to talk with us, but was forbidden; and we were told not to have
any dealings with him. We did not. The Iotan chief then gave us the
character of the Commanche chief. He seemed to be thinking some time
before he began. 'I know,' said he, 'you must think it strange that I
should fight with the Commanches, and then pay them for their warriors
killed, over {38} our own number lost, and make peace with them. I will
give you my reasons for doing so. Four years ago, this Commanche chief
with his followers, went in company with my father, who was a chief,
and a few of his followers, in search of buffaloes. After they had
killed what they wanted, they divided the meat. The Commanche took all
the best of it, leaving the remains for my father. The old man put up
with it, and said nothing. On their return, close to this place they
met a band of Nabahoes,[41] a nation that had long been at war with
ours, and killed a great number of our people. My father wanted to kill
them, and began to fire upon them. The Commanches joined the Nabahoes,
and together they killed my father and most of his men. He then paid
for the lives he had taken, in horses, giving twenty for my father,
and four for each warrior. I only give two horses for a warrior. I am
now happy. I have killed three times as many of them, as they did of
us, and paid less for it. I know they can never get the upper hand
of me again. This Commanche chief is a mean man, for whenever he has
power, he makes others do as he pleases, or he kills them, and takes
all they have. He wanted to act in this way with you; but I do not
think he could, for you know how to shoot better than he does; and
you would not give up, as long as you had powder and ball and one man
alive.' My father as commander, said, 'his men were all good soldiers,
and knew how to get the advantage in fighting; and that we had plenty
of ammunition and good guns, and were not in the least afraid of being
beaten by them.' 'I think so,' replied the chief; 'But I thank the
Great Spirit, that it happened as it did. I have taken revenge for the
death of my father, and his people, and gained, I hope, at the same
time the love of a good and brave people by defending them.' We assured
him that he had, expressing our thanks for his aid, and regret for
those who had been killed in our defence. 'Yes,' said the chief, 'they
were brave men; but they loved my father, whom they have now gone to
see, where they will have plenty to eat, and drink, without having to
fight for it.' These were his thoughts, as near as I can express them.
The Commanche chief made a second application for permission to talk
with us, which was now granted. His object in conversing {39} with
us, was, as he said, to make friends with us, and induce us to give
him some powder and ball. We told him that we would willingly make
peace with him; but not give him any thing, as we did not break the
peace. He had threatened to kill us, and take our property without any
provocation from us, and certainly, if any present was necessary, it
must come from him. We did not, however, wish any present from him,
and would make peace with him, provided he promised never to kill, or
try to kill a white man. He answered, that he had neither done it, or
intended to do it; that with regard to us, he only sought to frighten
us, so that we should come to his camp, before the Iotans came up, whom
he knew to be not far distant, in order that he might precede them
in trading with us, adding that as he had been so disappointed, he
thought we ought to give him a little powder and ball. Our answer was,
that we had no more ammunition to spare; and that we could not depart
from our resolution of not purchasing a treaty from him; but we would
give him a letter of recommendation to the next company that came in
this direction, by means of which he might trade with them, and obtain
what he wanted of these articles. He consented to a treaty on these
conditions, and lighting his pipes we smoked friends.
He then asked us if we came through the Pawnee village? We answered in
the affirmative. His next question was, had they plenty of ammunition?
Our reply was again, yes. We were then given to understand, that he was
then at war with them, and had been for a number of years, and that he
should soon either make peace with them, or have a general engagement.
He would prefer peace, as they were at war with the Spaniards, as well
as himself. By uniting forces, they could beat the Spaniards, though in
case of a treaty or not, he intended to go against the Spaniards, as
soon as he should return from the country of the Pawnees. He added, 'I
suppose you are friends with the Spaniards, and are now going to trade
with them.' Our commander replied, that we were going to trade with
them, but not to fight for them. That, said the chief, is {40} what
I wanted to know. I do not want war with your people, and should we
accidentally kill any of them, you must not declare war against us, as
we will pay you for them in horses or beaver skins. We did not express
our natural feeling, that the life of one man was worth more than all
the horses or beaver skins, his nation could bring forth; but told him,
that we would not injure his people, unless they did ours, on purpose.
