he rest scatter themselves over the prairie for half a
mile in each direction, to speed the ball, should it come their way.

All ready: one, two, three, and up goes the ball into the air, and as it
falls, up goes each Ta-ki-cap-si-cha in an endeavor to catch it, and so
skillful are the men that it is very often caught in the little pocket
while in the air, which is a great advantage, as the party catching it
has the right if he can to throw it in the direction of his friends,
and, with a free chance, it is like throwing a ball out of a sling. I
have seen one sent nearly a quarter of a mile. If the game opens in this
way, there is, of course, a great rush by the partisans to capture the
ball and keep it moving one way or the other; but if at the first toss
up it falls to the ground, there is a tussle of all the middle men to
see which one shall get it with his stick that puts civilized football
in the shade. Shins are whacked, men are tripped and piled onto each
other in the utmost confusion, until some lucky fellow extricates the
ball from the mass, and sends it flying towards a group of his friends.
The Sioux are splendid runners, and sometimes when twenty or thirty of
them will be in full chase of the ball, a leading man will tumble, and
the whole line will pile over him; but no matter how rough or boisterous
the sport may be, I have never known a quarrel to grow out of it. There
must be rules to this effect governing the game, such as they have in a
Japanese wrestling match, where the parties, before tackling each other,
sprinkle salt between them, which is a pledge that even a broken neck
will not interrupt friendship. I think I have seen more feats of
wonderful skill in running, jumping and catching in a game of this kind
than in any play of a similar nature I have ever witnessed.

No one who has seen the Indians play a good game of Ta-kap-si-ka-pi has
ever forgotten it. Major Eastman of the old army, who was quite an
artist, attempted to depict the scene on canvas, and while he made an
excellent picture which would please the eye of anyone who had not seen
the real thing, he found it impossible to convey an adequate idea of its
best points. The picture, I think, is now either in the rooms of the
Wisconsin Historical Society, or in the Cochran gallery of Washington.

One of the noticeable results of a game of this kind, played on a virgin
prairie, was the great number of huge snakes the players would kill. I
have