“Who are you mourning for?” I asked; “is your brother or father scalped?”
“No; I mourned because I thought you were killed; Owl Bear told me you were.”
“You must not believe all you hear,” I said; “some Indians have crooked tongues. But come and spread your robe, and carry this gun and spoils of my first victim to the village, and there wash your face and bind up your finger.”
She did as I directed her, and departed.
As soon as we had collected all the trophies bequeathed us by our fallen foes, and gathered all our own dead, we moved back to the new camp. On our way, I exerted myself to the utmost to console the afflicted mourners. I told them that their friends were happy in the spirit land, where there were no enemies to fight, where all was everlasting contentment, and where they were happy in endless amusement. I said that in a few days I would avenge the fall of our warriors, and depart for that peaceful land myself.
I could plainly see that this last promise afforded them more satisfaction than all my other consoling remarks; but I disliked to see their horrid fashion of mourning, and my promise of future victory speedily washed their faces of their present grief; for a promise from me was confided in by all the tribe. There was, of course, no dancing, for we had lost too many warriors; but in the evening there was great visiting throughout the village, to talk over the events of the day, and hear the statements of those who had taken part in the battle. Long Hair came to the lodge of my father to congratulate me on my great feat in scaling the wall, and to talk of the victory of his people achieved through my valor. All who were present related the deeds they had performed. As each narrated his exploits, all listened with profound attention. While this was going on, my little wife, who sat nearby, crawled behind me, and, whispering in my ear, inquired if I had obtained any coos. These coos she inquired after are the same as counts in a game of billiards: the death of one warrior counts as one; of two warriors counts as two; every battle-axe or gun taken counts one to the victor’s merit. I said I had not, at which she looked aghast. But when the question was put to me by the chief shortly after, I answered “Eleven.” On this she administered eleven taps on my back with her finger, and again whispered, “Ah! I thought your tongue was crooked when you told me you had no coos.” All the coos are registered in the great medicine lodge in favor of the brave who wins them.
I trust that the reader does not suppose that I waded through these scenes of carnage and desolation without some serious reflections on the matter. Disgusted at the repeated acts of cruelty I witnessed, I often resolved to leave these wild children of the forest and return to civilized life; but before I could act upon my decision, another scene of strife would occur, and the Enemy of Horses was always the first sought for by the tribe. I had been uniformly successful so far; and how I had escaped, while scores of warriors had been stricken down at my side, was more than I could understand. I was well aware that many of my friends knew of the life I was leading, and I almost feared to think of the opinions they must form of my character. But, in justification, it may be urged that the Crows had never shed the blood of the white man during my stay in their camp, and I did not intend they ever should, if I could raise a voice to prevent it. They were constantly at war with tribes who coveted the scalps of the white man, but the Crows were uniformly faithful in their obligations to my race, and would rather serve than injure their white brethren without any consideration of profit.
In addition to this, Self-interest would whisper her counsel. I knew I could acquire the riches of Crœsus if I could but dispose of the valuable stock of peltry I had the means of accumulating. I required but an object in view to turn the attention of the Indians to the thousands of traps that were laid by to rust. I would occasionally use arguments to turn them from their unprofitable life, and engage them in peaceful industry. But I found the Indian would be Indian still, in spite of my efforts to improve him.
They would answer, “Our enemies steal our horses; we must fight and get them back again, or steal in turn. Without horses we can make no surrounds, nor could we, to protect our lives, fight our foes when they attack our villages.”
Of course these arguments were unanswerable. So long as they were surrounded with enemies, they must be prepared to defend themselves. The large majority of Indian troubles arise from their unrestrained appropriation of each other’s horses. It is their only branch of wealth; like the miser with his gold, their greed for horses cannot be satisfied. All their other wants are merely attended to from day to day; their need supplied, they look no farther; but their appetite for horses is insatiable: they are ever demanding more.
