"You see now how a Bee can sting!" chimed in Charging Bear, in much mirth and admiration for the feat of his friend.
This, or something not unlike it, was now their daily experience, while their wives busily dressed the skins of their game and cured such of the meat as they cared to save. Each man kept a mental record of his shots for future reference, and all bore with unfailing good-humor the kindly ridicule of their fellows. They often hunted singly, yet the tendency was to be on the lookout for one another as well as for themselves, knowing that they were always in more or less peril from ferocious animals, as well as from the enemies of their people. They would also send out one of their number from time to time to scout the ground over which they expected to hunt on the following day.
"Ho, koowah yay yo, kola!" was the cry of Black Hawk, one evening, inviting his companion hunters to feast at his lodge. He had been appointed to scout the field south of their camp, and, having explored the country thoroughly, was ready to make his report.
"The land south of us, along the river," said he, "is well peopled with elk, deer, and beaver, and the prairie adjoining is full of buffalo. As far as the eye can see, their herds are countless. But, friends," he added, "there are also bears in this region. I have seen them, and I saw many of their fresh tracks."
Black Hawk was a clever scout, and could imitate both the actions and call of any animal so as almost to deceive his fellow-hunters. He had covered considerable ground that afternoon.
"There is, however, no recent sign of any of our enemies, and the game is better than in any year that I have come here," he said again.
"Ho, ho, ho!" was the chorus of thanks from the others.
"Flying Bee, you have hunted in this region longer than the rest of us. Tell us of the wisdom of other years," suggested one.
"Ho, kola, hechetu!" again came the approving chorus.
The feast was eaten, the pipe was laid aside, and Flying Bee began thus: