continued, towards the eastern horizon, "and his eyes have looked on
many things--can he tell me the name of what he sees yonder--is it a
buffaloe?"

"It looks more like a cloud, peeping above the skirt of the plain with
the sunshine lighting its edges. It is the smoke of the heavens."

"It is a hill of the earth, and on its top are the lodges of Pale-
faces! Let the women of my brother wash their feet among the people of
their own colour."

"The eyes of a Pawnee are good, if he can see a white-skin so far."

The Indian turned slowly towards the speaker, and after a pause of a
moment he sternly demanded--

"Can my brother hunt?"

"Alas! I claim to be no better than a miserable trapper!"

"When the plain is covered with the buffaloes, can he see them?"

"No doubt, no doubt--it is far easier to see than to take a scampering
bull."

"And when the birds are flying from the cold, and the clouds are black
with their feathers, can he see them too?"

"Ay, ay, it is not hard to find a duck, or a goose, when millions are
darkening the heavens."