THE
PRAIRIE FLOWER;
OR,
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST
BY EMERSON BENNETT
But O, the blooming prairie,
Here .re God's floral bower*, Of all that ho hath made on earth
The loveliest. * * *
This is the Almighty's garden,
And the mountain?, stars, and se*, Are nought compared in beauty,
With God's garden prairie free.
NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR.
CINCINNATI: PUBLISHED BY U. P. J'AMES,
Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1850,
BY J. A. & U. P. JAMES, n tne Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for the District, of Ohio.
DEAR SIR : In selecting your name to grace this page, I feel 1 am only doing an act appropriate to the esteem in which I hold and the friendship that I feel for you. And to me this inscription seems the more appropriate, that our acquaintance was formed in the sick-room, and at the bedside of one near and dear to me, while I was engaged in writing the closing scenes » f the pages which follow. My child, an only child, was lying at the point of death ; and you were called, in your professional capacity, to visit him. The kindly interest you manifested in his welfare the close and almost constant attendance you gave him the high professional ukill you displayed in his behalf and last, though not least, your success, under God, in snatching him, as it were, from the very jaws of death led me to admire your talents as a physician, and, together with one who had t-een, like myself, nearly prostrated with affliction, at the thought that our «nily child must go from us, to regard you as truly a " friend in need." The friendship thus begun, and since continued, I trust will be lasting ; wid as a remembrancer of the many pleasant hours we have spent together, rrchangip^ ideas and traveling over the bright and fertile fields of imayi nation, -, i .-ably inscribe this work to you.
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTORY.
As almost every one who takes any mferest in a book, has eome desire or curiosity to know how or why it came to be written, and as there are some things of which he desires to speak particularly, the author, compiler, or editor of Prairie Flower, (whichever you please, reader,) has, after due consideration, decided on giving the information alluded to, in an introductory note to the present volume. While engaged in writing for the press, a tall, dark-visaged, keen -eyed individual entered his sanctum, early one morning, bearing in his hand a bundle of no inferior size. Having stared around the apartment, as if to assure himself there was no mistake, he coolly took the only remaining seat, wben the following conversation occurred.
STRANGER. Mr. Scribblepen, I pre sume ?
AUTHOR. My name, sir !
STRANGER. He-e-m ! (A pause.) Write novels, presume, Mr. Scribblepen ?
AUTHOR. When I have nothing better to do.
STRANGER. (After a little reflection.) Found them on fact, eh ?
AUTHOR. Sometimes, and sometimes draw rather freely on the imagination, as the case may be.
STRANGER. How would you like the idea of writing one THAT SHOULD CONTAIN
NOTHING BUT FACT?
AUTHOR. (Becoming interested and laying down his pen.) Have no objections, provided there is fact enough, and of a nature sufficiently exciting to make the story interesting to the general reader.
STRANGER. (Frniliu.cr complacently, and tapping his burdle.) Got the documents here, and no mistake. Every word true, f pledge you my honor. Promise to work
them up faithfully, and they arc at your service.
AUTHOR. (In doubt.) But how am I to know they contain only facts ?
STRANGER. You have my word, sir !
AUTHOR. Did you write them ? Do they comprise a journal of your own adventures ?
STRANGER. (A little testily.) No mat ter about either ! They contain nothing but facts, and that is enough for any rea sonable man to know.
AUTHOR. But how am I to know this ? You must remember you are a stranger to me, sir !
STRANGER. (Coloring, and carelessly placing his hand upon the breech of a pis tol, barely seen protruding from beneath his waistcoat. ) I allow no one to doubt my word, sir !
AUTHOR. (A little nervous, and not caring to doubt such powerful testimony.)
! ah ! I see it is all right, of course. STRANGER. (Again smiling pleasantly.)
So you will undertake the job, Mr. Scrib blepen, and give facts in everything but the most important names ?
AUTHOR. I will try.
STRANGER. (Placing the package upon the table and rising as if to go.) You can have them, then. All I ask is that you will be a faithful chronicler. The names
1 wish changed, you will find marked. I have a desire to see the whole in print, and you may take all the profit and what ever credit you please, so you keep fact in view. The incidents are romantic, and sufficiently exciting for your purpose, with out embellishment. I shall keep an eye upon the publication, and you may sea me again, or you may not : I make no promises. Good morning, sir !
INTRODUCTORY.
AUTHOR. (Rising to bow him out.) But your name, stranger, if you please ?
STRANGER. (Hesitating.) I am called the Wanderer. Good morning, Mr. Scrib- blepen !
AUTHOR. Good morning Mr. "Wan derer ! (Returns to the mysterious pack age, opens, examines it, begins to read, gets interested, and goes to bed the night following minus dinner and supper.)
