I have witnessed from the bluff near the hospital on Medicine Bluff creek their dances in the valley just across the streams at night, many times, but never had any desire to make a closer acquaintance. It always seemed to me a wild kind of a thing, consisting of jumping and gyrating and stooping and gliding and then straightening up suddenly, and swinging the arms, and all the time droning in short jerky cough-like notes, interspersed with sharp penetrating yells. There might be only one performer or maybe a half dozen or more. Where there is a number engaged, it is not only exciting but decidedly wild, certainly unlike any other dance I have ever seen. They were great thieves and anything left outside of our tents which might strike their fancy was liable to be carried off. One day a squaw brought a venison ham to our tent to sell. The regular price was fifty cents and I bought it although we had bought one less than an hour before, and when taking it back to hang up with the first one I thought the squaw looked very much like the one from whom I had made the first purchase, and was not much surprised to find the first ham missing. We usually hung them out for a while to get the Indian odor off them, and I have no doubt that I bought the same ham from the same squaw the second time. There were fixed days each month on which rations were issued to the Indians by the commissary department and I have seen the squaws carry sacks of flour a little distance away from the place of issue and empty out the flour and carry off the sacks, hundreds of them, so that the ground for a considerably distance around would be literally white with flour. They were permitted to go about the camp any where during the day, but at sundown scarcely an Indian was to be seen and none were permitted in camp at night. It was a very comfortable feeling to hear the hours called at night, by those on guard if one should happen to wake up and hear the announcement that "All's well." For instance, the sergeant of the guard announces in a loud enough voice to be heard by the first sentinel, "Two o'clock and all's well." On hearing it the sentinel repeats the message, and so on around the camp, and when the last sentinel has finished, the sergeant of the guard says, "Two o'clock and all's well all around." This is repeated each hour during the night. [Illustration: MEDICINE BLUFF The original of this picture is in our possession, and was taken by Soule, of Boston, when we were stationed at Fort Sill]