{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3060", "width": "1987", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Class.\\nBook.\\nXsao.\\nD\\nT. SA\\nCopyTightN\\nC0I%1^1CHT DEPOSm", "height": "3010", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3010", "width": "1886", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2992", "width": "1807", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "iFrancis ^arkman s Smorfes,\\nNEW LIBRARY EDITION.\\nVol. xn.\\nI", "height": "2983", "width": "1895", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "FRANCIS PARKMAN S WORKS.\\nWcbi Eibvarg ISliition.\\nPioneers of France in the Kew World I vol.\\nThe Jesuits in North America I vol.\\nLa Salle and the Discovery of the Great West I vol.\\nThe Old Regfime in Canada I vol.\\nCount Frontenac and Kew France under Louis XIV. I vol.\\nA Half Century of Conflict 2 vols.\\nMontcalm and Wolfe 2 vols.\\nThe Conspiracy of Pontiac and the Indian War after\\nthe Conquest of Canada 2 vols.\\nThe Oregon Trail I vol.", "height": "2992", "width": "1807", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2983", "width": "1895", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2992", "width": "1807", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "Half sliding, half plunging, down went the little\\nmare.\\nDrawn by Frederic Remington.\\nThe Oregon Trail, Froniispiece.", "height": "2878", "width": "1766", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0011.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "THE\\nOREGON TRAIL:\\nSKETCHES\\nOF\\nPRAIRIE AND ROCKY-MOUNTAIN LIFE.\\nBY\\nFRANCIS PARKMAN.\\nBOSTON:\\nLITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPA^.\\n1899.", "height": "2983", "width": "1895", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0013.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "l_ibj*ry of Congress\\nIm Copies Received\\nS\u00c2\u00a3\u00e2\u0082\u00acON[ COf y.\\nDellvwetl to\\nORDER DIVISION.\\nI-WO COPIES RECEIVEO.\\nL/bracy of C0Bgeati||\\nOfflffd of tli\u00c2\u00ab\\nAPR 1 6 1900\\nKofflsUr of Copyrl^ht^\\nT3 2. I A\\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the j-ear 1872, by\\nFrancis Pakkman,\\nIn the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.\\nCopyrhjJd, 1S9S, 1S97, 180S,\\nBy Little, Brown, and Company.\\nSSnibcrsitg Press:\\nJohn Wilson and Son, Camukidge, U.S.A.", "height": "2992", "width": "1807", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0014.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "TO\\nTHE COMRADE OF A SUMMER\\nAND\\nTHE FRIEKD OF A LIFETIME,\\nQUINCY ADAMS SHAW.", "height": "2983", "width": "1895", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0015.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2992", "width": "1807", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0016.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "The Oregon Trail is the title undei \u00e2\u0096\u00a0which this\\nbook first appeared. It was afterwards changed by\\nthe publisher, and is now restored to the form in which\\nit originally stood in the Knickerbocker Magazine^\\nAs the early editions were printed in my absence, I\\ndid not correct the proofs, a process doubly neces-\\nsary, since the book was written from dictation. The\\nnecessary corrections have been made in the present\\nedition.", "height": "2983", "width": "1895", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0017.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2992", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0018.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "PREFACE\\nTO THE EDITION OF 1892.\\nIn the preface to the fourth edition of this\\nbook, printed in 1872, I spoke of the changes\\nthat had ah^eady come over the Far West. Since\\nthat time change has grown to metamorpho-\\nsis. For Indian teepees, with their trophies of\\nbow, lance, shield, and dangling scalp-locks, we\\nhave towns and cities, resorts of health and\\npleasure seekers, with an agreeable society, Paris\\nfashions, the magazines, the latest poem, and the\\nlast new novel. The sons of civilization, drawn\\nby the fascinations of a fresher and bolder life,\\nthronged to the western wilds in multitudes\\nwhich blighted the charm that had lured them.\\nThe buffalo is gone, and of all his millions\\nnothing is left but bones. Tame cattle and\\nfences of barbed wire have supplanted his vast\\nherds and boundless grazing grounds. Those\\ndiscordant serenaders, the wolves that howled at", "height": "2983", "width": "1891", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0019.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "X PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1892.\\nevening about the traveller s camp-fire, have suc-\\ncumbed to arsenic and hushed their savage music.\\nThe wild Indian is turned into an ugly caricature\\nof his conqueror; and that which made him\\nromantic, terrible, and hateful, is in large meas-\\nure scourged out of him. The slow cavalcade of\\nhorsemen armed to the teeth has disappeared\\nbefore parlor cars and the effeminate comforts\\nof modern travel.\\nThe rattlesnakes have grown bashful and re-\\ntiring. The mountain lion shrinks from the face\\nof man, and even grim Old Ephraim, the\\ngrizzly bear, seeks the seclusion of his dens and\\ncaverns. It is said that he is no longer his\\nformer self, having found, by an intelligence not\\nhitherto set to his credit, that his ferocious\\nstrength is no match for a repeating rifle with\\nwhich discovery he is reported to have grown\\ndiffident, and abated the truculence of his more\\nprosperous days. One may be permitted to\\ndoubt if the bloodthirsty old savage has really\\nexperienced a change of heart and before invit-\\ning him to single combat, the ambitious tender-\\nfoot, though the proud possessor of a Winchester\\nwith sixteen cartridges in the magazine, would\\n1 Alias Old Caleb and Old Enoch.", "height": "2992", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0020.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1892. Xl\\ndo well to consider not only the quality of liis\\nweapon, but also that of his own nerves.\\nHe who feared neither bear, Indian, nor devil,\\nthe all-daring and all-end iiring trapper, belongs\\nto the past, or lives only in a few gray-bearded\\nsurvivals. In his stead we have the cowboy,\\nand even his star begins to wane.\\nThe Wild West is tamed, and its savage charms\\nhave withered. If this book can help to keep\\ntheir memory alive, it will have done its part.\\nIt has found a powerful helper in the pencil of\\nMr. Remington, whose pictures are as full of\\ntruth as of spirit, for they are the work of one\\nwho knew the prairies and the mountains before\\nirresistible commonplace had subdued them.\\nBoston, 16 September, 1892.", "height": "2983", "width": "1891", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0021.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2992", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0022.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.\\nThe following sketches first appeared in 1847.\\nA summer s adventures of two youths just out\\nof college might well enough be allowed to fall\\ninto oblivion, were it not that a certain interest\\nwill always attach to the record of that which\\nhas passed away never to return. This book is\\nthe reflection of forms and conditions of life\\nwhich have ceased, in great measure, to exist.\\nIt mirrors the image of an irrevocable past.\\nI remember that, as we rode by the foot of\\nPike s Peak, when for a fortnight we met no\\nface of man, my companion remarked, in a tone\\nanything but complacent, that a time would\\ncome when those plains would be a grazing\\ncountry, the buffalo give place to tame cattle,\\nfarmhouses be scattered along the water-courses,\\nand wolves, bears, and Indians be numbered\\namong the things that were. We condoled with\\neach other on so melancholy a prospect, but we\\nlittle thouo-ht what the future had m store. We", "height": "2983", "width": "1891", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0023.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "XIV PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION\\nknew that there was more or less gold m the\\nseams of those untrodden mountams; but we\\ndid not foresee that it would build cities in the\\nwaste and plant hotels and gambling-houses\\namong the haunts of the grizzly bear. We knew\\nthat a few fanatical outcasts were groping their\\nway across the plains to seek an asylum from\\nGentile persecution but we did not imagine that\\nthe polygamous hordes of Mormon would rear a\\nswarming Jerusalem in the bosom of solitude\\nitself. We knew that, more and more, year\\nafter year, the trains of emigrant wagons would\\ncreep in slow procession towards barbarous Ore-\\ngon or wild and distant California but we did\\nnot dream how Commerce and Gold would breed\\nnations along the Pacific, the disenchanting\\nscreech of the locomotive break the spell of\\nweird mysterious mountains, woman s rights\\ninvade the fastnesses of the Arapahoes, and de-\\nspairing savagery, assailed in front and rear,\\nvail its scalp-locks and feathers before triumph-\\nant commonplace. We were no prophets to\\nforesee all this and, had we foreseen it, per-\\nhaps some perverse regrets might have tempered\\nthe ardor of our rejoicing.\\nThe wild cavalcade that defiled with me down\\nthe gorges of the Black Hills, with its paint and", "height": "2992", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0024.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. xv\\nwar-plumes, fluttering trophies and savage em-\\nbroidery, bows, arrows, lances, and shields, Avill\\nnever be seen again. Those who formed it have\\nfound bloody graves, or a ghastlier burial in the\\nmaws of wolves. The Indian of to-day, armed\\nwith a revolver and crowned with an old hat\\ncased, possibly, in trousers or muffled in a taw-\\ndry shirt, is an Indian still, but an Indian\\nshorn of the picturesqueness which was his most\\nconspicuous merit.\\nThe mountain trapper is no more, and the\\ngrim romance of his wild, hard life is a memory\\nof the past.\\nAs regards the motives which sent us to the\\nmountains, our liking for them would have suf-\\nficed but, in my case, another incentive was\\nadded. I went in great measure as a student,\\nto prepare for a literary undertaking of which\\nthe plan was already formed, but which, from\\nthe force of inexorable circumstances, is still but\\nhalf accomplished. It was this that prompted\\nsome proceedings on my part, which, without a\\nfixed purpose in view, might be charged with\\nyouthful rashness. My business was observa-\\ntion, and I was willing to pay dearly for the\\nopportunity of exercising it.\\nTwo or three years ago, I made a visit to our", "height": "2956", "width": "1855", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0025.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "xvi PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.\\nguide, the brave and true-hearted Henry Chatil-\\nIon, at the town of Carondelet, near St. Louis.\\nIt was more than twenty years since we had\\nmet. Time hung heavy on his hands, as usual\\nwith old mountain-men married and established\\nhis hair was touched with gray, and his face and\\nfigure showed tokens of early hardship but the\\nmanly simplicity of his character was unchanged.\\nHe told me that the Indians with whom I had\\nbeen domesticated, a band of the hated Sioux,\\nhad nearly all been killed in fights with the\\nwhite men.\\nThe faithful Deslauriers is, I believe, still liv-\\ning on the frontier of Missouri. The hunter\\nRaymond perished in the snow during Fremont s\\ndisastrous passage of the mountains m the win-\\nter of 1848.\\nB08TON, March 30, 1872.", "height": "2983", "width": "1789", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0026.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "co:n^te:n^ts.\\nChapter Page\\nI. The Frontier 3\\nII. Breaking the Ice 14\\nIII. Fort Leavenworth 28\\nIV. Jumping Off 33\\nV. The Big Blue 47\\nVI. The Platte and the Desert 64\\nVII. The Buffalo 81\\nVIIL Taking French Leave 100\\nIX. Scenes at Fort Laramie 120\\nX, The War-parties 139\\nXI. Scenes at the Camp 169\\nXII. Ill-luck 193\\nXIII. Hunting Indians 203\\nXIV. The Ogillallah Village 233\\nXV. The Hunting Camp 261\\nXVI. The Trappers 292\\nXVII. The Black Hills 305\\nXVIII. A Mountain Hunt 310\\nXIX. Passage of the IMountains 326\\nXX. The Lonely Journey 346", "height": "2956", "width": "1823", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0027.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "xviii CONTENTS.\\nCuAi-TER Page\\nXXI. The Pueblo and Bent s Fokt 371\\nXXII. Tete Rouge, the Volunteer 381\\nXXIII. Indian Alakms 388\\nXXIV. The Chase 402\\nXXV. The Buffalo Camp 414\\nXXVI. Down the Arkansas 434\\nXXVII. The Settlements 456\\nINDEX 469", "height": "2992", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0028.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "THE OREGON TRAIL.", "height": "2956", "width": "1823", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0029.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2992", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0030.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nCHAPTER I.\\nTHE FRONTIER.\\nLast spring, 1846, was a busy season in the city\\nof St. Louis. Not only were emigrants from every\\npart of the country preparing for the journey to\\nOregon and California, but an unusual number of\\ntraders were making ready their wagons and outfits\\nfor Santa F^. The hotels were crowded, and the\\ngunsmiths and saddlers were kept constantly at work\\nin providing arms and equipments for the different\\nparties of travellers. Steamboats were leaving the\\nlevee and passing up the Missouri, crowded with\\npassengers on their way to the frontier.\\nIn one of these, the Radnor, since snagged and\\nlost, my friend and relative, Quincy Adams Shaw,\\nand myself, left St. Louis on the twenty-eighth of\\nApril, on a tour of curiosity and amusement to the\\nRocky Mountains. The boat was loaded until the\\nwater broke alternately over her guards. Her upper-\\ndeck was covered with large wagons of a peculiar\\nform, for the Santa F^ trade, and her hold was", "height": "2983", "width": "1855", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0031.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "4 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ncrammed with goods for the same destination. There\\nwere also the equipments and provisions of a party of\\nOregon emigrants, a band of mules and horses, piles\\nof saddles and harness, and a multitude of nonde-\\nscript articles, indispensable on the prairies. Almost\\nhidden in this medley was a small French cart,\\nof the sort very appropriately called a mule-killer,\\nbeyond the frontiers, and not far distant a tent,\\ntogether with a miscellaneous assortment of boxes and\\nbarrels. The whole equipage was far from prepos-\\nsessing in its appearance yet, such as it was, it was\\ndestined to a long and arduous journey on which the\\npersevering reader will accompany it.\\nThe passengers on board the Radnor corre-\\nsponded with her freight. In her cabin were Santa\\nF^ traders, gamblers, speculators, and adventurers of\\nvarious descriptions, and her steerage was crowded\\nwith Oregon emigrants, mountain men, negroes,\\nand a party of Kanzas Indians, who had been on a\\nvisit to St. Louis.\\nThus laden, the boat struggled upward for seven\\nor eight days against the rapid current of the\\nMissouri, grating upon snags, and hanging for two\\nor three hours at a time upon sand-bars. We entered\\nthe mouth of the Missouri in a drizzling rain, but the\\nweather soon became clear, and showed distinctly\\nthe broad and turbid river, with its eddies, its sand-\\nbars, its ragged islands and forest-covered shores.\\nThe Missouri is constantly changing its course, wear-\\ning ^way its banks on one side, while it forms new", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0032.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "THE FRONTIER, 5\\nones on the other. Its channel is continually shift-\\ning. Islands are formed, and then washed away,\\nand while the old forests on one side are undermined\\nand swept off, a young growth springs up from the\\nnew soil upon the other. With all these changes,\\nthe water is so charged with mud and sand that, in\\nspring, it is perfectly opaque, and in a few minutes\\ndeposits a sediment an inch thick in the bottom of a\\ntumbler. The river was now high; but when we\\ndescended in the autumn it was fallen very low, and\\nall the secrets of its treacherous shallows were ex-\\nposed to view. It was frightful to see the dead and\\nbroken trees, thick-set as a military abattis, firmly\\nimbedded in the sand, and all pointing down stream,\\nready to impale any unhappy steamboat that at high\\nwater should pass over them.\\nIn five or six days we began to see signs of the\\ngreat western movement that was taking place.\\nParties of emigrants, with their tents and wagons,\\nwere encamped on open spots near the bank, on their\\nway to the common rendezvous at Independence.\\nOn a rainy day, near sunset, we reached the landing\\nof this place, which is some miles from the river, on\\nthe extreme frontier of Missouri. The scene was\\ncharacteristic, for here were represented at one view\\nthe most remarkable features of this wild and enter-\\nprising region. On the muddy shore stood some\\nthirty or forty dark slavish-looking Spaniards, gazing\\nstupidly out from beneath their broad hats. The}^\\nwere attached to one of the Santa Fd companies.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0033.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "6 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwliose wagons were crowded together on the banks\\nabove. In the midst of these, crouching over a\\nsmouldering fire, was a group of Indians, belonging\\nto a remote Mexican tribe. One or two French\\nhunters from the mountains, with their long hair and\\nbuckskin dresses, were looking at the boat; and\\nseated on a log close at hand were three men, with\\nrifles lying across their knees. The foremost of\\nthese, a tall, strong figure, with a clear blue eye and\\nan open, intelligent face, might very well represent\\nthat race of restless and intrepid pioneers whose axes\\nand rifles have opened a path from the Alleghanies\\nto the western prairies. He was on his way to\\nOregon, probably a more congenial field to him than\\nany that now remained on this side of the great\\nplains.\\nEarly on the next morning we reached Kanzas,\\nabout five hundred miles from the mouth of the\\nMissouri. Here we landed, and leaving our equip-\\nments in charge of Colonel Chick, whose log-house\\nwas the substitute for a tavern, Ave set out in a wagon\\nfor Westport, where we hoped to procure mules and\\nhorses for the journey.\\nIt was a remarkably fresh and beautiful May morn-\\ning. The woods, through which the miserable road\\nconducted us, were lighted by the bright sunshine\\nand enlivened by a multitude of birds. We overtook\\non the way our late fellow-travellers, the Kanzas\\nIndians, who, adorned with all their finery, were\\nproceeding homeward at a round pace and whatever", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0034.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "THE FRONTIER. 7\\nthey might have seemed on board the boat, they made\\na very striking and picturesque feature in the forest\\nlandscape.\\nWestport was full of Indians, whose little shaggy\\nponies were tied by dozens along the houses and\\nfences. Sacs and Foxes, with shaved heads and\\npainted faces, Shawanoes and Delawares, fluttering\\nin calico frocks and turbans, Wyandots dressed like\\nwhite men, and a few wretched Kanzas wrapped in\\nold blankets, were strolling about the streets, or\\nlounging in and out of the shops and houses.\\nAs I stood at the door of the tavern, I saw a\\nremarkable-looking personage coming up the street.\\nHe had a ruddy face, garnished with the stumps of a\\nbristly red beard and moustache on one side of his\\nhead was a round cap with a knob at the top, such\\nas Scottish laborers sometimes wear; his coat was of\\na nondescript form, and made of a gray Scotch plaid,\\nwith the fringes hanging all about it; he wore trousers\\nof coarse homespun, and hob-nailed shoes; and to\\ncomplete his equipment, a little black pipe was stuck\\nin one corner of his mouth. In this curious attire, I\\nrecognized Captain C of the British army, who,\\nwith his brother, and Mr. R an English gentle-\\nman, was bound on a hunting expedition across the\\ncontinent. I had seen the captain and his compan-\\nions at St. Louis. They had now been for some time\\nat Westport, making preparations for their departure,\\nand waiting for a reinforcement, since they were too\\nfew in number to attempt it alone. They might, it", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0035.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "8 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nis true, have joined some of the parties of emigrants\\nwho were on the point of setting out for Oregon and\\nCalifornia but they professed great disinclination to\\nhave any connection with the Kentucky fellows.\\nThe captain now urged it upon us that we should\\njoin forces and proceed to the mountains in company.\\nFeeling no greater partiality for the society of the\\nemigrants than they did, we thought the arrangement\\na good one, and consented to it. Our future fellow-\\ntravellers had installed themselves in a little log-\\nhouse, where we found them surrounded by saddles,\\nharness, guns, pistols, telescopes, knives, and, in\\nshort, their complete appointments for the prairie.\\nR who had a taste for natural history, sat at\\na table stuffing a woodpecker; the brother of the\\ncaptain, who was an Irishman, was splicing a trail-\\nrope on the floor. The captain pointed out, with\\nmuch complacency, the different articles of their\\noutfit. You see, said he, that we are all old\\ntravellers. I am convinced that no party ever went\\nupon the prairie better provided. The hunter whom\\nthey had employed, a surly-looking Canadian, named\\nSorel, and their muleteer, an American ruffian from\\nSt. Louis, were lounging about the building. In a\\nlittle loof stable close at hand were their horses and\\nmules, selected with excellent judgment by the\\ncaptain.\\nWe left them to complete their arrangements, while\\nwe pushed our own to all convenient speed. The\\nemigrants, for whom our friends professed such con-", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0036.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "THE FROXTIER. 9\\ntempt, were encamiDed on the prairie about eight or\\nten miles distant, to the number of a tliousand or\\nmore, and new parties were constantly passing out\\nfrom Independence to join them. They were in\\ngreat confusion, holding meetings, passing resolu-\\ntions, and drawing up regulations, but unable to\\nunite in the choice of leaders to conduct them across\\nthe prairie. Being at leisure one day, I rode over\\nto Independence. The town was crowded. A mul-\\ntitude of shops had sprung up to furnish the emi-\\ngrants and Santa Fe traders with necessaries for\\ntheir journey and there was an incessant hammering\\nand banging from a dozen blacksmiths sheds, where\\nthe heavy wagons were being repaired, and the horses\\nand oxen shod. The streets were thronged with\\nmen, horses, and mules. While I was in the town, a\\ntrain of emigrant wagons from Illinois passed through,\\nto join the camp on the prairie, and stopped in the\\nprincipal street. A multitude of healthy children s\\nfaces were peeping out from under the covers of the\\nwagons. Here and there a buxom damsel was seated\\non horseback, holding over her sunburnt face an old\\numbrella or a parasol, once gaudy enough, but now\\nmiserably faded. The men, very sober-looking coun-\\ntrymen, stood about their oxen; and as I passed I\\nnoticed three old fellows, who, with their long whips\\nin their hands, were zealously discussing the doctrine\\nof regeneration. The emigrants, however, are not\\nall of this stamp. Among them are some of the\\nvilest outcasts in the country. I have often per-", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0037.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "10 THE orp:gon trail.\\nplexed myself to divine the various motives that give\\nimpulse to this migration; but whatever they may\\nbe, whether an insane hope of a better condition in\\nlife, or a desire of shaking off restraints of law and\\nsociety, or mere restlessness, certain it is, that mul-\\ntitudes bitterly repent the journey, and, after they\\nhave reached the land of promise, are happy enough\\nto escape from it.\\nIn the course of seven or eight days we had brought\\nour preparations nearly to a close. Meanwhile our\\nfriends had completed theirs, and, becoming tired of\\nWestport, they told us that they would set out in\\nadvance, and wait at the crossing of the Kanzas till\\nwe should come up. Accordingly R and the\\nmuleteer went forward with the wagon and tent,\\nwhile the captain and his brother, together with\\nSorel, and a trapper named Boisverd, who had joined\\nthem, followed with the band of horses. The com-\\nmencement of the journey was ominous, for the\\ncaptain was scarcely a mile from Westport, riding\\nalong in state fit the head of his party, leading his\\nintended buffalo horse by a rope, when a tremendous\\nthunder-storm came on and drenched them all to the\\nskin. They hurried on to reach the place, about\\nseven miles off, where R was to have had the\\ncamp in readiness to receive them. But this prudent\\nperson, when he saw the storm approaching, had\\nselected a sheltered glade in the woods where he\\npitched his tent, and was sipping a comfortable cup\\nof coffee while the captain galloped for miles beyond", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0038.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "THE FRONTIER. 11\\nthrough the rain to look for him. At length the\\nstorm cleared away, and the sharp-eyed trapper suc-\\nceeded in discovering his tent; R had by this\\ntime finished his coffee, and was seated on a buffalo-\\nrobe smoking his pipe. The captain was one of the\\nmost easy-tempered men in existence, so he bore his\\nill-luck with great composure, shared the dregs of\\nthe coffee with his brother, and lay down to sleep in\\nhis wet clothes.\\nWe ourselves had our share of the deluge. We\\nwere leading a pair of mules to Kanzas when the\\nstorm broke. Such sharp and incessant flashes of\\nlightning, such stunning and continuous thunder, I\\nhad never known before. The woods were completely\\nobscured by the diagonal sheets of rain that fell with\\na heavy roar, and rose in spray from the ground, and\\nthe streams swelled so rapidly that we could hardly\\nford them. At length, looming through the rain, we\\nsaw the log-house of Colonel Chick, who received us\\nwith his usual bland hospitality; while his wife,\\nwho, though a little soured and stiffened by a long\\ncourse of camp-meetings, was not behind him in\\ngoodwill, supplied us with the means of bettering our\\ndrenched and bedraggled condition. The storm clear-\\ning away at about sunset opened a noble prospect\\nfrom the porch of the colonel s house, which stands\\nupon a high hill. The sun streamed from the break-\\ning clouds upon the swift and angiy Missouri, and\\non the vast expanse of forest that stretched from its\\nbanks back to the distant bluffs.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0039.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "12 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nReturning on the next day to Westport, we received\\na message from the captain, who had ridden back to\\ndeliver it in person, but finding that we were in\\nKanzas, had intrusted it with an acquaintance of his\\nnamed Vogel, who kept a small grocery and liquor\\nshop. Whiskey, by the way, circulates more freely in\\nWestport than is altogether safe in a place where\\nevery man carries a loaded pistol in his pocket. As\\nwe passed this establishment we saw Vogel s broad\\nGerman face thrust from his door. He said he had\\nsomething to tell us, and invited us to take a dram.\\nNeither his liquor nor his message was very pala-\\ntable. The captain had returned to give us notice\\nthat R who assumed the direction of his party,\\nhad determined upon another route from that agreed\\nupon between us; and instead of taking the course\\nof the traders, had resolved to pass northward by\\nFort Leavenworth, and follow the path marked out\\nby the dragoons in their expedition of last summer.\\nTo adopt such a plan without consulting us, we\\nlooked upon as a high-handed proceeding; but sup-\\npressing our dissatisfaction as well as we could, we\\nmade up our minds to join them at Fort Leaven-\\nworth, where they were to wait for us.\\nAccordingly, our preparation being now complete,\\nwe attempted one fine morning to begin our journey.\\nThe first step was an unfortunate one. No sooner\\nwere our animals put in harness than the shaft-mule\\nreared and plunged, burst ropes and straps, and\\nnearly flung the cart into the Missouri. Finding", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0040.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "THE FRONTIER. 13\\nher wholly uncontrollable, we exchanged her for\\nanother, with which we were furnished by our friend\\nMr. Boone, of Westport, a grandson of Daniel Boone,\\nthe pioneer. This foretaste of prairie experience was\\nvery soon followed by another. Westport was scarcely\\nout of sight when we encountered a deep muddy\\ngully, of a species that afterward became but too\\nfamiliar to us, and here for the space of an hour or\\nmore the cart stuck fast.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0041.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER II.\\nBREAKING THE ICE.\\nEmerging from the mud-holes of Westport, we\\npursued our way for some time along the narrow\\ntrack, in the checkered sunshine and shadow of the\\nwoods, till at length, issuing into the broad light,\\nwe left behind us the farthest outskirts of the great\\nforest, that once spread from the western plains to\\nthe shore of the Atlantic. Looking over an inter-\\nvening belt of bushes, we saw the green, ocean-like\\nexpanse of prairie, stretching swell beyond swell to\\nthe horizon.\\nIt was a mild, calm spring day; a day when one\\nis more disposed to musing and revery than to action,\\nand the softest part of his nature is apt to gain the\\nupper hand. I rode in advance of the party, as we\\npassed through the bushes, and, as a nook of green\\ngrass offered a strong temptation, I dismounted and\\nlay down there. All the trees and saplings were in\\nflower, or budding into fresh leaf; the red clusters of\\nthe maple-blossoms and the rich flowers of the Indian\\napple were there in profusion; and I was half in-\\nclined to regret leaving behind the land of gardens for\\nthe rude and stern scenes of the prairie and the\\nmountains.", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0042.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "BREAKING THE ICE. 15\\nMeanwhile the party came in sight out of the\\nbushes. Foremost rode Henry Chatillon, our guide\\nand hunter, a fine athletic figure, mounted on a\\nhardy gray Wyandot pony. He wore a white blanket-\\ncoat, a broad hat of felt, moccasons, and trousers of\\ndeer-skin, ornamented along the seams with rows of\\nlong fringes. His knife was stuck in his belt; his\\nbullet-pouch and powder-horn hung at his side, and\\nhis rifle lay before him, resting against the high\\npommel of his saddle, which, like all his equipments,\\nhad seen hard service, and was much the worse for\\nwear. Shaw followed close, mounted on a little\\nsorrel horse, and leading a larger animal by a rope.\\nHis outfit, which resembled mine, had been provided\\nwith a view to use rather than ornament. It con-\\nsisted of a plain, black Spanish saddle, with holsters\\nof heavy pistols, a blanket rolled up behind, and the\\ntrail-rope attached to his horse s neck hanging coiled\\nin front. He carried a double-barrelled smooth-\\nbore, while I had a rifle of some fifteen pounds\\nweight. At that time our attire, though far from\\nelegant, bore some marks of civilization, and offered\\na very favorable contrast to the inimitable shabbiness\\nof our appearance on the return journey. A red\\nflannel shirt, belted around the waist like a frock,\\nthen constituted our upper garment; moccasons had\\nsupplanted our failing boots; and the remaining\\nessential portion of our attire consisted of an extra-\\nordinary article, manufactured by a squaw out of\\nsmoked buckskin. Our muleteer, Deslauriers, brought", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0043.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "16 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nup the rear with his cart, wading ankle-deep in the\\nmud, alternately puffing at his pipe, and ejaculating\\nin his prairie patois, Sacre enfant de garce as one\\nof the mules would seem to recoil before some abyss\\nof unusual profundity. The cart was of the kind\\nthat one may see by scores around the market-place\\nat Quebec, and had a white covering to protect the\\narticles within. These were our provisions and a\\ntent, with ammunition, blankets, and presents for\\nthe Indians.\\nWe were in all four men with eight animals for\\nbesides the spare horses led by Shaw and myself, an\\nadditional mule was driven along with us as a reserve\\nin case of accident.\\nAfter this summing up of our forces, it may not\\nbe amiss to glance at the characters of the two men\\nwho accompanied us.\\nDeslauriers was a Canadian, with all the character-\\nistics of the true Jean Baptiste. Neither fatigue,\\nexposure, nor hard labor could ever impair his cheer-\\nfulness and gayety, or his politeness to his bourgeois\\nand when night came, he would sit down by the fire,\\nsmoke his pipe, and tell stories with the utmost con-\\ntentment. The prairie was his element. Henry\\nChatillon was of a different stamp. When we were\\nat St. Louis, several gentlemen of the Fur Company\\nhad kindly offered to procure for us a hunter and\\nguide suited for our purposes, and on coming one\\nafternoon to the office, we found there a tall and\\nexceedingly well-dressed man, with a face so open", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0044.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "BREAKING THE ICE. 17\\nand frank that it attracted our notice at once. We\\nwere surprised at being told that it was he who\\nwished to guide us to the mountains. He was born\\nin a little French town near St. Louis, and from the\\nage of fifteen years had been constantly in the neigh-\\nborhood of the Rocky Mountains, emploj^ed for the\\nmost part by the company, to supply their forts with\\nbuffalo meat. As a hunter, he had but one rival in\\nthe whole region, a man named Simoneau, with\\nwhom, to the honor of both of them, he was on terms\\nof the closest friendship. He had arrived at St.\\nLouis the day before, from the mountains, where he\\nhad been for four years and he now asked only to\\ngo and spend a day with his mother, before setting\\nout on another expedition. His age was about thirty;\\nhe was six feet high, and very powerfully and grace-\\nfully moulded. The prairies had been his school;\\nhe could neither read nor write, but he had a natural\\nrefinement and delicacy of mind, such as is rare even\\nin women. His manly face was a mirror of upright-\\nness, simplicity, and kindness of heart; he had,\\nmoreover, a keen perception of character, and a tact\\nthat would preserve him from flagrant error in any\\nsociety. Henry had not the restless energy of an\\nAnglo-American. He was content to take things as\\nhe found them; and his chief fault arose from an\\nexcess of easy generosity, not conducive to thriving\\nin the world. Yet it was commonly remarked of\\nhim, that whatever he might choose to do with what\\nbelonged to himself, the property of others was always", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0045.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "18 THE OREGOX TRAIL.\\nsafe in his hands. His bravery was as much cele-\\nbrated in the mountains as his skill in hunting; but\\nit is characteristic of him that in a country where\\nthe rifle is the chief arbiter between man and man,\\nhe was very seldom involved in quarrels. Once or\\ntwice, indeed, his quiet good-nature had been mis-\\ntaken and presumed upon, but the consequences of\\nthe error were such that no one was ever known to\\nrepeat it. No better evidence of the intrepidity of\\nhis temper could be asked, than the common report\\nthat he had killed more than thirty grizzly bears.\\nHe was a proof of what unaided nature will some-\\ntimes do. I have never, in the city or in the wilder-\\nness, met a better man than my true-hearted friend,\\nHenry Chatillon.\\nWe were soon free of the woods and bushes, and\\nfairly upon the broad prairie. Now and then a\\nShawanoe passed us, riding his little shaggy pony at\\na lope; his calico shirt, his gaudy sash, and the\\ngay handkerchief bound around his snaky hair, flut-\\ntering in the wind. At noon we stopped to rest not\\nfar from a little creek, replete with frogs and young\\nturtles. There had been an Indian encampment at\\nthe place, and the framework of the lodges still\\nremained, enabling us very easily to gain a shelter\\nfrom the sun, by merely spreading one or two blankets\\nover them. Thus shaded, we sat upon our saddles,\\nand Shaw for the first time lighted his favorite\\nIndian pipe; while Deslauriers was squatted over a\\nhot bed of coals, shading his eyes with one hand,", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0046.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "BREAKING THE ICE. 19\\nand holding a little stick in the other, with which he\\nregulated the hissing contents of the frying-pan.\\nThe horses were turned to feed among the scattered\\nbushes of a low oozy meadow. A drowsy spring-\\nlilce sultriness pervaded the air, and the voices of\\nten thousand young frogs and insects, just awakened\\ninto life, rose in varied chorus from the creek and\\nthe meadows.\\nScarcely were we seated when a visitor approached.\\nThis was an old Kanzas Indian a man of distinction,\\nif one might judge from his dress. His head was\\nshaved and painted red, and from the tuft of hair\\nremaining on the crown dangled several eagle s\\nfeathers, and the tails of two or three rattlesnakes.\\nHis cheeks, too, were daubed with vermilion his ears\\nwere adorned with green glass pendants; a collar\\nof grizzly bears claws surrounded his neck, and\\nseveral large necklaces of wampum hung on his\\nbreast. Having shaken us by the hand with a grunt\\nof salutation, the old man, dropping his red blanket\\nfrom his shoulders, sat down cross-legged on the\\nground. We offered him a cup of sweetened water,\\nat which he ejaculated Good I and was beginning\\nto tell us how great a man he was, and how many\\nPawnees he had killed, when suddenly a motley\\nconcourse appeared wading across the creek towards\\nus. They filed past in rapid succession, men, women,\\nand children some were on horseback, some on foot,\\nbut all were alike squalid and wretched. Old squaws,\\nmounted astride of shaggy, meagre little ponies, with", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0047.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "20 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nperhaps one or two snake-eyed children seated behind\\nthem, clinging to their tattered blankets; tall lank\\nyoung men on foot, with bows and arrows in their\\nhands; and girls whose native ugliness not all the\\ncharms of glass beads and scarlet cloth could disguise,\\nmade up the procession; although here and there\\nwas a man who, like our visitor, seemed to hold some\\nrank in this respectable community. They were the\\ndregs of the Kanzas nation, who, while their betters\\nwere gone to hunt the buffalo, had left the village\\non a begging expedition to Westport.\\nWhen this ragamuffin horde had passed, we caught\\nour horses, saddled, harnessed, and resumed our\\njourney. Fording the creek, the low roofs of a\\nnumber of rude buildings appeared, rising from a\\ncluster of groves and woods on the left; and riding\\nup through a long lane amid a profusion of wild\\nroses and early spring flowers, we found the log-\\nchurch and schoolhouses belonging to the Methodist\\nShawanoe Mission. The Indians were on the point\\nof gathering to a religious meeting. Some scores of\\nthem, tall men in half-civilized dress, were seated on\\nwooden benches under the trees; while their horses\\nwere tied to the sheds and fences. Their chief.\\nParks, a remarkably large and athletic man, had\\njust arrived from Westport, where he owns a trading\\nestablishment. Beside this, he has a large farm and\\na considerable number of slaves. Indeed, the Shawa-\\nnoes have made greater progress in agriculture than\\nany other tribe on the Missouri, frontier, and both in", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0048.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "BREAKING THE ICE. 21\\nappearance and in character form a marked contrast\\nto our late acquaintance, the Kanzas.\\nA few hours ride brought us to the banks of the\\nriver Kanzas. Traversing the woods that lined it,\\nand ploughing through the deep sand, we encamped\\nnot far from the bank, at the Lower Delaware cross-\\ning. Our tent was erected for the first time, on a\\nmeadow close to the woods, and the camp prepara-\\ntions being complete, we began to think of supper.\\nAn old Delaware woman, of some three hundred\\npounds weight, sat in the porch of a little log-house,\\nclose to the water, and a very pretty half-breed girl\\nwas engaged, under her superintendence, in feeding\\na large flock of turkeys that were fluttering and gob-\\nbling about the door. But no offers of money, or\\neven of tobacco, could induce her to part with one of\\nher favorites so I took my rifle, to see if the Avoods\\nor the river could furnish us anything. A multitude\\nof quails were plaintively whistling in the meadows\\nbut nothing appropriate to the rifle was to be seen,\\nexcept three buzzards, seated on the spectral limbs\\nof an old dead sycamore, that thrust itself out over\\nthe river from the dense sunny wall of fresh foliage.\\nTheir ugly heads were drawn down between their\\nshoulders, and they seemed to luxuriate in the soft\\nsunshine that was pouring from the west. As they\\noffered no epicurean temptations, I refrained from\\ndisturbing their enjoyment; but contented myself\\nwith admiring the calm beauty of the sunset, for\\nthe river, eddying swiftly in deep purple shadows", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0049.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "22 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbetween the impending woods, formed a wild but\\ntranquillizing scene.\\nWhen I returned to the camp, I found Shaw and\\nan old Indian seated on the ground in close confer-\\nence, passing the pipe between them. The old man\\nwas explaining that he loved the whites, and had\\nan especial partiality for tobacco. Deslauriers was\\narranging upon the ground our service of tin cups\\nand plates and as other viands were not to be had,\\nhe set before us a repast of biscuit and bacon, and a\\nlarge pot of coffee. Unsheathing our knives, we\\nattacked it, disposed of the greater part, and tossed\\nthe residue to the Indian. Meanwhile our horses,\\nnow hobbled for the first time, stood among the trees,\\nwith their fore-legs tied together, in great disgust\\nand astonishment. They seemed by no means to\\nrelish this foretaste of what awaited them. Mine, in\\nparticular, had conceived a mortal aversion to the\\nprairie life. One of them, christened Hendrick, an\\nanimal whose strength and hardihood were his only\\nmerits, and who yielded to nothing but the cogent\\narguments of the whip, looked toward us with an\\nindignant countenance, as if he meditated avenging\\nhis wrongs with a kick. The other, Pontiac, a good\\nhorse, though of plebeian lineage, stood with his\\nhead drooping and his mane hanging about his eyes,\\nwith the grieved and sulky air of a lubberly boy sent\\noff to school. His forebodings were but too just for\\nwhen I last heard from him, he was under the lash of\\nan Ogillallah brave, on a war-party against the Crows.", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0050.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "BREAKIXG THE ICE. 23\\nAs it grew dark and the voices of the whippoor-\\nwills succeeded the wliistle of the quails, we removed\\nour saddles to the tent to serve as pillows, spread our\\nblankets upon the ground, and prepared to bivouac\\nfor the first time that season. Each man selected\\nthe place in the tent which he was to occupy for the\\njourney. To Deslauriers, however, was assigned the\\ncart into which he could creep in Avet weather, and\\nfind a much better shelter than his bourgeois enjoyed\\nin the tent.\\nThe river Kanzas at this point forms the boundary-\\nline between the country of the Shawanoes and that\\nof the Delawares. We crossed it on the following\\nday, rafting over our horses and equipments with\\nmuch difficulty, and unlading our cart in order to\\nmake our way up the steep ascent on the farther\\nbank. It was a Sunday morning; warm, tranquil,\\nand bright; and a perfect stillness reigned over the\\nrough enclosures and neglected fields of the Dela-\\nwares, except the ceaseless hum and chirruping of\\nmyriads of insects. Now and then an Indian rode\\npast on his way to the meeting-house, or, through\\nthe dilapidated entrance of some shattered log-house,\\nan old woman might be discerned enjoying all the\\nluxury of idleness. There was no village bell, for\\nthe Delawares have none and yet upon that forlorn\\nand rude settlement was the same spirit of Sabbath\\nrepose and tranquillity as in some New England\\nvillage among the mountains of New Hampshire, or\\nthe Vermont woods.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0051.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "24 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nA military road led from tliis point to Fort Leaven-\\nworth, and for many miles the farms and cabins of\\nthe Delawares were scattered at short intervals on\\neither hand. The little rude structures of logs\\nerected usually on the borders of a tract of woods\\nmade a picturesque feature in the landscape. But\\nthe scenery needed no foreign aid. Nature had done\\nenough for it; and the alternation of rich green\\nprairies and groves that stood in clusters, or lined\\nthe banks of the numerous little streams, had all the\\nsoftened and polished beauty of a region that has\\nbeen for centuries under the hand of man. At that\\nearly season, too, it was in the height of its freshness.\\nThe woods were flushed with the red buds of the\\nmaple there were frequent flowering shrubs unknown\\nin the east; and the green swells of the prairie were\\nthickly studded with blossoms.\\nEncamping near a spring, by the side of a hill, we\\nresumed our journey in the morning, and early in the\\nafternoon were within a few miles of Fort Leaven-\\nworth. The road crossed a stream densely bordered\\nwith trees, and running in the bottom of a deep\\nwoody hollow. We were about to descend into it\\nwhen a wild and confused procession appeared, pass-\\ning through the water below, and coming up the\\nsteep ascent towards us. We stopped to let them\\npass. They were Delawares, just returned from a\\nhunting expedition. All, both men and women, were\\nmounted on horseback, and drove along with them\\na considerable number of pack-mules, laden with the", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0052.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "BREAKING THE ICE. 25\\nfurs they had taken, together with the buffalo-robes,\\nkettles, and other articles of their travelling equip-\\nment, which, as well as their clothing and their\\nweapons, had a worn and dingy look, as if they had\\nseen hard service of late. At the rear of the party\\nwas an old man, who, as he came up, stopped his\\nhorse to speak to us. He rode a tough shaggy pony,\\nwith mane and tail well knotted with burrs, and a\\nrusty Spanish bit in its mouth, to which, by way of\\nreins, was attached a string of raw hide. His saddle,\\nrobbed probably from a Mexican, had no covering,\\nbeing merely a tree of the Spanish form, with a piece\\nof grizzly bear s skin laid over it, a pair of rude\\nwooden stirrups attached, and, in the absence of\\ngirth, a thong of hide passing around the horse s\\nbelly. The rider s dark features and keen snaky\\neye were unequivocally Indian. He wore a buck-\\nskin frock, which, like his fringed leggins, was well\\npolished and blackened by grease and long service,\\nand an old handkerchief was tied around his head.\\nResting on the saddle before him lay his rifle, a\\nweapon in the use of which the Delawares are skil-\\nful, though, from its weight, the distant prairie\\nIndians are too lazy to carry it.\\nWho s your chief? he immediately inquired.\\nHenry Chatillon pointed to us. The old Delaware\\nfixed his eyes intently upon us for a moment, and\\nthen sententiously remarked,\\nNo good! Too young! With this flattering\\ncomment he left us and rode after his people.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0053.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "26 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThis tribe, the Delawares, once the peaceful allies\\nof William Penn, the tributaries of the conquering\\nIroquois, are now the most adventurous and dreaded\\nwarriors upon the prairies. They make war upon\\nremote tribes, the very names of which were unknown\\nto their fathers in their ancient seats in Pennsylvania,\\nand they push these new quarrels with true Indian\\nrancor, sending out their war-parties as far as the\\nRocky Mountains, and into the Mexican territories.\\nTheir neighbors and former confederates, the Shawa-\\nnoes, who are tolerable farmers, are in a jjrosperous\\ncondition; but the Delawares dwindle every year,\\nfrom the number of men lost in their warlike\\nexpeditions.\\nSoon after leaving this party we saw, stretching\\non the right, the forests that follow the course of the\\nMissouri, and the deep woody channel through which\\nat this point it runs. At a distance in front were\\nthe white barracks of Fort Leavenworth, just visible\\nthrough the trees upon an eminence above a bend of\\nthe river. A wide green meadow, as level as a lake,\\nlay between us and the Missouri, and upon this,\\nclose to a line of trees that bordered a little brook,\\nstood the tent of the captain and his companions,\\nwith their horses feeding around it; but they them-\\nselves were invisible. Wright, their muleteer, was\\nthere, seated on the tongue of the wagon, repairing\\nhis harness. Boisverd stood cleaning his rifle at the\\ndoor of the tent, and Sorel lounged idly about. On\\ncloser examination, however, we discovered the cap-", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0054.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "BREAKING THE ICE. 27\\ntain s brother, Jack, sitting in the tent, at his old\\noccupation of splicing trail-ropes. He welcomed us\\nin his broad Irish brogue, and said that his brother\\nwas fishing in the river, and R gone to the garri-\\nson. They returned before sunset. Meanwhile we\\npitched our own tent not far off, and after supper a\\ncouncil was held, in which it was resolved to remain\\none day at Fort Leavenworth, and on the next to\\nbid a final adieu to the frontier, or, in the phraseology\\nof the region, to jump off. Our deliberations\\nwere conducted by the ruddy light from a distant\\nswell of the prairie where the long dry grass of last\\nsummer was on fire.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0055.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER III.\\nFORT LEAVENWORTH.\\nOn the next morning we rode to Fort Leavenworth.\\nColonel, now General Kearney, to whom I had had\\nthe honor of an introduction when at St. Louis, was\\njust arrived, and received us at his quarters with the\\ncourtesy habitual to him. Fort Leavenworth is in\\nfact no fort, being without defensive works, except\\ntwo blockhouses. No rumors of war had as yet\\ndisturbed its tranquillity. In the square grassy area,\\nsurrounded by barracks and the quarters of the\\nofficers, the men were passing and repassing, or\\nlounging among the trees although not many weeks\\nafterwards it presented a different scene, for here\\nthe offscourings of the frontier were congregated for\\nthe expedition against Santa Fd.\\nPassing through the garrison, we rode toward the\\nKickapoo village, five or six miles beyond. The\\npath, a rather dubious and uncertain one, led us\\nalong the ridge of high bluffs that border the Mis-\\nsouri and, by looking to the right or to the left, we\\ncould enjoy a strange contrast of scenery. On the\\nleft stretched the prairie, rising into swells and\\nundulations, thickly sprinkled with groves, or grace-\\nfully expanding into wide grassy basins, of miles in", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0056.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "FORT LEAVENWORTH. 29\\nextent; while its curvatures, swelling against the\\nhorizon, were often surmounted by lines of sunny-\\nwoods a scene to which the freshness of the season\\nand the peculiar mellowness of the atmosphere gave\\nadditional softness. Below us, on the right, was a\\ntract of ragged and broken woods. We could look\\ndown on the tops of the trees, some living and some\\ndead some erect, others leaning at every angle, and\\nothers piled in masses together by the passage of a\\nhurricane. Beyond their extreme verge the turbid\\nwaters of the Missouri were discernible through the\\nboughs, rolling powerfully along at the foot of the\\nwoody declivities on its farther bank.\\nThe path soon after led inland and, as we crossed\\nan open meadow, we saw a cluster of buildings on a\\nrising ground before us, with a crowd of people sur-\\nrounding them. They were the storehouse, cottage,\\nand stables of the Kickapoo trader s establishment.\\nJust at that moment, as it chanced, he was beset\\nwith half the Indians of the settlement. They had\\ntied their wretched, neglected little ponies by dozens\\nalong the fences and out-houses, and were either\\nlounging about the place, or crowding into the trad-\\ning-house. Here were faces of various colors: red,\\ngreen, white, and black, curiously intermingled and\\ndisposed over the visage in a variety of patterns.\\nCalico shirts, red and blue blankets, brass ear-rings,\\nwampum necklaces, appeared in profusion. The\\ntrader was a blue-eyed, open-faced man, who neither\\nin his manners nor his appearance betrayed any of", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0057.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "30 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe roughness of the frontier though just at present\\nhe was obliged to keep a lynx eye on his customers,\\nwho, men and women, were climbing on his counter,\\nand seating themselves among his boxes and bales.\\nThe village itself was not far off, and sufficiently\\nillustrated the condition of its unfortunate and self-\\nabandoned occupants. Fancy to yourself a little\\nswift stream, working its devious way down a woody\\nvalley; sometimes wholly hidden under logs and\\nfallen trees, sometimes spreading into a broad, clear\\npool and on its banks, in little nooks cleared away\\namong the trees, miniature log-houses, in utter ruin\\nand neglect. A labyrinth of narrow, obstructed\\npaths connected these habitations one with another.\\nSometimes we met a stray calf, a pig, or a pony,\\nbelonging to some of the villagers, who usually lay\\nin the sun in front of their dwellings, and looked\\non us with cold, suspicious eyes as we approached.\\nFarther on, in place of the log-huts of the Kickapoos,\\nwe found the pukwi lodges of their neighbors, the\\nPottawattamies, whose condition seemed no better\\nthan theirs.\\nGrowing tired at last, and exhausted by the exces-\\nsive heat and sultriness of the day, we returned to\\nour friend, the trader. By this time the crowd\\naround him had dispersed, and left him at leisure.\\nHe invited us to his cottage, a little white-and-green\\nbuilding, in the style of the old French settlements,\\nand ushered us into a neat, well-furnished room.\\nThe blinds were closed, and the heat and glare of", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0058.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "FORT LEAVENWORTH. 31\\nthe sun excluded the room was as cool as a cavern.\\nIt was neatly carpeted, too, and furnished in a\\nmanner that Ave hardly expected on the frontier.\\nThe sofas, chairs, tables, and a well-filled bookcase\\nwould not have disgraced an eastern city, though\\nthere were one or two little tokens that indicated the\\nrather questionable civilization of the region. A\\npistol, loaded and capped, lay on the mantel-piece;\\nand through the glass of the bookcase, peeping above\\nthe works of John Milton, glittered the handle of a\\nvery mischievous-looking knife.\\nOur host went out, and returned with iced water,\\nglasses, and a bottle of excellent claret, a refresh-\\nment most welcome in the extreme heat of the day\\nand soon after appeared a merry, laughing woman,\\nwho must have been, a year or two before, a very\\nrich specimen of Creole beauty. She came to say\\nthat lunch was ready in the next room. Our hostess\\nevidently lived on the sunny side of life, and troubled\\nherself with none of its cares. She sat down and\\nentertained us while we were at table with anecdotes\\nof fishing-parties, frolics, and the officers at the fort.\\nTaking leave at length of the hospitable trader and\\nhis friend, we rode back to the garrison.\\nShaw passed on to the camp, while I remained to\\ncall upon Colonel Kearney. I found him still at\\ntable. There sat our friend the captain, in the same\\nremarkable habiliments in which we saw him at\\nWestport; the black pipe, however, being for the\\npresent laid aside. He dangled his little cap in his", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0059.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "32 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhand, and talked of steeple-chases, touching occa-\\nsionally upon his anticipated exploits in buffalo-\\nhunting. There, too, was R somewhat more\\nelegantly attired. For the last time, we tasted the\\nluxuries of civilization, and drank adieus to it in\\nwine good enough to make us regret the leave-taking.\\nThen, mounting, we rode together to the camp, Avhere\\neverything was in readiness for departure on the\\nmorrow.", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0060.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER IV.\\nJUMPING OFF.\\nOur transatlantic companions were well equipped\\nfor the journey. They had a wagon drawn by six\\nmules, and crammed with provisions for six months,\\nbesides ammunition enough for a regiment; spare\\nrifles and fowling-pieces, ropes and harness, personal\\nbaggage, and a miscellaneous assortment of articles,\\nwhich produced infinite embarrassment. They had\\nalso decorated their persons with telescopes and port-\\nable compasses, and carried English double-barrelled\\nrifles of sixteen to the pound calibre, slung to their\\nsaddles in dragoon fashion.\\nBy sunrise on the twenty-third of May Ave had\\nbreakfasted; the tents were levelled, the animals\\nsaddled and harnessed, and all was prepared. Avance\\ndone! get up! cried Deslauriers to his mule.\\nWright, our friends muleteer, after some swearing\\nand lashing, got his insubordinate train in motion,\\nand then the whole party filed from the ground. Thus\\nwe bade a long adieu to bed and board, and the\\nprinciples of Blackstone s Commentaries. The day\\nwas a most auspicious one and yet Shaw and I felt\\ncertain misgivings, which in the sequel proved but\\ntoo well founded. We had just learned that though", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0061.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "34 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nR had taken it upon him to adopt tliis course\\nwithout consulting us, not a single man in tlie party\\nknew the way; and the absurdity of the jjroceeding\\nsoon became manifest. His jjlan was to strike the\\ntrail of several companies of dragoons, who last sum-\\nmer had made an expedition under Colonel Kearney\\nto Fort Laramie, and by this means to reach the\\ngrand trail of the Oregon emigrants up the Platte.\\nWe rode for an hour or two, when a familiar\\ncluster of buildings appeared on a little hill. Hallo\\nshouted the Kickapoo trader from over his fence,\\nwhere are you going A few rather emj)hatic\\nexclamations might have been heard among us, when\\nwe found that we had gone miles out of our way,\\nand were not advanced an inch toward the Rocky\\nMountains. So we turned in the direction the trader\\nindicated; and with the sun for a guide, began to\\ntrace a bee-line across the prairies. We struggled\\nthrough copses and lines of wood; we waded brooks\\nand pools of water; we traversed prairies as green as\\nan emerald, expanding before us mile after mile,\\nwider and more wild than the wastes Mazeppa rode\\nover.\\nMan nor brute,\\nNor dint of lioof, nor print of foot.\\nLay in tlie wild luxuriant soil\\nNo sign of travel none of toil\\nThe very air was mute.\\nRiding in advance, as we passed over one of these\\ngreat plains, we looked back and saw the line of", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0062.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "JUMPING OFF. 35\\nscattered horsemen stretching for a mile or more;\\nand, far in the rear, against the horizon, the white\\nwagons creeping slowly along. Here we are at\\nlast! shouted the captain. And, in truth, we had\\nstruck upon the traces of a large body of horse.\\nWe turned joyfully and followed this new course,\\nwith tempers somewhat improved; and towards sun-\\nset encamped on a high swell of the prairie, at the\\nfoot of which a lazy stream soaked along through\\nclumps of rank grass. It was getting dark. We\\nturned the horses loose to feed. Drive down the\\ntent-pickets hard, said Henry Chatillon; it is going\\nto blow. We did so, and secured the tent as well\\nas we could for the sky had changed totally, and a\\nfresh damp smell in the wind warned us that a\\nstormy night was likely to succeed the hot, clear\\nday. The prairie also wore a new aspect, and its\\nvast swells had grown black and sombre under the\\nshadow of the clouds. The thunder soon began to\\ngrowl at a distance. Picketing and hobbling the\\nhorses among the rich grass at the foot of the slope\\nwhere we encamped, we gained a shelter just as the\\nrain began to fall; and sat at the opening of the\\ntent, watching the proceedings of the captain. In\\ndefiance of the rain, he was stalking among the\\nhorses, wrapped in an old Scotch plaid. An extreme\\nsolicitude tormented him, lest some of his favorites\\nshould c..cape, or some accident should befall them\\nand he cast an anxious eye towards three wolves\\nwho were sneaking along over the dreary surface of", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0063.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "36 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe plain, as if he dreaded some hostile demonstra-\\ntion on their part.\\nOn the next morning we had gone but a mile or\\ntwo when we came to an extensive belt of woods,\\nthrough the midst of which ran a stream, wide, deep,\\nand of an appearance particularly muddy and treach-\\nerous. Deslauriers was in advance with his cart; he\\njerked his pipe from his mouth, lashed his mules,\\nand poured forth a volley of Canadian ejaculations.\\nIn plunged the cart, but midway it stuck fast. He\\nleaped out knee-deep in water, and, by dint of sacres\\nand a vigorous application of the whip, urged the\\nmules out of the slough. Then approached the long\\nteam and heavy wagon of our friends but it paused\\non the brink.\\nNow my advice is began the captain, who\\nhad been anxiously contemplating the muddy gulf.\\nDrive on cried R\\nBut Wright, the muleteer, apparently had not as\\nyet decided the point in his own mind and he sat\\nstill in his seat, on one of the shaft-mules, whistling\\nin a low contemplative strain to himself.\\nMy advice is, resumed the captain, that we\\nunload for I 11 bet any man five pounds that if we\\ntry to go through we shall stick fast.\\nBy the powers, we shall stick fast! echoed\\nJack, the captain s brother, shaking his large head\\nwith an air of firm conviction.\\nDrive on! drive on! cried R petulantly.\\nWell, observed the captain, turning to us as", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0064.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "JUMPING OFF. 37\\nwe sat looking or, inucli edified by this by-play\\namong our confederates, I can only give my advice,\\nand if people won t be reasonable, why, they won t,\\nthat s all!\\nMeanwhile Wright had apparently made up his\\nmind for he suddenly began to shout forth a volley\\nof oaths and curses, that, compared with the French\\nimprecations of Deslauriers, sounded like the roaring\\nof heavy cannon after the popping and sputtering of\\na bunch of Chinese crackers. At the same time he\\ndischarged a shower of blows upon his mules, who\\nhastily dived into the mud, and drew the wagon\\nlumbering after them. For a moment the issue was\\ndoubtful. Wright writhed about in his saddle, and\\nswore and lashed like a madman but who can count\\non a team of half-broken mules? At the most criti-\\ncal point, when all should have been harmony and\\ncombined effort, the perverse brutes fell into disorder,\\nand huddled together in confusion on the farther\\nbank. There was the wagon up to the hub in mud,\\nand visibly settling every instant. There was noth-\\ning for it but to unload then to dig away the mud\\nfrom before the wheels with a spade, and lay a cause-\\nway of bushes and branches. This agreeable labor\\naccomplished, the wagon at length emerged; but as\\nsome interruption of this sort occurred at least four\\nor five times a day for a fortnight, our progress\\ntowards the Platte was not without its obstacles.\\nWe travelled six or seven miles farther, and\\nnooned near a brook. On the point of resuming", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0065.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "38 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nour journey, when the horses were all driven clown\\nto water, my homesick charger, Pontiac, made a\\nsudden leap across, and set off at a round trot for\\nthe settlements. I mounted my remaining horse and\\nstarted in pursuit. Making a circuit, I headed the\\nrunaway, hoping to drive him back to camp, but he\\ninstantly broke into a gallop, made a wide tour on\\nthe prairie, and got by me again. I tried this plan\\nrepeatedly with the same result; Pontiac was evi-\\ndently disgusted with the prairie, so I abandoned it\\nand tried another, trotting along gently behind him,\\nin hopes that I might quietly get near enough to\\nseize the trail-rope which was fastened to his neck,\\nand dragged about a dozen feet behind him. The\\nchase grew interesting. For mile after mile I fol-\\nlowed the rascal with the utmost care not to alarm\\nhim, and gradually got nearer, until at length old\\nHendrick s nose was fairly brushed by the whisking\\ntail of the unsuspecting Pontiac. Without drawing\\nrein I slid softly to the ground but my long heavy\\nrifle encumbered me, and the low sound it made in\\nstriking the horn of the saddle startled him, he\\npricked up his ears and sprang off at a run. My\\nfriend, thought I, remounting, do that again and\\nI will shoot you!\\nFort Leavenworth was about forty miles distant,\\nand thither I determined to follow him. I made up\\nmy mind to spend a solitary and supperless night,\\nand then set out again in the morning. One hoj)e,\\nhowever, remained. The creek where the wagon", "height": "2974", "width": "1848", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0066.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "JUMPING OFF. 39\\nhad stuck was just before us; Pontiac might be\\nthirsty with his run and stop tliere to drink. I kept\\nas near him as possible, taking every precaution not\\nto alarm him again and the result proved as I had\\nhoped, for he walked deliberately among the trees\\nand stooped down to the water. I alighted, dragged\\nold Hendrick through the mud, and with a feeling\\nof infinite satisfaction picked up the slimy trail-rope,\\nand twisted it three times round my hand. Now\\nlet me see you get away again I thought, as I\\nremounted. But Pontiac was exceedingly reluctant\\nto turn back; Hetidrick, too, who had evidently\\nflattered himself with vain hopes, showed the utmost\\nrepugnance, and grumbled in a manner peculiar to\\nhimself at being compelled to face about. A smart\\ncut of the whip restored his cheerfulness and, drag-\\nging the recovered truant behind, I set out in search\\nof the camp. An hour or two elapsed, when, near\\nsunset, I saw the tents, standing on a swell of the\\nprairie, beyond a line of woods, while the bands of\\nhorses were feeding in a low meadow close at hand.\\nThere sat Jack C cross-legged, in the sun,\\nsplicing a trail-rope and the rest were lying on the\\ngrass, smoking and telling stones. That night we\\nenjoyed a serenade from the wolves, more lively than\\nany with which they had yet favored us and in the\\nmorning one of the musicians appeared, not many\\nrods from the tents, quietly seated among the horses,\\nlooking at us w^ith a pair of large gray eyes; but\\nperceiving a rifle levelled at him, he leaped up and\\nmade off in hot haste.", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0067.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "40 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nI pass by the following day or two of our journc}\\nfor nothing occurred worthy of record. Should any\\none of my readers ever be impelled to visit the\\nprairies, and should he choose the route of the Platte\\n(the best, perhaps, that can be adopted), I can assure\\nhim that he need not think to enter at once upon the\\nparadise of his imagination. A dreary preliminary,\\na protracted crossing of the threshold, awaits him\\nbefore he finds himself fairly upon the verge of the\\ngreat American desert, those barren wastes, the\\nhaunts of the buffalo and the Indian, where the very\\nshadow of civilization lies a hundred leagues behind\\nhim. The intervening country, the wide and fertile\\nbelt that extends for several hundred miles beyond\\nthe extreme frontier, will probably answer tolerably\\nwell to his preconceived ideas of the prairie; for this\\nit is from which picturesque tourists, painters, poets,\\nand novelists, who have seldom penetrated farther,\\nhave derived their conceptions of the whole region.\\nIf he has a painter s eye, he may find his period of\\nprobation not wholly void of interest. The scenery,\\nthough tame, is graceful and pleasing. Here are\\nlevel plains, too wide for the eye to measure green\\nundulations, like motionless swells of the ocean;\\nabundance of streams, followed through all their\\nwindings by lines of woods and scattered groves.\\nBut let him be as enthusiastic as he may, he will\\nfind enough to damp his ardor. His wagons will\\nstick in the mud his horses will break loose harness\\nwill give way; and axle-trees prove unsound. His", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0068.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "JUMPING OFF. 41\\nbed will be a soft one, consisting often of black mud\\nof the richest consistency. As for food, he must\\ncontent himself with biscuit and salt provisions for,\\nstrange as it may seem, this tract of country pro-\\nduces very little game. As he advances, indeed, he\\nwill see, mouldering in the grass by his path, the\\nvast antlers of the elk, and farther on the whitened\\nskulls of the buffalo, once swarming over this now\\ndeserted region. Perhaps, like us, he may journey\\nfor a fortnight, and see not so much as the hoof-\\nprint of a deer; in the spring, not even a prairie-hen\\nis to be had.\\nYet, to compensate him for this unlooked-for\\ndeficiency of game, he will find himself beset with\\nvarmints innumerable. The wolves will entertain\\nhim with a concert at night, and skulk around him\\nby day, just beyond rifle-shot; his horse will step\\ninto badger-holes from every marsh and mud-puddle\\nwill arise the bellowing, croaking, and trilling of\\nlegions of frogs, infinitely various in color, shape,\\nand dimensions. A profusion of snakes will glide\\naway from under his horse s feet, or quietly visit\\nhim in his tent at night; while the pertinacious\\nhumming of unnumbered mosquitoes will banish\\nsleep from his eyelids. When, thirsty with a long\\nride in the scorching sun over some boundless reach\\nof prairie, he comes at length to a pool of water,\\nand alights to drink, he discovers a troop of young\\ntadpoles sporting in the bottom of his cup. Add to\\nthis, that, all the morning, the sun beats upon him", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0069.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "42 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwitli a sultry, penetrating heat, and that, with pro-\\nvoking regularity, at about four o clock in the after-\\nnoon, a thunderstorm rises and drenches him to the\\nskin.\\nOne day, after a protracted morning s ride, we\\nstopped to rest at noon upon the open prairie. No\\ntrees were in sight; but close at hand a little drib-\\nbling Ijrook was twisting from side to side through\\na hollow; now forming holes of stagnant water, and\\nnow gliding over the mud in a scarcely perceptible\\ncurrent, among a growth of sickly bushes, and great\\nclumps of tall rank grass. The day was excessively\\nhot and oppressive. The horses and mules were\\nrolling on the prairie to refresh themselves, or feed-\\ning among the bushes in the hollow. We had dined\\nand Deslauriers, puffing at his pipe, knelt on the\\ngrass, scrubbing our service of tin-plate. Shaw lay\\nin the shade, under the cart, to rest for a while before\\nthe word should be given to catch up. Henry\\nChatillon, before lying down, was looking about for\\nsigns of snakes, the only living things that he feared,\\nand uttering various ejaculations of disgust at finding\\nseveral suspicious-looking holes close to the cart. I\\nsat leaning against the wheel in a scanty strip of\\nshade, making a pair of hobbles to replace those\\nwhich my contumacious steed Pontiac had broken\\nthe night before. The camp of our friends, a rod\\nor two distant, presented the same scene of lazy\\ntranquillity.\\nHallo! cried Henry, looking up from his in^", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0070.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "JUMPING OFF. 43\\nspection of the snake-holes, here comes the old\\ncaptam.\\nThe captain approached, and stood for a moment\\ncontemplatmg ns m silence.\\nI say, Parkman, he began, look at Shaw there,\\nasleep under the cart, with the tar dripping off the\\nhub of the wheel on his shoulder.\\nAt this Shaw got up, with his eyes half opened,\\nand feeling the part indicated, found his hand glued\\nfast to his red flannel shirt.\\nHe 11 look well, when he gets among the squaws,\\nwon t he? observed the captain, with a grin.\\nHe then crawled under the cart, and began to tell\\nstories, of which his stock was inexhaustible. Yet\\nevery moment he would glance nervously at the\\nhorses. At last he jumped up in great excitement.\\nSee that horse There that fellow just walking\\nover the hill By Jove he s off. It s your big\\nhorse, Shaw; no, it is n t, it s Jack s. Jack! Jack!\\nhallo. Jack! Jack, thus invoked, jumped up and\\nstared vacantly at us.\\nGo and catch your horse, if you don t want to\\nlose him, roared the captain.\\nJack instantly set off at a run through the grass,\\nhis broad trousers flapping about his feet. The cap-\\ntain gazed anxiously till he saw that the horse was\\ncaught; then he sat down, with a countenance of\\nthoughtfulness and care.\\nI tell you what it is, he said, this will never\\ndo at all. We shall lose every horse in the band", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0071.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "44 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nsome day or other, and theu a pretty plight we\\nshould be in! Now I am convinced that the only\\nway for us is to have every man in the camp stand\\nhorse-guard in rotation whenever we stop. Suppos-\\ning a hundred Pawnees should jump up out of that\\nravine, all yelling and flapping their buffalo robes,\\nin the way they do Why, in two minutes, not a\\nhoof would be in sight. We reminded the captain\\nthat a hundred Pawnees would probably demolish the\\nhorse-guard if he were to resist their depredations.\\nAt any rate, pursued the captain, evading the\\npoint, our whole system is wrong; I m convinced\\nof it; it is totally unmilitary. Why, the way we\\ntravel, strung out over the prairie for a mile, an\\nenemy might attack the foremost men, and cut them\\noff before the rest could come up.\\nWe are not in an enemy s country yet, said\\nShaw; when we are, we ll travel together.\\nThen, said the captain, we might be attacked\\nin camp. We ve no sentinels we camp in disorder;\\nno precautions at all to guard against surprise. My\\nown convictions are, that we ought to camp in a\\nhollow-square, with the fires in the centre and have\\nsentinels, and a regular password appointed for every\\nnight. Beside, there should be videttes, riding in\\nadvance, to find a place for the camp and give warn-\\ning of an enemy. These are my convictions. I\\ndon t want to dictate to any man. I give advice to\\nthe best of my judgment, that s all and then let\\npeople do as they please.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0072.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "JUMPING OFF. 45\\nHis plan of sending out videttes seemed particu-\\nlarly dear to him and as no one else was disposed to\\nsecond his views on this point, he took it into his\\nhead to ride forward that afternoon himself.\\nCome, Parkman, said he, will you go with\\nme?\\nWe set out together, and rode a mile or two in\\nadvance. The captain, in the course of twenty years\\nservice in the British army, had seen something of\\nlife and being naturally a pleasant fellow, he was a\\nvery entertaining companion. He cracked jokes and\\ntold stories for an hour or two until, looking back,\\nwe saw the prairie behind us stretching away to the\\nhorizon, without a horseman or a wagon in sight.\\nNow, said the captain, I think the videttes\\nhad better stop till the main body comes up.\\nI was of the same opinion. There was a thick\\ngrowth of woods just before us, with a stream run-\\nning through them. Having crossed this, we found\\non the other side a level meadow, half encircled by\\nthe trees; and, fastening our horses to some bushes,\\nwe sat down on the grass, while, with an old stump\\nof a tree for a target, I began to display the superior-\\nity of the renowned rifle of the backwoods over the\\nforeign innovation borne by the captain. At length\\nvoices could be heard in the distance, behind the\\ntrees.\\nThere they come, said the captain; let s go\\nand see how they get through the creek.\\nWe mounted and rode to the bank of the stream,", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0073.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "46 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwhere the trail crossed it. It ran in a deep hollow,\\nfull of trees. As we looked down, we saw a con-\\nfused crowd of horsemen riding through the water;\\nand among the dingy habiliments of our party glit-\\ntered the uniforms of four dragoons.\\nShaw came whipping his horse up the hank, in\\nadvance of the rest, with a somewhat indignant coun-\\ntenance. The first word he spoke was a blessing\\nfervently invoked on the head of R who was\\nriding, with a crestfallen air, in the rear. Thanks\\nto the ingenious devices of this gentleman, we had\\nmissed the track entirely, and wandered, not towards\\nthe Platte, but to the village of the Iowa Indians.\\nThis we learned from the dragoons, who had lately\\ndeserted from Fort Leavenworth. They told us that\\nour best plan now was to keep to the northward until\\nwe should strike the trail formed by several parties\\nof Oregon emigrants, who had that season set out\\nfrom St. Joseph, in Missouri.\\nIn extremely bad temper, we encamped on this\\nill-starred spot, while the deserters, whose case\\nadmitted of no delay, rode rapidly forward. On the\\nday following, striking the St. Joseph s trail, we\\nturned our horses heads towards Fort Laramie,\\nthen about seven hundred miles to the westward.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0074.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER V.\\nTHE BIG BLUE.\\nThe great medley of Oregon and California emi-\\ngrants at their camps around Independence had heard\\nreports that several additional parties were on the\\npoint of setting out from St. Joseph farther to the\\nnorthward. The prevailing impression was that\\nthese were Mormons, twenty-three hundred in num-\\nber; and a great alarm was excited in consequence.\\nThe people of Illinois and Missouri, who composed\\nby far the greater part of the emigrants, have never\\nbeen on the best terms with the Latter Day Saints\\nand it is notorious throughout the country how much\\nblood has been spilt in their feuds, even far within\\nthe limits of the settlements. No one could predict\\nwhat would be the result, when large armed bodies\\nof these fanatics should encounter the most impetu-\\nous and reckless of their old enemies on the broad\\nprairie, far beyond the reach of law or military force.\\nThe women and children at Independence raised a\\ngreat outcry; the men themselves were seriously\\nalarmed; and, as I learned, they sent to Colonel\\nKearney, requesting an escort of dragoons as far as\\nthe Platte. This was refused; and, as the sequel\\nproved, there was no occasion for it. The St. Joseph", "height": "2955", "width": "1824", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0075.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "48 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nemigrants were as good Christians and as zealous\\nMormon-haters as the rest; and the very few families\\nof the Saints who passed out this season by the\\nroute of the Platte remained behind until the great\\ntide of emigration had gone by, standing in quite as\\nmuch awe of the gentiles as the latter did of\\nthem.\\nWe were now upon this St. Joseph trail. It was\\nevident, by the traces, that large parties were a\\nfew days in advance of us and as we too supposed\\nthem to be Mormons, we had some apprehension of\\ninterruption.\\nThe journey was monotonous. One day we rode\\non for hours, without seeing a tree or a bush before,\\nbehind, and on either side, stretched the vast expanse,\\nrolling in a succession of graceful swells, covered\\nwith the unbroken carpet of fresh green grass. Here\\nand there a crow, a raven, or a turkey-buzzard,\\nrelieved the uniformity.\\nWhat shall we do to-night for wood and water?\\nwe began to ask of each other for the sun was with-\\nin an hour of setting. At length a dark green speck\\nappeared, far off on the right: it was the top of a\\ntree, peering over a swell of the prairie and, leaving\\nthe trail, we made all haste towards it. It proved\\nto be the vanguard of a cluster of bushes and low\\ntrees, that surrounded some pools of water in an\\nextensive hollow; so we encamped on the rising\\nground near it.\\nShaw and I were sitting in the tent, when Deslau-", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0076.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "THE BICx BLUE. 49\\nriers thrust his brown face and old felt hat into the\\nopening, and, dilating his eyes to their utmost extent,\\nannounced supper. There were the tin cups and the\\niron spoons, arranged in order on the grass, and the\\ncoffee-pot predominant in the midst. The meal was\\nsoon despatched but Henry Chatillon still sat cross-\\nlegged, dallying with the remnant of his coffee, the\\nbeverage in universal use upon the prairie, and an\\nespecial favorite with him. He preferred it in its\\nvirgin flavor, unimpaired by sugar or cream and on\\nthe present occasion it met his entire approval, being\\nexceedingly strong, or, as he expressed it, right\\nblack.\\nIt was a gorgeous sunset and the ruddy glow of\\nthe sky was reflected from some extensive pools of\\nwater among the shadov/y copses in the meadow\\nbelow.\\nI must have a bath to-night, said Shaw. How\\nis it, Deslauriers? Any chance for a swim down\\nthere?\\nAh! I cannot tell; just as you please, Monsieur,\\nreplied Deslauriers, shrugging his shoulders, per-\\nplexed by his ignorance of English, and extremely\\nanxious to conform in all respects to the opinions\\nand wishes of his bourgeois.\\nLook at his moccason, said I. It had evidently\\nbeen lately immersed in a profound abyss of black\\nmud.\\nCome, said Shaw; at any rate we can see for\\nourselves.\\n4", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0077.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "60 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nWe set out together; and as we approached the\\nbushes, which were at some distance, we found the\\nground becoming rather treacherous. We could\\nonly get along by stepping upon large clumps of tall\\nrank grass, with fathomless gulfs between, like\\ninnumerable little quaking islands in an ocean of\\nmud, where a false step would have involved our\\nboots in a catastrophe like that which had befallen\\nDeslauriers s moccasons. The thing looked desper-\\nate; we separated, to search in different directions,\\nShaw going off to the right, while I kept straight\\nforward. At last I came to the edge of the bushes,\\nthey were young water- willows, covered with their\\ncaterpillar-like blossoms, but intervening between\\nthem and the last grass-clump was a black and deep\\nslough, over which, by a vigorous exertion, I con-\\ntrived to jump. Then I shouldered my way through\\nthe willows, trampling them down by main force, till\\nI came to a wide stream of water, three inches deep,\\nlanguidly creeping along over a bottom of sleek mud.\\nINIy arrival produced a great commotion. A huge\\ngreen bull-frog uttered an indignant croak, and\\njumped off the bank with a loud splash; his webbed\\nfeet twinkled above the surface, as he jerked them\\nenergetically upward, and I could see him ensconcing\\nhimself in the unresisting slime at the bottom, whence\\nseveral large air-bubbles struggled lazily to the top.\\nSome little spotted frogs followed the patriarch s\\nexample; and then three turtles, not larger than a\\ndollar, tumbled themselves off a broad lily pad,", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0078.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 51\\nwhere they had been reposing. At the same time a\\nsnake, gayly striped with black and yellow, glided\\nout from the bank, and writhed across to the other\\nside and a small stagnant pool into which my foot\\nhad inadvertently pushed a stone was instantly alive\\nwith a congregation of black tadpoles.\\nAny chance for a bath where you are? called\\nout Shaw, from a distance.\\nThe answer was not encouraging. I retreated\\nthrough the willows, and rejoining my companion,\\nwe proceeded to push our researches in company.\\nNot far on the right, a rising ground, covered with\\ntrees and bushes, seemed to sink down abruptly to\\nthe water, and give hope of better success so towards\\nthis we directed our steps. When we reached the\\nplace we found it no easy matter to get along between\\nthe hill and the water, impeded as we were by a\\ngrowth of stiff, obstinate young birch-trees, laced\\ntogether by grape-vines. In the twilight we now\\nand then, to support ourselves, snatched at the\\ntouch-me-not stem of some ancient sweetbrier.\\nShaw, who was in advance, suddenly uttered an\\nemphatic monosyllable; and, looking up, I saw him\\nwith one hand grasping a sapling, and one foot\\nimmersed in the water, from which he had forgotten\\nto withdraw it, his whole attention being engaged in\\ncontemplating the movements of a water-snake, about\\nfive feet long, curiously checkered with black and\\ngreen, who was deliberately swimming across the\\npool. There being no stick or stone at hand to pelt", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0079.