seemed brilliant and smiling, but
the Sioux were mourning and wailing for the death of one who had been
an object of ridicule during most of his life. They appreciated the part
that Slow Dog had played in this last event, and his memory was honored
by all the tribe.

V. An Adventurous Journey

IT must now be about thirty years since our long journey in search of
new hunting-grounds, from the Assiniboine river to the Upper Missouri.
The buffalo, formerly so abundant between the two rivers, had begun to
shun their usual haunts, on account of the great numbers of Canadian
halfbreeds in that part of the country. There was also the first influx
of English sportsmen, whose wholesale methods of destruction wrought
such havoc with the herds. These seemingly intelligent animals correctly
prophesied to the natives the approach of the pale-face.

As we had anticipated, we found game very scarce as we travelled slowly
across the vast plains. There were only herds of antelope and sometimes
flocks of waterfowl, with here and there a lonely bull straggling
aimlessly along. At first our party was small, but as we proceeded
on our way we fell in with some of the western bands of Sioux and
Assiniboines, who are close connections.

Each day the camp was raised and marched from ten to twenty miles.
One might wonder how such a cavalcade would look in motion. The only
vehicles were the primitive travaux drawn by ponies and large Esquimaux
dogs. These are merely a pair of shafts fastened on either side of the
animal, and trailing on the ground behind. A large basket suspended
between the poles, just above the ground, supplied a place for goods and
a safe nest for the babies, or an occasional helpless old woman. Most of
our effects were carried by pack ponies; and an Indian packer excels all
others in quickness and dexterity.

The train was nearly a mile long, headed by a number of old warriors on
foot, who carried the filled pipe, and decided when and where to stop.
A very warm day made much trouble for the women who had charge of the
moving household. The pack dogs were especially unmanageable. They
would become very thirsty and run into the water with their loads. The
scolding of the women, the singing of the old men and the yelps of the
Indian dudes made our progress a noisy one, and like that of a town in
motion rather than an ordinary company of travelers.

This journey of ours was not without its exciting episodes. My uncle