About midnight he awakened me, and signified that it was time to be on the move. He first unhobbled his horse, and led him to the bank of the river, which was clayey and very steep, for the purpose of watering him. Here a violent contest took place between the nag and the Indian: the first being afraid to venture down the slippery descent, and the master endeavouring by coaxing and kicking to induce him to advance. He had planted his feet in the very edge of the bank, and although his nose and head were pulled out to a horizontal line, by the efforts of the Indian, the rest of his body was as immoveable, as one of the trees around. The Indian then made signs to me to assist him, for he seemed determined that the horse should drink, whether thirsty or not. I did not feel in a very good humour with him, but as he seemed to wish it, I bestowed a few hearty thwacks upon the hinder parts of the animal, which seemed only to increase his desire to retrograde, instead of advancing. Finding this of no avail, I seized a small sapling, and placing it under his belly, made use of it as a lever, to press him sidewise over the bank. The pressure against his ribs, drove him within a foot of the edge. I placed the pole beyond the verge of the bank, and again made use of it as a lever; it pushed him still nearer. He made a violent effort to resist; but just then the Indian jerked his little halter violently, and over the horse went, treading upon the toes of his master, and sousing heels over head in the river, where he swam up and down, puffing and snorting. Several times he attempted to climb the bank; but rolled back, and floundered in the water. The Indian was now alarmed lest he should be drowned. But he at last succeeded in helping him up the steep, and being satisfied that his thirst was completely quenched, he once more hobbled him, and then signified that we should move forward. Before starting, however, he took from his shoulders his load of venison, and hung it upon a tree. I then followed him silently, though I could not imagine why he had left his venison, or why he travelled on foot, when he had a horse to carry him. We soon came to a river, across which, though full of ice, we waded, and then started forward on a trail which led through a wood. Occasionally I took the lead; but the trail grew so indistinct, that I was obliged to give place to my companion, who always kept on without hesitation.
We had travelled about twelve miles, making many circuits and windings, and striking from one trail to another, until we emerged from the wood, and I found myself again near the bank of the Konzas river. Before me was a large house, with a court-yard in front. I sprang with joy through the unhung gate, and ran to the door. It was open; I shouted; my voice echoed through the rooms: but there was no answer. I walked in. The doors of the inner chambers were swinging from their hinges, and long grass was growing through the crevices of the floor. While I stood gazing around, an owl flitted by, and dashed out of an unglazed window. Again I shouted; but there was no answer: the place was desolate and deserted. I afterwards learned that this house had been built for the residence of the chief of the Konza tribe, but that the ground upon which it was situated, having been discovered to be within a tract, granted to some other tribe, the chief had deserted it, and it had been allowed to fall to ruin.
My guide waited patiently until I finished my examination, and then again we pressed forward. Several times I was deceived by the howling of wolves, which I mistook for the baying of house-dogs; and when I was passing through some dark skirt of timber, and expected to come upon a human habitation, I would be disappointed, by seeing my guide once more launch out into the open prairie. Several times too, my hopes were excited by a light, glimmering in the darkness, which upon coming up, I would discover to proceed from the trunk of a tree, which had caught fire from the burning of the prairies.
Thus we kept on until near daylight, when we emerged from a thick forest, and came suddenly upon a small hamlet. The barking of several dogs, who came flying out to meet us, convinced me that this time I was not mistaken. A light was shining through the crevices of a log cabin; I knocked at the door with a violence, that might have awakened one of the seven sleepers.
“Who dere—and vot de devil you vant?” screamed a little cracked voice from within.
It sounded like music to me. I stated my troubles. The door was opened; a head, garnished with a red night-cap, was thrust out, and after a little parley, I was admitted into the bed-room of the man, his Indian squaw, and a host of children. As, however, it was the only room in the house, it was also the kitchen. I had gone so long without food, that notwithstanding what I had eaten, the gnawings of hunger were excessive, and I had no sooner mentioned my wants, than a fire was kindled, and in ten minutes a meal (I don’t exactly know whether to call it breakfast, dinner, or supper) of hot cakes, venison, honey, and coffee, was placed before me, and disappeared with the rapidity of lightning. The squaw having seen me fairly started, returned to her couch. From the owner of the cabin, I learned that I was now at the Konza Agency, and that he was the blacksmith of the place.
About sunrise I was awakened from a sound sleep, upon a bear-skin, by a violent knocking at the door. It was my Indian guide. He threw out broad hints respecting the service he had rendered me, and the presents he deserved. This I could not deny; but I had nothing to give. I soon found out, however, that his wants were moderate, and that a small present of powder would satisfy him; so I filled his horn, and he left the cabin apparently well pleased.
In a short time I left the house, and met the Konza Agent, General Clark, a tall, thin, soldier-like man, arrayed in an Indian hunting shirt, and an old fox-skin cap.
He received me cordially, and I remained with him all day, during which time he talked upon metaphysics; discussed politics, and fed me upon sweet potatoes. In speaking of my guide, I found that he had departed after receiving a large present from the Agent, to whom he stated that he had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours. I spoke of the deer’s-flesh he had left behind.
“The lying rascal!” said the General, “he said he was starving.”