art his chief had taken in the wars against the white
man. He had the dignity and the eloquence of a fine New England judge. A
notable sweetness and a lofty poetry were blended in his expression; and
as he used the sign language in emphasizing his words (gestures finely
expressive and nobly rhythmical) he became, to my perception, the native
bard reciting the story of his clan. I was able to follow the broad
lines of his discourse and when at the close of the afternoon he rose to
go, I said to him, "I shall tell of the Sitting Bull as you have
spoken," and we parted in the glow of mutual esteem.

Zulime was feeling much better, and the air being cooler, I asked
permission to stay another day, in order that I might meet Looking Stag,
another of the warriors who had known the Sitting Bull.

Looking Stag's home was a few miles down the valley, and we found him in
his commodious lodge, entertaining a couple of headmen from Cheyenne
River. He was seated on a low bed opposite the door, and his guests were
placed on either hand of him. He glanced up at us, spoke a curt word to
Primeau and went on with his story. His cold greeting, and the evident
preoccupation of his manner made me feel like an intruder, which I was,
and this feeling was deepened when I perceived that my guide was
distinctly ill at ease. After all, he was only a half-breed trader,
while these men were red chieftains.

The Looking Stag was not contemptuous of me--he was merely indifferent.
Busied with honored guests he regarded the coming of a strange white man
to his lodge as something of a nuisance. He went on cutting tobacco, and
afterward ground it between his palms whilst his visitors talked on
quite oblivious to me.

Our host looked familiar, but as he was painted and wore a bonnet of
eagle feathers I could not remember where I had seen him.

At last, in a pause of the talk, Primeau said something to him which
caused him to break into a smile and thrust his open hand toward me.
"How! How! my friend," he called heartily.

Then I recognized him. He was the man who had so unweariedly taken the
part of "The Enemy" in the games at Standing Rock. Primeau had told him
that I was the man who had given him the money, and he now accepted me
as a friend.

He then told his visitors the story of my gift and message. They also
laughed and shook hands with me. Thereafter we were all on terms of high
respect and mutual confidence. I put my questions freely and the