ceal ourselves from the piercing eye of the savages who were roaming in the plains. Toward noon we stopped near a lovely spring to dine and take a moment's rest. As we were congratulating ourselves on not having yet met those redoubtable Blackfeet, all at once a fearful noise was heard on the hill that overlooked the spot where we had halted; a band of Blackfeet, who had been following our tracks in the ravines for several hours, came at us in a gallop. They were armed with guns, bows and arrows, almost naked, and painted in the most outlandish manner. I rose at once and presented my hand to him whom I believed to be the chief of the band; he said coldly, " Why are you hiding in this ravine? " I answered him that we were hungry and that the spring had invited us to take a moment's repose. He looked at me with wonder, and addressing the Canadian, who could speak the Sioux language a little better, said to him, " I have never seen such
a man in my life. Who is he? " My long black robe and the missionary's cross that I bore upon my breast especially excited his curiosity. The Canadian answered him (and under the circumstances he was prodigal of his titles) " It is the man who talks to the Great Spirit. It is
a chief or Black-gown of the Frenchmen." His fierce look at once changed; he ordered his warriors to put away their weapons and they all shook hands with me. I made them a present of a big twist of tobacco, and everybody sat down in a circle and smoked the pipe of peace and friendship. He then besought me to accompany him and to pass the night in his village, which was at no great distance. I followed him, and on coming in sight of the camp, which comprised some hundred lodges, or about I,ooo souls, I stopped a quarter of a mile away in a fair meadow on the bank of a fair river, and there pitched my camp. I had the head chief invited to sup with me. When I said the Benedicite, he asked the Canadian what I was doing. He answered that I was speaking to the Great