CHAPTER XXI.

  THE CAMP MOVES.

  It was two or three days after the conclusion of the ceremonies of theMedicine Lodge, when Jack, walking through the camp one morning, foundhimself face to face with Hezekiah. The negro had discarded the featherwhich he wore in his head when Jack had seen him last, and he was nowclad in leggings, a much worn cotton shirt and moccasins. He knew Jackat once and came up to him, shaking his hand most cordially.

  "Well," said he, "Master Jack, you got here all right, didn't you? Hopeyou didn't have no trouble on your way up. Didn't get captured by nobodyelse, did you?"

  "No," said Jack, laughing, "we got pretty well scared after you left us,and came near running onto two or three Indian camps, but we got aroundthem without being discovered and had no trouble at all. Hugh wassaying," he went on, "that you Piegans would be mighty sorry you hadn'tstayed with us, when we were travelling around among those camps, southof the Yellowstone. We didn't want anything of the people, but Hugh saidthat the war party would have given anything to have had such a chanceto take horses."

  "Bad luck," said Hezekiah, "we didn't see no enemies, and didn't makeno war and just came trailing in yesterday afternoon not having donenothing at all. I hear, though, that you done yourself mighty proud,Master Jack. The Indians were telling me last night that you killed anenemy that was trying to take horses from Fox Eye's camp, over to GrassyLakes, and that after you killed him you counted coup on him. That wasfine thing for you to have done, and all your friends are proud of you.

  "I don't know whether you know it, Master Jack, but you've got lots offriends in this camp; people here think a whole lot of you. First theylike you because you kinder belong to the old man, and then, because yousaved Little Plume's daughter from getting drownded, and now, becauseyou have shown that you're brave, even if you are so young and haven'tbeen long on the prairie."

  "Well, Hezekiah, I am mighty glad to hear you say that. I expect anybodyis glad if people like him, I know I am. Everybody in the camp is alwayskind and pleasant and smiling, they don't seem like the Indians I havealways read about. Those were always solemn and silent and gruff, anddidn't do anything but grunt; but those people here are just as pleasantas they can be and always laughing and joking, and doing kind things; Itell you they are as nice people as I ever want to be with."

  "Oh yes, they're good people, Master Jack," said Hezekiah, "I like 'emright well. Master Jack," he went on, "would you mind coming over to mylodge? I'd like to have you see my wife and my babies. I've got a nicefamily, sir! My wife, she is old Lone Person's girl; he is a chief ofone of the bands, you know; quite a great man."

  "Why, sure, I'll go, Hezekiah," said Jack; and the two walked over to alarge lodge not far off.

  Jack found Hezekiah's wife a neat pleasant-faced young woman, and thelodge was kept in very good order. Three odd little children, perfectnegroes in appearance, were playing about close at hand, and a tiny babywith great rolling eyes and tightly curling hair, was strapped to aboard and swinging to one of the lodge poles.

  After some conversation, Hezekiah hinted somewhat diffidently, that hewould be glad if Jack would eat with them, and Jack was very ready toaccept the invitation, which seemed to please both Hezekiah and hiswife. Jack passed a good part of the afternoon in the lodge, and when atlast he left it, made up his mind that he would try to see something ofHezekiah in the future.

  One afternoon, not very long after the Medicine Lodge was over, Jack wassitting in front of the lodge with Hugh, when he heard the distant voiceof the camp crier shouting out the news, as he rode about the circle ofthe lodges. He listened for a while, and as the man drew nearer and thesounds which he uttered grew more distinct, Jack turned to Hugh andasked him what the old man was saying.

  "Hold on a minute," said Hugh, "wait till he gets closer, I can't justhear all he says, but it is something about moving the camp, andbuffalo. I guess likely they are going to start." Presently, he added,"Yes, this is what he says: 'Listen, listen, everybody pay attention.To-morrow the camp will move. All the lodges must be taken down early.Everybody must pack up soon after sunrise. The camp will move toward theSweet Grass Hills. You men, get your horses close. You women, pack upyour things to-night, the chiefs have ordered to start early. Listen,listen, everybody pay attention.'"

