THE PIEGAN CAMP.
"There's the camp," said Hugh, half turning in his saddle, as he drew up
his horse on top of the hill. Jack turned Pawnee out of the trail, and
trotted by the pack horses, and when he reached Hugh's side, he looked
down on the first Indian camp he had ever seen. At the foot of the long
hill before them flowed a broad river, and on the wide flat beyond it
stood a great circle of lodges, stretching up and down the stream, and
reaching almost over to the farther bluffs.
"It's a big camp," said Hugh; "all the Piegans must be there."
"Why, Hugh," said Jack, "there must be an awful lot of people in all
those tents."
"Yes," said Hugh, "there's quite a lot of 'em, and I expect, from the
way the camp looks, that maybe there's more than just the Piegans. There
must be some Bloods and Blackfeet with them. Now you can see what a camp
really looks like. It's only once in a while that the people all get
together like this. I expect maybe they're getting ready to hold the
medicine lodge; that'll come right soon now; about the time that the
berries are ripe. That's the biggest time these people have, and I
expect if we're here when they hold it this year, you'll like it. There
ain't many white people has ever seen a Blackfoot medicine lodge, and if
you see one you'll be in big luck."
"I hope I will," said Jack. "I don't know what it is, but I want to find
out everything about how these people live, and I want to try to
remember everything that I see. Now, most of the lodges stand in a
circle, but there are some of them inside the circle; what does that
mean, Hugh? What are those for?"
"Well, you see that big lodge nearly in the middle of the circle?" said
Hugh; "that's the head chief's lodge. He stops there. And then those two
smaller ones on either side of it, pretty well over toward the other
lodges, they belong to the secret societies, that they call, 'All
Friends.'"
"Secret societies! You must be joking, Hugh; they don't have secret
societies among the Indians, do they?"
"They surely do," answered Hugh. "There's about a dozen or fifteen
societies of men. A man starts in when he's only a boy, not much bigger
than you are, and he keeps going along from one society to another,
until he gets to be a middle-aged man; until he begins to be old. The
men that are warriors, going to war all the time--young fellows with
lots of ambition--they mostly belong to what they call the brave
society; Mût'siks, they call it. You'll hear all about them societies
if you stop long in the camp; but the brave society is about the most
important; and that, and two or three of the others, are what we call
the 'soldier bands'; they're kind o' like constables. If the chiefs
order anything done, and the people don't do it, they tell some of
these bands of the 'All Friends' to make 'em do it, and they just have
to. Sometimes, if a man's right stubborn, the soldiers'll quirt him, or
they'll break his lodge poles, or cut his lodge to pieces, or even kill
his horses. Most folks think that each Indian does what he likes; but
you can bet it ain't so. And if you'll just think about it a little bit,
you'll see it couldn't be so. These people have got to live together,
and they couldn't live together comfortably if every man was doing just
what he wanted to, and didn't pay no attention to what was good for
other people. Now suppose there was a bunch of buffalo close to the
camp, and a man found 'em, and started in to run 'em, and kill a lot of
meat for himself; he might scare the buffalo, and run 'em all out of the
country, so that the other people in the camp couldn't get any for
themselves. That is just one way where one man might do a whole lot of
harm to everybody in the camp. These people have laws, just like white
folks do, and they have to obey the laws too, you bet. Well, let's go on
down to the camp. You start them pack horses ahead, and we'll go down to
the ford; it runs kind of slanting, and we've got to stick to the bar,
without we want to swim."
"Hold on a minute, Hugh," said Jack; "what are those things there, that
those horses are dragging?" Several riders had just appeared around a
point of the bluffs, close to the river bank, and were entering the
water to cross to the camp. Behind each horse followed a pile of wood,
supported on two sticks which the animal was dragging. Almost every
horse bore a rider. "Why," said Hugh, "that's a lot of women coming in
with their wood. Don't you see each horse is dragging a travois, with a
load of sticks and brush on it?"
"Oh, are those travois? I want to see how they're fixed on the horses.
They are a good deal like our wagons, aren't they? Only they haven't any
wheels," said Jack.
"Yes," said Hugh, "that's the Indians' cart. There, you see the way that
first woman is pointing? You see, she doesn't go straight across the
river; she goes slantways down the stream. There's a big bar runs across
there, where the water isn't much more than up to a horse's belly; the
bar's narrow, and on either side, it's swimming water; so when you cross
here, you have to stick to that gravel bar."
By this time all the women had ridden into the water, and were crossing.
Hugh started down the hill toward the point where they had entered the
stream, and Jack drove the pack horses close after him. When they were
part way down the hill, two more women made their appearance, and riding
down the narrow ravine, along which the trail ran, entered the water.
Hugh and Jack were not far behind them, and saw them stop a little way
from the bank, to let their horses drink. They were near enough to see
that the first one was a middle-aged woman, and the last, who was nearer
to them, was a young girl.
