The day had already ended, and as the evening shadows fell upon the camp the Minneconjoux began preparations for the great war dance. A large fire was lighted in the center of the village, and the entire tribe assembled to honor the men who were going to fight the Blackfeet. The warriors who had enlisted in the war party marched noisily about the camp, singing their war songs, and shouting boastful threats against their foes. As they finally approached the council fire they were greeted with wild yells of approval from the great company who awaited them. Then all subsided into respectful silence as Curly Horse and the principal chiefs of the tribe walked solemnly into the council circle.
After the chief and his escort had taken positions, the warriors lined up before him and waited for him to address them. He looked upon them with pride and affection. Most of them were young men in the prime of their youth, and their bold, flashing eyes and fearless faces proclaimed their courage. They were led by Sun Bird who had organized the war party. He called White Otter to stand beside him, and the Minneconjoux murmured approval of the honor.
"My brothers, I see that you are ready for war," said Curly Horse. "You are going to fight the Blackfeet. It is good. They are our enemies. They have carried off many of our ponies. You must bring them back. You must also bring some good Blackfeet ponies. Perhaps you will find Dancing Rabbit in the Blackfeet camp. Then you must carry him away. Spotted Face is waiting for him. I will not tell you how to fight. You are Dacotahs. It is enough. Now I will ask Rain Crow to give you some words."
Before speaking, Rain Crow drew an ember from the fire and lighted the sacred medicine pipe. Then he puffed the smoke toward the heavens, toward the earth, and toward each of the four winds. He kept up a weird, high-pitched chant, and tossed small handfuls of dried sweet grass into the flames. It was evident that he was asking success for the war party, and the Minneconjoux watched him with grave interest. When he had completed the ceremony, he stood some time staring fixedly at the stars. Then he addressed the war company.
"My friends, you have seen me smoke the great Medicine Pipe," he said. "It is good. It will help you. I have asked Wakantunka, the Great Mystery, to make you strong. I have asked the Good Spirits to help you. I have asked the Bad Spirits to do you no harm. I believe everything will be good. I believe you will overcome the Blackfeet. Listen, my friends, I hear the noise of many ponies running. Yes, yes, those are Sioux ponies. Yes, I hear some Blackfeet ponies. They are running toward the Minneconjoux camp. I see these brave young men riding behind them."
His prophecy roused the Minneconjoux. Men, women and children united their voices in the war cry of the Dacotahs. It rang through the camp, and echoed off across the plain as a challenge to their foes. Rain Crow laughed, and shook his clenched hand toward the north.
"Hi, you Blackfeet people, do you hear that noise?" he cried, excitedly. "Pretty soon you will know what it means. Then you will shake, and cry like young deer when they hear the wolf cry."
His words again threw the people into a frenzy of excitement. The war cry again rang out across the plain, and before the sound had died away the warriors had assembled for the war dance. They formed a large circle about the fire, and stood awaiting the word from Sun Bird, their leader. A number of aged men had come forward with the war drums, and taken places near the dancers. A hush fell upon the vast assemblage, as the Minneconjoux watched eagerly for the interesting spectacle to begin.
Then Sun Bird raised his voice in the familiar strains of the great war song, and the dance began. Keeping time with the solemn, rhythmical throbbing of the war drums, the dancers moved slowly about the fire chanting the boastful words of the war song, and flourishing their weapons. They had not circled many times about the fire, however, before they cast off restraint, and flung themselves into ecstasies of the dance with wild abandon. The war song was forgotten, as the dancers began to shout their boasts and threats against the powerful foes in the north. Each moment added to their excitement, and as the war drums throbbed in shorter, quicker beats, the dancers quickened their steps to hold the rhythm. Although each held his place in the circle, they had abandoned all attempt to dance in unison, and each man was interpreting the spirit of the dance to suit himself. All, however, kept time to the beats of the war drums, and the droning chants of the aged musicians. As quick and sinewy as mountain cats, the young warriors pranced about the fire in a frenzy of enthusiasm. Each tried to surpass his fellows in the mad antics of the dance, and their maneuvers brought yells of approval from the fascinated onlookers. At one moment the dancers would stoop near the ground, and dance forward with short, mincing steps, shading their eyes with their hands, as if searching for the trail of their foes. Then they would suddenly spring upright and announce their success with a piercing whoop. A moment afterward they would leap forward with war club raised to deliver the fatal stroke. Then they would begin a wild dance about the fallen foe. Some of the older warriors carried their coupsticks with the trophies won on former war expeditions. As they danced they shook these priceless possessions before the envious eyes of their tribesmen. Sometimes one of those dancers would drive his coupstick in the ground while he and several companions danced wildly about it, rushing up to touch it and reciting some great achievement as they did so. Then all would suddenly stand transfixed in their places while they raised their faces toward the stars, and united their voices in the piercing Dacotah war cry.
The spectacle was weird and fascinating. The grotesque contortions of the dancers in the lurid glare of the fire, the fierce expression on their faces, the solemn throbbing of the war drums, the picturesque assemblage of spectators, the dim, ghostly outlines of the lodges in the shadows, the gaunt, wolf-like dogs skulking along the edge of the camp, made a striking impression on the memory.