CHAPTER XVIII.
As circumstances, which I have yet to relate, have prevented my returnto the Shoshones, and I shall have no more to say of their movements inthese pages, I would fain pay them a just tribute before I continue mynarrative. I wish the reader to perceive how much higher the WesternIndians are in the scale of humanity than the tribes of the East, sowell described be Cooper and other American writers. There is achivalrous spirit in these rangers of the western prairies not to beexceeded in history or modern times.
The four tribes of Shoshones, Arrapahoes, Comanches, and Apaches neverattempt, like the Dacotah and Algonquin, and other tribes of the East,to surprise an enemy; they take his scalp, it is true, but they take itin the broad day; neither will they ever murder the squaws, children,and old men, who may be left unprotected when the war-parties are out.In fact, they are honourable and noble foes, sincere and trustworthyfriends. In many points they have the uses of ancient chivalry amongthem, so much so as to induce me to surmise that they may have broughtthem over with them when they first took possession of the territory.
Every warrior has his nephew, who is selected as his page: he performsthe duty of a squire, in ancient knight errantry, takes charge of hishorse, arms, and accoutrements; and he remains in this office until heis old enough to gain his own spurs. Hawking is also a favouriteamusement, and the chiefs ride out with the falcon, or small eagle, ontheir wrist or shoulder.
Even in their warfare, you often may imagine that you were among theknights of ancient days. An Arrapahoe and a Shoshone warrior armed witha buckler and their long lances, will single out and challenge eachother; they run a tilt, and as each has warded off the blow, and passedunhurt, they will courteously turn back and salute each other, as anacknowledgment of their enemy's bravery and skill. When these challengestake place, or indeed in any single combat without challenge, none ofthese Indians will take advantage of possessing a superior weapon. Ifone has a rifle and knows that his opponent has not, he will throw hisrifle down, and only use the same weapon as his adversary.
I will now relate some few traits of character, which will prove thenobility of these Indians[18].
[Footnote 18: There is every prospect of these north-western tribesremaining in their present primitive state, indeed of their gradualimprovement, for nothing can induce them to touch spirits. They knowthat the eastern Indians have been debased and conquered by the use ofthem, and consider an offer of a dram from an American trader as anindirect attempt upon their life and honour.]
Every year during the season dedicated to the performing of thereligious ceremonies, premiums are given by the holy men and elders ofthe tribe to those among the young men who have the most distinguishedthemselves. The best warrior receives a feather of the black eagle; themost successful hunter obtains a robe of buffalo-skin, painted inside,and representing some of his most daring exploits; the most virtuous hasfor his share a coronet made either of gold or silver; and thesepremiums are suspended in their wigwams, as marks of honour, and handeddown to their posterity. In fact, they become a kind of _ecusson_, whichennobles a family.
Once during the distribution of these much-coveted prizes, a young manof twenty-two was called by the chiefs to receive the premium of virtue.The Indian advanced towards his chiefs, when an elder of the triberising, addressed the whole audience. He pointed the young man out, asone whose example should be followed, and recorded, among many otherpraiseworthy actions, that three squaws, with many children, having beenreduced to misery by the death of their husbands in the last war againstthe Crows, this young man, although the deceased were the greatest foesof his family, undertook to provide for their widows and children tillthe boys, grown up, would be able to provide for themselves and theirmothers. Since that time, he had given them the produce of his chase,reserving to himself nothing but what was strictly necessary to sustainthe wants of nature. This was a noble and virtuous act, one that pleasedthe Manitou. It was an example which all the Shoshones should follow.
The young man bowed, and as the venerable chief was stooping to put thecoronet upon his head, he started back and, to the astonishment of all,refused the premium.
"Chiefs, warriors, elders of the Shoshones, pardon me! You know the goodwhich I have done, but you know not in what I have erred. My firstfeeling was to receive the coronet, and conceal what wrong I had done;but a voice in my heart forbids my taking what others have perchancebetter deserved.