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "62 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhim with, we looked at him for a time in silent dis-\\ngust, and then pushed forward. Our perseverance\\nwas at last rewarded; for, several rods farther on,\\nwe emerged upon a little level grassy nook among\\nthe brushwood, and by an extraordinary dispensation\\nof fortune, the weeds and floating sticks, which else-\\nwhere covered the pool, seemed to have drawn apart,\\nand left a few yards of clear water just in front of\\nthis favored spot. We sounded it with a stick; it\\nwas four feet deep: we lifted a specimen in our\\nclosed hands; it seemed reasonably transparent, so\\nwe decided that the time for action was arrived.\\nBut our ablutions were suddenly interrupted by ten\\nthousand punctures, like poisoned needles, and the\\nhumming of myriads of overgrown mosquitoes, rising\\nin all directions from their native mud and swarm-\\ning to the feast. We were fain to beat a retreat with\\nall possible speed.\\nWe made towards the tents, much refreshed by the\\nbath, which the heat of the weather, joined to our\\nprejudices, had rendered very desirable.\\nWhat s the matter with the captain? look at\\nhim! said Shaw. The captain stood alone on the\\nprairie, swinging his hat violently around his head,\\nand lifting first one foot and then the other, without\\nmoving from the spot. First he looked down to the\\nground with an air of supreme abhorrence; then he\\ngazed upward with a perplexed and indignant coun-\\ntenance, as if trying to trace the flight of an unseen\\nenemy. We called to know what was the matter;", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0080.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 53\\nbut lie replied only by execrations directed against\\nsome unknown object. We approached, when our\\nears were saluted by a droning sound, as if twenty\\nbee-hives had been overturned at once. The air\\nabove was full of large black insects, in a state of\\ngreat commotion, and multitudes were flying about\\njust above the tops of the grass-blades.\\nDon t be afraid, called the captain, observing\\nus recoil. The brutes won t sting.\\nAt this I knocked one down with my hat, and dis-\\ncovered him to be no other than a dor-bug and,\\nlooldng closer, we found the ground thickly perfo-\\nrated with their holes.\\nWe took a hasty leave of this flourishing colony,\\nand walking up the rising ground to the tents,\\nfound Deslauriers s fire still glowing brightly. We\\nsat down around it, and Shaw began to expatiate on\\nthe admirable facilities for bathing that we had dis-\\ncovered, recommending the captain by all means to\\ngo down there before breakfast in the morning.\\nThe captain was in the act of remarking that he\\ncould n t have believed it possible, when he suddenly\\ninterrupted himself, and clapped his hand to his\\ncheek, exclaiming that those infernal humbugs\\nwere at him again. In fact, we began to hear\\nsounds as if bullets were humming over our heads.\\nIn a moment something rapped me sharply on the\\nforehead, then upon the neck, and immediately I\\nfelt an indefinite number of sharp wiry claws in\\nactive motion, as if their owner were bent on pushing", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0081.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "54 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhis explorations farther. I seized him, and dropped\\nhim into the fii e. Our party speedily broke up, and\\nwe adjourned to our respective tents, where, closing\\nthe opening fast, we hoped to be exempt from inva-\\nsion. But all precaution was fruitless. The dor-\\nbugs hummed through the tent, and marched over\\nour faces until daylight when, opening our blankets,\\nwe found several dozen clinging there with the\\nutmost tenacity. The first object that met our eyes\\nin the morning was Deslauriers, who seemed to be\\napostrophizing his frying-pan, which he held by the\\nhandle, at arm s length. It appeared that he had\\nleft it at night by the fire; and the bottom was now\\ncovered with dor-bugs, firmly imbedded. Hundreds\\nof others, curiously parched and shrivelled, lay\\nscattered among the ashes.\\nThe horses and mules were turned loose to feed.\\nWe had just taken our seats at breakfast, or rather\\nreclined in the classic mode, when an exclamation\\nfrom Henry Chatillon, and a shout of alarm from the\\ncaptain, gave warning of some casualty, and looking\\nup, we saw the whole band of animals, twenty-three\\nin number, filing off for the settlements, the incor-\\nrigible Pontiac at their head, jumping along with\\nhobbled feet, at a gait much more rapid than grace-\\nful. Three or four of us ran to cut them off, dash-\\ning as best we might through the tall grass, which\\nwas glittering with dewdrops. After a race of a\\nmile or more, Shaw caught a horse. Tying the\\ntrail-rope by way of bridle round the animal s jaw,", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0082.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 55\\nand leaping upon his back, he got in advance of the\\nremaining fugitives, while we, soon bringing them\\ntogether, drove them in a crowd up to the tents,\\nwhere each man caught and saddled his own. Then\\nwere heard lamentations and curses; for half the\\nhorses had broken their hobbles, and many were\\nseriously galled by attempting to run in fetters.\\nIt was late that morning before we were on the\\nmarch; and early in the afternoon we were com-\\npelled to encamp, for a thunder-gust came up and\\nsuddenly enveloped us in whirling sheets of rain.\\nWith much ado v/e pitched our tents amid the\\ntempest, and all night long the thunder bellowed and\\ngrowled over our heads. In the morning light\\npeaceful showers succeeded the cataracts of rain,\\nthat had been drenching us through the canvas of\\nour tents. About noon, when there were some\\ntreacherous indications of fair weather, we got in\\nmotion again.\\nNot a breath of air stirred over the free and open\\nprairie; the clouds were like light piles of cotton;\\nand where the blue sky was visible, it wore a hazy\\nand languid aspect. The sun beat down upon us\\nwith a sultry, penetrating heat almost insupportable,\\nand as our party crept slowly along over the inter-\\nminable level, the horses hung their heads as they\\nwaded fetlock deep through the mud, and the men\\nslouched into the easiest position upon the saddle.\\nAt last, towards evening, the old familiar black\\nheads of thunder-clouds rose fast above the horizon,", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0083.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "66 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand the same deep muttering of distant thunder that\\nhad become the ordinary accompaniment of our after-\\nnoon s journey began to roll hoarsely over the\\nprairie. Only a few minutes elapsed before the\\nwhole sky was densely slu ouded, and the prairie and\\nsome clusters of woods in front assumed a purple\\nhue beneath the inky shadows. Suddenly from the\\ndensest fold of the cloud the flash leaped out, quiver-\\ning again and again down to the edge of the prairie\\nand at the same instant came the sharp burst and the\\nlong rolling peal of the thunder. A cool wind,\\nfilled with the smell of rain, just then overtook us,\\nlevelling the tall grass by the side of the path.\\nCome on; we must ride for it! shouted Shaw,\\nrushing by at full speed, his led horse snorting at\\nhis side. The whole party broke into full gallop,\\nand made for the trees in front. Passing these, we\\nfound beyond them a meadow which they half\\nenclosed. We rode pell-mell upon the ground,\\nleaped from horseback, tore off our saddles; and in\\na moment each man was kneeling at his horse s feet.\\nThe hobbles were adjusted, and the animals turned\\nloose then, as the wagons came wheeling rapidly to\\nthe spot, we seized upon the tent-poles, and just as\\nthe storm broke, we were prepared to receive it. It\\ncame upon us almost Vv ith the darkness of night:\\nthe trees, which were close at hand, were completely\\nshrouded by the roaring torrents of rain.\\nWe were sitting in the tent when Deslauriers,\\nwith his broad felt hat hanging about his ears, and", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0084.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 57\\nhis shoulders glistening with rain, thrust in his\\nhead.\\nVoulez-vous du souper, tout de suite? I can\\nmake fire, sous la chare tte I b lieve so I try.\\nNever mind supper, man come in out of the rain.\\nDeslauriers accordingly crouched in the entrance,\\nfor modesty would not permit him to intrude\\nfarther.\\nOur tent was none of the best defence against\\nsuch a cataract. The rain could not enter bodily,\\nbut it beat through the canvas in a fine drizzle, that\\nwetted us just as effectually. We sat upon our\\nsaddles with faces of the utmost surliness, while tlie\\nwater dropped from the visors of our caps, and\\ntrickled down our cheeks. My india-rubber cloak\\nconducted twenty little rapid streamlets to the\\nground; and Shaw s blanket coat was saturated like\\na sponge. But what most concerned us was the\\nsight of several puddles of water rapidly accumulat-\\ning; one, in particular, that was gathering around\\nthe tent-pole, threatened to overspread the whole\\narea within the tent, holding forth but an indifferent\\npromise of a comfortable night s rest. Towards\\nsunset, however, the storm ceased as suddenly as it\\nbegan. A bright streak of clear red sky appeared\\nabove the western verge of the prairie, the horizontal\\nrays of the sinking sun streamed through it, and\\nglittered in a thousand prismatic colors upon the\\ndripping groves and the prostrate grass. The pools\\nin the tent dwindled and sunk into the saturated soil.", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0085.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "58 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nBut all our hopes were delusive. Scarcely had\\nnight set in when the tumult broke forth anew.\\nThe thunder here is not like the tame thunder of the 1 1\\nAtlantic coast. Bursting with a terrific crash directly\\nabove our heads, it roared over the boundless waste\\nof prairie, seeming to roll around the whole circle of\\nthe firmament with a peculiar and awful reverbera-\\ntion. The lightning flashed all night, playing with\\nits livid glare upon the neighboring trees, revealing\\nthe vast expanse of the plain, and then leaving us\\nshut in as if by a palpable wall of darkness.\\nIt did not disturb us much. Now and then a peal\\nawakened us, and made us conscious of the electric\\nbattle that was raging, and of the floods that dashed\\nupon the stanch canvas over our heads. We lay\\nupon india-rubber cloths, placed between our blankets\\nand the soil. For a while they excluded the water\\nto admiration; but when at length it accumulated\\nand began to run over the edges, they served equally\\nwell to retain it, so that towards the end of the\\nnight we were unconsciously reposing in small pools\\nof rain.\\nOn finally awaking in the morning the prospect\\nwas not a cheerful one. The rain no longer poured\\nin torrents but it pattered with a quiet pertinacity\\nupon the strained and saturated canvas. We disen-\\ngaged ourselves from our blankets, every fibre of\\nwhich glistened with little bead-like drops of water,\\nand looked out in the vain hope of discovering some\\ntoken of fair weather. The clouds, in lead-colored", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0086.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 59\\nvolumes, rested upon the dismal verge of the prairie,\\nor hung sluggishly overhead, while the earth wore\\nan aspect no more attractive than the heavens, exhibit-\\ning nothing but pools of water, grass beaten down,\\nand mud well trampled by our mules and horses.\\nOur companions tent, with an air of forlorn and\\npassive misery, and their wagons in like manner\\ndrenched and woe-begone, stood not far off. The\\ncaptain was just returning from his morning s inspec-\\ntion of the horses. He stalked through the mist and\\nrain, with his plaid around his shoulders, his little pipe,\\ndingy as an antiquarian relic, projecting from beneath\\nhis moustache, and his brother Jack at his heels.\\nAt noon the sky was clear, and we set out, trailing\\nthrough mud and slime six inches deep. That night\\nwe were spared the customary infliction of the shower-\\nbath.\\nOn the next afternoon we were moving slowly\\nalong, not far from a patch of woods which lay on\\nthe right. Jack C rode a little in advance,\\nThe livelong day he had not spoke\\nwhen suddenly he faced about, pointed to the woods,\\nand roared out to his brother,\\nO Bill! here s a cow.\\nThe captain instantly galloped forward, and he\\nand Jack made a vain attempt to capture the prize\\nbut the cow, with a well-grounded distrust of\\ntheir intentions, took refuge among the trees. R\\njoined them, and they soon drove her out. We watched", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0087.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "60 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ntheir evolutions as they galloped around her, trying\\nin vain to noose her with their trail-ropes, which\\nthey had converted into lariettes for the occasion.\\nAt length they resorted to milder measures, and the\\ncow was driven along with the party. Soon after\\nthe usual thunder-storm came up, the wind blowing\\nwith such fury that the streams of rain flew almost\\nhorizontally along the prairie, roaring like a cataract.\\nThe horses turned tail to the storm, and stood hang-\\ning their heads, bearing the infliction with an air of\\nmeekness and resignation; while we drew our heads\\nbetween our shoulders, and crouched forward, so as\\nto make our backs serve as a pent-house for the rest\\nof our persons. Meanwhile the cow, taking advan-\\ntage of the tumult, ran off, to the great discomfiture\\nof the captain. In defiance of the storm, he pulled\\nhis cap tight over his brows, jerked a huge buffalo-\\npistol from his holster, and set out at full speed after\\nher. This was the last we saw of them for some\\ntime, the mist and rain making an impenetrable veil,\\nbut at length we heard the captain s shout, and saw\\nhim looming through the tempest, the picture of a\\nHibernian cavalier, with his cocked pistol held aloft\\nfor safety s sake, and a countenance of anxiety and\\nexcitement. The cow trotted before him, but ex-\\nhibited evident signs of an intention to run off again,\\nand the captain was roaring to us to head her. But\\nthe rain had got in behind our coat-collars, and was\\ntravelling over our necks ia numerous little stream-\\nlets, and being afraid to move our heads, for fear of", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0088.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 61\\nadmitting more, we sat stiff and immovable, looking\\nat the captain askance, and laughing at his frantic\\nmovements. At last the cow made a sudden plunge\\nand ran off; the captain grasped his pistol firmly,\\nspurred his horse, and galloped after, with evident\\ndesigns of mischief. In a moment we heard the\\nfaint report, deadened by the rain, and then the con-\\nqueror and his victim reappeared, the latter shot\\nthrough the body, and quite helpless. Not long\\nafter, the storm moderated, and we advanced again.\\nThe cow walked painfully along under the charge of\\nJack, to whom the captain had committed her, while\\nhe himself rode forward in his old capacity of vidette.\\nWe were approaching a long line of trees, that fol-\\nlowed a stream stretching across our path, far in\\nfront, when we beheld the vidette galloping towards\\nus apparently much excited, but with a broad grin\\non his face.\\nLet that cow drop behind! he shouted to us;\\nhere s her owners.\\nAnd, in fact, as we approached the line of trees,\\na large white object, like a tent, was visible behind\\nthem. On approaching, however, we found, instead\\nof the expected Mormon camp, nothing but the lonely\\nprairie, and a large white rock standing by the path.\\nThe cow, therefore, resumed her place in our proces-\\nsion. She walked on until we encamped, when R\\napproaching with his English double-barrelled rifle,\\ntook aim at her heart, and discharged into it first one\\nbullet and then the other. She was then butchered", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0089.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "62 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\non the most approved principles of woodcraft, and\\nfurnished a very welcome item to our somewhat\\nlimited bill of fare.\\nIn a day or two more we reached the river called\\nthe Big Blue. By titles equally elegant, almost\\nall the streams of this region are designated. We\\nhad struggled through ditches and little brooks all\\nthat morning; but on traversing the dense woods\\nthat lined the banks of the Blue, we found that more\\nformidable difficulties awaited us, for the stream,\\nswollen by the rains, was wide, deep, and rapid.\\nNo sooner were we on the spot than R flung\\noff his clothes, and swam across, or splashed through\\nthe shallows, with the end of a rope between his\\nteeth. We all looked on in admiration, wondering\\nwhat might be the object of this energetic prepara-\\ntion; but soon we heard him shouting: Give that\\nrope a turn round that stump. You, Sorel do you\\nhear? Look sharp, now, Boisverd. Come over to\\nthis side, some of you, and help me. The men to\\nwhom these orders were directed paid not the least\\nattention to them, though they were poured out\\nwithout pause or intermission. Henry Chatillon\\ndirected the work, and it proceeded quietly and\\nrapidly. R s sharp brattling voice might have\\nbeen heard incessantly; and he was leaping about\\nwith the utmost activity. His commands were\\nrather amusingly inconsistent; for when he saw that\\nthe men would not do as he told them, he accommo-\\ndated himself to circumstances, and with the utmost", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0090.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "THE BIG BLUE. 63\\nvehemence ordered them to do precisely that which\\nthey were at the time engaged npon, no doubt recol-\\nlecting the story of Mahomet and the refractory\\nmountain. Shaw smiled; R observed it, and,\\napproaching with a countenance of indignation, began\\nto vapor a little, but was instantly reduced to\\nsilence.\\nThe raft was at length complete. We piled our\\ngoods upon it, with the exception of our guns, which\\neach man chose to retain in his own keeping. Sorel,\\nBoisverd, Wright, and Deslauriers took their stations\\nat the four corners, to hold it together, and swim\\nacross with it; and in a moment more all our earthly\\npossessions were floating on the turbid waters of the\\nBig Blue. We sat on the bank, anxiously watching\\nthe result, until we saw the raft safe landed in a\\nlittle cove far down on the opposite bank. The\\nempty wagons were easily passed across; and then,\\neach man mounting a horse, we rode through the\\nstream, the stray animals following of their own\\naccord.", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0091.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER VI.\\nTHE PLATTE AND THE DESERT.\\nWe were now at the end of our solitary journey-\\nings along the St. Joseph trail. On the evening of\\nthe twenty-third of May we encamped near its junc\\ntion with the old legitimate trail of the Oregon emi-\\ngrants. We had ridden long that afternoon, trjdng\\nin vam to find wood and water, until at length we\\nsaw the sunset sky reflected from a pool encircled by\\nbushes and rocks. The water lay in the bottom of\\na hollow, the smooth prairie gracefully rising in\\nocean-like swells on every side. We pitched our\\ntents by it; not, however, before the keen eye of\\nHenry Chatillon had discerned some unusual object\\nupon the faintly-defined outline of the distant swell.\\nBut in the moist, hazy atmosphere of the evening,\\nnothing could be clearly distinguished. As we lay\\naround the fire after supper, a low and distant sound,\\nstrange enough amid the loneliness of the prairie,\\nreached our ears, peals of laughter, and the faint\\nvoices of men and women. For eight days we had\\nnot encountered a human being, and this singular\\nwarning of their vicinity had an effect extremely\\nimpressive.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0092.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 65\\nAbout dark a sallow-faced fellow descended the\\nhill on horseback, and splashing through the pool,\\nrode up to the tents. He was enveloped in a huge\\ncloak, and his broad felt hat was weeping about his\\nears with the drizzling moisture of the evening.\\nAnother followed, a stout, square-built, intelligent-\\nlooking man, who announced himself as leader of an\\nemigrant party, encamped a mile in advance of us.\\nAbout twenty wagons, he said, were with him the\\nrest of his party were on the other side of the Big\\nBlue, waiting for a woman who was in the pains\\nof childbirth, and quarrelling meanwhile among\\nthemselves.\\nThese were the first emigrants that we had over-\\ntaken, although we had found abundant and melan-\\ncholy traces of their progress throughout the course\\nof the journey. Sometimes we passed the grave of\\none who had sickened and died on the way. The\\nearth was usually torn ujd, and covered thickly with\\nwolf-tracks. Some had escaped this violation. One\\nmorning, a piece of plank, standing upright on the\\nsummit of a grassy hill, attracted our notice, and\\nriding up to it, we found the following words very\\nroughly traced upon it, apparently with a red-hot\\npiece of iron\\nMARY ELLIS.\\nDied May 7tli, 1845.\\nAGED TWO MONTHS.\\nSuch tokens were of common occurrence.\\nWe were late in breaking up our camp on the fol-", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0093.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "66 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nlowing morning, and scarcely had we ridden a mile\\nwhen we saw, far in advance of us, drawn against\\nthe horizon, a line of objects stretching at regular\\nintervals along the level edge of the prairie. An\\nintervening swell soon hid them from sight, until,\\nascending it a quarter of an hour after, we saw close\\nbefore us the emigrant caravan, with its heavy white\\nwagons creeping on in slow procession, and a large\\ndrove of cattle following behind. Half a dozen yel-\\nlow-visaged Missourians, mounted on horseback, were\\ncursing and shouting among them, their lank angular\\nproportions enveloped in brown homespun, evidently\\ncut and adjusted by the hands of a domestic female\\ntailor. As we approached, they called out to us:\\nHow are ye, boys? Are ye for Oregon or\\nCalifornia?\\nAs we pushed rapidly by the wagons, children s\\nfaces were thrust out from the white coverings to\\nlook at us while the care-worn, thin-featured matron,\\nor the buxom girl, seated in front, suspended the\\nknitting on which most of them were engaged to\\nstare at us with wondering curiosity. By the side of\\neach wagon stalked the proprietor, urging on his\\npatient oxen, who shouldered heavily along, inch by\\ninch, on their interminable journey. It was easy to\\nsee that fear and dissension prevailed among them\\nsome of the men but these, with one exception,\\nwere bachelors looked wistfully upon us as we\\nrode lightly and swiftly by, and then impatiently at\\ntheir own lumbering wagons and heavy-gaited oxen.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0094.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 67\\nOthers were unwilling to advance at all, until the\\nparty they had left behind should have rejoined them.\\nMany were murmuring against the leader they had\\nchosen, and wished to depose him and this discon-\\ntent was fomented by some ambitious spirits, who\\nhad hopes of succeeding in his place. The women\\nwere divided between regrets for the homes they had\\nleft and fear of the deserts and savages before them.\\nWe soon left them far behind, and hoped that Ave\\nhad taken a final leave; but our companions wagon\\nstuck so long in a deep muddy ditch that before it\\nwas extricated the van of the emigrant caravan ap-\\npeared again, descending a ridge close at hand.\\nWagon after wagon plunged through the mud and\\nas it was nearly noon, and the place promised shade\\nand water, we saw with satisfaction that they were\\nresolved to encamp. Soon the wagons were wheeled\\ninto a circle: the cattle were grazing over the\\nmeadow, and the men, with sour, sullen faces, were\\nlooking about for wood and water. They seemed to\\nmeet but indifferent success. As we left the ground,\\nI saw a tall, slouching fellow, with the nasal accent of\\ndown east, contemplating the contents of his tin\\ncup, which he had just filled with water.\\nLook here, you, said he; it s chock-full of\\nanimals\\nThe cup, as he held it out, exhibited in fact an\\nextraordinary variety and profusion of animal and\\nvegetable life.\\nRiding up the little hill, and looking back on the", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0095.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "68 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmeadow, we could easily see that all was not right in\\nthe camp of the emigrants. The men were crowded\\ntogether, and an angry discussion seemed to be going\\nforward. R was missing from his wonted place\\nin the line, and the captain told us that he had re-\\nmained behind to get his horse shod by a blacksmith\\nattached to the emigrant party. Something whispered\\nin our ears that mischief was on foot; we kept on,\\nhowever, and coming soon to a stream of tolerable\\nwater, we stopped to rest and dine. vStill the absentee\\nlingered behind. At last, at the distance of a mile,\\nhe and his horse suddenly appeared, sharply defined\\nagainst the sky on the summit of a hill; and close\\nbehind, a huge white object rose slowly into view.\\nWhat is that blockhead bringing with him now\\nA moment dispelled the mystery. Slowly and\\nsolemnly, one behind the other, four long trains of\\noxen and four emigrant wagons rolled over the crest\\nof the hill and gravely descended, while R rode\\nin state in the van. It seems that, during the process\\nof shoeing the horse, the smothered dissensions among\\nthe emigrants suddenly broke into open rupture.\\nSome insisted on pushing forward, some on remain-\\ning where they were, and some on going back.\\nKearsley, their captain, threw up his command in\\ndisgust. And now, boys, said he, if any of you\\nare for going ahead, just you come along with me.\\nFour wagons, with ten men, one woman, and one\\nsmall child, made up the force of the go-ahead\\nfaction, and R with his usual proclivity toward", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0096.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 69\\nmischief, invited them to join our party. Fear of\\nthe Indians for I can conceive no other motive\\nmust have induced him to court so burdensome an\\nalliance. At all events, the proceeding was a cool\\none. The men who joined us, it is true, were all\\nthat could be desired; rude indeed in manners, but\\nfrank, manly, and intelligent. To tell them we\\ncould not travel with them was out of the question.\\nI merely reminded Kearsley that if his oxen could\\nnot keep up with our mules he must expect to be\\nleft behind, as we could not consent to be farther\\ndelayed on the journey; but he immediately replied,\\nthat his oxen should keep up; and if they couldn t,\\nwhy, he allowed, he d find out how to make em.\\nOn the next day, as it chanced, our English\\ncompanions broke the axle-tree of their wagon, and\\ndown came the whole cumbrous machine lumbering\\ninto the bed of a brook. Here was a day s work cut\\nout for us. Meanwhile our emigrant associates kept\\non their way, and so vigorously did they urge for-\\nward their powerful oxen, that, what with the broken\\naxle-tree and other mishaps, it was full a week before\\nwe overtook them; when at length we discovered\\nthem, one afternoon, crawling quietly along the\\nsandy brink of the Platte. But meanwhile various\\nincidents occurred to ourselves.\\nIt was probable that at this stage of our journey\\nthe Pawnees would attempt to rob us. We began\\ntherefore to stand guard in turn, dividing the night\\ninto three watches, and appointing two men for each,", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0097.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "70 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nDeslauriera and I held guard together. We did not\\nmarch with military precision to and fro before the\\ntents our discipline was by no means so strict. We\\nwrapped ourselves in our blankets, and sat down by\\nthe fire; and Deslauriers, combining his culinary\\nfunctions with his duties as sentinel, employed him-\\nself in boiling the head of an antelope for our break-\\nfast. Yet we were models of vigilance in comparison\\nwith some of the party; for the ordinary practice of\\nthe guard was to lay his rifle on the ground, and, en-\\nveloping his nose in his blanket, meditate on his mis-\\ntress, or whatever subject best pleased him. This is all\\nwell enough when among Indians who do not habitu-\\nally proceed further in their hostility than robbing\\ntravellers of their horses and mules, though, indeed,\\na Pawnee s forbearance is not always to be trusted;\\nbut in certain regions farther to the west, the guard\\nmust beware how he exposes his person to the light\\nof the fire, lest some keen-eyed skulking marksman\\nshould let fly a bullet or an arrow from the darkness.\\nAmong various tales that circulated around our\\ncamp-fire was one told by Boisverd, and not inappro-\\npriate here. He was trapping with several com-\\npanions on the skirts of the Blackfoot country. The\\nman on guard, knowing that it behooved him to\\nput forth his utmost precaution, kept aloof from the\\nfu-e-light, and sat watching intently on all sides. At\\nlength he was aware of a dark, crouching figure,\\nstealing noiselessly into the circle of the light. He\\nhastily cocked his rifle, but the sharp click of the", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0098.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 71\\nlock caught the ear of the Blackfoot, Avhose senses\\nwere all on the alert. Raising his arrow, already\\nfitted to the string, he shot it in the direction of the\\nsound. So sure was his aim, that he drove it through\\nthe throat of the unfortunate guard, and then, with\\na loud yell, bounded from the camp.\\nAs I looked at the partner of my watch, puffing\\nand blomng over his fire, it occurred to me that he\\nmight not prove the most efficient auxiliary in time\\nof trouble.\\nDeslauriers, said I, would you run away if the\\nPawnees should fire at us?\\nAh! oui, oui. Monsieur! he replied veiy de-\\ncisively.\\nAt this instant a whimsical variety of voices,\\nbarks, howls, yelps, and whines, all mingled to-\\ngether, sounded from the prairie, not far off, as if\\na conclave of wolves of every age and sex were\\nassembled there. Deslauriers looked up from his\\nwork with a laugh, and began to imitate this medley\\nof sounds with a ludicrous accuracy. At this they\\nwere repeated with redoubled emphasis, the musician\\nbeing apparently indignant at the successful efforts\\nof a rival. They all proceeded from the throat of\\none little wolf, not larger than a spaniel, seated by\\nhimself at some distance. He was of the species\\ncalled the prairie-wolf: a grim-visaged, but harmless\\nlittle brute, whose worst propensity is creeping among\\nhorses and gnawing the ropes of raw hide by which\\nthey are picketed around the camp. Other beasts", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0099.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "72 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nroam tlie prairies, far more formidable in aspect and\\nin character. Tliese are the large white and gray\\nwolves, whose deep howl we heard at intervals\\nfrom far and near.\\nAt last I fell into a doze, and awaking from it,\\nfound Deslauriers fast asleep. Scandalized by this\\nbreach of discipline, I was about to stimulate his\\nvigilance by stirring him with the stock of my rifle\\nbut, compassion prevailing, I determined to let him\\nsleep awhile, and then arouse him to administer a\\nsuitable reproof for such forgetfulness of duty.\\nNow and then I walked the rounds among the silent\\nhorses, to see that all was right. The night was\\nchill, damp, and dark, the dank grass bending under\\nthe icy dewdrops. At the distance of a rod or two\\nthe tents were invisible, and nothing could be seen\\nbut the obscure figures of the horses, deeply breath-\\ning, and restlessly starting as they slept, or still\\nslowly champing the grass. Far off, beyond the\\nblack outline of the prairie, there was a ruddy light,\\ngradually increasing, like the glow of a conflagration\\nuntil at length the broad disk of the moon, blood-\\nred, and vastly magnified by the vapors, rose slowly\\nupon the darkness, flecked by one or two little\\nclouds, and as the light poured over the gloomy\\nplain, a fierce and stern howl, close at hand, seemed\\nto greet it as an unwelcome intruder. There was\\nsomething impressive and awful in the place and the\\nhour; for I and the beasts were all that had con-\\nBciousness for many a league around.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0100.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. d\\nSome days elapsed, and brought us near the Platte.\\nTwo men on hoi-seback approached us one morning,\\nand we watched them with the curiosity and interest\\nthat, upon the solitude of the plains, such an en-\\ncounter always excites. They were evidently whites,\\nfrom their mode of riding, though, contrary to the\\nusage of that region, neither of them carried a\\nrifle.\\nFools remarked Henry Chatillon, to ride\\nthat way on the prairie Pawnee find them then\\nthey catch it.\\nPawnee had found them, and they had come very\\nnear catching it; indeed, nothing saved them but\\nthe approach of our party. Shaw and I knew one\\nof them, a man named Turner, whom we had seen\\nat Westport. He and his companion belonged to an\\nemigrant party encamped a few miles in advance,\\nand had returned to look for some stray oxen, leaving\\ntheir rifles, with characteristic rashness or ignorance,\\nbehind them. Their neglect had nearly cost them\\ndear for, just before we came up, half-a-dozen\\nIndians approached, and, seeing them apparently\\ndefenceless, one of the rascals seized the bridle of\\nTurner s horse and ordered him to dismount. Turner\\nwas wholly unarmed; but the other jerked a pistol\\nout of his pocket, at which the Pawnee recoiled and\\njust then some of our men appearing in the distance,\\nthe whole party whipped their rugged little horses\\nand made off. In no way daunted, Turner foolishly\\npersisted in going forward.", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0101.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "74 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nLong after leaving him, and late that afternoon,\\nin the midst of a gloomy and barren prairie, we came\\nsuddenly upon the great trail of the Pawnees, lead-\\ning from their villages on the Platte to their war\\nand hunting grounds to the southward. Here every\\nsummer passes the motley concourse: thousands of\\nsavages, men, women, and children, horses and mules,\\nladen with their weapons and implements, and an\\ninnumerable multitude of unruly wolfish dogs, who\\nhave not acquired the civilized accomplishment of\\nbarking, but howl like their wild cousins of the\\nprairie.\\nThe permanent winter villages of the Pawnees\\nstand on the lower Platte, but throughout the sum-\\nmer the greater part of the inhabitants are wandering\\nover the plains, a treacherous, cowardly banditti,\\nwho, by a thousand acts of pillage and murder, have\\ndeserved chastisement at the hands of government.\\nLast year a Dahcotah warrior performed a notable\\nexploit at one of these villages. He approached it\\nalone, in the middle of a dark night, and clambering\\nup the outside of one of the lodges, which are in the\\nform of a half-sphere, looked in at the round hole\\nmade at the top for the escape of smoke. The dusky\\nlight from the embers showed him the forms of the\\nsleeping inmates; and dropping lightly through the\\nopening, he unsheathed his knife, and, stirring\\nthe fire, coolly selected his victims. One by one, he\\nstabbed and scalped them; when a child suddenly\\nawoke and screamed. He rushed from the lodge,", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0102.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 75\\nyelled a Sioux war-cry, shouted his name in triumph\\nand defiance, and darted out upon the dark prairie,\\nleaving the whole village behind him in a tumult,\\nwith the howling and baying of dogs, the screams of\\nwomen, and the yells of the enraged warriors.\\nOur friend Kearsley, as we learned on rejoining\\nhim, signalized himself by a less bloody achievement.\\nHe and his men were good woodsmen, well skilled\\nin the use of the rifle, but found themselves wholly\\nout of their element on the prairie. None of them\\nhad ever seen a buffalo; and they had very vague\\nconceptions of his nature and appearance. On the\\nday after they reached the Platte, looking towards\\na distant swell, they beheld a multitude of little\\nblack specks in motion upon its surface.\\nTake your rifles, boys, said Kearsley, and\\nwe 11 have fresh meat for supper. This inducement\\nwas quite sufficient. The ten men left their wagons,\\nand set out in hot haste, some on horseback and some\\non foot^ in pursuit of the supposed buffalo. Mean-\\nwhile a high, grassy ridge shut the game from view;\\nbut mounting it after half an hour s running and\\nriding, they found themselves suddenly confronted\\nby about thirty mounted Pawnees. Amazement and\\nconsternation were mutual. Having nothing but\\ntheir bows and arrows, the Indians thought their\\nhour was come, and the fate that they were con-\\nscious of richly deserving about to overtake them.\\nSo they began, one and all, to shout forth the most\\ncordial salutations, running up with extreme earnest-", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0103.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "76 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nness to shake hands with the Missourians, who were\\nas much rejoiced as they were to escape the expected\\nconflict.\\nA low, undulating hue of sand-hills bounded the\\nhorizon before us. That day we rode ten hours, and\\nit was dusk before we entered the hollows and gorges\\nof these gloomy little hills. At length we gained\\nthe summit, and the long-expected valley of the\\nPlatte lay before us. We all drew rein, and sat\\njoyfully looking down upon the prospect. It was\\nright welcome; strange, too, and striking to the\\nimagination, and yet it had not one picturesque or\\nbeautiful feature; nor had it any of the features of\\ngrandeur, other than its vast extent, its solitude, and\\nits wildness. For league after league, a plain as\\nlevel as a lake was outspread beneath us; here and\\nthere the Platte, divided into a dozen thread-like\\nsluices, was traversing it, and an occasional clump of\\nwood, rising in the midst like a shadowy island,\\nrelieved the monotony of the waste. No living thing\\nwas moving throughout the vast landscape, except\\nthe lizards that darted over the sand and through\\nthe rank grass and prickly pears at our feet.\\nWe had passed the more tedious part of the jour-\\nney; but four hundred miles still intervened between\\nus and Fort Laramie; and to reach that point cost\\nus the travel of three more weeks. During the\\nwhole of this time we were passing up the middle of\\na long, narrow, sandy plain, reaching like an out-\\nstretched belt nearly to the Rocky Mountains. Two", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0104.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 77\\nlines of sancl-hills, broken often into the wildest and\\nmost fantastic forms, flanked the valley at the dis-\\ntance of a mile or two on the right and left; while\\nbeyond them lay a barren, trackless waste, extending\\nfor hundreds of miles to the Arkansas on the one\\nside, and the Missouri on the other. Before and\\nbehind ns, the level monotony of the plain was\\nunbroken as far as the eye could reach. Sometimes\\nit glared in the sun, an expanse of hot, bare sand\\nsometimes it was veiled by long coarse grass. Skulls\\nand whitening bones of buffalo were scattered every-\\nwhere the ground was tracked by myriads of them,\\nand often covered with the circular indentations\\nwhere the bulls had wallowed in the hot weather.\\nFrom every gorge and ravine, opening from the hills,\\ndescended deep, well-worn paths, where the buffalo\\nissue twice a day in regular procession to drink in\\nthe Platte. The river itself runs through the midst,\\na thin sheet of rapid, turbid water, half a mile wide,\\nand scarcely two feet deep. Its low banks, for the\\nmost part without a bush or a tree, are of loose sand,\\nwith which the stream is so charged that it grates on\\nthe teeth in drinking. The naked landscape is, of\\nitself, dreary and monotonous enough; and yet the\\nwild beasts and wild men that frequent the valley of\\nthe Platte make it a scene of interest and excite-\\nment to the traveller. Of those who have journeyed\\nthere, scarcely one, perhaps, fails to look back with\\nfond resrret to his horse and his rifle.\\nEarly in the morning after we reached the Platte,", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0105.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "78 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\na long procession of squalid savages approached our\\ncamp. Each was on foot, leading his horse by a\\nrope of bull-hide. His attire consisted merely of a\\nscanty cincture, and an old buffalo robe, tattered and\\nbegrimed by use, which hung over his shoulders.\\nHis head was close shaven, except a ridge of hair\\nreaching over the crown from the middle of the fore-\\nhead, very much like the long bristles on the back\\nof a hyena, and he carried his bow and arrows in his\\nhand, while his meagre little horse was laden with\\ndried buffalo meat, the produce of his hunting. Such\\nwere the first specimens that we met and very\\nindifferent ones they were of the genuine savages\\nof the prairie.\\nThey were the Pawnees whom Kearsley had\\nencountered the day before, and belonged to a large\\nhunting-party, known to be ranging the prairie in the\\nvicinity. They strode rapidly by, within a furlong\\nof our tents, not pausing or looking towards us, after\\nthe manner of Indians when meditating mischief, or\\nconscious of ill desert. I went out to meet them,\\nand had an amicable conference with the chief, pre-\\nsenting him with half a pound of tobacco, at which\\nunmerited bounty he expressed much gratification.\\nThese fellows, or some of their companions, had\\ncommitted a dastardly outrage upon an emigrant\\nparty in advance of us. Two men, at a distance\\nfrom the rest, were seized by them, but, lasliing\\ntheir horses, they broke away and fled. At this the\\nPawnees raised the yell and shot at them, transfixing", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0106.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT. 79\\nthe ]iindmost through the hack with several arrows,\\nwhile his companion galloped away and hrought in\\nthe news to his party. The panic-stricken emigrants\\nremained for several days in camp, not daring even\\nto send out in quest of the dead body.\\nOur New-England climate is mild and equable\\ncompared with that of the Platte. This very morn-\\ning, for instance, was close and sultry, the sun rising\\nwith a faint oppressive heat; when suddenly darkness\\ngathered in the west, and a furious blast of sleet and\\nhail drove full in our faces, icy cold, and urged with\\nsuch demoniac vehemence that it felt like a storm of\\nneedles. It was curious to see the horses; they\\nfaced about in extreme displeasure, holding their\\ntails like whipped dogs, and shivering as the angry\\ngusts, howling louder than a concert of wolves,\\nswept over us. Wright s long train of mules came\\nsweeping round before the storm, like a flight of\\nsnow-birds driven by a winter tempest. Thus we\\nall remained stationary for some minutes, crouching\\nclose to our horses necks, much too surly to speak,\\nthough once the captain looked up from between the\\ncollars of his coat, his face blood-red, and the muscles\\nof his mouth contracted by the cold into a most ludi-\\ncrous grin of agony. He grumbled something that\\nsounded like a curse, directed, as we believed, against\\nthe unhappy hour when he had first thought of\\nleaving home. The thing was too good to last long;\\nand the instant the puffs of wind subsided we pitched\\nour tents, and remained in camp for the rest of a", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0107.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "80 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ngloomy and lowering day. The emigrants also en-\\ncamped near at hand. We being first on the ground,\\nhad appropriated all the wood within reach; so that\\nour fire alone blazed cheerily. Around it soon gath-\\nered a group of uncouth figures, shivering in the\\ndrizzling rain. Consj^icuous among them were two\\nor three of the half-savage men who spend their reck-\\nless lives in trapping among the Rocky Mountains,\\nor in trading for the Fur Company in the Indian\\nvillages. They were all of Canadian extraction;\\ntheir hard, weather-beaten faces and bushy mous-\\ntaches looked out from beneath the hoods of their\\nwhite capotes with a bad and brutish expression, as\\nif their owners might be the willing agents of any\\nvillany. And such in fact is the character of many\\nof these men.\\nOn the day following we overtook Kearsley s\\nwagons, and thenceforward, for a week or two, we\\nwere fellow-travellers. One good effect, at least,\\nresulted from the alliance; it materially diminished\\nthe fatigues of standing guard; for the party being\\nnow more numerous, there were longer intervals\\nbetween each man s turns of duty.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0108.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER VII.\\nTHE BUFFALO.\\nFour days on the Platte, and yet no buffalo Last\\nyear s signs of them were provokingly abundant and\\nwood being extremely scarce, we found an admirable\\nsubstitute in the hois de vache, which burns like peat,\\nproducing no unpleasant effects. The wagons one\\nmorning had left the camp; Shaw and I were already\\non horseback, but Henry Chatillon still sat cross-\\nlegged by the dead embers of the fire, playing pen-\\nsively with the lock of his rifle, while his sturdy\\nWyandot pony stood quietly behind him, looking\\nover his head. At last he got up, patted the neck of\\nthe pony (which, from an exaggerated appreciation\\nof his merits, he had christened Five Hundred\\nDollar and then mounted, with a melancholy\\nair.\\nWhat is it, Henry?\\nAh, I feel lonesome; I never been here before\\nbut I see away yonder over the buttes, and down\\nthere on the prairie, black all black with buffalo.\\nIn the afternoon he and I left the party in search\\nof an antelope, until, at the distance of a mile or\\ntwo on the right, the tall white wagons and the little\\n6", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0109.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "82 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nblack specks of horsemen were just visible, so slowlj\\nadvancing that they seemed motionless; and far on\\nthe left rose the broken line of scorched, desolate\\nsand-hills. The vast plain waved with tall rank grass,\\nthat swept our horses bellies; it swayed to and fro\\nin billows with the light breeze, and far and near\\nantelope and wolves were moving through it, the\\nhairy backs of the latter alternately appearing and\\ndisappearing as they bounded awkwardly along;\\nwhile the antelope, with the simple curiosity peculiar\\nto them, would often approach us closely, their little\\nhorns and white throats just visible above the grass-\\ntops, as they gazed eagerly at us with their round\\nblack eyes.\\nI dismounted, and amused myself with firing at the\\nwolves. Henry attentively scrutinized the surround-\\ning landscape at length he gave a shout, and called\\non me to mount again, pointing in the direction of\\nthe sand-hills. A mile and a half from us two black\\nspecks slowly traversed the bare glaring face of one\\nof them, and disappeared behind the summit. Let\\nus go! cried Henr}-, belaboring the sides of Five\\nHundred Dollar; and I following in his wake, we\\ngalloped rapidly through the rank grass toward the\\nbase of the hills.\\nFrom one of their openings descended a deep\\nravine, widening as it issued on the prairie. We\\nentered it, and galloping up, in a moment were sur-\\nrounded by the bleak sand-hills. Half of their steep\\nsides were bare the rest were scantily clothed with", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0110.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 83\\nchimps of grass, and various uncouth plants, con-\\nspicuous among which appeared the rcptile-hke\\nprickly-pear. They were gashed with numberless\\nravines and as the sky had suddenly darkened, and\\na cold gusty wind arisen, the strange shrubs and the\\ndreary hills looked doubly wild and desolate. But\\nHenry s face was all eagerness. He tore off a little\\nhair from the piece of buffalo-robe under his saddle,\\nand threw it up, to show the course of the wind. It\\nblew directly before us. The game were therefore to\\nleeward, and it was necessary to make our best\\nspeed to get round them.\\nWe scrambled from this ravine, and, galloping\\naway through the hollows, soon found another, wind-\\ning like a snake among the hills, and so deep that it\\ncompletely concealed us. We rode up the bottom of\\nit, glancing through the bushes at its edge, till\\nHenry abruptly jerked his rein, and slid out of his\\nsaddle. Full a quarter of a mile distant, on the out-\\nline of the farthest hill, a long procession of buffalo\\nwere walking, in Indian file, with the utmost gravity\\nand deliberation then more appeared, clambering\\nfrom a hollow not far off, and ascending, one behind\\nthe other, the grassy slope of another hill; then a\\nshaggy head and a pair of short broken horns issued\\nout of a ravine close at hand, and with a slow, stately\\nstej^, one by one, the enormous brutes came into\\nview, taking their way across the valley, wholly\\nunconscious of an enemy. In a moment Henry was\\nworming his way, lying flat on the ground, through", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0111.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "84 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ngrass and prickly-pears, towards liis unsuspecting\\nvictims. He had with him both my rifle and his\\nown. He was soon out of sight, and still the buffalo\\nkept issuing into the valley. For a long time all was\\nsilent; I sat holding his horse, and wondering what\\nhe was about, when suddenly, in rapid succession,\\ncame the sharp reports of the two rifles, and the whole\\nline of buffalo, quickening their pace into a clumsy\\ntrot, gradually disappeared over the ridge of the hill.\\nHenry rose to his feet, and stood looking after them.\\nYou have missed them, said I.\\nYes, said Henry; let us go. He descended\\ninto the ravine, loaded the rifles, and mounted his\\nhorse.\\nWe rode up the hill after the buffalo. The herd\\nwas out of sight when w^e reached the top, but Ijdng\\non the grass, not far off, was one quite lifeless, and\\nanother violently struggling in the death-agony.\\nYou see I miss him! remarked Henry. He had\\nfired from a distance of more than a hundred and\\nfifty yards, and both balls had passed through the\\nlungs, the true mark in shooting buffalo.\\nThe darkness increased, and a driving storm came\\non. Tying our horses to the horns of the victims,\\nHenry began the bloody work of dissection, slashing\\naway -with the science of a connoisseur, while I\\nvainly tried to imitate him. Old Hendrick recoiled\\nwith horror and indignation when I endeavored to tie\\nthe meat to the strings of raw hide, always carried\\nfor this purpose, dangling at the back of the saddle.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0112.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 85\\nAfter some difficult} we overcame his scruples and,\\nheavily burdened with the more eligible portions of\\nthe buffalo, we set out on our return. Scarcely had\\nwe emerged from the labyrinth of gorges and ravines,\\nand issued upon the open prairie, when the prickling\\nsleet came driving, gust upon gust, directly in our\\nfaces. It was strangely dark, though wanting still\\nan hour of sunset. The freezing storm soon pene-\\ntrated to the skin, but the uneasy trot of our heavy-\\ngaited horses kept us warm enough, as we forced\\nthem unwillingly in the teeth of the sleet and rain,\\nby the powerful suasion of our Indian whips. The\\nprairie in this place was hard and level. A flourish-\\ning colony of prairie-dogs had burrowed into it in\\nevery direction, and the little mounds of fresh earth\\naround their holes were about as numerous as the\\nhills in a cornfield but not a yelp was to be heard\\nnot the nose of a single citizen was visible all had\\nretired to the depths of their burrows, and we envied\\nthem their dry and comfortable habitations. An\\nhour s hard riding showed us our tent dimly looming\\nthrough the storm, one side puffed out by the force\\nof the wind, and the other collapsed in proportion,\\nwhile the disconsolate horses stood shivering close\\naround, and the wind kept up a dismal whistling in\\nthe boughs of three old half-dead trees above. Shaw,\\nlike a patriarch, sat on his saddle in the entrance,\\nwith a pipe in his mouth and his arms folded, con-\\ntemplating, with cool satisfaction, the piles of meat\\nthat we flung on the ground before him. A dark", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0113.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "86 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand dreary night succeeded but the sun rose, with a\\nheat so sultry and languid that the captain excused\\nhimself on that account from waylaying an old\\nbuffalo bull, who with stujiid gravity was walking\\nover the prairie to drink at the river. So much for\\nthe climate of the Platte.\\nBut it was not the weather alone that had produced\\nthis sudden abatement of the sportsman -like zeal\\nwhich the captain had always professed. He had\\nbeen out on the afternoon before, together with\\nseveral members of his party but tlieir hunting was\\nattended with no other result than the loss of one of\\ntheir best horses, severely injured by Sorel, in vainly\\nchasing a wounded bull. The captain, whose ideas\\nof hard riding were all derived from transatlantic\\nsources, expressed the utmost amazement at the feats\\nof Sorel, who went leaping ravines, and dashing at\\nfull speed up and down the sides of precipitous hills,\\nlashing his horse with the recklessness of a Rocky\\nMountain rider. Unfortunately for the poor animal,\\nhe was the property of R against whom Sorel\\nentertained an unbounded aversion. The captain\\nhimself, it seemed, had also attempted to run a\\nbuffalo, bat though a good and practised horseman,\\nhe had soon given over the attempt, being astonished\\nand utterly disgusted at the nature of the ground he\\nwas required to ride over.\\nHere s old Papin and Frederic, down from Fort\\nLaramie, shouted Henry, as we returned from a\\nreconnoitring tour on the next morning. We had", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0114.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 87\\nfor some days expected this encounter. Papin was\\nthe bourgeois^ or boss, of Fort Laramie. He had\\ncome down the river with the buffalo-robes and the\\nbeaver, the produce of the last winter s trading. I\\nhad among our baggage a letter which I wished to\\ncommit to their hands so requesting Henry to detain\\nthe boats if he could until my return, I set out after\\nthe wagons. They were about four miles in advance.\\nIn half an hour I overtook them, got the letter,\\ntrotted back upon the trail, and looking carefully, as\\nI rode, saAV a patch of broken storm-blasted trees,\\nand, moving near them, some little black specks like\\nmen and horses. Arriving at the place, I found a\\nstrange assembly. The boats, eleven in number, deep-\\nladen with the skins, hugged close to the shore, to\\nescape being borne down by the swift current. The\\nrowers, swarthy ignoble Mexicans, turned their\\nbrutish faces upwards to look, as I reached the bank.\\nPapin sat in the middle of one of the boats, upon the\\ncanvas covering that protected the cargo. He was a\\nstout, robust fellow, with a little gray eye, that had a\\npeculiarly sly twinkle. Frederic, also, stretched\\nhis tall raw-boned proportions close by the bourgeois,\\nand mountain men completed the group some\\nlounging in the boats, some strolling on shore some\\nattired in gayly-painted buffalo robes, like Indian\\ndandies; some with hair saturated with red paint,\\nand plastered with glue to their temples; and one\\nbedaubed with vermilion upon the forehead and each\\ncheek. They were a mongrel race; yet the French", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0115.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "88 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nblood seemed to predominate in a few, indeed, might\\nbe seen the black snaky eye of the Indian half-breed,\\nand, one and all, they seemed to aim at assimilating\\nthemselves to their red associates.\\nI shook hands with the lom geois, and delivered\\nthe letter; then the boats swung round into the\\nstream and floated away. They had reason for\\nhaste, for already the voyage from Fort Laramie had\\noccupied a full month, and the river was growing\\ndaily more shallow. Fifty times a day the boats had\\nbeen aground indeed, those who navigate the Platte\\ninvariably spend half their time upon sand-bars.\\nTwo of these boats, the property of private traders,\\nafterwards separating from the rest, got hopelessly\\ninvolved in the shallows, not very far from the\\nPawnee villages, and were soon surrounded by a\\nswarm of the inhabitants. They carried off every-\\nthing that they thought valuable, including most of\\nthe robes; and amused themselves by tying up the\\nmen left on guard, and soundly whipping them with\\nsticks.\\nWe encamped that night upon the bank of the\\nriver. Among the emigrants was an overgrown boy,\\nsome eighteen years old, with a head as round and\\nabout as large as a pumpkin, and fever-and-ague fits\\nhad dyed his face of a corresponding color. He wore\\nan old white hat, tied under his chin with a hand-\\nkerchief his body was short and stout, but his legs\\nwere of disproportioned and appalling length. I\\nobserved him at sunset, breasting the hill with", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0116.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 89\\ngigantic strides, and standing against the sky on the\\nsummit, like a colossal pair of tongs. In a moment\\nafter we heard him screaming frantically behind the\\nridge, and nothing doubting that he was in the\\nclutches of Indians or grizzly bears, some of the party\\ncaught up their rifles and ran to the rescue. His\\noutcries, however, were but an ebullition of joyous\\nexcitement; he had chased two wolf pups to their\\nburrow, and was on his knees, grubbing away like a\\ndog at the mouth of the hole, to get at them.\\nBefore morning he caused more serious disquiet in\\nthe camp. It was his turn to hold the middle-guard\\nbut no sooner was he called up than he coolly ar-\\nranged a pair of saddle-bags under a wagon, laid his\\nhead upon them, closed his eyes, opened his mouth,\\nand fell asleep. The guard on our side of the camp,\\nthinking it no part of his duty to look after the cattle\\nof the emigrants, contented himself with watching\\nour own horses and mules the wolves, he said, were\\nunusually noisy but still no mischief was anticipated\\nuntil the sun rose, when not a hoof or horn was in\\nsight. The cattle were gone. While Tom was\\nquietly slumbering, the wolves had driven them\\naway.\\nThen we reaped the fruits of R s precious plan\\nof travelling in company with emigrants. To leave\\nthem in their distress was not to be thought of, and\\nwe felt bound to wait until the cattle could be\\nsearched for, and, if possible, recovered. But the\\nreader may be curious to know what punishment", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0117.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "90 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nawaited the faithless Tom. By the wholesome law\\nof the prairie, he who falls asleep on guard is con-\\ndemned to walk all day, leading his horse by the\\nbridle; and we found much fault with our com-\\npanions for not enforcing such a sentence on the\\noffender. Nevertheless, had he been of our own\\nparty, I have no doubt that he would in like manner\\nhave escaped scot-free. But the emigrants went\\nfarther than mere forbearance they decreed that since\\nTom couldn t stand guard without falling asleep, he\\nshouldn t stand guard at all, and henceforward his\\nslumbers were unbroken. Establishing such a pre-\\nmium on drowsiness could have no very beneficial\\neffect upon the vigilance of our sentinels; for it is\\nfar from agreeable, after riding from sunrise to sun-\\nset, to feel youi slumbers interrupted by the butt of\\na rifle nudging your side, and a sleepy voice growling\\nin your ear that you must get up, to shiver and freeze\\nfor three weary hours at midnight.\\nBuffalo! buffalo! It was but a grim old bull,\\nroaming the prairie by himself in misanthroj)ic seclu-\\nsion; but there might be more behind the hills.\\nDreading the monotony and languor of the camp,\\nShaw and I saddled our horses, buckled our holsters\\nin their places, and set out with Henry Chatillon in\\nsearch of the game. Henry, not intending to take part\\nin the chase, but merely conducting us, carried his rifle\\nwith him, while we left ours behind as encumbrances.\\nWe rode for some five or six miles, and saw no liv-\\ning thing but wolves, snakes, and prairie-dogs.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0118.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 91\\nThis won t do at all, said Shaw.\\nWhat won t do?\\nThere s no wood about here to make a litter for\\nthe wounded man I have an idea that one of us will\\nneed something of the sort before the day is over.\\nThere was some foundation for such an idea, for\\nthe ground was none of the best for a race, and grew\\nworse continually as we proceeded; indeed, it soon\\nbecame desperately bad, consisting of abrupt hills\\nand deep hollov\u00c2\u00bb^s, cut by frequent ravines not easy\\nto pass. At length, a mile in advance, we saw a band\\nof bulls. Some were scattered grazing over a green\\ndeclivity, while the rest were crowded together in the\\nwide hollow below. Making a circuit, to keep out of\\nsight, we rode towards them, until we ascended a\\nhill, within a furlong of them, beyond which nothing\\nintervened that could possibly screen us from their\\nview. We dismounted behind the ridge, just out of\\nsight, drew our saddle-girths, examined our pistols,\\nand mounting again, rode over the hill, and descended\\nat a canter towards them, bending close to our horses\\nnecks. Instantly they took the alarm: those on the\\nhill descended, those below gathered into a mass,\\nand the whole got into motion, shouldering each\\nother along at a clumsy gallop. We followed,\\nspurring our horses to full speed; and as the herd\\nrushed, crowding and trampling in terror through an\\nopening in the hills, we were close at their heels, half\\nsuffocated by the clouds of dust. But as we drew\\nnear, their alarm and speed increased; our horses,", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0119.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "92 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbeing new to the work, showed signs of the utmost\\nfear, bounding violently aside as we approached, and\\nrefusing to enter among the herd. The buffalo now\\nbroke into several small bodies, scampering over the\\nhills in different directions, and I lost sight of Shaw\\nneither of us knew where the other had gone. Old\\nPontiac ran like a frantic elephant up hill and down\\nhill, his ponderous hoofs striking the prairie like\\nsledge-hammers. He showed a curious mixture of\\neagerness and terror, straining to overtake the panic-\\nstricken herd, but constantly recoiling in dismay as\\nwe drew near. The fugitives, indeed, offered no\\nvery attractive spectacle, with their shaggy manes\\nand the tattered remnants of their last winter s hair\\ncovering their backs in irregular shreds and patches,\\nand flying off in the wind as they ran. At length I\\nurged my horse close behind a bull, and after trying\\nin vain, by blows and spurring, to bring him along-\\nside, I fired from this disadvantageous position. At\\nthe report Pontiac swerved so much that I was again\\nthrown a little behind the game. The bullet, enter-\\ning too much in the rear, failed to disable the bull\\nfor a buffalo requires to be shot at particular points,\\nor he will certainly escape. The herd ran up a hill,\\nand I followed in pursuit. As Pontiac rushed head-\\nlong down on the other side, I saw Shaw and Henry\\ndescending the hollow on the right, at a leisurely gal-\\nlop and in front, the buffalo were just disappearing\\nbehind the crest of the next hill, their short tails erect,\\nand their hoofs twinkling through a cloud of dust.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0120.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 93\\nAt that moment I heard Shaw and Henry shouting\\nto me but the muscles of a stronger arm than mine\\ncould not have checked at once the furious course of\\nPontiac, whose mouth was as insensible as leather.\\nAdded to this, I rode him that morning with a snaffle,\\nhaving the day before, for the benefit of my other\\nhorse, unbuckled from my bridle the curb which I\\ncommonly used. A stronger and hardier brute never\\ntrod the prairie but the novel sight of the buffalo\\nfilled him with terror, and when at full speed he was\\nalmost incontrollable. Gaining the top of the ridge,\\nI saw nothing of the buffalo they had all vanished\\namid the intricacies of the hills and hollows. Reload-\\ning my pistols, in the best way I could, I galloped\\non until I saw them again scuttling along at the base\\nof the hill, their panic somewhat abated. Down\\nwent old Pontiac among them, scattering them to the\\nright and left; and then we had another long chase.\\nAbout a dozen bulls were before us, scouring over\\nthe hills, rushing down the declivities with tre-\\nmendous weight and impetuosity, and then laboring\\nwith a weary gallop upward. Still Pontiac, in spite\\nof spurring and beating, would not close with them.\\nOne bull at length fell a little behind the rest, and\\nby dint of much effort, I urged my horse within six\\nor eight yards of his side. His back was darkened\\nwith sweat he was panting heavily, while his tongue\\nlolled out a foot from his jaws. Gradually I came\\nup abreast of him, urging Pontiac with leg and rein\\nnearer to his side, when suddenly he did what buffalo", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0121.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "94 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nin such circumstances will always do: he slackened\\nhis gallop, and turning towiu^ds us, with an aspect of\\nmingled rage and distress, lowered his huge, shaggy\\nhead for a charge. Pontiac, with a snort, leaped\\naside in terror, nearly throwing me to the ground, as\\nI was wholly unprepared for such an evolution. I\\nraised my pistol in a passion to strike him on the\\nhead, but thinking better of it, fired the bullet after\\nthe bull, who had resumed his flight then drew rein,\\nand determined to rejoin my companions. It was\\nhigh time. The breath blew hard from Pontiac s\\nnostrils, and the sweat rolled in big drops down his\\nsides; I myself felt as if drenched in warm water.\\nPledging myself to take my revenge at a future\\nopportunity, I looked about for some indications to\\nshow me where I was, and what course I ought to\\npursue; I might as well have looked for landmarks\\nin the midst of the ocean. How many miles I had\\nrun, or in what direction, I had no idea; and around\\nme the prairie was rolling in steep swells and pitches,\\nwithout a single distinctive feature to guide me. I\\nhad a little compass hung at my neck and, ignorant\\nthat the Platte at this point diverged considerably\\nfrom its easterly course, I thought that by keeping\\nto the northward I should certainly reach it. So I\\nturned and rode about two hours in that direction.\\nThe prairie changed as I advanced, softening away\\ninto easier undulations, but nothing like the Platte\\nappeared, nor any sign of a human being: the same\\nwild endless expanse lay around me still and to all", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0122.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 95\\nappearance I was as far from my object as ever. I\\nbegan now to think myself in danger of being lost,\\nand, reining in my horse, summoned the scanty share\\nof woodcraft that I possessed (if that term is appli-\\ncable upon the prairie) to extricate me. It occurred\\nto me that the buffalo might prove my best guides.\\nI soon found one of the paths made by them in their\\npassage to the river: it ran nearly at right angles to\\nmy course; but turning my horse s head in the direc-\\ntion it indicated, his freer gait and erected ears\\nassured me that I was right.\\nBut in the mean time my ride had been by no\\nmeans a solitary one. The face of the country was\\ndotted far and wide with countless hundreds of\\nbuffalo. They trooped along in files and columns,\\nbulls, cows, and calves, on the green faces of the\\ndeclivities in front. They scrambled away over the\\nhills to the right and left; and far off, the pale blue\\nswells in the extreme distance were dotted with\\ninnumerable specks. Sometimes I surprised shaggy\\nold bulls grazing alone, or sleeping behind the ridges\\nI ascended. They would leap up at my approach,\\nstare stupidly at me through their tangled manes, and\\nthen gallop heavily away. The antelope were very\\nnumerous and as they are always bold when in the\\nneighborhood of buffalo, they would approach to look\\nat me, gaze intently with their great round eyes, then\\nsuddenly leap aside, and stretch lightly away over\\nthe prairie, as swiftly as a race-horse. Squalid,\\nruffian-like wolves sneaked through the hollows and", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0123.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "96 THE OREGOX TRAIL.\\nsandy ravines. Several times I passed through vil-\\nlages of prairie-dogs, who sat, each at the mouth of\\nhis burrow, holding his paws before him in a suppli-\\ncating attitude, and yelping away most vehemently,\\nwhisking his little tail with every squeaking cry he\\nuttered. Prairie-dogs are not fastidious in their\\nchoice of companions various long checkered snakes\\nwere sunning themselves in the midst of the village,\\nand demure little gray owls, with a large white ring\\naround each eye, were perched side by side with the\\nrightful inhabitants. The prairie teemed with life.\\nAgain and again I looked toward the crowded hill-\\nsides, and was sure I saw horsemen; and riding\\nnear, with a mixture of hope and dread, for Indians\\nwere abroad, I found them transformed into a\\ngroup of buffalo. There was nothing in human\\nshape amid all this vast congregation of brute\\nforms.\\nWhen I turned down the buffalo path, the prairie\\nseemed changed; only a wolf or two glided by at\\nintervals, like conscious felons, never looking to the\\nright or left. Being now free from anxiety, I was at\\nleisure to observe minutely the objects around me;\\nand here, for the first time, I noticed insects wholly\\ndifferent from any of the varieties found farther to\\nthe eastward. Gaudy butterflies fluttered about my\\nhorse s head strangely formed beetles, glittering\\nwith metallic lustre, were crawling upon plants that\\nI had never seen before multitudes of lizards, too,\\nwere darting like lightning over the sand.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0124.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 97\\nI had run to a great distance from the river. It\\ncost me a long ride on the buffalo path, before I saw,\\nfrom the ridge of a sand-hill, the pale surface of the\\nPlatte glistening in the midst of its desert valley,\\nand the faint outline of the hills beyond waving along\\nthe sky. From where I stood, not a tree nor a bush\\nnor a living thing was visible throughout the whole\\nextent of the sun-scorched landscape. In half an\\nhour I came upon the trail, not far from the river;\\nand seeing that the party had not yet passed, I turned\\neastward to meet them, old Pontiac s long swinging\\ntrot again assuring me that I was right in doing so.\\nHaving been slightly ill on leaving camp in the\\nmorning, six or seven hours of rough riding had\\nfatigued me extremely. I soon stopped, therefore,\\nflung my saddle on the ground, and with my head\\nresting on it, and my horse s trail-rope tied loosely to\\nmy arm, lay waiting the arrival of the party, specu-\\nlating meanwhile on the extent of the injuries\\nPontiac had received. At length the white wagon\\ncoverings rose from the verge of the plain. By a\\nsingular coincidence, almost at the same moment\\ntwo horsemen appeared coming down from the hills.\\nThey were Shaw and Henry, v/ho had searched for\\nme awhile in the morning, but well knowing the\\nfutility of the attempt in such a broken country, had\\nplaced themselves on the top of the highest hill they\\ncould find, and picketing their horses near them, as a\\nsignal to me, had lain down and fallen asleep. The\\nstray cattle had been recovered, as the emigrants told\\n7", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0125.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "98 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nus, about noon. Before sunset, we pushed fomvard\\neiglit miles farther.\\nJune 7, 1846. Four men are missing R Sorel,\\nand two emigrants. They set out this morning after\\nbuffalo, and have not yet made their appearance; whether\\nkilled or lost, we cannot tell.\\nI find the above in my note-book, and well remem-\\nber the council held on the occasion. Our fire was\\nthe scene of it; for the superiority of Henry Chatil-\\nlon s experience and skill made him the resort of the\\nwhole camp upon every question of difficulty. He\\nwas moulding bullets at the fire, when the captain\\ndrew near, with a perturbed and careworn expres-\\nsion of countenance, faithfully reflected on the heavy\\nfeatures of Jack, who followed close behind. Then\\nthe emicjrants came straggfling from their wagons\\ntowards the common centre. Various suggestions\\nwere made, to account for the absence of the four\\nmen, and one or two of the emigrants declared that,\\nwhen out after the cattle, they had seen Indians dog-\\nging them, and crawling like wolves along the ridges\\nof the hills. At this the captain slowly shook his\\nhead with double gravity, and solemnly remarked,\\nIt s a serious tliino- to be travellinsf throusch this\\ncursed wilderness an opinion in which Jack imme-\\ndiately expressed a thorough coincidence. Henry\\nwould not commit himself by declaring any positive\\nopinion.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0126.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO. 99\\nMaybe he only followed the buffalo too far;\\nmaybe Indian kill him; maybe he got lost; I cannot\\ntell.\\nWith this the auditors were obliged to rest content;\\nthe emigrants, not in the least alarmed, though\\ncurious to know what had become of their comrades,\\nwalked back to their wagons, and the captain betook\\nhimself pensively to his tent. Shaw and I followed\\nhis example.\\nLore.", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0127.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER VIII.\\nTAKING FRENCH LEAVE.\\nOn the eighth of June, at eleven o clock, we\\nreached the South Fork of the Platte, at the usual\\nfording-place. For league upon league the desert\\nuniformity of the prospect was almost unbroken the\\nhills were dotted with little tufts of shrivelled grass,\\nbut betwixt these the white sand was glaring in the\\nsun and the channel of the river, almost on a level\\nwith the plain, was but one great sand-bed, about\\nhalf a mile wide. It was covered with water, but so\\nscantily that the bottom was scarcely hidden; for,\\nwide as it is, the average depth of the Platte does\\nnot at this point exceed a foot and a half. Stopping\\nnear its bank, we gathered hois de vache, and made a\\nmeal of buffalo-meat. Far off, on the other side, was\\na green meadow, where we could see the v/hite tents\\nand wagons of an emigrant camp; and just opposite\\nto us we could discern a group of men and animals\\nat the water s edge. Four or five horsemen soon\\nentered the river, and in ten minutes had waded\\nacross and clambered up the loose sand-bank. They\\nwere ill-looking fellows, thin and swarthy, with\\ncareworn anxious faces, and lips rigidly compressed.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0128.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. lul\\nTliey had good cause for anxiety it was three days\\nsince they first encamped liere, and on the night of\\ntheir arrival they had lost a hundred and twenty-\\nthree of their best cattle, driven off by the wolves,\\nthrough the neglect of the man on guard. This dis-\\ncouraging and alarming calamity was not the first\\nthat had overtaken them. Since leaving the settle-\\nments they had met with nothing but misfortune.\\nSome of their party had died; one man had been\\nkilled by the Pawnees and about a week before they\\nhad been plundered by the Dahcotahs of all their\\nbest horses, the wretched animals on which our visi-\\ntors were mounted being the onl}^ ones that were left.\\nThey had encamped, they told us, near sunset, by\\nthe side of the Platte, and their oxen were scattered\\nover the meadow, while the horses were feeding a\\nlittle farther off. Suddenly the ridges of the hills\\nwere alive with a swarm of mounted Indians, at least\\nsix hundred in number, who came pouring with a\\nyell down towards the camp, rushing up within a few\\nrods, to the great terror of the emigrants; when,\\nsuddenly wheeling, they swept around the band of\\nhorses, and in five minutes disappeared with their\\nprey through the openings of the hills.\\nAs these emigrants were telling their story, we\\nsaw four other men approaching. They proved to\\nbe R and his companions, who had encountered\\nno mischance of any kind, but had only wandered\\ntoo far in pursuit of the game. They said they had\\nseen no Indians, but only millions of buffalo; and", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0129.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "102 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nboth R and Sorel had meat danghng behind their\\nsaddles.\\nThe emigrants recrossed the river, and we prepared\\nto follow. First the heavy ox-wagons plunged down\\nthe bank, and dragged slowly over the sand-beds;\\nsometimes the hoofs of the oxen were scarcely wet\\nby the thin sheet of water; and the next moment the\\nriver would be boiling against their sides, and eddy-\\ning around the wheels. Inch by inch they receded\\nfrom the shore, dwindling every moment, until at\\nlength they seemed to be floating far out in the\\nmiddle of the river. A more critical experiment\\nawaited us for our little mule-cart was ill fitted for\\nthe passage of so swift a stream. We watched it\\nwith anxiety, till it seemed a motionless white speck\\nin the midst of the waters and it was motionless, for\\nit had stuck fast in a quicksand. The mules were\\nlosing their footing, the wheels were sinking deeper\\nand deeper, and the water began to rise through the\\nbottom and drench the goods within. All of us who\\nhad remained on the hither bank galloped to the\\nrescue; the men jumped into the water, adding their\\nstrength to that of the mules, until by much effort\\nthe cart was extricated, and conveyed in safety\\nacross.\\nAs we gained the other bank, a rough group of\\nmen surrounded us. They were not robust, nor\\nlarge of frame, yet they had an aspect of hardy\\nendurance. Finding at home no scope for their\\nenergies, they had betaken themselves to the prairie;", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0130.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 103\\nand in them seemed to be revived, with redoubled\\nforce, that fierce spirit which impelled their ancestors,\\nscarcely more lawless than themselves, from the\\nGerman forests, to inundate Europe, and overwhelm\\nthe Roman empire. A fortnight afterwards this\\nunfortunate party passed Fort Laramie, while we\\nwere there. Not one of their missing oxen had been\\nrecovered, though they had remained encamped a\\nweek in search of them and they had been compelled\\nto abandon a great part of their baggage and provisions,\\nand yoke cows and heifers to their wagons to carry\\nthem forward upon their journey, the most toilsome\\nand hazardous part of which lay still before them.\\nIt is worth noticing that on the Platte one may\\nsometimes see the shattered wrecks of ancient claw-\\nfooted tables, well waxed and rubbed, or massive\\nbureaus of carved oak. These, some of them no\\ndoubt the relics of ancestral prosperity in the colonial\\ntime, must have encountered strange vicissitudes.\\nBrought, perhaps, originally from England; then,\\nwith the declining fortunes of their owners, borne\\nacross the Alleghanies to the wilderness of Ohio or\\nKentucky then to Illinois or Missouri and now at\\nlast fondly stowed away in the family wagon for the\\ninterminable journey to Oregon. But the stern pri-\\nvations of the way are little anticipated. The cher-\\nished relic is soon flung out to scorch and crack upon\\nthe hot prairie.\\nWe resumed our journey but we had gone scarcely\\na mile when R called out from the rear,", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0131.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "104 THE OrxEGON TRAIL.\\nWe ll camp here.\\nWhy do you want to camp Look at the sun.\\nIt is not three o clock yet.\\nYfe ll camp here!\\nThis was the only reply vouchsafed. Deslauriers\\nwas in advance with his cart. Seeing the mule-\\nwagon wheeling from the track, he began to turn his\\nov/n team in the same direction.\\nGo on, Deslauriers; and the little cart advanced\\nagain. As we rode on, we soon heard the wagon of\\nour confederates creaking and jolting behind us, and\\nthe driver, Wright, discharging a furious volley of\\noaths against his mules no doubt venting upon them\\nthe wrath which he dared not direct against a more\\nappropriate object.\\nSomething of this sort had frequently occurred.\\nOur English companion was by no means partial to\\nus, and we thought we discovered in his conduct an\\nintention to thwart and annoy us, especially by retard-\\ning the movements of the party, which he knew that\\nwe were anxious to quicken. Therefore he would\\ninsist on encamping at all unseasonable hours, saying\\nthat fifteen miles was a sufficient day s journey. Find-\\ning our wishes disregarded, we took the direction of\\naffairs into our own hands. Keeping always in ad-\\nvance, to the inexpressible indignation of R we\\nencamped at what time and place we thought proper,\\nnot much caring whether the rest chose to follow or\\nnot. They always did so, however, pitching their tent\\nnear ours, with sullen and wrathful countenances.", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0132.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "TAKI^sTx FRENCH LEAVE. 105\\nTravelling together on these terms did not suit\\nour tastes, and for some time we had meditated a\\nseparation. We resolved to leave camp early in the\\nmorning, and push forward as rapidly as possible\\nfor Fort Laramie, which we hoped to reach, by\\nhard travelling, in four or five days. The captain\\nsoon trotted up between us, and we explained our\\nintentions.\\nA very extraordinary proceeding, upon my word!\\nhe remarked. The most prominent impression in his\\nmind evidently was that we were deserting his party,\\nin what he regarded as a ver}^ dangerous stage of the\\njourney. We ventured to suggest that we were only\\nfour in number, while his party still included sixteen\\nmen; and as we were to go forward and they were to\\nfollow, a full proportion of the perils he apprehended\\nwould fall upon us. But the austerity of the cap-\\ntain s features would not relax. A very extraordi-\\nnary proceeding, gentlemen! and repeating this, he\\nrode off to confer with his principal.\\nBefore sunrise on the next morning our tent was\\ndown we harnessed our best horses to the cart and\\nleft the camp. But first we shook hands with our\\nfriends the emigrants, who sincerely wished us a safe\\njourney, though some others of the party might easily\\nhave been consoled had we encountered an Indian\\nwar-party on the way. The captain and his brother\\nwere standing on the top of a hill, wrapped in their\\nplaids, like spirits of the mist, keeping an anxious\\neye on the baud of horses below. We waved adieu", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0133.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "106 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nto them as we rode off the ground. The captain\\nreplied with a salutation of the utmost dignity,\\nwhich Jack tried to imitate, though not with perfect\\nsuccess.\\nIn five minutes we had gained the foot of the hills,\\nbut here we came to a stop. Hendrick was in the\\nshafts, and being the incarnation of perverse and\\nbrutish obstinacy, he utterly refused to move.\\nDeslauriers lashed and swore till he was tired, but\\nHendrick stood like a rock, grumbling to himself and\\nlooking askance at his enemy, until he saw a favor-\\nable opportunity to take his revenge, when he struck\\nout under the shaft with such cool malignity of\\nintention that Deslauriers only escaped the blow by a\\nsudden skip into the air, such as no one but a French-\\nman could achieve. Shaw and he then joined forces,\\nand lashed on both sides at once. The brute stood\\nstill for a while, till he could bear it no longer, when\\nhe began to kick and plunge till he threatened the\\nutter demolition of the cart and harness. We glanced\\nback at the camp, which was in full sight. Our com-\\npanions, inspired by emulation, were levelling their\\ntents and driving in their cattle and horses.\\nTake the horse out, said I.\\nI took the saddle from Pontiac and put it upon\\nHendrick the former was harnessed to the cart in an\\ninstant, ^-yawcg f/o?ic cried Deslauriers. Pontiac\\nstrode up the hill, twitching the little cart after him\\nas if it were a feather s weight and though, as we\\ngained the top, we saw the wagons of our deserted", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0134.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 107\\ncomrades just getting into motion, we had little fear\\nthat they could overtake us.\\nLeaving the trail, we struck directly across the\\ncountry, and took the shortest cut to reach the main\\nstream of the Platte. A deep ravine suddenly inter-\\ncepted us. We skirted its sides until we found them\\nless abrupt, and then plunged through in the best\\nway we could. Passing behind the sandy ravines\\ncalled Ash Hollow, we stopped for a short noon-\\ning at the side of a pool of rain-water; but soon\\nresumed our journey, and some hours before sunset de-\\nscended the ravines and gorges opening downward upon\\nthe Platte west of Ash Hollow. Our horses waded\\nto the fetlock in sand; the sun scorched like fire, and\\nthe air swarmed with sand-flies and mosquitoes.\\nAt last we gained the Platte. Following it for\\nabout five miles, we saw, just as the sun was sinking,\\na great meadow, dotted with hundreds of cattle, and\\nbeyond them an encampment of emigrants. A party\\nof them came out to meet us, looking upon us at first\\nwith cold and suspicious faces. Seeing four men,\\ndifferent in appearance and equipment from them-\\nselves, emerging from the hills, they had taken us\\nfor the van of the much-dreaded Mormons, whom\\nthey were very apprehensive of encountering. We\\nmade known our true character, and then they\\ngreeted us cordially. They expressed much surprise\\nthat so small a party should venture to traverse that\\nregion, though in fact such attempts are often made\\nby trappers and Indian traders. We rode with them", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0135.