A WAR CLUB
V
THE FRIENDLY TRIBE
In the silence of the early morning came the distant sound of hoof beats.
Louder and louder, nearer and nearer grew the sound.
Many Indians rushed from their wigwams, put their ears to the ground and listened.
Nearer and nearer it came, while the Indians listened and waited.
Suddenly from the nearby forest dashed a beautiful black pony.
On the pony’s back sat an Indian youth about fifteen years old.
He sat tall and straight. His eyes were bright and shining.