S04 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
OdT. 16, 1897. 
kin^ ^Hg md 0m 
The "BriePs" Pictures. 
There are twenty-Dine illustrations in the cuiTent editioa of Game 
Laws in Brief, most of them full-page half-tones, and all admirahl3^ 
printed. The book is a beauty, and well worth having for the illus- 
trations which, Mr. Charles Hallock says, so well represent America's 
wilderaess sports. The Brief gives all the laws of the United States 
and Canada for the practical guidance of anglers and shooters. As 
an authority, it has a long record of unassailed and unassailable ao- 
cm-acy. Forest and Stream Pub. Co. sends it postpaid for 25 cents, 
or your dealer will supply you. 
THE NATIVE AMERICAN HUNTER. 
Il.-^THE LIE THAT CAME TRUE. 
It was more than forty years ago. Sun's Eoad was a 
young man eighteen or twenty years old, big enough to 
have a sweetheart, and there was a girl in the camp that 
he greatly wished to please. He had been to war several 
times and had counted some coups, and once he had given 
his body to the enemy*; but he had lived. He was ambi- 
tious, and wanted to do more great things, to make the 
people talk about him, to be succossful always, to become 
a great man. 
The Cheyennes were camped on the South Platte, a big 
village of near 200 lodges. It was late in the fall, and all 
had their new lodges, white and clean. The camp looked 
nice. The buffalo had all gone away. None were to be 
found. The people were starving. They had eaten all 
their food, and now they were eating their dogs, and most 
of these were already gone. 
It happened one day that two boys, each the son of a 
chief, had killed each an antelope and taken it to his 
father's lodge; and these were cooked and the chiefs called 
together (to feast. There was not enough food to allow 
them to call any other people beside the chiefs. After 
these chiefs had eaten, they talked of the suffering of the 
people and tried to think what could be done to help 
them. After a tirue one of the chiefs came out of the lodge 
and walked through the camp, calling out to the people. 
He said: "Listen, listen, you people; we will all stay here 
in this camp," This he called out again and again. After 
a time Sun's Eoad heard his name called. The old man 
shouted: "Sun's Eoad, Sun's Eoad, the chief wants you to 
go to his lodge. He wants you to go out to look for buf- 
falo," Then he heard another young man, Eed Coyote, 
called in the same way. 
Sun's Eoad went to the" chief's lodge. They told him 
to siti down by the door, and gave him a little piece of 
antelope meat to eat. After he had eaten the piece of 
meat, the chief said to him: "We want you to go to-night 
across the river on to the other side, and you will go to 
where the pile of bones is, where we had the fight with 
the Pawnees. On the other side of that hill the country 
is level for a long way. Look over that country and see 
if you can see any buffalo, and come back and let us know 
what you have seen. If you see no buffalo do not go any 
fiirther. Come back from there." This pile of bones was 
afortiflcation of buffalo bones built on the top of a very high 
hUl by some Pawnees who, many years before, had been 
surrounded then by the Cheyennes, 
Sun's Eoad started on hie journey. When he got to the 
river he took off his leggings and moccasins, and waded 
across. It was cold, for by this time it was pretty late in 
the night. On the other side, he put on his leggings and 
moccasins again and walked on north. After he had 
walked a long way, and it was beginning to get toward 
morning, he felt tired, and thought he would rest for a 
little while. He looked about for a place to lie down, and 
pretty soon he found a little bunch of brush behind a 
small bank, and decided that he would unbelt his robe, 
and lie down and sleep for a little while. He did so, but 
he had not slept long when his feet got cold and woke 
him, and when he raised his head he saw that it was be- 
ginning to get day. He said to himself: "Why, T must 
not stay here longer. I am out looking for buffalo for 
people who are starving. I must not lie here." So he 
rose and tied up his waist and started on. 
He walked on and oh, and at length he saw the high 
hill and on it the pile of bones. As he went on, it came 
nearer and nearer, and he walked up it until he was close 
to the pile of bones. Then he stopJ)ed, for he was afraid. 
He was afraid that when he looked over the hill he would 
see nothing. He wanted to make a great man of himself 
and to take back the news that he had seen buffalo, so that 
his name would be talked about among the people, and 
that they would all say that he was smart and was lucky. 
He was so afraid that he would see nothing when he 
looked over the hill that he stopped. He said to himself: 
"If I should not see anything and go back, they will all 
hear of it, and my girl will hear of it. They will hot think 
much of me. If I could only see plenty of buffalo, what a 
great man I should be!" 
