hand upon a horse or mule; and ere we, in attempting to follow their
example, had our horses by the halter, the teams were harnessed and
ready for the "march." A noble sight those teams were, about forty in
number, their immense waggons still unmoved, forming an oval breastwork
of wealth, girded by an impatient mass of near four hundred mules,
harnessed and ready to move again along their solitary way. But the
interest of the scene was much increased when, at the call of the
commander, the two lines, team after team, straightened themselves into
the trail, and rode majestically away over the undulating plain. We
crossed the Pawnee Fork,[44] and visited the Caw Camp. Their wigwams
were constructed of bushes inserted into the ground, twisted together
at the top, and covered with the buffalo hides which they had been
gathering for their winter lodges. Meat was drying in every direction.
It had been cut in long narrow strips, wound around sticks standing
upright in the ground, or laid over a rick of wicker-work, under which
slow fires are kept burning. The stench, and the squalid appearance
of the women and children, {64} were not sufficiently interesting
to detain us long; and we travelled on for the buffalo which were
bellowing over the hills in advance of us. There appeared to be about
one thousand five hundred souls, almost in a state of nudity, and
filthy as swine. They make a yearly hunt to this region in the spring,
lay in a large quantity of dried meat, return to their own territory
in harvest time, gather their beans and corn, make the buffalo hides,
(taken before the hair is long enough for robes), into conical tents,
and thus prepare for a long and merry winter.

They take with them, on these hunting excursions, all the horses and
mules belonging to the tribe, which can be spared from the labour
of their fields upon the Konzas River, go south till they meet the
buffalo, build their distant wigwams, and commence their labour. This
is divided in the following manner between the males, females, and
children:--The men kill the game. The women dress and dry the meat, and
tan the hides. The instruments used in killing vary with the rank and
wealth of each individual. The high chief has a lance, with a handle
six feet and blade three feet in length. This in hand, mounted {65}
upon a fleet horse, he rides boldly to the side of the flying buffalo,
and thrusts it again and again through the liver or heart of one, and
then another of the affrighted herd till his horse is no longer able to
keep near them. He is thus able to kill five or six, more or less, at
a single hit. Some of the inferior chiefs also have these lances; but
they must all be shorter than that of his Royal Darkness. The common
Indians use muskets and pistols. Rifles are an abomination to them.
The twisting motion of the ball as it enters, the sharp crack when
discharged, and the direful singing of the lead as it cuts the air,
are considered symptoms of witchcraft that are unsafe for the Red Man
to meddle with. They call them medicines--inscrutable and irresistible
sources of evil. The poorer classes still use the bow and arrow. Nor is
this, in the well-trained hand of the Indian, a less effective weapon
than those already mentioned. Astride a good horse, beside a bellowing
band of wild beef, leaning forward upon the neck, and drawing his limbs
close to the sides of his horse, the naked hunter uses his national
weapon with astonishing dexterity and success. Not unfrequently, when
hitting no bones, does he throw his arrows quite through the buffalo.
Twenty {66} or thirty thus variously armed, advance upon a herd. The
chief leads the chase, and by the time they come alongside the band,
the different speed of the horses has brought them into a single file
or line. Thus they run until every individual has a buffalo at his
side. Then the whole line fire guns, throw arrows or drive lances, as
often and as long as the speed of the horses will allow; and seldom
do they fail in encounters of this kind, to lay upon the dusty plain
numbers of these noble animals.

A cloud of squaws who had been hovering in the neighbourhood, now
hurry up, astride of pack-animals, strip off hides, cut off the best
flesh, load their pack saddles, mount themselves on the top, and move
slowly away to the camp. The lords of creation have finished their
day's labour. The _ladies_ cure the meat in the manner described above,
stretch the hides upon the ground, and with a blunt wooden adze hew
them into leather. The younger shoots of the tribe during the day are
engaged in watering and guarding the horses and mules that have been
used in the hunt--changing their stakes from one spot to another of
fresh grass, and crouching along the heights around the camp to notice
the approach of {67} foes, and sound the alarm. Thus the Konzas,
Kausaus, or Caws, lay in their annual stores. Unless driven from their
game by the Pawnees, or some other tribe at enmity with them, they
load every animal with meat and hides about the first of August, and
commence the march back to their fields, fathers, and wigwams, on the
Konzas River.

This return-march must present a most interesting scene in savage
life--seven hundred or eight hundred horses or mules loaded with the
spoils of the chase, and the children of the tribe holding on to the
pack with might and main, naked as eels, and shining with buffalo
grease, their fathers and mothers loafing on foot behind, with their
guns poised on the left arm, or their bows and arrows swung at their
back ready for action, and turning their heads rapidly and anxiously
for lurking enemies--the attack, the screams of women and children,
each man seizing an animal for a breastwork, and surrounding thus their
wives and children, the firing, the dying, the conquest, the whoop of
victory and rejoicings of one party, and the dogged, sullen submission
of the other--all this and more has occurred a thousand times upon {68}
these plains, and is still occurring. But if victory declare for the
Caws, or they march to their home without molestation, how many warm
affections spring up in their untamed bosoms, as they see again their
parents and children, and the ripened harvest, the woods, the streams,
and bubbling springs, among which the gleeful days of childhood were
spent! And when greetings are over, and welcomes are said, embraces
exchanged, and their homes seen and smiled upon; in fine, when all the
holy feelings of remembrance, and their present good fortune, find
vent in the wild night-dance, who, that wears a white skin and ponders
upon the better lot of civilized men, will not believe that the Indian
too, returned from the hunt and from war, has not as much happiness,
if not in kind the same, and as many sentiments that do honour to our
nature, as are wrapped in the stays and tights of a fantastic, mawkish
civilization--that flattering, pluming, gormandizing, unthinking,
gilded life, which is beginning to measure mental and moral worth by
the amount of wealth possessed, and the adornment of a slip or pew in
church.

We travelled eight miles and encamped. {69} A band of buffalo cows
were near us. In other words, we were determined upon a hunt--a
determination the consequences of which, as will hereafter appear were
highly disastrous. Our tent having been pitched, and baggage piled up,
the fleetest horses selected, and the best marksmen best mounted, we
trotted slowly along a circling depression of the plain, that wound
around near the herd on the leeward side. When we emerged in sight of
them, we put the horses into a slow gallop till within three hundred
yards of our game; and then for the nimblest heel! Each was at his
utmost speed. We all gained upon the herd. But two of the horses were
by the side of the lubbers before the rest were within rifle-reach;
and the rifles and pistols of their riders discharged into the sleek,
well-larded body of a noble bull. The wounded animal did not drop; the
balls had entered neither liver nor heart; and away he ran for his
life. But his unwieldy form moved slower and slower, as the dripping
blood oozed from the bullet-holes in his loins. He ran towards our
tent; and we followed him in that direction, till within a fourth
of a mile of it, when our heroes of the rifle laid him wallowing in
his blood, a mountain of flesh {70} weighing at least three thousand
pounds. We butchered him in the following manner: Having turned him
upon his brisket, split the skin above the spine, and pared it off as
far down the sides as his position would allow, we cut off the flesh
that lay outside the ribs as far back as the loins. This the hunters
call "the fleece." We next took the ribs that rise perpendicularly from
the spine between the shoulders, and support what is termed the "hump."
Then we laid our heavy wood-axes upon the enormous side-ribs, opened a
cavity, and took out the tender-loins, tallow, &c.,--all this a load
for two mules to carry into camp.

It was prepared for packing as follows: the fleece was cut across the
grain into slices an eighth of an inch in thickness, and spread upon
a scaffolding of poles, and dried and smoked over a slow fire. While
we were engaged in this process, information came that three of Mr.
Bent's mules had escaped. The probability was that they had gone to the
guardianship of our neighbours, the Caws. This was a misfortune to our
honourable intention of restoring them to their lawful owners. Search
was immediately ordered in the Indian camp and elsewhere for them. It
was {71} fruitless. The men returned with no very favourable account of
their reception by the Caws, and were of opinion that farther search
would be in vain. Being disposed to try my influence with the principal
chief, I gave orders to raise the camp and follow the Santa Féans,
without reference to my return, and mounting my horse, in company with
three men, sought his lodge. The wigwams were deserted, save by a few
old women and squalid children, who were wallowing in dirt and grease,
and regaling themselves upon the roasted intestines of the buffalo. I
inquired for the chiefs, for the mules, whether they themselves were
human or bestial; for, on this point, there was room for doubt: to all
which inquiries, they gave an appropriate grunt. But no chief or other
person could be found, on whom any responsibility could be thrown in
regard to the lost mules. And after climbing the heights to view the
plains, and riding from band to band of His Darkness's quadrupeds for
three hours in vain, we returned to our camp sufficiently vexed for all
purposes of comfort.

Yet this was only the beginning of the misfortunes of the day. During
my absence, one of those petty bickerings, so common {72} among men
released from the restraints of society and law, had arisen between two
of the most quarrelsome of the company, terminating in the accidental
wounding of one of them. It occurred, as I learned in the following
manner: a dispute arose between the parties as to their relative moral
honesty in some matter, thing, or act in the past. And as this was a
question of great perplexity in their own minds, and doubt in those
of others, words ran high and abusive, till some of the men, more
regardful of their duty than these warriors, began preparations to
strike the tent. The redoubtable combatants were within it; and as
the cords were loosed, and its folds began to swing upon the centre
pole, the younger of the braves, filled with wrath at his opponent,
attempted to show how terrible his ire would be if once let loose among
his muscles. For this purpose, it would seem he seized the muzzle of
his rifle with every demonstration of might, &c., and attempted to
drag it from among the baggage. The hammer of the lock caught, and
sent the contents of the barrel into his side. Every thing was done
for the wounded man that his condition required, and our circumstances
permitted. Doctor Walworth, {73} of the Santa Fé caravan, then eight
miles in advance, returned, examined, and dressed the wound, and
furnished a carriage for the invalid. During the afternoon the high
chief of the Caws also visited us; and by introducing discoloured water
into the upper orifice, and watching its progress through, ascertained
that the ball had not entered the cavity. But notwithstanding that
our anxieties about the life of Smith[45] were much lessened by the
assurances of Dr. Walworth, and our friend the Chief, yet we had
others of no less urgent nature, on which we were called to act. We
were on the hunting-ground of the Caws. They were thieves; and after
the Santa Fé traders should have left the neighbourhood, they would
without scruple use their superior force in appropriating to themselves
our animals, and other means of continuing our journey. The Pawnees,
too, were daily expected. The Cumanches were prowling about the
neighbourhood. To remain, therefore, in our present encampment, until
Smith could travel without pain and danger, was deemed certain death
to all. To travel on in a manner as comfortable to the invalid, as our
{74} condition would permit--painful to him and tedious to us though
it should be--appeared therefore the only means of safety to all, or
any of us. We accordingly covered the bottom of the carriole with grass
and blankets, laid Smith upon them, and with other blankets bolstered
him in such manner that the jolting of the carriage would not roll him.
Other arrangements necessary to raising camp being made, I gave the
company in charge of my lieutenant; and ordering him to lead on after
me as fast as possible, took the reins of the carriage and drove slowly
along the trail of the Santa Féäns.

The trail was continually crossed by deep paths made by the buffalo,
as a thousand generations of them had in single file followed their
leaders from point to point through the plains. These, and other
obstructions, jolted the carriage at every step, and caused the wounded
man to groan pitiably. I drove on till the stars indicated the hour of
midnight; and had hoped by this time to have overtaken the traders,
but was disappointed. In vain I looked through the darkness for the
white embankment of their waggons. The soil over which they had passed
was {75} now so hard, that the man in advance of the carriage could no
longer find the trail; and another storm was crowding its dark pall up
the western sky. The thunder aroused and enraged the buffalo bulls.
They pawed the earth and bellowed, and gathered around the carriage
madly, as if they considered it a huge animal of their own species,
uttering thunder in defiance of them. It became dangerous to move. It
was useless also; for the darkness thickened so rapidly that we could
not keep the track. My men, too, had not come up; they had doubtless
lost the trail--or, if not, might join me if I waited there till the
morning. I therefore halted in a deep ravine, which would partially
protect me from the maddened buffalo and the storm, tied down my
animals head to foot, and sought rest. Smith was in great pain. His
groans were sufficient to prevent sleep. But had he been comfortable
and silent, the storm poured such torrents of rain and hail, with
terrible wind and lightning, around us, that life instead of repose
became the object of our solicitude. The horseman who had accompanied
me, had spread his blankets on the ground under the carriage, and, {76}
with his head upon his saddle, attempted to disregard the tempest as
an old-fashioned stoic would the toothache. But it beat too heavy for
his philosophy. His Mackinaw blankets and slouched hat, for a time
protected his ungainly body from the effects of the tumbling flood.
But when the water began to stream through the bottom of the carriage
upon him, the ire of the animal burst from his lank cheeks like the
coming of a rival tempest. He cursed his stars, and the stars behind
the storm, his garters, and the garters of some female progenitor,
consigned to purgatory the thunder, lightning, and rain, and waggon,
alias poor Smith; and gathering up the shambling timbers of his mortal
frame, raised them bolt upright in the storm, and thus stood, quoted
Shakspeare, and ground his teeth till daylight.

