_Leaving Republican Village.—Prairie between that and Tappage
Village.—Reception by Tappages.—Departure.—White Cranes.—Black
Chief of the Loups.—Reception.—Chief’s Lodge.—Soldier Chief’s
Feast._
The next morning about ten o’clock, we set off for the village of the
Tappage Pawnees, situated upon the Loup fork of the Platte, about
eleven miles farther up the river. As we left the town, a crowd of men,
women and children followed us, in the hope of obtaining presents. The
chief too, escorted us out. He was a princely man. His head was shorn,
excepting the scalp-lock; his face was free from paint; a long string
of wampum, the only ornament he ever wore, hung from his neck; a blue
blanket covered one shoulder, leaving bare his high, prominent chest,
and the sinewy arm which curbed the restless movement of his fretted
horse. He had been used to the saddle from childhood, and now governed
his impatient animal, with the calm controul of a practised rider.
There is nothing upon which the Indians pride themselves, more than their
horsemanship. Almost living in the saddle, they are as much at ease, when
mounted, as when sitting upon the floor of their own lodge. Many a time,
I have seen two or three village urchins, beset some unfortunate horse,
while quietly dozing and ruminating, upon the prairie. After sundry
coaxings and efforts, they would succeed in mounting upon his back, and
then without saddle or bridle, and with a whoop and yell, that terrified
the startled steed into a full gallop, they would scamper madly along,
clinging to his mane, and to each other, with a tenacity which would
have astonished any one but an Indian.
After accompanying us about a mile, the chief returned, followed by
a number of his warriors. The rest joined our band, and travelled in
company, for the purpose of witnessing our reception by their rival
village. Our pace was slow, being regulated by that of the oxen, who
toiled painfully along in the rear.
The prairie was beginning to show the effects of the autumn frost, and
the grass wore a blighted, withered look. The sun shone red and lurid
through the hazy atmosphere, denoting what at this season of the year,
is called among the whites, Indian summer. Not a breeze rustled the dry
grass, or rippled the swift, glassy waters of the Platte. Every thing
was quiet, except the loud voice of the teamster, expostulating with
his oxen; or an occasional crack, from the whip of Joseph, as he urged
forward his mules.
Now and then, we came upon large droves of horses, belonging to the
Republican village. They were roving along the banks of the Platte, in
bands of several hundred, prancing, and capering as wildly, as if they
were still free, upon their own prairies. Upon our approach, they raised
their heads, and gazed fearlessly upon us. Two or three of the largest,
then left the herd, and slowly approached. For a moment they remained
motionless, then with a loud snort, flinging their heels in the air, they
dashed back to the drove, which sped off, with a sound like thunder.
Occasionally too, we would pass a small hillock, upon which an Indian
stood motionless, watching our movements. There is a classic air about
them, when seen at a distance, with their robes flowing in graceful
drapery round them, their forms drawn fully up, and their outstretched
arms supported by their long spears. As these scouts thus gazed, so
calm and motionless, I almost imagined they regarded us with the despair
of persons, who knew that their fall was near, but that resistance was
hopeless.
While we were yet several miles distant from the village, we observed
mounted Indians, driving before them large droves of horses, to be ready
for service in the wild ceremony of our reception.
The town of the Tappage Pawnees is situated upon a broad plain
overlooking the Platte. It is the smallest of all the Pawnee villages,
and contains about a thousand inhabitants. The most of them were now
poured out upon the prairie, where we could distinguish them in the
distance, drawn up in a motionless body, waiting for the signal to dash
forward to meet us.
When we approached sufficiently near, it was given. Once more, we beheld
them coming surge-like upon us, and changing their course at the very
moment when our ruin seemed inevitable. Again the dizzying evolutions
of the troop passed before us. The wild neighing of the horses, mingled
in confusion—with the thunder of their hoofs—with the yells and whoops
of the Indians, and the clashing sound of their bows and tomahawks. When
this was concluded, the ceremony of presenting horses was performed. Half
an hour brought us to the town, where as before we found every being on
the look out for our coming, and every preparation made, to receive us
in a manner worthy of the nation. There is a sameness in Indian customs
and habits, which render description tedious. Suffice it to say, that
we were received by the chief and his people with all the kindness and
hospitality which their means afforded.
About ten o’clock on the next morning we mounted our horses and clattered
through the village on our route for the town of the Pawnee Loups,
situated about five miles farther up the river. This is the wildest of
the four villages, owing perhaps to the savage nature of its chief.
We rode in a straggling string along the low, irregular prairie. The Otoe
Indians skirted along the bank of the river. Those of the soldiers, who
were not engaged with the teams, reconnoitered the different pools of
water, in hopes of coming unawares upon some pensive duck, who might be
dozing upon their surfaces. Here and there we observed a broken patch of
corn, at the bottom of some ravine, where the washed earth was of so soft
a texture as to require but little trouble in cultivation. Occasionally
too, we passed a clump of dwarf trees, closely grouped together over the
brink of a spring, or run of water. Otherwise the prairie was bare of
forest, and covered only with long withered grass.
When we had ridden about half the distance, a number of Otoes came
scampering up, to tell us that there were about a dozen white cranes,
standing upon a sand-bar in the Platte. This incident, trivial as it
may seem, created quite an excitement among the troop. Half a dozen
loaded rifles were handed from the wagons, and as many soldiers started
off followed by a troop of Indians, with their arrows ready fitted to
their bows, in case the firearms of the whites should fail. But all this
preparation was useless, for when they arrived within about three hundred
yards of the bank, one of the birds, who, like an old man, on a cold day,
was standing with his head closely snugged up against his breast, and
gazing in moralizing mood upon the swift water, suddenly shot out a neck,
three feet long, and turned a quick and steady eye upon the approaching
hunters. He gazed a moment, then taking a step, and slowly raising his
wings until their tips nearly met over his back, he rose from the earth,
as if by mere volition, uttering a shrill cry which brought after
him, his startled comrades. As they rose, a shower of bullets whistled
after them, without disturbing their flight. They slowly mounted in air
floating like a snowflake over the silver Platte. For a few moments they
lingered over its shining bosom, as if loth to leave their resting place;
but after wheeling in several widely extended circles, they soared to an
immense height, and then took a steady course to the eastward and were
lost to the sight.
