The rifle was instantly restored, and then our hunters rode off with the Indians towards their camp. On the way they met hundreds of v/omen and children going to the scene of the great hunt, for it was their special duty to cut up the meat and carry it into the camp. The men, considering that they had done enough, returned to smoke and eat away the fatigues of the chase.
As they rode along, Dick Varley observed that some of the “braves,” as Indian warriors are styled, were eating pieces of the bloody livers of the buffaloes in a raw state, at which he expressed not a little disgust.
“Ah, boy! you’re green yet,” remarked Joe Blunt in an undertone. “Mayhap ye’ll be thankful to do that same yerself some day.”
“Well, I’ll not refuse to try when it is needful,” said Dick with a laugh; “meanwhile I’m content to see the Redskins do it, Joe Blunt.”
Chapter VIII.—How Dick won the Race.
THE Pawnee village, at which they soon arrived, was situated in the midst of a picturesque scene.
It occupied an extensive plain which sloped gently down to a creek,[1] whose winding course was marked by a broken line of wood, here and there interspersed with a fine clump of trees, between the trunks of which the blue waters of a lake sparkled in the distance. Hundreds of tents or “lodges” of buffalo skins covered the ground, and thousands of Indians—men, women and children—moved about the busy scene. Some were sitting in their lodges, lazily smoking their pipes. But these were chiefly old and infirm veterans, for all the young men had gone to the hunt which we have just described. The women were stooping over their fires, busily preparing maize and meat for their husbands and brothers; while myriads of little brown and naked children romped about everywhere, filling the air with their screams, which were only equalled by the yelping dogs that seemed innumerable.
Far as eye could reach were seen scattered herds of horses. These were tended by little boys who were totally destitute of clothing, and who seemed to enjoy with infinite zest the pastime of shooting-practice with little
- ↑ In America small rivers or rivulets are termed "creeks."
