COLD MAKER'S MEDICINE
 THE last lodge had been set up in the Blackfeet winter camp. Evening was closing over the travel-tired
people. The sun had dropped beyond the hills not far away. Women were bringing water from the river
at the edge of the great circle. Men gathered in quiet groups, weary after the long march of the
day. Children called sleepily to each other, and the dogs sniffed about in well-fed content.
Lone Feather wrapped his robe more closely around him and walked slowly from his lodge door and from
the camp, off toward the north. He was thinking of many things, and hardly noticed where he was
going. Presently as he walked, he heard the sound of persons talking. He stopped to listen. The
sound came from a lodge made of stone, close by the river. Quietly he went toward the lodge and saw
a thin blue line of smoke coming from the top.
 As he approached, an old woman, bent with age and crippled, came from the lodge door and looked at
"Will you come into my lodge?" she said, greeting him.
Lone Feather looked at her for a moment in silence. She spoke again. He could not understand her
speech, for she belonged to another tribe. By signs she made him know that she wished him to come
into her lodge and rest. Lone Feather entered.
Far back from the door crouched two big grizzly bears. She made signs to show that the bears were
friendly, and Lone Feather sat down near the door. She stirred the fire, and as she put on fresh
wood the sparks flew up toward the smoke hole, which was opened only a little way.
By signs she told him she would go out and open the smoke hole wider, so that the fire might burn
more brightly. She was gone for some time, and Lone Feather sat looking into the fire, still
thinking of many things, when the air became thick with smoke. He looked up and saw that the smoke
hole was closed. He
 sprang up and went to the door, but the door covering was down. He raised it, and as he put his head
out the old woman hit him with a large stone club and he was dead.
Before his spirit started for the Sand Hills he saw that with a large knife she cut up his body and
put the pieces into a pot. Soon they were well cooked and the old woman and the two bears feasted on
They threw his bones out of the door, where they fell among many others like them. The ground was
strewn with the bones of the persons she had trapped and killed.
Day by day other persons disappeared from the winter camp, and more and more bones whitened on the
ground outside the stone lodge on the river bank.
As Cold Maker was bringing the snow to the Blackfeet winter camp, he passed the Sand Hills. Lone
Feather and other ghosts from the Blackfeet tribe were telling each other how the old woman had
sent them there. Cold Maker heard their stories and he was angry.
When he reached the camp he went to the
 lodge of Broken Bow—a brave young man, but very poor.
He shivered when Cold Maker entered his lodge and drew his ragged robe about him. They were close
"Would you like to have a new robe?" asked Cold Maker.
"Yes," said Broken Bow.
"Come with me. You may kill two grizzly bears," said Cold Maker.
"My bow is broken. I cannot," said Broken Bow sadly.
"I will help you. Bring only a knife."
Together they went from the lodges toward the north. The sun was already hidden behind the nearby
After they had travelled some distance they heard the sound of voices. They listened. Two bears were
complaining that they wanted meat. A woman told them they must wait. The men saw the line of thin
blue smoke rising from the top of the lodge of stone. All about whitening bones covered the ground.
They went nearer.
Soon an old woman, bent with age and
crip-  pled, came from the door and smiled as she saw the two persons coming.
"Come in and rest," she said. Broken Bow did not understand her language, but Cold Maker, who
understands all tribes, said, "We are cold. Will you let us sit by your fire?"
The old woman smiled again.
"You are welcome," she said; "come in. Do not fear my bears. They are friendly. They will not harm
you." The two friends entered the lodge, where a smouldering fire sent a feeble smoke up to the
smoke hole, that was partly open. She put fresh wood on the fire and said, "I will open the smoke
hole wider," and went out, dropping the door covering as she went.
Then she closed the smoke hole. The smoke began to fill the top of the lodge. It settled lower and
lower. Broken Bow was afraid.
"Give me your pipe," said Cold Maker.
Broken Bow filled his pipe and handed it to him. He lighted it by a brand from the fire, and sent
great puffs of smoke curling upward. This smoke met the other smoke and stopped it. It could not
descend any lower.
 Broken Bow saw the wonderful medicine of his friend. He was no longer afraid, but wondered what Cold
Maker would do next. The grizzly bears growled low.
The old woman outside called to them, "Friends, is it smoking in there now?"
"Not a bit," replied Cold Maker. "We are very comfortable."
She waited. They did not come out. She stood near the door. Her stone club was ready. She grew
impatient. She wondered' what had gone wrong with her plans. The two friends were silent. She looked
at the smoke hole, but it was closed securely. She lifted the door covering to see if the friends
within had died. They sat perfectly still. She entered to look more closely, and as soon as she was
fairly in-side Cold Maker and Broken Bow rushed out and dropped the door covering. Before she could
move they piled great heaps of stone in the door-way. The bears growled. She called for help. Cold
Maker and Broken Bow went on down the river.
Then Cold Maker took from a little sack a
 few white eagle-down feathers. He blew them from him. At once a fierce storm blew across the valley.
The bitter cold froze the water, but only in this one place. It dammed the stream with fast forming
ice. The water rose higher and higher. It spread out over the banks. Cold Maker and Broken Bow went
far off on the hills and watched it. Little by little it rose. It reached the stone lodge. The bears
roared. The woman screamed. The water reached the top and covered the lodge from sight. All sound
ceased. A moment more, and the water was quiet. Once more Cold Maker blew from him a few white
eagle-down feathers. The storm subsided. It became warm again. The ice melted. The water retreated
to its channel.
Cold Maker and Broken Bow went to the stone lodge. The woman was lying beside the pot. The grizzly
bears were close to the stones which blocked the door-way.
Cold Maker said, "Here is your new robe," and Broken Bow took from the bears their thick, warm
 On his way home Cold Maker again passed the Sand Hills. Entering the country was an old woman bent
with age and crippled.
He hurried on.
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