Long Bow for many moons had been the champion of the canoe racers in the Ottawa village and had accepted every challenge that had ever come his way. From the time he was a young boy he had spent many hours upon the waters of the great lake practicing his canoeing until he felt there wasn’t another boy in the tribe that could come at all close to beating him in a fair race. Soon the great hunt was upon them, and the warriors gathered their weapons and headed north to hunt the elusive deer. Whenever they went off on these hunts Black Rock, a short husky young warrior, always could be seen as the constant companion of Long Bow. As the hunting party trotted along the woodland trail getting farther and farther from the village, Black Rock and Long Bow would hold conversation in sentences with very few words. “I think we will have a good hunt, Long Bow.” “Yes, Black Rock, for the signs of deer in this area are many.” “We have had a good year, and if the gods bless us we will have another good year.” “Soon the winter will be upon us and we must wait a long time for the spring.” “Long Bow, you speak of the winter when here it is just late spring.” “It will be a long summer for me.” “Why so, friend Long Bow?” “It used to be that during the summer when we held our games and contests there would be excitement and thrills.” “Are there still not excitement and thrills for you?” “Black Rock, my friend, I have become so skilled that there are none left in our tribe who give me any competition.” “That is not a wise way to talk, Long Bow. One must never set himself above all others; that can be said only by the council.” As they continued along the trail, Black Rock said no more to his friend, and Long Bow did not seem concerned that his friend offered no more conversation. Soon they both forgot about the talk, for the hunting party had begun to split up in search of the game. For the next few hours the party made many fine shots and then it was time to return to the village. Each of the two braves had a fine buck strung upon a pole between them as they walked easily along the trail homeward. Once again Black Rock and Long Bow were a team. Now the excitement of the hunt was over and the catch was good, and all the braves were feeling very good about their success. And so as a result there was much talk and laughing and joking about the misses and successful shots. Long Bow noticed that Black Rock was especially quiet as they walked along the trail. “Black Rock, my friend, what makes your tongue so still? You have made a fine kill this day and there will be much fresh meat for the village, yet you walk with a heavy step and your voice is still.” “I am silent for a good reason, Long Bow my friend, for I fear that if I speak my heart will speak rather than my lips.”