e camp to be pitched, that his little
army might rest awhile and repair their moccasins and clothing.
Sentinels were stationed so as to guard against surprise. Hunters were
sent forth, and returned laden with game.

Night came on. There was no moon; and it was dark, although the stars
shone brightly. A fire blazed in the open air, and the men whose duty
it was to dress and cook the meat, were moving about the burning logs;
while others sat mending their moccasins by the firelight, listening
to stories of battles, marvellous escapes, and strange adventures.

Supper was cooked, and the meat was piled on freshly cut grass spread
upon the ground; and near by were set the pots of broth and the wooden
bowls and horn spoons. The Leader was called to perform the usual
sacred rites observed before the serving of food; and all the warriors
gathered around the fire, each one eager for his portion of the meal.
At a signal from the Leader every man bowed his head, and there was
silence. Not a breath of air was stirring. Now and then could be heard
the far-off dismal howl of the grey wolf or the cry of a strange bird
startled from its nest by a coyote. Save from these and the crackling
of the fire there was stillness in all the surroundings. The warriors
had made their silent petitions to Wako_n_'-da, the power that moves
all things. The Leader lifted his head. Then from the pile of meat he
took a bit and raised it toward the sky, as an offering to that
mysterious power, when suddenly the stillness was broken and the
ceremony interrupted by a clear voice bursting into song, the echoes
in the hills and valleys catching and repeating the strain.

Each warrior involuntarily grasped his bow. The Leader, ever keen and
alert, exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, "The fire! the fire!"
Immediately many hands were rubbing the flaming wood into the earth.
Commands were hastily given by the Leader; and the warriors, with
palpitating hearts, started out to form a ring around the spot whence
the thrilling sounds came. The voice sang on. The ring grew smaller
and smaller until in an open space the shadowy form of a tree loomed
up before the advancing warriors. No escape was now possible for the
singer, yet the song went on without hesitancy. The tree was now
clearly visible. The song came to a close, and the echo died away in
the distance. The men kept on toward the tree, with bows drawn and
arrows strung. No form was seen running around inside the ri