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "108 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nto their camp. The wagons, some fifty in number,\\nwith here and there a tent intervening, were arranged\\nas usual in a circle the Lest horses were picketed in\\nthe area within, and the whole circumference was\\nglowing with the dusky light of fires, displaying the\\nforms of the women and children who were crowded\\naround them. This patriarchal scene was curious\\nand striking enough but we made our escape from\\nthe place with all possible despatch, being tormented\\nby the intrusive questioning of the men who thronged\\nabout us. Yankee curiosity was nothing to theirs.\\nThey demanded our names, whence we came, whither\\nwe were going, and what was our business. The last\\nquery was particularly embarrassing; since travel-\\nling in that country, or indeed anywhere, from any\\nother motive than gain, was an idea of which they\\ntook no cognizance. Yet they were fine-looking\\nfellows, with an air of frankness, generosity, and\\neven courtesy, having come from one of the least\\nbarbarous of the frontier counties.\\nWe passed about a mile beyond them, and encamped.\\nBeing too few in number to stand guard without\\nexcessive fatigue, we extinguished our fire, lest it\\nshould attract the notice of wandering Indians and,\\npicketing our horses close around us, slept undis-\\nturbed till morning. For three days we travelled\\nwithout interruption, and on the evening of the third\\nencamped by the well-known spring on Scott s Bluff.\\nHenry Chatillon and I rode out in the morning,\\nand, descending the western side of the Bluff, were", "height": "2961", "width": "1852", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0136.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 109\\ncrossing the plain beyond. Something that seemed\\nto me a file of buffalo came into view, descending\\nthe hills several miles before us. But Henry reined\\nin his horse, and, peering across the prairie with a\\nbetter and more practised eye, soon discovered its\\nreal nature. Indians he said. Old Smoke s\\nlodges, I b lieve. Come; let us go! Wah! get up,\\nnow, Five Hundred Dollar. And laying on the\\nlash with good will, he galloj)ed forward, and I rode\\nby his side. Not long after, a black speck became\\nvisible on the prairie, full two miles off. It grew\\nlarger and larger it assumed the form of a man and\\nhorse; and soon we could discern a naked Indian,\\ncareering at full gallop towards us. When within a\\nfurlong he wheeled his horse in a wide circle, and\\nmade him describe various mystic figures upon the\\nprairie; Henry immediately compelled Five Hun-\\ndred Dollar to execute similar evolutions. It is\\nOld Smoke s village, said he, interpreting these\\nsignals; didn t I say so?\\nAs the Indian approached we stopped to wait for\\nhim, when suddenly he vanished, sinking, as it were,\\ninto the earth. He had come upon one of the deep\\nravines that everj-where intersect these prairies. In\\nan instant the rough head of his horse stretched up-\\nward from the edge, and the rider and steed came\\nscrambling out, and bounded up to us; a sudden\\njerk of the rein brought the wild panting horse to a\\nfull stop. Then followed the needful formality of\\nshaking hands. I forget our visitor s name. He was", "height": "2946", "width": "1783", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0137.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "110 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\na young fellow, of no note in his nation yet in his\\nperson and equipments he was a good specimen of\\na Dahcotah warrior in his ordinary travelling dress.\\nLike most of his people, he was nearly six feet high\\nlithely and gracefully, yet strongly proportioned;\\nand with a skin singularly clear and delicate. He\\nwore no paint his head was bare and his long hair\\nwas gathered in a clump behind, to the top of which\\nwas attached transversely, both by way of ornament\\nand of talisman, the mystic whistle, made of the wing-\\nbone of the war-eagle, and endowed with various\\nmagic virtues. From the back of his head descended\\na line of glittering brass plates, tapering from the size\\nof a doubloon to that of a half-dime, a cumbrous\\nornament, in high vogue among the Dahcotahs, and\\nfor which they pay the traders a most extravagant\\nprice; his chest and arms were naked, the buffalo-\\nrobe, worn over them when at rest, had fallen about\\nhis waist, and was confined there by a belt. This,\\nwith the gay moccasons on his feet, completed his\\nattire. For arms he carried a quiver of dog-skin at\\nhis back, and a rude but powerful bow in his hand.\\nHis horse had no bridle; a cord of hair, lashed\\naround his jaw, served in place of one. The saddle\\nwas made of wood covered with raw hide, and both\\npommel and cantle rose perpendicularly full eighteen\\ninches, so that the warrior was wedged firmly in his\\nseat, whence nothing could dislodge him but the\\nbursting of the girths.\\nAdvancing with our new companion, we found", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0138.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. Ill\\nmore of liis people, seated in a circle on the top of a\\nliill; while a rude procession came straggling down\\nthe neighboring hollow, men, women, and children,\\nwith horses dragging the lodge-poles behind them.\\nAll that morning, as we moved forward, tall savages\\nwere stalking silently about us. At noon we reached\\nHorse Creek. The main body of the Indians had\\narrived before us. On the farther bank stood a large\\nand strong man, nearly naked, holding a white horse\\nby a long cord, and eying us as we approached.\\nThis was the chief, whom Henry called Old Smoke.\\nJust behind him, his youngest and favorite squaw sat\\nastride a fine mule, covered with caparisons of whit-\\nened sldns, garnished with blue and white beads,\\nand fringed with little ornaments of metal that\\ntinkled with every movement of the animal. The\\ngirl had a light clear complexion, enlivened by a spot\\nof vermilion on each cheek; she smiled, not to say\\ngrinned, upon us, showing two gleaming rows of\\nwhite teeth. In her hand she carried the tall lance\\nof her unchivalrous lord, fluttering with feathers;\\nhis round white shield hung at the side of her mule;\\nand his pipe was slung at her back. Her dress was\\na tunic of deer-skin, made beautifully white by means\\nof a species of cla}^ found on the prairie, ornamented\\nwith beads, arranged in figures more gay than taste-\\nful, and with long fringes at all the seams. Not far\\nfrom the chief stood a group of stately figures, their\\nwhite buffalo-robes thrown over their shoulders, gaz-\\ning coldly upon us and in the rear, for several acres,", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0139.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "112 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe ground was covered with a temporary encamp-\\nment. Warriors, women, and children swarmed like\\nbees; hundreds of dogs, of all sizes and colors, ran\\nrestlessly ahout and, close at hand, the wide shallow\\nstream was alive with boys, girls, and young squaws,\\nsplashing, screaming, and laughing in the water. At\\nthe same time a long train of emigrants with their\\nheavy wagons was crossing the creek, and dragging\\non in slow procession by the encampment of the\\npeople whom they and their descendants, in the space\\nof a century, are to sweep from the face of the\\nearth.\\nThe encampment itself was merely a temporary\\none during the heat of the day. None of the lodges\\nwere pitched but their heavy leather coverings, and\\nthe long poles used to support them, were scattered\\neverywhere, among weapons, domestic utensils, and\\nthe rude harness of mules and horses. The squaws\\nof each lazy warrior had made him a shelter from\\nthe sun, by stretching a few buffalo-robes, or the\\ncorner of a lodge-covering, upon poles and here he\\nsat in the shade, with a favorite young squaw, per-\\nhaps, at his side, glittering with all imaginable\\ntrinkets. Before him stood the insignia of his rank\\nas a warrior, his white shield of bull-hide, his medi-\\ncine-bag, his bow and quiver, his lance and his pipe,\\nraised aloft on a tripod of poles. Except the dogs,\\nthe most active and noisy tenants of the camp were\\nthe old women, ugly as Macbeth s witches, with hair\\nstreaming loose in the wind, and nothing but the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0140.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 113\\ntattered fragment of an old buffalo-robe to hide their\\nshrivelled limbs. The day of their favoritism passed\\ntwo generations ago now the heaviest labors of the\\ncamp devolved upon them; they must harness the\\nhorses, pitch the lodges, dress the buffalo-robes, and\\nbring in meat for the hunters. With the cracked\\nvoices of these hags, the clamor of dogs, the shouting\\nand laughing of children and girls, and the listless\\ntranquillity of the warriors, the whole scene had an\\neffect too lively and picturesque to be forgotten.\\nWe stopped not far from the Indian camp, and\\nhaving invited some of the chiefs and warriors to\\ndinner, placed before them a repast of biscuit and\\ncoffee. Squatted in a half -circle on the ground, they\\nsoon disposed of it. As we rode forward on the\\nafternoon journey, several of our late guests accom-\\npanied us. Among the rest was a bloated savage, of\\nmore than three hundred pounds weight, christened\\nLe Cochon^ in consideration of his preposterous dimen-\\nsions, and certain corresponding traits of his charac-\\nter. The Hog bestrode a little white pony, scarcely\\nable to bear up under the enormous burden, though,\\nby way of keeping up the necessary stimulus, the\\nrider kept both feet in constant motion, playing alter-\\nnately against his ribs. The old man was not a\\nchief; he never had ambition enough to become one;\\nhe was not a warrior nor a hunter, for he was too fat\\nand lazy but he was the richest man in the village.\\nRiches among the Dahcotahs consist in horses, and\\nof these The Hog had accumulated more than", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0141.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "114 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthirty. He had ah-eady ten times as many as he\\nwanted, yet still his ajDpetite for horses was insatiable.\\nTrotting up to me, he shook me by the hand, and\\ngave me to understand that he was my devoted\\nfriend then he began a series of signs and gesticula-\\ntion, his oily countenance radiant with smiles, and\\nhis little eyes peeping out with a cunning twinkle\\nfrom between the masses of flesh that almost obscured\\nthem. Knowing nothing at that time of the sign-\\nlanguage of the Indians, I could only guess at his\\nmeaning. So I called on Henry to explain it.\\nThe Hog, it seems, was anxious to conclude a\\nmatrimonial bargain, and barter one of his daughters\\nfor my horse. These overtures I chose to reject; at\\nwhich The Hog, still laughing with undiminished\\ngood humor, gathered his robe about his shoulders,\\nand rode away.\\nWhere we encamped that night, an arm of the\\nPlatte ran between high bluffs; it was turbid and\\nswift as heretofore, but trees were growing on its\\ncrumbling banks, and there was a nook of grass\\nbetween the water and the hill. Just before entering\\nthis place, we saw the emigrants encamping two or\\nthree miles distant on the right; while the whole\\nIndian rabble were pouring down the neighboring\\nhill in hope of the same sort of entertainment which\\nthey had experienced from us. In the savage land-\\nscape before our camp, nothing but the rushing of\\nthe Platte broke the silence. Through the ragged\\nboughs of the trees, dilapidated and half dead, we", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0142.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 115\\nsaw the sun settiiig- in crimson behind the peaks of\\nthe Black Hills the restless bosom of the river was\\nsuffused with red our white tent was tinged with it,\\nand the sterile bluffs, up to the rocks that crowned\\nthem, partook of the same fiery hue. It soon passed\\naway; no light remained but that from our lire,\\nblazing high among the dusky trees and bushes, while\\nwe lay around it wrapped in our blankets, smoking\\nand conversing through half the night.\\nWe crossed a sun-scorched plain on the next morn-\\ning; the line of old cotton-wood trees that fringed\\nthe bank of the Platte forming its extreme verge.\\nNestled close beneath them, we could discern in the\\ndistance something like a building. As we came\\nnearer, it assumed form and dimensions, and proved\\nto be a rough structure of logs. It was a little trad-\\ning fort, belonging to two private traders; and\\noriginally intended, like all the forts of the country,\\nto form a hollow square, with rooms for lodging and\\nstorage opening upon the area within. Only two\\nsides of it had been completed the place was now as\\nill-fitted for the purposes of defence as any of those\\nlittle log-houses which upon our constantly-shifting\\nfrontier have been so often successfully held against\\noverwhelming odds of Indians. Two lodges were\\npitched close to the fort; the sun beat scorching\\nupon the logs; no living thing was stirring except\\none old squaw, who thrust her round head from the\\nopening of the nearest lodge, and three or four stout\\nyoung puppies, who were peeping with looks of eager", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0143.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "116 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ninquiry from under the covering. In a moment a\\ndoor opened, and a little, swarthy, black-e3 ed French-\\nman came out. His dress was rather singular; his\\nblack curling hair was parted in the middle of his\\nhead, and fell below his shoulders; he wore a tight\\nfrock of smoked deer-skin, gayly ornamented with\\nfigures worked in dyed porcupine-quills. His mocca-\\nsons and leggins were also gaudily adorned in the\\nsame manner; and the latter had in addition a line\\nof long fringes, reaching down the seams. The small\\nframe of Richard, for by this name Plenry made him\\nknown to us, was in the highest degree athletic and\\nvigorous. There was no superfluity, and indeed\\nthere seldom is among the white men of this country,\\nbut every limb was compact and hard every sinew\\nhad its full tone and elasticity, and the whole man\\nwore an air of mingled hardihood and buoyancy.\\nRichard committed our horses to a Navaho slave,\\na mean-looking fellow, taken prisoner on the Mexican\\nfrontier; and, relieving us of our rifles with ready\\npoliteness, led the way into the principal apartment\\nof his establishment. Tliis was a room ten feet\\nsquare. The walls and floor were of black mud, and\\nthe roof of rough timber; there was a huge fireplace\\nmade of four flat rocks, picked up on the prairie.\\nAn Indian bow and otter-skin quiver, several gaudy\\narticles of Rocky Mountain finery, an Indian medi-\\ncine-bag, and a pipe and tobacco-pouch, garnished\\nthe walls, and rifles rested in a corner. There was\\nno furniture except a sort of rough settle, covered", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0144.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 117\\nwith buffalo-robes, upon which lolled a tall half-\\nbreed with his hair glued in masses upon each temple,\\nand saturated with vermilion. Two or three more\\nmountain men sat cross-legged on the floor. Their\\nattire was not unlike that of Richard himself; but\\nthe most striking figure of the group was a naked\\nIndian boy of sixteen, with a handsome face, and\\nlight, active proportions, who sat in an easy posture\\nin the corner near the door. Not one of his limljs\\nmoved the breadth of a hair; his eye was fixed\\nimmovably, not on any person present, but, as it\\nappeared, on the jDi ojecting corner of the fireplace\\nopposite to him.\\nOn the prairie the custom of smoking with friends\\nis seldom omitted, whether among Indians or whites.\\nThe pipe, therefore, was taken from the wall, and its\\nred bowl crammed with the tobacco and sJiongsasha,\\nmixed in suitable proportions. Then it passed round\\nthe circle, each man inhaling a few whiffs and hand-\\ning it to his neighbor. Having spent half an hour\\nhere, we took our leave; first inviting our new\\nfriends to drink a cup of coffee with us at our camp\\na mile farther up the river.\\nBy this time we had grown rather shabby; our\\nclothes had burst into rags and tatters; and, what\\nwas worse, we had little means of renovation. Fort\\nLaramie was but seven miles before us. Beinsr\\naverse to appearing in such a plight among any\\nsociety that could boast an approximation to the\\ncivilized, we stopped by the river to make our toilet", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0145.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "118 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nin the best way we could. We hung up small look-\\ning-glasses against the trees and shaved, an opera-\\ntion neglected for six weeks; we performed our\\nablutions in the Platte, though the utility of such a\\nproceeding was questionable, the water looking exactly\\nlike a cup of chocolate, and the banks consisting of\\nthe softest and richest yellow mud, so that we were\\nobliged, as a preliminaiy, to build a causeway of\\nbranches and twigs. Having also put on radiant\\nmoccasons, procured from a squaw of Richard s estab-\\nlishment, and made what other improvements our\\nnarrow circumstances allowed, we took our seats on\\nthe grass with a feeling of greatly increased respecta-\\nbility, to await the arrival of our guests. They\\ncame; the banquet was concluded, and the pipe\\nsmoked. Biddhig them adieu, we turned our horses\\nheads towards the fort.\\nAn hour elapsed. The barren hills closed across\\nour front, and we could see no farther; until, having\\nsurmounted them, a rapid stream appeared at the\\nfoot of the descent, running into the Platte beyond\\nwas a green meadow, dotted with bushes, and in the\\nmidst of these, at the point where the two rivers\\njoined, were the low clay walls of a fort. This was\\nnot Fort Laramie, but another post, of less recent\\ndate, which having sunk before its successful com-\\npetitor, was now deserted and ruinous. A moment\\nafter, the hills seeming to draw apart as we advanced,\\ndisclosed Fort Laramie itself, its high bastions and\\nperpendicular walls of clay crowning an eminence on", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0146.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "TAKING FRENCH LEAVE. 119\\nthe left beyond the stream, while behind stretched a\\nline of arid and desolate ridges, and behind these\\nagain, towering seven thousand feet aloft, rose the\\ngrim Black Hills.\\nWe tried to ford Laramie Creek at a point nearly\\nopposite the fort, but the stream, swollen with rains,\\nwas too rapid. We passed up along its Ijank to find\\na better crossing-place. Men gathered on the wall to\\nlook at us. There s Bordeaux called Henry, his\\nface brightening as he recognized his acquaintance;\\nhim there with the spy-glass and there s old\\nVaskiss, and Tucker, and jMay; and, by George!\\nthere s Simoneau. This Simoneau was Henry s\\nfast friend, and the only man in the country who\\ncould rival him in hunting.\\nWe soon found a ford. Henry led the way, the\\npony approaching the bank with a countenance of\\ncool indifference, bracing his feet and sliding into the\\nstream with the most unmoved composure. We fol-\\nlowed the water boiled against our saddles, but our\\nhorses bore us easily through. The unfortunate little\\nmules were near going down with the current, cart\\nand all; and we watched them with some solicitude\\nscrambling over the loose round stones at the bottom,\\nand bracing stoutly against the stream. All landed\\nsafely at last; we crossed a little plain, descended a\\nhollow, and, riding up a steep bank, found ourselves\\nbefore the gateway of Fort Laramie, under the\\nimpending blockhouse erected above it to defend\\nthe entrance.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0147.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER IX.\\nSCENES AT FORT LARAMIE.\\nLooking back, after tlie expiration of a year, upon\\nFort Laramie and its inmates, they seem less like a\\nreality than like some fanciful picture of the olden\\ntime so different was the scene from any which this\\ntamer side of the world can present. Tall Indians,\\nenveloped in their white buffalo-robes, were striding\\nacross the area or reclining at full length on the low\\nroofs of the buildings which enclosed it. Numerous\\nsquaws, gayly bedizened, sat grouped in front of the\\nrooms they occupied; their mongrel offspring, rest-\\nless and vociferous, rambled in every direction\\nthrough the fort; and the trappers, traders, and\\nengages of the establishment were busy at their labor\\nor their amusements.\\nWe were met at the gate, but by no means cordially\\nwelcomed. Indeed, we seemed objects of some dis-\\ntrust and suspicion, until Henry Chatillon explained\\nthat we were not traders, and we, in confirmation,\\nhanded to the bourgeois a letter of introduction from\\nhis principals. He took it, turned it upside down,\\nand tried hard to read it but his literary attainments\\nnot being adequate to the task, he applied for relief", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0148.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "SCEXES AT FORT LARAMIE. 121\\nto tlie clerk, a sleek, smiling Frenchman, named\\nMonthalon. The letter read, Bordeaux (the hcmrgcoiti)\\nseemed gradually to awaken to a sense of what v/as\\nexpected of him. Though not deficient in hospitable\\nintentions, he was wholly unaccustomed to act as\\nmaster of ceremonies. Discarding all formalities of\\nreception, he did not honor us with a single word,\\nbut walked swiftly across the area, while we followed\\nin some admiration to a railing and a flight of steps\\nopposite the entrance. He signed to us that we had\\nbetter fasten our horses to the railing; then he\\nwalked up the steps, tramped along a rude balcony,\\nand, kicking open a door, displayed a large room,\\nrather more elaborately furnished than a barn. For\\nfurniture it had a rough bedstead, but no bed; two\\nchairs, a chest of drawers, a tin pail to hold water,\\nand a board to cut tobacco upon. A brass crucifix\\nhung on the wall, and close at hand a recent scalp,\\nwith hair full a yard long, was suspended from a nail.\\nI shall again have occasion to mention this dismal\\ntrophy, its history being connected with that of our\\nsubsequent proceedings.\\nThis apartment, the best in Fort Laramie, was that\\nusually occupied by the legitimate hourgeois^ Papin,\\nin whose absence the command devolved upon Bor-\\ndeaux. The latter, a stout, bluff little fellow, much\\ninflated by a sense of his new authority, began to\\nroar for buffalo -robes. These being brought and\\nspread upon the floor, formed our beds much better\\nones than we had of late been accustomed to. Our", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0149.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "122 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\narrangements made, we stepped out to the balcony to\\ntake a more leisurely survey of the long-looked-for\\nhaven at which we had arrived at last. Beneath us\\nwas the square area surrounded by little rooms, or\\nrather cells, which opened upon it. These were\\ndevoted to various purposes, but served cliiefly for\\nthe accommodation of the men employed at the fort,\\nor of the equally numerous squaws whom they were\\nallowed to maintain in it. Opposite to us rose the\\nblockhouse above the gateway it was adorned with\\nthe figure of a horse at full speed, daubed upon the\\nboards with red paint, and exhibiting a degree of\\nskill which might rival that displayed by the Indians\\nin executing similar designs upon their robes and\\nlodges. A busy scene was enacting in the area.\\nThe wagons of Vaskiss, an old trader, were about to\\nset out for a remote post in the mountains, and the\\nCanadians were going through their preparations\\nwith all possible bustle, while here and there an\\nIndian stood looking on with imperturbable gravity.\\nFort Laramie is one of the posts established by the\\nAmerican Fur Company, which wellnigh monopo-\\nlizes the Indian trade of this region. Here its officials\\nrule with an absolute sway; the arm of the United\\nStates has little force; for when we were there, the\\nextreme outposts of her troops were about seven\\nhundred miles to the eastward. The little fort is\\nbuilt of bricks dried in the sun, and externally is of\\nan oblong form, with bastions of clay, in the form of\\nordinary blockhouses, at two of the corners. The", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0150.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 128\\nwalls are about fifteen feet high, and surmounted by\\na slender palisade. Tlie roofs of the apartments\\nwithin, which are built close against the walls, serve\\nthe purpose of a banquette. Within, the fort is\\ndivided by a partition: on one side is the square\\narea, surrounded by the store-rooms, offices, and\\napartments of the inmates; on the other is the corral^\\na narrow place, encompassed by the high clay walls,\\nwhere at night, or in presence of dangerous Indians,\\nthe horses and mules of the fort are crowded for safe\\nkeeping. The main entrance has two gates, with an\\narched passage intervening. A little square window,\\nhigh above the ground, opens laterally from an\\nadjoining chamber into this passage; so that when\\nthe inner gate is closed and barred, a person without\\nmay still hold communication with those within,\\nthrough this narrow aperture. This obviates the\\nnecessity of admitting suspicious Indians, for pur-\\nposes of trading, into the body of the fort; for when\\ndanger is apprehended, the inner gate is shut fast,\\nand all traffic is carried on by means of the window.\\nThis precaution, though necessary at some of the\\ncompany s posts, is seldom resorted to at Fort Laramie\\nwhere, though men are frequently killed in the neigh-\\nborhood, no apprehensions are felt of any general\\ndesigns of hostility from the Indians.\\nWe did not long enjoy our new quarters undis-\\nturbed. The door was silently pushed open, and\\ntwo eyeballs and a visage as l)lack as night looked\\nin upon us; then a red arm and shoulder intruded", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0151.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "124 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthemselves, and a tall Indian, gliding in, shook us\\nby the hand, grunted his salutation, and sat down on\\nthe floor. Others followed, with faces of the natural\\nhue, and letting fall their heavy robes from their\\nshoulders, took their seats, quite at ease, in a semi-\\ncircle before us. The pipe was now to be lighted\\nand passed from one to another; and this was the\\nonly entertainment that at present they expected\\nfrom us. These visitors were fathers, brothers, or\\nother relatives of the squaws in the fort, where they\\nwere permitted to remain, loitering about in perfect\\nidleness. All those who smoked Avith us were men of\\nstanding and repute. Two or three others dropped\\nin also young fellows who neither by their years nor\\ntheir exploits were entitled to rank with the old men\\nand warriors, and who, abashed in the presence of\\ntheir superiors, stood aloof, never withdrawing their\\neyes from us. Their cheeks were adorned with ver-\\nmilion, their ears with pendants of shell, and their\\nnecks with beads. Never yet having signalized\\nthemselves as hunters, or performed the honorable\\nexploit of killing a man, they were held in slight\\nesteem, and were diffident and bashful in proportion.\\nCertain formidable inconveniences attended this influx\\nof visitors. They were bent on inspecting everything\\nin the room; our equipments and our dress alike\\nunderwent their scrutiny; for though the contrary\\nhas been asserted, few beings have more curiosity\\nthan Indians in regard to subjects A\\\\ithin their ordi-\\nnary range of thought. As to other matters, indeed,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0152.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 125\\nthey seem utterly indifferent. They will not trouble\\nthemselves to inquire into what they cannot compre-\\nhend, but are quite contented to place their hands\\nover their mouths in token of wonder, and exclaim\\nthat it is great medicine. With this comprehen-\\nsive solution, an Indian never is at a loss. He never\\nlaunches into speculation and conjecture; his reason\\nmoves in its beaten track. His soul is dormant; and\\nno exertions of the missionaries, Jesuit or Puritan,\\nof the old world or of the new, have as yet availed\\nto arouse it.\\nAs we were looking, at sunset, from the wall,\\nupon the desolate plains that surround the fort, we\\nobserved a cluster of strange objects, like scaffolds,\\nrising in the distance against the red western sky.\\nThey bore aloft some singular-looking burdens and\\nat their foot glimmered something white, like bones.\\nThis was the place of sepulture of some Dahcotah\\nchiefs, whose remains their people are fond of placing\\nin the vicinity of the fort, in the hope that they may\\nthus be protected from violation at the hands of their\\nenemies. Yet it has happened more than once, and\\nquite recently, that war-parties of the Crow Indians,\\nranging through the country, have thrown the bodies\\nfrom the scaffolds, and broken them to pieces, amid\\nthe yells of the Dahcotah, who remained pent up in the\\nfort, too few to defend the honored relics from insult.\\nThe white objects upon the ground were buffalo\\nskulls, arranged in the mystic circle commonly seen\\nat Indian places of sepulture upon the prairie.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0153.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "126 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nWe soon discovered, in the twilight, a band of fifty\\nor sixty horses approaching the fort. These were\\nthe animals belonging to the establishment; who,\\nhaving been sent out to feed, under the care of armed\\nguards, in the meadows below, were now being driven\\ninto the corral for the night. A gate opened into\\nthis enclosure: by the side of it stood one of the\\nguards, an old Canadian, with gray bushy eyebrows,\\nand a dragoon-pistol stuck into his belt; while his\\ncomrade, mounted on horseback, his rifle laid across\\nthe saddle in front, and his long hair blowing before\\nhis swarthy face, rode at the rear of the disorderly\\ntroop, urging them up the ascent. In a moment the\\nnarrow corral was thronged with the half-wild horses,\\nkicking, biting, and crowding restlessly together.\\nThe discordant jingling of a bell, rung by a Cana-\\ndian in the area, summoned us to supper. The repast\\nwas served on a rough table in one of the lower\\napartments of the fort, and consisted of cakes of bread\\nand dried buffalo-meat, an excellent thing for\\nstrengthening the teeth. At this meal were seated\\nthe bourgeois and superior dignitaries of the establish-\\nment, among whom Henry Chatillon was worthily\\nincluded. No sooner was it finished, than the table\\nwas spread a second time (the luxury of bread being\\nnow, however, omitted), for the benefit of certain\\nhunters and trappers of an inferior standing; while\\nthe ordinary Canadian enrjages were regaled on dried\\nmeat in one of their lodging-rooms. By way of\\nillustrating the domestic economy of Fort Laramie,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0154.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 127\\nit may not be amiss to introduce in this place a story\\ncurrent among the men when we were there.\\nThere was an old man named Pierre, whose duty\\nit was to bring the meat from the store-room for the\\nmen. Old Pierre, in the kindness of his heart, used\\nto select the fattest and the best pieces for his com-\\npanions. This did not long escape the keen-eyed\\nbourgeois, who was greatly disturbed at such improvi-\\ndence, and cast about for some means to stop it. At\\nlast he hit on a plan that exactly suited him. At\\nthe side of the meat-room, and separated from it by\\na clay partition, was another apartment, used for the\\nstorage of furs. It had no communication with the\\nfort, except through a square hole in the partition;\\nand of course it was perfectly dark. One evening\\nthe bourgeois, watching for a moment when no one\\nobserved him, dodged into the meat-room, clambered\\nthrough the hole, and ensconced himself among the\\nfurs and buffalo-robes. Soon after, old Pierre came\\nin with his lantern, and, muttering to himself, began\\nto pull over the bales of meat, and select the best\\npieces, as usual. But suddenly a hollow and sepul-\\nchral voice proceeded from the inner room Pierre,\\nPierre Let that fat meat alone. Take nothing but\\nlean. Pierre dropped his lantern, and bolted out\\ninto the fort, screaming, in an agony of terror, that\\nthe devil was in the store-room; but tripping on the\\nthreshold, he pitched over upon the gravel, and lay\\nsenseless, stunned by the fall. The Canadians ran\\nout to the rescue. Some lifted the unlucky Pierre;", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0155.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "128 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand others, making an extempore crucifix of two\\nsticks, were proceeding to attack the devil in his\\nstronghold, when the bourgeois^ with a crestfallen\\ncountenance, appeared at the door. To add to his\\nmortification, he was obliged to explain the whole\\nstratagem to Pierre, in order to bring him to his\\nsenses.\\nWe were sitting, on the following morning, in the\\npassage-way between the gates, conversing with the\\ntraders Vaskiss and J\\\\lay. These two men, together\\nwith our sleek friend, the clerk Monthalon, were, I\\nbelieve, the only persons then in the fort who could\\nread and write. May was telling a curious story\\nabout the traveller Catlin, when an ugly, diminutive\\nIndian, wretchedly mounted, came up at a gallop,\\nand rode by us into the fort. On being questioned,\\nhe said that Smoke s village was close at hand.\\nAccordingly only a few minutes elapsed before the\\nhills beyond the river were covered with a disorderly\\nswarm of savages, on horseback and on foot. May\\nfinished his stor} and by that time the whole array\\nhad descended to Laramie Creek, and begun to cross\\nit in a mass. I walked down to the bank. The\\nstream is wide, and was then between three and four\\nfeet deep, with a very swift current. For several\\nrods the water was alive with dogs, horses, and\\nIndians. The long poles used in pitching the lodges\\nare carried by the horses, fastened by the heavier\\nend, two or three on each side, to a rude sort of\\npack-saddle, while the other end drags on the ground.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0156.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 129\\nAbout a foot behind the horse, a kind of large basket\\nor pannier is suspended between the poles, and firmly\\nlashed in its place. On the back of the horse are\\npiled various articles of luggage the basket also is\\nwell filled with domestic utensils, or, quite as often,\\nwith a litter of puppies, a brood of small children, or\\na superannuated old man. Numbers of these curious\\nvehicles, traineaux, or, as the Canadians called them,\\ntravctux, were now splashing together through the\\nstream. Among them swam countless dogs, often\\nburdened with miniature traineaux and dashing for-\\nward on horseback through the throng came the\\nwarriors, the slender figure of some lynx-eyed boy\\nclinging fast behind them. The women sat perched\\non the pack-saddles, adding not a little to the load of\\nthe already overburdened horses. The confusion was\\nprodigious. The dogs yelled and howled in chorus\\nthe puppies in the tr aineaux set up a dismal whine,\\nas the water invaded their comfortable retreat; the\\nlittle black-eyed children, from one year of age up-\\nward, clung fast with both hands to the edge of their\\nbasket, and looked over in alarm at the water rush-\\ning so near them, sputtering and making wry mouths\\nas it sj)lashed against their faces. Some of the dogs,\\nencumbered by their load, were carried down by the\\ncurrent, yelping piteously; and the old squaws would\\nrush into the water, seize their favorites by the neck,\\nand drag them out. As each horse gained the bank,\\nhe scrambled up as he could. Stray horses and colts\\ncame among the rest, often breaking away at full", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0157.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "130 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nspeed through the crowd, followed by the old hags,\\nscreaming after their fashion on all occasions of\\nexcitement. Buxom young squaws, blooming in all\\nthe charms of vermilion, stood here and there on the\\nbank, holding aloft their master s lance, as a signal\\nto collect the scattered portions of his household. In\\na few moments the crowd melted away each family,\\nwith its horses and equipage, filing off to the plain at\\nthe rear of the fort; and here, in the space of half an\\nhour, arose sixty or seventy of their tapering lodges.\\nTheir horses were feeding by hundreds over the sur-\\nrounding prairie, and their dogs were roaming every-\\nwhere. The fort was full of warriors, and the\\nchildren were whooping and yelling incessantly under\\nthe walls.\\nThese new-comers were scarcely arrived, when\\nBordeaux ran across the fort, shouting to his squaw\\nto bring him his spy -glass. The obedient Marie, the\\nvery model of a squaw, produced the instrument, and\\nBordeaux hurried with it to the wall. Pointing it\\neastward, he exclaimed, with an oath, that the\\nfamilies were coming. But a few moments elapsed\\nbefore the heavy caravan of the emigrant wagons\\ncould be seen, steadily advancing from the hills.\\nThey gained the river, and, without turning or paus-\\ning, plunged in, passed through, and slowly ascend-\\ning the opposing bank, kept directly on their way\\nby the fort and the Indian village, until, gaining a\\nspot a quarter of a mile distant, they wheeled into a\\ncircle. For some time our tranquillity was undis-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0158.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 131\\nturbed. The emigrants were preparing their encamp-\\nment; but no sooner was this accomplished, than\\nFort Laramie was taken by storm. A crowd of\\nbroad-brimmed hats, thin visages, and staring eyes,\\nappeared suddenly at the gate. Tall, awkward men,\\nin brown homespun; women, with cadaverous faces\\nand long lank figures, came thronging in together,\\nand, as if inspired by the very demon of curiosity,\\nransacked every nook and corner of the fort. Dis-\\nmayed at this invasion, we withdrew in all speed to\\nour chamber, vainly hoping that it might prove a\\nsanctuary. The emigrants prosecuted their investi-\\ngations with untiring vigor. They penetrated the\\nrooms, or rather dens, inhabited by the astonished\\nsquaws. Resolved to search every mystery to the\\nbottom, they explored the apartments of the men,\\nand even that of Marie and the hotirgeois. At last a\\nnumerous deputation appeared at our door, but found\\nno encouragement to remain.\\nHaving at length satisfied their curiosity, they\\nnext proceeded to business. The men occupied\\nthemselves in procuring supplies for their onward\\njourney either buying them, or giving in exchange\\nsuperfluous articles of their own.\\nThe emigrants felt a violent prejudice against the\\nFrench Indians, as they called the trappers and trad-\\ners. They thought, and with some reason, that these\\nmen bore them no goodwill. Many of them were\\nfirmly persuaded that the French were instigating\\nthe Indians to attack and cut them off. On visiting", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0159.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "132 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe encampment Ave were at once struck with the\\nextraordinary perplexity and indecision that prevailed\\namong them. They seemed like men totally out of\\ntheir element; bewildered and amazed, like a troop\\nof schoolboys lost in the woods. It was impossible\\nto be long among them without being conscious of\\nthe bold spirit with which most of them were ani-\\nmated. But the forest is the home of the backwoods-\\nman. On the remote prairie he is totally at a loss.\\nHe differs as much from the genuine mountain-\\nman as a Canadian voyagcur^ paddling his canoe on\\nthe rapids of the Ottawa, differs from an American\\nsailor among the storms of Cape Horn. Still my\\ncompanion and I were somewhat at a loss to account\\nfor this perturbed state of mind. It could not be\\ncowardice: these men were of the same stock with\\nthe volunteers of Monterey and Buena Vista. Yet,\\nfor the most part, they were the rudest and most\\nignorant of the frontier population they knew abso-\\nlutely nothing of the country and its inhabitants;\\nthey had already experienced much misfortune, and\\napprehended more; they had seen nothing of man-\\nkind, and had never put their own resources to the\\ntest.\\nA full share of suspicion fell upon us. Being\\nstrangers, we were looked upon as enemies. Having\\noccasion for a supply of lead and a few other neces-\\nsary articles, we used to go over to the emigrant\\ncamps to obtain them. After some hesitation, some\\ndubious glances, and fumbling of the hands in the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0160.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 133\\npockets, the terms would be agreed upon, the price\\ntendered, and the emigrant would go off to bring the\\narticle in question. After waiting until our patience\\ngave out, we would go in search of him, and find\\nhim seated on the tongue of his wagon.\\nWell, stranger, he would observe, as he saw\\nus approach, I reckon I won t trade.\\nSome friend of his had followed him from the\\nscene of the bargain, and whispered in his ear that\\nclearly we meant to cheat him, and he had better\\nhave nothing to do with us.\\nThis timorous mood of the emigrants was doubly\\nunfortunate, as it exposed them to real danger.\\nAssume, in the presence of Indians, a bold bearing,\\nself-confident yet vigilant, and you will find them\\ntolerably safe neighbors. But your safety depends\\non the respect and fear you are able to inspire. If\\nyou betray timidity or indecision, you convert them\\nfrom that moment into insidious and dangerous\\nenemies. The Dahcotah saw clearly enough the\\nperturbation of the emigrants, and instantly availed\\nthemselves of it. They became extremely insolent\\nand exacting in their demands. It has become an\\nestablished custom with them to go to the camp of\\nevery party, as it arrives in succession at the fort,\\nand demand a feast. Smoke s village had come with\\nthis express design, having made several days jour-\\nney with no other object than that of enjoying a cup\\nof coffee and two or three biscuit. So the feast\\nwas demanded, and the emigrants dared not refuse it.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2..|r", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0161.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "134 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nOne evening, about sunset, the village was deserted.\\nWe met old men, warriors, squaws, and children in\\ngay attire, trooping off to the encampment, with\\nfaces of anticipation and, arriving here, they seated\\nthemselves in a semicircle. Smoke occupied the\\ncentre, with his warriors on either hand; the young\\nmen and boys came next, and the squaws and chil-\\ndren formed the horns of the crescent. The biscuit\\nand coffee were promptly despatched, the emigrants\\nstaring open-mouthed at their savage guests. With\\neach emigrant party that arrived at Fort Laramie\\nthis scene was renewed and every day the Indians\\ngrew more rapacious and presumptuous. One even-\\ning they broke in pieces, out of mere wantonness,\\nthe cups from which they had been feasted and this\\nso exasperated the emigrants that many of them\\nseized their rifles and could scarcely be restrained\\nfrom firing on the insolent mob of Indians. Before\\nwe left the country this dangerous spirit on the part\\nof the Dahcotah had mounted to a yet higher pitch.\\nThey began openly to threaten the emigrants with\\ndestruction, and actually fired upon one or two\\nparties of them. A military force and military law\\nare urgently called for in that perilous region; and\\nunless troops are speedily stationed at Fort Laramie,\\nor elsewhere in the neighborhood, both emigrants\\nand other travellers will be exposed to most imminent\\nrisks.\\nThe Ogillallah, the Brul^, and the other western\\nbands of the Dahcotah or Sioux, are thorough sav-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0162.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 135\\nages, unchanged by any contact with civilization.\\nNot one of them can speak a European tongue, or has\\never visited an American settlement. Until within\\na year or two, when the emigrants began to pass\\nthrough their country on the way to Oregon, they\\nhad seen no whites, except the few employed about\\nthe Fur Company s posts. They thought them a\\nwise people, inferior only to themselves, living in\\nleather lodges, like their own, and subsisting on\\nbuffalo. But when the swarm of 3Ieneaska, with\\ntheir oxen and wagons, began to invade them, their\\nastonishment was unbounded. They could scarcely\\nbelieve that the earth contained such a multitude of\\nwhite men. Their wonder is now giving way to\\nindignation and the result, unless vigilantly guarded\\nagainst, may be lamentable in the extreme.\\nBut to glance at the interior of a lodge. Shaw\\nand I used often to visit them. Indeed, we spent\\nmost of our evenings in the Indian village, Shaw s\\nassumption of the medical character giving us a fair\\npretext. As a sample of the rest I will describe one\\nof these visits. The sun had just set, and the horses\\nwere driven into the corral. The Prairie Cock, a\\nnoted beau, came in at the gate with a bevy of young\\ngirls, with whom he began a dance in the area, lead-\\ning them round and round in a circle, while he jerked\\nup from his chest a succession of monotonous sounds,\\nto which they kept time in a rueful chant. Outside\\nthe gate boys and young men were idly frolicking\\nand close by, looking grimly upon them, stood a", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0163.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "136 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwarrior in his robe, with his face painted jet-black,\\nin token that lie had lately taken a Pawnee scalp.\\nPassing, these, the tall dark lodges rose between us\\nand the red western sky. We repaired at once to\\nthe lodge of Old Smoke himself. It was by no\\nmeans better than the others; indeed, it was rather\\nshabby: for in this democratic community the chief\\nnever assumes superior state. Smoke sat cross-\\nlegged on a buffalo-robe, and his grunt of salutation\\nas we entered was unusually cordial, out of respect\\nno doubt to Shaw s medical character. Seated\\naround the lodge were several squaws, and an abun-\\ndance of children. The complaint of Shaw s patients\\nwas, for the most part, a severe inflammation of the\\neyes, occasioned by exposure to the sun, a species of\\ndisorder which he treated with some success. He\\nhad brought with him a homoeopathic medicine-chest,\\nand was, I presume, the first who introduced that\\nharmless system of treatment among the Ogillallah.\\nNo sooner had a robe been spread at the head of the\\nlodge for our accommodation, and we had seated\\nourselves upon it, than a patient made her appear-\\nance: the chief s daughter herself, who, to do her\\njustice, was the best-looking girl in the village.\\nBeing on excellent terms with the physician, she\\nplaced herself readily under his hands, and submitted\\nwith a good grace to his applications, laughing in\\nhis face during the whole process, for a squaw hardly\\nknows how to smile. This case despatched, another\\nof a different kind succeeded. A hideous, emaciated", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0164.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE. 137\\nold woman sat in the darkest corner of the lodge,\\nrocking to and fro with pain, and hiding her eyes\\nfrom the light hj pressing the palms of both hands\\nagainst her face. At Smoke s command she came\\nforward, very unwillingly, and exhibited a pair of\\neyes that had nearly disappeared from excess of\\ninflammation. No sooner had the doctor fastened\\nhis grip upon her, than she set up a dismal moaning,\\nand writhed so in his grasp that he lost all patience\\nbut being resolved to carry his point, he succeeded\\nat last in applying his favorite remedies.\\nIt is strange, he said, when the operation was\\nfinished, that I forgot to bring any Spanish flies\\nwith me we must have something here to answer for\\na counter-irritant.\\nSo, in the absence of better, he seized upon a red-\\nhot brand from the fire, and clapped it against the\\ntemple of the old squaw, who set up an unearthly\\nhowl, at which the rest of the family broke into a\\nlaugh.\\nDuring these medical operations Smoke s eldest\\nsquaw entered the lodge, with a mallet in her hand,\\nthe stone head of which, precisely like those some-\\ntimes ploughed up in the fields of New England, was\\nmade fast to the handle by a covering of raw hide.\\nI had observed some time before a litter of well-\\ngrown black puppies, comfortably nestled among\\nsome buffalo-robes at one side; but this new-comer\\nspeedily disturbed their enjoyment; for seizing one\\nof them by the hind paw, she dragged him out, and", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0165.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "138 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ncarrying him to the entrance of the lodge, hammered\\nhim on the head till she killed him. Conscious to\\nwhat this preparation tended, I looked through a\\nhole in the back of the lodge to see the next steps of\\nthe process. The squaw, holding the puppy by the\\nlegs, was swinging him to and fro through the blaze\\nof a fire, until the hair was singed off. This done,\\nshe unsheathed her knife and cut him into small\\npieces, which she dropped into a kettle to boil. In\\na few moments a large wooden dish was set before\\nus, filled with this delicate preparation. A dog-feast\\nis the greatest compliment a Dahcotah can offer to\\nhis guest; and, knowing that to refuse eating would\\nbe an affront, we attacked the little dog, and devoured\\nhim before the eyes of his unconscious parent. Smoke\\nin the mean time was preparing his great pipe. It\\nwas lighted when we had finished our repast, and we\\npassed it from one to another till the bowl was empty.\\nThis done, we took our leave without farther cere-\\nmony, knocked at the gate of the fort, and, after\\nmaking ourselves known, were admitted.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0166.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER X.\\nTHE WAR-PARTIES.\\nThe summer of 1846 was a season of warlike excite-\\nment among all the western bands of the Dahcotah.\\nIn 1845 they encountered great reverses. Many\\nwar-parties had been sent out; some of them had\\nbeen cut off, and others had returned broken and\\ndisheartened so that the whole nation was in mourn-\\ning. Among the rest, ten warriors had gone to the\\nSnake country, led by the son of a prominent Ogil-\\nlallah chief, called The Whirlwind. In passing over\\nLaramie Plains they encountered a superior number\\nof their enemies, were surrounded, and killed to a\\nman. Having performed this exploit, the Snakes\\nbecame alarmed, dreading the resentment of the\\nDahcotah; and they hastened therefore to signify\\ntheir wish for peace by sending the scalp of the slain\\npartisan, with a small parcel of tobacco attached, to\\nhis tribesmen and relations. They had employed old\\nVaskiss, the trader, as their messenger, and the scalp\\nwas the same that hung in our room at the fort. But\\nThe Whirlwind proved inexorable. Though his\\ncharacter hardly corresponds with his name, he is\\nnevertheless an Indian, and hates the Snakes with", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0167.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "140 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhis whole soul. Long before the scalp arrived, he\\nhad made his preparations for revenge. He sent\\nmessengers with presents and tobacco to all the\\nDahcotah within three hundred miles, proposing a\\ngrand combination to chastise the Snakes, and nam-\\ning a place and time of rendezvous. The plan was\\nreadily adopted, and at this moment many villages,\\nprobably embracing in the whole five or six thousand\\nsouls, were slowly creeping over the prairies and\\ntending towards the common centre at La Bontd s\\ncamp, on the Platte. Here their warlike rites were\\nto be celebrated with more than ordinary solemnity,\\nand a thousand warriors, as it was said, were to set\\nout for the enemy s coantry. The characteristic\\nresult of this preparation will appear in the sequel.\\nI was greatly rejoiced to hear of it. I had come\\ninto the country chiefly with a view of observing the\\nIndian character. To accomplish my purpose it was\\nnecessary to live in the midst of them, and become,\\nas it were, one of them. I jjroposed to join a village,\\nand make myself an inmate of one of their lodges\\nand henceforward this narrative, so far as I am con-\\ncerned, will be chiefly a record of the progress of\\nthis design, and the unexpected impediments that\\nopposed it.\\nWe resolved on no account to miss the rendezvous\\nat La Bontd s camp. Our plan was to leave\\nDeslauriers at the fort, in charge of our equipage and\\nthe better part of our horses, while we took with us\\nnotliing but our weapons and the worst animals we", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0168.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 141\\nhad. In all probability, jealousies and quarrels\\nwould arise among so many hordes of fierce impul-\\nsive savages, congregated together under no common\\nhead, and many of them strangers from remote\\nprairies and mountains. We were bound in common\\nprudence to be cautious how we excited any feeling\\nof cupidity. This was our plan but unhappily we\\nwere not destined to visit La Bontc s camp in this\\nmanner, for one morning a young Indian came to the\\nfort and brought us evil tidings. The new-comer\\nwas an aiTant dandy. His ugly face was painted\\nwith vermilion; on his head fluttered the tail of a\\nprairie-cock (a large species of pheasant, not found,\\nas I have heard, eastward of the Rocky Mountains)\\nin his ears were hung pendants of shell, and a flam-\\ning red blanket was wrapped around him. He carried\\na dragoon-sword in his hand, solely for display, since\\nthe knife, the arrow, and the rifle are the arbiters of\\nevery prairie fight; but as no one in this country\\ngoes abroad unarmed, the dandy carried a bow and\\narrows in an otter-skin quiver at his back. In this\\nguise, and bestriding his yellow horse with an air of\\nextreme dignity, The Horse, for that was his\\nname, rode in at the gate, turning neither to the\\nright nor the left, but casting glances askance at the\\ngroups of squaws who, with their mongrel progeny,\\nwere sitting in the sun before their doors. The evil\\ntidings brought by The Horse were of the follow-\\ning import: The squaw of Henry Chatillon, a woman\\nwith whom he had been connected for years by the", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0169.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "142 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nstrongest ties wliich in that country exist between\\nthe sexes, was dangerously ill. She and her chil-\\ndren were in the village of The Whirlwind, at the\\ndistance of a few days journey. Henry was anxious\\nto see the woman before she died, and provide for\\nthe safety and support of his children, of whom he\\nwas extremely fond. To have refused him this\\nwould have been inhumanity. We abandoned our\\nplan of joining Smoke s village and proceeding with\\nit to the rendezvous, and determined to meet The\\nWhirlwind, and go in his company.\\nI had been slightly ill for several weeks, but on\\nthe third night after reaching Fort Laramie a violent\\npain awoke me, and I found myself attacked by the\\nsame disorder that occasioned such heavy losses to\\nthe army on the Rio Grande. In a day and a half I\\nwas reduced to extreme weakness, so that I could\\nnot walk without pain and effort. Having no medi-\\ncal adviser, nor any choice of diet, I resolved to\\nthrow myself upon Providence for recovery, using,\\nwithout regard to the disorder, any portion of\\nstrength that might remain to me. So on the\\ntwentieth of June we set out from Fort Laramie to\\nmeet The Whirlwind s village. Though aided by\\nthe high-bowed mountain-saddle, I could scarcely\\nkeep my seat on horseback. Before we left the fort\\nwe hired another man, a long-haired Canadian, named\\nRaymond, with a face like an owl s, contrasting\\noddly enough with Deslauriers s mercurial counte-\\nnance. This was not the only reinforcement to our", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0170.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 143\\nparty. A vagrant Indian trader, named Reynal,\\njoined us, together with his squaw, Margot, and her\\ntwo nephews, our dandy friend, The Horse, and\\nhis younger brother, The Hail-Storm. Thus\\naccompanied, we betook ourselves to the prairie,\\nleaving the beaten trail, and passing over the deso-\\nlate hills that flank the valley of Laramie Creek. In\\nall, Indians and whites, we counted eight men and\\none woman.\\nReynal, the trader, the image of sleek and selfish\\ncomplacency, carried The Horse s dragoon-sword\\nin his hand, delighting apparently in this useless\\nparade for, from spending half his life among Indians,\\nhe had caught not only their habits but their ideas.\\nMargot, a female animal of more than two hundred\\npounds weight, was couched in the basket of a\\ntraineau, such as I have before described; besides\\nher ponderous bulk, various domestic utensils were\\nattached to the vehicle, and she led by a trail-rope a\\npack-horse, which carried the covering of Reynal s\\nlodge. Deslauriers walked briskly by the side of\\nthe cart, and Raymond came behind, swearing at the\\nspare horses which it was his business to drive. The\\nrestless young Indians, their quivers at their backs\\nand their bows in their hands, galloped over the\\nhills, often starting a wolf or an antelope from the\\nthick growth of wild-sage bushes. Shaw and I were\\nin keeping with the rest of the rude cavalcade,\\nhaving in the failure of other clothing adopted the\\nbuckskin attire of the trappers. Henry ChatiUon", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0171.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "144 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nrode in advance of the whole. Thus we passed hill\\nafter hill and hollow after hollow, a country arid,\\nbroken, and so parched by the sun that none of the\\nplants familiar to our more favored soil would\\nflourish upon it, though there were multitudes of\\nBtrange medicinal herbs, more especially the absinth,\\nwhich covered every declivity, while cacti were\\nhanging like reptiles at the edges of every ravine.\\nAt length we ascended a high hill, our horses tread-\\ning upon pebbles of flint, agate, and rough jasper,\\nuntil, gaining the top, we looked down on the wild\\nbottoms of Laramie Creek, which far below us wound\\nlike a writhing snake from side to side of the narrow\\ninterval, amid a growth of shattered cotton-wood and\\nash-trees. Lines of tall cliffs, white as chalk, shut\\nin this green strip of woods and meadow-land, into\\nwhich we descended and encamped for the night. In\\nthe morning we passed a wide grassy plain by the\\nriver; there was a grove in front, and beneath its\\nshadows the ruins of an old trading fort of logs.\\nThe grove bloomed with myriads of wild roses, with\\ntheir sweet perfume fraught with recollections of\\nhome. As we emerged from the trees, a rattlesnake,\\nas large as a man s arm, and more than four feet\\nlong, lay coiled on a rock, fiercely rattling and hiss-\\ning at us a gray hare, twice as large as those of New\\nEngland, leaped up from the tall ferns curlew flew\\nscreaming over our heads, and a host of little prairie-\\ndogs sat yelping at us at the mouths of their burrows\\non the dry plain beyond. Suddenly an antelope", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0172.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 145\\nleaped up from the wild-sage bushes, gazed eagerly\\nat us, and then, erectmg his white tail, stretched\\naway like a greyhound. The two Indian boys found\\na white wolf, as large as a calf, in a hollow, and,\\ngiving a sharp yell, they galloped after him but the\\nwolf leaped into the stream and swam across. Then\\ncame the crack of a rifle, the bullet whistling harm-\\nlessly over his head, as he scrambled up the steep\\ndeclivity, rattling down stones and earth into the\\nwater below. Advancing a little, we beheld, on the\\nfarther bank of the stream, a spectacle not common\\neven in that region; for, emerging from among the\\ntrees, a herd of some two hundred elk came out upon\\nthe meadow, their antlers clattering as they walked\\nforward in a dense throng. Seeing us, they broke\\ninto a run, rushing across the opening and disappear-\\ning among the trees and scattered groves. On our\\nleft was a barren prairie, stretching to the horizon;\\non our right, a deep gulf, with Laramie Creek at the\\nbottom. We found ourselves at length at the edge\\nof a steep descent a narrow valley, with long rank\\ngrass and scattered trees stretching before us for a\\nmile or more along the course of the stream. Reach-\\ning the farther end, we stopped and encamped. A\\nhuge old cotton-wood tree spread its branches hori-\\nzontally over our tent. Laramie Creek, circling\\nbefore our camp, half enclosed us it swept along the\\nbottom of a line of tall white cliffs that looked down\\non us from the farther bank. There were dense\\ncopses on our right; the cliffs, too, were half hidden\\n10", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0173.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "146 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nby bushes, though behind us a few cotton- wood trees,\\ndotting the green prairie, alone impeded tlie view,\\nand friend or enemy could be discerned in that direc-\\ntion at a mile s distance. Here we resolved to remain\\nand await the arrival of The Whirlwind, who would\\ncertainly pass this way in his progress towards La\\nBont^ s camp. To go in search of him was not\\nexpedient, both on account of the broken and imprac-\\nticable nature of the country, and the uncertainty of\\nhis position and movements besides, our horses were\\nalmost worn out, and I was in no condition to travel.\\nWe had good grass, good water, tolerable fish from\\nthe stream, and plenty of small game, such as ante-\\nlope and deer, though no buffalo. There was one\\nlittle drawback to our satisfaction: a certain exten-\\nsive tract of bushes and dried grass, just behind us,\\nwhich it was by no means advisable to enter, since it\\nsheltered a numerous brood of rattlesnakes. Henry\\nChatillon again despatched The Horse to the vil-\\nlage, with a message to his squaw that she and her\\nrelatives should leave the rest and push on as rapidly\\nas possible to our camp.\\nOur daily routine soon became as regular as that\\nof a well-ordered household. The weather-beaten old\\ntree was in the centre; our rifles generally rested\\nagainst its vast trunk, and our saddles were Hung on\\nthe ground around it; its distorted roots were so\\ntwisted as to form one or two convenient armchairs,\\nwhere we could sit in the shade and read or smoke\\nbut meal-times became, on the whole, the most inter-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0174.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 147\\nesting hours of the day, and a bountiful provision\\nwas made for them. An antelope or a deer usually\\nswung from a bough, and haunches were suspended\\nagainst the trunk. That camp is daguerreotype d on\\nmy memory the old tree, the white tent, with Shaw\\nsleeping in the shadow of it, and Reynal s miserable\\nlodge close by the bank of the stream. It was a\\nwretched oven-shaped structure, made of begrimed\\nand tattered buffalo-hides stretched over a frame of\\npoles; one side was open, and at the side of the open-\\ning hung the powder-horn and bullet-pouch of the\\nowner, together with his long red pipe, and a rich\\nquiver of otter-skin, with a bow and arrows; for\\nReynal, an Indian in most things but color, chose to\\nhunt buffalo with these primitive weapons. In the\\ndarkness of this cavern -like habitation might be dis-\\ncerned Madame Margot, her overgrown bulk stowed\\naway among her domestic implements, furs, robes,\\nblankets, and painted cases of raw hide, in which\\ndried meat is kept. Here she sat from sunrise to\\nsunset, an impersonation of gluttony and laziness,\\nwhile her affectionate proprietor was smoking, or\\nbegging petty gifts from us, or telling lies concern-\\ning his own achievements, or perchance engaged in\\nthe more profitable occupation of cooking some prepa-\\nration of prairie delicacies. Reynal was an adej)t at\\nthis work; he and Deslauriers have joined forces,\\nand are hard at work together over the fire, while\\nRaymond spreads, by way of table-cloth, a buffalo-\\nhide carefully whitened with pipe-clay, on the grass", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0175.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "148 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbefore the tent. Here he arranges the teacups and\\nplates; and then, creeping on all fours, like a dog,\\nthrusts his head in at the opening of the tent. For\\na moment we see his round owlish eyes rolling wildly,\\nas if the idea he came to communicate had suddenly\\nescaped him then collecting his scattered thoughts,\\nas if by an effort, he informs us that supper is ready,\\nand instantly withdraws.\\nWhen sunset came, and at that hour the wild and\\ndesolate scene would assume a new aspect, the horses\\nwere driven in. They had been grazing all day in\\nthe neighboring meadow, but now they were picketed\\nclose about the camp. As the prairie darkened we\\nsat and conversed around the fire, until, becoming\\ndrowsy, we spread our saddles on the ground, wrapped\\nour blankets around us, and lay down. We never\\nplaced a guard, having by this time become too indo-\\nlent; but Henry Chatillon folded his loaded rifle in\\nthe same blanket with himself, observing that he\\nalways took it to bed with him when he camped in\\nthat place. Henry was too bold a man to use such a\\nprecaution without good cause. We had a hint now\\nand then that our situation was none of the safest;\\nseveral Crow war-parties were known to be in the\\nvicinity, and one of them, that passed here some\\ntime before, had peeled the bark from a neighboring\\ntree, and engraved upon the white wood certain\\nhieroglyphics, to signify that they had invaded the\\nterritories of their enemies, the Dahcotah, and set\\nthem at defiance. One morning a thick mist covered", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0176.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 149\\nthe whole country. Shaw and Henry went out to\\nride, and soon came back with a startling piece of\\nintelligence they had found within rifle-shot of our\\ncamp the recent trail of about thirty horsemen. They\\ncould not be whites, and they could not be Dahcotah,\\nsince Ave knew no such parties to be in the neigh-\\nborhood; therefore they must be Crows. Thanks to\\nthat friendly mist, we had escaped a hard battle;\\nthey would inevitably have attacked us and our\\nIndian companions had they seen our camp. What-\\never doubts we might have entertained, were removed\\na day or two after, by two or three Dahcotah, who\\ncame to us with an account of having hidden in a\\nravine on that very morning, from whence they saw\\nand counted the Crows they said that they followed\\nthem, carefully keeping out of sight, as they passed\\nup Chugwater; that here the Crows discovered five\\ndead bodies of Dahcotah, placed, according to cus-\\ntom, in trees, amd flinging them to the ground, held\\ntheir guns against them and blew them to atoms.\\nIf our camp were not altogether safe, still it was\\ncomfortable enough; at least it was so to Shaw, for I\\nwas tormented with illness and vexed by the delay in\\nthe accomplishment of my designs. When a respite\\nin my disorder gave me some returning strength, I\\nrode out well armed upon the prairie, or bathed with\\nShaw in the stream, or waged a petty warfare with\\nthe inhabitants of a neighboring prairie-dog village.\\nAround our fire at night we employed ourselves in\\ninveighing against the fickleness and inconstancy of", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0177.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "150 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nIndians, and execrating Tlie Whirlwind and all his\\ncrew. At last the thing grew insufferable.\\nTo-morrow morning, said I, I will start for\\nthe fort, and see if I can hear any news there. Late\\nthat evening, when the fire had sunk low, and all\\nthe camp were asleep, a loud cry sounded from the\\ndarkness. Henry leaj)ed up, recognized the voice,\\nreplied to it, and our dandy friend, The Horse,\\nrode in among us, just returned from his mission to\\nthe village. He coolly picketed his mare, without\\nsaying a word, sat down by the fire and began to eat,\\nbut his imperturbable philosophy was too much for\\nour patience. Where was the village about fifty\\nmiles south of us it was moving slowly, and would\\nnot arrive in less than a week. And where was\\nHenry s squaw? coming as fast as she could with\\nMahto-Tatonka, and the rest of her brothers, but she\\nwould never reach us, for she was dying, and asking\\nevery moment for Henry. Henry s manly face be-\\ncame clouded and downcast; he said that if we were\\nwilling he would go in the morning to find her, at\\nwhich Shaw offered to accompany him.\\nWe saddled our horses at sunrise. Reynal pro-\\ntested vehemently against being left alone, with\\nnobody but the two Canadians and the young Indians,\\nwhen enemies were in the neighborhood. Disregard-\\ning his complaints, we left him, and, coming to the\\nmouth of Chugwater, separated, Shaw and Henry\\nturning to the right, up the bank of the stream, while\\nI made for the fort.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0178.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "THE AVAR-PARTIES. 151\\nTaking leave for a while of my friend and the\\nunfortunate squaw, I will relate by way of episode\\nwhat I saw and did at Fort Laramie. It was not\\nmore than eighteen miles distant, and I reached it in\\nthree hours. A shrivelled little figure, wrapped\\nfrom head to foot in a dingy white Canadian caj^ote,\\nstood in the gateway, holding by a cord of bull-hide\\na shaggy wild-horse, which he had lately caught.\\nHis sharp prominent features, and his keen snake-\\nlike eyes, looked out from beneath the shadowy hood\\nof the capote, which was drawn over his head like\\nthe cowl of a Capuchin friar. His face was like an\\nold piece of leather, and his mouth spread from ear\\nto ear. Extending his long wiry hand, he welcomed\\nme with something more cordial than the ordinary\\ncold salute of an Indian, for we were excellent friends.\\nWe had made an exchange of horses to our mutual\\nadvantage and Paul, thinking himself well treated,\\nhad declared everywhere that the white man had a\\ngood heart. He was a Dahcotah from the Missouri,\\na reputed son of the half-breed interpreter, Pierre\\nDorion, so often mentioned in Irving s Astoria.\\nHe said that he was going to Richard s trading-\\nhouse to sell his horse to some emigrants, who were\\nencamped there, and asked me to go with him. We\\nforded the stream together, Paul dragging his wild\\ncharge behind him. As we passed over the sandy\\nplains beyond, he grew communicative. Paul was a\\ncosmopolitan in his way; he had been to the settle-\\nments of the whites, and visited in peace and war", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0179.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "152 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmost of the tribes within the range of a thousand\\nmiles. He spoke a jargon of French and another of\\nEnglish, yet nevertheless he was a thorough Indian;\\nand as he told of the bloody deeds of his own people\\nagainst their enemies, his little eyes would glitter\\nwith a fierce lustre. He told how the Dahcotah\\nexterminated a village of the Hohays on the Upper\\nMissouri, slaughtering men, women, and children;\\nand how, in overwhelming force, they cut off sixteen\\nof the brave Delawares, who fought like wolves to the\\nlast, amid the throng of their enemies. He told me\\nalso another story, which I did not believe until I\\nhad heard it confirmed from so many independent\\nsources that my scepticism was almost overcome.\\nSix years ago, a fellow named Jim Beckworth, a\\nmongrel of French, American, and negro blood, was\\ntrading for the Fur Company, in a large village of\\nthe Crows. Jim Beckworth was last summer at St.\\nLouis. He is a ruffian of the worst stamp; bloody\\nand treacherous, without honor or honesty such at\\nleast is the character he bears upon the prairie. Yet\\nin his case the standard rules of character fail, for\\nthough he will stab a man in his sleep, he will also\\nperform most desperate acts of daring; such, for\\ninstance, as the following While he was in the Crow\\nvillage, a Blackfoot war-party, between thirty and\\nforty in number, came stealing through the coun-\\ntry, killing stragglers and carrying off horses. The\\nCrow warriors got upon their trail and pressed them\\nso closely that they could not escape, at which the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0180.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 153\\nBlackfeet, throwing up a semi-circular breastwork of\\nlogs at the foot of a precipice, coolly awaited their\\napproach. The logs and sticks, piled four or five\\nfeet high, protected them in front. The Crows might\\nhave swept over the breastwork and exterminated\\ntheir enemies; but though outnumbering them ten-\\nfold, they did not dream of storming the little forti-\\nfication. Such a proceeding would be altogether\\nrepugnant to their notions of warfare. Whooping\\nand yelling, and jumping from side to side like\\ndevils incarnate, they showered bullets and arrows\\nupon the logs not a Blackfoot was hurt, but several\\nCrows, in spite of their leaping and dodging, were\\nshot down. In this childish manner, the fight went\\non for an hour or two. Now and then a Crow war-\\nrior in an ecstasy of valor and vainglory would\\nscream forth his war-song, boast himself the bravest\\nand greatest of mankind, grasp his hatchet, rush up,\\nstrike it upon the breastwork, and then, as he\\nretreated to his companions, fall dead under a shower\\nof arrows yet no combined attack was made. The\\nBlackfeet remained secure in their intrenchment.\\nAt last Jim Beckworth lost patience.\\nYou are all fools and old women, he said to\\nthe Crows come with me, if any of you are brave\\nenough, and I will show you how to fight.\\nHe threw off his trapper s frock of buckskin and\\nstripped himself naked, like the Indians themselves.\\nHe left his rifle on the ground, took in his hand a\\nsmall light hatchet, and ran over the prairie to the", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0181.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "154 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nright, concealed by a hollow from the eyes of the\\nBlackfeet. Then climbing up the rocks, he gained\\nthe top of the precipice behind them. Forty or fifty\\nyoung Crow warriors followed him. By the cries\\nand whoops that rose from below he knew that the\\nBlackfeet were just beneath him; and running for-\\nward, he leaped down the rock into the midst of\\nthem. As he fell he caught one by the long loose\\nhair, and dragging him down, tomahawked him then\\ngrasping another by the belt at his waist, he struck\\nhim also a stunning blow, and, gaining his feet,\\nshouted the Crow war-cry. He swung his hatchet so\\nfiercely around him that the astonished Blackfeet\\nbore back and gave him room. He might, had he\\nchosen, have leaped over the breastwork and escaped\\nbut this was not necessary, for with devilish yells the\\nCrow warriors came dropping in quick succession\\nover the rock among their enemies. The main body\\nof the Crows, too, answered the cry from the\\nfront, and rushed up simultaneously. The convulsive\\nstruggle within the breastwork was frightful for an\\ninstant the Blackfeet fought and yelled like pent-up\\ntigers but the butchery was soon complete, and the\\nmangled bodies lay piled together under the preci-\\npice. Not a Blackfoot made his escape.\\nAs Paul finished his story we came in sight of\\nRichard s Fort, a disorderly crowd of men around\\nit, and an emigrant camp a little in front.\\nNow, Paul, said I, where are your Minnicongew\\nlodges?", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0182.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 155\\nNot come yet, said Paul; maybe come to-\\nmorrow.\\nTwo large villages of a band of Dahcotali bad come\\nthree hundred miles from the Missouri, to join in the\\nwar, and they were expected to reach Richard s that\\nmorning. There was as yet no sign of their approach\\nso pushing through a noisy, drunken crowd, I entered\\nan apartment of logs and mud, the largest in the fort:\\nit was full of men of various races and complexions,\\nall more or less drunk. A company of California\\nemigrants, it seemed, had made the discovery at this\\nlate day that they had encumbered themselves with\\ntoo many supplies for their journey. A part, there-\\nfore, they had thrown away, or sold at great loss to\\nthe traders but had determined to get rid of their\\nvery copious stock of Missouri whiskey, by drinking\\nit on the spot. Here were maudlin squaws stretched\\non piles of buffalo-robes; squalid Mexicans, armed\\nwith bows and arrows Indians sedately drunk long-\\nhaired Canadians and trappers, and American back-\\nwoodsmen in brown homespun, the well-beloved\\npistol and bowie-knife displayed openly at their sides.\\nIn the middle of the room a tall, lank man, with a\\ndingy broadcloth coat, was haranguing the company\\nin the style of the stump orator. With one hand\\nhe sawed the air, and with the other clutched firmly\\na brown jug of whiskey, which he applied every\\nmoment to his lips, forgetting that he had drained\\nthe contents long ago. Richard formally introduced\\nme to this personage, who was no less a man than", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0183.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "156 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nColonel R once the leader of the party. Instantly\\nthe colonel, seizing me, in the absence of buttons, by\\nthe leather fringes of mj^ frock, began to define his\\nposition. His men, he said, had mutinied and deposed\\nhim; but still he exercised over them the influence\\nof a superior mind; in all but the name he was yet\\ntheir chief. As the colonel spoke, I looked round\\non the wild assemblage, and could not help thinking\\nthat he was but ill fitted to conduct such men across\\nthe deserts to California. Conspicuous among the\\nrest stood three tall young men, grandsons of Daniel\\nBoone. They had clearly inherited the adventurous\\ncharacter of that prince of pioneers; but I saw no\\nsigns of the quiet and tranquil spirit that so remark-\\nably distinguished him.\\nFearful was the fate that, months after, overtook\\nsome of the members of that party. General Kearney,\\non his late return from California, brought back their\\nstory. They were interrupted by the deep snows\\namong the mountains, and, maddened by cold and\\nhunger, fed upon each other s flesh!\\nI got tired of the confusion. Come, Paul, said\\nI, we will be off. Paul sat in tlic sun, under the\\nwall of the fort. He jumped up, mounted, and we\\nrode towards Fort Laramie. When we reached it, a\\nman came out of the gate with a pack at his back\\nand a rifle on his shoulder; others were gathering\\nabout him, shaking him by the hand, as if taking\\nleave. I thought it a strange thing that a man\\nshould set out alone and on foot for the prairie. I", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0184.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 157\\nsoon got an explanation. Perrault this, if I recol-\\nlect right, was the Canadian s name had quarrelled\\nwith the bourgeois, and the fort was too hot to hold\\nhitn. Bordeaux, inflated with his transient author-\\nity, had abused him, and received a blow in return.\\nThe men then sprang at each other, and grappled in\\nthe middle of the fort. Bordeaux was down in an\\ninstant, at the mercy of the incensed Canadian had\\nnot an old Indian, the brother of his squaw, seized\\nhold of his antagonist, it would have fared ill with\\nhim. Perrault broke loose from the old Indian, and\\nboth the white men ran to their rooms for their guns\\nbut when Bordeaux, looking from his door, saw the\\nCanadian, gun in hand, standing in the area and\\ncalling on him to come out and fight, his heart failed\\nhim; he chose to remain where he was. In vain the\\nold Indian, scandalized by his brother-in-law s cow-\\nardice, called uj)on him to go to the prairie and fight\\nit out in the white man s manner; and Bordeaux s\\nown squaw, equally incensed, screamed to her lord\\nand master that he was a dog and an old woman. It\\nall availed nothing. Bordeaux s prudence got the\\nbetter of his valor, and he would not stir. Perrault\\nstood showering opprobrious epithets at the recreant\\nbourgeois, till, growing tired of this, he made up a\\npack of dried meat, and, slinging it at his back, set\\nout alone for Fort Pierre, on the Missouri, a distance\\nof three hundred miles, over a desert country, full of\\nhostile Indians.\\nI remained in the fort that night. In the mom-", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0185.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "158 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ning, as I was coming out from breakfast, talking\\nwith a trader named McCluskey, I saw a strange\\nIndian leaning against the side of the gate. He was\\na tall, strong man, with heavy features.\\nWho is he? I asked.\\nThat s The Whirlwind, said McCluskey. He\\nis the fellow that made all this stir about the war.\\nIt s always the way with the Sioux they never stop\\ncutting each other s throats; it s all they are fit for;\\ninstead of sitting in their lodges^ and getting robes\\nto trade with us in the Avinter. If this war goes on,\\nwe Tl make a poor trade of it next season, I reckon.\\nAnd this was the opinion of all the traders, who\\nwere vehemently opposed to the war, from the injury\\nthat it must occasion to their interests. The Whirl-\\nwind left his village the day before to make a visit to\\nthe fort. His warlike ardor had abated not a little\\nsince he first conceived the design of avenging his\\nson s death. The long and complicated preparations\\nfor the expedition were too much for his fickle dispo-\\nsition. That morning Bordeaux fastened upon him,\\nmade him presents, and told him that if he went to\\nwar he would destroy his horses and kill no buffalo\\nto trade with the white men; in short, that he was a\\nfool to think of such a thing, and had better make up\\nhis mind to sit quietly in his lodge and smoke his\\npipe, like a wise man. The Whirlwind s purpose\\nwas evidently shaken; he had become tired, like a\\nchild, of his favorite plan. Bordeaux exultingly\\npredicted that he would not go to war. My philan-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0186.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 159\\nthropy was no match for my curiosity, and I was\\nvexed at the possibility that after all I might lose\\nthe rare opportunity of seeing the ceremonies of war.\\nThe Whirlwind, however, had merely thrown the\\nfirebrand; the conflagration was become general. All\\nthe western bands of the Dahcotah were bent on war;\\nand, as I heard from McCluskey, six large villages\\nwere already gathered on a little stream, forty miles\\ndistant, and were daily calling to the Great Spirit to\\naid them in their enterprise. McCluskey had just\\nleft them, and represented them as on their way to\\nLa Bont^ s camp, which they would reach in a week,\\nunless they should learn that there were no hiiffalo there.\\nI did not like this condition, for buffalo this season\\nwere rare in the neighborhood. There were also the\\ntwo Minnicongew villages that I mentioned before;\\nbut about noon, an Indian came from Richard s Fort\\nwith the news that they were quarrelling, breaking\\nup, and dispersing. So much for the whiskey of the\\nemigrants Finding themselves unable to drink the\\nwhole, they had sold the residue to these Indians,\\nand it needed no prophet to foretell the result; a\\nspark dropped into a powder-magazine would not\\nhave produced a quicker effect. Instantly the old\\njealousies and rivalries and smothered feuds that\\nexist in an Indian village broke out into furious\\nquarrels. They forgot the warlike enterprise that\\nhad already brought them three hundred miles. They\\nseemed like ungoverned children inflamed with the\\nfiercest passions of men. Several of them were stabbed", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0187.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "160 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nin the drunken tumult; and in the morning they\\nscattered and moved back towards the Missouri in\\nsmall parties. I feared that, after all, the long-\\nprojected meeting and the ceremonies that were to\\nattend it might never take place, and I should lose\\nso admirable an opportunity of seeing the Indian\\nunder his most fearful and characteristic aspect;\\nhowever, in foregoing this, I should avoid a very\\nfair probability of being plundered and stripped, and\\nit might be, stabbed or shot into the bargain. Con-\\nsoling myself with this reflection, I prepared to carry\\nthe news, such as it was, to the camp.\\nI caught my horse, and to my vexation found that\\nhe had lost a shoe and broken his hoof against the\\nrocks. Horses are shod at Fort Laramie at the\\nmoderate rate of three dollars a foot; so I tied\\nHendrick to a beam in the corral^ and summoned\\nRoubidou, the blacksmith. Roubidou, with the hoof\\nbetween his knees, was at work with hammer and\\nfile, and I was inspecting the process, when a strange\\nvoice addressed me.\\nTwo more gone under! Well, there s more of us\\nleft yet. Here s Gingras and me off to the moun-\\ntains to-morrow. Our turn will come next, I sup-\\npose. It s a hard life, anyhow!\\nI looked up and saw a man, not much more than\\nfive feet high, but of very square and strong propor-\\ntions. In appearance he was particularly dingy; for\\nhis old buckskin frock was black and polished with\\ntime and grease, and his belt, knife, pouch, and", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0188.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 161\\npowder-horn appeared to have seen the roughest\\nservice. The first joint of each foot was entirely\\ngone, having been frozen off several winters before,\\nand his moccasons were curtailed in proportion. His\\nwhole appearance and equipment bespoke the free\\ntrapper. He had a round, ruddy face, animated\\nwith a spirit of carelessness and gayety not at all in\\naccordance with the words he had just spoken.\\nTwo more gone, said I; what do you mean\\nby that?\\nOh, the Arapahoes have just killed two of us in\\nthe mountains. Old Bull-Tail has come to tell us.\\nThey stabbed one behind his back, and shot the other\\nwith his own rifle. That s the way we live here I\\nmean to give up trapping after this year. My squaw\\nsays she wants a pacing horse and some red ribbons:\\nI 11 make enough beaver to get them for her, and\\nthen I m done I 11 go below and live on a\\nfarm.\\nYour bones will dry on the prairie, Rouleau\\nsaid another trapper, who was standing by a strong,\\nbrutal-looking fellow, with a face as surly as a bull-\\ndog s.\\nRouleau only laughed, and began to hum a tune\\nand shuffle a dance on his stumps of feet.\\nYou 11 see us, before long, passing up your way,\\nsaid the other man.\\nWell, said I, stop and take a cup of coffee\\nwith us; and, as it was late in the afternoon, I pre-\\npared to leave the fort at once.