dug about two hundred yards from the camp, on some
conspicuous plain. It was about two feet deep and six feet square and
over it was constructed an arbor of boughs with four openings. When the
bear man sang, all the men and boys would gather and dance about the
den; and when he came out and pursued them there was a hasty retreat. It
was supposed that whoever touched the bear without being touched by him
would overcome a foe in the field. If one was touched, the reverse was
to be expected. The thing which caused most anxiety among the dancers
was the superstition that if one of them should accidentally trip and
fall while pursued by the bear, a sudden death would visit him or his
nearest relative.

Boys of my age were disposed to run some risk in this dance; they would
take every opportunity to strike at the bear man with a short switch,
while the older men shot him with powder. It may as well be admitted
that one reason for my declining the honor offered me by my friend
Redhorn was that I was afraid of powder, and I much preferred to be
one of the dancers and take my chances of touching the bear man without
being touched.

It was a beautiful summer's day. The forest behind our camp was sweet
with the breath of blossoming flowers. The teepees faced a large lake,
which we called Bedatanka. Its gentle waves cooled the atmosphere.
The water-fowl disported themselves over its surface, and the birds of
passage overhead noisily expressed their surprise at the excitement and
confusion in our midst.

The herald, with his brassy voice, again went the rounds, announcing the
day's event and the tardy fulfillment of the boy's commission. Then
came the bustle of preparation. The out-door toilet of the people
was performed with care. I cannot describe just how I was attired or
painted, but I am under the impression that there was but little of my
brown skin that was not uncovered. The others were similarly dressed in
feathers, paint and tinkling ornaments.

I soon heard the tom-tom's doleful sound from the direction of the
bear's den, and a few warwhoops from the throats of the youthful
warriors. As I joined the motley assembly, I noticed that the bear man's
drum was going in earnest, and soon after he began to sing. This was the
invitation to the dance.

An old warrior gave the signal and we all started for the den, very much
like a group of dogs attacking a stranger. Frantically we yelled and
whooped, running around the shelte