not to let Silting Bull know their real purpose, but to lead him to suppose they were only going in to the agency on a visit to their friends. "Perfectly satisfied with these arrangements, I returned a little after dark to Sitting Bull's lodge, where the soldier, who could not speak a word of the Indian language, was having a lonesome time, and growing somewhat anxious for my safety. We were both very tired and soon lay down to rest, while I engaged the old chief in conversation. Sitting Bull's family at that time consisted of his two wives (sisters), two daughters and three sons, the eldest being a daughter of seventeen, the other daughter being next, about fourteen, the eldest son, Crow Foot (since dead), seven years old, and the two youngest boys were twins, born about three weeks before the battle of the Little Big Horn, and were, therefore, not more than four and a half years old; one of the twins was named Ih-pe-ya-na-pa-pi, from the fact that his mother 'fled and abandoned him in the tepee,' at the time of the battle. The accompanying cut shows the arrangement of beds, etc., in the lodge, while we were there. "I continued in conversation with the chief until about midnight, when I fell asleep. I must have been asleep less than an hour, when I was awakened by the sharp crack of a rifle ringing out on the still night air, and the simultaneous war-whoop of contending savages. The camp was instantly in a state of the wildest confusion. Indian women, seizing their babies, fled, screaming, they knew not whither, for safety; warriors suddenly awakened from their slumbers, seized their arms and flew with the speed of the wind to the aid of their comrades, who were already engaged in conflict with an enemy, whose presence could only be determined by the sharp report and flashes of fire from their guns, as they fired in the darkness upon the Sioux camp. Here was an opportunity for the soldier and myself to prove our friendship, by aiding the Sioux warriors in their defense of the camp, which we proceeded to do, by seizing our rifles and hastily joining the warriors, who, by this time, had turned the enemy, whose firing soon ceased altogether, and we all returned to the camp, where comparative quiet was restored; but no one slept any more that night. Our muscles were strained and our nervous systems were unstrung." {Illustration: Rain-in-the Face, accredited slayer of Tom Custer.}