CHAPTER IV.
Receiving Horses.—Departure from Grand Pawnees.—Crossing the Platte.—The Iotan’s Wife.
The morning at length arrived upon which we were to take our leave of the Grand Pawnees, and shape our course for the village of the Pawnee Republicans. It is situated upon the Loup fork of the Platte river, about twenty miles distant.
The couriers appointed to carry the tidings of our approach to the nation, had left the village the night before. We were now drawn out in the area in front of the lodge, awaiting the movements of the soldiers who were scattered around, some driving in, and others searching for, the horses, on the small islands of the Platte.
The chief of the Pawnee Republican village, after lingering with us till the last moment, started forward across the river. In the dim distance we could perceive his flake-white horse skimming like a bird over the crests of the hills. Now he disappeared in their deep, undulating hollows, now he again flashed for an instant on the eye as he passed over the brow of some more distant ridge. He was pushing forward to reach his village, and marshal his warriors.
In about half an hour, the soldiers returned, driving in the horses, and commenced saddling them for the march.
In the meantime, those Indians who had promised horses on the first day of our meeting, brought them up. A young Indian first came forward, and led up a bright, jet-black mare—after him followed another, holding in his hand a long buffalo tug, or halter, which restrained the wild motions of a two years’ old colt. His colour was snowy white, here and there broken with spots of brown. He had been caught wild from the prairies but a few weeks before. He was a slave, but he had never been mounted—his back had never bent to a burden. They led him up in his own native wildness—his tail stood out—his ears were pricked up—his eyes starting—his nostrils expanded—and every hair of his long mane seemed almost erect with an undefinable feeling of terror. At one moment he dashed swiftly around at the full stretch of the long tug which secured him—then pausing, and shaking his long mane over his head, he fixed the gaze of his almost bursting eyes upon his captor. Then raising his head, and casting a long, lingering, and almost despairing gaze upon the hills of the prairie, which till then had been his home, he made a desperate leap forward, dragging to the ground the Indian who held the end of his halter. Others, however, rushed to his assistance, and held him in. The crowd then attempted to close round him, but he reared upon his hind legs, and kept them at bay, with rapid and powerful blows of his fore feet. At length a young Indian who was standing near, threw off his robe and crept cautiously towards the animal from behind. With a sudden leap he bounded upon his back, and seized the tug, which was secured in his mouth. Before this, the efforts of the animal had been violent; but when he felt the burden upon his back—when he felt the curbing hand of his rider—he sent up a shrill and almost frantic scream—he bounded in the air like a wild-cat—he reared, he plunged, but in vain; his rider was a master hand, and retained his seat as unmoved as if he had constituted part of the animal itself. He curbed him in—he lashed him with his heavy whip, until he crouched like a dog upon the prairie. His spirit was crushed; and the last spark of freedom was extinguished. Shortly after, one of the hunters came up and tied a pack upon his back. He made no resistance, and they led him off with the rest, to finish his days in drudgery and toil.
In the meantime the other Indians led up their horses. It was evident that many of them had made their promises in the excitement of the moment. They were now fulfilling them as matters of conscience, not of inclination; and their horses were valuable in proportion. One was lame, another blind; one had large patches of skin galled upon his back, and the ears of another were cropped close to his head. In fine it was evident that they had selected the very worst of their animals for the fulfilment of their promises. Our stud was a collection of the maimed, the halt, and the blind. One after another they came lingering up, until one Indian alone lagged behind. The chief inquired for him, and was told that he had gone out to search for his animal. Ten minutes elapsed. At last there was a movement in the crowd, and a sly-looking, old white-headed Indian made his way through it. In his hand he held the end of a long buffalo tug: the other was secured to his horse. Such a horse! he was blind of both eyes; his tail had been cut off short to his rump; his ribs stood out in bold relief; and his very joints creaked, as he walked stiffly after his leader. As for his age there was no mode of telling it, as his teeth had long since dropped out; but it must have been incalculable.
There was a smothered giggling among the women, and a downright squall of laughter among the children, as the horse stalked forwards towards its future owner. The old Indian moved towards Mr. E——, and without raising his head placed the end of the halter in the hand of one of the soldiers. There was a deal of mischief in his look, and I could hear a smothered chuckle rattling beneath the folds of his robe, as he drew it up over his face, and disappeared among the crowd.
We now mounted and started at a rapid pace for the banks of the river. The heavy lumbering wagons followed more slowly, and a train of about half the village brought up the rear.
