He waits. The sharp wind that strips the tree of leaves
and makes tall grasses bow shows no effect on the watchful warrior,
his face determined, his senses alert. Perhaps the wind carries
enemy voices or the roar of a buffalo herd pounding the earth.
A curious tranquility pervades the setting as the Sun
Father offers a distant warmth. The Indian knows the time will
come.
Vigilance: his way of life depends on this.
"Everything as it moves, now and then, here and
there, makes stops. The bird as it flies stops in one place to
make its nest, and in another to rest in its flight. A man when
he goes forth stops when he wills. So the god has stopped. The
sun, which is so bright and beautiful, is one place where he has
stopped. The moon, the stars, the winds, he has been with. The
trees, the animals, are all where he has stopped, and the Indian
thinks of these places and sends his prayers there to reach the
place where the god has stopped and win help and a blessing."
