buffalo. I forgot that a little while before I had been frightened, and had
wanted to get away without shooting. I forgot that, except for my uncle, I
should not have made this lucky shot. I felt as if I had done something,
and something that was very smart and great. You see, I was only a boy.

This feeling did not last very long; after a little I remembered that
except for my uncle I should have still been afraid of big buffalo, and
should not have dared to go near enough to kill one, but should have been
content to kill calves. My mind was still big for what I had done, and I
felt thankful to my uncle for making me do it. I wanted to pass my hands
over him--to express my gratitude to him--for all his kindness to me. No
father could have done more for me than he had done, and always did.

That night when we came back to the camp my horse was carrying a great pile
of meat; and when I stopped in front of the lodge, I called out to my
mother to come and take my horse, and take the meat from it; for so my
uncle had told me to do. "Now," he said, "you have become a man; you are
able to hunt, and to kill food, and you must act as a man acts."

When my mother came out of the lodge she was astonished; she could hardly
believe that it was I who had killed this buffalo. Nevertheless, she took
the rope from me, and began to take the meat from the horse; and I went
into the lodge and lay down on the bed by the fire to rest, for this too
was what my uncle had told me to do.

The next time the camp made a surround, I rode alone, and this time I did
not do so well. It is true that I killed a cow, but also I shot another
animal, which carried away three of my arrows. It was afterward killed by a
man a long way off, and the next day he gave me back my arrows, which he
had taken from the cow. I felt ashamed of this, but, nevertheless, I kept