ime one of the dogs, who
got up snarling and sniffing the cold air, turned himself round several
times as if on a pivot, and finally lay down for another nap.

In the morning the travelers one by one raised their heads and looked
through the smoke-hole, then fell back again with a grunt. All the world
appeared without form and void. Presently, however, the light of the sun
was seen as if through a painted window, and by afternoon they were able
to go on, the wind having partially subsided. This was only a taste of
the weather encountered by the party on their unseasonable trip; but had
it been ten times harder, it would never have occurred to Angus to turn
back.

On the third day the rescuers approached the camp of the exiles. There
was an ominous quiet; no creature was to be seen; but the smoke which
ascended into the air in perpendicular columns assured them that some,
at least, were still alive. The party happened to reach first the teepee
of the poor old woman who had been so faithfully ministered to by the
twin sisters. They had no longer any food to give, but they had come to
build her fire, if she should have survived the night. At the very door
of the lodge they heard the jingle of dog-bells, but they had not time
to announce the joyful news before the men were in sight.

In another minute Angus and Three Stars were beside them, holding their
wasted hands.

V. THE CHIEF SOLDIER

Just outside of a fine large wigwam of smoke-tanned buffalo-skins stood
Tawasuota, very early upon an August morning of the year 1862. Behind
the wigwam there might have been seen a thrifty patch of growing
maize, whose tall, graceful stalks resembled as many warriors in
dancing-dresses and tasseled head-gear.

"Thanks be to the 'Great Mystery,' I have been successful in the
fortunes of war! None can say that Tawasuota is a coward. I have done
well; so well that our chief, Little Crow, has offered me the honored
position of his chief soldier, ta akich-itah!" he said to himself with
satisfaction.

The sun was just over the eastem bank of the Minnesota River, and he
could distinctly see upon the level prairie the dwellings of logs which
had sprung up there during the year, since Little Crow's last treaty
with the whites. "Ugh! they are taking from us our beautiful and
game-teeming country!" was his thought as he gazed upon them.

At that moment, out of the conical white teepee, in shape like a
new-born mushroom, there burst