That evening a band of Kiawah Indians came into the town and camped
where the statehouse now stands. I happened to meet some of them, and
being acquainted with them I stopped and talked with them, and they told
me that they were going to have a peace smoke and a dance next day, and
they wanted me to join them, which, knowing it would not be wise to
decline, I promised to do.

When I went back to camp, I told Uncle Kit and the others of the
invitation I had received and accepted. Uncle Kit said, "I guess we are
too old to take a part in the dance, but we can go and look on and watch
the fun." We did not go to the Indian camp until near noon the next
day; and I think there were two or three hundred white men, women and
children standing around the camp when we got there, and the majority of
them had never seen an Indian before.

As Uncle Kit and Bridger and Beckwith did not wish to take a part in the
performance, they kept out of sight of the Indians, and I went into the
camp, and as soon as I arrived the Indians commenced to form the circle
for the peace smoke.

We had all just taken our seats, and the head chief was in the act of
lighting the pipe when he sang out, "O Wah," at the top of his voice,
and in an instant every Indian sprang to his feet and started to run. I
could not think what was the matter until I looked around and saw a man
a short distance from us with a camera in the act of taking a photo of
us, but he never got the picture, for not an Indian stopped running
until his wigwam hid him from view.

The man with the camera looked the disappointment he felt as he came to
me and asked if I were acquainted with those Indians.

He said, "What in creation was the matter with them? What made them get
up and run? I would rather have given fifty dollars than miss taking
that picture."

I could scarcely answer him I was so choked with laughter. But I managed
to tell him that I reckoned the Indians thought that he had some
infernal machine pointed at them that would blow them all to the happy
hunting grounds.

He asked me if I would go and tell the chief that the camera would not
hurt them and try to make them understand what he was doing with it. He
said, "If you can persuade them to let me take a photo of them, I will
pay you well for your trouble."

I told him I would try, but I was doubtful of his getting the picture.

So I went to the chief's wigwam and tried to explain to him and to
persuade him t