Hills, Indian mounds, timber-rafts, flat-boats, villages which expect to become cities, we at last reach St. Paul.

Here we are told that the payment of annuities to the Sioux Indians, due them three months ago, is soon to be made at the Upper Agency, on the Yellow Medicine River; and that for it thousands of Dahkotahs have collected from the little brick farm-houses the Government has built for them, from their sycamore-bark villages, and from their far distant huntinggrounds. Long trains of them, with the poles and skin-coverings of their teepees, their furs, medicine-bags, and other portable effects, drawn by dogs or dragged along on a platform of two poles joined in the middle, one end resting on a band across the back of an ox or Indian pony, the other trailing upon the ground.

That we may be there during this payment we re-ship ourselves on a smaller boat, and again plow our journey up the tortuous meanderings of the River Minnesota, "Muddy Waters," until at length we reach Saint Peter.

Two miles below, in an angular bend of the river, stands Traverse des Sioux, where, but four or five years past, the late treaty with the Dahkotahs was compacted, by which they relinquished their lands on these borders and below to the Mississippi. Then it was but an Indian trading-post, now a flourishing town. Thence, for the Upper Agency, let us engage our seats in the weekly stage, or take a two-horse conveyance for ourselves alone and journey on with but necessary stoppages at the "Prairie Hotel," "Traveler's Home," etc. On the road we pass numerous wagons heavily ladened, mainly with flour and other commodities for the annuity Indians-i. e., after the traders have cleared from one to five hundred per cent. on them. Yonder is Fort Ridgely, just across that wooded ravine. From here it appears almost impregnable; but how different on a nearer approach! Another creek, three miles farther on: they call it the "Three-mile Creek." Notice it well, for we may have occasion to come here again.

There are some large army wagons filled with soldiers approaching us from the other side. Let us ask that young lieutenant, with his pants tucked to the knees, in cavalry-boots and lugging his sword across his shoulder, whence they are.

Blandly we are informed that the hordes of Indians lately assembled at the Yellow Medicine Agency, growing impatient from the delay of their annuities, had evinced signs of dissatisfaction, and even threatened violence. For greater security, a company of volunteers stationed at Fort Ridgely had been sent for. On their arrival at the Agency a thousand Indian warriors, mounted on their ponies and several thousand more on foot, all painted, with their war costumes, surrounded them, and declared that if a soldier advanced a step farther-if a gun was raised, or a match applied to a cannon, they would kill and scalp every white man they could lay their hands on. A volley and a charge would undoubtedly have cleared a space immediately around our troops: but they were outnumbered thirty to one; what should they do? Major Galbraith, the Indian Agent, loth to permit such demonstrations to pass unresisted, was urgent to give them at least one volley, or sufficient to disperse them; but the officers thought it useless to attempt to cope with such numbers.

The Indians, seeing our soldiers unmoved, and apparently awaiting an attack, turned their attention to a more easy and less dangerous conquest-the goods and flour in the warehouse. A few blows with tomahawks and hatchets soon shivering the fragile doors, in they went-the braves commencing to open boxes and barrels, while the squaws were adjusting their blankets to bear out the spoils. But before they had progressed far, a line of bristling bayonets being brought to bear upon them, they scattered as if a hornet's nest had been disturbed in their midst.

Major Galbraith, as soon as he could get them sufficiently quieted, addressing them through Antoine Freniere, the interpreter, explained as best he could the reasons of delay; and told

Similar demonstrations had occurred before, and like them this was also supposed wholly to have blown over. There being then no longer any need at the Agency for military support, the company had been ordered to report back at Fort Ridgely.

Some eighteen miles farther and again another ravine, Birch Cooley, portions of it thickly wooded, and closely filled with birch and willow brush and tall reeds; admirably adapted for a camp ground, if easy access to wood and water are the desired requisites; but if security from surprise to the encamped is demanded one of the last places to be chosen. How this was subsequently illustrated we shall see in the course of our narrative.

