Basil. There, Austin! If an Indian chief was killed by a buffalo, what should you do among them? Why they would toss you over their heads like a shuttlecock.
Hunter. Wee-tá-ra-sha-ro, the head chief of the Pawnee Picts, is dead now, I dare say; for he was a very old, as well as a very venerable looking man. Many a buffalo hunt with the Camanchees had he in his day, and many a time did he go forth with them in their war-parties. He had a celebrated brave of the name of Ah′-sho-cole, or “rotten foot,” and another called Ah′-re-kah-na-có-chee, “the mad elk.” Indians give the name of brave to a warrior who has distinguished himself by feats of valour, such as admit him to their rank.
Brian. I wonder that they should choose such long names. It must be a hard matter to remember them.
Hunter. There were many famous men among the Sacs. Kee-o-kuk was the chief. Kee-o-kuk means “the running fox.” One of his boldest braves was Má-ka-tai-me-she-kiá-kiák, “the black hawk.” The history of this renowned warrior is very curious. It was taken down from his own lips, and has been published. If you should like to listen to the adventures of Black Hawk, I will relate them to you some day, when you have time to hear them, as well as those of young Nik-ka-no-chee, a Seminole.
Austin. We will not forget to remind you of your promise. It will be capital to listen to these histories.
Hunter. When I saw Wa-sáw-me-saw, or “the roaring thunder,” the youngest son of Black Hawk, he was in captivity. Náh-se-ús-kuk, “the whirling thunder,” his eldest son, was a fine looking man, beautifully formed, with a spirit like that of a lion. There was a war called The Black Hawk war, and Black Hawk was the leader and conductor of it; and one of his most famous warriors was Wah-pe-kée-suck, or “white cloud;” he was, however, as often called The Prophet as the White Cloud. Pam-a-hó, “the swimmer;” Wah-pa-ko-lás-kak, “the track of the bear;” and Pash-ce-pa-hó, “the little stabbing chief;” were, I think, all three of them warriors of Black Hawk.
Basil. The Little Stabbing Chief! He must be a very dangerous fellow to go near, if we may judge by his name: keep away from him, Austin, if you go to the Sacs.
Austin. Oh! he would never think of stabbing me. I should behave well to all the tribes, and then I dare say they would all of them behave well to me. You have not said any thing of the Crow Indians.
Hunter. I forget who was at the head of the Crows, though I well remember several of the warriors among them. They were tall, well-proportioned, and dressed with a great deal of taste and care. Pa-ris-ka-roó-pa, called “the two crows,” had a head of hair that swept the ground after him as he walked along.
Austin. What do you think of that, Basil? No doubt the Crows are fine fellows. Please to mention two or three more.