"Hear me, Shoshones! the truth must be told; hear my shame! One day, Iwas hungry; it was in the great prairies. I had killed no game, and Iwas afraid to return among our young men with empty hands. I remainedfour days hunting, and still I saw neither buffaloes nor bears. At last,I perceived the tent of an Arrapahoe. I went in; there was no one there,and it was full of well-cured meat. I had not eaten for five days; I washungry, and I became a thief, I took away a large piece, and ran awaylike a cowardly wolf. I have said: the prize cannot be mine."
A murmur ran through the assembly, and the chiefs, holy men, and eldersconsulted together. At last, the ancient chief advanced once moretowards the young man, and took his two hands between his own. "My son,"he said, "good, noble, and brave; thy acknowledgment of thy fault andself-denial in such a moment make thee as pure as a good spirit in theeyes-of the great Manitou. Evil, when confessed and repented of, isforgotten; bend thy head, my son, and let me crown thee. The premium istwice deserved and twice due."
A Shoshone warrior possessed a beautiful mare; no horse in the prairiecould outspeed her, and in the buffalo or bear hunt she would enjoy thesport as much as her master, and run alongside the huge beast with greatcourage and spirit. Many propositions were made to the warrior to sellor exchange the animal, but he would not hear of it. The dumb brute washis friend, his sole companion; they had both shared the dangers ofbattle and the privations of prairie travelling; why should he part withher? The fame of that mare extended so far, that in a trip he made toSan Francisco, several Mexicans offered him large sums of money;nothing, however, could shake him in his resolution. In those countries,though horses will often be purchased at the low price of one dollar, itoften happens that a steed, well known as a good hunter or a rapidpacer, will bring sums equal to those paid in England for a fineracehorse.
One of the Mexicans, a wild young man, resolved to obtain the mare,whether or no. One evening, when the Indian was returning from someneighbouring plantation, the Mexican laid down in some bushes at a shortdistance from the road, and moaned as if in the greatest pain. The goodand kind-hearted Indian having reached the spot, heard his cries ofdistress, dismounted from his mare, and offered any assistance: it wasnearly dark, and although he knew the sufferer to be a Pale-face, yet hecould not distinguish his features. The Mexican begged for a drop ofwater, and the Indian dashed into a neighbouring thicket to procure itfor him. As soon as the Indian was sufficiently distant, the Mexicanvaulted upon the mare, and apostrophized the Indian:--
"You fool of a Red-skin, not cunning enough for a Mexican: you refusedmy gold; now I have the mare for nothing, and I will make the trapperslaugh when I tell them how easily I have outwitted a Shoshone."
The Indian looked at the Mexican for a few moments in silence, for hisheart was big, and the shameful treachery wounded him to the very core.At last, he spoke:--
"Pale-face," said he, "for the sake of others, I may not kill thee. Keepthe mare, since thou art dishonest enough to steal the only property ofa poor man; keep her, but never say a work how thou earnest by her, lesthereafter a Shoshone, having learned distrust, should not hearken to thevoice of grief and woe. Away, away with her! let me never see her again,or in an evil hour the desire of vengeance may make a bad man of me."
The Mexican was wild, inconsiderate, and not over-scrupulous, but notwithout feeling: he dismounted from the horse, and putting the bridle inthe hand of the Shoshone, "Brother," said he, "I have done wrong, pardonme! from an Indian I learn virtue, and for the future, when I wouldcommit any deed of injustice, I will think of thee."
/> Two Apaches loved the same girl; one was a great chief, the other ayoung warrior, who had entered the war-path but a short time. Of course,the parents of the young girl rejected the warriors suit, as soon as thechief proposed himself. Time passed, and the young man, broken-hearted,left all the martial exercises, in which he had excelled. He soughtsolitude, starting early in the morning from the wigwam, and returningbut late in the night, when the fires were out. The very day on which hewas to lead the young girl to his lodge, the chief went bear-huntingamong the hills of the neighbourhood. Meeting with a grizzly bear, hefired at him: but at the moment he pulled the trigger his foot slipped,and he fell down, only wounding the fierce animal, which now, smartingand infuriated with pain, rushed upon him.
The chief had been hurt in his fall, he was incapable of defence, andknew that he was lost. He shut his eyes, and waited for his death-blow,when the report of a rifle and the springing of the bear in the agoniesof death made him once more open his eyes; he started upon his feet,there lay the huge monster, and near him stood the young warrior whotimely rescued him.
