ame back very thin and sick,
coughing nearly all night, instead of sleeping. He believed himself
dying.

The wise old Medicine Man of his tribe said, "You need the Medicine of
the Sky." He took it and got quite well and strong.

Another Indian, who had gone to visit with a distant tribe of red men,
came back with some sickness on his skin that made it very sore. It was
far worse than Poison Ivy, for it began to eat into his flesh. The
Medicine Man said, "Sky Medicine will cure you." And it did.

One day a white man, a trader, came with chest protectors to sell to the
Indians. He was sure they needed them, because he did; and, although so
well wrapped up, he was always cold. He suffered whenever the wind blew.
The old Medicine Man said, "We don't need your chest pads, and you would
not if you took the Sky Medicine." So the trader tried it, and by and
by, to his surprise and joy, no matter whether it was hot or cold
outdoors, he was comfortable.

This man had a friend who was a learned professor in a college, and he
told him about the great thing he had learned from the old Indian. The
professor was not old, but he was very sick and feeble in body. He could
not sleep nights. His hair was falling out, and his mind filled with
gloomy thoughts. The whole world seemed dark to him. He knew it was a
kind of disease, and he went away out West to see his friend. Then he
met the Medicine Man and said to him, "Can you help me?"

The wise old Indian said, "Oh, white man, where do you spend your days?"

"I spend them at my desk, in my study, or in the classroom."

"Yes, and your nights?"

"In my study among my books."

"And where do you sleep?"

"I don't sleep much, though I have a comfortable bed."

"In the house?"

"Yes, of course."

"Listen, then, O foolish white man. The Great Spirit set Big Medicine in
the sky to cure our ills. And you hide from it day and night. What do
you expect but evil? This do and be saved. Take the Sky Medicine in
measure of your strength."

He did so and it saved him. His strength came back. His cheeks grew
ruddy, his hands grew steady, his hair ceased falling out, he slept like
a baby. He was happy.

Now what is the Sky Medicine? It is the glorious sunlight, that cures so
many human ills. We ask every Woodcrafter to hold on to its blessings.

* * * * *

And in this wise, O Guide, you must give it to the little ones. Make it
an honourable exploit to be