The tribe known as the Osages, or Wa-saw-sees, as they denominate
themselves, wander perennially round the head waters of the Arkansas
and Neosho, or Grand Rivers, hunting, fishing, and trading with the
Americans at Fort Gibson, the outermost south-western fort on the
frontier of the United States. Tall, even gigantic in stature, they
have many qualities which excite the admiration and applause of their
white brethren. Like most Indians, they are brave and warlike; but
their peculiarity consists in rejecting the customs of the whites,
particularly the use of whisky. Wearing their wild and primitive
costume, they stalk amid the hunters, squatters, trappers, and
trampers that frequent the neighbourhood of Fort Gibson, overtopping
them in general by a head, but still more surpassing them in the
essential virtue of sobriety and temperance--a failure in the
exercise of which would doubtless soon remove them from the
pre-eminence they now enjoy.
In a secluded valley, through which a stream that fell into the
Neosho wound its way, lay some time back one of the villages of this
nomadic tribe. The wigwams were about a hundred in number, scattered
over the narrow plain, near the mouth of the valley, and surrounded
by a rude picket. Built of bark and reeds, they were evidently
constructed simply for the necessities of the summer season, during
which the warriors chased the deer and buffalo for immediate
consumption, and to lay up in store for winter. Overlooking the
village was a grassy mound, that narrowed the mouth of the valley,
and caused the rippling stream that flowed at its feet to turn
abruptly from its course. From the summit of this hillock, the lodges
wore the appearance of a huge congregation of bee-hives, while the
eye rested pleasantly on many adjuncts to the scene, which rendered
it agreeable and picturesque. The village was alive with a busy
throng of women, few if any men being discovered; while children were
seen at every point, adding still greater animation to the picture.
The first were all actively employed. Some stood at the entrance of
their wigwams, busily engaged in cooking; others were drying and
packing the results of the hunting of the warriors; while others,
again, were laboriously occupied in cleaning fresh buffalo-skins,
preparatory to their being cured for use as robes. Not a married
woman was idle. Not so, however, the maidens. They were yet enjoying
the sweets of a liberty which, however, despite the hardships
incident to the married state in the wilds, they were no less anxious
to sacrifice than are many bright-eyed beauties nearer home. The
Osage girls--and many of them were exceedingly pretty--were
congregated near the edge of the stream, in which dozens of little
urchins were bathing. Dancing was usually their chief amusement; but
on the present occasion they were spectators of a scene which
possessed more immediate interest.
Somewhat apart from the maidens was a group, on which the Osage girls
gazed curiously and enviously. Three Indian youths, all under twenty,
nowise related by blood, but connected only by the bonds of
friendship, stood on a rising bank in deep abstraction.
Nah-com-e-shee, Koha-tunha, and Mun-ne-pushee--for such were the
names of the young men--had at an early age contracted for one
another one of those peculiar affections which inexplicably arise
sometimes between persons of the same sex, and which often are more
sincere and durable even than love. So wedded were they to this
feeling, as to have publicly declared their intention of never
marrying, in order that their amity might suffer no division. Their
hearts, they said, were so occupied by friendship, that love could
not find the remotest corner to creep into. How many smiling faces
were clouded by this strange announcement, we cannot say; but sure we
are, if any had before suffered them to occupy their thoughts, this
resolution increased the number of their admirers manifold. Indian
girls have ways and means of setting their caps at young men, as the
phrase is, as well as more civilised damsels, and the Osage maidens
were not idle on this occasion. Besides, that many really loved the
youths, the honour of the sex was concerned. It was not to be borne
that friendship should triumph over love, and it may therefore be
readily conceived what an artillery of bright eyes was reproachfully
opened upon the three friends. They, however, remained insensible to
all the attractions of female society; they joined not in the dance,
nor told nor listened to the tale of love or war by the evening fire;
but rode together, hunted together, trapped together, and earned the
highest renown as indefatigable and bold huntsmen.
The ambition of the three friends, however, reached to higher flights
than emulating the first hunters of their tribe. They wished to equal
in renown the greatest warriors of the Osage nation; and it was a
knowledge of the fact, that they were about to start on a marauding
expedition, which created so great a sensation in the throng of
maidens. The three youths had been deeply engaged in discussing their
plans, and were, at the moment we speak of, uttering a silent prayer
to the great Manitou for success in their undertaking. Tall, erect,
and admirably proportioned, they presented an excellent group for a
statuary. While their shaven heads were adorned with the helmet crest
and eagle plume, they bore round their necks ornaments of the gayest
kind. A magnificent cloak of buffalo-skin adorned their shoulders,
while a spear, shield, tomahawk, bow and quiver, formed their arms.
Leggings, moccasins, with wampum garters tied below the knee,
completed, with the waist-cloth, their attire. Three fine horses were
tied to an adjoining tree, showing that they were in every way ready
for the expedition. It was still morning, and many miles of ground
were to be crossed before night, the youths having signified their
intention of making an excursion into the Pawnee Pict territory.
