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While we were in Boston in 1879, a lady told me that after studying ethnology for years in books and museums she now wished to visit Indian tribes in their own lodges, living as they lived and observing their daily customs herself–especially the women’s and children’s ways.

"Did you ever camp out?" I asked.

"No, never."

I found it hard to take her plan seriously. She, a thorough product of city life, was evidently nearing her forties. I could not imagine her leaving all her home comforts to go out to the far frontier and live among the Indians in an Indian lodge. Still, she was so earnest that I reluctantly agreed to take her some day with our group for the trip she wished. But I gave her fair warning: "You can’t stand such a trip. You’ll have to sleep on the cold ground. The food will be strange to you. You’ll meet storms on the open prairie and be wet to the skin. Burning sun and wind will blister your face and hands. Long days of traveling will exhaust you. You’ll have no privacy night or day. I’m sure you never can endure it."

"Yes, I can!" she insisted.

Thomas Henry Tibbles, Buckskin and Blanket Days, page 236

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