Fleet Deer was master of the Indian art of picture writing, and he had, that very day, added new paintings to the record. His children had never heard of any other way to read or write, and they had never seen a book.
The flap of skin covering the lodge entrance was raised and a man entered.
"The story-teller! The story-teller!" shouted the children with delight. He was given the seat of honor and the best food that Good Bird could provide.
When the guest was warm and his meal over, favorite stories were asked for.
"We ought to hear again of the great gift of corn to our people," said Good Bird.
"New stories, I want new stories. Will you tell us some new stories?" asked White Cloud.
"War stories, I want, and stories of boys," said Swift Elk.
Then Fleet Deer, the father, spoke: "I wish my son to know the tale of the White Canoe and how a great warrior honored his parents."
Nokomis had no request. She was a fine story-teller herself and interested in hearing everything that might be related.
Then, to the joy of his hearers, the story-teller began.