This was the one that had neighed, as the drove drifted further

away from him. He was tied by a long lariat to a large sage bush.
Where could the rider be, he said to himself. As if in answer to

his question, there appeared not more than twenty paces from him a
middle aged man coming up through a deep ravine. The man was

evidently in search of some kind of game, as he held his gun in
readiness for instant use, and kept his eyes directed at every

crevice and clump of bush. So intent was he on locating the game
he was trailing, that he never noticed the young man who sat like

a statue not twenty paces away. Slowly and cautiously the man
approached, and when he had advanced to within a few paces of the

young man he stopped and turning around, stood looking down into
the valley. This was the only chance that our brave young friend

had. Being unarmed, he would stand no show if the enemy ever got
a glimpse of him. Slowly and noiselessly he drew his hunting knife

(which his father had given him on his departure from home) and
holding it securely in his right hand, gathered himself and gave a

leap which landed him upon the unsuspecting enemy's shoulders. The
force with which he landed on the enemy caused him (the enemy) to

lose his hold on his gun, and it went rattling down into the chasm,
forty feet below.

Down they came together, the young man on top. No sooner had they
struck the ground than the enemy had out his knife, and then

commenced a hand to hand duel. The enemy, having more experience,
was getting the best of our young friend. Already our young friend

had two ugly cuts, one across his chest and the other through his
forearm.

He was becoming weak from the loss of blood, and could not stand
the killing pace much longer. Summoning all his strength for one

more trial to overcome his antagonist, he rushed him toward the
chasm, and in his hurry to get away from this fierce attack, the

enemy stepped back one step too far, and down they both went into
the chasm. Interlocked in each other's arms, the young man drove

his knife into the enemy's side and when they struck the bottom the
enemy relaxed his hold and straightened out stiff and dead.

Securing his scalp and gun, the young man proceeded down to where
the horse was tied to the sage bush, and then gathering the drove

of horses proceeded on his return to his own village. Being
wounded severely he had to ride very slowly. All the long hours of

the night he drove the horses towards his home village.
In the meantime, those at the enemies' camp wondered at the long

absence of the herder who was watching their drove of horses, and
finally seven young men went to search for the missing herder. All

night long they searched the hillsides for the horses and herder,
and when it had grown light enough in the morning they saw by the

ground where there had been a fierce struggle.
Following the tracks in the sand and leaves, they came to the chasm

where the combatants had fallen over, and there, lying on his back
staring up at them in death, was their herder. They hastened to

the camp and told what they had found. Immediately the warriors
mounted their war ponies (these ponies are never turned loose, but

kept tied close to the tepee of the owner), and striking the trail
of the herd driven off by our young friend, they urged forth their

ponies and were soon far from their camp on the trail of our young
friend. All day long they traveled on his trail, and just as the

sun was sinking they caught sight of him driving the drove ahead
over a high hill. Again they urged forth their tired ponies. The

young man, looking back along the trail, saw some dark objects
coming along, and, catching a fresh horse, drove the rest ahead at

a great rate. Again all night he drove them, and when daylight
came he looked back (from a high butte) over his trail and saw

coming over a distant raise, two horsemen. These two undoubtedly
rode the best ponies, as he saw nothing of the others. Driving the

horses into a thick belt of timber, he concealed himself close to
the trail made by the drove of horses, and lay in ambush for the

two daring horsemen who had followed him so far. Finally they
appeared on the butte from where he had looked back and saw them

following him. For a long time they sat there scouring the country
before them in hopes that they might see some signs of their stolen

horses. Nothing could they see. Had they but known, their horses
were but a few hundred yards from them, but the thick timber

securely hid them from view. Finally one of them arose and pointed
to the timber. Then leaving his horse in charge of his friend, he

descended the butte and followed the trail of the drove to where
they had entered the timber. Little did he think that he was

standing on the brink of eternity. The young man hiding not more
than a hundred yards from him could have shot him there where he

stood, but wanting to play fair, he stepped into sight. When he
did, the enemy took quick aim and fired. He was too hasty. Had he

taken more careful aim he might have killed our young friend, but
his bullet whizzed harmlessly over the young man's head and buried

itself in a tree. The young man took good aim and fired. The
enemy threw up both hands and fell forward on his face. The other

one on the hill, seeing his friend killed, hastily mounted his
horse and leading his friend's horse, made rapidly off down the

butte in the direction from whence he had come. Waiting for some
time to be sure the one who was alive did not come up and take a

shot at him, he finally advanced upon the fallen enemy and securing
his gun, ammunition and scalp, went to his horse and drove the herd

on through the woods and crossing a long flat prairie, ascended a
long chain of hills and sat looking back along his trail in search

of any of the enemy who might continue to follow him.
Thus he sat until the long shadows of the hills reminded him that

it would soon be sunset, and as he must get some sleep, he wanted
to find some creek bend where he could drive the bunch of ponies

and feel safe as to their not straying off during the night. He
found a good place for the herd, and catching a fresh horse, he

picketed him close to where he was going to sleep, and wrapping
himself in his blanket, was soon fast asleep. So tired and sleepy

was he that a heavy rain which had come up, during the night,


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