CHAPTER XIV 



HISTORIC INDIAN COUNCILS 



Our last camp with the Indians was at Sixteen 

 Mile Creek, about that distance from Fort Sill. 

 It was in a beautiful tree-surrounded glade, in 

 the center of which burned what Jones told us 

 was a council fire. He said that this was our 

 last night together and that the Indians wanted 

 to hold a council with us. 



I never attended a more formal gathering nor 

 one that approached it in romantic surroundings 

 and interest. Old warriors and young braves 

 sat in a great circle around the council fire, be- 

 neath the mystic rays of the round, full moon. 



For an hour not a word was spoken. Slowly 

 the pipe was passed, smoked by each in turn, 

 filled, passed, and smoked again. I began by 

 thinking of it as a joke, then as of some strange, 

 impressive mummery, but at last I was carried 



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