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PROFESSOR JOE—A STORY OF THE SIOUX. 
By SAMUEL PARKER. 
(Concluded from the April Number. ] 
The stranger who had so suddenly put in ap- 
pearance at the Sioux camp was Joseph Wil- 
liams, a native of St. Louis, an accomplished 
taxidermist with a roving disposition inherited 
from his father, whose life had been passed in 
the wilderness of the upper Missouri as a fur 
buyer and by whom the son had been tutored 
in the Sioux language. While yet a boy at 
school young Joseph’s imagination had been 
fired by the romantic stories of the wilderness 
as related by his father, and this, his first expe- 
dition, was for the double purpose of preparing 
and mounting specimens of birds and animals 
and collecting a supply of Indian relics for a 
college museum at St. Louis. 
Being fluent in the Sioux language it required 
but a few moments to explain to the Indians 
the object of his mission. 
“My friends,” he said, ‘(I am going to re- 
main here by your camp until the leaves on the 
island timber have turned to red and yellow. 
You have bows and arrows and can shoot; I 
want some snowy owls, some eagles and peli- 
cans, and the heads and antlers of deer, elk and 
antelope. I have many beads, looking-glasses, 
brass tacks, tobacco and paints, which I will 
trade with you, and I will buy pipes, war clubs, 
tomahawks and moccasins.” As an evidence 
of good faith the stranger then distributed 
gratuitously a liberal quantity of presents 
among the assembled Indians, the warriors ac- 
cepting with many friendly ‘“ how kuh-lah’s ” 
the packages of ochre and Chinese vermilion 
handed out by the generous white man. The 
women and girls likewise went into raptures 
over the tiny vials ot perfume, little moon- 
shaped mirrors and colored beads, while a 
lusty clashing of jaws by troops of wild-eyed 
boys and cunning little girls afforded ample 
testimony to the fact that among this portion of 
the population spruce gum was largely in the 
ascendant. The day following his arrival the 
stranger's tent, a large square structure, 
loomed white against the background of cedars 
in a pleasant glade not far distant from the 
Sioux camp. The warriors brought toma- 
hawks, war clubs and bows, many of which 
had seen service in the ill-fated battle of the 
Little Big Horn. The chattering squaws like- 
wise poured upon the counter such an ava- 
Janche of decorated pipe-holders, knife-scab- 
bards, moccasins and dolls gay with paint and 
feathers as warranted an oversupply sufficient 
for private speculation. Late one smoky even- 
ing a band of hunters returned from the vicin- 
ity of the Painted Woods, bringing a few travois 
loads of elk and antelope, deer and feathered 
specimens innumerable. A _ beautiful swan, 
while oaring itself majestically among the reeds 
and lilies of a prairie lake, had met an untimely 
fate at the hands of Whistling Elk, who, al- 
though somewhat languid in his movements 
since his famous éncounter with ma-to, had ac- 
companied the expedition. The days passed 
along and summer waned apace leaving ‘“ Pro- 
fessor Joe"—for so the woodmen on the island, 
in view of his skill in mounting specimens, had 
come to style him—still happy and contented 
in his canvas dwelling among the trees. Born 
and reared amid the turmoil of the crowded 
city, the strange, wild beauty of the primeval 
wilderness thrilled him with an enthusiasm 
irresistible and grand; while the Sioux with 
their plumes and moccasins appeared to him 
like ornamental figures designed by Nature for 
the special embellishment of the green forests 
and rocky, haze-dimmed hills, among which for 
thousands of moons they had lived, loved and 
roamed. During the warm voluptuous nights 
of June every vagrant wind that stirred among 
the tasseled cedars or softly flapped the curtains 
of his tent was heavy with the fragrance from 
an ocean of roses blooming in wild luxuriance 
in the bottom lands, where the midnight fiutes 
of the arctic tohees accorded sweetly with the 
tuneful wash of the mighty Missouri. Mean- 
while, however, the interior of Professor Joe's 
tent had undergone a transformation extremely 
bizarre. Ingeniously disposed on shelves or 
perches of cedar limbs, an array of owls and 
