IN the missionary district allotted to me as bishop, comprising the whole of Wyoming and Idaho, there were several Indian reservations. In Wyoming there was the Wind River Reservation, ceded by solemn contract to the Indians by our government nearly forty years ago. The reservation included within its area a large body of land in the valley of the Wind River in central Wyoming, extending about one hundred miles north and south and an equal distance east and west, or ten thousand square miles altogether, making a total of over six millions of acres. Parts of two tribes were located on this magnificent domain--namely, the Shoshones, to whom was assigned the northern, and the Arapahoes, who occupied the southern half. As these tribes had been to a certain extent hereditary foes, some apprehension was felt lest their close proximity might lead to a renewal of hostilities. But it is a pleasant duty to record that, on the whole, their relations have been friendly, although each has steadfastly maintained its tribal exclusiveness and has as little dealings one with the other as possible.
No Arapahoe maiden would think of wedding a Shoshone youth, or vice versa. It goes without saying that each tribe is proudly conscious of its vast superiority to the other, and is wont to regard its neighbor with ill-disguised contempt.
Both can justly boast of a history replete with heroic achievements and martial deeds. Both have given birth to noted chieftains whose valor still inspires them. Few Indian warriors have been more worthy of admiration and won their leadership by greater inherent power and genius than Black Coal, of the Arapahoes, or the venerable Washakie, of the Shoshones.
In physical form and feature the contrast between the two tribes is quite marked, so that even a casual observer soon learns to discriminate the one from the other. The Arapahoe is uniformly taller, with a face rather more open and intelligent than the Shoshone; while the latter is more stolid, and in countenance suggests the cunning and rather secretive traits, combined with courage, for which he is famous.
The religious care of these two tribes was committed by General Grant to the Episcopal Church when he parcelled out the various reservations among the churches during his administration. While this distribution on the part of the President was intended to be fair, and aimed to provide for the spiritual interests of the Indians, it did not give permanent and exclusive control to any religious body. Hence, as time advanced, the Roman Catholics have been led to establish a mission and school among the Arapahoes which has accomplished excellent results.
During my episcopate in the West it was my privilege to erect a large school building for the education of Indian girls. The money to secure this result was given in response to my appeals to Christian friends of the Indian in the East.
When at last the success of the enterprise had been assured, a day was appointed for the laying of the corner-stone. The Indians naturally felt very grateful to me for my interest in the education of their children, and proposed to celebrate the cornerstone-laying by giving me a feast. The two chiefs, Washakie and Black Coal, therefore waited on the Indian agent and laid the matter before him. They told him that the big chief of the White Robes (referring to me) had secured funds wherewith to build them a school for their children and their childrens' children; and that he was coming on a certain Saturday to lay the corner-stone; that they proposed to give the bishop a banquet in recognition of his kindness, and that they had come to him to ask him for the oxen for the bishop's feast. Cattle on the reservation belonging to the government could only be killed by the agent's consent.
"How many oxen do you wish to kill for the bishop?" the agent inquired.
"Three," said the chiefs. "The bishop heap big man. He heap eat."
"Very well," said the agent, "you may kill three oxen for the bishop."
The feast itself was a memorable affair. Both tribes were largely represented. Of course, I had to make a speech. But as I could not speak a word of Arapahoe or of Shoshone, and my audience could not understand English, I had to have two interpreters, one for each tribe. The Rev. John Roberts, my faithful missionary, suggested to me that it would be well if I should write out my speech in full. He also tried to impress upon my mind the necessity of using the very simplest language and of being exceedingly brief. I therefore sat down and expressed as plainly as I could on paper my pleasure in being present on such an auspicious occasion, and hoped that the proposed school building would prove a great blessing to their children, and that the parents would see to it that all their little ones secured a good education. I also reminded them that religion and the love of God would be taught there so that their girls would become good and useful wives and mothers.
After I had finished, the clergyman, with great hesitation and modesty, asked if he could read what I had written. I shall never forget the look of hopeless despair that spread over his countenance as he proceeded. At last he said:
"Bishop, will you pardon my presumption if I say that this will never do? The sentiments are all right, but the interpreters know but little English, and they will never be able to understand your language."
