and old men, shook all the veins which bind and support me. I rose, tomahawk in hand, and I have done all the hurt to the whites that I could. Today thou art amongst us, and in thy presence my arms stretch to the ground as if dead. I will listen to thy good words, and as bad as I have been to the whites, just as good am I ready to become toward them."
The chiefs and Father De Smet then conferred about the great council which it was proposed to hold on the morrow to determine what should be done about going to see the commissioners. The rest of the day until late at night was spent in visits and conversations with the leading men of the camp. Here occurred one of those striking incidents with which Father De Smet's intercourse with the Indians was so full. We give it in the Father's own words: "A venerable old man, of remarkable stature, but bowed beneath the weight of age, supporting himself on a staff tipped with an old bayonet, came to offer me his hand and express his happiness at seeing me again. He wore upon his breast a copper cross, old and worn. This was the only religious token that I had observed in all the camp; it filled me with joy and emotion. I questioned him eagerly and with interest, to know from whom he had received it. After a moment's thought, and counting on his fingers, he answered, ` It was you, Blackrobe, who gave me this cross. I have never laid it aside for twenty-six snows. The cross has raised me to the clouds among my people' (meaning that it had made him great and respectable). ` If I still walk on earth, it is to the cross that I owe it, and the Great Spirit has blessed my numerous family.'
"I begged him to explain further, and he continued: `When I was younger, I loved whiskey to madness, and at every chance I would get drunk and commit excesses. It is now twenty-six snows since my last turbulent orgy. I was stupid and sick from it; just then I had the good fortune to meet you, and you made known to me that my