ing far down the valley long before we could distinguish who they were, except with a powerful field-glass. As they came nearer, the sun caught a bit of gaudy scarlet, or touched for a moment one of the feathers in a war-bonnet.
A New York Charity Ball could bring out no more antique heirlooms, nor take more time in preparations than the costumes of Indians prepared for council. The war-bonnets, shields, and necklaces of bear's claws are all handed down from far-away grandfathers, and only aired on grand occasions. Every available bit of metal that could catch the light reflected and shone in the morning sun. The belts were covered with brass nails, shining with many an hour's polishing. They had many weapons, all kept in a brilliant and glistening state. The tomahawk is one of the heirlooms of the collection of arms. It is not like the ones I used to see at Mackinac as a child. It looks more like a large ice-pick. The knife, pistol, and Henry rifle are very modern, and are always kept in the most perfect condition. Mrs. "Lo" is the Venus who prepares Mars for war, and many a long weary hour she spends in polishing the weapon and adorning the warrior.
The Indians with Iron Horse came directly to head-quarters and asked for a council. As many as could get into the general's room entered. There was time, while they were preparing, to send for the ladies, and a few of us were tucked away on the lounge, with injunctions not to move or whisper, for my husband treated these Indians with as much consideration as if they had been crowned heads. The Indians turned a surprised, rather
