Little Fox slowly raised himself until he could see just over the edge. There, not two feet from the hole, lay a huge bear, quite still and dead. Little Fox quickly pulled himself from the hole and started at a run for the village.
He reached the village and, not stopping to answer any questions, ran straight to his father’s wickiup. He began telling his story, still panting and talking so fast that his father made him stop to get his breath and then speak slowly. When Little Fox had finished, Swift Deer gathered some of the other warriors and went to the place where this adventure had taken place. With great pride, Swift Deer helped to skin the bear and bring it back to the village. Not long after, Little Fox stood in the Council meeting before the elders of the tribe and recounted his tale of courage. And when all his words had been heard, the Council voted that Little Fox should wear in his headband not one, but two of the most treasured tail feathers of the Great Golden Eagle.
HOW LONG MOOSE BECAME A BRAVE
The Powhatan Indians were a great tribe whose hard work each year was rewarded with large supplies of food and clothing.
Long Moose was growing up among his people happily, doing his share of the tribe’s work. He had become very tall and awkward. He had great strength, too, which he hadn’t learned yet to use well. During games and contests, Long Moose often forgot how strong he was and, not meaning to, would hurt his friends, sometimes rather badly.
Long Moose was still trying over and over to learn how to make hunting tools when winter came. It was a bitter, cold, northern winter. Both his mother and father became very sick and died after only a few days, leaving his younger sister and himself alone without near relatives to help them.
Because Long Moose was not a skillful young brave, his sister had little respect for him. He spent many days thinking sadly about his parents, but doing nothing to get food and keep their shelter tight against the wind and snow. Soon their small supply of food and fuel was nearly gone, and Long Moose had brought no hides for making clothes or repairing their home. He had also failed to give his share of food and hides for all the tribe, as every warrior was expected to do. Not only his sister but all the tribe began to feel that Little Moose was not a good Powhatan.
His sister’s harsh looks at him and his own growing hunger and cold made Long Moose think about how and why he was not a good brother or a good brave. He had to admit to himself that there was only one real reason besides his poor hunting tools and bad marksmanship: he did not want to hunt or make good hunting tools because he did not want to kill any animals.
He thought about how often he had gone out to hunt and even when, without looking for them, he had run across deer near by, he would still come back without having shot a single arrow. Long Moose knew that he loved all wild animals as much as he had loved his parents, and loved his sister and his friends now.
Driven by his hunger, the cold, his shame, and his real love for his sister, Long Moose set out several times to hunt. Each time he made a kill, but he was nearly as sad when he had done so as he had been when his parents died. To add to his sorrow, his sister would scold him for his poor skill, and taunt him by saying that he would never grow to be a real brave.