It occupied an extensive plain which sloped gently down to a creek[*], whose winding course was marked by a broken line of wood, here and there interspersed with a fine clump of trees, between the trunks of which the blue waters of a lake sparkled in the distance.  Hundreds of tents or “lodges” of buffalo-skins covered the ground, and thousands of Indians—­men, women, and children—­moved about the busy scene.  Some were sitting in their lodges, lazily smoking their pipes.  But these were chiefly old and infirm veterans, for all the young men had gone to the hunt which we have just described.  The women were stooping over their fires, busily preparing maize and meat for their husbands and brothers; while myriads of little brown and naked children romped about everywhere, filling the air with their yells and screams, which were only equalled, if not surpassed, by the yelping dogs that seemed innumerable.

[Footnote *:  In America small rivers or rivulets are termed “creeks.”]

Far as the eye could reach were seen scattered herds of horses.  These were tended by little boys who were totally destitute of clothing, and who seemed to enjoy with infinite zest the pastime of shooting-practice with little bows and arrows.  No wonder that these Indians become expert bowmen.  There were urchins there, scarce two feet high, with round bullets of bodies and short spindle-shanks, who could knock blackbirds off the trees at every shot, and cut the heads off the taller flowers with perfect certainty!  There was much need, too, for the utmost proficiency they could attain, for the very existence of the Indian tribes of the prairies depends on their success in hunting the buffalo.

There are hundreds and thousands of North American savages who would undoubtedly perish, and their tribes become extinct, if the buffaloes were to leave the prairies or die out.  Yet, although animals are absolutely essential to their existence, they pursue and slay them with improvident recklessness, sometimes killing hundreds of them merely for the sake of the sport, the tongues, and the marrow bones.  In the bloody hunt described in the last chapter, however, the slaughter of so many was not wanton, because the village that had to be supplied with food was large, and, just previous to the hunt, they had been living on somewhat reduced allowance.  Even the blackbirds shot by the brown-bodied urchins before mentioned had been thankfully put into the pot.  Thus precarious is the supply of food among the Red-men, who on one day are starving, and the next are revelling in superabundance.

But to return to our story.  At one end of this village the creek sprang over a ledge of rock in a low cascade and opened out into a beautiful lake, the bosom of which was studded with small islands.  Here were thousands of those smaller species of wild water-fowl which were either too brave or too foolish to be scared away by the noise of the camp.  And here, too, dozens of children were sporting on the beach, or paddling about in their light bark canoes.