As soon as day dawned I found the trail again, and at seven o'clock
overtook the Santa Féäns. Having changed Smith's bedding, I drove on
in the somewhat beaten track that forty odd waggons made. Still every
small jolt caused the unfortunate man to scream with pain. The face
of the country around Pawnee Fork was, when we saw it, {77} a picture
of beauty. The stream winds silently among bluffs covered with woods,
while from an occasional ravine, long groves stretch out at right
angles with its main course into the bosom of the plains. The thousand
hills that swelled on the horizon, were covered with dark masses of
buffalo peacefully grazing, or quenching their thirst at the sweet
streams among them. But the scene had now changed. No timber, not a
shrub was seen to-day. The soft rich soil had given place to one of
flint and sand, as hard as M'Adam's pavements; the green, tall prairie
grass, to a dry, wiry species, two inches in height. The water, too,
disgusting remembrance! There was none, save what we scooped from the
puddles, thick and yellow with buffalo offal.

We travelled fifteen miles, and halted for the night. Smith was
extremely unwell. His wound was much inflamed and painful. Dr. Walworth
dressed it, and encouraged me to suppose that no danger of life was to
be apprehended. My company joined me at twelve o'clock, on the 22nd,
and we followed in the rear of the cavalcade. After supper was over,
and Smith made comfortable, {78} I sought from some of them a relation
of their fortunes during the past night. It appeared they had found
the buffalo troublesome as soon as night came on; that the bands of
bulls not unfrequently advanced in great numbers within a few feet
of them, pawing and bellowing in the most threatening manner; that
they also lost the trail after midnight, and spent the remainder of
the night in firing upon the buffalo, to keep them from running over
them. Their situation was dangerous in the extreme; for when buffalo
become enraged, or frightened in any considerable number, and commence
running, the whole herd start simultaneously, and pursue nearly a
right-line course, regardless of obstacles. So that, had they been
frightened by the Santa Féäns, or myself, or any other cause, in the
direction of my companions, they must have trampled them to death. The
danger to be apprehended from such an event, was rendered certain in
the morning, when we perceived that the whole circle of vision was one
black mass of these animals. What a sea of life--of muscular power--of
animal appetite--of bestial enjoyment! And if lashed to rage by some
pervading cause, how fearful {79} the ebbing and flowing of its mighty
wrath!

On the 23rd the buffalo were more numerous than ever. They were
arranged in long lines from the eastern to the western horizon. The
bulls were forty or fifty yards in advance of the bands of cows to
which they severally intended to give protection. And as the moving
embankment of waggons, led by the advanced guard, and flanked by
horsemen riding slowly from front to rear, and guarded in the rear by
my men, made its majestic way along, these fiery cavaliers would march
each to his own band of dames and misses, with an air that seemed to
say "we are here;" and then back again to their lines, with great
apparent satisfaction, that they were able to do battle for their sweet
ones and their native plains. We travelled fifteen or sixteen miles;
distance usually made in a day by the traders. Smith's wound was more
inflamed and painful; the wash and salve of the Indian chief, however,
kept it soft, and prevented to a great extent the natural inflammation
of the case.

The face of the country was still an arid plain--the water as on the
22nd--fuel, dried {80} buffalo offal--not a shrub of any kind in sight.
Another storm occurred to-night. Its movements were more rapid than
that of any preceding one which we had experienced. In a few moments
after it showed its dark outline above the earth, it rolled its pall
over the whole sky, as if to build a wall of wrath between us and the
mercies of heaven. The flash of the lightning, as it bounded upon the
firmament, and mingled its thunder with the blast, that came groaning
down from the mountains; the masses of inky darkness crowding in wild
tumult along, as if anxious to lead the leaping bolt upon us--the wild
world of buffalo, bellowing and starting in myriads, as the drapery of
this funeral scene of nature, a vast cavern of fire was lighted up; the
rain roaring and foaming like a cataract--all this, a reeling world
tottering under the great arm of its Maker, no eye could see and be
unblenched; no mind conceive, and keep its clayey tenement erect.

I drew the carriole in which Smith and myself were attempting to sleep,
close to the Santa Fé waggons, secured the curtains as firmly as I was
able to do, spread blankets over the top and around the sides, and
{81} lashed them firmly with ropes passing over, under, and around the
carriage in every direction; but to little use. The penetrating powers
of that storm were not resisted by such means. Again we were thoroughly
drenched. The men in the tent fared still worse than ourselves. It was
blown down with the first blast; and the poor fellows were obliged to
lie closely and hold on strongly to prevent it and themselves from a
flight less safe than parachuting.

On the morning of the 24th, having given Smith in charge of my
excellent Lieutenant, with assurance that I would join him at the
"Crossings," I left them with the traders, and started with the
remainder of my company for the Arkansas.

The buffalo during the last three days had covered the whole country so
completely, that it appeared oftentimes extremely dangerous even for
the immense cavalcade of the Santa Fé traders to attempt to break its
way through them. We travelled at the rate of fifteen miles a day. The
length of sight on either side of the trail, 15 miles; on both sides,
30 miles:--15×3=45×30=1,350 square miles of {82} country, so thickly
covered with these noble animals, that when viewed from a height, it
scarcely afforded a sight of a square league of its surface. What a
quantity of food for the sustenance of the Indian and the white pilgrim
of these plains! It would have been gratifying to have seen the beam
kick over the immense frames of some of those bulls. But all that any
of us could do, was to 'guess' or 'reckon' their weight, and contend
about the indubitable certainty of our several suppositions. In these
disputes, two butchers took the lead; and the substance of their
discussions that could interest the reader is, "that many of the large
bulls would weigh 3,000 pounds and upwards; and that, as a general
rule, the buffalo were much larger and heavier than the domesticated
cattle of the States." We were in view of the Arkansas at four o'clock,
P. M. The face of the earth was visible again; for the buffalo were
now seen in small herds only, fording the river, or feeding upon the
bluffs. Near nightfall we killed a young bull, and went into camp for
the night.

On the 25th we moved slowly along up the bank of the river. Having
travelled {83} ten miles, one of the men shot an antelope, and we went
into camp, to avoid if possible another storm that was lowering upon
us from the north-west; but in spite of this precaution, we were again
most uncomfortably drenched.

On the 26th we struck across a southern bend in the river, and
made the Santa Fé "Crossings" at four o'clock, P. M.; 27th. we lay
at the "Crossings," waiting for the Santa Féäns, and our wounded
companion.[46] On this day a mutiny, which had been ripening ever
since Smith was wounded, assumed a clear aspect. It now appeared that
certain individuals of my company had determined to leave Smith to
perish in the encampment where he was shot; but failing in supporters
of so barbarous a proposition, they now endeavoured to accomplish
their design by less objectionable means. They said it was evident, if
Smith remained in the company, it must be divided; for that they, pure
creatures, could no longer associate with so impure a man. And that,
in order to preserve the unity of the company, they would propose that
arrangements should be made with the Santa Féäns to take him along
with them. {84} In this wish a majority of the company, induced by a
laudable desire for peace, and the preservation of our small force
entire, in a country filled with Indian foes, readily united. I was
desired to make the arrangement; but my efforts proved fruitless. The
traders were of the opinion that it would be hazardous for Smith,
destitute of the means of support, to trust himself among a people of
whose language he was ignorant, and among whom he could consequently
get no employment; farther, that Smith had a right to expect protection
from his comrades; and they would not, by any act of theirs, relieve
them from so sacred a duty. I reported to my company this reply, and
dwelt at length upon the reasons assigned by the traders.

The mutineers were highly displeased with the strong condemnation
contained in them, of their intention to desert him; and boldly
proposed to leave Smith in the carriole, and secretly depart for the
mountains. Had we done this inhuman act, I have no doubt that he would
have been treated with great humanity and kindness, till he should have
recovered from his wound. But the meanness of the proposition to leave
a sick companion {85} on the hands of those who had shown us unbounded
kindness, and in violation of the solemn agreement we had all entered
into on the frontier of Missouri--"to protect each other to the last
extremity"--was so manifest, as to cause C. Wood, Jourdan, Oakley,
J. Wood, and Blair, to take open and strong grounds against it. They
declared, that "however unworthy Smith might be, we could neither leave
him to be eaten by wolves, nor to the mercy of strangers; and that
neither should be done while they had life to prevent it."

Having thus ascertained that I could rely upon the cooperation of
these men, two of the company made a litter, on which the unfortunate
man might be borne between two mules. In the afternoon of the 28th, I
went down to the traders, five miles below us, to bring him up to my
camp. The traders generously refused to receive anything for the use
of their carriage, and furnished Smith, when he left them, with every
little comfort in their power for his future use. It was past sunset
when we left their camp. Deep darkness soon set in, and we lost our
course among the winding bluffs. {86} But as I had reason to suppose
that my presence in the camp the next morning with Smith was necessary
to his welfare, I drove on till three o'clock in the morning. It was
of no avail: the darkness hid heaven and earth from view. We therefore
halted, tied the mules to the wheels of the carriage, and waited for
the sight of morning. When it came, we found that we had travelled
during the night at one time up and at another time down the stream,
and were then within a mile and a half of the trader's camp.

On reaching my encampment, I found every thing ready for marching,
sent back the carriole to its owners, and attempted to swing Smith in
his litter for the march; but to our great disappointment, it would
not answer the purpose. How it was possible to convey him, appeared
an inquiry of the most painful importance. We deliberated long; but
an impossibility barred every attempt to remove its difficulties. We
had no carriage; we could not carry him upon our shoulders; it seemed
impossible for him to ride on horseback; the mutineers were mounted;
the company was afraid to stay longer in the vicinity of the Cumanche
Indians, {87} with so many animals to tempt them to take our lives; the
Santa Fé waggons were moving over the hills ten miles away on the other
side of the river; I had adjured the command, and had no control over
the movements of the company; two of the individuals who had declared
for mercy towards Smith had gone with the traders;[47] there was but
one course left--one effort that could be made; he must attempt to ride
an easy, gentle mule. If that failed, those who had befriended him
would not then forsake him.

About eleven o'clock, therefore, on the 29th, Smith being carefully
mounted on a pacing mule, our faces were turned to Bent's trading post,
one hundred and sixty miles up the Arkansas. One of the principal
mutineers, a hard-faced villain of no honest memory among the traders
upon the Platte, assumed to guide and command. His malice towards Smith
was of the bitterest character, and he had an opportunity now of making
it felt. With a grin upon his long and withered physiognomy, that
shadowed out the fiendish delight of a heart long incapable of better
emotions, he drove off at a rate which none but a man in health could
have long endured. His motive {88} for this was easily understood. If
we fell behind, he would get rid of the wounded man, whose presence
seemed to be a living evidence of his murderous intentions, thwarted
and cast back blistering upon his already sufficiently foul character.
He would, also, if rid of those persons who had devoted themselves to
saving him, be able to induce a large number of the remainder of the
company to put themselves under his especial guardianship in their
journey through the mountains; and if we should be destroyed by the
Cumanche Indians who were prowling around our way, the blackness of his
heart might be hidden, awhile at least, from the world.

The rapid riding, and the extreme warmth, well-nigh prostrated the
remaining strength of the invalid. He fainted once, and had nearly
fallen headlong to the ground; but all this was delight to the
self-constituted leader; and on he drove, belabouring his own horse
unmercifully to keep up the pace; and quoting Richard's soliloquy with
a satisfaction and emphasis, which seemed to say "the winter" of _his_
discontent had passed away, as well as that of his ancient prototype in
villany.

{89} The buffalo were seldom seen during the day: the herds now
becoming fewer and smaller. Some of the men, when it was near night,
gave chase to a small band near the track, and succeeded in killing a
young bull. A fine fresh steak, and night's rest, cheered the invalid
for the fatigues of a long ride the following day. And a long one it
was. Twenty-five miles under a burning sun, with a high fever, and
three broken ribs, required the greatest attention from his friends,
and the exertion of the utmost remaining energies of the unfortunate
man. Base though he was in everything that makes a man estimable and
valuable to himself and others, Smith was really an object of pity and
the most assiduous care. His couch was spread--his cup of water fresh
from the stream, was always by his side--and his food prepared in the
most palatable manner which our circumstances permitted. Everything
indeed that his friends (no, not his friends, for he was incapacitated
to attach either the good or the bad to his person, but those who
commiserated his condition), could do, was done to make him comfortable.

In connexion with this kindness bestowed {90} on Smith, should be
repeated the name of Blair, an old mechanic from Missouri, who joined
my company at the Crossings of the Arkansas. A man of a kinder heart
never existed. From the place where he joined us to Oregon Territory,
when I or others were worn with fatigue, or disease, or starvation, he
was always ready to administer whatever relief was in his power. But
towards Smith in his helpless condition he was especially obliging. He
dressed his wound daily. He slept near him at night, and rose to supply
his least want. And in all the trying difficulties that occurred along
our perilous journey, it was his greatest delight to diffuse peace,
comfort, and contentment, to the extent of his influence. I can never
forget the good old man. He had been cheated out of his property by a
near relative of pretended piety, and had left the chosen scenes of
his toils and hopes in search of a residence in the wilderness beyond
the mountains. For the purpose of getting to the Oregon Territory,
he had hired himself to a gentleman of the traders' caravan, with
the intention of going to the country by the way of New Mexico and
California. An honest man--an honourable {91} man--a benevolent, kind,
sympathizing friend--he deserves well of those who may have the good
fortune to become acquainted with his unpretending worth.[48]

On the 30th, twenty-five miles up the river.--This morning the
miscreant who acted as leader exchanged horses, that he might render it
more difficult for Smith to keep in company. During the entire day's
march, Shakspeare was on the tapis. If there be ears of him about the
ugly world, to hear his name bandied by boobies, and his immortal verse
mangled by barbarians in civilized clothing, those ears stood erect,
and his dust crawled with indignation, as this savage in nature and
practice discharged from his polluted mouth the inspirations of his
genius.

