AN OLD-FASHIONED JOURNEY
“Put on your big sun hat and dust wrap,” Nathan had said, “we are to
drive through a wild region much of the way and shall have plenty of
dust and sun, besides you need have little fear of meeting acquaintances
on our long path over the prairie.”
And Lissa had packed in big trunks, that were to be sent ahead of them
by express, all the pretty dresses and hats which were so becoming to
her, and reserved only the most serviceable costume for that season of
the year. This she covered with an ample linen wrap, and tied a leghorn
flat over her shining curls.
They were to go in a wagon, and, contrary to the usual emigrant fashion,
an uncovered one. Nathan wanted a light spring-wagon to use upon his
farm, and Lissa insisted that she could see the country and enjoy the
ride after the fleet little mustangs better in that particular wagon
than in any other possible conveyance.
They started upon a beautiful September morning, one of those days which
seem to blend the perfection of summer loveliness with the delightful,
hazy charm of early autumn.
“All you need now is a brass band and a banner,” Donald said, as Nathan
drove up to the door with the scrubby little ponies attached to the
brightly painted wagon, “and you could take a bridal tour in first-class
style.
“And, Lissa, if you should meet any Indians by the way be sure you shake
hands with them, and say ‘How,’ which is the Indian for ‘How d’you do.’
It means, you know, that you are ready for decapitation if it so pleases
them and only question their _manner_ of procedure. They might be
offended if you omitted this little ceremony, and become unpleasant;
and, Lissa, if any of them shall ask you for a lock of your hair don’t
hesitate to cut off a curl and give it to them with the sweetest smile
you can muster, for they might take a notion to take the whole of them
just to hang in their belts for ornaments, and—But I don’t mean to
frighten you, ’pon my soul I don’t!” he continued, noting the suspicion
of tears in Lissa’s bright eyes and the tremor in her voice as she
turned to bid good-by to Squire Bartram and the irrepressible,
fun-loving brother whom she had taken into her affection.
“The wild home to which you are going will have one star of the first
magnitude to brighten it before many days, but I reckon it will be
rather dark in this quarter of the heavens to-night,” he said, looking
graver than she had ever before seen him.
“O Don, how can that be, when _you_ are to remain?” Lissa replied,
smiling through her tears.
“I am a planet and only shine by reflected light,” he replied; “not that
I shall cast any reflection upon what has gone before,” he added in his
old manner. “But don’t be surprised if you should see a stray comet out
on the prairies before many moons-there’s no telling when one may be
liable to strike you.”
“The sooner the better,” she responded brightly, and with a few more
words of final adieu they drove away.
They had several miles of drive to the ferry which should transport them
across the Missouri River, or the “Big Muddy” as the Indians named its
roily waters.
“It well deserves its name,” observed Lissa.
“Yes,” responded Nathan, “and this river keeps its color and current
separate unto itself for many miles after emptying into the clear
Mississippi.”
“I should say the Mississippi refused to be polluted by it and tried to
quarantine against it,” Lissa returned.
They noted the pretty villages along the shore, which had looked so near
to them from the bluffs, before they crossed to the Nebraska side and
found themselves in the flourishing city of Omaha. There was little to
distinguish it from other cities in the East, except the regularity of
its streets and the newer style of architecture which uniformly met
their gaze. An hour later they were out upon the broad, balsam-scented
prairie.
The wind-swept grasses nodded to them invitingly and the unrebuked sun
shone down smilingly upon the unmarred handiwork of Nature.
Lissa was enraptured. This was the unfettered life of which she had
dreamed. Her buoyant spirit was exhilarated by the fresh, flower-scented
air and the glory of the landscape.
“O Nathan, I shall never want to go East again!” she cried as they
approached the Platte River and viewed the magnificent stretch of land
for several miles up the valley, so level, so perfect, with the shining
thread of the river like a prescient nerve carrying health and vigor to
the adjacent territory. And far at the north and south the soft gray
hills arose, joining the clear blue of the sky above as if earth,
enamoured with the beauty of heaven, had arisen to meet the sky’s
embrace.