\\n11", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0189.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "162 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nAs I rode out, a train of emigrant wagons was\\npassing across the stream. Whar are ye goin\\nstranger? Thus I was saluted by two or three\\nvoices at once.\\nAbout eighteen miles up the creek.\\nIt s mighty late to be going that far! Make\\nhaste, ye d better, and keep a bright look-out for\\nIndians\\nI thought the advice too good to be neglected.\\nFording the stream, I passed at a round trot over\\nthe plains beyond. But the more haste, the worse\\nspeed. I proved the truth of the proverb by the\\ntime I reached the hills three miles from the fort.\\nThe trail was faintly marked, and, riding forward\\nwith more rapidity than caution, I lost sight of it. I\\nkept on in a direct line, guided by Laramie Creek,\\nwhich I could see at intervals darkly glistening in the\\nevening sun, at the bottom of the woody gulf on my\\nright. Half an hour before sunset I came upon its\\nbanks. There was something exciting in the wild\\nsolitude of the place. An antelope sprang suddenly\\nfrom the sage -bushes before me. As he leaped grace-\\nfully not thirty yards before my horse, I fired, and\\ninstantly he spun round and fell. Quite sure of\\nhim, I walked my horse towards him, leisurely reload-\\ning my rifle, when, to my surprise, he sprang up\\nand trotted rapidly away on three legs into the dark\\nrecesses of the hills, whither I had no time to follow.\\nTen minutes after, I was passing along the bottom\\nof a deep valley, and, chancing to look behind me, I", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0190.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 163\\nsaw in the dim light that something was following.\\nSupposing it to be a wolf, I slid from my seat and\\nsat down behind my horse to shoot it; but as it came\\nup, I saw by its motions that it was another antelope.\\nIt approached within a hundred yards, arched its\\nneck, and gazed intently. I levelled at the white\\nspot on its chest, and was about to fire, when it\\nstarted off, ran first to one side and then to the other,\\nlike a vessel tacking against the wind, and at last\\nstretched away at full speed. Then it stopped again,\\nlooked curiously behind it, and trotted up as before\\nbut not so boldly, for it soon paused and stood gaz-\\ning at me. I fired it leaped upward and fell upon\\nits tracks. Measuring the distance, I found it two\\nhundred and four paces. When I stood by his side,\\nthe antelope turned his expiring eye upward. It was\\nlike a beautiful woman s, dark and bright. For-\\ntunate that I am in a hurry, thought I; I might\\nbe troubled with remorse, if I had time for it.\\nCutting the animal up, not in the most skilful\\nmanner, I hung the meat at the back of my saddle,\\nand rode on again. The hills (I could not remember\\none of them) closed around me. It is too late,\\nthought I, to go forward. I will stay here to-\\nnight, and look for the path in the morning. As a\\nlast effort, however, I ascended a high hill, from\\nwhich, to my great satisfaction, I could see Laramie\\nCreek stretching before me, twisting from side to\\nside amid ragged patches of timber and far off, close\\nbeneath the shadows of the trees, the ruins of the", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0191.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "164 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nold trading -fort were visible. I reached them at twi-\\nlight. It was far from pleasant, in that uncertain\\nlight, to be pushing through the dense trees and\\nbushes of the grove beyond. I listened anxiously for\\nthe footfall of man or beast. Nothing was stirring\\nbut one harmless brown bird, chirping among the\\nbranches. I was glad when I gained the open prairie\\nonce more, where I could see if anything approached.\\nWhen I came to the mouth of Chugwater, it was\\ntotally dark. Slackening the reins, I let my horse\\ntake his own course. He trotted on with unerring\\ninstinct, and by nine o clock was scrambling down\\nthe steep descent into the meadows where we were\\nencamped. While I was looking in vain for the light\\nof the fire, Hendrick, with keener perceptions, gave\\na loud neigh, which was immediately answered by\\nanother neigh from the distance. In a moment I was\\nhailed from the darkness by the voice of Reynal,\\nwho had come out, rifle in hand, to see who was\\napproaching.\\nHe, with his squaw, the two Canadians, and the\\nIndian boys, were the sole inmates of the camp, Shaw\\nand Henry Chatillon being still absent. At noon of\\nthe following day they came back, their horses look-\\ning none the better for the journey. Henry seemed\\ndejected. The woman was dead, and his children\\nmust henceforward be exposed, without a protector,\\nto the hardships and vicissitudes of Indian life.\\nEven in the midst of his grief he had not forgotten\\nhis attachment to his bourgeois, for he had procured", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0192.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 165\\namong his Indian relatives two beautifully ornamented\\nbuffalo-robes, which he spread on the ground as a\\npresent to us.\\nShaw lighted his pipe, and told me in a few words\\nthe history of his journey. When I went to the fort\\nthey left me, as I mentioned, at the mouth of\\nChugwater. They followed the course of the little\\nstream all day, traversing a desolate and barren\\ncountry. Several times they came upon the fresh\\ntraces of a large war-party, the same, no doubt, from\\nwhom we had so narrowly escaped an attack. At an\\nhour before sunset, without encountering a human\\nbeing by the way, they came upon the lodges of the\\nsquaw and her brothers, who, in compliance with\\nHenry s message, had left the Indian village, in order\\nto join us at our camp. The lodges were already\\npitched, five in number, by the side of the stream.\\nThe woman lay in one of them, reduced to a mere\\nskeleton. For some time she had been unable to\\nmove or speak. Indeed, nothing had kept her alive\\nbut the hope of seeing Henry, to whom she was\\nstrongly and faithfully attached. No sooner did he\\nenter the lodge than she revived, and conversed with\\nhim the greater part of tlie night. Early in the\\nmorning she was lifted into a traineau^ and the whole\\nparty set out towards our camp. There were but\\nfive warriors; the rest were women and children.\\nThe whole were in great alarm at the proximity of\\nthe Crow war-party, who would certainly have killed\\nthem without mercy had they met. They had", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0193.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "166 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nadvanced only a mile or two, when they discerned a\\nhorseman, far off, on the edge of the horizon. They\\nall stopped, gathering together in the greatest anx-\\niety, from which they did not recover until long after\\nthe horseman disappeared; then they set out again.\\nHenry was riding with Shaw a few rods in advance\\nof the Indians, when Mahto-Tatonka, a younger\\nbrother of the woman, hastily called after them.\\nTurning back, they found all the Indians crowded\\nai ound the trameau in which the woman was lying.\\nThey reached her just in time to hear the death-\\nrattle in her throat. In a moment she lay dead in\\nthe basket of the vehicle. A complete stillness suc-\\nceeded then the Indians raised in concert their cries\\nof lamentation over the corpse, and among them Shaw\\nclearly distinguished those strange sounds resembling\\nthe word Halleluyah, which, together with some\\nother accidental coincidences, has given rise to the\\nabsurd notion that the Indians are descended from\\nthe ten lost tribes of Israel.\\nThe Indian usage required that Henry, as well as\\nthe other relatives of the woman, should make\\nvaluable presents, to be placed by the side of the\\nbody at its last resting-place. Leaving the Indians,\\nhe and Shaw set out for the camp, and reached it, as\\nwe have seen, by hard pushing, at about noon.\\nHaving obtained the necessary articles, they imme-\\ndiately returned. It was very late and quite dark\\nwhen they again reached the lodges. They were all\\nplaced in a deep hollow among dreary hills. Four", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0194.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "THE WAR-PARTIES. 167\\nof them were just visible through the gloom, but the\\nfifth and largest was illumined by the blaze of a fire\\nwithin, glowing through the half-transparent cover-\\ning of raw hides. There was a perfect stillness as\\nthey approached. The lodges seemed without a\\ntenant. Not a living thing was stirring; there was\\nsomething awful in the scene. They rode up to the\\nentrance of the lodge, and there was no sound but\\nthe tramp of their horses. A squaw came out and\\ntook charge of the animals, without speaking a word.\\nEntering, they found the lodge crowded with Indians;\\na fire was burning in the midst, and the mourners\\nencircled it in a triple row. Room was made for the\\nnew-comers at the head of the lodge, a robe spread\\nfor them to sit upon, and a pipe lighted and handed\\nto them in perfect silence. Thus they passed the\\ngreater part of the night. At times the fire would\\nsubside into a heap of embers, until the dark figures\\nseated around it were scarcely visible; then a squaw\\nwould drop upon it a piece of buffalo-fat, and a\\nbright flame, instantly springing up, would reveal\\nthe crowd of wild faces, motionless as bronze. The\\nsilence continued unbroken. It was a relief to Shaw\\nwhen daylight returned and he could escape from\\nthis house of mourning. He and Henry prepared to\\nreturn homeward; first, however, they placed the\\npresents they had brought near the body of the\\nsquaw, which, gaudily attired, remained in a sitting\\nposture in one of the lodges. A fine horse was pick-\\neted not far off, destined to be killed that morning", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0195.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "168 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nfor the service of her spirit; for the woman was lame,\\nand could not travel on foot over the dismal prairies\\nto the villages of the dead. Food, too, was pro-\\nvided, and household implements, for her use upon\\nthis last journey.\\nHenry left her to the care of her relatives, and\\ncame immediately with Shaw to the camp. It was\\nsome time before he entirely recovered from his\\ndejection.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0196.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XI.\\nSCENES AT THE CAMP.\\nReynal heard guns fired one day, at the distance\\nof a mile or two from the camp. He grew nervous\\ninstantly. Visions of Crow war-parties began to\\nhaunt his imagination; and when we returned (for\\nwe were all absent), he renewed his complaints about\\nbeing left alone with the Canadians and the squaw.\\nThe day after, the cause of the alarm appeared.\\nFour trappers, called Morin, Saraphin, Rouleau,\\nand Gingras, came to our camp and joined us. They\\nit was who fired the guns and disturbed the dreams\\nof our confederate Reynal. They soon encamped by\\nour side. Their rifles, dingy and battered with hard\\nservice, rested with ours against the old tree; their\\nstrong rude saddles, their buffalo-robes, their traps,\\nand the few rough and simple articles of their travel-\\nling equipment were piled near our tent. Their\\nmountain-horses were turned to graze in the meadow\\namong our own; and the men themselves, no less\\nrough and hardy, used to lie half the day in the shade\\nof our tree, lolling on the grass, lazily smoking, and\\ntelling stories of their adventures; and I defy the\\nannals of chivalry to furnish the record of a life more", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0197.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "170 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwild and perilous than that of a Rocky Mountain\\ntrapper.\\nWith this efficient reinforcement the agitation of\\nReynal s nerves subsided. We began to conceive a\\nsort of attachment to our old camping-ground yet it\\nwas time to change our quarters, since remaining too\\nlong on one spot must lead to unpleasant results, not\\nto be borne unless in case of dire necessity. The\\ngrass no longer presented a smooth surface of turf;\\nit was trampled into mud and clay. So we removed\\nto another old tree, larger yet, that grew by the side\\nof the river a furlong distant. Its trunk was full six\\nfeet in diameter; on one side it was marked by a\\nparty of Indians with various inexplicable hierogly-\\nphics, commemorating some warlike enterprise, and\\naloft among the branches were the remains of a scaf-\\nfold, where dead bodies had once been deposited,\\nafter the Indian manner.\\nThere comes Bull-Bear, said Henry Chatillon,\\nas we sat on the grass at dinner. Looking up, we\\nsaw several horsemen coming over the neighboring\\nhill, and in a moment four stately young men rode\\nup and dismounted. One of them was Bull-Bear, or\\nMahto-Tatonka, a compound name which he inherited\\nfrom his father, the principal chief in the Ogillallah\\nband. One of his brothers and two other young men\\naccompanied him. We shook hands with the visitors,\\nand when we had finished our meal for this is the\\napproved manner of entertaining Indians, even the\\nbest of them we handed to each a tin cup of coffee", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0198.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 171\\nand a biscuit, at which they ejaculated from the\\nbottom of their throats, How! how! a monosyl-\\nhible by which an Indian contrives to express half\\nthe emotions of which he is susceptible. Then we\\nlighted the pipe, and passed it to them as they\\nsquatted on the ground.\\nWhere is the village\\nThere, said Mahto-Tatonka, pointing south-\\nward; it will come in two days.\\nWill they go to the war?\\nYes.\\nNo man is a philanthropist on the prairie. We\\nwelcomed this news cordially, and congratulated our-\\nselves that Bordeaux s interested efforts to divert The\\nWhirlwind from his congenial vocation of bloodshed\\nhad failed of success, and that no further obstacles\\nwould interpose between us and our plan of repair-\\ning to the rendezvous at La Bont^ s camp.\\nFor that and several succeeding days, Mahto-\\nTatonka and his friends remained our guests. They\\ndevoured the relics of our meals they filled the j^ipe\\nfor us, and also helped us to smoke it. Sometimes\\nthey stretched themselves side by side in the shade,\\nindulging in raillery and equivocal jokes, ill becom-\\ning the dignity of brave and aspiring warriors, such\\nas two of them in reality were.\\nTwo daj S dragged away, and on the morning of\\nthe third we hoped confidently to see the Indian vil-\\nlage. It did not come so we rode out to look for it.\\nIn place of the eight hundred Indians we expected,", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0199.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "172 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwe met one solitary savage riding towards us over the\\nprairie, who told us that the Indians had changed\\ntheir plan, and would not come within three days.\\nTaking along Avith us this messenger of evil tidings,\\nwe retraced our footsteps to the camp, amusing our-\\nselves by the way with execrating Indian incon-\\nstancy. When we came in sight of our little white\\ntent under the big tree, we saw that it no longer\\nstood alone. A huge old lodge was erected by its\\nside, discolored by rain and storms, rotten with age,\\nwith the uncouth figures of horses and men and out-\\nstretched hands that were painted upon it wellnigh\\nobliterated. The long poles which supported this\\nsqualid habitation thrust themselves rakishly out\\nfrom its pointed top, and over its entrance were sus-\\npended a medicine-pipe and various other imple-\\nments of the magic art. While we were yet at a\\ndistance, we observed a greatly increased population\\nof various colors and dimensions, swarming about\\nour quiet encampment. Morin, the trapper, having\\nbeen absent for a day or two, had returned, it seemed,\\nbringing all his family with him. He had taken to\\nhimself a wife, for whom he had paid the established\\nprice of one horse. This looks cheap at first sight,\\nbut in truth the purchase of a squaw is a transaction\\nwhich no man should enter into without mature\\ndeliberation, since it involves not only the payment\\nof the price, but the burden of feeding and support-\\ning a rapacious horde of the bride s relatives, who\\nhold themselves entitled to feed upon the indiscreet", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0200.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 173\\nwhite man. They gather about him like leeches,\\nand drain him of all he has.\\nMorin had not made an aristocratic match. His\\nbride s relatives occupied but a contemptible position\\nin Ogillallah society; for among these democrats of\\nthe prairie, as among others more civilized, there\\nare virtual distinctions of rank and place. Morin s\\npai tner was not the most beautiful of her sex, and\\nhe had the bad taste to array her in an old calico\\ngown, bought from an emigrant woman, instead of\\nthe neat tunic of whitened deer-skin usually worn by\\nthe squaws. The moving spirit of the establishment\\nwas an old hag of eighty. Human imagination never\\nconceived hobgoblin or witch more ugly than she.\\nYou could count all her ribs through the wrinkles of\\nher leathery skin. Her withered face more resembled\\nan old skull than the countenance of a living being,\\neven to the hollow, darkened sockets, at the bottom\\nof which glittered her little black eyes. Her arms\\nhad dwindled into nothing but whip-cord and wire.\\nHer hair, half black, half gray, hung in total neglect\\nnearly to the ground, and her sole garment consisted\\nof the remnant of a discarded buffalo-robe tied round\\nher waist with a string of hide. Yet the old squaw s\\nmeagre anatomy was wonderfully strong. She pitched\\nthe lodge, packed the horses, and did the hardest\\nlabor of the camp. From morning till night she\\nbustled about the lodge, screaming like a screech-\\nowl when anything displeased her. Her brother, a\\nmedicine-man, or magician, was equally gaunt", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0201.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "174 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand sinewy with herself. His mouth spread from\\near to ear, and his appetite, as we had occasion to\\nlearn, was ravenous in proportion. The other in-\\nmates of the lodge were a young bride and bride-\\ngroom, the latter one of those idle, good-for-nothing\\nfellows who infest an Indian village as well as more\\ncivilized communities. He was fit neither for hunt-\\ning nor war, as one might see from the stolid unmean-\\ning expression of his face. The happy pair had just\\nentered upon the honeymoon. They would stretch a\\nbuffalo-robe upon poles, to protect them from the\\nrays of the sun, and spreading under it a couch of\\nfurs, would sit affectionately side by side for half the\\nday, though I could not discover that much conver-\\nsation passed between them. Probably they had\\nnothing to say for an Indian s supply of topics for\\nconversation is far from being copious. There were\\nhalf a dozen children, too, playing and whooping\\nabout the camp, shooting birds with little bows and\\narrows, or making miniature lodges of sticks, as\\nchildren of a different complexion build houses of\\nblocks.\\nA day passed, and Indians began rapidly to come\\nin. Parties of two, three, or more would ride up\\nand silently seat themselves on the grass. The\\nfourth day came at last, when about noon horsemen\\nappeared in view on the summit of the neighboring\\nridge. Behind followed a wild procession, hurrying\\nin haste and disorder down the hill and over the\\nplain below; horses, mules, and dogs; heavily-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0202.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 175\\nburdened traineaux., mounted warriors, squaws walk-\\ning amid the throng, and a host of children. For a\\nfull half-hour they continued to pour down; and\\nkeeping directly to the bend of the stream, within a\\nfurlong of us, they soon assembled there, a dark and\\nconfused throng, until, as if by magic, a hundred\\nand fifty tall lodges sprang up. The lonely plain\\nwas transformed into the site of a swarming encamp-\\nment. Countless horses were soon grazing over the\\nmeadows around us, and the prairie was animated by\\nrestless figures careering on horseback, or sedately\\nstalking in their long white robes. The Whirlwind\\nwas come at last. One question yet remained to be\\nanswered Will he go to the war in order that we,\\nwith so respectable an escort, may pass over to the\\nsomewhat perilous rendezvous at La Bont^ s camp?\\nThis still remained in doubt. Characteristic inde-\\ncision perplexed their councils. Indians cannot act\\nin large bodies. Though their object be of the\\nhighest importance, they cannot combine to attain it\\nby a series of connected efforts. King Philip,\\nPontiac, and Tecumseh, all felt this to their cost.\\nThe Ogillallah once had a war-chief who could con-\\ntrol them but he was dead, and now they were left\\nto the sway of their own unsteady impulses.\\nAs this Indian village and its inhabitants will hold\\na prominent place in the rest of the story, perhaps it\\nmay not be amiss to glance for an instant at the sav-\\nage people of which they form a part. The Dahcotah\\nor Sioux range over a vast territory, from the river", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0203.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "176 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nSt. Peter to the Rocky Mountains. They are divided\\ninto several independent bands, united under no\\ncentral government, and acknowledging no common\\nhead. The same language, usages, and superstitions\\nform the sole bond between them. They do not\\nunite even in their wars. The bands of the east fight\\nthe Ojibwas on the Upper Lakes; those of the west\\nmake incessant war upon the Snake Indians in the\\nRocky Mountains. As the whole people is divided\\ninto bands, so each band is divided into villages.\\nEach village has a chief, who is honored and obeyed\\nonly so far as his personal qualities may command\\nrespect and fear. Sometimes he is a mere nominal\\nchief; sometimes his authority is little short of abso-\\nlute, and his fame and influence reach beyond his\\nown village, so that the whole band to which he\\nbelongs is ready to acknowledge him as their head.\\nThis was, a few years since, the case with the Ogil-\\nlallah. Courage, address, and enterprise may raise\\nany warrior to the highest honor, especially if he be\\nthe son of a former chief, or a member of a numerous\\nfamily, to support him and avenge his quarrels but\\nwhen he has reached the dignity of chief, and the old\\nmen and warriors, by a peculiar ceremony, have\\nformally installed him, let it not be imagined that he\\nassumes any of the outward signs of rank and honor.\\nHe knows too well on how frail a tenure he holds his\\nstation. He must conciliate his uncertain subjects.\\nMany a man in the village lives better, owns more\\nsquaws and more horses, and goes better clad than", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0204.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 177\\nhe. Like the Teutonic chiefs of old, he ingratiates\\nhimself with his young men by making them presents,\\nthereby often impoverishing himself. If he fails to\\ngain their favor, they will set his authority at naught,\\nand may desert him at any moment; for the usages\\nof his people have provided no means of enforcing\\nhis authority. Veiy seldom does it happen, at least\\namong these western bands, that a chief attains to\\nmuch power, unless he is the head of a numerous\\nfamily. Frequently the village is principally made\\nup of his relatives and descendants, and the wan-\\ndering community assumes much of the patriarchal\\ncharacter.\\nThe western Dahcotah have no fixed habitations.\\nHunting and fighting, they wander incessantly,\\nthrough summer and winter. Some follow the herds\\nof buffalo over the waste of prairie others traverse\\nthe Black Hills, thronging, on horseback and on\\nfoot, through the dark gulfs and sombre gorges, and\\nemerging at last upon the Parks, those beautiful\\nbut most perilous hunting-grounds. The buffalo\\nsupplies them with the necessaries of life; with\\nhabitations, food, clothing, beds, and fuel; strings\\nfor their bows, glue, thread, cordage, trail-ropes\\nfor their horses, coverings for their saddles, vessels\\nto hold water, boats to cross streams, and the means\\nof purchasing all that they want from the traders.\\nWhen the buffalo are extinct, the}^ too must dwindle\\naway.\\nWar is the breath of their nostrils. Against most\\n12", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0205.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "178 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nof the neighboring tribes they cherish a rancorous\\nhatred, transmitted from father to son, and inflamed\\nby constant aggression and retaliation. Many times\\na year, in every village, the Great Spirit is called\\nupon, fasts are made, the war-parade is celebrated,\\nand the warriors go out by handfuls at a time against\\nthe enemy. This fierce spirit awakens their most\\neager aspirations, and calls forth their greatest ener-\\ngies. It is chiefly this that saves them from lethargy\\nand utter abasement. Without its powerful stimulus\\nthey would be like the un warlike tribes beyond the\\nmountains, scattered among the caves and rocks like\\nbeasts, and living on roots and reptiles. These latter\\nhave little of humanity except the form; but the\\nproud and ambitious Dahcotah warrior can sometimes\\nboast heroic virtues. It is seldom that distinction\\nand influence are attained among them by any other\\ncourse than that of arms. Their superstition, how-\\never, sometimes gives great power to those among\\nthem who pretend to the character of magicians and\\ntheir orators, such as they are, have their share of\\nhonor.\\nBut to return. Look into our tent, or enter, if\\nyou can bear the stifling smoke and the close air.\\nThere, wedged close together, you will see a circle\\nof stout warriors, passing the pipe around, joking,\\ntelling stories, and making themselves merry after\\ntheir fashion. We were also infested by little\\ncopper-colored naked bo3 S and snake-eyed girls.\\nThey would come up to us, muttering certain words,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0206.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 179\\nwhich being interpreted conveyed the concise invita-\\ntion, Come and eat. Then we would rise, cursing\\nthe pertinacity of Dahcotah hospitality, which allowed\\nscarcely an hour of rest between sun and sun, and to\\nwhich we were bound to do honor, unless we would\\noffend our entertainers. This necessity was particu-\\nlarly burdensome to me, as I was scarcely able to\\nwalk, from the effects of illness, and was poorly\\nqualified to dispose of twenty meals a day. So\\nbounteous an entertainment looks like an outgushing\\nof goodwill but, doubtless, half at least of our kind\\nhosts, had they met us alone and unarmed on the\\nprairie, would have robbed us of our horses, and\\nperhaps have bestowed an arrow upon us besides.\\nOne morning we were summoned to the lodge of\\nan old man, the Nestor of his tribe. We found him\\nhalf sitting, half reclining, on a pile of buffalo-robes\\nhis long hair, jet-black, though he had seen some\\neighty winters, hung on either side of his thin features.\\nHis gaunt but symmetrical frame did not more clearly\\nexhibit the Avreck of bj gone strength, than did his\\ndark, wasted features, still prominent and command-\\ning, bear the stamp of mental energies. Opposite\\nthe patriarch was his nephew, the young aspirant\\nMahto-Ta tonka and besides these, there were one\\nor two women in the lodge.\\nThe old man s story is peculiar, and illustrative of\\na superstition that prevails in full force among many\\nof the Indian tribes. He was one of a powerful\\nfamily, renowned for warlike exploits. When a", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0207.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "180 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nvery young man, he submitted to the singular rite to\\nwhich most of the tribe subject themselves before\\nentering upon life. He painted his face black then\\nseeking out a cavern in a sequestered part of the\\nBlack Hills, he lay for several days, fasting, and\\npraying to the spirits. In the dreams and visions\\nproduced by his weakened and excited state, he\\nfancied, like all Indians, that he saw supernatural\\nrevelations. Again and again the form of an ante-\\nlope appeared before him. The antelope is the grace-\\nful peace spirit of the Ogillallah; but seldom is it\\nthat such a gentle visitor presents itself during the\\ninitiatory fasts of their young men. The terrible\\ngrizzly bear, the divinity of war, usually appears to\\nfire them with martial ardor and thirst for renown.\\nAt length the antelope spoke. It told the young\\ndreamer that he was not to follow the path of war;\\nthat a life of peace and tranquillity was marked out\\nfor him; that thenceforward he was to guide the\\npeople by his counsels, and protect them from the\\nevils of their own feuds and dissensions. Others\\nwere to gain renown by fighting the enemy; but\\ngreatness of a different kind was in store for him.\\nThe visions beheld during the period of this fast\\nusually determine the whole course of the dreamer s\\nlife. From that time, Le Borgne, which was the only\\nname by which we knew him, abandoned all thoughts\\nof war, and devoted himself to the labors of peace.\\nHe told his vision to the people. They honored his\\ncommission and respected him in his novel capacity.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0208.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 181\\nA far different man was his brother, Mahto-\\nTatonka, who had left his name, his features, and\\nmany of his qualities, to his son. He was the father\\nof Henry Chatillon s squaw, a circumstance which\\nproved of some advantage to us, as it secured the\\nfriendship of a family perhaps the most noted and\\ninfluential in the whole Ogillallah band; Mahto-\\nTatonka, in his way, was a hero. No chief could\\nvie with him in warlike renown, or in power over\\nhis people. He had a fearless spirit, and an impetu-\\nous and inflexible resolution. His will was law. He\\nwas politic and sagacious, and with true Indian craft,\\nalways befriended the whites, knowing that he might\\nthus reap great advantages for himself and his adhe-\\nrents. When he had resolved on any course of con-\\nduct, he would pay to the warriors the compliment\\nof calling them together to deliberate upon it, and\\nwhen their debates were over, quietly state his own\\nopinion, which no one ever disputed. It fared hard\\nwith those who incurred his displeasure. He would\\nstrike them or stab them on the spot and this act,\\nwhich, if attempted by any other chief would have\\ncost him his life, the awe inspired by his name enabled\\nhim to repeat again and again with impunity. In a\\ncommunity where, from immemorial time, no man\\nhas acknowledged any law but his own will, Mahto-\\nTatonka raised himself to power little short of despotic.\\nHis career came at last to an end. He had a host\\nof enemies patiently biding their time and our old\\nfriend Smoke in particular, together with all his", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0209.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "182 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nkinsmen, hated him cordially. Smoke sat one day\\nin his lodge, in the midst of his own village, when\\nMahto-Tatonka entered it alone, and approaching\\nthe dwelling of his enemy, challenged him in a loud\\nvoice to come out, and fight. Smoke would not\\nmove. At this, Mahto-Tatonka proclaimed him a\\ncoward and an old woman, and, striding to the\\nentrance of the lodge, stabbed the chief s best horse,\\nwhich was picketed there. Smoke was daunted, and\\neven this insult failed to bring him out. Mahto-\\nTatonka moved haughtily away; all made way for\\nhim; but his hour of reckoning was near.\\nOne hot day, five or six years ago, numerous\\nlodges of Smoke s kinsmen were gathered about\\nsome of the Fur Company s men, who were trading\\nin various articles with them, whiskey among the\\nrest. Mahto-Tatonka was also there with a few of\\nhis people. As he lay in his own lodge, a fray arose\\nbetween his adherents and the kinsmen of his enemy.\\nThe war-whoop was raised, bullets and arrows began\\nto fly, and the camp was in confusion. The chief\\nsprang up, and rushing in a fury from the lodge,\\nshouted to the combatants on both sides to cease.\\nInstantly for the attack was preconcerted came\\nthe reports of two or tliree guns, and the twanging\\nof a dozen bows, and the savage hero, mortally\\nwounded, pitched forward headlong to the ground.\\nRouleau was present, and told me the particulars.\\nThe tumult became general, and was not quelled\\nuntil several had fallen on both sides. When we", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0210.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 183\\nwere in the country the feud between the two\\nfamilies was still rankling.\\nThus died Mahto-Tatonka but he left behind him\\na goodly army of descendants, to perpetuate his\\nrenown and avenge his fate. Besides daughters, he\\nhad thirty sons, a number which need not stagger the\\ncredulity of those acquainted with Indian usages and\\nj)ractices. We saw many of them, all marked by\\nthe same dark complexion, and the same peculiar\\ncast of features. Of these, our visitor, young Mahto-\\nTatonka, was the eldest, and some reported him as\\nlikely to succeed to his father s honors. Though he\\nappeared not more than twenty-one years old, he had\\noftener struck the enemy, and stolen more horses and\\nmore squaws, than any young man in the village.\\nHorse-stealing is well known as an avenue to distinc-\\ntion on the prairies, and the other kind of depreda-\\ntion is esteemed equally meritorious. Not that the\\nact can confer fame from its own intrinsic merits.\\nAny one can steal a squaw, and if he chooses after-\\nwards to make an adequate present to her rightful\\nproprietor, the easy husband for the most part rests\\ncontent, his vengeance falls asleep, and all danger\\nfrom that quarter is averted. Yet this is regarded\\nas a pitiful and mean-spirited transaction. The\\ndanger is averted, but the glory of the achievement\\nalso is lost. Mahto-Tatonka proceeded after a more\\ndashing fashion. Out of several dozen squaws whom\\nhe had stolen, he could boast that he had never paid\\nfor one, but snapping his fingers in the face of the", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0211.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "184 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ninjured husband, had defied the extremity of his\\nindignation, and no one yet had dared to lay the\\nfinger of violence upon him. He was following close\\nin the footsteps of his father. The young men and\\nthe young squaws, each in their way, admired him.\\nThe former would always follow him to war, and he\\nwas esteemed to have an unrivalled charm in the\\neyes of the latter. Perhaps his impunity may excite\\nsome wonder. An arrow-shot from a ravine, or a\\nstab given in the dark, require no great valor, and\\nare especially suited to the Indian genius but Mahto-\\nTatonka had a strong protection. It was not alone\\nhis courage and audacious will that enabled him to\\ncareer so dashingly among his compeers. His ene-\\nmies did not forget that he was one of thirty warlike\\nbrethren, all growing up to manhood. Should they\\nwreak their anger upon him, many keen eyes would\\nbe ever upon them, and many fierce hearts thirst for\\ntheir blood. The avenger would dog their footsteps\\neverywhere. To kill Mahto-Tatonka would be an\\nact of suicide.\\nThough he found such favor in the eyes of the\\nfair, he was no dandy. He was indifferent to the\\ngaudy trappings and ornaments of his companions,\\nand was content to rest his chances of success upon\\nhis own warlike merits. He never arrayed himself\\nin gaudy blanket and glittering necklaces, but left\\nhis statue-like form, limbed like an Apollo of bronze,\\nto win its way to favor. His voice was singularly\\ndeep and strong, and sounded from his chest like the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0212.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 185\\ndeep notes of an organ. Yet, after all, he was but an\\nIndian. See him as he lies there in the sun before\\nonr tent, kicking his heels in the air and cracking\\njokes with his brother. Does he look like a hero?\\nSee him now in the hour of his glory, when at sunset\\nthe whole village empties itself to behold him, for\\nto-morrow their favorite young partisan goes out\\nagainst the enemy. His head-dress is adorned with\\na crest of the war-eagle s feathers, rising in a waving\\nridge above his brow, and sweeping far behind him.\\nHis round white shield hangs at his breast, with\\nfeathers radiating from the centre like a star. His\\nquiver is at his back his tall lance in his hand, the\\niron point flashing against the declining sun, while\\nthe long scalp-locks of his enemies flutter from the\\nshaft. Thus, gorgeous as a champion in panoply, he\\nrides round and round within the great circle of\\nlodges, balancing with a graceful buoyancy to the\\nfree movements of his war-horse, while with a sedate\\nbrow he sings his song to the Great Spirit. Young\\nrival warriors look askance at him vermilion-cheeked\\ngirls gaze in admiration boys whoop and scream in\\na thrill of delight, and old women yell forth his name\\nand proclaim his praises from lodge to lodge.\\nINIahto-Tatonka was the best of all our Indian\\nfriends. Hour after hour, and day after day, when\\nswarms of savages of every age, sex, and degree\\nbeset our camp, he would lie in our tent, his lynx-\\neye ever open to guard ovir property from pillage.\\nThe Whirlwind invited us one day to his lodge.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0213.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "186 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThe feast was finished, and the pipe began to circu-\\nlate. It was a remarkably large and fine one, and I\\nexpressed admiration of it.\\nIf the Meneaska likes the pipe, asked The\\nWhirlwind, why does he not keep it?\\nSuch a pipe among the Ogillallah is valued at the\\nprice of a horse. The gift seemed worthy of a chief-\\ntain and a warrior; but The Whirlwind s generosity\\nrose to no such pitch. He gave me the pipe, confi-\\ndently expecting that I in return would make him\\na present of equal or superior value. This is the\\nimplied condition of every gift among the Indians,\\nand should it not be complied with, the present is\\nusually reclaimed. So I arranged upon a gaudy\\ncalico handkerchief an assortment of vermilion,\\ntobacco, knives, and gunpowder, and summoning the\\nchief to camp, assured him of my friendship, and\\nbegged his acceptance of a slight token of it. Ejacu-\\nlating, How! how! he folded up the offerings and\\nwithdrew to his lodge.\\nLate one afternoon a party of Indians on horseback\\ncame suddenly in sight from behind some clumps of\\nbushes that lined the bank of the stream, leading\\nwith them a mule, on whose back was a wretched\\nnegro, sustained in his seat by the high pommel and\\ncan tie of the Indian saddle. His cheeks were shrunken\\nin the hollow of his jaws his eyes were unnaturally\\ndilated, and his lips shrivelled and drawn back from\\nhis teeth like those of a corpse. When they brought\\nhim before our tent, and lifted him from the saddle,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0214.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 187\\nhe could not walk or stand, but crawled a short dis-\\ntance, and with a look of utter misery sat down on\\nthe grass. All the children and women came pour-\\ning out of the lodges, and with screams and cries\\nmade a circle about him, while he sat supporting\\nhimself with his hands, and looking from side to side\\nwith a vacant stare. The wretch was starving to\\ndeath. For thirty-three days he had wandered alone\\non the prairie, without weapon of any kind; without\\nshoes, moccasons, or any other clothing than an old\\njacket and trousers; without intelligence to guide\\nhis course, or any knowledge of the productions of\\nthe prairie. All this time he had subsisted on\\ncrickets and lizards, wild onions, and three eggs\\nwhich he found in the nest of a prairie-dove. He had\\nnot seen a human being. Bewildered in the bound-\\nless, hopeless desert that stretched around him, he\\nhad walked on in despair, till he could walk no\\nlonger, and then crawled on his knees, till the bone\\nwas laid bare. He chose the night for travelling,\\nlying down by day to sleep in the glaring sun, always\\ndreaming, as he said, of the broth and corn-cake he\\nused to eat under his old master s shed in Missouri.\\nEvery man in the camp, both white and red, was\\nastonished at his escape not only from starvation, but\\nfrom the grizzly bears, which abound in that neigh-\\nborhood, and the wolves which howled around him\\nevery night.\\nReynal recognized him the moment the Indians\\nbrought him in. He had run away from his master", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0215.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "188 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nabout a year before and joined the party of Richard,\\nwho was then leaving the frontier for the mountains.\\nHe had lived with Richard until, at the end of IMay,\\nhe with Reynal and several other men went out in\\nsearch of some stray horses, when he was separated\\nfrom the rest in a storm, and had never been heard\\nof to this time. Knowing his inexperience and help-\\nlessness, no one dreamed that he could still be living.\\nThe Indians had found him lying exhausted on the\\nground.\\nAs he sat there, with the Indians gazing silently\\non him, his haggard face and glazed eye were dis-\\ngusting to look upon. Deslauriers made him a bowl\\nof gruel, but he suffered it to remain untasted before\\nhim. At length he languidly raised the spoon to his\\nlips again he did so, and again and then his appe-\\ntite seemed suddenly inflamed into madness, for he\\nseized the bowl, swallowed all its contents in a few\\nseconds, and eagerly demanded meat. This we\\nrefused, telling him to wait until morning; but he\\nbegged so eagerly that we gave him a small piece,\\nwhich he devoured, tearing it like a dog. He said\\nhe must have more. We told him that his life was\\nin danger if he ate so immoderately at first. He as-\\nsented, and said he knew he was a fool to do so, but\\nhe must have meat. This we absolutely refused, to\\nthe great indignation of the senseless squaws, who,\\nwhen we were not watching him, would slyly bring\\ndried meat and pommes hlanclics, and place them on\\nthe ground by his side. Still this was not enough for", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0216.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 189\\nhim. When it greAV dark he contrived to creep away\\nbetween the legs of the horses and crawl over to the\\nIndian camp. Here he fed to his heart s content,\\nand was brought back again in the morning, when\\nGingras, the trapper, put him on horseback and car-\\nried him to the fort. He managed to survive the\\neffects of his greediness. Though slightly deranged\\nwhen we left this part of the country, he was other-\\nwise in tolerable health, and expressed his firm con-\\nviction that nothing could ever kill him.\\nWhen the sun was yet an hour high, it was a gay\\nscene in the village. The warriors stalked sedately\\namong the lodges, or along the margin of the stream,\\nor walked out to visit the bands of horses that were\\nfeeding over the prairie. Half the population deserted\\nthe close and heated lodges and betook themselves\\nto the water; and here you might see boys and girls,\\nand young squaws, splashing, swimming, and diving,\\nbeneath the afternoon sun, with merry screams and\\nlaughter. But when the sun was resting above the\\nbroken peaks, and the purple mountains threw their\\nshadows for miles over the prairie when our old tree\\nbasked peacefully in the horizontal rays, and the\\nswelling plains and scattered groves were softened\\ninto a tranquil beauty, then the scene around our\\ntent was worthy of a Salvator. Savage figures, with\\nquivers at their backs, and guns, lances, or toma-\\nhawks in their hands, sat on horseback, motionless\\nas statues, their arms crossed on their breasts and\\ntheir eyes fixed in a steady unwavering gaze upon", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0217.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "190 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nUS. Others stood erect, wrapped from head to foot\\nin their long white robes of buffalo-hide. Others\\nsat together on the grass, holding their shaggy horses\\nby a rope, with their dark busts exposed to view as\\nthey suffered their robes to fall from their shoulders.\\nOthers again stood carelessly among the throng, with\\nnothing to conceal the matchless symmetry of their\\nforms. There was one in particular, a ferocious\\nfellow, named The Mad Wolf, who, with the bow in\\nhis hand and the quiver at his back, might have\\nseemed, but for his face, the Pythian Apollo himself.\\nSuch a figure rose before the imagination of West,\\nwhen, on first seeing the Belvedere in the Vatican, he\\nexclaimed, By God, a Mohawk\\nWhen the prairie grew dark, the horses were driven\\nin and secured near the camp, and the crowd began to\\nmelt away. Fires gleamed around, duskily revealing\\nthe rough trappers and the graceful Indians. One\\nof the families near us was always gathered about a\\nbright fire that lighted up the interior of their lodge.\\nWithered, witch-like hags flitted around the blaze;\\nand here for hour after hour sat a circle of children\\nand young girls, laughing and talking, their round\\nmerry faces glowing in the ruddy light. We could\\nhear the monotonous notes of the drum from the\\nIndian camp, with the chant of the war-song, dead-\\nened in the distance, and the long chorus of quaver-\\ning yells, where the war-dance was going on in the\\nlargest lodge. For several nights, too, we heard\\nwild and mournful cries, rising and dying away like", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0218.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "SCENES AT THE CAMP. 191\\nthe melancholy voice of a wolf. They came from the\\nsisters and female relatives of Mahto-Tatonka, who\\nwere gashing their limbs with knives, and bewailing\\nthe death of Henry Chatillon s squaw. The hour\\nwould grow late before all went to rest in our camp.\\nThen, while the embers of the fires glowed dimly, the\\nmen lay stretched in their blankets on the ground,\\nand nothing could be heard but the restless motions\\nof the crowded horses.\\nI recall these scenes with a mixed feeling of\\npleasure and pain. At this time, I was so reduced\\nby illness that I could seldom walk without reeling\\nlike a drunken man, and when I rose from my seat\\nupon the ground, the landscape suddenly grew dim\\nbefore my eyes, the trees and lodges seemed to sway\\nto and fro, and the prairie to rise and fall like the\\nswells of the ocean. Such a state of things is not\\nenviable anywhere. In a country where a man s life\\nmay at any moment depend on the strength of his\\narm, or it may be on the activity of his legs, it is\\nmore particularly inconvenient. Nor is sleeping on\\ndamp ground, with an occasional drenching from a\\nshower, ver}^ beneficial in such cases. I sometimes\\nsuffered the extremity of exhaustion, and was in a\\ntolerably fair way of atoning for my love of the\\nprairie by resting there forever.\\nI tried repose and a very sparing diet. For a long\\ntime, with exemplary patience, I lounged about the\\ncamp, or at the utmost staggered over to the Indian\\nvillage, and walked faint and dizzy among the lodges.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0219.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "192 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nIt would not do; and I bethought me of starvation.\\nDuring five days I sustained life on one small biscuit\\na day. At the end of that time I was weaker than\\nbefore, but the disorder seemed shaken in its strong-\\nhold, and very gradually I began to resume a less\\nrigid diet.\\nI used to lie languid and dreamy before our tent,\\nmusing on the past and the future, and when most\\novercome with lassitude, m}^ eyes turned always\\ntowards the distant Black Hills. There is a spirit of\\nenergy in mountains, and they impart it to all who\\napproach them. At that time I did not know how\\nmany dark superstitions and gloomy legends are asso-\\nciated with the Black Hills in the minds of the\\nIndians, but I felt an eager desire to penetrate their\\nhidden recesses, and explore the chasms and preci-\\npices, black torrents and silent forests, that I fancied\\nwere concealed there.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0220.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XII.\\nILL-LUCK.\\nA Canadian came from Fort Laramie, and brought\\na curious piece of intelligence. A trapper, fresh\\nfrom the mountains, had become enamoured of a\\nMissouri damsel belonging to a family who with\\nother emigrants had been for some days encamped in\\nthe neighborhood of the fort. If bravery be the most\\npotent charm to win the favor of the fair, then no\\nwooer could be more irresistible than a Rocky Moun-\\ntain trapper. In the present instance, the suit was\\nnot urged in vain. The lovers concerted a scheme,\\nwhich they proceeded to carr}- into effect with all\\npossible despatch. The emigrant party left the fort,\\nand on the next night but one encamped as usual,\\nand placed a guard. A little after midnight, the\\nenamoured trapper drew near, mounted on a strong\\nhorse, and leading another by the bridle. Fastening\\nboth animals to a tree, he stealthily moved towards\\nthe wagons, as if he were approaching a band of\\nbuffalo. Eluding the vigilance of the guard, who\\nwere probably half asleep, he met his mistress by\\nappointment at the outskirts of the camp, mounted\\nher on his spare horse, and made off with her through\\nthe darkness. The sequel of the adventure did not\\n13", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0221.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "194 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nreach our ears, and we never learned how the impru-\\ndent fair one liked an Indian locige for a dwelling,\\nand a reckless trapper for a bridegroom.\\nAt length The Whirlwind and his warriors deter-\\nmined to move. They had resolved after all their\\npreparations not to go to the rendezvous at La Bontd s\\ncamp, but to pass through the Black Hills and spend\\na few weeks in hunting the buffalo on the other side,\\nuntil they had killed enough to furnish them with a\\nstock of provisions and with hides to make their\\nlodges for the next season. This done, they were to\\nsend out a small independent war-party against the\\nenemy. Their final determination placed us in some\\nembarrassment. Should we go to La Bont^ s camp,\\nit was not impossible that the other villages would\\nprove as vacillating as The Whirlwind s, and that no\\nassembly whatever would take place. Our old com-\\npanion Reynal had conceived a liking for us, or\\nrather for our biscuit and coffee, and for the occa-\\nsional small presents which we made him. He was\\nvery anxious that Ave should go with the village\\nwhich he himself intended to follow. He was cer-\\ntain that no Indians would meet at the rendezvous,\\nand said, moreover, that it would be easy to convey\\nour cart and baggage through the Black Hills. He\\nknew, however, nothing of the matter. Neither he\\nnor any white man with us had ever seen the diffi-\\ncult and obscure defiles through which the Indians\\nintended to make their way. I passed them after-\\nwards, and had much ado to force my distressed", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0222.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "ILL-LUCK. 195\\nhorse along the narrow ravines, and through chasms\\nwhere daylight could scarcely penetrate. Our cart\\nmight as easily have been driven over the summit of\\nPike s Peak. But of this we were ignorant; and in\\nview of the difficulties and uncertainties of an attempt\\nto visit the rendezvous, we recalled the old proverb,\\nabout A bird in the hand, and decided to follow\\nthe village.\\nBoth camps, the Indians and our own, broke up\\non the morning of the first of July. I was so weak\\nthat the aid of a spoonful of whiskey, swallowed at\\nshort intervals, alone enabled me to sit my horse\\nthrough the short journey of that day. For half a\\nmile before us and half a mile behind, the prairie was\\ncovered far and wide with the moving throng of\\nsavages. The barren, broken plain stretched away to\\nthe right and left, and far in front rose the precipi-\\ntous ridge of the Black Hills. We pushed forward\\nto the head of the scattered column, passing burdened\\ntraineaux, heavily laden pack-horses, gaunt old women\\non foot, gay young squaws on horseback, restless\\nchildren running among the crowd, old men striding\\nalong in their white buffalo-robes, and groups of\\nyoung warriors mounted on their best horses. Henry\\nChatillon, looking backward over the distant prairie,\\nexclaimed suddenly that a horseman was approach-\\ning, and in truth we could just discern a small black\\nspeck slowly moving over the face of a distant swell,\\nlike a fly creeping on a wall. It rapidly grew larger\\nas it approached.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0223.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "196 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nWhite man, I b lieve, said Henry; look how\\nhe ride. Indian never ride that way. Yes; he got\\nrifle on the saddle before him.\\nThe horseman disappeared in a hollow of the\\nprairie, but we soon saw him again, and as he came\\nriding at a gallop towards us through the crowd of\\nIndians, his long hair streaming in the wind behind\\nhim, we recognized the ruddy face and old buckskin\\nfrock of Gingras the trapper. He w^as just arrived\\nfrom Fort Laramie, and said he had a message for us.\\nA trader named Bisonette, one of Henry s friends,\\nhad lately come from the settlements, and intended\\nto go with a party of men to La Bont^ s camp, where,\\nas Gingras assured us, ten or twelve villages of\\nIndians would certainly assemble. Bisonette desired\\nthat we would cross over and meet him there, and\\npromised that his men should protect our horses and\\nbaggage while we went among the Indians. Shaw\\nand I stopped our horses, held a council, and in an\\nevil hour resolved to go.\\nFor the rest of that day our course and that of the\\nIndians was the same. In less than an hour we came\\nto where the high barren prairie terminated, sinking\\ndown abruptly in steep descent and standing on the\\nverge, we saw below us a great meadow. Laramie\\nCreek bounded it on the left, sweeping along in the\\nshadow of the heights, and passing with its shallow\\nand rapid current just beneath us. We sat on horse-\\nback, waiting and looking on, Avhile the whole savage\\narray went pouring by, hurrying down the declivity", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0224.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "ILL-LUCIC 197\\nand spreading over the meadow below. In a few\\nmoments the plain was swarming with the moving\\nmultitude, some just visible, like specks in the dis-\\ntance, others still hastening by and fording the stream\\nin bustle and confusion. On the edge of the heights\\nsat a group of the elder warriors, gravely smoking\\nand looking with unmoved faces on the wild and\\nstriking spectacle.\\nUp went the lodges in a circle on the margin of\\nthe stream. For the sake of quiet we pitched our\\ntent among some trees half a mile distant. In the\\nafternoon we were in the village. The day was a\\nglorious one, and the whole camp seemed lively and\\nanimated in sympathy. Groups of children and\\nyoung girls were laughing gayly outside the lodges.\\nThe shields, the lances, and the bows were removed\\nfrom the tall tripods on which they usually hung,\\nbefore the dwellings of their owners. The warriors\\nwere mounting their horses, and one by one riding\\naway over the prairie towards the neighboring hills.\\nShaw and I sat on the grass near the lodge of\\nReynal. An old woman, with true Indian hospitality,\\nbrought a bowl of boiled venison and placed it before\\nus. We amused ourselves with watching a few\\nyoung squaws who were plapng together and chas-\\ning each other in and out of one of the lodges. Sud-\\ndenly the wild yell of the war-whoop came pealing\\nfrom the hills. A crowd of horsemen appeared,\\nrushing down their sides, and riding at full speed\\ntowards the village, each warrior s long hair flying", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0225.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "198 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbehind him in the wind like a ship s streamer. As\\nthey approached, the confused throng assumed a\\nregular order, and entering two by two, they circled\\nround the area at full gallop, each warrior singing\\nhis war-song as he rode. Some of their dresses were\\nsuperb. They wore crests of feathers, and close\\ntunics of antelope skins, fringed with the scalp -locks\\nof their enemies many of their shields, too, fluttered\\nwith the war-eagle s feathers. All had bows and\\narrows at their backs some carried long lances, and\\na few were armed with guns. The White Shield,\\ntheir partisan, rode in gorgeous attire at their head,\\nmounted on a black-and-white horse. Mahto-Tatonka\\nand his brothers took no part in this parade, for they\\nwere in mourning for their sister, and were all sitting\\nin their lodges, their bodies bedaubed from head to\\nfoot with white clay, and a lock of hair cut from the\\nforehead of each.\\nThe warriors rode three times round the village;\\nand as each noted champion passed, the old women\\nwould scream out his name, to honor his bravery,\\nand excite the emulation of the younger warriors.\\nLittle urchins, not two years old, followed the war-\\nlike pageant with glittering eyes, and gazed with\\neager admiration at the heroes of their tribe.\\nThe procession rode out of the village as it had\\nentered it, and in half an hour all the warriors had\\nreturned again, dropping quietly in, singly or in\\nparties of two or three.\\nThe parade over, we were entertained with an", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0226.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "ILL-LUCK. 199\\nepisode of Indian domestic life. A vicious-looking\\nsquaw, beside herself with rage, was berating her\\nspouse, who, with a look of total unconcern, sat\\ncross-legged in the middle of his lodge, smoking his\\npipe in silence. At length, maddened by his cool-\\nness, she made a rush at the lodge, seized the poles\\nwhich supported it, and tugged at them, one after\\nthe other, till she brought down the whole structure,\\npoles, hides, and all, clattering on his head, burying\\nhim in the wreck of his habitation. He pushed aside\\nthe hides with his hand, and presently his head\\nemerged, like a turtle s from its shell. Still he sat\\nsmoking sedately as before, a wicked glitter in his\\neyes alone betraying the pent-up storm within. The\\nsquaw, scolding all the while, proceeded to saddle\\nher horse, bestride him, and canter out of the camp,\\nintending, as it seemed, to return to her father s\\nlodge, wherever that might be. The warrior, who\\nhad not deigned even to look at her, now coolly arose,\\ndisengaged himself from the ruins, tied a cord of hair\\nby way of bridle round the jaw of his buffalo-horse,\\nbroke a stout cudgel, about four feet long, from\\nthe butt-end of a lodge-pole, mounted, and galloped\\nmajestically over the prairie to discipline his offending\\nhelpmeet.\\nAs the sun rose next morningf we looked across the\\nmeadow, and could see the lodges levelled and the\\nIndians gathering together in preparation to leave\\nthe camp. Their course lay to the westward. We\\nturned towards the north with our three men, the four", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0227.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "200 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ntrappers following us, with tlie Indian family of\\nMorin. We travelled until night, and encamped\\namong some trees by the side of a little brook, where\\nduring the whole of the next day we lay waiting for\\nBisonette; but no Bisonette appeared. Here two of\\nour trapper friends left us, and set out for the Rocky\\nMountains. On the second morning, despairing of\\nBisonette s arrival, we resumed our journey, travers-\\ning a forlorn and dreary monotony of sun-scorched\\nplains, where no living thing appeared save here and\\nthere an antelope flying before us like the wind.\\nWhen noon came we saw an unwonted and welcome\\nsight; a fine growth of trees, marking the course of\\na little stream called Horseshoe Creek. They stood\\nwide asunder, spreading a thick canopy of leaves\\nabove a surface of rich, tall grass. The stream ran\\nswiftly, as clear as crystal, through the bosom of the\\nwood, sparkling over its bed of white sand, and\\ndarkening again as it entered a deep cavern of\\nfoliage. I was thoroughly exhausted, and flung my-\\nself on the ground, scarcely able to move.\\nIn the morning, as glorious a sun rose upon us as\\never animated that wilderness. We advanced, and\\nsoon were surrounded by tall bare hills, overspread\\nfrom top to bottom with prickly-pears and other\\ncacti, that seemed like clinging reptiles. A plain,\\nflat and hard, with scarcely the vestige of grass, lay\\nbefore us, and a line of tall misshapen trees bounded\\nthe onward view. There was no sight or sound of\\nman or beast, or any living thing, although behind", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0228.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "ILL-LUCK. 201\\nthose trees was the long-looked-for place of rendez-\\nvous, where we hoped to have found the Indians con-\\ngregated by thousands. We looked and listened\\nanxiously. We pushed forward with our best speed,\\nand forced our horses through the trees. There\\nwere copses of some extent beyond, with a scanty\\nstream creeping among them; and as we pressed\\nthrough the yielding branches, deer sprang up to the\\nright and left. At length we caught a glimpse of\\nthe prairie beyond, emerged upon it, and saw, not a\\nplain covered with encampments and swarming with\\nlife, but a vast unbroken desert stretching away\\nbefore us league upon league, without bush or tree,\\nor anything that had life. We drew rein and gave\\nto the winds our sentiments concerning the whole\\naboriginal race of America. Our journey was worse\\nthan vain. For myself, I was vexed beyond measure\\nas I well knew that a slight aggravation of my dis-\\norder would render this false step irrevocable, and\\nmake it impossible to accomplish effectually the\\nobject which had led me an arduous journey of\\nbetween three and four thousand miles.\\nAnd where were the Indians? They were mus-\\ntered in great numbers at a spot about twenty miles\\ndistant, where at that very moment they were dan-\\ncing their war dances. The scarcity of buffalo in the\\nvicinity of La Bontd s camp, which would render\\ntheir supply of j)rovisions scanty and precarious, had\\nprobably prevented them from assembling there but\\nof all this we knew nothing until some weeks after.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0229.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "202 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nSliaw lashed his horse and galloped forward. I,\\nthough much more vexed than he, was not strong\\nenough to adopt this convenient vent to my feelings\\nso I followed at a quiet pace. We rode up to a\\nsolitary old tree, which seemed the only place fit for\\nencampment. Half its branches were dead, and the\\nrest were so scantily furnished with leaves that they\\ncast but a meagre and wretched shade. We threw\\ndown our saddles in the strip of shadow cast by the\\nold twisted trunk, and sat down upon them. In\\nsilent indignation we remained smoking for an hour\\nor more, shifting our saddles with the shifting\\nshadow, for the sun was intolerably hot.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0230.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XIII.\\nHUNTING INDIANS.\\nAt last we had reached La Bontd s camp, towards\\nwhich our eyes had turned so long. Of all weary\\nhours, those that passed between noon and sunset of\\nthat day may bear away the palm of exquisite dis-\\ncomfort. I lay under the tree reflecting on what\\ncourse to pursue, watching the shadows which seemed\\nnever to move, and the sun which seemed fixed in\\nthe sky, and hoping every moment to see the men and\\nhorses of Bisonette emerging from the woods. Shaw\\nand Henry had ridden out on a scouting expedition,\\nand did not return till the sun was setting. There\\nwas nothing very cheering in their faces or in the\\nnews they brought.\\nWe have been ten miles from here, said Shaw.\\nWe climbed the highest butte we could find, and\\ncould not see a buffalo or an Indian; nothing but\\nprairie for twenty miles around us. Henry s horse\\nwas disabled by clambering up and down the sides of\\nravines, and Shaw s was greatly fatigued.\\nAfter supper that evening, as we sat around the\\nfire, I proposed to Shaw to wait one day longer, in\\nhopes of Bisonette s arrival, and if he should not\\ncome, to send Deslauriers with the cart and baggage", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0231.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "204 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nback to Fort Laramie, while we ourselves followed\\nThe Whirlwind s village, and attempted to overtake\\nit as it passed the mountains. Shaw, not having the\\nsame motive for hunting Indians that I had, was\\naverse to the plan I therefore resolved to go alone.\\nThis design I adopted very unwillingly, for I knew\\nthat in the present state of my health the attempt\\nwould be painful and hazardous. I hoped that\\nBisonette would appear in the course of the follow-\\ning day, and bring us some information by which\\nto direct our course, thus enabling me to accomplish\\nmy purpose by means less objectionable.\\nThe rifle of Henry Chatillon was necessary for the\\nsubsistence of the party in my absence; so I called\\nRaymond, and ordered him to prepare to set out\\nwith me. Raymond rolled his eyes vacantly about,\\nbut at length, having succeeded in grappling with\\nthe idea, he withdrew to his bed under the cart. He\\nwas a heavy-moulded fellow, with a broad face,\\nexpressing impenetrable stupidity and entire self-\\nconfidence. As for his good qualities, he had a sort\\nof stubborn fidelity, an insensibility to danger, and a\\nkind of instinct or sagacity, which sometimes led him\\nright where better heads than his were at a loss.\\nBesides this, he knew very well how to handle a\\nrifle and picket a horse.\\nThrough the following day the sun glared down\\nupon us with a pitiless, penetrating heat. The dis-\\ntant blue prairie seemed quivering under it. The\\nlodge of our Indian associates parched in the burning", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0232.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 206\\nrays, and our rifles, as they leaned against the tree,\\nwere too hot for the touch. There was a dead silence\\nthrough our camp, broken only by the hum of gnats\\nand mosquitoes. The men, resting their foreheads\\non their arms, were sleeping under the cart. The\\nIndians kept close within their lodge, except the\\nnewly-married pair, who were seated together under\\nan awning of buffalo-robes, and the old conjurer,\\nwho, with his hard, emaciated face and gaunt ribs,\\nwas perched aloft like a turkey-buzzard, among the\\ndead branches of an old tree, constantly on the look-\\nout for enemies. We dined, and then Shaw saddled\\nhis horse.\\nI will ride back, said he, to Horseshoe Creek,\\nand see if Bisonette is there.\\nI would go with you, I answered, but I must\\nreserve all the strength I have.\\nThe afternoon dragged away at last. I occupied\\nmyself in cleaning my rifle and pistols, and making\\nother preparations for the journey. It was late\\nbefore I wrapped myself in my blanket, and lay down\\nfor the night, with my head on my saddle. Shaw\\nhad not returned, but this gave us no uneasiness, for\\nwe supposed that he had fallen in with Bisonette,\\nand was spending the night with him. For a day or\\ntwo past I had gained in strength and health, but\\nabout midnight an attack of pain awoke me, and for\\nsome hours I could not sleep. The moon was quiv-\\nering on the broad breast of the Platte; nothing\\ncould be heard except those low inexplicable sounds,", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0233.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "206 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nlike ^vl^spe^i^gs and footsteps, which no one who has\\nspent the night alone amid deserts and forests will\\nbe at a loss to understand. As I was falling asleep,\\na familiar voice, shouting from the distance, awoke\\nme again. A rapid step approached the camp, and\\nShaw, on foot, with his gun in his hand, hastily-\\nentered.\\nWhere s your horse said I, raising myself on\\nmy elbow.\\nLost! said Shaw. Where s Deslauriers\\nThere, I replied, pointing to a confused mass of\\nblankets and buffalo-robes.\\nShaw touched them with the butt of his gun, and\\nup sprang our faithful Canadian.\\nCome, Deslauriers; stir up the fire, and get me\\nsomething to eat.\\nWhere s Bisonette asked I.\\nThe Lord knows there s nobody at Horseshoe\\nCreek.\\nShaw had gone back to the spot where we had\\nencamped two days before, and finding nothing there\\nbut the ashes of our fires, he had tied his horse to\\nthe tree while he bathed in the stream. Something\\nstartled his horse, which broke loose, and for two\\nhours Shaw tried in vain to catch him. Sunset\\napproached, and it was twelve miles to camp. So\\nhe abandoned the attempt, and set out on foot to\\njoin us. The greater part of his perilous and solitary\\nwalk was in darkness. His moccasons were worn to\\ntatters and his feet severely lacerated. He sat down", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0234.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 207\\nto eat, however, the usual equanimity of his temper\\nnot at all disturbed, by his misfortune, and my last\\nrecollection before falling asleep was of Shaw, seated\\ncross-legged before the fire, smoking his pipe.\\nWhen I awoke again there was a fresh damp smell\\nin the air, a gray twilight involved the prairie, and\\nabove its eastern verge was a streak of cold red sky.\\nI called to the men, and in a moment a fire was\\nblazing brightly in the dim morning light, and break-\\nfast was getting ready. We sat down together on\\nthe grass, to the last civilized meal which Raymond\\nand I were destined to enjoy for some time.\\nNow bring in the horses.\\nMy little mare Pauline was soon standing by the\\nfire. She was a fleet, hardy, and gentle animal,\\nchristened after Paul Dorion, from whom I had pro-\\ncured her in exchange for Pontiac. She did not\\nlook as if equipped for a morning pleasure-ride. In\\nfront of the black, high-bowed mountain-saddle were\\nfastened holsters, with heavy pistols. A pair of\\nsaddle-bags, a blanket tightly rolled, a small parcel\\nof Indian presents tied up in a buffalo-skin, a leather\\nbag of flour, and a smaller one of tea, were all secured\\nbehind, and a long ti-ail-rope was wound round her\\nneck. Raymond had a strong black mule, equipped\\nin a similar manner. We crammed our powder-horns\\nto the throat, and mounted.\\nI will meet you at Fort Laramie on the first of\\nAugust, said I to Shaw.\\nThat is, he replied, if we don t meet before", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0235.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "208 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthat. I think I shall follow after you in a day\\nor two.\\nThis in fact he attempted, and would have suc-\\nceeded if he had not encountered obstacles against\\nwhich his resolute spirit was of no avail. Two days\\nafter I left him he sent Deslauriers to the fort with\\nthe cart and baggage, and set out for the mountains\\nwith Henry Chatillon; but a tremendous thunder-\\nstorm had deluged the prairie, and nearly obliterated\\nnot only our trail but that of the Indians themselves.\\nThey encamped at the base of the mountains, at a\\nloss in what direction to go. In the morning Shaw\\nfound himself poisoned by the plant known as\\npoison ivy, in such a manner that it was impossible\\nfor him to travel. So they turned back reluctantly\\ntowards Fort Laramie. Shaw lay seriously ill for a\\nweek, and remained at the fort till I rejoined him\\nsome time after.\\nTo return to my own story. Raymond and I shook\\nhands with our friends, rode out upon the prairie,\\nand, clambering the sandy hollows channelled in the\\nsides of the hills, gained the high plains above. If\\na curse had been pronounced upon the land, it could\\nnot have worn an aspect more forlorn. There were\\nabrupt broken hills, deep hollows, and wide plains;\\nbut all alike glared with an insupportable whiteness\\nunder the burning sun. The country, as if parched\\nby the heat, was cracked into innumerable fissures\\nand ravines, tiiat not a little impeded our progress.\\nTheir steep sides were white and raw, and along the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0236.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 209\\nbottom we several times discovered the broad tracks\\nof the grizzly bear, nowhere more abundant than in\\nthis region. The ridges of the hills were hard as\\nrock, and strewn with pebbles of flint and coarse red\\njasper; looking from them, there was nothing to\\nrelieve the desert nniformity, save here and there a\\npine-tree clinging at the edge of a ravine, and stretch-\\ning its rough, shaggy arms into the scorching air.\\nIts resinous odors recalled the pine-clad mountains of\\nNew England, and, goaded as I was with a morbid\\nthirst, I thought with a longing desire on the crystal\\ntreasure poured in such wasteful profusion from our\\nthousand hills. I heard, in fancy, the plunging and\\ngurgling of waters among the shaded rocks, and saw\\nthem gleaming dark and still far down amid the\\ncrevices, the cold drops trickling from the long green\\nmosses.\\nWhen noon came we found a little stream, with\\na few trees and bushes and here we rested for an\\nhour. Then we travelled on, guided by the sun,\\nuntil, just before sunset, we reached another stream,\\ncalled Bitter Cotton-wood Creek. A thick growth of\\nbushes and old storm-beaten trees grew at intervals\\nalong its bank. Near the foot of one of the trees we\\nflung down our saddles, and hobbling our horses,\\nturned them loose to feed. The little stream was\\nclear and swift, and ran musically over its white\\nsands. Small water-birds were splashing in the\\nshallows, and filling the air with cries and flutter-\\nings. The sun was just sinking among gold and\\n14", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0237.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "210 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ncrimson clouds behind Mount Laramie. I lay upon\\na log by the margin of the water, and watched the\\nrestless motions of the little fish in a deep, still nook\\nbelow. Strange to say, I seemed to have gained\\nstrength since the morning, and almost felt a sense\\nof returning health.\\nWe built our fire. Night came, and the wolves\\nbegan to howl. One deep voice began, answered in\\nawful responses from hills, plains, and woods. Such\\nsounds do not disturb one s sleep upon the prairie.\\nWe picketed the mare and the mule, and did not\\nawake until daylight. Then we turned them loose,\\nstill hobbled, to feed for an hour before starting.\\nWe were getting ready our breakfast when Raymond\\nsaw an antelope half a mile distant and said he would\\ngo and shoot it.\\nYour business, said I, is to look after the\\nanimals. I am too weak to do much, if anything\\nhappens to them, and you must keep within sight of\\nthe camp.\\nRaymond promised, and set out with his rifle in\\nhis hand. The mare and the mule had crossed the\\nstream, and were feeding among the long grass on\\nthe other side, much tormented by the attacks of\\nlarge green-headed flies. As I watched them, I saw\\nthem go down into a hollow, and as several minutes\\nelapsed without their reappearing, I waded through\\nthe stream to look after them. To my vexation and\\nalarm I discovered them at a great distance, galloping\\naway at full speed, Pauline in advance, with her", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0238.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 211\\nhobbles broken, and the mule, still fettered, follow-\\ning with awkward leaps. I fired my rifle and shouted\\nto recall Rajnnond. In a moment he came running\\nthrough the stream, with a red handkerchief bound\\nround his head. I pointed to the fugitives, and\\nordered him to pursue them. Muttering a Sacr^\\nbetween his teeth, he set out at full speed, still\\nswinging his rifle in his hand. I walked up to the\\ntop of a hill, and, looking away over the prairie,\\ncould distinguish the runaways, still at full gallop.\\nReturning to the fire, I sat down at the foot of a\\ntree. Wearily and anxiously hour after hour passed\\naway. The loose bark dangling from the trunk\\nbehind me flapped to and fro in the wind, and the\\nmosquitoes kept up their drowsy hum; but other\\nthan this there was no sight nor sound of life through-\\nout the burning landscape. The sun rose higher and\\nhigher, until I knew that it must be noon. It seemed\\nscarcely possible that the animals could be recovered.\\nIf they were not, my situation was one of serious\\ndifficulty. Shaw, when I left him, had decided to\\nmove that morning, but whither he had not deter-\\nmined. To look for him would be a vain attempt.\\nFort Laramie was forty miles distant, and I could not\\nwalk a mile without great effort. Not then having\\nlearned the philosophy of yielding to disproportionate\\nobstacles, I resolved, come what would, to continue\\nthe pursuit of the Indians. Only one plan occurred\\nto me; this was, to send Raymond to the fort with\\nan order for more horses, while I remained on the", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0239.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "212 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nspot, awaiting his return, whicli might take place\\nwithin three daj-s. But to remain stationary and\\nalone for three clays, in a country full of dangerous\\nIndians, was not the most flattering of prospects;\\nand, protracted as my Indian hunt must be by such\\ndelay, it was not easy to foretell its result. Revolv-\\ning these matters, I grew hungry and as our stock\\nof provisions, except four or five pounds of flour,\\nwas by this time exhausted, I left the camp to see\\nwhat game I could find. Nothing could be seen\\nexcept four or five large curlews wheeling over my\\nhead, and now and then alighting upon the prairie.\\nI shot two of them, and was about returning, when\\na startling sight caught my eye. A small, dark\\nobject, like a human head, suddenly appeared, and\\nvanished among the thick bushes along the stream\\nbelow. In that country every stranger is a suspected\\nenemy and I threw forward the muzzle of my rifle.\\nIn a moment the bushes were violently shaken, two\\nheads, but not human heads, protruded, and to my\\ngreat joy I recognized the downcast, disconsolate\\ncountenance of the black mule and the yellow visage\\nof Pauline. Raymond came upon the mule, pale and\\nhaggard, complaining of a fiery pain in his chest. I\\ntook charge of the animals while he kneeled down\\nby the side of the stream to drink. He had kept the\\nrunaways in sight as far as the Side Fork of Laramie\\nCreek, a distance of more than ten miles and here\\nwith great difficulty he had succeeded in catching\\nthem. I saw that he was unarmed, and asked him", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0240.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 213\\nwhat lie had done with his rifle. It had encumbered\\nhim in his pursuit, and he had dropped it on the\\nprairie, thinking that he could find it on his return;\\nbut in this he had failed. The loss might prove a\\nvery serious one. I was too much rejoiced, however,\\nat the recovery of the animals, and at the fidelity of\\nRaymond, wh6 might easily have deserted with them,\\nto think much about it; and having made some tea\\nfor him in a tin vessel which we had brought with\\nus, I told him that I would give him two hours for\\nresting before we set out again. He had eaten noth-\\ning that day; but having no appetite, he lay down\\nimmediately to sleep. I picketed the animals among\\nthe best grass that I could find, and made fires of\\ngreen wood to protect them from the flies then sit-\\nting down again by the tree, I watched the slow\\nmovements of the sun, grudging every moment that\\npassed.\\nThe time I had mentioned expired, and I awoke\\nRaymond. We saddled and set out again, but first\\nwe went in search of the lost rifle, and in the course\\nof an hour were fortunate enough to find it. Then\\nwe turned westward, and moved over the hills and\\nhollows at a slow pace towards the Black Hills. The\\nheat no longer tormented us, for a cloud was before\\nthe sun. The air grew fresh and cool, the distant\\nmountains frowned more gloomily, there was a low\\nmuttering of thunder, and dense black masses of\\ncloud rose heavily behind the broken peaks. At first\\nthey were fringed with silver by the afternoon sun;", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0241.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "214 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbut soon thick blackness overspread the sky, and the\\ndesert around us was wrapped in gloom. There was\\nan awful sublimity in the hoarse murmuring of the\\nthunder, and the sombre shadows that involved the\\nmountains and the plain. The storm broke with a\\nzigzag blinding flash, a terrific crash of thunder, and\\na hurricane that howled over the prairie, dashing\\nfloods of water against us. Raymond looked about\\nhim- and cursed the merciless elements. There\\nseemed no shelter near, but we discerned at length a\\ndeep ravine gashed in the level prairie, and saw half-\\nway down its side an old pine-tree, whose rough\\nhorizontal boughs formed a sort of pent-house against\\nthe tempest. We found a practicable passage, led\\nour animals down, and fastened them to large loose\\nstones at the bottom then climbing up, we drew our\\nblankets over our heads, and crouched close beneath\\nthe old tree. Perhaps I was no competent judge of\\ntime, but it seemed to me that we were sitting there\\na full hour, while around us poured a deluge of rain,\\nthrough which the rocks on the opposite side of the\\ngulf were barely visible. The first burst of the tempest\\nsoon subsided, but the rain poured in steady torrents.\\nAt length Raymond grew impatient, and scrambling\\nout of the ravine, gained the level prairie above.\\nWhat does the weather look like? asked I,\\nfrom my seat under the tree.\\nIt looks bad, he answered: dark all round;\\nand again he descended and sat down by my side.\\nSome ten minutes elapsed.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0242.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 215\\nGo up again, said I, and take another look;\\nand he clambered up the precipice. Well, how\\nis it?\\nJust the same, only I see one little bright spot\\nover the top of the mountain.\\nThe rain by this time had begun to abate; and\\ngoing down to the bottom of the ravine, we loosened\\nthe animals, who were standing up to their knees in\\nwater. Leading them up the rocky throat of the\\nravine, we reached the plain above. All around us\\nwas obscurity but the bright spot above the moun-\\ntains grew wider and ruddier, until at length the\\nclouds drew apart, and a flood of sunbeams poured\\ndown, streaming along the precipices, and involving\\nthem in a thin blue haze, as soft as that which wraps\\nthe Apennines on an evening in spring. Rapidly the\\nclouds were broken and scattered, like routed legions\\nof evil spirits. The plain lay basking in sunbeams\\naround us; a rainbow arched the desert from north\\nto south, and far in front a line of woods seemed\\ninviting us to refreshment and repose. When we\\nreached them, they were glistening with prismatic\\ndewdrops, and enlivened by the songs and flutter-\\nings of birds. Strange winged insects, benumbed by\\nthe rain, were chnging to the leaves and the bark of\\nthe trees.\\nRaymond kindled a fire with great difficulty. The\\nanimals turned eagerly to feed on the soft rich grass,\\nwhile I, wrapping myself in my blanket, lay down\\nand gazed on the evening landscape. The moun-", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0243.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "216 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ntains, whose stern features had frowned upon us so\\ngloomily, seemed lighted up with a benignant smile,\\nand the green waving undulations of the plain were\\ngladdened with warm sunshine. Wet, ill, and\\nwearied as I was, my heart grew lighter at the view,\\nand I drew from it an augury of good.\\nWhen morning came, Raymond awoke, coughing\\nviolently, though I had aj)parently received no injury.\\nWe mounted, crossed the little stream, pushed\\nthrough the trees, and began our journey over the\\nplain beyond. And now, as we rode slowly along,\\nwe looked anxiously on every hand for traces of the\\nIndians, not doubting that the village had passed\\nsomewhere in that vicinity; but the scanty shrivelled\\ngrass was not more than three or four inches high,\\nand the ground was so hard that a host might have\\nmarched over it and left scarcely a trace of its pas-\\nsage. Up hill and down hill, and clambering through\\nravines, we continued our journey. As we were\\npassing the foot of a hill, I saw Raymond, who was\\nsome rods in advance, suddenly jerk the reins of his\\nmule, slide from his seat, and run in a crouching\\nposture up a hollow then in an instant I heard the\\nsharp crack of his rifle. A wounded antelope came\\nrunning on three legs over the hill. I lashed Pauline\\nand made after him. My fleet little mare soon\\nbrought me by his side, and, after leaping and bound-\\ning for a few moments in vain, he stood still, as if\\ndespairing of escape. His glistening eyes turned up\\ntowards my face with so piteous a look that it was", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0244.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 217\\nwith feelings of infinite compunction that I shot him\\nthrough the head with a pistoL Rajanond skinned\\nand cut him up, and we hung the fore-quarters to\\nour saddles, much rejoiced that our exhausted stock\\nof provisions was renewed in such good time.\\nGaining the top of a hill, we could see along the\\ncloudy verge of the prairie before us the lines of\\ntrees and shadowy groves, that marked the course of\\nLaramie Creek. Before noon we reached its banks,\\nand began anxiously to search them for footprints of\\nthe Indians. We followed the stream for several\\nmiles, now on the shore and now wading in the\\nwater, scrutinizing every sand-bar and every muddy\\nbank. So long was the search that we began to fear\\nthat we had left the trail undiscovered behind us.\\nAt length I heard Raymond shouting, and saw him\\njump from his mule to examine some object under\\nthe shelving bank. I rode up to his side. It was\\nthe impression of an Indian moccason. Encouraged\\nby this, we continued our search till at last some\\nappearances on a soft surface of earth not far from\\nthe shore attracted my eye; and going to examine\\nthem, I found half a dozen tracks, some made by\\nmen and some by children. Just then Raymond\\nobserved across the stream the mouth of a brook,\\nentering it from the south. He forded the water,\\nrode in at the opening, and in a moment I heard him\\nshouting again; so I passed over and joined him.