girl, had coveted the medicine bags, beaded and embroidered in porcupine
quills, in symbols designed by the great "medicine man," her
grandfather. Well did she remember her merited rebuke that such things
were never made for relics. Treasures came in due time to those ready to
receive them.

In great expectancy, she lifted the heavy lid of the cedar chest. "Oh!"
she exclaimed, with a note of disappointment, seeing no beaded Indian
regalia or trinkets. "Why does my grandfather send such a light gift in
a heavy, large box?" She was mystified and much perplexed.

The gift was a fantastic thing, of texture far more delicate than a
spider's filmy web. It was a vision! A picture of an Indian camp, not
painted on canvas nor yet written. It was dream-stuff, suspended in the
thin air, filling the inclosure of the cedar wood container. As she
looked upon it, the picture grew more and more real, exceeding the
proportions of the chest. It was all so illusive a breath might have
blown it away; yet there it was, real as life,--a circular camp of white
cone-shaped tepees, astir with Indian people. The village crier, with
flowing head-dress of eagle plumes, mounted on a prancing white pony,
rode within the arena. Indian men, women and children stopped in groups
and clusters, while bright painted faces peered out of tepee doors, to
listen to the chieftain's crier.

At this point, she, too, heard the full melodious voice. She heard
distinctly the Dakota words he proclaimed to the people. "Be glad!
Rejoice! Look up, and see the new day dawning! Help is near! Hear me,
every one."

She caught the glad tidings and was thrilled with new hope for her