The chief recognized his rival, and his gratitude overpowering all otherfeelings, he took the warrior by the hand, and grasped it firmly.
"Brother," he said, "thou hast saved my life at a time when It wassweet, more so than usual. Let us be brothers."
The young man's breast heaved with contending passions; but he, too, wasa noble fellow.
"Chief," answered he, "when I saw the bear rushing upon thee, I thoughtIt was the Manitou who had taken compassion on my sufferings, my heartfor an instant felt light and happy; but as death was near thee, verynear, the Good Spirit whispered his wishes, and I have saved thee forhappiness. It is I who must die! I am nothing, have no friends, no oneto care for me, to love me, to make pleasant in the lodge the dull hoursof night. Chief, farewell!"
He was going, but the chief grasped him firmly by the arm,--
"Where dost thou wish to go? Dost thou know the love of a brother? Didstthou ever dream of one? I have said we must be brothers to each other.Come to the wigwam."
They returned to the village in silence, and when they arrived beforethe door of the council lodge, the chief summoned everybody to hear whathe had to communicate, and ordered the parents to bring the young girl.
"Flower of the magnolia," said he, taking her by the hand, "wilt thoulove me less as a brother than as a husband? Speak! Whisper thy thoughtto me! Didst thou ever dream of another voice than mine, a younger one,breathing of love and despair?"
Then leading the girl to where the young warrior stood,--
"Brother," said he, "take thy wife and my sister."
Turning towards the elders, the chief extended his right arm, so as toinvite general attention.
"I have called you," said he, "that an act of justice may be performed.Hear my words:--
"A young antelope loved a lily, standing under the shade of a sycamore,by the side of a cool stream. Dally he came to watch it as it grewwhiter and more beautiful. He loved it very much, till one day a largebull came and picked up the lily. Was it good? No! The poor antelopefled towards the mountains, never wishing to return any more under thecool shade of the sycamore. One day he met the bull down, and about tobe killed by a big bear. He saved him. He heard only the whisper of hisheart. He saved the bull, although the bull had taken away the prettylily from where it stood, by the cool stream. It was good, it was well!The bull said to the antelope, 'We shall be brothers, in joy and insorrow!' and the antelope said there could be no joy for him since thelily was gone. The bull considered. He thought that a brother ought tomake great sacrifices for a brother, and he said to the antelope,'Behold, there is the lily, take it before it droops away. Wear it inthy bosom and be happy.' Chiefs, sages, and warriors, I am the bull:behold my brother the antelope. I have given unto him the flower of themagnolia. She is the lily that grew by the side of the stream, and underthe sycamore. I have done well, I have done much, yet not enough for agreat chief, not enough for a brother, not enough for justice! Sages,warriors, hear me all. The Flower of the Magnolia can lie but upon thebosom of a chief. My brother must become a chief. He is a chief, for Idivide with him the power I possess: my wealth, my lodge, are his own;my horses, my mules, my furs, and all! A chief has but one life, and itis a great gift that cannot be paid too highly. You have heard my words.I have said!"
This sounds very much like a romance, but it is an Apache story, relatedof one of their great chiefs, during one of their evening encampments.An Apache having, in a moment of passion, accidentally killed one of thetribe, hastened to the chiefs to deliver himself up to justice. On hisway he was met by the brother of his victim, upon whom, according toIndian laws, fell the duty of revenge and retaliation. They werefriends, and shook hands together.
"Yet I must kill thee, friend," said the brother.
"Thou wilt!" answered the murderer, "it is thy duty; but wilt thou notremember the dangers we have passed together, and provide and consolethose I leave behind in my lodge?"
"I will," answered the brother. "Thy wife shall be my sister during herwidowhood; thy children will never want game, until they can themselvesstrike the bounding deer."
The two Indians continued their way in silence, till at once the brotherof the murdered one stopped.
"We shall soon reach the chiefs," said he; "I to revenge a brother'sdeath, thou to quit for ever thy tribe and thy children, Hast thou awish? Think, whisper!"
