ion and when his father
had finished speaking, said: "Father, I am a child no more. I have
arrived at manhood. I am not so good a marksman as you, but I will go to
this suffering tribe and try to rid them of their three enemies. If this
man will rest for a few days and return to his village and inform them
of my coming, I will travel along slowly on his trail and arrive at the
village a day or two after he reaches there."

"Very well, my son," said the father, "I am sure you will succeed, as
you fear nothing, and as to your marksmanship, it is far superior to
mine, as your sight is much clearer and aim quicker than mine."

The man rested a few days and one morning started off, after having
instructed White Plume as to the trail. White Plume got together what
he would need on the trip and was ready for an early start the next
morning. That night Dead Shot and his wife sat up away into the night
instructing their son how to travel and warning him as to the different
kinds of people he must avoid in order to keep out of trouble. "Above
all," said the father, "keep a good look out for Unktomi (spider); he is
the most tricky of all, and will get you into trouble if you associate
with him."

White Plume left early, his father accompanying him for several miles.
On parting, the father's last words were: "Look out for Unktomi, my son,
he is deceitful and treacherous." "I'll look out for him, father;" so
saying he disappeared over a hill. On the way he tried his skill on
several hawks and eagles and he did not need to use his painted arrows
to kill them, but so skillful was he with the bow and arrows that he
could bring down anything that flew with his common arrows. He was
drawing near to the end of his destination when he had a large tract of
timber to pass through. When he had nearly gotten through the timber he
saw an old man sitting on a log, looking wistfully up into a big tree,
where sat a number of prairie chickens.

"Hello, grandfather, why are you sitting there looking so downhearted?"
asked White Plume. "I am nearly starved, and was just wishing some one
would shoot one of those chickens for me, so I could make a good meal on
it," said the old man. "I will shoot one for you," said the young man.
He strung his bow, placed an arrow on the string, simply seemed to raise
the arrow in the direction of the chicken (taking no aim). Twang went
out the bow, zip went the arrow and a chicken fell off the limb, only
to get ca