"I am an aged hemlock; the
winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches, and I
am dead at the top!" Opposite the patriarch was his nephew, the young
aspirant Mahto-Tatonka; and besides these, there were one or two women
in the lodge.

The old man's story is peculiar, and singularly illustrative of a
superstitious custom that prevails in full force among many of the
Indian tribes. He was one of a powerful family, renowned for their
warlike exploits. When a very young man, he submitted to the singular
rite to which most of the tribe subject themselves before entering
upon life. He painted his face black; then seeking out a cavern in a
sequestered part of the Black Hills, he lay for several days, fasting
and praying to the Great Spirit. In the dreams and visions produced by
his weakened and excited state, he fancied like all Indians, that he
saw supernatural revelations. Again and again the form of an antelope
appeared before him. The antelope is the graceful peace spirit of the
Ogallalla; but seldom is it that such a gentle visitor presents itself
during the initiatory fasts of their young men. The terrible grizzly
bear, the divinity of war, usually appears to fire them with martial
ardor and thirst for renown. At length the antelope spoke. He told the
young dreamer that he was not to follow the path of war; that a life of
peace and tranquillity was marked out for him; that henceforward he was
to guide the people by his counsels and protect them from the evils of
their own feuds and dissensions. Others were to gain renown by fighting
the enemy; but greatness of a different kind was in store for him.

The visions beheld during the period of this fast usually determine
the whole course of the dreamer's life, for an Indian is bound by iron
superstitions. From that time, Le Borgne, which was the only name by
which we knew him, abandoned all thoughts of war and devoted himself to
the labors of peace. He told his vision to the people. They honored his
commission and respected him in his novel capacity.

A far different man was his brother, Mahto-Tatonka, who had transmitted
his names, his features, and many of his characteristic qualities to his
son. He was the father of Henry Chatillon's squaw, a circumstance which
proved of some advantage to us, as securing for us the friendship of
a family perhaps the most distinguished and powerful in the whole
Ogallalla band. Mahto-Tatonka, in his rude way, was a hero. No