“We rode towards where the sun comes up when the summer days are long. The world was young and wide as day, and we were going almost to the end of it beyond Mini Shoshay [the Missouri]. We crossed the Rosebud and the Tongue and the Powder, and there were no enemies. The young grass was getting strong for our horses, and there were deer and elk in plenty, so that, man and horse, we feasted every night. “There was story-telling around the fire when we had feasted; and there was always one I did not hear the end of, being over-full of meat and heavy sleep. When I had to take my turn along with older horse-guards; it was like a wonderful story with no one to tell it out there under the stars, listening to the horses chewing and blowing, and watching every shadow all around. It made me feel tall and brave, and something was always about to happen all at once, so I did not feel like sleeping. “In the daytime we were often merry; and if someone started singing, we would all sing together. That made the horses feel good, and maybe one would neigh and start the others neighing. “Where we could not see far, there would be riders out ahead of us and off on both sides to watch for enemies. Sometimes when we were walking the horses slowly to rest them, somebody would start a funny story, and others would crowd close to take it from him and go on with it. There was one about the young woman bear who saw a handsome young hunter; and right away she loved him so much that she made up her mind to have him for her man. This was very hard on the young hunter, and it got harder and harder the longer the story became. He did not want to shoot anybody who loved him so much, but he did not want to be her man either. Sometimes he would think he had lost her at last; but just at the wrong time she would show up again. “Maybe there was a pretty girl and he had been sneaking around a long while, trying to make her talk to him. And at last he would catch her down by the creek when she was getting water for her mother, and they would be talking. Then that woman bear would rush out of the brush groaning and with tears running down her face, because she loved him so much. And when the girl screamed and ran and he turned and ran too, the bear would chase him--maybe up a tree. “Then maybe the handsome young hunter had the girl for his woman at last, and the bear would sneak into his tepee in the night just at the wrong time, and there would be a big woman fight in there, and all the people would come yelling to see who might be killing somebody.