Mildrum and myself had a long conversation on the subject while he was smarting with the injury he received in leaping from the fort. He would say, “Beckwourth, I am pretty well used to this Indian life; there is a great deal in it that charms me. But when I think of my old Kentucky home — of father, mother, and other friends whom I tenderly love, and with whom I could be so happy, I wonder at the vagabond spirit that holds me here among these savages, fighting their battles, and risking my life and scalp, which I fairly suppose exceeds in value ten thousand of these bloodthirsty heathen. How, in the name of all that is sacred, can we reconcile ourselves to it? Why don’t we leave them?”
The medicine men held a council, and resolved to remove the village; the Great Spirit was displeased with the spot, and had therefore suffered all our warriors to be killed. We accordingly pulled up stakes and moved a short distance farther.
While we were busy moving, my little squaw angered me, and I drove her away. She not daring to disobey me, I saw no more of her until she supposed my anger was appeased. She then came to the lodge while I was conversing with my brothers, and, putting her childish head into the door, said humbly, “I know you are angry with me, but I want you to come and stay at our lodge to-night; we are outside the village, and my father and mother are afraid.”
“Yes,” said my brother, “she has no ears now; she is but a child; she will have ears when she grows older; you had better go and protect the old people.”
I told her to run home, and I would soon follow.
I went to the lodge accordingly. In the night I heard the snorting of horses, which were tied near the lodge door. I crept softly out and looked carefully around. I then crawled, without the least noise, out of the lodge, and caught sight of an Indian, who I knew was there for no good purpose. He was using the utmost precaution; he had a sharp-pointed stick, with which he raised the leaves that lay in his way, so that his feet might not crush them, and thus alarm the inmates of the lodge. Every step brought him nearer to the animals, who, with necks curved and ears erect, gave an occasional snort at the approach of the Indian. This would bring him to a halt. Then again he would bring his a stick into action, and prepare a place for another step, not mistrusting that he was approaching the threshold of death. The ropes were tied close to the lodge door, and to untie them he must approach within six feet of where I lay on the ground. I let him advance as near as I thought safe, when, with one bound, I grappled him, and gave the war-hoop. He was the hardest to hold that ever I had my arms around, but I had both his arms pinned in my embrace round his lithe and nimble body, and he could not release one so as to draw his knife. Instantly we were surrounded with fifty armed warriors; and when I saw a sufficient breastwork round about, I released my hold and stepped back. He was riddled with bullets in an instant, and fell without a cry.
His scalp sufficed to wash off the mourning-paint from every face in the village, and all was turned into mirth, although this general change in feeling did not restore the dismembered fingers or heal their voluntary wounds. Greater than ever was the Enemy of Horses, and I received a still more ennobling appellation, Shas-ka-o-hush-a, the Bobtail Horse. The village exhausted itself in showing its admiration of my exploit; and my single scalp was greeted with as much honor as if I had slaughtered a hundred of the enemy.
CHAPTER XV.
Short
Account of Pine Leaf, the Crow Heroine. —Twenty Days’ Battle with the Cheyennes. —Return of the Village to the west Side of the Mountains. —Letter from M’Kenzie —Visit to his Trading-post at the Mouth of the Yellow Stone.
IN connection with my Indian experience, I conceive it to be my duty to devote a few lines to one of the bravest women that ever lived, namely, Pine Leaf — in Indian, Bar-chee-am-pe. For an Indian, she possessed great intellectual powers. She was endowed with extraordinary muscular strength, with the activity of the cat and the speed of the antelope. Her features were pleasing, and her form symmetrical. She had lost a brother in the attack on our village before mentioned — a great brave, and her twin brother. He was a fine specimen of the race of red men, and bade fair to rise to distinction; but he was struck down in his strength, and Pine Leaf was left to avenge his death. She was at that time twelve years of age, and she solemnly vowed that she would never marry until she had killed a hundred of the enemy with her own hand. Whenever a war-party started, Pine Leaf was the first to volunteer to accompany them. Her presence among them caused much amusement to the old veterans; but if she lacked physical strength, she always rode the fleetest horses, and none of the warriors could outstrip her. All admired her for her ambition, and as she advanced in years, many of the braves grew anxious for the speedy accomplishment of her vow. She had chosen my party to serve in, and when I engaged in the fiercest struggles, no one was more promptly at my side than file young heroine. She seemed incapable of fear; and when she arrived at womanhood, could fire a gun without flinching, and use the Indian weapons with as great dexterity as the most accomplished warrior.
