CHAPTER X.
Leaving Republican Village.—Prairie between that and Tappage Village.—Reception by Tappages.—Departure.—White Cranes.—Black Chief of the Loups.—Reception.—Chief’s Lodge.—Soldier Chief’s Feast.
The next morning about ten o’clock, we set off for the village of the Tappage Pawnees, situated upon the Loup fork of the Platte, about eleven miles farther up the river. As we left the town, a crowd of men, women and children followed us, in the hope of obtaining presents. The chief too, escorted us out. He was a princely man. His head was shorn, excepting the scalp-lock; his face was free from paint; a long string of wampum, the only ornament he ever wore, hung from his neck; a blue blanket covered one shoulder, leaving bare his high, prominent chest, and the sinewy arm which curbed the restless movement of his fretted horse. He had been used to the saddle from childhood, and now governed his impatient animal, with the calm controul of a practised rider.
There is nothing upon which the Indians pride themselves, more than their horsemanship. Almost living in the saddle, they are as much at ease, when mounted, as when sitting upon the floor of their own lodge. Many a time, I have seen two or three village urchins, beset some unfortunate horse, while quietly dozing and ruminating, upon the prairie. After sundry coaxings and efforts, they would succeed in mounting upon his back, and then without saddle or bridle, and with a whoop and yell, that terrified the startled steed into a full gallop, they would scamper madly along, clinging to his mane, and to each other, with a tenacity which would have astonished any one but an Indian.
After accompanying us about a mile, the chief returned, followed by a number of his warriors. The rest joined our band, and travelled in company, for the purpose of witnessing our reception by their rival village. Our pace was slow, being regulated by that of the oxen, who toiled painfully along in the rear.
The prairie was beginning to show the effects of the autumn frost, and the grass wore a blighted, withered look. The sun shone red and lurid through the hazy atmosphere, denoting what at this season of the year, is called among the whites, Indian summer. Not a breeze rustled the dry grass, or rippled the swift, glassy waters of the Platte. Every thing was quiet, except the loud voice of the teamster, expostulating with his oxen; or an occasional crack, from the whip of Joseph, as he urged forward his mules.
Now and then, we came upon large droves of horses, belonging to the Republican village. They were roving along the banks of the Platte, in bands of several hundred, prancing, and capering as wildly, as if they were still free, upon their own prairies. Upon our approach, they raised their heads, and gazed fearlessly upon us. Two or three of the largest, then left the herd, and slowly approached. For a moment they remained motionless, then with a loud snort, flinging their heels in the air, they dashed back to the drove, which sped off, with a sound like thunder. Occasionally too, we would pass a small hillock, upon which an Indian stood motionless, watching our movements. There is a classic air about them, when seen at a distance, with their robes flowing in graceful drapery round them, their forms drawn fully up, and their outstretched arms supported by their long spears. As these scouts thus gazed, so calm and motionless, I almost imagined they regarded us with the despair of persons, who knew that their fall was near, but that resistance was hopeless.
While we were yet several miles distant from the village, we observed mounted Indians, driving before them large droves of horses, to be ready for service in the wild ceremony of our reception.
The town of the Tappage Pawnees is situated upon a broad plain overlooking the Platte. It is the smallest of all the Pawnee villages, and contains about a thousand inhabitants. The most of them were now poured out upon the prairie, where we could distinguish them in the distance, drawn up in a motionless body, waiting for the signal to dash forward to meet us.
When we approached sufficiently near, it was given. Once more, we beheld them coming surge-like upon us, and changing their course at the very moment when our ruin seemed inevitable. Again the dizzying evolutions of the troop passed before us. The wild neighing of the horses, mingled in confusion—with the thunder of their hoofs—with the yells and whoops of the Indians, and the clashing sound of their bows and tomahawks. When this was concluded, the ceremony of presenting horses was performed. Half an hour brought us to the town, where as before we found every being on the look out for our coming, and every preparation made, to receive us in a manner worthy of the nation. There is a sameness in Indian customs and habits, which render description tedious. Suffice it to say, that we were received by the chief and his people with all the kindness and hospitality which their means afforded.
About ten o’clock on the next morning we mounted our horses and clattered through the village on our route for the town of the Pawnee Loups, situated about five miles farther up the river. This is the wildest of the four villages, owing perhaps to the savage nature of its chief.
We rode in a straggling string along the low, irregular prairie. The Otoe Indians skirted along the bank of the river. Those of the soldiers, who were not engaged with the teams, reconnoitered the different pools of water, in hopes of coming unawares upon some pensive duck, who might be dozing upon their surfaces. Here and there we observed a broken patch of corn, at the bottom of some ravine, where the washed earth was of so soft a texture as to require but little trouble in cultivation. Occasionally too, we passed a clump of dwarf trees, closely grouped together over the brink of a spring, or run of water. Otherwise the prairie was bare of forest, and covered only with long withered grass.
When we had ridden about half the distance, a number of Otoes came scampering up, to tell us that there were about a dozen white cranes, standing upon a sand-bar in the Platte. This incident, trivial as it may seem, created quite an excitement among the troop. Half a dozen loaded rifles were handed from the wagons, and as many soldiers started off followed by a troop of Indians, with their arrows ready fitted to their bows, in case the firearms of the whites should fail. But all this preparation was useless, for when they arrived within about three hundred yards of the bank, one of the birds, who, like an old man, on a cold day, was standing with his head closely snugged up against his breast, and gazing in moralizing mood upon the swift water, suddenly shot out a neck, three feet long, and turned a quick and steady eye upon the approaching hunters. He gazed a moment, then taking a step, and slowly raising his wings until their tips nearly met over his back, he rose from the earth, as if by mere volition, uttering a shrill cry which brought after him, his startled comrades. As they rose, a shower of bullets whistled after them, without disturbing their flight. They slowly mounted in air floating like a snowflake over the silver Platte. For a few moments they lingered over its shining bosom, as if loth to leave their resting place; but after wheeling in several widely extended circles, they soared to an immense height, and then took a steady course to the eastward and were lost to the sight.
