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[308] a hundred thousand souls, the salvage of mighty nations which have passed away. They have been tamed a little, and thinned off very much. In fact, an Indian fears White “customs,” chiefly because he finds that the first step taken in our civilisation is a step towards his physical ruin and moral death.

Colonel Stevens, an officer with much experience of savage life, tells me he was employed on the Plains, as Government engineer, to build a number of stone houses for the Indian chiefs. These tenements were designed as baits to catch their tribes. In six months all his tenements were gone, sold to the White men for a few kegs of whisky. One big chief, Long Antelope, kept his house, and Stevens rode to see their chief as being a man of higher hope than others of his race. He found Long Antelope smoking in a tent pitched near the window of his house.

“Why living in a tent, Long Antelope, when you have a good house?”

Long Antelope smiled. “ House good for pony, no good for warrior-ugh!”

Stevens went in, and found Long Antelopes pony stalled in the dining-room.

“ A house,” says Stevens, “is too much for a full ”

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