After lunch, Singing Eagle lay down to rest, for he had been playing very hard that morning with the other children. When he awoke, he looked around and his eyes fairly jumped from his head. There at the foot of his bed was his first suit of clothing. Quickly he grasped them to him and hugged them, feeling how soft and pliable they were, following the many days of work. Quickly he slipped into the clothes and when he was completely dressed, ran from the wigwam to find his father and show him his beautiful clothes. Soon he found his father at the edge of the village talking with two other braves of the tribe. All excited, he pulled at his father’s sleeve until his father turned and noticing the clothes, quickly changed his expression from anger to one of surprise. “How handsome you look, my son. Your mother has done a fine job on your clothes. I wish that my shirts were as beautiful as the one you now wear upon your back. You look very much like a man now, my son.” Singing Eagle was very proud that his father had noticed his clothes and given him such fine compliments. But time was wasting. As was customary when a young Indian boy received his first full set of clothing to wear, the rest of the day was spent in showing off his new clothes to his many friends. And so that day, in a matter of a couple of hours, the whole Huron village knew that Singing Eagle had his first real Indian suit, made from a fine buck that his father had shot just for him. THE NEW TEPEE The Blackfoot village was all astir to greet the new day. It was late in the springtime, and the great hunters of the tribe had been off to hunt the buffalo. Word had just reached the village that the hunt was over and the hunting party was on the way home. This made Little Bird very happy, for she knew that her husband, Big Red Bear, would be returning to the tepee and that there would be much celebrating in the tribe. Everything must be made ready to greet the hunters. The women of the village began dashing around preparing for the arrival of the hunting party. There was much to be done and much work lay ahead, now that the buffalo had been killed. The meat must be stored and some of it smoked, and the hides must be turned into new tepee covers and robes. All this would take place after the celebration, but still the women of the tribe knew they had a long job ahead. The news was good. The hunt had been successful, and many buffalo had fallen before the weapons of the hunters. The buffalo had a good winter and were not thin or ragged. The grass had been full-grown and rich. Enough rain had fallen to provide the food and water necessary to make the buffalo fat and a good target for expert bowmen. Soon all was in readiness and everyone waited impatiently for the first signs of the returning hunters. And then the signal came! A young brave on a shaggy brown pony came dashing through the village, announcing the arrival of the hunters.