"We hated once the Spaniards and the Watchinangoes (Mexicans)," they say, "but they were honourable men compared with the thieves of Texas.
The few among the Spanish race who would fight, did so as warriors; and they had laws among them which punished with death those who would give or sell this poison to the Indians."
The consequence of this abstinence from spirits is, that these Western nations improve and increase rapidly; while, on the contrary, the Eastern tribes, in close contact with the Yankees, gradually disappear.
The Sioux, the Osage, the Winnebego, and other Eastern tribes, are very cruel in disposition; they show no mercy, and consider every means fair, however treacherous, to conquer an enemy. Not so with the Indians to the west of the Rocky Mountains. They have a spirit of chivalry, which prevents them taking any injurious advantage.
As I have before observed, an Indian will never fire his rifle upon an enemy who is armed only with his lance, bow, and arrows; or if he does, and kills him, he will not take his scalp, as it would constantly recall to his mind that he had killed a defenceless foe. Private encounters with their enemies, the Navahoes and Arrapahoes, are conducted as tournaments in the days of yore. Two Indians will run full speed against each other with their well-poised lance; on their shield, with equal skill, they will receive the blow; then, turning round, they will salute each other as a mark of esteem from one brave foe to another.
Such incidents happen daily, but they will not be believed by the Europeans, who have the vanity of considering themselves alone as possessing "le sentiment du chevalresque et du beau;" besides, they are accustomed to read so many horrible accounts of ma.s.sacres committed by the savages, that the idea of a red skin is always a.s.sociated in their mind with the picture of burning stakes and slow torture. It is a mistake, and a sad one; would to G.o.d that our highly civilized nations of Europe had to answer for no more cruelties than those perpetrated by the numerous gallant tribes of Western America.
I was present one day when a military party came from Fort Bent, on the head of the Arkansa, to offer presents and make proposals of peace to the Comanche council. The commander made a long speech, after which he offered I don"t know how many hundred gallons of whisky. One of the ancient chiefs had not patience to hear any more, and he rose full of indignation. His name was Auku-wonze-zee, that is to say, "he who is superlatively old."
"Silence," he said; "speak no more, double-tongued Oposh-ton-ehoc (Yankee). Why comest thou, false-hearted, to pour thy deceitful words into the ears of my young men? You tell us you come for peace, and you offered to us poison. Silence, Oposh-ton-ehoc, let me hear thee no more, for I am an old man; and now that I have one foot in the happy grounds of immortality, it pains me to think that I leave my people so near a nation of liars. An errand of peace! Does the snake offer peace to the squirrel when he kills him with the poison of his dreaded glance? does an Indian say to the beaver, he comes to offer peace when he sets his traps for him? No! a pale-faced Oposh-ton-ehoc? or a "_Kish emok comho-anac_" (the beast that gets drunk and lies, the Texan), can alone thus he to nature--but not a red-skin, nor even a girlish Wachinangoe, nor a proud "_Shakanah_" (Englishman), nor a "_Mahamate kosh ehoj_"
(open-heart, open-handed Frenchman).
"Be silent, then, man with the tongue of a snake, the heart of a deer, and the ill-will of a scorpion; be silent, for I and mine despise thee and thine. Yet, fear not; thou mayest depart in peace, for a Comanche is too n.o.ble not to respect a white flag, even when carried by a wolf or a fox. Till sunset eat, but alone; smoke, but not in our calumets; repose in two or three lodges, for we can burn them after pollution; and then depart, and say to thy people, that the Comanche, having but one tongue and one nature, can neither speak with nor understand an Oposh-ton-ehoc.
"Take back thy presents; my young men will have none of them, for they can accept nothing except from a friend; and if thou look"st at their feet, thou shalt see their moca.s.sins, their leggings, even their bridles, are braided with the hair of thy people, perhaps of thy brothers. Take thy "Shoba-wapo" (fire-water), and give it to drink to thy warriors, that we may see them raving and tumbling like swine.
Silence, and away with thee. Our squaws will follow ye on your trail for a mile, to burn even the gra.s.s ye have trampled upon near our village.
Away with you all, now and for ever! I have said!!!"
The American force was numerous and well armed, and a moment, a single moment, deeply wounded by these bitter taunts, they looked as if they would fight and die to resent the insult; but it was only a transient feeling; for they had their orders, and they went away, scorned and humiliated. Perhaps, too, an inward voice whispered to them that they deserved their shame and humiliation; perhaps the contrast of their conduct with that of the savages awakened in them some better feeling, which had a long time remained dormant, and they were now disgusted with themselves and their odious policy.
