A Return to Prairie Life -- Abandonment of the regular Route -- The
Start -- A Suicide -- Arrest of a Mulatto for Debt -- Cherokee
'Bankrupt Law' -- Chuly, the Creek Indian -- The Muster and the
Introduction -- An '_Olla Podrida_' -- Adventure of a 'Down-Easter'
-- Arrival of U.S. Dragoons -- Camp Holmes, and the Road -- A Visit
from a Party of Comanches -- Tabba-quena, a noted Chief -- His
extraordinary Geographical Talent -- Indians set out for the
'Capitan Grande,' and we through an Unexplored Region -- Rejoined by
Tabba-quena and his '_suite_' -- Spring Valley -- The Buffalo Fever
-- The Chase -- A Green-horn Scamper -- Prairie Fuel.
An unconquerable propensity to return to prairie life inclined me to
embark in a fresh enterprise. The blockade [Pg100] of the Mexican
ports by the French also offered strong inducements for undertaking
such an expedition in the spring of 1839; for as Chihuahua is supplied
principally through the sea-ports, it was now evident that the place
must be suffering from great scarcity of goods. Being anxious to reach
the market before the ports of the Gulf were reopened, we deemed it
expedient to abandon the regular route from {10} Missouri for one
wholly untried, from the borders of Arkansas, where the pasturage
springs up nearly a month earlier. It is true, that such an attempt to
convey heavily laden wagons through an unexplored region was attended
with considerable risk; but as I was familiar with the general
character of the plains contiguous to the north, I felt little or no
apprehension of serious difficulties, except from what might be
occasioned by regions of sandy soil. I have often been asked since,
why we did not steer directly for Chihuahua, as our trade was chiefly
destined for that place, instead of taking the circuitous route _via_
Santa Fé. I answer, that we dreaded a journey across the southern
prairies on account of the reputed aridity of the country in that
direction, and I had no great desire to venture directly into a
southern port in the present state of uncertainty as to the conditions
of entry.
Suitable arrangements having been made, and a choice stock of about
$25,000 worth of goods shipped to Van Buren[69] on the Arkansas river,
we started on the evening of the 21st of April, but made very little
progress for the first eight days. While we were yet but ten or
fifteen miles from Van Buren, [Pg101] an incident occurred which was
attended with very melancholy results. A young man named Hays, who had
driven a wagon for me for several months through the interior of
Mexico, and thence to the United States in 1838, having heard that
this expedition was projected, {11} was desirous of engaging again in
the same employ. I was equally desirous to secure his services, as he
was well-tried, and had proved himself an excellent fellow on those
perilous journeys. But soon after our outset, and without any apparent
reason, he expressed an inclination to abandon the trip. I earnestly
strove to dissuade him from his purpose, and supposed I had succeeded.
What was my surprise, then, upon my return after a few hours' absence
in advance of the company, to learn that he had secretly absconded! I
was now led to reflect upon some of his eccentricities, and bethought
me of several evident indications of slight mental derangement. We
were, however, but a few miles from the settlements of the whites, and
in the midst of the civilized Cherokees, where there was little or no
danger of his suffering; therefore, there seemed but little occasion
for serious uneasiness on his account. As it was believed he had
shaped his course back to Van Buren, I immediately wrote to our
friends there, to have search made for him. However, nothing could be
found of him till the next day, when his hat and coat were discovered
upon the bank of the Arkansas, near Van Buren, which were the last
traces ever had of the unfortunate Hays! Whether intentionally or
accidentally, he was evidently drowned.
