A camp, at night, incidentally, is usually quite a noisy place. It would not form, for example, an ideal refuge for scholarship. The stereotype of the taciturn red savage is one based, usually, on encountering him in guarded situations, where he is uneasy, perhaps meeting strangers, or is, say, being careful, perhaps being involved in trading. In his villages he is outspoken, good-humored and animate. He likes wagers, practical jokes and telling stories. He is probably one of the world's greatest visitors and, too, one of the world's greatest hosts, one of his great pleasures in life being the giving of gifts and the feasting of friends.
I drank deeply from the water bag, and then closed it, and replaced it by the lodge wall. The lodge was a diameter of some fifteen feet. This is acually quite spacious. A circular enclosure, of course, geometrically, contains more space, for a given perimeter, than any other figure. Such lodges are conveniently and comfortaly inhabited by families of from five to eight red savages. To be sure, much time, most of the year, is spent outdoors. Also, what might seem crowded to one with a particular acculturation may simply seem approtriate and right, even intimate and cozy, to one with a differing acculturation. Family and communal closeness, for better or for worse, are characteristics of the life of the red savage. I do not think he would want it any other way. To be sure, it is not unknown for a man to occasionally seek the lodge of his warrior society, where his children and women cannot follow him. In his clut, so to speak, he might be able to find a bit of peace and quiet which seems to have eluded him at home. Too, of course, meditation and the seeking of visions and dreams are solitary activities. A man may indicate that he is meditating by as little as putting his blanket over his head, even in a crowded camp. He will then be left alone. Dreams and visions, on the other hand, are usually sought in the willderness.
"Howo, Tatankasa!" said Cuwignaka, thrusting his head into the lodge. "Come on. Come along, Red Bull!"
"I am coming," I said. I went outside. It was still quite dark. I could see shapes moving about, however. Cuwignaka had the two travois already hitched up.
There was much movement and excitement in the camp. I wandered off, behind the lodges.
"Where have you been?" asked Cuwignaka, when I returned.
"Where do you think?" I asked. "I was relieving myself."
I saw two red savages riding by. They were Sleen Soldiers. One was Hci.
"We will be leaving any moment," said Cuwignaka.
"I doubt it," I said.
Hci turned back his kaiila and brought it to a stop before us. He wore breechclout and moccasins. About his neck was a necklace of sleen claws. His long hair was braided. He carried his bow, not yet strung, and a quiver of arrows, at his left hip. On his belt, that holding the breechclout, there was a knife, in a beaded sheath. Hci's kaiila wore a jaw rope, looped over the back of its neck. This rope, however, is not used, or much used, in either the hunt or war. The rider guides the animal primarily by his knees. His hands, thus, are freed for the use of the bow, or other impliments. There was, however, a rope looped about the neck of the kaiila. This rope is thrown to the side and behind the kaiila. If the rider, then, is dismounted in the tumult of the hunt, he may, hopefully, by seizing this rope, sometimes a strap, retain control over his mount and, hastily, safely, regain his seat. Hci's animal, incidentally, was a prize kaiila. This was indicated by its notched ears. The Kaiila notch both ears of such a kaiila. Certain other tribes, such as the Fleer, notch only one ear, usually the left.
"Remember, pretty Siptopto," said Hci, sneeringly, to Cuwignaka, "you are not to hunt. You are to remain back from the hunt. It is yours only to cut meat, with the other females." 'Siptopto' was an insulting pet name by which Hci occasionally addressed Cuwignaka. It was the sort of name, though not necessarily, that might be given to a female slave. It means "Beads."
"I am not a woman," said Cuwignaka.
"You will stay back from the hunt," said Hci. "You will cut meat with the other women."
"I will stay back from the hunt," said Cuwignaka. "I will cut meat with the women."
"You, and the slave," said Hci.
"We will stay back from the hunt," said Cuwignaka. "We will cut meat with the women."
Hci then turned his kaiila about, and went, following his fellow rider.
"Make ready your arrows!" I heard again. "Make ready your arrows! Sharpent your knives! Sharpen your knives! We are going to make meat! We are going to make meat!" Slowly, though the camp, in the darkness, now crowded with men and women, rode Agleskala, the crier of the Sleen Soldiers.
Behind him, in line, coming from the vicinity of the lodge of the Sleen Soldiers, the society lodge, came several members of the Sleen-Soldiers Society. They were garbed and accountered much as had been Hci. Two, however, carried long, heavy, stout hunting lances, rather than bows and arrows.
Following them, being careful not to precede them, were some of the first of the hunters.
"Hou, Witantanka!" called a girl to one of the warriors. "Greetings, One-Who-Is-Proud!"
"Hou, Akamda," said he to the girl, halting his kaiila. 'Akamda' is a word usually designating fringe, such as might occur on leggings or shirts.
"Is a warrior of the Isanna going hunting?" she asked.
"Maybe," he said. "Is a maiden of the Isbu coming out to cut meat?"
"It is possible," she said. "How many arrows do you have?"
"Twenty," he said.
"Then maybe you will be able to get one beast," she said. Hunters pride themselves on making single-arrow kills.
"Twenty Pte will let out their water and roll behind me, dying in the dust," he said.
"Cinto!" she laughed. "Oh, yes! Surely!"
"Once my kaiila slipped," he said. "But it was long ago."
"If you sue more than one arrow in any beast," she said, "I will tell everyone."
"Would you?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "And no more riding after the animal, to pull out the first arrow. You are an idiot. You could have been killed."
"I could not do that," he said.
"Miniwozan saw you," she said. 'Miniwozan' does not translate well. It signfies a mist, or a slowly falling rain.
"Miniwozan, then," he said, "was to close to the herd."
"Perhaps," granted Akamda.
