Chapter V p65
VISITING THE INDIAN CAMP. Nov. 20. Early this morning our young chief, whom we call Louis, aroused us to prepare for a march to the northward. We struck our tent at once, and prepared our luggage, which the women packed upon their horses with skill and care, having abundance of raw-hide thongs for the purpose. All the labor of pitching and of striking tents, of arranging and packing baggage, and of carrying little children, pertains to the women, while the men stand or sit and look idly on. The men carry nothing, but mount their horses like rangers, riding independently, deploying to the right and left of the trail in search of game, and rushing upon it at lightning speed when seen. While the squaws move along in Indian file on a gentle trot, the males are seen darting off in tangents, raising the dust on many lines over the plains, or standing or wheeling on the summits of distant hills, carefully scanning the surrounding p66 landscape in hope of descrying a herd of grazing guanacos. Whether successful or unsuccessful they soon return to the track, often ahead of the caravan, when, after moving on for a few miles in a waving line, they again repeat the old manoeuvre in search of game. The horses that we have seen thus far are small, but hardy and fleet, and quite obedient to the wills of their masters. We were surprised to see the burdens they carried. The women slung our chest (3 feet by 1½) on one side of a horse, with a good-sized trunk on the other to balance it. On these they placed 54