When we came up the ceremony of shaking hands had to be gone through
with in due form, and then all were eager to know what had become of
the rest of my party. I satisfied them on this point, and we all
moved forward together toward the village.
"You've missed it," said Reynal; "if you'd been here day before
yesterday, you'd have found the whole prairie over yonder black with
buffalo as far as you could see. There were no cows, though; nothing
but bulls. We made a 'surround' every day till yesterday. See the
village there; don't that look like good living?"
In fact I could see, even at that distance, that long cords were
stretched from lodge to lodge, over which the meat, cut by the squaws
into thin sheets, was hanging to dry in the sun. I noticed too that
the village was somewhat smaller than when I had last seen it, and I
asked Reynal the cause. He said that the old Le Borgne had felt too
weak to pass over the mountains, and so had remained behind with all
his relations, including Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers. The
Whirlwind too had been unwilling to come so far, because, as Reynal
said, he was afraid. Only half a dozen lodges had adhered to him,
the main body of the village setting their chief's authority at
naught, and taking the course most agreeable to their inclinations.
"What chiefs are there in the village now?" said I.
"Well," said Reynal, "there's old Red-Water, and the Eagle-Feather,
and the Big Crow, and the Mad Wolf and the Panther, and the White
Shield, and - what's his name? - the half-breed Cheyenne."
By this time we were close to the village, and I observed that while
the greater part of the lodges were very large and neat in their
appearance, there was at one side a cluster of squalid, miserable
huts. I looked toward them, and made some remark about their
wretched appearance. But I was touching upon delicate ground.
"My squaw's relations live in those lodges," said Reynal very warmly,
"and there isn't a better set in the whole village."
"Are there any chiefs among them?" asked I.
"Chiefs?" said Reynal; "yes, plenty!"
"What are their names?" I inquired.
"Their names? Why, there's the Arrow-Head. If he isn't a chief he
ought to be one. And there's the Hail-Storm. He's nothing but a
boy, to be sure; but he's bound to be a chief one of these days!"
Just then we passed between two of the lodges, and entered the great
area of the village. Superb naked figures stood silently gazing on
us.
"Where's the Bad Wound's lodge?" said I to Reynal.
"There, you've missed it again! The Bad Wound is away with The
Whirlwind. If you could have found him here, and gone to live in his
lodge, he would have treated you better than any man in the village.
