ok like good living?"

In fact I could see, even at that distance, that long cords were
stretched from lodge to lodge, over which the meat, cut by the squaws
into thin sheets, was hanging to dry in the sun. I noticed too that the
village was somewhat smaller than when I had last seen it, and I asked
Reynal the cause. He said that the old Le Borgne had felt too weak
to pass over the mountains, and so had remained behind with all his
relations, including Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers. The Whirlwind
too had been unwilling to come so far, because, as Reynal said, he was
afraid. Only half a dozen lodges had adhered to him, the main body of
the village setting their chief's authority at naught, and taking the
course most agreeable to their inclinations.

"What chiefs are there in the village now?" said I.

"Well," said Reynal, "there's old Red-Water, and the Eagle-Feather, and
the Big Crow, and the Mad Wolf and the Panther, and the White Shield,
and--what's his name?--the half-breed Cheyenne."

By this time we were close to the village, and I observed that while the
greater part of the lodges were very large and neat in their appearance,
there was at one side a cluster of squalid, miserable huts. I looked
toward them, and made some remark about their wretched appearance. But I
was touching upon delicate ground.

"My squaw's relations live in those lodges," said Reynal very warmly,
"and there isn't a better set in the whole village."

"Are there any chiefs among them?" asked I.

"Chiefs?" said Reynal; "yes, plenty!"

"What are their names?" I inquired.

"Their names? Why, there's the Arrow-Head. If he isn't a chief he ought
to be one. And there's the Hail-Storm. He's nothing but a boy, to be
sure; but he's bound to be a chief one of these days!"

Just then we passed between two of the lodges, and entered the great
area of the village. Superb naked figures stood silently gazing on us.

"Where's the Bad Wound's lodge?" said I to Reynal.

"There, you've missed it again! The Bad Wound is away with The
Whirlwind. If you could have found him here, and gone to live in his
lodge, he would have treated you better than any man in the village.
But there's the Big Crow's lodge yonder, next to old Red-Water's. He's a
good Indian for the whites, and I advise you to go and live with him."

"Are there many squaws and children in his lodge?" said I.

"No; only one squaw and two or three children. He keeps the rest in a
separat