They had been riding many hours, when Nathan said: “Look yonder, Lissa,
in our way. If I am not greatly mistaken, your desire to see a wild
Indian is about to be gratified.”
Lissa beamed with excitement. A wild Indian! Should she be afraid?
“How can you tell at such a distance? I can see nothing but a dark
object, and cannot determine if it be man or beast,” she said.
“You have not trained your eye to long distances. I can see that it is a
pony and that it has a rider, and the swift, steady gallop, together
with the position of the rider, suggests an Indian; besides, we are in a
locality where we are more likely to meet the ‘noble redman’ coming
alone upon the prairie than his white brother.”
Lissa watched the approach of the stranger with a shade of uneasiness.
The thought of meeting a savage aboriginal, who to her mind was
connected with all sorts of deeds of fiendish cruelty, caused a
fluttering of the heart which Nathan’s assurances could not wholly
allay.
“How,” was Nathan’s salutation to the man as he drew near; and “how” was
the guttural response of the Indian as he came to an abrupt halt by the
side of the wagon, sitting in statuesque uprightness upon his pony. Not
a muscle of his face moved. His countenance was as stolid and blank as
if cut in stone, and during the time Nathan conversed with him in the
Pawnee dialect he neither smiled nor expressed any feeling or thought in
his face.
Lissa studied this native specimen with much interest while Nathan
detained him. He was clad in gala costume and was going down to attend
an Indian festival at Omaha, he said. His head was bound with a woolen
scarf of red and black, knotted behind with falling ends. Beneath this
his long, straight, black hair fell to his shoulders. Several long
feathers were stuck in this zone, and a plaited lock of hair hung over
it from the crown of his head. His brown face was smeared with little
lines of red paint, seemingly ingrained in his skin, and his ears had
long slits in them, which were literally filled with ear-rings of
different kinds, sticking out in bunchy confusion. A large red blanket
covered his shoulders and one arm. The other was free and cinctured with
numerous bracelets, while his hand grasped the rope which bound the
lower jaw of his pony. He wore deer-skin leggins, fringed and ornamented
profusely, and beaded moccasins.
Around his neck were strings of wampum and other beads, and he carried
the primitive bow and arrows.
“I am glad you saw him,” said Nathan, “for it may be a long time before
you will have opportunity of seeing another Indian so magnificently
dressed. Their every-day costume is much less elaborate. Besides, this
fellow is rich. Those wampum beads around his neck are money and current
coin with them. You noticed it was a long string, wound several times
about his neck. He also had on wampum bracelets. That braided necklace,
made of what looked like dried grass, is a charm, and a valuable
possession. It is made from a rare grass or weed which is found only a
spear in a place, and is very fragrant. He carried the bow and arrows,
instead of gun, to take part in the festival.”
“Did you ever see him before?”
“O, yes. His name is We-wan-shee. He is one of Mark’s scouts. He tells
me they have been having trouble with the Indians stealing from the
post. Squint-eye and Handle-the-bow have been thieving, and the chief
has given them up to the Government for punishment.”
“What did they steal,” asked Lissa.
“Horses. They make little account of anything else. They have not been
many years subject to the United States Government, and are quite
primitive in their habits and manners, you will find. I’ll take you down
to the reservation as soon as we are settled. You will enjoy them
immensely.”
“I suppose there is no danger in going among them,” she ventured.
“O, no,” and Nathan laughed. “I believe you are trembling now. You are
not afraid of that one Indian, I hope.”
“Yes,” Lissa said meekly, “I believe I was. It is lonely on this immense
prairie, with no sign of habitation anywhere, and—he looked ferocious.”
Again Nathan laughed.
“You’ll get used to them when you have them for neighbors.”
