aid to the Great
Spirit, that he might take pity on them, and send them supplies. The
dancers assembled in the middle of the village, each wearing his mask,
with its horns and long tail, and carrying in his hand a lance, or a
bow and arrows. The dance began, by about a dozen of them thus
attired, starting, hopping, jumping and creeping in all manner of
strange, uncouth forms; singing, yelping, and making odd sounds of
every description, while others were shaking rattles and beating drums
with all their might; the drums, the rattles, the yelling, the
frightful din, with the uncouth antics of the dancers, altogether
presented such a scene, that, were you once to be present at a buffalo
dance, you would talk of it long after, and would not forget it all
the days of your lives.

_Basil._ And do they keep that up for a fortnight?

_Hunter._ Sometimes much longer, for they never give over dancing till
the buffaloes come. Every dancer, when he is tired, (and this he makes
known by crouching down quite low,) is shot with blunt arrows, and
dragged away, when his place is supplied by another. While the dance
is going on, scouts are sent out to look for buffaloes, and as soon as
they are found, a shout of thanksgiving is raised to the Great Spirit,
to the medicine man, and to the dancers, and preparation is made for a
buffalo hunt. After this, a great feast takes place; all their
sufferings from scarcity are forgotten, and they are as prodigal, and
indeed wasteful, of their buffalo meat, as if they had never known the
want of it.

_Austin._ Well, I should like to see the buffalo dance. Could not we
manage one on the lawn, Brian?

_Brian._ But where are we to get the buffalo masks from? The buffalo
hunt did very well, but I hardly think we could manage the dance
Please to tell us of the bear dance.

_Hunter._ I think it will be better to tell you about that, and other
dances, the next time you visit me; for I want to read to you a short
account, which I have here, of a poor Indian woman of the Dog-ribbed
tribe. I have not said much of Indian women, and I want you to feel
kindly towards them. It was Hearne, who went with a party from
Hudson's Bay to the Northern Ocean, many years ago, who fell in with
the poor woman.

_Basil._ Oh, yes; let us hear all about her; and you can tell us of
the dances when we come again.

_Hunter._ Now, then, I will begin. One day in January, when they were
hunting, they saw the track of a stran