he's got the limit an'
the philanthrofists takes Bill's hobbles off an' throws him loose with
the idee that Bill will go back to his tribe folks an' teach 'em to read.
Bill comes back, shore, an' is at once the Osage laughin'-stock for
wearin' pale-face clothes. Also, the medicine men tells Bill he'll die
for talkin' paleface talk an' sportin' a paleface shirt, an' these
prophecies preys on Bill who's eager to live a heap an' ain't ready to
cash in. Bill gets back to blankets an' feathers in about a month.

"Old Black Dog, a leadin' sharp among the Osages, is goin' about with a
dab of clay in his ha'r, and wearin' his most ornery blanket. That's
because Black Dog is in mournin' for a squaw who stampedes over the Big
Divide, mebby it's two months prior. Black Dog's mournin' has got dealt
down to the turn like; an' windin' up his grief an' tears, Osage fashion,
he out to give a war-dance. Shore; the savages rings in a war-dance on
all sorts of cer'monies. It don't allers mean that they're hostile, an'
about to spraddle forth on missions of blood. Like I states, Black Dog,
who's gone to the end of his mournful lariat about the departed squaw,
turns himse'f on for a war-dance; an' he nacherally invites the Osage
nation to paint an' get in on the festiv'ties.

"Accordin' to the rooles, pore Bill, jest back from school, has got to
cut in. Or he has his choice between bein' fined a pony or takin' a
lickin' with mule whips in the hands of a brace of kettle-tenders whose
delight as well as dooty it is to mete out the punishment. Bill can't
afford to go shy a pony, an' as he's loth to accept the larrupin's, he
wistfully makes ready to shake a moccasin at the _baile_. An' as nothin'
but feathers, blankets, an' breech-clouts goes at a war-dance--the same
bein' Osage dress-clothes--Bill shucks his paleface garments an' arrays
himse'f after the breezy fashion of his ancestors. Bill attends the war
dance an' shines. Also, bein' praised by the medicine men an' older
bucks for quittin' his paleface duds; an' findin' likewise the old-time
blanket an' breech-clout healthful an' saloobrious--which Bill forgets
their feel in his four years at that sem'nary--he adheres to 'em. This
lapse into aboriginal ways brews trouble for Bill; he gets up ag'inst the
agent.

"It's the third day after Black Dog's war-dance, an' Bill, all paint an'
blankets an' feathers, is sa'nterin' about Pawhusky, takin' life easy an'
Injun fashion. It's