The face of the country was such as that found ever since we struck
the river. Long sweeping bluffs swelled away from the water's edge
into the boundless plains. The soil was a composition of sand, clay,
and gravel--the only vegetation--the short furzy grass, several kinds
of prickly pear, a stinted growth of sun-flower, and a few decrepid
cotton-wood trees on the margin of the stream. The south side of the
river {92} was blackened by the noisy buffalo. It was amusing when our
trail led us near the bank, to observe the rising wrath of the bulls.
They would walk with a stately tread upon the verge of the bank, at
times almost yelling out their rage, and trampling, pawing, falling
upon their knees, and tearing the earth with their horns; till, as if
unable to keep down the safety-valve of their courage any longer, they
would tumble into the stream, and thunder, and wade, and swim, and whip
the waters with their tails, and thus throw off a quantity of their
bravery. But, like the wrath and courage of certain members of the
biped race, these manifestations were not bullet proof, for the crack
of a rifle, and the snug fit of a bullet about their ribs operated
instantaneously as an anodyne to all such like nervous excitation.

We pitched our tent at night near the river. There was no timber near;
but after a long and tedious search we gathered fire-wood enough to
make our evening fire.

The fast riding of the day had wearied Smith exceedingly. An hour's
rest in camp however, had restored him, to such an extent, {93} that
our anxiety as to his ability to ride to Bent's was much diminished.
His noble mule proved too nimble and easy to gratify the malice of the
vagabond leader. The night brought us its usual tribute--a storm. It
was as severe as any we had experienced. If we may distinguish between
the severities of these awful tumults of nature, the thunder was
heavier, deeper. The wind also was very severe. It came in long gusts,
loaded with large drops of rain, which struck through the canvas of our
tent, as if it had been gauze.

The last day of June gave us a lovely morning. The grass looked green
upon the flinty plains. Nor did the apparent fact that they were
doomed to the constant recurrence of long draughts take from them some
of the interest which gathers around the hills and dales within the
lines of the States. There is indeed a wide difference in the outline
of the surface and the productions of these regions. In the plains
are none of the evergreen ridges, the cold clear springs, and snug
flowering valleys of New England; none of the pulse of busy men that
beats from the Atlantic through the great body of human industry to
the western border of the {94} republic; none of the sweet villages
and homes of the old Saxon race; but there are the vast savannahs,
resembling molten seas of emerald sparkling with flowers, arrested
while stormy and heaving, and fixed in eternal repose. Nor are lowing
herds to be found there, and bleating flocks, which dependance on man
has rendered subservient to his will; but there are thousands of fleet
and silent antelope, myriads of the bellowing buffalo, the perpetual
patrimony of the wild, uncultivated red man. And however other races
may prefer the haunts of their childhood, the well-fenced domain and
the stall-pampered beast--still, even they cannot fail to perceive the
same fitness of things in the beautiful adaptation of these conditions
of nature to the wants and pleasures of her uncultivated lords.

We made fifteen miles on the 1st of July. The bluffs along the river
began now to be striped with strata of lime and sand-stone. No trees
that could claim the denomination of timber appeared in sight. Willows
of various kinds, a cotton-wood tree, at intervals of miles, were all;
and so utterly sterile was the whole country that, as night approached,
we were obliged carefully to search along {95} the river's bends for a
plat of grass of sufficient size to feed our animals. Our encampment
was twelve miles above Choteau's Island.[49] Here was repeated, for
the twentieth time, the quarrel about the relative and moral merits
of the company. This was always a question of deep interest with the
mutineers; and many were the amusing arguments adduced and insisted
upon as incontestible, to prove themselves great men, pure men, and
saints. But as there was much difference of opinion, I shall not be
expected to remember all the important judgments rendered in the
premises.

If, however, my recollection serves me, it was adjudged, that our
distinguished leader was the only man among us that ever saw the
plains or mountains, the only one of us that ever drove an ox-waggon
up the Platte, stole a horse and rifle from his employers, opened
and plundered a "cache" of goods, and ran back to the States with
well-founded pretensions to an "honest character."

Matters of this kind being thus satisfactorily settled, we gave
ourselves to the musquitoes for the night. These companions of our
sleeping hours were much attached to us--an amiable quality which {96}
"runs in the blood;" and not unlike the birthright virtues of another
race in its effect upon our happiness.

It can scarcely be imparting information to my readers to say that
we passed a sleepless night. But it is due to the guards outside the
tent, to remark, that each and every one of them manifested the most
praiseworthy vigilance, and industry, during the entire night. So keen
a sense of duty did musquito beaks impart.

The next day we travelled twelve miles, and fell in with a band of
buffalo. There being a quantity of wood near at hand wherewithal to
cure meat, we determined to dry, in this place, what might be needed,
till we should fall in with buffalo again beyond the hunting-grounds of
the Messrs. Bents. Some of the men, for this purpose, filed off to the
game, while the remainder formed the encampment. The chase was spirited
and long. They succeeded, however, in bringing down two noble bullocks:
and led their horses in, loaded with the choicest meat.

In preparing and jerking our meat, our man of the stolen rifle here
assumed extraordinary powers in the management of {97} affairs. Like
other braves, arm in hand, he recounted the exploits of his past life,
consisting of the entertainment of serious _intentions_ to have killed
some of the men who had left, had they remained with us; and also,
of _how dangerous his wrath would have been_ in the settlements and
elsewhere, had any indignity been offered to his honourable person,
or his plantation; of which latter he held the fee simple title of a
"squatter." On this point, "let any man, or Government even," said he,
"attempt to deprive me of my inborn rights, and my rifle shall be the
judge between us. Government and laws! what are they but impositions
upon the freeman." With this ebullition of wrath at the possibility
that the institutions of society might demand of him a rifle, or the
Government a price of a portion of the public lands in his possession,
he appeared satisfied that he had convinced us of his moral acumen, and
sat himself down, with his well-fed and corpulent coadjutor, to slice
the meat for drying. While thus engaged, he again raised the voice of
wisdom. "These democratic parties for the plains, what are they? what
is equality any where? A fudge. One must {98} rule; the rest obey, and
no grumbling, by G----!"

The mutineers were vastly edified by these timely instructions; and
the man of parts ceasing to speak, directed his attention to drying
the meat. He, however, soon broke forth again, found fault with every
arrangement which had been made, and with his own mighty arm wrought
the changes he desired.

Meanwhile, he was rousing the fire, already burning fiercely, to more
and more activity, till the dropping grease blazed, and our scaffold of
meat was wrapped in flames.

"Take that meat off," roared he. No one obeyed, and he stood still.
"Take that meat off," he cried again, with the emphasis and mien of
an Emperor; not deigning himself to soil his rags, by obeying his own
command. No one obeyed. The meat burned rapidly. His ire waxed high;
yet, no one was so much frightened as to heed his command. At length
his sublime forbearance had an end. The great man seized the blazing
meat, dashed it upon the ground, raised the temperature of his fingers
to the blistering point, and rested from his labours.

{99} Three days more fatiguing travel along the bank of the Arkansas
brought us to the trading-post of the Messrs. Bents. It was about two
o'clock in the afternoon of the 5th of July, when we came in sight
of its noble battlements, and struck our caravan into a lively pace
down the swell of the neighbouring plain. The stray mules that we had
in charge belonging to the Bents, scented their old grazing ground,
and galloped cheerfully onward. And our hearts, relieved from the
anxieties which had made our camp for weeks past a travelling Babel,
leaped for joy as the gates of the fort were thrown open; and "welcome
to Fort William"--the hearty welcome of fellow-countrymen in the wild
wilderness, greeted us. Peace again--roofs again--safety again from the
winged arrows of the savage; relief again from the depraved suggestions
of inhumanity; bread, ah! bread again: and a prospect of a delightful
tramp over the snowy heights between me and Oregon, with a few men of
true and generous spirit, were some of the many sources of pleasure
which struggled with my slumbers on the first night's tarry among the
hospitalities of "Fort William."[50]

{100} My company was to disband here; the property held in common to
be divided; and each individual to be left to his own resources. And
while these and other things are being done, the reader will allow me
to introduce him to the Great Prairie Wilderness, and the beings and
matters therein contained.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] Turkey Creek, for which see our volume xix, p. 205, note 44.--ED.

[39] Silas Bent of St. Louis (1768-1827), judge of the superior court
of the territory and prominent at the bar, had seven sons. The third,
John (1803-45), remained in St. Louis, was admitted to the bar, and
held the office of district attorney. The others went out upon the
frontier. In 1826 William W., Charles, Robert, and George formed a
partnership with Ceran St. Vrain and built a picket fort high up on
the Arkansas. The following year they removed somewhat farther east,
and built an adobe. William W. Bent was the chief founder of the
enterprise. A daring Indian fighter, tradition describes his defeat of
two hundred savages after a three days' battle. He married a Cheyenne
woman, and made his home at Bent's Fort. In 1847-48 he acted as guide
for the American army against New Mexico, whence his title of colonel.
For one year (1859) he served as Indian agent, and died at his home in
Colorado, May 19, 1869. Robert and George both died young, about the
year 1841. They were buried near the fort, their remains afterwards
being removed to St. Louis. For Charles Bent, who made his home at
Taos, see our volume xix, p. 221, note 55.--ED.

[40] Concerning the crossing of the Little Arkansas, consult our volume
xix, p. 207, note 45.--ED.

[41] The trail reached the Arkansas in the neighborhood of the northern
reach of the Great Bend; but Farnham's party must have wandered from
the regular route, in order to employ three days and a half from
the crossing of the Little Arkansas--a distance of not more than
thirty-five miles.--ED.

[42] Either Walnut or Ash Creek, the only two tributaries before
reaching Pawnee Fork. Farnham seems, however, to have written from
memory, and possibly confuses this stream with Turkey Creek, an
affluent of the Little Arkansas. See _ante_, p. 70, note 34.--ED.

[43] For Manuel Alvarez see our volume xx, p. 26, note 5.--ED.

[44] For Pawnee Fork see our volume xvi, p. 227, note 105.--ED.

[45] Sidney W. Smith, who afterwards reached Oregon in a destitute
condition, was cared for at Dr. Whitman's mission, and went on to the
Willamette where he settled with Ewing Young. He acquired considerable
property, and was influential in the establishment of the provisional
government, serving as its secretary, as captain of militia, and on
the first provisional committee. He acquired the name of "Blubbermouth
Smith" among the early pioneers, but became a man of sterling ability
and founder of a prominent Oregon family.--ED.

[46] For the Crossings see our volume xix, p. 218, note 54. The trading
caravans proceeded by the Cimarron route, while Farnham's party took
the mountain trail.--ED.

[47] From the later narrative it is apparent that these were Chauncey
Wood and Quinn Jordan.--ED.

[48] W. Blair was a millwright, and upon reaching Oregon found
employment in Spaulding's mill at the Lapwai mission. Afterwards he
went to the Willamette, and finally emigrated to California, where he
died.--ED.

[49] For Chouteau's Island see our volume xix, p. 185, note 26.--ED.

[50] For a brief history of this post see our volume xx, p. 138, note
92; see also _post_, chapter iv. A cut of the fort may be seen in J.
T. Hughes, _Doniphan's Expedition_ (Cincinnati, 1847), p. 35. Frémont
visited there in 1844 and speaks of the hospitable treatment accorded
him. In the palmy days of the fur-trade the Bents employed from eighty
to a hundred men who made their headquarters at this post.--ED.

  The Great Prairie Wilderness--Its
    Rivers and Soil--Its People and their
    Territories--Choctaws--Chickasaws--Cherokees--Creeks--Senecas
    and
    Shawnees--Seminoles--Pottawatamies--Weas--Pionkashas--Peorias
    and Kaskaskias--Ottowas--Shawnees or
    Shawanoes--Delawares--Kausaus--Kickapoos--Sauks
    and Foxes--Iowas--Otoes--Omehas--Puncahs--Pawnees,
    remnants--Carankauas--Cumanche,
    remnants--Knistineaux--Naudowisses or Sioux--Chippeways, and
    their traditions.

The tract of country to which I have thought it fitting to apply the
name of the "Great Prairie Wilderness," embraces the territory lying
between the States of Louisiana, Arkansas, and Missouri, and the Upper
Mississippi on the east, and the Black Hills, and the eastern range of
the Rocky and the Cordilleras mountains on the west. One thousand miles
of longitude, and two thousand miles of latitude, 2,000,000 square
miles, equal to 1,280,000,000 acres of an almost unbroken plain! The
sublime Prairie Wilderness!

