each had killed. After each one had told Pe Re Ashe said, ‘ Heap big 
White Indian beat ’em all.” Then came a hearty Indian laugh, a true 
laugh that all seemed to en.io.v. “He all right” said one full blood. I 
could see BilPs black eyes shine as he would not have taken a twenty 
dollar bill for this incident. He had assured the Indians so faithfully 
that I was absolutely all right that he was glad of an opportunity to 
prove it. 
Each two of us that were paired to hunt together took our ponies 
and started for our game. Bill and I went to where he had killed 
two deer, loaded them on his pony, then went after my two bucks. It 
was all we could do to get them on the pony and all the poor pony 
could do to carry them, so I had to walk and lead him. When we all 
had met at our appointed place some of the Indians had not killed any, 
which permitted me to ride my pony and let them carry some of my 
deer. One Indian said, “Heap Big White Indian killum too much.” 
This brought another hearty laugh. I was now one of them. The bunch 
of us killed eight deer and three wild turkeys. When we arrived the 
game Was turned over to the squaws, which seemed to be the accepted 
custom among the Indians. The bucks did the hunting and the squaws 
did the dressing. 
I was certainly proud to be the winner in this hunting contest. 
Bill and I laid around the village a few days and became ac¬ 
quainted with many of the Indians whose names now I have forgotten. 
But my stay with the Sack and Fox was joyful. I was at the Sack 
and Fox agency where the government had a bunch of soldiers and 
where they issued supplies to the Indians, The Sack and Fox Indians 
were progressive, some of them having small farms and small herds 
of cattle and ponies. They also had fine fruit trees and poultry, 
some hogs and plenty of dogs (bobbed tailed dogs) . 
After about two weeks’ stay with the Sack and Fox Bill and I 
decided to resume our trip, leaving our friends who were making 
us promise a return visit. We rode up the North Canadian about 
45 miles to Tecumsee, a small Indian towm owned principally by the 
Potawatamie Indians. There were a few white men in the town, how¬ 
ever, which consisted mainly of a general store and a place where the 
cowboys would come to spend their money to gamble but not to booze. 
Bill and I stayed over night at the hotel and had our ponies put 
up in a stable as horse thieves were not uncommon in those days.. 
The next day we rode to the Shawnee village which was located in 
the Potawatamie country. Bill had some friends in this village and 
assured me that I would like the Shawnee. He said they were civil¬ 
ized and good Indians. We arrived at this village about noon, dis¬ 
mounted and went in before any of the Indians saw us. They were 
eating dinner as we entered the yard and one of them bawled out: 
“Bill Parrish and a white man.” This brought the entire bunch from 
their seats and out the door they came. “Hello, Bill, where did you 
come from ? 1 ’ All shook hands with Bill, most of them speaking good 
English. Bill said to them as he pointed to me, “This is a white 
Indian, shake hands with him.” This they did with a hearty grip, 
speaking English. This pleased me for I knew from their appearance 
that they were noble Indians and held no grudge against the white 
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