SOMETHING WORSE THAN FIGHTING INDIANS.--DANCE AT COL. ELLIOTT'S.--
CONSPICUOUS SUIT OF BUCKSKIN.--I MANAGE TO GET BACK TO BECKWITH'S.
That night Mrs. Elliott had every lady that belonged around the
Fort at her house, and she took the "boy scout" along the line and
introduced him to every one of the ladies. This was something new
to me, for it was the first time in my life that I had struck
society, and I would have given all of my previous summer's wages
to have been away from there. I did not know how to conduct
myself, and every time I made a blunder--which seemed to me every
time I made a move--I would attempt to smooth it over, and always
made a bad matter worse.
Next morning at the breakfast table I told the Colonel and his
wife that I was going back into the mountains as fast as I could
get there. I knew I could track Indians, and fight them if
necessary, but I did not know how to entertain ladies, especially
when my best clothes were only Indian-tailored buckskin.
Mrs. Elliott assured me that she would not have had me come there
dressed differently, had it been in her power to prevent it.
"Dressed otherwise than you are," she said, "you would not be the
same 'boy scout' that my husband has told us so much concerning."
Of course this was encouraging, and I concluded that I might not
have been so painfully ridiculous as I had supposed. For, be it
known, I had been scarcely able to sleep the night before for
thinking of what an outlandish figure I had cut that night before
all those high-toned ladies, and of the sport my presence among
them must have created.
However, I felt much better after the pleasant way in which Mrs.
Elliott declared she looked at it, and with renewed self-
complacence proceeded to discuss with the Colonel his plans for
the next summer's campaign.
He informed me that he intended to go out with four companies of
soldiers, and would locate a short distance east of last year's
quarters, at a place where the town of Wadsworth has since been
built. Plenty of good water and an abundance of grass were there,
and with two companies he would make his headquarters there. The
other two companies he would send about one hundred miles further
east, to the vicinity of Steen's Mountain, and it was his wish
that I should take charge of the scouts and operate between the
two camps.
Notwithstanding I had a good home with Col. Elliott and his wife
as long as I wished to remain, it seemed to me that this was the
longest and lonesomest week I had ever experienced. Everything
being so different from my customary way of living, I could not
content myself.
The day before I was to start back home it was arranged that I
should return to Jim Beckwith's ranche and keep the Colonel posted
by letter in regard to the snow in the mountains, and when he
would be able to cross. Then I was to join him at Beckwith's.
The following evening Mrs. Elliott gave a party, which was
attended by all the ladies and gentlemen of the garrison. There
was to be a general good time, perhaps the last party of the
season, as it was approaching the time for preparations for the
next campaign against the Indians.
When all the guests had arrived and the spacious house was a blaze
of light and happiness--fair women smiling and their musical
voices fairly making a delightful hub-bub of light conversation,
and the gentlemen, superb in their gold-trimmed uniforms, or
impressive in full evening dress--the manager of the dance sang
out for all to take partners for some sort of a bowing and
scraping drill that is a mystery to me to this day. I had seen the
fandango in Taos, and elsewhere in the Mexican parts of the
southwest, but this was the first time I had seen Americans dance,
and it was all appallingly new to me.
I sat in a corner like a homely girl at a kissing-bee, and had
nothing to say.
After the crowd had danced about two hours, the floor-manager sang
out, "Ladies' choice!" or something that meant the same thing, and
to my surprise and terror, Mrs. Elliott made a bee-line for me and
asked me to assist her in dancing a quadrille. I had no more idea
of a quadrille than I had of something that was invented
yesterday, and I begged her to excuse me, telling her that I knew
nothing whatever of dancing. She declared, however, that I had
looked on long enough to learn and that I would go through all
right. I hung back like a balky horse at the foot of a slippery
hill, but between Mrs. Elliott and the prompter I was almost
dragged out on the floor.
The reader may be able to conceive a faint idea of my situation. I
was now twenty-three years old, and this was the first time I had
been in civilization since I had left St. Louis, a boy of fifteen.
Here I was, among those swell people, gorgeous in "purple and fine
linen," so to speak; ladies in silks, ruffles and quirlymacues,
gentlemen in broadcloth, gold lace and importance, and I in only
buckskin from head to foot. I would have freely given everything I
possessed to have been out of that, but my excuses failed utterly,
and finally I went into it as I would an Indian fight, put on a
bold front and worked for dear life.
I found it quite different to what I had expected Instead of
making light of me, as I feared they would, each lady in the set
tried to assist me all she could.
When on the floor it seemed to me that every man, woman and child
were looking at me, as indeed they were, or rather at my suit of
buckskin, that, worked full of beads and porcupine quills, was the
most beautiful suit of its kind I have ever seen. But it was so
different from the dress of the others that it made me decidedly
conspicuous. When on the floor and straightened up I felt as if I
were about nine feet high, and that my feet were about twenty
inches long and weighed near fifty pounds each.
The prompter called out, "Balance all!" and I forgot to dance
until all the others were most through balancing, then I turned
loose on the double-shuffle, this being, the only step I knew, and
I hadn't practiced that very much. About the time I would get
started in on this step the prompter would call something else,
and thus being caught between two hurries I would have to run to
catch up with the other dancers. However, with the assistance of
Mrs. Elliott, the other good ladies, the prompter, and anybody
else in reach, I managed to get through, but I had never gone into
an Indian fight with half the dread that I went into that dance,
and never escaped from one with more thankfulness.
The following morning, after bidding Col. Elliott, his wife and
all the other of my new-found friends good-bye, I started on my
return to Beckwith's ranche, perfectly willing to resign my high-
life surroundings to go back to the open and congenial fields of
nature and an indescribable freedom.
I found Beckwith suffering severely from an old arrow wound that
he had received in a fight with the Utes near Fort Hall in 1848.