The portion of this vast region, two {102} hundred miles in width,
along the coast of Texas and the frontier of the States of Louisiana,
Arkansas, and Missouri, and that lying within the same distance of
the Upper Mississippi in the Iowa Territory, possess a rich, deep,
alluvial soil, capable of producing the most abundant crops of grains,
vegetables, &c., that grow in such latitudes.

Another portion lying west of the irregular western line of that just
described, five hundred miles in width, extending from the mouth of
St. Peter's River to the Rio del Norte, is an almost unbroken plain,
destitute of trees, except here and there one scattered at intervals
for many miles along the banks of the streams. The soil, except the
intervals of some of the rivers, is composed of coarse sand and clay,
so thin and hard that it is difficult for travellers to penetrate
it with the stakes they carry with them wherewithal to fasten their
animals or spread their tents. Nevertheless it is covered thickly with
an extremely nutritious grass peculiar to this region of country, the
blades of which are wiry and about two inches in height.

The remainder of this Great Wilderness, lying three hundred miles in
width along {103} the eastern radices of the Black Hills and that part
of the Rocky Mountains between the Platte and the Cordilleras-range
east of the Rio del Norte, is the arid waste usually called the "Great
American Desert."[51] Its soil is composed of dark gravel mixed with
the sand. Some small portions of it, on the banks of the streams, are
covered with tall prairie and bunch grass; others, with wild wormwood;
but even these kinds of vegetation decrease and finally disappear
as you approach the mountains. It is a scene of desolation scarcely
equalled on the continent, when viewed in the dearth of midsummer from
the base of the hills. Above, rise in sublime confusion, mass upon
mass, shattered cliffs through which is struggling the dark foliage of
stinted shrub-cedars; while below you spreads far and wide the burnt
and arid desert, whose solemn silence is seldom broken by the tread of
any other animal than the wolf or the starved and thirsty horse which
bears the traveller across its wastes.

The principal streams that intersect the Great Prairie wilderness are
the Colorado, the Brazos, Trinity, Red, Arkansas, Great Platte and the
Missouri. The latter is in many respects a noble stream; not so {104}
much so indeed for the intercourse it opens between the States and
the plains, as the theatre of agriculture and the other pursuits of a
densely populated and distant interior; for these plains are too barren
for general cultivation. As a channel for the transportation of heavy
artillery, military stores, troops, &c. to posts that must ultimately
be established along our northern frontier, it will be of the highest
use.

In the months of April, May, and June it is navigable for steamboats
to the Great Falls; but the scarcity of water during the remainder of
the year, as well as the scarcity of wood and coal along its banks, its
steadily rapid current, its tortuous course, its falling banks, timber
imbedded in the mud of its channel, and its constantly shifting sand
bars, will ever prevent its waters from being extensively navigated,
how great soever may be the demand for it. In that part of it which
lies above the mouth of the Little Missouri and the tributaries flowing
into it on either side, are said to be many charming and productive
valleys, separated from each other by secondary rocky ridges sparsely
covered with evergreen trees; and high over all, far in south-west,
west and north-west, tower into {105} view, the ridges of the Rocky
Mountains, whose inexhaustible magazines of ice and snow have, from
age to age, supplied these valleys with refreshing springs--and the
Missouri--the Great Platte--the Columbia--and Western Colorado rivers
with their tribute to the seas.

Lewis and Clark, on their way to Oregon in 1805, made the Portage at
the Great Falls eighteen miles. In this distance the water descends
three hundred and sixty-two feet. The first great pitch is ninety-eight
feet, the second nineteen, the third forty-eight, and the fourth
twenty-six. Smaller rapids make up the remainder of the descent. After
passing over the Portage with their boats and baggage, they again
entrusted themselves to the turbulent stream--entered the chasms of the
Rocky Mountains seventy-one miles above the upper rapids of the Falls,
penetrated them one hundred and eighty miles, with the mere force of
their oars against the current, to Gallatin, Madison and Jefferson's
Forks--and in the same manner ascended Jefferson's River two hundred
and forty-eight miles to the extreme head of navigation, making from
the mouth of the Missouri, whence they started, three thousand and
ninety-six {106} miles; four hundred and twenty-nine of which lay among
the sublime crags and cliffs of the mountains.[52]

The Great Platte has a course by its northern fork of about one
thousand five hundred miles; and by its southern fork somewhat more
than that distance; from its entrance into the Missouri to the junction
of these forks about four hundred miles. The north fork rises in Wind
River Mountain, north of the Great Pass through Long's range of the
Rocky Mountains, in latitude 42° north.[53] The south fork rises one
hundred miles west of James Peak, and within fifteen miles of the
point where the Arkansas escapes from the chasms of the mountains, in
latitude 39° north.[54] This river is not navigable for steamboats
at any season of the year. In the spring floods, the batteaux of the
American fur traders descend it from the forts on its forks. But even
this is so hazardous that they are beginning to prefer taking down
their furs in waggons by the way of the Kansas River to Westport,
Missouri, thence by steamboat to St. Louis. During the summer and
autumn months its waters are too shallow to float a canoe. In the
winter it is bound in ice. Useless as it is for {107} purposes of
navigation, it is destined to be of great value in another respect.

The overland travel from the States to Oregon and California will
find its great highway along its banks. So that in years to come,
when the Federal Government shall take possession of its Territory
West of the Mountains, the banks of this stream will be studded with
fortified posts for the protection of countless caravans of American
citizens emigrating thither to establish their abode; or of those that
are willing to endure or destroy the petty tyranny of the Californian
Government, for a residence in that most beautiful, productive country.
Even now, loaded waggons can pass without serious interruption from
the mouth of the Platte to navigable waters on the Columbia River in
Oregon, and the Bay of San Francisco, in California.[55]

As it may interest my readers to peruse a description of these routes
given me by different individuals who had often travelled them, I will
insert it: "Land on the north side of the mouth of the Platte; follow
up that stream to the Forks, four hundred miles; in this distance only
one stream where a raft will be needed, and that near the Missouri;
all the rest fordable. At the Forks, take the north side of {108} the
North one; fourteen days' travel to the Black Hills; thence leaving the
river's bank, strike off in a North-West direction to the Sweetwater
branch, at "Independence Rock," (a large rock in the plain on which the
old trappers many years ago carved the word "Independence" and their
own names; oval in form;) follow up the sweet-water three days; cross
it and go to its head; eight or ten days travel this; then cross over
westward to the head waters of a small creek running southwardly into
the Platte, thence westward to Big Sandy creek two days, (this creek
is a large stream coming from Wind river Mountains in the North;)
thence one day to Little Sandy creek--thence westward over three or
four creeks to Green River, (Indian name Sheetskadee,) strike it at the
mouth of Horse creek--follow it down three days to Pilot Bute; thence
strike westward one day to Ham's Fork of Green River--two days up Ham's
Fork--thence West one day to Muddy Branch of Great Bear River--down it
one day to Great Bear River--down this four days to Soda Springs; turn
to the right up a valley a quarter of a mile below the Soda Springs;
follow it up a north west direction two days to its head; there take
the left hand valley leading over the dividing {109} ridge; one day
over to the waters of Snake River at Fort Hall;[56] thence down Snake
River twenty days to the junction of the Lewis and Clark Rivers--or
twenty days travel westwardly by the Mary's River--thence through a
natural and easy passage in the California Mountains to the navigable
waters of the San Joaquin--a noble stream emptying into the Bay of San
Francisco."[57]

The Platte therefore when considered in relation to our intercourse
with the habitable countries on the Western Ocean assumes an unequal
importance among the streams of the Great Prairie Wilderness! But
for it, it would be impossible for man or beast to travel those arid
plains, destitute alike, of wood, water and grass, save what of each is
found along its course. Upon the head waters of its North Fork, too,
is the only way or opening in the Rocky mountains at all practicable
for a carriage road through them. That traversed by Lewis and Clark,
is covered with perpetual snow; that near the debouchure of the South
Fork of the river is over high and nearly impassable precipices; that
travelled by myself farther south, is, and ever will be impassable
for wheel carriages. But the Great Gap, nearly {110} on a right line
between the mouth of Missouri and Fort Hall on Clark's River--the point
where the trails to California and Oregon diverge--seems designed by
nature as the great gateway between the nations on the Atlantic and
Pacific seas.[58]

The Red River has a course of about one thousand five hundred miles.
It derives its name from a reddish colour of its water, produced by a
rich red earth or marl in its banks, far up in the Prairie Wilderness.
So abundantly is this mingled with its waters during the spring
freshets, that as the floods retire, they leave upon the lands they
have overflowed a deposit of half an inch in thickness. Three hundred
miles from its mouth commences what is called "The Raft," a covering
formed by drift-wood, which conceals the whole river for an extent
of about forty miles. And so deeply is this immense bridge covered
with the sediment of the stream, that all kinds of vegetable common
in its neighbourhood, even trees of a considerable size, are growing
upon it. The annual inundations are said to be cutting a new channel
near the hill. Steamboats ascend the river to the Raft, and might go
fifty leagues above, if that obstruction were removed.[59] Above this
latter point {111} the river is said to be embarrassed by many rapids,
shallows, falls, and sand-bars. Indeed, for seven hundred miles its
broad bed is represented to be an extensive and perfect sand-bar; or
rather a series of sand-bars; among which during the summer months,
the water stands in ponds. As you approach the mountains, however, it
becomes contracted within narrow limits over a gravelly bottom, and a
swift, clear, and abundant stream. The waters of the Red River are so
brackish when low, as to be unfit for common use.

The Trinity River, the Brazos, and the Rio Colorado, have each a course
of about twelve hundred miles, rising in the plains and mountains on
the north and north-west side of Texas, and running south south-east
into the Gulf of Mexico.

The Rio Bravo del Norte[60] bounds the Great Prairie Wilderness on the
south and south-west. It is one thousand six hundred and fifty miles
long. The extent of its navigation is little known. Lieutenant Pike
remarks in regard to it, that "for the extent of four or five hundred
miles before you arrive near the mountains, the bed of the river is
extensive and a perfect sand-bar, which at a certain season is dry,
at least the waters stand {112} in ponds, not affording sufficient to
procure a running course. When you come nearer the mountains, you find
the river contracted, a gravelly bottom and a deep navigable stream.
From these circumstances it is evident that the sandy soil imbibes all
the waters which the sources project from the mountains, and render
the river in dry seasons _less navigable five hundred miles_, than two
hundred from its source." Perhaps we should understand the Lieutenant
to mean that five hundred miles of sand bar and two hundred miles
immediately below its source being taken from its whole course, the
remainder, nine hundred and fifty miles, would be the length of its
navigable waters.[61]

The Arkansas, after the Missouri, is the most considerable river of
the country under consideration. It takes its rise in that cluster
of secondary mountains which lie at the eastern base of the Anahuac
Ridge, in latitude 41° north--eighty or ninety miles north-west of
James Peak. It runs about two hundred miles--first in a southerly
and then in a south-easterly direction among these mountains; at one
time along the most charming valleys and at another through the most
awful chasms--till it rushes from them with a foaming {113} current in
latitude 39° north. From the place of its debouchure to its entrance
into the Mississippi is a distance of 1981 miles; its total length 2173
miles. About fifty miles below a tributary of this stream, called the
Grand Saline,[62] a series of sand-bars commence and run down the river
several hundred miles. Among them, during the dry season, the water
stands in isolated pools, with no apparent current. But such is the
quantity of water sent down from the mountains by this noble stream
at the time of the annual freshets, that there is sufficient depth,
even upon these bars, to float large and heavy boats; and having once
passed these obstructions, they can be taken up to the place where the
river escapes from the crags of the mountains. Boats intended to ascend
the river, should start from the mouth about the 1st of February. The
Arkansas will be useful in conveying munitions of war to our southern
frontier. In the dry season, the waters of this river are strongly
impregnated with salt and nitre.

There are about 135,000 Indians inhabiting the Great Prairie
Wilderness,[63] of whose social and civil condition, manners and
customs, &c. I will give a brief account. {114} It would seem natural
to commence with those tribes which reside in what is called "The
Indian Territory;" a tract of country bounded south by the Red River,
east by the States of Arkansas and Missouri--on the north-east and
north by the Missouri and Punch Rivers,[64] and west by the western
limit of habitable country on this side of the Rocky Mountains. This
the National Government has purchased of the indigenous tribes at
specific prices; and under treaty stipulations to pay them certain
annuities in cash, and certain others in facilities for learning the
useful arts, and for acquiring that knowledge of all kinds of truth
which will, as is supposed, in the end excite the wants, create the
industry, and confer upon them the happiness of the civilized state.

