es were paired for a "spin," and the little red men
cheered on their favorites with spirit.

As soon as this was ended, the pony races followed. All the speedy
ponies were picked out and riders chosen. If a boy declined to ride,
there would be shouts of derision.

Last of all came the swimming. A little urchin would hang to his pony's
long tail, while the latter, with only his head above water, glided
sportively along. Finally the animals were driven into a fine field of
grass and we turned our attention to other games.

Lacrosse was an older game and was confined entirely to the Sisseton and
Santee Sioux. Shinny, such as is enjoyed by white boys on the ice, is
still played on the open prairie by the western Sioux. The "moccasin
game," although sometimes played by the boys, was intended mainly for
adults.

The "mud-and-willow" fight was rather a severe and dangerous sport. A
lump of soft clay was stuck on the end of a limber and springy willow
wand and thrown as boys throw apples from sticks, with considerable
force. When there were fifty or a hundred players on each side, the
battle became warm; but anything to arouse the bravery of Indian boys
seemed to them a good and wholesome diversion.

Wrestling was largely indulged in by us all. It may seem odd,, but
wrestling was done by a great many boys at once--from ten to any number
on a side. It was really a battle, in which each one chose his opponent.
The rule was that if a boy sat down, he was let alone, but as long as
he remained standing within the field, he was open to an attack. No one
struck with the hand, but all manner of tripping with legs and feet
and butting with the knees was allowed. Altogether it was an exhausting
pastime--fully equal to the American game of football and only the young
athlete could really enjoy it.

One of our most curious sports was a war upon the nests of wild bees.
We imagined ourselves about to make an attack upon the Ojibways or some
tribal foe. We all painted and stole cautiously upon the nest; then,
with a rush and warwhoop, sprang upon the object of our attack and
endeavored to destroy it. But it seemed that the bees were always on the
alert and never entirely surprised, for they always raised quite as many
scalps as did their bold assailants! After the onslaught upon the nest
was ended, we usually followed it by a pretended scalp dance.

On the occasion of my first experience in this mode of warfare,
there were two other l