Just before Jack and Hugh reached the water's edge, they heard behind
them the thunder of many hoofs, and suddenly--driven by two Indian
boys--there poured over the bank, almost on top of them, a great band
of horses, rushing forward at top speed, the younger ones bounding and
plunging, with heads and tails in the air, nipping at each other, and
lashing out with their heels in play. The leading horses, when they saw
the men and the pack train, tried to stop, but they were pushed forward
by the throng behind, and obliged to keep on, but the herd separated,
and rushed down to the ford on either side of Jack, whose pack horses,
tired as they were, threw up their heads and seemed to want to join in
the race. The band of horses came together again, just in front of Hugh,
and streamed down the trail into the water, and along the bar. The
leading ones galloped across, toward the older woman, who, Jack saw, was
screaming and motioning with her hands. This stopped the horses in
front, but not those behind, which continued to rush into the river,
crowding and pushing, at first against each other, and soon against the
horse ridden by the girl. She was striking at them with her quirt, but
they could not get away from her, on account of those that followed, and
in a moment Jack saw them crowd against the horse on which the girl sat,
which was being pushed into deeper and deeper water.
It was exciting to watch, and Jack felt afraid that the girl might be
knocked off into deep water and drowned. Without thinking of his pack
horses, he galloped to the water's edge. The loose horses immediately in
front of him started again, and then the whole bunch made a rush for the
other bank. There was a confused struggle, and, to his dismay, he saw
the old travois horse run against by some of the other horses, and
knocked down into the deep water, and the girl and travois horse both
disappeared. He heard Hugh call to him, "Ride in and swim for her!" and
closing his legs about Pawnee, he galloped him through the shallow
water, and in a moment the good horse was swimming over where the girl
had disappeared. Jack saw the old horse, still followed by its load of
wood, striking out bravely for the other bank, but where was the girl?
In a moment he caught a gleam of something white in the water, and
almost at the same instant her struggling form appeared. She was just
ahead of Pawnee, and a light pressure on the right hand rein, turned the
horse so that he swam close beside her, and Jack, reaching over, caught
her by the shoulder of her buckskin dress, and pulled her toward him.
As soon as her head was above water she reached out and grasped the horn
of his saddle, and then, after resting a moment, drew herself close to
the horse, and, helped by Jack, clambered up behind him. By the time she
was seated, they were half way across the river, and now Jack did not
know whether to guide his horse toward the other bank, or to swim back
to the bar. The double weight made Pawnee swim low in the water, but his
head was stretched out, his nostrils were well above the surface, and he
struck out strongly--as Hugh said afterwards--"like a loon chasing
shiners." The question as to which way he should go was soon decided,
for in a moment or two the horse's hoofs touched bottom, and he climbed
up the rapidly shoaling side of the bar.
[Illustration: "SHE REACHED OUT AND GRASPED THE HORN OF HIS
SADDLE."--_Page 138_]
During all this time Jack had not looked about him very much; he had
been thinking how he should get hold of the girl, and then, how he
should get to shore. If he had looked, he would have seen the girl's
mother sitting on her horse, near the bank where the camp stood,
scanning the water just ahead of him, and twisting her hands, but
uttering no word. He would have seen Hugh gallop into the water,
followed by the pack horses, and ride off the bar, not very far behind
him, and then, when Jack got the girl, ride back to the bar and go on
toward the other shore.
Now, when Jack was on the bar once more, he saw just before him, the old
woman sitting looking at him, and, hearing a splashing in the water
behind, he looked around and saw Hugh following.
"Is the girl hurt?" called Hugh.
"I don't know," answered Jack, "I didn't think to ask her. Are you hurt,
little girl?" he added, twisting in his saddle, so that he could look
into her face. As he did so he saw that blood was trickling down over
her forehead. She did not answer him, but shook her head.
In a moment more he stopped by the woman, who reached out her hand and
took hold of the girl's arm, and spoke to her; but of course Jack did
not understand what she said, though he felt that the girl shook her
head. Then Hugh, who had come up, spoke to the woman in the Indian
tongue. She replied, and after a moment's conversation, Hugh said to
Jack, "Ride after the old woman, son; we will camp at her lodge
to-night. I know her husband right well; he is a relation of old John
Monroe's. You're in pretty good luck that you fished that girl out of
the river the way you did. You'll surely be thought a heap of in this
camp. She's Little Plume's daughter. He's an awful good man, a great
warrior and a chief, and there won't be anything too good for you in
this camp as long as you're here. I expect the little girl hurt her head
when she rolled off that horse, but I reckon it ain't nothing but a
little cut." He spoke to the girl, who did not answer him, but her
mother spoke for her and Hugh said, "No, she ain't hurt a mite." By this
time they had ridden up on the bank, and were entering the circle of the
camp. Jack looked about him with the greatest interest, and forgot that
he was wet, cold and shivering.
