toward him he called out in a loud voice, and asked a certain man named
Brave Wolf to come to his lodge and see his son who had given his body to
the enemy, desiring to be killed, but who had done great things and had
survived. And when Brave Wolf came to the lodge, my uncle gave to him the
best horse that he had, a spotted war pony, handsome and long-winded and
fleet.

All that day I sat in the lodge and rested, and talked to my uncle. I told
him about our journey to war, and while he did not say much I could see
that his heart was glad. Before he got up to leave the lodge, he said to
me, "Friend, you have done well; I am glad to have such a son." This made
me feel glad and proud--more proud, I think, than I felt when I heard the
people shout out my name. I loved my uncle and it seemed good that I had
done something that pleased him.

All day long people were coming to our lodge and talking about what had
happened to us while on our journey. Those who came were my relations and
friends, but, besides these, older men, good warriors, people to whose
words all the tribe listened, came and sat and talked with me for a little
while. My mother and one or two of her relations were busy all day cooking
food for the visitors. It was a happy time.

The leader of our war party sent word to me that this night there would be
a war dance over the scalps that had been taken. Although I could walk a
little, I could not dance, yet I wished to go to the dance and watch the
others. All through the afternoon boys and young men were bringing wood to
a level place in the circle of the camp, and there they built what we call
a "skunk," piling up long poles together in a shape somewhat like a lodge,
so that when finished the "skunk" looked like a war lodge.