As we crossed the summit, I saw black clouds coming up across the western horizon. They had an ominous look, extending into the north like a great wall; they ascended towards the zenith and were advancing over the entire sky. There was a strange stillness. The air was sultry with no wind; birds and insects were silent. Then came a vivid flash of lightning, a deafening peal of thunder, and after a stillness a second peal. Suddenly a strange moan seemed to fill the air. Sinister-looking clouds swept down from the Divide. I heard a roar like ocean surf and the tempest burst with hurricane force, bearing masses of rock and shale and whirling the water of the lake into the air. A canvas pack cover was caught by the wind and carried towards the sky. It soared over camp like a monstrous bird, frightening our horses which stampeded through thickets and snowdrifts. In spite of the gale our tepee held fast. We anchored it securely by a lariat noosed round the apex of the poles and made fast to strongly driven stakes; and weighted down the pegs and sides of the lodge with stones. The bottom, too, was sheltered from the wind by thickets of gnarled and stunted spruces. For three days and nights a heavy wind with rain and sleet blew out of the northwest. But our Indian tepee was a snug shelter. We lay by our lodge-fire, cosy and comfortable. In my warm blanket-bed, I liked to listen to the roar of the wind in the spruces, the creaking of the lodge-poles, and the beating of rain and sleet. We had sumptuous meals of trout, and tenderloin and heart of a Rocky Mountain ram, which the scout had killed near the summit. He passed the time telling me about his home and Indian tribe. He told about their ancient customs and strange religious beliefs, Indian legends and tribal tales about the very region where we were camped. Now an Indian is generally slow to speak his innermost thoughts and to talk about his religious beliefs. But during that big storm, the scout was in the mood to talk. He said: “The Sun is the Great Power. He is in the birds and wild animals, lakes and streams, prairies and mountains. He brings the leaves in the spring-time. He makes the grass and berries grow; and upon them the birds and animals depend for life. “The Thunder is a great bird. It flies with the clouds, and brings the rain. From its eyes the lightnings flash. “The blizzard is a person, who runs before the storm and shoots his arrows. “Long ago an Indian, who camped in this valley, saw the Wind Maker rise from the waters of a lake. He was like a monster bull elk. When he flapped his ears, the wind blew hard; and when he sank again beneath the water, the wind went down.