208 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 
grass struggled for a sickly growth. As you entered it, 
you found yourself growing deeper and deeper in a 
fine dust, that had, in the course of time, been worked 
out of the soil. Some coarse blankets were suspended 
through the enclosure, as retiring rooms for the women. 
On the ground were strewn buffalo skins, from which 
the animal inhabitants alone kept aloof. 
We entered without seeing a human being. After 
some delay, however, a little nondescript, with a white 
sunburnt head, thrust aside the blankets, and hallooed 
out, ‘“ They ain’t injuns.” The mother then showed 
herself. She was as far removed from feminine as pos- 
sible, and appeared as unmoved at our presence as the 
post that sustained the roof of her house. 
We asked for lodging and food; she nodded a cold 
assent and disappeared. Not disposed to be fastidious, 
we endeavored to make ourselves as comfortable as pos- 
sible, and wait for the development of coming events. 
In the course of an hour a woman younger than the 
first made her appearance, and on hearing the detail of 
our wants, she wrinkled her soiled visage into a distort- 
ed smile, and told us that the “men” would soon be 
home with “ buffalo meat,’ and then our wants should 
be supplied. 
Whatever might have been our disappointment at 
what we saw around us, the name of buffalo meat dis- 
pelled it all. The great era in our fgontier wanderings 
was about to commence, and with smiles from our party 
