“I can’t stand it,” Sandy cried. “I want to get there and have it over with.”
“I know just how you feel,” sympathized Dick. “I want to smell powder too. But I believe the chief made a wise move, at that. What do you think, Toma?”
Toma’s dark face, lighted by the fire, brightened. “Him wise chief,” said Toma. “My father know him long ago when they hunt on Saskatchewan River.”
“Tell us a story about the old days, Toma,” Dick pleaded, as he squatted by the fire, “—an Indian story.”
The young guide seemed to be looking far away as he stared into the glowing coals. Outside, the war drums and the cries of the dancing warriors echoed in the forest aisles.
“I tell story my father tell me long ago, when I little boy,” Toma began. “Big medicine man tell my father. It is story of Saskatchewan River and Great Bear, mighty hunter of the Crees.
“Long ago, by Saskatchewan live big tribe. One hunter, one Great Bear, he mightier than all big hunters. Him not like Saskatchewan country. Him want travel far, far—where sun goes down.
“Big medicine man, one Two-Horns-in-the-Bone not want lose Great Bear, great hunter. Him try keep Great Bear home. But Great Bear don’t care. He go anyway, he say.
“Then Great Bear get ready go far away. When start, Two-Horns-in-the-Bone go ’long little way with Great Bear, so Great Spirit be with him in far lands. They stop on bank of Saskatchewan, mighty river. Great Bear, lie thirsty. He kneel down, fill up with water. Two-Horns-in-the-Bone make sign over him, big medicine sign. When Great Bear get up, medicine man say:
“‘They who drink waters of Saskatchewan shall return before they die.’
“Great Bear, him laugh. Him think Two-Horns-in-the-Bone make fun. Great Bear young, strong; he laugh at Great Spirit, like him laugh at grizzly. Him leap in Saskatchewan an’ swim across. Him wave spear goodbye to medicine man, an’ turn back on Saskatchewan.
“Two-Horns-in-the-Bone go back to tepee. Say nothing. Him very wise.
“Many moons pass. Great Bear go far, far away—to Big Sea, to desert, to other side of sunset. He fight many battles, always win.
“Medicine man by Saskatchewan, him wait an’ smoke long pipe. Twenty winters gone by, then spring come. Two-Horns-in-the-Bone walk down to Saskatchewan. He wait all day. When sunset come he see old man walking. Old man all bent over, white hair, hobble on stick. Two-Horns-in-the-Bone watch. Old man come down to edge of water. Him kneel down and drink. Then he go back and lay down.