On the 28th of April we crossed the Arkansas river a few miles above
the mouth of the Canadian fork.[70] We had only proceeded {12} a short
distance beyond, when a Cherokee shop-keeper came up to us with an
attachment for debt [Pg102] against a free mulatto whom we had
engaged as teamster. The poor fellow had no alternative but to return
with the importunate creditor, who committed him at once to the care
of 'Judge Lynch' for trial. We ascertained afterwards that he had been
sentenced to 'take the benefit of the bankrupt law' after the manner
of the Cherokees of that neighborhood. This is done by stripping and
tying the victim to a tree; when each creditor, with a good cowhide or
hickory switch in his hand, scores the amount of the bill due upon his
bare back. One stripe for every dollar due is the usual process of
'whitewashing;' and as the application of the lash is accompanied by
all sorts of quaint remarks, the exhibition affords no small merriment
to those present, with the exception, no doubt, of the delinquent
himself. After the ordeal is over, the creditors declare themselves
perfectly satisfied: nor could they, as is said, ever be persuaded
thereafter to receive one red cent of the amount due, even if it were
offered to them. As the poor mulatto was also in our debt, and was
perhaps apprehensive that we might exact payment in the same currency,
he never showed himself again.
On the 2d of May we crossed the North Fork of the Canadian about a
mile from its confluence with the main stream. A little westward of
this there is a small village of {13} Creek Indians, and a shop or two
kept by American traders.[71] An Indian who had quarrelled with his
wife, came out and proposed to join us, and, to our great surprise,
carried his proposal into execution. The next morning his repentant
consort came into our camp, and set up a most dismal weeping and
howling after her truant husband, who, notwithstanding, was neither to
be caught by tears nor [Pg103] softened by entreaties, but persisted
in his determination to see foreign countries. His name was
Echú-eleh-hadjó (or _Crazy-deer-foot_), but, for brevity's sake, we
always called him _Chuly_. He was industrious, and possessed many
clever qualities, though somewhat disposed to commit excesses whenever
he could procure liquor, which fortunately did not occur until our
arrival at Santa Fé. He proved to be a good and willing hand on the
way, but as he spoke no English, our communication with him was
somewhat troublesome. I may as well add here, that, while in Santa Fé,
he took another freak and joined a volunteer corps, chiefly of
Americans, organized under one James Kirker to fight the Navajó and
Apache Indians; the government of Chihuahua having guarantied to them
all the spoils they should take.[72] With these our Creek found a few
of his 'red brethren'--Shawnees and Delawares, who had wandered thus
far from the frontier of Missouri. After this little army was
disbanded, Chuly returned home, as I have been informed, with a small
{14} party who crossed the plains directly from Chihuahua.
We had never considered ourselves as perfectly _en chemin_ till after
crossing the Arkansas river; and as our little party experienced no
further change, I may now be permitted to introduce them collectively
to the reader. It consisted of thirty-four men, including my brother
John Gregg and myself. These men had all been hired by us except
three, two of whom were Eastern-bred boys--a tailor and a
silversmith--good-natured, clever little fellows, who had thought
themselves at the 'jumping-off place' when they reached [Pg104] Van
Buren, but now seemed nothing loth to extend their peregrinations a
thousand miles or so further, in the hope of 'doing' the 'Spaniards,'
as the Mexicans are generally styled in the West, out of a little
surplus of specie. The other was a German peddler, who somewhat
resembled the Dutchman's horse, "put him as you vant, and he ish
alvays tere;" for he did nothing during the whole journey but descant
on the value of a chest of trumperies which he carried, and with which
he calculated, as he expressed it, to "py a plenty of te Shpanish
tollar." The trip across the Prairies cost these men absolutely
nothing, inasmuch as we furnished them with all the necessaries for
the journey, in consideration of the additional strength they brought
to our company.
It is seldom that such a variety of ingredients are found mixed up in
so small a compass. {15} Here were the representatives of seven
distinct nations, each speaking his own native language, which
produced at times a very respectable jumble of discordant sounds.
