THE COUNCIL FIRE
Late the second day the Sioux came in sight of the great Minneconjoux
camp. It was situated beside a wide stream that flowed down from great
snowy peaks farther to the westward. The little company of riders
stopped on the summit of a grassy knoll and looked with pride on the
great circle of lodges which dotted the plain. Their pride was somewhat
humbled, however, by the absence of the vast herd of ponies which
usually were to be seen grazing near the village. The few horses that
had escaped the Blackfeet raid were carefully guarded within the camp.
The riders had already been discovered and recognized by watchers at the
edge of the village, and a company of horsemen was soon racing across
the plain to meet them.
"See! my people are coming to take you to their village," Sun Bird told
White Otter.
As the Minneconjoux dashed up to them White Otter recognized several old
friends in the company who had come out to welcome him. There was
Feather Dog, a famous scout, with whom he had shared a number of
thrilling adventures; and Sitting Eagle, another great scout, was in the
party. Then there was Kicking Bull, a renowned hunter, whom White Otter
had saved from death in a buffalo stampede. All those men greeted the
famous young Ogalala chief with great respect, and his heart filled with
pride as he realized the esteem in which he was held by those renowned
warriors.
"You have come to help us fight the Blackfeet," said Feather Dog. "It is
good. We will do some big things."
"I was going with my brother Sun Bird to find you, but the great chief
Curly Horse asked me to stay behind," explained Kicking Bull. "Some of
our young men saw smoke over near the mountains, and we were afraid that
the Blackfeet were coming back. That is why I held back."
"It is good," declared White Otter.
As the horsemen approached the camp the Minneconjoux began to shout the
name of White Otter and to sing songs of welcome. The daring exploits of
the young Ogalala war chief had made him famous throughout the great
Dacotah nation, and the Minneconjoux were prepared to honor him with
the courtesies due a great chief. When he reached the edge of the
village he was met by a delegation of noted warriors who led him through
the camp, so that all the people might have a chance to welcome him.
"See, here is White Otter!" cried the Minneconjoux. "It is White Otter,
the great chief of the Ogalalas. It is White Otter, the great war
leader. See, White Otter, our lodges are open. We have cooked much meat.
You must come to our lodges, and eat with us."
Men, women and children followed behind his pony, as his escort led him
toward the lodge of the famous chief, Curly Horse. The Minneconjoux war
chief was waiting to receive him. Beside him stood Rain Crow, the noted
Minneconjoux medicine man, who was the father of Sun Bird and Little
Raven. The most renowned men of the tribe composed the company which
Curly Horse had summoned to greet the Ogalala. They were dressed in
their choicest possessions and they made a splendid appearance. Each of
them wore the coveted war bonnet of eagle plumes, and carried his
coupstick with a record of his achievements on the war trail. It was a
notable gathering, and White Otter thrilled with pride as he looked upon
those splendid men of the great Dacotah nation.
Curly Horse, the chief, was particularly imposing. He was a middle-aged
man, tall, and of powerful physique, with stern features, and steady,
penetrating eyes. His voice was deep and commanding, and he carried
himself with the pride and dignity appropriate to his rank. He wore a
great headdress of eagle feathers which extended to the ground. Each
feather was tipped with a small tuft of hair taken from the scalps of
his foes. His buckskin shirt was decorated with weasel tails, and mystic
symbols traced with colored porcupine quills. His buckskin breeches were
deeply fringed, and ornamented with porcupine quills and elk teeth. A
breastplate composed of the leg bones of deer covered his breast. About
his neck was a necklace of bear claws. His moccasins were of buffalo
hide, beautifully decorated with porcupine quills and colored grass.
Over his arm he carried a magnificent robe of the grizzly bear.
"White Otter, you have come to my lodge--it is good," said Curly Horse.
"These great warriors have come here to meet you. Many moons have passed
since you came here before. My people have talked about you. They wanted
you to come back. Now I will tell you that we feel good because you have
come here."
"I have listened to the words of the great chief, Curly Horse," replied
White Otter. "They make me feel good. I will keep them in my heart. The
Minneconjoux are my brothers. When my brothers call, I come. My brother
Sun Bird called me. I am here. I am going with my brothers to fight the
Blackfeet. We will bring back many ponies."
As White Otter ceased speaking Curly Horse glanced at Rain Crow and the
famous medicine man stepped forward to greet the Ogalala.
Rain Crow appeared older and less robust than his chief, but he, too,
was of striking appearance. His face was seamed and scarred, and his
hair was streaked with gray. His eyes, however, flashed with the fire of
youth. He wore a large wolfskin cap decorated with a great pair of
buffalo horns. His face was painted with white clay. His hair was
divided into two braids bound with otter skin. His buckskin shirt and
breeches were decorated with mysterious medicine symbols. About his neck
was a necklace of sacred charms or tokens, each believed to possess some
strange power which would aid him in overcoming the Evil Spirits, and
preserve him from the attacks of his foes. In his right hand he carried
the sacred medicine pipe. Over his left arm was a handsome robe of
wolfskins.