"It was probably another," he said.
"It was you," she said.
"Maybe I did it," he said.
"If you are going to do that sort of thing," she said. "you should wait until the animal is dead, and the herd is passed by."
"Do you think I could do such a thing?" he asked.
"I think maybe you could do it," she said.
"Maybe," he said.
"Do not use more than one arrow," she said.
"I never use more than one arrow," he said, "almost never."
"Good hunting," she said.
"If I sue more than one arrow, you will not tell anyone will you?" he asked.
"I will tell you," she said, "you may be assured of that."
"But you will not tell others, will you?" he asked.
"No," she said, "except maybe Miniwozan."
"Do not bother," he said. "I will have it announced by the village crier."
"Be careful, Witantanka," said the girl.
"In the time of the dancings and the feasts, after the hunting is finished," he said, "I may be looking for a girl to ride with me about the camp."
"Behindyou, on your kaiila?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "Would you like to ride with me, behind me, on my kaiila, about the camp?" he asked.
"Maybe," she said. "I will think about it." This was tantamount to an offer of marriage.
"I think I will go hunting now," he said. "I must take my place."
"Oglu waste, Witantanka," she said. "Good luck, Witantanka."
Some more hunters drifted past us.
A few yards ahead of where we waited by the lodge there was a group of mounted kaiila riders. There was an older fellow there, a member of the Sleen Soldiers. He was addressing a cluster of some five or six young men, almost boys. It was the first hunt, I gathered, in which they would fully participate, not riding merely at the fringes, observing the older men, but entering among the beasts themselves. I walked up, to where I might hear what was going on. "Remember," the older fellow was telling them, "you do not hunt for yourself today. You hunt for others. Doubtless there will be hunters who will not be successful today. You will hunt for them. And there are those in the camps who are weak and frail. You will hunt for them. For all of these, and others, those less fortunate than yourselves, you hunt today. But always, remember, you hunt not only for yourself. You never hunt only for yourself. You hunt for the Kaiila."
"Howe, howe," acknowledged the boys.
"Good hunting," said he to them. "Oglu waste! Good luck!"
They then turned their kaiila about, to take their places.
In a boy's first hunt he gives his kill, or kills, to others. Only the first beast's tongue, its most prized meat, will he have, it being awarded to him for his efficiency and valor. The purpose of this custom seems to be to encourage the young man, from the very beginning, to think of himself in terms of the gallantry and generosity of he warrior.
I walked back to where Cuwignaka was waiting.
"We will soon be going out," said Cuwignaka.
"I think you are right," I said.
The lodges, incidentally, in a hunt of this sort, are not struck. The Pte, in a herd of this size, moving as slowly as it must, and in virtue of the kaiila and travois, would be within reach for three or four days. The entire encampment of red savages, of course, may be swiftly moved. In less than twenty Ehn an entire camp can be struck, packed and gone. This is a function, of course, of the lodges involved. One woman, working alone, can put one up in fifteen Ehn and strike it in three.
"Canka," said Cuwignaka, as Canka stopped his kaiila near us.
"Greetings, my brother." said Canka.
"Greetings, my brother," said Cuwignaka happily. "What are you going to do this morning?"
"I think I will go out to look at the Pte," said Canka, smiling.
"Where is Winyela?" asked Cuwignaka. "Is she going out? Do you want her to come with us? We will look after her."
"She is going out," said Canka. "But I am sending her out with Wasnapohdi, the slave of Wopeton, the trader. She has been with the hunt before. She will not get too close. She will show her how to cut meat."
"Winyela is white," said Cuwignaka. "She will throw up the first time she has to cut meat. She will do it poorly."
"If she wastes meat, I will beat her," said Canka.
"Good," said Cuwignaka, approvingly.
"I see, little brother," said Canka, "that you, to, are going out."
"Of course," said Cuwignaka.
"Do not get too close to the herd," said Canka.
"I won't," said Cuwignaka.
This warning on the part of Canka made me somewhat uneasy. I had thought that the dangers in this sort of business were borne, primarily, if not exclusively, by the hunters. Yet, of course, it was clear that if the herd, or portions of it, were to veer or circle their movements might bring them into the vicinity of the travois and women. In such a case, of course, one must slash the travois straps, mount up, and make away as best one can. To be sure the greatest dangers were clearly borne by the hunters who must ride among the running beasts themselves, and attempt thier kills from a distance just outside the hooking range of the trident, from a distance so close that they might almost reach out and touch the animal.
"You and Tatankasa will be out there alone," said Canka. "I will not be near you."
"I do not understand," said Cuwignaka.
"Beware of Hci," said Canka.
"We will," said Cuwignaka. The hair on the back of my neck rose up.
"Have you seen an arrow of mine?" asked Canka. "I am missing one of my arrows."
"No," said Cuwignaka.
"I must have misplaced it," said Canka.
"Yes," said Cuwignaka.
"I must take my place," said Canka.
"Good hunting. Be careful," said Cuwignaka. "Oglu waste!"
"Oglu waste," said Canka, and then turned his kaiila away, to take his place.
Agleskala now made his third and last circuit of the camp. "Make ready your arrows," he cired. "Make ready your knives. We are going to make meat! We are going to make meat!"
"We are going to make meat!" cried out several of those about us.
"We are going to make meat!" said Cuwignaka, happily.
The Sleen Soldiers, riding abreast, in a long line, which no hunter, no matter how eager, must cross, in the first streaks of dawn, left the camp. Behind them came the hunters, of the Isbu, of the Casmu, of the Isanna, of the Wismahi, and of the Napoktan, riding five abreast. Dust lifted about the paws of their kaiila. Then came the women, and the kaiila and travois, the poles leaving lines in the dust, and with them, joining them, came Cuwignaka and myself.