I begged him to run his pencil through the manuscript, and simplify and change it as he thought best. When he handed it back to me I felt like a school-boy whose first composition had been corrected by the teacher. Even with all his care I had a difficult time of it. It was possible to utter a few words only at a time and then pause; when first the Arapahoe interpreter struggled with it, and as soon as the meaning had fully dawned upon his intelligence, he would turn around and translate it to his people. Then I had to repeat slowly the same simple words to the Shoshone interpreter, who would go through a similar performance, and the aid of the missionary would frequently be necessary to illuminate the meaning. I was most grateful that my speech was no longer, for it seemed an interminable length of time before I got through. But the loud grunts and exclamations of approval with which they punctuated my sentences as I proceeded gave me no little encouragement.
At the close of the function the big chiefs came up and extended their hands to thank me for all that had been done.
The mention of this school leads me to say that the government has made and is making most liberal provision for the education of the red-man.
On nearly all the reservations large and well-equipped stone or brick school-houses have been erected, and the law of compulsory education, strictly enforced, brings the elements of a good common-school education within the reach of all. In many instances boarding and day schools are conducted by the various religious bodies, thus supplementing the excellent work of the government schools and imparting to the young a knowledge of Christian truth.
Moreover, it is frequently the aim of these schools to teach not only the text-books usually pursued, but also to impart much useful technical knowledge. The boys are made familiar with the use of tools and taken through a course of manual-training, and also taught the scientific principles of farming. The girls are instructed, under kind and competent teachers, to cut out and make garments, to make lace, to cook and wash, and to be neat and orderly in their habits. Indeed, with both sexes the object constantly aimed at is to send forth the young from the' schools fitted and equipped to support themselves, and to take their places in American life and civilization as useful members of society.
So far as the education of the young is concerned, I do not hesitate to say that no criticism can justly lie against the United States government as to its attitude towards that important question. When one considers how excellent the schools are, and how wise and generous the provisions of the State for the education of the children, he is led to wonder at the very slow progress the Indian has made for the last fifty years along the path of independence and self-support.
Why, then, has not the red-man advanced more rapidly?
In answering this question I do not hesitate to say that the reservation system adopted by our government is largely responsible for the fact that the Indian has practically stood still--retaining his savage habits and customs and acquiring little knowledge to aid him in the struggle of life. Indeed, by this system he has been kept in ignorance of the problem of self-support. It ought to have been apparent to our government that any race, overpowered by a stronger and more intelligent race, constantly driven to sections more and more isolated, their means of subsistence destroyed and the inferior race finally disarmed and fenced in, and kept apart by themselves, where in order to live they must be fed and clothed and cared for like so many prisoners or slaves, must inevitably remain in statu quo. That has been the policy of our government. We have said to the red-man: "You are not fit for citizenship and the responsibilities of civilized life. You are a lot of treacherous and dangerous savages, and we propose to keep you from harming us by driving you as far as we can from the haunts of decent men, and then penning you in by yourselves and keeping you there. If you leave your reservation we shall drive you back at the point of the bayonet. We shall not allow the white man to come near you or disturb you, and you shall have no contact with him. To keep you quiet, we will clothe you and feed you at no cost whatever to yourselves. To eat and sleep and stay within your pens is all we ask of you."
To our national shame, it must be said that we have frequently broken faith with these poor people, and demoralizing and wretched as was our contract with them, we have not always kept it. Again and again as the tide of population has gone westward the Indian reservation has been surrounded by the farms and villages of the white man, and the government has yielded to the greed and rapacity of our people, and has said to the red-man: "These lands of yours are very valuable, and we need them for our own people. You must move farther west. We shall give you a new reservation, and you must sell this one. The money shall be yours, and with it we shall build you schools and supply you with farming implements." And so the guileless and untutored ward of Uncle Sam has pulled up stakes and moved on, realizing that to resist would be utterly unavailing. And so it has happened that the. American Indian has been transformed from a savage brave and fearless and free, full of adventure and rejoicing in his wild and nomadic life, to a savage broken in spirit, cringing before the white man whom he has been taught to hate and distrust, every motive and means of improvement deliberately taken from him. Can we blame him for not learning our ways when by our own act we segregate him completely from us and keep him where he has no chance even of observing how the white man lives?
Granted that in the earlier years of our contact with the Indian it was for a time necessary to keep him thus separate to save him from extermination, surely no one will now claim that it was either necessary, or wise, or statesmanlike to perpetuate such a system anywhere, one day longer than the best interests of the Indian justified. No people on the face of the earth so treated could help being demoralized and losing their self-respect. The wonder is that after so many decades of such treatment on our part they are not hopelessly ruined.