In the middle of the afternoon they stopped upon the banks of the river
and baited their horses, and rested while partaking of their luncheon
which they had brought with them. They had passed through many small
towns on their way, towns of mushroom growth, and at one of them they
had bought their dinner.
“We are upon the old overland route,” Nathan said. “Over this road many
emigrants have toiled along, suffering and dying, many of them at the
hands of the Indians. Do you see that ridge of earth which seems to have
been artificially thrown up there? That was undoubtedly a sort of
breastwork hastily made by a party of emigrants who were assaulted at
this place.”
Lissa shuddered. “Can it be possible I am really in this wild land of
which I have read. I wonder if any were killed here, and if the ground
has been soaked with their blood. How strange it all seems! I can
imagine so much since seeing that Indian. He does not look much like
those I have seen at Niagara, selling bead-work.”
“Not much; and you will receive another impression should you ever see a
band out on a war expedition against a hostile band, fully decorated
with warpaint and feathers. They really look formidable then.”
Lissa shivered again.
“We have made good time to-day. How far do you think we have driven?”
Nathan asked as, toward evening, they approached the suburbs of a small
town.
“I am sure I have no idea. The ponies have trotted steadily all day.
These mustangs are good travelers, if they are small.”
“They have endurance. I have been out on a hunt with the Indians when we
have kept in the saddle for a hundred miles at a time, the ponies loping
or running most of the way.”
“But how could you stand it to ride so far?”
“O, I can sleep in the saddle if necessary. One never knows what he can
do until he is put to the test. But I think we have come about
forty-five miles to-day. Yonder is the town. They are just lighting it.
How pleasant it looks, doesn’t it, this evidence of life after so many
miles of uninhabited wilds.”
“The ride has been perfectly delightful,” said Lissa. “I never better
enjoyed a day in my life.”
They drew rein at a freshly painted building, bearing a sign “Badger
House.” The landlady was evidently a Yankee, for she began a series of
questions to Lissa. Where did they hail from? Where were they going? Had
she ever been West before?
To Lissa’s responses she vouchsafed a consolatory remark: “Well, I’m
kind of sorry for you. There is nothin’ but work out here. Ye don’t look
as if ye’d seen much hardships. Ye’ll git awful homesick, I reckon. What
with the poor crops and the hot winds, and the grasshoppers, there ain’t
much to look for’d to.” After which she left the room to see to their
supper.
The next morning they started early, that they might get well on their
way before the intense heat of mid-day. They had been traveling for some
time, when Lissa suddenly started and grasped Nathan’s arm.
“Stop, stop!” she cried; “I’ve been here before. I know just what is
before us! Ah, how can it be—and yet, yet, I’ve seen it all before. Just
beyond that large tree the ground descends to a river. There is a marshy
strip of ground at the left, and a log lying diagonally, thus.” Lissa
indicated the position by crossing her hands. She was excited and eager.
“What does it all mean? Am I, too, clairvoyant?”
“We will see,” he said, chirruping to his horses. They soon came to the
height overlooking the river flats. Before them lay the scene Lissa had
described. The tears started in her eyes.
“O Nathan, have I ever lived in another form than this? I certainly
could never have been here before. I cannot understand it.”
“Not unless you have been here in a dream.” At the word, Lissa started.
“Ah, I know now. I remember! It is a dream! It is written down in my
journal. I wrote it when I first began to keep a journal, many years
ago. The dream made such an impression upon me, I wrote it down, and a
description of the scene. I have frequently read it over since.”
“What happened here, do you remember?”
“No, I could not remember at the time, but I awoke with great fright,
trying to cry out, with the feeling that I had been passing through some
terrible experience, with this scene clearly imprinted upon my
consciousness.”
“It is a very strange coincidence, Lissa, but this is the place where a
white man was flayed alive a number of years ago by the Indians.”
“Ah, I remember reading of it, and how horrible it was.”