I began to feel more than a common attachment toward her. Her intelligence charmed me, and her modest and becoming demeanor singled her out from her sex. One day, while riding leisurely along, I asked her to marry me provided we both returned safe. She flashed her dark eye upon mine, “You have too many already,” she said. “Do you suppose I would break my vow to the Great Spirit? He sees and knows all things; he would be angry with me, and would not suffer me to live to avenge my brother’s death.”
I told her that my medicine said that I must marry her, and then I could never be vanquished or killed in battle. She laughed and said, “Well, I will marry you.”
“When we return?”
“No; but when the pine-leaves turn yellow.”
I reflected that it would soon be autumn, and regarded her promise as valid. A few days afterward it occurred to my mind that pine-leaves do not turn yellow, and I saw I had been practiced upon.
When I again spoke to her on the subject, I said, “Pine Leaf, you promised to marry me when the pine-leaves should turn yellow: it has occurred to me that they never grow yellow.”
She returned no answer except a hearty laugh.
“Am I to understand that you never intend to marry me?” I inquired.
“Yes, I will marry you,” she said, with a coquettish smile.
“But when?”
“When you shall find a red-headed Indian.”
I saw I advanced nothing by importuning her, and I let the matter rest. However, to help her on with her vow, I never killed an Indian if she was by to perform it for me, thinking that when her number were immolated there might be better chance of pressing my suit.
We frequently shifted our camping-ground, in order to keep up with the buffalo and furnish our horses with sufficient grass, for we had such an immense number that the prairie round our lodges in a few days had the appearance of a closely-mown meadow. Finally, we removed to the western side of the mountain again, and encamped on Little Horn River, one of the sources of the Yellow Stone. Shortly after our encampment, we found there was a village of Cheyennes about twelve miles distant, and an incessant warfare was maintained between the two villages for twenty days. Sometimes they would take three or four Crow scalps; in return, our party would retaliate by taking as many of theirs. Thus they went on, with varying fortune, during the whole twenty days.
I had never been engaged in these skirmishes; but one evening, I, with three others, among whom was Yellow Belly, resolved to go on an adventure. Accordingly, we started for the Cheyenne, arriving there the next morning, and unhesitatingly entered their village while the inmates were quietly reposing. After passing through one quarter of their village, we saw an Indian approaching, who, on perceiving us, wheeled his horse to escape. I shot an arrow into his back, but, before he fell, I rode up, cut him down with my battle-axe, and rode on. One of our party, not wishing to lose his scalp, dismounted to take it. In doing so he lost his horse, which followed us, leaving his rider on foot close to the enemy’s village, whence the aroused warriors were issuing like hornets. Perceiving his danger, I rode back, and took him up behind me. We had to run for it; but we made good our escape, driving home before us seven horses captured from the enemy. This was considered a great achievement by our Crow brethren, and they again washed their faces. The enemy now charged on our village, killing six Crows, among whom was a brother-in-law of mine. His relatives appealed to me to avenge them. Supposing that the enemy would renew the attack the next day, I selected one hundred and thirty warriors, all well mounted, to waylay them. We posted ourselves midway between the belligerent villages, but the Cheyennes had passed within a few hundred yards before we were in ambush. Being there, the idea occurred to me to await their return. On their repulse from the village we would spring up and cut off their retreat, and, I made no doubt, succeed in killing a great number of their warriors.
It fell out as I had expected. The Crows drove them back with a loss to the enemy of four; and when they neared us, their horses were badly jaded, and our friends hotly in pursuit. We sprung up, cutting off their retreat, and they, sorely pressed in their rear, seeing our party in front cutting down right and left, became panic-struck, and fled in all directions.