"White Otter, Curly Horse has spoken," said Rain Crow. "Now I will give
you some words. I feel good when I see you here. You are a young man,
but you are a great chief. I believe you will do something big when you
meet the boastful Blackfeet. White Otter, you say that Sun Bird and
Little Raven are your brothers. It is good. I will make you my son. My
son, the lodge of Rain Crow is open for you. I have spoken."
"Rain Crow, you are a great Medicine Person," replied White Otter. "You
have done some big things. I have heard my people talk about you. It is
true that Sun Bird and Little Raven are my brothers. You have called me
your son. It is a great thing. I feel good about it. I will tell my
people about it. It will make them feel big. My father, I will bring you
some ponies from the Blackfeet camp. I have finished."
Many other noted warriors made speeches praising the ability and courage
of the young Ogalala, and welcoming him to the Minneconjoux camp. When
the ceremony was finally concluded Sun Bird escorted White Otter to the
lodge of Rain Crow.
"Now I will tell you how the Blackfeet ran off all those ponies," Sun
Bird said, when they were alone.
"Yes, tell me about it," urged White Otter.
"We were dancing the Buffalo Dance," said Sun Bird. "My father was
singing the Medicine Songs. The people were sitting near the fire. The
fast war ponies were tied near the lodges, but many good hunting ponies
were out on the plain. We left them there because our scouts did not see
any signs of enemies. Only a few boys were watching those ponies. Well,
while the people were dancing and singing we heard a great noise. There
were many shouts. Then we heard many ponies running. Pretty soon a boy
rode into the village. He was shouting, 'The Blackfeet! The Blackfeet!
They have run off the ponies!' Then we jumped upon the war ponies, and
were going out to chase the Blackfeet, but Curly Horse held us back.
'Wait!' shouted Curly Horse. 'Perhaps it is a trick. Perhaps a great war
party is about to rush into the camp. We will watch, and see what comes
of it.' We knew that those were good words, and we waited to guard the
camp. Well, no one came. Then we knew that the Blackfeet had gone away
with the ponies. When it got light one of the boys came back. His pony
fell down and died when he came into the village. He rode a long ways to
get away from the Blackfeet. The other boy did not come back. The
Blackfeet must have carried him away."
"Who is he?" inquired White Otter.
"He is Dancing Rabbit," Sun Bird told him.
"His father was Lame Wolf. He was killed by our enemies, the Crows. His
mother fell into the water, and was carried away by the fierce Water
Monsters. Old Spotted Face is his grandfather. He feels very bad about
this thing."
"I know Spotted Face," said White Otter. "He is a great man. We must try
to help him."
"Perhaps we will find Dancing Rabbit in the Blackfeet camp," replied Sun
Bird.
The day had already ended, and as the evening shadows fell upon the camp
the Minneconjoux began preparations for the great war dance. A large
fire was lighted in the center of the village, and the entire tribe
assembled to honor the men who were going to fight the Blackfeet. The
warriors who had enlisted in the war party marched noisily about the
camp, singing their war songs, and shouting boastful threats against
their foes. As they finally approached the council fire they were
greeted with wild yells of approval from the great company who awaited
them. Then all subsided into respectful silence as Curly Horse and the
principal chiefs of the tribe walked solemnly into the council circle.
After the chief and his escort had taken positions, the warriors lined
up before him and waited for him to address them. He looked upon them
with pride and affection. Most of them were young men in the prime of
their youth, and their bold, flashing eyes and fearless faces proclaimed
their courage. They were led by Sun Bird who had organized the war
party. He called White Otter to stand beside him, and the Minneconjoux
murmured approval of the honor.
"My brothers, I see that you are ready for war," said Curly Horse. "You
are going to fight the Blackfeet. It is good. They are our enemies. They
have carried off many of our ponies. You must bring them back. You must
also bring some good Blackfeet ponies. Perhaps you will find Dancing
Rabbit in the Blackfeet camp. Then you must carry him away. Spotted Face
is waiting for him. I will not tell you how to fight. You are Dacotahs.
It is enough. Now I will ask Rain Crow to give you some words."
Before speaking, Rain Crow drew an ember from the fire and lighted the
sacred medicine pipe. Then he puffed the smoke toward the heavens,
toward the earth, and toward each of the four winds. He kept up a weird,
high-pitched chant, and tossed small handfuls of dried sweet grass into
the flames. It was evident that he was asking success for the war party,
and the Minneconjoux watched him with grave interest. When he had
completed the ceremony, he stood some time staring fixedly at the stars.
Then he addressed the war company.
"My friends, you have seen me smoke the great Medicine Pipe," he said.
