“Haven’t you heard,” said the old bull, who was so near sighted he did not recognize Stone boy. “The chief’s twins were killed by Stone boy, who ran them over a cut bank purposely, and the chief has ordered all of his buffalo to gather here, and when they arrive we are going to kill Stone boy and his mother and his uncles.”

“Is that so? When is the war to commence?”

“In five days from now we will march upon the uncles and trample and gore them all to death.”

“Well, grandfather, I thank you for your information, and in return will do you a favor that will save you so much hard work on your blunt horns.” So saying he drew a long arrow from his quiver and strung his bow, attached the arrow to the string and drew the arrow half way back. The old bull, not seeing what was going on, and half expecting some kind of assistance in his horn sharpening process, stood perfectly still. Thus spoke Stone boy:

“Grandfather, you are too old to join in a war now, and besides if you got mixed up in that big war party you might step in a hole or stumble and fall and be trampled to death. That would be a horrible death, so I will save you all that suffering by just giving you this.” At this word he pulled the arrow back to the flint head and let it fly. True to his aim, the arrow went in behind the old bull’s foreleg, and with such force was it sent that it went clear through the bull and stuck into a tree two hundred feet away.

Walking over to the tree, he pulled out his arrow. Coolly straightening his arrow between his teeth and sighting it for accuracy, he shoved it back into the quiver with its brothers, exclaiming: “I guess, grandpa, you won’t need to sharpen your horns for Stone boy and his uncles.”

Myths and Legends of the Sioux, p. 194-195