188 
fully as a pleasant reminder of my summer among the Sioux. 
Wild plums and grapes are ripe, and the little ‘‘coolies” 
among the hills fairly teem with grouse. The Indians take a 
great many channel catfish from the river, and I am literally 
living on the fat of the land. 
But a few weeks more and I hope to see you in person, when 
I shall be pleased to entertain you with more of my experiences 
in the land of the Dakotas. Until then I am, 
Yours, etc., 
JoserpH WILLIAMS. 
In view of his long familiarity with the cus- 
toms of the Sioux, Rencounter was quick to 
perceive that Professor Joe’s letter, although 
couched partly in a light and lively vein, was 
withal a faithful portrayal of Indian character 
in their every-day life in the wilderness. More- 
over, the pleasant allusions to himself and 
demijohn he accepted with a spirit of careless 
unconcern, inasmuch as they, too, were strictly 
within the bounds of truth. However, he could 
scarcely repress a sly twinkle of amusement on 
recalling certain visits made by Professor Joe 
to his cabin, from which that worthy had retired 
in a state of mental confusion, produced by the 
same magic elixir of which Rencounter was 
purported to be unusually fond. 
It was toward the close of September that 
Professor Joe discovered that the accumulation 
of Indian curiosities, together with his mounted 
specimens, had stocked his tent to its utmost 
capacity, and preparations were accordingly 
made for his return trip to St. Louis. In hourly 
expectation of the boat on which he was to 
embark for home, Professor Joe had one morn- 
ing taken down his tent, which, together with 
its contents, he had conveyed to the river's 
bank. The brief interval of time pending the 
boat’s arrival was employed by Professor Joe 
in sauntering aimlessly among the river groves 
enjoying the superb loveliness of the surround- 
ing landscape. It was a glorious October day, 
and river, wood and hills were steeped in the 
purple haze of Indiansummer. The bilberries 
hung in blushing clusters on the trees, and 
long, blood-red streamers from climbing vines 
were swaying dreamily in the pensive autumn 
air. The train of solitary musings into which 
Professor Joe had fallen while strolling along 
NATURE'S REALM, 
the river was presently disturbed by the loud, 
hoarse whistle of the approaching steamer, the 
huge smokestacks of which he now perceived 
darkly outlined against the bluffs and bearing 
rapidly down the stream. But while hastening 
along in the direction of the landing the foot- 
steps of Professor Joe were stayed for a mo- 
mentary period by the appearance of an appari- 
tion in plumes and paint in the form of Pretty 
Cloud, who had suddenly darted to his side 
from among the branches of a sheltered covert. 
That she was unduly agitated was at once 
apparent to Professor Joe. Fora brief moment 
the dusky maiden stood before him in the path 
with downcast eyes and heaving bosom, while 
two bright tear drops rolled down her painted 
cheeks and splashed upon the folds of the crim- 
son mantle thrown about her shoulders. Just 
then, however, the clatter of approaching pony 
hoofs were heard in close proximity, and with 
a hastily murmured ejaculation in token of 
farewell, Pretty Cloud disappeared like a 
startled fawn among the pines. The next mo- 
ment Whistling Elk, with eager haste, but with 
eyes and ears intent on nothing beyond the 
approaching steamboat, galloped quickly by on 
his way to the landing. The kindly heart of 
Professor Joe was touched at the expression of 
romantic tenderness as betrayed by Pretty 
Cloud, for to him the occurrence was an 
undreamed of revelation. However, the affair 
was for the time forgotten amid the bustle and 
confusion incident to the transferring of his 
owls and eagles, his wolves, wildcats and 
mountain lions and other efcetera on board the 
steamer, the consummation of which the mate, 
with a well-turned expletive selected from an 
inexhaustible vocabulary, avowed had trans- 
formed the craft into a veritable Noah’s Ark. 
Such were the experiences of Professor Joe, 
the taxidermist, at Devil’s Island, as related to 
me by Narcisse Rencounter on the night when 
I shared his hospitality in his little cabin which, 
as the Indian had truthfully observed, was 
hidden like a wolf in a thicket. 

