look at the cloud, and the head medicine man said that it was a
sign that the boy would grow up to be a great chief and hunter, and
would have a great many friends and followers.

This ended the feast, but before dispersing, the chief and
councilmen bestowed upon the boy the title of White Plume.

One day a stranger came to the village, who was very thin and
nearly starved. So weak was he that he could not speak, but made
signs for something to eat. Luckily the stranger came to Dead
Shot's tent, and as there was always a plentiful supply in his
lodge, the stranger soon had a good meal served him. After he had
eaten and rested he told his story.

"I came from a very great distance," said he. "The nations where
I came from are in a starving condition. No place can they find
any buffalo, deer nor antelope. A witch or evil spirit in the
shape of a white buffalo has driven all the large game out of the
country. Every day this white buffalo comes circling the village,
and any one caught outside of their tent is carried away on its
horns. In vain have the best marksmen of the tribe tried to shoot
it. Their arrows fly wide off the mark, and they have given up
trying to kill it as it bears a charmed life. Another evil spirit
in the form of a red eagle has driven all the birds of the air out
of our country. Every day this eagle circles above the village,
and so powerful is it that anyone being caught outside of his tent
is descended upon and his skull split open to the brain by the
sharp breastbone of the Eagle. Many a marksman has tried his skill
on this bird, all to no purpose.