As it was, they departed in silence, and the last of their line had vanished under the horizon before the Indians could smother the indignation and resentment which the strangers had excited within their hearts. Days, however, pa.s.sed away, and with them the recollection of the event. Afterwards, I chanced to meet, in the Arkansas, with the Colonel who commanded. He was giving a very strange version of his expedition; and as I heard facts so distorted, I could not help repeating to myself the words of Auku-wonze-zee, "The Oposh-ton-ehoc is a double-tongued liar!"
CHAPTER XXIII.
One morning, Roche, Gabriel, and myself were summoned to the great council lodge; there we met with the four Comanches whom we had rescued some days before, and it would be difficult to translate from their glowing language their warm expressions of friendship and grat.i.tude. We learned from them, that before the return of the Cayugas from the prairie they had concealed themselves in some crevices of the earth until night, when they contrived to seize upon three of the horses, and effect their escape. At the pa.s.sage of the great chasm they had found the old red sash of Roche, which they produced, asking at the same time permission to keep it as a token from their Pale-face brothers. We shook hands and exchanged pipes. How n.o.ble and warm is an Indian in his feelings.
In the lodge we also perceived our friend of former days, "Opishka Koaki" (the White Raven); but as he was about to address the a.s.sembly, we restrained from renewing our acquaintance, and directed all our attention to what was transacting. After the ordinary ceremonies, Opishka Koaki commenced:--
"Warriors, I am glad you have so quickly understood my messages; but when does a Comanche turn his back on receiving the vermilion from his chief? Never! You know I called you for war, and you have come. "Tis well. Yet, though I am a chief, I am a man. I may mistake; I may now and then strike a wrong path. I will do nothing, attempt nothing, without knowing the thoughts of my brave warriors. Then hear me!
"There live under the sun a nation of Reds-kins, whose men are cowards, never striking an enemy but when his back is turned, or when they number a hundred to one. This nation crawls in the prairies about the great chasms; they live upon carrion, and have no other horses but those they can steal from the deer-hearted Watchinangoes. Do my warrior? know such a people? Let them speak! I hear!"
At that moment a hundred voices shouted the name of Cayugas.
"I knew it!" exclaimed the chief, "there is but one such a people with a red skin; my warriors are keen-sighted, they cannot be mistaken. Now, we Comanches never take the scalp of a Cayuga any more than that of a hedge-hog; we kick them out of our way when they cross our path; that"s all. Hear me, my braves, and believe me, though I will speak strange words: these reptiles have thought that because we have not killed them as toads and scorpions, it was because we were afraid of their poison.
One thousand Cayugas, among other prisoners, have taken eight Comanches; they have eaten four of them, they would have eaten them all, but the braves escaped; they are here. Now, is an impure Cayuga a fit tomb for the body of a Comanche warrior? No! I read the answer in your burning eyes. What then shall we do? Shall we chastise them and give their carcases to the crows and wolves? What say my warriors; let them speak?
speak? I hear?"
All were silent, though it was evident that their feelings had been violently agitated. At last, an old chief rose and addressed Opishka:--
"Great chief," said he, "why askest thou? Can a Comanche and warrior think in any way but one? Look at them! See you not into their hearts?
Perceive you not how fast the blood runs into their veins? Why ask? I say; thou knowest well their hearts" voice is but the echo of thine own.
Say but a word, say, "Let us go the Cayugas!" Thy warriors will answer: "We are ready, show us the path!" Chief of a mighty nation, thou hast heard my voice, and in my voice are heard the thousand voices of thy thousand warriors."
Opishka Koaki rose again. "I knew it, but I wanted to hear it, for it does my heart good; it makes me proud to command so many brave warriors.
Then to-morrow we start, and we will hunt the Cayugas even to the deepest of their burrows. I have said!"
Then the four rescued prisoners recounted how they had been taken, and what sufferings they had undergone. They spoke of their unfortunate companions and of their horrible fate, which they should have also shared had it not been for the courage of the three Pale-face brothers, who killed five Cayugas, and cut their bonds; they themselves killed five more of their cowardly foes and escaped, but till to-day they had had no occasion of telling to their tribe the bravery and generosity of the three Pale-faces.
At this narrative all the warriors, young and old, looked as though they were personally indebted to us, and would have come, one and all, to shake our hands, had it not been for the inviolable rules of the council lodge, which forbids any kind of disorder. It is probable that the scene had been prepared beforehand by the excellent chief, who wished to introduce us to his warriors under advantageous circ.u.mstances. He waved his hand to claim attention, and spoke again.
