Several months passed, and Red Cloud became quite a good hunter and tracker and his ability with the bow was unchallenged. His father was very proud of him and each day as they returned along the trail, Great Cloud walked with his arm lovingly across the shoulders of his son.
One afternoon when they had returned from tracking a deer, Great Cloud summoned Red Cloud to his wigwam. Red Cloud thought that he might have done something on the hunt which displeased his father, but he entered the wigwam walking straight and proud as his father had taught him. Great Cloud motioned for his son to be seated and when he had done so, Great Cloud began to speak.
“My son, in your dreams have any of the powers of nature appeared to you promising success and courage in your adult life? Now think hard, for this is very important.”
Then and only then did Red Cloud realize that the time had come for him to be put to the test. Now he realized that his father was asking him whether he was a mature Indian brave or whether he was still a child.
“No, father, I have had no dream in which the powers of nature appeared.”
“Then you know, my son, what you have to do,” answered Great Cloud. “These many weeks you have probably wondered why I have not called you to me before. It was because I felt that you were not ready to bear the ordeal of spending many lonely nights in the forest alone. When one retires to the deep green of the forest to await the voice of the Thunderbird or the Sun or other powers of nature, one must go alone with just his weapons. Your education has been such that you would not have been able to survive in the forest very long before now, and that is why I have so carefully trained you in the many ways of nature and the forest these past few weeks. As you know, before you may be considered a mature Indian in the Algonquin tribe you must first hear the voice of one of the powers of nature promising you courage and success in your adult life. Are you now prepared to go into the great forest and endure this ordeal?”
Red Cloud hesitated, for he knew that his answer must be a straightforward one and honest, for truth was a sacred thing to the Indians.
“O my father, I must be truthful, for so you have taught me in my younger days. I have listened and watched patiently each day as I trotted at your heels along the trail and I have locked away in my heart and in my mind all the careful little bits of information you have given to me which would make me a boy worthy to be called the son of Great Cloud. The forest has been a friendly place to me, for I have spent many happy hours there with you. Now I am faced with a decision which I must make here and now, and all I can say to you, father, is that I, Red Cloud, your son, am ready to go into the great forest to await the word from the powers of nature.”
Great Cloud placed his hands upon the shoulders of his son and smiling at him said, “You have spoken well, my son. Tomorrow you shall leave for the forest and look for a place where you will not be disturbed. Take with you your weapons and your blanket, but no other goods such as food, for you must fast while you await the dream.”
With that Red Cloud departed from the wigwam to prepare for his journey the following morning.