Indians seem to have great pity for the unfortunate few of their tribe who have lost their senses, becoming either insane or foolish. A certain professor belonging to a well-known eastern college had reason to be thankful for this trait not many years ago. He had been gathering plants and insects in one of the desolate regions in the west. He was unarmed, and knew nothing of any Indian language or of the sign language so much used west of the Mississippi. A marauding band of Indians caught sight of him. Wheeling their ponies in his direction, they were down upon him before he had time to do anything more than gather his collection into the boxes and get upon his pony. For some reason they did not offer to hurt him; they, however, were willing to make themselves richer by whatever they could get from him. The professor did not say a word, but handed them his case of roots and plants. At this they stared open-eyed, for it contained nothing that any one could eat. His boxes of insects were next examined. Nothing of use to them was found. His pockets were searched. They were filled with bugs, flies, and flower specimens. Looking him over from head to foot, they all seem to have reached the same conclusion at the same time; with shouts of laughter and mocking bows and grimaces, they gave him back his boxes. They had discovered by all the signs that he was a being who had not a sense left, and they would not harm him. So the learned professor was spared to return to tell the tale. The numerous Indian nations of America are and were as different in their character and conditions as are the civilized people living in America to-day. They had their unions and their divisions of land according to nation, not according to family or person. Many nations seem to have had wise laws. Very strangely, many of the tribes expected the coming of the white man. When the Indian has learned that village life is no disgrace, he may become even greater than the paleface with the talking leaves or printed book. A wise old Indian was once told that white men were beginning to think they had found where the Indian came from; that the place was northern China. “Perhaps the people of northern China came from the Indian race in America,” said the Indian. It was well said. There are many proofs that the mound-builders, the Aztec, and the Indian have made this part of the world their home for ages, when it was unknown and unthought of in the wildest dreams of seamen or of kings. The hunting chase is the great happiness of the Indian. Now the wild buffalo is gone from the plains forever; the red deer, elk, moose, and bear hide away in the northern forests; the Indian’s hope for a long future for his nation is lost. They are no longer braves but squaws, for they must plant corn and watch it. Village life is very tame compared with the wandering life when the tribes moved to some new place almost every moon.