"It is now twelve moons, it is more! I met Owato Wanisha and his two brothers. He is a chief of the great Shoshones, who are our grandfathers, far--far under the setting of the sun beyond the big mountains. His two brothers are two great warriors from powerful nations far in the east and beyond the Sioux, the Chippewas beyond the "Oposh-ton-ehoc[20]," even beyond the deep salt-water. One is a "Shakanah" (Englishman), the other a "Naimewa" from the "Maha-mate-kosh-ehoj" (an exile from the French). They are good and they are brave: they have learned wisdom from the "Macota Konayas" (priests), and Owato Wanisha knows how to build strong forts, which he can better defend than the Watchinangoes have defended theirs. I have invited him and his brother to come and taste the buffalo of our prairies, to ride our horses, and smoke the calumet of friendship. They have come, and will remain with us till we ourselves go to the big stony river (the Colorado of the West). They have come; they are our guests; the best we can command is their own already; but they are chiefs and warriors. A chief is a chief everywhere. We must treat them as chiefs, and let them select a band of warriors for themselves to follow them till they go away from us.
[Footnote 20: Americans.]
"You have heard what our scouts have said; they would have been eaten by the Cayugas, had it not been for our guests, who have preserved not only the lives of four men--that is nothing--but the honour of the tribe. I need say no more; I know my young men; I know my warriors; I know they will love the strangers as chiefs and brothers. I have said."
Having thus spoken, he walked slowly out of the lodge, which was immediately deserted for the green lawn before the village. There we were sumptuously entertained by all the princ.i.p.al chiefs and warriors of the tribe, after which they conducted us to a new tent, which they had erected for us in the middle of their princ.i.p.al square. There we found also six magnificent horses, well caparisoned, tied to the posts of the tent; they were the presents of the chiefs. At a few steps from the door was an immense shield, suspended upon four posts, and on which a beaver, the head of an eagle, and the claws of a bear were admirably painted--the first totem for me, the second for Gabriel, and the third for Roche. We gratefully thanked our hospitable hosts, and retired to rest in our rich and elegant dwelling.
The next morning we awoke just in time to witness the ceremony of departure; a war party, already on horseback, was waiting for their chief. At the foot of our shield were one hundred lances, whose owners belonged to the family and kindred of the Indians whom we had rescued from the Cayugas. A few minutes afterwards, the owners of the weapons appeared in the square, well mounted and armed, to place themselves at our entire disposal. We could not put our authority to a better use than by joining our friends in their expedition, so when the chief arrived, surrounded by the elders of the tribe, Gabriel advanced towards him.
"Chief," he said, "and wise men of a brave nation, you have conferred upon us a trust of which we are proud. To Owato Wanisha, perhaps, it was due, for he is mighty in his tribe; but I and the Shakanah are no chiefs. We will not decline your favour, but we must deserve it. The young beaver will remain in the village, to learn the wisdom of your old men, but the eagle and the bear must and will accompany you in your expedition. You have given them brave warriors, who would scorn to remain at home; we will follow you."
This proposition was received with flattering acclamations, and the gallant army soon afterwards left the village on its mission of revenge.
The Cayugas were, before that expedition, a powerful tribe, about whom little or nothing had ever been written or known. In their customs and manners of living they resemble in every way the Club Indians of the Colorado, who were destroyed by the small-pox. They led a wandering prairie life, but generally were too cowardly to fight well, and too inexpert in hunting to surround themselves with comforts, even in the midst of plenty. Like the Clubs, they are cannibals, though, I suspect, they would not eat a white man. They have but few horses, and these only when they could be procured by stealth, for, almost always starving, they could not afford to breed them, always eating the colts before they could be useful.
Their grounds lie in the vicinity of the great fork of the Rio Puerco, by lat. 35 degrees and long. 105 degrees from Greenwich. The whole nation do not possess half-a-dozen of rifles, most all of them being armed with clubs, bows, and arrows. Some old Comanches have a.s.sured me that the Cayuga country abounds with fine gold.
While I was with the Comanches, waiting the return of the expedition, I had an accident which nearly cost me my life. Having learned that there were many fine ba.s.ses to be fished in a stream some twenty miles off, I started on horseback, with the view of pa.s.sing the night there. I took with me a buffalo-hide, a blanket, and a tin cup, and two hours before sunset I arrived at the spot.
