_Et-tsis-ki-ots-op_, "It fell on them." A longtime ago a number of
Blackfeet women were digging in a bank near this creek for the red clay
which they use for paint, when the bank gave way and fell on them, burying
and killing them.]

Early in the morning a band of buffalo were seen in the foot-hills of the
mountains, and some hunters went out to get meat. Carefully they crawled
along up the coulées and drew near to the herd; and, when they had come
close to them, they began to shoot, and their arrows pierced many fat
cows. But even while they were thus shooting, they were surprised by a war
party of Snakes, and they began to run back toward the camp. There was one
hunter, named Fox-eye, who was very brave. He called to the others to stop,
saying: "They are many and we are few, but the Snakes are not brave. Let us
stop and fight them." But the other hunters would not listen. "We have no
shields," they said, "nor our war medicine. There are many of the
enemy. Why should we foolishly die?"

They hurried on to camp, but Fox-eye would not turn back. He drew his
arrows from the quiver, and prepared to fight. But, even as he placed an
arrow, a Snake had crawled up by his side, unseen. In the still air, the
Piegan heard the sharp twang of a bow string, but, before he could turn his
head, the long, fine-pointed arrow pierced him through and through. The bow
and arrows dropped from his hands, he swayed, and then fell forward on the
grass, dead. But now the warriors came pouring from the camp to aid
him. Too late! The Snakes quickly scalped their fallen enemy, scattered up
the mountain, and were lost to sight.

Now Fox-eye had two wives, and their father and mother and all their near
relations were dead. All Fox-eye's relatives, too, had long since gone to
the Sand Hills[1]. So these poor widows had no one to avenge them, and they