-Tatonka had died, the people had been like children
that did not know their own minds. They were no better than a body
without a head. So I, as well as the Indians themselves, fell asleep
that night without knowing whether we should set out in the morning
toward the country of the Snakes.

At daybreak, however, as I was coming up from the river after my
morning's ablutions, I saw that a movement was contemplated. Some of the
lodges were reduced to nothing but bare skeletons of poles; the leather
covering of others was flapping in the wind as the squaws were pulling
it off. One or two chiefs of note had resolved, it seemed, on moving;
and so having set their squaws at work, the example was tacitly followed
by the rest of the village. One by one the lodges were sinking down in
rapid succession, and where the great circle of the village had been
only a moment before, nothing now remained but a ring of horses and
Indians, crowded in confusion together. The ruins of the lodges were
spread over the ground, together with kettles, stone mallets, great
ladles of horn, buffalo robes, and cases of painted hide, filled with
dried meat. Squaws bustled about in their busy preparations, the old
hags screaming to one another at the stretch of their leathern lungs.
The shaggy horses were patiently standing while the lodge-poles were
lashed to their sides, and the baggage piled upon their backs. The dogs,
with their tongues lolling out, lay lazily panting, and waiting for the
time of departure. Each warrior sat on the ground by the decaying embers
of his fire, unmoved amid all the confusion, while he held in his hand
the long trail-rope of his horse.

As their preparations were completed, each family moved off the ground.
The crowd was rapidly melting away. I could see them crossing the river,
and passing in quick succession along the profile of the hill on the
farther bank. When all were gone, I mounted and set out after them,
followed by Raymond, and as we gained the summit, the whole village
came in view at once, straggling away for a mile or more over the barren
plains before us. Everywhere the iron points of lances were glittering.
The sun never shone upon a more strange array. Here were the heavy-laden
pack horses, some wretched old women leading them, and two or three
children clinging to their backs. Here were mules or ponies covered from
head to tail with gaudy trappings, and mounted by some gay young squaw,
grinning bashfulne