into a lodge, and I saw one buck Indian
crawling in a circle, with bucks and squaws around him,
was chanting a weird, wild song. I took it
to be some sort of ceremony, but did not understand its meaning.
gave no sign of breaking camp, and the grass
was getting short because of the large herds of horses they had,
Piah said, "This old Indian campground,
for long, long, time. You move." I said, "Indian ponies
over on Willow Gulch. Good grass there."
Piah said, "No. You go Willow Gulch. This old Ute campground."
the Indian agent if he did not leave.
"All right, you write." Piah said. In a few days
telling Piah to move. "He say that?"
Piah says. "Yes. Here is the letter." "All right, Ute go."
they had broken camp and gone,
trailing their teepee poles behind their horses, as is their custom.
no more Agency permits were granted,
and no more Utes troubled any ranchman on the plains.'