This drumming, yelling and jumping continued for about fifteen minutes, when all the Indians left the camp for their own village.
We were about one mile from the Missouri River, and near the mouth of Swift or Running-Water River, and where the Indians raise a little corn.
The next day the whole village turned out to visit us. They wanted us to trade with them by giving them flour, sugar, coffee, etc., for moccasins, buckskins, etc. A great many exchanges were made, to the satisfaction of both parties. The Indians, however, had by far the best of the bargains, as we found out the next morning, for many of us were minus an ax, a kettle, pan, cup, knife or something that was used daily about our camp; and all these things we learned had been taken by our Indian visitors.
As soon as this was known to the chiefs, they ordered all who had these articles to return them to our camp. A few tin cups, saucepans, milk pans and such things were brought back, but not a tithe of what were taken.
After this but few were allowed to visit us. The chief appointed two Indians to be at our camp every day, to keep the others away, or keep them from stealing.
In about three weeks a number of houses were ready for the Saints to occupy, and about two-thirds of our people were housed for the winter.
While this was being done I had been kept busy, shoe-mending; and very often I would be called upon to mend an Indian's bridle or his bullet pouch, which I did cheerfully, and to their satisfaction.
About the first of October the Ponca chief came to Brother Miller, and informed him that they were about to start for their winter hunting ground, to hunt buffalo, elk and deer, to get robes and meat, and wished to have a few of our young men accompany them. He mentioned me, stating that I was good and kind to his people, mending bullet pouches, etc., for them. That same evening, after several of our young men had proposed to go with the Indians on their hunt, Bishop Miller said, calling me by name, "I would like you to go with them if you had not those fearful sores on your legs. The chiefs and some braves have taken quite a liking to you, and I feel, Brother S—, as though you would do much good by going among them on this journey, but I dare not ask you to go with such legs."
A peculiar feeling came over me while he was speaking, and I was led to say, "Brother Miller, if you say I can accomplish good by going with those Indians, I will go. I have no fears about my legs or myself; if anything should occur, that I should never return, I have no relatives in camp to mourn my loss. This weak, deformed body of mine can be better spared than those who are able bodied, all of whom are needed for the protection of the camp."
He there and then appointed me to go, and blessed me in the name of the Lord. He said that I should do much good, and have exceeding faith in the God of Israel, who would guide and direct me in a marvellous manner.