Early one clear morning the Indian mentioned in the last chapter left the Otoe village on a visit to the Agency. After swimming the Platte, and fording the pure still waters of the Elk Horn, he strapped his time-worn buffalo robe tightly round his body, and proceeded onward. As he was on a friendly visit, to gossip with his old cronies at the Agency, he had no weapon; but carried under his arm his inseparable companion, his pipe. As this pipe is destined to bear a conspicuous part in the adventure which is to follow, it would perhaps be worth while to describe it. The stem was of ash, about four feet in length, half an inch in diameter, and charred in the fire until it had acquired a dirty brown colour. The bowl was of stone, to contain the kinne-ka-neek[G], which an Indian uses as a substitute for tobacco. He usually carries it about him in a small pouch, formed of the entire skin of a young otter, musk-rat, or fox-squirrel. [G] _Kinne-ka-neek_ is a substance used by the Indians as a substitute for tobacco. It is made by crushing to fineness the dried leaves or bark of the wild sumach. This is then mixed with plug tobacco, cut fine, and is smoked by them. The proportion of tobacco to sumach is about one fourth. The tobacco pouch of the Indians is always formed of the skin of one of the animals above mentioned. The head is left appended to it; and the bones, intestines, and fleshy substance are removed from the body through a small hole cut in the throat, which afterwards serves as the mouth of the pouch. These pouches are often highly ornamented, with stained porcupine quills, beads, and, if their owners can obtain them, hawks’ bells. The route to the Otoe Agency lay across a range of steep, ragged ridges. The Indian sauntered slowly along. He had a whole summer’s day before him, and was never in a hurry in his movements. Arrived at the summit of a hill which commanded a wide prospect, he paused to cast a wary look around him. The country lay spread out at his feet. Here and there it was broken by small patches of timber and brushwood, which served to give relief to the otherwise barren appearance of the prairie. There was nothing to be seen wearing a hostile garb—not even a wolf. Notwithstanding this apparent security, his watchfulness never slumbered. He had been too often hunted and harassed by foes, to relax for an instant that vigilance which from necessity becomes a constant habit with an Indian. He travelled for several hours, and his journey was nearly at its end. The tall, thick timber, which darkened the bank of the Missouri, was now seen raising its dusky outline above the summits of the distant ridges. The groves and tangled thickets were becoming more and more frequent, and every thing bespoke a near approach to that king of rivers, the mighty Missouri.