These benevolent intentions of Government, however, have a still wider
reach. Soon after the English power had been extinguished here, the
enlightened men who had raised over its ruins the temples of equal
justice, began to make efforts to restore to the Indians within the
colonies the few remaining rights that British injustice had left
within their power to return; and so to exchange property with them, as
to {115} secure to the several States the right of sovereignty within
their several limits, and to the Indians, the functions of a sovereign
power, restricted in this, that the tribes should not sell their lands
to other person or body corporate, or civil authority, beside the
Government of the United States; and in some other respects restricted,
so as to preserve peace among the tribes, prevent tyranny, and lead
them to the greatest happiness they are capable of enjoying.[65]

Various and numerous were the efforts made to raise and ameliorate
their condition in their old haunts within the precincts of the
States. But a total or partial failure followed them all. In a few
cases, indeed, there seemed a certain prospect of final success, if
the authorities of the States in which they resided had permitted
them to remain where they were. But as all experience tended to prove
that their proximity to the whites induced among them more vice than
virtue; and as the General Government, before any attempts had been
made to elevate them, had become bound to remove them from {116} many
of the States in which they resided, both the welfare of the Indians,
and the duty of the Government, urged their colonization in a portion
of the western domain, where, freed from all questions of conflicting
sovereignties, and under the protection of the Union, and their own
municipal regulations, they might find a refuge from those influences
which threatened the annihilation of their race.

The "Indian Territory" has been selected for this purpose. And
assuredly if an inexhaustible soil, producing all the necessaries of
life in greater abundance, and with a third less labour than they are
produced in the Atlantic States, with excellent water, fine groves
of timber growing by the streams, rocky cliffs rising at convenient
distances for use among the deep alluvial plains, mines of iron and
lead ore and coal, lakes and springs and streams of salt water, and
innumerable quantities of buffalo ranging through their lands, are
sufficient indications that this country is a suitable dwelling-place
for a race of men which is passing from the savage to the civilized
condition, the Indian Territory has been well chosen as the home
of these unfortunate people. Thither the Government, for the last
thirty years, has been endeavouring {117} to induce those within the
jurisdiction of the States to emigrate.[66]

The Government purchase the land which the emigrating tribes
leave--giving them others within the Territory; transport them to
their new abode; erect a portion of their dwellings; plough and fence
a portion of their fields; furnish them teachers of agriculture, and
implements of husbandry, horses, cattle, &c.; erect schoolhouses,
and support teachers in them the year round; make provision for the
subsistence of those who, by reason of their recent emigration, are
unable to support themselves; and do every other act of benevolence
necessary to put within their ability to enjoy, not only all the
physical comforts that they left behind them, but also every requisite,
facility, and encouragement to become a reasoning, cultivated, and
happy people.

Nor does this spirit of liberality stop here. The great doctrine that
Government is formed to confer upon its subjects a greater degree of
happiness than they could enjoy in the natural state, has suggested
that the system of hereditary chieftaincies, and its dependant evils
among the tribes, should yield, as circumstances may permit, to the
ordination of nature, the supremacy {118} of intellect and virtue.
Accordingly, it is contemplated to use the most efficient means to
abolish them, making the rulers elective, establishing a form of
government in each tribe, similar in department and duties to our State
Governments, and uniting the tribes under a General Government, similar
in powers and functions to that at Washington.[67]

It is encouraging to know that some of the tribes have adopted this
system; and that the Government of the Union has been so far encouraged
to hope for its adoption by all those in the Indian Territory, that in
1837 orders were issued from the Department of Indian affairs, to the
Superintendent of Surveys, to select and report a suitable place for
the Central Government. A selection was accordingly made of a charming
and valuable tract of land on the Osage river, about seven miles
square; which, on account of its equal distance from the northern and
southern line of the Territory, and the beauty and excellence of the
surrounding country, appears in every way adapted to its contemplated
use. It is a little more than sixteen miles from the western line of
Missouri. Any member of those tribes which come into the confederation,
may own property in the district, and no other.[68]

{119} The indigenous, or native tribes of the Indian Territory,
are--the Osages, about 5,510; the Kauzaus or Caws, 1,720; the Omahas,
1,400; the Otoe and Missouri, 1,600; the Pawnee, 10,000; Puncah, 800;
Quapaw, 600--making 21,660. The tribes that have emigrated thither from
the States, are--the Choctaw, 15,600 (this estimate includes 200 white
men, married to Choctaw women, and 600 negro slaves); the Chickasaws,
5,500; the Cherokees, 22,000 (this estimate includes 1,200 negro slaves
owned by them); the Cherokees (including 900 slaves), 22,000; the
Creeks (including 393 negro slaves) 22,500; the Senecas and Shawnees,
461; the Seminoles, 1,600; the Pottawatamies, 1,650; the Weas, 206; the
Piankashas, 157; the Peorias and Kaskaskias, 142; the Ottawas, 240; the
Shawnees, 823; the Delawares, 921; the Kickapoos, 400; the Sauks, 600;
the Iowas, 1,000. It is to be understood that the numbers assigned to
these tribes represent only those portions of them which have actually
removed to the Territory. Large numbers of several tribes are still
within the borders of the States. It appears from the above tables,
then, that 72,200 have had lands assigned them; and, abating the
relative {120} effects of births and deaths among them, in increasing
or diminishing their numbers, are actually residing in the Territory.
These, added to 21,000 of the indigenous tribes, amount to 94,860
under the fostering care of the Federal Government, in a fertile and
delightful country, six hundred miles in length from north to south,
and east and west from the frontier of the Republic to the deserts of
the mountains.

The Choctaw country lies in the extreme south of the Territory. Its
boundaries are--on the south, the Red River, which separates it from
the Republic of Texas; on the west, by that line running from the Red
River to the Arkansas River, which separates the Indian American
Territory from that of Mexico;[69] on the north, by the Arkansas and
the Canadian Rivers; and on the east, by the State of Arkansas. This
tract is capable of producing the most abundant crops, the small
grains, Indian corn, flax, hemp, tobacco, cotton, &c. The western
portion of it is poorly supplied with timber; but all the distance from
the Arkansas' frontier westward, two hundred miles, and extending one
hundred and sixty miles from its northern to its southern boundary, the
country is capable of supporting {121} a population as dense as that of
England. 19,200,000 acres of soil suitable for immediate settlement,
and a third as much more to the westward that would produce the black
locust in ten years after planting, of sufficient size for fencing the
very considerable part of it which is rich enough for agricultural
purposes, will, doubtless, sustain any increased population of this
tribe that can reasonably be looked for during the next five hundred
years.

They have suffered much from sickness incident to settlers in a new
country. But there appear to be no natural causes existing, which,
in the known order of things, will render their location permanently
unhealthy. On the other hand, since they have become somewhat inured
to the change of climate, they are quite as healthy as the whites
near them; and are improving in civilization and comfort; have many
large farms; much live stock, such as horses, mules, cattle, sheep,
and swine; three flouring-mills, two cotton-gins, eighty-eight looms,
and two hundred and twenty spinning-wheels; carts, waggons, and other
farming utensils. Three or four thousand Choctaws have not yet settled
on the lands assigned to them. A part of these are in {122} Texas,
between the rivers Brazos and Trinity, 300 in number, who located
themselves there in the time of the general emigration; and others in
divers places in Texas, who emigrated thither at various times twenty,
thirty, and forty years ago. Still another band continues to reside
east of the Mississippi.

The Choctaw Nation, as the tribe denominates itself, has adopted a
written constitution of Government, similar to the Constitution of
the United States. Their Declaration of Rights secures to all ranks
and sects equal rights, liberty of conscience, and trial by jury,
&c. It may be altered or amended by a National Council. They have
divided their country into four judicial districts. Three of them
annually elect nine, and the other thirteen, members of the National
Assembly. They meet on the first Monday in October annually; organize
by the election of a Speaker, the necessary clerks, a light-horseman
(sergeant-at-arms), and doorkeeper; adopt by-laws, or rules for their
governance, while in session; and make other regulations requisite for
the systematic transaction of business. The journals are kept in the
English language; but in the progress of business are read off {123}
in Choctaw. The preliminary of a law is, "Be it enacted by the General
Council of the Choctaw Nation."

By the Constitution, the Government is composed of four departments,
viz.: Legislative, Executive, Judicial and Military. Three judges
are elected in each district by popular vote, who hold inferior and
superior courts within their respective districts. Ten light-horse men
in each district perform the duties of sheriffs. An act has been passed
for the organization of the militia. Within each judicial district an
officer is elected, denominated a chief, who holds his office for the
term of four years. These chiefs have honorary seats in the National
Council. Their signatures are necessary to the passage of a law. If
they veto an act, it may become a law by the concurrence of two-thirds
of the Council. Thus have the influences of our institutions begun to
tame and change the savages of the western wilderness.[70]

At the time when the lights of religion and science had scarcely begun
to dawn upon them--when they had scarcely discovered the clouds of
ignorance that had walled every avenue to rational life--even while
the dust of antiquated barbarism was {124} still hanging upon their
garments--and the night of ages, of sloth, and sin held them in its
cold embraces--the fires on the towers of this great temple of civil
freedom arrested their slumbering faculties, and they read on all the
holy battlements, written with beams of living light, "All men are, and
of right ought to be, free and equal." This teaching leads them. It was
a pillar of fire moving over the silent grave of the past--enlightening
the vista of coming years--and, by its winning brightness, inviting
them to rear in the Great Prairie wilderness, a sanctuary of republican
liberty--of equal laws--in which to deposit the ark of their own future
well-being.

The Chickasaws have become merged in the Choctaws. When they sold to
the Government their lands east of the Mississippi, they agreed to
furnish themselves with a home. This they have done in the western
part of the Choctaw country for the sum of £106,000. It is called the
Chickasaw district; and constitutes an integral part of the Choctaw
body politic in every respect, except that the Chickasaws, like the
Choctaws, received and invest for their own sole use, the annuities
and other moneys proceeding from the sale of their lands east of the
Mississippi.[71]

{125} The treaty of 1830 provides for keeping forty Choctaw youths at
school, under the direction of the President of the United States, for
the term of twenty years. Also, the sum of £500 is to be applied to the
support of three teachers of schools among them for the same length
of time. There is, also, an unexpended balance of former annuities,
amounting to about £5,000, which is to be applied to the support of
schools, at twelve different places. Schoolhouses have been erected
for this purpose, and paid for, out of this fund. Also, by the treaty
of 1825, they are entitled to an annuity of £1,200, for the support of
schools within the Choctaw district.

The treaty of the 24th of May, 1834, provides that £600 annually, for
fifteen years, shall be applied, under the direction of the Secretary
of War, to the education of the Chickasaws. These people have become
very wealthy, by the cession of their lands east of the Mississippi
to the United States. They have a large fund applicable to various
objects of civilization; £2,000 of which is, for the present, applied
to purposes of education.[72]

The country assigned to the Cherokees is bounded as follows: beginning
on the {126} north bank of Arkansas River, where the western line of
the State of Arkansas crosses the river; thence north 7° 35´ west,
along the line of the State of Arkansas, seventy-seven miles to the
south-west corner of the State of Missouri; thence north along the
line of Missouri, eight miles to Seneca River; thence west along the
southern boundary of the Senecas to Neosho River; thence up said river
to the Osage lands; thence west with the South boundary of the Osage
lands, two hundred and eighty-eight and a half miles; thence south
to the Creek lands, and east along the north line of the creeks, to
a point about forty-three miles west of the State of Arkansas, and
twenty-five miles north of Arkansas River, thence south to Verdigris
River, thence down Verdigris to Arkansas River; thence down Arkansas
River to the mouth of Neosho River; thence South 53° west one mile;
thence south 18° 19´ west thirty-three miles; thence south four miles,
to the junction of the North Fork and Canadian Rivers; thence down the
latter to the Arkansas; and thence down the Arkansas, to the place of
beginning.[73]

They also own a tract, described, by beginning at the south-east corner
of the Osage lands, and running north with the Osage line, fifty miles;
thence east twenty-five {127} miles to the west line of Missouri;
thence west twenty-five miles, to the place of beginning.

They own numerous Salt Springs, three of which are worked by Cherokees.
The amount of Salt manufactured is probably about 100 bushels per
day. They also own two Lead Mines. Their Salt Works and Lead Mines
are in the Eastern portion of their country. All the settlements yet
formed are there also. It embraces about 2,500,000 acres. They own
about 20,000 head of cattle, 3,000 horses, 15,000 hogs, 600 sheep,
110 waggons, often several ploughs to one farm, several hundred
spinning wheels, and one hundred looms. Their fields are enclosed with
rail fences. They have erected for themselves good log dwellings,
with stone chimneys and plank floors. Their houses are furnished
with plain tables, chairs, and bedsteads, and with table and kitchen
furniture, nearly or quite equal to the dwellings of white people in
new countries.--They have seven native merchants, and one regular
physician, beside several "quacks." Houses of entertainment, with neat
and comfortable accommodation, are found among them.