As the weather had been dry for some time, I could not pick any worms, so I thought of killing some bird or other small animal, whose flesh would answer for bait. Not falling in with any birds, I determined to seek for a rabbit or a frog. To save time, I lighted a fire, put my water to boil, spread my hide and blanket, arranged my saddle for a pillow, and then went in search of bait, and sa.s.safras to make tea with.
While looking for sa.s.safras, I perceived a nest upon a small oak near to the stream. I climbed to take the young ones, obtained two, which I put in my round jacket, and looked about me to see where I should jump upon the ground. After much turning about, I suspended myself by the hands from a hanging branch, and allowed myself to drop down. My left foot fell flat, but under the soft sole of my right moca.s.sin I felt something alive, heaving or rolling. At a glance, I perceived that my foot was on the body of a large rattle-snake, with his head just forcing itself from under my heel.
Thus taken by surprise, I stood motionless and with my heart throbbing.
The reptile worked itself free, and twisting round my leg, almost in a second bit me two or three times. The sharp pain which I felt from the fangs recalled me to consciousness, and though I felt convinced that I was lost, I resolved that my destroyer should die also. With my bowie-knife I cut its body into a hundred pieces; walked away very sad and gloomy, and sat upon my blanket near the fire.
How rapid and tumultuous were my thoughts! To die so young, and such a dog"s death! My mind reverted to the happy scenes of my early youth, when I had a mother, and played so merrily among the golden grapes of sunny Frances and when later I wandered with my father in the Holy Land, in Italy and Egypt. I also thought of the Shoshones, of Roche and Gabriel, and I sighed. It was a moral agony; for the physical pain had subsided, and my leg was almost benumbed by paralysis.
The sun went down, and the last carmine tinges of his departed glory reminded me how soon my sun would set; then the big burning tears smothered me, for I was young, very young, and I could not command the courage and resignation to die such a horrible death. Had I been wounded in the field, leading my brave Shoshones, and hallooing the war-whoop, I would have cared very little about it; but thus, like a dog! It was horrible! and I dropped my head upon my knees, thinking how few hours I had now to live.
I was awakened from that absorbing torpor by my poor horse, who was busy licking my ears. The faithful animal suspected something was wrong, for usually at such a time I would sing Spanish ditties or some Indian war-songs. Sunset was also the time when I brushed and patted him. The intelligent brute knew that I suffered, and, in its own way, showed me that it partic.i.p.ated in my affliction. My water, too, was boiling on the fire, and the bubbling of the water seemed to be a voice raised on purpose to divert my gloomy thoughts. "Aye, boil, bubble, evaporate,"
exclaimed I; "what do I care for water or tea now?"
Scarcely had I finished these words, when, turning suddenly my head round, my attention was attracted by an object before me, and a gleam of hope irradiated my gloomy mind: close to my feet I beheld five or six stems of the rattlesnake master weed. I well knew the plant, but I had been incredulous as to its properties. Often had I heard the Indians speaking of its virtues, but I had never believed them. "A drowning man will seize at a floating straw." By a violent effort I got up on my legs, went to fetch my knife, which I had left near the dead snake, and I commenced digging for two or three of the roots, with all the energy of despair.
These roots I cut into small slices, and threw them in the boiling water. It soon produced a dark green decoction, which I swallowed; it was evidently a powerful alkali, strongly impregnated with a flavour of turpentine. I then cut my moca.s.sin, for my foot was already swollen to twice its ordinary size, bathed the wounds with a few drops of the liquid, and, chewing some of the slices, I applied them as a poultice, and tied them on with my scarf and handkerchief. I then put some more water to boil, and, half an hour afterwards, having drank another pint of the bitter decoction, I drew my blanket over me. In a minute or less after the second draught, my brain whirled, and a strange dizziness overtook me, which was followed by a powerful perspiration, and soon afterwards all was blank.
The next morning I was awakened by my horse again licking me. He wondered why I slept so late. I felt my head ache dreadfully, and I perceived that the burning rays of the sun for the last two hours had been darting upon my uncovered face. It was some time before I could collect my thoughts, and make out where I was. At last the memory of the dreadful incident of the previous evening broke upon my mind, and I regretted I had not died during my unconsciousness; for I thought that the weakness I felt was an effect of the poison, and that I should have to undergo an awful lingering death. Yet all around me, nature was smiling. Thousands of birds were singing their morning concert, and, at a short distance, the low and soft murmuring of the stream reminded me of my excessive thirst. Alas! well hath the Italian bard sung,--
"Nessun maggior dolore Che riccordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria!"--DANTE.