SOCIAL LIFE. 309 



at the rising of the sun, the change of season, the flash 

 of lightning, or the roll of thunder. They accept them 

 as facts, without explanation, and, though beyond their 

 comprehension, without surprise. One shows surprise at 

 something out of the ordinary line of his experience. It 

 is an act of comparison. 



The Indian has actual and common experience of 

 many articles of civilised manufacture, the simplest of 

 which is as entirely beyond his comprehension as the 

 most complicated. He would be a simple exclamation 

 point did he show surprise at everything new to him, or 

 which he does not understand. He goes to the other 

 extreme, and rarely shows or feels surprise at anything. 

 He visits the States, looks unmoved at the steamboat and 

 locomotive. People call it stoicism. They forget that to 

 his ignorance the production of a glass bottle is as in- 

 scrutable as the sound of the thunder. A piece of gaudy 

 calico is a marvel ; a common mirror, a miracle. He 

 knows nothing of the comparative difficulties of invention 

 and manufacture, and to him the mechanism of a loco- 

 motive is not in any way more matter of surprise than 

 that of the wheelbarrow. 



When things in their own daily experience are per- 

 formed in what to them is a remarkable way they do 

 express the most profound astonishment. I have seen 

 several hundreds of Indians, eager and excited, following 

 from one telegraph pole to another a repairer, whose legs 

 were encased in climbing boots. Where he walked 

 easily, foot over foot, up the pole their surprise and de- 

 light found vent in the most vociferous expressions of 

 applause and admiration. A white lady mounted on a 

 side-saddle, in what to the Indian woman would be 

 almost an impossible position, would excite more surprise 

 and admiration than would a Howe's printing press in 

 full operation. 



Twenty years ago, when Indians knew comparatively 

 little of the wonders of civilisation, Lieutenant (now 



