The distance to the Oto village is about twenty-five miles; on the journey over the prairies, they espied an object at a distance, which was mistaken for a man, standing upon an eminence. The Indians immediately halted, when Herochshe addressed them, with the assurance that they must put their trust in the Master of life, and in their leader; and observed, that, having journeyed thus far on their business, they must not return until their purpose was accomplished; that if it was their lot to die, no event could save them; "We have set out my braves,"[25] said he, "to eat of the Otoes' victuals, and we must do so or die;" the party then proceeded {33} onward. The Indians are always very cautious when approaching an enemy's village, on any occasion, and this party well knew that their enterprize was full of danger.
In a short time they were again brought to a halt, by the appearance of a considerable number of men and horses, that were advancing towards them. After some consultation and reconnoitring, they sat down upon the ground, and lighting the peace-pipe, or calumet, Herochshe directed the stem of it towards the objects of their suspicion, saying, "smoke friend or foe;" he then directed it towards the Oto village, towards the white people, towards heaven, and the earth, successively.
The strangers, however, proved to be drovers, with cattle for the troops, on their way to Council Bluff.
In consequence of being thus detained, it was late in the afternoon when the party arrived at the Platte river, and as they had still eight miles to travel, and it was indispensable to their safety that they should reach the village before dark, Mr. Dougherty urged his horse rapidly forwards. The Indians, who were all on foot, ran the whole distance, halting but twice, in order to cross the Elk Horn and Platte rivers, although one of them was upwards of sixty years of age, and three of the others were much advanced in years.
As they drew near the Oto village, they were discovered by some boys, who were collecting their horses together for the night, and who, in a telegraphic manner, communicated intelligence of their approach, to the people of the village, by throwing their robes into the air.
The party was soon surrounded by the inhabitants, who rushed towards them, riding and running with the greatest impetuosity. The greatest confusion reigned for some time, the Otoes shouting, hallooing, and screaming, whilst their Konza visitors lamented aloud. Shaumonekusse soon arrived, and restored a {34} degree of order, when, the business of the mission being made known in a few words, the Konzas were taken up behind some of the horsemen, and conveyed as rapidly as possible to the lodge of Shongotongo, lest personal violence should be offered them on the way. They did not, however, escape the audible maledictions of the squaws as they passed, but were stigmatized as wrinkled-faced old men, with hairy chins, &c., ugly faces, and flat noses.
After running this species of gauntlet, they were quietly seated in the lodge, where they were sure of protection. A squaw, however, whose husband had been recently killed by the Konzas, rushed into the lodge, with the intention of seeking vengeance by killing one of the ambassadors on the spot. She stood suddenly before Herochshe, and seemed a very demon of fury. She caught his eye, and at the instant, with all her strength, she aimed a blow at his breast with a large knife, which was firmly grasped in her right hand, and which she seemed confident of sheathing in his heart. At that truly hopeless moment, the countenance of the warrior remained unchanged, and even exhibited no emotion whatever; and when the knife approached its destination, with the swiftness of lightning, his eyes stood firm, nor were its lids seen to quiver; so far from recoiling, or raising his arm to avert the blow, that he even rather protruded his breast, to meet that death which seemed inevitable, and which was only averted by the sudden interposition of the arm of one of her nation, that received the weapon to its very bone.
Thus foiled in her attempt, the squaw was gently led out of the lodge, and no one offered her violence, or even harsh reproof. No further notice was taken of this transaction by either party.
Food was then, as usual, placed before the strangers, and soon after a warrior entered with a pipe, which he held whilst Herochshe smoked, saying in a loud voice, "you tell us that you wish for peace, I say, I {35} will give you a horse, let us see which will be the liar, you or I." The horse was presented to him.
The evening, and much of the night was passed in friendly conversation respecting the events of the five years' war which they had waged with each other.