Having shown you how he became pos sessed of the facts of the story, the author would say a few words more as regards the characters set forth in the following pages, he would state, that, being all real, some represent a class, and some an indi vidual only. Prairie Flower is of the latter, and is drawn from real life. That the proceedings of herself and tribe may appear mysterious, and, to some, at first thought, (her locality and everything con- 1 sidered) out of place, the author does not ! doubt ; but he believes that no one who is conversant with Indian history, and|
especially with that relating to the Norft* western Tribes and the Moravian Missions, during the early settlement of Ohio, will find in this character or her tribe anything that may be termed overstrained or unnat ural. That she is a marked character, distinct and peculiar, and liable to be mis construed by those who do not take every thing into consideration, but allow a first fancy to have full sway he admits ; but at the same time would desire such to withhold an expression of opinion, until they shall have read to the end, when he trusts they will find the explanation satisfactory.
With these remarks, and the simple statement that the reader may look upon the scenes described as real, the author would take his respectful leave for the present, hoping the reader may find, if nothing else of interest, information re garding life in the Far West, sufficient to repay a perusal.
CINCINNATI.
ADDITIONAL.
The foregoing was afhxed to the first edition of " PRAIRIE FLOWER," which appeared in 1849, and which, though a large one, va exhausted in a little over three months. And the Author would here take occasion to say, that the success tin's work has met with from the reading community the high mark of .popular favor which ht.s been bestowed upon it by an intelligent and discriminating public together with th friendly notices it has received from the Press, and the eulogistic remarks of correi pendents, both known and unknown to the Author, from all parts of the country hav been the green OASES in the desert of life of one who toils only to please, and who herewith returns his humble thanks to each and all, coupled with his regrets th-at the work in question is not more worthy of the eulogiums that greeted its first appearance.
To those unknown friends at a distance who have made k
indly inquiries by letter, concerning the strange individual from whom the author obtained the manuscripts referred to in the foregoing note as also in reference to the present vhereabouta of ' : Prairie Flower" herself, and others but which a press of business has prevented him from answering as he otherwise would have done the author takes '.reason to say, to one and all, that as respects the " Wanderer," having never heard from him eince, he congratulates himself on having given no offense, in working up the material! he furnished ; and that, with regard to Prairie Flower and the rest, he knows nothing additional to the facts recorded in the following pages.
ClKCIKNATI, O..
THE
PRAIRIE FLOWER
CHAPTER I.
THE PROPOSITION THE RESOLVE HO: FOR OREGON.
" Ho ! for Oregon what say you, Frank Leighton ? " exclaimed my college chum, Charles Huntly, rushing into ro^ room, nearly out of breath, where I vas cosily seated, with my sheep-skin diploma spread before me, engaged in tracing out my legal right to subjoin the magical ini tials, M. D., to my name. " Come, what say you, Frank?" queried my companion again, as I looked up in some surprise.
"Why, Charley," returned I, "what new notion has taken possession of your brain ? "
" Oregon and adventure," he quickly rejoined, with flashing eyes. "You know, Frank, our collegiate course is finished, and we must do something for the remain der of our lives. Now, for myself, I can not bear the idea of settling down to the dry practice of law, without at least hav ing seen something more of the world ; and by all means I would not settle here in the east, where lawyers are as plenty as stubble in a harvested rye-field, and, for the matter of that, to make the compari son good, just about as much needed. You know, Frank, we have often planned to gether, where we would go, and what we would do, when we should get our liber ty ; and now the western fever has seized me, and I am ready to exclaim ho ! for Oregon."
"But, Charley," returned I, "consider; here we are now, snug in old Cambridge, nd Oregon is thousands of miles away. It ia much easier saying, ho ! for Oregon,
than it is getting to Oregon. Besides, what should we do when there ? "
" Hunt, fish, trap, shoot Indians, any thing, everything," cried my comrade, en thusiastically, "so we manage to escape ennui, and have plenty of adventure ! "
"I must confess," said I, "that I like the idea wonderfully well but "
" But me no buts ! " exclaimed Huntley; " you will like it I shall like it and we will both have such glorious times. Col lege law pah ! I am heartily sick of hearing of either, and long for those mag nificent wilds, where a man may throw about his arms without fear of punching anybo dy in the ribs. So come, Frank, set about matters settle up your affairs, if you have any, either in money or love and then follow me. Faith! man, I'll guide you to a real El Dorado, and no mistake."
The words of my companion produced a strong effect upon my naturally restless mind. Nothing that he could have pro posed, at that moment, would have suited my inclination better than such a journey of adventure ; and no companion would I have chosen in preference to himself. We had been playmates together in infancy, we had studied together in youth, and, for the last four years, had been chums at old Harvard University he studying law and I medicii '" -, by the strict discipline of the U .' ; rsity, we were not entitled to occupy apartment, on account
of our d . udies ; but the influence
THE PRAIRIE FLOWER; OR,
of our connections made us privileged per sonages ; and the professors winked at many things in us, that in others would have been grave offences. The substance of the matter is, we began our studies to gether, roomed together, and each com pleted his course at the same time.
