te;-shka Society, where the dancer, with body bent and with short rhythmic steps, had kept time to the dramatic laugh of the song,--a song that had seemed so aimless to me only the night before.
"Every song of the Society has its story which is the record of some deed or achievement of its members," said another old man who was lying beside the fire. "I will tell you one that was known to our great-great-grandfathers," and rising upon his elbow he began:--
THE STORY AND SONG OF ISH´-I-BUZ-ZHI.
"Long ago there lived an old Omaha Indian couple who had an only child, a son named Ish´-i-buz-zhi. From his birth he was peculiar. He did not play like the other children; and, as he grew older, he kept away from the boys of his own age, refusing to join in their sports or to hunt with them for small game. He was silent and reserved with every one but his mother and her friends. With them he chatted and was quite at ease. So queer a little boy could not escape ridicule.