such progress that we expected to reach Fort Consolation by ten o'clock
that forenoon. Quickly we loaded the canoes again, and away we
paddled. In a few hours the beautiful expanse of God's Lake appeared
before us. When we sighted the old fort, a joyous shout rang out;
paddles were waved overhead, and tears of joy rose to the eyes of the
women--and of some of the men.

Going ashore, we quickly made our toilets, donning our very finest in
order to make a good appearance on our arrival at the Fort--as is the
custom of the Northland. Bear's grease was employed with lavish
profusion, even Oo-koo-hoo and Amik and the boys using it on their
hair; while the women and girls greased and wove their tresses into a
single elongated braid which hung down behind. The men put on their
fancy silk-worked moccasins; tied silk handkerchiefs about their
necks--the reverse of cow-boy fashion--and beaded garters around their
legs; while the women placed many brass rings upon their fingers,
bright plaid shawls about their shoulders, gay silk handkerchiefs over
their heads, and beaded leggings upon their legs. How I regretted I
had not brought along my top-hat--that idiotic symbol of
civilization--for if I could have worn it on that occasion, the Indians
at Fort Consolation would have been so filled with merriment that they
would have in all probability remembered me for many a year as the one
white man with a sense of humour.

For in truth, it is just as Ohiyesa (Charles A. Eastman) the
full-blooded Sioux, says in his book on Indian Boyhood: "There is
scarcely anything so exasperating to me as the idea that the natives of
this country have no sense of humour and no faculty for mirth. This
phase of their character is well understood by those whose fortune or
misfortune it has been to live among them day in and day out at their