His relatives occupied but a contemptible position in Ogallalla society; for among those wild democrats of the prairie, as among us, there are virtual distinctions of rank and place; though this great advantage they have over us, that wealth has no part in determining such distinctions.Moran's partner was not the most beautiful of her sex, and he had the exceedingly bad taste to array her in an old calico gown bought from an emigrant woman, instead of the neat and graceful tunic of whitened deerskin worn ordinarily by the squaws.
The moving spirit of the establishment, in more senses than one, was a hideous old hag of eighty.Human imagination never conceived hobgoblin or witch more ugly than she.You could count all her ribs through the wrinkles of the leathery skin that covered them.Her withered face more resembled an old skull than the countenance of a living being, even to the hollow, darkened sockets, at the bottom of which glittered her little black eyes.Her arms had dwindled away into nothing but whipcord and wire.Her hair, half black, half gray, hung in total neglect nearly to the ground, and her sole garment consisted of the remnant of a discarded buffalo robe tied round her waist with a string of hide.Yet the old squaw's meager anatomy was wonderfully strong.She pitched the lodge, packed the horses, and did the hardest labor of the camp.From morning till night she bustled about the lodge, screaming like a screech-owl when anything displeased her.Then there was her brother, a "medicine-man," or magician, equally gaunt and sinewy with herself.His mouth spread from ear to ear, and his appetite, as we had full occasion to learn, was ravenous in proportion.The other inmates of the lodge were a young bride and bridegroom; the latter one of those idle, good-for nothing fellows who infest an Indian village as well as more civilized communities.He was fit neither for hunting nor for war;and one might infer as much from the stolid unmeaning expression of his face.The happy pair had just entered upon the honeymoon.They would stretch a buffalo robe upon poles, so as to protect them from the fierce rays of the sun, and spreading beneath this rough canopy a luxuriant couch of furs, would sit affectionately side by side for half the day, though I could not discover that much conversation passed between them.Probably they had nothing to say; for an Indian's supply of topics for conversation is far from being copious.
There were half a dozen children, too, playing and whooping about the camp, shooting birds with little bows and arrows, or making miniature lodges of sticks, as children of a different complexion build houses of blocks.
A day passed, and Indians began rapidly to come in.Parties of two or three or more would ride up and silently seat themselves on the grass.The fourth day came at last, when about noon horsemen suddenly appeared into view on the summit of the neighboring ridge.
They descended, and behind them followed a wild procession, hurrying in haste and disorder down the hill and over the plain below; horses, mules, and dogs, heavily burdened travaux, mounted warriors, squaws walking amid the throng, and a host of children.For a full half-hour they continued to pour down; and keeping directly to the bend of the stream, within a furlong of us, they soon assembled there, a dark and confused throng, until, as if by magic, 150 tall lodges sprung up.On a sudden the lonely plain was transformed into the site of a miniature city.Countless horses were soon grazing over the meadows around us, and the whole prairie was animated by restless figures careening on horseback, or sedately stalking in their long white robes.The Whirlwind was come at last! One question yet remained to be answered: "Will he go to the war, in order that we, with so respectable an escort, may pass over to the somewhat perilous rendezvous at La Bonte's Camp?"Still this remained in doubt.Characteristic indecision perplexed their councils.Indians cannot act in large bodies.Though their object be of the highest importance, they cannot combine to attain it by a series of connected efforts.King Philip, Pontiac, and Tecumseh all felt this to their cost.The Ogallalla once had a war chief who could control them; but he was dead, and now they were left to the sway of their own unsteady impulses.
This Indian village and its inhabitants will hold a prominent place in the rest of the narrative, and perhaps it may not be amiss to glance for an instant at the savage people of which they form a part.
The Dakota (I prefer this national designation to the unmeaning French name, Sioux) range over a vast territory, from the river St.
