When night came some one shouted out, calling people to a feast and saying, “Listen, listen, Wolf, you are to eat; enter with your friend.”

“We are invited,” said the chief Wolf to his new friend, and together they went to the lodge from which the call came.

Within the lodge the fire burned brightly, and seated around it were many men, the old and wise of the Raven band.  On the lodge lining, hanging behind the seats, were the paintings of many great deeds.  Food was placed before the guests—­pemican and berries and dried back fat—­and after they had eaten the pipe was lighted and passed around the circle.  Then the Raven chief spoke and said, “Now, Wolf, I am going to give our new friend a present.  What do you think of that?”

“It shall be as you say,” replied the Wolf; “our new friend will be glad.”

From a long parfleche sack the Raven chief took a slender stick, beautifully ornamented with many-colored feathers.  To the end of the stick was tied the skin of a raven—­head, wings, feet, and tail.

“We,” said the Raven chief, “are those who carry the raven (M[)a]s-to-p[=a]h’-t[)a]-k[=i]ks).  Of all the fliers, of all the birds, what one is so smart as the raven?  None.  The raven’s eyes are sharp, his wings are strong.  He is a great hunter and never hungry.  Far off on the prairie he sees his food, or if it is deep hidden in the forest it does not escape him.  This is our song and our dance.”

When he had finished singing and dancing he placed the stick in the sack and gave it to the man and said, “Take it with you, and when you have returned to your people you shall say, ’Now there are already the Bulls, and he who is the Raven chief said, “There shall be more.  There shall be the All Friends ([=I]k[)u]n-[)u]h’-k[=a]h-ts[)i]), so that the people may live, and of the All Friends shall be the Raven Bearers."’ You shall call a council of the chiefs and wise old men, and they shall choose the persons who are to belong to the society.  Teach them the song and the dance, and give them the medicine.  It shall be theirs forever.”

Soon they heard another person shouting out the feast call, and, going, they entered the lodge of the chief of the Kit-Foxes (S[)i]n’-o-pah).  Here, too, old men had gathered.  After they had eaten of the food set before them, the chief said, “Those among whom you have just come are generous.  They do not look carefully at the things they have, but give to the stranger and pity the poor.  The kit-fox is a little animal, but what one is smarter?  None.  His hair is like the dead grass of the prairie; his eyes are keen; his feet make no noise when he walks; his brain is cunning.  His ears receive the far-off sound.  Here is our medicine.  Take it.”  He gave the man the stick.  It was long, crooked at one end, wound with fur, and tied here and there with eagle feathers.  At the end was a kit-fox skin.  Again the chief spoke and said, “Listen to our song.  Do not forget it, and the dance, too, you must remember.  When you reach home teach them to the people.”  He sang and danced.  Then presently his guests departed.