He went on, and when he reached the top of the hill 
and looked over, there, down below him, he saw thirty 
bulls and a calf. He looked at them and said: "Those are 
bulls. They are not much, but something." He looked 
another way, and presently he saw one bull, and then two, 
and others, scattered — in all five or six. He said again: 
"These are not many, but they would be some help to the 
people." A little to his right and down the hill was a 
point of the bluff that hid some part of the country be- 
yond, and he went down there, just a few steps, to see 
what was over that way. When he got there he looked 
out into a veiy pretty, level basin, with a stream running 
through it. He said to himself: "This is a pretty place, a 
good place for buffalo; there ought to be a great many of 
them here," At first he could see none, but he kept on 
looking, and at last he saw far off a few — a very few — ^per- 
haps ten or fifteen, cows. 
For a long time he stood there, thinking what he should 
teU the chiefs when he got back to the camp. He said to 
himself: "If I go back and tell them just what I have seen 
it will be nothing. Now, I want to make a great man of 
myself, and I am going to tell them a lie. Yes, I 
shall have to tell them a lie. I shall tell them that when 
31ooked over the bill I saw those thirty bulls with ^ne 
calf, and that beyond I saw many buffalo— hundreds. I 
* The adventure referred to here will be related at another time. 
know it is a lie, but I shall have to tell it." Then he 
turned about and went back. 
He traveled fast, walking and trotting, and sometimes 
running, for he wished to get back to the camp before 
night. It was late in the afternoon when he came to the 
river, waded across it and reached the Camp. He went 
into his father's lodge and sat down. His father was at 
work making a whetstone; he looked up at his son and 
said: "Ha, you have got back." Then he turned to his 
wife and said: "Give our son something to eat." His 
mother was cooking a little dog, the last one that they 
had, and she gave Sun's Eoad a piece of it and he ate. 
Then he took off his moccasins, went over to his bed and 
lay down, covered himself with his robe and went to 
sleep. He did not speak and he made iio report to the 
chiefs. There were some children playing in the lodge 
and making a little noise, and his father said to them: 
"Go out. You will wake my son. He is tired and has 
gone to sleep," 
Sun's Eoad slept only for a short time, for the lie that 
he was going to tell troubled him, Prettv soon he heard 
one of the old chiefs coming — old Double Head. H e could 
hear him coming, coughing and grunting, and he knew 
who it was by the sound. The chief entered the lodge 
and sat down and asked Sun's Eoad's father if his son had 
returned. The father said: "Yes, he is asleep." He filled 
the pipe and Double Head smoked. Sun's Eoad lay still. 
In a few minutes he heard another old man coming 
toward the lodge, grunting. He knew who it was — White 
Cow. He came in, sat down, asked the same question and 
smoked. 
White Cow called to Sun's Eoad: "Nejjhew, get up now 
and tell us what you saw. We are starving." 
Sun's Eoad rolled over, pulled the robe from his head, 
raised himself on his elbow and said: "I went to the hill 
of the Pile of Bones, and right over beyond the bones on 
the other side of the hill I saw thirty bulls and a calf. 
Just below them, as I looked over, I saw many buffalo." 
The old men stood up and went out. Soon he heard 
them crying out through the camp to all the people: "Sun's 
Eoad has got in. On the other side of the pile of bones he 
saw thirty bulls and a calf, and just below this he saw 
many buffalo. Gather in your horses; get them up; 
women sharpen your knives; men whet your arrow points; 
tie up your horses, and early in the morning we will go 
after buffalo. The camp will stay here. All will go on 
horseback." Sun's Eoad was frightened, but it was too 
late now to be sorry for what he had done. 
Next morning, just at break of day, before it was light, 
all the people were out. The old crier was shouting out: 
"Saddle your horses! Make ready to start! Men, women 
and all!" . 
Soon all were saddled and they crossed the river and 
went on. The chiefs rode first, and every one was behind 
them; no one rode ahead of them. They went pretty fast, 
for all were eager to get to where the buffalo were. 
Pretty soon they came in sight ot the pile of bones. 
Sun's Eoad could hear the old chiefs talking and saying 
to each other: "'There are the bones; soon we will be there 
at the buffalo." All the time he was thinking of the lie 
that he had told, and remembering that there were only 
a few buffalo, while he had said that there were many. 
When they reached tbe foot of the hill close to the 
bones, the chiefs stopped, and everyone behind them 
stopped, too. All the chiefs got off their horses and sat 
down in a row and filled the pipe and began to smoke. 
