Here We Saw His Young Indian Relative, The Hail- Storm, His Light Graceful Figure On The Ground In An Easy Attitude, While With His Friend The Rabbit, Who Sat By His Side, He Was Making An Abundant Meal From A Wooden Bowl Of Wasna, Which The Squaw Had Placed Between Them.

Near him lay the fresh skin of a female elk, which he had just killed among the mountains, only a mile or two from the camp.

No doubt the boy's heart was elated with triumph, but he betrayed no sign of it. He even seemed totally unconscious of our approach, and his handsome face had all the tranquillity of Indian self-control; a self-control which prevents the exhibition of emotion, without restraining the emotion itself. It was about two months since I had known the Hail-Storm, and within that time his character had remarkably developed. When I first saw him, he was just emerging from the habits and feelings of the boy into the ambition of the hunter and warrior. He had lately killed his first deer, and this had excited his aspirations after distinction. Since that time he had been continually in search of game, and no young hunter in the village had been so active or so fortunate as he. It will perhaps be remembered how fearlessly he attacked the buffalo bull, as we were moving toward our camp at the Medicine-Bow Mountain. All this success had produced a marked change in his character.

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