“Sometimes these two stars separate and travel alone through the sky. I have also seen them together in the evening sky, going down after the sun. Now they are together in the morning. You can see them before dawn. Scarface comes up first, his father soon after, and then his grandfather, the Sun.” When the old chief ended his talk, no one spoke for a while, because of the magic of his words and the spell of the night. Suddenly a bright meteor flashed across the heavens and burst into a shower of sparks near the horizon. Some of the Indians thought it an evil omen. But Brings-Down-the-Sun said: “That falling star is a sign a great chief has just died—a man who had a good heart and lived a straight life. The Sun God is all-powerful; he sees everything and watches over every one. “And now our story-telling is ended, for the dogs have separated, having had their evening meal.” After Brings-Down-the-Sun and his followers had gone and our Indians were asleep in their tepees, I lay on my blanket-bed under the cottonwoods, thinking of Star Boy and Scarface, and watching the moon, very broad and big, mount slowly into a cloudless heaven, higher and higher, until the great trees were bathed in its silvery light. I heard the night wind in the trees, the murmuring of the river, and once the mournful cry of some night bird. In the peace and quiet of that wilderness camp, my home in civilization seemed like another world. At dawn I wakened and saw our women making a fire to cook breakfast. After a plunge in the cold river, I went to find our horses, along the wooded trail in the valley, past the silent white lodges of the North Piegans. Out on the open prairie a gentle breeze was blowing, bearing the sweet fragrance of woods and meadows. In the east were the two bright morning stars in conjunction, Star Boy and his father, the planets Jupiter and Venus. Star Boy (Jupiter) came up first, and was followed by Morning Star. The first birds were chirping in the thickets and from the hills came the wailing cries of bands of coyotes. Soon a rosy glow spread over the Rocky Mountains, over the snow-capped peaks and the forests of the lower slopes. By the time I found our horses, the sun itself came up and flooded the prairies with light. When our lodges were down and wagons packed, Brings-Down-the-Sun came to say farewell, leading his favorite horse, Soks-kinne (Loud Voice). Soks-kinne was a handsome stallion with silvery mane and tail, the fastest race horse of the North Piegans. What a chest he had! Long legs and brightest of eyes. The old chief cared for him as for an old and faithful friend. But he led his horse forth and gave him to us. When we refused to take him, Brings-Down-the-Sun handed me his favorite pipe of redstone, and said: