About midway between our party and the dusky group that stood watching us the four embassadors met. The Indians proved to be a band of Cheyennes, under White Wolf, or, as he is more frequently called, Medicine Wolf, out on the war-path against the Pawnees. The Wolf was a fine-looking man, six feet four in height, straight as an arrow, and developed like a giant. Being a chief, he possessed the regalia and warranty deed of one, consisting of a ragged military coat without any tail, and a dirty letter from some Indian agent, with a lie in it over which even a Cheyenne must have smiled, telling how White Wolf loved the whites. Perhaps he did; his namesake loves spring lamb.
Our guide was an indifferent interpreter, but had no difficulty in understanding that the Indians were hungry and wished something to eat. In all my experience from that day to this I have never found an Indian who was not hungry, except once. The exception was an old fellow who, although enough of an Indian to be habitually drunk, was so degenerate a specimen in other respects as to be somewhat dyspeptic. His stomach had repudiated, after receiving a deposit from a trader of one hundred pickled oysters, and had temporarily closed its doors. His stock of gastric juices seemed to have been well-nigh bankrupted by a fifty years' discounting of jerked buffalo. The one hundred tons of this compound which the noble warrior had dissolved would have exhausted the liquid of a tannery. Let these savages of the plains meet a white man, whenever or wherever they may, their first demand is always for meat and drink, followed not unfrequently by another for his scalp. The victim may have but a day's rations, and be a hundred miles from any station where more can be obtained, but his all is taken as greedily and remorselessly as if he commanded a commissary train.
The Professor and our guide motioned White Wolf and his companion to wait, and rode back to us for the purpose of casting up our account of ways and means. The only chance of balancing it seemed to be by sight draft on Shamus' wagon or an entry of war. We dare not refuse them and go on; they would be sure to dog our steps, and at the first convenient opportunity attack and probably murder us. Shamus, with recovered courage, stoutly protested against a raid upon his department. "To think," he expostulated, "of the swate sausage and ham bein' used to wad such painted carcasses as them divils!" The guide suggested as the best alternative that we should invite the Indians to return with us to Hays. We caught at the idea and adopted it immediately; and while the guide rode back as the bearer of our invitation, we "stood to arms," awaiting the result with silent but ill-concealed solicitude.
Should the Indians consider it an attempt to trap them, our bones might have an opportunity to rest in some neighboring ravine until the ready spades of some future geological expedition should disturb them, and we be at once reconstructed into some rare species of ancient ape or specimens of extinct salamanders. Or, if happily resurrected at a somewhat earlier period, might not some enterprising Barnum of the twentieth century place on our bones the seal of centuries, and lay them with the mummies in his showcases? Our expedition was partly intended for diving into the past, but not quite so deep or so permanent a dive as that. What wonder that incipient ague-chills played up and down and all about our spinal column, as we reflected how completely we were dependent on the caprice of those Native Americans sitting out there, in half-naked dignity, on their tough ponies? Or that we gazed anxiously at the huge chief as he sat, silent and motionless, awaiting the approach of our guide?
Our ideas of the savage had been so thoroughly Cooperised during boyhood, that when our guide approached the Wolf, and, with a gesture to the south, invited him back to Hays, I was prepared to see the tall form straighten in the saddle, and pictured to my imagination some such specimen of untutored eloquence as this:
"Pale-face, the blood of the Cheyenne burns quick. He meets you trailing like a serpent across his war-path, seeking to steal treasures from the red man's land. He asks food, and you tell him to come into your trap and get it. Pale-faces, remove your hats; noble Cheyennes, remove their scalps!"
Nothing of this kind occurred, however. Our guide informed us that the bold savage simply fastened one button of his tailless coat, grunted out "Ugh!" in a satisfied way, and motioned his band to follow. This they did, and we were soon retracing our steps to Hays; by the guide's advice, making the savages keep a fair distance behind us.
The roofs of Hays glistened across the plains, as they say those of Damascus do in the East. We had formed a boy's romantic acquaintance with that land, where the sun burns and the simooms frolic, and once were quite enamored of its wild Bedouins of the desert. Our manhood was now experiencing the sensation of seeing a tribe fiercer than their eastern brethren, not exactly at our doors, because we had none, but following very closely at our heels.
As our strange cavalcade re-entered the town the people stopped to gaze a moment, and then came out to meet us. News flew to the fort, and some of the officers rode over. The Land Company's office was selected for a council room, the Cheyennes tying their ponies to the stage corral near. The Indians were a strange-looking crew. Sachem declared them all women, and Dobeen affirmed that they looked more like a covey of witches than warriors. With their long hair divided in the middle, and falling, sometimes in braids and again loosely, over their shoulders, and their blankets hanging around them, they did really look much like the traditional squaw who so kindly assists one in cutting his eye-teeth at Niagara Falls, with her sharp practice and cheap bead-work. Their faces were as smooth as a woman's, without the least trace of either mustache or whiskers; so that, altogether, when we essayed to pick out some females, we got completely "mixed up," and were at length forced to the conclusion that the majestic White Wolf was traveling over the plains with a copper-colored harem.
Cooper having told us that the Indian term of reproach is to be or to look like a woman, we avoided offense and the "arrows of outrageous fortune" which an Indian is so dexterous in using, and gained the information desired by addressing a direct inquiry to White Wolf, through the interpreter, whether he had any squaws along. He replied by holding up two fingers and pointing out the couple thus designated. We tried to find, first in their features and then in their clothing, some distinguishing characteristic but found it impossible; so that when they changed positions an instant afterward, I was entirely at a loss to recognize them again.