As this band and the Shoshonies were at deadly feud, on account of old grievances, and as neither party stood in awe of the other, it was feared some bloody scenes might ensue.  Captain Bonneville, therefore, undertook the office of pacificator, and sent to the Eutaw chiefs, inviting them to a friendly smoke, in order to bring about a reconciliation.  His invitation was proudly declined; whereupon he went to them in person, and succeeded in effecting a suspension of hostilities until the chiefs of the two tribes could meet in council.  The braves of the two rival camps sullenly acquiesced in the arrangement.  They would take their seats upon the hill tops, and watch their quondam enemies hunting the buffalo in the plain below, and evidently repine that their hands were tied up from a skirmish.  The worthy captain, however, succeeded in carrying through his benevolent mediation.  The chiefs met; the amicable pipe was smoked, the hatchet buried, and peace formally proclaimed.  After this, both camps united and mingled in social intercourse.  Private quarrels, however, would occasionally occur in hunting, about the division of the game, and blows would sometimes be exchanged over the carcass of a buffalo; but the chiefs wisely took no notice of these individual brawls.

One day the scouts, who had been ranging the hills, brought news of several large herds of antelopes in a small valley at no great distance.  This produced a sensation among the Indians, for both tribes were in ragged condition, and sadly in want of those shirts made of the skin of the antelope.  It was determined to have “a surround,” as the mode of hunting that animal is called.  Everything now assumed an air of mystic solemnity and importance.  The chiefs prepared their medicines or charms each according to his own method, or fancied inspiration, generally with the compound of certain simples; others consulted the entrails of animals which they had sacrificed, and thence drew favorable auguries.  After much grave smoking and deliberating it was at length proclaimed that all who were able to lift a club, man, woman, or child, should muster for “the surround.”  When all had congregated, they moved in rude procession to the nearest point of the valley in question, and there halted.  Another course of smoking and deliberating, of which the Indians are so fond, took place among the chiefs.  Directions were then issued for the horsemen to make a circuit of about seven miles, so as to encompass the herd.  When this was done, the whole mounted force dashed off simultaneously, at full speed, shouting and yelling at the top of their voices.  In a short space of time the antelopes, started from their hiding-places, came bounding from all points into the valley.  The riders, now gradually contracting their circle, brought them nearer and nearer to the spot where the senior chief, surrounded by the elders, male and female, were seated in supervision of the chase.  The antelopes, nearly exhausted with fatigue and fright, and bewildered by perpetual whooping, made no effort to break through the ring of the hunters, but ran round in small circles, until man, woman, and child beat them down with bludgeons.  Such is the nature of that species of antelope hunting, technically called “a surround.”