89 



CHAPTER X. 



Tahtunga-egoniska. — High gaming.— Weur-sena WarkpoUo, a strange story.— 

 Tlie Death Song, a tale of love. — 3Iedicme-men. — Extraordinary performance of 

 Tahtunga-mobellu. — Wonderful feats of jugglery. 



Among our daily visitors was Tahtunga-egoniska, a head chief of the 

 Brule village. 



Years had bleached his locks with their taming frosts and taught him 

 self-government. Well disposed as a man, he never became a participant 

 in those disgusting scenes of intoxication that almost continually transpir- 

 ed around us. He was a mere looker on — a morahzer ; and, as he witness- 

 ed the blameworthy conduct of his people, an ill-suppressed sigh was fre- 

 quently audible, and the inward workings of regret were plainly defined 

 upon his countenance. Melancholy too had left her traces upon him, and, 

 as he sat day by day in gloomy silence, he seemed the very impersonation 

 of grief. 



VVhenever the throng dispersed for a few moments, he would improve 

 the opportunity for conversation with us ; for in the benevolence of his heart 

 he loved the whites, and was greatly pained at the injuries and injustice it 

 was so often their lot to endure. 



But he had a story of his own to tell ; it w^as a tale of affliction — a stab 

 at the best feelings of a father's heart ! And, by whom ? By the very 

 whites he loved ! Aye, by the very men whose business it was to degrade 

 his people and ruin them by the contaminating effects of an unhallowed 

 intercourse ! 



Six months had scarcely yet passed since the old chief had been called to 

 mourn his youthful hope, and the pride and joy of his declining years — his 

 first-born son ! And that son had fallen by the hand of the white man ! 



Still, the sorrow-stricken father harbored no thought of revenge ; he 

 sought nothing for himself save the locks of that son, that he might hang 

 them within his lodge, and gaze upon them and weep ! 



His simple tale was so touching in its nature it served to enlist the deep 

 sympathies of our hearts. We began to regard him with much deference, 

 and felt quite at home in his company. He would frequently entertain us 

 with his anecdotes as occasions suggested, and at such times he invaria- 

 bly proved both agreeable and communicative. 



The history of his own life, too, was far from uninteresting. He was 

 the only one of the Brule chiefs, then living, who had signed the first 

 treaty with the whites, since which he had ever observed its stipulations 

 with scrupulous exactness, and still carefully retained a silver medal be- 

 stowed upon him by the Government agent at that time. 



Some of his stories were garbed with a strange romance, and though 

 they may appear foreign to truth in many respects, I cannot resist the 

 temptation of presenting a few of them to the reader. 



