ason of intoxication had
been augmented by the presence on the ground of some traders, too
regardless of the very stringent laws prohibiting the sale of liquor to
the Indians.

Poor Four-Legs could not stand this full tide of prosperity. Unchecked
by the presence of his Father, the agent, he carried his indulgence to
such excess that he fell a victim in the course of a few days. His
funeral had been celebrated with unusual pomp the day before our
arrival, and great was my disappointment at finding myself too late to
witness all the ceremonies.

His body, according to their custom, having been wrapped in a blanket,
and placed in a rude coffin, along with his guns, tomahawk, pipes, and a
quantity of tobacco, had been carried to the most elevated point of the
hill opposite the fort, followed by an immense procession of his people,
whooping, beating their drums, howling, and making altogether what is
emphatically termed a "_pow-wow_"

After the interment of the body, a stake was planted at its head, on
which was painted in vermilion a series of hieroglyphics, descriptive of
the great deeds and events of his life The whole was then surrounded
with pickets of the trunks of the tamarack-trees, and hither the friends
would come for many successive days to renew the expression of their
grief, and to throw over the grave tobacco and other offerings to the
Great Spirit.

It was a consolation to find that, although delayed, we were yet in time
to furnish a quantity of white cotton for a flag to wave over the grave,
and also to pay a considerable bill at the sutler's for the different
articles that had been found necessary for the funeral parade--it being
a duty expected of their Father to bury the dead suitably.

The funeral observances in honor of the chief had not yet ceased.
Throughout the day, and all that night, the sound of instruments,
mingled with doleful lamentations, and with the discordant whoops and
yells of those in a partial state of intoxication, filled the air, and
disturbed our repose. To these were added occasionally the plaintive
sounds of the Indian flute, upon which the young savage plays when he is
in love. Grief and whiskey had made their hearts tender, and the woods
resounded to their melancholy strains.

Early the following morning, before I left my room, I was startled by
the sounds of lamentation and woe proceeding from the adjoining
apartment. On entering it, I found several squaws seated on the f