From the time of our arrival at the garrison, small parties of Indians had been constantly coming and going. They belonged to the Kickapoo tribe; another band of emigrants from the States. There were many manly forms among them, and some of their females were even beautiful. Scarce a day elapsed that we did not catch a glimpse of the gaudily dressed figures of some band, their tin trinkets glistening in the sunbeams, and their bright garments fluttering in the wind, as they galloped over the prairie towards the garrison. They carry on a species of traffic with the sutler at the post; exchanging furs and skins for ribands, and such other showy articles as are likely to catch the eye of a savage. This tribe, from long intercourse with the inhabitants of the settlements, have become accustomed to driving bargains, and are looked upon by the generality of traders as pretty hard customers; yet even from them, the profits derived by the whites are great. From seeing these different bands constantly coming and going to and from their village, we conceived a desire to visit them; and accordingly, upon a fine clear morning, we started. The path was for the most part through the woods. We rode about an hour, crossed several brooks, traversed several small patches of prairie, and at last found ourselves upon the summit of a high bluff which overlooked the little Indian town, and commanded a fine view of the whole neighbouring country. At our feet lay a small green prairie, dotted with clusters of wild flowers. Three of its sides were enclosed by a ridge of hills, at the foot of which meandered a clear, sparkling brook, brawling in low murmurs over its rocky bottom. A long range of trees stood upon its borders, leaning over the stream, and shading its waters from the noontide sun. The fourth side of the green was hemmed in by a dark thick forest, which extended back to the banks of the Missouri. In the edge of this stood the village of the Kickapoos. It fronted upon the variegated green. It was a retired, rural spot, shut out from the world, and looked as if it might have been free from its cares also. As we stood upon the bluff, a small party of inhabitants from the village moved towards a tree growing alone in the prairie, about a quarter of a mile from the town, and collected together beneath its shade. Presently, two young Indians made their appearance, mounted on horseback. Suspecting that there was to be a race of some description, we left the bluff, dashed through the brook at the bottom of the hill, and in a few moments were under the tree where the group had assembled. They received us in their usual calm manner, and we were satisfied; for the welcome of an Indian is shown more by actions than words. There is no superfluous expression of feelings which he never had—he never makes use of hypocrisy—he receives you with a good will, or not at all.