his hand into the
kettle and takes the meat from the boiling water; and although suffering
from the scalds produced, yet their calmness in enduring the pain, would
induce the belief that the water really felt to them cool and pleasant.

The meat is then taken out, and put into a wooden dish, and the water
left boiling on the fire. The dancers eat the meat while hot, and again
they arrange themselves to dance. And now, the mighty power of the Giant
is shown, for Markeda advances to the kettle, and taking some water out
of it he throws it upon his bare back, singing all the while, "The
water is cold."

"Old John" advances and does the same, followed by the next in turn,
until the water is exhausted from the kettle, and then the warriors
exclaim, "How great is the power of Haokah! we have thrown boiling water
upon ourselves and we have not been scalded."

The dance is over--the sacrifice is made. Markeda seeks his young wife
and fears not. He had fancied that her cheeks were pale of late, but now
they are flushed brilliantly, his heart is at rest.

The warriors disperse, all but the medicine man, and the chief's store
of buffalo meat diminishes rapidly under the magic touch of the epicure.

Yes! an epicure thou wert old John! for I mind me well when thou camest
at dinner time, and how thou saidst thou couldst eat the food of the
Indian when thou wert hungry, but the food of the white man was better
far. And thou! a Dahcotah warrior, a famous hunter, and a medicine man.
Shame! that thou shouldst have loved venison dressed with wine more than
when the tender meat was cooked according to the taste of the women of
thy nation. I have forgotten thy Indian name, renegade as thou wert! but
thou answerest as well to "old John!"

Thou art now forgotten clay, though strong and vigorous when in wisdom
the Sioux were punished for a fault they did not commit. Their money was
not paid them--their provisions were withheld. Many were laid low, and
thou hast found before now that God is the Great Spirit, and the Giant
Haokah is not.

And it may be that thou wouldst fain have those thou hast left on earth
know of His power, who is above all spirits, and of His goodness who
would have all come unto Him.

CHAPTER IV.

Wenona had not hoped in vain, for her lover was with her, and Wanska
seemed to be forgotten. The warrior's flute would draw her out from her
uncle's lodge while the moon rose o'er the cold waters. Wrapped in her