The late Bishop Whipple, of Minnesota, who gave much of his life during the earlier years of his episcopate to the Indian cause, said: "I submit to every man the question, whether the time has not come for a nation to hear the cry of wrong, if not for the sake of the heathen, then for the sake of the memory of our friends whose bones are bleaching on our prairies." Nearly a half-century ago Helen Hunt Jackson closed the preface of her Century of Dishonor with these words: "It is a shame which the American nation ought not to lie under, for the American people, as a people, are not unjust. If there be one thing which they believe in more than any other, and mean that every man on this continent shall have, it is fair-play. And as soon as they fairly understand how cruelly it has been denied to the Indian, they will rise up and demand it for him."
Has the reservation system been abandoned?
That the government has slowly been awakened to the injustice of the system so inevitably calculated to demoralize the Indian and rob him of all prospect of self-support and self-respect, we may now confidently assert. A better day is dawning for this unfortunate people. The policy of the government as now plainly and positively announced is to break up the reservations. The method adopted in brief is the following: A commission is appointed by the government to reside on the several reservations and confer with the Indians until a satisfactory adjustment can be arrived at. One hundred and sixty acres of land are allotted to the head of the family and eighty acres in addition to each member of the family. These allotments are not made arbitrarily but in furtherance of the individual preference of the Indians in each case. After all the land has thus been allotted, in severalty, to the various families on the reservation, there is, of course, a very large acreage of unallotted land to be sold to the highest bidder. The government wisely superintends the sale of the Indian lands, and the proceeds go into a fund for the benefit of the tribe. Such objects as schools, farming implements, irrigating ditches and better equipment generally being chiefly considered.
Worthy Indians have nothing to fear and much to hope for from the proximity of the white man settled and domiciled in large numbers in his very midst, his rights being safeguarded by the paternal interest and care of Uncle Sam. The Indian Office in Washington, through its Indian resident representative, now called superintendent, and special disbursing agent and his employe's, is doing all in its power, sparing neither money or means to aid and encourage the Indians to build up their home farms and ranches. The material aid which will at first be given will not long be needed, but the supervision of the superintendent and his assistants will be required for some years to come.
In the case of the reservations with which I am personally familiar, the very anticipation of having their lands divided up, in scveralty, has had a most wholesome effect. There the majority of the Indians have already learned or are steadily learning to adopt the white men's habits as to farming and taking care of themselves. Many of them have good farms, with crops of from ten to twenty acres of grain, and in some instances far more, with an equal amount of hay.
Despite the discouraging conditions to which I have alluded, the cause of religion and morality has been much advanced among the Indians. For this result much credit must be given the government schools, where intelligent and sympathetic teachers have done much to elevate the tone of their pupils. The efforts of the government in this direction have also been largely reinforced by the various churches whose educational work has been noteworthy.
Polygamy, which was formerly prevalent, is now forbidden by the Indian Office. While the older couples who have lived as man and wife for many years are advised to be legally united in marriage, the younger people are not allowed to marry otherwise than in due form and after license issued by the United States superintendent.
The whole country is to be congratulated in having as the commissioner of Indian affairs, so sane and efficient and sympathetic a friend of the red-man as Mr. Francis Leupp. It is no disparagement to any of his predecessors in that most important office--and some of them have been excellent Christian gentlemen--to say that in Mr. Leupp the government has a representative who really knows the Indian problem and how to handle it, and who also has the courage of his convictions. He has gained his knowledge not by reading sentimental books about Indian wrongs, but by twenty years of intimate contact with the red-man himself. His splendid gifts are consecrated to the cause of ameliorating the condition of this unhappy people, and his method is as widely differentiated from that of his predecessors as day from night.
