lly the older women, unless I went to their homes, I arranged
with Mr. Cross to take me to the different villages. We spent two days
in going about.

I should think there are between forty and fifty houses in the three
villages near there. In each of two houses, we found _three wives_ and
ten children, and the others were well populated. All were in ignorance,
and filth, and degradation, pitiable to see. Some babies nearly a year
old had never been thoroughly washed since their birth. Some of the
older people had never been to the school-house. A few rather pride
themselves upon keeping aloof from the native teacher and the various
exercises he conducts. We were pleasantly received at all the places.
Some of the people had heard of "The Sacred Herald's" wife, though they
had never seen me.

Wishing to have all the women come to the school-house, that I might see
more of them and have them meet Virginia De Coteau, the teacher's wife,
we invited them to a feast. This is something the Dakotas are very fond
of, though usually it is connected with some of their dances or other
heathen customs. Some of the old women wished to know if I was going to
_preach_ to them, evidently wanting to fight shy of anything of this
sort, but I told them no, it was to be a real feast, not a prayer
meeting.

Mr. Cross entered heartily into the preparations for the festivity. We
made about five gallons of coffee and the same quantity of stew,
consisting of meat, onions, turnips, beans, rice and crackers, with the
gravy well thickened--a very savory mess it was, too. We had crackers to
pass around. Not a very elaborate _menu_, but one which appealed
strongly to the Dakota taste.

By noon the women began to gather, and soon the school-room was well
filled, a good many sitting on the floor. There were about fifty
present, not counting little babies. There were only two painted faces,
though in our visiting there was scarcely a house in which there were
not two or more of the women painted; the most of them had washed their
faces and put on clean dresses.

I had told them all to bring their own dishes, and the variety was
amusing. There was everything in size from an ordinary cup to a milk-pan
and one much battered long-handled dipper. Coffee and crackers were
passed first, then the stew. "Oh, it smells of onions!" was the
exclamation as I dished it out. All seemed very happy, and laughed and
joked as they ate. I told them I had been ten year