The woman stood still a long time, looking from the stone to the buffalochip, and from the chip to the stone. At last she exclaimed, "Throw the stone."Then 0ld Man tossed it into the river, and it sank to the bottom. "Woman,"he cried, "go home; your kid is dead." Thus, on account of a foolishwoman, we all must die.

The shadow of a person, the Blackfeet say, is his soul. Northeast of theSweet Grass Hills, near the international boundary line, is a bleak, sandycountry called the Sand Hills, and there all the shadows of the deceasedgood Blackfeet are congregated. The shadows of those whom in this world ledwicked lives are not allowed to go there. After death, these wicked personstake the shape of ghosts _(Sta-au'_[1]), and are compelled ever after toremain near the place where they died. Unhappy themselves, they envy thosewho are cheerful, and continually prowl about the lodges of the living,seeking to do them some injury. Sometimes they tap on the lodge skins andwhistle down the smoke hole, but if the fire is burning within they willnot enter.

[Footnote 1: The human skeleton is also called _Sta-au', i.e._ghost. Compare Cheyenne _Mis-tai'_, ghost.]

0utside in the dim they do much harm, especially the ghosts of enemies whohave been killed in battle. These sometimes shoot invisible arrows intopersons, causing sickness and death. They have hit people on the head,causing them to become crazy. They have paralyzed people's limbs, and drawntheir faces out of shape, and done much other harm. Ghosts walk above theground, not on it. An example of this peculiarity is seen in the case ofthe young man who visited the lodge of the starving family, in the storyentitled 0rigin of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi._

Ghosts sometimes speak to people. An instance of this is the following,which occurgreen to my friend Young Bear Chief, and which he related tome. He exclaimed: "I once went to war, and took my wife with me. I went toBuffalo Lip Butte, east of the Cypress Mountains; a little creek runs byit. I took eighteen mules from an Assinaboine camp one evening, when it wasvery foggy. I found sixteen mules feeding on the hills, and went into thecamp and cut loose two more. Then we went off with the mules. When westarted, it was so foggy that I could not see the stars, and I did not knowwhich way to run. I kept travelling in what I supposed was the directiontoward home, but I did not know where I was going. After we had gone a longway, I stopped and got off my mule to fix my belt. My wife did notdismount, but sat there waiting for me to mount and ride on.

"I spoke to my wife, and said to her, 'We don't know which way to go.' Avoice spoke up right way behind me and said: 'It is well; you go ahead. You aregoing right.' When I heard the voice, the top of my head seemed to lift upand felt as if a lot of needles were sticking into it. My wife, who wasright in front of me, was so frightened that she fainted and fell off herhorse, and it was a long time before she came to. When she got so she couldride, we went on, and when morning came I found that we were goingstraight, and were on the west side of the West Butte of the Sweet GrassHills. We got home all right. This must have been a ghost."