_Departure from Grand Pawnees.—Delegation.—Death Song._
Two days had elapsed, and we had again returned to the Grand Pawnee
village. We now prepared for our return to the white settlements. Nearly
two months had elapsed since the prairie had become our home, and its
wild sons our fellows. We had lived in the land of the savage; we had
seen, in his real character, the man of nature. We had seen him in his
moments of joy, and pain; in his moments of pride and humility; in his
paroxysms of excitement, when urged on by his impetuous nature; and in
his hours of relaxation, when a calm was upon his burning bosom, and
his passions were asleep. We had seen him, in his home, in the midst
of his family, where the gushes of his heart were unrestrained; when
the feelings of the husband, and father, and all the kind impulses of
nature had burst the iron fetters of habit, and resumed their empire. The
illusions thrown around him by the exaggerated reports of travellers,
and the fictions of poets, had been removed; and we had beheld him, as
he really was; an untutored, generous, yet savage man. He had lost much
of the romance with which imagination had clothed him. His faults, his
vices, his crimes, now stood out in glaring colours, and threw into the
shade, many of his higher qualities. Still with all his imperfections, we
had learned to admire his chivalrous nature; and to look upon him while
uncontaminated by communion with the whites, as among the noblest works
of his Maker.
The sun rose cheerily on the morning of our departure. A crowd had
assembled in front of the chief’s lodge, to take a last look at the band
of pilgrims, who had ventured among them.
Many of the most distinguished warriors stood proudly drawn up, with
their robes muffled round their folded arms, and their heads thrown back.
They watched us silently, and with countenances as fixed as marble. The
females were in groups; some in the area in front of the chief’s abode;
and others on the dome-like tops of the lodges. The voice of childish
glee was ringing among the crowd; and their merry games were going
forward. Occasionally they would pause to watch the process of harnessing
the horses before the wagons; and the next instant would resume their
gambols.
A delegation of Pawnees, four from each village, had been selected
to accompany us to the garrison, in order if possible, to concert a
general peace, among various tribes. This delegation was joined by many
volunteers, until at length, nearly eighty were prepared to accompany us,
to the terra incognita of the white man.
A smile of kindness illumined the grim face of our savage host, as he
bade us farewell. The horses were saddled; the oxen were yoked, and had
commenced moving onward. We were preparing to mount, when our attention
was attracted by a low, and not inharmonious cry, which rose from the
distant part of the village. It came nearer and nearer, sinking into a
long wailing moan, in which many voices were united. At length a train of
Indians emerged from behind one of the lodges. They were dressed in white
buffalo robes.[K] They approached us slowly, still wailing out their
mournful chant; and we recognized them for our party of delegates, and
their fellow travellers.
[K] The white buffalo robe is so called, merely from one of its sides
being whitened with chalk, in dressing it. The wool is of the same colour
as that of all others, (a dark brown.)
They were in fact singing their death-song, as is customary with all the
Indian tribes, before setting out, upon any perilous expedition. It is
merely a recounting of their different exploits in battle, and winds up,
by taking leave of their friends and fellow townsmen. Although it is sung
with an air of vast resignation, by all; and although you would think,
that after it, the songster, would go to the grave, “like a lamb to the
slaughter;” yet from all that I could ever learn, there are no people
that have a greater antipathy to dying, than the savages, or take more
trouble to keep out of harm’s way.
The melancholy dirge swelled loudly as the long train moved past us; but
it gradually became fainter, and fainter, as they wound their way among
the distant lodges, and disappeared.
In a few moments, we were galloping over the prairie, to overtake some of
the party who had preceded us. A train of Indians followed us, and the
tops of the lodges were crowded.
After travelling a mile, we at last crossed the top of a ridge, and lost
sight of the town.