There was one Frenchman whose volubility of tongue and curious
gesticulations, contrasted very strangely with the frigidity of two
phlegmatic wanderers from Germany; while the calm eccentricity of two
Polish exiles, the stoical look of two sons of the desert (the Creek
already spoken of, and a Chickasaw), and the pantomimic gestures of
sundry loquacious Mexicans, contributed in no small degree to heighten
the effects of the picture. The Americans were mostly backwoodsmen,
who could handle the rifle far better than the whip, but who
nevertheless officiated as wagoners.
We had fourteen road-wagons, half drawn by mules, the others by oxen
(eight of each to the team); besides a carriage and a Jersey wagon.
Then we had two swivels mounted upon one pair of wheels; but one of
them was attached to a movable truckle, so that, upon stopping, it
could be transferred [Pg105] to the other side of the wagons. One of
these was a long brass piece made to order, with a calibre of but an
inch and a quarter, yet of sufficient metal to throw a leaden ball to
the distance of a mile with surprising accuracy. The other was of
iron, and a little larger. Besides these, our party was well supplied
with small arms. The Americans mostly had their rifles and a musket in
addition, which {16} they carried in their wagons, always well charged
with ball and buckshot. Then my brother and myself were each provided
with one of Colt's repeating rifles, and a pair of pistols of the
same, so that we could, if necessary, carry thirty-six ready-loaded
shots apiece; which alone constituted a capacity of defence rarely
matched even on the Prairies.
Previous to our departure we had received a promise from the war
department of an escort of U.S. Dragoons, as far as the borders of the
Mexican territory; but, upon sending an express to Gen. Arbuckle at
Fort Gibson to that effect,[73] we were informed that in consequence
of some fresh troubles among the Cherokees, it was doubtful whether
the force could be spared in time. This was certainly no very
agreeable news, inasmuch as the escort would have been very
serviceable in assisting to search out a track over the unexplored
wilderness we had to pass. It was too late, however, to recede; and so
we resolved at all hazards to pursue our journey. [Pg106]
We had advanced beyond the furthest settlements of the Creeks
and Seminoles, and pitched our camp on a bright balmy evening, in the
border of a delightful prairie, when some of the young men, attracted
by the prospect of game, shouldered their rifles and wended their
steps through the dense forest which lay contiguous to our encampment.
Among those that went forth, there was one of the 'down-easters'
already mentioned, who was much more familiar with the interior of
{17} a city than of a wilderness forest. As the shades of evening were
beginning to descend, and all the hunters had returned except him,
several muskets and even our little field-pieces were fired, but
without effect. The night passed away, and the morning dawned upon the
encampment, and still he was absent. The firing was then renewed; but
soon after he was seen approaching, very sullen and dejected. He came
with a tale of perilous adventures and 'hair-breadth 'scapes' upon his
lips, which somewhat abated the storm of ridicule by which he was at
first assailed. It seemed that he had heard our firing on the previous
evening, but believed it to proceed from a contrary direction--a very
common mistake with persons who have become bewildered and lost. Thus
deceived and stimulated by the fear of Indians (from a party of whom
he supposed the firing to proceed), he continued his pathless
wanderings till dark, when, to render his situation still more
critical, he was attacked by a 'painter'--_anglicè_, panther--which he
actually succeeded in beating off with the breech of his gun, and then
betook himself to the topmost extremity of a tree, where, in order to
avoid a similar intrusion, he passed the remainder of the night. From
a peculiar odor with which the shattered gun was still redolent,
however, it was strongly suspected that the 'terrific painter' was not
many degrees removed, in affinity, from a----polecat.
We had just reached the extreme edge of {18} the far [Pg107] famed
'Cross Timbers,'[74] when we were gratified by the arrival of forty
dragoons, under the command of Lieut. Bowman, who had orders to
accompany us to the supposed boundary of the United States.[75] On the
same evening we had the pleasure of encamping together at a place
known as Camp Holmes, a wild romantic spot in latitude 35° 5′, and but
a mile north of the Canadian river. Just at hand there was a beautiful
spring, where, in 1835, Colonel Mason with a force of U. S. troops,
had a 'big talk' and still bigger 'smoke' with a party of Comanche and
Witchita Indians.[76] Upon the same site Col. Chouteau had also caused
to be erected not long after, a little stockade fort, where a
considerable trade was subsequently carried on with the Comanches and
other tribes of the southwestern prairies. The place had now been
abandoned, however, since the preceding winter.
