Here we found a wife of the Iotan chief, standing on the edge of the water. She had accompanied him from his village. She was young, tall, and finely formed; her face, next to that of the wife of the Kioway Indian, was the most beautiful we had met with. Her hair was parted across her forehead, and hung down upon her shoulders. A small jacket of blue cloth, was fastened round her shoulders and breast, and a mantle of the same, was wrapped around her body. They had been presented to her by the commissioner, but a few days before. She was standing upon a small sand-bar, and the water was gurgling around her feet; a short distance in front of her, a deep channel was rushing with a powerful current. She looked at the water, and then at her dress, with an expression of almost childish sorrow, for, to swim the river would ruin her finery. The Indians had all reached the opposite bank, and were waiting for the rest to come up, so that no assistance could be expected from them. Just then the hunters dashed by her, into the deep channel, but did not even notice her. I was the last of the party, and she knew it; for though we could not speak the same language, there was an imploring expression in her large dark eye as she fixed it upon me, that told every thing. Still I hesitated: I thought of pushing on; there was a powerful struggle between selfishness and a desire to assist her; she saw it, and speaking a few words in her own silvery tongue, she at the same time pointed to her new dress. There was something so sorrowful in the tone and gesture, that I could not resist it. I took my rifle in my left hand, and reaching out my right, she seized it; she placed her foot on mine, and, with a sudden bound, was upon the back of my horse, stooping behind me, with her arms round my neck. The horse had so long been accustomed to have his own way in every thing, that he grew very indignant at this new imposition—but a lunge of the spurs subdued his wrath, and he bounded forward into the rushing river. He was a powerful animal, and took to the water like a sea-fowl. The river rushed and roared around us, and we could feel the strong nervous quivering of his limbs, as he bore up against it. But occasionally as he went snorting along, he cast back spiteful glances at his riders. I expected mischief, and it came to pass. We felt his hoofs touch the bottom—three leaps—he was up the bank—his heels flew in the air—the arms of the squaw were jerked violently from my neck, and I saw her describing a somerset through the air; she landed upon her feet and received no injury. The Indians raised a shout of laughter, and the horse, satisfied with being relieved from his extra burden, jogged quietly on towards the Republican village. CHAPTER V. _Journey to the Republican Village, and Reception._