Elk Horn's Stalk

In the morning, Elk Horn thought, they would hunt the whitetail. Just a few miles south of where he sat there was a small group of them. They were in an area of thick brush and lush grasses. When he had been crossing through there, as he came back to the village with a long haul of firewood, he had seen a huge buck, horns as big as the elk they hunted in the north. His medicine was on that deer and if he managed to kill him with his small hickory bow, his medicine would grow stronger and in battle he would not die. He sat beside his father, who would lead the group. His father reached behind himself and pulled a large 'coonskin bag to his lap. From the bag he took out a pair of black leggins. "Elk Horn" was all he said and handed the walnut stained buckskin leggings to his youngest son. Elk Horn knew they were to be worn on his first deer hunt tomorrow. He laid them beside his bedroll and stared into the fire and looked up as the smoke seeped through the smoke hole at the top of the wigwam. Tomorrow was a big day for him, he had killed rabbits and even killed a turkey but tomorrow he would be tested because he was to take a mature and wiley whitetail. they would be gone a few days too, Elk Horn had never been away from the camp for more than a day. He laid back and dreamed of tomorrow's hunt.