dear to the savage heart, rejoicing, even though they marvelled, at the fatuity of a people that annually rewarded instead of punishing their murderous work. They, the heroes of the summer's campaign, rode in triumph through the very homes of their victims, and weeping women and children listened in amaze to the plaudits with which their townspeople greeted the very savages who, not six months before, were hacking out the last flutter of life, drinking the heart's blood, revelling in the dying moan of beloved husband or father. Verily, we're a nation of odd contradictions. And, just as a sojourn in Washington seems to turn many a white brother's head, so did this, though with better reason, send the savage homeward with boastful heart. He and his were welcomed back to the fold, lavishly provided for, all manner of requests and demands hitherto denied now smilingly honored. They came back lords of the soil, monarchs of all they surveyed, scornful of all who were not with them in the warfare of the summer gone by, and of these was the household of Spotted Tail. Long time chief of the Brules, he had kept faith with the whites, his kith and kin were loyal to their obligations, and in so far as example and influence could go they had held their tribe, all but the more turbulent young men, out of the fight. There was a band that for years had never "drawn a bead" on white man,--settler or soldier,--a band that had furnished scouts and runners and trailers and had done yeoman's work upon the reservations. These were now, as was to be expected, of no more consequence in council lodge or tribal dance. Snubbed by the war chiefs, sneered at by the young men, slighted by the maidens, it was bad enough that they should have lost caste among their own people, it was worse, and what made it infinitely worse that it was so utterly characteristic, that these faithful allies and servants should now find themselves neglected by the very government which they had so earnestly supported. Back from the war-path, day after day, came dozens of grinning, hand-shaking warriors lately in rebellion, and to them, their squaws and children, with lavish hand the agency dealt out blankets and calicoes, bacon and beef, coffee, flour, and sugar. Such redoubtables as Red Dog, Little Big Man, Prowling Wolf, and Kills Asleep were swaggering about, as were their young men, in plethora of savage adornment and "store clothes." Their squaws and children were warm and fat and garbed in attractive motley. Even their dogs were in better fettle than the social exiles of the Spotted Tail school, now in rags and dependent for their daily bread on what the agent would give them. Three times it happened on ration days that Red Dog and Kills Asleep, swaggering about the corral, told their followers to pick out and drive away such cattle as were passably fat and presumably tender, leaving to the silent loyals only a miserable batch of beeves which Lieutenant