A smooth prairie, about two miles in width, alone separated the Indian from the groves in which the Agency was nestled. A few yards in front of him was a low hillock, between two thick clusters of bushes. He sauntered to the top, and looked around. To the left was a small clump of bushes, fringing the bottom of the hill; but beyond, in that direction, there was no object to break the spotless green of the prairie. It stretched far off to the northward, until its distant verge was mingled with the haze of the sky. To his right was another clump of thicket, which clustered at the base of the hill, and swept off to a distant ravine. At a short distance beyond this, a long line of lofty timber, rising above a crowded under-brush, stretched off through the prairie, until it joined the forest of the Missouri. All appeared clear of enemies. So, wrapping his robe still closer around him, the Indian was preparing to quit his stand, when his quick eye was caught by the quivering motion of a bush in the thicket at the bottom of the hill on his left. In an instant every sense was on the alert;—it might be a deer, or it might be a lurking foe. He paused, and watched in breathless silence. The bush was again agitated; the painted head of an Indian emerged from among the leaves, and the form of another was dimly seen crouching in the bushes.
The Otoe at once recognised them for Sioux, the bitterest and most powerful foes of his tribe. His loud taunting laugh, accompanied by the Otoe war cry, announced to the lurking savages that they were discovered. In an instant they sprang forth, and raised the well-known war cry of their tribe.
The Otoe fled down the opposite side of the hill, making for a thicket of bushes and vines at its foot. As he ran he grasped the stem of his pipe in one hand, and the stone bowl in the other. He protruded the end beyond his side, in such a manner as to lead his enemies to suppose that he was armed with a rifle, and carrying it at full cock, ready to be discharged.
His pursuers, to the number of four, followed at his heels, like a pack of hounds in full cry. They gained upon him, for age had stiffened his joints; but by dint of hard straining he gained the covert of brushwood, leaving them full two hundred yards behind. A shout betrayed their disappointment. The wary old savage now threaded his way, swiftly but with great caution, through the thick maze of bushes. He scarcely bended a twig or rustled a leaf, lest it should catch the observant eyes or quick ears of the Sioux, whom he could perceive lurking round, though keeping out of rifle-shot distance.
At last the motion of a large bush, through which he was endeavouring to force a passage, revealed his position. In an instant each Indian fitted an arrow to his bow, and stood ready to let fly his shaft the moment he could get sight of the game; but they were still careful to keep beyond the reach of the supposed rifle. At length they drew nearer, and stood upon the edge of a ridge, not more than a hundred yards off. An arrow could not be sent with certainty at that distance; but a bullet could. The Otoe suddenly raised his wild-looking head above the bushes, and levelled his pipe. A loud yell burst from the Sioux, and they darted below the ridge of the hill, beyond his sight, to escape the dreaded shot. The moment that they disappeared, the Otoe sprang forward and ran. He had succeeded in gaining several hundred yards through the underwood, when his route was again detected. He again raised his head above the bushes; his pipe was again to his shoulder, and pointed in the direction of the hostile group. Once more they disappeared beneath the ridge, and he pushed forward in his course. This manœuvre was repeated several times, till the Otoe came to where the thicket terminated, and was only separated by about three hundred yards of open prairie from the wooded bottom of the Missouri.
Seizing the moment of another dispersion of his foes, he burst from the bushes and fled for the timber. He had nearly reached it, when a loud whoop announced that his flight was discovered. His pursuers were obliged to force a path through an intervening skirt of brushwood. This gave him some advantage, and he gained the timber just as they were emerging from the thicket which he had deserted. After rushing rapidly through the underwood for a long distance, and after several turnings and doublings, he gradually lost all sounds of pursuit, and reached the Agency in safety, all glorious at having beaten off a war party by means of a pipe.
CHAP. XXII.
THE METAMORPHOSIS.
We had been attending a feast given at the lodge of the Iotan chief, and were returning through the town, towards the little eminence on which the white canvass of our tents was fluttering in the wind. As we passed one of the lodges, we observed a group of females in front of it, busily engaged in exposing to the heat of the sun a large quantity of shelled corn. This was done by scattering it upon a buffalo-skin tent, spread upon the ground for the purpose. One squaw attracted our attention, from her gigantic height; most of the Indian females being under, rather than above the middle size. As we approached her, there was a masculine coarseness in the features of her face which rendered her hideously ugly, and formed a contrast highly in favour of the group around her. We afterwards learned that this strange being, though now clad in the garb of a female, and performing the most menial of their offices, was in reality a man, and had once ranked among the proudest and highest braves of the Otoe nation. His name had once stood foremost in war, and in council. He had led on many an expedition against their noble, but bitter foes, the Osages. In the midst of his bright career he stopped short; a change came over him, and he commenced his present life of degradation and drudgery.
The cause of the change was this. He had been for several weeks absent upon a war expedition against his usual enemies, the Osages. At a little before sunset, on a fine afternoon, a band of Indians were seen coming over the hills, towards the Otoe village. It was a troop of way-worn warriors. They counted less than when they started; but their tale of scalps, and their fierce brows when they spoke of the death of their comrades, told that those comrades had not been unavenged. In front of them strode the stately form of the brave. He was wearied with fatigue and fasting; and without staying to receive the greetings of his fellow-townsmen, he hastened to his lodge, and threw himself upon one of the bearskins which form an Indian bed; and there he remained for the night. In the morning he arose from his couch; but he was an altered man. A change, fearful and thrilling, had come over him. His eye was quenched; his proud step wavered; and his haughty frame seemed almost sinking beneath the pressure of some heavy calamity.