In due time we again come to the river-the same Minnesota. After crossing a bottom of a couple of miles in width, amidst tall waving reeds and rushes, we arrive at the ferry opposite the Lower Indian Agency. On this side of the river, to our right, by the water's edge, is a comfortable frame house with several stacks of wheat and hay around it, the abode of the ferryman. On the farther side, a little above the crossing, is a mill. Safely over the ferry, we wind up a circuitous path to the level of the

Here we first see the Dahkotah or Sioux Indians at home. Most of those from this vicinity, lately at the Yellow Medicine, have returned to their lodges. The "Bucks" are covered nearly from head to foot with their blankets, white, as but a few days ago they received them, or colored with their pigments in rude representations of heads, skulls, branches of trees, and the like. Their faces are painted, one half perhaps in zigzag stripes, while the other is speckled as if from a recent attack of measles; or in broad belts around their eyes. They have bows and arrows and double-barreled shot-guns, some with two-thirds of their barrels cut off for convenience in carrying under their blankets. They saunter around the stores and boarding-houses in groups, smoking their pipes of kinickinick, while the squaws-not unfrequently-perform all the work except fighting and eating.

Government has expended large sums of money to encourage and assist them in the pursuits of civilization. In addition to the yearly annuities due each member of a lodge, a civilization fund provides them with medical attendance, builds and furnishes a house, and prepares and stocks a farm with necessary implements and cattle for every Indian who will consent to lay aside his blanket, cut his hair, put on the white man's clothes, and work; and besides pays him so much per yard for all the fence he

inhabitants, and those almost without exception employed in trading or in some capacity by the Government, or engaged as missionaries and teachers.

From the very borders of the Reservation the provisions of the Homestead Bill had been tending rapidly to the occupation of all the choicest spots of land on those rich prairies. Little log-huts and frame cottages, made most likely in some other State and transported there in pieces ready to be set up on the spot, were almost continually in sight, increasing in numbers as you approached St. Peter and Traverse des Sioux or Mankato. Corn and wheat fields, though but of recent commencement, were frequent and heavily ladened with their waving harvests, for never had Minnesota been blessed with so abundant a yield as in the fall of 1862. Mills had commenced to turn on the river banks. The inhabitants, mostly German, had come with strong arms and willing hearts to establish a home for themselves and theirs; and no place could be more promising. Through all this district the Indians still roamed at large. Stop where they would they found a welcome to food, drink, and lodgings, until it suited their convenience to depart. The Indians had been wronged, but not by the inhabitants: it had been by the traders. The kindness of the missionaries especially could not have been exceeded; their houses were like Indian hotels. They came and went as if all belonged to them. If hungry, they would demand food; if tired, they would lay themselves down wherever they pleased; and leave without a word or look of thanks.

He

A few years ago a young warrior was arrested for murder, and placed under guard at the Upper or Yellow Medicine Agency. Watching his opportunity, he made his escape, though fired upon and severely wounded. Faint from the loss of blood, he sat down by the roadside at Pa-ju-ta Zeezee, opposite Dr. Williamson's. A crowd soon collected round him. The Doctor with a friend went prepared to see and dress his wound. was but entering the crowd when his friend suddenly screamed, "Look out for that knife!" Instantly turning, he saw behind him a squaw, a large butcher-knife in her hand, in the very act of plunging it into his back, when by friendly hands her arm had been stayed. The Doctor did not stop to inquire into it, but seeing, as he said, "that the danger was over," went on to the young man, examined and bound up his wound. It happened, however, that by imprudent exposure or some such cause the Indian died. It is a custom with them, if one of their tribe is killed, for the nearest of kin to avenge his death, by assassinating, not necessarily the author of it himself, but any one if he be but of the same family or race. The father of this Indian went forth with his gun, and concluding that Dr. Williamson would of all be least apt to make much resistance, selected him as the object of his vengeance. The Doctor was at work behind his house in the garden: the family seeing a suspicious-looking Indian, painted in his war stripes, prowling around behind the fence, apparently trying to get behind the Doctor, became solicitous for him to come in. To satisfy them he went in and sat in a rocking-chair in the front.