“No, you are not,” she said.
“Oh, let him go,” said Washakie, and she consented. I jumped on the horse and started after the bears as hard as I could go. The Indians had headed them away from the timber and were popping arrows into them. My horse was not a bit scared so I ran up to one of the bears and shot three arrows into his side.
“Keep back, you little dunce,” shouted the Indians, “that bear will tear you to pieces.”
But the bear was too full of arrows to tear much. He looked like a porcupine with his quills on end. Very soon the two bears dropped dead; but their skins were so full of holes that they were not worth much; the meat was not much good either.
S. N. Leek, Jackson, Wyoming
A baby elk in its hiding place.
That night the Indians had a big dance around the two hides. I joined in the fun and sang as loud as any of them. They thought I was pretty daring. One old Indian said, “The little fool doesn’t know any better. If a bear once got hold of him he would not be so brave.” But they gave me one of the hides and mother tanned it and sewed up most of the holes. It made me a very good robe to sleep in.
While we were in this valley another small band of Indians joined us. The girl that had hit me with the fishing pole was with them. When she saw that the other Indians liked me so much, she wanted to make up with me. She came around several times before she said anything to me, but finally one day she walked over to where I was helping mother stake down a moose hide to dry and said, “Yagaki, I am sorry that I hit you that day with the fish pole.”
“I am not,” I said.