“You are a good, brave boy,” said her father.
I asked her mother why she ran away and left the girl.
“Well,” she said, “I saw the bear knock my girl down and jump on her and I thought she was dead, and I thought the bear would kill me, then there would be two of us dead.”
The father said that the bears killed many people because they tried to help the one that was first caught. He felt that it was better for the rest to run. I did not agree with him. I thought that everybody should help kill the bear even if they did run the risk of getting killed.
“Yes, you have already shown what you would do,” said my mother. “You are a brave boy.”
“It was a brave act for a boy,” said Washakie; “but we must not brag too much about Yagaki or he will begin to think he is a great hero. It is about time we went to sleep.”
The girl’s mother told me that I might have her daughter for a wife when I got big enough; but I told her she could keep the girl, I did not want her.
The next day I wanted mother and the other Indians to go up the canyon after more service berries, but they wouldn’t go a step. They had had bear scares enough for that time. The Indians left the bears alone unless they caught these animals in the open.
One morning we saw two bears crossing the valley. About fifty Indians on horses started after them. I ran and got my pinto pony. When I came back for my saddle, mother asked where I was going.
“To help kill those bears yonder.”