The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War

by Gustave Aimard

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE CLAIM.

  We will now leave our three travellers for a while, and employing ourprivilege of narrator, transfer the scene of our story a few hundredmiles away, to a rich and verdant valley of the Upper Missouri, thatmajestic river, with its bright and limpid waters, on the banks of whichnow stand so many flourishing towns and villages, and which magnificentsteamboats furrow in every direction, but which, at the period when ourstory opens, was almost unknown, and only reflected in the mirror of itswaters the lofty and thick frondage of the gloomy and mysterious virginforests that covered its banks.

  At the extremity of a fork, formed by two rather large affluents of theMissouri, stretches out a vast valley, bordered on one side by abruptmountains, and on the other by a long line of wooded hills.

  This valley, almost entirely covered with thick forests, full of game ofevery description, was a favourite gathering-place of the PawneeIndians, a numerous tribe of whom, the Snakes, had established theirabode in the angle of the fork, in order to be nearer theirhunting-grounds. The Indian village was rather large, for it countednearly three hundred and fifty fires, which is enormous for Redskins,who usually do not like to collect in any considerable number, throughfear of suffering from famine. But the position of the village was sowell chosen, that in this instance the Indians had gone out of theirusual course; in fact, on one side the forest supplied them with moregame than they could consume; on the other, the river abounded withdeliciously tasted fish of every description; while the surroundingprairies were covered throughout the year with a tall close grass, thatsupplied excellent pasturage for their horses.

  For several centuries the Snake Pawnees had been settled in this happyvalley, which, owing to its sheltered position on all sides, enjoyed asoft climate, exempt from those great atmospheric perturbations which sofrequently disturb the high American latitudes. The Indians lived therequiet and unknown, occupying themselves with hunting and fishing, andsending annually small bodies of their young men to follow thewar-trail, under the most renowned chiefs of the nation.

  All at once this peaceful existence was hopelessly disturbed; murder andarson spread like a sinister winding-sheet over the valley; the villagewas utterly destroyed, and the inhabitants were pitilessly massacred.

  The North Americans had at length gained knowledge of this unknown Eden,and, in their usual way announced their presence on this remote nook ofearth, and their taking possession of it by theft, rapine, andassassination.

  We will not repeat here the story Black-deer told the Canadian, butconfine ourselves to the assertion that it was in every point true, andthat the Chief, in telling it, far from rendering it more gloomy byemphatic exaggeration, had, on the contrary, toned it down with uncommonjustice and impartiality.

  We will enter this valley three months after the arrival of theAmericans which proved so fatal to the Redskins, and describe, in a fewwords, the way in which they formerly had established themselves on theterritory from which they so cruelly expelled the legitimate owners.

  Hardly had they become uncontested owners of the soil, than theycommenced what is called a clearing.

  The government of the United States had, about forty years ago, andprobably still has, a habit of requiting the services of old officers,by making them concessions of land on those frontiers of the Republicmost threatened by the Indians. This custom had the double advantage ofgradually extending the limits of the American territory by driving backthe Indians into the desert, and of not abandoning in their old dayssoldiers who during the greater portion of their life had shed theirblood nobly for their country.

  Captain James Watt was the son of an officer who distinguished himselfin the war of Independence. Colonel Lionel Watt, aide-de-camp toWashington, had fought by the side of that celebrated founder of theRepublic in all the battles against the English. Seriously wounded atthe siege of Boston, he had been, to his great regret, compelled toretire into private life; but, faithful to his principles, so soon ashis son James reached his twentieth year, he made him take his placeunder the flag.

  At the period when we bring him on the scene, James Watt was a man ofabout five-and-forty, although he appeared at least ten years older,owing to the incessant fatigue of the exacting profession in which hisyouth had been passed.

  He was a man of five feet eight, powerfully built, with broad shoulders,dry, muscular, and endowed with an iron health; his face, whose lineswere extremely rigid, was imprinted with that expression of energeticwill, blended with carelessness, which is peculiar to those men whoseexistence has been only one continual succession of dangers surmounted.His short grey hair, his bronzed complexion, black and piercing eyes,his well-chiselled mouth, gave his face an expression of inflexibleseverity, which was not deficient in grandeur.

