Indian girls, dressed in elaborate costumes, served the repast, the elder women preparing the food.  Looking on, it seemed to me to be the most beautiful sight I had ever seen—­the grim old generals, who for the last four and a half years had been fighting a great war sitting serenely and contentedly down to meat and drink with the chiefs of a wild, and, till lately, a hostile race.

After all had eaten, the great chief, Satanta, loaded the big peace-pipe, whose bowl was hewn from red stone, with a beautifully carved stem eighteen inches long.  The pipe was passed from mouth to mouth around the circle.  After the smoke was ended Satanta raised his towering bulk above the banqueters.  He drew his red blanket around his broad shoulders, leaving his naked right arm free, for without his right arm an Indian is deprived of his real powers of oratory.  Making signs to illustrate his every sentence, he spoke: 

“My great white brothers, I welcome you to my camp and to my people.  You can rest in safety, without a thought of fear, because our hearts are now good to you—­because we hope that the words you are going to speak to us will make us glad that you have come.  We know that you have come a long way to see us.  We feel that you are going to give us or send us presents which will gladden the hearts of all my people.

“I know that you must be very tired, and as I see that your tents are pitched it would make our hearts glad to walk over to your village with you, where you can rest and sleep well, and we hope that you will dream of the many good things are going to send us and tell us when you rested.

“I have sent to your tents the choicest of young buffalo, deer, and antelope, and if there is anything else in my camp which will make your hearts glad I will be pleased to send it to you.  If any of your horses should stray away, my young men will bring them back to you.”

As the old chief concluded, General Sherman, rising, shook his hand and said: 

“My red brother, your beautiful and romantic reception has deeply touched the hearts of my friends and myself.  We most heartily thank you for it.  When we are rested, and after we have slept in your wild prairie city, we should like to hold a council with the chiefs and warriors congregated here.”

When the officers returned to their own camp they agreed that the feast was very grand, that the Indian maidens who served it were very pretty in their gay costumes and beautiful moccasins.  Most of them, however, had observed that the hands of the squaws who did the cooking looked as if they had not touched water for several months.  It stuck in the memory of some of the guests that, in their efforts to clean the tinware, the squaws had left more soap in the corners than was necessary.  The coffee had a strong flavor of soap.

“If we are going to have a banquet every day,” said one officer, “I think I’ll do my eating in our own camp.”