“But that was many snows afterwards. We had lost our Crows, and, anyway, we were going against the Shoshonis over by the mountains. We traveled two more sleeps, but now we were careful, for it was enemy country. Scouts went before us and behind us, also on our right and left. It was a good country for game and our scouts killed plenty of meat with their bows. “When we were camping the third time after the Crows fooled us, I awoke in the night. There was no moon. The still dark was soft and full of whispers. Snow was falling thick and the embers of our fire made spitting sounds. I put more wood on, and that wakened Kicking Bear and High Horse. Charging Cat was snoring. If there was no fighting or eating to do, he could sleep. We talked about the snow. It was going to be hard for us, but we were men, and the Shoshonis would not be looking for us in deep snow. Kicking Bear said, ‘_Dho_, it will be hard for us, and the Shoshonis will not expect us. But we are only men and we shall need help if this snow falls deep. Last time we made an offering and came back safe with seventy-five horses; but there was no snow. We must make an offering.’ “Our camp was in the brush by a creek, and there was a hill not far away. We could not see it, but we knew it was there and that is where the three of us went. Charging Cat was snoring, so we did not bother him. What came to us would come to him also. On top of the hill we raised our hands and our faces to where the sun goes down, for from thence comes the power to make live and to destroy. We wanted to live and to destroy our enemies. Kicking Bear had his pipe and he prayed, offering it to the power we needed. If we came home safe with many horses, we would give them all away. Only a few we would keep maybe, for hunting and war. Also, if we should win a great victory, we would dance again, piercing our flesh. When Kicking Bear had prayed, we said, ‘_hetchetu aloh_,’ and waited awhile with our hands and our faces to the dark sky, so that the power would go into us. All around us we could hear the still night whispering, and the snow was wet on my face. Then we left the pipe on the hill with the mouthpiece towards the sunset, and went back to where the lights of the low fires looked fuzzy in the snowfall. “When we had eaten in the morning and were walking again, the snow was three hand-breadths deep, and still it fell and whispered. The air was getting colder and the snow fell finer and finer until it was like white dust. It stopped before we made a camp, and the sun looked out when it was setting. We thought our prayer was heard on the dark hill and our offering accepted.