ing before the feeble
fire, starving with hunger. He had strained his ears toward the great
white forest only to hear the wail of the winds and the howl of the
wolves. But at last the yelp of the dogs was sure to be heard, and then
the half-frozen hunters would appear, dragging the deer over the crusted
snow.

III. PONTIAC'S EDUCATION

Pontiac's father was a war chief. But it did not follow that therefore
Pontiac would be a war chief. He would have to prove himself strong and
brave, a good hunter and a good warrior, or his tribe would choose some
more able leader.

Pontiac, like most small boys, took his father for his pattern. His
ambition was to be like him. But he was told early, "Be a good Indian.
Be a good Ottawan. Be true to your tribe. Be a strong man and help your
people. But don't think about being chief. The greatest brave must be
chief of the Ottawas."

Yet, Indians love glory and perhaps in the bottom of their hearts
Pontiac's father and mother hoped that he would one day be a chieftain.
At any rate they did all they could to train him to be a worthy Indian.

[Illustration: INDIAN WARRIOR]

They were sometimes very severe with him. If he was rude to strangers or
to old people; if he lost his temper and threw ashes at his comrades; if
he told a falsehood, he was beaten. He had broken the laws of the Great
Spirit, and the Great Spirit had commanded that parents should beat
their children with rods when they did wrong. The boy understood this
and he tried to take his punishment bravely that he might regain the
good will of the Great Spirit. He stood quite still and endured heavy
blows without whimpering or flinching.

He learned, too, to endure hunger and great fatigue without complaint.
He raced, and swam, and played ball, and wrestled with other boys till
his body was strong and straight and supple. He played at hunting and
war in the forest, until his eyes became so sharp that no sign of man or
beast escaped them.

But he did not depend altogether on his eyes for information. He could
find his way through a forest in the dark, where the dense foliage hid
the stars. Perhaps the wind told him the direction by the odors it
brought. He could tell what kind of trees grew about him by the feel of
their bark, by their odor, by the sound of the wind in the branches. He
did not have to think much about his course when on a journey. His feet
seemed to know the way home, or to the spring, or to the en