The Crows had fleshed their arrows the first in the Scotch party, and the news had swiftly crossed the wastes of "a heap of scalps and plunder" being obtained. The mock Chippeway guide had become a hero of legend. The attack on the Half-breeds, though a repulse, was also commended, and Ahnemekee had added laurels to his wreath.
Whilst this news was still fresh, an Indian camp was established on the bank of Bear River, an affluent of Red River which does not always feed it, being sometimes "lost" in a sinkhole on the way when the waters fall low. Bears did not people the shore now; that was a tradition.
A considerable portion of the head tribe of Piegans occupied the score and a half of buffalo hide tents, sodded at the bottom edge to keep out the cold and wet. These Indians appertain to the great nation of the Blackfeet, still one of the most warlike and, consequently, most dreaded of the Nor'-Westers. They are a little free in their reading of hunting law, as they are known to go and steal horses on the Mexican frontier, whether the Apaches and Comanches like the inroad or not.
This troop comprised some two hundred "big braves." The several headmen, or captains, obeyed a sachem called "Knife-painted-with-Blood," or more concisely, "Red Knife." He had valiantly won the title by preferring hand-to-hand struggles.
He was only about thirty, standing clear six feet, and not bowlegged, more slender than bulky, but unusually active and skilful with various weapons, though with the knife he could execute any feat. His expression was a haughty one, rather majestic when not cruel and scornful. His smallish, black, beadlike eyes, deep set, sparkled with cunning, malice, and fearlessness. He was idolised by his followers, and though the office of war chief is precarious, and such a one is often forced to make concessions or be deposed, never had Red Knife met discussion for his order. He reigned like an Asiatic monarch.
Ordinarily, as the women and children are indispensable for the meat making, and fur and skin dressing, the Indians must have them and their dogs and pack ponies along with them. The dogs, for once, get fully fed, and so become too appetising with their round paunches, and are sacrificed in feast when not required for burdens.
On this occasion the Piegans had no living impediments in their camp, and the warriors had not replaced the war paint pictures with peaceful emblems. This proved clearly that this party only pretended to be out a-hunting, and sought an opportunity to outdo the Crows in an attack on the white intruders.
For some ten days they had been located at their regular encampment. To prevent quarrels, each hunting party occupies the same site from time out of mind.
Among Indian beliefs is the singular one that each tribe has an animal ancestor, whose image or present lineal representative is their totem, or sacred standard. Its shape is tattooed on the bosom. When the size or rarity of the actual animal prevents even its skin being portable, its figure is painted on a banner, extremely revered, and guarded by an old warrior, the counterpart to our ensign. Over and above this public token is another one, only known to the upper class of "men of the medicine," being a grand pass sign, practically universal. We have only to add that the good sense which tempers the superstition of the North American savage allows him, when hungry, to hunt, kill, and eat the animal of his reverence, though, truly, he always apologises by way of grace to the victim. But the supersacred emblem would be respected in any emergency. Luckily, this is chosen among such uncommon, even extinct, or, perhaps, fabulous creatures, that it would be exempt from maltreatment in any case.
The tribe of Red Knife were convinced that the grizzly bear was their great grandfather, and so always came to Bear River as a hunting home.