  Captain Watt, who had been married for two years past to a charmingyoung lady he adored, was father of two children, a son and daughter.

  His wife, Fanny by name, was a distant relation of his. She was abrunette, with exquisite blue eyes, and was most gentle and modest.Although much younger than her husband, for she was not yettwo-and-twenty, Fanny felt for him the deepest and sincerest affection.

  When the old soldier found himself a father, and began to experience theintimate joys of a family life, a revolution was effected in him; hesuddenly took a disgust to his profession, and only desired the tranquiljoys of home.

  James Watt was one of those men with whom it is only one step from theconception to the execution of a plan. Hence, no sooner had the idea ofretiring from the service occurred to him than he at once carried itout, resisting all the objections and remonstrances his friends raised.

  Still, although the Captain was inclined to retire into private life, hedid not mean to put off military harness and assume a citizen's coat.The monotonous life of Union towns had nothing very seductive for an oldsoldier, for whom excitement and movement had been the normal conditionalmost from his birth.

  Consequently, after ripe reflection, he stopped half way, which, in hisopinion, would remedy the excessive simplicity and peace a citizen lifemight have for him.

  This was to be effected by asking for a claim on the Indian border,clearing it with the help of his servants, and living there happy andbusy, like a mediaeval lord among his vassals.

  This idea pleased the Captain the more, because he fancied that in thisway he should still be serving his country, as he would lay thefoundation of future prosperity, and develop the first traces ofcivilization in a district still given up to all the horrors ofbarbarity.

  The Captain had long been engaged with his company in defending thefrontier of the Union against the incessant depredations of theRedskins, and preventing their incursions; hence he had aknowledge--superficial it is true, but sufficient--of Indian manners,and the means he must employ not to be disturbed by these restlessneighbours.

  During the course of the numerous expeditions which the service hadcompelled him to make, the Captain had visited many fertile valleys,and many territories, the appearance of which had pleased him; but therewas one above all, the memory of which had been obstinately engraved onhis mind--a delicious valley he had seen one day as in a dream, after ahunting expedition, made in company of a wood-ranger--an excursion whichlasted three weeks, and had insensibly taken him further into the desertthan ever civilized man had gone before.

  Though he had not seen this valley again for more than twenty years, heremembered it as if he had seen it but yesterday--recalling it, as itwere, in its minutest details. And this obstinacy of his memory inconstantly bringing before him this nook of earth, had ended byaffecting the Captain's imagination to such a degree, that when heresolved to leave the service and ask for a claim, it was to this placeand no other that he was determined to go.

  James Watt had numerous friends in the offices of the Presidency;besides, the services of his father and himself spoke loudly in hisfavour: hence he experienced no difficulty in obtaining the claim herequested.

  Several pla
ns were shewn him, drawn up by order of government, and hewas invited to select the territory that suited him best.

  But the Captain had chosen the one he wanted long before; he rejectedthe plans shewn him, produced from his pocket a wide slip of tanned elkhide, unrolled it, and shewed it to the Commissioner of Claims, tellinghim he wanted this, and no other.

  The Commissioner was a friend of the Captain, and could not refrain froma start of terror on hearing his request.

  This claim was situated in the heart of the Indian territory, more thanfour hundred miles from the American border. The Captain wished tocommit an act of madness, of suicide; it would be impossible for him tohold his ground among the warlike tribes that would surround him on allsides; a month would not elapse ere he would be piteously massacred, asmust be his family and those servants who were mad enough to follow him.

  To all these objections, which his friend piled up one atop of theother, in order to make him change his opinion, the Captain only repliedby a shake of the head, accompanied by a smile, which proved that hismind was irrevocably made up.

  At length, the Commissioner being driven into his last intrenchments,told him point-blank that it was impossible to grant him this claim, asthe territory belonged to the Indians, and, moreover, a tribe had builtits village there since time immemorial.

  The Commissioner had kept this argument to the last, feeling convincedthat the Captain could find no answer, and would be compelled to change,or, at least, modify his plans.

  He was mistaken; the worthy Commissioner was not so well acquainted withhis friend's character as he might fancy.

  The latter, not at all affected by the triumphant gesture with which theCommissioner concluded his speech, coolly drew from another pocket asecond slip of tanned deer-hide, which he handed his friend, withoutsaying a word.