It was not long before we reached a high bluff in the prairie, from whence we descried the village of the Pawnee Loups, about half a mile distant, but we saw no signs of preparation to receive us. A single Indian alone appeared, galloping at full speed over the prairies. His horse was of a dark cream colour, fierce, and powerful. To his bit was attached a scalp, consisting of the whole upper part of a human head, the hair of which must have been full two feet in length, nearly reaching the ground. The horseman proved to be the Black Chief of the Loups. When he had come within a few yards of us, he sprang from his horse, and reached out the bridle to one of our soldiers to hold.
His face was far more swarthy than that of any Indian we had ever seen; but it was not more dark than the nature of the man. He was perfectly naked, with the exception of a pair of leggings of dressed buffalo hide, worn apparently for the sake of displaying a profusion of scalp-locks, with which they were heavily fringed. His frame was not large, but muscular and finely formed. His high chest looked as hard as rock, and the tread of his mocassined foot, was as firm as iron. His whole figure was one, which for fine proportion, and strength, might have served a sculptor, but his scowling face marred the beauty of his person. Yet he had his virtues. He was true to his word, and faithful to his friends; but upon his enemies he let loose every evil passion. The old and the young; the defenceless mother, and the harmless child, alike fell beneath his war-club.
He advanced towards us, and grasped our hands with a grip which would have done credit to a vice; then turning round, he awaited the coming of his warriors, who had now assembled in the prairie.
Minute after minute passed, but still there were no signs of approach. The brow of the Black Chief grew troubled, and his eye darkened, at the delay. Still the minutes passed on, and the band remained motionless. The eye of the chief was nearly hid beneath his scowling brow, and he gnawed at his under lip, with a species of savage calmness. After a moment he called one of the Pawnees, who had accompanied us from the last village, and sent him forward with some instructions to his warriors. The Indian bounded towards the band, but before he had gone more than one quarter of the distance, a loud yell burst from them, and with a heavy, resistless motion, they bore down upon us. The Indian who had started, fled back to the party. At the moment that the cry sounded from the Pawnee Loups, the chief raised his head, and sent up a long, shrill scream in answer; then springing on his horse, he sat motionless, watching with a keen eye, their every movement. They had approached within a hundred yards of the party, when he again raised his voice in a loud whoop, and waving his arm, they separated and rushed to right and left, round us.
But few horses were presented by this village, as a party of Sioux Indians had stolen down upon them but a few weeks before, and swept off nearly one-third of the horses belonging to the town. The chief gave as an excuse, that he had gambled away nearly all that he possessed.[I] This was in fact the truth; for we afterwards learned that the horse which bore him, was the only one left, of a large number that he owned but a short time before.
[I] One of the principal games of the Pawnees, and the one on which the most gambling is carried on, is played by means of a small ring and a long javelin. This ring is about four inches in diameter; and the object of the player, is to hurl his javelin through the ring, while it is sent rolling over the ground, with great speed, by one of his companions in the game. The javelin is filled with barbs nearly the whole length, so that when it has once passed partly through the ring, it cannot slide back. This is done to ascertain how far it went before it struck the edges of the ring, and the farther the cast the more it counts in favour of the one who hurled it. It is practised by the children, young men, and chiefs. The first gamble for single arrows—the second for a bow and quiver—and the last for horses.
Upon reaching the village we found, as usual, crowds of women and children, curious to see us, though they did not press round us as in the other villages. This was owing to the presence of the chief, who rode by our side, and who, in fierce tones, ordered the crowd of gazers to a distance. A concourse had assembled, too, around the entrance of his lodge; but upon our approach, they drew back, and permitted us to pass freely. In the inside we found a few of the principal warriors, who alone had been admitted; the women and the rabble had been prohibited from entering, and they dared not disobey orders. There was a feast, as usual, but we ate little, as we knew what was to follow. Scarce had we finished, before a little urchin was in attendance, to conduct us to the lodge of the Soldier Chief, the second brave in the village. We found him seated at a little distance from the fire, awaiting our arrival. As we entered, he rose, and presented to Mr. E—— a large buffalo robe, upon which was painted a hieroglyphic account of his warlike deeds. After this he seated himself, and commenced describing the different fights, and explaining the meaning of the various symbols.
He was a tall, thin man, with a sharp muscular face, and a deep-sunk eye, which glittered in its socket like that of a basilisk. There was no spare flesh about his frame, but all was brawn, and sinew. His look was that of a person formed for the endurance of great, and continued toil, and his hardened face showed that he had weathered exposures of all descriptions.
He apologised to the commissioner for not having come out with the rest of the tribe to welcome him—being at bitter enmity with the chief, and refusing on all occasions to act in concert with him.
A large bowl of boiled corn was then placed before us, and each of us furnished by the Soldier’s wife with a small dipper of buffalo horn. Having partaken of the mess as sparingly as the laws of Indian politeness would permit, we took our leave. After we had left the lodge, the Indian agent who accompanied us related the following account of a murder which had occurred but a few months previous, and which was the origin of the bitter feud between the Soldier and the Black Chief.