He returned, apparently satisfied, to his camp. We were detained here
until the fourth of November by our promise of awaiting the arrival of
the two men, we had left with our wounded companion. They came, and
brought with them his gun and ammunition. He died the fifth day, after
we had left him, and was buried as decently, as the circumstances would
allow.
On the 5th of November[42] we again set off in company with a party of
Iotans. The Arkansas is here wide and shallow, like the Platte; and
has wide but thinly timbered bottoms on both sides. Extending from the
bottom ten or twelve miles on the south side, are low hills composed
principally of sand. We found travelling upon them very fatiguing,
particularly as we met with no water. Late in the evening we reached
water, and encamped.
The next morning we resumed our journey. We were exceedingly diverted,
during the day, to see the Iotan Indians in company with us, chase
the buffaloes on horseback. They killed them with their arrows. The
force, with which they shoot these arrows, is astonishing. I saw one
of them shoot an arrow through a buffaloe bull, that had been driven
close to our camp. We were again upon level plains, stretching off
in all directions beyond the reach of the eye. The few high mounds
scattered over them could not but powerfully arrest the curiosity. From
the summit of one I again looked down upon innumerable droves of wild
animals, dotting the surface, as they seemed to forget their savage
natures, and fed, or reposed in peace. I indulged the thoughts natural
to such a position and scene. The remembrance of home, with its duties
and pleasures, came upon my mind in strong contrast with my actual
circumstances. {41} I was interrupted by the discharge of guns, and the
screams and yells of Indians. The Iotans had found six Nabahoes a half
a mile from us, and were killing them. Three were killed. The others,
being well mounted, made their escape. The Iotans came to our camp with
their scalps, leaving their bodies to be eaten by wild animals. My
father sent men to bury them. The Iotans danced around these scalps all
night, and in the morning took up the bodies, we had buried, and cut
them in pieces. They then covered themselves with the skins of bears
and panthers, and, taking the hearts of the dead men, cut them into
pieces of the size of a mouthful, and laid them upon the ground, and
kneeling put their hands on the ground, and crawled around the pieces
of hearts, growling as though they were enraged bears, or panthers,
ready to spring upon them, and eat them. This is their mode of showing
hatred to their enemies. Not relishing such detestable conduct, we so
manifested our feelings, that these Indians went to their own camps.
We encamped the evening of the next day near water. Nothing worthy of
record occurred during the journey of the four succeeding days, except
that we came to a small creek called Simaronee.[43] Here we encamped,
and killed some buffaloes, and shod our horses. We travelled up this
stream some distance, and left it on the 15th.
On the 16th we encamped on a creek, where we found four gentle mules,
which we caught. I could not account for their being there. Nothing of
importance occurred in the two last days.
From the 17th to the 20th, we journied without interruption. The
latter day we came in view of a mountain covered with snow, called
Taos mountain. This object awakened in our minds singular but pleasant
feelings. On the 23d we reached its foot. Here Mr. Pratte concealed a
part of his goods by burying them in the ground. We were three days
crossing this mountain.
On the evening of the 26th, we arrived at a small town in Taos, called
St. Ferdinando,[44] situated just at the foot of the mountain on the
west side. The alcalde asked us for the invoice {42} of our goods,
which we showed him, and paid the customary duties on them. This was
a man of a swarthy complexion having the appearance of pride and
haughtiness. The door-way of the room, we were in, was crowded with
men, women and children, who stared at us, as though they had never
seen white men before, there being in fact, much to my surprize and
disappointment, not one white person among them. I had expected to find
no difference between these people and our own, but their language.
I was never so mistaken. The men and women were not clothed in our
fashion, the former having short pantaloons fastened below the waist
with a red belt and buck skin leggins put on three or four times
double. A Spanish knife is stuck in by the side of the leg, and a small
sword worn by the side. A long jacket or blanket is thrown over, and
worn upon the shoulders. They have few fire arms, generally using upon
occasions which require them, a bow and spear, and never wear a hat,
except when they ride. When on horse back, they face towards the right
side of the animal. The saddle, which they use, looks as ours would,
with something like an arm chair fastened upon it.
The women wear upon the upper part of the person a garment resembling
a shirt, and a short petticoat fastened around the waist with a red
or blue belt, and something of the scarf kind wound around their
shoulders. Although appearing as poorly, as I have described, they are
not destitute of hospitality; for they brought us food, and invited us
into their houses to eat, as we walked through the streets.
