A team was sent, and the meat soon arrived, and was distributed through the camp.
It was a novel scene, I assure you, to see us each with a stick and a piece of meat stuck on the end of it, toasting, or broiling it, before the fire. This was the first buffalo meat we had ever eaten, and we all thought it the sweetest and best meat we ever tasted.
We remained here until two o'clock, p. m., the next day, when but little remained of the buffaloes, except the bones. Several more were killed before we reached the village. The meat of some was dried, but all the prime pieces were eaten.
On the eleventh day we camped within two miles of their village, and three miles from where we located for the winter. No sooner had we unyoked our cattle than we were visited by nearly all the nation, old and young. All wanted to see us. Many of them had never seen an ox before, and but few had seen many white men.
A council of the chiefs and braves, or warriors, was called, to meet with our brethren. The chief told his people that he had invited us to stay on their land during the winter. That we wanted timber for building houses and for fuel, and pasture for our cattle. He said they had plenty of both—more than they or we needed—and he wanted his braves to say that we could have it. In return, he told them we would build them houses, plow and plant some land for their squaws, and give them some flour. He then asked for an expression of their feelings.
Several of the old men spoke, and all said we were welcome to come and get what we wanted.
The Poncas numbered about two thousand souls.
After the meeting dismissed some thirty of the braves, or soldiers, favored us with a war dance.
The musical instrument used for this was used at all the dances I ever saw while with them. It was like a tambourine, and about the same size. This is beaten as you would beat a drum. The braves formed in a circle, and at every beat of the instrument (and there were perhaps seventy strokes to the minute) they would jump up, at the same time bending forward in a half-stooping position, and passing around as they jumped, yelling and hallooing in a most frightful manner.
All they lacked at this dance to make it a perfect war dance, were the scalps of some whom they had killed in battle.