Page:The life and adventures of James P. Beckwourth, mountaineer, scout, pioneer, and chief of the Crow nation of Indians (IA lifeadventuresof00beckrich).pdf/236

226 the bones consisted of seven or eight hundred persons of both sexes. On arriving at the grave, we discovered a new Indian trail passing directly over the spot, and we started in immediate pursuit. After a march of six miles, we came upon a Black Foot village of twenty-seven lodges, who were returning from the trading-post, having made extensive purchases. At sight of them, every warrior's breast kindled with revenge, they remembering the fall of their chief. We charged furiously upon them, killing and taking prisoners about one hundred and fifty of their party. While the warriors were engaged in the attack, our women attacked the Black Foot women, and killed many of them and their children before we could interfere to stop it. We captured quite a number of young women and little boys, with an abundance of horses, weapons, ammunition, scarlet cloth, beads, and sundries. We did not receive a scratch, as we attacked them with such overwhelming numbers that they offered trifling resistance, their chief endeavour being to save themselves by flight.

We took up the body of our chief and returned with it to the camp. Then there was another ceremony of cutting and maiming, and a body of two hundred lodges was sent to deposit the remains in the burial-ground of the chief's ancestors. While this party were away on their mission, those who remained with us busied themselves in collecting the various sorts of fruit with which the country abounded.

I now received my last name—for I was on the pinnacle of my fame, and they could ennoble me no farther—Nan-kup-bah-pah (Medicine Calf).

After tarrying about three weeks, we returned to the fort, where we again spent a short time, and then proceeded to the Big Horn, where we had engaged to meet Bear's Tooth, who had the conduct of the burial party.

While we were resting at the fort, a small party of twenty-three warriors, led by Little Gray Bull, stole from our camp at night, unknown to the chiefs, and when at a safe distance sent us word that they were going to the Cheyenne country in pursuit of spoils. They were the élite of our party, the braves des braves. Not one of that devoted band ever returned. What fate befell them remains to be shown.