University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

In the preparations for the deer hunt, the ball-play has
been forgotten. The women are putting together what will
be necessary for their comfort during their absence, and the
men are examining their guns and bows and arrows. The
young girls anticipate amusement and happiness, for they
will assist their lovers to bring in the deer to the camp; and
the jest and merry laugh, and the words of love are spoken
too. The ball-play has been forgotten by all but Harpstenah.

But it is late in the afternoon; and as they do not start
till the morning, something must be done to pass the long
evening. “If this were full,” said a young hunter, kicking
at the same time an empty keg that had once contained
whiskey, “if this were full, we would have a merry night
of it.”

“Yes,” said Grey Iron, whose age seemed to have brought
him wisdom, “the night would be merry, but where would
you be the day after. Did you not, after drinking that
very whiskey, strike a white woman, for which you were
taken to the fort by the soldiers, and kept as a prisoner?”

The young man's look of mortification at this reproof
did not save him from the contemptuous sneer of his companions,
for all despise the Dahcotah who has thus been
punished. No act of bravery can wipe away his disgrace.

But Wenona sat pale and sad in her brother's wigwam.
The bright and happy looks of yesterday were all gone.
Her sister-in-law has hushed her child to sleep, and she is
resting from the fatigues of the day. Several old men,
friends of Little Crow's father, are sitting round the fire;
one has fallen asleep, while the others talk of the wonderful
powers of their sacred medicine.

“Why are you sad, Wenona,” said the chief, turning
to her; “why should the eyes of a chief's sister be filled
with tears, and her looks bent on the ground?”

“You need not ask why I am not happy,” said Wenona:
“Red Cloud brought presents to you yesterday; he
laid them at the door of your wigwam. He wants to buy
me, and you have received his gifts; why do you not return
them? you know I do not love him.”

“Red Cloud is a great warrior,” replied the chief; “he
wears many feathers of honor; you must marry him.”

The girl wrapped herself in her blanket and lay down.
For a time her sighs were heard—but at length sleep came
to her relief, and her grief was forgotten in dreams. But
morn has come and they are to make an early start. Was

ever such confusion? Look at that old hag knocking the
very senses out of her daughter's head because she is not
ready! and the girl, in order to avoid the blows, stumbles
over an unfortunate dog, who commences a horrible barking
and whining, tempting all the dogs of the village to out-bark
and outwhine him.

There goes “White Buffalo” with his two wives, the first
wife with the teepee on her back and her child on the top of it.
No wonder she looks so cross, for the second wife walks
leisurely on. Now is her time, but let her beware! for
White Buffalo is thinking seriously of taking a third.

But they are all off at last. Mothers with children, and
corn, and teepees, and children with dogs on their backs.
They are all gone, and the village looks desolate and forsaken.