[Footnote 11: Wakeen-stone. The Sioux choose stones as objects of worship. We find them frequently on their thoroughfares; they never pass these without stopping to smoke, or to make some slight offering, such as tobacco, a feather, an arrow, or a trinket.] [Footnote 12: Young persons taken prisoners in battle are often adopted, in the place of some lost relative. They are then treated with the kindness usually shown towards a dear and valued friend.] [Footnote 13: The Sioux believe in the duality of the soul,--one going to the land of spirits, while one hovers round the grave, requiring nourishment. Some few of their wise people believe that each body claims more than two souls, assigning an occupation for each; but this is not the prevailing opinion.] [Footnote 14: In a Sioux village there are different clans, known by the peculiar medicine that each uses, each clan claiming superior power, resting in a spell, which the medicine man or woman can throw upon those of the opposite party.] [Illustration: C. Schuessele del. Drawn by Cap^{t.} S. Eastman. Chromolith of P. S. Duval Ph. THE LAUGHING WATERS, Three miles below The Falls of S^{t.} Anthony.] THE LAUGHING WATERS. BY MRS. MARY EASTMAN. A few miles from the Falls of St. Anthony are The Little Falls, or, as the Sioux call them, The Laughing Waters. Do you know where the waters laugh? Have you seen where they playfully fall? Hid from the sun by the forest trees green, (Though its rays do pierce the vines between,) Dancing with joy, till, night-like, a screen Comes down from the heavens at the whippoorwill's call. Come with me, then, we will tread On a carpet of long grass and flowers. The wild lady's slipper we'll pluck as it droops, We will watch the proud eagle, as from heaven she stoops, A seat we will take by the dark leafy nooks, Where a fairy might while away summer's bright hours. From on high, the gay waters come! At first, how they lazily creep O'er embedded rocks, while agates so bright Here and there greet the sun, by noonday's strong light, And again dimly glance when stars come at night, To watch where the Father of Waters' waves sleep. How mildly they laugh as they haste! Now they near the spot where they will spring, Lightly clearing the distance to the pebbles below, Where, tired with the effort, more calmly they flow, While the glistening spray, and the foam white as snow, Their light o'er the rocks and the dancing waves fling.