sit on his right hand, and behind him; and when he had filled it, told me
to light the pipe. I reached over to the fire, and with a tongs made of
willow took up a small coal and lighted the pipe, and after it was going
well, passed it to my uncle. And so I lighted all the pipes that were
smoked that night. It was during the second of these pipes that an old man,
Calf Robe, told a story of a thing that had happened in the tribe long ago,
when he was a young man. He was a little man, thin and dried up, but in his
time he had been a great warrior. Now he was old and poor, his left arm
thin, withered and helpless, and on his side a great scar, much larger than
my two hands, where people said his ribs on that side had all been torn
away. I had heard of his adventures, how once the animals had taken pity on
him, and brought him, after he was sorely wounded on a war journey, safe
back to his people and his village. It was on this night that I first heard
the story of the Medicine Circle. This was what he said:

"It was winter. The people were camped on Lodgepole Creek near the Big Horn
Mountains. Buffalo were close and small game plenty. The snow was deep, and
the people did not watch their horses closely, for they thought no war
parties would be out in such cold and in such deep snow.

"The chief of this camp had strong mysterious power. On the ground at the
right of his bed in his lodge was always a space, where red painted wooden
pegs were set in the ground in a circle. Above this hung the medicine
bundles. No one was allowed to step or sit in this circle. No one might
throw anything on the ground near it. No one might pass between it and the
fire. It was sacred.

"It was a very cold night. The wind blew the snow about so that one could
hardly see. The chief had gone to a feast in a lodge near his own, and his
wives were in bed, but one of them was still awake. The fire had burned