“It has come at last.”
“What do you mean? The fight?”
“Oh, no. We have got orders to pack up our houses and move up to the dance-ground.”
CHAPTER XI.
The Indian Policemen.
For a few minutes there was great commotion among some of the women in camp, a few making preparations to strike tents, and the rest hurrying off to saddle their husbands’ horses. The braves did not do anything except bring their weapons out of the tepees and stand by until their nags were brought up. Carl, seeing that no attention was paid to himself, went out of the tepee and took his stand by the squawman’s side.
“Do you see those men who are sitting in front of their wigwams smoking their pipes?” said Harding. “Well they are those who don’t believe in the Ghost Dance. The soldiers say they don’t want them to engage in it, and that is enough for them.”
“They will be saved when the world comes to an end as well as those who do believe in it, will they not?” said Carl.
“Not much, they won’t,” answered the squawman indignantly. “This world is going to be destroyed and a new one made in the place of it; and those men, who are perfectly willing that the whites should come here and steal all their land and drive away the buffalo, will go somewhere, and no one will ever see them again.”
“Where’s my horse?” asked Carl suddenly. “Or are you going to leave me here?”