| As he approached, an old
woman, bent with age and crippled, came from the lodge door and looked
at him.
"Will you come into my lodge?" she
said, greeting him.
Lone Feather looked at her for a moment
in silence. She spoke again. He could not understand her speech, for
she belonged to another tribe. By signs she made him know that she
wished him to come into her lodge and rest. Lone Feather entered.
Far back from the door crouched two big
grizzly bears. She made signs to show that the bears were friendly,
and Lone Feather sat down near the door. She stirred the fire, and as
she put on fresh wood the sparks flew up toward the smoke hole, which
was opened only a little way.
By signs she told him she would go out
and open the smoke hole wider, so that the fire might burn more
brightly. She was gone for some time, and Lone Feather sat looking
into the fire, still thinking of many things, when the air became
thick with smoke. He looked up and saw that the smoke hole was closed.
He sprang up and went to the door, but the door covering was down. He
raised it, and as he put his head out the old woman hit him with a
large stone club and he was dead.
Before his spirit started for the Sand
Hills he saw that with a large knife she cut up his body and put the
pieces into a pot. Soon they were well cooked and the old woman and
the two bears feasted on his flesh.
They threw his bones out of the door,
where they fell among many others like them. The ground was strewn
with the bones of the persons she had trapped and killed.
Day by day other persons disappeared
from the winter camp, and more and more bones whitened on the ground
outside the stone lodge on the river bank.
As Cold Maker was bringing the snow to the
Blackfeet
winter camp, he passed the Sand Hills. Lone Feather and other ghosts
from the
Blackfeet tribe were telling each other how the old woman had sent
them there. Cold Maker heard their stories and he was angry.
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When he reached the camp he went to the lodge
of Broken Bow—a brave young man, but very poor.
He shivered when Cold Maker entered his
lodge and drew his ragged robe about him. They were close friends.
"Would you like to have a new robe?" asked
Cold Maker.
"Yes," said Broken Bow.
"Come with me. You may kill two grizzly
bears," said Cold Maker.
"My bow is broken. I cannot," said Broken
Bow sadly.
"I will help you. Bring only a knife."
Together they went from the lodges toward
the north. The sun was already hidden behind the nearby hills.
After they had travelled some distance they
heard the sound of voices. They listened. Two bears were complaining that
they wanted meat. A woman told them they must wait. The men saw the line
of thin blue smoke rising from the top of the lodge of stone. All about
whitening bones covered the ground. They went nearer.
Soon an old woman, bent with age and
crippled, came from the door and smiled as she saw the two persons coming.
"Come in and rest," she said. Broken Bow
did not understand her language, but Cold Maker, who understands all
tribes, said, "We are cold. Will you let us sit by your fire?"
The old woman smiled again.
"You are welcome," she said; "come in. Do
not fear my bears. They are friendly. They will not harm you." The two
friends entered the lodge, where a smouldering fire sent a feeble smoke up
to the smoke hole, that was partly open. She put fresh wood on the fire
and said, "I will open the smoke hole wider," and went out, dropping the
door covering as she went.
Then she closed the smoke hole. The smoke
began to fill the top of the lodge. It settled lower and lower. Broken Bow
was afraid.
"Give me your pipe," said Cold Maker.
Broken Bow filled his pipe and, handed it
to him. He lighted it by a brand from the fire, and sent great puffs of
smoke curling upward. This smoke met the other smoke and stopped it. It
could not descend any lower.
Broken Bow saw the wonderful medicine of
his friend. He was no longer afraid, but wondered what Cold Maker would do
next. The grizzly bears growled low.
The old woman outside called to them,
"Friends, is it smoking in there now?"
"Not a bit," replied Cold Maker. "We are
very comfortable."
She waited. They did not come out. She
stood near the door. Her stone club was ready. She grew impatient. She
wondered what had gone wrong with her plans. The two friends were silent.
She looked at the smoke hole, but it was closed securely. She lifted the
door covering to see if the friends within had died. They sat perfectly
still. She entered to look more closely, and as soon as she was fairly
inside Cold Maker and Broken Bow rushed out and dropped the door covering.
Before she could move they piled great heaps of stone in the door-way. The
bears growled. She called for help. Cold Maker and Broken Bow went on down
the river.
Then Cold Maker took from a little sack a
few white eagle-down feathers. He blew them from him. At once a fierce
storm blew across the valley. The bitter cold froze the water, but only in
this one place. It dammed the stream with fast forming ice. The water rose
higher and higher. It spread out over the banks. Cold Maker and Broken Bow
went far off on the hills and watched it. Little by little it rose. It
reached the stone lodge. The bears roared. The woman screamed. The water
reached the top and covered the lodge from sight. All sound ceased. A
moment more, and the water was quiet. Once more Cold Maker blew from him a
few white eagle-down feathers. The storm subsided. It became warm again.
The ice melted. The water retreated to its channel.
Cold Maker and Broken Bow went to the stone
lodge. The woman was lying beside the pot. The grizzly bears were close to
the stones which blocked the door-way.
Cold Maker said, "Here is your new robe,"
and Broken Bow took from the bears their thick, warm skins.
On his way home Cold Maker again passed the
Sand Hills. Entering the country was an old woman bent with age and
crippled.
He
hurried on.
Added May, 2006
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