Soon Sun's Eoad heard one of them call out: "Sun's Eoad! 
Sun's Eoad! Go up to the pile of bones and see if j'^ou can 
see your buffalo now. Let us know if they are there." 
Then Sun's Eoad was frightened; his heart was beating so 
fast that it almost choked him. He did not know what to 
do. He did not move. 
Soon old Standing Water, another chief, called out 
sharply: "Sun's Eoad, my nephew, go to the pile of bones 
and see if you can see those buffalo. Come back and tell 
us what you see." 
Then Sun's Eoad started and rode up toward the pile of 
bones. Just as he did so, a crow tiew over him and began 
to call, Oa,, Ga, Ca. He kept riding on, his heart beating 
fast; but as he rode he held up his hands toward the crow 
and prayed. "Ah, Crow," said he, "take pity on me and 
fetch the buffialo," He held his hands up higher, and 
prayed to the Great Spirit: "Oh, He mmia wiJiio, you are 
the one who made the buffalo. Take pity on me. You 
know what I need." Then he rode up to the top of the 
hill. 
The moment his head got to where he could see over the 
hill, he looked and there he saw the thirty bulls and the 
calf; they had hardly moved at all. Then he went on a 
step further, so that he could see beyond them, and the 
place that he had seen the day before was just full of buf- 
falo. Again he held up his hands to heaven, and said: 
"Oh, Crow ! Oh, He cmriia wihio, you have made my words 
true. The lie that I told you have made come true." 
He turned and rode down the hill toward the chiefs. 
Before he had reached them, one of them called to him to 
come right to the middle of the line where they were sit- 
ting, and when he had come near they told him to get off 
his horse, and called some one to take the horse and lead 
it off to one side. They told a young man to bring a buffalo 
chip, and he brought one and put it down on the ground 
before the old chief, Standing Water, and then went away. 
The chief placed the chip on the ground in front of him, 
about the length of his arm distant from his knees. Then 
he filled a pipe. Sun's Eoad still stood out in front of the 
line in the sight of all the people. He was still badly 
frightened, for he did not know what they were going to 
do. He was young, and did not as yet know of the cere- 
monies. 
When the pipe was filled, the old chief lighted it and 
pointed the stem to the east, to the north, to the west and 
to the south; then up to the sky, and then down to the 
ground. Then he rested the bowl of the pipe on the 
buffalo chip and said: "Sun's Eoad, come here." When 
he had come close, the chief said: "Take hold of this pipe 
and take five draws." The old man held the pipe, and so 
did Sun's Eoad, until he had drawn on the pipe five times. 
Then said the chief: "Now do you hold the pipe," and 
Sun's Eoad held it, while the old man took his hands 
away. "Then he said: "Sun's Eoad, pass your hand all 
down the stem and over the pipe, and then rub your hands 
over your face and he*d, and over your arms and body 
and legs. Then hand me the pipe." Sun's Eoad did as 
he was bade. Then the old man put his hand qu the buf- 
falo chip and said to Sun'a Boad: 
"Ho W& nl vom?" (Did you see bulls?) and Sun's Road 
answered: 
"Nauvom." (I saw them.) The old man pulled in the 
chip a little way toward him, 
"Did you see cows?" 
"I saw them." The chief moved the chip a little 
further toward him. 
"Did you see two-year-olds?" 
"I saw them." He moved the chip a little further 
toward him. 
"Did you see yearlings?" 
"I saw them." 
"Did you see small calves?" 
"I saw them." 
After each answer the chip was moved nearer to the 
chief, and when all these questions had been answered it 
was close to his body. Then Standing Water lifted up his 
hands to heaven, and thanked He amma mtm for all his. 
goodness to the people. 
Then Standing Water cleaned out the pipe, emptying- 
the ashes on the chip in four piles, and left them there. 
He put his pipe in its sheath, and said to the people: 
"Now let none of you people go round to the left and pa^s 
in front of this chip (between it and the camp). Back off 
and all come around behind it (on the side toward the 
buffalo). If you pass in front of it, this might make the 
bufialo all go away." All the people went around it, as 
they had been ordered. 
The chiefs mounted and all rode up on the ridge, and all 
saw the buffalo. The chiefs said: "Now here we will 
divide into two parties. Let half go the right and half to 
the left. The chiefe will go straight down from here. Let 
one party go around below the buffalo, and the other party 
on the upper side. When you get to your places, make 
your charges all at the same time." 