Their settlements are divided into four districts, each of which
elects for the term {128} of two years, two members of the National
Council--the title of which is, "The General Council of the Cherokee
Nation." By law, it meets annually on the first Monday in October. They
have three chiefs, which till lately have been chosen by the General
Council. Hereafter, they are to be elected by the people. The approval
of the chiefs is necessary to the passage of a law; but an act upon
which they have fixed their veto, may become a law by a vote of two
thirds of the Council. The Council consists of two branches. The lower
is denominated the _Committee_, and the upper, the _Council_. The
concurrence of both is necessary to the passage of a law. The chiefs
may call a Council at pleasure. In this, and in several other respects,
they retain in some degree the authority common to hereditary chiefs.
Two Judges belong to each district, who hold courts when necessary.
Two officers, denominated Light-horsemen, in each district perform
the duties of Sheriffs. A company of six or seven Light-horsemen,
the leader of whom is styled captain, constitute a National Corps of
Regulators, to prevent infractions of the law, and to bring offenders
to justice.[74]

It is stipulated in the treaty of the 6th {129} of May, 1823, that the
United States will pay £400 annually to the Cherokees for ten years,
to be expended under the direction of the President of the United
States, in the education of their children, _in their own country_,
in letters and mechanic arts. Also £200 toward the purchase of a
printing-press and types. By the treaty of December 29, 1835, the sum
of £30,000 is provided for the support of common schools, and such a
literary institution of a higher order as may be established in the
Indian country. The above sum is to be added to an education fund of
£10,000 that previously existed, making the sum of £40,000 which is
to remain a permanent school fund, only the interest of which is to
be consumed. The application of this money is to be directed by the
Cherokee Nation, under the supervision of the President of the United
States. The interest of it will be sufficient constantly to keep in a
boarding-school two hundred children; or eight hundred, if boarded by
their parents.

The country of the Creeks joins Canadian river, and the lands of the
Choctaws on the south, and the Cherokee lands on the east and north.
Their eastern limit is about sixty-two miles from north to south; {130}
their western limit the Mexican boundary.[75]

Their country is fertile, and exhibits a healthy appearance; but of
the latter Creek emigrants who reached Arkansas in the winter and
spring of 1837, about two hundred died on the road; and before the 1st
of October succeeding the arrival, about three thousand five hundred
more fell victims to bilious fevers. In the same year three hundred of
the earlier emigrants died. They own salt springs, cultivate  corn,
vegetables, &c., spin, weave and sew, and follow other pursuits of
civilised people. Many of them have large stocks of cattle. Before the
crops of 1837 had been gathered, they had sold corn to the amount of
upwards of £7,800; and vast quantities still remained unsold. Even the
emigrants who arrived in their country during the winter and spring,
previous to the cropping season of 1837, broke the turf, fenced their
fields, raised their crops for the first time on the soil, and sold
their surplus of corn for £2,000. They have two native merchants.

The civil government of this tribe is less perfect than that of the
Cherokees. There are two bands; the one under McIntosh, the other under
Little Doctor.[76] That led {131} by the former, brought with them from
their old home written laws which they enforce as the laws of their
band. That under the latter, made written laws after their arrival.
Each party holds a general council. The members of each are hereditary
chiefs, and a class of men called councillors. Each of these great
bands is divided into lesser ones; which severally may hold courts, try
civil and criminal causes, sentence, and execute, &c. Laws, however,
are made by the general councils only; and it is becoming customary
to entertain trials of cases before these bodies, and to detail some
of their members for executioners. The legislative, judicial, and
executive departments of their government are thus becoming strangely
united in one.

The treaty of the 6th of March, 1832, stipulates that an annuity of
£600 shall be expended by the United States, under the direction of
the President, for the term of twenty years, in the education of their
children. Another £200 by the treaty of the 14th of February, 1833, is
to be annually expended during the pleasure of Congress for the same
object, under the direction of the President.

In location and government the Seminoles {132} are merged in the
Creeks.[77] In the spring of 1836, about four hundred of them emigrated
from the east, and settled on the north fork of Canadian river. In
October, 1837, they were reduced by sickness nearly one-half. During
these awful times of mortality among them, some of the dead were
deposited in the hollows of the standing and fallen trees, and others,
for want of these, were placed in a temporary inclosure of boards, on
the open plains. Guns and other articles of property were often buried
with the dead, according to ancient custom; and so great is said to
have been the terror of the time, that, having abandoned themselves
awhile to their wailings around the burial-places of their friends,
they fled to the western deserts till the pestilence subsided. Of the
two thousand and twenty-three emigrants who had reached their new
homes prior to October, 1832, not more than one thousand six hundred
remained alive.

The Senecas consist of three bands, namely: Senecas two hundred,
Senecas and Shawanoes two hundred and eleven, Mohawks fifty; in all
four hundred and sixty-one. The lands of the Senecas proper adjoin
those of the Cherokees on the south, {133} and abutting on the Missouri
border, the distance of thirteen miles, extend north to Neosho river.
The lands of the mixed band of Senecas and Shawanoes, extend north
between the State of Missouri and Neosho river, so far as to include
sixty-thousand acres.[78]

These people, also, are in some measure civilized. Most of them speak
English. They have fields inclosed with rail fences, and raise corn and
vegetables sufficient for their own use. They own about eight-hundred
horses, twelve hundred cattle, thirteen yoke of oxen, two hundred hogs,
five waggons, and sixty-seven ploughs; dwell in neat, hewn log cabins
erected by themselves, and furnished with bedsteads, chairs, tables,
&c., of their own manufacture; and own one grist and saw-mill, erected
at the expense of the United States.

The country of the Osages lies north of the western portion of the
Cherokee lands, commencing twenty-five miles west of the State of
Missouri, and thence, in a width of fifty miles, extends westward
as far as the country can be inhabited. In 1817, they numbered ten
thousand five hundred. Wars with the Sioux, and other causes, have left
only five thousand five hundred. {134} About half the tribe reside
on the eastern portion of their lands; the residue in the Cherokee
country, in two villages on Verdigris river.[79]

This tribe has made scarcely any improvement. Their fields are small
and badly fenced. Their huts are constructed of poles inserted in the
ground, bent together at the top, and covered with bark, mats, &c.,
and some of them with buffalo and elk skins. The fire is placed in the
centre, and the smoke escapes through an aperture at the top. These
huts are built in villages, and crowded together without order or
arrangement, and destitute of furniture of any kind, except a platform
raised about two feet upon stakes set in the ground. This extends along
the side of the hut, and may serve for a seat, a table, or a bedstead.
The leggings, and moccasins for the feet, are seldom worn except in
cold weather, or when they are travelling in the grass. These, with a
temporary garment fastened about the loins, and extending downwards,
and a buffalo robe or blanket thrown loosely around them, constitute
the sole wardrobe of the males and married females. The unmarried
females wear also a strip of plain cloth eight or nine inches wide,
which they throw over {135} one shoulder, draw it over the breasts, and
fasten it under the opposite arm.

The Osages were, when the whites first knew them, brave, warlike,
and in the Indian sense of the term, in affluent circumstances. They
were the hardiest and fiercest enemies of the terrible Sioux; but
their independent spirit is gone, and they have degenerated into the
miserable condition of insolent, starving thieves. The government has
been, and is making the most generous efforts to elevate them. The
treaty of 1825 provides, "that the President of the United States
shall employ such persons to aid the Osages in their agricultural
pursuits, as to him may seem expedient." Under this stipulation, £240
annually have been expended, for the last fifteen years. This bounty of
the government, however, has not been of any permanent benefit to the
tribe. The same treaty of 1825, required fifty-four sections of land
to be laid off and sold under the direction of the President of the
United States, and the proceeds to be applied to the education of Osage
children. Early in the year 1838, government made an arrangement by
which they were to be paid two dollars per acre, for the whole tract of
fifty-four sections, {136} 34,560 acres. This commutation has secured
to the Osage tribe, the sum of £13,824 for education; a princely
fund for five thousand five hundred and ten individuals. Government
hereditary chieftaincies.

The band of Quapaws was originally connected with the Osages. Their
lands lie immediately north of the Senecas and Shawanoes, and extend
north between the state of Missouri on the east, and Neosho River
on the west, so far as to include 96,000 acres. Their country is
south-east of, and near to the country of the Osages. Their habits
are somewhat more improved, and their circumstances more comfortable
than those of the last named tribe. They subsist by industry at home,
cultivate fields enclosed with rail fences; and about three-fourths of
them have erected for themselves small log dwellings with chimneys.
Unfortunately for the Quapaws, they settled on the lands of the Senecas
and Shawanoes, from which they must soon remove to their own. A small
band of them, forty or fifty in number, have settled in Texas, and
about thirty others live among the Choctaws.[80]

The Pottawatamies, in emigrating to the west, have unfortunately been
divided into two bands. One thousand or fifteen hundred {137} have
located themselves on the north-east side of the Missouri River, two
hundred and forty miles from the country designated by government
as their permanent residence. Negotiations have been made to effect
their removal to their own lands, but without success. About fifteen
hundred others have settled near the Sauks, on the Mississippi, and
manifest a desire to remain there. The country designated for them lies
on the sources of the Osage and Neosho rivers; it commences sixteen
miles and four chains west of the State of Missouri, and in a width of
twenty-four miles, extends west two hundred miles. By the treaty of
1833, they are allowed the sum of £14,000 for purposes of education
and the encouragement of the useful arts. Also by the same treaty,
is secured to them the sum of £30,000 to be applied in the erection
of mills, farmhouses, Indian houses, and blacksmiths' shops; to the
purchase of agricultural implements and live stock, and for the support
of physicians, millers, farmers, and blacksmiths, which the President
of the United States shall think proper to appoint to their service.[81]

The Weas and Piankashas are bands of Miamis. Their country lies north
of the {138} Pottawatamies, adjoins the State of Missouri on the east,
the Shawanoes on the north, and the Peorias and Kaskaskias on the
west--160,000 acres. These people own a few cattle and swine. About
one-half of their dwellings are constructed of logs, the remainder of
bark, in the old native style. Their fields are enclosed with rails,
and they cultivate corn and vegetables sufficient for a comfortable
subsistence. The Piankasha band is less improved than the Weas. The
former have a field of about fifty acres, made by the government; the
latter have made their own improvements.

The Peorias and Kaskaskias are also bands of the Miamis. Their land
lies immediately west of the Weas; adjoins the Shawanoes on the
north, and the Ottowas on the west. They own 96,000 acres. They are
improving, live in log-houses, have small fields generally enclosed
with rail-fences, and own considerable numbers of cattle and swine.[82]

The lands of the Ottowas lie immediately west of the Peorias and
Kaskaskias, and south of the Shawanoes. The first band of emigrants
received 36,000 acres, and one which arrived subsequently, 40,000
acres, adjoining the first. They all live in good {139} log cabins,
have fields enclosed with rail-fences, raise a comfortable supply of
corn and garden vegetables, are beginning to raise wheat, have horses,
cattle and swine, a small grist-mill in operation, and many other
conveniences of life, that indicate an increasing desire among them to
seek from the soil, rather than the chase, the means of life. About
five thousand Ottowas, residing in Michigan, are soon to be removed
to their brethren in the Territory. The country of the Ottowas lies
upon the western verge of the contemplated Indian settlement, and
consequently opens an unlimited range to the westward. Their government
is based on the old system of Indian chieftaincies.[83]

Immediately on the north of the Weas and Piankashas the Peorias
and Kaskaskias and Ottowas, lies the country of the Shawnees, or
Shawanoes. It extends along the line of the State of Missouri, north,
twenty-eight miles to the Missouri River at its junction with the
Konzas, thence to a point sixty miles on a direct course to the lands
of the Kauzaus, thence south on the Kauzaus line six miles, and from
these lines, with a breadth of about nineteen miles to a north and
south line, one hundred and twenty miles west of the State of Missouri,
{140} containing 1,600,000 acres. Their principal settlements are on
the north-east corner of their country, between the Missouri border
and the Konzas River. Most of them live in neatly hewn log-cabins,
erected by themselves, and partially supplied with furniture of their
own manufacture. Their fields are inclosed with rail-fences, and
sufficiently large to yield plentiful supplies of corn and culinary
vegetables. They keep cattle and swine, work oxen, and use horses for
draught, and own some ploughs, waggons and carts. They have a saw and
grist-mill, erected by government at an expense of about £1,600. This,
like many other emigrant tribes, is much scattered. Besides the two
bands on the Neosho, already mentioned, there is one on Trinity River,
in Texas, and others in divers places.

Under the superintendence of Missionaries of various denominations,
these people are making considerable progress in Education and
the Mechanic Arts. They have a printing press among them, from
which is issued a monthly periodical, entitled the "Shauwawnoue
Kesauthwau"--Shawanoe Sun.[84]

The lands of the Delawares lie north of the Shawanots, in the forks of
the Konzas {141} and Missouri Rivers; extending up the former to the
Kauzaus lands, thence north twenty-four miles, to the north-east corner
of the Kauzaus survey, up the Missouri twenty-three miles, in a direct
course to Cantonment Leavenworth, thence with a line westward to a
point ten miles north of the north-east corner of the Kauzaus survey,
and then a slip not more than ten miles wide, it extends westwardly
along the northern boundary of the Kauzaus, two-hundred and ten miles
from the State of Missouri.