The first time my father and myself walked through the town together,
we were accosted by a woman standing in her own door-way. She made
signs for us to come in. When we had entered, she conducted us up a
flight of steps into a room neatly whitewashed, and adorned with images
of saints, and a crucifix of brass nailed to a wooden cross. She gave
us wine, and set before us a dish composed of red pepper, ground and
mixed with corn meal, stewed in fat and water. We could not eat it.
She then brought forward some tortillas and milk. Tortillas {43} are a
thin cake made of corn and wheat ground between two flat stones by the
women. This cake is called in Spanish, _metate_. We remained with her
until late in the evening, when the bells began to ring. She and her
children knelt down to pray. We left her, and returned. On our way we
met a bier with a man upon it, who had been stabbed to death, as he was
drinking whiskey.
This town stands on a beautiful plain, surrounded on one side by the
Rio del Norte,[45] and on the other by the mountain, of which I have
spoken, the summit being covered with perpetual snow.
We set off for Santa Fe on the 1st of November. Our course for the
first day led us over broken ground. We passed the night in a small
town, called Callacia, built on a small stream, that empties into the
del Norte. The country around this place presents but a small portion
of level surface.
The next day our path lay over a point of the mountain. We were the
whole day crossing. We killed a grey bear, that was exceedingly fat.
It had fattened on a nut of the shape and size of a bean, which grows
on a tree resembling the pine, called by the Spanish, pinion. We took
a great part of the meat with us. We passed the night again in a town
called Albukerque.[46]
The following day we passed St. Thomas,[47] a town situated on the
bank of the del Norte, which is here a deep and muddy stream, with
bottoms from five to six miles wide on both sides. These bottoms
sustain numerous herds of cattle. The small huts of the shepherds, who
attend to them, were visible here and there. We reached another town
called Elgidonis, and stopped for the night. We kept guard around our
horses all night, but in the morning four of our mules were gone. We
hunted for them until ten o'clock, when two Spaniards came, and asked
us, what we would give them, if they would find our mules? We told
them to bring the mules, and we would pay them a dollar. They set off,
two of our men following them without their knowledge and went into a
thicket, where they had tied the mules, and returned with them to us.
As may be supposed, we gave them both a good whipping. It seemed at
first, that the whole {44} town would rise against us in consequence.
But when we related the circumstances fairly to the people, the officer
corresponding to our justice of the peace, said, we had done perfectly
right, and had the men put in the stocks.
We recommenced our journey, and passed a mission of Indians under the
control of an old priest. After crossing a point of the mountain, we
reached Santa Fe,[48] on the 5th. This town contains between four and
five thousand inhabitants. It is situated on a large plain. A handsome
stream runs through it, adding life and beauty to a scene striking and
agreeable from the union of amenity and cultivation around, with the
distant view of the snow clad mountains. It is pleasant to walk on the
flat roofs of the houses in the evening, and look on the town and plain
spread below. The houses are low, with flat roofs as I have mentioned.
The churches are differently constructed from the other buildings and
make a beautiful show. They have a great number of large bells, which,
when disturbed, make a noise, that would almost seem sufficient to
awaken the dead.
We asked the governor for permission to trap beaver in the river Helay.
His reply was that, he did not know if he was allowed by the law to
do so; but if upon examination it lay in his power, he would inform
us on the morrow, if we would come to his office at 9 o'clock in the
morning. According to this request, we went to the place appointed,
the succeeding day, which was the 9th of November. We were told by the
governor, that he had found nothing, that would justify him, in giving
us the legal permission, we desired. We then proposed to him to give us
liberty to trap, upon the condition, that we paid him five per cent on
the beaver we might catch. He said, he would consider this proposition,
and give us an answer the next day at the same hour. The thoughts of
our hearts were not at all favorable to this person, as we left him.
