In the second journey to the East I had not come without some precautions. I had a secret interview with one of our best medicine men, and when I left his wigwam carried securely in my sleeve a tiny bunch of magic roots. This possession assured me of friends wherever I should go. I believed it so much that I wore it through ail the school routine for more than a year. At the close of high school, I chose to continue college career against my mother's will. I had written for her approval, but in her reply I found no encouragement. She called my notice to her neighbors' children, who had completed their education in three years. They had returned to their homes, and were then talking English with the frontier settlers. Despite all the difficulties, I entered an oratorical contest among the various classes. In the chapel the classes assembled together, with their invited guests. One after another I saw and heard the orators. Each contestant received a loud burst of applause, and some were cheered heartily. Too soon my turn came, and I paused a moment behind the curtains for a deep breath. After my concluding words, I heard the same applause that the others had received. Upon my retreating steps, I was astounded to receive from my fellow-students a large bouquet of roses tied with flowing ribbons. With the lovely flowers I fled from the stage. This friendly token was a rebuke to me for the hard feelings I had borne them. Later, the decision of the judges awarded me the first place. A few weeks afterwards, I appeared as the college representative in another contest between different colleges. Here again was a strong prejudice against my people. After the orations were delivered, some college rowdies threw out a large white flag, with a drawing of a most forlorn Indian gift. Under this they had printed in bold black letter words that ridiculed the college which was represented by a 'squaw'. Such worse than barbarian rudeness embittered me. There were two prizes given that night, and one of them was mine! The evil spirit laughed within me when the white flag dropped out of sight, and the hands which hurled it hung limp in defeat. Leaving the crowd as quickly as possible, I was soon in my room. The rest of the night I sat in an armchair and gazed into the crackling fire. I laughed no more in triumph when thus alone. The little taste of victory did not satisfy a hunger in my heart. In my mind I saw my mother far away on the Western plains, and she was holding a charge against me. What is the purpose of the bunch of magic roots?