There were six dances, at which it was necessary to wear a peculiar costume. The head-dress of the warriors was adorned with plumes, and his girdle, gay with many colors, was thrown gracefully over the left shoulder, tied under the right arm at the waist, and hung in fringes to the knee. The style of beauty of the Indian women is so different from that of the Roman and Grecian, Circassian and Saxon, that at first one would scarcely pronounce any of them beautiful. But, as a people, I am inclined to think them better looking than the Saxon, though there are none among them so beautiful as some among us. Miss Bremer describes one whom she met on the banks of the Mississippi, who might be the type of as large a class among Indian women, as a city belle is, in the throng in which she moves. She says of her—“She was so brilliant, and of such unusual beauty, that she literally seemed to light up the whole room as she entered. Her shoulders were broad and round, and her carriage drooping, as is usual with Indian women, who are early accustomed to carry burdens on their backs; but the beauty of the countenance was so extraordinary, that I cannot but think that if such a face were to be seen in one of the drawing-rooms of the fashionable world, it would there be regarded as the type of a beauty hitherto unknown. It was the wild beauty of the forest, at the same time melancholy and splendid. The bashful glow in those large, magnificent eyes, shaded by unusually long, dark eye-lashes, cannot be described, nor yet the glance, nor the splendid light of the smile, which at times lit up the countenance like a flash, showing the loveliest white teeth. She was quite young, and had been married two years to a brave young warrior, who, I was told, was so fond of her, that he would not allow her to carry burdens, but always got a horse for her when she went to the town. Her name was Feather Cloud.” There is not the variety among Indian beauties that exists among white people. We have all shades, from the lightest blonde to the darkest brunette; but the shade is nearly the same upon every forest maiden’s face. The hair is raven black, the cheeks are full, and the eye like jet. But there is still opportunity for Nature to show her skill; though there may be few so splendidly beautiful as Feather Cloud, there are few who may not be called comely; and I have seen many who might vie with the blondes and brunettes of any drawing-room. CHAPTER V. LOVE, MUSIC, AND POETRY.