\\nThe brook had a broad sandy bed, along which the\\nwater trickled in a scanty stream and on either bank", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0245.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "218 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe bushes were so close that the view was completely\\nintercepted. I found Raymond stooping over the\\nfootprints of three or four horses. Proceeding, we\\nfound those of a man, then those of a child, then\\nthose of more horses till at last the bushes on each\\nbank were beaten down and broken, and the sand\\nploughed up with a multitude of footsteps, and scored\\nacross with the furrows made by the lodge-poles that\\nhad been dragged through. It was now certain that\\nwe had found the trail. I pushed through the\\nbushes, and at a little distance on the prairie beyond\\nfound the ashes of a hundred and fifty lodge-fires,\\nwith bones and pieces of buffalo-robes scattered about,\\nand the pickets to which horses had been tied, still\\nstanding in the ground. Elated by our success, we\\nselected a convenient tree, and, turning the animals\\nloose, prepared to make a meal from the haunch of\\nthe antelope.\\nHardship and exposure had thriven with me won-\\nderfully. I had gained both health and strength\\nsince leaving La Bontd s camp. Raymond and I\\ndined together, in high spirits; for we rashly pre-\\nsumed that having found one end of the trail we\\nshould have little difficulty in reaching the other.\\nBut when the animals were led in, we found that our\\nill-luck had not ceased to follow us. As I was sad-\\ndling Pauline, I saw that her eye was dull as lead,\\nand the hue of her yellow coat visibly darkened. I\\nplaced my foot in the stirrup to mount, when she\\nstaggered and fell Hat on her side. Gaining her feet", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0246.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 219\\nwith an effort, she stood by the fire with a drooping\\nhead. Whether she had been bitten by a snake, or\\npoisoned by some noxious plant, or attacked by a\\nsudden disorder, it was hard to say but at all events,\\nher sickness was suflicientl}^ ill-timed and unfortu-\\nnate. I succeeded in a second attempt to mount her,\\nand with a slow pace we moved forward on the trail\\nof the Indians. It led us up a hill and over a dreary\\nplain; and here, to our great mortification, the\\ntraces almost disappeared, for the ground was hard\\nas adamant and if its flinty surface had ever retained\\nthe dent of a hoof, the marks had been washed away\\nby the deluge of yesterday. An Indian village, in\\nits disorderly march, is scattered over the prairie\\noften to the width of half a mile so that its trail is\\nnowhere clearly marked, and the task of following it\\nis made doubly wearisome and difficult. By good\\nfortune, many large ant-hills, a yard or more in\\ndiameter, were scattered over the plain, and these\\nwere frequently broken by the footprints of men and\\nhorses, and marked by traces of the lodge-poles.\\nThe succulent leaves of the prickly-pear, bruised\\nfrom the same causes, also helped to guide us; so,\\ninch by inch, we moved along. Often we lost the\\ntrail altogether, and then found it again but late in\\nthe afternoon we were totall} at fault. We stood\\nalone, without a clew to guide us. The broken plain\\nexpanded for league after league around us, and in\\nfront the long dark ridge of mountains stretched from\\nnorth to south. Mount Laramie, a little on our", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0247.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "220 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nright, towered high above the rest, and from a dark\\nvalley just beyond one of its lower declivities, we dis-\\ncerned volumes of white smoke rising slowly.\\nI think, said Raymond, some Indians must be\\nthere. Perhaps we had better go. But this plan\\nwas not lightly to be adopted, and we determined\\nstill to continue our search after the lost trail. Our\\ngood stars prompted us to this decision, for we after-\\nward had reason to believe, from information given\\nus by the Indians, that the smoke was raised as a\\ndecoy by a Crow war-party.\\nEvening was coming on, and there was no wood\\nor water nearer than the foot of the mountains. So\\nthither we turned, directing our course towards the\\npoint where Laramie Creek issues upon the prairie.\\nWhen we reached it, the bare tops of the mountains\\nwere still bright with sunshine. The little river was\\nbreaking, with an angry current, from its dark prison.\\nThere was something in the close vicinity of the\\nmountains and the loud surging of the rapids, won-\\nderfully cheering and exhilarating. There was a\\ngrass-plot by the river-bank, surrounded by low\\nridges, which would effectually screen us and our fire\\nfrom the sight of wandering Indians. Here, among\\nthe grass, I observed numerous circles of large stones,\\ntraces of a Dahcotah winter encampment. We lay\\ndown, and did not awake till the sun was up. A\\nlarge rock projected from the shore, and behind it\\nthe deep water was slowly eddying round and round.\\nThe temptation was irresistible. I threw off my", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0248.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 221\\nclothes, leaped in, suffered myself to be borne once\\nround with the current, and then, seizing the strong\\nroot of a water-plant, drew myself to the shore. The\\neffect was so refreshing that I mistook it for return-\\ning health. But scarcely were we mounted and on\\nour way, before the momentary glow passed. Again\\nI hung as usual in my seat, scarcely able to hold\\nmyself erect.\\nLook yonder, said Raymond; you see that big\\nhollow there the Indians must have gone that way,\\nif they went anywhere about here.\\nWe reached the gap, which was like a deep notch\\ncut into the mountain-ridge, and here we soon found\\nan ant-hill furrowed with the mark of a lodge-pole.\\nThis was quite enough; there could be no doubt\\nnow. As we rode on, the opening growing narrower,\\nthe Indians had been compelled to march in closer\\norder, and the traces became numerous and distinct.\\nThe gap terminated in a rocky gateway, leading into\\na rough and steep defile, between two precipitous\\nmountains. Here grass and weeds were bruised to\\nfragments by the throng that had passed through.\\nWe moved slowly over the rocks, up the passage;\\nand in this toilsome manner advanced for an hour or\\ntwo, bare precipices, hundreds of feet high, shooting\\nup on either hand. Raymond, with his hardy mule,\\nwas a few rods before me, when we came to the foot\\nof an ascent steeper than the rest, and which I trusted\\nmight prove the highest point of the defile. Pauline\\nstrained upward for a few yards, moaning and stum-", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0249.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "222 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbliiig, and tlien came to a dead stop, unable to pro-\\nceed further. I dismounted, and attempted to lead\\nher; but my own exhausted strength soon gave out;\\nso I loosened the trail -rope from her neck, and tying\\nit round my arm, crawled up on my hands and knees.\\nI gained the top, totally spent, the sweat-drops trick-\\nling from my forehead. Pauline stood like a statue\\nby my side, her shadow falling upon the scorching\\nrock; and in this shade, for there was no other, I lay\\nfor some time, scarcely able to move a limb. All\\naround, the black crags, sharp as needles at the top,\\nstood baking in the sun, without tree or bush or\\nblade of grass to cover their nakedness. The whole\\nscene seemed parched with a pitiless, insufferable\\nheat.\\nAfter a while I could mount again, and we moved\\non, descending the defile on its western side. There\\nwas something ridiculous in the situation. Man and\\nhorse were helpless alike. Pauline and I could neither\\nfight nor run.\\nRaymond s saddle-girth slipped; and while I pro-\\nceeded he stopped to repair the mischief. I came to\\nthe top of a little declivity, where a welcome sight\\ngreeted my eye a nook of fresh green grass nestled\\namong the cliffs, sunny clumps of bushes on one\\nside, and shaggy old pine-trees leaning from the\\nrocks on the other. A shrill, familiar voice saluted\\nme, and recalled me to days of boyhood that of the\\ninsect called the locust by New England school-\\nboys, which was clinging among the heated boughs", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0250.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 223\\nof the old pine-trees. Then, too, as I passed the\\nbushes, the low sound of falling water reached my\\near. Pauline turned of her own accord, and pushing\\nthrough the boughs, we found a black rock, over-\\narched by the cool green canopy. An icy stream\\nwas pouring from its side into a wide basin of white\\nsand, whence it had no visible outlet, but filtered\\nthrough into the soil below. While I filled a tin\\ncup at the spring, Pauline was eagerly plunging her\\nhead deep in the pool. Other visitors had been\\nthere before us. All around in the soft soil were\\nthe footprints of elk, deer, and the Rocky-Moun-\\ntain sheep; and the grizzly bear too had left the\\nrecent prints of his broad foot, with its frightful\\narray of claws. Among these mountains was his\\nhome.\\nSoon after leaving the spring we found a little\\ngrassy plain, encircled by the mountains, and marked,\\nto our great joy, with all the traces of an Indian\\ncamp. Raymond s practised eye detected certain\\nsigns, by which he recognized the spot where Reynal s\\nlodge had been pitched and his horses picketed. I\\napproached, and stood looking at the place. Reynal\\nand I had, I believe, hardly a feeling in common, and\\nit perplexed me a good deal to understand why I\\nshould look with so much interest on the ashes of his\\nfire, when between him and me there was no other\\nbond of sympathy than the slender and precarious\\none of a kindred race.\\nIn half an hour from this we were free of the", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0251.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "224 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmountains. There was a plain before us, totally\\nbarren and thickly peopled in many parts with prairie-\\ndogs, who sat at the mouths of their burrows, and\\nyelped at us as we passed. The plain, as we thought,\\nwas about six miles wide but it cost us two hours\\nto cross it. Then another mountain-range rose before\\nus. From the dense bushes that clothed the steeps\\nfor a thousand feet shot up black crags, all leaning\\none way, and shattered by storms and thunder into\\ngrim and threatening shapes. As we entered a nar-\\nrow passage on the trail of the Indians, they impended\\nfrightfully above our heads.\\nOur course was through thick woods, in the shade\\nand sunlight of overhanging boughs. As we wound\\nfrom side to side of the passage, to avoid its obstruc-\\ntions, we could see at intervals, through the foliage,\\nthe awful forms of the gigantic cliffs, that seemed to\\nhem us in on the right and on the left, before and\\nbehind.\\nIn an open space, fenced in by high rocks, stood\\ntwo Indian forts, of a square form, rudely built of\\nsticks and logs. They were somewhat ruinous, hav-\\ning probably been constructed the year before. Each\\nmight have contained about twenty men. Perhaps\\nin this gloomy spot some party had been beset by\\nenemies, and those scowling rocks and blasted trees\\nmight not long since have looked down on a conflict,\\nunchronicled and unknown. Yet if any traces of\\nbloodshed remained they were hidden by the bushes\\nand tall rank weeds.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0252.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 225\\nGradually the mountains drew apart, and the pas-\\nsage expanded into a plain, where again we found\\ntraces of an Indian encampment. There were trees\\nand bushes just before us, and we stopped here for\\nan hour s rest and refreshment. When we had\\nfinished our meal, Raymond struck fire, and, lighting\\nhis pipe, sat down at the foot of a tree to smoke.\\nFor some time I observed him puffing away with a\\nface of unusual solemnity. Then slowly taking the\\npipe from his lips, he looked up and remarked that\\nwe had better not go any farther.\\nWhy not? asked I.\\nHe said that the country was become very danger-\\nous, that we were entering the range of the Snakes,\\nArapahoes, and Gros-Ventre Blackfeet, and that if\\nany of their wandering parties should meet us, it\\nwould cost us our lives; but he added with blunt\\nfidelity that he would go anywhere I wished. I told\\nhim to bring up the animals, and mounting them we\\nproceeded again. I confess that, as we moved for-\\nward, the prospect seemed but a doubtful one. I\\nwould have given the world for my ordinary elasticity\\nof body and mind, and for a horse of such strength\\nand spirit as the journey required.\\nCloser and closer the rocks gathered round us,\\ngrowing taller and steeper, and pressing more and\\nmore upon our path. We entered at length a defile\\nwhich, in its way, I never have seen rivalled. The\\nmountain was cracked from top to bottom, and we\\nwere creeping along the bottom of the fissure, in\\n15", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0253.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "226 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ndampness and gloom, with the clink of hoofs on the\\nloose shingly rocks, and the hoarse murmuring of a\\npetulant brook which kept us company. Sometimes\\nthe water, foaming among the stones, overspread the\\nwhole narrow passage; sometimes, withdrawing to\\none side, it gave us room to pass dry-shod. Looking\\nup, we could see a narrow ribbon of bright blue sky\\nbetween the dark edges of the opposing cliffs. This\\ndid not last long. The passage soon widened, and\\nsunbeams found their way down, flashing upon the\\nblack waters. The defile would spread to many rods\\nin width bushes, trees, and flowers would spring by\\nthe side of the brook; the cliffs would be feathered\\nwith shrubbery, that clung in eveiy crevice, and\\nfringed with trees, that grew along their sunny edges.\\nThen we would be moving again in darkness. The\\npassage seemed about four miles long, and before we\\nreached the end of it, the unshod hoofs of our animals\\nwere broken, and their legs cut by the sharp stones.\\nIssuing from the mountain we found another plain.\\nAll around it stood a circle of precipices, that\\nseemed the impersonation of Silence and Solitude.\\nHere again the Indians had encamped, as well they\\nmight, after passing with their women, children,\\nand horses, through the gulf behind us. In one\\nday we had made a journey which it had cost them\\nthree to accomplish.\\nThe only outlet to this amphitheatre lay over a\\nhill some two hundred feet high, up which we moved\\nwith difficulty. Looking from the top, we saw that", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0254.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 227\\nat last we were free of the mountains. The prairie\\nspread before us, but so wikl and broken that the\\nview was everywhere obstructed. Far on our left\\none tall hill swelled up against the sky, on the\\nsmooth, pale -green surface of which four slowly mov-\\ning black specks were discernible. They were evi-\\ndently buffalo, and we hailed the sight as a good\\naugury for where the buffalo were, there the Indians\\nwould probably be found. We hoped on that very\\nnight to reach the village. We were anxious to do\\nso for a double reason, wishing to bring our journey\\nto an end, and knowing moreover that though to\\nenter the village in broad daylight would be perfectly\\nsafe, yet to encamp in its vicinity would be danger-\\nous. But as we rode on, the sun was sinking, and\\nsoon was within half an hour of the horizon. We\\nascended a hill, and looked about us for a spot for\\nour encampment. The prairie was like a turbulent\\nocean, suddenly congealed when its waves were at\\nthe highest, and it lay half in light and half in\\nshadow, as the rich sunshine, yellow as gold, was\\npouring over it. The rough bushes of the wild sage\\nwere growing everywhere, its dull pale-green over-\\nspreading hill and hollow. Yet a little way before\\nus, a bright verdant line of grass was winding along\\nthe plain, and here and there throughout its course\\nglistened pools of water. We went down to it,\\nkindled a fu-e, and turned our horses loose to feed.\\nIt was a little trickling brook, that for some yards\\non either side turned the barren prairie into fertility,", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0255.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "228 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand here and there it spread into deep pools, where\\nthe beavers had dammed it up.\\nWe placed our last remaining piece of antelope\\nbefore a scanty fire, mournfully reflecting on our\\nexhausted stock of provisions. Just then a large\\ngray hare, peculiar to these prairies, came jumping\\nalong, and seated himself within fifty yards to look\\nat us. I thoughtlessly raised my rifle to shoot him,\\nbut Raymond called out to me not to fire for fear the\\nreport should reach the ears of the Indians. That\\nnight for the first time we considered that the danger\\nto which we were exposed was of a somewhat serious\\ncharacter; and to those who are unacquainted with\\nIndians, it may seem strange that our chief appre-\\nhensions arose from the supposed proximity of the\\npeople whom we intended to visit. Had any strag-\\ngling party of these faithful friends caught sight of\\nus from the hill-top, they would probably have\\nreturned in the night to plunder us of our horses,\\nand perhaps of our scalps. But the prairie is un-\\nfavorable to nervousness and I presume that neither\\nRaymond nor I thought twice of the matter that\\nevening.\\nFor eight hours pillowed on our saddles, we lay\\ninsensible as logs. Pauline s yellow head was stretched\\nover me when I awoke. I rose and examined her.\\nHer feet were bruised and swollen by the accidents\\nof yesterday, but her eye was brighter, her motions\\nlivelier, and her mysterious malady had visibly\\nabated. We moved on, hoping within an hour to", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0256.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 229\\ncome in sight of the Indian viUage but again disap-\\npointment awaited us. The trail disappeared upon\\na hard and stony plain. Raymond and I rode from\\nside to side, scrutinizing every yard of ground, until\\nat length I found traces of the lodge-poles, by the\\nside of a ridge of rocks. We began again to follow\\nthem.\\nWhat is that black spot out there on the\\nprairie?\\nIt looks like a dead buffalo, answered Ray-\\nmond.\\nWe rode to it, and found it to be the huge carcass\\nof a bull killed by the hunters as they had passed.\\nTangled hair and scraps of hide were scattered on\\nall sides, for the wolves had made merry over it, and\\nhollowed out the entire carcass. It was covered with\\nmyriads of large black crickets, and from its appear-\\nance must have lain there four or five days. The\\nsight was a disheartening one, and I observed to Ray-\\nmond that the Indians might still be fifty or sixty miles\\noff. But he shook his head, and replied that they\\ndared not go so far for fear of their enemies, the\\nSnakes.\\nSoon after this we lost the trail again, and ascended\\na neighboring ridge, totally at a loss. Before us lay\\na plain perfectly flat, spreading on the right and left,\\nwithout apparent limit, and bounded in front by a\\nlong broken line of hills, ten or twelve miles distant.\\nAll was open and exposed to view, yet not a buffalo\\nnor an Indian was visible.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0257.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "230 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nDo you see that? said Raymond: now we had\\nbetter turn round.\\nBut as Raymond s bourgeois thought otherwise, we\\ndescended the hill and began to cross the plain. We\\nhad come so far that neither Pauline s limbs nor my\\nown could carry me back to Fort Laramie. I con-\\nsidered that the lines of expediency and inclination\\ntallied exactly, and that the most prudent course was\\nto keep forward. The ground immediately around\\nus was thickly strewn with the skulls and bones of\\nbuffalo, for here a year or two before the Indians had\\nmade a surround; yet no living game was in sight.\\nAt length an antelope sprang up and gazed at us.\\nWe fired together, and both missed, although the\\nanimal stood, a fair mark, within eighty yards. This\\nill-success might perhaps be charged to our own\\neagerness, for by this time we had no provisions left\\nexcept a little flour. We could see several pools of\\nwater, glistening in the distance. As we approached,\\nwolves and antelopes bounded away through the tall\\ngrass around them, and flocks of large white plover\\nflew screaming over their surface. Having failed of\\nthe antelope, Raymond tried his hand at the birds,\\nwith the same ill-success. The water also disap-\\npointed us. Its margin was so mired by the crowd\\nof buffalo that our timorous animals were afraid to\\napproach. So we turned away and moved towards\\nthe hills. The rank grass, where it was not\\ntrampled down by the buffalo, fairly swept our\\nhorses necks.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0258.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "HUNTING INDIANS. 231\\nAgain we foiiud tlie same execrable barren prairie\\noffering no clew by which, to guide our way. As we\\ndrew near the hills, an opening appeared, through\\nwhich the Indians must have gone if they had passed\\nthat way at all. Slowly we began to ascend it. I\\nfelt the most dreary forebodings of ill-success, when\\non looking round I could discover neither dent of\\nhoof, nor footprint, nor trace of lodge-pole, though\\nthe passage was encumbered by the skulls of buffalo.\\nWe heard thunder muttering; another storm was\\ncoming on.\\nAs we gained the top of the gap, the prospect\\nbeyond began to disclose itself. First, we saw a\\nlong dark line of ragged clouds upon the horizon,\\nwhile above them rose the peaks of the Medicine Bow\\nrange, the vanguard of the Rocky Mountains; then\\nlittle by little the plain came into view, a vast green\\nuniformity, forlorn and tenantless, though Laramie\\nCreek glistened in a waving line over its surface,\\nwithout a bush or a tree upon its banks. As yet,\\nthe round projecting shoulder of a hill intercepted a\\npart of the view. I rode in advance, when suddenly\\nI could distinguish a few dark spots on the prairie,\\nalong the bank of the stream.\\nBuffalo! said I.\\nHorses, by God exclaimed Raymond, lashing\\nhis mule forward as he spoke. More and more of\\nthe plain disclosed itself, and more and more horses\\nappeared, scattered along the river-bank, or feeding\\nin bands over the prairie. Then, standing in a circle", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0259.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "232 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nby the stream, swarming with their savage inhab-\\nitants, we saw, a mile or more oil the tall lodges of\\nthe Ogillallah. Never did the heart of wanderer\\nmore gladden at the sight of home than did mine at\\nthe sight of that Indian camp.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0260.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XIV.\\nTHE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE.\\nThis is hardly the place for portraying the mental\\nfeatures of the Indians. The same picture, slightly\\nchanged in shade and coloring, would serve with\\nvery few exceptions for all the tribes north of the\\nMexican territories. But with this similarity in their\\nmodes of thought, the tribes of the lake and ocean\\nshores, of the forests and of the plains, differ greatly\\nin their manner of life. Having been domesticated\\nfor several weeks among one of the wildest of the\\nhordes that roam over the remote prairies, I had\\nunusual opportunities of observing them, and flatter\\nmyself that a sketch of the scenes that passed daily\\nbefore my eyes may not be devoid of interest. They\\nwere thorough savages. Neither their manners nor\\ntheir ideas were in the slightest degree modified by\\ncontact with civilization. They knew nothing of the\\npower and real character of the white men, and their\\nchildren would scream in terror when they saw me.\\nTheir religion, superstitions, and prejudices were the\\nsame handed down to them from immemorial time.\\nThey fought with the weapons that their fathers\\nfought with, and wore the same garments of skins.", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0261.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "234 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThey were living representatives of the stone\\nage; for though their lances and arrows were\\ntipped with iron procured from the traders, they\\nstill used the rude stone mallet of the primeval\\nworld.\\nGreat changes are at hand in that region. With\\nthe stream of emigration to Oregon and California,\\nthe buffalo mil dwindle away, and the large wander-\\ning communities who depend on them for support\\nmust be broken and scattered. The Indians will\\nsoon be abased by whiskey and overawed by military\\nposts; so that within a few years the traveller may\\npass in tolerable security through their country.\\nIts danger and its charm will have disappeared\\ntogether.\\nAs soon as Raymond and I discovered the village\\nfrom the gap in the hills, we were seen in our turn;\\nkeen eyes were constantly on the watch. As we\\nrode down upon the plain, the side of the village\\nnearest us was darkened with a crowd of naked\\nfigures. Several men came forward to meet us. I\\ncould distinguish among them the green blanket of\\nthe Frenchman Reynal. When we came up the cere-\\nmony of shaking hands had to be gone through in\\ndue form, and then all were eager to know what had\\nbecome of the rest of ni}^ party. I satisfied them on\\nthis point, and we all moved together towards the\\nvillage.\\nYou ve missed it, said Reynal; if you d been\\nhere day before yesterday, you d have found the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0262.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAII VILLAGE. 235\\nwhole prairie over yonder black with buffalo as far as\\nyou could see. There were no cows, though; noth-\\ning but bulls. We made a surround every day till\\nyesterday. See the village there; don t that look\\nlike good living?\\nIn fact, I could see, even at that distance, long\\ncords stretched from lodge to lodge, over which the\\nmeat, cut by the squaws into thin sheets, was hang-\\ning to dry in the sun. I noticed too that the village\\nwas somewhat smaller than when I had last seen it,\\nand I asked Reynal the cause. He said that old Le\\nBorgne had felt too weak to pass over the mountains,\\nand so had remained behind with all his relations,\\nincluding Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers. The\\nWhirlwind too had been unwilling to come so far,\\nbecause, as Reynal said, he was afraid. Only half a\\ndozen lodges had adhered to him, the main body of\\nthe village setting their chief s authority at naught,\\nand taking the course most agreeable to their\\ninclinations.\\nWhat chiefs are there in the village now?\\nasked I.\\nWell, said Reynal, there s old Red-Water,\\nand the Eagle-Feather, and the Big Crow, and\\nthe Mad Wolf, and the Panther, and the White\\nShield, and what s his name? the half-breed\\nShienne.\\nBy this time we were close to the village, and I\\nobserved that while the greater part of the lodges\\nwere Yevy large and neat in their appearance, there", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0263.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "236 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwas at one side a cluster of squalid, miserable huts.\\nI looked towards them, and made some remark about\\ntheir wretched appearance. But I was touching upon\\ndelicate ground.\\nMy squaw s relations live in those lodges, said\\nReynal, very warmly; and there is n t a better set\\nin the whole village.\\nAre there any chiefs among them\\nChiefs? said Reynal; yes, plenty I\\nWhat are their names\\nTheir names Why, there s the Arrow-Head.\\nIf he is n t a chief, he ought to be one. And there s\\nthe Hail-Storm. He s nothing but a boy, to be sure;\\nbut he s bound to be a chief one of these days.\\nJust then we passed between two of the lodges,\\nand entered the great area of the village. Superb,\\nnaked figures stood silently gazing on us.\\nWhere s the Bad Wound s lodge? said I to\\nReynal.\\nThere, you ve missed it again The Bad Wound\\nis away with the Whirlwind. If you could have\\nfound him here, and gone to live in his lodge, he\\nwould have treated you better than any man in the\\nvillage. But there s the Big Crow s lodge yonder,\\nnext to old Red-Water s. He s a good Indian for\\nthe whites, and I advise you to go and live with\\nhim.\\nAre there many squaws and children in his\\nlodge? said I.\\nNo; only one squaw and two or three children.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0264.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 237\\nHe keeps the rest in a separate lodge by them-\\nselves.\\nSo, still followed by a crowd of Indians, Raymond\\nand I rode up to the entrance of the Big Crow s\\nlodge. A squaw came out immediately and took our\\nhorses. I put aside the leather flap that covered the\\nlow opening, and stooping, entered the Big Crow s\\ndwelling. There I could see the chief in the dim\\nlight, seated at one side, on a pile of buffalo-robes.\\nHe greeted me with a guttural How, col^! I\\nrequested Reynal to tell him that Raymond and I\\nwere come to live with him. The Big Crow gave\\nanother low exclamation. The announcement may\\nseem intrusive, but, in fact, every Indian in the vil-\\nlage would have deemed himself honored that white\\nmen should give such preference to his hospitality.\\nThe squaw spread a buffalo-robe for us in the\\nguest s place at the head of the lodge. Our saddles\\nwere brought in, and scarcely were we seated upon\\nthem before the place was thronged with Indians,\\ncrowding in to see us. The Big Crow produced his\\npipe and filled it with the mixture of tobacco and\\nshongsasha, or red willow bark. Round and round\\nit passed, and a lively conversation went forward.\\nMeanwhile a squaw placed before the two guests a\\nwooden bowl of boiled buffalo-meat; but unhappily\\nthis was not the only banquet destined to be inflicted\\non us. One after another, bo3^s and young squaws\\nthrust their heads in at the opening, to invite us to\\nvarious feasts in different parts of the village. For", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0265.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "238 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhalf an hour or more we were actively engaged in\\npassing from lodge to lodge, tasting in each of the\\nbowl of meat set before us, and inhaling a whiff or\\ntwo from our entertainer s pipe. A thunder-storm\\nthat had been threatening for some time now began\\nin good earnest. We crossed over to Reynal s lodge,\\nthough it hardly deserved the name, for it consisted\\nonly of a few old buffalo-robes, supported on poles,\\nand was quite open on one side. Here we sat down,\\nand the Indians gathered round us.\\nWhat is it, said I, that makes the thunder?\\nIt s my belief, said Reynal, that it s a big\\nstone rolling over the sky.\\nVery likely, I replied; but I want to know\\nwhat the Indians think about it.\\nSo he interpreted my question, which produced\\nsome debate. There was a difference of opinion.\\nAt last old Mene-Seela, or Red- Water, who sat by\\nhimself at one side, looked up with his withered\\nface, and said he had always known what the thunder\\nwas. It was a great black bird; and once he had\\nseen it, in a dream, swooping down from the Black\\nHills, with its loud roaring wings; and when it\\nflapped them over a lake, they struck lightning from\\nthe water.\\nThe thunder is bad, said another old man, who\\nsat muffled in his buffalo-robe he killed my brother\\nlast summer.\\nReynal, at my request, asked for an explanation\\nbut the old man remained doggedly silent, and would", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0266.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "The Thunder Fighters.\\nDrawn by Frederic Remington.\\nThe Oregon Trail, 239.", "height": "2886", "width": "1779", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0267.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "C^^j tfrfe a 7\\nCou^ili I", "height": "2959", "width": "1792", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0269.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0270.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "THE OG ILL ALL All VILLAGE. 289\\nnot look up. Some time after, I learned how the\\naccident occurred. The man who was killed belonged\\nto an association which, among other mystic func-\\ntions, claimed the exclusive power and privilege of\\nfighting the thunder. Whenever a storm which they\\nwished to avert was threatening, the thunder-fighters\\nwould take their bows and arrows, their guns, their\\nmagic drum, and a sort of whistle, made out of the\\nwing-bone of the war-eagle, and, thus equipped, run\\nout and fire at the rising cloud, whooping, yelling,\\nwhistling, and beating their drum, to frighten it\\ndown again. One afternoon, a heavy black cloud\\nwas coming up, and they repaired to the top of a hill,\\nwhere they brought all their magic artillery into play\\nagainst it. But the undaunted thunder, refusing to\\nbe terrified, darted out a bright flash, which sti uck\\none of the party dead as he was in the very act of\\nshaking his long iron-pointed lance against it. The\\nrest scattered and ran yelling in an ecstasy of super-\\nstitious terror back to their lodges.\\nThe lodge of my host Kongra-Tonga, or the Big\\nCrow, presented a picturesque spectacle that evening.\\nA score or more of Indians were seated around it in\\na circle, their dark naked forms just visible by the\\ndull light of the smouldering fire in the middle. The\\npipe glowed brightly in the gloom as it passed from\\nhand to hand. Then a squaw would drojD a piece of\\nbuffalo-fat on the dull embers. Instantly a bright\\nflame would leap up, darting its light to the very\\napex of the tall conical structure, where the tops of", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0271.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "240 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe slender poles that suj)ported the covering of hide\\nwere gathered together. It gilded the features of\\nthe Indians, as with animated gestures they sat\\naround it, telling their endless stories of war and\\nhunting, and displayed rude garments of skins that\\nhung around the lodge the bow, quiver, and lance,\\nsuspended over the resting-place of the chief, and\\nthe rifles and powder-horns of the two white guests.\\nFor a moment all would be bright as day then the\\nflames would die out; fitful flashes from the embers\\nwould illumine the lodge, and then leave it in dark-\\nness. Then the light would wholly fade, and the\\nlodge and all within it be involved again in obscurity.\\nAs I left the lodge next morning, I was saluted\\nby howling and yelping all around the village, and\\nhalf its canine population rushed forth to the attack.\\nBeing as cowardly as they were clamorous, they\\nkept jumping about me at the distance of a few\\nyards, only one little cur, about ten inches long, hav-\\ning spirit enough to make a direct assault. He\\ndashed valiantly at the leather tassel which in the\\nDahcotah fashion was trailing behind the heel of my\\nmoccason, and kept his hold, growling and snarling\\nall the while, though every step I made almost jerked\\nhim over on his back. As I knew that the eyes\\nof the whole village were on the watch to see if I\\nshowed any sign of fear, I walked forward without\\nlooking to the right or left, surrounded wherever I\\nwent by this magic circle of dogs. When I came to\\nReynal s lodge I sat down by it, on which the dogs", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0272.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 241\\ndispersed growling to their respective quarters. Only\\none large white one remained, running about before\\nme and showing his teeth. I called him, but he only\\ngrowled the more. I looked at him well. He was\\nfat and sleek just such a dog as I wanted. My\\nfriend, thought I, you shall pay for this! I will\\nhave you eaten this very morning I\\nI intended that day to give the Indians a feast, by\\nway of conveying a favorable impression of my char-\\nacter and dignity and a white dog is the dish which\\nthe customs of the Dahcotah prescribe for all occa-\\nsions of formality and importance. I consulted\\nReynal: he soon discovered that an old woman in\\nthe next lodge was owner of the white dog. I took\\na gaudy cotton handkerchief, and, laying it on the\\nground, arranged some vermilion, beads, and other\\ntrinkets upon it. Then the old squaw was sum-\\nmoned. I pointed to the dog and to the handker-\\nchief. She gave a scream of delight, snatched up\\nthe prize, and vanished with it into her lodge. For\\na few more trifles, I engaged the services of two\\nother squaws, each of whom took the white dog by\\none of his paws, and led him away behind the lodges.\\nHaving killed him, they threw him into a fire to\\nsinge; then chopped him up and put him into two\\nlarge kettles to boil. Meanwhile I told Raymond to\\nfry in buffalo fat what little flour we had left, and\\nalso to make a kettle of tea as an additional luxury.\\nThe Big Crow s squaw was briskly at work sweep-\\ning out the lodge for the approaching festivit3% I\\n16", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0273.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "242 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nconfided to my host himself the task of inviting the\\nguests, thinking that I might thereby shift from my\\nown shoulders the odium of neglect and oversight.\\nWhen feasting is in question, one hour of the\\nday serves an Indian as well as another. My enter-\\ntainment came off at about eleven o clock. At that\\nhour, Reynal and Raymond walked across the area of\\nthe village, to the admiration of the inhabitants,\\ncarrying the two kettles of dog-meat slung on a pole\\nbetween them. These they placed in the centre of\\nthe lodge, and then went back for the bread and the\\ntea. Meanwhile I had put on a pair of brilliant\\nmoccasons, and substituted for my old buck-skin\\nfrock a coat, which I had brought with me in view\\nof such public occasions. I also made careful use of\\nthe razor, an operation which no man will neglect who\\ndesires to gain the good opinion of Indians. Thus\\nattired, I seated myself between Reynal and Raymond\\nat the head of the lodge. Only a few minutes elapsed\\nbefore all the guests had come in and were seated on\\nthe ground, wedged together in a close circle. Each\\nbrought with him a wooden bowl to hold his share of\\nthe repast. When all were assembled, two of the\\nofficials called soldiers by the white men came\\nforward with ladles made of the horn of the Rocky\\nMountain sheep, and began to distribute the feast,\\nassigning a double share to the old men and chiefs.\\nThe dog vanished with astonishing celerity, and each\\nguest turned his dish bottom upward to show that all\\nwas sfone. Then the bread was distributed in its", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0274.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAII VILLAGE. 243\\nturn, and finally the tea. As the soldiers poured\\nit out into the same wooden bowls that had served\\nfor the substantial part of the meal, I thought it had\\na particularly curious and uninviting color.\\nOh, said Rej-nal, there was not tea enough,\\nso I stirred some soot in the kettle, to make it look\\nstrong.\\nFortunately an Indian s palate is not very discrimi-\\nnating. The tea was well sweetened, and that was\\nall they cared for.\\nNow, the feast being over, the time for speech-\\nmaking was come. The Big Crow produced a flat\\npiece of wood on which he cut up tobacco and shong-\\nsasha, and mixed them in due proportions. The\\npipes were filled and passed from hand to hand\\naround the company. Then I began my speech, each\\nsentence being interpreted by Reynal as I went on,\\nand echoed by the whole audience with the usual\\nexclamations of assent and approval. As nearly as\\nI can recollect, it was as follows\\nI had come, I told them, from a country so far\\ndistant, that at the rate they travel, they could not\\nreach it in a year.\\nHow! how!\\nThere the Meneaska were more numerous than\\nthe blades of grass on the prairie. The squaws were\\nfar more beautiful than any they had ever seen, and\\nall the men were brave warriors.\\nHowl how! how!\\nI was assailed by twinges of conscience as I uttered", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0275.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "244 THE OPtEGOX TRAIL.\\nthese hist words. But I recovered mj self and began\\nagain.\\nWhile I was living in the Meneaska lodges, I\\nhad heard of the Ogillallah, how great and brave a\\nnation they were, how they loved the whites, and\\nhow well they could hunt the buffalo and strike their\\nenemies. I resolved to come and see if all that I\\nheard was true.\\nHow how how how\\nAs I had come on horseback through the moun-\\ntains, I had been able to bring them only a very few\\npresents.\\nHow!\\nBut I had enough tobacco to give them all a small\\npiece. They might smoke it and see how much\\nbetter it was than the tobacco which they got from\\nthe traders.\\nHow! how! how!\\nI had plenty of powder, lead, knives, and tobacco\\nat Fort Laramie. These I was anxious to give them,\\nand if any of them should come to the fort before I\\nwent away, I would make them handsome presents.\\nHow! how! how! how!\\nRaymond then cut up and distributed among them\\ntwo or three pounds of tobacco, and old INIene-Seela\\nbegan to make a reply. It was long, but the follow-\\ning was the pith of it.\\nHe had always loved the whites. They were\\nthe wisest people on earth. He believed they could\\ndo anything, and he was always glad when any of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0276.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAII VILLAGE. 245\\nthem came to live in the Ogillallah lodges. It was\\ntrue I had not made them many presents, but the\\nreason of it was plain. It was clear that I liked\\nthem, or I never should have come so far to find\\ntheir village.\\nSeveral other speeches of similar import followed,\\nand then, this more serious matter being disposed of,\\nthere was an interval of smoking, laughing, and con-\\nversation. Old Mene-Seela suddenly interrupted it\\nwith a loud voice\\nNow is a good time, he said, when all the old\\nmen and chiefs are here together, to decide what the\\npeople shall do. We came over the mountains to\\nmake our lodges for next year. Our old ones are\\ngood for nothing they are rotten and worn out. But\\nwe have been disappointed. We have killed buffalo-\\nbulls enough, but we have found no herds of cows,\\nand the skins of bulls are too thick and heavy for\\nour squaws to make lodges of. There must be plenty\\nof cows about the Medicine Bow Mountain. We\\nought to go there. To be sure, it is farther westward\\nthan we have ever been before, and perhaps the\\nSnakes will attack us, for those hunting-grounds\\nbelong to them. But we must have new lodges at\\nany rate; our old ones will not serve for another\\nyear. We ought not to be afraid of the Snakes.\\nOur warriors are brave, and they are all ready foi\\nwar. Besides, we have three white men with their\\nrifles to help us.\\nThis speech produced a good deal of debate. As", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0277.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "246 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nReynal did not interpret what was said, I could only\\njudge of the meaning by the features and gestures of\\nthe speakers. At the end of it, however, the greater\\nnumber seemed to have fallen in with Mene-Seela s\\nopinion. A short silence followed, and then the old\\nman struck up a discordant chant, which I was told\\nwas a song of thanks for the entertainment I had\\ngiven them.\\nNow, said he, let us go and give the white\\nmen a chance to breathe.\\nSo the company all dispersed into the open air, and\\nfor some time the old chief was walking round the\\nvillage, singing his song in praise of the feast, after\\nthe custom of the nation.\\nAt last the day drew to a close; and as the sun\\nwent down, the horses came trooping from the sur-\\nrounding plains to be picketed before the dwellings\\nof their respective masters. Soon within the great\\ncircle of lodges appeared another concentric circle of\\nrestless horses; and here and there fires glowed and\\nflickered amid the gloom, on the dusky figures\\naround them. I went over and sat by the lodge of\\nReynal. The Eagle-Feather, who was a son of\\nMene-Seela, and brother of my host the Big Crow,\\nwas seated there already, and I asked him if the vil-\\nlage would move in the morning. He shook his\\nhead, and said that nobody could tell, for since old\\nMahto-Tatonka had died, the people had been like\\nchildren that did not know their own minds. They\\nwere no better than a body without a head. So I, as", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0278.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 247\\nwell as the Indians themselves, fell asleep that night\\nwithout knowing whether we should set out in the\\nmorning towards the country of the Snakes.\\nAt daybreak, however, as I was coming up from\\nthe river after my morning s ablutions, I saw that a\\nmovement was contemplated. Some of the lodges\\nwere reduced to nothing but bare skeletons of poles\\nthe leather covering of others was flapping in the\\nwind as the squaws pulled it off. One or two chiefs\\nof note had resolved, it seemed, on moving; and so\\nhaving set their squaws at work, the example was\\nfollowed by the rest of the village. One by one the\\nlodges were sinking down in rapid succession, and\\nwhere the great circle of the village had been only a\\nfew moments before, nothing now remained but a ring\\nof horses and Indians, crowded in confusion together.\\nThe ruins of the lodges were spread over the ground,\\ntogether ^vith kettles, stone mallets, great ladles of\\nhorn, buffalo-robes, and cases of painted hide, filled\\nwith dried meat. Squaws bustled about in busy\\npreparation, the old hags screaming to one another\\nat the stretch of their leathern lungs. The shaggy\\nhorses were patiently standing while the lodge-poles\\nwere lashed to their sides, and the baggage piled\\nupon their backs. The dogs, with tongues lolling\\nout, lay lazily panting, and waiting for the time of\\ndeparture. Each warrior sat on the ground by the\\ndecaying embers of his fire, unmoved amid the con-\\nfusion, holding in his hand the long trail-rope of his\\nhorse.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0279.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "248 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nAs their preparations were completed, each family\\nmoved off the ground. The crowd was rapidly melt-\\ning away. I could see them crossing the river, and\\npassing in quick succession along the profile of the\\nhill on the farther side. When all were gone, I\\nmounted and set out after them, followed by Ray-\\nmond, and, as we gained the summit, the whole\\nvillage came in view at once, straggling away for\\na mile or more over the barren plains before us.\\nEverywhere glittered the iron points of lances. The\\nsun never shone upon a more strange array. Here\\nwere the heavy-laden pack-horses, some wretched old\\nwoman leading them, and two or three children cling-\\ning to their backs. Here were mules or ponies cov-\\nered from head to tail with gaudy trappings, and\\nmounted by some gay young squaw, grinning bash-\\nfulness and pleasure as the Meneaska looked at her.\\nBoys with miniature bows and arrows wandered over\\nthe plains, little naked children ran along on foot,\\nand numberless dogs scampered among the feet of\\nthe horses. The young braves, gaudy with paint\\nand feathers, rode in groups among the crowd, often\\ngalloping, two or three at once along the line, to try\\nthe speed of their horses. Here and there you might\\nsee a rank of sturdy pedestrians stalking along in\\ntheir white buffalo-robes. These were the dignitaries\\nof the village, the old men and warriors, to whose\\nage and experience that wandering democracy yielded\\na silent deference. With the rough prairie and the\\nbroken hills for its background, the restless scene", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0280.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 249\\nwas striking and picturesque beyond description.\\nDays and weeks made me familiar with it, but never\\nimpaired its effect upon my fancy.\\nAs we moved on, the broken column grew yet\\nmore scattered and disorderly, until, as we approached\\nthe foot of a hill, I saw the old men before mentioned\\nseating themselves in a line upon the ground, in\\nadvance of the whole. They lighted a pipe and sat\\nsmoking, laughing, and telling stories, while the\\npeople, stopping as they successively came up, were\\nsoon gathered in a crowd behind them. Then the\\nold men rose, drew their buffalo-robes over their\\nshoulders, and strode on as before. Gaining the top\\nof the hill, we found a steep declivity before us.\\nThere was not a minute s pause. The whole de-\\nscended in a mass, amid dust and confusion. The\\nhorses braced their feet as they slid down, women\\nand children screamed, dogs yelped as they were\\ntrodden upon, while stones and earth went rolling\\nto the bottom. In a few moments I could see the\\nvillage from the summit, spreading again far and\\nwide over the plain below.\\nAt our encampment that afternoon I was attacked\\nanew by my old disorder. In half an hour the\\nstrength that I had been gaining for a week past had\\nvanished again, and I became like a man in a dream.\\nBut at sunset I lay down in the Big Crow s lodge\\nand slept, totally unconscious till the morning. The\\nfirst thing that awakened me was a hoai se flapping\\nover my head, and a sudden light that poured in", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0281.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "250 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nupon me. The camp was breaking up, and the\\nsqaaws were moving the covering from the lodge.\\nI arose and shook off my blanket with the feeling of\\nperfect health; but scarcely had I gained my feet\\nwhen a sense of my helpless condition was once more\\nforced upon me, and I found myself scarcely able to\\nstand. Raymond had brought up Pauline and the\\nmule, and I stooped to raise my saddle from the\\nground. My strength was unequal to the task.\\nYou must saddle her, said I to Raymond, as I sat\\ndown again on a pile of buffalo-robes. He did so,\\nand with a painful effort I mounted. As we were\\npassing over a great plain, surrounded by long broken\\nridges, I rode slowly in advance of the Indians with\\nthoughts that wandered far from the time and the\\nplace. Suddenly the sky darkened, and thunder began\\nto mutter. Clouds were rising over the hills, as dark\\nas the first forebodings of an approaching calamity;\\nand in a moment all around was wrapped in shadow.\\nI looked behind. The Indians had stopped to prepare\\nfor the approaching storm, and the dense mass of\\nsavaores stretched far to the right and left. Since\\nthe first attack of my disorder the effects of rain upon\\nme had usually been injurious in the extreme. I had\\nno strength to spare, having at that moment scarcely\\nenough to keep my seat on horseback. Then, for\\nthe first time, it pressed upon me as a strong proba-\\nbility that I might never leave those deserts. Well,\\nthought I to myself, the prairie makes quick and\\nsharp work. Better to die here, in the saddle to the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0282.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 251\\nlast, than to stifle in the hot air of a sick chamber;\\nand a thousand times better than to drag out life, as\\nmany have done, in the helpless inaction of lingering\\ndisease. So, drawing the buffalo-robe on which I\\nsat, over my head, I waited till the storm should\\ncome. It broke at last with a sudden burst of fury,\\nand passing away as rapidly as it came, left the sky\\nclear again. My reflections served me no other\\npurpose than to look back upon as a piece of curious\\nexperience; for the rain did not produce the ill\\neffects that I had expected. We encamped within\\nan hour. Having no change of clothes, I contrived\\nto borrow a curious kind of substitute from Reynal;\\nand this done, I went home that is, to the Big\\nCrow s lodge to make the entire transfer that was\\nnecessary. Half a dozen squaws were in the lodge,\\nand one of them taking my arm held it against her\\nown, while a general laugh and scream of admiration\\nwas raised at the contrast in the color of the skin.\\nOur encampment that afternoon was not far from\\na spur of the Black Hills, whose ridges, bristling\\nwith fir-trees, rose from the plains a mile or two on\\nour right. That they might move more rapidly\\ntowards their proposed hunting-grounds, the Indians\\ndetermined to leave at this place their stock of dried\\nmeat and other superfluous articles. Some left even\\ntheir lodges, and contented themselves with carrjang\\na few hides to make a shelter from the sun and rain.\\nHalf the inhabitants set out in the afternoon, with\\nloaded pack-horses, towards the mountains. Here", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0283.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "252 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthey suspended the dried meat upon trees, where the\\nwolves and grizzly bears could not get at it. All\\nreturned at evening. Some of the young men declared\\nthat they had heard the reports of guns among the\\nmountains to the eastward, and many surmises were\\nthrown out as to the origin of these sounds. For my\\npart, I was in hopes that Shaw and Henry Chatillon\\nwere coming to join us. I little suspected that at\\nthat very moment my unlucky comrade was lying on\\na buffalo-robe at Fort Laramie, fevered with ivy\\npoison, and solacing his woes with tobacco and\\nShakespeare.\\nAs we moved over the plains on the next morning,\\nseveral young men rode about the country as scouts;\\nand at length we began to see them occasionally on\\nthe tops of the hills, shaking their robes as a signal\\nthat they saw buffalo. Soon after, some bulls came in\\nsight. Horsemen darted away in pursuit, and we could\\nsee from the distance that one or two of the buffalo\\nwere killed. Raymond suddenly became insj^ired.\\nThis is the country for me! he said; if I could\\nonly carry the buffalo that are killed here every\\nmonth down to St. Louis, I d make my fortune in\\none winter; I d grow as rich as old Papin, or\\nMackenzie either. I call this the poor man s market.\\nWhen I m hungry, I ve only got to take my rifle\\nand go out and get better meat than the rich folks\\ndown below can get, with all their money. You\\nwon t catch me living in St. Louis another winter.\\nNo, said Reynal, you had better say that,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0284.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAII VILLAGE. 253\\nafter you and your Spanish woman almost starved to\\ndeath there. What a fool you were ever to take her\\nto the settlements\\nYour Spanish woman said I; I never heard\\nof her before. Are you married to her?\\nNo, answered Raymond; the priests don t\\nmarry their women, and why should I marry mine\\nThis honorable mention of the Mexican clergy\\nintroduced the subject of religion, and I found that\\nmy two associates, in common with other white men\\nin that country, were as indifferent to their future\\nwelfare as men whose lives are in constant peril are\\napt to be. Raymond had never heard of the Pope.\\nA certain bishop, who lived at Taos or at Santa F^,\\nembodied his loftiest idea of an ecclesiastical digni-\\ntary. Reynal observed that a priest had been at Fort\\nLaramie two years ago, on his way to the Nez Perc^\\nmission, and that he had confessed all the men there,\\nand given them absolution. I got a good clearing\\nout myself, that time, said Reynal; and I reckon\\nthat will do for me till I go down to the settlements\\nagain.\\nHere he interrupted himself with an oath, and\\nexclaimed, Look! look! The Panther is running\\nan antelope\\nThe Panther, on his black-and-Avhite horse, one of\\nthe best in the village, came at full speed over the\\nhill in hot pursuit of an antelope, that darted away\\nlike lightning before him. The attempt was made in\\nmere sport and bravado, for very few are the horses", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0285.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "254 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthat can for a moment compete in swiftness with\\nthis little animal. The antelope ran down the hill\\ntowards the main body of the Indians, who were\\nmoving over the plain below. Sharp yells were\\ngiven, and horsemen galloped out to intercept his\\nflight. At this he turned sharply to the left, and\\nscoured away with such speed that he distanced all\\nhis pursuers, even the vaunted horse of the Panther\\nhimself. A few moments after, we witnessed a more\\nserious sport. A shaggy buffalo-bull bounded out\\nfrom a neighboring hollow, and close behind him\\ncame a slender Indian boy, riding without stirrups or\\nsaddle, and lashing his eager little horse to full\\nspeed. Yard after yard he drew closer to his gigantic\\nvictim, though the bull, with his short tail erect and\\nhis tongue lolling out a foot from his foaming jaws,\\nwas straining his unwieldy strength to the utmost.\\nA moment more, and the boy was close alongside.\\nIt was our friend the Hail-Storm. He dropped the\\nrein on his horse s neck, and jerked an arrow like\\nlightning from the quiver at his shoulder.\\nI tell you, said Reynal, that in a year s time\\nthat boy will match the best hunter in the village.\\nThere, he has given it to him and there goes\\nanother! You feel well, now, old bull, don t you,\\nwith two arrows stuck in your lights! There, he\\nhas given him another! Hear how the Hail-Storm\\nyells when he shoots! Yes, jump at him; try it\\nagain, old fellow! You may jump all day before\\nyou get your horns into that pony!", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0286.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 255\\nThe bull sprang again and again at his assailant,\\nbut the horse kept dodging with wonderful celerity.\\nAt length the bull followed up his attack with a\\nfurious rush, and the Hail-Storm was put to flight,\\nthe shagg}^ monster following close behind. The\\nboy clung in his seat like a leech, and secure in the\\nspeed of his little pony, looked round towards us and\\nlaughed. In a moment he was again alongside the\\nbull, who was now driven to desperation. His eye.\\nballs glared through his tangled mane, and the blood\\nflew from his mouth and nostrils. Thus, still bat-\\ntling with each other, the two enemies disappeared\\nover the hill.\\nMany of the Indians rode at full gallop towards\\nthe spot. We followed at a more moderate pace,\\nand soon saw the bull lying dead on the side of the\\nhill. The Indians were gathered around him, and\\nseveral knives were already at work. These little\\ninstruments were plied with such wonderful address\\nthat the twisted sinews were cut apart, the ponderous\\nbones fell asunder as if by magic, and in a moment\\nthe vast carcass was reduced to a heap of bloody\\nruins. The surrounding group of savages offered no\\nvery attractive spectacle to a civilized eye. Some\\nwere cracking the huge thigh-bones and devouring\\nthe marrow within; others were cutting away pieces\\nof the liver, and other approved morsels, and swal-\\nlowing them on the spot with the appetite of wolves.\\nThe faces of most of them, besmeared with blood\\nfrom ear to ear, looked grim and horrible enough.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0287.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "256 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nMy friend the White Shield proffered me a marrow-\\nbone, so skilfully laid open that all the rich sub-\\nstance within was exposed to view at once. Another\\nIndian held out a large piece of the delicate lining of\\nthe paunch; but these courteous offerings I begged\\nleave to decline. I noticed one little boy who was\\nvery busy with his knife about the jaws and throat of\\nthe buffalo, from which he extracted some morsel of\\npeculiar delicacy. It is but fair to say, that only\\ncertain parts of the animal are considered eligible in\\nthese extempore banquets.\\nWe encamped that night, and marched westward\\nthrough the greater part of the following day. On\\nthe next morning we again resumed our journey. It\\nwas the seventeenth of July, unless my note-book\\nmisleads me. At noon Ave stopped by some pools of\\nrain-water, and in the afternoon again set forward.\\nThis double movement was contrary to the usual\\npractice of the Indians, but all were very anxious to\\nreach the hunting-ground, kill the necessary number\\nof buffalo, and retreat as soon as possible from the\\ndangerous neighborhood. I pass by for the present\\nsome curious incidents that occurred during these\\nmarches and encampments. Late in the afternoon of\\nthe last-mentioned day we came upon the banlvs of a\\nlittle sandy stream, of which the Indians could not\\ntell the name; for they were very ill acquainted with\\nthat part of the country. So parched and arid were\\nthe prairies around, that they could not supply grass\\nenough for the horses to feed upon, and we were", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0288.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAII VILLAGE. 257\\ncompelled to move farther and farther up the stream\\nin search of ground for encampment. The country\\nwas much wilder than before. The })lains were\\ngashed with ravines and broken into hollows and\\nsteep declivities, which flanked our course, as, in\\nlong scattered array, the Indians advanced up the\\nside of the stream. Mene-Seela consulted an extra-\\nordinary oracle to instruct him where the buffalo\\nwere to be found. When he with the other chiefs\\nsat down on the grass to smoke and converse, as they\\noften did during the march, tlie old man picked up\\none of those enormous black and green crickets,\\nwhich the Dahcotah call by a name that signifies,\\nThey who point out the buffalo. The Root-\\nDiggers, a wretched tribe beyond the mountains,\\nturn them to good account by making them into a\\nsort of soup, pronounced by certain unscrupulous\\ntrappers to be extremely rich. Holding the bloated\\ninsect respectfully between his fingers and thumb,\\nthe old Indian looked attentively at him and inquired,\\nTell me, my father, where must we go to-morrow\\nto find the buffalo? The cricket twisted about his\\nlong horns in evident embarrassment. At last he\\npointed, or seemed to point, them westward. Mene-\\nSeela, dropping him gently on the grass, laughed\\nwith great glee, and said that if we went that way\\nin the morning we should be sure to kill plenty of\\ngame.\\nTowards evening we came upon a fresh green\\nmeadow, traversed by the stream, and deep set\\n17", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0289.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "258 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\namong tuU sterile Lluffs. The Indians descended its\\nsteep bank; and as I was at the rear, I was one of\\nthe last to reach this point. Lances were glittering,\\nfeathers fluttering, and the water LeloAV me was\\ncrowded with men and. horses passing through, while\\nthe meadow beyond swarmed, with the restless crowd\\nof Indians. The sun was just setting, and poured\\nits softened light upon them through an opening in\\nthe hills.\\nI remarked to Reynal that at last we had found\\na good camping-ground.\\nOh, it s very good, replied he, ironically, espe-\\ncially if there is a Snake war-party about, and they\\ntake it into their heads to shoot down at us from\\nthe top of these hills. It s no plan of mine, camp-\\ning in such a hole as this.\\nThe Indians also seemed anxious. High up on the\\ntop of the tallest bluff, conspicuous in the bright\\nevening sunlight, sat a naked warrior on horseback,\\nlooking around over the neighboring country; and\\nRaymond told me that many of the young men had\\ngone out in different directions as scouts.\\nThe shadov/s had rcaehod to the very summit of\\nthe bluffs before the lodges were erected, and the\\nvillage reduced again to quiet and order. A cry was\\nsuddenly raised, and men, Avomen, and children came\\nrunning out with animated faces, and looked eagerly\\nthrough the opening in the hills b}- which the stream\\nentered from the westward. I could discern afar off\\nsome dark, heavy masses, passing over the sides of a", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0290.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE. 259\\nlow hill. They disappeared, and then others fol\u00c2\u00bb\\nlowed. These were bands of buffalo-cows. The\\nhunting-ground was reached at last, and everything\\npromised well for the morrow s chase. Being fatigued\\nand exhausted, I lay down in Kongra-Tonga s lodge,\\nwhen Raymond thrust in his head, and called upon\\nme to come and see some sport. A number of\\nIndians were gathered, laughing, along the line of\\nlodges on the western side of the village, and at some\\ndistance, I could plainly see in the twilight two huge\\nblack monsters stalking, heavily and solemnly, directly\\ntowards us. They were buffalo-bulls. The wind\\nblew from them to the village, and such was their\\nblindness and stupidity that they were advancing\\nupon the enemy without the least consciousness of\\nhis presence. Raymond told me that two young\\nmen had hidden themselves with guns in a ravine\\nabout twenty yards in front of us. The two bulls\\nwalked slowly on, heavily swinging from side to side\\nin their peculiar gait of stupid dignity. They ap-\\nproached within four or five rods of the ravine where\\nthe Indians lay in ambush. Here at last they seemed\\nconscious that something was wrong, for they both\\nstopped and stood perfectly still, without looking\\neither to the right or to the left. Nothing of them\\nwas to be seen but two black masses of shaggy mane,\\nwith horns, eyes, and nose in the centre, and a part\\nof hoofs visible at the bottom. At last the more\\nintelligent of them seemed to have concluded that it\\nwas time to retire. Very slowly, and with an air of", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0291.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "260 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ntlie gravest and most majestic deliberation, he began\\nto turn round, as if he were revolving on a pivot.\\nLittle by little his ugly brown side was exposed to\\nview. A white smoke sprang out, as it were from\\nthe ground; a sharp report came with it. The old\\nbull gave a very undignified jump, and galloped off.\\nAt this his comrade wheeled about with considerable\\nexpedition. The other Indian shot at him from the\\nravine, and then both the bulls ran away at full\\nspeed, while half the juvenile population of the vil-\\nlage raised a yell and ran after them. The first bull\\nsoon stopped, and while the crowd stood looking at\\nhim at a respectful distance, he reeled and rolled\\nover on his side. The other, wounded in a less vital\\npart, galloped away to the hills and escaped.\\nIn half an hour it was totally dark. I lay down\\nto sleep, and ill as I was, there was something very\\nanimating in the prospect of the general hunt that\\nwas to take place on the morrow.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0292.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XV.\\nTHE HUNTING CAMP.\\nLong before daybreak the Indians broke up their\\ncamp. The women of Mene-Seela s lodge were as\\nusual among the first that were ready for departure,\\nand I found the old man himself sitting by the embers\\nof the decayed fire, over which he was warming his\\nAvithered fingers, as the morning was very chill and\\ndamp. The preparations for moving were even more\\nconfused and disorderly than usual. While some\\nfamilies were leaving the ground, the lodges of others\\nwere still standing untouched. At this old Mene-\\nSeela grew impatient, and walking out to the middle\\nof the village, he stood with his robe wrapped close\\naround him, and harangued the people in a loud,\\nsharp voice. Now, he said, when they were on an\\nenemy s hunting-grounds, was not the time to behave\\nlike children they ought to be more active and united\\nthan ever. His speech had some effect. The delin-\\nquents took down their lodges and loaded their pack-\\nhorses; and when the sun rose, the last of the men,\\nwomen, and children had left the deserted camp.\\nThis movement was made merely for the purpose\\nof finding a better and safer position. So we advanced\\nonly three or four miles up the little stream, when", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0293.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "262 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\neach family assumed its relative place in the great\\nring of the village, and the sqnaws set actively at\\nwork in preparing the camp. But not a single war-\\nrior dismounted from his horse. All the men that\\nmorning were mounted on inferior animals, leading\\ntheir best horses by a cord, or confiding them to the\\ncare of boys. In small parties they began to leave\\nthe ground and ride rapidly away over the plains to\\nthe westward. I had taken no food, and not being at\\nall ambitious of farther al.)stinence, I went into my\\nhost s lodge, which his squaws had set up with won-\\nderful despatch, and sat down in the centre, as a\\ngentle hint that I was hungry. A wooden bowl was\\nsoon set before me, filled with the nutritious prepara-\\ntion of dried meat, called jjemmican by the northern\\nvoyagers, and wasna by the Dahcotah. Taking a\\nhandful to break my fast upon, I left the lodge just\\nin time to see the last band of hunters disappear over\\nthe ridge of the neighboring hill. I mounted Pauline\\nand galloped in pursuit, riding rather by the balance\\nthan by any muscular strength that remained to me.\\nFrom the top of the hill I could overlook a wide ex-\\ntent of desolate prairie, over which, far and near, little\\nparties of naked horsemen were rapidly passing. I\\nsoon came up to the nearest, and we had not ridden\\na mile before all were united into one large and\\ncompact body. All was haste and eagerness. Each\\nhunter whipped on his horse, as if anxious to be the\\nfirst to reach the game. In such movements among\\nthe Indians this is always more or less the case but", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0294.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 263\\nit was especially so in the present instance, because\\nthe head chief of the village was absent, and there\\nwere but few soldiers, a sort of Indian police, who\\namong their other functions usually assume the direc-\\ntion of a buffalo hunt. No man turned to the riofht\\nhand or to the left. We rode at a swift canter\\nstraight forward, up hill and down hill, and through\\nthe stiff, obstinate growth of the endless wild-sage\\nbushes. For an hour and a half the same red shoulders,\\nthe same long black hair, rose and fell with the motion\\nof the horses before me. Very little was said, though\\nonce I observed an old man severely reproving Ray-\\nmond for having left his rifle behind him, when there\\nwas some probability of encountering an enemy before\\nthe day was over. As we galloped across a plain\\nthickly set with sage-bushes, the foremost riders\\nvanished suddenly from sight, as if diving into the\\nearth. The arid soil was cracked into a deep ravine.\\nDown we all went in succession and galloped in a\\nline along the bottom, until we found a point where,\\none by one, the horses could scramble out. Soon\\nafter, we came upon a wide shallow stream, and as\\nwe rode swiftly over the hard sand-beds and through\\nthe thin sheets of rippling water, many of the savage\\nhorsemen threw themselves to the ground, knelt on\\nthe sand, snatched a hasty draught, and leaping back\\nagain to their seats, galloped on as before.\\nMeanwhile scouts kept in advance of the party;\\nand now we began to see them on the ridges of the\\nhills, waving their robes in token that buffalo were", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0295.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "264 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nvisible. These, however, proved to be nothing more\\nthan old straggling bulls, feeding ui)on the neighbor-\\ning plains, who would stare for a moment at the\\nhostile array and then gallop clumsily off. At length\\nwe could discern several of these scouts making their\\nsignals to us at once; no longer waving their robes\\nboldly from the top of the hill, bnt standing lower\\ndown, so that they could not be seen from the plains\\nbeyond. Game worth pursuing had evidently been\\ndiscovered. The excited Indians now urged forward\\ntheir tired horses even more rapidly than before.\\nPauline, who was still sick and jaded, began to\\ngroan heavily; and her yellow sides were darkened\\nwith sweat. As we were crowding together over a\\nlower intervening hill, I heard Reynal and Raymond\\nshouting to me from the left; and, looking in that\\ndirection, I saw them riding away behind a party of\\nabout twenty mean-looking Indians. These were the\\nrelatives of Reynal s squaw, Margot, who, not wish-\\ning to take part in the general hunt, were riding\\ntowards a distant hollow, where they saw a small\\nband of buffalo which they meant to appropriate to\\nthemselves. I answered to the call by ordering\\nRaymond to turn back and follow me. He reluc-\\ntantly obeyed, though Reynal, who had relied on\\nhis assistance in skinning, cutting up, and carrying\\nto camp the buffalo that he and his party should\\nkill, loudly protested, and declared that we should\\nsee no sport if we went with the rest of the Indians.\\nFollowed by Raymond, I pursued the main body of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0296.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 265\\nhunters, while Reynal, in a great rage, whipped his\\nhorse over the hill after his ragamuffin relatives.\\nThe Indians, still about a hundred in number, gal-\\nloped in a dense body at some distance in advance,\\na cloud of dust flying in the wind behind them. I\\ncould not overtake them until they had stopped on\\nthe side of the hill where the scouts were standing.\\nHere each hunter sprang in haste from the tired\\nanimal he had ridden, and leaped upon the fresh\\nhorse he had brought with him. There was not a\\nsaddle or a bridle in the whole party. A piece of\\nbuffalo-robe, girthed over the horse s back, served in\\nthe place of the one, and a cord of twisted hair, lashed\\nround his lower jaw, answered for the other. Eagle\\nfeathers dangled from every mane and tail, as marks\\nof courage and speed. As for the rider, he wore no\\nother clothing than a light cincture at his waist, and\\na pair of moccasons. He had a heavy whip, with a\\nhandle of solid elk-horn, and a lash of knotted bull-\\nhide, fastened to his wrist by a band. His bow was\\nin his hand, and his quiver of otter or panther skin\\nhung at his shoulder. Thus equipped, some thirty\\nof the hunters galloped away towards the left, in\\norder to make a circuit under cover of the hills, that\\nthe buffalo might be assailed on both sides at once.\\nThe rest impatiently waited until time enough had\\nelapsed for their companions to reach the required\\nposition. Then riding upward in a body, we gained\\nthe ridge of the hill, and for the first time came in\\nsight of the buffalo on the plain beyond.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0297.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "266 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThey were a band of cows, four or five hundred\\nin number, crowded together near the bank of a wide\\nstream that was soaldng across the sand-beds of the\\nvalley. This valley was a large circular basin, sun-\\nscorched and broken, scantily covered with herbage,\\nand surrounded with high barren hills, from an open-\\ning in which we could see our allies galloping out\\nupon the plain. The wind blew from that direction.\\nThe buffalo, aware of their approach, had begun to\\nmove, though very slowly and in a compact mass. I\\nhave no farther recollection of seeing the game until\\nwe were in the midst of them, for as we rode down\\nthe hill other objects engrossed my attention. Numer-\\nous old bulls were scattered over the plain, and,\\nungallantly deserting their charge at our approach,\\nbegan to wade and plunge through the quicksands of\\nthe stream, and gallop away towards the hills. One\\nold veteran was straggling behind the rest, with one\\nof his fore-legs, which had been broken by some acci-\\ndent, dangling about uselessly. His appearance, as\\nhe went shambling along on three legs, was so ludi-\\ncrous that I could not help pausing for a moment to\\nlook at him. As I came near, he would try to rush\\nupon me, nearly throwing himself down at every\\nawkward attempt. Looking up, I saw the whole\\nbody of Indians full an hundred yards in advance. I\\nlashed Pauline in pursuit and reached them just in\\ntime; for, at that moment, each hunter, as if by a\\ncommon impulse, violently struck his horse, each\\nhorse sprang forward, and, scattering in the charge", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0298.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 267\\nin order to assail the entire herd at once, we all\\nrushed headlong upon the buffalo. We were among\\nthem in an instant. Amid the trampling and the\\nyells I could see their dark figures running hither and\\nthither through clouds of dust, and the horsemen\\ndarting in pursuit. While we were charging on one\\nside, our companions attacked the bewildered and\\npanic-stricken herd on the other. The uproar and\\nconfusion lasted but a moment. The dust cleared\\naway, and the buffalo could be seen scattering as\\nfrom a common centre, fl3 ing over the plain singly,\\nor in long files and small compact bodies, while\\nbehind them followed the Indians, riding at furious\\nspeed, and yelling as they launched arrow after arrow\\ninto their sides. The carcasses were strewn thickly\\nover the ground. Here and there stood wounded\\nbuffalo, their bleeding sides feathered with arrows;\\nand as I rode by them their eyes would glare, they\\nwould bristle like gigantic cats, and feebly attempt\\nto rush up and gore my horse.\\nI left camp that morning with a philosophic reso-\\nlution. Neither I nor m} horse were at that time fit\\nfor such sport, and I had determined to remain a\\nquiet spectator; but amid the rush of horses and\\nbuffalo, the uproar and the dust, I found it impos-\\nsible to sit still and as four or five buffalo ran past\\nme in a line, I lashed Pauline in pursuit. We went\\nplunging through the water and the quicksands, and\\nclambering the bank, chased them through the wild-\\nsage bushes that covered the rising ground beyond.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0299.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "268 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nBut neither her native spirit nor the blows of the\\nknotted bull-hide could supply the place of poor\\nPauline s exhausted strength. We could not gain\\nan inch upon the fugitives. At last, however, they\\ncame full upon a ravine too wide to leap over; and\\nas this compelled them to turn abruptly to the left,\\nI contrived to get within ten or twelve yards of the\\nhindmost. At this she faced about, bristled angrily,\\nand made a show of charging. I shot at her, and hit\\nher somewhere in the neck. Down she tumbled into\\nthe ravine, whither her companions had descended\\nbefore her. I saw their dark backs appearing and\\ndisappearing as they galloped along the bottom;\\nthen, one by one, they scrambled out on the other\\nside, and ran off as before, the wounded animal\\nfollowing with the rest.\\nTurning back, I saw Raymond coming on his black\\nmule to meet me; and as we rode over the field\\ntogether, we counted scores of carcasses lying on the\\nplain, in the ravines, and on the sandy bed of the\\nstream. Far away in the distance, horsemen and\\nbuffalo were still scouring along, with clouds of dust\\nrising behind them; and over the sides of the hills\\nlong files of the frightened animals were rapidly\\nascending. The hunters began to return. The\\nboys, who had held the horses behind the hill, made\\ntheir appearance, and the work of flaying and cut-\\nting up began in earnest all over the field. I noticed\\nmy host Kongra-Tonga beyond the stream, just\\nalighting by the side of a cow which he had killed.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0300.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 269\\nRiding up to him, I found him in the act of drawing\\nout an arrow, which, with the exception of the notch\\nat the end, had entirely disappeared in the animal.\\nI asked him to give it to me, and I still retain it as a\\nproof, though by no means the most striking one that\\ncould be offered, of the force and dexterity with\\nwhich the Indians discharge their arrows.\\nThe hides and meat were piled upon the horses,\\nand the hunters began to leave the ground. Raymond\\nand I, too, getting tired of the scene, set out for the\\nvillage, riding straight across the intervening desert.\\nThere was no path, and as far as I could see, no\\nlandmarks sufficient to guide us; but Raymond\\nseemed to have an instinctive perception of the point\\non the horizon towards which we ought to direct our\\ncourse. Antelope were bounding on all sides, and as\\nis always the case in the presence of buffalo, they\\nseemed to have lost their natural shyness. Bands of\\nthem would run lightly up the rocky declivities, and\\nstand gazing down upon us from the summit. At\\nlength we could distinguish the tall white rocks and\\nthe old pine-trees that, as we well remembered, were\\njust above the site of the encampment. Still we\\ncould see nothing of the camp itself, until, mounting\\na grassy hill, we saw the circle of lodges, dingy with\\nstorms and smoke, standing on the plain at our feet.\\nI entered the lodge of my host. His squaw instantly\\nbrought me food and water, and spread a buffalo-\\nrobe for me to lie upon and being much fatigued, I\\nlay down and fell asleep. In about an hour, the", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0301.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "270 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nentraucG of Kongra-Tonga, with his arms smeared\\nwith blood to the elbows, awoke me he sat down in\\nhis usual seat, on the left side of the lodge. His\\nsquaw gave him a vessel of water for washing, set\\nbefore him a bowl of boiled meat, and, as he was\\neating, pulled off his bloody moccasons and placed\\nfresh ones on his feet; then outstretching his limbs,\\nmy host composed himself to sleep.\\nAnd now the hunters, two or three at a time, came\\nrapidly in, and each consigning his horses to the\\nsquaws, entered his lodge with the air of a man\\nwhose day s work was done. The squaws flung down\\nthe load from the burdened horses, and vast piles of\\nmeat and hides were soon gathered before every\\nlodge. By this time it was darkening fast, and the\\nwhole village was illumined by the glare of fires. All\\nthe squaws and children were gathered about the\\npiles of meat, exploring them in search of the daintiest\\nportions. Some of these they roasted on sticks before\\nthe fires, but often they dispensed with this super-\\nfluous operation. Late into the night the fires were\\nstill glowing upon the groups of feasters engaged in\\nthis savage banquet around them.\\nSeveral hunters sat down by the fire in Kongra-\\nTonga s lodge to talk over the day s exploits.\\nAmong the rest, Mene-Seela came in. Though he\\nmust have seen full eighty winters, he had taken an\\nactive share in the day s sport. He boasted that he\\nhad killed two cows that morning, and would have\\nkilled a third if the dust had not blinded him so that", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0302.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 271\\nhe had to drop his bow and arrows and press l)oth\\nhands against his eyes to stop the pain. The fire-\\nlight fell upon his wrinlded face and shrivelled figure\\nas he sat telling his story with such inimitable ges-\\nticulation that every man in the lodge broke into a\\nlaugh.\\nOld Mene-Seela was one of the few Indians in the\\nvillage with whom I would have trusted myself alone\\nwithout suspicion, and the only one from whom I\\nshould have received a gift or a service without the\\ncertainty that it proceeded from an interested motive.\\nHe was a great friend to the whites. He liked to be\\nin their society, and was very vain of the favors he\\nhad received from them. He told me one afternoon,\\nas we were sitting together in his son s lodge, that\\nhe considc^red the beaver and the whites the wisest\\npeople on earth indeed, he was convinced they were\\nthe same; and an incident which had happened to\\nhim longf before had assured him of this. So he\\nbegan the following story, and as the pipe passed in\\nturn to him, Reynal availed himself of these inter-\\nruptions to translate what had preceded. But the\\nold man accompanied his words with such admirable\\npantomime that translation was hardly necessary.\\nHe said that when he was very young, and had\\nnever yet seen a white man, he and three or four of\\nhis companions were out on a beaver hunt, and he\\ncrawled into a large beaver-lodge, to see what was\\nthere. Sometimes he crept on his hands and knees,\\nsometimes he was obliged to swim, and sometimes to", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0303.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "272 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nlie flat on his face and drag himself along. In this\\nway he crawled a great distance under ground. It\\nwas very dark, cold, and close, so that at last he was\\nalmost suffocated, and fell into a swoon. When\\nhe began to recover, he could just distinguish the\\nvoices of his companions outside, who had given him\\nUf) for lost, and were singing his death-song. At\\nfirst he could see nothing, but soon discerned some-\\nthing white before him, and at length plainly dis-\\ntinguished three people, entirely white, one man and\\ntwo women, sitting at the edge of a black pool of\\nwater. He became alarmed, and thought it high\\ntime to retreat. Having succeeded, after great\\ntrouble, in reaching daylight again, he went to the\\nspot directly above the pool of water where he had\\nseen the three mysterious beings. Here ne beat a\\nhole with his war-club in the ground, and sat down\\nto watch. In a moment the nose of an old male\\nbeaver appeared at the opening. Mene-Seela instantly\\nseized him and dragged him up, when two other\\nbeavers, both females, thrust out their heads, and\\nthese he served in the same way. These, said the\\nold man, concluding his story, for which he was\\nprobably indebted to a dream, must have been the\\nthree white people whom I saw sitting at the edge of\\nthe water.\\nMene-Seela was the grand depositary of the legends\\nand traditions of the village. I succeeded, however,\\nin getting from him only a few fragments. Like all\\nIndians, he was excessively superstitious, and con-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0304.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 273\\ntinually saw some reason for withholding his stories.\\nIt is a bad thing, he would say, to tell the tales\\nin summer. Stay with us till next winter, and I will\\ntell you everything I know; but now our war-\\nparties are going out, and our young men will be\\nkilled if I sit down to tell stories before the frost\\nbegins.\\nBut to leave this digression. We remained en-\\ncamped on this spot five days, during three of which\\nthe hunters were at work incessantly, and immense\\nquantities of meat and hides were brought in. Great\\nalarm, however, prevailed in the village. All were\\non the alert. The young men ranged the country as\\nscouts, and the old men paid careful attention to\\nomens and prodigies, and especially to their dreams.