Red Cloud is regarded as the head chief of the Sioux nation, and for over twenty years has been thus venerated. He is fifty-three years old, and claims to have fought in eighty-seven battles, often wounded, but never badly hurt. Red Cloud is about six feet six inches in his stockings (I mean moccasins), large features, high cheek bones, and a big mouth, and walks knock-kneed, as others do. His face is painted, and his ears pierced for gaudy rings, which men and women have an equal pride for. His and other chiefs' robes were beautifully worked with hair, beads, and jewels. His leggins were red, handsomely worked with beads and horse-hair and ribbons, and his moccasins were fit for a prince to wear. He has encountered the Utes, Pawnees, Snakes, Blackfeet, Crows, and Omahas. Thirty-three years ago, while he was the youngest of the braves, he engaged with a party of one hundred and twenty-five warriors of his tribe, and only twenty-five escaped alive. Twice was he wounded, and so distinguished by his daring that he was made a chief for his skill in fighting. Then he rose in rank to the highest station, and he holds it to-day. His people regard him as one of the greatest warriors on the plains, being skilled with the tomahawk, rifle, and bow and arrow, and in councils of chiefs, his wonderful sagacity and eloquence have stamped him, in the eyes of all Indians, as worthy of veneration and implicit obedience. As I had missed the party on their way to Washington by a few hours' tarrying on the "Chug," and General Smith had taken a short cut across to Pine Bluff Station, seventy-three miles below Cheyenne, to avoid a conflict anticipated about Richaud, I will give an account gleaned from others, of this expedition, which it is hoped may result in lasting peace. The "outfit" assembled in front of General Flint's house, on their arrival at Fort Laramie, and got up a regular war-dance to amuse the general's family and others there. This chief, Red Cloud, whose fame had extended hardly east of the Missouri River, has now spread over the world; and from his wigwam and hunting-grounds, he is heard of across the Atlantic as a great man of destiny. He has passed through Omaha and Chicago to Washington in his war-paint, ornamented with eagle's feathers, buffalo-skins, horse-hair, bears' claws, and trophies of his skill, which he values more highly than a brigadier the stars upon his shoulders! Along with him were nineteen of his braves and four squaws, which is a small number, considering that the Indian is a Mormon in the matter of polygamy. The Indian _buys_ his wife (or wives) by giving a pony for the prize; and when Mother Bickerdyck, the army-nurse, saw "Friday" in Kansas, and upbraided him with having _two_ squaws, he said, "Well, give me one white squaw, and I'll be content; you know one white squaw is equal to two Indian squaws!"