  "Well," said Jack, "I am glad they are going. We have been here a longtime now, and I'll be glad to get out on the prairie again, and glad tosee the Indians chase buffalo. They'll do that, won't they, Hugh, whenthey get into the buffalo country?"

  "Lord, yes," said Hugh, "that's the only way they kill buffalo, exceptnow and then when they find one or two old bulls off by themselves, whenthey sometimes creep up to one, and kill him that way; but whenever theywant to make a big killing, to get meat and lodge skins for everybody,then they chase 'em."

  "Well, Hugh," said Jack, "how shall we do when the camp moves? Just packour animals and travel along with them?"

  "Yes," said Hugh, "I guess we may as well pack our animals, and thenwe'll let the old man's women drive them. They'd be glad to pack themtoo, but I'm afraid if they did, that first thing we knew, some of themhorses would get a sore back, and I don't want that to happen. You see,likely as not, we've got to travel down South with these horses again,and I mean to keep them in good order, so that they'll serve us whilegoing, just as they did when we came up here."

  "Why," said Jack, "it doesn't seem to me as if we ought to let thewomen pack the horses, that's man's work. Ain't it, Hugh?"

  "No," said Hugh, "not among Indians. Man's work, in an Indian camp, isto kill meat for food, and skins for clothing, and to go to war, so's toget rich and to make people think well of himself and his family, and todefend the camp. The woman's work is to look out for the lodge, to takecare of the children, to make the clothing and to see to the moving ofthe camp. It ain't so very different, you see, from what it is amongwhite folks. Take it among Indians, a man's business is hunting, andgoing to war. White men hunt for fun, but Indians don't. Indians hunt,so that they can live, just the same as any man in the States goes tohis store in the morning, and sells things all day so as to earn moneyto support his family."

  "Why no," said Jack, "it ain't so very different from what the white manand the white woman do. Is it?"

  "Not very," said Hugh. "Now, I'll tell you, son," he went on, "let'spack up most all our truck to-night, and get the packs ready to put onthe horses in the morning. Our horses will be driven in with the oldman's, and we can catch them and pack them, and leave them here for thewomen to drive on with theirs, and then we can either go ahead with thesoldiers, or if you like, you can stop in the camp, and see them takedown everything and begin to move."

  "I think I'd rather stay here and see them move, Hugh," said Jack. "Butwhat do you mean by the soldiers?"

  "Why, the soldiers," said Hugh, "are sort of constables like. I thoughtI'd told you about them. They're young men that are going to war all thetime, and they're the ones that see that the orders given by the chiefsare obeyed. It is like this; if there was any man to-morrow morning, whosaid he was not going to move, and whose lodge was not taken down, thesoldiers would go to him and if he were obstinate, just as like as notthey'd give him a good licking with their quirts. If he still refused togo with the camp, they might tear down his lodge, break the lodge polesand even cut the lodge-skins to pieces. It is a pretty serious matteryou see, to disobey the chief's orders, and really, 'tisn't ever done."

  After supper that night, Joe came to the lodge, and after a little talksaid to Jack, "Isn't this great, that we are going to move and going tochase buffalo?"

  "You bet it is great," said Jack. "You know I've never seen a buffalochase, and I've always thought it must be a fine thing to see."

  "I tell you," said Joe; "after they kill plenty of buffalo, everybody isglad. All through the camp they put up the drying scaffolds, and as themeat is brought in, they cut it into thin slices and hang it over thepoles, and for a little while it looks as if red cloth was stretched
allthrough the camp. Of course, after two or three hours, it gets dry andbrown, but when it is first put up, it is real pretty I tell you."

  "Well," said Jack, "I hope I'll see that. You can't think, Joe, how muchI want to find out everything about the Indians. Everything that theydo, and say, and think, is so different from anything I've ever seenbefore, that it just makes me pretty near crazy when I think what achance I've got here, and how little I've learned yet."

  "Oh well," said Joe, "you'll know a heap before you go away, but I don'twant you to know everything, because, then maybe you'd never come back.Suppose you go away this Fall, not knowing everything, maybe you'll comeback next Spring to learn the rest."

