pleasant places, on a running water, in the midst of grass, shaded by cedar and cotton-wood.
Each tent was set apart, the cross-poles peering upwards through the buffalo skins.
Each wigwam showed a side of elk or antelope.
The winter chase was done, the summer ramble yet unfixed.
The younger bucks were eager for a raid: more than the others, Manuel
, a restless member of Cornea's band.
aspired to be a chief.
Already he was known along the Border as the biggest thief in New Mexico
But he raged and raved in vain.
The hunters needed rest, and were enjoying the delights of spring.
Cornea, Sabeta, and the other captains, smoked the pipe of peace, while Manuel
and the younger bucks lay sprawling in the sunshine, watching their squaws at work, and dallying with their tawny imps.
Old squaws were drying skins and pounding maize; young squaws were gathering twigs and lighting fires.
The Ute encampment was an image of the pastoral life, as lived by all these pagan tribes.
“ Get up, my children!”
cried the seer; “ come up with me into the land of the Green River
-our ancient hunting-grounds.
There you shall see the Great Spirit face to face.
There you shall tread ”