“Then Red Head wanted the woman to go with him into the forest. They sat under a tree and the chief put his head in her lap. She took the sharp weapon, which she carried hidden in her clothes, and drove it into his ear. She hammered it with a stone and killed him; she took his scalp and went away. “Then that young warrior came back to the Blackfoot camp. He told his sweetheart how he killed Red Head and showed her the scalp. He married the girl and became one of the head men of the tribe.” CHAPTER XXVI COUNTRY OF THE NORTH PIEGANS We stayed several days in the camp of the Bloods, to rest our tired horses and to visit the family of One Spot. The Bloods were fine-looking Indians, both men and women. But they were not popular with other tribes. They were proud and considered themselves the aristocrats of the plains. The night before we left their camp we picketed our horses close and made ready for an early start. In hot summer weather, early morning is the best time to travel on the plains. We broke camp before sunrise and followed the shore of the river, looking for a place to ford. The crossing of a broad, swift river is always hazardous, because of washouts, hidden boulders, and stumbling horses. We rode through thickets of poplars and willows. Under the trees lay the golden light of early morning, with purple shadows. Light mists floated along the banks of the river. From the grass and bushes hung countless gems of sparkling dew. Everything was fresh and blooming, the buds and leaves, flowers and perfumes. The fragrant breath of the morning came through thickets, with odors of balsam poplar and wild flowers. Butterflies rested on the first wild roses, bees hummed in the air. Fragrant primroses were in blossom, wild hollyhocks, purple fleabane and the large-flowered agoseris. When we forded the river, I did not hurry my horse, but let him take his time, holding his head a little upstream, to avoid the full force of the rushing water, bending my body to help him in his balance and fixing my eyes on the top of his head, to keep from getting dizzy in the rapid current. Out on the open prairie the birds were calling; near and far the air was filled with their songs. Chestnut-collared longspurs were climbing high into the blue sky, then fluttering slowly to the ground, always against the wind, singing their cheerful rippling song. I heard the calls of ducks and the choruses of prairie chickens, repeating it over and over, the strange cries of cranes as they soared high overhead, and the voices of curlew, killdeer, and Western meadow-larks. Then we climbed to the summit of a ridge and saw before us a great table-land, bounded on the north and west by high hills and distant mountains. It was part in light and part in shadow, with the golden sun rising over a bank of clouds in the east and shining on the snowy peaks of the Rockies in the west—a wide expanse and without any sign of life.