There was very little time for rest, for they must be ready to go into the forest to kill the deer and bear.

They would need many skins and much food because they were such a large party.

The women must go into the forest to cut poles for their wigwams.

Before starting on the hunt the chief called a council.

The council was opened by a prayer to the Great Spirit thanking him for the safety of this friendly Indian tribe and asking that, with the help of the Great Spirit, they might have a fine hunt. The Indian men smoked their pipes in silence.

When the chief had finished speaking, the men arose and clasping hands, they danced in a circle, chanting a song as they danced.

It was a song of sadness, to which their feet kept perfect time.

While the Indian men were in council the squaws were getting the food ready for the hunt.

Many corn cakes must be made so that the men need not start out hungry.

How quickly they made the corn flour into a thick paste and pressed it into cakes! Then they threw the cakes into boiling water.

Mewanee was watching some of the women get the corn ready for flour. They threw the ears of corn into the jar of boiling water. Then they took out the ears of corn and easily pulled off the skin. Mewanee was interested when they cut the kernels from the ear and put them in the sun to dry.

In a few days these kernels would be ready to be pounded into flour.

Mewanee had seen his mother make corn flour. He loved to watch her put the dry kernels in a hollow stone and pound them with another stone until they were ground into a fine powder.

The men were ready for the hunt. They had their stone axes, bows and skin quivers filled with arrows.

Some of the Indians carried skin bags filled with roasted corn and powdered buffalo meat, for they might be gone for several days.

Others carried bags filled with water, for they might not reach a spring where they could get fresh water.

Mewanee watched the Indians set forth. He wished to join them in the hunt, but he was too young.

Then he quietly stole toward the river. He carried his bow and quiver bag with him.

His mother saw him go, but did not call him back. She wished her boy to become brave and strong.

Mewanee loved to do the things his father did. He could take straight aim, for he had used a bow and arrow ever since he was a little fellow.

When he was a little boy he used a tiny bow and short arrows, but as he grew taller and stronger his father made him longer arrows.

Mewanee’s bow and arrows were made just like the chief’s.

The bow was made of hickory wood, with twisted buffalo sinews stretched from end to end.

The bow string was stretched so tightly that it caused the wood to bend in a slight curve.

The arrows which Mewanee carried in his skin quiver bag were about two feet long with a pointed piece of flint fastened securely at one end.

Mewanee reached the river and quickly pulled his canoe to the edge. It was very light and Mewanee pulled it along quite easily.

How lightly he jumped into it and how swiftly he paddled down the river!

He knew where the beavers built their lodges not far down the stream.

He should love to trap a beaver, but he knew that he must wait until winter for that. He felt sure that his father would let him go beaver hunting with him when the snow came.

Then he would wear his snowshoes and glide swiftly over the surface of the snow.

For several hours Mewanee paddled on the beautiful, peaceful river. He didn’t stop for rest, and he had no food with him.

Indian boys were taught that they must endure hunger and fatigue, so Mewanee was not unhappy.

How quiet he was and how eagerly he looked first this way, then that!

Suddenly he crouched down in the bottom of the canoe. His eyes were just on a level with the top edge of the side. His arms were extended to shoot.

He was very quiet, for the flock of wild geese which he saw in the distance would scatter if he made the least noise.

How gracefully they glided over the surface of the water! Soon they would be very near Mewanee.

He awaited their coming. He did not stir for he did not wish to disturb them.

Now up he sprang, rested on one knee, and took careful aim.

First one arrow, then another and another skimmed through the air.

Each arrow had been carefully aimed, and Mewanee had three fine geese to take home.

He felt that he had been able to help in providing food for the friendly Indian tribe.

On his way home Mewanee stopped to call to the squirrels as they ran to and fro on the river’s edge.

He talked to them as he threw them acorns which he found in his quiver bag. He stopped to listen to the birds as they sang to him from their nests in the trees.

Homeward he paddled. It was getting late, but Mewanee was not afraid.

It was twilight when Mewanee pulled his canoe up on the river bank and walked toward his wigwam.

He was very happy indeed, that he had the three fine geese which he carried over his shoulder.

Mewanee’s mother was waiting for him, and baby brother smiled a welcome.

Little brother was still in his linden cradle.

I am sure an American child would feel quite unhappy if he were bound in a cradle so much of the time, but Indian babies became quite accustomed to it. They must learn to endure pain and suffering. That was their first lesson.

As soon as baby brother was old enough he would be allowed to run about and care for himself.

Mewanee did not say that he was hungry but he was glad to eat the cakes and maple syrup which his mother gave him.

She was pleased when she saw the wild geese which Mewanee had shot.

While Mewanee was eating his supper the men came home from the hunt. They had decided to return to the village for the night and set out again early the next morning.

Mewanee rushed out of the wigwam to see what they had brought as a result of the hunt.

He wished also to show the geese which he had shot. He was most anxious that his father, the chief, should see them.

Mewanee smiled when his father said, “My brave son!”

After supper the Indians sat about smoking.

They were silent and thoughtful.