“He will be well again soon, won’t he, father? He will be able to run as fast as before?” His father smiled down at Chincho. “Is that what you want, my son?” he asked. “Oh, yes, father. He must be well again. Because he won the foot race fairly, I have often wished that he would be hurt. Now that it has really happened, I am sorry. I will never wish harm for any friend again. Only then will I be a true son to my father and a true Iroquois brave.” While Chincho and his father were talking, the other braves cut two saplings and tied branches across them to make a stretcher to carry the boy. Chincho’s father held his son’s hand as the other braves lifted the boy onto the stretcher. “You have spoken wisely, my son. Do not worry. Maseca will soon be well enough to race and hunt and fish again with you.” Chincho smiled up at his father and turned his head to look proudly at the large buck that two braves were carrying, hung by its feet from a sapling stretched across their shoulders. The next night there was a special council fire. Two young braves were lying on stretchers, side by side, at the place of honor. At their sides, stood their fathers. Then the Chief told the tribe about the bravery and hunting skill and strength of these two boys. “They will be great braves, worthy of the Iroquois nation,” he said solemnly. Chincho’s and Maseca’s fathers glanced proudly down at their sons. LITTLE BEAR’S FIRST HUNT Little Bear opened his eyes and looked around his wickiup home. As the sleep left his eyes, he noticed that his father’s bed was empty and that he was alone. Quickly he threw off his buffalo robe and ran to the door of the wickiup. Pushing aside the deerskin he looked out into the small Apache camp. There was quite a bit of activity. Everyone was hurrying about. Although it was still very early, the cooking fires were burning brightly, and the women of the tribe were busy preparing a hot meal. Then he remembered that today was the day of the big hunt. Little Bear ran quickly through the village searching for his father, Swift Eagle. Finally after asking several of his friends, he was told that his father could probably be found at the corral. Soon he saw his father looking over the horses. Swift Eagle was telling young braves which horses to select for his use on the hunt. “Father,” called Little Bear, “why did you not waken me when the dawn came? There has been much excitement since the sun first broke through the night, but you did not wake me.” “My son, I wanted you to rest, for today is the day of the big hunt. Soon the warriors will be gathering and we will be ready to leave for the feeding grounds of the great buffalo. Now I must check the horses, for we must take only the young and the strong. This will be a long and hard Journey.”