\\nIn order to convey to the enemy (who, if they were\\nin the neighborhood, must inevitably have known of\\nour presence) the impression that we were constantly\\non the watch, piles of sticks and stones were erected\\non all the surrounding hills, in such a manner as to\\nappear at a distance like sentinels. Often, even to\\nthis hour, that scene will rise before my mind like a\\nvisible reality: the tall white rocks; the old pine-\\ntrees on their summits; the sandy stream that ran\\nalong their bases and half encircled the village; and\\nthe wild-sage bushes, with their dull green hue and\\ntheir medicinal odor, that covered all the neighboring\\ndeclivities. Hour after hour the squaws would pass\\nand repass with their vessels of water between the\\nstream and the lodges. For the most part, no one\\n18", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0305.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "274 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwas to be seen in the camp but women and children,\\ntwo or three superannuated t ld men, and a few lazy\\nand worthless young ones. These, together with the\\ndogs, now grown fat and good-natured with the\\nabundance in the camp, were its only tenants. Still\\nit presented a busy and bustling scene. In all\\nquarters the meat, hung on cords of hide, was drying\\nin the sun, and around the lodges, the squaws, young\\nand old, were laboring on the fresh hides stretched\\nupon the ground, scraping the hair from one side and\\nthe still adhering flesh from the other, and rubbing\\ninto them the brains of the buffalo, in order to render\\nthem soft and pliant.\\nIn mercy to myself and my horse, I did not go out\\nwith the hunters after the first day. Of late, how-\\never, I had been gaining strength rapidly, as was\\nalways the case upon every respite of my disorder. I\\nwas soon able to walk with ease. Raymond and I\\nwould go out upon tlie neighboring prairies to shoot\\nantelope, or sometimes to assail straggling buffalo, on\\nfoot; an attempt in Avhich we met with rather indif-\\nferent success. As I came out of Kongra-Tonga s\\nlodge one morning, Reynal called to me from the\\nopposite side of the village, and asked me over to\\nbreakfast. The breakfast was a substantial one. It\\nconsisted of the rich, juicy hump-ribs of a fat cow a\\nrepast absolutely unrivalled in its way. It was\\nroasting before the fire, impaled upon a stout stick,\\nwhich Reynal took up and planted in the ground\\nbefore his lodge when he, with Raymond and myself,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0306.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 275\\ntaking our seats arountl it, nnslieatlied our knives\\nand assailed it with good will. In spite of all\\nmedical experience, this solid fare, without bread or\\nsalt, seemed to agree with me admirably.\\nWe shall have strangers here before night, said\\nRejaial.\\nHow do yon know that? I asked.\\nI dreamed so. I am as good at dreaming as an\\nIndian. There s the Hail-Storm he dreamed the\\nsame thing, and he and his crony. The Rabbit, have\\ngone out on discovery.\\nI laughed at Reynal for his credulity, went over\\nto my host s lodge, took down my rifle, walked out\\na mile or two on the prairie, saw an old bull stand-\\ning alone, crawled up a ravine, shot him, and saw\\nhim escape. Then, exhausted and rather ill-humored,\\nI walked back to the village. By a strange coinci-\\ndence, Reynal s prediction had been verified for the\\nfirst persons whom I saw were the two trappers.\\nRouleau and Saraphin, coming to meet me. These\\nmen, as the reader may possibly recollect, had left\\nour party about a fortnight before. They had been\\ntrapping among the Black Hills, and were now on\\ntheir way to the Rocky Mountains, intending in a\\nday or two to set out for the neighboring Medicine\\nBow. They were not the most elegant or refined of\\ncompanions, yet they made a very welcome addition\\nto the hmited society of the village. For the rest of\\nthat day we lay smoking and talking in Reynal s\\nlodge. This indeed was no better than a hut, made", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0307.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "276 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nof hides stretched on poles, and entirely open in\\nfront. It was well carpeted with soft buffalo-robes,\\nand here we remained, sheltered from the sun, sur-\\nrounded by the domestic utensils of Madame Margot s\\nhousehold. All was quiet in the village. Though\\nthe hunters had not gone out that day, they lay\\nsleeping in their lodges, and most of the women were\\nsilently engaged in their heavy tasks. A few young\\nmen were playing at a lazy game of ball in the area\\nof the village; and when they became tired, some\\ngirls supplied their place with a more boisterous\\nsport. At a little distance, among the lodges, some\\nchildren and half-grown squaws were playfully toss-\\ning one of their number in a buffalo-robe, an ex-\\nact counterpart of the ancient pastime from which\\nSancho Panza suffered so much. Farther out on the\\nprairie, a host of little naked boys w^ere roaming\\nabout, engaged in various rough games, or pursuing\\nbirds and ground-squirrels with their bows and\\narrows and woe to the unhappy little animals that\\nfell into their merciless, torture-loving hands. A\\nsquaw from the next lodge, a notable housewife,\\nnamed Weah Washtay, or the Good Woman, brought\\nus a large bowl of wasna, and went into an ecstasy\\nof delight when I presented her with a green glass\\nring, such as I usually wore with a view to similar\\noccasions.\\nThe sun went down, and half the sky was glowing\\nfiery red, reflected on the little stream as it wound\\naway among the sage-bushes. Some young men left", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0308.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 277\\nthe village, and soon returned, driving in before\\nthem all the horses, hundreds in number, and of\\nevery size, age, and color. The hunters came out,\\nand each securing those that belonged to him, ex-\\namined their condition, and tied them fast by long\\ncords to stakes driven in front of his lodge. It was\\nhalf an hour before the bustle subsided and tran-\\nquillity was restored again. By this time it was\\nnearly dark. Kettles were hung over the fires,\\naround which the squaws were gathered with their\\nchildren, laughing and talking merrily. A circle of\\na different kind was formed in the centre of the vil-\\nlage. This was composed of the old men and war-\\nriors of repute, who sat together with their white\\nbuffalo-robes drawn close around their shoulders and\\nas the pipe passed from hand to hand, their conversa-\\ntion had not a particle of the gravity and reserve\\nusually ascribed to Indians. I sat down with them\\nas usual. I had in my hand half a dozen squibs and\\nserpents, which I had made one day when encamped\\nupon Laramie Creek, with gunpowder and charcoal,\\nand the leaves of Fremont s Expedition, rolled\\nround a stout lead-pencil. I v/aited till I could get\\nhold of the large piece of burning bois-de-vache which\\nthe Indians kept by them on the ground for lighting\\ntheir pipes. With this I lighted all the fireworks at\\nonce, and tossed them whizzing and sputtering into\\nthe air, over the heads of the company. They all\\njumped up and ran off with yeljjs of astonishment\\nand consternation. After a moment or two, they", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0309.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "278 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nventured to come back one by one, and some of the\\nboldest, picking up the cases of burnt paper, ex-\\namined them with eager curiosity to discover their\\nmysterious secret. From that time forward I enjoyed\\ngreat repute as a fire-medicine.\\nThe camp was filled with the low hum of cheerful\\nvoices. There were other sounds, however, of a\\ndifferent kind; for from a large lodge, lighted up\\nlike a gigantic lantern by the blazing fire within,\\ncame a chorus of dismal cries and wailings, long\\ndrawn out, like the howling of Avolves, and a woman,\\nalmost naked, was crouching close outside, crying\\nviolently, and gashing her legs with a knife till they\\nwere covered with blood. Just a year before, a\\nyoung man belonging to this family had been slain\\nby the enemy, and his relatives were thus lamenting\\nhis loss. Still other sounds might be heard; loud\\nearnest cries often repeated from amid the gloom, at\\na distance beyond the village. They proceeded from\\nsome young men who, being about to set out in a few\\ndays on a war-part} were standing at the top of a\\nhill, calling on the Great Spirit to aid them in their\\nenterprise. While I was listening, Rouleau, with a\\nlaugh on his careless face, called to me and directed\\nmy attention to another quarter. In front of the\\nlodge where Weah Washtay lived, another squaw\\nwas standing, angrily scolding an old yellow dog,\\nwho lay on the ground with his nose resting between\\nhis paws, and his eyes turned sleepily up to her\\nface, as if pretending to give respectful attention,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0310.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 279\\nbut resolved to fall asleep as soon as it was all\\nover.\\nYou ought to be ashamed of yourself! said the\\nold woman. I have fed you well, and taken care\\nof you ever since yon v/erc small and blind, and\\ncould only crawl about and squeal a little, instead of\\nhowling as you do now. When you grew old, I\\nsaid you were a good dog. You were strong and\\ngentle when the load was put on your back, and you\\nnever ran among the feet of the horses when we were\\nail travelling together over the prairie. But you\\nhad a bad heart! Whenever a rabbit jumped out\\nof the bushes, you were always the first to run after\\nhim and lead away all the other dogs behind you.\\nYou ought to have known that it was very dangerous\\nto act so. When you had got far out on the prairie,\\nand no one was near to help you, perhaps a wolf\\nwould jump out of the ravine and then what could\\nyou do You would certainly have been killed, for\\nno dog can fight well with a load on his back. Only\\nthree days ago you ran off in that way, and turned\\nover the bag of wooden pins with which I used to\\nfasten up the front of the lodge. Look wp there, and\\nyou will see that it is all flapping open. And now\\nto-night you have stolen a great piece of fat meat\\nwhich was roasting before the fire for my children.\\nI tell you, you have a bad heart, and you must\\ndie!\\nSo saying, the squaw went into the lodge, and\\ncoming out with a large stone mallet, killed the", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0311.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "280 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nunfortunate dog at one blow. This speech is worthy\\nof notice, as illustrating a curious characteristic of\\nthe Indians, v/ho ascribe intelligence and a power of\\nunderstanding speech to the inferior animals; to\\nwhom, indeed, according to many of their traditions,\\nthey are linked in close affinity and the}- even claim\\nthe honor of a lineal descent from bears, wolves,\\ndeer, or tortoises.\\nAs it grew late, I walked across the village to the\\nlodge of my host, Kongra-Tonga. As I entered I\\nsaw him, by the blaze of the fire in the middle,\\nreclining half asleep in his usual place. His couch\\nwas by no means an uncomfortable one. It consisted\\nof buffalo-robes, laid together on the ground, and a\\npillow made of whitened deer-skin, stuffed with\\nfeathers and ornamented with beads. At his back\\nwas a light framework of poles and slender reeds,\\nagainst which he could lean with ease when in a sit-\\nting posture and at the top of it, just above his\\nhead, hung his bow and quiver. His squaw, a laugh-\\ning, broad-faced woman, apparently had not yet\\ncompleted her domestic arrangements, for she was\\nbustling about the lodge, pulling over the utensils\\nand the bales of dried meat that were ranged care-\\nfully around it. Unhappily, she and her partner were\\nnot the only tenants of the dwelling for half a dozen\\nchildren were scattered about, sleeping in every\\nimaginable posture. My saddle was in its place at\\ntlie head of the lodge, and a buffalo-robe was spread\\non the ground before it. Wrapping myself in my", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0312.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 281\\nblanket, I lay down but had I not been extremely\\nfatigued, the noise in the next lodge would have\\nprevented my sleeping. There Avas the monotonous\\nthumping of the Indian drum, mixed with occasional\\nsharp yells, and a chorus chanted by twenty voices.\\nA grand scene of gambling was going forward with\\nall the appropriate formalities. The players were\\nstaking on the chances of the game their ornaments,\\ntheir horses, and as the excitement rose, their gar-\\nments, and even their weapons; for desperate gam-\\nbling is not confined to the hells of Paris. The men\\nof the plains and forests no less resort to it as a relief\\nto the tedious monotony of their lives, which alter-\\nnate between fierce excitement and listless inaction.\\nI fell asleep with the dull notes of the drum still\\nsounding on my ear; but these orgies lasted without\\nintermission till daylight. I was soon awakened by\\none of the children crawling over me, while another\\nlarger one was tugging at my blanket and nestling\\nhimself in a very disagreeable proximity. I imme-\\ndiately repelled these advances by punching the heads\\nof these miniature savages with a short stick which I\\nalwaj^s kept by me for the purpose and as sleeping\\nhalf the day and eating much more than is good for\\nthem makes them extremely restless, this operation\\nusually had to be repeated four or five times in the\\ncourse of the night. My host himself was the author\\nof another formidable annoyance. All these Indians,\\nand he among the rest, think themselves bound to the\\nconstant performance of certain acts as the condition", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0313.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "282 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\non which their success in life depends, whether in\\nwar, love, hunting, or any other employment. These\\nmedicines, as they are called, which are usually\\ncommunicated in dreams, are often absurd enough.\\nSome Indians will strike the butt of the pipe against\\nthe ground every time they smoke others will insist\\nthat everything they say shall be interpreted by con-\\ntraries; and Shaw once met an old man who con-\\nceived that all would be lost unless he compelled\\nevery white man he met to drink a bowl of cold\\nwater. My host was particularly unfortunate in his\\nallotment. The sj)irits had told him in a dream that\\nhe must sing a certain song in the middle of every\\nnight; and regularly at about twelve o clock his\\ndismal monotonous chanting would awaken me, and\\nI would see him seated bolt upright on his couch,\\ngoing through his dolorous performance with a most\\nbusiness-like air. There were other voices of the\\nnight, still more inharmonious. Twice or thrice,\\nbetween sunset and dav/n, all the dogs in the village,\\nand there were hundreds of them, would bay and\\nyelp in chorus; a horrible clamor, resembling no\\nsound that I have ever heard, except perhaps the\\nfrightful howling of wolves that we used sometimes\\nto hear, long afterward, when descending the Arkansas\\non the trail of General Kearney s army. This canine\\nuproar is, if possible, more discordant than that of\\nthe wolves. Heard at a distance slowly rising on\\nthe night, it has a strange unearthly effect, and\\nwould fearfully haunt the di eams of a nervous man", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0314.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 283\\nbut when you are sleeping in the midst of it, the din\\nis outrageous. One long, loud howl begins it, and\\nvoice after voice takes up the sound, till it passes\\naround the whole circumference of the village, and\\nthe air is filled with confused and discordant cries, at\\nonce fierce and mournful. It lasts a few moments,\\nand then dies away into silence.\\nMorning came, and Kongra-Tonga, mounting his\\nhorse, rode out with the hunters. It may not he\\namiss to glance at him for an instant in his character\\nof husband and father. Both he and his squaw, like\\nmost other Indians, were very fond of their children,\\nwhom they indulged to excess, and never punished,\\nexcept in extreme cases, when they would throw\\na bowl of cold water over them. Their offspring\\nbecame sufficiently undutiful and disobedient under\\nthis system of education, which tends not a little to\\nfoster that wild idea of liberty and utter intolerance\\nof restraint which lie at the foundation of the Indian\\ncharacter. It would be hard to find a fonder father\\nthan Kongra-Tonga. There was one urchin in par-\\nticular, rather less than two feet high, to whom he\\nwas exceedingly attached; and sometimes spreading\\na buffalo-robe in the lodge, he would seat himself\\nupon it, place his small favorite upright before him,\\nand chant in a low tone some of the words used as an\\naccompaniment to the war-dance. The little fellow,\\nwho could just manage to balance himself by stretch-\\ning out both arms, would lift his feet and turn slowly\\nround and round in time to his father s music, while", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0315.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "284 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmy host would laugh with delight, and look smiling\\nup into my face to see if I were admiring this preco-\\ncious performance of his offspring. In his capacity\\nof husband he was less tender. The squaw who lived\\nin the lodge with him had been his partner for many\\nyears. She took good care of his children and his\\nhousehold concerns. He liked her well enough, and\\nas far as I could see, they never quarrelled; but his\\nwarmer affections were reserved for younger and\\nmore recent favorites. Of these he had at present\\nonly one, who lived in a lodge apart from his own.\\nOne day while in this camp, he became displeased\\nwith her, pushed her out, threw after her her orna-\\nments, dresses, and everything she had, and told her\\nto go home to her father. Having consummated\\nthis summary divorce, for which he could show good\\nreasons, he came back, seated himself in his usual\\nplace, and began to smoke with an air of the utmost\\ntranquillity and self-satisfaction.\\nI was sitting in the lodge with him on that very\\nafternoon, when I felt some curiosity to learn the\\nhistory of the numerous scars that appeared on his\\nnaked body. Of some of them, however, I did not\\nventure to inquire, for I already understood their\\norigin. Each of his arms was marked as if deeply\\ngashed with a knife at regular intervals, and there\\nwere other scars also, of a different character, on his\\nback and on either breast. They were the traces of\\nthe tortures which these Indians, in common with a\\nfew other tribes, inflict upon themselves at certain", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0316.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 285\\nseasons; in part, it may be, to gain tlie glory of\\ncourage and endurance, but chiefly as an act of self-\\nsacrifice to secure the favor of the spirits. The scars\\nupon the breast and back were produced by running\\nthrough the flesh strong splints of wood, to which\\nheavy buffalo-skulls are fastened by cords of hide,\\nand the wretch runs forward with all his strength,\\nassisted by two companions, who take hold of each\\narm, until the flesh tears apart and the skulls are left\\nbehind. Others of Kongra-Tonga s scars were the\\nresult of accidents but he had many received in war.\\nHe was one of the most noted warriors in the village.\\nIn the course of his life he had slain, as he boasted\\nto me, fourteen men and though, like other Indians,\\nhe was a braggart and liar, yet in this statement\\ncommon report bore him out. Being flattered by my\\ninquiries, he told me tale after tale, true or false, of\\nhis warlike exploits; and there was one among the\\nrest illustrating the worst features of Indian char-\\nacter too well for me to omit it. Pointing out of the\\nopening of the lodge towards the Medicine Bow\\nMountain, not many miles distant, he said that he\\nwas there a few summers ago with a war-party of his\\nyoung men. Here they found two Snake Indians,\\nhunting. They shot one of them with arrows, and\\nchased the other up the side of the mountain till they\\nsurrounded him, and Kongra-Tonga himself, jumping\\nforward among the trees, seized him by the arm.\\nTwo of his young men then ran up and held him fast\\nwhile he scalped him alive. They then built a great", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0317.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "286 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nfire, and cutting the tendons of their captive s wrists\\nand feet, threw him in, and held him down with long\\npoles until he was burnt to death. He garnished his\\nstory with descriptive particulars much too revolting\\nto mention. His features were remarkably mild and\\nopen, without the fierceness of expression common\\namong these Indians and as he detailed these devil-\\nish cruelties, he looked up into my face with the air\\nof earnest simplicity which a little child would wear\\nin relating to its mother some anecdote of its youthful\\nexperience.\\nOld Mene-Seela s lodge could offer another illus-\\ntration of the ferocity of Indian warfare. A bright-\\neyed, active little boy was living there who had\\nbelonged to a village of the Gros-Ventre Blackfeet,\\na small but bloody and treacherous band, in close\\nalliance with the Arapahoes. About a year before,\\nKongra-Tonga and a party of warriors had found\\nabout twenty lodges of these Indians upon the plains\\na little to the eastward of our present camp; and\\nsurrounding them in the night, they butchered men,\\nwomen, and children, preserving only this little boy\\nalive. He was adopted into the old man s family,\\nand was now fast becoming identified with the\\nOgillallah children, among whom he mingled on equal\\nterms. There was also a Crow warrior in the vil-\\nlage, a man of gigantic stature and most symmetrical\\nproportions. Having been taken prisoner many years\\nbefore and adopted by a squaw in place of a son\\nwhom she had lost, he had forgotten his old nation-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0318.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 287\\nality, and was now both in act and inclination an\\nOgillallah.\\nIt will be remembered that the scheme of the grand\\nwar-party against the Snake and Crow Indians origi-\\nnated in this village and though this plan had fallen\\nto the ground, the embers of martial ardor continued\\nto glow. Eleven young men had prepared to go out\\nagainst the enemy, and the fourth day of our stay in\\nthis camp was fixed upon for their departure. At\\nthe head of this party was a well-built, active little\\nIndian, called the White Shield, whom I had always\\nnoticed for the neatness of his dress and appearance.\\nHis lodge too, though not a large one, was the best\\nin the village, his squaw was one of the prettiest, and\\naltogether his dwelling was the model of an Ogillallah\\ndomestic establishment. I was often a visitor there,\\nfor the White Shield, being rather partial to white\\nmen, used to invite me to continual feasts at all hours\\nof the day. Once, when the substantial part of the\\nentertainment was over, and he and I were seated\\ncross-legged on a buffalo-robe smoking together very\\namicably, he took down his warlike equipments,\\nwhich were hanging around the lodge, and displayed\\nthem with great pride and self-importance. Among\\nthe rest was a superb head-dress of feathers. Taking\\nthis from its case, he put it on and stood before me,\\nperfectly conscious of the gallant air which it gave\\nto his dark face and his vigorous, graceful figure. He\\ntold me that upon it were tlie feathers of three war-\\neagles, equal in value to the same number of good", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0319.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "288 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhorses. He took up also a sbield gayly painted and\\nhung with featliers. Tlie effect of these barbaric\\nornaments was admirable. His quiver was made of\\nthe spotted skin of a small panther, common among\\nthe Black Hills, from which the tail and distended\\nclaws were still allowed to hang. The White Shield\\nconcluded his entertainment in a manner character-\\nistic of an Indian. He begged of me a little powder\\nand ball, for he had a gun as well as a bow and\\narrows; but this I was obliged to refuse, because I\\nhad scarcely enough for my own use. Making him,\\nhowever, a parting present of a paper of vermilion, I\\nleft him quite contented.\\nOn the next morning the White Shield took cold,\\nand was attacked with an inflammation of the throat.\\nImmediately he seemed to lose all spirit, and though\\nbefore no warrior in the village had borne himself\\nmore proudly, he now moped about from lodge to\\nlodge with a forlorn and dejected air. At length he\\nsat down, close wrapped in his robe, before the lodge\\nof Reynal, but when he found that neither he nor I\\nknew how to relieve him, he arose and stalked over\\nto one of the medicine-men of the village. This old\\nimpostor thumped him for some time with both fists,\\nhowled and yelped over him, and beat a drum close\\nto his ear to expel the evil spirit. This treatment\\nfailing of the desired effect, the White Shield with-\\ndrew to his own lodge, where he lay disconsolate for\\nsome hours. Making his appearance once more in\\nthe afternoon, he again took his seat on the ground", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0320.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 289\\nbefore Reynal s lodge, holding his throat with his\\nhand. For some time lie sat silent with his eyes\\nfixed mournfully on the ground. At last he began\\nto speak in a low tone.\\nI am a brave man, lie said; all the young men\\nthink me a great warrior, and ten of them are ready to\\ngo with me to the war. I will go and show them the\\nenemy. Last summer the Snakes killed my brother.\\nI cannot live unless I revenge his death. To-morrow\\nwe will set out and I will take their scalps.\\nThe White Shield, as he expressed this resolution,\\nseemed to have lost all the accustomed fire and spirit\\nof his look, and hung his head as if in a fit of\\ndespondency.\\nAs I was sitting that evening at one of the fires, I\\nsaw him arrayed in his splendid war-dress, his cheeks\\npainted with vermilion, leading his favorite war-horse\\nto the front of his lodge. He mounted and rode\\nround the village, singing his war-song in a loud,\\nhoarse voice amid the shrill acclamations of the\\nwomen. Then dismounting, he remained for some\\nminutes prostrate upon the ground, as if in an act of\\nsupplication. On the following morning I looked\\nin vain for the departure of the warriors. All was\\nquiet in the village until late in the forenoon, when\\nthe White Shield came and seated himself in his old\\nplace before us. Reynal asked him why he had not\\ngone out to find the enemy.\\nI cannot go, he answered in a dejected voice.\\nI have given my war-arrows to the Meneaska.\\n19", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0321.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "290 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nYou have only given him two of your arrows,\\nsaid Reynal. If you ask him, he will give them\\nback again.\\nFor some time the White Shield said nothing. At\\nlast he spoke in a gloomy tone,\\nOne of my young men has had bad dreams. The\\nspirits of the dead came and threw stones at him in\\nhis sleep.\\nIf such a dream had actually taken place it might\\nhave broken up this or any other war-party, but both\\nReynal and I were convinced at the time that it was\\na mere fabrication to excuse his remaining at home.\\nThe White Shield was a warrior of noted prowess.\\nVery probably, he would have received a mortal\\nwound without the show of pain, and endured with-\\nout flinching the worst tortures that an enemy could\\ninflict upon him. The whole power of an Indian s\\nnature would be summoned to encounter such a trial\\nevery influence of his education from childhood would\\nhave prepared him for it; the cause of his suffering\\nwould have been visibly and palpably before him,\\nand his spirit would lise to set his enemy at defiance,\\nand gain the highest glory of a warrior by meeting\\ndeath with fortitude. But when he feels himself\\nattacked by a mysterious evil, before whose assaults\\nhis manhood is wasted, and his strength drained\\naway, when he can see no enemy to resist and defy,\\nthe boldest M^arrior falls prostrate at once. He\\nbelieves that a bad spirit has taken possession of him,\\nor that he is the victim of some charm. When suffer-\\nJl", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0322.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "THE HUNTING CAMP. 291\\ning from a protracted disorder, an Indian will often\\nabandon himself to his supposed destiny, pine away\\nand die, the victim of his own imagination. The\\nsame effect will often follow a series of calamities, or\\na long run of ill-luck, and Indians have been known\\nto ride into the midst of an enemy s camp, or attack\\na grizzly bear single-handed, to get rid of a life\\nsupposed to lie under the doom of fate.\\nThus, after all his fasting, dreaming, and calling\\nupon the Great Spirit, the White Shield s war-party\\ncame to nousfht.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0323.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XVI.\\nTHE TRAPPERS.\\nIn speaking of the Indians, I have ahnost forgotten\\ntwo bokl adventurers of another race, the trappers\\nRouleau and Saraphin. These men were bent on a\\nhazardous enterprise. They were on their way to\\nthe country ranged by the Arapahoes, a day s journey\\nwest of our camp. These Arapahoes, of whom Shaw\\nand I afterwards fell in with a large number, are\\nferocious savages, who of late had declared them-\\nselves enemies to the whites, and threatened death\\nto the first who should venture within their territory.\\nThe occasion of the declaration was as follows\\nIn the preceding spring, 1845, Colonel Kearney left\\nFort Leavenworth with several companies of dragoons,\\nmarched to Fort Laramie, passed along tlie foot of\\nthe mountains to Bent s Fort, and then, turning east-\\nward again, returned to the point whence he set out.\\nWhile at Fort Laramie, he sent a part of his com-\\nmand as far westward as Sweetwater, while he him-\\nself remained at the fort, and despatched messages to\\nthe surrounding Indians to meet him there in council.\\nThen for the first time the tribes of that vicinity saw\\nthe white warriors, and, as might have been expected,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0324.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "THE TRAPPERS. 293\\nthey were lost in astonishment at their regular order,\\ntheir gay attire, the completeness of their martial\\nequipment, and the size and strength of their horses.\\nAmong the rest, the Arapahoes came in considerable\\nnumbers to the fort. They had lately committed\\nnumerous murders, and Colonel Kearney threatened\\nthat if they killed any more white men he would turn\\nloose his dragoons upon them, and annihilate their\\nnation. In the evening, to add effect to his speech,\\nhe ordered a howitzer to be fired and a rocket to be\\nthrown up. INIany of the Arapahoes fell flat on the\\nground, while others ran away screaming with amaze-\\nment and terror. On the following day they with-\\ndrew to their mountains, confounded at the appearance\\nof the dragoons, at their big gun which went off\\ntAvice at one shot, and the fiery messenger which they\\nhad sent up to the Great Spirit. For many months\\nthey remained quiet, and did no farther mischief.\\nAt length, just before we came into the country, one\\nof them, by an act of the basest treachery, killed two\\nwhite men. Boot and May, who were trapping among\\nthe mountains. For this act it was impossible to\\ndiscover a motive. It seemed to spring from one\\nof those inexplicable impulses which often possess\\nIndians, and which appear to be mere outbreaks of\\nnative ferocity. No sooner was the murder com-\\nmitted than the whole tribe were in consternation.\\nThey expected every day that the avenging dragoons\\nwould come, little thinking that a desert of nine\\nhundred miles lay between them and their enemy.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0325.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "294 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nA large deputation of them came to Fort Laramie,\\nbringing a valuable present of horses, in atonement.\\nThese Bordeaux refused to accept. They then asked\\nif he would be satisfied with their delivering up the\\nmurderer himself; but he declined this offer also.\\nThe Arapahoes went back more terrified than ever.\\nWeeks passed away, and still no dragoons appeared.\\nA result followed which those best acquainted with\\nIndians had predicted. They imagined that fear had\\nprevented Bordeaux from accepting their gifts, and that\\nthey had nothing to apprehend from the vengeance\\nof the whites. From terror they rose to the height\\nof insolence. They called the white men cowards and\\nold women; and a friendly Dahcotah came to Fort\\nLaramie with the report that they were determined\\nto kill the first white dog they could lay hands on.\\nHad a military officer, with suitable powers, been\\nstationed at Fort Laramie had he accepted the offer\\nof the Arapahoes to deliver up the murderer, and\\nordered him to be led out and shot, in presence of\\nhis tribe, they would have been awed into tran-\\nquillity, and much danger averted; but now the\\nneighborhood of the Medicine Bow Mountain was\\nperilous in the extreme. Old Mene-Seela, a true\\nfriend of the whites, and many other of the Indians,\\ngathered about the two trappers, and vainly endeav-\\nored to turn them from their purpose but Rouleau\\nand Saraphin only laughed at the danger. On the\\nmorning preceding that on which they were to leave\\nthe camp, we could all see faint white columns of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0326.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "THE TRAPPERS. 295\\nsmoke rising against the dark base of the Medicine\\nBow. Scouts were sent out immediately, and reported\\nthat these proceeded from an Arapahoe camp, aban-\\ndoned only a few hours before. Still the two trappers\\ncontinued their preparations for departure.\\nSaraphin was a tall, powerful fellow, with a sullen\\nand sinister countenance. His rifle had very prob-\\nably drawn other blood than that of buffalo or Indians.\\nRouleau had a broad ruddy face, marked with as\\nfew traces of thought or care as a child s. His figure\\nwas square and strong, but the first joints of both his\\nfeet were frozen off, and his horse had lately thrown\\nand trampled upon him, by which he had been\\nseverely injured in the chest. But nothing could\\nsubdue his gayety. He went all day rolling about\\nthe camp on his stumps of feet, talking, singing, and\\nfrolicking with the Indian women. Rouleau had an\\nunlucky partiality for squaws. He always had one,\\nwhom he must needs bedizen with beads, ribbons,\\nand all the finery of an Indian wardrobe and though\\nhe was obliged to leave her behind him during his\\nexpeditions, this hazardous necessity did not at all\\ntrouble him, for his disposition was the reverse of\\njealous. If at any time he had not lavished the\\nwhole of the precarious profits of his vocation upon\\nhis dark favorite, he devoted the rest to feasting his\\ncomrades. If liquor was not to be had and this\\nwas usually the case strong coffee would be sub-\\nstituted. As the men of tluit region are by no means\\nremarkable for providence or self-restraint, whatever", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0327.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "296 THE OREGOX TRAIL,\\nv/as set before them on these occasions, however\\nextravagant in price or enormous in quantity, was\\nsure to be disj)osed of at one sitting. Like other\\ntrappers. Rouleau s life was one of contrast and\\nvariety. It was only at certain seasons, and for a\\nlimited time, that he was absent on his expeditions.\\nFor the rest of the year he would lounge about the\\nfort, or encamp with his friends in its vicinity, hunt-\\ning, or enjoyiiig all the luxury of inaction; but when\\nonce in pursuit of the beaver, he was involved in\\nextreme privations and perils. Hand and foot, eye\\nand ear, must be always alert. Frequently he must\\ncontent himself with devouring his evening meal\\nuncooked, lest the light of his fire should attract the\\neyes of some wandering Indian and sometimes hav-\\ning made his rude repast, he must leave his fire still\\nblazing, and withdraw to a distance under cover of\\nthe darkness, that his disappointed enemy, drawn\\nthither by the light, may find his victim gone, and\\nbe unable to trace his footsteps in the gloom. This\\nis the life led by scores of men among the Rocky\\nMountains. I once met a trapper whose breast was\\nmarked with the scars of six bullets and arrows, one\\nof his arms broken by a shot and one of his knees\\nshattered yet still, with the mettle of New England,\\nwhence he had come, he continued to follow his\\nperilous calling.\\nOn the last day of our stay in this camp, the\\ntrappers were ready for departure. When in the\\nBlack Hills they had caught seven beavers, and they", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0328.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "THE TRAPPERS. 297\\nnow left their skins in charge of Reynal, to be kept\\nuntil their return. Their strong, gaunt horses were\\nequipped with rusty Spanish bits, and rude Mexican\\nsaddles, to which wooden stirrups were attached,\\nwhile a buffalo-robe was rolled up behind, and a\\nbundle of beaver-traps slung at the pommel. These,\\ntogether with their rifles, knives, powder-horns, and\\nbullet-pouches, flint and steel and a tin cup, composed\\ntheir whole travelling equipment. They shook hands\\nwith us, and rode away; Saraphin, with his grim\\ncountenance, was in advance but Rouleau, clamber-\\ning gayly into his seat, kicked his horse s sides,\\nflourished his whip, and trotted briskly over the\\nprairie, trolling forth a Canadian song at the top of\\nhis voice. Reynal looked after them with his face of\\nbrutal selfishness.\\nWell, he said, if they arc killed, I shall have\\nthe beaver. They 11 fetch me fifty dollars at the\\nfort, anyhow.\\nThis was the last I saw of them.\\nWe had been five days in the hunting-camp, and\\nthe meat, which all this time had hung drying in the\\nsun, was now fit for transportation. Buffalo-hides\\nalso had been procured in sufficient quantities for\\nmaking the next season s lodges but it remained to\\nprovide the long poles on which they were to be sup-\\nported. These were only to be had among the tall\\nspruce woods of the Black Hills, and in that direc-\\ntion therefore our next move was to be made. Amid\\nthe general abundance which during this time had", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0329.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "298 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nprevailed in tlie camp, there were no instances of\\nindividual privation; for although the hide and the\\ntongue of the buffalo belong by exclusive right to the\\nhunter who has killed it, yet any one else is equally\\nentitled to help himself from the rest of the carcass.\\nThus the weak, the aged, and even the indolent\\ncome in for a share of the spoils, and many a helpless\\nold woman, who would otherwise perish from starva-\\ntion, is sustained in abundance.\\nOn the twentj -fifth of July, late in the afternoon,\\nthe camp broke up, with the usual tumult and con-\\nfusion, and we all moved once more, on horseback\\nand on foot, over the plains. We advanced, however,\\nbut a few miles. The old men, who during the\\nwhole march had been stoutly striding along on foot\\nin front of the people, now seated themselves in a\\ncircle on the ground, while the families, erecting\\ntheir lodges in the prescribed order around them,\\nformed the usual great circle of the camp; mean-\\nwhile these village patriarchs sat smoking and talk-\\ning. I threw my bridle to Raymond, and sat down\\nas usual along with them. There was none of that\\nreserve and apparent dignity which an Indian always\\nassumes when in council, or in the presence of white\\nmen whom he distrusts. The party, on the contrary,\\nwas an extremely merry one, and as in a social circle\\nof a quite different character, if there was not much\\nwit, there was at least a great deal of laughter.\\nWhen the first pipe was smoked out, I rose and\\nwithdrew to the lodge of my host. Here I was stoop-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0330.jp2"}, "327": {"fulltext": "THE TRAPPERS. 299\\ning, in the act of taking off my powder-horn and\\nbullet-pouch, when suddenly, and close at hand, peal-\\ning loud and shrill, and in right good earnest, came\\nthe terrific yell of the war-whoop. Kongra-Tonga s\\nsquaAV snatched up her youngest child, and ran out\\nof the lodge. I followed, and found the whole vil-\\nlage in confusion, resounding with cries and yells.\\nThe circle of old men in the centre had vanished.\\nThe warriors, with glittering eyes, came darting,\\nweapons in hand, out of the low openings of the\\nlodges, and running Avith wild yells towards the\\nfarther end of the village. Advancing a few rods in\\nthat direction, I saw a crowd in furious agitation.\\nJust then I distinguished the voices of Raymond and\\nReynal, shouting to me from a distance, and, looking\\nback, I saw the latter with his rifle in his hand,\\nstanding on the farther bank of a little stream that\\nran along the outskirts of the camp. He was calling\\nto Raymond and me to come over and join him, and\\nRaymond, with his usual deliberate gait and stolid\\ncountenance, was already moving in that direction.\\nThis was clearly the wisest course, unless we\\nwished to involve ourselves in the fray; so I turned\\nto go, but just then a pair of eyes, gleaming like a\\nsnake s, and an aged familiar countenance was thrust\\nfrom the opening of a neighboring lodge, and out\\nbolted old Mene-Seela, full of fight, clutching his\\nbow and arrows in one hand and his knife in the\\nother. At that instant he tripped and fell sprawl-\\ning on his face, while his weapons flew scattering in", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0331.jp2"}, "328": {"fulltext": "300 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nevery direction. The women with loud screams were\\nhurrying with their children in their arms to place\\nthem out of danger, and I observed some hastening\\nto prevent mischief, by carrying away all the weapons\\nthey could lay hands on. On a rising ground close\\nto the camp stood a line of old women singing a\\nmedicine-song to allay the tumult. As I approached\\nthe side of the brook, I heard gun-shots behind me,\\nand, turning back, saw that the crowd had separated\\ninto two long lines of naked warriors confronting\\neach other at a respectful distance, and yelling and\\njumping about to dodge the shot of their adversaries,\\nwhile they discharged bullets and arrows against\\neach other. At the same time certain sharp, hum-\\nming sounds in the air over my head, like the flight\\nof beetles on a summer evening, warned me that the\\ndanger was not wholly confined to the immediate\\nscene of the fray. So wading through the brook, I\\njoined Reynal and Raymond, and we sat down on the\\ngrass, in the posture of an armed neutrality, to watch\\nthe result.\\nHappily it may be for ourselves, though contrary\\nto our expectation, the disturbance was quelled\\nalmost as soon as it began. When I looked again,\\nthe combatants were once more mingled together in a\\nmass. Though yells sounded occasionally from the\\nthrong, the firing had entirely ceased, and I observed\\nfive or six persons moving busily about, as if acting\\nthe part of peace-makers. One of the village heralds\\nor criers proclaimed in a loud voice something which", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0332.jp2"}, "329": {"fulltext": "THE TRAPPERS. 801\\nmy two companions were too much engrossed in their\\nown observations to translate for me. The crowd\\nbegan to disperse, though many a deep-set black eye\\nstill glittered with an unnatural lustre, as the war-\\nriors slowly withdrew to their lodges. This fortunate\\nsuppression of the disturbance was owing to a few of\\nthe old men, less pugnacious than Mene-Seela, who\\nboldly ran in between the combatants, and aided by\\nsome of the soldiers, or Indian police, succeeded\\nin effecting their object.\\nIt seemed very strange to me that although many\\narrows and bullets were discharged, no one was\\nmortally hurt, and I could only account for this by\\nthe fact that both the marksman and the object of his\\naim were leaping about incessantly. By far the\\ngreater part of the villagers had joined in the fray,\\nfor although there were not more than a dozen guns\\nin the whole camp, I heard at least eight or ten shots\\nfired.\\nIn a quarter of an hour all was comparatively quiet.\\nA group of warriors was again seated in the middle\\nof the village, but this time I did not venture to\\njoin them, because I could see that the pipe, contrary\\nto the usual order, was passing from the left hand to\\nthe right around the circle a sure sign that a medi-\\ncine-smoke of reconciliation was going forward, and\\nthat a white man would be an intruder. When I\\nagain entered the still agitated camp it was nearly\\ndark, and mournful cries, howls, and wailings re-\\nsounded from many female voices. Whether these", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0333.jp2"}, "330": {"fulltext": "302 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhad any connection with the late disturbance, or\\nwere merely lamentations for relatives slain in\\nsome former war expeditions, I could not distinctly\\nascertain.\\nTo inquire too closely into the cause of the quarrel\\nwas by no means prudent, and it was not until some\\ntime after that I discovered what had given rise to it.\\nAmong the Dahcotah there are many associations or\\nfraternities, superstitious, warlike, or social. Among\\nthem was one called The Arrow-Breakers, now in\\ngreat measure disbanded and dispersed. In the vil-\\nlage there were, however, four men belonging to it,\\ndistinguished by the peculiar arrangement of their\\nhair, which rose in a high bristling mass above their\\nforeheads, adding greatly to their apparent height,\\nand giving them a most ferocious appearance. The\\nprincipal among them was the Mad Wolf, a warrior\\nof remarkable size and strength, great courage, and\\nthe fierceness of a demon. I had always looked upon\\nhim as the most dangerous man in the village and\\nthough he often invited me to feasts, I never entered\\nhis lodge unarmed. The Mad Wolf had taken a fancy\\nto a fine horse belonging to another Indian, called the\\nTall Bear; and anxious to get the animal into his\\npossession, he made the owner a present of another\\nhorse nearly equal in value. According to the cus-\\ntoms of the Dahcotah, the acceptance of this gift\\ninvolved a sort of obligation to make a return and\\nthe Tall Bear well understood that the other had his\\nfavorite buffalo-horse in view. He, however, accepted", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0334.jp2"}, "331": {"fulltext": "THE TRAPPERS. 803\\nthe present without a word of thanks, and, having\\npicketed the horse before his h^dge, suffered day after\\nday to pass Avithout making the expected return.\\nThe Mad Wolf grew impatient; and at last, seeing\\nthat his bounty was not likely to produce the desired\\nresult, he resolved to reclaim it. So this evening, as\\nsoon as the village was encamped, he went to the\\nlodge of the Tall Bear, seized upon the horse he had\\ngiven him, and led him away. At this the Tall Bear\\nbroke into one of those fits of sullen rage not uncom-\\nmon among Indians, ran up to the unfortunate horse,\\nand gave him three mortal stabs with his knife.\\nQuick as lightning, the Mad Wolf drew his bow to\\nits utmost tension, and held the arrow quivering close\\nto the breast of his adversary. The Tall Bear, as\\nthe Indians who were near him said, stood with his\\nbloody knife in his hand, facing the assailant with\\nthe utmost calmness. Some of his friends and rela-\\ntives, seeing his danger, ran hastily to his assistance.\\nThe remaining three Arrow-Breakers, on the other\\nhand, came to the aid of their associate. Their\\nfriends joined them, the war-cry was raised, and the\\ntumult became general.\\nThe soldiers, who lent their timely aid in put-\\nting it down, are the most important executive func-\\ntionaries in an Indian village. The office is one of\\nconsiderable honor, being confided only to men of\\ncourage and repute. They derive their authority\\nfrom the old men and chief warriors of the village,\\nwho elect them in councils occasionally convened for", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0335.jp2"}, "332": {"fulltext": "S04 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe purpose, and thus can exercise a degree of author-\\nity which no one else in the vilhige would dare to\\nassume. While very few Ogillallah chiefs could\\nventure without risk of their lives to strike or lay\\nhands upon the meanest of their people, the soldiers,\\nin the discharge of their appropriate functions, have\\nfull license to make use of these and similar acts of\\ncoercion.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0336.jp2"}, "333": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XVII.\\nTHE BLACK HILLS.\\nWe travelled eastward for two days, and then the\\ngloomy ridges of the Black Hills rose up before us.\\nThe village passed along for some miles beneath their\\ndeclivities, trailing out to a great length over the\\narid prairie, or winding among small detached hills\\nof distorted shapes. Turning sharply to the left, v/e\\nentered a wide defile of the mountains, down the\\nbottom of which a brook came winding, lined with\\ntall grass and dense copses, amid which were hidden\\nmany beaver dams and lodges. We passed along\\nbetween two lines of high precipices and rocks piled\\nin disorder one upon another, with scarcely a tree, a\\nbush, or a clump of grass. The restless Indian boys\\nwandered along their edges and clambered up and\\ndown their rugged sides, and sometimes a group of\\nthem would stand on the verge of a cliff and look\\ndown on the procession as it passed beneath. As we\\nadvanced, the passage grew more narrow; then it\\nsuddenly expanded into a round grassy meadow,\\ncompletely encompassed by mountains and here the\\nfamilies stopped as they came up in turn, and the\\ncamp rose like magic.\\n20", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0337.jp2"}, "334": {"fulltext": "306 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThe lodges were hardly pitched when, with their\\nusual precipitation, the Indians set about accomplish-\\ning the object that had brought them there that is,\\nobtaining poles for their new lodges. Half the popu-\\nlation, men, women, and boys, mounted their horses\\nand set out for the depths of the mountains. It was\\na strange cavalcade, as they rode at full gallop over\\nthe shingly rocks and into the dark opening of the\\ndefile beyond. We passed between precipices, sharp\\nand splintering at the tops, their sides beetling over\\nthe defile or descending in abrupt declivities, brist-\\nling with fir-trees. On our left they rose close to us\\nlike a wall, but on the right a winding brook with a\\nnarrow strip of marshy soil intervened. The stream\\nwas clogged with old beaver-dams, and spread fre-\\nquently into wide pools. There were thick bushes\\nand many dead and blasted trees along its course,\\nthough frequently nothing remained but stumps cut\\nclose to the ground by the beaver, and marked Avith\\nthe sharp chisel-like teeth of those indefatigable\\nlaborers. Sometimes we dived among trees, and then\\nemerged upon open spots, over which, Indian-like,\\nall galloped at full speed. As Pauline bounded over\\nthe rocks I felt her saddle-girth slipping, and alighted\\nto draw it tighter; when the whole cavalcade swept\\npast me in a moment, the women with their gaudy\\nornaments tinkling as they rode, the men whooping,\\nlaughing, and lashing forward their horses. Two\\nblack-tailed deer bounded away among the rocks;\\nRaymond shot at them from horseback; the sharp", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0338.jp2"}, "335": {"fulltext": "THE BLACK HILLS. 307\\nreport of his rifle was answered by another equally\\nsharp from the opposing cliffs, and then the echoes,\\nleaping in rapid succession from side to side, died\\naway rattling far amid the mountains.\\nAfter having ridden in this manner six or eight\\nmiles, the scene changed, and all the declivities were\\ncovered with forests of tall, slender S2)ruce--trees.\\nThe Indians began to fall off to the right and left,\\ndispersing with their hatchets and knives to cut the\\npoles wdiich they had come to seek. I was soon left\\nalmost alone; but in the stillness of those lonely\\nmountains, the stroke of hatchets and the sound of\\nvoices might be heard from far and near.\\nReynal, who imitated the Indians in their habits\\nas well as the worst features of their character, had\\nkilled buffalo enough to make a lodge for himself and\\nhis squaw, and now he was eager to get the poles\\nnecessary to complete it. He asked me to let Ray-\\nmond go with him, and assist in the work. I assented,\\nand the two men immediately entered the thickest\\npart of the wood. Having left my horse in Raymond s\\nkeeping, I began to climb the mountain. I was weak\\nand weary, and made slow progress, often pausing to\\nrest, but after an hour, I gained a height whence the\\nlittle valley out of which I had climbed seemed like\\na deep, dark gulf, though the inaccessible peak of\\nthe mountain was still towering to a much greater\\ndistance above. Objects familiar from childhood\\nsurrounded me crags and rocks, a black and sullen\\nbrook that gurgled with a hollow voice deep among", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0339.jp2"}, "336": {"fulltext": "308 THE OREGOX TRAIL.\\nthe crevices, a wood of mossy distorted trees and\\nprostrate trunks flung down by age and storms, scat-\\ntered among tlie rocks, or damming the foaming\\nwaters of the brook.\\nWild as they were, these mountains were thickly\\npeopled. As I climbed farther, I found the broad\\ndusty paths made by the elk, as they filed across the\\nmountain-side. The grass on all the terraces was\\ntrampled down by deer; there were numerous tracks\\nof wolves, and in some of the rougher and more pre-\\ncipitous parts of the ascent, I found footprints dif-\\nferent from any that I had ever seen, and which I\\ntook to be those of the Rocky Mountain sheep. I\\nsat down upon a rock there was a perfect stillness.\\nNo wind was stirring, and not even an insect could\\nbe heard. I remembered the danger of becoming\\nlost in such a place, and fixed my eye upon one of\\nthe tallest pinnacles of the opposite mountain. It\\nrose sheer upright from the woods below, and, by an\\nextraordinary freak of nature, sustained aloft on its\\nvery summit a large loose rock. Such a landmark\\ncould never be mistaken, and, feeling once more\\nsecure, I began again to move forward. A white\\nwolf jumped up from among some bushes, and leaped\\nclumsil}^ away; but he stopped for a moment, and\\nturned back his keen eye and grim bristling muzzle.\\nI longed to take his scalp and carry it back with me,\\nas a trophy of the Black Hills, but before I could\\nfire, he was gone among the rocks. Soon after I\\nheard a rustling sound, with a cracking of twigs at", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0340.jp2"}, "337": {"fulltext": "THE BLACK HILLS. 309\\na little distance, and saw moving above the tall\\nbushes the branching antlers of an elk. I was in the\\nmidst of a hunter s paradise.\\nSuch are the Black Hills, as I found them in July\\nbut they wear a different garb when winter sets in,\\nwhen the broad boughs of the hr-trees are bent to the\\nground by the load of snow, and the dark mountains\\nare white with it. At that season the trappers,\\nreturned from their autumn expeditions, often build\\ntheir cabins in the midst of these solitudes, and live\\nin abundance and luxury on the game that harbors\\nthere. I have heard them tell, how with their tawny\\nmistresses, and perhaps a few young Indian com-\\npanions, they had spent months in total seclusion.\\nThey would dig pitfalls, and set traps for the white\\nwolves, sables, and martens, and though through the\\nwhole night the awful chorus of the wolves would\\nresound from the frozen mountains around them, yet\\nwithin their massive walls of logs they would lie in\\ncareless ease before the blazing fire, and in the morn-\\ning shoot the elk and deer from their very door.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0341.jp2"}, "338": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XVIII.\\nA MOUNTAIN HUNT.\\nThe camp was full of the newly-cut lodge-poles:\\nsome, already prepared, were stacked together, white\\nand glistening, to dry and harden in the sun others\\nwere lying on the ground, and the squaws, the boys,\\nand even some of the warriors, were busily at work\\npeeling off the bark and paring them with their\\nknives to the proper dimensions. Most of the hides\\nobtained at the last camp were dressed and scraped\\nthin enough for use, and many of the squaws were\\nengaged in fitting them together and sewing them\\nwith sinews, to form the coverings for the lodges.\\nMen were wandering among the bushes that lined\\nthe brook along the margin of the camp, cutting\\nsticks of red willow, or shongsasha, the bark of\\nwhich, mixed with tobacco, they use for smoking.\\nReynal s squaw was hard at work with her awl and\\nbuffalo sinews upon her lodge, while her proprietor,\\nhaving just finished an enormous breakfast of meat,\\nwas smoking a social pipe with Raymond and myself.\\nHe proposed at length that we should go out on a\\nhunt. Go to the Big Crow s lodge, said he, and\\nget your rifle. I 11 bet the gray Wyandot pony", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0342.jp2"}, "339": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 311\\nagainst your mare that we start an elk or a black-\\ntailed deer, or likely as not, a big-horn before we are\\ntwo miles out of camp. I 11 take my squaw s old\\nyellow horse; you can t whip her more than four\\nmiles an hour, but she is as good for the mountains\\nas a mule.\\nI mounted the black mule which Raymond usually\\nrode. She was a powerful animal, gentle and man-\\nageable enough by nature but of late her temper had\\nbeen soured by misfortune. About a v/eek before, I\\nhad chanced to offend some one of the Indians, who\\nout of revenge went secretly into the meadow and\\ngave her a severe stab in the haunch with his knife.\\nThe wound, though partially healed, still galled her\\nextremely, and made her even more perverse and\\nobstinate than the rest of her species.\\nThe morning was a glorious one, and I was in\\nbetter health than I had been at any time for the last\\ntwo months. We left the little valley and ascended\\na rocky hollow in the mountain. Very soon we were\\nout of sight of the camp, and of every living thing,\\nman, beast, bird, or insect. I had never before,\\nexcept on foot, passed over such execrable ground,\\nand I desire never to repeat the experiment. The\\nblack mule grew indignant, and even the redoubtable\\nyellow horse stumbled every moment, and kept groan-\\ning to himself as he cut his feet and legs among the\\nsharp rocks.\\nIt was a scene of silence and desolation. Little\\nwas visible except beetling crags and the bare shingly", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0343.jp2"}, "340": {"fulltext": "312 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nsides of the mountains, relieved by scarcely a trace of\\nvegetation. At length, however, we came upon a forest\\ntract, and had no sooner done so than Ave heartily\\nwished ourselves back among the rocks again; for\\nwe were on a steep descent, among trees so thick that\\nwe could see scarcely a rod in any direction.\\nIf one is anxious to place himself in a situation\\nwhere the hazardous and the ludicrous are combined\\nin about equal proportions, let him get upon a vicious\\nmule, with a snaffle bit, and try to drive her through\\nthe woods down a slope of forty-five degrees. Let\\nhim have a long rifle, a buckskin frock with long\\nfringes, and a head of long hair. These latter ap-\\nj)endages will be caught every moment and twitched\\naway in small portions by the twigs, which will also\\nwhip him smartly across the face, while the large\\nbranches above thump him on the head. His mule, if\\nshe be a true one, will alternately stop short and dive\\nviolently forward, and his positions uj^on her back\\nwill be somewhat diversified. At one time he will\\nclasp her affectionately, to avoid the blow of a bough\\noverhead; at another, he will throw himself back and\\nfling his knee forward against her neck, to keep it\\nfrom being crushed between the rough bark of a tree\\nand the ribs of the animal. Reynal v/as cursing in-\\ncessantly during the whole way down. Neither of us\\nhad the remotest idea where we were going; and\\nthough I have seen rough riding, I shall always retain\\nan evil recollection of that five minutes scramble.\\nAt last we left our troubles behind us, emerging", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0344.jp2"}, "341": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 313\\ninto the channel of a brook that circied along the\\nfoot of the descent; and here, turning joyfully to\\nthe left, we rode at ease over the white pebbles and\\nthe rippling water, shaded from the glaring sun b}^\\nan overarching green transparency. These halcyon\\nmoments were of short duration. The friendly brook,\\nturning sharply to one side, Avent brawliiig and foam-\\ning down the rocky hill into an abyss, which, as far\\nas we could see, had no bottom; so once more we\\nbetook ourselves to the detested woods. When next\\nwe came out from their shadow and sunlight, we\\nfound ourselves standing in the broad glare of day,\\non a bigh, jutting point of the mountain. Before us\\nstretched a long, wide, desert valley, winding away\\nfar amid the mountains. Reynal gazed intently he\\nbegan to speak at last:\\nMany a time, when I was with the Indians, I\\nhave been hunting for gold all through the Black\\nHills. There s plenty of it here you may be certain\\nof that. I have dreamed about it fifty times, and I\\nnever dreamed yet but what it came out true. Look\\nover yonder at those black rocks piled up against\\nthat other big rock. Don t it look as if there might\\nbe something there? It won t do for a white man\\nto be rummaging too much about these mountains;\\nthe Indians say they are full of bad spirits; and I\\nbeheve myself that it s no good luck to be hunting\\nabout here after gold. Well, for all that, I would\\nlike to have one of those fellows up here, from down\\nbelow, to go about with his witch-hazel red, and I 11", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0345.jp2"}, "342": {"fulltext": "314 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nguarantee that it would not be long before he would\\nlight on a gold mine. Never mind; we ll let the\\ngold alone for to-day. Look at those trees down\\nbelow us in the hollow; we 11 go down there, and I\\nreckon we ll get a black-tailed deer.\\nBut Reynal s predictions were not verified. We\\npassed mountain after mountain, and valley after\\nvalley; we explored deep ravines; yet still, to my\\ncompanion s vexation and evident surprise, no game\\ncould be found. So, in the absence of better, we\\nresolved to go out on the plains and look for an ante-\\nlope. With this view we began to pass down a\\nnarrow valley, the bottom of which was covered with\\nthe stiff wild-sage bushes, and marked with deep\\npaths, made by the buffalo, who, for some inexplicable\\nreason, are accustomed to penetrate, in their long,\\ngrave processions, deep among the gorges of these\\nsterile mountains.\\nReynal s eye ranged incessantly among the rocks\\nand along the edges of the precipices, in hopes of\\ndiscovering the mountain-sheep peering down upon\\nus from that giddy elevation. Nothing was visible\\nfor some time. At length we both detected some-\\nthing in motion near the foot of one of the mountains,\\nand a moment afterwards a black-tailed deer stood\\ngazing at us from the top of a rock, and then, slowly\\nturning away, disappeared behind it. In an instant\\nReynal was out of his saddle, and running towards\\nthe spot. I, being too weak to follow, sat holding\\nhis horse and waiting the result. I lost sight of him", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0346.jp2"}, "343": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 315\\nthen heard the report of his rifle deadened among\\nthe rocks, and finally saw him reappear, with a surly\\nlook, that plainly betrayed his ill success. Again we\\nmoved forward down the long valley, when soon after\\nwe came full upon what seemed a wide and very\\nshallow ditch, incrusted at the bottom with white\\nclay, dried and cracked in the sun. Under this fair\\noutside Reynal s eye detected the signs of lurking\\nmischief. He called to me to stop, and then alight-\\ning, picked up a stone and threw it into the ditch.\\nTo my amazement it fell with a dull splash, breaking\\nat once through the thin crust, and spattering round\\nthe hole a yellowish creamy fluid, into which it sank\\nand disappeared. A stick, five or six feet long, lay\\non the ground, and with this we sounded the insidious\\nabyss close to its edge. It was just possible to touch\\nthe bottom. Places like this are numerous among\\nthe Rocky IMountains. The buffalo, in his blind and\\nheedless walk, often plunges into them unawares.\\nDown he sinks; one snort of terror, one convulsive\\nstruggle, and the slime calmly flows above his shaggy\\nhead, the languid undulations of its sleek and placid\\nsurface alone betraying how the powerful monster\\nwrithes in his death-throes below.\\nWe found after some trouble a point where we\\ncould pass the abyss, and now the valley began to\\nopen upon plains which spread to the horizon before\\nus. On one of their distant swells we discerned\\nthree or four black specks, which Reynal pronounced\\nto be buffalo.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0347.jp2"}, "344": {"fulltext": "316 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nCome, said he, we must get one of tliem. My\\nsquaw wants more sinews to finish her lodge with,\\nand I want some glue myself.\\nHe immediately put the yellow horse to such a\\ngallop as he was capable of executing, while I set\\nspurs to the mule, who soon far outran her plebeian\\nrival. When we had galloped a mile or more, a large\\nrabbit, by ill-luck, sprang up just under the feet of\\nthe mule, who bounded violently aside in full career.\\nWeakened as I was, I was flung forcibly to the\\nground, and my rifle, falling close to my head, went\\noff with the shock. Its sharp, spiteful report rang\\nfor some moments in my ear. Being slightly stunned,\\nI lay for an instant motionless, and Reynal, supposing\\nme to be shot, rode up and began to curse the mule.\\nSoon recovering myself, I arose, picked up the rifle,\\nand anxiously examined it. It was badly injured.\\nThe stock was cracked, and the main screw broken,\\nso that the lock had to be tied in its place with a\\nstring yet happily it was not rendered totally unser-\\nviceable. I wiped it out, reloaded it, and handing it\\nto Reynal, who meanwhile had caught the nuile and\\nled her up to me, I mounted again. No sooner had\\nI done so, than the brute began to rear and plunge\\nwith extreme violence; but being now well prepared\\nfor her, and free from encumbrance, I soon reduced\\nher to submission. Then taking the rifle again from\\nReynal, we galloped forward as before.\\nWe were now free of the mountains and riding\\nfar out on the broad prairie. The buffalo were still", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0348.jp2"}, "345": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 317\\nsome tv/o miles in advance of us. When \\\\vc came\\nnear them, we stopped where a gentle ell of the\\nplain concealed us, and while I held his h 50, Reynal\\nran forward with his rifle, till I lost sight of him\\nbeyond the rising ground. A few minutes elapsed:\\nI heard the report of his piece, and saw the buffalo\\nrunning away, at full speed on the right immediately\\nafter, the hunter himself, unsuccessful as before,\\ncame up and mounted his horse in excessive ill-\\nhumor. He cursed the Black Hills and the buffalo,\\nswore that he was a good hunter, which indeed was\\ntrue, and that he had never been out before among\\nthose mountains without killing two or three deer at\\nleast.\\nWe now turned towards the distant encampment.\\nAs we rode along, antelope in considerable numbers\\nwere flying lightly in all directions over the plain,\\nbut not one of them would stand and be shot at.\\nWhen we reached the foot of the mountain-ridge that\\nlay between us and the village, we were too impa-\\ntient to take the smooth and circuitous route; so\\nturning short to the left, we drove our wearied\\nanimals upward among the rocks. Still more ante-\\nlope were leaping about among these flinty hillsides.\\nEach of us shot at one, though from a great distance,\\nand each missed his mark. At length we reached\\nthe summit of the last ridge. Looking down we saw\\nthe bustling camp in the valley at our feet, and\\ningloriously descended to it. As we rode among the\\nlodges, the Indians looked in vain for the fresh meat", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0349.jp2"}, "346": {"fulltext": "318 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthat should have hung behind our saddles, and the\\nsquaws uttered various suppressed ejaculations, to\\nthe great indignation of Reynal. Our mortification\\nwas increased when we rode up to his lodge. Here\\nwe saw his young Indian relative, the Hail-Storm,\\nhis light graceful figure reclining on the ground in\\nan easy attitude, while with his friend The Rabbit,\\nwho sat by his side, he was making an abundant\\nmeal from a wooden bowl of \u00e2\u0096\u00a0ivasna, which the squaw\\nhad placed between them. Near him lay the fresh\\nskin of a female elk, which he had just killed among\\nthe mountains, only a mile or two from the camp.\\nNo doubt the boy s heart was elated with triumph,\\nbut he betrayed no sign of it. He even seemed\\ntotally unconscious of our approach, and his hand-\\nsome face had all the tranquillity of Indian self-\\ncontrol, a self-control which prevents the exhibition\\nof emotion without restraining the emotion itself. It\\nwas about two months since I had known the Hail-\\nStorm, and within that time his character had remark-\\nably developed. When I first saw^ him, he was just\\nemerging from the habits and feelings of the boy\\ninto the ambition of the hunter and warrior. He had\\nlately killed his first deer, and this had excited his\\naspirations for distinction. Since that time he had\\nbeen continually in search of game, and no young\\nhunter in the village had been so active or so fortu-\\nnate as he. All this success had produced a marked\\nchange in his character. As I first remembered him,\\nhe always shunned the society of the young squaws,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0350.jp2"}, "347": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 319\\nand was extremely bashful and sheepish in their\\npresence but now, in the confidence of his new repu-\\ntation, he began to assume the airs and arts of a man\\nof gallantry. He wore his red blanket dashingly over\\nhis left shoulder, painted his cheeks every day with\\nvermilion, and hung pendants of shells in his ears.\\nIf I observed aright, he met with very good success\\nin his new pursuits; still the Hail-Storm had much\\nto accomplish before he attained the full standing of\\na warrior. Gallantly as he began to bear himself\\namong the women and girls, he was still timid and\\nabashed in the presence of the chiefs and old men;\\nfor he had never yet killed a man, or stricken the\\ndead body of an enemy in battle. I have no doubt\\nthat the handsome, smooth-faced boy burned with\\ndesire to flesh his maiden scalping-knife, and I would\\nnot have encamped alone with him without watching\\nhis movements with a suspicious eye.\\nHis elder brother, The Horse, was of a different\\ncharacter. He was nothing but a lazy dandy. He\\nknew very well how to hunt, but preferred to live by\\nthe hunting of others. He had no appetite for dis-\\ntinction, and the Hail-Storm already surpassed him\\nin reputation. He had a dark and ugly face, and\\npassed a great part of his time in adorning it with\\nvermilion, and contemplating it by means of a little\\npocket looking-glass which I had given him. As for\\nthe rest of the day, he divided it between eating,\\nsleeping, and sitting in the sun on the outside of a\\nlodge. Here he would remain for hour after hour,", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0351.jp2"}, "348": {"fulltext": "320 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\narrayed in all his finery, with au old dragoon s sword\\nin his hand, evidently flattering himself that he was\\nthe centre of attraction to the eyes of the surrounding\\nsquaws. Yet he sat looking straight forward with a\\nface of the utmost gravity, as if wrapped in profound\\nmeditation, and it was only by the occasional side-\\nlong glances which he shot at his supjDOsed admirers\\nthat one could detect the true course of his thoughts.\\nBoth he and his brother may represent classes in\\nthe Indian community: neither should the Hail-\\nStorm s friend. The Rabbit, be passed by without\\nnotice. The Hail-Storm and he were inseparable:\\nthey ate, slept, and hunted together, and shared\\nwith one another almost all that they possessed. If\\nthere be anything that deserves to be called romantic\\nin the Indian character, it is to be sought for in\\nfriendships such as this, which are common among\\nmany of the prairie tribes.\\nSlowly, hour after hour, that weary afternoon\\ndragged away. I lay in Reynal s lodge, overcome\\nby the listless torpor that pervaded the encampment.\\nThe day s work was finished, or if it were not, the\\ninhabitants had resolved not to finish it at all, and\\nwere dozing quietly within the shelter of the lodges.\\nA profound lethargy, the very spirit of indolence,\\nseemed to have sunk upon the village. Now and\\nthen I could hear the low laughter of some girl from\\nwithin a neighboring lodge, or the small shrill voices\\nof a few restless children, who alone were moving in\\nthe deserted area. The spirit of the place infected", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0352.jp2"}, "349": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 321\\nrae; I could not think consecutively; I was fit only\\nfor musing and revery, when at last, like the rest, I\\nfell asleep.\\nWhen evening came, and the fires were lighted\\nround the lodges, a select family circle convened in\\nthe neighborhood of Reynal s domicile. It was com-\\nposed entirely of his squaw s relatives, a mean and\\nignoble clan, among whom none but the Hail-Storm\\nheld forth any promise of future distinction. Even\\nhis prospects were rendered not a little dubious by\\nthe character of the family, less, however, from any\\nprinciple of aristocratic distinction than from the\\nwant of powerful supporters to assist him in his\\nundertakings, and help to avenge his quarrels.\\nRaymond and I sat down along with them. There\\nwere eight or ten men gathered around the fire,\\ntogether with about as many women, old and young,\\nsome of whom were tolerably good-looking. As the\\npipe passed round among the men, a lively conversa-\\ntion went forward, more meriy than delicate, and at\\nlength two or three of the elder women (for the girls\\nwere somewhat diffident and bashful) began to assail\\nRaymond with various pungent witticisms. Some of\\nthe men took part, and an old squaw concluded by\\nbestowing on him a ludicrous and indecent nickname,\\nat which a general laugh followed at his expense.\\nRaymond grinned and giggled, and made several\\nfutile attempts at repartee. Knowing the impolicy\\nand even danger of suffering myself to be placed in\\na ludicrous light among the Indians, I maintained\\n21", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0353.jp2"}, "350": {"fulltext": "B22 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\na rigid, inflexible countenance, and wholly escaped\\ntheir sallies.\\nIn tlie morning I found, to my great disgust, that\\nthe camp was to retain its position for another day.\\nI dreaded its languor and monotony, and, to escape\\nit, set out to explore the surrounding mountains. I\\nwas accompanied by a faithful friend, my rifle, the\\nonly friend indeed on whose prompt assistance in\\ntime of trouble I could wholly rely. Most of the\\nIndians in the village, it is true, professed good-will\\ntowards the whites, but the experience of others and\\nmy own observation had taught me the extreme folly\\nof confidence, and the utter impossibility of foreseeing\\nto what sudden acts the strange, unbridled impulses\\nof an Indian may urge him. When among this\\npeople danger is never so near as when you are\\nunprepared for it, never so remote as when you are\\narmed and on the alert to meet it at any moment.\\nNothing offers so strong a temptation to their fero-\\ncious instincts as the appearance of timidity, weak-\\nness, or securit3\\\\\\nMany deep and gloomy gorges, choked with trees\\nand bushes, opened from the sides of the hills, which\\nwere shaggy with forests wherever the rocks per-\\nmitted vegetation to spring. A great number of\\nIndians were stalking along the edges of the woods,\\nand boys were whooping and laughing on the moun-\\ntains, practising eye and hand, and indulging their\\ndestructive propensities by killing birds and small\\nanimals with their little bows and arrows. There", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0354.jp2"}, "351": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 323\\nwas one glen, stretching up between steep cliffs far\\ninto the bosom of the mountain. I began to ascend\\nalong its bottom, pushing my way onward among the\\nrocks, trees, and bushes that obstructed it. A slender\\nthread of water trickled through it, which since issu-\\ning from the heart of its native rock could scarcely\\nhave been warmed or gladdened by a ray of sunshine.\\nAfter advancing for some time, I conceived myself\\nto be entirely alone but coming to a part of the glen\\nin a great measure free of trees and undergrowth, I\\nsaw at some distance the black head and red shoulders\\nof an Indian among the bushes above. The reader\\nneed not prepare himself for a startling adventure,\\nfor I have none to relate. The head and shoulders\\nbelonged to Mene-Seela, my best friend in the vil-\\nlage. As I had approached noiselessly with my\\nmoccasoned feet, the old man was c|uite unconscious\\nof my presence; and turning to a point where I could\\ngain an unobstructed view of him, I saw him seated\\nalone, immovable as a statue, among the rocks and\\ntrees. His face was turned upward, and his eyes\\nseemed riveted on a pine-tree springing from a cleft\\nin the precipice above. The crest of the pine was\\nswaying to and fro in the wind, and its long limbs\\nwaved slowly up and down, as if the tree had life.\\nLooking for a while at the old man, I was satisfied\\nthat he was engaged in an act of worship, or prayer,\\nor communion of some kind with a supernatural\\nbeing. I longed to penetrate his thoughts, but I\\ncould do nothing more than conjecture and speculate.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0355.jp2"}, "352": {"fulltext": "324 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nI kneAV that though the intellect of an Indian can\\nembrace the idea of an all-wise, all-powerful Spirit,\\nthe supreme Ruler of the universe, yet his mind will\\nnot always ascend into communion with a being that\\nseems to him so vast, remote, and incomprehensible;\\nand when danger threatens, when his hopes are\\nbroken, and trouble overshadows him, he is prone to\\nturn for relief to some inferior agency, less removed\\nfrom the ordinary scope of his faculties. He has a\\nguardian spirit, on whom he relies for succor and\\nguidance. To him all nature is instinct with mystic\\ninfluence. Among those mountains not a wild beast\\nwas prowling, a bird singing, or a leaf fluttering, that\\nmight not tend to direct his destiny, or give warning\\nof what was in store for him; and he watches the\\nworld of nature around him as the astrologer watches\\nthe stars. So closely is he linked with it that his\\nguardian spirit, no unsubstantial creation of the\\nfancy, is usually embodied in the form of some living\\nthing: a bear, a wolf, an eagle, or a serpent; and\\nMene-Seela, as he gazed intently on the old pine-\\ntree, might believe it to enshrine the fancied guide\\nand protector of his life.\\nWhatever was passing in the mind of the old man,\\nit was no part of good sense to disturb him. Silently\\nretracing my footsteps, I descended the glen until I\\ncame to a point where I could climb the precipices\\nthat shut it in, and gain the side of the mountain.\\nLooking up, I saw a tall peak rising among the\\nwoods. Something impelled me to climb I had not", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0356.jp2"}, "353": {"fulltext": "A MOUNTAIN HUNT. 325\\nfelt for many a day such strength and elasticity of\\nlimb. An hour and a half of slow and often inter-\\nmitted labor brought me to the very summit; and\\nemerging from the dark shadows of the rocks and\\npines, I stepped forth into the light, and walking\\nalong the sunny verge of a precipice, seated myself\\non its extreme point. Looking between the mountain-\\npeaks to the westward, the pale blue prairie was\\nstretching to the farthest horizon, like a serene and\\ntranquil ocean. The surrounding mountains were in\\nthemselves sufficiently striking and impressive, but\\nthis contrast gave redoubled effect to their stern\\nfeatures.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0357.jp2"}, "354": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XIX.\\nPASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS.\\nWhen I took leave of Shaw at La Bontd s camp,\\nI promised to meet him at Fort Laramie on the first\\nof August. The Indians, too, intended to pass the\\nmountains and move towards the fort. To do so at\\nthis point was impossible, because there was no pas-\\nsage; and in order to find one, we were obliged to\\ngo twelve or fourteen miles southward. Late in the\\nafternoon the camp got in motion. I rode in com-\\npany with three or four young Indians at the rear,\\nand the moving swarm stretched before me, in the\\nruddy light of sunset, or the deep shadow of the\\nmountains, far beyond my sight. It was an ill-\\nomened spot they chose to encamp upon. When\\nthey were there just a year before, a war-party of ten\\nmen, led by The Whirlwind s son, had gone out\\nagainst the enemy, and not one had ever returned.\\nThis was the immediate cause of this season s war-\\nlike preparations. I was not a little astonished,\\nwhen I came to the camp, at the confusion of hor-\\nrible sounds with which it was filled howls, shrieks,\\nand wailings rose from all the women present, many\\nof whom, not content with this exhibition of grief", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0358.jp2"}, "355": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 327\\nfor the loss of tlieir friends and relatives, were gash-\\ning their legs deeply with knives. A warrior in the\\nvillage, who had lost a brother in the expedition,\\nchose another mode of displaying his sorrow. The\\nIndians, who, though often rapacious, are devoid of\\navarice, will sometimes, when in mourning, or on\\nother solemn occasions, give away the whole of their\\npossessions, and reduce themselves to nakedness and\\nwant. The warrior in question led his two best\\nhorses into the middle of the village, and gave them\\naway to his friends; upon which, songs and accla-\\nmations in praise of his generosity mingled with the\\ncries of the M^omen.\\nOn the next morning we entered again among the\\nmountains. There was nothing in their appearance\\neither grand or picturesque, though they were deso-\\nlate to the last degree, being mere piles of black and\\nbroken rocks, without trees or vegetation of any kind.\\nAs we passed among them along a wide valley, I\\nnoticed Raymond riding by the side of a young\\nsquaw, to whom he was addressing various compli-\\nments. All the old squaws in the neighborhood\\nwatched his proceedings in great admiration, and the\\ngirl herself would turn aside her head and laugh.\\nJust then his mule thought proper to display her\\nvicious pranks, and began to rear and plunge most\\nfuriously. Raymond was an excellent rider, and at\\nfirst he stuck fast in his seat but the moment after,\\nI saw the mule s hind-legs flourishing in the air, and\\nmy unlucky follower pitching head foremost over her", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0359.jp2"}, "356": {"fulltext": "328 THE OKEGON TRAIL.\\nears. There was a burst of screams and laughter\\nfrom all the Avomen, in which his mistress herself\\ntook part, and Raymond was assailed by such a\\nshower of witticisms that he was glad to ride forward\\nout of hearing.\\nNot long after, as I rode near him, I heard him\\nshouting to me. lie was pointing towards a detached\\nrocky hill that stood in the middle of the valley\\nbefore us, and from behind it a long file of elk came\\nout at full speed and entered an opening in the\\nmountain. They had scarcely disappeared, when\\nwhoops and exclamations came from fifty voices\\naround me. The young men leaped from their\\nhorses, flung down their heavy buffalo-robes, and ran\\nat full speed towards the foot of the nearest moun-\\ntain. Reynal also broke away at a gallop in the same\\ndirection. Come on come on he called to us.\\nDo you see that band of big-horn up yonder If\\nthere s one of them, there s a hundred!\\nIn fact, near the summit of the mountain, I could\\nsee a large number of small white objects, moving\\nrapidly upwards among the precipices, while others\\nwere filing along its rocky profile. Anxious to see\\nthe sport, I galloped forward, and entering a passage\\nin the side of the mountain, ascended among the\\nloose rocks as far as my horse could carry me. Here\\nI fastened her to an old pine-tree. At that moment\\nRaymond called to me from the right that another\\nband of sheep was close at hand in that direction. 1\\nran up to the top of the opening, which gave me a", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0360.jp2"}, "357": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 329\\nfull view into the rocky gorge beyond; and here I\\nplainly saw some fifty or sixty sheep, almost within\\nrifle-shot, clattering upwards among the rocks, and\\nendeavoring, after their usual custom, to reach the\\nhighest point. The naked Indians bounded up lightly\\nin pursuit. In a moment the game and hunters dis-\\nappeared. Nothing could be seen or heard but tiie\\noccasional report of a gun, more and more distant,\\nreverberating among the rocks.\\nI turned to descend, and as I did so, could see\\nthe valley below alive with Indians passing rapidly\\nthrough it, on horseback and on foot. A little farther\\non, all were stopping as they came up; the camp was\\npreparing and the lodges rising. I descended to this\\nspot, and soon after Reynal and Raymond returned.\\nThey bore between them a sheep which they had\\npelted to death with stones from the edge of a ravine,\\nalong the bottom of which it was attempting to\\nescape. One by one the hunters came dropping in\\nyet such is the activity of the Rocky IMountain sheep\\nthat although sixty or seventy men were out in pur-\\nsuit, not more than half a dozen animals were killed.\\nOf these only one was a full-grown male. He had a\\npair of horns, the dimensions of which were almost\\nbeyond belief. I have seen among the Indians ladles\\nwith long handles, capable of containing more than a\\nquart, cut out from such horns.