They live in the eastern portion of their country, near the junction
of the Konzas and Missouri Rivers; have good hewn log-houses, and some
furniture in them; inclose their fields with rail fences; keep cattle
and hogs; apply horses to draught; use oxen and ploughs; cultivate corn
and garden vegetables, sufficient for use: have commenced the culture
of wheat; and own a grist and saw-mill, erected by the United States.
Some of these people remain in the Lake country; a few are in Texas;
about one-hundred reside on the Choctaw lands near Arkansas River, one
hundred and twenty miles west of the state of Arkansas. These latter
have acquired the {142} languages of the Cumanches, Keaways, Pawnees,
&c., and are extensively employed as interpreters by traders from
the Indian Territory. The Treaty of September, 1829, provides that
thirty-six sections of the _best_ land within the district at that time
ceded to the United States, be selected and sold, and the proceeds
applied to the support of Schools for the education of Delaware
children. In the year 1838, the Delawares agreed to a commutation
of two dollars per acre, which secures to them an Education Fund of
£9,000.[85]

The country of the Kauzaus lies on the Konzas River. It commences sixty
miles west of the State of Missouri, and thence, in a width of thirty
miles, extends westward as far as the plains can be inhabited. It is
well watered and timbered; and in every respect delightful. They are
a lawless, dissolute race. Formerly they committed many depredations
upon their own traders, and other persons ascending the Missouri River.
But, being latterly restrained in this regard by the United States,
they have turned their predatory operations upon their red neighbours.
In language, habits and condition in life, they are in effect the same
as the Osages. In {143} matters of peace and war, the two tribes are
blended. They are virtually one people.

Like the Osages, the Kauzaus are ignorant and wretched in the extreme;
uncommonly servile, and easily managed by the white men who reside
among them.[86] Almost all of them live in villages of straw, bark,
flag and earth huts. These latter are in the form of a cone; wall two
feet in thickness, supported by wooden pillars within. Like the other
huts, these have no floor except the earth. The fire is built in the
centre of the interior area. The smoke escapes at an opening in the
apex of the cone. The door is a mere hole, through which they crawl,
closed by the skin of some animal suspended therein.[87] They cultivate
small patches of corn, beans and melons. They dig the ground with hoes
and sticks. Their fields generally, are not fenced. They have one,
however, of three hundred acres, which the United States six years ago
ploughed and fenced for them. The principal Chiefs have log-houses
built by the Government Agent.

It is encouraging, however, to know that these miserable creatures
are beginning to yield to the elevating influences around {144} them.
A missionary has induced some of them to leave the villages, make
separate settlements, build log-houses, &c. The United States have
furnished them with four yoke of oxen, one waggon, and other means of
cultivating the soil. They have succeeded in stealing a large number
of horses and mules; own a very few hogs; no stock cattle. By a treaty
formed with them in 1825, thirty-six sections, or 23,040 acres, of
good land were to be selected and sold to educate Kauzaus children
within their territory. But proper care not having been taken in making
the selection, 9,000 acres only have been sold. The remaining 14,040
acres of the tract, it is said, will scarcely sell at any price, so
utterly worthless is it. Hence only £2,250 have been realised from this
munificent appropriation. By the same treaty, provision was made for
the application of £120 per annum, to aid them in agriculture.[88]

The Kickapoo lands lie on the north of the Delawares; extend up the
Missouri river thirty miles direct, thence westward about forty five
miles, and thence south twenty miles to the Delaware line, embracing
768,000 acres.

They live on the south-eastern extremity {145} of their lands, near
Cantonment Leavenworth.[89] In regard to civilization, their condition
is similar to that of the Peorias. They are raising a surplus of
the grains, &c. have cattle and hogs, £140 worth of the latter, and
three hundred and forty head of the former from the United States,
in obedience to treaty stipulations; have about thirty yoke of oxen,
fourteen yoke of them purchased chiefly with the produce of their
farms; have a saw and grist mill, erected by the United States.
Nearly one-half of the tribe are unsettled and scattered, some in
Texas, others with the southern tribes, and still others ranging the
mountains. The treaty of October 24th, 1832, provides that the United
States shall pay £100 per annum for ten successive years, for the
support of a school, purchase of books, &c. for the benefit of the
Kickapoo tribe on their own lands. A schoolhouse and teacher have been
furnished in conformity with this stipulation. The same treaty provides
£200 for labour and improvements on the Kickapoo lands.[90]

The Sauks, and Reynards or Foxes, speak the same language, and are so
perfectly consolidated by intermarriages and other ties of interest,
as, in fact, to be one nation.[91]

{146} They formerly owned the north-western half of the State of
Illinois, and a large part of the State of Missouri. No Indian
tribe, except the Sioux, has shown such daring intrepidity, and such
implacable hatred towards other tribes. Their enmity, when once
excited, was never known to be appeased, till the arrow and tomahawk
had for ever prostrated their foes. For centuries the prairies of
Illinois and Iowa were the theatre of their exterminating prowess;
and to them is to be attributed the almost entire destruction of the
Missouris, the Illinois, Cahokias, Kaskaskias, and Peorias. They were,
however, steady and sincere in their friendship to the whites; and many
is the honest old settler on the borders of their old dominion, who
mentions with the warmest feelings, the respectful treatment he has
received from them, while he cut the logs for his cabin, and ploughed
his "potato patch" on that lonely and unprotected frontier.

Like all the tribes, however, this also dwindles away at the approach
of the whites. A melancholy fact. The Indians' bones must enrich the
soil, before the plough of civilized man can open it. The noble heart,
educated by the tempest to {147} endure the last pang of departing life
without a cringe of a muscle; that heart educated by his condition to
love with all the powers of being, and to hate with the exasperated
malignity of a demon; that heart, educated by the voice of its own
existence--the sweet whisperings of the streams--the holy flowers of
spring-to trust in, and adore the Great producing and sustaining Cause
of itself, and the broad world and the lights of the upper skies, must
fatten the corn hills of a more civilized race! The sturdy plant of
the wilderness droops under the enervating culture of the garden. The
Indian is buried with his arrows and bow.

In 1832 their friendly relations with their white neighbours were, I
believe, for the first time, seriously interrupted. A treaty had been
formed between the chiefs of the tribe and commissioners, representing
the United States, containing, among other stipulations, the sale of
their lands north of the Rock River, &c. in the State of Illinois.
This tract of country contained the old villages and burial-places of
the tribe. It was, indeed, the sanctuary of all that was venerable and
sacred among them. They wintered and summered there long before the
date of their historical legends. And on {148} these flowering plains
the spoils of war--the loves of early years--every thing that delights
man to remember of the past, clung closely to the tribe, and made them
dissatisfied with the sale. Black-Hawk was the principal chief. He,
too, was unwilling to leave his village in a charming glen, at the
mouth of Rock River, and increased the dissatisfaction of his people
by declaring that "the white chiefs had deceived himself and the other
contracting chiefs" in this, "that he had never, and the other chiefs
had never consented to such a sale as the white chiefs had written,
and were attempting to enforce upon them." They dug up the painted
tomahawk with great enthusiasm, and fought bravely by their noble old
chief for their beautiful home. But, in the order of nature, the plough
must bury the hunter. And so it was with this truly great chief and his
brave tribe. They were driven over the Mississippi to make room for the
marshalled host of veteran husbandmen, whose strong blows had levelled
the forests of the Atlantic States; and yet unwearied with planting
the rose on the brow of the wilderness, demanded that the Prairies also
should yield food to their hungry sickles.[92]

{149} The country assigned them as their permanent residence, adjoins
the southern boundary of the Kickapoos, and on the north and north
east the Missouri river. They are but little improved. Under treaty
stipulations, they have some few houses and fields made for them by
the United States, and are entitled to more. Some live stock has been
given them, and more is to be furnished. The main body of the Sauks,
usually denominated the Sauks and Foxes, estimated at four thousand
six hundred souls, reside on the Iowa river, in Iowa Territory. They
will ultimately be removed to unappropriated lands adjoining those
already occupied by their kindred within the Indian Territory. Both
these bands number twelve thousand four hundred. By the treaty of
Prairie du Chien of 1830, the Sauks are entitled to £100 a year for the
purposes of education. By treaty of September, 1836, they are entitled
to a schoolmaster, a farmer, and blacksmith, as long as the United
States shall deem proper. Three comfortable houses are to be erected
for them, two hundred acres of prairie land fenced and ploughed, such
agricultural implements furnished as they may need for five years, one
ferry-boat, two hundred and {150} five head of cattle, one hundred
stock hogs, and a flouring mill. These benefits they are receiving, but
are making an improvident use of them.

The country of the Iowas contains one hundred and twenty-eight thousand
acres adjoining the north eastern boundaries of the Sauks, with the
Missouri river on the north east, and the great Nemaha river on the
north. Their condition is similar to that of the Sauks. The aid which
they have received, and are to receive from the government, is about
the same in proportion to their numbers. The villages of the Sauks and
Iowas, are within two miles of each other.[93]

The Otoes are the descendants of the Missouris, with whom they united
after the reduction of the latter tribe by the Sauks and Foxes.
They claim a portion of land lying in the fork between Missouri and
Great Platte rivers. The government of the United States understand,
however, that their lands extend southward from the Platte down the
Missouri to Little Nemaha river, a distance of about forty miles;
thence their southern boundary extends westward up Little Nemaha to
its source, and thence due west. Their western and northern boundaries
are not particularly {151} defined. Their southern boundary is about
twenty-five miles north of the Iowa's land.[94]

By treaty, such of their tribe as are related to the whites, have an
interest in a tract adjoining the Missouri river, and extending from
the Little Nemaha to the Great Nemaha, a length of about twenty-eight
miles, and ten miles wide. No Indians reside on this tract.

The condition of this people is similar to that of the Osages and
Kauzaus. The United States Government has fenced and ploughed for them
one hundred and thirty acres of land. In 1838, they cultivated three
hundred acres of corn. They own six ploughs, furnished by Government.
Their progenitors, the Missouris, were, when the French first knew the
country, the most numerous tribe in the vicinity of Saint Louis; and
the great stream, on whose banks they reside, and the State which has
risen upon their hunting grounds when the race is extinct, will bear
their name to the generations of coming time. They are said to have
been an energetic and thrifty race before they were visited by the
small-pox, and the destroying vengeance of the Sauks and Foxes. The
site of their ancient village is to be seen on the north bank of the
{152} river, honoured with their name, just below where Grand river now
enters it.[95] Their territory embraced the fertile country lying a
considerable distance along the Missouri, above their village--and down
to the mouth of the Osage, and thence to the Mississippi. The Osages
consider them their inferiors, and treat them oftentimes with great
indignity.

The Omahas own the country north of the mouth of the Great Platte. The
Missouri river is considered its north-eastern limit; the northern and
western boundaries are undefined. This tribe was formerly the terror
of their neighbours. They had, in early times, about one thousand
warriors, and a proportionate number of women and children. But the
small-pox visited them in 1802, and reduced the tribe to about three
hundred souls. This so disheartened those who survived, that they
burnt their village and became a wandering people. They have at last
taken possession again of their country, and built a village on the
south-west bank of the Missouri, at a place chosen for them by the
United States. Their huts are constructed of earth, like those of the
Otoes. A treaty made with them in July, 1830, provides that an annuity
of five hundred {153} dollars shall be paid to them in agricultural
implements, for ten years thereafter, and longer if the President of
the United States thinks proper. A blacksmith also, is to be furnished
them for the same length of time. Another treaty obliges the United
States to plough and fence one hundred acres of land for them, and to
expend, for the term of ten years, £100 annually, in educating Omaha
children.[96]

The Puncahs, or Ponsars, are the remnant of a nation of respectable
importance, formerly living upon Red river, of Lake Winnipeg. Having
been nearly destroyed by the Sioux, they removed to the west side of
the Missouri river, where they built a fortified village, and remained
some years; but being pursued by their ancient enemies, the Sioux,
and reduced by continual wars, they joined the Omahas, and so far
lost their original character as to be undistinguished from them.
They, however, after a while, resumed a separate existence, which they
continue to maintain. They reside in the northern extremity of the
Indian Territory.[97] Their circumstances are similar to those of the
Pawnees.

The Pawnees own an extensive country lying west of the Otoes and
Omahas, on {154} the Great Platte river. Their villages are upon
this stream and its lower tributaries. They are said to have about
two thousand five hundred warriors. Among them are still to be found
every custom of old Indian life. The earth-hut, the scalping-knife,
the tomahawk, and the scalps of their foes dangling from the posts
in their smoky dwellings, the wild war cries, the venerated medicine
bag, with the calumet of peace, the sacred wampum that records
their treaties, the feasts and dances of peace and of war, those of
marriage and of sacrifice, the moccasins, and leggings and war-caps,
and horrid paintings; the moons of the year, as March, the 'worm
moon,' April, the 'moon of plants,' May, the 'moon of flowers,' June,
the 'hot moon,' July, the 'buck moon,' August, the 'sturgeon moon,'
September, the 'corn moon,' October, the travelling moon,' November,
the 'beaver moon,' December, the 'hunting moon,' January, the 'cold
moon,' February, the 'snow moon,' and in reference to its phases, the
"dead moon" and "live moon;" and days are counted by "sleeps," and
their years by "snows." In a word, the Pawnees are as yet unchanged
by the enlightening influences of knowledge and {155} religion. The
philanthropy of the United States Government, however, is putting
within their reach every inducement to improvement. By treaty, £400
worth of agricultural implements is to be furnished them annually for
the term of five years, or longer, at the discretion of the President
of the United States; also, £200 worth of live stock whenever the
President shall believe them prepared to profit thereby; also, £400
annually are to be expended to support two smitheries, with two smiths
in each, for supplying iron, steel, &c., for the term of ten years;
also four grist mills, propelled by horse power; also four farmers
during the term of five years. Also the sum of £200 annually, for ten
years, is to be allowed for the support of schools among them.[98]

These are the emigrant and native Indians within the "Indian
Territory," and their several conditions and circumstances, so far as
I have been able to learn them. The other Indians in the Great Prairie
Wilderness will be briefly noticed under two divisions--those living
south, and those living north of the Great Platte river.