The murderer stood irresolute; his glance furtively took the directionof his lodge. The brother continued,--
"Go to thy lodge. I shall wait for thee till the setting of the sun,before the council door. Go! thy tongue is silent, but I know the wishof thy heart. Go!"
Such traits are common in Indian life. Distrust exists not among thechildren of the wilderness, until generated by the conduct of white men.These stories, and thousand others, all exemplifying the triumph ofvirtue and honour over baseness and vice, are every day narrated by theelders, in presence of the young men and children. The eveningencampment is a great school of morals, where the red-skin philosopherembodies in his tales the sacred precepts of virtue. A traveller, couldhe understand what was said, as he viewed the scene, might fancy some ofthe sages of ancient Greece inculcating to their disciples thoseprecepts of wisdom which have transmitted their name down to us brightand glorious, through more than twenty centuries.
I have stated that the holy men among the Indians, that is to say, thekeepers of the sacred lodges, keep the records of the great deedsperformed in the tribe; but a tribe will generally boast more of thegreat virtues of one of its men than of the daring of its bravestwarriors. "A virtuous man," they say, "has the ear of the Manitou, hecan tell him the sufferings of Indian nature, and ask him tosoothe them."
Even the Mexicans, who, of all men, have had most to suffer, and sufferdaily from the Apaches[19], cannot but do them the justice they so welldeserve. The road betwixt Chihuahua and Santa Fe is almost entirelydeserted, so much are the Apaches dreaded; yet they are not hated by theMexicans half as much as the Texans or the Americans. The Apaches areconstantly at war with the Mexicans, it is true; but never have theycommitted any of those cowardly atrocities which have disgraced everypage of Texan history. With the Apaches there are no murders in coldblood, no abuse of the prisoners. A captive knows that he will eithersuffer death or be adopted in the tribe; but he has never to fear theslow fire and the excruciating torture so generally employed by theIndians in the United States territories.
[Footnote 19: What I here say of the Apaches applies to the wholeShoshone race.]
Their generosity is unbounded; and by the treatment I received at theirhands the reader may form an idea of that brave people. They will neverhurt a stranger coming to them. A green bough in his hand is a token ofpeace. For him they will spread the best blankets the wigwam can afford;they will studiously attend to his wants, smoke with him the calumet ofpeace, and when he goes away, whatever he may desire from among thedisposable wealth of the tri
be, if he asks for it, it is given.
Gabriel was once attacked near Santa Fe, and robbed of his baggage, bysome honest Yankee traders. He fell in with a party of Apaches, to whomhe related the circumstance. They gave him some blankets, and left himwith their young men at the hunting-lodges they had erected. The nextday they returned with several Yankee captives, all well tied, toprevent any possibility of escape. These were the thieves; and what theyhad taken of Gabriel was, of course, restored to him, one of the Indianssaying, that the Yankees, having blackened and soiled the country bytheft, should receive the punishment of dogs, and as it was beneath anApache to strike them, cords were given to them, with orders that theyshould chastise each other for their rascality. The blackguards wereobliged to submit, and the dread of being scalped was too strong uponthem to allow them to refuse. At first they did not seem to hurt eachother much; but one or two of them, smarting under the lash, returnedthe blows in good earnest, and then they all got angry, and beat eachother so unmercifully that, in a few minutes, they were scarcely able tomove. Nothing could exceed the ludicrous picture which Gabriel woulddraw out of this little event.
There is one circumstance which will form a particular datum in thehistory of the Western wild tribes,--I mean the terrible visitation ofthe small-pox. The Apaches, Comanches, the Shoshones, and Arrapahoes areso clean and so very nice in the arrangement of their domestic comforts,that they suffered very little, or not at all; at least, I do notremember a single case which brought death in these tribes; indeed, as Ihave before mentioned, the Shoshones vaccinate.
