At
Noon We Stopped To Rest Not Far From A Little Creek Replete With
Frogs And Young Turtles.
There had been an Indian encampment at the
place, and the framework of their lodges still remained, enabling us
very easily to gain a shelter from the sun, by merely spreading one
or two blankets over them.
Thus shaded, we sat upon our saddles, and
Shaw for the first time lighted his favorite Indian pipe; while
Delorier was squatted over a hot bed of coals, shading his eyes with
one hand, and holding a little stick in the other, with which he
regulated the hissing contents of the frying-pan. The horses were
turned to feed among the scattered bushes of a low oozy meadow. A
drowzy springlike sultriness pervaded the air, and the voices of ten
thousand young frogs and insects, just awakened into life, rose in
varied chorus from the creek and the meadows.
Scarcely were we seated when a visitor approached. This was an old
Kansas Indian; a man of distinction, if one might judge from his
dress. His head was shaved and painted red, and from the tuft of
hair remaining on the crown dangled several eagles' feathers, and the
tails of two or three rattlesnakes. His cheeks, too, were daubed
with vermilion; his ears were adorned with green glass pendants; a
collar of grizzly bears' claws surrounded his neck, and several large
necklaces of wampum hung on his breast. Having shaken us by the hand
with a cordial grunt of salutation, the old man, dropping his red
blanket from his shoulders, sat down cross-legged on the ground. In
the absence of liquor we offered him a cup of sweetened water, at
which he ejaculated "Good!" and was beginning to tell us how great a
man he was, and how many Pawnees he had killed, when suddenly a
motley concourse appeared wading across the creek toward us. They
filed past in rapid succession, men, women, and children; some were
on horseback, some on foot, but all were alike squalid and wretched.
Old squaws, mounted astride of shaggy, meager little ponies, with
perhaps one or two snake-eyed children seated behind them, clinging
to their tattered blankets; tall lank young men on foot, with bows
and arrows in their hands; and girls whose native ugliness not all
the charms of glass beads and scarlet cloth could disguise, made up
the procession; although here and there was a man who, like our
visitor, seemed to hold some rank in this respectable community.
They were the dregs of the Kansas nation, who, while their betters
were gone to hunt buffalo, had left the village on a begging
expedition to Westport.
When this ragamuffin horde had passed, we caught our horses, saddled,
harnessed, and resumed our journey. Fording the creek, the low roofs
of a number of rude buildings appeared, rising from a cluster of
groves and woods on the left; and riding up through a long lane, amid
a profusion of wild roses and early spring flowers, we found the log-
church and school-houses belonging to the Methodist Shawanoe Mission.
The Indians were on the point of gathering to a religious meeting.
Some scores of them, tall men in half-civilized dress, were seated on
wooden benches under the trees; while their horses were tied to the
sheds and fences. Their chief, Parks, a remarkably large and
athletic man, was just arrived from Westport, where he owns a trading
establishment. Beside this, he has a fine farm and a considerable
number of slaves. Indeed the Shawanoes have made greater progress in
agriculture than any other tribe on the Missouri frontier; and both
in appearance and in character form a marked contrast to our late
acquaintance, the Kansas.
A few hours' ride brought us to the banks of the river Kansas.
Traversing the woods that lined it, and plowing through the deep
sand, we encamped not far from the bank, at the Lower Delaware
crossing. Our tent was erected for the first time on a meadow close
to the woods, and the camp preparations being complete we began to
think of supper. An old Delaware woman, of some three hundred
pounds' weight, sat in the porch of a little log-house close to the
water, and a very pretty half-breed girl was engaged, under her
superintendence, in feeding a large flock of turkeys that were
fluttering and gobbling about the door. But no offers of money, or
even of tobacco, could induce her to part with one of her favorites;
so I took my rifle, to see if the woods or the river could furnish us
anything. A multitude of quails were plaintively whistling in the
woods and meadows; but nothing appropriate to the rifle was to be
seen, except three buzzards, seated on the spectral limbs of an old
dead sycamore, that thrust itself out over the river from the dense
sunny wall of fresh foliage. Their ugly heads were drawn down
between their shoulders, and they seemed to luxuriate in the soft
sunshine that was pouring from the west. As they offered no
epicurean temptations, I refrained from disturbing their enjoyment;
but contented myself with admiring the calm beauty of the sunset, for
the river, eddying swiftly in deep purple shadows between the
impending woods, formed a wild but tranquillizing scene.
When I returned to the camp I found Shaw and an old Indian seated on
the ground in close conference, passing the pipe between them. The
old man was explaining that he loved the whites, and had an especial
partiality for tobacco. Delorier was arranging upon the ground our
service of tin cups and plates; and as other viands were not to be
had, he set before us a repast of biscuit and bacon, and a large pot
of coffee. Unsheathing our knives, we attacked it, disposed of the
greater part, and tossed the residue to the Indian. Meanwhile our
horses, now hobbled for the first time, stood among the trees, with
their fore-legs tied together, in great disgust and astonishment.
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