Sun's Eoad watched where his girl was riding, and when 
he saw that she went to the right he went that way, too, 
and she saw him on his fine horse. They charged down 
on the buffalo and he rode close to a fat cow and killed it. 
The people killed plenty of buffalo and took much meat 
back to camp and ate, and all were happy. 
A day or two afterward some one who was out saw the 
bufialo quite close and coming toward the river. They 
went out and made another killing. Two or three days 
later they began to come down to the river and then to 
cross the river and to feed in the hills about camp. The 
people stayed in this camp for a long time and killed 
many buffalo and made plenty of robes, 
George Bird Geinnell. 
THE EVOLUTION OF A SPORTSMAN. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Nineteen years ago this very month of September, an 
ancient musket, scratched and battered by 3/^ears of service, 
rusted through the negligence of its successive owners, and 
kept thus far from dissolution by divers nails, screws and 
twists of wire, passed into the possession of a farmer's ap- 
prentice. Memory cannot recall all the circumstances of 
that transaction, but treasure upon treasure was added to 
the original offer, until, like the merchant in the parable, 
the boy sold everything to gain this pearl of great price. 
When at last the actual transfer of property took place joy- 
was unconfined and aspiration beheld nothing beyond. 
Weeks of bombardment attested the faithful effort to bring 
breech, sight and object into effective collocation. Stumps, 
posts, bottles, cans and escaping birds marked the advance 
of the tireless nimrod. The farmer's wife, startled by a 
white apparition stealing around _ the corner of the house 
to shoot a roosting partridge, the involuntary acrobatics of 
the old cat, stumbled over in the mad rush for a shot at a 
low-flying duck, the pale face of a companion who heard 
one charge whistle past his ear, are as fresh as yesterday. 
Surely a lenient Providence guards reckless mortals. The 
gun came to an end almost as suddenly as the one-horse 
shay, but the boy pulled through safely. For fifteen years 
a solitary grouse occupied the place of honor — the first and 
only success amid a dreary fusilade of crazy shots. 
In the fall of 1892 a clergyman inherited a Colt breech- 
loader. It was a handsome gun and a famous shooter, but 
the recollection of that first campaign and its single trophy 
furnished no incentive to further effort. The gun might 
have gone into an undeserved obscurity, had not a refrac- 
tory liver invested it with unsuspected medicinal virtue. 
"You are built for outdoor life," said the doctor; "get out 
on the Mils and into the woods." "I have a gun," replied 
the minister. "Good! LTse it!" That prescription settled 
my fate. Let those who inveigh against clerical sportsmen 
reserve their choicest censure for these heretical doctors 
who preach the gospel of red corpuscles and even advo- 
cate masculinity in preachers. What justification have 
these fellows in their baneful work of keeping us young? 
Still, we must obey them or they order us to stop work. I 
remember the look of utter astonishment that settled on 
the face of the first parishioner I met when he penetrated 
the disguise of cap, boots and hunting coat and found a 
minister— his minister! It was not the strangeness of a 
gun, for he had handled one sixty years. It was rather 
the unexpected association of theology and gunpowder. 
"Well, well, pastor," said my old friend who sits, in the 
second pew from the front; "that's a ban'sum gun, but I 
didn't know you keered about shootin'." 
"Doctor's medicine," I replied. "Good enough for any- 
body. I'd like to go with you." 
I had not scandalized him, and thus encouraged I 
pressed on to meet a friend who had promised to locate 
some birds. That first shot! Whir-r-r-r— straightaway, a 
diminishing patch of brown. Bang!— a clear kill! Scien- 
tific shooting, indeed. I laughed at my amazed companion, 
but it was perfectly clear to me. The boy had become a 
man. The training of the schools, the ball field and ten- 
nis courts had developed mental balance, accurate judg- 
ment, and control of nerve. An alluring prospect opened 
before me. At least a dozen birds should grace my table 
and regale invited friends. Vain hope, born but to die. 
Never was a triumph more fleeting, nor expectation more 
completely crushed. That shot must have been fired 
backward, for there- followed the most convincing proof 
that my eye had not lost its obliquity of vision nor my left 
hand its gyratory motion. Day after day revealed my ab- 
solute dependence on the meat market. The flight of a 
grouse would set every nerve on the jump or cause tem- 
porary paralysis of every muscle. When at last the gun 
was fired, the shot would be so utterly meaningless that 1 
would catechise myself to see if I was sure of my mental 
