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dumb. That was audibly certain. When I offered to purchase his wa-xo-be he loudly bewailed the fact that the Peyote people were killing the ancient rites and bringing about the disintegration of the tribal organization. In these rites, he said, we came into close touch with Wa-Kon'-da. He revealed himself to us in dreams and in visions and gave us comfort. The Peyote create a rainbow in the fire and that is all there is in this so-called new religion. There is no teaching in it as there is in the old rituals. What other strange customs are these pantalooned individuals going to bring upon us? Our young women are led astray. Strange notions are put into their heads, they defy parental authority and the virtue that makes a woman a desirable companion ceases to be in them. In all this tirade he did not forget his manners and addressed me as son. He spoke to me in the most respectful manner but he bitterly reproached the Peyote people. Our conversation must have been enjoyed by the neighbors. This man must be close to a hundred years old but he is a lively old chap. He wears his hair roached, wears a small fur cap without a top and ornamented with rosettes all around, and a tail at the back. Wears a calico shirt, a blanket of many colors wrapped around his body and tied around the waist, a pair of leggings made of red cloth, a pair of deer skin moccasins. He wears a sleighbell fastened to one knee and its tinkle makes one feel as though there were sheep around. His face is painted vermillion red across the eyes, this red band takes in the ears. His smile is mirthful and his ha! ha! truly interprets his appreciation of fun. There is an oddity in the make-up of his costume and