“The man brought the punishment upon himself. He wantonly shot an Indian
woman. It was a terrible method of torture, however. He was flayed
before the eyes of his friends, and afterwards burned, I am told.”
“Oh, dreadful, dreadful!”
“The remainder of the party were allowed to go, I believe, after being
made to witness his suffering and death. I used to know the man when I
lived in Illinois,” Nathan added. “Remember, it is not so many years
ago. We are to go among the same tribe of Indians. Probably those who
committed the outrage are still living.”
“Don’t let us speak of it. It horrifies me. I will look up the date of
my dream in my journal, when we get home, and see if it corresponds with
the date of the tragedy. If it should prove to be the same, I should
believe that I saw the crime in my sleep. Ugh!”
“We will stop to rest under this tree,” said Nathan. “This is the first
large tree we have seen for some distance.”
Later in the day they halted at a ranch, and bought some delicious
water-melons of a smiling and inquisitive Dutch farmer, who grew them.
After mid-day they stopped by the side of a lovely, quiet river, and
enjoyed their luncheon, taken in this primitive fashion.
“I wonder if I was ever so hungry before,” said Lissa. “These peaches
are delicious, and surely melons were never so sweet and appetizing. The
biscuits are ambrosia and this lemonade is nectar. It was a good idea to
bring this ice, for the river water must be very warm to drink.”
The lunch ended, Lissa went down to the water and bathed her face and
hands in its limpid depths. Suddenly she found the skirt of her gown
covered with persistent burrs, which stuck to her fingers as she tried
to remove them, and pricked and irritated her hands intolerably.
Nathan laughed heartily at her discomfiture.
“Why, those are only sand-burrs, dear. I wonder if you have never before
made their acquaintance? We have no patent upon them, and you may find
them in many parts of the country, East and West. We don’t lay entire
claim to them here.”
“I should hope not,” said Lissa ruefully; “at least, we might dispense
with them, if they would permit us to, which is doubtful.”
Lissa tried again to free herself from the noxious weed. With Nathan’s
help she at last succeeded, and they resumed their journey.
The sun was painting the western horizon a glorious crimson when they
entered the last town on their route.
“Now, Lissa, we have twenty miles farther to travel before reaching
home. We have already come over forty miles to-day. Shall we stop in
this town and wait until morning?”
“O, no, no, no, not for anything. Alice will be looking for us and I am
so anxious to see her and our home. Do let us go on, or will it be too
great a drive for our horses?”
“They can endure it better than you, but I don’t think Alice will expect
you before to-morrow night. People usually take four days to drive
through. However, if you wish we will not stop.”
It was pleasant driving in the cool of the evening and the ponies sped
along rapidly, apparently little wearied by the many miles behind. They
had gone but a part of the distance, however, when the sound of a
galloping horse over the soft turfed ground struck upon the ear. Soon it
was beside them and a cheery voice saluted them.
“Hello, Nathan, is that you?”
“Why, Mark, how d’you do?”
Nathan grasped the hand of the handsome, yellow-haired fellow who came
along beside the wagon.
“This is our brother, Mark Cramer, Lissa.”
“And this is the little sister I have known so well, but never seen,”
said Mark. “You are very welcome to this western borderland, I assure
you. Alice is wild with happy anticipation of your coming.”
Lissa’s sister had come West and married the year before, and this was
Lissa’s first meeting with her brother-in-law.
“I heard in C—— that you were seen to drive through, so I hurried on to
catch you. My horse is fleet, but I have run him all the way. You drive
fast.”
“I think our desire to reach home has been communicated to the horses.
They have needed no urging,” Nathan replied.
“I wish you would change places with me,” Lissa said. “I am tired of
riding in a wagon, and a horseback ride would rest me.”