It is the method which has for its underlying motive the conviction that the Indian must become, as soon as possible, no longer a distinct and separate charge upon the government, an unassimilated race having no part in its affairs, but thoroughly identified with its life and work. To this end he would have him learn to labor and pay for his own bread by the sweat of his brow. Here are some of his practical suggestions: He says, "As fast as an Indian of cither mixed or full blood is capable of taking care of himself it is our duty to set him upon his feet and sever forever the tics which bind him either to his tribe--in the communal sense--or to the government. This principle must become operative in respect to both land and money. We must end the un-American absurdity of keeping one class of our people in a condition of so many undivided portions of a common lump. Each Indian must be recognized as an individual and so treated, just as each white man is. ... Thanks to the late Henry L. Dawes, of Massachusetts, we have for eighteen years been individualizing the Indian as an owner of real estate by breaking up, one at a time, the reservations set apart for whole tribes and establishing each Indian as a separate landholder on his own account: thanks to John F. Lacey, of Iowa, I hope that we shall soon be making the same sort of division of the tribal funds. At first, of course^ the government must keep its protecting hand on every Indian's property after it has been assigned to him by book and deed; then as one or another shows himself capable of passing out from under this tutelage he should be set fully free and given 'the white man's chance,' with the white man's obligation to balance it.
"Finally, we must strive in every way possible to make the Indian an active factor in the up-building of the community in which he is going to live. The local frontier theory that he is a sort of necessary nuisance, surviving from a remote period, like the sage-brush and the giant cactus, must be dispelled, and the way to dispel it is to turn him into a positive benefit. In short, our aim ought to be to keep him moving steadily down the path which leads from his close domain of artificial restraints and artificial protection towards the broad area of individual liberty enjoyed by the ordinary citizen. The process of general readjustment must be gradual, but it should be carried forward as fast as it can be with presumptive security for the Indian's little possessions.... The leading-strings which have tied the Indian to the Treasury ever since he began to own anything of value have been a curse to him. They have kept him an economic nursling long past the time when he ought to have been able to take a few steps alone. The tendency of whatever crude training in money matters he has had for the last half-century has been towards making him an easy victim to such waves of civic heresy as swept over the country in the early nineties. That is not the sort of politics into which we wish the Indian to plunge as he assumes the responsibilities of citizenship."
Agreeably to this most sensible policy, the allotment of land to each Indian on the Wind River Reservation is now practically completed. A few of the disaffected old-timers have refused to accept allotments, but in every case their wives and children have taken them, so that there are only a few without allotments.
The land is selected by the Indians themselves. To those few who have refused to select, allotments will probably be assigned. There is plenty of good land for all, and when the diminished or unsold portion of the reservation is thrown open to settlement, according to the present policy of the government, there will be thousands of acres of good land left to be located by settlers.
The ceded portion of the Shoshone Reservation was thrown open to settlement on August 15, 1906. The effect cannot but be beneficial to the Indian in every way. First, in that it will bring civilization nearer his home and give him constantly an object-lesson as to modern methods of agriculture, and the care of stock, and the thrift of the white man generally.
Again, the sale of these surplus lands will provide means for the improvement of the Indians' allotments in the way of funds for the construction of irrigating canals and ditches for their farms, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars of the purchase-money having been set aside by the treaty for that one purpose. Fifty thousand dollars of the same funds have been appropriated for schools. The balance is to be used to constitute a general welfare and improvement fund to be expended for the benefit of the Indians in the way they may in council direct and the secretary of the interior may approve. The Indians on this reservation will also be made glad this fall by the distribution of fifty dollars in cash per capita.
Thousands of dollars have already been expended by the government in the construction of irrigating canals and ditches for the Indian allotments, and this year one hundred thousand dollars more is available for the same purpose. This money is advanced by the government, to be refunded by the proceeds of the sale of lands already ceded.
Moreover, every allotment of arable land made to an Indian is either now or will be ere long under ditch so that it can be irrigated. The canals and lateral ditches are being constructed by the Indians themselves, with their teams, under the supervision of experienced engineers. Great numbers of Indians of both tribes are at this present moment thus employed under pay of one dollar and a half per day and three dollar per day for man and team.
It would not be possible to place all the reservation under ditch. The western line or boundary is the summit of the main range of the Rocky Mountains or Continental Divide. But what cannot be irrigated is valuable timber or grazing land, containing also much mineral and coal and oil.
When the reservation was set apart for the Shoshones, Chief Washakie insisted on having mountains and rivers as boundaries. When it was suggested to him by the United States commissioners sent out to treat with him that the future home of his tribe would be defined by latitude and longitude, or, as they tried to explain to Washakie, by the stars, the veteran chief replied with a twinkle in his eye: "By-and-by, by-and-by, I hope we may all meet there"--pointing heavenward--"but, for the present, give me mountains and rivers for the boundaries of my home."
