_The Shian Captive._
During the month of May previous, business had called Major Dougherty to
the Otoe Agency, on the Missouri. One morning, while there, a wearied
messenger made his appearance. He had been sent by a half-breed from the
Pawnee village, with intelligence that the Loups had taken a Shian woman
prisoner, and intended to burn her at the stake, in the course of a few
days.[J]
[J] The Pawnee Loups are the only Pawnee tribe that yet retain this
custom. They offer their victim to the Great Star, (the planet Venus.)
The prisoner is, if possible, kept in ignorance of his intended fate,
until led out to die. The sacrifices are generally offered in the spring
of the year, to insure a bountiful harvest.
The Agent determined if possible to save her. Having made a few hurried
preparations, he set off with five companions. A journey of three days
brought them to the village. The news of their visit and the object of it
had preceded them, and they experienced an ungracious reception. No hand
was extended in friendship; no voice uttered the words of welcome.
As the little band passed through the village, the tops of the lodges
were crowded with women and children, and an immense concourse was drawn
up in front of the dwelling of the chief. They forced their way through
the fierce and sullen mob, and cleared a passage to the entrance.
Here stood the chief. _His_ welcome, and _his_ alone was cordial. He
ushered the Agent into his dwelling, nor did he turn a deaf ear to his
request, that the Shian female might be spared. He told him, however,
that _he_ had no power to free her, and that all he could do would be to
assemble a council of the nation, and lay the matter before _them_; that
he would use his influence; and that if they could be prevailed upon, the
captive should be saved. He accordingly despatched messengers in every
direction, to call a council of the chiefs and braves of the nation, and
they assembled that very night. They took their seats around the lodge in
silence, with faces which gave but little hope of a merciful result to
their deliberations. In the centre sat the Agent and his companions; and
near them the Shian captive. She had been led in passively, and made no
appeal, for she had no hope. It seemed as if every sense and feeling had
been paralyzed, by the horror of her approaching fate.
The Agent rose and stated his object to the meeting. He was a firm man;
he had spent much of his life among the savages; but it needed all his
resolution, and all his knowledge of the Indian character, to effect
the desired object. As he spoke there was no friendly look returned; no
sound of approbation uttered. They listened with a calm, cold air, and he
finished his address, conscious that he had gained no point, nor enlisted
the friendly feeling of a single breast, in the whole of the dark circles
which surrounded him.
When he ended, the chief, who during the whole time had been seated
quietly at the foot of a pillar, rose. He was in favour of releasing the
captive, and of sending her off with the whites. He spoke with the wild
energy, and vehement gesticulation customary among the Indians. During
his speech there was a silence—a portentous silence in the lodge. But
when he had finished, a hundred throats yelled out cries of anger, and
a hundred eyes gleamed fiercely upon him. It was not, however, in his
nature to yield. Incensed at the opposition to his will, he raised his
voice, until it even drowned the noise of the whole assembly, and swore
by the Great Spirit, that she should be delivered to the whites; and he
dared any man of the whole assembly, to offer her the slightest injury.
All quailed before the master spirit, and bowed to the superior energy
of his nature. One after another they left the lodge, until the chief,
the captive, and the whites were its sole occupants. In a few moments
the chief went out also. In an hour he returned, followed by two armed
warriors, whom he stationed in the opposite part of the lodge, placing
the squaw between them. Upon being asked the reason of this precaution,
he mentioned that the Soldier Chief, instigated by one of the Medecin-men
of the village, had created some disturbance, which caused him to fear
for the life of the captive, and that these men were placed to protect
her. He evaded all farther inquiries, and shortly after left the lodge.
The whites stretched themselves upon their bear-skins, but scarcely
closed their eyes that night. The guards kept watch on each side of
the captive; motionless, but sleepless. On the following morning, the
horses were saddled in front of the lodge, and the party having armed
themselves, prepared to mount. The chief led out the captive, and forcing
back the angry crowd, he placed her upon a horse, between two of the
whites; at the same time cautioning them to lose no time in leaving
the village. They accordingly attempted to push forward; but the crowd
hemmed them in so closely, that it was with difficulty they prevented
their horses from trampling them down. This throng continued to press
round them, until they reached the lodge of the Soldier Chief. As they
passed it, a bow twanged from within, and an arrow whizzing through the
air, was buried up to the feather in the side of the Shian captive. With
a loud scream, she tossed her arms in the air, and fell forward upon
the neck of the horse. At the same moment, a loud roar rose from the
multitude; and two Indians seizing the bridle, jerked the horse onwards.
The crowd opened to let them pass; but before the whites could follow,
it had again closed. At that moment, the Agent heard a loud whoop behind
him, and turning, beheld the Black Chief, and the Soldier, grappled in a
desperate conflict, while the followers of each, stood by, watching the
result. They were both unarmed, and the issue was to depend upon their
bodily strength alone. They were well matched, but the Black Chief had
the advantage, for he had a deadly gripe upon the throat of his opponent.
The Agent knew, however, that whichever might be victorious, the conflict
would terminate fatally to himself. He therefore sprang from his horse,
and succeeded with the aid of several chiefs, in dragging them apart,
and put an end to the contest. He then turned to look for the captive.
She had been borne off by the crowd, who were rushing over the prairie
with deafening yells.
Still determined if possible to save her, he sprang upon his horse and
galloped after them. But he was too late. They had torn the wretched
being to pieces, smeared themselves with her gore, and were whirling her
head and quivering limbs in the air.
From that time, there had been a settled hatred, between the Black Chief
and the Soldier. They spoke not; they entered not the lodges of each
other, and acted no more in concert than if they had been two leaders of
separate villages.