The lodges were great broad cones, and each one ended above in a sheaf
of crossing lodge poles. Beneath where the lodge poles crossed, on one
side, there was a dark opening from which smoke poured out, and on
either side of this opening, stretched out a sort of three-cornered sail
or wing. Near the ground, the skins, which covered the lodges were
yellow or gray, but toward the top they grew darker, and some of them
were dark brown. Some of the lodges had great patches on them, as if
they had been mended. Some were ornamented with curious figures. Over
the door of one was painted the black head of a buffalo cow. On another
there was the figure of an elk. About yet another was a broad band of
red, on which a procession of black birds seemed to be marching round
the lodge. From the points of the wings of many lodges, hung buffalo
tails, and sometimes great bunches of this black hair ran down from the
smoke hole to the door. Scattered about through the camp were many
people, busy about many different tasks. Groups of men smoked together.
Women were busy hammering on stones. Here and there men sat by
themselves, working with knives or other tools, at sticks of different
sorts. On the ground were hides, over which women were bending.
All these things Jack saw, but did not very well comprehend. Meantime
they had crossed the circle and approached a large lodge, near which two
women were busy, with whom were two or three little children, and by the
lodge stood an old horse with a travois, on which there was a load of
wet and dripping wood. The woman Jack was following called in shrill
tones to the others, and as Jack stopped, they hurried up to him, lifted
the girl from his horse, and took her into the lodge. The woman motioned
for him to dismount, and at the same moment the pack horses came up,
driven by Hugh.
Jack was glad to get his feet on the ground once more, and to stamp
about a little to get warm. Hugh said to him, "Go inside, if you like,
son, and get close to the fire; you must be cold."
"No," said Jack, "I'll help you unpack first. I'll get warm sooner if
I'm working."
"I believe you will," said Hugh; "that's pretty good sense. It won't
take us long to get these packs off." Nor did it. In a very few minutes
the horses' loads were piled up outside the lodge door, the pack horses
turned loose, and the saddle horses tied to pins driven in the ground
near the lodge. Then Hugh and Jack went inside.
There was a bright, warm fire there, evidently just built up, and Jack,
who in entering had hit his head against the top of the doorway, was
about to step up to it and warm his hands, when Hugh laid his hand on
his shoulder and guided him to the right as they went in, and pressed
him to the ground, and both sat down near the door. The woman spoke up
quickly, in a voice as if she were finding fault, and motioned toward
the back of the lodge, and Hugh rose and led Jack around, almost
opposite the door, where they again sat down. "Now, son," said Hugh,
"take off your shoes and all your outside things, and try to get dry.
After we've set here a minute or two, maybe I'll go out and open one of
the packs, and see if I can get you some dry clothes." He spoke to the
woman for a moment, and then turning to Jack, said, "She says she wants
us to stop here until her husband gets back. He and John Monroe went off
early this morning, up the creek, to try to get some deer skins. Pretty
soon now they'll be back. She says that even if you do go to stop with
John Monroe, she wants you to sleep to-night in this lodge, so that her
husband can see you and talk to you. She says he will not forget that
you pulled his little girl out of the water. She thinks you are a good
boy. You acted quick. When you grow up you will be a good man and brave.
If you go to war you will have good luck."
Jack felt rather embarrassed. "Do you mean to say that she said all
those things about me?" he asked.
"Yes," said Hugh, "that's just what she said."
"Well," said Jack, "of course I'm awful glad I pulled the little girl
out of the water, but anybody else would have done it just the same, and
if I hadn't, why you were right there and would have done it, I expect,
a good deal quicker than I did."
"Well," said Hugh, "maybe I might, but you're the one that did it, that
makes the difference, and I expect that woman, and her man, too, will be
mighty grateful to you. What is more, they'll talk about it all through
the camp, and you'll see that everybody here will have a good word and a
pleasant smile for you to-morrow."
Jack had taken off most of his wet things, and had thrown them on the
ground beside him, and now the woman came over to where he was, holding
a great, soft buffalo robe, which, with a laugh, she threw around him,
almost covering him up. Then she went back, and in a moment threw across
the lodge to him a pair of boy's moccasins and a pair of leggings. Then
she went out of the lodge.
"Now," said Hugh, "take off all your things, put on them leggings and
moccasins, and set here by the fire with that robe around you. The woman
will hang up your things, and they'll be dry in a little while, and then
you can dress again if you want to. I'm going out now to look after the
horses, and maybe to look around the camp. Or, if you like, I'll just
see after the horses, and then come back, and when you're dressed we'll
go around the camp together."
"I'd like that best of all, Hugh, if you don't mind waiting. I suppose
you've got a lot of friends in the camp you'd like to see."
"Yes," said Hugh, "I expect I have, but there ain't no great hurry.
I'll have plenty of time to see them and visit with them;" and he went
out.