From the Arkansas river to Chouteau's Fort, our route presented an
unbroken succession of grassy plains and fertile glades, intersected
here and there with woody belts and numerous rivulets, most of which,
however, are generally dry except during the rainy season. As far as
Camp Holmes, [Pg108] we had a passable wagon road, which was opened
upon the occasion of the Indian treaty before alluded to, and was
afterwards kept open by the Indian traders. Yet, notwithstanding the
road, this stretch gave us more trouble--presented more rugged passes,
miry ravines and steep {19} ascents--than all the rest of our journey
put together.
We had not been long at the Fort, before we received a visit from a
party of Comanches, who having heard of our approach came to greet us
a welcome, on the supposition that it was their friend Chouteau
returning to the fort with fresh supplies of merchandise. Great was
their grief when we informed them that their favorite trader had died
at Fort Gibson, the previous winter.[77] On visiting their wigwams and
inquiring for their _capitan_,[78] we were introduced to a corpulent,
squint-eyed old fellow, who certainly had nothing in his personal
appearance indicative of rank or dignity. This was Tábba-quena (or the
Big Eagle), a name familiar to all the Comanche traders. As we had
frequently heard that he spoke Spanish fluently, we at once prepared
ourselves for a social chit-chat; but, on accosting him in that
tongue, and inquiring whether he could talk Spanish, he merely replied
'_Poquito_,' putting at the same time his forefinger to his ear, to
signify that he merely understood a little--which proved true to a
degree, for our communication was chiefly [Pg109] by signs. We were
now about to launch upon an unknown region--our route lay henceforth
across that unexplored wilderness, of which I have so frequently
spoken, without either pilot or trail to guide us for nearly 500
miles. We had to depend entirely upon {20} our knowledge of the
geographical position of the country for which we were steering, and
the indications of a compass and sextant. This was emphatically a
pioneer trip; such a one also as had, perhaps, never before been
undertaken--to convey heavily laden wagons through a country almost
wholly untrod by civilized man, and of which _we_, at least, knew
nothing. We were therefore extremely anxious to acquire any
information our visitors might be able to give us; but Tábba-quena
being by no means experienced in wagon tactics, could only make us
understand, by gestures, mixed with a little wretched Spanish, that
the route up the Canadian presented no obstacles according to _his_
mode of travelling. He appeared, however, very well acquainted with
the whole Mexican frontier, from Santa Fé to Chihuahua, and even to
the Gulf, as well as with all the Prairies. During the consultation he
seemed occasionally to ask the opinions of other chiefs who had
huddled around him. Finally, we handed him a sheet of paper and a
pencil, signifying at the same time a desire that he would draw us a
map of the Prairies. This he very promptly executed; and although the
draft was somewhat rough, it bore, much to our astonishment, quite a
map-like appearance, with a far more accurate delineation of all the
principal rivers of the plains--the road from Missouri to Santa Fé,
and the different Mexican settlements, than is to be found in many of
the engraved maps of those regions.
{21}Tabba-quena's party consisted of about sixty persons, including
several squaws and papooses, with a few Kiawa chiefs and warriors,
who, although of a tribe so entirely distinct, are frequently found
domiciled among the Comanches. As we were about to break up the camp
they all started for [Pg110] Fort Gibson, for the purpose, as they
informed us, of paying a visit to the 'Capitan Grande'--a Spanish
phrase used by many prairie tribes, and applied, in their confused
notions of rank and power, not only to the President of the United
States himself, but to the seat of the federal government. These they
are again apt to confound with Fort Gibson and the commanding officer
of that station.
