Whacks, the famous chief; because 

 Nimrod wanted to know what kind 

 of beasties lived in that region ; and 

 because I wanted a face to face en- 

 counter with the Indian at home. I 

 got it. 



The first duty of a stranger at Raven 

 Agency is to visit the famous battle- 

 field, three miles away ; and the Agent, 

 an army officer, very charmingly made 

 up a horseback party to escort us 

 there. He put me on a rawboned 

 bay who, he said, was a "great goer." 

 It was no merry jest. I was nearly 

 the last to mount and quite the first to 

 go flying down the road. The Great 

 Goer galloped all the way there. His 

 mouth was as hard as nails, and I could 

 not check him; still, the ride was no 

 worse than being tossed in a blanket for 

 half an hour. 