About ten o'clock at night an express came from the river Pacus,[49]
on which the nobles have their country seats and large farming
establishments, stating, that a large body of Indians had come upon
several families, whom they had either robbed, or {45} murdered. Among
the number two Americans had been killed, and the wife of one taken
prisoner, in company with four Spanish women, one of whom was daughter
of the former governor, displaced because he was an European. The
drum and fife and French horn began to sound in a manner, that soon
awakened, and alarmed the whole town. The frightened women, and the
still more fear-stricken men, joining in a full chorus of screams and
cries, ran some to where the drum was beating in the public square, and
others to our quarters. Upon the first sound of alarm we had prepared
to repel the enemy, whatever it might be, provided it troubled us. When
this group came rushing towards us, the light of the moon enabled us to
discern them with sufficient clearness to prevent our doing them any
injury. We did not sleep any more that night, for the women, having got
the wrong story, as most women do in a case of the kind, told us that
the Commanches were in town, killing the people. We awaited an attack,
without, however, hearing any sound of fire arms. Our conclusion was,
that they were skulking around, dealing out death in darkness and
silence with their arrows; and in the feelings, which were its natural
result, the remainder of the night passed. The first light of morning
showed us a body of four hundred men ready to mount their horses. At
sunrise the governor came to us to ask, if we would aid in the attempt
to recapture the prisoners taken by the Commanches, relating to us the
real cause of the alarm of the preceding night. We complied readily
with his request, as we were desirous of gaining the good will of the
people. Our arrangements were soon made, and we set off in company with
the troops I have mentioned.
The 12th was spent in travelling. We stopped for the night at St.
John's, a small town.[50] On the 13th we reached the spot, where the
murders and robbery were committed. Here we took the course the Indians
had marked in their retreat, stopping only for refreshments. We pressed
on all night, as we found their fires still smoking. At eight on the
morning of the 15th, the trail being fresh, we increased our speed, and
at twelve came in sight of them, as they advanced toward a low gap in
{46} the mountains. We now halted, and counselled together with regard
to the next movements. The commander of the Spaniards proposed, that my
father should direct the whole proceedings, promising obedience on his
own part and that of his troops.
The gap in the mountains, of which I spoke, was made by a stream. The
Indians were now entering it. My father formed a plan immediately, and
submitted it to the Spanish commander, who promised to aid in carrying
it into effect. In conformity to it, the Spaniards were directed to
keep in rear of the Indians, without being seen by them. We took a
circuitous route, screened from sight by the highland, that lay between
us and the Indians, in order to gain unobserved a hollow in advance
of them, in which we might remain concealed, until they approached
within gunshot of us. Our main object was to surprize them, and not
allow them time to kill their captives, should they be still alive.
The party in the rear were to close in, upon hearing the report of our
guns, and not allow them to return to the plain. Our plan seemed to
assure us success. We succeeded in reaching the hollow, in which we
placed ourselves in the form of a half circle, extending from one side
of it to the other, our horses being tied behind us. Every man was then
ordered to prime, and pick his gun afresh. The right flank was to fire
first, the left reserving theirs to give a running fire, that should
enable the right to re-load. The Indians, surrounding the prisoners,
were to be taken as the first aim, to prevent the immediate murder of
them by their captors. My post was in the centre of the line. We waited
an hour and a half behind our screens of rocks and trees, before our
enemies made their appearance. The first object, that came in sight,
were women without any clothing, driving a large drove of sheep and
horses. These were immediately followed by Indians. When the latter
were within thirty or forty yards of us, the order to fire was given.
The women ran towards us the moment they heard the report of our guns.
In doing this they encountered the Indians behind them, and three fell
pierced by the spears of these savages. The cry among us now was, 'save
the women!' Another young man and {47} myself sprang forward, to rescue
the remaining two. My companion fell in the attempt. An Indian had
raised his spear, to inflict death upon another of these unfortunate
captives, when he received a shot from one of our men, that rendered
him incapable of another act of cruelty. The captives, one of whom was
a beautiful young lady, the daughter of the governor before spoken of,
both reached me. The gratitude of such captives, so delivered, may be
imagined. Fears, thanks and exclamations in Spanish were the natural
expression of feeling in such a position. My companions aided me in
wrapping blankets around them, for it was quite cold; and making the
best arrangements in our power for their comfort and safety. This was
all done in less time, than is required to relate it, and we returned
to our post.