On the 18th of May, we set out from Chouteau's fort. From this forward
our wagons were marched in two lines and regularly 'formed' at every
camp, so as to constitute a fortification and a _corral_ for the
stock. This is different from the 'forming' of the large caravans. The
two front wagons are driven up, side by side, with their 'tails' a
little inclined outward. About half of the rest are drawn up in the
same manner, but each stopped with the fore-wheel a little back of the
hind-wheel of the next ahead. The remainder are similarly brought up,
but inclined inward behind, so as nearly to close again at the rear of
the pen; leaving a gap through which to introduce the stock. Thus the
_corral_ remains of an ovate form. After the drivers become expert the
whole is performed in a very short time.
{22}On the following day we were again joined by old Tabba-quena, and
another Comanche chief, with five or six warriors, and as many squaws,
including Tab's wife and infant son. As we were jogging along in the
afternoon, I held quite a long conversation in our semi-mute language
with the squinting old chief. He gave me to understand, as well as he
could, that his comrades[79] had proceeded on their journey to see the
Capitan Grande, but that he had concluded to return home for better
horses. He boasted in no measured terms of his friendship for the
Americans, and [Pg111] promised to exert his influence to prevent
turbulent and unruly spirits of his nation from molesting us. But he
could not disguise his fears in regard to the Pawnees and Osages, who,
he said, would be sure to run off with our stock while we were asleep
at night. When I informed him that we kept a strict night-watch, he
said, "_Está bueno_" (that's good), and allowed that our chances for
safety were not so bad after all.
These friendly Indians encamped with us that night, and on the
following morning the old chief informed us that some of his party had
a few "mulas para _swap_" (mules to trade; for having learned the word
_swap_ of some American traders, he very ingeniously tacked it at the
tail of his little stock of Spanish). A barter of five mules was
immediately concluded {23} upon, much to our advantage, as our teams
were rather in a weak condition. Old Tab and his party then left us to
join his band, which, he said, was located on the Faux Ouachittâ
river, and we never saw aught of them more.[80]
After leaving the Fort we generally kept on the ridge between the
Canadian and the North Fork, crossing sometimes the tributary brooks
of the one and sometimes those of the others. Having travelled in this
manner for about eighty miles, we entered one of the most charming
prairie vales that I have ever beheld, and which in the plenitude of
our enthusiasm, we named 'Spring Valley,' on account of the numerous
spring-fed rills and gurgling rivulets that greeted the sight in every
direction;[81] in whose limpid pools swarms of trout and perch were
carelessly playing. Much of the country, indeed, over which we had
passed was somewhat of a similar character--yet nowhere quite so
beautiful. I must premise, however, that westward of this, it [Pg112]
is only the valleys immediately bordering the streams that are at all
fit for cultivation: the high plains are too dry and sandy. But here
the soil was dark and mellow, and the rich vegetation with which it
was clothed plainly indicated its fertility. 'Spring Valley' gently
inclines towards the North Fork, which was at the distance of about
five miles from our present route. It was somewhere along the border
of this enchanting vale that a little picket fort was erected in {24}
1822, by an unfortunate trader named McKnight, who was afterwards
betrayed and murdered by the faithless Comanches.[82] The landscape is
beautifully variegated with stripes and fringes of timber: while the
little herds of buffalo that were scattered about in fantastic groups
imparted a degree of life and picturesqueness to the scene, which it
was truly delightful to contemplate.
