study, to know the
Sioux, was at hand, but we never took advantage of it; like most people,
we were too busy with the little things to see the possibilities around
us. Perhaps Alexander Van Leshout, who made a success of his Indian art,
came to know these people better than any of us. But he was an
artist--and therefore he refused to let the little things clutter up his
life and take his attention from the one thing that was important to
him--seeing clearly and honestly the world about him.

When the Indians got their government pay, they celebrated with a buying
spree. They were lavish buyers as long as they had a cent, and they
bought the goods that had the most alluring picture on can or box. Ida
Mary would hold up something of staple quality, but they would shake
their heads and turn to something gaudily wrapped.

Old Two-Hawk and a few others paid their yearly subscriptions to _The
Wand_ every time they got their government allotment. "Your subscription
is already paid," I would explain, but they would shake their heads and
mutter. This was their newspaper, too, the thing that had signs and
their own names printed on a machine. They had the right to trade
beadwork or another dollar for it any time they liked.

Our subscription list looked like a Sioux directory with such names as
Julia Lame Walking Eagle, Maggie Shoots at Head, Afraid of His Horses,
Paul Owns the Fire, and his son, Owns the Fire.

Our daily visitors were the rank and file of the tribe, although famous
old warriors and medicine men came now and then. The high rulers of the
Brule, who were among the most reserved and intelligent of all American
Indians, did not come in this manner. But any negotiations between the
Brule whites and the Brule red men were made with their Chief and
Council. A few of the Indian warriors and chiefs always would hate the
whites, but the rank and file of the Brules were enjoying the strange
new life about them. While they saw no advantage in an active life for
themselves, they found activity in others highly entertaining.

The weather with its dry cold was sometimes deceptive. For several days
we had had urgent business to attend to in Presho, but the weather
prohibited the trip. One morning we awoke to see the sun brilliant on
the snow.

A lovely day for the long trip, and we hitched the team to a light buggy
so that we might wrap up better. The farther we drove the colder we
became. There was no warmth in that dazzl