It was the first time we had seen them in a body, and it was a grand sight. Gallant horsemen they were and well mounted. They were out upon an expedition against the Pawnee [15] Loups, and they behaved to us with the greatest kindness and hospitality. The chief knew Gabriel, and invited us to go in company with them to their place of encampment. The chief was a tall, fine fellow, and with beautiful symmetry of figure. He spoke Spanish well, and the conversation was carried on in that tongue until the evening, when I addressed him in Shoshone, which beautiful dialect is common to the Comanches, Apaches, and Arrapahoes, and related to him the circumstances of our captivity on the shores of the Colorado of the West. As I told my story the chief was mute with astonishment, until at last, throwing aside the usual Indian decorum, he grasped me firmly by the hand. He knew I was neither a Yankee nor a Mexican, and swore that for my sake every Canadian or Frenchman falling in their power should be treated as a friend. After our meal we sat comfortably round the fires, and listened to several speeches and traditions of the warriors.
[15] The word Pawnee signifies "exiled;" therefore it does not follow that the three tribes bearing the same name belong to the same nation.
The Grand Pawnees, the tribe among whom Mr. Murray resided, are of Dahcotah origin, and live along the shores of the river Platte; the Pawnee Loups are of the Algonquin race, speaking quite another language, and occupying the country situated between the northern forks of the same river. Both tribes are known among the trappers to be the "Crows of the East;" that is to say, thieves and treacherous. They cut their hair short except on the scalp, as is usual among the nations which they have sprung from.
The third tribe of that name is called Pawnee Pict; these are of Comanche origin and Shoshone race, wearing their hair long, and speaking the same language as all the western great prairie tribes. They live upon the Red River, which forms the boundary betwixt North Texas and the Western American boundary, and have been visited by Mr. Catlin, who mentions them in his work. The Picts are constantly at war with the two other tribes of Pawnees; and though their villages are nearly one thousand miles distant from those of their enemy, their war-parties are continually scouring the country of the "Exiles of the East"--"Pa-wah-nêjs."
One point struck me forcibly during my conversation with that noble warrior. According to his version, the Comanches were in the beginning very partial to the Texans, as they were brave, and some of them generous. But he said that afterwards, as they increased their numbers and established their power, they became a rascally people, cowards and murderers. One circumstance above all fire the blood of the Comanches, and since that time it has been and will be with them a war of extinction against the Texans.
An old Comanche, with a daughter, had separated himself from their tribe. He was a chief, but he had been unfortunate, and being sick, he retired to San Antonio to try the skill of the great pale-face médecin. His daughter was a noble and handsome girl of eighteen, and she had not been long in the place before she attracted the attention of a certain doctor, a young man from Kentucky, who had been tried for murder in the States. He was the greatest scoundrel in the world, but being a desperate character, he was feared, and, of course, courted by his fellow Texans.
Perceiving that he could not succeed in his views so long as the girl was with her father, he contrived to throw the old man into gaol, and inducing her to come to his house to see what could be done to release him, he abused her most shamefully, using blows and violence to accomplish his purpose, to such a degree, that he left her for dead. Towards the evening, she regained some strength, and found a shelter in the dwelling of some humane Mexican.
The old Indian was soon liberated: he found his daughter, but it was on her death-bed, and then he learned the circumstances of the shameful transaction, and deeply vowed revenge. A Mexican gentleman, indignant at such a cowardly deed, in the name of outraged nature and humanity, laid the cause before a jury of Texans. The doctor was acquitted by the Texan jury, upon the ground that the laws were not made for the benefit of the Comanches.
The consequences may be told in a few words. One day Dr. Cobbet was found in an adjoining field stabbed to the heart and scalped. The Indian had run away, and meeting with a party of Comanches, he related his wrongs and his revenge. They received him again into the tribe, but the injury was a national one, not sufficiently punished: that week twenty-three Texans lost their scalps, and fourteen women were carried into the wilderness, there to die in captivity.
The Comanche chief advised us to keep close to the shores of the Rio Grande, that we might not meet with the parties of the Pawnee Loups; and so much was he pleased with us, that he resolved to turn out of his way and accompany us with his men some thirty miles farther, when we should be comparatively out of danger. The next morning we started, the chief and I riding close together and speaking of the Shoshones. We exchanged our knives as a token of friendship, and when we parted, he assembled all his men and made the following speech:--
"The young chief of the Shoshones Is returning to his brave people across the rugged mountains. Learn his name, so that you may tell your children that they have a friend in Owato Wanisha. He Is neither a Shakanath (an Englishman) nor a Kishemoc Comoanak (a long knife, a Yankee). He Is a chief among the tribe of our great-grandfathers, he is a chief, though he is very, very young."
At this moment all the warriors came, one after the other, to shake hands with me, and when this ceremony was terminated, the chief resumed his discourse.