In the
center of the circle stood the council lodge, where
there were gathered together of an afternoon all
the men of years and distinction, some in blank-
ets, some in uniform, and still others clad in
beggarly white man's clothing. But the minds
of all were alike upon the days of their youth
and freedom.
Around the council fire they passed and re-
passed the pipe of peace, and when the big drum
was struck they sang the accompaniment with
sad yet pleasant thoughts of the life that is past.
Between the songs stories of brave deeds and
dangerous exploits were related by the actors in
turn, with as much spirit and zest as if they were
still living in those days.
"Tum, tum, tum," the drum was sounded.
"Oow, oow!" they hooted in a joyous chorus
at the close of each refrain.
"Ho!" exclaimed finally the master of cere-
monies for the evening. "It is Zuyamani's story
of his great ride that we should now hear! It
was not far from this place, upon the Missouri
River, and within the recollection of many of
us that this occurred.
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