890 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Dec. 3, 1910. 
was a high pommeled, Mexican saddle, with 
wooden stirrups, and when once seated it was 
no easy matter to be dislodged. Paint went up 
within twenty yards of the growling, wounded 
gore-covered bull, and there stood trembling and 
imparting some of his fear to myself. 
“With long, shaggy, dirt-matted and tangled 
locks falling over his glaring, diabolical eyes, 
blood streaming from nose and mouth, he made 
the most ferocious looking object it is possible 
to conceive, and if nurses, could portray to obsti¬ 
nate children in true colors the description of a 
mad buffalo bull, the oft-repeated ‘bugaboo’ 
would soon be an obsolete idea. 
“While looking with considerable trepidation 
on the vanquished monarch of the Pawnee plains, 
he started to his feet, and with a jump materi¬ 
ally lessened the distance between us, which so 
scared Paint that he reared backward, nearly 
sliding myself and gun over his tail, and before 
the bridle rein could be tightened, ran some rods, 
but turning his head and setting the rowels of 
my spurs in his flanks, I dashed up within thirty 
feet of the bull, and at the crack of the gun the 
‘poor buffler’ dropped his head, his skin convul¬ 
sively shook, his dark eyes, no, longer fired with 
malignancy, rolled back in the sockets, and his 
spirit departed for the region of perpetual ver¬ 
dure and running waters, beyond the reach of 
white man’s rifle or the keen lance of the prairie 
warrior.” 
And then the picture with which he closes the 
chapter covering the march through the buffalo 
range ! How boyish, and yet how charming and 
how true it is! 
“Good humor reigned triumphant throughout 
the camp. Canadian songs of mirth filled the air, 
and at every mess fire pieces of meat were cook¬ 
ing en appolas; that is, on a stick sharpened, 
with alternate fat and lean meat, making a de¬ 
licious roast. Among others, bondins were roasting 
without any previous culinary operation, but the 
tying of both ends, to prevent the fat, as it was 
liquified, from wasting, and when pronounced 
‘good’ by the hungry impatient judges, it was 
taken off the hot coals, puffed up with the heat 
and fat, the steam escaping from little punctures 
and coiled on the ground, or a not particularly 
clean saddle blanket, looking for all the world 
like a dead snake. 
“The fortunate owner shouts, ‘Hyar’s the 
doin’s, and hyar’s the ’coon as savys “poor bull” 
from “fat cow”; freeze into it, boys!’ And all 
fall to, with ready knives, cutting off savory 
pieces of this exquisitely appetizing prairie pro¬ 
duction. 
“At our mess fire there was a whole side of 
ribs roasted. When browned thoroughly we 
handled the long bones, and as the generous fat 
dripped on our clothes, we heeded it not, our 
minds wrapped up with the one absorbing 
thought of satisfying our relentless appetites. 
Progressing in the work of demolition, our eyes 
closed with ineffable bliss. Talk of an emperor’s 
table! Why, they could imagine nothing half so 
good. The meal ended, the pipe lent its aid to 
complete our happiness, and at night we retired 
to the comfortable blankets, wanting nothing, 
caring for nothing.” 
Late in October the train met with the advance 
guard of a party of Cheyenne warriors, then oh 
the warpath for scalps and horses against the 
Pawnee nation. These were the first really wild 
Indians that Garrard had seen, and their pictur¬ 
esqueness and unusual appearance greatly in¬ 
terested him. In those days the Cheyennes had 
never been at war with the white people, and 
they were on terms of especial friendliness with 
Bent and St. Vrain, from whose trading posts 
they obtained their supplies. A little later, on 
the way to Bent’s Fort, they passed a Cheyenne 
medicine lodge, with its sweathouse, and later 
still Indian graves on scaffolds which rested on 
the horizontal limbs of the cottonwood trees. A 
day or two after this they reached Fort William, 
or Bent’s Fort, where they met William Bent, in 
his day one of the best known men of the 
Southern plains. A few days were spent there, 
and then came the most interesting adventure 
that the boy had had. 
Early in November he started for the Chey¬ 
enne village with John Smith who, with his wife, 
his little boy Jack and a Canadian, were setting 
out for the village to trade for robes. 
John Smith is believed to have been the first 
white man ever to learn the Cheyenne language, 
so as to be able to interpret it into English. 
When he made his appearance on the plains we 
do not know, but he was there in the ’30’s, and 
for many years was employed by Bent and St. 
Vrain to follow the Indians about and trade with 
them for robes. Early in his life on the plains 
he had married a Cheyenne woman and estab¬ 
lished intimate relations with the tribe, among 
whom he remained for many years. He was 
present in the camp of the Cheyennes during the 
Chivington massacre at Sand Creek, in 1864, at 
which time his son, Jack, the child mentioned by 
Garrard in this volume, was killed by the sol¬ 
diers, being shot in the back by a soldier who 
saw his shadow on the lodge skins and fired at 
it. It is said that John Smith himself came very 
near being killed, and had a hard time to talk 
the Colorado soldiers out of killing him. He has 
a son now living at Pine Ridge. 
