other rivers in Dakota. One of the teachers from Oahe gives a
racy sketch of a trip among some of the out-stations. We make
room for a large extract, regretting that we have not space for
more.

THE JOURNEY.

We started Thursday morning, going about seven miles above the Mission
to cross the river. We took dinner at the house of a white man who has
an Indian wife, and then started out on the long drive. Our direction
was almost due west, a little south toward the Cheyenne River. We
reached an out-station on the Cheyenne about dark, where James Brown, a
Santee Indian, is stationed. Two of our Santee school-girls are here,
and it was encouraging to see their neat dress, and hear them use their
English, though they so seldom see any one with whom they have occasion
to use it that it is not easy for them. The next morning, the girls had
classes in reading and writing. Some of the children were ragged and
dirty, with faces unwashed, and hair uncombed, one little boy with both
knees coming through his trousers, but their faces were, almost without
exception, bright and intelligent, with the intelligence of childhood,
which would inevitably change to the stolid indifference of ignorance,
were it not for the influence which this Christian household among them
may exert. To be sure, the girls are young and inexperienced, but that
they do their best means a great deal. Two young men were learning to
read the Dakota Bible. Soon after eleven, we were on our way again,
keeping the Cheyenne River in sight. We stopped at one of the villages
on the Cheyenne, where a Frenchman with an Indian wife has built up
quite a little colony, all related to one another. Several of our pupils
come from here, and the mode of life at their home has been modified by
their influence.