"As the hour for the opening of the council grew nearer, the tall, muffled warriors poured in, in one continuous stream. They moved quietly to the places allotted them, and seating themselves in silence round the chief, according to their rank.... The crowd continued flowing in until the lodge was filled almost to suffocation. As they came in, they seated themselves, until five or six circles were formed, one beyond the other, the last ranging against the wall of the building. In the ring nearest the chiefs, sat the principal braves, or those warriors whose deeds of blood entitled them to a high rank in the councils of the nation. The more distant circles were filled by such young men of the village as were admitted to its councils. The passage leading to the open air, was completely blocked up with a tight wedged mass of women and children, who dared venture no nearer to the deliberations of the tribe." (Op. cit., pp. 48-50.) When all had gathered the chief filled a large stone pipe, took a few puffs, then handed it to the members of the commissioner's party, who in turn passed it to the other Indians. The addresses were then made and the council deliberated on the several questions presented. The expedition moved on from the Grand Pawnee to the village of the Republican Pawnee, which stood on the bank of the Loup Fork of the Platte, some 20 miles distant from the former, with the rolling prairie between. Approaching the river they could see, on the far side, "a high bluff, on which was situated the dingy lodges of the Republican village." They were welcomed by the people of the village, and soon reached the lodge of the principal chief, Blue Coat, which they entered. Then "it was not long before the lodge became crowded. The old warriors moved with a hushed step across the building, and listened to our conversation." Soon an invitation was received to attend a feast at the lodge of the second chief. Entering that lodge, he was seen seated upon "a small leather mat.... Around him were lounging about a dozen Indians. Some, reclining with their backs against the pillars supporting the roof, with their eyes half closed, were smoking their stone pipes. Some were lying half asleep upon the clay floor, with their feet within a few inches of the fire; and others were keeping up a sleepy song. "At a short distance from the fire, half a dozen squaws were pounding corn, in large mortars, and chattering vociferously at the same time. In the farther part of the building, about a dozen naked children, with faces almost hid by their bushy, tangled hair, were rolling and wrestling upon the floor, occasionally causing the lodge to echo to their childish glee. In the back ground, we could perceive some half dozen shaggy, thievish-looking wolf dogs, skulking among the hides and bundles, in search of food, and gliding about with the air of dogs, who knew that they had no business there." (Op. cit., pp. 96-99.) Such was a domestic scene within a Pawnee lodge.