A curious scene! Less than a mile away the buffalo poured south like a living river of flesh. There was some tendency on the part of the outer files to edge away from us, but the bulk of the vast herd paid us no attention whatsoever. They were terrifying in their numbers and inexorable progress. There must have been millions of them. And here were we, so relatively few, preparing to dispute with an equally insignificant body the right to slaughter some few units of their multitudes.
The chief of the Cheyenne stood forward, a giant of a man, his arms and chest gashed by the ordeals of the Sun Dance.
"Why do the Dakota interfere with the hunting of the Cheyenne?" he demanded. "Have they painted for war?"
"The Cheyenne know best whether there is war," retorted Chatanskah. "It is they who interfere with the Dakota's hunting."
"There is war only if the Dakota make it," asserted the Cheyenne. "The Cheyenne have pursued these buffalo for a day. Let the Dakota retire to their own country, and await there the coming of the buffalo."
"Since when have the Cheyenne said what the Dakota shall do?" flashed Chatanskah. "My young men have an answer ready for you."
The Cheyenne surveyed our array before replying.
"Nakuiman* sees that the Dakota have with them two of the Mazzonka,"** he remarked. "One of them is a large man, but very fat. Send him out here and let him show the warriors if he has strength in that big belly. Tell him to lay aside his weapons, all save his knife, and Nakuiman will do the same. If he comes, Nakuiman will tear out the Mazzonka's heart with his fingers and eat it before the Dakota. But the Mazzonka will not come. He is afraid."
* The Bear.
** Iron-makers, Indian name for white men.