To dress and ornament himself with trinkets and gewgaws, is the delight of a savage. The glittering presents of the whites bear as strong an attraction to the warrior as to the female or the child, though his disciplined habits prevent those loud bursts of pleasure which escape unrestrained from them. Scarcely a day elapsed but a little group would collect before our tents for the purpose of ornamenting themselves. They were apparently very fastidious in their taste; for when hours had been spent by an Indian beau in laying on one streak of paint after another, and in ogling himself by piecemeal in a small scrap of looking glass, some defect would appear, and with an exclamation of dissatisfaction the whole would be rubbed off. The work would then be recommenced with unabated perseverance, until he succeeded in daubing and ornamenting himself to his entire satisfaction. When the toilette was completed, a surprising change came over the young warriors. They would fling their blankets ostentatiously around them, and with a lordly air lounge through the town; looking first at one of the young squaws, then at another; and occasionally condescending to speak to some dirty-looking brother, with that patronising air which, in all countries, a well-dressed person is apt to assume in conversing with a ragged acquaintance. When they had finished their perambulations, they would mount upon the top of one of the highest lodges, and stand for hours to be gazed at by the different idlers; a term which, in truth, might be applied to the whole of the male portion of the town. In war and in hunting there is no being more untiring than the Indian. He will spend days and weeks in search of an enemy. If in the course of his travel he meets with a strange track crossing his path, his journey is at an end, until he has satisfied himself whether it is that of a friend or a foe. If it is ascertained to be that of an enemy, and if there is any prospect of gaining a scalp, the main pursuit gives place to this. He follows upon the trail, rapidly and surely, and nothing is left undone to insure the successful accomplishment of his purpose. He endures fatigues of all kinds; fasting and peril are unheeded by him; he has but one aim: it is murder. There is but little chivalry in the Indian warfare. The pursuer steals like a snake upon his foe. He gives him no warning—no opportunity to resist his fate. Often the death-scream of the victim is simultaneous with the crack of the rifle that gives him the first notice of a foe.