ng missionary. He led a charmed life, for he
went to visit the wildest tribes, and was everywhere respected. I
conversed with him in French. After a while he spread his blanket, lay
down on the floor and slept till morning, when he read his prayers and
departed.

The next day the fort square was full of Kaw Indians, all in savage
array, about to depart for their autumnal buffalo-hunt. I met one
venerable heathen with his wife and babe, with whom I made genial
acquaintance. I asked the wife the name for a whip; she replied
_B'meergashee_; a pony was _shoonga_, the nose _hin_, and a woman _shimmy-
shindy_! I bought his whip for a dollar. The squaw generously offered
to throw in the baby, which I declined, and we all laughed and parted.

I went to the camp, and there the whole party, seeing my curious whip,
went at the Kaws to buy theirs. Bank-bills were our only currency then,
and the Indians knew there were such things as counterfeits. They
consulted together, eyed us carefully, and then every man as he received
his dollar brought it to me for approval. By chance I knew the Pawnee
word for "good" (_Washitaw_), and they also knew it. Then came a strange
wild scene. I spoke to the chief, and pointing to my whip said,
"_B'meergashee_" and indicating a woman and a pony, repeated, "_Shimmy-
shindy_, _shoonga-hin_," intimating that its use was to chastise women
and ponies by hitting them on the nose. Great was the amazement and
delight of the Kaws, who roared with laughter, and their chief curiously
inquired, "_You_ Kaw?" To which I replied, "_O_, _nitchee_, _me_ Kaw,
_washita_ good Injun me." He at once embraced me with frantic joy, as
did the others, to the great amazement of my friends. A wild circular
dance was at once improvised to celebrate my reception into the tribe; at
which our driver Brigham dryly remarked that he didn't wonder they were
glad to get me, for I was the first Injun ever seen in that tribe with a
whole shirt on him. This was the order of proceedings:--I stood in the
centre and sang wildly the following song, which was a great favourite
with our party, and all joining in the chorus:--

I slew the chief of the Muscolgee;
I burnt his squaw at the blasted tree!
By the hind-legs I tied up the cur,
He had no time to fondle on her.

_Chorus_.

Hoo! hoo! hoo! the Muscolgee!
Wah, wah, wah! the blasted tree!

A faggot from the blasted tree
Fired the lodge of th