“You’re nixt, Cap’n,” ventured Patrick Gass. “There they are, back for ye, sorr.”
“Be alert, Sergeant,” bade the captain, as he vaulted from the barge into the pirogue. “They may appear friendly, but we mustn’t take any chances. Don’t let the men lay aside their arms for a minute, and keep them together.”
“Yis, sorr. I will, sorr,” promised Patrick Gass. He was the oldest soldier in the company, and the captains relied upon him.
Captain Lewis likewise was borne to the council house; and the men of the expedition, except the boat guards, marched after.
The council lasted a long time, and was concluded with a feast of the dog-meat from a pot, and of buffalo meat and hominy and ground-potato. Buffalo meat was given to the white chiefs as a present. The Tetons claimed to be poor, but they weren’t. This was a powerful and rich village, as anybody might see. Before the dance that had been planned for the evening, the men were permitted to roam about a little. Peter and Patrick Gass and their party discovered a string of scalps hanging from a pole, and a number of Omaha squaws and children who appeared very miserable.
Peter talked with them a little. They were prisoners. The Tetons had attacked their village down the river, and had burned forty lodges and killed seventy-five warriors.
When dusk fell the dance was started, by the light of a fire, in the middle of the council house. The Sioux warriors danced, and the Sioux women danced; but at midnight the captains told the chief that everybody was tired and it was time to go to bed.
“The chief he say: ‘Ver’ well. Now sleep. To-morrow more Sioux come, to talk with de great father.’ He want you to stay,” interpreted Drouillard.
“We will stay and see these other Sioux,” answered Captain Lewis. “What do you think, Will?”
“If you say so, Merne,” replied Captain Clark. “But there’s some trick in this. We mustn’t be caught off guard—and of course we mustn’t show that we’re afraid, either.”