No finer stage for such a spectacle could well be conceived.  Upon one side stretched the great waste of waters; on the other, level plains, composed of yellow sand quickly merging into the green and brown of the prairie, while, scattered over its surface, from the near lake-shore to the distant river, were figures constantly moving, decked in gay feathers and daubed with war-paint.  Westward from the Fort, toward the point where a branch of the main river appeared to emerge from the southward, stood a large village of tepees, the sun shining yellow and white on their deerskin coverings and making an odd glow in the smoke that curled above the lodge-poles.  From where we rode it looked to be a big encampment, alive with figures of Indians.  My companion and I both noted, and spoke together of the fact, that they all seemed braves; squaws there may have been, but of children there were none visible.

Populous as this camp appeared, the plain stretching between it and us was literally swarming with savages.  A few were mounted upon horses, riding here and there with upraised spears, their hair flying wildly behind them, their war-bonnets gorgeous in the sunshine.  By far the greater number, however, were idling about on foot, stalwart, swarthy fellows, with long black locks, and half-naked painted forms.  One group was listening to the words of a chief; others were playing at la crosse; but most of them were merely moving restlessly here and there, not unlike caged wild animals, eager to be free.

I heard Captain Wells draw in his breath sharply.

“As I live!” he ejaculated, “there can be scarce less than a thousand warriors in that band,—­and no trading-party either, if I know aught of Indian signs.”

Before I could answer him, even had I any word to say, a chief broke away from the gathering mass in our immediate front, and rode headlong down upon us, bringing his horse to its haunches barely a yard away.

He was a large, sinewy man, his face rendered hideous by streaks of yellow and red, wearing a high crown of eagle feathers, with a scalp of long light-colored hair, still bloody, dangling at his belt.  For a moment he and Captain Wells looked sternly into each other’s eyes without speaking.  Then the savage broke silence.

“Wau-mee-nuk great brave,” he said, sullenly, in broken English, using Wells’s Indian name, “but him big fool come here now.  Why not stay with Big Turtle?  He tell him Pottawattomie not want him here.”

“Big Turtle did tell me,” was the quiet answer, “that the Pottawattomies had made bad medicine and were dancing the war-dance in their villages; but I have met Pottawattomies before, and am not afraid.  They have been my friends, and I have done them no wrong.”

He looked intently at the disguised face before him, seeking to trace the features.  “You are Topenebe,” he said at last.

“True,” returned the chief, with proud gravity.  “You serve me well once; for that I come now, and tell you go back,—­there is trouble here.”