strength. I shouted:

"'I have still a bow and a quiver full of arrows; you had better let me
alone.'

"He replied to this with a rough growl. I sent an arrow into his side,
and he groaned like a man as he tried hard to pull it out. I had to give
him several more before he went a short distance away, and died. It was
now daylight, so I came down from my perch. I was stiff, and scarcely
able to walk. I found that the bear had killed both of my little
friends, the porcupines, and eaten most of the meat.

"Perhaps you wonder, Ohiyesa, why I did not use my gun in the beginning;
but I had learned that if I once missed my aim with it, I had no second
chance. I have told of this particular adventure, because it was an
unusual experience to see so many different animals in one night. I have
often been in similar places, and killed one or two. Once a common black
bear stole a whole deer from me without waking me. But all this life is
fast disappearing, and the world is becoming different."

VII. THE END OF THE BEAR DANCE

IT was one of the superstitions of the Santee Sioux to treat disease
from the standpoint of some animal or inanimate thing. That person who,
according to their belief, had been commissioned to become a medicine
man or a war chief, must not disobey the bear or other creature or
thing which gave him his commission. If he ever ventured to do so, the
offender must pay for his insubordination with his life, or that of his
own child or dearest friend. It was supposed to be necessary that the
supernatural orders be carried into effect at a particular age and a
certain season of the year. Occasionally a very young man, who excused
himself on the ground of youth and modesty, might be forgiven.

One of my intimate friends had been a sufferer from what, I suppose,
must have been consumption. He, like myself, had a grandmother in whom
he had unlimited faith. But she was a very ambitious and pretentious
woman. Among her many claims was that of being a great "medicine woman,"
and many were deceived by it; but really she was a fraud, for she did
not give any medicine, but "conjured" the sick exclusively.

At this time my little friend was fast losing ground, in spite of
his grandmother's great pretensions. At last I hinted to him that my
grandmother was a herbalist, and a skilful one. But he hinted back to me
that 'most any old woman who could dig roots could be a herbalist, and
that without a supernatural commis