“That night he kept his favorite war horse picketed close to his lodge, and the next morning he carefully dressed himself in his beautiful war clothes, painted himself and his horse, took his bow and arrows, his shield and spear, and rode into the center of the big camp, and called upon the Crow chief to come out. He did come out, also dressed for battle, and One Horn cried out to him, at the same time making signs, so that he would be sure to understand, ‘Your plot is discovered. So you and that River Crow are going to kill me. Where is he? Call him. I want to fight you both. I am a bear. I fight like a bear. Come! Hurry! Let us fight. Ha! I am going to fight my true friend, the chief of the Mountain Crows, he who smoked and ate with me, he who was going to join me in making a lasting peace between our two tribes. Come! Let us fight! Shall it be on horseback or afoot? I give you the choice.’
“The Crow chief gave him no answer. Some of the people, looking on, were beginning to show their anger and shame at his betrayal of a friend. He turned and went back into his lodge, and would not come out again.
“While this was going on, several men had hurried to the River Crow man, stopping in the far end of camp: ‘Your plan to kill the Blackfoot is discovered, and he is dressed and armed and mounted, waiting to fight you. He is like a raging grizzly, and his, you know, is the bear medicine. What are you going to do?’
“The man did not answer them. He mounted his horse, and, hidden from One Horn’s sight by the lodges, struck out for the River Crow camp on Little River, and fear was with him. He often looked back to see if he were being pursued by this dreadful bear medicine man who had once wounded him, and was now so anxious to meet him face to face.
“One Horn rode back to his lodge. ‘Take down the lodge, pack up everything. We will not stay another day with these treacherous Crows,’ he told them, and rounded up and caught what horses were needed for packing and riding.
“Just before they were ready to leave, the Crow chief sent one of his women to say to One Horn that he was sorry for what he had done, very sorry that he had ever listened to the River Crow, and wanted to make reparation. He wanted to give his Blackfoot friend ten head of horses.
“‘Tell him that I will not accept anything from him,’ One Horn answered the woman. And he and his outfit started for the north and were soon out of sight of the Crow camp.
“Some days afterward they arrived at the camp of their people on the Big River of the North, and had no sooner set up their lodge than One Horn called a council of the chiefs and told them where he had been and for what purpose.
“‘Although I accomplished nothing, I am glad I went,’ he told them. ‘I now know the Crows. They are liars all, and not to be trusted. I advise that we begin a steady war against them.’
“The other chiefs agreed to that. Messengers were sent to the brother tribes, the Bloods and the North Blackfeet, and to the Gros Ventres, friends of the Blackfeet, and the war was started. Little by little, summer after summer, they drove the Crows southward, killing many of them, and were not satisfied until they forced them to the country south of the Elk River,[11] where they have ever since remained. So, because of their treachery, the Crows lost a great and rich country.”