And so the pack was destroyed and soon the game returned once again to the hunting ground of the Mohawk and once again all was peaceful and happy along the Osage River.
This story was told to the author by Jim Nutley of the Canadian Forest Ranger Service.
The Cree were plains Indians. Today their village was full of activity. A hunting party had just returned after a very successful hunt. The braves were already around the great council fire, telling of their exploits. Among these warriors was Slow Tongue, whose bravery and courage among the Cree was never questioned.
When all the celebrating was over, Slow Tongue returned to his tepee and his family. His young son, Swift Hawk, had waited up for him and, with pride in his eyes, he looked up into his father’s face and said, “I am very proud to have you for my father.”
“My young son, it is long past your bedtime and you should have closed your ears to the night noises of the prairie many hours ago. But I must also say that I am proud to have you as a son and tomorrow we shall talk and I shall tell you all about the hunt.” Slow Tongue turned to leave his son’s side when he heard a noise at the entrance of his tepee.
“Slow Tongue,” a voice called quietly, “it is I, Seeing Bear. Come, I must speak with you.”
Slow Tongue left the tepee. “Why do you call me from my tepee so late in the night, Sleeping Bear,” he asked. “I am tired and my buffalo robe beckons to me to come and wrap myself in its warm folds, for my body aches.”
“Look, Slow Tongue! Look to the north! At first I thought the heat of the day had made me see things that do not exist. But now I am sure it has not. Look and tell me what you see.”
Slow Tongue turned his head to the north and gazed out into the darkness of the night. Far in the distance he saw a red glow which disappeared, appeared again, and disappeared many times.
“It is a message, Seeing Bear. The fire signal tells that the tribes of the plains are gathering for the Sun Dance. Truly this is great news. Tomorrow we must break camp and leave for the northern meadow of the Blue Star, for it is there that the great celebrations will be held. You go to the southern part of the village and I will go to the northern part, and we will spread the word. It is late and many are asleep, but surely this is news for which they will be glad to be awakened.”