see, ladies, that an Injun must wear Injuns' clothes or he looks like--well, I came purty near swearing,--but Injun clothes and feathers are all right for Injuns, but ain't worth a damn for white people." The trapper bit a big piece from his plug of tobacco, while he received favorable expressions concerning the history, which he had given and yet-- "Jack was embarrassed--never hero more-- And as he knew not what to say--he swore." Many years after our party camped near Red Buttes, the writer discovered in the second volume of Elliot Coues' notes on _Forty Years a Fur Trader_, a brief description of the visit of Wi-jun-jun to Washington and the gift to him of the general's outfit. The portrait of the warrior-dude is preserved in the Catlin collection. The mild profanity with which the tale was decorated can hardly be omitted without robbing it of its peculiar western flavor. Dan Trippe, who had been listening, finally said, "Mr. Soon, you referred a moment ago to Billy Comstock. Some of us also knew him very well. A few years ago Comstock was well known in Colorado." "He was," replied Tom, "and he helped might'ly in that Sand Creek affair. Of course, we know him as Buffalo Bill." Tom was asked to tell about that fight. "I know all about it," he replied, "but I don't know as it's right to tell the women about these Indian scalpings." Tom was assured that when women were out where things were going on, they were no more nervous than men were. They all had guns and ought to know the true condition of things.