It was an ordinary open
well, forty or fifty feet deep, near a neighboring house, but a
word spoken above it came back repeated a score of times. We
failed to account for it.
The next forenoon we jogged along much the same as usual and
stopped for noon at Rushville. This was not far from the Pine
Ridge Indian Agency and the place called Wounded Knee, where the
battle with the Sioux was fought three or four years later. We
saw a number of Indians here, and though they came up to Ollie's
idea of what an Indian should be a little better than the one
that rode with us, they still did not seem to be just the thing.
[Illustration: A Study in Red Men]
"I don't think," he said, "that they ought to smoke
cigarettes."
"It does look like rather small business for an Indian,
doesn't it?" answered Jack. "But then smoking cigarettes is small
business for anybody. What's your idea of what an Indian ought to
smoke?"
"Well, I'm not sure he ought to smoke anything, except of
coarse the peace-pipe occasionally. And he oughtn't to smoke that
very much, because an Indian shouldn't make peace very often.
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