  The latter took it with an inquiring glance, but the Captain merelynodded to him to look at it.

  The Commissioner unrolled it with marked hesitation; from the oldsoldier's behaviour he suspected that this document contained aperemptory answer.

  In fact, he had scarce looked at it, ere he threw it on the table with aviolent movement of ill humour.

  This slip of deer-skin contained the sale of the valley and thesurrounding territory made by Itsichaiche or Monkey-face, one of theprincipal sachems of the Snake Pawnees, in his name and that of theother chiefs of the nation, in exchange for fifty muskets, fourteendozen scalping-knives, sixty pounds of gunpowder, sixty pounds ofbullets, two barrels of whisky, and twenty-three complete militiauniforms.

  Each of the chiefs had placed his hieroglyphic at the foot of the deed,beneath that of Monkey-face.

  We will say at once that this deed was false, and the Captain in theaffair was the perfect dupe of Monkey-face.

  This chief, who had been expelled from the tribe of Snake Pawnees forvarious causes, as we shall reveal at the proper moment, had forged thedeed, first to rob the Captain, and next to avenge himself on hiscountrymen; for he knew perfectly well that if the Captain receivedauthority from his government he would seize the valley, whatever theconsequences of this spoliation might be. The only condition the Captainmade was, that the Redskin should act as his guide, which he consentedto do without any hesitation.

  When the deed of sale was laid before him, the Commissioner was forcedto confess himself beaten, and _nolens volens_ grant the authority soobstinately solicited by the Captain.

  When all the documents were duly registered, signed, and sealed, theCaptain began his preparations for departure without further delay.

  Mrs. Watts loved her husband too well to offer any objections to theexecution of his plans. Brought up herself on a clearing at no greatdistance from the Indian border, she had become familiarized with thesavages, whom the habit of constantly seeing caused her no longer tofear them; besides, she cared little where she lived, so long as she hadher husband by her side.

  Quite calm as regarded his wife, the Captain therefore set to work withall that feverish activity which distinguished him.

  America is a land of prodigies; it is, perhaps, the only country in theworld where it is possible to find between to-day and the morrow the menand things indispensable for carrying out the maddest and most eccentricprojects.

  The Captain did not deceive himself in the slightest as to the probableconsequences of the resolution he had formed; hence he wished, as far aswas possible, to guard against any eventualities, and ensure thesecurity of the persons who would accompany him to his claim, the firstamong these being his wife and children.

  His selection, however, did not take him long: among his old comradesmany wished for nothing better than to follow him, at the head of thembeing an old sergeant of the name of Walter Bothrel, who had servedunder him for more than fifteen years, and who, at the first news of hisChief's retirement, went to him and said that as his Captain was leavingthe service, he did not care to remain in it, and the only favour heasked was leave to accompany him wherever he went.

  Bothrel's offer was gladly accepted by the Captain, for he knew thevalue of the sergeant, who was a sort of bull-dog for fidelity, a manof tried courage, and one on whom he could entirely count.

  To the sergeant Captain Watt entrusted the duty of enrolling thedetachment of hunters he intended to take with him, in order to defendthe new colony, if the Redskins took it into their head to attack it.

  Bothrel carried out his instructions with the intelligent consciousnesshe displayed in all matters, and he soon found in the Captain's owncompany thirty resolute and devoted men, only too glad to follow thefortunes of their ex-Chief, and attach themselves to him.

  On his side, the Captain had engaged some fifteen workmen of everydescription, blacksmiths, carpenters, &c., who signed an undertaking toserve him five years, after which they would become tenants at a smallrental of farms the Captain would give them, and which would becometheir own property on the expiration of a further term of years.

  All the preparations being at length terminated, the colonists,amounting to fifty men, and about a dozen females, at length set out forthe claim in the middle of May, taking with them a long pile of waggonsloaded with stores of every description, and a large herd of cattle,intended to provision the colony, as well as for breeding purposes.

  Monkey-face acted as guide, as had been arranged. To do the Indian thejustice due to him, we will say that he conscientiously performed theduty he undertook; and that during a journey of nearly three monthsacross a desert infested by wild beasts and traversed in every directionby Indian hordes, he managed to save those he led from the majority ofthe dangers that menaced them at each step.