Once, there was a Indian boy who belonged to a large Indian nation somewhere in the Midwest. His name was Little Fox, now Little Fox was not little by any means. He stood as high as the corn in the field before harvest time. He weighed almost as much as a new pony in his second summer. Not very little was he? Well, Little Fox's greatest desire was to have his name changed to Clever Fox. He thought that all his knowledge of hunting and his outdoor skills and abilities should warrant the tribal council changing his name.

One night at the end of the tribal council fire, the chief, Grey Eagle stood up and made the announcement that the council was ready to hear any young bucks' claim that he should become a brave of the tribe. You were not considered a man until you were made a brave. This was also the only time that a brave could have his name changed. Little Fox had been very nervous all night. In fact he could hardly sit still. He knew in his beating heart that tonight he would become a man. But still he held back, after all he didn't want to appear too anxious even though he could hardly contain himself. I'm sure you fellows know what I'm talking about, how when you may have done something that you were really proud of and you just couldn't wait to tell someone, anyone!

Well, old chief Gray Eagle had been sitting there watching Little Fox all night. Now he watched as Little Fox looked around for someone else to go first. When no one stood, Gray Eagle rose and said," The Great Spirit has sent a sign and told me that a young buck wants to become a man tonight. Let him come forth now!"

Well, that's all that Little Fox needed, he knew that it was his time. He leaped to his feet and excitedly proclaimed that it was he, that the Great Spirit had told Gray Eagle about. Every eye turned to Little Fox and then to Gray Eagle. Seconds seemed like hours as Gray Eagle's eyes finally gazed directly into those of Little Fox.

Now this particular tribe had the custom of letting the candidate profess his skills in five different categories. After each proclamation the elders would vote on whether or not the candidate passed. If the vote was all white pebbles then he passed. If there was only one black pebble that meant that there was some doubt in the mind of one elder, but he still passed. It took two or more black pebbles to fail a candidate. Gray Eagle was the chief, he would not vote, also he was Little Fox's grandfather. That was the other reason Little Fox figured he had it made.

The first category was that of the hawk throw. Oh! what a glorious praise Little Fox made for himself. He recounted how he bested all the other young bucks that had advanced to the final throw of the contest of skills. Young Deer was chosen to respond to Little Fox's claim on throwing the hawk. "True " said Young Deer, "Little Fox is very accurate with his hawk. But three moons ago during the contest of skills all the young bucks and myself were competing in the hawk throw. During the final throw to determine who was the best, everyone was tense and very nervous. Little Fox had not come to the contest of skill. Only the Great Spirit knew where he was. Well, at the last moment he came into the circle whooping and yelling and threw his hawk, he made a mockery of our contest of skill." Young Deer seemed very angry. Gray Eagle asked very calmly. "Did his hawk hit the mark?" Very loud and proud Little Fox declared "YES! YES it did!" Now it was time for the vote. Gray Eagle passed around the pouch and each of the elders placed their pebble in the pouch. Gray Eagle took the pouch and displayed the pebbles for all to see. There were four white and one black. Little Fox breathed a sigh of relief. Well at least he had passed the first category.

Gray Eagle announced the next category, the making of a knife. Well, Little Fox proudly withdrew his knife from his sheath. It was a large alright, not unlike Little Fox himself. It was big and heavy and very shiny. Surely the elders would see the hours he had spent to make this beautiful knife. Brown Pony spoke for the young bucks. "Truly beautiful is the knife that Little Fox has made." Pride swelled in Little Fox's heart. Brown Pony had been his playmate and best friend for many years, surely he had nothing to fear from his report. "Our fathers," Brown Pony began, "have taught us through years of their own experience that our knife is a tool to be made and used in getting food, skinning the animal to provide clothing and most of importance, to be used as a weapon to defend ourselves when we are in close contact with our enemies." Brown Pony reached down into his moccasin and withdrew his own knife. It was quite a bit smaller than that of Little Fox. Little Fox laughed, not quite to himself and said very loudly. "Now this is a man's knife!" as he brandished his knife for all to see. Brown Pony very calmly asked Gray Eagle to show all gathered his knife. As Gray Eagle withdrew his knife, Little Fox's heart sank, it was less than half the size of his own knife. Again the pouch was passed, again the vote was the same.

The third skill was the ability to get an eagle feather from the tail of the great bald eagle. The only condition was that the eagle could not be harmed in any way. Gray Eagle said, "Little Fox, show the tribe your feather." Little Fox drew a smile across his face and displayed the most beautiful tail feather that the tribe had ever seen. A murmur of approval went around the council fire. Just let someone try and dispute my claim thought Little Fox. It was very fitting that Young Eagle was chosen for the rebuttal this time. "It was when the Great Spirit of the river rose over it's banks that Little Fox got his feather". Little Fox was amazed, how did Young Eagle know this? Young Eagle continued, "A mature eagle had come down to catch a fish in his talons, but became tangled in some vines which the Spirit of the wind blew in it's path as it tried to ascend. During the eagle's struggle to get free a tail feather was loosed and fell to the ground. Little Fox saw this and picked it up and kept it for his own. He did not see me across the river in the middle of the reeds gathering arrow shafts. Again the pouch was passed, again the vote was the same.

