This story is about two such adventurous young Oneida Indians that winter. Naltan and Ceysoda were outstanding young boys of their tribe. Time and time again before winter set in, they had taken part in the games and contests of the tribe, and one or the other had won each time. This had continued until the other young boys in the village decided that Naltan and Ceysoda were just too good for them, and that something must be done to prevent their running away with all the prizes. So one fall day, when they were sure that Ceysoda and Naltan were not around, all the youngsters gathered to discuss a plan. On the following day, there were to be foot races in the village. The group plotted that at the start of the foot race, two of the faster young braves would trip Naltan and Ceysoda so that they would fall and thus be put out of the race. The boys who had tripped them would be scored out of the race, too, but at least they would have the satisfaction of knowing that someone besides Naltan and Ceysoda would win the foot race for a change. Just at that moment they saw Naltan coming around one of the wigwams, and they all started walking away in different directions. Naltan walked up to one of the leaders of the group and asked: “What have I missed, friend Beartooth? Ceysoda and I have been busy repairing and sharpening our hunting weapons. We did not know that there was to be a meeting of all the boys of the village.” Beartooth was quick to recover from his surprise and then in a very calm voice said: “Oh, Naltan, that was no meeting of all the boys. It was merely a few of us talking about the foot races tomorrow and the weather. It has been very cold, and soon winter will be here with her snow and winds and bitter cold. Tomorrow we are going to have the foot races. So we were talking about who we thought would be victorious.” “Do you think there are any among you who can defeat Ceysoda and me in the foot race, Beartooth? If you do, you had better forget about it,” Naltan boasted. “Ceysoda and I will win the race tomorrow, as we always do.” “We shall see,” said Beartooth with a note of warning in his voice. “We shall see.” Then he turned and walked away from Naltan toward his father’s wigwam. Naltan shrugged his shoulders and, thinking no more about it, dashed off to find Ceysoda. He looked all around the camp and finally found him practicing with his bow and arrow a short distance from the village. Naltan told him what Beartooth had said. Ceysoda was silent for a few moments, thinking. “Naltan, my friend,” he said, “I have a strange feeling that our brothers plot against us. I have no good reason for feeling this way, but I can’t help it. For some reason our friends have planned a way to make us lose the race. What it is and how I know I cannot tell you, but the feeling is upon me.” “You are foolish, Ceysoda. The fact that we have won many contests and games from our friends surely wouldn’t give them a reason to plot any harm.”