I saw two white-haired old women outside the tepee having a dance of their own. They were in mourning and debarred from the ceremony; but they could not resist the spell of the Dog Dance. They were surrounded by a group of children and young people, who urged them on with barks and howls. For the Buffalo Dance, Mad Wolf took a string of buffalo hoofs from the bundle and handed them to his wife. She and Catches-Two-Horses arose to dance, wearing headdresses with buffalo horns. The Indians took great interest in this dance, because it represented the mating of buffalo, by women who chose their men. The two women knelt beside the Beaver Bundle with heads lowered. They represented buffalo cows. First they made motions of hooking the ground and digging wallows; then they stood up and pawed the ground and bellowed. They simulated buffalo throwing dirt and catching it on their backs, shaking themselves and throwing dust into the air. Then they danced with the string of hoofs, imitating the capers of mating buffaloes. Gives-to-the-Sun went round the tepee until she came to White Calf, and threw the string of hoofs near him. He arose and joined her in the dance, following her round the fire, like a bull after a cow. Amid shouts of laughter, he threw the hoofs to Strikes-on-Both-Sides, daughter of Mad Wolf. She danced gracefully round the tepee and threw the string of hoofs to me. She danced in front of me with quick steps, swaying her body in time with the singing and the beating of rattles. I heard much shouting and laughter and cheering. Some of the Indians called my name. They said: “White Weasel, you are a chief now; you must join her in the dance.” So I took the hoofs and followed my Indian sister round the fire. I danced like the others, swaying my body, holding my feet together, twisting and turning and bending my knees. There were shrill cries from both men and women. They shouted: “Good boy! White Weasel, you are a chief now.” We stopped at intervals to bellow and imitate buffalo movements, digging wallows, kicking, pawing the ground, and throwing dust into the air. When my Indian sister stopped dancing, I completed the circle and threw the hoofs to the wife of Bear Child. By this time the sun had set and the Indians prepared to go home. Horses were brought in, and the dancers changed their decorated clothes and moccasins for those of everyday use. Before they left, all joined in a feast of service-berry stew. The men were served first, but few of them ate their full portion. They called out the names of women and gave the remainder to them. I sent mine to the wife of Morning Plume, who had many children to feed. My friend Rattler, a kind-hearted old doctor, gave his share to his wife, before he partook of any food himself. Then he drew her aside from the crowd, and laying both hands upon her, he gave her his power to heal, because she was going to doctor a sick child.