It was three days previous that we had first met with these 'prairie
cattle.' I have often heard backwoodsmen speak of the 'buck ague,' but
commend me to the 'buffalo fever' of the Prairies for novelty and
amusement. Very few of our party had ever seen a buffalo before in its
wild state; therefore at the first sight of these noble animals the
excitement surpassed anything I had ever witnessed before. Some of our
dragoons, in their eagerness for sport, had managed to frighten away a
small herd that were quietly feeding at some distance, before our
'still hunters,' who had crawled towards them, had been able to get
within rifle-shot of them. No sooner were the movements of our mounted
men perceived, than the whole extent of country, as far as the eye
could reach, became perfectly animate with living objects, fleeing and
scampering in every direction. From the surrounding valleys sprang up
numerous herds of these animals which had hitherto been unobserved,
many of which, in their indiscriminate flight, passed so near the
wagons, that the [Pg113] drivers, carried away by the contagious
excitement of {25} the moment, would leave the teams and keep up a
running fire after them. I had the good fortune to witness the
exploits of one of our Northern greenhorns, who, mounted upon a
sluggish mule, and without any kind of weapon, amused himself by
chasing every buffalo that came scudding along, as if he expected to
capture him by laying hold of his tail. Plying spur and whip, he would
gallop after one division till he was left far behind: and then turn
to another and another, with the same earnestness of purpose, until
they had all passed out of sight. He finally came back disheartened
and sullen, with his head hanging down like one conscious of having
done something supremely ridiculous; but still cursing his lazy mule,
which, he said, might have caught the buffalo, if it had had a mind
to.
The next day the buffalo being still more numerous, the chase was
renewed with greater zest. In the midst of the general hurly-burly
which ensued, three persons on foot were perceived afar off, chasing
one herd of buffalo and then another, until they completely
disappeared. These were two of our cooks, the one armed with a pistol,
the other with a musket, accompanied by Chuly (the Creek), who was
happily provided with a rifle. We travelled several miles without
hearing or seeing anything of them. At last, when we had almost given
them up for lost, Frank, the French cook, came trudging in, and his
rueful countenance was no bad index of the {26} doleful tale he had to
relate. Although he had been chasing and shooting all day, he had, as
he expressed it, "no killet one," till eventually he happened to
stumble upon a wounded calf, which he boldly attacked; but as ill luck
would have it, the youngster took it into his head to give him battle.
"Foutre de varment! he butt me down," exclaimed the exasperated
Frenchman,--"Sacré! me plentee scart; but me kill him for all." Chuly
and the [Pg114] other cook came in soon after, in equally dejected
spirits; for, in addition to his ill luck in hunting, the latter had
been lost. The Indian had perhaps killed buffalo with his rifle, but
he was in no humor to be communicative in his language of signs; so
nothing was ever known of his adventures. One thing seemed pretty
certain, that they were all cured of the 'buffalo fever.'
On the night after the first buffalo scamper, we encamped upon a
woodless ravine, and were obliged to resort to 'buffalo chips' (dry
ordure) for fuel. It is amusing to witness the bustle which generally
takes place in collecting this offal. In dry weather it is an
excellent substitute for wood, than which it even makes a hotter fire;
but when moistened by rain, the smouldering pile will smoke for hours
before it condescends to burn, if it does at all. The buffalo meat
which the hunter roasts or broils upon this fire, he accounts more
savory than the steaks dressed by the most delicate cooks in civilized
life.
FOOTNOTES:
[68] Chapter i of volume ii of the original edition.--ED.
[69] It is said that Major Long first chose the site of Van Buren for
the fort afterwards erected at Bellepoint, five miles higher up the
river, and known as Fort Smith--see our volume xiii, p. 197, note 166.
The site was not occupied until after the removal of the Cherokee in
1828; the next year it was made a post-office, and in 1838 the seat
for Crawford County, Arkansas. For two decades Van Buren was a
prosperous frontier town, the home of a large Indian trade. Since the
War of Secession it has not regained its prestige.--ED.
[70] The caravan crossed the Arkansas, between the embouchment of the
Illinois and Canadian rivers, in what is now the Cherokee Nation,
Indian Territory.--ED.
[71] The North Fork of the Canadian unites with the main stream on the
boundary between the Creek and Cherokee nations. The Creek town of
Eufaula is near the site mentioned by Gregg.--ED.
