ghly convinced that Boyton was supplied with no interior
mechanism in the way of lungs, stomach, etc.

Sitting Bull conceived a strong friendship for Paul and they exchanged
gifts, and Minnestema, Bull's daughter, who was really handsome for an
Indian girl, looked upon him as second only to her distinguished father
in greatness. Paul thought to flatter Minnestema, and through the
interpreter, told her that he had heard her praises sung far up the
river, that she was the toast at every fort and that the fame of her
beauty had even spread to the great cities of the whites. Her copper
countenance expressed much pleasure at this; but she dispelled the
romance by immediately asking Paul in broken English, if he had any
plug chewing tobacco.

The friendship between Paul and Sitting Bull lasted until the latter was
killed in the ghost dance excitement during the winter of 1891. When
the old chief was on a tour of the east in 1885, his face lighted up
with joy when he met Boyton and gave him a cordial welcome.

Paul left Fort Randall, October 20th. After he had encased himself in
his rubber dress, the Indians could not be induced to shake hands with
him. A little girl put her hand into his and all the chiefs, in
admiration of her bravery, exclaimed, "how".

White Dog, Scarlet Thunder, Kill-While-Standing and One Bull were
anxious to see the "Water Spirit" float away, but they kept at a
respectful distance from Paul as he stood on the slope before slipping
into the water.

The afternoon was pleasant and as they glided down on the current
followed by the wondering eyes of the soldiers as well as the Indians,
Paul and Creelman felt refreshed and vigorous and made good time. Just
after dark, they passed the Yankton Indian Agency and were cheered.

That night was dark, even the stars being obscured by the clouds. A
number of prairie fires threw some light on the water, but barely enough
to make the passage among snags and sand bars feasible. At daybreak the
villages of Niobrara and Running Water were passed. A couple of
hours later the weary voyagers hauled up on the bank and cooked
breakfast. When barely under way again, a boat containing a rough
looking stranger approached. He carried a shot gun and rowed along
sometime without uttering a word. Though silent, he appeared to extract
a great deal of satisfaction from his contemplation of Boyton.

"What are you going to do with that gun?" questioned