"Indians!" was the answer. "Fall in!" In a moment most of our men were
gathered at the wagon line, and like magic the scene changed.
We could all now see coming down from a little flattened coulee to the
left, a head of a line of mounted men, who doubtless had been the cause
of the buffalo stampede which had crossed in front of us. The shouts of
teamsters and the crack of whips punctuated the crunch of wheels as our
wagons swiftly swung again into stockade. The ambulance was hurriedly
driven into the center of the heavier wagons, which formed in a rude
half circle.
After all, there seemed no immediate danger. The column of the tribesmen
came on toward us fearlessly, as though they neither dreaded us nor
indeed recognized us. They made a long calvacade, two hundred horses or
more, with many travaux and dogs trailing on behind. They were all clad
in their native finery, seemingly hearty and well fed, and each as
arrogant as a king. They passed us contemptuously, with not a sidelong
glance.
In advance of the head men who rode foremost in the column were three or
four young women, bearing long lance shafts decorated with feathers and
locks of human hair, the steel tips shining gray in the sun.
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