We found that the Pawnee village had been rebuilt since it was burnt by the Delawares. It is situate in the open prairie, at the foot of a long range of hills, and within about fifty yards of the Platte. The river at this place is about two miles broad, and very shallow, being constantly forded by the squaws, who visit the different islands, and obtain from them the only fuel and building materials, to be found in this part of the country. The lodges are numerous, and stand close together, without the least regard to regularity. They are built in the same way as those in the Otoe village. On account of the scarcity of wood, several families congregate together in the same lodge. The male portion pass the whole day, lounging and sleeping around, or gorging themselves from the large kettle filled with buffalo flesh, which is perpetually over the fire. As we entered the village, the tops of the lodges were completely covered with women and children, and the area in front of the chief’s dwelling was equally crowded. When we reached the front, the chief, who had ridden in advance of the party, stepped from the dark passage which formed the entrance to his abode, to meet us. He was completely enveloped in a robe of white wolf skin, upon which was painted a hieroglyphic account of his warlike achievements. Upon the approach of Mr. E——, he advanced towards him, and taking the robe from his shoulders, presented it to him, requesting him (through the interpreter) to keep it for his sake. He then ushered the party into his dwelling, and pointed out the place allotted for the reception of the contents of the wagons. After this he called together a number of Indians, and gave them directions to assist in unloading. He stood at the door, watching their movements, to prevent any attempt at purloining—a crime too common among the lower classes of an Indian village. Nearly half an hour elapsed in this way, during which time the lodge was becoming more and more crowded. One dusky form after another glided with a noiseless step over the threshold, moving across to the darkest corners of the lodge. Here they seated themselves upon the ground, and shrouded their shaggy robes around them, so as completely to screen the lower part of their faces. As they fixed their unwavering gaze upon us from the dark parts of the building their eyes seemed to shine out like glowing balls of phosphorus. Not a word was spoken—no undertoned conversation was carried on—all was silence, save the hurried footsteps of those who were busied according to the directions of the chief. No jests were uttered, for we were now under the roof of their leader, and any word spoken in derogation of his guests would have called down instant punishment.