Masata By Alan L. Strang

    Masata was an Indian boy, he lived on the banks of the Ohio River in
    Kentucky. During the Revolutionary War in 1771, the Americans were
    taking over the land very fast, and when Masata was ten years old his
    parents moved to the wild regions of the Dakotas, taking Masata with
    them.

    Here he enjoyed life although it was much colder than in his native
    Kentucky, and in the Winter months he wore coats of fur made from bear
    skin.

    The days soon became filled with interesting things for Masata. One day
    when he was roaming through the wilds, he heard a wild buffalo
    approaching. He seemed almost helpless, as he had nothing but a small
    bow and a few arrows, and the buffalo was only a short distance from
    him. He began to run in what he thought was the direction of his home,
    but instead he was going in the opposite way. In a few minutes he saw
    the smoke of a camp fire and ran toward it. By this time the beast was
    very close to him and he was almost in despair, when the buffalo lurched
    forward, then rolled over dead. Three Indians hunting near by had hit
    him in a vital spot with an arrow.

    The Indians belonged to a tribe which was his father’s most bitter
    enemy, and they took him before their chief. The chief ordered that he
    be let live for two moons, and he was given a bed of dry twigs to sleep
    on as the night was drawing near.

    Time passed quietly for Masata until the approach of the morning of the
    second moon. He had been planning how he would escape from his father’s
    enemies. Finally one morning he slipped into a bear skin and hopped
    bravely off toward the woods. The Indians thinking he was a bear, shot
    arrows at him and wounded him in the right arm, but Masata kept
    bravely on and was soon out of range of the arrows. Then he bandaged his
    wounded arm the best he could and set out for his father’s wigwam.

    He arrived safely the same evening, and his parents were overjoyed to
    see him and know he was safe once more, and the tribe made a great
    feast, or as they call it, Pow Wow, as a welcome to his home coming.

    While Masata was still a young “brave” their chief died and after a
    great ceremony, Masata was made Chief of the tribes, and was known as
    great and good ruler.