I could not help thinking that the old man relied a little too much on the aid of allies, one of whom was a coward, another a blockhead, and the third an invalid.  This speech produced a good deal of debate.  As Reynal did not interpret what was said, I could only judge of the meaning by the features and gestures of the speakers.  At the end of it, however, the greater number seemed to have fallen in with Mene-Seela’s opinion.  A short silence followed, and then the old man struck up a discordant chant, which I was told was a song of thanks for the entertainment I had given them.

“Now,” said he, “let us go and give the white men a chance to breathe.”

So the company all dispersed into the open air, and for some time the old chief was walking round the village, singing his song in praise of the feast, after the usual custom of the nation.

At last the day drew to a close, and as the sun went down the horses came trooping from the surrounding plains to be picketed before the dwellings of their respective masters.  Soon within the great circle of lodges appeared another concentric circle of restless horses; and here and there fires were glowing and flickering amid the gloom of the dusky figures around them.  I went over and sat by the lodge of Reynal.  The Eagle-Feather, who was a son of Mene-Seela, and brother of my host the Big Crow, was seated there already, and I asked him if the village would move in the morning.  He shook his head, and said that nobody could tell, for since old Mahto-Tatonka had died, the people had been like children that did not know their own minds.  They were no better than a body without a head.  So I, as well as the Indians themselves, fell asleep that night without knowing whether we should set out in the morning toward the country of the Snakes.

At daybreak, however, as I was coming up from the river after my morning’s ablutions, I saw that a movement was contemplated.  Some of the lodges were reduced to nothing but bare skeletons of poles; the leather covering of others was flapping in the wind as the squaws were pulling it off.  One or two chiefs of note had resolved, it seemed, on moving; and so having set their squaws at work, the example was tacitly followed by the rest of the village.  One by one the lodges were sinking down in rapid succession, and where the great circle of the village had been only a moment before, nothing now remained but a ring of horses and Indians, crowded in confusion together.  The ruins of the lodges were spread over the ground, together with kettles, stone mallets, great ladles of horn, buffalo robes, and cases of painted hide, filled with dried meat.  Squaws bustled about in their busy preparations, the old hags screaming to one another at the stretch of their leathern lungs.  The shaggy horses were patiently standing while the lodge-poles were lashed to their sides, and the baggage piled upon their backs.  The dogs, with their tongues lolling out, lay lazily panting, and waiting for the time of departure.  Each warrior sat on the ground by the decaying embers of his fire, unmoved amid all the confusion, while he held in his hand the long trail-rope of his horse.