“Scratch shouted above the noisy hubbub of those war chiefs and headmen pressing up behind them. “I’ll be et for the devil’s tater if’n that don’t look ever’ bit like ronnyvoo camps down there!” “Can’t claim as I ever saw that many Injuns in one place myself!” Robert Meldrum hollered. “Look at all them lodges and pony herds too.” Both of those white men could understand the Crow tongue being growled back and forth among the thirty-eight warriors, chiefs, and old headmen who had accepted Tom Fitz...patrick’s invitation to join the other tribes of the High Plains and Rocky Mountains at this momentous gathering near Fort Laramie. These men of the north had every right to be more than a little anxious as they started down the long, low slope into the broad, yawning valley of the North Platte, where more than ten thousand of their most inveterate enemies awaited their arrival. Because they had the shortest distance to travel, the Cheyenne, along with bands of the Oglalla and Brulé Sioux, had been camping here for close to a month, since the end of August.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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