  "Well," said Jack, "I can't think of any better fun than to do justthat." After a minute he went on, "You've killed buffalo, Joe?"

  "Yes," said Joe, "a few, not many. I haven't got a good running horse,and so I never killed many chasing them. It takes a pretty good horse tocatch a cow. You've got two."

  "Well," said Jack, "I'll tell you what I'll do, the first chase we have,I'll let you ride my new horse, and I'll ride Pawnee; then maybe we'llboth have good luck."

  "That'll be good," said Joe. "Suppose I ride that new horse, I'm prettysure to have good luck."

  "Look here, son," broke in Hugh, who had been sitting near them, "you'llwant to have a lesson in buffalo running before you try it the firsttime. There's some things that a greenhorn has got to be told. Now, whenyou start to chase buffalo, you must ride right up close to the animalyou are trying to kill. You'll never kill any buffalo if you are afraidof them. Ride right up within two or three yards of a cow, and when youare about even with her hips, shoot at her, and try to hit her in theheart. You must remember what I've told you so many times, that youhave got to shoot low down to kill any animal, but at a buffalo, withits big hump, you've got to shoot lower down than most anything else.That's the great trouble most men have when they hunt buffalo the firsttime, they shoot too high, and the ball goes through the meat and don'thurt the buffalo a bit. If you'll remember those two things, to get upclose, and to shoot low down, you won't have any trouble about killingyour buffalo."

  The next morning when Jack looked out of the lodge, a great change hadcome over the camp. Many places, where lodges had stood the nightbefore, were now vacant. In other places only the conical frame work ofpoles was seen, and in others the women were just pulling away the lodgeskins, or in some cases were standing on a travois which leaned againstthe lodge, and were unpinning its front. The camp was full of horses,many of them tied to pins or bundles of baggage, or to travois, but manyothers were roaming loose through the circle. Jack had never before seenall the horses of the camp gathered together, and was astonished attheir numbers. All about the circle were piles of robes, bundles,saddles, cooking utensils, and other property which the women weregathering together, tying up, packing on the horses, or loading on thetravois.

  The scene was one of great activity, and the work that was being donewas not conducted in silence. There were colts that had lost theirmothers and were screaming shrilly, and mares were neighing for theirmissing colts. The camp dogs were in a state of high excitement, andwere barking or howling, or got in people's way, and when kicked out ofit, yelped dolefully. The little boys, who swarmed through the circle,were shouting, whooping, running races and wrestling. The women, worriedby the labour of packing and of looking after their children and theirhorses, called to each other with high pitched voices, and many of thebabies missing their mother's attention, added their cries to the babelwhich prevailed.

  Jack watched the scene for a little while, and then going back into thelodge, said, "Well, Hugh, I never expected to hear so much noise in thiscamp as there is this morning. Will they ever quiet down again? Thisisn't very much like the camp we have been in for the last three weeks."

  "No," said Hugh, "the first day that camp is broken after a long stop inany one place, they make quite a racket. You'll see, though, that whenthey move to-morrow, things will go a good deal more smoothly. Now, assoon as we've finished eating," he went on, "let's catch up our horsesand pack them, and tie them up here with old John's. Then I'm going onahead with the old men, and if you want to, you can stop here as long asyou like; only, if I were you, I wouldn't wander away from the columnvery much. You see, now we are going out on to the prairie, where thereis more danger of meeting enemies, and I wouldn't go off alone at all.Get Joe to go with you, or go with some little party of two or threemen, or ask me and I'll ride with you wherever you want me to."

  "All right," said Jack, "I'll remember. I've seen enemies enough for alittle while, and I don't want to run onto any more of 'em."

  It did not take them long to catch and pack their horses. Jack tied uphis new riding-horse with the pack-animals, and John Monroe's wife saidthat she would see that they were all driven on. Then Hugh started offto join the head of the column which had already begun to cross theriver, while Jack mounted Pawnee, and rode about through the camp. Itwas very amusing to him to watch the various operations that were goingon. Women were constantly completing the work of packing and startingoff with their families, to follow those who had gone on before, so thatthere was a continuous stream of people heading toward the river,entering it, crossing and clambering out on the other side. The trailclimbed a steep bluff there, and the long line of people that followedit, made Jack think of a brightly coloured serpent slowly making its wayup the hillside.

