The women amused themselves by gambling with four bones, which they threw upon the ground and called by name. Men used four hiding-sticks of bone, one marked with a black ring. They had two sides, each with a leader who was an expert in handling the bones. The side with the bones drummed with sticks on the lodge-poles; they sang songs while they played, and made jibes and tried to rattle the guessers. These gambling songs were sung with spirit and a marked rhythm, beginning in a low tone and increasing in volume, until it reached a high pitch; then sank again to a low pass, alternately rising and falling and gradually died away. In this way the play went on until one side lost all the counting-sticks. The players wagered weapons, horses, saddles, sometimes their tepees and everything they possessed. Children liked to coast on snowdrifts down the steep slopes of the valley, on a sort of toboggan made of animal ribs lashed to cross-sticks; or they sat on pieces of rawhide and held up the front with their hands. Boys spun wooden tops in the soft snow, driving them over the surface with whips having lashes of buckskin or bark. They also played a game on the ice, using smooth stones like tops. They played in pairs, spinning the stones by whipping and driving them together. The top which spun the longest was the winner. They used pebble tops on hard snow, making them jump while spinning across the holes, by striking them with their whips. On a stormy night, I sat with the Mad Wolf family around a comfortable lodge-fire, listening to the beating of snow and sleet. It was just the night for ghosts. In the roar of the storm, everything sounded strange and mysterious. The singing of burning wood in our fire was like far-off voices. The bawling of the frightened cattle and barking of our dogs seemed faint and far away. Suddenly a violent squall shook the tepee and the door blew open. The old woman Gives-to-the-Sun cried out: “A ghost came in! I felt its cold touch! See the smoke whirl! And the dogs gave the ghost-bark.” Said Strikes-on-Both-Sides, my Indian sister: “Of late many ghosts have been around. They do not like the Sand Hills. They are restless and come back to visit their old haunts. The night we camped on Two Medicine, the ghost of our old friend Running Rabbit came from a clump of trees and frightened our horses. His ghost was so near we feared he might touch us.” “And why were you afraid of that?” I asked. “It is sure death to be touched by a ghost,” said my Indian sister. “I remember after Running Rabbit died, his ghost came back and took his wife to the Spirit World. She and her daughter were on their way to the home of Bull Calf. The mother felt a cold touch and turned to look. Suddenly she fell to the ground and lay as if dead. When her spirit came back, she said to her daughter: ‘Your father came and touched me. He wants me to go back with him.’