The camp was once more alive with the
dances, and the dull thud of the Indian drum
was continually in the air. The council had
agreed that Antelope was entitled to wear a
war-bonnet of eagles' feathers. He was ac-
cordingly summoned before the aboriginal par-
liament, and from the wise men of the tribe he
received his degree of war-bonnet.
It was a public ceremony. The great pipe
was held up for him to take the smoke of high
honor.
The happiest person present was the father
of Antelope; but he himself remained calm and
unmoved throughout the ceremony.
"He is a strange person," was the whisper
among a group of youths who were watching
the proceedings with envious eyes.
The young man was strangely listless and
depressed in spirit. His old grandmother knew
why, but none of the others understood. He
never joined in the village festivities, while the
rest of his family were untiring in the dances,
and old Wezee was at the height of his hap-
piness.
It was a crisp October morning, and the fam-
ily were eating their breakfast of broiled bison
meat, when the large drum at the council lodge
was struck three times.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53