Passed
daily before my eyes may not be devoid of interest and value. These
men were thorough savages. Neither their manners nor their ideas
were in the slightest degree modified by contact with civilization.
They knew nothing of the power and real character of the white men,
and their children would scream in terror at the sight of me. Their
religion, their superstitions, and their prejudices were the same
that had been handed down to them from immemorial time. They fought
with the same weapons that their fathers fought with and wore the
same rude garments of skins.
Great changes are at hand in that region. With the stream of
emigration to Oregon and California, the buffalo will dwindle away,
and the large wandering communities who depend on them for support
must be broken and scattered. The Indians will soon be corrupted by
the example of the whites, abased by whisky, and overawed by military
posts; so that within a few years the traveler may pass in tolerable
security through their country. Its danger and its charm will have
disappeared together.
As soon as Raymond and I discovered the village from the gap in the
hills, we were seen in our turn; keen eyes were constantly on the
watch. As we rode down upon the plain the side of the village
nearest us was darkened with a crowd of naked figures gathering
around the lodges. Several men came forward to meet us. I could
distinguish among them the green blanket of the Frenchman Reynal.
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.
But there's the Big Crow's lodge yonder, next to old Red-Water's.
He's a good Indian for the whites, and I advise you to go and live
with him."
"Are there many squaws and children in his lodge?" said I.
"No; only one squaw and two or three children. He keeps the rest in
a separate lodge by themselves."
So, still followed by a crowd of Indians, Raymond and I rode up to
the entrance of the Big Crow's lodge. A squaw came out immediately
and took our horses. I put aside the leather nap that covered the
low opening, and stooping, entered the Big Crow's dwelling. There I
could see the chief in the dim light, seated at one side, on a pile
of buffalo robes. He greeted me with a guttural "How, cola!" I
requested Reynal to tell him that Raymond and I were come to live
with him. The Big Crow gave another low exclamation. If the reader
thinks that we were intruding somewhat cavalierly, I beg him to
observe that every Indian in the village would have deemed himself
honored that white men should give such preference to his
hospitality.
The squaw spread a buffalo robe for us in the guest's place at the
head of the lodge.
