It was fall before the homes of the friendly tribe were done. All had been busy getting ready for the winter. Now the wigwams were finished.

Mewanee’s father had divided his dried meat and corn with this friendly tribe. He had also given them powdered tobacco. The Indian men would be unhappy without tobacco for their long pipes.

The friendly tribe was very thankful to Mewanee’s father for his kindness to them.

They were collected around the camp fire that night. The children and women were in the wigwams. Only the men could take part in council.

All was hushed and silent, when suddenly the chief of the friendly tribe arose and all of the other Indians of this tribe followed their chief.

They danced in and out, and up and down, making queer sounds. This was their way of saying, “Thank you, O Indian Chief.”

Then they prayed words of thankfulness.

Getting up slowly, they took their places in the circle and pulled their long pipes from their belts.

They lighted their pipes by catching sparks from the pipes of the other Indian men, who had been smoking during the dance.

They were very silent, and sat smoking their pipes until the fire died out.

Then slowly they arose and wandered toward their wigwams. The night was very cold now so all must take shelter within the wigwams.

Early next morning the village was astir for it was the day of parting.

Children were running hither and thither. The Indian women were busy collecting the things which they were to take with them.

Baby brother was toddling along, his hand in Mewanee’s. He was able to walk now, and so need not be carried about in his cradle. He smiled at Mewanee and looked very wise, as if he knew what it was all about.

Just as they were about to start, Mewanee’s father came out leading a beautiful gray horse.

He approached the chief of the friendly tribe and motioned him to mount the horse.

This the chief did.

Then with the chief riding at the head, the friendly tribe started toward their home.

Father Sun sent his kindly light upon these people as they wandered homeward.

Mewanee watched until he could see the friendly tribe no longer. He knew they would be glad to be home again.

Then he wandered slowly toward the beautiful river, happy in the thought that he was the chief’s son.

He stretched himself upon the river’s bank thinking of the time when he should become chief of his tribe.