nearly all the other boys, one squaw and four
half-grown girls at once followed him as he pursued the retreating form
of One-eye. It was quite a procession, but some of its members staggered
a little in their walk, and there was no running. Even the excitement of
the moment could get no more than a rapid stride out of the old chief
himself. He was well in advance of all others, and at the edge of the
expanse of sage-brush in which One-eye disappeared he was compelled to
pause for breath. Before it had fully come to him he needed it for
another whoop of delight.

Along the path in front of him, erect and proud, but using the shaft of
his lance as a walking-stick, came his own triumphant boy hunter. Not
one word did the youngster utter, but he silently turned in his tracks,
beckoning his father to follow.

It was but a few minutes after that and they stood together in front of
the dead bull bison. The boy pointed at the arrow almost buried in the
shaggy chest, and then he sat down; hunger and fatigue and excitement
had done their work upon him, and he could keep his feet no longer. He
even permitted One-eye to lick his hands and face in a way no Indian dog
is in the habit of doing. Other warriors came crowding around the great
trophy, and the old chief waited while they examined all and made their
remarks. They were needed as witnesses of the exact state of affairs,
and they all testified that this arrow, like the other, had been
wonderfully well driven. The old chief sat down before the bull and
slowly pulled out the weapon. He looked at it, held it up, streaming
with the blood of the animal it had brought down, and said:

"Long Bear is a great chief. Great brave. Tell all people the young
chief Two ARROWS. Boy got a name. Whoop!"

The youngster was on his feet in a moment, and One-eye gave a sharp,
fierce bark, as if he also was aware that something great had happened
and that he had a share in it. It was glory enough for one day, and the
next duty on hand was to repair the damages of their long fasting. Two
Arrows and his dog walked proudly at the side of the Long Bear as he led
the way back to the camp. No longer a nameless boy, he was still only in
his apprenticeship; he was not yet a warrior, although almost to be
counted as a "brave," as his title indicated. It would yet be a long
time before he could be permitted to go upon any war-path, however he
might be assured of a good pony when there should be hunting t