dead man arose, shook himself, put his hand wearily to his head, and asked: "My God, what's the matter, boys?" Then he staggered about, many of the men afraid to touch him, or even go near him, and in a few moments was dead in good earnest. The explanation made by Doctor Grimes was that, in the first place, the man had been shot through the head at the intersection or junction of the jaws just under the brain; the shock had knocked him senseless, and the blood spurting from the ghastly wound had led the soldiers to conclude somewhat hastily that he was dead; the slip of canvas carelessly thrown over the body had preserved it from being suffocated by the earth scraped against it; the wound was so near the brain that it would have been impossible to avoid inflammation of the latter organ, and when this set in, the victim fell dead.
The case of the Poncas was, beyond question, the most important one occurring within General Crook's jurisdiction after the pacification of the Sioux. I do not purpose entering into all its ramifications, which would be entirely too tedious for the reader, but it may be summed up in a nutshell. The Poncas were a small band of Siouan stock, closely affiliated to the Omahas, who lived at the mouth of the Niobrara, on the Missouri River. They had a reservation which, unluckily for them, was arable and consequently coveted by the white invader. From this they were bulldozed by officials of the Government and transported to the Indian Territory, where malaria and other disorders, complicated with homesickness, depleted their numbers, and made them all anxious to return to the old land. Application for permission to do this was refused, and thereupon a portion of the band tried the experiment of going at their own expense across country, walking every foot of the way, molesting nobody, and subsisting upon charity. Not a shot was fired at any one; not so much as a dog was stolen. The western country was at that time filled with white tramps by thousands, whose presence excited no comment; but the spectacle of nearly two hundred Indians going along peaceably back to their old habitat to seek work and earn their own bread, was too much for the equilibrium of the authorities in Washington. One of the Indians was carrying a sack tied by a string to his neck; it contained the bones of a beloved grandchild—not a very heinous