But such was not the case with the Club Indians of the Colorado of theWest, with the Crows, the Flat-heads, the Umbiquas, and the Black-feet.These last suffered a great deal more than any people in the world eversuffered from any plague or pestilence. To be sure, the Mandans had beenentirely swept from the surface of the earth; but they were few, whilethe Black-feet were undoubtedly the most numerous and powerful tribe inthe neighbourhood of the mountains. Their war-parties ranged the countryfrom the northern English posts on the Slave Lake down south to the veryborders of the Shoshones, and many among them had taken scalps of theOsages, near the Mississippi, and even of the great Pawnees. Between theRed River and the Platte they had once one hundred villages, thousandsand thousands of horses. They numbered more than six thousand warriors.Their name had become a by-word of terror on the northern continent,from shore to shore, and little children in the eastern states, who knewnot the name of the tribes two miles from their dwellings, had learnedto dread even the name of a Black-foot. Now the tribe has been reducedto comparative insignificancy by this dreadful scourge. They died bythousands; whole towns and villages were destroyed; and even now, thetrapper, coming from the mountains, will often come across numberlesslodges in ruins, and the blanched skeletons of uncounted and unburiedIndians. They lost ten thousand individuals in less than three weeks.
Many tribes but little known suffered pretty much in the same ratio. TheClub Indians I have mentioned, numbering four thousand before thepestilence, are now reduced to thirty or forty Individuals; and someApaches related to me that happening at that time to along the shores ofthe Colorado, they met the poor fellows dying by hundreds on the veryedge of the water, where they had dragged themselves to quench theirburning thirst, there not being among them one healthy or strong enoughto help and succour the others. The Navahoes, living in theneighbourhood of the Club Indians, have entirely disappeared; and,though late travellers have mentioned them in their works, there is notone of them living now.
Mr. Farnham mentions them In his "Tour on the Mountains"; but he musthave been mistaken, confounding one tribe with another, or perhapsdeceived by the ignorance of the trappers; for that tribe occupied arange of country entirely out of his track, and never travelled byAmerican traders or trappers. Mr. Farnham could not have been in theirneighbourhood by at least six hundred miles.
The villages formerly occupied by the Navahoes are deserted, though manyof their lodges still stand; but they serve only to shelter numeroustribes of dogs, which, having increased wonderfully since there has beenno one to kill and eat them, have become the lords of vast districts,where they hunt in packs. So numerous and so fierce have they grown,that the neighbouring tribes feel great unwillingness to extend theirrange to where they may fall in with these canine hunters.
This disease, which has spread north as far as the Ohakallagans, on theborders of the Pacific Ocean, north of Fort Vancouver, has also extendedits ravages to the western declivity of the Arrahuac, down to 30 deg. northlat., where fifty nations that had a name are now forgotten, thetraveller, perchance, only reminded that they existed when he falls inwith heaps of unburied bones.
How the Black-feet caught the infection it is difficult to say, as theirimmediate neighbours in the east escaped; but the sites of theirvillages were well calculated to render the disease more general andterrible; their settlements being generally built in some recess, deepin the heart of the mountains, or in valleys surrounded by lofty hills,which prevent all circulation of the air; and it is easy to understandthat the atmosphere, once becoming impregnated with the effluvia, andhaving no issue, must have been deadly.
On the contrary, the Shoshones, the Apaches, and the Arrapahoes, havethe generality of their villages built along the shores of deep andbroad rivers. Inhabiting a warm clime, cleanness, first a necessity, hasbecome a second nature. The hides and skins are never dried in theimmediate vicinity of their lodges, but at a great distance, where theeffluvia can hurt no one. The interior of their lodges is dry, andalways covered with a coat of hard white clay, a good precaution againstinsects and reptiles, the contrast of colour immediately betraying theirpresence. Besides which, having always a plentiful supply of food, theyare temperate in their habits, and are never guilty of excess; while theCrows, Black-feet, and Clubs, having often to suffer hunger for days,nay, weeks together, will, when they have an opportunity, eat torepletion, and their stomachs being always in a disordered state (theprincipal and physical cause of their fierceness and ferocity), it isno wonder that they fell victims, with such predispositions to disease.
It will require many generations to recover the number of Indians whichperished in that year; and, as I have said, as long as they live, itwill form an epoch or era to which they will for centuries refer.
The Travels and Adventures of Monsieur Violet in California, Sonora, and Western Texas Page 18