We took sixteen scalps, with the horses and equipments of the fallen warriors, and returned home in triumph. This made twenty scalps taken in one day, which was considered by the Crows a glorious victory, and the scalp-dance was performed with unusual vivacity. In this battle the heroine was by my side, and fought with her accustomed audacity. I counted five coos, and she three, for three enemies killed with her lance. The Cheyennes, disconcerted with their misadventure, moved their village away from the Crow territory.
We also took up our line of march, and moved on to Clarke’s Fork, a branch of the Yellow Stone, where we found abundance of buffalo and good grass. While encamped here I received a letter from Mr. M’Kenzie, written at Fort Union, at the mouth of the Yellow Stone, where he desired me to see him. It was delivered to me by Mr. Winters, who, in company with one man, had found his way unharmed. M’Kenzie wished me to see him immediately on business of importance, as he wished, through my influence, to establish a trade with the Crows.
On communicating my intention of performing the journey, all expostulated at my going. I gave them my positive word that I would return in eighteen suns if not killed on the way. It was a long and hazardous journey to undertake, having to traverse a distance of seven hundred and sixty miles, exposed to numerous bands of hostile Indians. I succeeded in reaching the fort in safety, where I found M’Kenzie with a great stock of miscellaneous goods. I arrived late in the afternoon, dispatched my business with him hastily, and started on my return in the morning. I took ten pack-horses laden with goods to trade with the Indians, in addition to which several boats were freighted and sent to me up the Yellow Stone. Two men accompanied me to the Crow country. We had no trouble on our way until we arrived within a few miles of our village (as I supposed it), when, as we were marching on, I remarked something unfamiliar in the appearance of the place. I ordered the two men to turn their animals up a little valley close by, while I took a nearer look at the village. A closer inspection confirmed my mistake; I saw the lodges were painted a different color from our own. I followed the packhorses, and found a trail which led to the Crow village, and concealed from the observation of the
village we had approached. Soon after entering the trail, I discovered the fresh tracks of five Indians, going the direction that we were. I halted the pack-horses, and rode on to get a sight of them. At a short distance I perceived the five men, and, unobserved by them, I rode on and entered a low place until I approached within a few rods of them. I took a short survey of them, and concluded that they must be enemies belonging to the village we had just left. They were on foot, and I conceived myself a match for the whole five. I leveled my rifle, and was taking aim, when my horse moved his head and disconcerted any sight. I tried again, with precisely the same result. I then dismounted, and advanced two or three steps nearer my object. As I was about to fire, having the rein on my arm, the horse made another motion, thus spoiling my aim for the third time. At that moment one of them made a yawning expression in the Crow language, and I was so terrified at his narrow escape that the rifle dropped from my hand. I called to them, telling them the danger they had escaped.
“Why,” said they, “you would not have attacked five of us?”
“Yes,” I said, “and would have killed every one of you, had you been enemies.”
They then informed me that they had lost two men that day near the village of the Black Feet, who were now, beyond doubt, dancing over their scalps. I did not wait to hear more, but directed them to return to my horses and assist the men in getting on to the Crow village as soon as possible. I rode forward to make my arrival known.
My return was welcomed with the liveliest demonstrations of joy by the whole tribe. But I delayed no time in ceremonial. I called a council forthwith, and informed them that the Black Feet were encamped ten miles distant, that two of our warriors had that day fallen by their hands, and that we must go and avenge their death. The chief assented; but, as a preliminary, directed me and another to count their lodges that night. I undertook the dangerous task, although extremely fatigued with my long journey. We succeeded in the object of our expedition, and found their lodges outnumbered ours by one. There are, as a general thing, from four to six warriors to a lodge; the Black Foot village comprised two hundred and thirty-three lodges; hence we could form a pretty accurate estimate of the number of warriors we had to contend with.
The Life and Adventures of James P Beckwourth Page 16