It was not long before we reached a high bluff in the prairie, from
whence we descried the village of the Pawnee Loups, about half a mile
distant, but we saw no signs of preparation to receive us. A single
Indian alone appeared, galloping at full speed over the prairies. His
horse was of a dark cream colour, fierce, and powerful. To his bit was
attached a scalp, consisting of the whole upper part of a human head, the
hair of which must have been full two feet in length, nearly reaching
the ground. The horseman proved to be the Black Chief of the Loups. When
he had come within a few yards of us, he sprang from his horse, and
reached out the bridle to one of our soldiers to hold.
His face was far more swarthy than that of any Indian we had ever seen;
but it was not more dark than the nature of the man. He was perfectly
naked, with the exception of a pair of leggings of dressed buffalo hide,
worn apparently for the sake of displaying a profusion of scalp-locks,
with which they were heavily fringed. His frame was not large, but
muscular and finely formed. His high chest looked as hard as rock, and
the tread of his mocassined foot, was as firm as iron. His whole figure
was one, which for fine proportion, and strength, might have served a
sculptor, but his scowling face marred the beauty of his person. Yet he
had his virtues. He was true to his word, and faithful to his friends;
but upon his enemies he let loose every evil passion. The old and the
young; the defenceless mother, and the harmless child, alike fell beneath
his war-club.
He advanced towards us, and grasped our hands with a grip which would
have done credit to a vice; then turning round, he awaited the coming of
his warriors, who had now assembled in the prairie.
Minute after minute passed, but still there were no signs of approach.
The brow of the Black Chief grew troubled, and his eye darkened, at the
delay. Still the minutes passed on, and the band remained motionless.
The eye of the chief was nearly hid beneath his scowling brow, and he
gnawed at his under lip, with a species of savage calmness. After a
moment he called one of the Pawnees, who had accompanied us from the last
village, and sent him forward with some instructions to his warriors.
The Indian bounded towards the band, but before he had gone more than
one quarter of the distance, a loud yell burst from them, and with a
heavy, resistless motion, they bore down upon us. The Indian who had
started, fled back to the party. At the moment that the cry sounded
from the Pawnee Loups, the chief raised his head, and sent up a long,
shrill scream in answer; then springing on his horse, he sat motionless,
watching with a keen eye, their every movement. They had approached
within a hundred yards of the party, when he again raised his voice in a
loud whoop, and waving his arm, they separated and rushed to right and
left, round us.
But few horses were presented by this village, as a party of Sioux
Indians had stolen down upon them but a few weeks before, and swept off
nearly one-third of the horses belonging to the town. The chief gave as
an excuse, that he had gambled away nearly all that he possessed.[I]
This was in fact the truth; for we afterwards learned that the horse
which bore him, was the only one left, of a large number that he owned
but a short time before.
[I] One of the principal games of the Pawnees, and the one on which the
most gambling is carried on, is played by means of a small ring and a
long javelin. This ring is about four inches in diameter; and the object
of the player, is to hurl his javelin through the ring, while it is sent
rolling over the ground, with great speed, by one of his companions in
the game. The javelin is filled with barbs nearly the whole length, so
that when it has once passed partly through the ring, it cannot slide
back. This is done to ascertain how far it went before it struck the
edges of the ring, and the farther the cast the more it counts in favour
of the one who hurled it. It is practised by the children, young men,
and chiefs. The first gamble for single arrows—the second for a bow and
quiver—and the last for horses.
Upon reaching the village we found, as usual, crowds of women and
children, curious to see us, though they did not press round us as in
the other villages. This was owing to the presence of the chief, who
rode by our side, and who, in fierce tones, ordered the crowd of gazers
to a distance. A concourse had assembled, too, around the entrance of
his lodge; but upon our approach, they drew back, and permitted us to
pass freely. In the inside we found a few of the principal warriors, who
alone had been admitted; the women and the rabble had been prohibited
from entering, and they dared not disobey orders. There was a feast, as
usual, but we ate little, as we knew what was to follow. Scarce had we
finished, before a little urchin was in attendance, to conduct us to the
lodge of the Soldier Chief, the second brave in the village. We found
him seated at a little distance from the fire, awaiting our arrival. As
we entered, he rose, and presented to Mr. E—— a large buffalo robe, upon
which was painted a hieroglyphic account of his warlike deeds. After
this he seated himself, and commenced describing the different fights,
and explaining the meaning of the various symbols.
He was a tall, thin man, with a sharp muscular face, and a deep-sunk eye,
which glittered in its socket like that of a basilisk. There was no spare
flesh about his frame, but all was brawn, and sinew. His look was that of
a person formed for the endurance of great, and continued toil, and his
hardened face showed that he had weathered exposures of all descriptions.
He apologised to the commissioner for not having come out with the rest
of the tribe to welcome him—being at bitter enmity with the chief, and
refusing on all occasions to act in concert with him.
A large bowl of boiled corn was then placed before us, and each of
us furnished by the Soldier’s wife with a small dipper of buffalo
horn. Having partaken of the mess as sparingly as the laws of Indian
politeness would permit, we took our leave. After we had left the lodge,
the Indian agent who accompanied us related the following account of a
murder which had occurred but a few months previous, and which was the
origin of the bitter feud between the Soldier and the Black Chief.