"Many of the high-minded and most of the vicious men among the Indians of the Northwest found their leader in Sitting Bull, who, although often unpopular with his fellow-chiefs, was always potent for evil with the wild and restless spirits who believed that war against the whites was, or ought to be, the chief object of their existence. This was about the true status of the Indian agitator in those days. He had strong personal magnetism. His judgment was said to be superior to his courage, and his cunning superior to both. He had not, like Crazy Horse, the reputation of being recklessly brave, but neither was he reputed a dastard. Sitting Bull was simply prudent and would not throw away his life, so long as he had any chance of doing injury to the Americans. "It is true that the wily savage was to all intents and purposes, a British subject, but his influence crossed the line, and no settlers would venture on Milk River until the implacable savage was thoroughly whipped and humbled. I don't care what any one says about Sitting Bull not having been a warrior. If he had not the sword, he had at least the magic sway of a Mohammed over the rude war tribes that engirdled him. Everybody talks of Sitting Bull, and, whether he be a figure-head or an idea or an incomprehensible mystery, his old-time influence was undoubted. His very name was potent. He was the Rhoderick Dhu of his wild and warlike race, and when he fell the Sioux Confederation fell with him. The agitator was then verging on fifty, but hardly looked it. "Mrs. Allen, wife of the post trader, said Sitting Bull was the nicest Indian around the trading-post, always treating her with the most marked consideration, and never intruding upon the privacy of the household, by hanging around at meal time, as some of the others did. In the hostile camp I had several opportunities of studying his face, and I can say honestly that 'Old Sit' has a fine aboriginal countenance, and, once seen, he can never be forgotten. I heard his voice many times--deep guttural, but, at the same time, melodious. He called my friend, Walsh, 'meejure,' his nearest approach to the pronunciation of 'major.' In manner he was dignified but not stiff, and when in good humor, which occurred pretty often, he laughed with the ease of a schoolboy. The traditional idea of white people that Indians never laugh, is but a time-honored absurdity. Among themselves they are often gayly boisterous, and I know of no people who can enjoy what they consider a good joke better.