gratify them in the first particular, but was most anxious to promote a cordial reconciliation between them and their ancient enemies. I was particularly pleased with the speech of a grim old warrior, called The Black Eagle. After describing their state of perpetual hostility with the Saulteaux : "In our plains" said he, "every stock, every stone, is taken for an enemy ; these fears can no longer be endured: let the Sioux and the Saulteaux smoke the calumet of peace ; let them hunt the buffalo together, and let them henceforth be one nation." Another orator, of a more lively mien, concluded his harangue by begging "a drink of (rum) fire-water;" "for," said he, "I love it better than ever I did my mother's milk." As second officer, I assisted Mr. Christie during the interview, and officiated at the same time as French interpreter, that being the language of the only capable Sioux speaker at the place. At the close of the "palaver," The Burning Earth presented Mr. Christie and myself with ornamented pipes, and I handed him the gun I carried in return.[1] All went on
- ↑ His people then entertained us in the open air with their national dances, which are more animated than most Indian exhibitions of this sort. The Corypheus, a humorous little fellow, was really amusing. His place was on the outside of the ring, and, as he moved round the dancers, he saluted each with a smart lash of a thong on the bare back, and immediately after sounded a shrill whistle with a look of malicious drollery.
