learned that his son had distinguished himself in
the fight, and that his name was not mentioned
among the brave dead.

"And where, then, is he?" he asked, with
unconcealed anxiety.

"He left us three days ago to come in ad-
vance," they replied.

"But he has not arrived!" exclaimed old
Wezee, in much agitation.

He returned to his teepee, where he consoled
himself as best he could by smoking the pipe
in solitude. He could neither sing praises nor
indulge in the death dirge, and none came in
either to congratulate or mourn with him.

The sun had disappeared behind the hills,
and the old man still sat gazing into the burn-
ing embers, when he heard a horse's footfall
at the door of his lodge.

"Ho, atay (father)!" came the welcome
call.

"Mechinkshe! mechinkshe!" (my son, my
son), he replied in unrestrained joy. Old We-
zee now stood on the threshold and sang the