Upon reaching the banks we found that the Otoes were already on their way through the river. Some were wading up to their arm-pits; others, had missed the ford, and were swept down the stream, holding their blankets high over their heads to keep them dry, as they struggled across the rushing current. Others, mounted on horses which they had trafficked for with the Pawnees, were dashing and spattering through the shallow parts of the river, or clinging to the manes of their steeds, as they ploughed their way through the deep current.
The river at this place was nearly two miles broad, here and there interspersed with small islands. The depth was ever varying; in some places it was but a few inches, in others it must have been from ten to twenty feet. At one moment, the water scarce reached the fetlocks of your horse—the next step sent him floundering up to the holsters.
After reaching the banks of the river, a short consultation was held. The heavy baggage wagons were then sent forward, with two Indians to guide them over the ford. After them followed the dearborn wagons. One was driven by an old soldier, who kept steadily in the wake of the teams. Two mules drew the other. They were driven by our half-French, half-devil Joe, who was seated upon the dash-board of the wagon, swearing in broken English, sometimes at the animals, and at others, at the slow pace of the oxen which dragged the wagons in front. For some time, he followed steadily in their train; but at length his patience became exhausted, and he determined to drive forward at all hazards. He plied his whip upon the flanks of the mules. At the first application they stopped short—at the second they kicked up—but at the third they commenced moving forward—for they had learnt by long experience, that the patience and perseverance of their driver in the application of the lash, were sufficient to overcome even their own almost inexhaustible fund of obstinacy, and ill nature. Half a dozen steps brought the water up to the bottom of the wagon. The mules doubted, but the driver whipped on. Another half a dozen steps, and the water gushed over the sides into the wagon—still the lash was busy. The next moment the beasts were swimming, with only the tips of their noses and ears, visible above the surface. The wagon had disappeared beneath the water, and the head of the driver, shaded by a broad-brimmed hat, went skimming along the surface, pouring out a steady stream of French and English oaths, jumbled into one common mass. Occasionally an arm was flourished above the water, inflicting a little chastisement upon the nose and ears of the animals, which caused them to dip under the water, with a prodigious increase of snorting, but not much acceleration of speed. At length, however, the deep water was passed, and after drifting about a hundred yards down the river, the wagon gradually rose above the surface, and travelled slowly up the opposite bank.
The rest of the party then commenced their march in Indian file across the ford, keeping in a line with a tall Indian, who led the way. Most of the party followed the guide; but some of our horses were restive, and missing the ford, drifted us a short distance down the stream, where we reached a small island, and scrambling up its bank, galloped across to the opposite side.
Here we found a wife of the Iotan chief, standing on the edge of the water. She had accompanied him from his village. She was young, tall, and finely formed; her face, next to that of the wife of the Kioway Indian, was the most beautiful we had met with. Her hair was parted across her forehead, and hung down upon her shoulders. A small jacket of blue cloth, was fastened round her shoulders and breast, and a mantle of the same, was wrapped around her body. They had been presented to her by the commissioner, but a few days before. She was standing upon a small sand-bar, and the water was gurgling around her feet; a short distance in front of her, a deep channel was rushing with a powerful current. She looked at the water, and then at her dress, with an expression of almost childish sorrow, for, to swim the river would ruin her finery. The Indians had all reached the opposite bank, and were waiting for the rest to come up, so that no assistance could be expected from them.
Just then the hunters dashed by her, into the deep channel, but did not even notice her. I was the last of the party, and she knew it; for though we could not speak the same language, there was an imploring expression in her large dark eye as she fixed it upon me, that told every thing. Still I hesitated: I thought of pushing on; there was a powerful struggle between selfishness and a desire to assist her; she saw it, and speaking a few words in her own silvery tongue, she at the same time pointed to her new dress.
There was something so sorrowful in the tone and gesture, that I could not resist it. I took my rifle in my left hand, and reaching out my right, she seized it; she placed her foot on mine, and, with a sudden bound, was upon the back of my horse, stooping behind me, with her arms round my neck. The horse had so long been accustomed to have his own way in every thing, that he grew very indignant at this new imposition—but a lunge of the spurs subdued his wrath, and he bounded forward into the rushing river. He was a powerful animal, and took to the water like a sea-fowl. The river rushed and roared around us, and we could feel the strong nervous quivering of his limbs, as he bore up against it. But occasionally as he went snorting along, he cast back spiteful glances at his riders. I expected mischief, and it came to pass. We felt his hoofs touch the bottom—three leaps—he was up the bank—his heels flew in the air—the arms of the squaw were jerked violently from my neck, and I saw her describing a somerset through the air; she landed upon her feet and received no injury. The Indians raised a shout of laughter, and the horse, satisfied with being relieved from his extra burden, jogged quietly on towards the Republican village.