At noon we stopped by some pools of rain-water, and in the afternoon again set forward.This double movement was contrary to the usual practice of the Indians, but all were very anxious to reach the hunting ground, kill the necessary number of buffalo, and retreat as soon as possible from the dangerous neighborhood.I pass by for the present some curious incidents that occurred during these marches and encampments.Late in the afternoon of the last-mentioned day we came upon the banks of a little sandy stream, of which the Indians could not tell the name; for they were very ill acquainted with that part of the country.So parched and arid were the prairies around that they could not supply grass enough for the horses to feed upon, and we were compelled to move farther and farther up the stream in search of ground for encampment.The country was much wilder than before.
The plains were gashed with ravines and broken into hollows and steep declivities, which flanked our course, as, in long-scattered array, the Indians advanced up the side of the stream.Mene-Seela consulted an extraordinary oracle to instruct him where the buffalo were to be found.When he with the other chiefs sat down on the grass to smoke and converse, as they often did during the march, the old man picked up one of those enormous black-and-green crickets, which the Dakota call by a name that signifies "They who point out the buffalo." The Root-Diggers, a wretched tribe beyond the mountains, turn them to good account by making them into a sort of soup, pronounced by certain unscrupulous trappers to be extremely rich.Holding the bloated insect respectfully between his fingers and thumb, the old Indian looked attentively at him and inquired, "Tell me, my father, where must we go to-morrow to find the buffalo?" The cricket twisted about his long horns in evident embarrassment.At last he pointed, or seemed to point, them westward.Mene-Seela, dropping him gently on the grass, laughed with great glee, and said that if we went that way in the morning we should be sure to kill plenty of game.
Toward evening we came upon a fresh green meadow, traversed by the stream, and deep-set among tall sterile bluffs.The Indians descended its steep bank; and as I was at the rear, I was one of the last to reach this point.Lances were glittering, feathers fluttering, and the water below me was crowded with men and horses passing through, while the meadow beyond was swarming with the restless crowd of Indians.The sun was just setting, and poured its softened light upon them through an opening in the hills.
I remarked to Reynal that at last we had found a good camping-ground.
"Oh, it is very good," replied he ironically; "especially if there is a Snake war party about, and they take it into their heads to shoot down at us from the top of these hills.It is no plan of mine, camping in such a hole as this!"The Indians also seemed apprehensive.High up on the top of the tallest bluff, conspicuous in the bright evening sunlight, sat a naked warrior on horseback, looking around, as it seemed, over the neighboring country; and Raymond told me that many of the young men had gone out in different directions as scouts.
The shadows had reached to the very summit of the bluffs before the lodges were erected and the village reduced again to quiet and order.
A cry was suddenly raised, and men, women, and children came running out with animated faces, and looked eagerly through the opening on the hills by which the stream entered from the westward.I could discern afar off some dark, heavy masses, passing over the sides of a low hill.They disappeared, and then others followed.These were bands of buffalo cows.The hunting-ground was reached at last, and everything promised well for the morrow's sport.Being fatigued and exhausted, I went and lay down in Kongra-Tonga's lodge, when Raymond thrust in his head, and called upon me to come and see some sport.Anumber of Indians were gathered, laughing, along the line of lodges on the western side of the village, and at some distance, I could plainly see in the twilight two huge black monsters stalking, heavily and solemnly, directly toward us.They were buffalo bulls.The wind blew from them to the village, and such was their blindness and stupidity that they were advancing upon the enemy without the least consciousness of his presence.Raymond told me that two men had hidden themselves with guns in a ravine about twenty yards in front of us.The two bulls walked slowly on, heavily swinging from side to side in their peculiar gait of stupid dignity.They approached within four or five rods of the ravine where the Indians lay in ambush.Here at last they seemed conscious that something was wrong, for they both stopped and stood perfectly still, without looking either to the right or to the left.Nothing of them was to be seen but two huge black masses of shaggy mane, with horns, eyes, and nose in the center, and a pair of hoofs visible at the bottom.At last the more intelligent of them seemed to have concluded that it was time to retire.Very slowly, and with an air of the gravest and most majestic deliberation, he began to turn round, as if he were revolving on a pivot.Little by little his ugly brown side was exposed to view.A white smoke sprang out, as it were from the ground; a sharp report came with it.The old bull gave a very undignified jump and galloped off.At this his comrade wheeled about with considerable expedition.The other Indian shot at him from the ravine, and then both the bulls were running away at full speed, while half the juvenile population of the village raised a yell and ran after them.The first bull was soon stopped, and while the crowd stood looking at him at a respectable distance, he reeled and rolled over on his side.The other, wounded in a less vital part, galloped away to the hills and escaped.
In half an hour it was totally dark.I lay down to sleep, and ill as I was, there was something very animating in the prospect of the general hunt that was to take place on the morrow.
