Closer and closer the struggle came,and still the women appeared to grow more and more calm.
At last a tremendous charge by the Sioux put the enemy to flight;there was a burst of yelling;alas!my friend and teacher,old Smoky Day,was silent.He had been pierced to the heart by an arrow from the Ojibways.
Although successful,we had lost two of our men,Smoky Day and White Crane,and this inci-dent,although hardly unexpected,darkened our peaceful sky.The camp was filled with songs of victory,mingled with the wailing of the relatives of the slain.The mothers of the youths who were absent on the war-path could no longer con-ceal their anxiety.
One frosty morning--for it was then near the end of October--the weird song of a solitary brave was heard.In an instant the camp was thrown into indescribable confusion.The meaning of this was clear as day to everybody--all of our war-party were killed,save the one whose mourn-ful song announced the fate of his companions.
The lonely warrior was Bald Eagle.
The village was convulsed with grief;for in sorrow,as in joy,every Indian shares with all the others.The old women stood still,wherever they might be,and wailed dismally,at intervals chanting the praises of the departed warriors.The wives went a little way from their teepees and there audibly mourned;but the young maidens wandered further away from the camp,where no one could witness their grief.The old men joined in the crying and singing.To all ap-pearances the most unmoved of all were the war-riors,whose tears must be poured forth in the country of the enemy to embitter their venge-ance.These sat silently within their lodges,and strove to conceal their feelings behind a stoical countenance;but they would probably have failed had not the soothing weed come to their relief.
The first sad shock over,then came the change of habiliments.In savage usage,the outward expression of mourning surpasses that of civiliza-tion.The Indian mourner gives up all his good clothing,and contents himself with scanty and miserable garments.Blankets are cut in two,and the hair is cropped short.Often a devoted mother would scarify her arms or legs;a sister or a young wife would cut off all her beautiful hair and disfigure herself by undergoing hardships.
Fathers and brothers blackened their faces,and wore only the shabbiest garments.Such was the spectacle that our people presented when the bright autumn was gone and the cold shadow of winter and misfortune had fallen upon us."We must suffer,"said they--"the Great Mystery is offended."II:A Winter Camp WHEN I was about twelve years old we wintered upon the Mouse river,west of Turtle mountain.
It was one of the coldest win-ters I ever knew,and was so regarded by the old men of the tribe.
The summer before there had been plenty of buffalo upon that side of the Missouri,and our people had made many packs of dried buffalo meat and cached them in different places,so that they could get them in case of need.There were many black-tailed deer and elk along the river,and grizzlies were to be found in the open coun-try.Apparently there was no danger of starva-tion,so our people thought to winter there;but it proved to be a hard winter.
There was a great snow-fall,and the cold was intense.The snow was too deep for hunting,and the main body of the buffalo had crossed the Missouri,where it was too far to go after them.
But there were some smaller herds of the animals scattered about in our vicinity,therefore there was still fresh meat to be had,but it was not secured without a great deal of difficulty.
No ponies could be used.The men hunted on snow-shoes until after the Moon of Sore Eyes (March),when after a heavy thaw a crust was formed on the snow which would scarcely hold a man.It was then that our people hunted buffalo with dogs--an unusual expedient.
Sleds were made of buffalo ribs and hickory saplings,the runners bound with rawhide with the hair side down.These slipped smoothly over the icy crust.Only small men rode on the sleds.
When buffalo were reported by the hunting-scouts,everybody had his dog team ready.All went under orders from the police,and approached the herd under cover until they came within charging distance.
The men had their bows and arrows,and a few had guns.The huge animals could not run fast in the deep snow.They all followed a leader,trampling out a narrow path.The dogs with their drivers soon caught up with them on each side,and the hunters brought many of them down.
I remember when the party returned,late in the night.The men came in single file,well loaded,and each dog following his master with an equally heavy load.Both men and animals were white with frost.
We boys had waited impatiently for their arri-val.As soon as we spied them coming a buffalo hunting whistle was started,and every urchin in the village added his voice to the weird sound,while the dogs who had been left at home joined with us in the chorus.The men,wearing their buffalo moccasins with the hair inside and robes of the same,came home hungry and exhausted.
It is often supposed that the dog in the Indian camp is a useless member of society,but it is not so in the wild life.We found him one of the most useful of domestic animals,especially in an emergency.
While at this camp a ludicrous incident occurred that is still told about the camp-fires of the Sioux.
One day the men were hunting on snow-shoes,and contrived to get within a short distance of the buffalo before they made the attack.It was im-possible to run fast,but the huge animals were equally unable to get away.Many were killed.
Just as the herd reached an open plain one of the buffaloes stopped and finally lay down.Three of the men who were pursuing him shortly came up.
The animal was severely wounded,but not dead.