As soon as their silent invocation was ended, the Osage braves
stalked gravely towards their richly-caparisoned steeds, and mounting
them, rode slowly from the camp. For some miles, their course was
along a wide-spread rolling prairie; but soon the presence of trees
gave sign of their approaching a river. It was not, however, until
nightfall that they gained the banks of the Arkansas. Hitherto, their
progress had been open and bold, being within the hunting-grounds of
their own people; but now the frontier line of the Pawnee Picts lay
before them, in the shape of the dark rolling waters of the Arkansas,
and it was time to use caution and artifice. It was determined, as
their horses were somewhat fatigued, and as they depended on them for
escape in case of need, that they should seek repose upon the
friendly side of the river, and cross the Arkansas in the morning.
Their horses were accordingly tethered, a diminutive fire lighted in
a deep dell or hole, and every other needful preparation made to pass
the night. A frugal repast was consumed, and then each warrior leaned
against a tree, and, smoking his pipe, gravely conversed upon the
best mode of acquiring distinction and renown. Many opinions were
given: but nothing less than surprising a whole Pawnee village,
slaughtering the inhabitants, and returning to their homes loaded
with scalps, appeared to the heated imaginations of the youths a
sufficiently glorious enterprise to satisfy their ambition. At length
the fatigues of the day overpowered them, and the three friends fell
into a deep sleep.
The sun had just tipped with gold the summits of the trees, the
wild-cock was crowing in the woods, the thousand choristers of the
forest were pealing in rich harmony, when the Osage warriors awoke.
They smiled grimly on one another, and then started, each man
mechanically placing his hand upon the back and crown of his head.
Their scalp locks, helmet crests, and eagles' plumes had all
disappeared. Petrified with astonishment, they started to their feet.
Who could have done so daring a deed? Not an enemy surely, or they
would have taken the lives thus placed within their power. The
friends wasted their thoughts in vain conjecture, and then, burning
with indignation, turned to seek their horses. The long sweeping
tails of these animals had also been cut off. That it was the Pawnee
Picts, they no longer doubted; and fearful was the ire of the Osages
at the contempt with which they had been treated. The trail of their
night visitors was plainly marked, and led towards a copse, where
they had evidently left their horses. It then turned to the
river-bank, and was lost. Nah-com-e-shee, however, glancing his eye
over the opposite plain, gave a cry of delight, and pointed out to
his companions the flashing of spears in the morning sun.
To plunge into the river, to reach the other shore, and to ride madly
over the plain in chase of their audacious foes, was the work of an
instant. In vain, however, they strained their eyes to catch another
glimpse of the retreating party, until again the flashing of the
spear-heads was seen near at hand, and plunging over the next
hillock, the friends found themselves in presence of--three lances
stuck in the ground. If the Indians boiled with passion before, their
rage now knew no bounds: they vowed, with little consideration for
the possibility or probability of the matter, to exterminate every
Pawnee Pict from the face of the earth. This resolution being
unanimous, a halt was made, and a council of war held. Some ten
minutes were passed in discussion, and then away went the Osages on
the trail of their foes, just as they caught sight, in the rear, of a
perfect cloud of horsemen pouring over the plain in the distance. It
was a war-party of the Pawnee Picts, about twenty of whom came riding
fast in pursuit of the three friends. A thickly-wooded ravine lay
about a mile distant. Towards this the Osages hastened for refuge,
their souls bounding with delight at the prospect of a contest which
now opened before them.
The ravine was soon reached. It was narrow, and on both sides thickly
wooded, while several clumps of timber lay near its mouth. The Osages
saw that the only hope of coping with a superior force was by
defending the entrance; and, accordingly, dismounting from their
steeds, turned them loose, and strung their bows. On came the Pawnee
Picts, riding furiously over the prairie. The intentions of the
Osages were too plain to be mistaken, and none of their pursuers
ventured to brave the discharge of arrows which was ready for their
reception; but, imitating the example set them, cast loose their
horses, and sought the shelter of a copse. The unequal struggle now
commenced, and loud war-whoops rung through the valley. Arrows flew
constantly from foe to foe. The Pawnees, having a great superiority
in numbers, succeeded oftenest in wounding their adversaries. Still
they gained not upon them; the Osages, though soon severely hurt,
preserving the same undaunted front, and returning their missiles
with unabated vigour.
At length, however, their arrows were spent, and clutching their
tomahawks, the friends, casting a glance of stern but undying
affection on each other, prepared to die like men. On came the
Pawnees, yelling the fearful war-whoop, and waving their hatchets on
high. Already were a dozen of them within a few yards of the devoted
trio, when their yell was echoed from the forest, and three of their
foremost warriors lay low, slain by a flight of arrows from the top
of the ravine. Back turned the Pawnees to their shelter, while the
Osages, taking advantage of the confusion, snatched the usual trophy
of victory from their fallen foes, and then, catching their steeds,
mounted and fled. Guided by the trampling of horses, they rushed in
pursuit of those to whose timely assistance they owed their lives. In
vain, however, did they urge their steeds; their unknown assistants
were not to be overtaken. For about an hour the three friends
continued their ride, and then halted to bind up their wounds, and
conceal themselves for the rest of the day.
