Crow Country — 1967

Sam, then called Samson Hunts Alone, stood over the carcass of the mule deer he had just shot, cradling the heavy Winchester.30–30 in his arms.

"Did you thank the deer for giving its life up for you?" Pokey asked. As Samson's clan uncle, it was Pokey's job to teach the boy the ways of the Crow.

"I thanked him, Pokey."

"You know it is the Crow way to give your first deer away. Do you know who you will give it to?" Pokey grinned around the Salem he held between his lips.

"No, I didn't know. Who should I give it to?"

"It is a good gift for a clan uncle who has said many prayers for your success in finding a spirit helper on your vision quest."

"I should give it to you, then?"

"It is up to you, but a carton of cigarettes is a good gift too, if you have the money."

"I don't have any money. I will give you the deer." Samson Hunts Alone sat down on the ground by the deer carcass and hung his head. He sniffed to fight back tears.

Pokey kneeled beside him. "Are you sad for killing the deer?"

"No, I don't see why I have to give it away. Why can't I take it home and let Grandma cook it for all of us?" Pokey took the rifle from the boy, levered a cartridge into the chamber, then let out a war whoop and fired it into the air. Samson stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"You are a hunter now!" Pokey cried. "Samson Hunts Alone has killed his first deer!" he shouted to the sky. "Soon he will be a man!"

Pokey crouched down to the boy again. "You should be happy to give the deer away. You are Crow and it is the Crow way."

Sam looked up, his golden eyes shot with red and brimming with tears. "One of the boys at school says that the Crow are no more than thieves and scavengers. He said that the Crow are cowards because we never fought the white man."