Laramie Creek bounded it on the left, sweeping along in the shadow of the declivities, and passing with its shallow and rapid current just below us.We sat on horseback, waiting and looking on, while the whole savage array went pouring past us, hurrying down the descent and spreading themselves over the meadow below.In a few moments the plain was swarming with the moving multitude, some just visible, like specks in the distance, others still passing on, pressing down, and fording the stream with bustle and confusion.On the edge of the heights sat half a dozen of the elder warriors, gravely smoking and looking down with unmoved faces on the wild and striking spectacle.
Up went the lodges in a circle on the margin of the stream.For the sake of quiet we pitched our tent among some trees at half a mile's distance.In the afternoon we were in the village.The day was a glorious one, and the whole camp seemed lively and animated in sympathy.Groups of children and young girls were laughing gayly on the outside of the lodges.The shields, the lances, and the bows were removed from the tall tripods on which they usually hung before the dwellings of their owners.The warriors were mounting their horses, and one by one riding away over the prairie toward the neighboring hills.
Shaw and I sat on the grass near the lodge of Reynal.An old woman, with true Indian hospitality, brought a bowl of boiled venison and placed it before us.We amused ourselves with watching half a dozen young squaws who were playing together and chasing each other in and out of one of the lodges.Suddenly the wild yell of the war-whoop came pealing from the hills.A crowd of horsemen appeared, rushing down their sides and riding at full speed toward the village, each warrior's long hair flying behind him in the wind like a ship's streamer.As they approached, the confused throng assumed a regular order, and entering two by two, they circled round the area at full gallop, each warrior singing his war song as he rode.Some of their dresses were splendid.They wore superb crests of feathers and close tunics of antelope skins, fringed with the scalp-locks of their enemies; their shields too were often fluttering with the war eagle's feathers.All had bows and arrows at their back; some carried long lances, and a few were armed with guns.The White Shield, their partisan, rode in gorgeous attire at their head, mounted on a black-and-white horse.Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers took no part in this parade, for they were in mourning for their sister, and were all sitting in their lodges, their bodies bedaubed from head to foot with white clay, and a lock of hair cut from each of their foreheads.
The warriors circled three times round the village; and as each distinguished champion passed, the old women would scream out his name in honor of his bravery, and to incite the emulation of the younger warriors.Little urchins, not two years old, followed the warlike pageant with glittering eyes, and looked with eager wonder and admiration at those whose honors were proclaimed by the publicvoice of the village.Thus early is the lesson of war instilled into the mind of an Indian, and such are the stimulants which incite his thirst for martial renown.
The procession rode out of the village as it had entered it, and in half an hour all the warriors had returned again, dropping quietly in, singly or in parties of two or three.
As the sun rose next morning we looked across the meadow, and could see the lodges leveled and the Indians gathering together in preparation to leave the camp.Their course lay to the westward.We turned toward the north with our men, the four trappers following us, with the Indian family of Moran.We traveled until night.Isuffered not a little from pain and weakness.We encamped among some trees by the side of a little brook, and here during the whole of the next day we lay waiting for Bisonette, but no Bisonette appeared.
