es it very much."

Elsie ran towards the girl and took her by the shoulders as if to make
her understand the better. "Thank you; thank you!"

Small Bird smiled, but surrendered to her timidity, and, turning, ran
swiftly out of the room.

Curtis hooked Elsie in his right arm. "Now all is decreed. You have put
on the garb of my people," and his kiss stopped the protest she
struggled to utter.

Surely the day was a day strangely apart. Everything that could be done
to make it symbolic, to make it idyllic, was done. Curtis appeared after
lunch in a fine costume of buckskin, trimmed with green porcupine quills
and beads, and for a hat he wore a fillet of beaver-skin with a single
feather on the back. Across his shoulder he carried the sash of a finely
beaded tobacco pouch, and in his hand a long fringed bag, very ancient,
containing a peace-pipe, which had been transmitted to Crawling Elk by
his father's father, a very precious thing, worn only by chieftains.

"Oh, I shall paint you in that dress," cried Elsie.

So accoutred, he led the way to the canopied platform under the
flag-pole, where the reviewing party were to sit. In order that no
invidious distinctions might be drawn, two or three of the old chiefs
and their wives had been given seats thereon, and they were already in
place. Not many strangers were present, for Curtis had purposely
refrained from setting a day too long ahead, but Lawson's friends and
some relatives of the employes, and several of the young officers from
the fort made up the outside representation. Maynard was in his
brightest uniform, and Jennie, looking very nice in a muslin gown, and a
broad, white hat, sat by his side.

From the seats in the stand, the camp, swarming with horsemen, could be
seen. Wilson, as grand marshal, was riding to and fro, assisted by
Lawson, who had entered into the game with the self-sacrificing devotion
of a drum-major. His make-up was superb, and when at last he approached,
leading the cavalcade, Elsie did not recognize him. His lean face, dark
with paint, was indistinguishably Tetong, seen from a distance, and he
sat his horse in perfect simulation of his red brethren. He was but
re-enacting scenes of his early life. His hunting-shirt was dark with
use, and his splendid war-bonnet trailed grandly down his back. He rode
by, looking neither to the right nor the left, singing a new song.

"We are passing.
See us passing by.
We are leaving the old be