The Indians stood the second fire, and then retreated. We pursued
keeping up a quick fire, expecting every moment to hear the Spaniards
in the rear following our example to check them in their retreat; but
we could discover the entrance upon the plain, before we heard any
thing from our Spanish muskets. The Indians then began to yell; but
the Spaniards, after one discharge from their fire arms, fled. Being
mounted on good horses the Indians did not pursue them, but satisfied
as to our numbers, now that we were upon the plain, they rallied,
and rushed upon us. Our commander now ordered us to retreat into the
woods, and to find shelter behind trees, and take aim that every
shot might tell, as it was of the utmost importance, not to waste
ammunition, saying, 'stand resolute, my boys, and we make them repent,
if they follow us, although those ---- Spaniards have deserted us, when
we came to fight for them. We are enough for these ---- devils alone.'
As they came near us, we gave them a scattering though destructive
fire, which they returned bravely, still pressing towards us. It was
a serious contest for about ten minutes, after they approached within
pistol shot of us. From their yells, one would have thought that the
infernal regions were open before them, and that they were about to be
plunged in headlong. They finally began to retreat again, and we soon
{48} put them completely to flight. The Spaniards, though keeping a
safe distance, while this was going forward, saw the state of affairs,
and joined us in the pursuit, still taking especial care not to come
near enough to the Indians, to hurt them, or receive any injury
themselves. After the Indians rallied, we lost ten men, and my father
received a slight wound in the shoulder.
We removed our horses and the rescued captives into the plain, and
encamped. The Spaniards had killed an Indian already wounded, and were
riding over the dead bodies of those on the ground, spearing them and
killing any, who still breathed. My father commanded them to desist,
or he would fire upon them, and the Spanish officer added his order to
the same effect. The latter then demanded of us, the two women, whom
we had rescued, with as much assurance, as though himself had been the
cause of their deliverance. My father replied, by asking what authority
or right he had, to make such a request, when his cowardice withheld
him from aiding in their release? The officer became enraged, and said,
that he was unable to rally his men, and that he did not consider the
captives any safer in our hands than in those of the Indians, as we
were not christians. This insult, coupled with such a lame apology,
only made my father laugh, and reply, that if cowardice constituted a
claim to christianity, himself and his men were prime and undoubted
christians. He added further, that if the rescued women preferred to
accompany him, rather than remain, until he should have buried his
brave comrades, who fell in their defence, and accept his protection,
he had nothing to say. The subjects of our discussion, being present
while it took place, decided the point before they were appealed
to. The youngest said, that nothing would induce her to leave her
deliverers, and that when they were ready to go, she would accompany
them, adding, that she should pray hourly for the salvation of those,
who had resigned their lives in the preservation of hers. The other
expressed herself willing to remain with her, and manifested the same
confidence and gratitude. The enraged officer and his men set off on
their return to Santa Fe.
{49} The sun was yet an hour from its setting. We availed ourselves
of the remaining light to make a breastwork with the timber, that had
drifted down the stream, that we might be prepared for the Indians,
in case they should return. We finished it, and posted our sentinels
by sunset. The governor's daughter now inquired for the individual,
who first met her in her flight from the Indians, and so humanely and
bravely conducted her out of danger, and provided for her comfort. I
cannot describe the gratitude and loveliness, that appeared in her
countenance, as she looked on me, when I was pointed out to her. Not
attaching any merit to the act, I had performed, and considering it
merely as a duty, I did not know how to meet her acknowledgments, and
was embarrassed.
On the morning of the 16th we buried our dead. My father's shoulder
was a little stiff, and somewhat swollen. We saddled our horses, and
began our return journey. I gave up my horse to one of the ladies, and
made my way on foot. We drove the sheep, which escaped the balls,
before us. Our last look at the ground of our late contest gave a
view sufficiently painful to any one, who had a heart; horses and
their riders lay side by side. The bodies of robbers surrounded by the
objects of their plunder would probably remain, scattered as they were,
unburied and exposed to the wild beasts.
We halted in the evening for the refreshment of ourselves and horses.
This done, we again set off travelling all night. The sheep giving out,
we were obliged to leave them. At twelve next day we reached Pacus.
Here we met the father of the youngest of the two ladies accompanied
by a great number of Spaniards. The old man was transported almost
to frenzy, when he saw his daughter. We remained here for the day.
On the morning of the 18th we all set off together, the old governor
insisting, that my father and myself must ride in the carriage with
him; but we excused ourselves, and rode by the side of it with the
interpreter. The father caressed us exceedingly, and said a great many
things about me in particular, which I did not think, I deserved.