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 public voice 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. I suffered 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. Here also two of our trapper
friends left us, and set out for the Rocky Mountains. On the second
morning, despairing of Bisonette's arrival we resumed our journey,
traversing a forlorn and dreary monotony of sun-scorched plains, where
no living thing appeared save here and there an antelope flying before
us like the wind. When noon came we saw an unwonted and most welcome
sight; a rich and luxuriant growth of trees, marking the course of a
little stream called Horseshoe Creek. We turned g