  It was a dark winter evening in the small Iroquois village. The cries of the wolf echoed in the forest as Great Eagle, war leader of the Iroquois, was preparing for bed. He stopped to take a last look for the night at his young son, Crying Eagle, and smiled at his boy who slept so peacefully. As he pulled the warm robe up around his son’s neck to keep the cold from seeping in and disturbing his sleep, he thought to himself, “How lucky I am to have been blessed with such a son. Truly, he will be a leader among his people. Not because he is the son of Great Eagle, war chief of the Iroquois, but because he will be tall and strong and brave and will learn well the ways of the tribe. Soon he will be ready to be a leader and when that day comes, I will be proud to stand forth and say, ‘This is my son.’” Great Eagle slept warm and soundly that night and arose with the dawn of the next day. Today his son was to go on a trek with him to learn the ways of the wild game in winter time. Great Eagle moved to his son’s bed and called softly to him, “Come, my son, for we have a long way to travel and much to do today.” Crying Eagle got up quickly, put on his warm winter clothes, and sat with his father at breakfast. As soon as breakfast was over, they gathered their weapons and left the protection of the Iroquois village and headed toward the forest. As they walked along the trail, Great Eagle pointed out different signs. Here the snow had been scraped by a deer nosing for anything green under the snow. There was a squirrel nest bulging with its store of winter food. And everywhere there were the tracks of many wolves. This had been a hard winter, and the hungry wolves were moving in packs to seek out easy prey. Many animals would not find enough food to keep them at full strength. Unless one were very careful, escape from an attack by these forest marauders would be impossible. Crying Eagle began to get tired and his father motioned toward a small glen in the forest off to the side of the trail. There were some fallen logs upon which they could sit and have their lunch of jerked venison and water. As they sat eating slowly, Great Eagle watched the forest around them for any signs of game. But all was quiet except for the singing of the few winter birds that lived there, even in the coldest weather. Suddenly, they heard the crackling of some dry timber in the distance and Great Eagle raised his head. “A buck leaping through the brush,” he said. “How can you tell, father?” “Listen, my son! You will discover that there is a moment of silence between each crackling of brush. That tells you that whatever makes the noise is leaping, and the heavy crashing of brush tells you that the animal is large. Because it leaps, you know it is not a bear. So we can be almost sure that it is a buck.” Just as Great Eagle stopped speaking, they saw a large buck moving in long leaps among the brush and small trees. Suddenly, he stopped and sniffed the air. Great Eagle and his son stood perfectly still. The buck looked directly toward them. The breeze was blowing toward the buck and he had caught their scent. Crying Eagle raised his bow but felt his father’s hand upon his shoulder. “No, my son. The buck is truly beautiful. But our wigwam is full of venison, and we have enough fine clothes to last for a long time. We do not kill the forest animals unless we really need to. Truly, I know how much you want to make a kill and tell your friends of the fine buck your steady hand brought down, but that must wait for another day. We are here to learn the way animals live during the winter, so that when you must hunt for your family, you will find it easy.” The buck seemed to wait for Great Eagle to speak with his son. Then he leaped away through the forest. Great Eagle and his son spent the rest of the afternoon studying other signs of wild life. As the sun began to sink low in the west, Great Eagle turned and started on the trail for home. After they had gone a ways, Great Eagle halted and motioned for his son to be still. Together the two Indians crouched low and Great Eagle pointed through the trees. There, only three hundred paces away in a clearing, stood a large buck. Off to the right of the buck stood a beautiful brown doe and further on through the trees was another buck, moving slowly forward through the trees. “Why do we stop, father?” asked Crying Eagle, still crouching low in the snow. “Because, son, I believe that we are about to see something very rarely seen by humans. The buck in the clearing is standing guard over his bride, the doe on our right. The buck coming through the trees is young and wants the doe, too. So he is challenging the old buck to a duel. The winner will get the doe. In a moment they will face each other in the clearing. They will meet head on and the battle will be on. The buck that gives up first and turns from the battle will be the loser, and the other will claim his bride.” Soon, as Great Eagle had said, the younger buck entered the clearing. The two faced each other, the younger pawing at the ground while the older stood surveying this young challenger of his right to the doe, who lay watching them calmly from the brush to the side of the clearing. Then the two bucks began to circle. They stopped and almost at once the young one charged. The older buck met the attack head on and there was a loud crash as their antlers met and locked. They pushed and pulled and wrenched until suddenly their antlers were free. They were almost equally matched, for even though the younger buck seemed faster, the older was a veteran of many such battles and knew more tricks in fighting. Again they locked horns but unlocked quickly this time. Then the older buck’s antlers slashed into the side of the young buck. Back and forth the battle waged and then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The young buck had had enough. He tossed his head into the air and leaped off into the forest, to lick his wounds and wait for another doe. The old buck walked with what looked like pride to his doe. She rose to her feet and, side by side, they began pushing their noses into the snow to smell out food. “Come,” said Great Eagle, “let us leave them in peace. You have seen one of the great events in the life of wild animals. Remember it well for you may be called upon to defend the persons and things you love, even when you think the enemy is stronger. Remember how strength alone is not enough. You must know how to fight well in order to win.” Crying Eagle was thinking about each word his father had spoken as they headed home. They moved rapidly because they wanted to reach the village before dark. Soon through the trees they could see the flickering of many campfires. In a few moments they were in the camp and at home. A hot meal of stew was waiting for them, and father and son ate heartily. When they had finished, Crying Eagle spoke to his father. “My father, you opened my eyes today to many new things. I hope that I have learned my lesson well and will always obey your teaching.” Crying Eagle kept his promise well. Some years later there was trouble between his village and the neighboring tribes. While the young bucks shouted for blood and the scalps of their neighbors, Crying Eagle called for peace and talk. Like his father in battle, he was a brave warrior, but where talk around the council fire could save lives, Crying Eagle was a great leader and peacemaker. Crying Eagle lived to a very old age, but he never forgot that walk through the winter forest with his father Chief Great Eagle, war chief of the mighty Iroquois.
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