From childhood up, I had loved Charles Huntly or Charley, as I more familiarly termed him as a brother ; and this frater nal feeling I knew he as warmly returned. We walked together, played together, sung together ever took each other's part on all occasions, whether right or wrong and, in fact, for our close intimacy, were dubbed the Siamese twins. We were both only sons of wealthy parents. My father was a wholesale merchant in Bos ton ; so was his; the only difference in their occupations being, that the former dealt in dry goods, the latter in groceries. Now there was another strong tie between young Huntly and myself. He had an only sister a sweet, modest, affectionate creature, some three years his junior whom I loved with all the ardent passion of a fiery, impetuous youth ; and was, I fancied, loved in return. Be this as it might, my passion for his sister he knew and encouraged; and this, as I said be fore, only added a stronger link to the chain of our friendship.
In age, Charles Huntly was my senior by nearly a year, and was now a little turned of twenty-one. In stature we were much alike both being about five feet and ten inches, with regular propor tions. In complexion we differed mate rially he being light, with light curly hair ; and I dark, with hair black and straight. In personal appearance my friend was remarkably handsome and pre possessing. His beauty did not consist in the mere perfection of features though these were, in general, very fine so much as in the play and expression of the whole countenance, where every thought seemed to make an instant and passing impres sion. His forehead was high and broad, and stamped with intellect, beneath which shone a bright, blue eye, that could spar kle with mirth, or flash with anger, as the case might be. The contour of his face was a something between the Grecian and Anglo-Saxon, though the nose was deci
dedly of the former cast. His skin fine, smooth, and almost beardless gave him an appearance so boyish that I was often mistaken for his senior by many years a matter which generally irritated him not a little, as he hat! a strong repugnance to being thought effeminate. His tempera ment was strongly nervous. At heart h was truly noble and generous ; but this, by those who did not know him intimately, was very frequently overlooked in his hot and hasty temper. None was more ready to resent an insult, or redress a wrong ; and as he was very tenacious of his own honor, so was he of another's. If you insulted him, you must take the conse quences, and they would not be slow to follow, unless ample apology were made, in which case his hand was ever open for friendship. If he did you a wrong, and became convinced of it, he could not rest until he had sued for pardon. He was wild at times in his notions, headstrong, hot-brained, and, in general, a great en thusiast. Whenever anything new took possession of his mind, it was the great all-in-all for the time being ; but was very apt to pass away soon, and be supplied by something equally as great, and equally as evanescent.
Such, as I have just enumerated, were the striking points in the appearance and character of Charles Huntly; and though in the latter we were much alike, yet we seldom quarreled, and then only to make it up the next time we met.
Now, as Charles remarked, in language which I have already quoted, we had of ten, during our leisure moments, laid out plans of adventure for the future, when our collegiate course should be finished. But the plan of to-day had been alway superseded by the one of to-morrow, so that, unless we resolved on something steadily, it was more than probable that the whole would result, simply, in specu lating visions of the brain. The last pro position was, of course, the one which opens this chapter ; and which had, per haps, less weight with me at the moment, from my remembering the failure of all the others. Still, there was one thing in it* its favor which none of the others had Lad. We had completed our studies now, and were at liberty, if we resolved on it, to
ADVENTURES IN THE FAR WEST.
9
carry our project into immediate execu tion, before it should become trite ; and be sides, nothing before had seemed so fully to meet the views of both in every par ticular. Adventure was our delight in every shape we could find it ; as several powerful admonitions and premonitory warnings from our tutors, for various little
Ee-jcadilloes such as tying a calf to the e!l rope, playing the ghost to old women, upsetting beehives, and robbing hen roosts might well attest. But there was, notwithstanding, a darwback, which made me hesitate when my friend interrupted me. He w
as of age, but I was not ; and my father might not be willing to give his consent, without which I certainly would not venture. Another : I loved Lilian Huntly ; and should I go and leave her, she might get married in my absence a result which I felt was not to be endured.
While I sat, with my head upon my hand, buried in thought, rapidly running these things over in my mind, my compan ion stood watching me, as if to gather my decision from the expression of my coun tenance.
"Well, Frank," said' he, at length, "it seems you have become very studious all a once. How long is it going to take you to decide on accepting so glorious a propo sition?"
" How long since the idea of it entered your head ? " I inquired.
" Ten, fifteen, ay, (looking at his watch) twenty minutes. I was down for the pur pose of getting a hack, to take us over to the city, when the thought came across me like a flash of lightning, and I turned and (lurried back, to "
" See me before you altered your mind," interrupted I, completing his sentence.
" Confound you, Frank wait till I have done, I hurried back, I say, to let you ahare the bright prospect with me."
" Humph ! prospect indeed ! " said I, with a laugh, merely for the purpose of annoying him ; for I saw, by his whole demeanoi, that he was decidedly in ear nest. "And a prospect it will ever remain, I am thinking, a long way ahead. You are joking, Charley, are you not ? "
Bennett, Emerson - Prairie Flower 01 Page 1
