The Indians in the mean time had shaken hands with the audience, and received many fine presents, and having gathered their robes and their weapons, and Mr. Rankin having announced to Cadotte that "the carriage was ready," the poor fellow turned upon his heel and said, "I am obliged to go." "I am so sorry," she exclaimed; "but look ye, can you read?" "Yes, ma'am." "But can you read writing?" "Yes, a little." "Oh, well, never mind, I'm going to be here every night--oh! it is so charming to me! Good night, good night!" The Indians were now off to their lodgings, and the greater part of the audience also, leaving poor Daniel, as usual, in the midst of some dozen or two of the most inquisitive and knowledge seeking and devouring, to answer the accustomed routine of inquiries reserved for this (to them) most profitable part of the exhibition. He was assuring the crowd around him that "these people were _not_ taken with a lasso, nor were they taken in a pit (as some had conjectured), but that they had _come in_ of their own accord," &c. He was also showing the _real lasso_, and explaining that it was only a cord with a noose at the end of it, which the Indians throw over the wild horses' necks to catch them, and not "a _net_ or a _hammock_," to both of which he pointed, and which it seems many had mistook for lassoes. He had also commented upon several _real scalps_ which he had taken down and was holding in his hand, saying, "Gentlemen, what nonsense to talk about Indians eating the scalps! You see the scalp is nothing but a small piece of the skin from the top of the head, with the hair on it, and dried as hard as a bit of sole-leather: there couldn't be any pleasure in eating a thing of that sort."