  At last he tired of the scenes of the camp, and riding to the river,joined the procession that was crossing it. Once on the other side, heturned Pawnee out of the trail, and rode on rapidly toward the head ofthe column where he joined Hugh. Twenty-five or thirty old andmiddle-aged men were in the lead, and behind them rode more than ahundred young men on fine horses, handsomely dressed, and well armed. Afew of them carried rifles; many others double-barrel shot-guns, but agreat many were provided only with bows and arrows which they nowcarried in cases on their backs.

  "Oh! Hugh," said Jack, as he rode up, "are these young men here thesoldiers?"

  "Yes," said Hugh, "they're the soldiers. They all belong to one of thesecret societies, the Mut'siks, that means brave. As I was saying toyou last night, if the chiefs want anything done they tell these youngfellows to have it done. There's quite a long story about thesedifferent secret societies, and some night when we have plenty of time,we'll have to get some of the old men to tell us these stories. You see,usually, they don't talk much about these things to white folks, butI've heard 'most all the stories, and likely they wouldn't mind tellingthem to you. You see, one reason an Indian don't like to talk aboutsacred things to white men, is, that he's afraid the white man willlaugh at him, but of course they know you wouldn't do that any more thanI would."

  "I should think not," said Jack, "I'd be so pleased to hear anythingthat they were willing to tell me, that I don't think I'd laugh at iteven if it were real funny."

  "No," said Hugh, "of course you oughtn't to. Of course, some of thesethings that the Indians believe sound ridiculous to us white folks, butthey're mighty real to them, and they believe in them just as we believein a whole lot of things that likely would sound mighty ridiculous tothem. Some of them bible stories for example. You couldn't get an Indianto believe them, and yet white folks think it's all so."

  "You mean the miracles?" said Jack.

  "Yes, I expect that's it."

  After a little pause Jack asked Hugh, "What are those men doing that Isee crossing the hills ahead of us, Hugh?"

  "Why," said Hugh, "those are young men and boys that are out huntingthrough the brush to kill anything that's there before the camp getsalong, and scares everything. We're likely to stop before we've gonemuch further, and to wait for the column to close up. Then those youngfellows will get quite a-ways ahead. Of course, they'll kill any gamethat they might come across, and then too, they will scout the countryfor any enemies that might be about."

  Hugh had hardly stopped speaking, when the old men drew in their horse
s,and dismounting, sat down in a circle on the ground, and the soldierstoo got off their horses and the people behind them stopped. Pipes werefilled and were passed from hand to hand. "What are they waiting for,Hugh?" said Jack.

  "Why, you see, son," said the old man, "there's always a lot of peoplethat are late leaving the camp, and they have stopped here to let suchpeople catch up, so that the column won't be scattered out too far.Sometimes it happens if they straggle too much, that a little war partymay dash down onto the column, and kill two or three women and then rideoff again before anybody can get near enough to punish them."

  After half an hour's rest, the march was taken up again and before long,the last hill was climbed, and the camp moved forward along an openridge that led toward the prairie. From time to time the trail passedthrough scattering patches of aspen or through a point of pine timberrunning down from the mountains, but by the middle of the afternoon,they had left the mountains well behind them, and a little later, theycamped in the open valley of a branch of the Milk River. It surprisedJack to see how speedily the lodges were erected and how short a time ittook this unorganized mob of people to settle down into the ordinaryroutine of camp life.

  For several days the village moved eastward, crossing the Milk River,and at last, one night, they camped near the base of the Sweet GrassHills. Ever since leaving the mountains, buffalo had been in sight. Atfirst only an occasional individual, then small groups of three or fourbulls, later little herds. But here, at the base of the Sweet GrassHills, they were abundant, and from an elevation the prairie was seen tobe dotted with them, almost as far as the eye could reach. On the marcha few buffalo had been killed by men who had stolen up to them quietly;but no one had chased buffalo, for the chiefs had given strict ordersagainst it.