up to eat. He found the meat tender and savory despite the lack of salt. Suddenly become a fatalist, he decided he would die on a full stomach, and quickly devoured a large quantity. He was allowed to drink, then was thrown and pegged out.
While sitting up he had gained a glimpse of the camp and saw it was a large one. The leather tents were uniform in size and pattern. Directly behind him, and so near he could almost touch it with his outstretched hand, was an unusually large lodge, oblong in shape.
Night came abruptly to the pocket. Numerous small fires were lighted. Lander was watching the silhouettes pass between him and the fires when he was startled to hear a voice near his head sigh, "Alas, m'sieur!"
"Papa Clair!" he softly ejaculated.
"Baptiste Gardepied—talk French?"
Lander eagerly asked in French, "What will they do with me, M'sieu Gardepied?"
"To-morrow. It will be very sad and cruel. May the Old Man give you strength."
"But you are not an Indian. What do you do here? Where are you?"
"I am in the big medicine-lodge. My mother
