nd his broad-sword dragging and tripping him, he paid visits
from lodge to lodge, and whistled "Yankee Doodle."

Pretty soon he had nothing left but his blue umbrella. That was the
only thing he kept. Even his hat was gone; his sword was used by his
wife, as a meat chopper. And still he was not popular.

Each night men and women gathered from near and far, to hear him talk,
in his lodge. They sat silent and critical, while he told them the
honest truth.

He worked very hard. He labored to describe the long journey, and the
marvelous number of white man's lodges, and villages, and the stage
coaches, and the railroads; the forts, and the ships-of-many-big-guns,
and the tremendous "council-house" at Washington; and the patent office
(great-medicine-place, filled with curious machines); and the war
parade of American soldiers, and the balloon--a huge ball which carried
a man to the Great Spirit in the sky; and the beautiful white squaws
with red cheeks.

The people listened; and when they went out they said among themselves:
"Those things are not true. The Pigeon's-egg Head is the greatest liar
in the world. The other nations will laugh at the Assiniboins."

Wijunjon did not despair. He was so full of words that he simply must
talk, or burst. He wished that he might bring forward the other
Assiniboin who had been with him and who knew that all these stories
were true; but the other Assiniboin had died on the way home. That was
too bad.

However, he stuck to his stories, for he knew that he was right. His
people had sent him to see, and he had seen, and he spoke only true
words.

After a while, the Assiniboins took a different view of Wijunjon. Any
person who had such stories in his brain was certainly great medicine.
No common liar could invent these stories about impossible wonders.

Yes, Wijunjon was doubtless taught by a spirit. He had dreamed.

Now the Assiniboin people looked upon Wijunjon with awe and fear. A
person equipped with such power might be very dangerous. They decided
that he ought to be killed.

Meanwhile Wijunjon went right on telling his stories. He still had
hopes--and besides, it was pleasant to be the center of a gaping
circle, and to walk around with folks gazing so at him.

There was a young man who agreed to rid the Assiniboins of this wizard.
Beyond question, Wijunjon was too great medicine to be killed by an
ordinary bullet; another way should be found.

This young m