and ran with it to the camp, and all the
chiefs were called together to decide what should be done with the
bird. Some said, "Let us kill it," but Napi said, "No, I will punish
it," and he tied it up over the lodge, right in the smoke hole.

As the days went by the raven grew thin and weak and its eyes were
blinded by the thick smoke, and it cried continually to Napi asking
him to pity it. One day Napi untied the bird and told it to take its
right shape, and then said, "Why have you tried to fool Napi? Look
at me. I cannot die. Look at me. Of all peoples and tribes I am the
chief. I cannot die. I made the mountains; they are standing yet. I
made the prairies and the rocks; you see them yet.

"Go home now to your wife and your child, and when you are hungry
hunt like any one else. If you do not, you shall die."

THE CAMP OF THE GHOSTS

There was once a man who loved his wife dearly. After they had been
married for a time they had a little boy. Some time after that the
woman grew sick and did not get well. She was sick for a long time.
The young man loved his wife so much that he did not wish to take a
second woman. The woman grew worse and worse. Doctoring did not seem
to do her any good. At last she died.

For a few days after this, the man used to take his baby on his back
and travel out away from the camp, walking over the hills, crying
and mourning. He felt badly, and he did not know what to do.

After a time he said to the little child, "My little boy, you will
have to go and live with your grandmother. I shall go away and try
to find your mother and bring her back."

He took the baby to his mother's lodge and asked her to take care
of it and left it with her. Then he started away, not knowing where
he was going nor what he should do.

When he left the camp, he travelled toward the Sand Hills. On the
fourth night of his journeying he had a dream. He dreamed that he
went into a little lodge in which was an old woman. This old woman
said to him, "Why are you here, my son?"

The young man replied, "I am mourning day and night, crying all the
while. My little son, who is the only one left me, also mourns."

"Well," asked the old woman, "for whom are you mourning?"

The young man answered, "I am mourning for my wife. She died some
time ago. I am looking for her."

"Oh, I saw her," said the old woman; "she passed this way. I myself
have no great power to help you, but over by that far butte beyond,