The small party journeyed on toward the vil¬ 
lage, and while Pierre, the Canadian, drove the 
wagon and the woman and her child rode in 
silence, Smith and Garrard kept up a lively con¬ 
versation. Smith was anxious to learn all about 
the “States” and life there, while Garrard re¬ 
plied to him with inquiries about Indians and 
their ways. And so, day after day, they jour¬ 
neyed over the plain until the cone-shaped lodges 
of the village came in sight, to be reached a few 
hours later. Riding into the camp, they halted 
at the lodge of one of the principal men, and 
unsaddling and unpacking their animals there, 
entered it with their goods, and according to 
custom established themselves in the back part, 
which was at once given up to them by the host. 
And now began an entirely new life for Garrard 
-—a life into which he threw himself with the 
whole-hearted enthusiasm of a healthy lad, and 
which he thoroughly enjoyed. The days and 
evenings in the camp; the moving from place to 
place over the prairie; the misfortunes which 
happened to the men unaccustomed to such life 
are all described. Vivid glimpses of the march¬ 
ing Indian column are given in the following 
paragraphs: 
“The young squaws take much care of their 
dress and horse equipments. They dashed furi¬ 
ously past on wild steeds, astride of the high- 
pommeled saddles. A fancifully colored cover, 
worked with beads and porcupine quills, making 
a flashy, striking appearance, extended from 
wethers to rump of the horse, while the riders 
evinced an admirable daring, worthy of Ama¬ 
zons. Their dresses were made of buckskin, 
high at the neck, short sleeves, or rather none 
at all, fitting loosely, and reaching obliquely to 
the knee, giving a relieved Diana look to the 
costume; the edges scalloped, worked with beads 
and fringed. From the knee downward the limb 
was encased in a tightly fitting leggin, terminat¬ 
ing in a neat moccasin, both handsomely worked 
with beads. On the arms were bracelets of brass 
which glittered and reflected in the radiant morn¬ 
ing sun, adding much to their attractions. In 
their pierced ears shells from the Pacific shore 
were pendant, and to complete the picture of 
savage taste and profusion their fine complex¬ 
ions were eclipsed by a coat of flaming vermil- 
lion. 
“Many of the largest dogs were packed with 
a small quantity of meat or something not easily 
injured. They looked queerly, trotting industri¬ 
ously under their burdens, and judging from a 
small stock of canine physiological information, 
not a little of the wolf was in their composition. 
These dogs are extremely muscular and are com¬ 
pactly built. 
“We crossed the river on our way to the new 
camp. The alarm manifested by the ki-kun 
(children) in the lodgepole drays, as they dipped 
in the water, was amusing. The little fellows 
holding their breaths, not daring to cry, looked 
imploringly at their inexorable mothers, and 
were encouraged by words of approbation from 
their stern fathers. Regaining the grassy bot¬ 
tom we once more went in a fast walk. 
“The different colored horses, the young In¬ 
dian beaux, the bold bewildering belles, and the 
newness of the scene were gratifying in the ex¬ 
treme to my unaccustomed senses. After a ride 
of two hours we stopped, and the chiefs, fasten¬ 
ing their horses, collected in circles to smoke the 
pipe and talk, letting their squaws unpack the 
animals, pitch the lodges, build fires, arrange the 
robes; and, when all was ready, these ‘lords of 
creation' dispersed to their several homes to wait 
until their patient and enduring spouses prepared 
some food. I was provoked, nay, angry, to see 
the lazy, overgrown men do nothing to help their 
wives, and when the young women pulled off 
their bracelets and finery to chop wood, the cup 
of my wrath was full to overflowing, and in a 
fit of honest indignation I pronounced them un¬ 
gallant and savage in the true sense of the word. 
A wife here is, indeed, a helpmeet.” 
Bravery, endurance and hardihood were in 
those days a part of the education of each In¬ 
dian boy, and here is a glimpse of the training 
received by a baby, which should fit him for the 
hardships that each warrior must endure. This 
was the grandson of the Vip-po-nah, a boy six 
or seven months old: 
“Every morning his mother washed him in 
cold water and sent him out to the air to make 
him hardy. He would come in perfectly nude 
from his airing, about half frozen. How he 
would laugh and brighten up as he felt the 
warmth of the fire! Being a boy, the parents 
have great hopes of him as a brave and chief 
(the acme of Indian greatness). His father 
dotes upon him, holding him in his arms, sing¬ 
ing in a low tone, and in various ways showing 
his extreme affection.” 
Among the subjects discussed by Garrard and 
John Smith before they reached the Cheyenne 
village had been that of food. Smith spoke of 