Is the Indian religious? Undoubtedly. There is no race by nature more deeply religious than the red-man. Religion, as he conceives it, enters into every relation of life. This is far from saying that he is a Christian as yet. But it may be asserted without fear of contradiction that the story of the cross appeals strongly to his imagination, and he yields himself readily to the power and fascination of the Gospel of Christ. Among the marvels of Christian triumph during the last half-century none is more remarkable than the great work of evangelization accomplished by Bishop Hare among the twenty thousand Sioux in South Dakota. He has scores of congregations, with native Indian cate-chists and clergy, and their progress in all that goes to make earnest and faithful disciples of Christ is beyond question. Of course, it takes time and much faith and patience to accomplish such results. Bishop Hare has been among the Sioux for over thirty years. In their native faith, before they accept Christianity, there are certain general beliefs, but the religious practices of the various tribes differ more or less.
The Shoshones are rather more superstitious than religious. They are not as devout naturally as some other tribes, but light-hearted, happy-go-lucky people, who take even death with a laugh. The Arapahoes, on the other hand, are far more religious and devout, confidently believing that they, and they alone, are God's chosen people, heirs of salvation and of the life everlasting in "our home." Indeed, in many respects their religion is similar to that of the Old Testament and God's covenant with the children of Israel. They have the story of the creation, the entrance of death into the world, and the promise of redemption. They also believe in the resurrection of the body and eternal life. Moreover, they look for a savior of their race. Their religious ceremonies and sacred rites remind one forcibly of the ancient Hebrews and of the idolatry of the Canaan-ites combined. They are without doubt the remnant of an ancient people who, according to their own traditions, crossed over from the "old earth" to this "new earth" by way of the northwest, passing over frozen water. They came hither to escape oppression; for their country was taken, they themselves were cruelly treated, and their children slain by "strangers," the Gentiles. This is the name by which they now designate the whites. The word "pale face" has no place in their language or in that of the Shoshones, nor have the expressions "great spirit," "happy hunting-ground," and other time-honored phrases.
The Shoshones have a simple religion. They call the Creator "Our Father," and believe in the transmigration of souls after death in the land beyond the setting sun, which they claim is their home. They formerly practised suttee, but now the favorite horse of the deceased is claimed instead of the widow. Their dominant religious conviction, however, is the constant dread of a visible demon, manikin in shape. Their medicine-men claim to see him, and he shoots at them with flint-tipped arrows. All their misfortunes and illnesses they ascribe to this nemesis. This superstition probably had its origin in the existence of a pygmy race of aborigines concerning whom both tribes have definite and reliable traditions. A great many of their customs are identical with those of the East Indians or Hindus given by Abbé Dubois in his Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies. The religious customs of both tribes bear out the truth that the cradle of the human race was in the Orient.
As with us whites we look to the East whence we came, so the Shoshone looks to the West. Ere he rolls himself up in his blanket for the night, he goes through his simple vesper devotions, consisting of a plaintive, low whistle, accompanied with a little jigging dance, with his face towards the sunset, for there, he says, is his home land. From the West, too, he looks for the great pilgrim host at the return of the dead.
So also to the Arapahoe the Northwest is the sacred quarter. With his face set in that direction he beats upon his breast when in distress, and offers his propitiatory sacrifice with prayers fervent and strong.
During the earlier period of the ghost-dance, or the so-called "Messiah craze," of the fall of 1886, there was great excitement on the Wind River Reservation. This was before the craze had reached other tribes. The Indians assembled and danced frantically all night long for weeks together. Runners had arrived with the startling news that the great host of the dead was advancing from the West, and that "Our Father," God, was with them leading them on. At that time extensive forest-fires in the mountains near by filled these valleys with a smoky haze, and the sky for weeks at sunset was a flaming red. These phenomena added weight to the strange tidings brought them, and the Indians were insane with excitement and expectation. Visiting Indians who came from other tribes caught the contagion and enthusiasm, and returned home full of fervor to spread the news far and wide. Indeed, the Wind River Reservation was the Mecca of the ghost-dancers, the cardinal doctrines of whose faith were the return of the dead to life again, the emancipation of the Indians by the restoration of the grand old times, the return of the buffalo which once roamed by thousands on the plain, and, above all, the utter annihilation of the white man.
