his back. Only three days ago you ran off in that way,
and turned over the bag of wooden pins with which I used to fasten up
the front of the lodge. Look up there, and you will see that it is all
flapping open. And now to-night you have stolen a great piece of fat
meat which was roasting before the fire for my children. I tell you, you
have a bad heart, and you must die!"

So saying, the squaw went into the lodge, and coming out with a large
stone mallet, killed the unfortunate dog at one blow. This speech
is worthy of notice as illustrating a curious characteristic of the
Indians: the ascribing intelligence and a power of understanding speech
to the inferior animals, to whom, indeed, according to many of their
traditions, they are linked in close affinity, and they even claim the
honor of a lineal descent from bears, wolves, deer, or tortoises.

As it grew late, and the crowded population began to disappear, I too
walked across the village to the lodge of my host, Kongra-Tonga. As I
entered I saw him, by the flickering blaze of the fire in the center,
reclining half asleep in his usual place. His couch was by no means an
uncomfortable one. It consisted of soft buffalo robes laid together on
the ground, and a pillow made of whitened deerskin stuffed with feathers
and ornamented with beads. At his back was a light framework of poles
and slender reeds, against which he could lean with ease when in a
sitting posture; and at the top of it, just above his head, his bow
and quiver were hanging. His squaw, a laughing, broad-faced woman,
apparently had not yet completed her domestic arrangements, for she was
bustling about the lodge, pulling over the utensils and the bales of
dried meats that were ranged carefully round it. Unhappily, she and
her partner were not the only tenants of the dwelling, for half a dozen
children were scattered about, sleeping in every imaginable posture. My
saddle was in its place at the head of the lodge and a buffalo robe
was spread on the ground before it. Wrapping myself in my blanket I lay
down, but had I not been extremely fatigued the noise in the next lodge
would have prevented my sleeping. There was the monotonous thumping of
the Indian drum, mixed with occasional sharp yells, and a chorus chanted
by twenty voices. A grand scene of gambling was going forward with all
the appropriate formalities. The players were staking on the chance
issue of the game their ornaments, their horses, and as the