While the movements were going on in the village, we could hear the neighing of horses, the barking of dogs, and the hum of voices, but now there was a stillness in the deserted village which brought upon us a sense of loneliness that was hard to overcome. We slowly returned to the Mission and ate our noonday meal without speaking. There seemed to be a general depression among the remaining pupils at the school. A silence pervaded all the surroundings which made each boy wish to retire from the other and to be alone. At breakfast, the next morning, there was the same sense of stillness; even the superintendent and the teachers at their table seemed to be homesick, and they passed the dishes to each other in silence. The reading of the Scriptures and the prayer of the superintendent was in a tone that added to the gloominess which had taken possession of our simple little souls. As we were slowly marching out of the dining-room, when the worship was over, the superintendent stopped Brush and said to him: "I want you to go after the mail this morning; go on horse-back so as to get back soon. I have some work for you to do this afternoon. Take Dolly, and use the large saddle; the other one needs mending." "Let's go down to the spring," said Lester to Warren and me. So while Brush went to the barn to saddle up, we three went to the spring and sat under an elm that stood near by. "Say, boys, I 'm going to the hunt!" said Lester, startling us with the sudden announcement; "I heard that two families down at the Wood-eaters' village can't get away for two days yet, and I'm going down there so I can go with them. The Omahas always wait on the Wa-tae (Elkhorn River), for those that are last." "If you're going, I'm going too," spoke up Warren; "I don't want to stay here." "If you two go, I'm going!" I exclaimed. "All right, let's all go then," said Lester, rising. "We must hurry up; some one might see us!" We followed a narrow path that led through a ravine just beyond the spring. We were in the greatest excitement; every little sound aroused within us the fear of detection, and we frequently sought for a hiding place, while we carefully avoided all well-beaten paths. Silently we plodded our way through the bushes until we came to a hill where there were no trees, then we ran as fast as our legs could carry us for another wooded place. We stopped a moment when passing to take a look at the village. Silence prevailed. Not a living thing was astir. Three whirlwinds chased each other along the winding paths between the houses, making funnel-shaped dust clouds as they sped on. "The ghosts have entered the village," said Lester, in our own language, and in a melancholy tone; "they always do that as soon as the living leave their houses!"