“No, Black Hawk, Crooked Arrow has no family, and I have liked living here on the edge of the village. It is quiet and I get much time to work on my tools for fishing and hunting. I like it here.” Black Hawk stayed until it was quite late and he noticed that Crooked Arrow talked on and on about many, many things. Finally it was getting very late and Black Hawk rose to leave. “Come again, little Black Hawk. My wigwam is always open to my good friend. The next time you come we will have another fine talk.” “Thank you, friend Crooked Arrow. I shall return often for you have been a good friend.” With that, Black Hawk turned and walked to his own wigwam. As he approached his home he noticed his father just leaving. When Tall Hawk saw his son, he stopped and called to him. “Black Hawk, my son, where have you been? It is quite late and your mother was getting quite concerned.” “I was visiting with a friend, my father, a very good friend.” It was then that Black Hawk spoke with his father about the events on the fishing trip and about how Crooked Arrow had knelt at the lakeside and thanked the Great Spirit for his friend, Black Hawk. His father listened attentively and then when Black Hawk had finished he said, “My son, I am very proud of you. You have done a great and generous thing. Crooked Arrow has been a lonely person. You have brought much joy to his life. To have a friend is a wonderful thing.” “But, my father, if this is such a wonderful thing, why has no one befriended him before? Why does he still live alone on the edge of the tribe? Why is he alone on the hunt though he is with many braves?” “He is not an easy person to talk to, my son. You, a boy, have spoken to him as an equal; this has meant much to him. The rest of us should be ashamed. We have been so busy that we have not taken time out to look at what is around us. It has taken a young Indian boy to bring to our attention this lack of concern for a fellow member of the tribe. If he had been a worthless brave who had sought pity and help from others, the treatment he had been given would have been what he deserved.” But in thinking back, Tall Hawk realized that Crooked Arrow had always carried his share of the responsibility in the tribe. When a hunting party was forming, he always volunteered; when a battle was in progress, Crooked Arrow was always found to be in the middle. When there was distasteful jobs to be done around the village or a new lodge to be built or some repairs needed or someone to stand night watch, Crooked Arrow would always be among the first to volunteer. Yes, thought Tall Hawk, here is a man who has been treated with scorn who should have been treated with honor by his fellow braves. The following day after giving much thought to the question, Tall Hawk went to consult with the leaders of the village.