At the agency there were great log buildings, in which we fortified ourselves. I sent a courier to Fort Ridgely for reenforcements. The commanding-officer sent us the old Sherman Buena Vista Battery, which assisted us in letting go and getting out. The Indian we killed turned out to be the eldest son of Ink-pa-du-ta, who was one of the head devils in the Spirit lake massacre. He had ventured in to see his sweetheart, and was the only one of the gang that was present when we made our attack. The question has often been asked, why the government allowed the massacre to go unpunished. Colonel Alexander of the Tenth and I had a plan by which we would have destroyed Ink-pa-du-ta and his band without a doubt, but just at the moment of putting it into execution an order came for all the companies of the Tenth at Ridgely to leave at once for Fort Bridger, in Utah, to join the expedition under General Albert Sydney Johnson, against the Mormons, and that was the end of it. Our raid was about as foolhardy and reckless a one as ever was undertaken, and our escape can only be credited to providence or good luck. MUSCULAR LEGISLATION. My attention was once arrested by a short editorial, under the caption of "Gold Lace Lawmaking," which recalled an amusing incident in my experience that occurred in 1856. The editorial said: "When the lawmakers of the province of Manitoba met at Winnipeg, the occasion was something to impress the voter. The Royal Canadian Dragoons paraded, and the Thirteenth field battery roared a salute. Mark the contrast. On one side of the line, ceremony, gold lace and honor. On the other, nothing but a few clean collars and a camp-fire of the bobby." It is not my intention to discuss the question of which is the better method, but to relate an incident which will cast some light on the views people of the two sections take of legislative etiquette and ceremony, and the slight effect such ideas have on the practical subject of legislation and the conduct of the legislators.