g looking for work, and Hawkins hired him.
Milking-time came, and Hawkins sent the man out to milk, but
forgot to tell hint about the buffalo. The man was a little
green, and it was sort of dark in the barn, and the first thing
he tried to milk was the buffalo cow. She kicked the pail through
the window, smashed the stall, and half broke the man's leg the
first three kicks. He hobbled to the house, and says to Hawkins:
'Old man, that there high-shouldered heifer of yourn out there
has busted the barn and half killed me, and I reckon I'll quit
and go back East, where the cows don't wear sleigh-robes and kick
with four feet at once.'"

Bright and early the next morning we got off again. Nothing
of importance happened that day. We were travelling through a
comparatively old-settled part of the country, and the houses
were numerous. A young Indian rode with us a few miles, but he
was a very civilized sort of red man. He had been at work on a
farm down near Yankton, and was on his way to the Ponca
Reservation to visit his mother. As an Indian he rather disgusted
Ollie.

"If I were a big six-foot Indian," he said, after our
passenger had gone, "I think I'd carry a tomahawk, and wear a
feather or two at least. I don't see what's the advantage of
being an Indian if you're going to act just like a white man."

We camped that night in a beautiful nook in a bluff near a
little stream. The next day we reached Running Water. The
ferry-boat was a little thing, with a small paddle-wheel on each
side operated by two horses on tread-mills. A man stood at the
stern with a long oar to steer it. The river was not so wide here
as at Yankton, but the current was swifter, which no doubt gave
the place its name. It looked very doubtful if we should ever get
across in the queer craft, but after a long time we succeeded in
doing so. It gave us a good opportunity to study the water of the
river, which looked more like milk than water, owing to the fine
clay dissolved in it. The ferry-man thought very highly of the
water, and told us proudly that a glass of it would never settle
and become clear.

"It's the finest drinking-water in the world," he said. "I
never drink anything else. Take a bucket of it up home every
evening to drink overnight. You don't get any of this clear
well-water down me."

We tasted of it, but couldn't see that it was much different
from other water.

"Boil it down a little, and give it a lower