can anticipate
the former and prepare for the blow. Up to the 10th of April Red Dog had
held himself haughtily apart from the whites--agent, officers, troops,
and all, but there were half-breeds and scouts who warned them that the
humiliation of his capture still rankled in his bosom, and that a mad
thirst for revenge possessed him. "Watch him as you would a snake," said
old Spotted Tail himself, when he came down to visit the agency. "He
never sleeps without dreaming of vengeance." The agent told Davies what
the loyal old chief had said, and Davies looked grave, but made no
reply. He was thinking, however, of Mira's danger. Indians could not be
put under bonds to keep the peace, however: the Bureau's system being to
let them kill first and explain afterwards. It wasn't pleasing to the
relatives of the deceased or even to the army, but what were they among
so many?--the millions of Indian sympathizers dwelling at discreet
distance.

One morning half a dozen ladies drove down from the cantonment, and
their wagons were ranged up close alongside the rail near the high
hurdle. Around them were thickly clustered a number of squaws and
children and a few Indian boys, though most of the men, old or young,
kept to their ponies around on the south and east sides. McPhail came
out later with his household, and really was not unprepared to find his
usual place, on a little raised platform, pre-empted by a score of
blanketed "reds." Mac had some odd views. He couldn't understand why the
soldiers should not be made to salute him as they did their own
officers, who, having occasionally to report to him for instructions,
might be considered as his inferiors. He liked to impress the ladies of
the cantonment with the extent of his power and authority, and had more
than once interrupted the proceedings in the ring by loudly-shouted
orders to some of the Indians on the other side. This annoyed Davies,
but he said nothing. McPhail spoke of the detachment as "My guard,"
etc., and once or twice in the presence of the army ladies had
addressed Davies in the crisp, curt tone of the superior officer, or
such imitation of it as he was enabled to compass, and this, too, the
young man had suffered without remark, though with a quiet smile. Seeing
the swarm of Indians on McPhail's platform, Mrs. Cranston and Miss
Loomis presently called to him to bring Mrs. McPhail to a seat in their
wagon, but the agent sprang up on the flimsy structure, sharply