named McCluskey, I saw
a strange Indian leaning against the side of the gate. He was a tall,
strong man, with heavy features.

"Who is he?" I asked. "That's The Whirlwind," said McCluskey. "He is the
fellow that made all this stir about the war. It's always the way with
the Sioux; they never stop cutting each other's throats; it's all they
are fit for; instead of sitting in their lodges, and getting robes to
trade with us in the winter. If this war goes on, we'll make a poor
trade of it next season, I reckon."

And this was the opinion of all the traders, who were vehemently opposed
to the war, from the serious injury that it must occasion to their
interests. The Whirlwind left his village the day before to make a visit
to the fort. His warlike ardor had abated not a little since he
first conceived the design of avenging his son's death. The long and
complicated preparations for the expedition were too much for his
fickle, inconstant disposition. That morning Bordeaux fastened upon him,
made him presents and told him that if he went to war he would destroy
his horses and kill no buffalo to trade with the white men; in short,
that he was a fool to think of such a thing, and had better make up his
mind to sit quietly in his lodge and smoke his pipe, like a wise man.
The Whirlwind's purpose was evidently shaken; he had become tired, like
a child, of his favorite plan. Bordeaux exultingly predicted that he
would not go to war. My philanthropy at that time was no match for my
curiosity, and I was vexed at the possibility that after all I might
lose the rare opportunity of seeing the formidable ceremonies of
war. The Whirlwind, however, had merely thrown the firebrand; the
conflagration was become general. All the western bands of the Dakota
were bent on war; and as I heard from McCluskey, six large villages
already gathered on a little stream, forty miles distant, were daily
calling to the Great Spirit to aid them in their enterprise. McCluskey
had just left and represented them as on their way to La Bonte's Camp,
which they would reach in a week, UNLESS THEY SHOULD LEARN THAT THERE
WERE NO BUFFALO THERE. I did not like this condition, for buffalo
this season were rare in the neighborhood. There were also the two
Minnicongew villages that I mentioned before; but about noon, an Indian
came from Richard's Fort with the news that they were quarreling,
breaking up, and dispersing. So much for the whisky of the emigrants!
Find