ng apartment, which
consists of one of two tepees thrown together. In one are the tomtom
beaters, in the other the dancers. In this room the couple begin to
dance, making signs to each other, the meaning of which may be: "Well,
what do you think of me? Do you like me? Do you think me pretty? How do
I affect you?" and so on, the signs all being closely watched by the
spectators, who applaud, giggle, chuckle or laugh uproariously by turns,
as the case may be. Such a dance is a questioning bee, a collision of
wits on the part of two really facetious Indians.

Wit is a universal trait of the savage. Some white men draw. All Indians
draw. Some white men are cunning. All Indians are cunning. Some white
men are humorous. All Indians are witty. Dry wit, with a proverbial
philosophy in it which would have delighted the soul of Tupper, is
indigenous to the Indian. The Indian is the finest epigrammist on earth.
His sentences are pithy and sententious, because short--never long and
involved. A book of Indian wit and wisdom would have an enormous sale,
and reveal the very core of his thought on a typical scale.

The Indian flirt is sweet, saucy, subtle, seductive. She has the art of
keeping in stock constantly about her a score of bucks, each one of whom
flatters himself that he, and he alone, is the special object of her
admiration. Every tribe has had its belle. Poquite for the Modocs,
Ur-ska-te-na for the Navajos, Mini-haha for the Dakotas, Romona for the
neighboring bands. These belles have their foes among Indian women, but,
however cordially hated, they never brawl or come to blows.

Love-making is one of the interesting night scenes in an Indian camp.
When a young man wants to court a pretty red couquette, he stands at the
door of his lodge on a bright day and flashes a ray of light from his
sun-glass on the face of his sweetheart far away. She sees the ray as it
falls on her, and follows in the direction whence it is thrown, right or
left. She understands the secret of these flash lights. Soon the lovers
meet, each under a blanket; not a word, not a salutation is exchanged;
they stand near each other for a time and then retire, only to repeat
the affair day after day.

At last, upon some favorable night, the Indian youth visits the door of
her lodge; she comes out and sits down on the ground beside him; still
no word is spoken. At last she arises from the ground; he also rises,
and standing before her, throws his blanket