\\nThrough the whole of the next morning we were\\nmoving forward among the hills. On the following\\nday the heights closed around us, and the passage of", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0361.jp2"}, "358": {"fulltext": "330 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe mountains began in earnest. Before the village\\nleft its camping-ground, 1 set forward in company\\nv/ith the Eagle-Feather, a man of powerful frame,\\nbut with a bad and sinister face. His son, a light-\\nlimbed boy, rode with us, and another Indian, named\\nThe Panther, was also of the party. Leaving the\\nvillage out of sight behind us, we rode together up\\na rocky defile. After a while, however, the Eagle-\\nFeather discovered in the distance some appearance\\nof game, and set off with his son in pursuit of it,\\nwhile I went forward with The Panther. This was\\na mere nom de guerre; for, like many Indians, he\\nconcealed his real name out of some superstitious\\nnotion. He was a noble-looking fellow. As he\\nsuffered his ornamented buffalo-robe to fall in folds\\nabout his loins, his stately and graceful figure was\\nfully displayed; and while he sat his horse in an\\neasy attitude, the long feathers of the prairie-cock\\nfluttering from the crown of his head, he seemed the\\nvery model of a wild prairie-rider. He had not the\\nsame features with those of other Indians. Unless\\nhis face greatly belied him, he was free from the\\njealousy, suspicion, and malignant cunning of his\\npeople. For the most part, a civilized white man\\ncan discover very few points of sympathy between his\\nown nature and that of an Indian. With every dis-\\nposition to do justice to their good qualities, he must\\nbe conscious that an impassable gulf lies between\\nhim and his red brethren. Nay, so alien to himself\\ndo they appear, that, after breathing the air of the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0362.jp2"}, "359": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 331\\nprairie for a few months or weeks, he begins to look\\nupon them as a troublesome and dangerous species of\\nAvild beast. Yet, in the countenance of The Panther,\\nI gladly read that there were at least some points of\\nsympathy between him and me. We were excellent\\nfriends, and as we rode forward together through\\nrocky passages, deep dells, and little barren plains,\\nhe occupied himself very zealously in teaching me\\nthe Dahcotah language. After a while, we came to\\na grassy recess, where some gooseberry-bushes were\\ngrowing at the foot of a rock and these offered such\\ntemptation to my companion that he gave over his\\ninstructions, and stopped so long to gather the fruit,\\nthat before we were in motion again the van of the\\nvillage came in view. An old woman appeared, lead-\\ning down her pack-horse among the rocks above.\\nSavage after savage followed, and the little dell was\\nsoon crowded with the throng.\\nThat morning s march was one not to be forgotten.\\nIt led us through a sublime waste, a wilderness of\\nmountains and pine-forests, over vv^hich the spirit of\\nloneliness and silence seemed brooding. Above and\\nbelow, little could be seen but the same dark green\\nfoliage. It overspread the valleys, and enveloped\\nthe mountains, from the black rocks that crowned\\ntheir summits to the streams that circled round their\\nbase. I rode to the top of a hill whence I could look\\ndown on the savage procession as it passed beneath\\nmy feet, and, far on the loft, could see its thin and\\nbroken line, visible only at intervals, stretching away", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0363.jp2"}, "360": {"fulltext": "332 THE OREGON TEAIL.\\nfor miles among the mountains. On the farthest\\nridge, horsemen were still descending like mere\\nspecks in the distance.\\nI remained on the hill until all had passed, and\\nthen descending followed after them. A little farther\\non I found a very small meadow, set deeply among\\nsteep mountains; and here the whole village had\\nencamped. The little spot was crowded with the\\nconfused and disorderly host. Some of the lodges\\nAvere already set up, or the squaws perhaps were\\nLusy in drawing the heavy coverings of skin over the\\nbare poles. Others were as yet mere skeletons,\\nwhile others still, poles, covering, and all, lay scat-\\ntered in disorder on the ground among buffalo-robes,\\nbales of meat, domestic utensils, harness, and weapons.\\nSquaws were screaming to one another, horses rear-\\ning and plunging, dogs yelping, eager to be dis-\\nburdened of their loads, while the fluttering of feathers\\nand the gleam of savage ornaments added liveliness\\nto the scene. The small children ran about amid the\\ncrowd, while many of the boys were scrambling\\namong the overhanging rocks, and standing with\\ntheir little bows in their hands, looking down upon\\nthe restless throng. In contrast with the general\\nconfusion, a circle of old men and warriors sat in the\\nmidst, smoking in profound indifference and tranquil-\\nlity. The disorder at length subsided. The horses\\nwere driven away to feed along the adjacent valley,\\nand the camp assumed an air of listless repose. It\\nwas scarcely past noon a vast white canopy of smoke", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0364.jp2"}, "361": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 333\\nfrom a burning forest to the eastward overhung the\\nplace, and partially obscured the vnys of the sun yet\\nthe heat was almost insupportable. The lodges stood\\ncrowded together without order in the narrow space.\\nEach was a hot-house, within which the lazy pro-\\nprietor lay sleeping. The camp was silent as death.\\nNothing stirred except now and then an old woman\\npassing from lodge to lodge. The girls and young-\\nmen sat together in groups, under the pine-trees upon\\nthe surrounding heights. The dogs lay panting on\\nthe ground, too languid even to growl at the white\\nman. At the entrance of the meadow, there was a\\ncold spring among the rocks, completely overshadowed\\nby tall trees and dense undergrowth. In this cool\\nand shady retreat a number of girls were assembled,\\nsitting together on rocks and fallen logs, discussing\\nthe latest gossip of the village, or laughing and\\nthrowing water with their hands at the intruding\\nMeneaska. The minutes seemed lengthened into\\nhours. I lay for a long time under a tree studying\\nthe Ogillallah tongue, with the aid of my friend The\\nPanther. When we were both tired of this, I lay\\ndown by the side of a deep, clear pool, formed by the\\nwater of the spring. A shoal of little fishes of about\\na pin s length were playing in it, sporting together,\\nas it seemed, very amicably; but on closer observa-\\ntion, I saw tliat they were engaged in cannibal war-\\nfare among themselves. Now and then one of the\\nsmallest would fall a victim, and immediately disap-\\npear down the maw of his conqueror. Every moment,", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0365.jp2"}, "362": {"fulltext": "oo4 THE OREdON TRAIL.\\nhowever, the tja-ant of the pool, a goggle-eyed\\nmonster al)out three inches long, wonld slowly emerge\\nwith quivering fins and tail from under the shelving\\nbank. The small fry at tins would suspend their\\nhostilities, and scatter in a panic at the appearance\\nof overwhelming force.\\nSoft-hearted philanthropists, thought I, may\\nsigh long for their peaceful millennium; for, from\\nminnows to men, life is incessant war.\\nEvening ajDproached at last; the crests of the\\nmountains were still bright in sunshine, while our\\ndeep glen w^as completely shadowed. I left the\\ncamp, and climbed a neighboring hill. The sun was\\nstill glaring through the stiff pines on the ridge of\\nthe western mountain. In a moment he was gone,\\nand, as the landscape darkened, I turned again\\ntowards the village. As I descended, the howling of\\nwolves and the barking of foxes came up out of the\\ndim woods from far and near. The camp was glow-\\ning with a multitude of fires, and alive with dusky\\nnaked figures, whose tall shadows flitted, weird and\\nghost-like, among the surrounding crags.\\nI found a circle of smokers seated in their usual\\nplace that is, on the ground before the lodge of a\\ncertain warrior, who seemed to be generally known\\nfor his social qualities. I sat down to smoke a part-\\ning pipe with my savage friends. That day was the\\nfirst of August, on which I had promised to meet\\nShaw at Fort Laramie. The fort was less than two\\ndays journey distant, and that my friend need not", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0366.jp2"}, "363": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 335\\nsuTfer anxiety on my account, I resolved to push\\nforward as rapidly as possible to the place of meeting.\\nI went to look after the Hail-Storm, and having found\\nhim, I offered him a handful of haAvks -bells and\\na paper of vermilion, on condition that he would\\nguide me in the morning through the mountains.\\nThe Hail-Storm ejaculated, HowV and accepted\\nthe gift. Nothing more was said on either side;\\nthe matter was settled, and I lay down to sleep in\\nKongra-Tonga s lodge.\\nLong before daylight, Raymond shook me by the\\nshoulder.\\nEverything is ready, he said.\\nI went out. The morning was chill, damp, and\\ndark; and the whole camp seemed asleep. The\\nHail-Storm sat on horseback before the lodge, and\\nmy mare Pauline and the mule which Raymond rode\\nwere picketed near it. We saddled and made our\\nother arrangements for the journey, but before these\\nwere completed the camp began to stir, and the\\nlodge -coverings fluttered and rustled as the squaw S\\npulled them down in preparation for departure. Just\\nas the light began to appear, we left the ground,\\npassing up through a narrow opening among the\\nrocks which led eastward out of the meadow. Gain-\\ning the top of this passage, I turned and sat looking\\nback upon the camp, dindy visible in the gray light\\nof morning. All was alive with the bustle of prepa-\\nration. I turned away, half unwilling to take a final\\nleave of my savage associates. We passed among", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0367.jp2"}, "364": {"fulltext": "336 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nrocks and pine-trees so dark that for a while we\\ncould scarcely see our way. Tlie country in front\\nwas wild and broken, half hill, half plain, partly\\nopen and partly covered witli woods of pine and oak.\\nBarriers of lofty mountains encompassed it; the\\nwoods were fresh and cool in the early morning, the\\npeaks of the mountains were wreathed with mist, and\\nsluggish vapors were entangled among the forests\\nupon their sides. At length the black pinnacle of\\nthe tallest mountain was tipped with gold by the ris-\\ning sun. The Hail-Storm, who rode in front, gave a\\nlow exclamation. Some large animal leaped up from\\namong the bushes, and an elk, as I thought, his horns\\nthrown back over his neck, darted past us across\\nthe open space, and bounded like a mad thing away\\namong the adjoining pines. Raymond was soon out\\nof his saddle, but before he could fire, the animal\\nwas full two hundred yards distant. The ball struck\\nits mark, though much too low for mortal effect. The\\nelk, however, wheeled in his flight, and ran at full\\nspeed among the trees, nearly at right angles to his\\nformer course. I fired and broke his shoulder; still\\nhe moved on, limping down into a neighboring woody\\nhollow, whither the young Indian followed and killed\\nhim. When we reached the spot, w^e discovered him\\nto be no elk, but a black-tailed deer, an animal nearly\\ntwice as large as the common deer, and quite un-\\nknown in the east. The reports of the rifles had\\nreached the ears of the Indians, and several of them\\ncame to the spot. Leaving the hide of the deer to", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0368.jp2"}, "365": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUXTAINS. 337\\nthe Hail-Storm, we hung as much of the meat as\\nwe wanted behind our saddles, left the rest to the\\nIndians, and resumed our journey. Meanwhile the\\nvillage was on its way, and had gone so far that to\\nget in advance of it was impossible. We directed\\nour course so as to strike its line of march at the\\nnearest point. In a short time, through the dark\\ntrunks of the pines, we could see the figures of the\\nIndians as they passed. Once more we were among\\nthem. They were moving with even more than their\\nusual precipitation, crowded together in a narrow\\npass between rocks and old pine-trees. We were on\\nthe eastern descent of the mountain, and soon came\\nto a rough and difhcult defile, leading down a very-\\nsteep declivity. The whole swarm poured down\\ntogether, fdling the rocky passage-way like some\\nturbulent mountain-stream. The mountains before\\nus were on fire, and had been so for weeks. The\\nview in front was obscured by a vast dim sea of\\nsmoke, while on either hand rose the tall cliffs, bear-\\ning aloft their crests of pines, and the sharp pinnacles\\nand broken ridges of the mountains beyond were\\nfaintly traceable as through a veil. The scc:ic in\\nitself was grand and imposing, but with the savage\\nmultitude, the armed warriors, the naked children,\\nthe gayly apparelled girls, pouring impetuously down\\nthe heights, it would have formed a noble subject for\\na painter, and only the pen of a Scott could have\\ndone it justice in description.\\nWe passed over a burnt tract where the ground\\n22", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0369.jp2"}, "366": {"fulltext": "338 THE OREGOX TRAIL.\\nwas hot beneath the horses feet, and between the\\nblazing sides of two mountains. Before long we had\\ndescended to a softer region, where we found a suc-\\ncession of little valleys watered by a stream, along\\nthe borders of which grew abundance of wild goose-\\nberries and currants, and the children and many of\\nthe men straggled from the lino of march to gather\\nthem as we passed along. Descending still farther,\\nthe view changed rapidly. The burning mountains\\nwere behind us, and through the open valleys in\\nfront we could see the prairie, stretching like an\\nocean beyond the sight. After passing through a\\nline of trees that skirted the brook, the Indians filed\\nout upon the plains. I was thirsty and knelt down\\nby the little stream to drink. As I mounted again,\\nI very carelessly left my rifle among the grass, and,\\nmy thoughts being otherwise absorbed, I rode for\\nsome distance before discovering its absence. I lost\\nno time in turning about and galloping back in search\\nof it. Passing the line of Indians, I watched every\\nwarrior as he rode by me at a canter, and at length\\ndiscovered my rifle in the hands of one of them, who,\\non my approaching to claim it, immediately gave it\\nup. Having no other means of acknowledging the\\nobligation, I took off one of my spurs and gave it to\\nhim. He was greatly delighted, looking vipon it as\\na distinguished mark of favor, and immediately held\\nout his foot for me to buckle it on. As soon as I had\\ndone so, he struck it with all his force into the side\\nof his hoi-se, which gave a violent leap. The Indian", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0370.jp2"}, "367": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 339\\nlaughed iiiid spurred harder than before. At this the\\nhorse sliot away hke an arrow, amid the screams and\\nhiughter of the squaws, and the ejaculations of the\\nmen, who exclaimed, Washtay! Good! at the\\npotent effect of my gift. The Indian had no saddle,\\nand nothing in place of a bridle except a leather\\nstring tied round the horse s jaw. The animal was\\nof course wholly uncontrollable, and stretched away\\nat full speed over the prairie, till he and his rider\\nvanished behiiid a distant swell. I never saw the\\nman again, but I presume no harm came to him. An\\nIndian on horseback has more lives than a cat.\\nThe village encamped on the scorching prairie,\\nclose to the foot of the mountains. The heat was\\nmost intense and penetrating. Tlie coverings of the\\nlodgings were raised a foot or more from the ground,\\nin order to procure some circulation of air; and\\nReynal thought proper to lay aside his trapper s dress\\nof buckskin and assume the very scanty costume of\\nan Indian. Thus elegantly attired, he stretched him-\\nself in his lodge on a buffalo-robe, alternately cursing\\nthe heat and puffing at the pipe which he and I passed\\nbetween us. There was present also a select circle of\\nIndian friends and relatives. A small boiled puppy\\nwas served up as a parting feast, to which was added,\\nby way of dessert, a Avooden bowl of gooseberries\\nfrom the mountains.\\nLook there, said Reynal, pointing out of the\\nopening of his lodge do you see that line of buttes\\nabout fifteen miles off? Well, now do you see that", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0371.jp2"}, "368": {"fulltext": "340 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nfarthest one, with the white speck on the face of it?\\nDo you think you ever saw it before?\\nIt looks to me, said I, like the hill that we\\nwere camped under when we were on Laramie\\nCreek, six or eight weeks ago.\\nYou ve hit it, answered Reynal.\\nGo and bring in the animals, Raymond, said I;\\nwe 11 camp there to-night, and start for the fort in\\nthe morning.\\nThe mare and the mule were soon before the lodge.\\nWe saddled them, and in the mean time a number of\\nIndians collected about us. The virtues of Pauline,\\nmy strong, fleet, and hardy little mare, were well\\nknown in camp, and several of the visitors were\\nmounted upon good horses which they had brought\\nme as presents. I promptly declined their offers,\\nsince accepting them would have involved the neces-\\nsity of transferring Pauline into their barbarous hands.\\nWe took leave of Reynal, but not of the Indians,\\nAvho are accustomed to dispense with such superfluous\\nceremonies. Leaving the camp, we rode straight\\nover the prairie towards the white-faced bluff, whose\\npale ridges swelled gently against the horizon, like a\\ncloud. An Indian went witli us, whose name I for-\\nget, though the ugliness of his face and the ghastly\\nwidth of his mouth dwell vividly in my recollection.\\nThe antelope were numerous, but we did not heed\\nthem. We rode directly towards our destination,\\nover the arid plains and barren hills; until, late in\\nthe afternoon, half spent with heat, thirst, and", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0372.jp2"}, "369": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 341\\nfatigue, we saw a gladdening sight: the long line of\\ntrees and the deep gulf that mark the course of\\nLaramie Creek. Passing through the growth of\\nhuge dilapidated old cotton-wood trees that bordered\\nthe creek, we rode across to the other side. The\\nrapid and foaming waters were filled v/itli fish playing\\nand splashing in the shallows. As we gained the\\nfarther bank, our horses turned eagerly to drink, and\\nwe, kneeling on the sand, followed their example.\\nWe had not gone far before the scene began to grow\\nfamiliar.\\nWe are getting near home, Raymond, said I.\\nThere stood the big tree under which we had\\nencamped so long; there were the white cliffs that\\nused to look down upon our tent when it stood at the\\nbend of the creek; there was the meadow in which\\nour horses had grazed for weeks, and a little farther\\non, the prairie-dog village where I had beguiled\\nmany a languid hour in shooting the unfortunate\\ninhabitants.\\nWe are going to catch it now, said Raymond,\\nturning his broad face up towards the sky.\\nIn truth, the cliffs and the meadow, the stream and\\nthe groves, were darkening fast. Black masses of\\ncloud w^ere swelling up in the south, and the thunder\\nwas growling ominously.\\nWe will camp there, I said, pointing to a dense\\ngrove of trees lower down the stream. Raymond\\nand I turned towards it, but the Indian stopped and\\ncalled earnestly after us. When we demanded what", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0373.jp2"}, "370": {"fulltext": "342 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwas tlie matter, he said that the ghosts of two war-\\nriors were always among those trees, and that if we\\nslept there, they would scream and throw stones at\\nus all night, and perhaps steal our horses before\\nmorning. Thinking it as well to humor him, we\\nleft behind us the haunt of these extraordinary\\nghosts, and passed on towards Cliugwater, riding at\\nfull gallop, for the big drops began to patter down.\\nSoon we came in sight of the poplar saplings that\\ngrew about the mouth of the little stream. We\\nleaped to the ground, threw off our saddles, turned\\nour horses loose, and drawing our knives began to\\nslash among the bushes to cut twigs and branches for\\nmaking a shelter against the rain. Bending down\\nthe taller saplings as they grew, we piled the young\\nshoots upon them, and thus made a convenient pent-\\nhouse but our labor was needless. The storm scarcely\\ntouched us. Half a mile on our right the rain was\\npouring down like a cataract, and the thunder roared\\nover the prairie like a battery of cannon; while we\\nby good fortune received only a few heavy drops from\\nthe skirt of the passing cloud. The weather cleared\\nand the sun set gloriously. Sitting close under our\\nleafy canopy, we proceeded to discuss a substantial\\nmeal of ivasna which Weah Washtay had given me.\\nThe Indian had brought with him his pipe and a bag\\nof shongsasha so before lying down to sleep, we sat\\nfor some time smoking together. First, however,\\nour wide-mouthed friend had taken the precaution of\\ncarefully examining the neighborhood. He reported", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0374.jp2"}, "371": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 343\\nthat eight men, counting them on his fingers, had\\nbeen encamped there not long before, Bisonette,\\nPaul Dorion, Antoine Le Rouge, Richardson, and\\nfour others, whose names he could not tell. All this\\nproved strictly correct. By what instinct he had\\narrived at such accurate conclusions, I am utterly at\\na loss to divine.\\nIt was still quite dark when I awoke and called\\nRaymond. The Indian was already gone, having\\nchosen to go on before us to the fort. Setting out\\nafter him, we rode for some time in complete dark-\\nness, and when the sun at length rose, glowing like a\\nfiery ball of copper, we were within ten miles of the\\nfort. At length, from the summit of a sandy bluff,\\nwe could see Fort Laramie, miles before us, standing\\nby the side of the stream like a little gray speck, in\\nthe midst of the boundless desolation. I stopped my\\nhorse, and sat for a moment looking down upon it.\\nIt seemed to me the very centre of comfort and civili-\\nzation. We were not long in approaching it, for we\\nrode at speed the greater part of the way. Laramie\\nCreek still intervened between us and the friendly\\nwalls. Entering the water at the point where we\\nhad struck upon the bank, we raised our feet to the\\nsaddle behind us, and thus kneeling as it were on\\nhorseback, passed dry-shod through the swift current.\\nAs we rode up the bank, a number of men appeared\\nin the gateway. Three of them came forward to\\nmeet us. In a moment I distinguished Shaw; Henry\\nChatillon followed, with his face of manly simplicity", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0375.jp2"}, "372": {"fulltext": "344 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand frankness, and Deslauriers came last, with a\\nbroad grin of welcome. The meeting was not on\\neither side one of mere ceremony. For my own part,\\nthe change was a most agreeable one, from the society\\nof savages and men little better than savages, to that\\nof my gallant and high-minded companion, and our\\nnoble-hearted guide. My appearance was equally\\nwelcome to Shaw, who was beginning to entertain\\nsome very uncomfortable surmises concerning me.\\nBordeaux greeted me cordially, and shouted to the\\ncook. This functionary was a new acquisition, hav-\\ning lately come from Fort Pierre with the trading\\nAvagons. Whatever skill he might have boasted, he\\nhad not the most promising materials to exercise it\\nupon. He set before me, however, a breakfast of\\nbiscuit, coffee, and salt pork. It seemed like a new\\nphase of existence, to be seated once more on a bench,\\nwith a knife and fork, a plate and teacup, and some-\\nthing resembling a table before me. The coffee\\nseemed delicious, and the bread was a most elcome\\nnovelty, since for three weeks I had tasted scarcely\\nanything but meat, and that for the most part with-\\nout salt. The meal also had the relish of good com-\\npany, for opposite to me sat Shaw in elegant dishabille.\\nIf one is anxious thoroughly to appreciate the value\\nof a congenial companion, he has only to spend a few\\nweeks by himself in an Ogillallah village. And if\\nhe can contrive to add to his seclusion a debilitating:\\nand somewhat critical illness, his perceptions upon\\nthis subject will be rendered considerably more vivid.\\nli", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0376.jp2"}, "373": {"fulltext": "PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS. 345\\nShtiw had been two or three weeks at the fort. I\\nfound him established in his okl quarters, a large\\napartment usually occupied by the absent bourgeois.\\nIn one corner was a soft pile of excellent buffalo-\\nrobes, and here 1 lay down. Sha^v\u00e2\u0096\u00a0 brought me three\\nbooks.\\nHere, said he, is your Shakespeare and Byron,\\nand here is the Old Testament, which has as much\\npoetry in it as the other two put together.\\nI chose the worst of the three, and for the greater\\npart of that day I lay on the buffalo-robes, fairly\\nrevelling in the creations of that resjjlendent genius\\nwhich has achieved no more signal triumph than that\\nof half beguiling us to forget the unmanly character\\nof its possessor.", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0377.jp2"}, "374": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XX.\\nTHE LONELY JOURNEY.\\nOn tlie clay of my arrival at Fort Laramie, Shaw\\nand I were lounging on two buffalo-robes in the large\\napartment hospitably assigned to us Henry Chatillon\\nalso was present, busy about the harness and weapons,\\nwhich had been brought into the room, and two or\\nthree Indians were crouching on the floor, eying us\\nwith their fixed, unwavering gaze.\\nI have been well off here, said Shaw, in all\\nrespects but one there is no good shongsasha to be\\nhad for love or money.\\nI gave him a small leather bag containing some of\\nexcellent quality, which I had brought from the\\nBlack Hills. Now, Henry, said he, hand me\\nPapin s chopping-board, or give it to that Indian,\\nand let him cut the mixture; they understand it\\nbetter than any white man.\\nThe Indian, without saying a word, mixed the\\nbark and the tobacco in due proportions, filled the\\npipe, and lighted it. This done, my companion and\\nI proceeded to deliberate on our future course of\\nproceeding first, however, Shaw acquainted me with\\nsome incidents which had occurred at the fort during\\nmy absence.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0378.jp2"}, "375": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 347\\nAbout a week before, four men had arrived from\\nbeyond the mountains: Sublette, Roddick, and two\\nothers. Just before reaching tlie fort, tlicy had met\\na kirge party of Indians, cliiefly young men. All of\\nthem belonged to the village of our old friend Smoke,\\nwho, with his whole band of adherents, professed the\\ngreatest friendship for the whites. The travellers\\ntherefore approached and began to converse without\\nthe least suspicion. Suddenly, however, their bridles\\nwere seized, and they were ordered to dismount.\\nInstead of complying, they lashed their horses, and\\nbroke away from the Indians. As they galloped off,\\nthey heard a j^ell behind them, with a burst of derisive\\nlaughter, and the reports of several guns. None of\\nthem were hurt, though Recldick s bridle-rein was\\ncut by a bullet within an inch of his hand. After\\nthis taste of Indian manners, they felt for the moment\\nno disposition to encounter farther risks. They\\nintended to pursue the route southward along the\\nfoot of the mountains to Bent s Fort; and as our\\nplans coincided with theirs, they proposed to join\\nforces. Finding, however, that I did not return,\\nthey grew impatient of inaction, forgot their late\\ndanger, and set out without us, promising to wait our\\narrival at Bent s Fort. From thence we were to\\nmake the long journey to the settlements in com-\\npany, as the path was not a little dangerous, being\\ninfested by hostile Pawnees and Camanches.\\nWe expected, on reaching Bent s Fort, to find\\nthere still another reinforcement. A young Ken-", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0379.jp2"}, "376": {"fulltext": "348 THE orp:gon trail.\\ntuckian hud come out to the mountains with Russel s\\nparty of California emigrants. One of his chief\\nobjects, as he gave out, was to kill an Indian: an\\nexploit which he afterwards succeeded in achieving,\\nmuch to the jeoj)ardy of ourselves, and others who\\nhad to pass through the country of the dead Pawnee s\\nenraged relatives. Having become disgusted with\\nhis emigrant associates, he left them, and had some\\ntime before set out with a party of companions for\\nthe head of the Arkansas. He left us a letter, to\\nsay that he would wait until we arrived at Bent s\\nFort, and accompany us thence to the settlements.\\nWhen, however, he came to the fort, he found there\\na party of forty men about to make the homeward\\njourney, and wisely preferred to avail himself of so\\nstrong an escort. Sublette and his companions also\\njoined this company; so that on reaching Bent s\\nFort, some six weeks after, we found ourselves\\ndeserted by our allies and thrown once more upon\\nour own resources.\\nOn the fourth of August, early in the afternoon,\\nwe bade a final adieu to tlie hospitable gateway of\\nFort Laramie. Again Shaw and 1 were riding side\\nby side on the prairie. For the first lifty miles we\\nhad companions witli us: TrochcS a trapper, and\\nKouville, a nondescript in the employ of the Fur\\nCompany, who were going to join the trader Bisonette\\nat his encampment near the head of Horse Creek.\\nWe rode only six or eight miles tliat afternoon before\\nwe came to a little brook traversing the barren", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0380.jp2"}, "377": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 349\\nprairie. All along- its course grew copses of young\\nwild-cherry trees, loaded with ripe fruit, and almost\\nconcealing the gliding thread of water with their\\ndense growth. Here we encamped; and being too\\nindolent to pitch our tent, we flung our saddles on\\ntlie ground, spread a pair of buffalo-robes, lay down\\nupon them, and began to smoke. Meanwhile Des-\\nlauriers busied himself with his frying-pan, and\\nRaymond stood guard over the band of grazing\\nhorses. Deslauriers had an active assistant in Rou-\\nville, who professed great skill in the culinary art,\\nand, seizing upon a fork, began to lend his aid in\\ncooking supper. Indeed, according to his own belief,\\nRouville was a man of universal knowledge, and he\\nlost no oj)portunity to display his manifold accom-\\nplishments. He had been a circus-rider at St. Louis,\\nand once he rode round Fort Laramie on his head, to\\nthe utter bewilderment of the Indians. He was also\\nnoted as the wit of the fort; and as he had consider-\\nable humor and abundant vivacity, he contributed\\nmore that night to the liveliness of the camp than all\\nthe rest of the party put together. At one instant he\\nwould kneel by Deslauriers, instructing him in the\\ntrue method of frying antelope-steaks, then he would\\ncome and seat himself at our side, dilating upon the\\ncorrect fashion of braiding up a horse s tail, telling\\napocryphal stories how he had killed a buffalo bull\\nwith a knife, having first cut off his tail when at full\\nspeed, or relating whimsical anecdotes of the lourgcois\\nPapin. At last he snatched up a volume of Shake-", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0381.jp2"}, "378": {"fulltext": "350 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nspeare that was lying on the grass, and halted and\\nstumbled through a line or two to prove that he could\\nread. He went gambolling about the camp, chattering\\nlike some frolicsome ape and whatever he was doing\\nat one moment, the presumption was a sure one that\\nhe would not be doing it the next. His companion\\nTrochd sat silently on the grass, not speaking a word,\\nbut keeping a vigilant eye on a very ugly little Utah\\nsquaw, of whom he was extremely jealous.\\nOn the next day we travelled farther, crossing the\\nwide sterile basin called Goch^ s Hole, Towards\\nnight we became involved among ravines and being\\nunaljle to find water, our journey was protracted to\\na very late hour. On the next morning we had to\\npass a long line of bluffs, whose raw sides, wrought\\nupon by rains and storms, were of a ghastly white-\\nness most oppressive to the sight. As we ascended\\na gap in these hills, the way was marked by huge\\nfootprints, like those of a human giant. They were\\nthe tracks of the grizzly bear, of which we had also\\nseen abundance on the day before. Immediately\\nafter this we were crossing a barren plain, spreading\\nin long and gentle undulations to the horizon.\\nThough the sun was bright, there was a light haze\\nin the atmosphere. The distant hills assumed strange,\\ndistorted forms in the mirage, and the edge of the\\nhorizon was continually changing its aspect. Shaw\\nand I were riding together, and Henry Chatillon\\nwas a few rods before us, when he stoj)ped his horse\\nsuddenly, and turning round with the peculiar earnest", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0382.jp2"}, "379": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 351\\nexpression wliicli lie always wore when excited, called\\nus to come forward. We galloped to liis side. Henry\\npointed towards a black speck on the gray swell of\\nthe prairie, apparently about a mile off. It must\\nbe a bear, said he; come, now we shall all have\\nsome sport. Better fun to fight him than to fight an\\nold buffalo bull; grizzly bear so strong and smart.\\nSo we all galloped forward together, prepared for\\na hard fight; for these bears, though clumsy in\\nappearance, are incredibly fierce and active. The\\nswell of the prairie concealed the black object from\\nour view. Immediately after it appeared again. But\\nnow it seemed very near to us; and as we looked at\\nit in astonishment, it suddenly separated into two\\nparts, each of which took wing and flew away. We\\nstopped our horses and looked at Henry, whose face\\nexhibited a curious mixture of mirth and mortifi-\\ncation. His eye had been so completely deceived\\nby the peculiar atmosphere that he had mistaken\\ntwo large crows at the distance of fifty rods for\\na grizzly bear a mile off. To the journey s end\\nHenry never heard the last of the grizzly bear with\\nwings.\\nIn the afternoon we came to the foot of a consider-\\nable hill. As we ascended it, Rouville began to ask\\nquestions concerning our condition and prospects at\\nhome, and Shaw was edifying him with an account\\nof an imaginary wife and child, to which he listened\\nwith implicit faith. Reaching the top of the hill, we\\nsaw the windings of Horse Creek on the plains below", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0383.jp2"}, "380": {"fulltext": "352 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nus, and a little on the left we could distinguish the\\ncamp of Bisonette among the trees and copses along\\nthe course of the stream. Rouville s face assumed\\njust then a ludicrously blank expression. We in-\\nquired what was the matter when it appeared that\\nBisonette had sent him from this place to Fort\\nLaramie with the sole object of bringing back a\\nsupply of tobacco. Our rattlebrain friend, from the\\ntime of his reaching the fort up to the present\\nmoment, had entirely forgotten the object of his jour-\\nney, and had ridden a dangerous hundred miles for\\nnothing. Descending to Horse Creek, we forded it,\\nand on the opposite bank a solitary Indian sat on\\nhorseback under a tree. He said nothing, but turned\\nand led the way towards the camp. Bisonette had\\nmade choice of an admirable position. The stream,\\nwith its thick growth of trees, enclosed on three sides\\na wide green meadow, where about forty Dahcotah\\nlodges were pitched in a circle, and beyond them a\\nfew lodges of the friendly Shiennes. Bisonette him-\\nself lived in the Indian manner. Riding up to his\\nlodge, we found him seated at the head of it, sur-\\nrounded by various appliances of comfort not connnon\\non the prairie. His squaw was near him, and rosy\\nchildren were scrambling about in printed calico\\ngowns Paul Dorion, also, with his leathery face and\\nold white capote, was seated in the lodge, together\\nwith Antoine Le Rouge, a half-breed Pawnee, Sibille,\\na trader, and several other white men.\\nIt will do you no harm, said Bisonette, to", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0384.jp2"}, "381": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 353\\nstay here with us for a day or two, before you start\\nfor the Pueblo.\\nWe accepted the invitation, and pitched our tent\\non a rising ground above the camp and close to the\\ntrees. Bisonette soon invited us to a feast, and we\\nsuffered abundance of the same sort of attention from\\nhis Indian associates. The reader may possibly recol-\\nlect that when I joined the Indian village, beyond\\nthe Black Hills, I found that a few families were\\nabsent, having declined to pass the mountains along\\nwith the rest. The Indians in Bisonette s camp con-\\nsisted of these very families, and many of them came\\nto me that evening to inquire after their relatives\\nand friends. They were not a little mortified to\\nlearn that while they, from their own timidity and\\nindolence, Avere almost in a starving condition, the\\nrest of the village had provided their lodges for the\\nnext season, laid in a great stock of provisions, and\\nwere living in abundance. Bisonette s companions\\nhad been sustaining themselves for some time on\\nwild cherries, which the squaws pounded, stones\\nand all, and spread on buffalo-robes to dry in the\\nsun; they were then eaten without farther prepara-\\ntion, or used as an ingredient in various delectable\\ncompounds.\\nOn the next day, the camp was in commotion with\\na new arrival. A single Indian had come with his\\nfamily from the Arkansas. As he passed among the\\nlodges, he put on an expression of unusual dignity\\nand importance, and gave out that he had brought\\n23", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0385.jp2"}, "382": {"fulltext": "354 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ngreat news to tell the whites. Soon after the squaws\\nhad pitched his lodge, he sent his little son to invite\\nall the white men and all the more distinguished\\nIndians to a feast. The guests arrived and sat\\nwedged together, shoulder to shoulder, within the\\nhot and suffocating lodge. The Stabber, for that\\nwas our entertainer s name, had killed an old buffalo\\nbull on his way. This veteran s boiled tripe, tougher\\nthan leather, formed the main item of the repast.\\nFor the rest, it consisted of wild cherries and grease\\nboiled together in a large copper kettle. The feast\\nwas distributed, and for a moment all was silent,\\nstrenuous exertion then each guest, though with one\\nor two exceptions, turned his wooden dish bottom\\nupwards to prove that he had done full justice to his\\nentertainer s hospitality. The Stabber next produced\\nhis chopping-board, on which he prepared the mix-\\nture for smoking, and filled several pipes, which cir-\\nculated among the companj This done, he seated\\nhimself upright on his couch, and began with much\\ngesticulation to tell his story. I will not repeat his\\nchildish jargon. It was so entangled, like the\\ngreater part of an Indian s stories, with absurd and\\ncontradictory details, that it was almost impossible\\nto disengage from it a single particle of truth. All\\nthat we could gather was the following\\nHe had been on the Arkansas, and there he had\\nseen six great war-parties of whites. He had never\\nbelieved before that the whole world contained half\\nso many white men. They all had large horses, long", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0386.jp2"}, "383": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 355\\nknives, and short rifles, and some of them were\\ndressed alike in the most splendid war-dresses he\\nhad ever seen. From this account it was clear that\\nbodies of dragoons and perhaps also of volunteer\\ncavalry had passed up the Arkansas. The Stabber\\nhad also seen a great many of the white lodges of\\nthe Meneaska, drawn by their long-horned buffalo.\\nThese could be nothing else than covered ox-wagons,\\nused, no doubt, in transporting stores for the troops.\\nSoon after seeing this, our host had met an Indian\\nwho had lately come from among the Camanches,\\nwho had told him that all the Mexicans had gone\\nout to a great buffalo hunt that the Americans had\\nhid themselves in a ravine; and that when the\\nMexicans had shot away all their arrows, the Ameri-\\ncans fired their guns, raised their war-whoop, rushed\\nout, and killed them all. We could only infer from\\nthis, that war had been declared with Mexico, and a\\nbattle fought in which the Americans were victo-\\nrious. When, some weeks after, we arrived at the\\nPueblo, we heard of General Kearney s march up\\nthe Arkansas, and of General Taylor s victories at\\nMatamoras.\\nAs the sun was setting that evening a crowd gath-\\nered on the plain by the side of our tent, to try the\\nspeed of their horses. These were of every shape,\\nsize, and color. Some came from California, some\\nfrom the States, some from among the mountains,\\nand some from the wild bands of the prairie. They\\nwere of every hue, white, black, red, and gray, or", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0387.jp2"}, "384": {"fulltext": "356 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmottled and clouded with a strange variety of colors.\\nThey all had a wild and startled look, very differ-\\nent from the sober aspect of a well-bred city steed.\\nThose most noted for swiftness and spirit were deco-\\nrated with eagle feathers dangling from their manes\\nand tails. Fifty or sixty Dahcotah were present,\\nwrapped from head to foot in their heavy robes of\\nwhitened hide. There were also a considerable\\nnumber of the Shiennes, many of v/hom wore gaudy\\nMexican ponchos, swathed around their shoulders,\\nbut leaving the right arm bare. Mingled among the\\ncrowd of Indians was a number of Canadians, chiefly\\nin the employ of Bisonette, men v/hose home is the\\nwilderness, and who love the camp-fire better than\\nthe domestic hearth. They are contented and happy\\nin the midst of hardship, privation, and danger.\\nTheir cheerfulness and gayety is irrepressible, and\\nno people on earth understand better how to daff\\nthe world aside and bid it pass. Besides these,\\nwere two or three half-breeds, a race of rather extra-\\nordinary composition, being according to the common\\nsaying half Indian, half white man, and half devil.\\nAntoine Le Rouge was the most conspicuous among\\nthem, with his loose trousers and fluttering calico\\nshirt. A handkerchief was bound round his head to\\nconfine his black snaky hair, and his small eyes\\ntwinkled beneath it with a mischievous lustre. He\\nhad a fine cream-colored horse, whose speed he must\\nneeds try along with the rest. So he threw off the\\nrude high-peaked saddle, and substituting a piece of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0388.jp2"}, "385": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 357\\nbuff alo- robe, leaped liglitly into his seat. The space\\nwas cleared, the Avord was given, and he and his\\nIndian rival darted out like lightning from among\\nthe crowd, each stretching forward over his horse s\\nneck and plying his heavy Indian whip with might\\nand main. A moment, and both were lost in the\\ngloom; but Antoine soon came riding back victori-\\nous, exultingly patting the neck of his quivering and\\npanting horse.\\nAbout midnight, as I lay asleep, wrapped in a\\nbuffalo-robe on the ground ])y the side of our cart,\\nRaymond came and woke me. Something, he said,\\nwas going forward which I would like to see. Look-\\ning down into the camp, I saw on the farther side of\\nit a great number of Indians gathered about a fire,\\nthe bright glare of which made them visible through\\nthe thick darkness while from the midst proceeded\\na loud, measured chant which would have killed\\nPaganini outright, broken occasionally by a burst of\\nsharp yells. I gathered the robe around me, for the\\nnight was cold, and walked down to the spot. The\\ndark throng of Indians was so dense that they almost\\nintercepted the light of the flame. As I was pushing\\namong them with little ceremony, a chief interposed\\nhimself, and I was given to understand that a white\\nman must not approach the scene of their solemnities\\ntoo closely. By passing round to the other side\\nwhere there was a little opening in the crowd, I\\ncould see clearly what was going forward, without\\nintruding my unhallowed presence into the inner", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0389.jp2"}, "386": {"fulltext": "358 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ncircle. The society of the Strong Hearts were\\nengaged in one of their dances. The Strong\\nHearts are a warlike association, comprising men of\\nboth the Dahcotah and Shienne nations, and entirely\\ncomposed, or supposed to be so, of young braves of\\nthe highest mettle. Its fundamental principle is the\\nadmirable one of never retreating from any enterprise\\nonce begun. All these Indian associations have a\\ntutelary spirit. That of the Strong Hearts is em-\\nbodied in the fox, an animal which white men would\\nhardly have selected for a similar purpose, though\\nhis subtle character agrees well enough with an\\nIndian s notions of what is honorable in warfare.\\nThe dancers were circling round and round the fire,\\neach figure brightly illumined at one moment by the\\nyellow light, and at the next drawn in blackest\\nshadow as it passed between the flame and the spec-\\ntator. They would imitate with the most ludicrous\\nexactness the motions and voice of their sly patron\\nthe fox. Then a startling yell would be given.\\nMany other warriors would leap into the ring, and\\nwith faces upturned towards the starless sky, they\\nwould all stamp, and whoop, and brandish their\\nweapons like so many frantic devils.\\nWe remained here till the next afternoon. Mj\\ncompanion and I with our three attendants then set\\nout for the Pueblo, a distance of three hundred miles,\\nand we supposed the journey would occupy about a\\nfortnight. During this time we all hoped that we\\nmight not meet a single human being, for should we", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0390.jp2"}, "387": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 359\\nencounter any, they would in all probability be ene-\\nmies, in whose eyes our rifles would be our only\\npassports. For the first two days nothing worth\\nmentioning took place. On the third morning, how-\\never, an untoward incident occurred. We were\\nencamped by the side of a little brook in an extensive\\nhollow of the plain. Deslauriers was up long before\\ndaylight, and before he began to prepare breakfast he\\nturned loose all the horses, as in duty bound. There\\nwas a cold mist clinging close to the ground, and by\\nthe time the rest of us were awake the animals were\\ninvisible. It was only after a long and anxious\\nsearch that we could discover by their tracks the\\ndirection they had taken. They had all set off for\\nFort Laramie, following the guidance of a mutinous\\nold mule, and though many of them were hobbled,\\nthey travelled three miles before they could be over-\\ntaken and driven back.\\nFor two or three days, we were passing over an\\narid desert. The only vegetation was a few tufts\\nof short grass, dried and shrivelled by the heat.\\nThere was abundance of strange insects and reptiles.\\nHuge crickets, black and bottle green, and wingless\\ngrasshoppers of the most extravagant dimensions,\\nwere tumbling about our horses feet, and lizards\\nwithout number darting like lightning among the\\ntufts of grass. The most curious animal, however,\\nwas that commonly called the horned-frog. I caught\\none of them and consigned him to the care of\\nDeslauriers, who tied him up in a moccason. About", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0391.jp2"}, "388": {"fulltext": "3G0 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\na niontli after tlii.s, I examined tlie prisoner s condi-\\ntion, and finding him still lively and active, I pro-\\nvided liim with a cage of Luffalo-hide, which was\\nhung lip in the cart. In this manner he arrived\\nsafely at the settlements. From thence he travelled\\nthe whole way to Boston, packed closely in a trunk,\\nheing regaled with fresh air regularly every night.\\nWhen he reached his destination he was deposited\\nunder a glass case, where he sat for some months in\\ngreat tranquillity, alternately dilating and contract-\\ning his white throat to the admiration of his visitors.\\nAt length, one morning about the middle of winter,\\nhe gave wp the ghost, and he now occupies a bottle\\nof alcohol in the Agassiz Museum. His death was\\nattributed to starvation, a very probable conclusion,\\nsince for six months he had taken no food whatever,\\nthough the sympathy of his juvenile admirers had\\ntempted his palate with a great variety of delicacies.\\nWe found also animals of a somewhat larger growth.\\nThe number of prairie-dogs was astounding. Fre-\\nquently the hard and dry plain was thickly covered,\\nfor miles together, with the little mounds which they\\nmake at the mouth of their burrows, and small\\nsqueaking voices yelped at us, as we passed along.\\nThe noses of the inhabitants were just visible at the\\nmouth of their holes, but no sooner was their curiosity\\nsatisfied than they would instantly vanish. Some of\\nthe bolder dogs though in fact they are no dogs at\\nall, but little marmots rather smaller than a rabbit\\nwould sit yelping at us on the top of their mounds,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0392.jp2"}, "389": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 361\\njerking their tails emphatically with every shrill cr}\\nthey uttered. As the danger drew nearer they would\\nwheel about, toss their heels into the air, and dive in\\na twinkling into their burrows. Towards sunset, and\\nespecially if rain vv-as threatening, the whole com-\\nmunity made their appearance above ground. We\\nsaw them gathered in large knots around the burrow\\nof some favorite citizen. There they would all sit\\nerect, their tails spread out on the ground, and their\\npaws hanging down before their white breasts, chat-\\ntering and squeaking with the utmost vivacity upon\\nsome topic of common interest, while the proprietor\\nof the burrow sat on the top of his mound, looking\\ndown with a complacent countenance on the enjoy-\\nment of his guests. Meanwhile, others ran about\\nfrom burrow to burrow, as if on some errand of the\\nlast importance to their subterranean commonwealth.\\nThe snakes are apparently the prairie-dog s worst\\nenemies; at least I think too well of the latter to\\nsuppose that they associate on friendly terms with\\nthese slimy intruders, which may be seen at all times\\nbasking among their holes, into which they always\\nretreat when disturbed. Small owls, with wise and\\ngrave countenances, also make their abode with the\\nprairie-dogs, though on what terms they live together\\nI could never ascertain.\\nOn the fifth day after leaving Bisonette s camp,\\nwe saw, late in the afternoon, what w e supposed to\\nbe a considerable stream, but on approaching it, we\\nfound to our mortification nothing but a dry bed of", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0393.jp2"}, "390": {"fulltext": "362 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nsand, into which the water had sunk and disappeared.\\nWe separated, some riding in one direction and some\\nin another, along its course. Still we found no\\ntraces of water, not even so much as a wet spot in the\\nsand. The old cotton-wood trees that grew along\\nthe bank, lamentably abused by lightning and tempest,\\nwere withering with the drought, and on the dead\\nlimbs, at the summit of the tallest, half a dozen\\ncrows were hoarsely carving, like birds of evil omen.\\nWe had no alternative but to keep on. There was\\nno water nearer than the South Fork of the Platte,\\nabout ten miles distant. We moved forward, angry\\nand silent, over a desert as flat as the outspread\\nocean.\\nThe sky had been obscured since the morning by\\nthin mists and vapors, but now vast piles of clouds\\nwere gathered together in the west. They rose to a\\ngreat height above the horizon, and looking up at\\nthem I distinguished one mass darker than the rest,\\nand of a peculiar conical form. I happened to look\\nagain, and still could see it as before. At some\\nmoments it was dimly visible, at others its outline\\nwas sharp and distinct; but while the clouds around\\nit were shifting, changing, and dissolving away, it\\nstill towered aloft in the midst of them, fixed and\\nimmovable. It must, thought I, be the summit of a\\nmountain; and yet its height staggered me. My\\nconclusion was right, however. It was Long s Peak,\\nonce believed to be one of the highest of the Rocky\\nMountain chain, though more recent discoveries have", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0394.jp2"}, "391": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 363\\nproved the contrary. Tlie thickening gloom soon\\nhid it from view, and Ave never saw it again, for on\\nthe folk) wing day, and for some time after, the air\\nwas so full of mist that the view of distant objects\\nwas entirely cut off-\\nIt grew very late. Turning from our direct course,\\nwe made for the river at its nearest point, though in\\nthe utter darkness it was not easy to direct our way\\nwith much precision. Raymond rode on one side\\nand Henry on the other. We heard each of them\\nshouting that he had come upon a deep ravine. We\\nsteered at random between Scylla and Charybdis,\\nand soon after became, as it seemed, inextricably\\ninvolved with deep chasms all around us, while the\\ndarkness was such that we could not see a rod in\\nany direction. We partially extricated ourselves by\\nscrambling, cart and all, through a shallow ravine.\\nWe came next to a steep descent, down which we\\nplunged without well knowing what was at the bot-\\ntom. There was a great cracking of sticks and dry\\ntwigs. Over our heads were certain large shadowy\\nobjects and in front something like the faint gleam-\\ning of a dark sheet of water. Raymond ran his horse\\nagainst a tree; Henry alighted, and, feeling on the\\nground, declared that there was grass enough for the\\nhorses. Before taking off his saddle, each man led\\nhis own horses down to the water in the best way he\\ncould. Then picketing two or three of the evil-dis-\\nposed, we turned the rest loose, and lay down among\\nthe dry sticks to sleep. In the morning wc found", "height": "2946", "width": "1801", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0395.jp2"}, "392": {"fulltext": "364 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nourselves close to the South Fork of the Platte, on a\\nspot surrounded by hushes and rank grass. Com-\\npensating ourselves with a hearty breakfast for the\\nill-fare of the previous night, we set forward again\\non our journey. When only two or three rods from\\nthe camp, I saw Shaw stop his mule, level his gun,\\nand fire at some object in the grass. Deslauriers\\nnext jumped forward, and began to dance about,\\nbelaboring the unseen enemy with a whip. Then he\\nstooped down, and drew out of the grass by the neck\\nan enormous rattlesnake, with his head completely\\nshattered by Shaw s bullet. As Deslauriers held\\nhim out at arm s length with an exulting grin, his\\ntail, which still kept slowly writhing about, almost\\ntouched the ground and his body in the largest part\\nwas as thick as a stout man s arm. He had fourteen\\nrattles, but the end of his tail was blunted, as if he\\ncould once have boasted of many more. From this\\ntime till we reached the Pueblo, we killed at least\\nfour or five of these snakes every day, as they lay\\ncoiled and rattling on the hot sand. Shaw was the\\nSt. Patrick of the party, and whenever he killed a\\nsnake he pulled off his tail and stored it away in his\\nbullet-pouch, which was soon crammed with an edify-\\ning collection of rattles, great and small. Deslauriers\\nwith his whip also came in for a share of praise. A\\nday or two after this, he triumphantly produced a\\nsmall snake about a span and a half long, with one\\ninfant rattle at the end of his tail.\\nWe forded the South Fork of the Platte. On its", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0396.jp2"}, "393": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 365\\nfarther bank were the traces of a very large camp of\\nArapahoes. The ashes of some three hundred fires\\nwere visible among the scattered trees, together with\\nthe remains of sweating lodges, and all the other\\nappurtenances of a permanent camp. The place,\\nhowever, had been for some months deserted. A\\nfew miles farther on we found more recent signs of\\nIndians the trail of two or three lodges, which had\\nevidently j^assed the day before every footprint was\\nperfectly distinct in the dry, dusty soil. We noticed\\nin particular the track of one moccason, upon the\\nsole of which its economical proprietor had placed a\\nlarge patch. These signs gave us but little uneasi-\\nness, as the number of the warriors scarcely exceeded\\nthat of our own party. At noon we rested under the\\nwalls of a large fort, built in these solitudes some\\nyears since by M. St. Vrain. It was now abandoned\\nand fast falling into ruin. The walls of unbaked\\nbricks were cracked from top to bottom. Our horses\\nrecoiled in terror from the neglected entrance, where\\nthe heavy gates were torn from their hinges and flung\\ndown. The area within was overgrown with weeds,\\nand the long ranges of apartments once occupied\\nby the motley concourse of traders, Canadians, and\\nsquaws, were now miserably dilapidated. Twelve\\nmiles farther on, near the spot where we encamped,\\nwere the remains of another fort, standing in melan-\\ncholy desertion and neglect.\\nEarly on the following morning we made a start-\\nling discovery. We passed close by a large deserted", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0397.jp2"}, "394": {"fulltext": "366 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nencampment of Arapahoes. There were about fifty\\nfires still smouldering on the ground, and it was\\nevident from numerous signs that the Indians must\\nhave left the place Avithin two hours of our reaching\\nit. Their trail crossed our own, at right angles, and\\nled in the direction of a line of hills, half a mile on\\nour left. There were women and children in the\\nparty, which would have greatly diminished the\\ndanger of encountering them. Henry Chatillon\\nexamined the encampment and the trail with a very\\nprofessional and business-like air.\\nSupposing we had met them, Henry? said I.\\nWhy, said he, we hold out our hands to them,\\nand give them all we ve got; they take away every-\\nthing, and then I believe they no kill us. Perhaps,\\nadded he, looking up Avith a quiet, unchanged face,\\nperhaps we no let them rob us. Maybe before they\\ncome near, we have a chance to get into a ravine, or\\nunder the bank of the river; then, you know, we\\nfight them.\\nAbout noon on that day we reached Cherry Creek.\\nHere was a great abundance of wild cherries, plums,\\ngooseberries, and currants. The stream, however,\\nlike most of the others which we passed, was dried\\nup with the heat, and we had to dig holes in the\\nsand to find water for ourselves and our horses. Two\\ndays after, we left the banks of the creek, which we\\nhad been following for some time, and began to cross\\nthe high dividing ridge which separates the waters\\nof the Platte from those of the Arkansas. The", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0398.jp2"}, "395": {"fulltext": "THE LONELY JOURNEY. 367\\nscenery was altogetlier changed. In place of the\\nburning plains, we passed through rough and savage\\nglens, and among hills crowned with a dreary growth\\nof pines. We encamped among these solitudes on\\nthe night of the sixteenth of August. A tempest\\nwas threatening. The sun went down among volumeL\\nof jet-black cloud, edged with a bloody red. But in\\nspite of these portentous signs, we neglected to put\\nup the tent, and, being extremely fatigued, lay down\\non the ground and fell asleep. The storm broke\\nabout midnight, and we pitched the tent amid dark-\\nness and confusion. In the morning all was fair\\nagain, and Pike s Peak, white with snow, was tower-\\ning above the wilderness afar off.\\nWe pushed through an extensive tract of pine\\nwoods. Large black-squirrels were leaping among\\nthe branches. From the farther edge of this forest\\nwe saw the prairie again, hollowed out before us into\\na vast basin, and about a mile in front we could dis-\\ncern a little black speck moving upon its surface. It\\ncould be nothing but a buffalo. Henry primed his\\nrifle afresh and galloped forward. To the left of the\\nanimal was a low rock}^ mound, of which Henry\\navailed himself in making his approach. After a\\nshort time we heard the faint report of the rifle. The\\nbull, mortally wounded from a distance of nearly\\nthree hundred yards, ran wildly round and round\\nin a circle. Shaw and I then galloped forward, and\\npassing him as he ran, foaming with rage and pain,\\ndischarged our pistols into his side. Once or twice", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0399.jp2"}, "396": {"fulltext": "368 THE ORECxON TRAIL.\\nhe rushed furiously upon us, but his strength was\\nrapidly exhausted. Down he fell on his knees. For\\none instant he glared up at his enemies, with burning\\neyes, through his black tangled mane, and then rolled\\nover on his side. Though gaunt and thin, he was\\nlarger and heavier than the largest ox. Foam and\\nblood flowed together from his nostrils as he lay bel-\\nlowing and pawing the ground, tearing up grass and\\nearth with his hoofs. His sides rose and fell like a\\nvast pair of bellows, the blood spouting up in jets\\nfrom the bullet-holes. Suddenly his glaring eyes\\nbecame like a lifeless jelly. He lay motionless on\\nthe ground. Henry stooped over him, and, making\\nan incision with his knife, pronounced the meat too\\nrank and tough for use so, disappointed in our hopes\\nof an addition to our stock of provisions, we rode\\naway and left the carcass to the wolves.\\nIn the afternoon we saw the mountains rising like\\na gigantic wall at no great distance on our right.\\nDes sauvages dcs sauvages exclaimed Deslauriers,\\nlooking round with a frightened face, and pointing\\nwith his whip towards the foot of the mountains. In\\nfact, we could see at a distance a number of little\\nblack specks, like horsemen in rapid motion. Henry\\nChatillon, with Shaw and myself, galloped towards\\nthem to reconnoitre, when to our amusement we saw\\nthe supposed Arapahoes resolved into the black tops\\nof some pine-trees which grew along a ravine. The\\nsummits of these pines, just visible above the verge\\nof the prairie, and seeming to move as we our-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0400.jp2"}, "397": {"fulltext": "TFIE LONELY JOURNF.Y. 869\\nselves were advancing, looked exactly like a line of\\nhorsemen.\\nWe encamped among ravines and hollows, through\\nwhich a little brook was foaming angrily. Before\\nsunrise in the morning the snow-covered mountains\\nv/ere beautifully tinged with a delicate rose-color.\\nA noble spectacle awaited us as we moved forv/ard.\\nSix or eight miles on our right, Pike s Peak and his\\ngiant brethren rose out of the level prairie, as if\\nspringing from the bed of the ocean. From their\\nsummits down to the plain below they were involved\\nin a mantle of clouds, in restless motion, as if urged\\nby strong winds. For one instant some snowy peak,\\ntowering in awful solitude, would be disclosed to\\nview. As the clouds broke along the mountain, we\\ncould see the dreary forests, the tremendous preci-\\npices, the white patches of snow, the gulfs and\\nchasms as black as night, all revealed for an instant,\\nand then disappearing from the view.\\nOn the day after, we had left the mountains at\\nsome distance. A black cloud descended upon them,\\nand a tremendous explosion of thunder followed,\\nreverberating among the precipices. In a few\\nmoments everything grew black, and the rain poured\\ndown like a cataract. We got under an old cotton-\\nwood tree, which stood by the side of a stream, and\\nwaited there till the rage of the toiTcnt luul passed.\\nThe clouds opened at the point Vvhere they first\\nhad gathered, and the whole sublime congregation of\\nmountains was bathed at once in warm sunshine.\\n24", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0401.jp2"}, "398": {"fulltext": "370 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThey seemed more like some vision of eastern romance\\nthan like a reality of that wilderness; all were melted\\ntogether into a soft delicious blue, as voluptuous as\\nthe sky of Naples or the transparent sea that washes\\nthe sunny cliffs of Capri. On the left the sky was\\nstill of an inky blackness but two concentric rain-\\nbows stood in bright relief against it, while far in\\nfront the ragged clouds still streamed before the\\nwind, and the retreating thunder muttered angrily.\\nThrough that afternoon and the next morning we\\nwere passing down the banks of the stream, called\\nBoiling Spring Creek, from the boiling spring\\nwhose waters flow into it. When we stojDped at\\nnoon, we were within six or eight miles of the\\nPueblo. Setting out again, we found by the fresh\\ntracks that a horseman had just been out to recon-\\nnoitre us; he had circled half round the camp, and\\nthen galloped back at full speed for the Pueblo.\\nWhat made him so shy of us we could not conceive.\\nAfter an hour s ride we reached the edge of a hill,\\nfrom which a welcome sight greeted us. The\\nArkansas ran along the valley below, among woods\\nand groves, and closely nestled in the midst of wide\\ncorn-fields and green meadows, where cattle were\\ngrazing, rose the low mud walls of the Pueblo.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0402.jp2"}, "399": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXI.\\nTHE PUEBLO AND BENT S FORT.\\nWe fipproached the gate of the Pueblo. It was a\\nwretched species of fort, of most primitive construc-\\ntion, being nothing more than a large square enclosure,\\nsurrounded by a wall of mud, miserably cracked and\\ndilapidated. The slender pickets that surmounted it\\nwere half broken down, and the gate dangled on its\\nwooden hinges so loosely that to open or shut it\\nseemed likely to fling it down altogether. Two or\\nthree squalid Mexicans, with their broad hats, and\\ntheir vile faces overgrown with hair, were lounging\\nabout the bank of the river in front of it. They\\ndisappeared as they saw us approach and as we rode\\nup to the gate, a light active little figure came out to\\nmeet us. It was our old friend Richard. He had\\ncome from Fort Laramie on a trading expedition to\\nTaos but finding when he reached the Pueblo that\\nthe war woidd prevent his going farther, he was\\nquietly waiting till the conquest of the countr}\\nshould allow him to proceed. He seemed to feel\\nbound to do the honors of the place. Shaking us\\nwarmly by the hand, he led the way into the area.\\nHere we saw his large Santa Fd wagons standing\\ntogether. A few squaws and Spanish women, and a", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0403.jp2"}, "400": {"fulltext": "872 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nfew Mexicans, as mean and miserable as the place\\nitself, were lazily sauntering aljout. Richard con-\\nducted us to the state apartment of the Pueblo, a\\nsmall mud room, very Jieatly finished, considering the\\nmaterial, and garnished with a crucifix, a looking-\\nglass, a picture of the Virgin, and a rusty horse-\\npistol. There were no chairs, but instead of them a\\nnumber of chests and boxes ranged about the room.\\nThere was another room beyond, less sumptuously\\ndecorated, and here three or four Spanish girls, one\\nof them very pretty, were baking cakes at a mud fire-\\nplace in the corner. They brought out a poncho,\\nwhich they spread upon the floor by way of table-\\ncloth. A supper, which seemed to us luxurious, was\\nsoon laid out upon it, and folded buffalo-robes were\\nplaced around it to receive the guests. Two or three\\nAmericans besides ourselves were present. We sat\\ndown in Turkish fashion, and began to ask the news.\\nRichard told us that, about three weeks before,\\nGeneral Kearney s army had left Bent s Fort to\\nmarch against Santa Fe that when last heard from\\nthey were approaching the defiles that led to the city.\\nOne of the Americans produced a dingy newspaper,\\ncontaining an account of the battles of Palo Alto and\\nResaca de la Palma. While we were discussing these\\nmatters, the doorway was darkened by a tall, sham-\\nbling fellow, who stood with his hands in his pockets\\ntaking a leisurely survey of the premises before he\\nentered. He wore brown homespun trousers, much\\ntoo short for his legs, and a pistol and bowie-laiife", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0404.jp2"}, "401": {"fulltext": "THE PUEBLO AND BENT S FORT. 373\\nstuck in his belt. His head and one eye were envel-\\noped in a huge banddge of linen. Having completed\\nhis observations, he came slouching in, and sat down\\non a chest. Eight or ten more of the same stamp\\nfollowed, and very coolly arranging themselves about\\nthe room, began to stare at the company. We were\\nforcibly reminded of the Oregon emigrants, though\\nthese unwelcome visitors had a certain glitter of\\nthe eye, and a compression of the lips, which distin-\\nguished them from our old acquaintances of the\\nprairie. They began to catechise us at once, inquir-\\ning whence we had come, what we meant to do next,\\nand what were our prospects in life.\\nThe man with the bandaged head had met with\\nan untoward accident a few days before. He was\\ngoing down to the river to bring water, and was\\npushing through the young willows which covered\\nthe low ground when he came unawares upon a\\ngrizzly bear, which, having just eaten a buffalo bull,\\nhad lain down to sleep off the meal. The bear rose\\non his hind legs, and gave the intruder such a blow\\nwith his paw that he laid his forehead entirely bare,\\nclawed off the front of his scalp, and narrowly missed\\none of his eyes. Fortunately he was not in a very\\npugnacious mood, being surfeited with his late meal.\\nThe man s companions, who were close behind, raised\\na shout, and the bear walked away, crushing down\\nthe willows in his leisurely retreat.\\nThese men belonged to a party of Mormons, who,\\nout of a well-grounded fear of the other emigrants,", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0405.jp2"}, "402": {"fulltext": "374 THE OREGOX TRAIL.\\nhad postponed leaving the settlements until all the\\nrest were gone. On account of this delay, they cUd\\nnot reach Fort Laramie until it was too late to con-\\ntinue their journey to California. Hearing that there\\nwas good land at the head of the Arkansas, they\\ncrossed over under the guidance of Richard, and\\nwere now preparing to spend the winter at a spot\\nabout half a mile from the Pueblo.\\nWhen we took leave of Richard it Avas near sun-\\nset. Passing out of the gate, we could look down\\nthe little valley of the Arkansas a beautiful scene,\\nand doubly so to our eyes, so long accustomed to\\ndeserts and mountains. Tall woods lined the river,\\nwith green meadows on either hand; and high bluffs,\\nquietly basking in the sunlight, flanked the narrow\\nvalley. A Mexican on horseback was driving a herd\\nof cattle towards the gate, and our little white tent,\\nwhich the men had pitched under a tree in the\\nmeadow, made a pleasing feature in the scene.\\nWhen we reached it, we found that Richard had sent\\na Mexican to bring us an abundant supply of green\\ncorn and vegetables, and invite us to help ourselves\\nto whatever we wanted from the fields around the\\nPueblo.\\nThe inhabitants were in daily apprehension of an\\ninroad from more formidable consumers than we.\\nEvery year, at the time when the corn begins to\\nripen, the Arapahoes, to the number of several thou-\\nsands, come and encamp around the Pueblo. The\\nhandful of white men, who are entirely at the mercy", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0406.jp2"}, "403": {"fulltext": "THE PUEBLO AND BENT S FORT. 375\\nof this swarm of barbarians, choose to make a merit\\nof necessity they come forward very cordially, shake\\nthem by the hand, and tell them that the harvest is\\nentirely at their disposal. The Arapahoes take them\\nat their word, lielp themselves most liberall} and\\nusually turn their horses into the corn-fields after-\\nwards. They have the foresight, however, to leave\\nenough of the crops untouched to serve as an induce-\\nment for planting the fields again for their benefit\\nin the next spring.\\nThe human race in this part of the world is sepa-\\nrated into three divisions, arranged in the order of\\ntheir merits white men, Indians, and Mexicans to\\nthe latter of whom the honorable title of whites is\\nby no means conceded.\\nIn spite of the warm sunset of that evening the\\nnext morning was a dreary and cheerless one. It\\nrained steadily, clouds resting upon the very tree-\\ntops. We crossed the river to visit the JMormon\\nsettlement. As we passed through the water, several\\ntrappers on horseback entered it from the other side.\\nTheir buckskin frocks were soaked through by the\\nrain, and clung fast to their limbs with a most\\nclammy and uncomfortable look. The water was\\ntrickling down their faces, and dropping from the\\nends of their rifles and from the traps which each\\ncarried at the pommel of his saddle. Horses and all,\\nthey had a disconsolate and woe-begone appearance,\\nwhich we could not help laughing at, forgetting how\\noften we ourselves had been in a similar plight.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0407.jp2"}, "404": {"fulltext": "S7G THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nAfter half an hour s riding, we saw the white\\nwagons of the j\\\\Iormons drawn up among the trees.\\nAxes were sounding, trees falhng, and log-huts ris-\\ning along the edge of the woods and upon the adjoin-\\ning meadow. As we came up, the Mormons left\\ntheir work, seated themselves on the timber around\\nus, and began earnestly to discuss points of theology,\\ncomplain of the ill-usage they had received from the\\nGentiles, and sound a lamentation over the loss of\\ntheir great temple of Nauvoo. After remaining with\\nthem an hour we rode back to our camp, happy that\\nthe settlements had been delivered from the presence\\nof such blind and desperate fanatics.\\nOn the following morning we left the Pueblo for\\nBent s Fort. The conduct of Raymond had lately\\nbeen less satisfactory than before, and we had dis-\\ncharged him as soon as we arrived at the former\\nplace, so that the party, ourselves included, was now\\nreduced to four. There was some uncertainty as to\\nour future course. The trail between Bent s Fort\\nand the settlements, a distance computed at six hun-\\ndred miles, was at this time in a dangerous state;\\nfor since the passage of General Kearney s army,\\ngreat numbers of hostile Indians, chiefly Pawnees\\nand Camanches, had gathered about some parts of it.\\nThey became soon after so numerous and audacious\\nthat scarcely a single party, however large, passed\\nbetv/een the fort and the frontier without some token\\nof their hostility. The newsjjapers of the time suffi-\\nciently display this state of things. Many men were", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0408.jp2"}, "405": {"fulltext": "THE PUEBLO AND BENT S FOUT. 377\\nkilled, and great numbers of horses and mules carried\\noff. Not long since I met with a young man, who,\\nduring the autumn, came from Santa Fd to Bent s\\nFort, where he found a party of seventy men, who\\nthought themselves too weak to go down to the settle-\\nments alone, and were waiting there for a reinforce-\\nment. Though this excessive timidity proves the\\nignorance of the men, it may also evince the state\\nof alarm Avhicli prevailed in the country. When we\\nwere there in the month of August, the danger had\\nnot become so great. There was nothing very attrac-\\ntive in the neighborliood. We supposed, moreover,\\nthat we might wait there half the winter without\\nfinding any party to go down with us; for Sublette\\nand the others whom we had relied upon had, as\\nRichard told us, already left Bent s Fort. Thus far\\non our journey Fortune had kindly befriended us.\\nWe resolved therefore to take advantage of her\\ngracious mood, and trusting for a continuance of her\\nfavors, to set out with Henry and Deslauriers, and\\nrun the gantlet of the Indians in the best way we\\ncould.\\nBent s Fort stands on the river, about seventy-five\\nmiles below the Pueblo. At noon of the third day\\nwe arrived within three or four miles of it, pitched\\nour tent under a tree, hung our looking-glasses against\\nits trunk, and having made our primitive toilet, rode\\ntowards the fort. We soon came in sight of it, for\\nit is visible from a considerable distance, standing\\nwith its high clay walls in the midst of the scorching", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0409.jp2"}, "406": {"fulltext": "378 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nplains. It seemed as if a swarm of locusts had in-\\nvaded the country. The grass for miles around was\\ncropped close by the horses of General Kearney s\\nsoldiery. When we came to the fort, we found that\\nnot only had the horses eaten up the grass, but their\\nowners had made Avay with the stores of the little\\ntrading post; so that we had great difficulty in pro-\\ncuring the few articles which we required for our\\nhomeward journey. The array was gone, the life and\\nbustle passed away, and the fort was a scene of dull\\nand lazy tranquillity. A few invalid officers and\\nsoldiers sauntered about the area, which was oppres-\\nsively hot; for the glaring sun was reflected down\\nupon it from the high white walls around. The pro-\\nprietors were absent, and we were received by Mr.\\nHolt, who had been left in charge of the fort. He\\ninvited us to dinner, where, to our admiration, we\\nfound a table laid with a white cloth, with castors in\\nthe middle, and chairs placed around it. This un-\\nwonted repast concluded, we rode back to our camp.\\nHere, as we lay smoking round the fire after\\nsupper, we saw through the dusk three men ap-\\nproaching from the direction of the fort. They rode\\nup and seated themselves near us on the ground.\\nThe foremost was a tall, well-formed man, with a\\nface and manner such as inspire confidence at once.\\nHe wore a broad hat of felt, slouching and tattered,\\nand the rest of his attire consisted of a frock and\\nleggins of buckskin, rubbed with the yellow clay\\nfound among the mountains. At the heel of one of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0410.jp2"}, "407": {"fulltext": "THE PUEBLO AND BENT S FOUT. 379\\nhis moccasons was buckled a huge iron sj^ur, with\\na rowel five or six inches in diameter. His horse,\\nAvhich stood quietly looking over his head, had a\\nrude Mexican saddle, covered with a shaggy bear-\\nskin, and furnished with a pair of wooden stirrups of\\npreposterous size. The next man was a sprightly,\\nactive little fellow, about five feet and a quarter\\nhigh, but very strong and compact. His face was\\nswarthy as a Mexican s, and covered with a close,\\ncurly, black beard. An old, greasy, calico handker-\\nchief was tied round his head, and his close buckskin\\ndress was blackened and polished by grease and hard\\nservice. The last who came up was a large, strong\\nman, dressed in the coarse homespun of the frontiers,\\nwho dragged his long limbs over the ground as if he\\nwere too lazy for the effort. He had a sleepy gray\\neye, a retreating chin, an open mouth, and a protrud-\\ning upper lip, which gave him an air of exquisite\\nindolence and helplessness. He was armed with\\nan old United States yager, which redoubtable\\nweapon, though he could never hit his mark with it,\\nhe was accustomed to cherish as the very sovereign\\nof firearms.\\nThe first two men belonged to a party who had\\njust come from California, with a large band of horses,\\nwhich they had sold at Bent s Fort. Munroe, the\\ntaller of the two, was from Iowa. He was an excel-\\nlent fellow, open, warm-hearted, and intelligent.\\nJim Gurney, the short man, was a Boston sailor,\\nwho had come in a trading vessel to California, and", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0411.jp2"}, "408": {"fulltext": "380 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ntaken the fancy to return across the continent. The\\njourney had ah-eacly made him an expert mountain-\\nman, and he presented the extraordinary phenome-\\nnon of a sailor who understood how to manage a\\nhorse. The third of our visitors, named Ellis, was a\\nMissourian, who had come out with a party of Oregon\\nemigrants, but liaving got as far as Bridger s Fort,\\nhe had fallen home-sick, or, as Jim averred, love-sick.\\nlie thought proper therefore to join the California\\nmen, and return homeward in their company.\\nThey now requested that they might unite with\\nour party, and make the journey to the settlements\\nin company with us. We readily assented, for we\\nliked the appearance of the first two men, and were\\nvery glad to gain so eflicicnt a reinforcement. We\\ntold them to meet us on the next evening at a spot\\non the river-side, about six miles below the fort.\\nHaving smoked a pipe together, our new allies left\\nus, and we lay down to sleep.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0412.jp2"}, "409": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXII.\\nTETE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER.\\nThe next morning, having directed Deslauriers to\\nrepair with his cart to the place of meeting, we came\\nagain to the fort to make some arrangements for the\\njourney. After completing these we sat down under\\na sort of porch, to smoke with some Shienne Indians\\nwhom we found there. In a few minutes we saw an\\nextraordinary little figure approach us in a military\\ndress. He had a small, round countenance, gar-\\nnished ahout the e3^es with the kind of wrinkles com-\\nmonly known as crow s feet, and surmounted by an\\nabundant crop of red curls, with a little cap resting\\non the top of them. Altogether, he had the look of\\na man more conversant with mint-juleps and oyster\\nsupj^ers than with the hardships of prairie-service.\\nHe came up to us and entreated that we would take\\nhim home to the settlements, saying that unless he\\nwent with us he should have to stay all winter at the\\nfort. We liked our petitioner s appearance so little\\nthat we excused ourselves from complying with his\\nrequest. At this he begged us so hard to take pity\\non him, looked so disconsolate, and told so lament-\\nable a story, that at last we consented, though not\\nwithout many misgivings.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0413.jp2"}, "410": {"fulltext": "382 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThe rugged Anglo-Saxon of our new recruit s real\\nname proved utterly unmanageable on the lips of our\\nFrench attendants and Henry Chatillon, after various\\nabortive attempts to pronounce it, one day coolly\\nchristened him Tete Rouge, in honor of his red curls,\\nlie had at different times been clerk of a Mississippi\\nsteamboat, and agent in a trading establishment at\\nNauvoo, besides filling various other capacities, in all\\nof which he had seen much more of life than was\\ngood for him. In the spring, thinking that a sum-\\nmer s campaign would be an agreeable recreation, he\\nhad joined a company of St. Louis volunteers.\\nThere were three of us, said Tete Rouge, me\\nand Bill Stephens and John Hopkins. We thought\\nwe would just go out with the army, and when we\\nliad conquered the country, we would get discharged\\nand take our pay, 3^ou know, and go down to Mexico.\\nThey say there s plenty of fun going on there.\\nThen we could go back to New Orleans by way of\\nVera Cruz.\\nBut Tete Rouge, like many a stouter volunteer,\\nhad reckoned without his host. Fighting IMexicans\\nwas a less amusing occupation than he had supposed,\\nand his pleasure trip was disagreeably interrupted by\\nbrain fever, which attacked him when about halfway\\nto Bent s Fort. He jolted along through the rest of\\nthe journey in a baggage- wagon. When they came\\nto the fort he was taken out and left there, with the\\nrest of the sick. Bent s Fort does not supply the\\nbest accommodations for an invalid. Tete Rousfe s", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0414.jp2"}, "411": {"fulltext": "t\u00c2\u00a3te rouge, the volunteer. 383\\nsick-chamber was a little mud room, where he and\\na companion, attacked b}- the same disease, were\\nlaid together, with nothing but a buffalo-robe be-\\ntween them and the ground. The assistant-surgeon s\\ndeputy visited them once a day and brought them\\neach a huge dose of calomel, the only medicine,\\naccording to his surviving victim, with which he was\\nacquainted.\\nTete Rouge woke one morning, and turning to his\\ncompanion, saw his eyes fixed upon the beams above\\nwith the glassy stare of a dead man. At this the\\nunfortunate volunteer lost his senses outright. In\\nspite of the doctor, however, he eventually recovered\\nthough between the brain fever and the calomel, his\\nmind, originally none of the strongest, was so much\\nshaken that it had not quite recovered its balance\\nwhen we came to the fort. In spite of the poor\\nfellow s tragic stor}-, there was something so ludi-\\ncrous in his appearance, and the whimsical contrast\\nbetween his military dress and his most unmilitary\\ndemeanor, that we could not help smiling at them.\\nWe asked him if he had a gun. He said they had\\ntaken it from him during his illness, and he had not\\nseen it since; but perhaps, he observed, looking at\\nme with a beseeching air, you will lend me one of\\nyour big pistols if we should meet with any Indians.\\nI next inquired if he had a horse he declared he had\\na magnificent one, and at Shaw s request, a Mexican\\nled him in for inspection. He exhibited the outline\\nof a good horse, but his eyes were sunk in the", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0415.jp2"}, "412": {"fulltext": "384 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nsockets, and every one of his ribs could be counted.\\nThere were certain marks too about his shoulders,\\nwhich could be accounted for by the circumstance\\nthat, during Tete Rouge s illness, his companions had\\nseized upon the insulted charger, and harnessed him\\nto a cannon along v/ith the draft horses. To Tete\\nRouge s astonishment we recommended him by all\\nmeans to exchange the horse, if he could, for a mule.\\nFortunately the people at the fort were so anxious to\\nget rid of him that they were willing to make some\\nsacrifice to effect the object, and he succeeded in get-\\nting a tolerable mule in exchange for the broken-\\ndown steed.\\nA man soon appeared at tlie gate, leading in the\\nmule by a cord, which he placed in the hands of T^te\\nRouge, who, being somewhat afraid of his new\\nacquisition, tried various flatteries and blandishments\\nto induce her to come forward. The mule, knowing\\nthat she was expected to advance, stopped short in\\nconsequence, and stood fast as a rock, looking straight\\nforward with immovable composure. Being stimu-\\nlated by a blow from behind, she consented to move,\\nand walked nearly to the other side of the fort before\\nshe stopped again. Hearing the bystanders laugh,\\nTete Rouge plucked up spirit and tugged hard at\\nthe rope. The mule jerked backward, spun herself\\nround, and made a dash for the gate. Tete Rouge,\\nwho clung manfully to the rope, went whisking\\nthrough the air for a few rods, when he let go and\\nstood with his mouth open, staring after the mule,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0416.jp2"}, "413": {"fulltext": "t\u00c2\u00a3te rouge, the volunteer. 