Mark hesitated. “My horse has never been ridden by a woman, or in fact
only once or twice by anybody, and is but illy broken. I took him from a
herd of wild bronchos from the plains. They were brought here a few days
ago. I fear he isn’t altogether safe; besides, the saddle—”
“Lissa is an expert horsewoman,” said Nathan, interrupting him. “If he
is not really vicious, I think she can manage him. As to the saddle, she
is used to that kind. Turn the off stirrup to this side, and it will be
all right.”
All being soon arranged for her, Lissa stepped from the wagon to the
horse’s back, and experienced a delightful sensation of rest and
exhilaration at the idea of a canter in the dewy, evening air over this
wild, strange country. She started on ahead. Her horse sprang into a
lope, increased his speed to a run, and she was soon skimming over the
road at a pace unparalleled in her experience. She became alarmed and
sought to check him, but was unable to do so. The spirited, half-wild
thing had taken the bit in his teeth, and heeded not her utmost strength
upon the bridle rein. She heard the wagon coming behind her, and knew
they were running their horses at their highest speed to try to keep her
in sight, but the mustangs, jaded as they were, were no match for the
swift-winged Pegasus beneath her. On, and on, and on he sped, faster,
faster, and faster, until the gentle breeze became a strong wind, taking
her breath. How long would she be able to hold out, she wondered. At the
rate they were going it would not be long before they would reach home.
Home—what a meaning that word had for her. But suppose the pony took a
wrong road; this road was marked only by the borders of high grass on
both sides. There might be branches leading no one knew where.
She had passed beyond the sound of the wagon now. On, on, on the swift
creature flew, no pause, no break in his mad flight. They must have
covered five miles at least, she determined. Her breath was coming in
frightened gasps, and her hands were trembling. She felt that she could
not keep her seat much longer. Suddenly the horse stumbled slightly and
slackened his gait. Lissa nearly fell, but by a desperate effort
recovered herself. She was holding tightly to the saddle horn. Again the
horse stumbled—there must be holes in the ground. Slump, slump, slump.
What was the matter? The broncho was going much slower now, and Lissa
spoke soothingly to him, and drew up on the rein. He submitted to her,
and subsided into an easy canter. At last, as the soil seemed to
frequently give way under his feet, he came down to a walk and permitted
her to keep him slowly at that gait, until she heard the welcome sound
of the wagon behind her, when she halted and waited until they came up.
“What a fright you have given us!” cried Nathan, a quiver of relief in
his voice. “We feared you had been carried off bodily to the plains or
thrown down by the way-side. Why did you ride so fast?”
“For the reason that I was obliged to. Whirlwind—I have named him—paid
no more attention to my commands for him to moderate his speed than if I
had been a gad-fly. He fairly flew with me until he stumbled, back here.
He seemed to lose courage or confidence then, and went slower.”
“I wonder you did not fall,” said Mark. “I was afraid of prairie-dog
town. These little fellows undermine the ground until it is hardly safe
to ride over.”
“And we, then, have been over a prairie-dog settlement?” questioned
Lissa.
“Yes, there is a large one here extending a mile on either side of the
road. If you had come through here in daylight you would have seen them
coming out of their little houses, and heard them bark.”
“I think I did hear one. Have they a little piping voice?”
“Yes, very likely you did hear them. You will often pass here and have
plenty of chance to study them,” said Nathan.
“Do they do any harm?”
“No, except to undermine the ground and make it treacherous to
travelers.”
The remainder of their journey was uneventful, and before midnight the
two sisters were united, and talking so animatedly that the night bid
fair to be sleepless.
“Come, Alice,” Mark said at last, “Lissa must be very tired and you are
to have weeks and months together now to tell everything to one another.
You don’t want to make her ill at the beginning.”
“No, I do not. But it does seem glorious to have some one to talk to.”
“As if we were not of any use in that line?”
Alice made a pretty grimace.
“You are away so much. And then it—it is different.”
But Alice kissed her sister, and left her to spend the remainder of the
balmy night in her new home.