ed in the lodge, and, taking the stem in his
mouth, inhales the smoke and expels it through his nostrils. The ground
is touched with the bowl, the four points of the compass are in turn
saluted, and with various ceremonies it makes the round of the lodge.
After many days of feasting and dancing the party is ready for a
campaign, when they abandon the lodge, and it is death for any one
else to enter, or by any means to desecrate it while its projectors are
absent.

It was upon one of these mystic lodges that Baptiste had accidentally
stumbled, and strange thoughts flashed through his mind; for within the
sacred place were articles, doubtless, of value more than sufficient
to purchase the necessary horse with which he could win the fair Unami.
Baptiste was sorely tempted, but there was an instinctive respect for
religion in the minds of the old trappers, and Brown had too much honour
to think of robbing the Indian temple, although he distinctly remembered
a time when a poor white trapper, having been robbed of his poncho at
the beginning of winter, made free with a blanket he had found in one
of these Arapahoe sacred lodges. When he was brought before the medicine
men of the tribe, charged with the sacrilege, his defence, that, having
been robbed, the Great Spirit took pity on him and pointed out the
blanket and ordered him to clothe himself, was considered good, on the
theory that the Great Spirit had an undoubted right to give away his own
property; consequently the trapper was set free.

Brown, after considering the case, was about to move away, when a hand
was laid on his shoulder, and turning round there stood before him an
Indian in full war-paint.

The greeting was friendly, for the young savage was the brother of
Baptiste's love, to whom he had given many valuable presents during the
past season.

"My white brother is very wakeful; he rises early."

Baptiste laughed, and replied: "Yes, because my lodge is empty. If I
had Unami for a wife, I would not have to get out before the sun; and
I would always have a soft seat for her brother; he will be a great
warrior."

The young brave shook his head gravely, as he pointed to his belt, where
not a scalp was to be seen, and said: "Five moons have gone to sleep and
the Arapahoe hatchet has not been raised. The Blackfeet are dogs, and
hide in their holes."

Without adding anything to this hint that none of the young men had been
able to fulfil their vows, the disco