es, some children
and half-grown squaws were playfully tossing up one of their number in
a buffalo robe, an exact counterpart of the ancient pastime from which
Sancho Panza suffered so much. Farther out on the prairie, a host of
little naked boys were roaming about, engaged in various rough games, or
pursuing birds and ground-squirrels with their bows and arrows; and
woe to the unhappy little animals that fell into their merciless,
torture-loving hands! A squaw from the next lodge, a notable active
housewife named Weah Washtay, or the Good Woman, brought us a large bowl
of wasna, and went into an ecstasy of delight when I presented her
with a green glass ring, such as I usually wore with a view to similar
occasions.

The sun went down and half the sky was growing fiery red, reflected on
the little stream as it wound away among the sagebushes. Some young
men left the village, and soon returned, driving in before them all
the horses, hundreds in number, and of every size, age, and color. The
hunters came out, and each securing those that belonged to him, examined
their condition, and tied them fast by long cords to stakes driven in
front of his lodge. It was half an hour before the bustle subsided
and tranquillity was restored again. By this time it was nearly dark.
Kettles were hung over the blazing fires, around which the squaws were
gathered with their children, laughing and talking merrily. A circle
of a different kind was formed in the center of the village. This was
composed of the old men and warriors of repute, who with their white
buffalo robes drawn close around their shoulders, sat together, and as
the pipe passed from hand to hand, their conversation had not a particle
of the gravity and reserve usually ascribed to Indians. I sat down with
them as usual. I had in my hand half a dozen squibs and serpents, which
I had made one day when encamped upon Laramie Creek, out of gunpowder
and charcoal, and the leaves of "Fremont's Expedition," rolled round a
stout lead pencil. I waited till I contrived to get hold of the large
piece of burning BOIS DE VACHE which the Indians kept by them on the
ground for lighting their pipes. With this I lighted all the fireworks
at once, and tossed them whizzing and sputtering into the air, over
the heads of the company. They all jumped up and ran off with yelps of
astonishment and consternation. After a moment or two, they ventured to
come back one by one, and some of the boldest, pi