The fourth skill was making arrows straight and true. Little Fox knew this was one skill that he was very good at. His quiver was full of arrows, and there was one in particular he had been saving for just this moment. He pulled it from the quiver and passed it around the fire to each of the elders. It was truly a beautiful arrow. It was very straight and true and decorated with Little Fox's own design, even the feathers were colored a bright easy to see vermilion red. Bear Cub stood and very quietly pulled his own arrow from its quiver. It too was also very straight and very true, but it was very plain looking. He asked Little Fox to give flight to his arrow at a gourd, he had hung on a tree before the council fire began. The distance being about two hundred feet. or about three throws of a stone. Little Fox pulled back his bow and gave flight to his arrow. All gathered saw the arrow in flight rush to the gourd with the speed of the wind. They also saw it impale itself in the center of the gourd. Little Fox turned to Bear Cub and gestured that now it was his turn. Bear Cub drew back his bow and gave flight to his arrow. Almost immediately it seemed to disappear from sight. No one present could see it during its flight. They all thought that Bear Cub had missed the mark. Then they heard the resounding thunk and saw the gourd moving from side to side. A swift runner was dispatched and he confirmed that BearCub's arrow was so close to that of Little Fox's that a blade of prairie grass would not pass between them. "So?" demanded Little Fox, "your arrow flew straight and true as did my own, what is your point?" Very calmly Bear Cub began, "When I hunt in the forests that the Great Spirit has given us, I travel lightly and among the shadows. My bow and quiver are part of my being. They are extensions of my own spirit. When my prey is sighted and I give flight to my arrow, I do not want it to see my arrow as it comes toward him. In the same manner I do not want my enemies to see my arrow, only feel and realize that it has pierced his heart. I ask you the elders to cast your eyes to the gourd suspended from the tree, and tell all gathered whose arrow is visible and who's is not." Well fellows, all the elders looked to where Bear Cub had pointed and all admitted that the only arrow they could see was that of Little Fox. Once again the pouch was passed and once again the vote was the same. Little Fox smiled to himself and then to the rest of the young bucks as if to say. "No matter what you say, I still pass."

The last and possibly most important skill was one that Gray Eagle himself had taken part in. All the young bucks were taken to the Great Valley with no end. Here they were separated and told to make a shelter, catch their supper and keep a fire going all night. The purpose was to attune themselves with the spirit of the earth and to become one with the land. Everyone listened, as Gray Eagle recounted how he had sat alone on a bluff over-looking the camp of Little Fox. The first task was to select a campsite and prepare a shelter for the night. Little Fox had very wisely chosen a site next to a grove of young willow trees. Thinking that Little Fox was going to bend a few of them over and lash them together to form a shelter, Gray Eagle went off to check the other young bucks. All had done as they had been trained, their shelters were of the type that when taken down could be returned to their natural state with no harm. Their fires were large enough to cook their meals but small enough not to consume a great quality of fuel. Satisfied that all would make it through the night Grey Eagle returned to his post overlooking his grandson's camp. Truly a camp with a purpose met his eyes, Little Fox had chopped down several young trees for his shelter. His fire was five times as large as was needed. Roasting over the fire was a deer, more than any one man could eat himself. The other young bucks had caught rabbits and other small game and prepared the skins for use later. Little Fox had killed a young male deer and skinned it and threw the entrails and scraps in a pile. The pelt was ruined. The tears poured down the cheeks of Gray Eagle, as he described how Little Fox had wasted the gifts of the Great Spirit. One last time the pouch was passed. One last chance for Little Fox. But this time instead of four whites and one black, there were for all to see six black pebbles, His own grandfather had voted him not to pass.

You see fellows, even though Little Fox had demonstrated the skills he needed to become a brave. The way he went about it was wrong. Granted he was a little brash in the way he did things. But they did get done. But the one thing that he did that his elders would not forgive or overlook was the waste that he had caused on the land of the Great Valley. That land provided their existence and now part of that was gone forever.

Fellows stop and think, you may have demonstrated all the skills of a good Christian, just like Little Fox did to become a brave. But at what expense? Did you use some way you thought no one else would use? Did you take the easy way? Remember fellows there is NO easy way to become a good Christian. God sees all that we do, if you are not sure of where you stand with God, I urge you to ask the Lord and your Commander to help you.