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(HUNTING STORY)
The grandfather of my informant told the following story. When his people were still on the Washita they agreed to have a bear drive, so they prepared "drifts" (fences) of brush and other stuff leading down to the creek. Then they sent the young people and all their dogs up the creek while the older men waited behind the fence. As the bears came on down and encountered the brush they reared up on their hind legs and were then shot down by the hunters from behind the screen. Guns were going off and cubs squalling in every direction. My informant's grandfather was about to shoot the biggest bear but could not get his gun ready in time and another shot before him. But the bear ran off and crossed the Washita to a big prairie at the other end of which was a bluff, the dogs following. Finally they got him way out on the prairie and after many shots finally killed him. He was a fine big one and everyone claimed him. All were disputing over him. There was one man very much behind the others who came running up to them late. They said to him, "We are having a great dispute here." Finally all agreed to give this last comer the hide, which was the most important thing. Then they ceased their contentions and went home.