He collected his family around him. He told them that the Great Spirit had visited him in a dream, and had told him that he had now reached the zenith of his reputation; that no voice had more weight at the council fire; that no arm was heavier in battle. The divine visitant concluded by commanding that he should thenceforth relinquish all claim to the rank of a warrior, and assume the dress and avocations of a female. The group around him heard him in sorrow; for they prided themselves upon his high and warlike name, and looked up to him as the defender of their hearths. But none attempted to dissuade him from his determination, for they listened to the communications of the deity with a veneration equal to his own.
After speaking with his own family, he made known his intention to the nation. They heard him gravely, and sadly; but they, too, assented to the correctness of his resolution. He then returned to his lodge, and took down his bow from the place which it had occupied, and, snapping it in two, threw the fragments into the fire, and buried the tomahawk and rifle which had often served him in battle. Having finished this, he washed the war paint from his face, and drew the proud eagle’s plume from the scalp-lock. From that hour he ceased to be numbered among the warriors of the nation. He spoke not of battle; he took no part in the councils of the tribe; and no longer raised his voice in the wild war-whoop. He had relinquished everything which he had formerly gloried in, for the lowly and servile duties of a female. He knew that his allotted course was marked out for him; that his future life was destined to be one of toil and degradation; but he had fixed his resolution, and he pursued his course with unwavering firmness. Years had elapsed since he first commenced this life of penance. His face was seamed with wrinkles; his frame was yielding to decrepitude; and his ever scowling eye now plainly showed that the finer feelings of his nature had been choked by the bitter passions of his heart. His name was scarcely mentioned; and the remembrance of his chivalrous character was as a dream in the minds of his fellows. He was neglected and scorned by those who had once looked up to him with love and veneration. He had the misery of seeing others fill the places which he once filled, and of knowing that however exalted he once might have been, and however they might have respected his motives, that he was now looked upon as one of the lowest of the nation.
CHAP. XXIII.
INDIAN DOGS.
There are no greater thieves in existence than the Indian dogs; not even excepting the old squaws, who have made it their amusement for half a century. With the last it is a matter of habit and practice; but with the former it is instinct. It is necessary for their existence that they should be at the same time accomplished thieves and practised hypocrites. They are never fed by their masters, who are always particularly careful to keep every eatable from their reach, their own appetites being generally sufficient to dispose of every thing of that nature. As far as I was able to judge, the only act of pastoral kindness which they ever exerted over their canine flock consisted in flogging them whenever a chance offered.
There is scarcely a lodge which does not patronise at least a dozen of these hangers-on, who, with all their thievishness, are the most pious-looking dogs in existence. Frequently have I observed some gaunt, greedy fellow, who looked as if he had been dieted for a fortnight, steal with a meditative air into the building as if he had strolled in without observing what he was about, so much were his thoughts occupied with more weighty matters. But notwithstanding his absence of mind, the moment his look fastened upon any article of food, a change came over him. The air of abstraction passed away; every latent faculty was called into play; and his eye fairly blazed with a concentration of thievish longing. Then, with a fixed gaze, but with an indifferent, lounging step, he would sidle towards the object of his wishes, waiting only for a favourable opportunity to seize his prize, trusting to fortune to make good his retreat. But should he at that moment catch your eye, his flashing, eager look instantly disappeared, and was succeeded by a meek, deprecating, and unpretending slouch, which seemed to beg that you would not place any improper construction upon his actions.
It was not long before it became known to these gentry that a band of strangers had arrived among them, who were as yet unacquainted with their evil practices. Accordingly they deserted the town, to linger around our tents. The first day was one of jubilee to them, and truly exemplified in us the scriptural saying of “certain men fell among thieves.” But we soon became initiated into their customs, and removed from their reach every thing which we apprehended might be in the slightest degree palatable, or even digestible.
There appeared to be a most cordial hatred existing between them and the old squaws, who, above all things, detested opposition in their line of business, and were unwilling that any interlopers should come in to assist in carrying off a share of those spoils which they considered their own peculiar property.
Among the number of our canine visiters were two who seemed to carry on a co-partnership. The one was a little rakish-looking dog, of a dirty white colour, with pinkish-green eyes, who had quite a buckish way of carrying his tail. He was a mighty pragmatical, self-important little body, and was apparently endeavouring to pass himself off for more than he really was. He ranged between the gentlemen dogs and the rabble dogs of the village. There was a swaggering, self-important air about him, which reminded me strongly of those individuals of the human kind, who are generally to be found in all places attempting to hide their own natural vulgarity under a great show of dare-devil rakish gentility. The boon companion of this dog was his reverse in every respect. He was a lean, shaggy fellow, with a drooping slouch to his tail, and quiet pensive expression of countenance. No one would have suspected him of being the greatest thief in the village; yet such he was, and as such his approaches were most thoroughly discountenanced by all the old squaws, who looked upon him as a most formidable rival. He never attempted to resist their attacks, but fled howling away at the slightest appearance of danger, though half an hour would not elapse before he was as busy as ever. We found that in stealing he far excelled his companion, who made ten times as much bustle in carrying off ten times as little, and who was frequently left to receive the share of punishment due to both.
They continued together for several days. But at length the partnership dissolved, and each went on to steal for his own private benefit. Many were the sly bits which disappeared, and great was the caution used by the occupants of the tents to keep out of their reach every article which they thought would be acceptable. They continued their visits for several days after their real character had been discovered. But having been detected in the act of dragging off a large bag, which contained some twenty pounds of bacon, and having been several times flogged for their evil practices, and finding that the party had now grown quite cautious of their provisions, they deserted us altogether—betaking themselves to the town, and leaving their places to be filled by other dogs, equally ravenous, but less experienced in this art of gaining a livelihood.