ing before his superstition like a beggar
asking for the bones you would throw to the dogs. The Lord will forgive
me for playing with the ignorance of the savage, for He knows I do it in
no mockery of his state, or in idle vaunting of my own; but in order to
save mortal life, and to give justice to the wronged, while I defeat the
deviltries of the wicked! Teton," speaking again in the language of the
listener, "I ask you, is not that a wonderful medicine? If the Dahcotahs
are wise, they will not breathe the air he breathes, nor touch his
robes. They know, that the Wahconshecheh (bad spirit) loves his own
children, and will not turn his back on him that does them harm."

The old man delivered this opinion in an ominous and sententious manner,
and then rode apart as if he had said enough. The result justified his
expectations. The warrior, to whom he had addressed himself, was
not slow to communicate his important knowledge to the rest of the
rear-guard, and, in a very few moments, the naturalist was the object of
general observation and reverence. The trapper, who understood that the
natives often worshipped, with a view to propitiate, the evil spirit,
awaited the workings of his artifice, with the coolness of one who had
not the smallest interest in its effects. It was not long before he saw
one dark figure after another, lashing his horse and galloping ahead
into the centre of the band, until Weucha alone remained nigh the
persons of himself and Obed. The very dulness of this grovelling-minded
savage, who continued gazing at the supposed conjuror with a sort of
stupid admiration, opposed now the only obstacle to the complete success
of his artifice.

Thoroughly understanding the character of this Indian, the old man lost
no time in getting rid of him also. Riding to his side he said, in an
affected whisper--

"Has Weucha drunk of the milk of the Big-knives, to-day?"

"Hugh!" exclaimed the savage, every dull thought instantly recalled from
heaven to earth by the question.

"Because the great captain of my people, who rides in front, has a cow
that is never empty. I know it will not be long before he will say, Are
any of my red brethren dry?"

The words were scarcely uttered, before Weucha, in his turn, quickened
the gait of his beast, and was soon blended with the rest of the dark
group, who were riding, at a more moderate pace, a few rods in advance.
The trapper, who knew how fickle and sudden were the changes of