GOING WITH THE PONCAS—BUFFALO MEAT—CAMPED FOR THE WINTER—COUNCIL WITH THE INDIANS—A WAR DANCE—SELECTED TO GO WITH THE PONCAS ON A WINTER'S HUNT.

Brother James Emmett, one of our party, understood a little of the Sioux language, and one of the Ponca chiefs could converse in this language. Brother Emmett was asked to find out how far the Poncas lived from the camp. The chief told him three sleeps, or, as he understood it, three days' travel for our cattle: but we afterwards learned that the chief meant three days' and nights' travel with horses (one hundred and fifty miles).

The country over which we traveled the first three days was very rough for our wagons.

The name of the chief of the Poncas was Ta-nugar-number, which means, two buffalo bulls. He was thus named because he once killed two bulls, while they were running through the village.

On the fourth day this chief came to us, saying he and the party had killed three buffaloes. Brother Miller ordered the camp to stop near a small stream close by, and send for the dead animals, that we might have buffalo meat for dinner. This was the first time we had had meat for ten weeks.

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.

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.

The next day we started. Our company consisted of Brother John Kay, who was going to do a little trading with and gunsmithing for the Indians, Frederick Bainbridge, his teamster, four young brethren and myself, with the Ponca nation which numbered two thousand souls, with all their lodges, camp kettles, etc.