There was a great yelling and shooting upon every hand and several riderless ponies were mixed in with the buffalo. Many prairie-dog holes were the cause of this, for when the ponies stepped into them their riders were, of course, thrown over their heads. Ponies are usually sure-footed beasts, but when in a chase like this, where over a thousand buffalo are tearing over the prairie and kicking up a big lot of dust, it makes it impossible for the animals to see the holes.
Young Bill brought down four of the huge brown bison and received great praise from the Indians for his skill. They used arrows in their killing and shot behind the shoulder, bringing the buffalo to his knees. Another arrow would be sent deep enough to penetrate the lungs of the beast and it would then be soon over with him.
For three-quarters of a mile the prairie was dotted with the dead buffalo. They were soon butchered; the ponies were packed with three hundred pounds of the choicest meat, and the caravan started for home. Several Indians who had been thrown limped quite badly, but no one was seriously injured. At sundown the village was reached, a feast was prepared, and all joined in the affair with the greatest good will and friendship. Young Bill was warmly congratulated upon his success, and this was well, for if a white man fails to acquit himself creditably with the redskins it casts a reflection upon all the whites.
The Indians made pemmican and “dupuyer” from the buffalo. The first is manufactured in the following manner: the choicest portions of the buffalo meat are selected, sliced, and cut into flakes. They are then dried. All of the marrow, from the centre of the bones, is put into one pile with the sweetest of the tallow. These ingredients are mixed together and stirred around in a pot which is hung over a slow fire. The combination is then cooled. Some red men put berries into the mixture, which harden and give a sweetish taste. The mountaineers and trappers—when sugar was scarce—always made their pemmican in this manner. The Indian squaws pulverized the meat by beating it upon a flat rock, and then placed it in skinbags for future use. It is estimated that one pound of pemmican is equal to about five pounds of beef.
A fat substance which lies along the buffalo’s backbone, next to the hide, is known as “dupuyer.” It is about as thick as the hand of a trapper and runs from the shoulder-blade to the last rib. In breadth it measures between seven to eleven inches. The Indians and mountaineers would strip away this substance—dip it in hot grease for thirty seconds—and then hang it to the inside poles of a lodge. A fire would be lighted beneath it and it would be allowed to dry and smoke for ten or twelve hours. “Dupuyer” was considered to be a great delicacy, for it was very nourishing. Besides this it was tender and sweet. The trappers loved this food and would pay a dollar a pound for it, while the Indians always took dried meat and “dupuyer” along with them upon their expeditions.
When Williams and his party moved on, Swift Runner presented young Bill with a pony which he had ridden in the hunt, and the squaws gave him a half a dozen pairs of beautifully embroidered moccasins.
A few days later the party reached the South Platte River and there found a Sioux village. Big Thunder was the chief, and he requested the trappers to camp there, as his people wanted to trade with them. The Sioux were then a friendly tribe and treated the white men in a cordial manner.
Just before dawn—upon the day following—a wild yelping awoke the entire village. The warriors ran out only to find that the Pawnees—the mortal enemies of the Sioux—had run off about one hundred head of ponies which had been turned out to graze only a short distance from camp. Among this number were two mules and three ponies belonging to the white men.
As soon as this news was received there was a great yelling and shouting, while fifty young warriors hastened to saddle their best ponies. Young Bill Hamilton was with them, and, under the leadership of Young Thunder, they started after the redskins. The trail of the fugitives was soon struck and followed at a brisk gallop, and, after going about eight miles, it was evident that the Pawnees were but a short distance in advance. Passing over a divide, a cloud of dust could be plainly seen about two miles in advance.
The Pawnees rode hard, but they were soon in view. There were twelve in the party. As Young Thunder gave a war-whoop, the ponies bounded forward and carried their owners towards the fugitives as if shot out of the mouth of a cannon. The Pawnees heard the chief’s yell, and, leaving the herd of stolen stock, made for a neighboring cottonwood grove. While Bill Hamilton rode onward, a bullet whistled by his ear. The savages fired several more shots but their lead all went wide of its mark.