There are living on the head waters of Red river, and between that
river and the {156} Rio Bravo del Norte, the remains of twelve
different tribes--ten of which have an average population of two
hundred souls; none of them number more than four hundred. The
Carankouas and Tetaus, or Cumanches, are more numerous. The former live
about the Bay of St. Bernard. They were always inimical to the Mexicans
and Spaniards; never would succumb to their authority, or receive their
religious teachers. And many hard battles were fought in maintaining
their independence in these respects. In 1817, they amounted to about
three thousand, of which six hundred were warriors.[99]

The Cumanches are supposed to be twenty thousand strong. They are a
brave vagrant tribe, and never reside but a few days in a place, but
travel north with the buffalo in the summer, and, as winter comes
on, return with them to the plains west of Texas. They traverse the
immense space of country extending from the Trinity and Brazos to the
Red River, and the head waters of the Arkansas, and Colorado to the
west, to the Pacific Ocean, and thence to the head streams of the
Missouri, and thence to their winter haunts. They have tents made of
neatly dressed skins, in the form of cones. These, when they stop, are
pitched so as to {157} form streets and squares. They pitch and strike
these tents in an astonishingly short space of time. To every tent is
attached two pack-horses, the one to carry the tent, and the other
the polished cedar poles with which it is spread. These loaded in a
trice--the saddle horses harnessed in still less time--twenty thousand
savages--men, women, and children, warriors and chiefs--start at a
signal whoop, travel the day, again raise their city of tents to rest
and feed themselves and animals for another march.[100]

Thus passes life with the Cumanches. Their plains are covered with
buffalo, elk, deer, and wild horses. It is said that they drink the
blood of the buffalo warm from the veins.

They also eat the liver in its raw state, using the gall as sauce. The
dress of the women is a long loose robe which reaches from the chin to
the ground, made of deer skin dressed very neatly, and painted with
figures of different colours and significations. The dress of the men
is close pantaloons, and a hunting shirt or frock made of the same
beautiful material. They are a warlike and brave race, and stand in the
relation of conquerors among the tribes in the south. The Spaniards
of New Mexico {158} are all acquainted with the strength of their
enemy, and their power to punish those whom they hate. For many are
the scalps and death-dances among these Indians, which testify of wars
and tomahawks which have dug tombs for that poor apology of European
extraction. They are exceedingly fond of stealing the objects of their
enemies' affection. Female children are sought with the greatest
avidity, and adopted or married. "About sixty years ago," as the tale
runs, "the daughter of the Governor-General at Chilhuahua, was stolen
by them. The father immediately pursued, and by an agent, after some
weeks had elapsed, purchased her ransom. But she refused to return to
her parents, and sent them these words: 'That the Indians had tattooed
her face according to their style of beauty--had given her to be the
wife of a young man by whom she believed herself enceinte--that her
husband treated her well, and reconciled her to his mode of life--that
she would be made more unhappy by returning to her father under these
circumstances, than by remaining where she was.' She continued to live
with her husband in the nation, and raised a family of children."

{159} There are the remains of fifteen or twenty tribes in that part of
the Great Prairie Wilderness north of the Great Platte, and north and
west of the Indian Territory. They average about eight hundred each.
The Sioux and the small-pox have reduced them thus.

The Knistineaux chiefly reside in the British possessions along the
northern shores of Lake Superior. Some bands of them have established
themselves south of latitude 49° north, near the head waters of these
branches of Red River of Lake Winnipeg, which rise south of the sources
of the Mississippi. They are moderate in stature, well proportioned,
and of great activity. Mackenzie remarks that their countenances are
frank and agreeable, that the females are well-formed, and their
features are more regular and comely than those of any other tribe he
saw upon the continent. They are warlike--number about three thousand;
but the Sioux are annihilating them.[101]

The Sioux claim a country equal in extent to some of the most powerful
empires of Europe. Their boundaries "commence at the Prairie du
Chien, and ascend the Mississippi on both sides to the River De {160}
Corbeau, and up that to its source, from thence to the sources of the
St. Peter's, thence to the 'Montaigne de la Prairie,' thence to the
Missouri, and down that river to the Omahas, thence to the sources of
the River Des Moines, and thence to the place of beginning." They also
claim a large territory south of the Missouri.[102]

The country from Rum River[103] to the River de Corbeau is claimed
by them and the Chippeways, and has been the source of many bloody
encounters for the past two hundred years. These Indians have conquered
and destroyed immense numbers of their race. They have swept the banks
of the Missouri from the Great Falls to the mouth of the Great Platte
and the plains that lie north of the latter stream, between the Black
Hills and the Mississippi. They are divided into six bands, viz.: the
Menowa Kontong, which resides around the falls of St. Anthony, and
the lower portion of St. Peter's River; the Washpetong, still higher
on that stream; the Sussetong, on its head waters and those of Red
River, of Lake Winnipeg; the Yanktons of the north, who rove over the
plains on the borders of the Missouri valley south of the sources of
the St. Peter's; the Yonktons Ahnah, who {161} live on the Missouri
near the entrance of James River; the Tetons Brulos; Tetons Okandandas;
Tetons Minnekincazzo, and Tetons Sahone, who reside along the banks
of the Missouri from the Great Bend northward to the villages of
the Riccarees.[104] Theirs is the country from which is derived the
colouring matter of that river. The plains are strongly impregnated
with Glauber salts, alum, copperas, and sulphur. In the spring of the
year immense bluffs fall in the stream; and these, together with the
leachings from these medicated prairies, give to the waters their mud
colour, and purgative qualities.

These bands comprise about twenty-eight thousand souls. They subsist
upon buffalo meat, and the wild fruits of their forests. The former
is prepared for winter, and for travelling use, in the following
manner:--The lean parts of the buffalo are cut into thin slices, dried
over a slow fire, in the sun, or by exposing it to frost--pounded fine,
and then, with a portion of berries, mixed with an equal quantity of
fat from the humps and brisket, or with marrow, in a boiling state, and
sewed up tightly in sacks of green hide, or packed closely in baskets
of wicker work. This "pemican," as they call it, will keep {162} for
several years. They also use much of the wild rice, avena fatua, which
grows in great abundance on the St. Peter's, and among the lakes and
head streams of Red River, of Winnipeg, and in other parts of their
territory. It grows in water from four to seven feet deep with a muddy
bottom. The plant rises from four to eight feet above the surface of
the water, about the size of the red cane of Tennessee, full of joints,
and of the colour and texture of bull-rushes: the stalks above the
water, and the branches which bear the grain, resemble oats.[105]

To these strange grain fields the wild duck and geese resort for food
in the summer. And to prevent it from being devoured by them, the
Indians tie it, when the kernel is in the milky state, just below the
head, into large bunches. This arrangement prevents these birds from
pressing the heads down within their reach. When ripe, the Indians
pass among it with canoes lined with blankets, into which they bend
the stalks, and whip off the grain with sticks; and so abundant is it,
that an expert squaw will soon fill a canoe. After being gathered, it
is dried and put into skins or baskets for use. They boil or parch
it, and eat it in the winter season {163} with their pemican. This
plant is found no farther south than Illinois, no farther east than
Sandusky Bay, and north nearly to Hudson's Bay. The rivers and lakes of
the Sioux and Chippeway country are said to produce annually several
million bushels of it. It is equally as nutritious and palatable as
the Carolina rice. Carver also says that the St. Peter's flows through
a country producing spontaneously all the necessaries of life in the
greatest abundance. Besides the wild rice, he informs us that every
part of the valley of that river "is filled with trees bending under
their loads of plums, grapes, and apples; the meadows with hops, and
many sorts of vegetables, while the ground is stored with edible roots,
and covered with such amazing quantities of sugar-maple, that they
would produce sugar enough for any number of inhabitants."[106]

Mr. Carver seems to have been, to say the least, rather an enthusiastic
admirer of nature; and although later travellers in the country of the
Naudowessies (Sioux) have not been able to find grouped within it all
the fruits and flowers of an Eden, yet that their lands lying on the
Mississippi, the St. Peter's, and the Red Rivers, produce a luxurious
vegetation, groves of fine timber separated {164} by open plains of the
rich wild grasses, and by lakes and streams of pure water well stored
with fish; that there are many valuable edible roots there: and the
whortleberry, blackberry, wild plum and crab-apple, other and later
travellers have seen and declared; so that no doubt can be entertained
that this talented and victorious tribe possess a very desirable  and
beautiful country. A revolted band of the Sioux called Osinipoilles,
live near the Rocky Mountains upon the Sascatchiwine river, a pleasant
champaign country, abounding in game. They subsist by the chase, and
the spoils of war. Their number is estimated to be eight thousand.
Their dwellings are neat conical tents of tanned buffalo skins.[107]

The Chippewyans or Chippeways, were supposed by Lewis and Clark to
inhabit the country lying between the 60th and 65th parallels of north
latitude, and 100° and 110° of west longitude.[108] Other authorities,
and I believe more correct, assert that they also occupy the head
waters of the Mississippi, Ottertail, and Leach, De Corbeau and Red
rivers, and Winnipeg lake. They are a numerous tribe, speak a copious
language, are timorous, vagrant, and selfish; stature rather low;
features coarse; hair {165} lank, and not unfrequently a sunburnt
brown; women more agreeable (and who can doubt the fact) than the men;
but have an awkward gait; which proceeds from their being accustomed,
nine months in the year, to wear snow shoes, and drag sledges of a
weight from two hundred to four hundred pounds. They are entirely
submissive to their husbands; and for very trifling causes are treated
with such cruelty as to produce death! These people betroth their
children when quite young; and when they arrive at puberty the ceremony
of marriage is performed; that is, the bridegroom pays the market price
for his bride, and takes her to his lodge, not "for better or for
worse," but to put her away and take another when he pleases. Plurality
of wives is customary among them. They generally wear the hair long.
The braves sometimes clip it in fantastic forms. The women always wear
it of great length, braided in two queues, and dangling down the back.
Jealous husbands sometimes despoil them of these tresses. Both sexes
make from one to four bars of lines upon the forehead or cheeks, by
drawing a thread dipped in the proper colour beneath the skin of those
parts.

{166} No people are more attentive to comfort in dress than the
Chippeways. It is composed of deer and fawn skins, dressed with the
hair on, for the winter, and without the hair for the summer wear.
The male wardrobe consists of shoes, leggings, frock and cap, &c. The
shoes are made in the usual moccasin form, save that they sometimes
use the green instead of the tanned hide. The leggings are made like
the legs of pantaloons unconnected by a waistband. They reach to the
waist; and are supported by a belt. Under the belt a small piece of
leather is drawn, which serves as an apron before and behind. The shoes
and leggings are sewed together. In the former are put quantities of
moose and reindeer hair; and additional pieces of leather as socks. The
frock or hunting shirt is in the form of a peasant's frock. When girded
around the waist it reaches to the middle of the thigh. The mittens
are sewed to the sleeves, or suspended by strings from the shoulders.
A kind of tippet surrounds the neck. The skin of the deer's head
furnishes a curious covering to the head; and a robe made of several
deer or fawn skins sewed together, covers the whole. This dress is worn
single or double, as circumstances suggest; but in {167} winter the
hair side of the undersuit is worn next the person, and that of the
outer one without. Thus arrayed, the Chippeway will lay himself down
on the ice, in the middle of a lake, and repose in comfort; and when
rested, and disencumbered of the snow-drifts which have covered him
while asleep, he mounts his snow shoes, and travels on without fear of
frosts or storm. The dress of the women differs from that of the men.
Their leggings are tied below the knee; and their frock or chemise
extends down to the ankle. Mothers make these garments large enough
about the shoulders to hold an infant; and when travelling carry their
little ones upon their backs next the skin.

Their arms and domestic apparatus, in addition to guns, &c., obtained
from the whites, are bows and arrows, fishing-nets, and lines made of
green deer-skin thongs, and nets of the same material for catching
the beaver, as he escapes from his lodge into the water; and sledges
and snow-shoes. The snow-shoes are of very superior workmanship. The
inner part of the frame is straight; the outer one curved; the ends are
brought to a point, and in front turned up. This frame done, they are
neatly placed {168} with light thongs of deer-skin. Their sledges are
made of red fir-tree boards, neatly polished and turned up in front.
The means of sustaining life in the country claimed by these Indians
are abundant; and if sufficient forethought were used in laying in food
for winter, they might live in comparative comfort. The woodless hills
are covered with a moss that sustains the deer and moose and reindeer;
and when boiled, forms a gelatinous substance very acceptable to the
human palate.[109] Their streams and lakes are stored with the greatest
abundance of valuable fish. But although more provident than any other
Indians on the continent, they often suffer severely in the dead of
winter, when, to prevent death from cold, they fly from their fishing
stations to their scanty woods.

They are superstitious in the extreme. Almost every action of their
lives is influenced by some whimsical notion. They believe in the
existence of a good and evil spirit, that rule in their several
departments over the fortunes of men; and in a state of future rewards
and punishments. They have an order of priests who administer the rites
of their religion--offer sacrifices at their solemn feasts, &c.[110]