as soon as he understood my wish to write fairly of
his people, he gave himself unreservedly to our service. Taking us from
lodge to lodge, he introduced us to the men whose characters were of the
most value in my study and told them of my wish to report them with
sympathy and truth.

One of the games that day was a rough, outdoor drama, in which mimic war
parties sallied forth, scouts were captured and captives rescued in
stirring pantomime.

As I stood watching the play I observed that one man (no longer young)
was serving as "the enemy," alternately captured or slain. His role was
not only arduous--it was dangerous--dangerous and thankless, and as I
saw him cheerfully volunteering to be "killed" I handed Primeau a dollar
and said: "Give this to that old fellow, and tell him he should have
many dollars for his hard, rough work."

Primeau gave him the coin, but before he had time to know who gave it,
he was called back into the field.

At the Agency store I met a French-Canadian named Carignan who was a
most valuable witness, for he had been among the red men for many years,
first as a school teacher and later as trader. From him I secured much
intimate history of the Sioux. He had known the Sitting Bull well, and
gave me a very kindly account of him. "I taught the school in Rock Creek
near the Sitting Bull's camp, and he was often at my table," he
explained. "I saw no harm in him. I liked him and respected him. He was
an Indian but he was a thinker."

Vaguely holding in my brain a tale in which the Sitting Bull should be
protagonist, I talked with many who had known him, and a few days later
I accepted Primeau's invitation to visit the valley in which the chief
had lived, and which was the scene of the Ghost Dance, and the place of
the chief's death.

I suggested to Zulime that she would be more comfortable at the Agency
but she replied, "I'd rather go with you. I don't like being left here
alone."

"You'll find the ride tiresome and the lodging rough, I fear."

"I don't care," she retorted firmly, "I'm going with you."

Primeau was a very intelligent man and a good talker, and as we rode
along he gave us in detail the history of the rise of the Ghost Dance,
so far as the Sioux were concerned. "There was nothing war-like about
it," he insisted. "It was a religious appeal. It was a prayer to the
Great Spirit to take pity on the red man and bring back the world of the
buffalo. They carried no weapons, in fact