The sun seemed to move very slowly for all the Crow boys. But soon a young brave on a frisky pony rode swiftly through the village to tell them to gather for the hunt. Grey Calf leaped upon his pony’s back and sped to the edge of the village where the other young braves were gathering. When all had gathered and were seated on the ground, One Horn spoke. “A small group of buffalo has wandered away from the main herd,” he said. “It is from this small group that we shall choose our targets. I will inspect each young brave’s weapons in turn. When all are satisfactory, we shall move out in the direction of the small herd. Do not ride hard but move your pony slowly. Buffalo will not go far in this heat. We shall have plenty of time to come near them, take our positions quietly, and then attack together without warning.” When One Horn had finished examining each young brave’s weapons, the small band moved out in single file. Soon they sighted the buffalo. One Horn gave hand signals to the young braves to spread out and take their positions silently, but above all to wait for the signal from One Horn to attack. As slowly and quietly as possible, each young brave moved into position. All eyes were on One Horn, and suddenly he gave the signal. The air was torn apart as wild yelps leaped from the throats of the eager young hunters. The buffalo were startled and began running about wildly. The boys dug their heels into their ponies’ sides and headed into the group of buffalo. Soon the dust clouds were so heavy that one could not tell the hunters from the hunted, but the young braves rode swiftly, each hunter picking out his buffalo carefully and with an eye to size. This was to be the first of many buffalo kills, and each young brave hoped that his would be the largest of the beasts brought down. Buffalo after buffalo began to stumble and fall before the accurate shooting of the young hunters. The ponies were magnificent in their performance, for each had been carefully trained for this day. As quickly as the hunt had started it was over. One by one the young braves returned to One Horn who had seen their great success. Soon they were once again at their starting point. They knew that the remaining buffalo would tire and, knowing they were no longer being chased, would begin to mill and settle down once again. One Horn gazed proudly upon the field of battle. Twelve plump shaggy beasts lay dead upon the prairie. Every brave had made his kill. There would be much rejoicing in the village that evening. One Horn told the young braves how to prepare their kills for the return to the village, and they went to work immediately. Their adventure this afternoon would mean much food for the tribe and new clothing for the coming winter and horns and tails to decorate their costumes and tepees.