The girls and young men sat together in groups under the pine trees upon the surrounding heights.The dogs lay panting on the ground, too lazy even to growl at the white man.At the entrance of the meadow there was a cold spring among the rocks, completely overshadowed by tall trees and dense undergrowth.In this cold and shady retreat a number of girls were assembled, sitting together on rocks and fallen logs, discussing the latest gossip of the village, or laughing and throwing water with their hands at the intruding Meneaska.The minutes seemed lengthened into hours.I lay for a long time under a tree, studying the Ogallalla tongue, with the zealous instructions of my friend the Panther.When we were both tired of this I went and lay down by the side of a deep, clear pool formed by the water of the spring.A shoal of little fishes of about a pin's length were playing in it, sporting together, as it seemed, very amicably; but on closer observation, I saw that they were engaged in a cannibal warfare among themselves.Now and then a small one would fall a victim, and immediately disappear down the maw of his voracious conqueror.Every moment, however, the tyrant of the pool, a monster about three inches long, with staring goggle eyes, would slowly issue forth with quivering fins and tail from under the shelving bank.The small fry at this would suspend their hostilities, and scatter in a panic at the appearance of overwhelming force.
"Soft-hearted philanthropists," thought I, "may sigh long for their peaceful millennium; for from minnows up to men, life is an incessant battle."Evening approached at last, the tall mountain-tops around were still gay and bright in sunshine, while our deep glen was completely shadowed.I left the camp and ascended a neighboring hill, whose rocky summit commanded a wide view over the surrounding wilderness.
The sun was still glaring through the stiff pines on the ridge of the western mountain.In a moment he was gone, and as the landscape rapidly darkened, I turned again toward the village.As I descended the hill, the howling of wolves and the barking of foxes came up out of the dim woods from far and near.The camp was glowing with a multitude of fires, and alive with dusky naked figures, whose tall shadows flitted among the surroundings crags.
I found a circle of smokers seated in their usual place; that is, on the ground before the lodge of a certain warrior, who seemed to be generally known for his social qualities.I sat down to smoke a parting pipe with my savage friends.That day was the 1st of August, on which I had promised to meet Shaw at Fort Laramie.The Fort was less than two days' journey distant, and that my friend need not suffer anxiety on my account, I resolved to push forward as rapidly as possible to the place of meeting.I went to look after the Hail-Storm, and having found him, I offered him a handful of hawks'-bells and a paper of vermilion, on condition that he would guide me in the morning through the mountains within sight of Laramie Creek.
The Hail-Storm ejaculated "How!" and accepted the gift.Nothing more was said on either side; the matter was settled, and I lay down to sleep in Kongra-Tonga's lodge.
Long before daylight Raymond shook me by the shoulder.
"Everything is ready," he said.
