ads to the feathered
scalp-lock. I was, however, too well versed in the Indian character
either to show or to feel any trepidation.

As the wild band closed about us in mock attack, a stately warrior whom
Frank said was Characterish, or White Wolf, the grand chief of the
nation, forced his horse through the mob and greeted me with a guttural
"_Bon jour_!" Upon my return of the salute, he invited me to his lodge.
This was gratifying, for I could see by the Spanish grand medal he wore
suspended from his neck that he had been particularly favored by the
Spaniards, and so might very well have felt ill-disposed toward all
Americans.

When we advanced, escorted by the warriors, we were met by all the rest
of the population, running and shouting and leaping with excitement at
the arrival of their fellow-tribesman and the white man. But at a word
from Characterish, not only the women and children but the warriors as
well quitted their clamor and gave us free passage into the village.

Unlike the mat and slab lodges of the Osages, the Pawnee houses are
substantial structures. Their wattled walls and grassed roof, supported
by a double circle of posts, are covered with a thick layer of sods and
earth above and over all. This makes them cool in Summer and warm in
cold weather; yet, like the Osages, the Pawnees always move down into
the timbers for the Winter.

Arriving at the lodge of White Wolf, I was shown in through the covered
portico which gave the lodge quite the aspect of a civilized home.
Within I found the chief's wives and men-servants busily cooking a meal
for us on the fire in the middle of the wide pit which occupied the
greater part of the lodge's interior. That there might be no doubt of
his hospitality, the chief at once assigned to me one of the snug little
curtained compartments built against the wall, around the edge of the
pit. My room was in the place of honor, beneath the sacred medicine
bundle, on the far side of the lodge.

By the time I had my rifle and saddle stowed away, the chief's cook, a
maimed old warrior, called us to come and eat. I sat down with my host
and his two sons to a none too savory stew of dried buffalo meat,
thickened with pumpkin. To this was added a mess of corn cooked in
buffalo grease. But a prairie traveller is seldom troubled with a dainty
stomach, and I managed to compliment my host by making a hearty meal of
it.

As soon as we had eaten, White Wolf sent out a crier to call