is difficult of acquisition, but it is a copious, well-constructed dialect, inferior to none of the aboriginal tongues of North America. We had been hard at work for several hours, and all were tired. "To eat," said "White Horse," "is so and so; but to eat something good, and hot, and sweet, right now, right here in this room, is so and so and so, and you can tell your good cook to bring it." It was brought at once.
I have not introduced the lesser figures in this picture: men like "American Horse," "Young Man Afraid," "Blue Horse," "Rocky Bear," and others who have since become, and were even in those days, leaders among the Dakotas. My canvas would become too crowded. It must do to say that each of these was full of native intelligence, wise in his way, and worthy of being encouraged in his progress along the new and toilsome path of civilization. But I must make room for a few words about "Three Bears" ("Mato-yamani"), a warrior fierce in battle and humane to the vanquished. I remember his coming into my tent one dismally cold night, while we lay on the Belle Fourche, on the outskirts of the Black Hills, after wiping out "Dull Knife's" village. "Three Bears's" eyes were moist, and he shook his head mournfully as he said, "Cheyenne pappoose heap hung'y."
"Sorrel Horse" ("Shunca-luta") was a "medicine man," a ventriloquist, and a magician. The women and children stood in awe of an uncanny wretch who boasted that, if they doubted his power, they might let him cut off a lock of their hair, and inside of three days they should die. After my electrical duel with "High Wolf," "Sorrel Horse" manifested an inclination to show me what he could do. He lay down on the floor, put the hot bowl of a pipe in his mouth, and alternately inhaled the smoke or caused it to issue from the stem. Pretty soon he went into a trance, and deep groans and grunts were emitted from the abdominal region. When he came to, he assured us that that was the voice of a spirit which he kept within him. He shuffled a pack of cards, and handing it to General Mackenzie, bade him take out any one he wanted and he would tell the name; Mackenzie did as he desired, and "Sorrel Horse" promptly fixed his fingers in diamond-shape and called out "Squaw," for the queen of diamonds, and similarly for the seven of clubs, and others as fast as drawn. He again lay down on the floor, and opened
