“You have done well, my son. This is a fine buffalo, one which we are sure will prove to be the largest one killed this day. The many hours spent in teaching you were not wasted. This you have proven today. You will return to our village a hero and tell of your exploits at the council tonight. No longer will you have to stay behind when the hunters go in search of food. Today you have become a hunter and earned the right to ride with the hunting party. Your father is proud.”
And so the procession, after attending the buffalo and stripping the hides and packing the fresh meat for the return trek, headed for home. At the front of the party rode Swift Eagle and Little Bear, a proud father and an even prouder son. Today the young brave had succeeded in his first hunt.
CRYING EAGLE SEES A GREAT BATTLE
It was a dark winter evening in the small Iroquois village. The cries of the wolf echoed in the forest as Great Eagle, war leader of the Iroquois, was preparing for bed. He stopped to take a last look for the night at his young son, Crying Eagle, and smiled at his boy who slept so peacefully. As he pulled the warm robe up around his son’s neck to keep the cold from seeping in and disturbing his sleep, he thought to himself,
“How lucky I am to have been blessed with such a son. Truly, he will be a leader among his people. Not because he is the son of Great Eagle, war chief of the Iroquois, but because he will be tall and strong and brave and will learn well the ways of the tribe. Soon he will be ready to be a leader and when that day comes, I will be proud to stand forth and say, ‘This is my son.’”
Great Eagle slept warm and soundly that night and arose with the dawn of the next day. Today his son was to go on a trek with him to learn the ways of the wild game in winter time.
Great Eagle moved to his son’s bed and called softly to him, “Come, my son, for we have a long way to travel and much to do today.”
Crying Eagle got up quickly, put on his warm winter clothes, and sat with his father at breakfast. As soon as breakfast was over, they gathered their weapons and left the protection of the Iroquois village and headed toward the forest. As they walked along the trail, Great Eagle pointed out different signs. Here the snow had been scraped by a deer nosing for anything green under the snow. There was a squirrel nest bulging with its store of winter food. And everywhere there were the tracks of many wolves. This had been a hard winter, and the hungry wolves were moving in packs to seek out easy prey. Many animals would not find enough food to keep them at full strength. Unless one were very careful, escape from an attack by these forest marauders would be impossible.
Crying Eagle began to get tired and his father motioned toward a small glen in the forest off to the side of the trail. There were some fallen logs upon which they could sit and have their lunch of jerked venison and water. As they sat eating slowly, Great Eagle watched the forest around them for any signs of game. But all was quiet except for the singing of the few winter birds that lived there, even in the coldest weather. Suddenly, they heard the crackling of some dry timber in the distance and Great Eagle raised his head.
“A buck leaping through the brush,” he said.