When the feast was concluded in Tamenund’s lodge, Reginald desired his men to unpack one of the bales, which he pointed out, and to spread its contents before him; the savages gathered round the coveted and glittering objects with eager but silent astonishment, while he separated the presents which, by the advice of Baptiste, were now distributed among their chiefs; to Tamenund he apportioned a large blanket of scarlet cloth, a silver–mounted pistol, and a basket containing mirrors, beads, and trinkets, for his wives and daughters; to Mahéga, a bridle ornamented with beads, several pounds of tobacco, powder, and lead, a fowling–piece, and a blanket of blue woollen–stuff. The features of the Osage chief relaxed into a grim smile of satisfaction as he received these valuable gifts; and he so far overcame the repulsive sternness of his usual character as to seize Reginald’s hand, and to tell him that he was a great chief, and good to his Indian brothers. The other presents having been distributed among the chiefs and braves, according to their rank, the feast was broken up, and they retired to their respective lodges; Reginald, Baptiste, and M. Perrot being accommodated in that of Tamenund’s himself, and Bearskin, with the rest of the white men’s party, in those lodges which have before been mentioned as being contiguous to that of the old chief. During the first night that he spent in his new quarters, the excitement and novelty of the scene banished sleep from the eyes of Reginald; and, finding himself restless, he arose half an hour before daybreak, to enjoy the early freshness of the morning. Throwing his rifle over his arm, he was about to leave the lodge, when Baptiste touched him, and inquired, in a low voice, if he were prepared with a reply in case of being challenged by any of the scouts around the encampment; with some shame he confessed he had forgotten it; and the guide then instructed him, if he were challenged, to say “_Lenapé n’a ki Netis_,” or “I am Netis, the friend of the Delawares.” Being thus prepared, and carrying with him the few articles requisite for a Prairie toilet, he stepped out into the open air. Close by the opening of the lodge, he saw a tall figure stretched on the grass, enveloped in a buffalo robe, the hairy fell of which was silvered with the heavy night–dew: it was War–Eagle, who rarely slept in lodge or tent, and whose quick eye, though he neither moved nor spoke, discerned his white brother in a moment, although the latter could not recognise his friend.