questions readily, respecting their laws and religion; but, to insure
good humor, they must first have something to eat. All the scraps of
food collected in the kitchen; cold beef, cold buckwheat cakes; nothing
went amiss, especially as to quantity. Pork is their delight--apples
they are particularly fond of--and, in the absence of fire-water,
molasses and water is a most acceptable beverage. Then they had to smoke
and nod a little before the fire--and by and by I heard all about the
Great Spirit, and Hookah the Giant, and the powers of the Sacred
Medicine. All that is said in this book of their religion, laws, and
sentiments, I learned from themselves, and most of the incidents
occurred precisely as they are represented. Some few have been varied,
but only where it might happily illustrate a peculiar custom or opinion.

Their medicine men, priests, and jugglers, are proverbially the greatest
scamps of the tribe. My dear father must forgive me for reflecting so
harshly on his brother practitioners, and be reconciled when he hears
that they belong to the corps of quacks; for they doubt their own
powers, and are constantly imposing on the credulity of others. On
returning from an evening walk, we met, near the fort, a notable
procession. First came an old medicine man, whose Indian name I cannot
recall; but the children of the garrison called him "Old Sneak"--a most
appropriate appellation, for he always looked as if he had just
committed murder, and was afraid of being found out. On this occasion he
looked particularly in character. What a representative of the learned
faculty! After him, in Indian file, came his wife and children, a most
cadaverous looking set. To use a western phrase, they all looked as if
they were "just dug up." Their appearance was accounted for in the
following ludicrous manner--the story is doubtless substantially true.
There was a quantity of refuse medicine that had been collecting in the
hospital at the fort, and Old Sneak happened to be present at a general