Among the first tribes of the Great Oregon Territory, which established
friendly intercourse with the United States traders, were the Omahas. The
boast of these Indians was a chief named Blackbird, who was a steadfast
friend of the white men and the terror of the neighboring hostile tribes.
Such were his skill, courage, and success in war, that friends and foes
regarded him as enchanted. He delighted in trials of strength or agility,
in which he always came off victorious. In addition to these qualities, he
possessed a secret which rendered him more than human in the eyes of his
barbarous followers. This was an acquaintance with the properties of
arsenic, which he had obtained from a white trader. Whenever he was
displeased with an Indian, he prophesied his death before a certain day,
and the sure accomplishment of the prophecy rendered Blackbird an object
of terror and reverence.
On one occasion, the Poncas made an incursion into Blackbird's territory,
and carried away a number of women and horses. He immediately collected
his warriors and pursued them. The Poncas sheltered themselves behind a
rude embankment, but their persevering enemy, gaining a good position,
poured upon them a well-directed fire, which did fearful execution. The
Ponca chief dispatched a herald, with the calumet, but he was immediately
shot; a second herald experienced the same treatment. The chieftain's
daughter, a young maiden of much personal beauty, then appeared before the
stern foe, dressed with exquisite taste, and bearing the calumet.
Blackbird's heart softened, he accepted the sacred emblem, and concluded a
peace with his enemy. The pledge given and received was the beautiful
Ponca maiden, as wife to the fierce chieftain of Omaha.
For the first time the heart of Blackbird felt the genial influence of
love. He loved the young creature who had saved her tribe, with all the
ardor of untutored nature. But he was still a savage, and sometimes
ungovernable bursts of rage would transport him beyond all bounds of
affection or decency. In one of these, his beloved wife unwittingly
offended him. He instantly drew his knife and laid her dead with a single
blow. The dreadful deed calmed him in a moment. For a little while he
looked at the beautiful corpse in stupid grief, and then, with his head
wrapped in his robe, he sat down beside it. He ate no food, spake no word
for three days. The remonstrances of his people were received with
silence, and no one dared to uncover his face. At length one of them
brought in a small child, and placed the foot of the unhappy warrior on
its neck. Blackbird was moved by the significant appeal and throwing aside
his robe, he arose and delivered an oration.
The Omaha tribe were greatly thinned by small-pox, and to this loathsome
disease their great chieftain fell a victim. His dying request was bold
and fanciful. Near the source of the Missouri is a high solitary rock,
round which the river winds in a nearly circular direction, and which
commands a view of the adjacent country for many miles around. There
Blackbird had often sat to watch for the canoes of the white traders, and
there it was his dying request to be buried. He was to be mounted upon his
horse, completely armed, so as to overlook his lands, and watch for the
coming boat of the white men. His orders were obeyed; and on that same
high promontory, over the tomb of the Indian warrior was raised his
national banner, capped with the scalps which he had taken in battle. Of
course the Indians regard the rock with superstitious reverence, and have
their own stories of the scenes which occasionally take place on and
around it.