I went up to him in a moment, and, catching him, pulled him over the smooth crust, far from the bull; but when I stopped and looked at him, he was still, his eyes were dull, and he did not breathe; he was dead.

I did not know what to do.  I had lost my friend, and I cried hard.  Also, I wished to be revenged on the bull for what he had done; but I did not wish to be killed.  I covered my friend with my robe, and started running fast to the camp, where I told my mother what had happened.  Soon all the men in the camp, and some of the women, had started with me, back to where the bull was.  My friend’s relations were wailing and mourning, as they came along, and soon we reached his body, and his relations carried him back to the camp.  Two of the men went to where the bull stood in the snow and killed him; and after he was dead I struck him with my bow.

Standing Alone.

Always as winter drew near, the camps came closer together, and the people began to make ready to start off on the hunt for buffalo.  By this time food was scarce, and the people needed new robes; and now that the cold weather was at hand, the hair of the buffalo was long and shaggy, so that the robes would be soft and warm, to keep out the winter cold.

I remember that before the tribe started there used to be a great ceremony, but I was too young to understand what it all meant, though with the others I watched what the old men did, and wondered at it, for it seemed very solemn.  There was a big circle about which the people stood or sat, and in the middle of the circle there were buffalo heads on the ground, and before them stood old men, who prayed and offered sacrifices, and passed their weapons and their sacred implements over the skulls, and then people danced; and not long after this the women loaded their lodges and their baggage on the horses, and put their little children into the cages on the travois, or piled them on the loaded pack horses; and then presently, in a long line, the village started off over the prairie, to look for buffalo.

Most of the way I walked or ran, playing with the other little boys, or looking through the ravines to try and find small birds, or a rabbit, or a prairie chicken.  Sometimes I rode a colt, too young yet to carry a load, or to be ridden by an older person, yet gentle enough to carry me.  In this way I learned to ride.

When buffalo were found, the young men killed them, and then the whole camp, women and children, went out to where the buffalo lay, and meat and hides were brought in to the camp, where the women made robes, and dried meat.  Food was plenty, and everybody was glad.