The spot selected was admirably adapted for the purpose, being an
open glade in the forest, surrounded on all sides by trees. Here they
turned their horses loose once more, and lay down upon the grass,
weary and faint. To find herbs, and with them to form a kind of
poultice, fastened on with bark by means of ligatures of grass, was
their first duty, and then the inner man was considered. None of them
had tasted food since the previous night, and there was none in their
possession. Nah-com-e-shee, being the warrior who was least severely
wounded, and having picked up several Pawnee arrows, started into the
forest in search of game. With the keen perception of an Indian, he
selected that side which appeared a little inclined to descend, as it
naturally excited his suspicion that a stream lay in that direction.
This was the more probable, that a little purling spring that bubbled
up in the green open glade tended thither. Nor was the warrior's
sagacity at fault, for a smart walk brought him to the banks of a
narrow and slowly-running river. Within, sight of this Nah-com-e-shee
concealed himself, and prepared to wait even for hours the passage of
a deer or elk. His patience was not, however, put to so severe a
test, as, ere long, a rustling in the bushes opposite attracted his
attention. Raising his eyes from their fixed position, he saw the
antlers of a buck rearing themselves over a thicket of brush, and
next moment a noble deer bounded to the bank to drink. An arrow
pierced its heart from the Indian's unerring bow ere its lips had
touched the water, and Nah-com-e-shee rushed eagerly towards the
spot. Three mounted warriors were before him, and while he sought
cover, captured and bore away the prize.
The Osage knew that it was useless to remain on the watch any longer,
and, pursuit being madness, turned back and sought his companions, who
were more indignant than ever at this new outrage. Repose was, however,
absolutely necessary, and was now sought, all trusting to the keenness
of their senses to awake ere they could be surprised. It was dark night
ere they awoke, and then the three friends groaned with rage that was
absolutely frightful. Each felt himself ornamented by a squaw's
petticoat, thrown loosely over him. Burning with passion, they grasped
one another's hands, and vowed terrible vengeance.
At this instant a dim light was seen through the trees, blazing up at
a considerable distance in the forest. It was the fire of a camp, and
the hearts of the Osage warriors were at last glad. They had been so
often outwitted, that the utmost caution was used. Each divested
himself of every unnecessary article of clothing, while their
tomahawks were the only arms they preserved. Clutching these, they
crept stealthily, and with a serpent's tread, into the forest. As they
advanced, the glare of the fire grew brighter; and at length, when
within a couple of hundred yards, they could plainly hear the green
wood crackling in the full stillness of evening. A faint odour of
broiled venison came pleasingly to their nostrils, and then three
figures were plainly discerned round the fire.
Between the spot occupied by the Osages and the hostile camp lay a
rough piece of ground, full of holes and natural ditches. Across this
the three friends began to crawl, holding their breath, and clutching
their deadly weapons, while their hearts beat with anxiety lest their
victims should escape. Half the distance was passed over, and still
more strongly was the cooking made evident to the hungry senses of the
creeping Osages. Still the unconscious warriors moved not, but kept
their backs turned to the approaching foe. They were evidently eating,
and holding converse at intervals. At length, as the friends came still
nearer, they appeared to finish their meal, and sunk gradually on the
leafy ground to rest. The Osages breathed more freely, and advanced
with less caution, until at length, when within half-a-dozen yards,
they rose, gave the terrific war-whoop, and leaped madly upon the camp.
It was vacant--their victims had escaped. The friends, amazed, were
about to fly from their dangerous proximity to the light, when three
distinct laughs were heard.
The Osages stood immovable, gazing at one another with a grim,
half-angry, half-comic expression, and ere they could speak, three
maidens disguised as warriors stood meekly one before each brave, a
horse's tail in one hand, and the other trophies in the other. The
friends tried their utmost to look angry; but the countenances of the
girls were so meek, and yet so malicious, that the gravity of the
braves was overcome, and they laughed heartily at the conclusion of
their expected deadly struggle.
The girls then explained that, for reasons of their own, disapproving
of the celibacy of the three friends, they had resolved to excite their
admiration and interest, that they had followed them immediately after
their departure, had crept on them in the night, and divested them of
their crests, &c., and played them every other trick which has been
recorded in this legend. The warriors listened, and when they narrated
how they had saved their lives in the ravine, seemed each struck with
the same sudden conviction; namely, that the lives thus preserved
belonged to the preservers, and at once made public their opinion. The
damsels laughed gaily, and promised to entertain the notion, but
recalled their lovers to a remembrance of their hungry state. Merrily
and blithely supped the three maidens and the three friends that night
beneath the greenwood tree; and when in after-years they met at
eventide, all happy husbands and wives, with dusky boys and girls
crowding round them, that it was the brightest moment of their
existence, was the oft-repeated saying of the THREE FRIENDS.