Henry. Meaning Indians? My love, I respect them and admire them—at a distance; but, plain or coloured, I cannot admit that they would be decorative as furniture—even in your drawing-room!
[EMILY endures him in silence.
Orator. A party of Women of the Ogallalla Tribe!
[Three mounted Indian ladies in blankets—walk their horses slowly round the Arena, crooning "Aye-eia-ha-ya-hee-hi-ya!" with every sign of enjoying their own performance.
A Poetical Lady. What strange wild singing it is, JOHN! There's something so creepy about it, somehow.
John (a prosaic but frivolous person). There is, indeed. It explains one thing I never quite understood before, though.
The Poetical Lady. I thought it would impress you—but what does it explain?
John. The reason why the buffalo in those parts has so entirely died out.
A Rigid Matron (during the Emigrant Train Scene). I don't care to see a girl ride in that bold way myself. I'm sure it must be so unsexing for them. And what is she about now, with that man? They're actually having a duel with knives—on horseback too! not at all a nice thing for any young girl to do. There! she's pulled out a pistol and shot him—and galloped off as if nothing had happened! I have always heard that American girls were allowed a good deal of liberty—but I'd really no idea they went as far as this! I should be sorry indeed to see any girl of mine (here the glances instructively at three dumpy and dough-faced Daughters) acting in that forward and most unfeminine manner. (Reassuringly.) But I'm very sure there's no fear of that, is there, dears?