“My young son, it is long past your bedtime and you should have closed your ears to the night noises of the prairie many hours ago. But I must also say that I am proud to have you as a son and tomorrow we shall talk and I shall tell you all about the hunt.” Slow Tongue turned to leave his son’s side when he heard a noise at the entrance of his tepee. “Slow Tongue,” a voice called quietly, “it is I, Seeing Bear. Come, I must speak with you.” Slow Tongue left the tepee. “Why do you call me from my tepee so late in the night, Sleeping Bear,” he asked. “I am tired and my buffalo robe beckons to me to come and wrap myself in its warm folds, for my body aches.” “Look, Slow Tongue! Look to the north! At first I thought the heat of the day had made me see things that do not exist. But now I am sure it has not. Look and tell me what you see.” Slow Tongue turned his head to the north and gazed out into the darkness of the night. Far in the distance he saw a red glow which disappeared, appeared again, and disappeared many times. “What can it mean, Slow Tongue?” “It is a message, Seeing Bear. The fire signal tells that the tribes of the plains are gathering for the Sun Dance. Truly this is great news. Tomorrow we must break camp and leave for the northern meadow of the Blue Star, for it is there that the great celebrations will be held. You go to the southern part of the village and I will go to the northern part, and we will spread the word. It is late and many are asleep, but surely this is news for which they will be glad to be awakened.” The next morning there was great excitement in the Cree village. The gathering for the Sun Dance not only meant gathering to celebrate the greatest religious ceremony of the plains Indians, but it also meant that it would be a time for great feasts, mock battles, ceremonial hunts, and the recounting of the past year’s experience with many old friends. And, of course, the men looked forward to smoking the ceremonial pipes which was also a part of this great occasion. The tribe had soon broken down its village and packed and the great procession headed north toward the meadow of the Blue Star. For two days and two nights the Cree village moved northward. Their progress was slow but steady, and there was much gaiety. There was much to look forward to, and many of the younger braves could hardly be kept from rushing on ahead of the tribe. Soon other tribes began to join the Cree in their trek north. In all directions smoke signals could be seen, sent up by eager messengers reporting the movements of the tribes as they converged on the sacred grounds. It was very clear to Swift Hawk now that friend and enemy were walking side by side. This was one time during the year when the burning desire to strike out at your enemy was replaced by a stronger desire to do worship together in the hope of a good year to come.