e edge of the trees. Bisonette soon
invited us to a feast, and we suffered abundance of the same sort of
attention from his Indian associates. The reader may possibly recollect
that when I joined the Indian village, beyond the Black Hills, I found
that a few families were absent, having declined to pass the mountains
along with the rest. The Indians in Bisonette's camp consisted of these
very families, and many of them came to me that evening to inquire after
their relatives and friends. They were not a little mortified to learn
that while they, from their own timidity and indolence, were almost in
a starving condition, the rest of the village had provided their lodges
for the next season, laid in a great stock of provisions, and were
living in abundance and luxury. Bisonette's companions had been
sustaining themselves for some time on wild cherries, which the squaws
pounded up, stones and all, and spread on buffalo robes, to dry in the
sun; they were then eaten without further preparation, or used as an
ingredient in various delectable compounds.

On the next day the camp was in commotion with a new arrival. A single
Indian had come with his family the whole way from the Arkansas. As he
passed among the lodges he put on an expression of unusual dignity and
importance, and gave out that he had brought great news to tell the
whites. Soon after the squaws had erected his lodge, he sent his little
son to invite all the white men, and all the most distinguished Indians,
to a feast. The guests arrived and sat wedged together, shoulder to
shoulder, within the hot and suffocating lodge. The Stabber, for that
was our entertainer's name, had killed an old buffalo bull on his way.
This veteran's boiled tripe, tougher than leather, formed the main item
of the repast. For the rest, it consisted of wild cherries and grease
boiled together in a large copper kettle. The feast was distributed, and
for a moment all was silent, strenuous exertion; then each guest, with
one or two exceptions, however, turned his wooden dish bottom upward to
prove that he had done full justice to his entertainer's hospitality.
The Stabber next produced his chopping board, on which he prepared the
mixture for smoking, and filled several pipes, which circulated among
the company. This done, he seated himself upright on his couch, and
began with much gesticulation to tell his story. I will not repeat
his childish jargon. It was so entangled, like the greater p