nd ambitious Dakota warrior can
sometimes boast of heroic virtues. It is very seldom that distinction
and influence are attained among them by any other course than that of
arms. Their superstition, however, sometimes gives great power, to those
among them who pretend to the character of magicians. Their wild hearts,
too, can feel the power of oratory, and yield deference to the masters
of it.

But to return. Look into our tent, or enter, if you can bear the
stifling smoke and the close atmosphere. There, wedged close together,
you will see a circle of stout warriors, passing the pipe around,
joking, telling stories, and making themselves merry, after their
fashion. We were also infested by little copper-colored naked boys and
snake-eyed girls. They would come up to us, muttering certain words,
which being interpreted conveyed the concise invitation, "Come and eat."
Then we would rise, cursing the pertinacity of Dakota hospitality, which
allowed scarcely an hour of rest between sun and sun, and to which we
were bound to do honor, unless we would offend our entertainers. This
necessity was particularly burdensome to me, as I was scarcely able to
walk, from the effects of illness, and was of course poorly qualified
to dispose of twenty meals a day. Of these sumptuous banquets I gave a
specimen in a former chapter, where the tragical fate of the little dog
was chronicled. So bounteous an entertainment looks like an outgushing
of good will; but doubtless one-half at least of our kind hosts, had
they met us alone and unarmed on the prairie, would have robbed us of
our horses, and perchance have bestowed an arrow upon us beside. Trust
not an Indian. Let your rifle be ever in your hand. Wear next your heart
the old chivalric motto SEMPER PARATUS.

One morning we were summoned to the lodge of an old man, in good truth
the Nestor of his tribe. We found him half sitting, half reclining on a
pile of buffalo robes; his long hair, jet-black even now, though he
had seen some eighty winters, hung on either side of his thin features.
Those most conversant with Indians in their homes will scarcely believe
me when I affirm that there was dignity in his countenance and mien. His
gaunt but symmetrical frame, did not more clearly exhibit the wreck of
bygone strength, than did his dark, wasted features, still prominent and
commanding, bear the stamp of mental energies. I recalled, as I saw him,
the eloquent metaphor of the Iroquois sachem: