ful hunter obtains a robe of buffalo-skin, painted inside,
and representing some of his most daring exploits; the most virtuous has
for his share a coronet made either of gold or silver; and these
premiums are suspended in their wigwams, as marks of honour, and handed
down to their posterity. In fact, they become a kind of _ecusson_, which
ennobles a family.

Once during the distribution of these much-coveted prizes, a young man
of twenty-two was called by the chiefs to receive the premium of virtue.
The Indian advanced towards his chiefs, when an elder of the tribe
rising, addressed the whole audience. He pointed the young man out, as
one whose example should be followed, and recorded, among many other
praiseworthy actions, that three squaws, with many children, having been
reduced to misery by the death of their husbands in the last war against
the Crows, this young man, although the deceased were the greatest foes
of his family, undertook to provide for their widows and children till
the boys, grown up, would be able to provide for themselves and their
mothers. Since that time, he had given them the produce of his chase,
reserving to himself nothing but what was strictly necessary to sustain
the wants of nature. This was a noble and virtuous act, one that pleased
the Manitou. It was an example which all the Shoshones should follow.

The young man bowed, and as the venerable chief was stooping to put the
coronet upon his head, he started back and, to the astonishment of all,
refused the premium.

"Chiefs, warriors, elders of the Shoshones, pardon me! You know the good
which I have done, but you know not in what I have erred. My first
feeling was to receive the coronet, and conceal what wrong I had done;
but a voice in my heart forbids my taking what others have perchance
better deserved.

"Hear me, Shoshones! the truth must be told; hear my shame! One day, I
was hungry; it was in the great prairies. I had killed no game, and I
was afraid to return among our young men with empty hands. I remained
four days hunting, and still I saw neither buffaloes nor bears. At last,
I perceived the tent of an Arrapahoe. I went in; there was no one there,
and it was full of well-cured meat. I had not eaten for five days; I was
hungry, and I became a thief, I took away a large piece, and ran away
like a cowardly wolf. I have said: the prize cannot be mine."

A murmur ran through the assembly, and the chiefs, holy men, and elders
c