IN COWBOY LAND. 



235 



and dressed in their striking battle-garb, wait- 

 ing on a hill. 



The position of troops at the beginning of 

 such an affair is always peculiarly difficult. 

 The settlers round-about are sure to clamor 

 bitterly against them, no matter what they 

 do, on the ground that they are not thorough 

 enough and are showing favor to the savages, 

 while on the other hand, even if they fight 

 purely in self-defence, a large number of 

 worthy but weak-minded sentimentalists in 

 the East are sure to shriek about their having 

 brutally attacked the Indians. The war 

 authorities always insist that they must not 

 fire the first shot under any circumstances, 

 and such were the orders at this time. The 

 Crows on the hill-top showed a sullen and 

 threatening front, and the troops advanced 

 slowly towards them and then halted for a 

 parley. Meanwhile a mass of black thunder- 

 clouds gathering on the horizon threatened 

 one of those cloudbursts of extreme severity 

 and suddenness so characteristic of the plains 

 country. While still trying to make arrange- 

 ments for a parley, a horseman started out 

 of the Crow ranks and galloped headlong 

 down towards the troops. It was the medi- 

 cine chief, Sword-Bearer. He was painted 

 and in his battle-dress, wearing his war-bonnet 

 of floating, trailing eagle feathers, while the 

 plumes of the same bird were braided in the 

 mane and tail of his fiery little horse. On he 

 came at a gallop almost up to the troops and 

 then began to circle around them, calling and 



