locate the Southern
Pai Utes on a reservation in south-eastern Nevada.

North American archaeology also claimed his interest and about the time
of the consolidation of the Surveys Powell proposed the establishment of
a Bureau of Ethnology to carry on investigations in this field as well
as the ethnologic. This was done and the Bureau was attached to the
Smithsonian Institution with Powell as director, an office that he held
without salary till his resignation as head of the Geological Survey
in 1894. After this he received a salary as chief of the Bureau of
Ethnology in which office he remained till his death. The widely
known extensive series of valuable volumes published by the Bureau,
constituting a mine of information, attest the efficacy of his
supervision. He contributed much to these and also wrote numerous papers
on anthropological subjects and made many addresses. His labours as
a pioneer in and organiser of the science of ethnology have been
recognised by learned institutions and societies throughout the world.
The results of his direction of the Geological Survey are seen in the
maps, reports, bulletins, and monographs, constituting an imperishable
monument to his ability as an organiser and administrator.

He delivered many lectures and once, when he appeared on the platform at
the University of Michigan, an incident occurred which illustrates his
tact and his faculty for seizing means at hand to accomplish his end. At
this time it was the habit of the students at public lectures to guy
the speaker, even Charles Sumner having been a victim. Powell had been
warned of this practice. As he advanced in evening dress a voice called
out "How are your coat tails?"--a greeting which was repeated from
all parts of the house. During a momentary lull he exclaimed with the
peculiar squinting of the eyes and the half-laugh his friends so
well remember: "Your greeting reminds me of Dave Larkins's reply when
criticised for wearing a wamus* in July. Dave said, with his slow drawl,
'If you don't like my wamus I can take it off.'" The suggestion took
with the students and when the laughter had ceased, cries of "You'll
do--go on," came from everywhere. The incident roused Powell, and he has
often said he never talked better nor had a more attentive audience. He
was rewarded with enthusiastic applause. With his closing sentence he
said: "I have given you the finest account of the exploration of the
Colorado River my command o