"It is good. It will help you. I have asked Wakantunka, the Great
Mystery, to make you strong. I have asked the Good Spirits to help you.
I have asked the Bad Spirits to do you no harm. I believe everything
will be good. I believe you will overcome the Blackfeet. Listen, my
friends, I hear the noise of many ponies running. Yes, yes, those are
Sioux ponies. Yes, I hear some Blackfeet ponies. They are running toward
the Minneconjoux camp. I see these brave young men riding behind them."
His prophecy roused the Minneconjoux. Men, women and children united
their voices in the war cry of the Dacotahs. It rang through the camp,
and echoed off across the plain as a challenge to their foes. Rain Crow
laughed, and shook his clenched hand toward the north.
"Hi, you Blackfeet people, do you hear that noise?" he cried, excitedly.
"Pretty soon you will know what it means. Then you will shake, and cry
like young deer when they hear the wolf cry."
His words again threw the people into a frenzy of excitement. The war
cry again rang out across the plain, and before the sound had died away
the warriors had assembled for the war dance. They formed a large circle
about the fire, and stood awaiting the word from Sun Bird, their leader.
A number of aged men had come forward with the war drums, and taken
places near the dancers. A hush fell upon the vast assemblage, as the
Minneconjoux watched eagerly for the interesting spectacle to begin.
Then Sun Bird raised his voice in the familiar strains of the great war
song, and the dance began. Keeping time with the solemn, rhythmical
throbbing of the war drums, the dancers moved slowly about the fire
chanting the boastful words of the war song, and flourishing their
weapons. They had not circled many times about the fire, however, before
they cast off restraint, and flung themselves into ecstasies of the
dance with wild abandon. The war song was forgotten, as the dancers
began to shout their boasts and threats against the powerful foes in the
north. Each moment added to their excitement, and as the war drums
throbbed in shorter, quicker beats, the dancers quickened their steps to
hold the rhythm. Although each held his place in the circle, they had
abandoned all attempt to dance in unison, and each man was interpreting
the spirit of the dance to suit himself. All, however, kept time to the
beats of the war drums, and the droning chants of the aged musicians. As
quick and sinewy as mountain cats, the young warriors pranced about the
fire in a frenzy of enthusiasm. Each tried to surpass his fellows in the
mad antics of the dance, and their maneuvers brought yells of approval
from the fascinated onlookers. At one moment the dancers would stoop
near the ground, and dance forward with short, mincing steps, shading
their eyes with their hands, as if searching for the trail of their
foes. Then they would suddenly spring upright and announce their success
with a piercing whoop. A moment afterward they would leap forward with
war club raised to deliver the fatal stroke. Then they would begin a
wild dance about the fallen foe. Some of the older warriors carried
their coupsticks with the trophies won on former war expeditions. As
they danced they shook these priceless possessions before the envious
eyes of their tribesmen. Sometimes one of those dancers would drive his
coupstick in the ground while he and several companions danced wildly
about it, rushing up to touch it and reciting some great achievement as
they did so. Then all would suddenly stand transfixed in their places
while they raised their faces toward the stars, and united their voices
in the piercing Dacotah war cry.
The spectacle was weird and fascinating. The grotesque contortions of
the dancers in the lurid glare of the fire, the fierce expression on
their faces, the solemn throbbing of the war drums, the picturesque
assemblage of spectators, the dim, ghostly outlines of the lodges in the
shadows, the gaunt, wolf-like dogs skulking along the edge of the camp,
made a striking impression on the memory.
White Otter, as a famous war chief of the Ogalalas, was entitled to
stand with Curly Horse and the prominent men of the tribe. He declined
the honor, however, and took his place in the circle of dancers. The
Minneconjoux watched him with approving eyes as he threw himself into
the spirit of the dance. When the ceremony was finally brought to an end
toward daylight, Curly Horse called the Ogalala to his lodge.
"White Otter, you are a great warrior," said Curly Horse. "A great
warrior must have a good horse. The Pawnees have killed your war pony.
It is true that you have taken a good pony from those boastful people.
Well, you are a Dacotah, and you must ride a Dacotah pony. I am going to
give you one of my fastest ponies to ride to the Blackfeet camp. I have
spoken."
"Curly Horse, you have done a big thing," White Otter replied,
gratefully. "You are a great chief, and I know that you have the fastest
ponies. Yes, I will ride your pony to the Blackfeet camp."
"It is good," declared Curly Horse.
When White Otter told Sun Bird of the gift which he had received from
Curly Horse, Sun Bird beamed with pleasure. He believed that there were
few, if any, ponies in the entire Dacotah nation which possessed the
speed and endurance of those owned by the great Minneconjoux chief.
"Perhaps when you ride that horse you will leave me far behind," Sun
Bird said, banteringly.
"Well, my brother, if I get to the Blackfeet camp ahead of you I will
leave some Blackfeet for you to kill," laughed White Otter.