at among his people.

"You must endeavor to equal your father and grandfather," she went on.
"They were warriors and feast-makers. But it is not the poor hunter who
makes many feasts. Do you not remember the 'Legend of the Feast-Maker,'
who gave forty feasts in twelve moons? And have you forgotten the story
of the warrior who sought the will of the Great Mystery? To-day you
will make your first offering to him."

The concluding sentence fairly dilated the eyes of the young hunter,
for he felt that a great event was about to occur, in which he would be
the principal actor. But Uncheedah resumed her speech.

"You must give up one of your belongings--whichever is dearest to
you--for this is to be a sacrificial offering."

This somewhat confused the boy; not that he was selfish, but rather
uncertain as to what would be the most appropriate thing to give. Then,
too, he supposed that his grandmother referred to his ornaments and
playthings only. So he volunteered:

"I can give up my best bow and arrows, and all the paints I have,
and--and my bear's claws necklace, grandmother!"

"Are these the things dearest to you?" she demanded.

"Not the bow and arrows, but the paints will be very hard to get, for
there are no white people near; and the necklace--it is not easy to get
one like it again. I will also give up my otter-skin head-dress, if you
think that it not enough."

"But think, my boy, you have not yet mentioned the thing that will be a
pleasant offering to the Great Mystery."

The boy looked into the woman's face with a puzzled expression.

"I have nothing else as good as those things I have named, grandmother,
unless it is my spotted pony; and I am sure that the Great Mystery will
not require a little boy to make him so large a gift. Besides, my uncle
gave three otter-skins and five eagle-feathers for him and I promised
to keep him a long while, if the Blackfeet or the Crows do not steal
him."

Uncheedah was not fully satisfied with the boy's free offerings.
Perhaps it had not occurred to him what she really wanted. But
Uncheedah knew where his affection was vested. His faithful dog, his
pet and companion--Hakadah was almost inseparable from the loving
beast.

She was sure that it would be difficult to obtain his consent to
sacrifice the animal, but she ventured upon a final appeal.

"You must remember," she said, "that in this offering you will call
upon him who looks at you from every creation. In the w