. Rod and gun . his old man with the large head, but heasked, Why do you do this? The old man looked at him until hetrembled, but said nothing. Again heasked the question, but the old man onlylooked angry. A third time he asked it,and the old man threw the stone at himand hurt his arm. Then the young manturned away, and ran to the camp as fastas he could. Our young man has come back witha bad arm, but we are still hungry. Hehas no meat, said the old men. The hunter told what he had old men said, This old man is trulyInk-to-mni, the man of the big head, hewho can call the birds. It is
. Rod and gun . his old man with the large head, but heasked, Why do you do this? The old man looked at him until hetrembled, but said nothing. Again heasked the question, but the old man onlylooked angry. A third time he asked it,and the old man threw the stone at himand hurt his arm. Then the young manturned away, and ran to the camp as fastas he could. Our young man has come back witha bad arm, but we are still hungry. Hehas no meat, said the old men. The hunter told what he had old men said, This old man is trulyInk-to-mni, the man of the big head, hewho can call the birds. It is well he letyou come home. We will not disturbhim when he plays. We will call this,Sah-go-win skah-day Wapta, the riverwhere the old man plays. That is why we call it the Old Mansplaying river. The white men call itonly the Old Mans river. They do notknow that the great Ink-to-mni still playsthere. We have heard the rolling of thestones many times when we hunted inthe hills, but no man has seen him formanv A Dogs Faithful Vigil BY AUGTST WOLF. WHERE the chill winds sweep andihe snow swirls and drifts, andforms great overhanging combsto break into slides with the ap-proach of spring, a dog maintains its lone-ly vigil on the summit of the ridges ra-diating from the St. Joe divide in theCanir dAlene country, in the panhandleof Idaho, east of Spokane. Although par-ties have searched the hills, no one hasbeen able to solve the mystery of the can-ines faithful watch, but enough is knownto justify the belief that the spot was thescene of a tragedy, and that when thesnow melts under the chinook winds andthe July sun, another remarkable instanceof a dogs devotion to its master, evenunto death, will have been recorded. Frank Hathaway, a linotype operatoremployed by the Press, at Wallace. Idaho,in the heart of the silver-lead mining dis-trict, crossed the trail over the St. Joedivide, returning from a hunting trip, be-fore the first snow fell last fall. Whilepassing through a large
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectf, booksubjecthunting