[72] James Kirker, known to the Mexicans as Santiago Querque, was an
American who led an adventurous life upon the plains. Like several
others he embarked in Apache warfare for the government of Chihuahua;
and was accused, probably unjustly, of cheating in the delivery of
scalps. He retired in bad humor to his hacienda in Sonora; later
removing to California, where he died about 1853. See Kendall, _Texan
Santa Fé Expedition_, ii, pp. 57-59.--ED.
[73] Matthew Arbuckle was the son of a Virginia pioneer of the same
name, who participated in the Battle of Point Pleasant in 1774. The
son was born in 1776, and entered the regular army at the age of
twenty-three, passing through all of the grades until in 1830 he was,
for meritorious services, breveted brigadier-general. He died at Fort
Smith June 11, 1851.
Fort Gibson was erected in 1824 on the left bank of Neosho River, near
its mouth. The western boundary of Arkansas was in 1825 removed forty
miles to the west, so that this military post fell within its border.
Later (1830), the boundary was again replaced at the original limits,
whereupon Fort Gibson fell into Cherokee territory. Several unavailing
efforts were made (1834-38) to have the garrison removed to Fort
Smith; and after numerous protests by the Cherokee against its
maintenance within their borders, Fort Gibson was finally abandoned in
1857.--ED.
[74] For the description of the belt of woodland known as Cross
Timbers, see _post_, p. 253.--ED.
[75] Lieutenant James Monroe Bowman entered the West Point military
academy from Pennsylvania, was made lieutenant in the mounted rangers
in 1832, and transferred to the dragoons in 1833. For his death (July
21, 1839), see _post_.--ED.
[76] Camp Holmes was at the site later occupied by Fort Holmes, in the
Creek Nation, near its western boundary. In 1849 there was no
habitation at this place; see _Senate Doc._, 31 Cong., 1 sess., 12.
Richard Barnes Mason was born in Fairfax County, Virginia, in 1797; at
the age of twenty he entered the army as lieutenant, two years later
(1819) became captain, and in 1833 major of the 1st dragoons. He was
lieutenant-colonel in 1836, colonel in 1846, and brigadier-general two
years later, dying at St. Louis in 1850. He served in the Black Hawk
War, and was first military and civil governor of California.
For the Comanche, see our volume xvi, p. 233, note 109. For the
Wichita, also called Pawnee Picts, _ibid._, p. 95, note 55.
The treaty here alluded to was signed at Camp Holmes, August 24, 1835.
If Colonel Mason was present it was in a subordinate capacity, as
General Arbuckle and Montford Stokes were the federal commissioners.
The treaty was one of peace and friendship between the Comanche,
Wichita, and associated bands on the one part, and the tribes recently
removed to the vicinity--Cherokee, Creek, Choctaw, etc.--on the other,
the government commissioners acting as mediators.--ED.
[77] Auguste Pierre Chouteau, eldest son of the senior Pierre (for
whom see our volume xvi, p. 275, note 127) and brother of Pierre
(cadet), so well known in connection with the Missouri Fur Company,
was born at St. Louis in 1786. After being educated at West Point, he
entered the army, where he was ensign of the 1st infantry. In 1809, he
resigned, married his cousin Sophie Labadie, and embarked in the fur
trade, in which he had charge of the Arkansas branch of the business
until his death at Fort Gibson.--ED.
[78] Most of the prairie Indians seem to have learned this Spanish
word, by which, when talking with the whites, all their chiefs are
designated.--GREGG.
[79] Some of these (principally Kiawas, as I afterwards learned),
reached Fort Gibson, and received a handsome reward of government
presents for their visit.--GREGG.
[80] For this stream, see our volume xvi, p. 138, note 66.--ED.
[81] In Oklahoma, probably not far from the present town of that
name.--ED.
[82] See our volume xix, p. 176, note 13 (Gregg).--ED.