Any review of the native religion of the Indian would be imperfect that failed to reckon with the medicine-man. He still has power as a religious factor, not so much as a teacher of heathenism as one supposed to be able to diagnose diseases and to prescribe means to overcome baneful influences and the work of evil spirits which cause sickness and misfortune. For instance, a gopher (a diminutive sort of prairie-dog) has drawn near a tepee at night, and cast a spell over a whole family; or a wolf has howled on a neighboring bluff, and thus called a member of the family away from earth. It is a serious case, and a horse must be sacrificed in the mountains to break this spell of the gopher, or a wolf-skin has to be procured and hung up in the tepee to checkmate its companion of the evil howl. Sometimes the medicine-man may pretend to be puzzled with a case. He decides that he must fall into a trance and explore in the land of (lie dead where all things are known and ascertain tlio cause of the sickness or calamity and find a remedy. Presently he wakes up and has a marvellous tale to tell. Should he have a streak of good luck, and many of his patients recover, "the power" or "medicine" is strong within him, and he has a large practice, and many horses and other fees are paid him. Should he unfortunately lose his patients he claims that his "power" is in abeyance, and he retires from practice for a season until he becomes charged with the "power" again.
Arapahoe medicine-men also hypnotize their patients occasionally, and sometimes resort to faith-cure. With massage, blowing chewed roots from his mouth on the bare body of the patient like a Chinaman dampening his clothes, he also makes use of a peculiar way of cupping--sucking with his lips the blood through the skin of the sick person. So strong is this suction that for many days the portion of the body thus treated will remain bloodshot and bruised. Herb teas are also administered by them, often with very beneficial effects.
Each medicine-man has qualified in a way peculiarly his own. The most famous one now on the reservation claims that he got his diploma from the powers of the air. One day, lying down in his tepee, he heard a noise from above calling him by name. Stepping outside he saw a "paper" floating down through the air towards him. He at once ran up one of the slender tepee poles like a chipmunk, and standing tiptoe on its topmost end reached out and seized the document as it passed by. Thus, he says, he got his "papers."
Another says that he was made a medicine-man in his youth. He was left an orphan, friendless and very poor. One day he travelled out on a wide plain alone to bemoan his fate. There he seated himself and wept and wailed. Looking up, he saw squatting by him an eagle, a bear, and a badger, these three. Being asked by them why he wept, he told them his tale of woe. They bade him be of good cheer, for they would make of him a medicineman. Thereupon the eagle plucked off one of his talons and presented it to him, saying: "By this I bestow on you all knowledge that is above the earth." The bear likewise handed him one of her claws, endowing him with all knowledge on the earth, and finally the badger, bowing, passed him one of his claws, thus giving him the key to the knowledge of all things under the earth. "Here they are," said Wolf-foot (for that is his name), pointing to the three claws he had on a buckskin string around his neck.
The more intelligent Indians and all those who have been educated in our schools believe in the salutary effect of the treatment of the white man's doctor, and seek his help in sickness. Of the others, only the very old and superstitious still cling to the medicine-man.
This brings me to consider, finally, one objection against educating the Indian children. It is said that when they return to the reservation, after being graduated from our schools in the East or elsewhere, they resume their blankets and relapse into their old ways and savage customs. This is often partially true; and it will continue to be the case as long as the reservation is the only destination of the young man or woman who returns from the school. It were unreasonable to expect it to be otherwise. To compel such young people to go back and live among those who still retain Indian customs and dress, with the hope that they will steadfastly adhere to the dress of the hated white man, is absurd. Such youth are exposed to ridicule and taunts, until, life becoming intolerable, they simply yield to the pressure, and cease the struggle of being peculiar and obnoxious to their own people The fact that they assume again the dress of the Indian does not necessarily mean that their school-training is lost upon them. As with the white man, so with the Indian, the outward dress and appearance does not constitute the man, and we may be sure that the educated boy or girl never sinks to the same level he once occupied before his schooldays. But when the reservation system is broken up--and let us rejoice that it is now rapidly disappearing--the educated youth will return to a community quite different from that which has hitherto awaited him. He will go back to live where his neighbors and companions will be chiefly white people; and having learned at the schools the white man's life and understood its advantages, he will continue to live that life, and intelligently and sympathetically commend it to his own people.
Under the new regime the day of the tepee and blanket is doomed; as the old order passes away the coming generations will catch the spirit of the new era awaiting the red-man, and will gradually become incorporated into our body politic, until at last the Indian's separate individuality as a race will become a memory of the past.