“Shon-ka says it,” was the reply, “and Shonka can prove it.” At this the eyes of Mah-to-tchee-ga, which had not yet moved, began steadily to turn, and slow, as if upon pivots, and when they were rolled out of their sockets till they had fixed upon the object of their contempt; his dark and jutting brows were shoving down in trembling contention, with the blazing rays that were actually burning with contempt, the object that was before them. “Why does Shon-ka say it?” “Ask We-chash-a-wa-kon, (the painter,) he can tell you; he knows you are but half a man--he has painted but one half of your face, and knows the other half is good for nothing!” “Let the painter say it, and I will believe it; but when the Dog says it let him prove it.” “Shon-ka has said it, and Shon-ka can prove it; if Mah-to-tchee-ga be a man, and wants to be honored by the white men, let him not be ashamed; but let him do as Shon-ka has done, give the white man a horse, and then let him see the whole of your face without being ashamed.” “When Mah-to-tchee-ga kills a white man and steals his horses, he may be ashamed to look at a white man until he brings him a horse! When Mah-to-tchee-ga waylays and murders an honorable and brave Sioux, because he is a coward and not brave enough to meet him in fair combat, then he may be ashamed to look at a white man till he has given him a horse! Mah-to-tchee-ga can look at any one; and he is now looking at an old woman and a coward!” This repartee, which had lasted for a few minutes, to the amusement and excitement of the chiefs, being thus ended: The Dog suddenly rose from the ground, and wrapping himself in his robe, left the wigwam, considerably agitated, having the laugh of all the chiefs upon him. The Little Bear had followed him with his piercing eyes until he left the door, and then pleasantly and unmoved, resumed his position, where he sat a few minutes longer, until the portrait was completed. He then rose, and in a most graceful and gentlemanly manner, presented to me a very beautiful shirt of buckskin, richly garnished with quills of porcupine, wringed with scalp-locks (honorable memorials) from his enemies’ heads, and painted, with all his battles emblazoned on it. He then left my wigwam, and a few steps brought him to the door of his own, where the Dog intercepted him, and asked, “What meant Mah-to-tchee-ga, by the last words that he spoke to Shon-ka?” “Mah-to-tchee-ga said it, and Shon-ka is not a fool--that is enough.” At this the Dog walked violently to his own lodge; and the Little Bear retreated into his, both knowing from looks and gestures what was about to be the consequence of their altercation.