Because they had camped separately, the Brabant-Perier party was at the very end of the train. Mr. Perier was mounted on one of the four horses, while Walter, Neil, and the two Brabant boys took turns riding another. Most of the time Louis walked beside the front cart or sat on the shafts, one of the other boys accompanying the second. Mrs. Brabant, her two daughters, Elise, and Max rode in the carts, getting down now and then to walk for a while. The rate of travel was slow, less than twelve miles being made the first day. Thereafter the day’s march averaged nearly twenty.
It was with some apprehension that Mr. Perier watched Louis and Neil wheel the two carts into the place assigned them in the circle that night. Walter, who had lived longer among the bois brulés, was less troubled. Louis had assured him that everything would be all right, and Walter did not doubt his friend’s judgment. Everything, but the mosquitoes, was all right, that night and every night that the Brabants and Periers camped with the hunt. Rough and noisy the hunters and their families were, but good natured and kindly enough. They shouted, laughed, and sang, fiddled and danced, told stories, played cards and other games by the light of their fires, but there was little quarreling and no fighting. Within two hours after sunset, all had settled down for the night, and the camp lay quiet and sleeping.
The sun rose early those June mornings, but before it appeared above the horizon, the camp was astir. In an astonishingly short time the train was in motion again. The route was to the west of the Red River in what is now North Dakota. There were swampy stretches to cross, still wet enough to make traveling difficult, then drier ground and better going. On every side lay flat, open country, broken here and there by small groves or thin lines of trees along the streams. The prairie was green with new grass, and dotted everywhere with the pink and white and yellow and blue of wild flowers growing singly or in masses. Elise and the Brabant and Lajimonière girls delighted in picking the sweet, pale pink wild roses and decorating themselves and the carts. Mrs. Brabant warned them to look out for snakes and Louis armed each with a stout stick. At the warning rattle, Marie Brabant and Reine Lajimonière would search for the snake and kill it. But little Jeanne and Elise, who had not grown used to prairie rattlesnakes, ran back to the carts in fright.
Snakes were not plentiful, however. Far more troublesome were the mosquitoes that rose in clouds after the sun went down. On still nights the buzzing, stinging insects were a continual torment. Smudges were kindled everywhere within the circle of carts, but Elise and Max could find little choice between the stinging pests and the choking smoke.
Mr. Perier and Walter marveled at the control the leaders of the hunt exercised over the wild crew. The hunters had chosen a chief and several captains, who formed a governing council, and each captain had a number of men under him to act as guards and police. When the guide lowered his flag, every cart took the place assigned it in the circle, shafts outward. The captain and men on duty were responsible for the order and good behavior, as well as the safety, of the camp.
The rules adopted by the council were much the same on all the hunts. Scouts were sent out each day to look for buffalo, but must not frighten them. No one was allowed to separate from, or lag behind the main party without permission, or to hunt buffalo independently. The most serious offences were thievery and fighting with guns or knives. Punishments ranged from cutting up a man’s bridle or saddle, if he had one, to driving the guilty person from camp. Knowing that the penalty would be swift and severe, even the boldest seldom ventured to break the laws.
For several days no buffalo but a few scattered individuals were seen. When the beasts caught scent or sound of the caravan, they were off at an awkward gallop. They seemed to move slowly, but really made good speed. It was Elise’s first sight of live buffalo, and she thought them very ugly creatures, with their great shaggy heads and clumsy movements.
Late one afternoon the line of carts wound down the bank of the Turtle River to a ford. Long before the rear of the caravan reached the stream, exciting news had been carried back from mouth to mouth.
“There are buffalo ahead,” one of the Lajimonière boys called to Neil, who was driving the first of the Brabant-Perier carts. “A great band has been across the ford, and not long ago, they say.”
A great band it must have been. The hunting party had left a plain and well-trodden trail down the bank, and roiled, muddy water at the crossing. But no cart-train running wild could have so ravaged the country. Far on either side of the ford, the willows and bushes were torn and trampled. From many of the trees the bark was rubbed off or hanging in shreds. The grass was worn away. The mud along the margin was trodden hard by thousands of hoofs. The devastation was fresh.