385\\nwhich galloped away over the prairie. She was soon\\ncaught and brought back by a Mexican, who mounted\\na horse and went in pursuit of her with his lasso.\\nHaving thus displayed his capacities for prairie\\ntravelling, Tete Rouge proceeded to supply himself\\nwith provisions for the journey, and with this view\\napplied to a quartermaster s assistant who was in the\\nfort. This official had a face as sour as vinegar,\\nbeing in a state of chronic indignation because he\\nhad been left behind the army. He was as anxious\\nas the rest to get rid of Tete Rouge. So, producing\\na rusty key, he opened a low door which led to a half\\nsubterranean apartment, into which the two disap-\\npeared together. After some time they came out\\nagain, Tete Rouge greatly embarrassed by a multi-\\nplicity of paper parcels containing the different\\narticles of his forty days rations. They were con-\\nsigned to the care of Deslauriers, who about that\\ntime passed by with the cart on his way to the\\nappointed place of meeting with Munroe and his\\ncompanions.\\nWe next urged Tete Rouge to provide himself, if\\nhe could, with a gun. He accordingly made earnest\\nappeals to the charity of various persons in the fort,\\nbut totally without success, a circumstance which\\ndid not greatly disturb us, since in the event of a\\nskirmish, he would be more apt to do mischief to\\nhimself or his friends than to the enemy. When all\\nthese arrangements were completed, we saddled our\\nhorses, and were preparing to leave the fort, when\\n25", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0417.jp2"}, "414": {"fulltext": "386 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nlooking round we discovered that our new associate\\nwas in fresh trouble. A man was holding the mule\\nfor him in the middle of the fort, while he tried to\\nput the saddle on her back, but she kept stepping\\nsideways and moving round and round in a circle\\nuntil he was almost in despair. It required some\\nassistance before all his difficulties could be over-\\ncome. At lengfth he clambered into the black war-\\nsaddle on which he was to have carried terror into\\nthe ranks of the Mexicans.\\nGet up, said Tete Rouge; come now, go along,\\nwill you?\\nThe mule walked deliberately forward out of the\\ngate. Her recent conduct had inspired him with so\\nmuch awe that he never dared to touch her with his\\nwhip. We trotted forward towards the place of meet-\\ning; but before we had gone far, we saw that Tete\\nRouge s mule, who perfectly understood her rider,\\nhad stopped and was quietly grazing, in spite of his\\nprotestations, at some distance behind. So getting\\nbehind him, we drove him and the contumacious\\nmule before us, until we could see through the twi-\\nlight the gleaming of a distant fire. Munroe, Jim,\\nand Ellis were lying around it; their saddles, packs,\\nand weapons were scattered about, and their horses\\npicketed near them. Deslauriers was there too with\\nour little cart. Another fire was soon blazing. We\\ninvited our new allies to take a cup of coffee with us.\\nWhen both the others had gone over to their side of\\nthe camp, Jim Gurney still stood by the blaze, puffing", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0418.jp2"}, "415": {"fulltext": "T^TE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER. 387\\nliard at his little black pipe, as short and weather-\\nbeaten as himself.\\nWell, he said, here are eight of us; we 11 call\\nit six for them two boobies, Ellis over yonder, and\\nthat new man of yours, won t count for anything.\\nWe 11 get through well enough, never fear for that,\\nunless the Comanches happen to get foul of us.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0419.jp2"}, "416": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXIII.\\nINDIAN ALARMS.\\nWe began our journey for the settlements on the\\ntwenty-seventh of August, and certainly a more raga-\\nmuffin cavalcade never was seen on the banks of the\\nUpper Arkansas. Of the large and fine horses with\\nwhich we had left the frontier in the spring, not one\\nremained: we had supplied their place with the\\nrough breed of the prairie, as hardy as mules and\\nalmost as ugly; we had also with us a number of the\\nlatter detestable animals. In spite of their strength\\nand hardihood, several of the band were already\\nworn down by hard service and hard fare, and as\\nnone of them were shod, they were fast becoming\\nfootsore. Every horse and mule had a cord of\\ntwisted bull-hide coiled about his neck, which by no\\nmeans added to the beauty of his appearance. Our\\nsaddles and all our equipments were worn and bat-\\ntered, and our weapons had become dull and rusty.\\nThe dress of the riders corresponded with the dilapi-\\ndated furniture of our horses, and of the whole party\\nnone made a more disreputable appearance than my\\nfriend and I. Shaw had for an upper garment an\\nold red flannel shirt, flying open in front, and belted", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0420.jp2"}, "417": {"fulltext": "INDIAX ALARMS. 389\\naround hiin like a frock while I, in absence of other\\nclothing, was attired in a time-worn suit of buck-\\nskin.\\nThus, hapjDy and careless as so many beggars, we\\ncrept slowly from day to day along the monotonous\\nbanks of the Arkansas. Tete Rouge gave constant\\ntrouble, for he could never catch his mule, saddle\\nher, or indeed do anything else without assistance.\\nEvery day he had some new ailment, real or imagi-\\nnary, to complain of. At one moment he would be\\nwoe-begone and disconsolate, and at the next he\\nwould be visited with a violent flow of spirits, to\\nwhich he could only give vent by incessant laughing,\\nwhistling, and telling stories. When other resources\\nfailed, w^e used to amuse ourselves by tormenting\\nhim a fair compensation for the trouble he cost us.\\nTete Rouge rather enjoyed being laughed at, for he\\nwas an odd compound of weakness, eccentricity and\\ngood-nature. He made a figure worthy of a painter\\nas he paced along before us, perched on the back of\\nhis mule, and enveloped in a huge buffalo-robe coat,\\nwhich some charitable person had given him at the\\nfort. This extraordinary garment, which would have\\ncontained two men of his size, he chose, for some\\nreason best known to himself, to wear inside out, and\\nhe never took it off, even in the hottest weather. It\\nwas fluttering all over with seams and tatters, and\\nthe hide was so old and rotten that it broke out every\\nday in a new place. Just at the top of it a large pile\\nof red curls was visible, with his little cap set jauntily", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0421.jp2"}, "418": {"fulltext": "390 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nupon one side, to give him a military air. His seat\\nin tlie saddle was no less remarkable than his person\\nand equipment. He pressed one leg close against his\\nmule s side, and thrust the other out at an angle of\\nforty-five degrees. His trousers were decorated with\\na military red stripe, of which he was extremely vain\\nbut being much too short, the whole length of his\\nboots was usually visible below them. His blanket,\\nloosely rolled up into a large bundle, dangled at the\\nback of his saddle, where he carried it tied with a\\nstring. Four or five times a day it would fall to the\\nground. Every few minutes he would drop his pipe,\\nhis knife, his flint and steel, or a piece of tobacco,\\nand scramble down to pick them up. In doing this\\nhe would contrive to get in everybody s way; and as\\nmost of the party were by no means remarkable for a\\nfastidious choice of language, a storm of anathemas\\nwould be showered upon him, half in earnest and\\nhalf in jest, until Tete Rouge would declare that\\nthere was no comfort in life, and that he never saw\\nsuch fellows before.\\nOnly a day or two after leaving Bent s Fort,\\nHenry Chatillon rode forward to hunt, and took Ellis\\nalong with him. After they had been some time\\nabsent we saw them coming down the hill, driving\\nthree dragoon-horses, which had escaped from their\\nowners on the march, or perhaps had given out and\\nbeen abandoned. One of them was in tolerable\\ncondition, but the others were much emaciated\\nand severely bitten by the wolves. Reduced as they", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0422.jp2"}, "419": {"fulltext": "INDIAN ALARMS. 391\\nwere, we carried two of them to the settlements, and\\nHenry exchanged the third with the Arapahoes for\\nan excellent mule.\\nOn the day after, when we had stopped to rest at\\nnoon, a long train of Santa \u00c2\u00a56 wagons came up and\\ntrailed slowly past us in their picturesque procession.\\nThey belonged to a trader named Magoffin, whose\\nbrother, with a number of other men, came and sat\\ndown with us on the grass. The news they brought\\nwas not of the most pleasing complexion. According\\nto their accounts, the trail below was in a very\\ndangerous state. They had repeatedly detected\\nIndians prowling at night around their camps; and\\nthe large party which had left Bent s Fort a few\\nweeks before us had been attacked, and a man\\nnamed Swan, from Massachusetts, had been killed.\\nHis companions had buried the body; but when\\nMagoffin found his grave, which was near a place\\ncalled The Caches, the Indians had dug up and\\nscalped him, and the wolves had shockingly mangled\\nhis remains. As an offset to this intelUgence, they\\ngave us the welcome information that the buffalo\\nwere numerous at a few days journey below.\\nOn the next afternoon, as we moved along the\\nbank of the river, we saw the white tops of wagons\\non the horizon. It was some hours before we met\\nthem, when they proved to be a train of clumsy ox-\\nwagons, quite different from the rakish vehicles of\\nthe Santa F4 traders, and loaded with government\\nstores for the troops. They all stopped, and the", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0423.jp2"}, "420": {"fulltext": "392 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ndrivers gathered around us in a crowd. Many of\\nthem were mere boys, fresh from the plough. In\\nrespect to the state of the trail, they confirmed all\\nthat the Santa \u00c2\u00a56 men had told us. In passing\\nbetween the Pawnee Fork and the Caches, their\\nsentinels had fired every night at real or imaginary\\nIndians. They said also that Ewing, a young Ken-\\ntuckian in the party that had gone down before us,\\nhad shot an Indian who was prowling at evening\\nabout the camp. Some of them advised us to turn\\nback, and others to hasten forward as fast as we could\\nbut they all seemed in such a state of feverish anxiety\\nand so little capable of cool judgment, that we\\nattached slight weight to what they said. They next\\ngave us a more definite piece of intelligence a large\\nvillage of Arapahoes was encamped on the river\\nbelow. They represented them to be friendly; but\\nsome distinction was to be made between a party of\\nthirty men, travelling with oxen, which are of no\\nvalue in an Indian s eyes, and a mere handful like\\nourselves, with a tempting band of mules and horses.\\nEarly in the afternoon of the next day, looking\\nalong the horizon before us, we saw that at one point\\nit was faintly marked with pale indentations, like the\\nteeth of a saw. The distant lodges of the Arapahoes,\\nrising between us and the sky, caused this singular\\nappearance. It wanted still two or three hours of\\nsunset when we came opposite their camp. There\\nwere full two hundred lodges standing in the midst\\nof a grassy meadow at some distance beyond the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0424.jp2"}, "421": {"fulltext": "INDIAN ALARMS. 393\\nriver, while for a mile around on both hanKs of the\\nArkansas were scattered some fifteen hundred horses\\nand mules, grazing together in bands, or wandering\\nsingly about the prairie. The whole were visible\\nat once, for the vast expanse was unbroken by hills,\\nand there was not a tree or a bush to intercept the\\nview.\\nHere and there walked an Indian, engaged in\\nwatching the horses. No sooner did we see them\\nthan Tete Rouge begged Deslauriers to stop the cart\\nand hand him liis military jacket, which was stowed\\naway there. In this he invested himself, having for\\nonce laid the old buffalo-coat aside, assumed a mar-\\ntial posture in the saddle, set his cap over his left\\neye with an air of defiance, and earnestly entreated\\nthat somebody would lend him a gun or a pistol only\\nfor half an hour. Being called upon to explain these\\nproceedings, Tete Rouge observed, that he knew from\\nexperience what effect the presence of a military man\\nin his uniform always has upon the mind of an Indian,\\nand he thought the Arapahoes ought to know that\\nthere was a soldier in the party.\\nMeeting Arapahoes here on the Arkansas was a\\nvery different thing from meeting the same Indians\\namong their native mountains. There was another\\ncircumstance in our favor. General Kearney had\\nseen them a few weeks before, as he came up the\\nriver with his army, and, renewing his threats of the\\nprevious year, he told them that if they ever again\\ntouched the hair of a white man s head he would", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0425.jp2"}, "422": {"fulltext": "394 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nexterminate their nation. This placed them for the\\ntime in an admirable frame of mind, and the effect of\\nhis menaces had not yet disappeared. I wished to\\n6ee the village and its inhabitants. We thought it\\nalso our best policy to visit them openly, as if unsus-\\npicious of any hostile design; and Shaw and I, with\\nHenry Chatillon, prepared to cross the river. The\\nrest of the party meanwhile moved forward as fast as\\nthey could, in order to get as far as possible from our\\nsuspicious neighbors before night came on.\\nThe Arkansas at this point, and for several hun-\\ndred miles below, is nothing but a broad sand-bed,\\nover which glide a few scanty threads of water, now\\nand then expanding into wide shallows. At several\\nplaces, during the autumn, the water sinks into the\\nsand and disappears altogether. At this season,\\nwere it not for the numerous quicksands, the river\\nmight be forded almost anywhere without difficulty,\\nthough its channel is often a quarter of a mile wide.\\nOur horses jumped down the bank, and wading\\nthrough the water, or galloping freely over the hard\\nsand-beds, soon reached the other side. Here, as we\\nwere pushing through the tall grass, we saw several\\nIndians not far off; one of them waited until we\\ncame up, and stood for some moments in perfect\\nsilence before us, looking at us askance with his little\\nsnake-like eyes. Henry explained by signs what we\\nwanted, and the Indian, gathering his buffalo-robe\\nabout his shoulders, led the way towards the village\\nwithout speaking a word.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0426.jp2"}, "423": {"fulltext": "INDIAN ALARMS. 395\\nThe language of the Arapahoes is so difficult, and\\nits pronunciation so harsh and guttural, that no\\nwhite man, it is said, has ever been able to master it.\\nEven Maxwell, the trader who has been most among\\nthem, is compelled to resort to the curious sign-\\nlanguage common to most of the prairie tribes. With\\nthis sign-language Henry Chatillon was perfectly-\\nacquainted.\\nApproaching the village, we found the ground\\nstrewn with piles of waste buffalo-meat in incredible\\nquantities. The lodges were pitched in a circle.\\nThey resembled those of the Dahcotah in everything\\nbut cleanliness. Passing between two of them, we\\nentered the great circular area of the camp, and\\ninstantly hundreds of Indians, men, women, and\\nchildren, came flocking out of their habitations to\\nlook at us at the same time, the dogs all around the\\nvillage set up a discordant baying. Our Indian guide\\nwalked towards the lodge of the chief. Here we\\ndismounted; and loosening the trail-ropes from our\\nhorses necks, held them fast as we sat down before\\nthe entrance, with our rifles laid across our laps.\\nThe chief came out and shook us by the hand. He\\nwas a mean-looking fellow, very tall, thin-visaged,\\nand sinewy, like the rest of the nation, and with\\nscarcely a vestige of clothing. We had not been\\nseated a moment before a multitude of Indians came\\ncrowding around us from every part of the village,\\nand we were shut in by a dense wall of savage faces.\\nSome of our visitors crouched around us on the", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0427.jp2"}, "424": {"fulltext": "396 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nground; others sat behind them; others, stooping,\\nlooked over their heads; while many more stood\\nbehind, peering over each other s shoulders, to get a\\nview of us. I looked in vain among this throng of\\nfaces to discover one manly or generous expression;\\nall were wolfish, sinister, and malignant, and their\\ncomplexions, as well as their features, unlike those\\nof the Dahcotah, were exceedingly bad. The chief,\\nwho sat close to the entrance, called to a squaw\\nwithin the lodge, who soon came out and placed a\\nwooden bowl of meat before us. To our surprise,\\nhowever, no pipe was offered. Having tasted of the\\nmeat as a matter of form, I began to open a bundle\\nof presents, tobacco, knives, vermilion, and other\\narticles which I had brought with me. At this there\\nwas a grin on every countenance in the rapacious\\ncrowd; their eyes began to glitter, and long thin\\narms were eagerly stretched towards us on all sides\\nto receive the gifts.\\nThe Arapahoes set great value upon their shields,\\nwhich they transmit carefully from father to son. I\\nwished to get one of them; and displaying a large\\npiece of scarlet cloth, together with some tobacco\\nand a knife, I offered them to any one who would\\nbring me what I wanted. After some delay a toler-\\nable shield was produced. They were very anxious\\nto know what we meant to do with it, and Henry\\ntold them that we were going to fight their enemies\\nthe Pawnees. This instantly produced a visible\\nimpression in our favor, which was increased by the", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0428.jp2"}, "425": {"fulltext": "INDIAN ALARMS. 397\\ndistribution of the presents. Among these was a\\nlarge paper of awls, a gift appropriate to the women;\\nand as we were anxious to see the beauties of the\\nArapahoe village, Henry requested that they might\\nbe called to receive them. A warrior gave a shout,\\nas if he were calling a pack of dogs together. The\\nsquaws, young and old, hags of eighty and girls of\\nsixteen, came running with screams and laughter out\\nof the lodges and as the men gave way for them,\\nthey gathered round us and stretched out their arms,\\ngrinning with delight, their native ugliness consider-\\nably enhanced by the excitement of the moment.\\nMounting our horses, which during the whole\\ninterview we had held close to us, we prepared to\\nleave the Arapahoes. The crowd fell back on each\\nside, and stood looking on. When we were half\\nacross the camp an idea occurred to us. The\\nPawnees were probably in the neighborhood of the\\nCaches; we might tell the Arapahoes of this, and\\ninstigate them to send down a war-party and cut\\nthem off, while we ourselves could remain behind\\nfor a while and hunt the buffalo. At first thought,\\nthis plan of setting our enemies to destroy one another\\nseemed to us a master-piece of policy but we imme-\\ndiately recollected that should we meet the Arapahoe\\nwarriors on the river below, they might prove quite\\nas dangerous as the Pawnees themselves. So reject-\\ning our plan as soon as it presented itself, we passed\\nout of the village on the farther side. We urged\\nour horses rapidly through the tall grass, which rose", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0429.jp2"}, "426": {"fulltext": "398 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nto their necks. Several Indians were walking through\\nit at a distance, their heads just visible above its\\nwaving surface. It bore a kind of seed, as sweet and\\nnutritious as oats and our hungry horses, in spite of\\nwhip and rein, could not resist the temptation of\\nsnatching at this unwonted luxury as we passed along.\\nWhen about a mile from the village, I turned and\\nlooked back over the undulating ocean of grass. The\\nsun was just set; the western sky was all in a glow,\\nand sharply defined against it, on the extreme verge\\nof the plain, stood the clustered lodges of the Arapahoe\\ncamp.\\nReaching the bank of the river, we followed it for\\nsome distance farther, until we discerned through\\nthe twilight the white covering of our little cart on\\nthe opposite bank. When we reached it we found\\na considerable number of Indians there before us.\\nFour or five of them were seated in a row upon the\\nground, looking like so many half-starved vultures.\\nTete Rouge, in his uniform, was holding a close\\ncolloquy with another by the side of the cart. Find-\\ning his signs and gesticulation of no avail, he tried\\nto make the Indian understand him by repeating\\nEnglish words very loudly and distinctly again and\\nagain. The Indian sat with his eye fixed steadily\\nupon him, and in spite of the rigid immobility of his\\nfeatures, it was clear at a glance that he perfectly\\nunderstood and despised his military companion.\\nThe exhibition was more amusing than politic, and\\nTete Rouge was directed to finish what he had to say", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0430.jp2"}, "427": {"fulltext": "INDIAN ALARMS. 399\\nas soon as possible. Thus reLuked, he crept under\\nthe cart and sat down there Henry Chatillon stooped\\nto look at him in his retirement, and remarked in his\\nquiet manner that an Indian would kill ten such men\\nand laugh all the time.\\nOne by one our visitors arose and stalked away.\\nAs the darkness thickened we were saluted by dis-\\nmal sounds. The wolves are incredibly numerous\\nin this part of the country, and the offal around the\\nArapahoe camp had drawn such multitudes of them\\ntogether that several hundreds were howling in con-\\ncert in our immediate neighborhood. There was an\\nisland in the river, or rather an oasis in the midst of\\nthe sands, at about the distance of a gun-shot, and\\nhere they seemed to be gathered in the greatest num-\\nbers. A horrible discord of low mournful wailings,\\nmingled with ferocious howls, arose from it inces-\\nsantly for several hours after sunset. We could dis-\\ntinctly see the wolves running about the prairie\\nwithin a few rods of our fire, or bounding over the\\nsand-beds of the river and splashing through the\\nwater. There was not the slightest danger from\\nthem, for they are the greatest cowards on the\\nprairie.\\nIn respect to the human wolves in our neighbor-\\nhood, we felt much less at our ease. That night\\neach man spread his buffalo-robe upon the ground\\nwith his loaded rifle laid at his side or clasped in his\\narms. Our horses were picketed so close around us\\nthat one of them repeatedly stepped over me as I lay.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0431.jp2"}, "428": {"fulltext": "400 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nWe were not in the habit of placing a guard, but\\nevery man was anxious and watchful there was little\\nsound sleeping in camp, and some one of the party-\\nwas on his feet during the greater part of the night.\\nFor myself, I lay alternately waking and dozing until\\nmidnight. Tete Rouge was reposing close to the\\nriver-bank, and about this time, when half asleep and\\nhalf awake, I was conscious that he shifted his posi-\\ntion and crept on all-fours under the cart. Soon\\nafter I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was\\nroused by a hand shaking me by the shoulder.\\nLooking up, I saw Tete Rouge stooping over me\\nwith a pale face and dilated eyes.\\nWhat s the matter? said I.\\nTete Rouge declared that as he lay on the river-\\nbank, something caught his eye which excited his\\nsuspicions. So creeping under the cart for safety s\\nsake, he sat there and watched, when he saw two\\nIndians, wrapped in white robes, creep up the bank,\\nseize upon two horses and lead them off. He looked\\nso frightened and told his story in such a disconnected\\nmanner that I did not believe him, and was unwilling\\nto alarm the party. Still, it might be true, and in\\nthat case the matter required instant attention. So,\\ndirecting Tete Rouge to show me which way the\\nIndians had gone, I took my rifle, in obedience to a\\nthoughtless impulse, and left the camp. I followed\\nthe river-bank for two or three hundred yards, listen-\\ning and looking anxiously on every side. In the\\ndark prairie on the right I could discern nothing to", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0432.jp2"}, "429": {"fulltext": "INDIAN ALARMS. 401\\nexcite alarm; and in the dusky bed of the river, a\\nwolf was bounding along in a manner which no Indian\\ncould imitate. I returned to the camp, and when\\nwithin sight of it, saw that the whole party was\\naroused. Shaw called out to me that he had counted\\nthe horses, and that every one of them was in his\\nplace. Tete Rouge, being examined as to what he\\nhad seen, only repeated his former story with many\\nasseverations, and insisted that two horses were\\ncertainly carried off. At this Jim Gurney declared\\nthat he was crazy; Tete Rouge indignantly denied\\nthe charge, on which Jim appealed to us. As we\\ndeclined to give our judgment on so delicate a matter,\\nthe dispute grew hot between Tete Rouge and his\\naccuser, until he was directed to go to bed and not\\nalarm the camp again if he saw the whole Arapahoe\\nvillage coming.\\n86", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0433.jp2"}, "430": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXIV.\\nTHE CHASE.\\nThe country before us was now thronged with\\nbuffalo, and a sketch of the manner of hunting them\\nwill not be out of place. There are two methods\\ncommonly practised, running and approaching.\\nThe chase on horseback, which goes by the name of\\nrunning, is the more violent and dashing mode of\\nthe two, that is to say, when the buffalo are in one\\nof their wild moods for otherwise it is tame enough.\\nA practised and skilful hunter, well mounted, will\\nsometimes kill five or six cows in a single chase,\\nloading his gun again and again as his horse rushes\\nthrough the tumult. In attacking a small band of\\nbuffalo, or in separating a single animal from the\\nherd and assailing it apart from the rest, there is less\\nexcitement and less danger. In fact, the animals are\\nat times so stupid and lethargic that there is little\\nsport in killing them. With a bold and well-trained\\nhorse the hunter may ride so close to the buffalo that\\nas they gallop side by side he may touch him with\\nhis hand nor is there much danger in this as long as\\nthe buffalo s strength and breath continue unabated\\nbut when he becomes tired and can no longer run", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0434.jp2"}, "431": {"fulltext": "THE CHASE. 403\\nwith ease, wlien his tongue lolls out and the foam\\nflies from his jaws, then the hunter had better keep a\\nmore respectful distance the distressed brute may\\nturn upon him at any instant and especially at the\\nmoment when he fires his gun. The horse then leaps\\naside, and the hunter has need of a tenacious seat in\\nthe saddle, for if he is thrown to the ground there is\\nno hope for him. When he sees his attack defeated,\\nthe buffalo resumes his flight, but if the shot is well\\ndirected he soon stops for a few moments he stands\\nstill, then totters and falls heavily upon the prairie.\\nThe chief difficulty in running buffalo, as it seems\\nto me, is that of loading the gun or pistol at full\\ngallop. Many hunters for convenience sake carry\\nthree or four bullets in the mouth; the powder is\\npoured down the muzzle of the piece, the bullet\\ndropped in after it, the stock struck hard upon the\\npommel of the saddle, and the work is done. The\\ndanger of this is obvious. Should the blow on\\nthe pommel fail to send the bullet home, or should\\nthe bullet, in the act of aiming, start from its place\\nand roll towards the muzzle, the gun would probably\\nburst in discharging. Many a shattered hand and\\nworse casualties besides have been the result of such\\nan accident. To obviate it, some hunters make use\\nof a ramrod, usually hung by a string from the neck,\\nbut this materially increases the difficulty of loading.\\nThe bows and arrows which the Indians use in run-\\nning buffalo have many advantages over firearms,\\nand even white men occasionally employ them.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0435.jp2"}, "432": {"fulltext": "404 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nThe danger of the chase arises not so much from\\nthe onset of the wounded animal as from the nature\\nof the ground which the hunter must ride over. The\\nprairie does not always present a smooth, level, and\\nuniform surface; very often it is broken with hills\\nand hollows, intersected by ravines, and in the\\nremoter parts studded by the stiif wild-sage bushes.\\nThe most formidable obstructions, however, are the\\nburrows of wild animals, wolves, badgers, and par-\\nticularly prairie-dogs, with whose holes the ground\\nfor a very great extent is frequently honeycombed.\\nIn the blindness of the chase the hunter rushes over\\nit unconscious of danger; his horse, at full career,\\nthrusts his leg deep into one of the burrows; the\\nbone snaps, the rider is hurled forward to the ground\\nand probably killed. Yet accidents in buffalo run-\\nning happen less frequently than one would suppose;\\nin the recklessness of the chase, the hunter enjoys\\nall the impunity of a drunken man, and may ride in\\nsafety over gullies and declivities, where, should he\\nattempt to pass in his sober senses, he would infallibly\\nbreak his neck.\\nThe method of approaching, being practised on\\nfoot, has many advantages over that of running\\nin the former, one neither breaks down his horse nor\\nendangers his own life; he must be cool, collected,\\nand watchful; must understand the buffalo, observe\\nthe features of the country and the course of the\\nwind, and be well skilled in using the rifle. The\\nbuffalo are strange animals; sometimes they are so", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0436.jp2"}, "433": {"fulltext": "THE CHASE. 405\\nstupid and infatuated that a man may walk up to\\nthem in full sight on the open prairie, and even shoot\\nseveral of their number before the rest will think it\\nnecessary to retreat. At another moment they will\\nbe so shy and wary that in order to approach them\\nthe utmost skill, experience, and judgment are neces-\\nsary. Kit Carson, I believe, stands pre-eminent in\\nrunning buffalo; in approaching, no man living can\\nbear away the palm from Henry Chatillon.\\nAfter Tete Rouge had alarmed the camp, no\\nfarther disturbance occurred during the night. The\\nArapahoes did not attempt mischief, or if they did\\nthe wakefulness of the party deterred them from\\neffecting their purpose. The next day was one of\\nactivity and excitement, for about ten o clock the\\nman in advance shouted the gladdening cry of buffalo^\\nhuffalo and in the hollow of the prairie just below\\nus, a band of bulls were grazing. The temptation\\nwas irresistible, and Shaw and I rode down upon\\nthem. We were badly mounted on our travelling\\nhorses, but by hard lashing we overtook them, and\\nShaw, running alongside a bull, shot into him both\\nballs of his double-barrelled gun. Looking round as\\nI galloped by, I saw the bull in his mortal fury rush-\\ning again and again upon his antagonist, whose horse\\nconstantly leaped aside, and avoided the onset. My\\nchase was more protracted, but at length I ran close\\nto the bull and killed him with my pistols. Cutting\\noff the tails of our victims by way of trophy, we\\nrejoined the party in about a quarter of an hour after", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0437.jp2"}, "434": {"fulltext": "406 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwe had left it. Again and again that morning rang\\nout the same welcome cry of huffalo^ huffalo Every\\nfew moments, in the broad meadows along the river,\\nwe saw bands of bulls, who, raising their shaggy\\nheads, would gaze in stupid amazement at the ap-\\nproaching horsemen, and then breaking into a clumsy\\ngallop, file off in a long line across the trail in front,\\ntowards the rising prairie on the left. At noon, the\\nplain before us was alive with thousands of buffalo,\\nbulls, cows, and calves, all moving rapidly as we\\ndrew near; and far off beyond the river the swelling\\nprairie was darkened with them to the very horizon.\\nThe party was in gayer spirits than ever. We\\nstopped for a nooning near a grove of trees by the\\nriver.\\nTongues and hump-ribs to-morrow, said Shaw,\\nlooking with contempt at the venison steaks which\\nDeslauriers placed before us. Our meal finished, we\\nlay down to sleep. A shout from Henry Chatillon\\naroused us, and we saw him standing on the cart-\\nwheel, stretching his tall figure to its full height,\\nwhile he looked towards the prairie beyond the river.\\nFollowing the direction of his eyes, we could clearly\\ndistinguish a large dark object, like the black shadow\\nof a cloud, passing rapidly over swell after swell of\\nthe distant plain; behind it followed another of\\nsimilar appearance, though smaller, moving more\\nrapidly, and drawing closer and closer to the first.\\nIt was the hunters of the Arapahoe camp chasing a\\nband of buffalo. Shaw and I caught and saddled our", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0438.jp2"}, "435": {"fulltext": "THE CHASE. 407\\nbest horses, and went plunging tlirougk sand and\\nwater to the farther bank. We were too late. The\\nhunters had already mingled with the herd, and the\\nwork of slaughter was nearly over. When we reached\\nthe ground we found it strewn far and near with\\nnumberless carcasses, while the remnants of the herd,\\nscattered in all directions, were flying away in terror,\\nand the Indians still rushing in pursuit. Many of\\nthe hunters, however, remained upon the spot, and\\namong the rest was our yesterday s acquaintance, the\\nchief of the village. He had alighted by the side of\\na cow, into which he had shot five or six arrows, and\\nhis squaw, who had followed him on horseback to the\\nhunt, was giving him a draught of water from a can-\\nteen, purchased or plundered from some volunteer\\nsoldier. Recrossing the river, we overtook the party,\\nwho were already on their way.\\nWe had gone scarcely a mile when we saw an\\nimposing spectacle. From the river-bank on the\\nright, away over the swelling prairie on the left, and\\nin front as far as the eye could reach, was one vast\\nhost of buffalo. The outskirts of the herd were\\nwithin a quarter of a mile. In many parts they were\\ncrowded so densely together that in the distance their\\nrounded backs presented a surface of uniform black-\\nness; but elsewhere they were more scattered, and\\nfrom amid the multitude rose little columns of dust\\nwhere some of them were rolling on the ground.\\nHere and there a battle was going forward among the\\nbulls. We could distinctly see them rushing against", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0439.jp2"}, "436": {"fulltext": "408 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\neach other, and hear the chittering of their horns and\\ntheir hoarse bellowing. Shaw was riding at some\\ndistance in advance, with Henry Chatillon; I saw\\nhim stop and cbaw the leather covering from his gun.\\nWith such a sight before us, but one thing could be\\nthought of. That morning I had used pistols in the\\nchase. I had now a mind to try the virtue of a gun.\\nDeslauriers had one, and I rode up to the side of the\\ncart; there he sat under the white covering, bit-\\ning his pipe between his teeth and grinning with\\nexcitement.\\nLend me your gun, Deslauriers.\\nOui, Monsieur, oui, said Deslauriers, tugging\\nwith might and main to stop the mule, which seemed\\nobstinately bent on going forward. Then everything\\nbut his moccasons disappeared as he crawled into the\\ncart and pulled at the gun to extricate it.\\nIs it loaded? I asked.\\nOui, bien charg^; you ll kill, mon bourgeois;\\nyes, you ll kill c est un bon fusil.\\nI handed him my rifle and rode forward to Shaw.\\nAre you read}^? he asked.\\nCome on, said I.\\nKeep down that hollow, said Henry, and then\\nthey won t see you till you get close to them.\\nThe hollow was a kind of wide ravine; it ran\\nobliquely towards the buffalo, and we rode at a canter\\nalong the bottom until it became too shallow; then\\nwe bent close to our horses necks, and, at last,\\nfinding that it could no longer conceal us, came out", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0440.jp2"}, "437": {"fulltext": "THE CHASE. 409\\nof it and rode directly towards the herd. It was\\nwithin gunshot before its outskirts, numerous grizzly\\nold bulls were scattered, holding guard over their\\nfemales. They glared at us in anger and astonish-\\nment, walked towards us a few yards, and then turn-\\ning slowly round, retreated at a trot which afterwards\\nbroke into a clumsy gallop. In an instant the main\\nbody caught the alarm. The buffalo began to crowd\\naway from the point towards which we were approach-\\ning, and a gap was opened in the side of the herd.\\nWe entered it, still restraining our excited horses.\\nEvery instant the tumult was thickening. The\\nbuffalo, pressing together in large bodies, crowded\\naway from us on every hand. In front and on either\\nside we could see dark columns and masses, half\\nhidden by clouds of dust, rushing along in terror and\\nconfusion, and hear the tramp and clattering of ten\\nthousand hoofs. That countless multitude of power-\\nful brutes, ignorant of their own strength, were flying\\nin a panic from the approach of two feeble horsemen.\\nTo remain quiet longer was impossible.\\nTake that band on the left, said Shaw; I ll\\ntake these in front.\\nHe sprang off, and I saw no more of him. A\\nheavy Indian whip was fastened by a band to my\\nwrist; I swung it into the air and lashed my horse s\\nflank with all the strength of my arm. Away she\\ndarted, stretching close to the ground. I could see\\nnothing but a cloud of dust before me, but I knew\\nthat it concealed a band of many hundreds of buffalo.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0441.jp2"}, "438": {"fulltext": "410 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nIn a moment I was in the midst of the cloud, half\\nsuffocated by the dust and stunned by the trampling\\nof the flying herd; but I was drunk with the chase\\nand cared for nothing but the buffalo. Very soon a\\nlong dark mass became visible, looming through the\\ndust; then I could distinguish each bulky carcass,\\nthe hoofs flying out beneath, the short tails held\\nrigidly erect. In a moment I was so close that I\\ncould have touched them with my gun. Suddenly, to\\nmy amazement, the hoofs were jerked upwards, the\\ntails flourished in the air, and amid a cloud of dust\\nthe buffalo seemed to sink into the earth before me.\\nOne vivid impression of that instant remains upon my\\nmind. I remember looking down upon the backs of\\nseveral buffalo dimly visible through the dust. We\\nhad run unawares upon a ravine. At that moment I\\nwas not the most accurate judge of depth and width,\\nbut when I passed it on my return, I found it about\\ntwelve feet deep and not quite twice as wide at the\\nbottom. It was impossible to stop; I would have\\ndone so gladly if I could so, half sliding, half plun-\\nging, down went the little mare. She came down on\\nher knees in the loose sand at the bottom; I was\\npitched forward against her neck and nearly thrown\\nover her head among the buffalo, who amid dust and\\nconfusion came tumbling in all around. The mare\\nwas on her feet in an instant and scrambling like a\\ncat up the opposite side. I thought for a moment\\nthat she would have fallen l)ack and crushed me, but\\nwith a violent effort she clambered out and gained", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0442.jp2"}, "439": {"fulltext": "THE CHASE. 411\\nthe hard prairie above. Ghincing back, I saw the\\nhuge head of a bull clinging as it were by the forefeet\\nat the edge of the dusty gulf. At length I was fairly\\namong the buffalo. They were less densely crowded\\nthan before, and I could see nothing but bulls, who\\nalways run at the rear of a herd to protect their\\nfemales. As I passed among them they would lower\\ntheir heads, and turning as they ran, try to gore my\\nhorse but as they were already at full speed there\\nwas no force in their onset, and as Pauline ran faster\\nthan they, they were always thrown behind her in\\nthe effort. I soon began to distinguish cows amid\\nthe throng. One just in front of me seemed to my\\nliking, and I pushed close to her side. Dropping the\\nreins, I fired, holding the muzzle of the gun within a\\nfoot of her shoulder. Quick as lightning she sprang\\nat Pauline the little mare dodged the attack, and I\\nlost sight of the wounded animal amid the tumult.\\nImmediately after, I selected another, and urging\\nforward Pauline, shot into her both pistols in succes-\\nsion. For a while I kept her in view, but in attempt-\\ning to load my gun, lost sight of her also in the\\nconfusion. Believing her to be mortally wounded\\nand unable to keep up with the herd, I checked my\\nhorse. The crowd rushed onwards. The dust and\\ntumult passed away, and on the prairie, far behind\\nthe rest, I saw a solitary buffalo galloping heavily.\\nIn a moment I and my victim were running side by\\nside. My firearms were all empty, and I had in\\nmy pouch nothing but rifle bullets, too large for the", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0443.jp2"}, "440": {"fulltext": "412 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\npistols and too small for the gun. I loaded the gun,\\nhowever, but as often as I levelled it to fire, the\\nbullets would roll out of the muzzle and the gun\\nreturned only a report like a squib, as the powder\\nharmlessly exploded. I rode in front of the buffalo\\nand tried to turn her back; but her eyes glared, her\\nmane bristled, and, lowering her head, she rushed at\\nme with the utmost fierceness and activity. Again\\nand again I rode before her, and again and again she\\nrepeated her furious charge. But little Pauline was\\nin her element. She dodged her enemy at every\\nrush, until at length the buffalo stood still, exhausted\\nwith her own efforts, her tongue lolling from her jaws.\\nRiding to a little distance, I dismounted, thinking\\nto gather a handful of dry grass to serve the purpose\\nof wadding, and load the gun at my leisure. No\\nsooner were my feet on the ground than the buffalo\\ncame bounding in such a rage towards me that I\\njumped back again into the saddle with all possible\\ndespatch. After waiting a few minutes more, I\\nmade an attempt to ride up and stab her with my\\nknife; but Pauline was near being gored in the\\nattempt. At length, bethinking me of the fringes at\\nthe seams of my buckskin trousers, I jerked off a\\nfew of them, and, reloading the gun, forced them\\ndown the barrel to keep the bullet in its place then\\napproaching, I shot the wounded buffalo tlirough the\\nheart. Sinking to her knees, she rolled over lifeless\\non the prairie. To my astonishment, I found that,\\ninstead of a cow, I had been slaughtering a stout", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0444.jp2"}, "441": {"fulltext": "THE CHASE. 413\\nyearling bull. No longer wondering at his fierceness,\\nI opened his throat, and cutting out his tongue, tied\\nit at the back of my saddle. ]\\\\Iy mistake was one\\nwhich a more experienced eye than mine might easily\\nmake in the dust and confusion of such a chase.\\nThen for the first time I had leisure to look at the\\nscene around me. The prairie in front was darkened\\nwith the retreating multitude, and on either hand\\nthe buffalo came filing up in endless columns from\\nthe low plains upon the river. The Arkansas was\\nthree or four miles distant. I turned and moved\\nslowly towards it. A long time passed before, far in\\nthe distance, I distinguished the white covering of\\nthe cart and the little black specks of horsemen before\\nand behind it. Drawing near, I recognized Shaw s\\nelegant tunic, the red flannel shirt, conspicuous far\\noff. I overtook the party, and asked him what suc-\\ncess he had had. He had assailed a fat cow, shot\\nher with two bullets, and mortally wounded her.\\nBut neither of us was prepared for the chase that\\nafternoon, and Shaw, like myself, had no spare\\nbullets in his pouch; so he abandoned the disabled\\nanimal to Henry Chatillon, who followed, despatched\\nher with his rifle, and loaded his horse with the\\nmeat.\\nWe encamped close to the river. The night was\\ndark, and as we lay down we could hear, mingled\\nwith the bowlings of wolves, the hoarse bellowing of\\nthe buffalo, like the ocean beating upon a distant\\ncoast.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0445.jp2"}, "442": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXV.\\nTHE BUFFALO CAMP,\\nNo one in the camp was more active than Jim\\nGurney, and no one half so lazy as Ellis. Between\\nthese two there was a great antipathy. Ellis never\\nstirred in the morning until he was compelled, but\\nJim was always on his feet before daybreak and this\\nmorning as usual the sound of his voice awakened\\nthe party.\\nGet up, you booby up with you now, you re\\nfit for nothing but eating and sleeping. Stop your\\ngrumbling and come out of that buffalo-robe, or I 11\\npull it off for you.\\nJim s words were interspersed with numerous\\nexpletives, which gave them great additional effect.\\nEllis drawled out something in a nasal tone from\\namong the folds of his buffalo-robe then slowly dis-\\nengaged himself, rose into a sitting posture, stretched\\nhis long arms, yawned hideously, and, finally raising\\nhis tall person erect, stood staring about him to all\\nthe four quarters of the horizon. Deslauriers s fire\\nwas soon blazing, and the horses and mules, loosened\\nfrom their pickets, were feeding on the neighboring\\nmeadow. When we sat down to breakfast the prairie", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0446.jp2"}, "443": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 415\\nwas still in the dusky light of morning and as the\\nsun rose we were mounted and on our way again.\\nA white buffalo! exclaimed Munroe.\\nI ll have that fellow, said Shaw, if I run my\\nhorse to death after him.\\nHe threw the cover of his gun to Deslauriers and\\ngalloped out upon the prairie.\\nStop, Mr. Shaw, stop called out Henry Chatil-\\nlon, you ll run down your horse for nothing; it s\\nonly a white ox.\\nBut Shaw was already out of hearing. The ox,\\nwhich had no doubt strayed away from some of the\\ngovernment wagon trains, was standing beneath some\\nlow hills which bounded the plain in the distance.\\nNot far from him a band of veritable buffalo bulls\\nwere grazing; and startled at Shaw s approach, they\\nall broke into a run, and went scrambling up the hill-\\nsides to gain the high prairie above. One of them in\\nhis haste and terror involved himself in a fatal catas-\\ntrophe. Along the foot of the hills was a narrow\\nstrip of deep marshy soil, into which the bull plunged\\nand hopelessly entangled himself. We all rode to\\nthe spot. The huge carcass was half sunk in the\\nmud, which flowed to his very chin, and his shaggy\\nmane was outspread upon the surface. As we came\\nnear, the bull began to struggle with convulsive\\nstrength he writhed to and fro, and in the energy of\\nhis fright and desperation would lift himself for a\\nmoment half out of the slough, while the reluctant\\nmire returned a sucking sound as he strained to drag", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0447.jp2"}, "444": {"fulltext": "416 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhis limbs from its tenacious depths. We stimulated\\nhis exertions by getting behind him and twisting his\\ntail; nothing would do. There was clearly no hope\\nfor him. After every effort his heaving sides were\\nmore deeply imbedded, and the mire almost over-\\nflowed his nostrils he lay still at length, and look-\\ning round at us with a furious eye, seemed to resign\\nhimself to his fate. Ellis slowly dismounted, and,\\nlevelling his boasted yager, shot the old bull through\\nthe heart; then lazily climbed back again to his seat,\\npluming himself no doubt on having actually killed\\na buffalo. That day the invincible yager drew blood\\nfor the first and last time during the whole journey.\\nThe morning was a bright and gay one, and the\\nair so clear that on the farthest horizon the outline of\\nthe pale blue prairie was sharply drawn against the\\nsky. Shaw was in the mood for hunting he rode in\\nadvance of the party, and before long we saw a file\\nof bulls galloping at full speed upon a green swell of\\nthe prairie at some distance in front. Shaw came\\nscouring along behind them, arrayed in his red shirt,\\nwhich looked very well in the distance; he gained\\nfast on the fugitives, and as the foremost bull was\\ndisappearing behind the summit of the swell, we saw\\nhim in the act of assailing the hindmost; a smoke\\nsprang from the muzzle of his gun and floated away\\nbefore the wind like a little white cloud; the bull\\nturned upon him, and just then the rising ground\\nconcealed them both from view.\\nWe were moving forward until about noon, when", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0448.jp2"}, "445": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 417\\nwe stopped by the side of the Arkansas. At that\\nmoment Shaw appeared riding slowly down the side\\nof a distant hill his horse was tired and jaded, and\\nwhen he threw his saddle upon the ground, I observed\\nthat the tails of two bulls were dangling behind it.\\nNo sooner were the horses turned loose to feed than\\nHenry, asking Munroe to go with him, took his rifle\\nand walked quietly away. Shaw, Tete Rouge, and\\nI sat down by the side of the cart to discuss the dinner\\nwhich Deslauriers placed before us, and we had\\nscarcely finished when we saw Munroe walking\\ntowards us along the river-bank. Henry, he said,\\nhad killed four fat cows, and had sent him back for\\nhorses to bring in the meat. Shaw took a horse for\\nhimself and another for Henry, and he and Munroe\\nleft the camp together. After a short absence all\\nthree of them came back, their horses loaded with\\nthe choicest parts of the meat. We kept two of the\\ncows for ourselves, and gave the others to Munroe\\nand his companions. Deslauriers seated himself on\\nthe grass before the pile of meat, and worked indus-\\ntriously for some time to cut it into thin broad sheets\\nfor drying, an art in which he had all the skill of an\\nIndian squaw. Long before night, cords of raw hide\\nwere stretched around the camp, and the meat was\\nhung upon them to dry in the sunshine and pure air\\nof the prairie. Our California companions were less\\nsuccessful at the work; but they accomplished it after\\ntheir own fashion, and their side of the camp was\\nsoon garnished in the same manner as our own.\\n27", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0449.jp2"}, "446": {"fulltext": "418 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nWe meant to remain at this place long enough to\\nprepare provisions for our journey to the frontier,\\nwhich, as we supposed, might occupy about a month.\\nHad the distance been twice as great and the party\\nten times as large, the rifle of Henry Chatillon would\\nhave supplied meat enough for the whole within two\\ndays; we were obliged to remain, however, until it\\nshould be dry enough for transportation; so we\\npitched our tent and made other arrangements for a\\npermanent camp. The California men, who had no\\nsuch shelter, contented themselves with arranging\\ntheir packs on the grass around their fire. In the\\nmean time we had nothing to do but amuse ourselves.\\nOur tent was within a rod of the river, if the broad\\nsand-beds, with a scanty stream of water coursing\\nhere and there along their surface, deserve to be\\ndignified with the name of river. The vast flat plains\\non either side were almost on a level with the sand-\\nbeds, and they were bounded in the distance by low,\\nmonotonous hills, parallel to the course of the stream.\\nAll was one expanse of grass there was no wood in\\nview, except some trees and stunted bushes upon two\\nislands which rose from the wet sands of the river.\\nYet far from being dull and tame, the scene was\\noften a wild and animated one for twice a day, at\\nsunrise and at noon, the buffalo came issuing from\\nthe hills, slowly advancing in their grave processions\\nto drink at the river. All our amusements were to\\nbe at their expense. An old buffalo bull is a brute\\nof unparalleled ugliness. At first sight of him every", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0450.jp2"}, "447": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 419\\nfeeling of pity vanishes. Tlie cows are mucli smaller\\nand of a gentler appearance, as becomes their sex.\\nWhile in this camp we forbore to attack them, leav-\\ning to Henry Chatillon, who could better judge their\\nquality, the task of killing such as we wanted for\\nuse but against the bulls we waged an unrelenting\\nwar. Thousands of them might be slaughtered Avith-\\nout causing any detriment to the species, for their\\nnumbers greatly exceed those of the cows it is the\\nhides of the latter alone which are used for the pur-\\nposes of commerce and for making the lodges of the\\nIndians and the destruction among them is therefore\\ngreatl}^ disproportionate.\\nOur horses were tired, and we now usually hunted\\non foot. While we were lying on the grass after\\ndinner, smoking, talking, or laughing at Tete Rouge,\\none of us would look up and observe, far out on the\\nplains beyond the river, certain black objects slowly\\napproaching. He would inhale a parting whiff from\\nthe pipe, then rising lazily, take his rifle, which\\nleaned against the cart, throw over his shoulder the\\nstrap of his pouch and powder-horn, and with his\\nmoccasons in his hand, walk across the sand towards\\nthe opposite side of the river. This was very easy\\nfor though the sands were about a quarter of a mile\\nwide, the water was nowhere more than two feet\\ndeep. The farther bank was about four or five feet\\nhigh, and quite perpendicular, being cut away by the\\nwater in spring. Tall grass grew along its edge.\\nPutting it aside with his hand, and cautiously look-", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0451.jp2"}, "448": {"fulltext": "420 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ning through it, the hunter can discern the huge\\nshaggy back of the bull slowly swaying to and fro,\\nas, with his clumsy, swinging gait, he advances\\ntowards the water. The buffalo have regular paths\\nby which they come down to drink. Seeing at a\\noflance alongf which of these his intended victim is\\nmoving, the hunter crouches under the bank within\\nfifteen or twenty yards, it may be, of the point where\\nthe path enters the river. Here he sits down quietly\\non the sand. Listening intently, he hears the heav}\\nmonotonous tread of the approaching bull. The\\nmoment after, he sees a motion among the long weeds\\nand grass just at the spot where the path is channelled\\nthrough the bank. An enormous black head is\\nthrust out, the horns just visible amid the mass of\\ntangled mane. Half sliding, half plunging, down\\ncomes the buffalo upon the river-bed below. He\\nsteps out in full sight upon the sands. Just before\\nhim a runnel of water is gliding, and he bends his\\nhead to drink. You may hear the water as it gurgles\\ndown his capacious throat. He raises his head, and\\nthe drops trickle from his wet beard. He stands\\nwith an air of stupid abstraction, unconscious of the\\nlurking danger. Noiselessly the hunter cocks his\\nrifle. As he sits upon the sand, his knee is raised,\\nand his elbow rests upon it, that he may level his\\nheavy weapon with a steadier aim. The stock is at\\nhis shoulder; his eye ranges along the barrel. Still\\nhe is in no haste to fire. The bull, with slow deliber-\\nation, begins his march over the sands to the other", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0452.jp2"}, "449": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 421\\nside. He advances his foreleg, and exposes to view\\na small spot, denuded of hair, just behind the point\\nof his shoulder upon this the hunter brings the sight\\nof his rifle to bear; lightly and delicately his finger\\npresses the hair-trigger. The spiteful crack of the\\nrifle responds to his touch, and instantly in the middle\\nof the bare spot appears a small red dot. The buffalo\\nshivers; death has overtaken him, he cannot tell\\nfrom whence still he does not fall, but walks heavily\\nforward, as if nothing had happened. Yet before he\\nhas gone far out upon the sand, you see him stop he\\ntotters his knees bend under him, and his head sinks\\nforward to the ground. Then his whole vast bulk\\nsways to one side; he rolls over on the sand, and\\ndies with a scarcely perceptible struggle.\\nWaylaying the buffalo in this manner, aiid shoot-\\ning them as they come to water, is the easiest method\\nof hunting them. They may also be approached by\\ncrawling up ravines or behind hills, or even over the\\nopen prairie. This is often surprisingly easy; but at\\nother times it requires the utmost skill of the most\\nexperienced hunter. Henry Chatillon was a man of\\nextraordinary strength and hardihood; but I have\\nseen him return to camp quite exhausted with his\\nefforts, his limbs scratched and wounded, and his\\nbuckskin dress stuck full of the thorns of the prickly-\\npear, among which he had been crawling. Some-\\ntimes he would lie flat upon his face, and drag himself\\nalong in this position for many rods together.\\nOn the second day of our stay at this place, Henry", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0453.jp2"}, "450": {"fulltext": "422 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwent out for an afternoon hunt. Shaw and I re-\\nmained in camp, until, olDserving some bulls approach-\\ning the water upon the other side of the river, we\\ncrossed over to attack them. They were so near, how-\\never, that before we could get under cover of the bank\\nour appearance as we walked over the sands alarmed\\nthem. Turning round before coming within gun-shot,\\nthey began to move off to the right in a direction par-\\nallel to the river. I climbed up the bank and ran\\nafter them. They were walking swiftly, and before\\nI could come within gun-shot distance the} slowly\\nwheeled about and faced me. Before they had turned\\nfar enough to see ine I had fallen flat on my face.\\nFor a moment they stood and stared at the strange\\nobject upon the grass then turning away, again they\\nwalked on as before and I, rising immediately, ran\\nonce more in pursuit. Again they wheeled about,\\nand again I fell prostrate. Repeating this three or\\nfour times, I came at length within a hundred yards\\nof the fugitives, and as I saw them turning again, I\\nsat down and levelled my rifle. The one in the centre\\nwas the largest I had ever seen. I shot him behind\\nthe shoulder. His two companions ran off. He\\nattempted to follow, but soon came to a stand, and at\\nlength lay down as quietly as an ox chewing the cud.\\nCautiously approaching him, I saw b}^ his dull and\\njelly-like eye that he was dead.\\nWhen I began the chase, the prairie was almost\\ntenantless but a great multitude of buffalo had sud-\\ndenly thronged upon it, and looking up I saw within", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0454.jp2"}, "451": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 423\\nfifty rods a heavy, dark column stretching to the\\nright and left as far as I could see. I walked towards\\nthem. My approach did not alarm them in the least.\\nThe column itself consisted almost entirely of cows\\nand calves, but a great many old bulls were ranging\\nabout the prairie on its flank, and as I drew near they\\nfaced towards me with such a grim and ferocious\\nlook that I thought it best to proceed no farther.\\nIndeed, I was already within close rifle-shot of the\\ncolumn, and I sat down on the ground to watch their\\nmovements. Sometimes the whole would stand still,\\ntheir heads all one way; then they would trot for-\\nward, as if by a common impulse, their hoofs and\\nhorns clattering together as they moved. I soon\\nbegan to hear at a distance on the left the sharp\\nreports of a rifle, again and again repeated and not\\nlong after, dull and heavy sounds succeeded, which I\\nrecognized as the familiar voice of Shaw s double-\\nbarrelled gun. When Henry s rifle was at work\\nthere was always meat to be brought in. I went\\nback across the river for a horse, and, returning,\\nreached the spot where the hunters were standing.\\nThe buffalo were visible on the distant prairie. The\\nliving had retreated from the ground, but ten or\\ntwelve carcasses were scattered in various directions.\\nHenry, knife in hand, was stooping over a dead\\ncow, cutting away the best and fattest of the meat.\\nWhen Shaw left me he had walked down for some\\ndistance under the river-bank to find another bull.\\nAt length he saw the plains covered with the host of", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0455.jp2"}, "452": {"fulltext": "424 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nbuffalo, and soon after lieard the crack of Henry s\\nrifle. Ascending the bank, he crawled through the\\ngrass, which for a rod or two from the river was very\\nhigh and rank. He had not crawled far before to\\nhis astonishment he saw Henry standing erect upon\\nthe prairie, almost surrounded by the buft alo. Henry\\nwas in his element. Quite unconscious that any one\\nwas looking at him, he stood at the full height of his\\ntall figure, one hand resting upon his side, and the\\nother arm leaning carelessly on the muzzle of his\\nrifle. His eye was ranging over the singular assem-\\nblage around him. Now and then he would select\\nsuch a cow as suited him, level his rifle, and shoot\\nher dead; then quietly reloading, he would resume\\nhis former position. The buffalo seemed no more to\\nregard his presence than if he were one of them-\\nselves the bulls were bellowing and butting at each\\nother, or rolling about in the dust. A group of\\nbuffalo would gather about the carcass of a dead\\ncow, snuffing at her wounds; and sometimes they\\nwould come behind those that had not yet fallen, and\\nendeavor to push them from the spot. Now and\\nthen some old bull would face towards Henry with\\nan air of stupid amazement, but none seemed inclined\\nto attack or fly from him. For some time Shaw lay\\namong the grass, lookiEg in surprise at this extraor-\\ndinary sight; at length he crawled cautiously for-\\nward, and spoke in a low voice to Henry, who told\\nhim to rise and come on. Still the buffalo showed\\nno sign of fear; they remained gathered about their", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0456.jp2"}, "453": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 425\\ndead companions. Heniy had already killed as many\\ncows as we wanted for use, and Shaw, kneeling\\nbehind one of the carcasses, shot five bulls before the\\nrest thought it necessary to disperse.\\nThe frequent stupidity and infatuation of the\\nbuffalo seems the more remarkable from the contrast\\nit offers to their wildness and wariness at other times.\\nHenry knew all their peculiarities; he had studied\\nthem as a scholar studies his books, and derived\\nquite as much pleasure from the occupation. The\\nbuffalo were a kind of companions to him, and, as\\nhe said, he never felt alone when they were about\\nhim. He took great pride in his skill in hunting.\\nHe was one of the most modest of men yet in the\\nsimplicity and frankness of his character, it was clear\\nthat he looked upon his pre-eminence in this respect\\nas a thing too palpable and well established to be\\ndisputed. But whatever may have been his estimate\\nof his own skill, it was rather below than above that\\nwhich others placed upon it. The only time that I\\never saw a shade of scorn darken his face was when\\ntwo volunteer soldiers, who had just killed a buffalo\\nfor the fu st time, undertook to instruct him as to the\\nbest method of approaching. Henry always seemed\\nto think that he had a sort of prescriptive right to\\nthe buffalo, and to look upon them as something\\nbelonging to himself. Nothing excited his indigna-\\ntion so much as any wanton destruction committed\\namong the cows, and in his view shooting a calf was\\na cardinal sin.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0457.jp2"}, "454": {"fulltext": "426 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nHeniy Chatillon and Tete Rouge were of the same\\nage; that is, about thirty. Henry was twice as\\nlarge, and about six times as strong as T6te Rouge.\\nHenry s face was roughened by winds and storms;\\nTete Rouge s was bloated by sherry-cobblers and\\nbrandy-toddy. Henry talked of Indians and buffalo\\nTete Rouge of theatres and oyster-cellars. Henry\\nhad led a life of hardship and privation Tgte Rouge\\nnever had a whim which he would not gratify at the\\nfirst moment he was able. Henry moreover was the\\nmost disinterested man I ever saw; while Tete\\nRouge, though equally good-natured in his way,\\ncared for nobody but himself. Yet we would not\\nhave lost him on any account; he served the purpose\\nof a jester in a feudal castle our camp would have\\nbeen lifeless without him. For the past week he had\\nfattened in a most amazing manner; and, indeed,\\nthis was not at all surprising, since his appetite was\\ninordinate. He was eating from morning till night;\\nhalf the time he would be at work cooking some\\nprivate repast for himself, and he paid a visit to the\\ncoffee-pot eight or ten times a day. His rueful and\\ndisconsolate face became jovial and rubicund, his eyes\\nstood out like a lobster s, and his spirits, which\\nbefore were sunk to the depths of despondenc} were\\nnow elated in proportion; all day he was singing,\\nwhistling, laughing, and telling stories. Being mor-\\ntally afraid of Jim Gurney, he kept close in the\\nneighborhood of our tent. As he had seen an abun-\\ndance of low fast life, and had a considerable fund of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0458.jp2"}, "455": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 427\\nhumor, his anecdotes were extremely amusing, espe-\\ncially since he never hesitated to place himself in a\\nludicrous point of view, provided he could raise a\\nlaugh by doing so. Tete Rouge, however, was some-\\ntimes rather troublesome he had an inveterate habit\\nof pilfering provisions at all times of the day. He\\nset ridicule at defiance, and would never have given\\nover his tricks, even if they had drawn upon him the\\nscorn of the whole j)arty. Now and then, indeed,\\nsomething worse than laughter fell to his share on\\nthese occasions he would exhibit much contrition,\\nbut half an hour after we would generally observe\\nhim stealing round to the box at the back of the cart,\\nand slyly making off with the provisions which\\nDeslauriers had laid by for supper. He was fond of\\nsmoking but having no tobacco of his own, we used\\nto provide him with as much as he wanted, a small\\npiece at a time. At first we gave him half a pound\\ntogether but this experiment proved an entire failure,\\nfor he invariably lost not only the tobacco, but the\\nknife intrusted to him for cutting it, and a few\\nminutes after he would come to us with many apolo-\\ngies and beg for more.\\nWe had been two days at this camp, and some of\\nthe meat was nearly fit for transportation, when a\\nstorm came suddenly upon us. About sunset the\\nwhole sky grew as black as ink, and the long grass\\nat the edge of the river bent and rose mournfully\\nwith the first gusts of the approaching hurricane.\\nMunroe and his two companions brought their guns", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0459.jp2"}, "456": {"fulltext": "428 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nand placed them under cover of our tent. Having\\nno shelter for themselves, they built a fire of drift-\\nwood that might have defied a cataract, and, wrapped\\nin their buffalo-robes, sat on the ground around it to\\nbide the fury of the storm. Deslauriers ensconced\\nhimself under the cover of the cart. Shaw and I,\\ntogether with Henry and Tete Rouge, crowded into\\nthe little tent; but first of all the dried meat was\\npiled together, and well protected by buffalo-robes\\npinned firmly to the ground. About nine o clock\\nthe storm broke amid absolute darkness; it blew a\\ngale, and torrents of rain roared over the boundless\\nexpanse of open prairie. Our tent was filled with\\nmist and spray beating through the canvas, and\\nsaturating everything within. We could only dis-\\ntinguish each other at short intervals by the dazzling\\nflashes of lightning, which displayed the whole waste\\naround us with its momentary glare. We had our\\nfears for the tent but for an hour or two it stood\\nfast, until at length the cap gave way before a furious\\nblast the pole tore through the top, and in an in-\\nstant we were half suffocated by the cold and drip-\\nping folds of the canvas, which fell down upon us.\\nSeizing upon our guns, we placed them erect, in\\norder to lift the saturated cloth above our heads. In\\nthis agreeable situation, involved among wet blankets\\nand buffalo-robes, we spent several hours of the\\nnight, during which the storm would not abate for\\na moment, but pelted down with merciless fury.\\nBefore long the water gathered beneath us in a pool", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0460.jp2"}, "457": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 429\\ntwo or three inches deep so that for a considerable\\npart of the night we were partially immersed in a\\ncold bath. In spite of all this, Tete Rouge s flow\\nof spirits did not fail him he laughed, whistled, and\\nsang in defiance of the storm, and that night paid\\noff the long arrears of ridicule which he owed us.\\nWhile we lay in silence, enduring the infliction with\\nwhat philosophy we could muster, Tete Rouge, who\\nwas intoxicated with animal spirits, cracked jokes at\\nour expense by the hour together. At about three\\no clock in the morning, preferring the tyranny of\\nthe open night to such a wretched shelter, we\\ncrawled out from beneath the fallen canvas. The\\nwind had abated, but the rain fell steadily. The fire\\nof the California men still blazed amid the darkness,\\nand we joined them as they sat around it. We made\\nready some hot coffee by way of refreshment; but\\nwhen some of the party sought to replenish their\\ncups, it was found that Tete Rouge, having disposed\\nof his own share, had privately abstracted the coffee-\\npot and drunk the rest of the contents out of the\\nspout.\\nIn the morning, to our great joy, an unclouded\\nsun rose upon the prairie. M^e presented a rather\\nlaughable appearance, for the cold and clammy buck-\\nskin, saturated with water, clung fast to our limbs.\\nThe light wind and warm sunshine soon dried it\\nagain, and then we were all encased in armor of\\nintolerable stiffness. Roaming all day over the\\nprairie and shooting two or three bulls, were scarcely", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0461.jp2"}, "458": {"fulltext": "430 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nenough to restore the stiffened leather to its usual\\npliancy.\\nBesides Henr}^ Chatillon, Shaw and I were the\\nonly hunters in the party. Munroe this morning\\nmade an attempt to run a buffalo, but his horse could\\nnot come uj) to the game. Shaw went out with him,\\nand being better mounted, soon found himself in the\\nmidst of the herd. Seeing nothing but cows and\\ncalves around him, he checked his horse. An old\\nbull came galloping on the open prairie at some dis-\\ntance behind, and turning, Shaw rode across his\\npath, levelling his gun as he passed, and shooting\\nhim through the shoulder into the heart.\\nA great flock of buzzards was usually soaring about\\na few trees that stood on the island just below our\\ncamp. Throughout the whole of yesterday we had\\nnoticed an eagle among them; to-day he was still\\nthere and Tete Rouge, declaring that he would kill\\nthe bird of America, borrowed Deslauriers s gun and\\nset out on his unpatriotic mission. As might have\\nbeen expected, the eagle suffered no harm at his\\nhands. He soon returned, saying that he could not\\nfind him, but had shot a buzzard instead. Being\\nrequired to produce the bird in proof of his assertion,\\nhe said he believed that he was not quite dead, but\\nhe must be hurt, from the swiftness with which he\\nflew off.\\nIf you want, said Tete Rouge, I ll go and\\nget one of his feathers I knocked off plenty of them\\nwhen I shot him.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0462.jp2"}, "459": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP. 431\\nJust opposite our canii), was another island covered\\nwith bushes, and behind it was a deep pool of water,\\nwhile two or three considerable streams coursed over\\nthe sand not far off. I was bathing at this place in\\nthe afternoon when a white wolf, larger than the larg-\\nest Newfoundland dog, ran out from behind the point\\nof the island, and galloped leisurely over the sand\\nnot half a stone s-throw distant. I could plainly\\nsee his red eyes and the bristles about his snout he\\nwas an ugly scoundrel, with a bushy tail, a large\\nhead, and a most repulsive countenance. Having\\nneither rifle to shoot nor stone to pelt him with, I\\nwas looking after some missile for his benefit, when\\nthe report of a gun came from the camp, and the ball\\nthrew up the sand just beyond him; at this he gave\\na slight jump, and stretched away so swiftly that he\\nsoon dwindled into a mere speck on the distant sand-\\nbeds. The number of carcasses that by this time\\nwere lying about the neighboring prairie summoned\\nthe wolves from every quarter the spot where Shaw\\nand Henry had hunted together soon became their\\nfavorite resort, for here about a dozen dead buffalo\\nwere fermenting under the hot sun. I used often\\nto go over the river and watch them at their meal.\\nBy lying under the bank it was easy to get a full\\nview of them. There were three different kinds:\\nthe white wolves and the gray wolves, both very-\\nlarge, and besides these the sm.all prairie wolves, not\\nmuch bigger than spaniels. Thej^- would howl and\\nfight in a crowd around a single carcass, yet they", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0463.jp2"}, "460": {"fulltext": "432 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nwere so watchful, and their senses so acute, that I\\nnever was able to crawl within a fair shooting dis-\\ntance; whenever I attempted it, they would all\\nscatter at once and glide silently away through the\\ntall grass. The air above this spot was always full\\nof turkey-buzzards or black vultures; whenever the\\nwolves left a carcass they would descend upon it,\\nand cover it so densely that a rifle bullet shot at\\nrandom among the gormandizing crowd would gen-\\nerally strike down two or three of them. These birds\\nwould often sail by scores just above our camp, their\\nbroad black wings seeming half transparent as they\\nexpanded them against the bright sky. The wolves\\nand the buzzards thickened about us every hour, and\\ntwo or three eagles also came to the feast. I killed\\na bull within rifle-shot of the camp that night the\\nwolves made a fearful howling close at hand, and in\\nthe morning the carcass was completely hollowed out\\nby these voracious feeders.\\nAfter remaining four days at this camp we pre-\\npared to leave it. We had for our own part about\\nfive hundred pounds of dried meat, and the California\\nmen had prepared some three hundred more; this\\nconsisted of the fattest and choicest parts of eight or\\nnine cows, a small quantity only being taken from\\neach, and the rest abandoned to the wolves. The\\npack animals were laden, the horses saddled, and\\nthe mules harnessed to the cart. Even Tete Rouge\\nwas ready at last, and slowly moving from the\\nground, we resumed our journey eastward. When", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0464.jp2"}, "461": {"fulltext": "THE BUFFALO CAMP, 433\\nwe had advanced about a mile, Shaw missed a valu-\\nable hunting-knife, and turned back in search of it,\\nthinking that he had left it at the camp. The day\\nwas dark and gloomy. The ashes of the fires were\\nstill smoking by the river-side; the grass around\\nthem was trampled down by men and horses, and\\nstrewn with all the litter of a camp. Our departure\\nhad been a gathering signal to the birds and beasts\\nof prey. Scores of wolves were prowling about the\\nsmouldering fires, while multitudes were roaming\\nover the neighboring prairie; they all fled as Shaw\\napproached, some running over the sand-beds and\\nsome over the grassy plains. Tlie vultures in great\\nclouds were soaring overhead, and the dead bull near\\nthe camp was completely blackened by the flock that\\nhad alighted upon it they flapped their broad wings,\\nand stretched upwards their crested heads and long\\nskinny necks, fearing to remain, yet reluctant to\\nleave their disgusting feast. As he searched about\\nthe fires he saw the wolves seated on the hills wait-\\ning for his departure. Having looked in vain for his\\nknife, he mounted again, and left the wolves and the\\nvultures to banquet undisturbed.\\n28", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0465.jp2"}, "462": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXVI.\\nDOWN THE ARKANSAS.\\nIn the summer of 1846, the wild and lonely banks\\nof the Upper Arkansas beheld for the first time the\\npassage of an army. General Kearney, on his march\\nto Santa F^, adopted this route in preference to the\\nold trail of the Cimarron. When we were on the\\nArkansas, the main body of the troops had already\\npassed on; Price s Missouri regiment, however, was\\nstill on its way, having left the frontier much later\\nthan the rest; and about this time we began to meet\\none or two companies at a time moving along the\\ntrail. No men ever embarked upon a military expe-\\ndition with a greater love for the work before them\\nthan the Missourians but if discipline and subordi-\\nnation are the criterion of merit, they were worthless\\nsoldiers indeed. Yet when their exploits have rung\\nthrough all America, it would be absurd to deny that\\nthey were excellent irregular troops. Their victories\\nwere gained in the teeth of every established prece-\\ndent of warfare and were owing to a combination of\\nmilitary qualities in the men themselves. Doniphan s\\nregiment marched through New Mexico more like a\\nband of free companions than like the paid soldiers of", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0466.jp2"}, "463": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKAXSAS. 435\\na modern government. When General Ta3 lor com-\\nplimented him on his success at Sacramento and else-\\nwhere, the colonel s reply very well illustrates the\\nrelations which subsisted between the officers and\\nmen of his command.\\nI don t know anything of the manoeuvres. The\\nboys kept coming to me, to let them charge; and\\nwhen I saw a good opportunity, I told them they\\nmight go. They were off like a shot, and that s\\nall I know about it.\\nThe backwoods lawyer was better fitted to con-\\nciliate the good-will than to command the obedience\\nof his men. There were many serving under him\\nwho both from character and education could better\\nhave held command than he.\\nAt the battle of Sacramento his frontiersmen fought\\nunder every disadvantage. The Mexicans had chosen\\ntheir position they were drawn up across the valley\\nthat led to their native city of Chihuahua; their\\nwhole front was covered by intrenchments and de-\\nfended by batteries, and they outnumbered the in-\\nvaders five to one. An eagle flew over the Americans,\\nand a deep murmur rose along their lines. The\\nenemy s batteries opened long they remained under\\nfire, but when at length the word was given, they\\nshouted and ran forward. In one of the divisions,\\nwhen midway to the enemy a drunken officer ordered\\na halt the exasperated men hesitated to obey.\\nForward, boys! cried a private from the ranks;\\nand the Americans rushed like tigers upon the", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0467.jp2"}, "464": {"fulltext": "436 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nenemy. Four hundred jMexicans were slain upon t}i6\\nspot, and the rest fled, scattering over the plain like\\nsheep. The standards, cannon, and baggage were\\ntaken, and among the rest a wagon laden with cords,\\nwhich the Mexicans, in the fulness of their confi-\\ndence, had made ready for tying the American\\nprisoners.\\nDoniphan s volunteers, who gained this victory,\\npassed up with the main arm} hut Price s soldiers,\\nwhom we now met, Avere men from the same neigh-\\nborhood, precisely similar in character, manners, and\\nappearance. One morning, as we were descending\\nupon a wide meadow, where we meant to rest for an\\nhour or two, we saw a body of horsemen approaching\\nat a distance. In order to find water, we were obliged\\nto turn aside to the river-bank, a full half-mile from\\nthe trail. Here we put up a kind of awning, and\\nspreading buffalo-robes on the ground, Shaw and I\\nsat down to smoke.\\nWe are going to catch it now, said Shaw; look\\nat those fellows; there 11 be no peace for us here.\\nAnd in truth about half the volunteers had strag-\\ngled away from the line of march, and were riding\\nover the meadow towards us.\\nHow are you? said the first who came up,\\nalighting from his horse and throwing himself upon\\nthe ground. The rest followed close, and a score of\\nthem soon gathered about us, some lying at full\\nlength and some sitting on horseback. They all\\nbelonged to a company raised in St. Louis. There", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0468.jp2"}, "465": {"fulltext": "DOW N THE ARKANSAS. 437\\nwere some ruffian faces among them, and some\\nhaggard with debauchery; but on the whole they\\nwere extremely good-looking men, superior beyond\\nmeasure to the ordinary rank and file of an army.\\nExcept that they were booted to the knees, they wore\\ntheir belts and military trappings over the ordinary\\ndi-ess of citizens. Besides their swords and holster\\npistols, they carried slung from their saddles the\\nexcellent Springfield carbines, loaded at the breech.\\nThey inquired the character of our party, and were\\nanxious to know the prospect of killing bufCalo, and\\nthe chance that their horses v/ould stand the journey\\nto Santa Fe. All this was well enough, but a moment\\nafter a worse visitation came upon us.\\nHow are you, strangers whar are you going and\\nwhar are you from? said a fellow, who came trot-\\nting up with an old straw hat on his head. He was\\ndressed in the coarsest brown homespun cloth. His\\nface was rather sallow from fever-and-ague, and his\\ntall figure, though strong and sinewy, had a lean,\\nangular look, which, together with his boorish seat\\non horseback, gave him an appearance anything but\\ngraceful. More of the same stamp were close behind\\nhim. Their company was raised in one of the fron-\\ntier counties, and we soon had abundant evidence of\\ntheir rustic breeding they came crowding round by\\nscores, pushing between our first visitors, and staring\\nat us with unabashed faces.\\nAre you the captain asked one fellow.\\nWhat s your business out here? asked another.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0469.jp2"}, "466": {"fulltext": "488 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nWhar do you live when you re to home? said\\na third.\\nI reckon you re traders, surmised a fourth; and\\nto crown the whole, one of them came confidentially\\nto my side and inquired in a low voice, What s\\nyour partner s name?\\nAs each new-comer repeated the same questions,\\nthe nuisance became intolerable. Our military visi-\\ntors were soon disgusted at the concise nature of our\\nreplies, and we could overhear them muttering\\ncurses. While we sat smoking, not in the best imagi-\\nnable humor, Tete Rouge s tongue was not idle.\\nHe never forgot his military character, and during\\nthe whole interview he was incessantly busy among\\nhis fellow-soldiers. At length we placed him on the\\nground before us, and told him that he might play\\nthe part of spokesman. Tete Rouge was delighted,\\nand we soon had the satisfaction of seeing him gabble\\nat such a rate that the torrent of questions was in a\\ngreat measure diverted from us. A little while\\nafter, a cannon with four horses came lumbering up\\nbehind the crowd and the driver, who was perched\\non one of the animals, stretching his neck so as to\\nlook over the rest of the men, called out,\\nWhar are you from, and what s your business\\nThe captain of one of the companies was among\\nour visitors, drawn l)y the same curiosity that had\\nattracted his men. Unless their faces belied them,\\nnot a few in the crowd might with great advantage\\nhave changed ])laces with their commander.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0470.jp2"}, "467": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 439\\nWell, men, said he, lazily, rising from the\\nground where he had been lounging, it s getting\\nlate; I reckon we d better be moving.\\nI shan t start yet, anyhow, said one fellow, who\\nwas lying half asleep with his head resting on his\\narm.\\nDon t be in a hurry, captain, added the lieutenant.\\nWell, have it your own way we 11 wait a while\\nlonger, replied the obsequious commander.\\nAt length, however, our visitors went straggling\\naway as they had come, and we, to our great relief,\\nwere left alone again.\\nNo one was more relieved than Deslauriers by the\\ndeparture of the volunteers for dinner was getting\\ncolder every moment. He spread a well-whitened\\nbuffalo-hide upon the grass, placed in the middle the\\njuicy hump of a fat cow, ranged around it the tin\\nplates and cups, and then announced that all was\\nready. Tete Rouge, with his usual alacrity on such\\noccasions, was the first to take his seat. In his\\nformer capacity of steamboat clerk, he had learned\\nto prefix the honorary Mister to everybody s name,\\nwhether of high or low degree so Jim Gurney was\\nMr. Gurney, Henry was Mr. Henry, and even Des-\\nlauriers, for the first time in his life, heard himself\\naddressed as Mr. Deslauriers. This did not prevent\\nhis conceiving a violent enmity against Tete Rouge,\\nwho, in his futile though praiseworthy attempts to\\nmake himself useful, used always to intermeddle with\\ncooking the dinners. Deslauriers s disposition knew", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0471.jp2"}, "468": {"fulltext": "440 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nno medium between smiles and sunshine and a down-\\nright tornado of wrath; he said nothing to Tete\\nRouge, but his wrongs rankled in his breast. Tete\\nRouge had taken his place at dinner; it was his\\nhappiest moment; he sat enveloped in the old buffalo-\\ncoat, sleeves turned up in preparation for the work,\\nand his short legs crossed on the grass before him\\nhe had a cup of coffee by liis side and his knife ready\\nin his hand, and while he looked upon the fat hump-\\nribs, his eyes dilated with anticipation. Deslauriers\\nsat opposite to him, and the rest of us by this time\\nhad taken our seats.\\nHow is this, Deslauriers? You haven t given\\nus bread enough.\\nAt this Deslauriers s placid face flew into a par-\\noxysm of contortions. He grinned with wrath, chat-\\ntered, gesticulated, and hurled forth a volley of\\nincoherent words in broken English at the astonished\\nTete Rouge. It was just possible to make out that\\nhe was accusing him of having stolen and eaten four\\nlarge cakes v/hich had been laid by for dinner. Tete\\nRouge, confounded at this sudden attack, stared at\\nhis assailant for a moment in dumb amazement, with\\nmouth and eyes wide open. At last he found speech,\\nand protested that the accusation vras false; and that\\nhe could not conceive how he had offended INIr.\\nDeslauriers, or provoked him to use such ungentle-\\nmanly expressions. The tempest of words raged\\nwith such fury that nothing else could be heard.\\nBut Tete Rouge, from his greater command of Eng-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0472.jp2"}, "469": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 441\\nlish, had a manifest advantage over Deslauriers, who,\\nafter sputtering and grimacing for a while, found his\\nwords quite inadequate to the expression of his\\nwrath. He jumped up and vanished, jerking out\\nbetween liis teeth one furious sacre enfant de garce\\na Canadian title of honor, made doubly emphatic by\\nbeing usually applied together with a cut of the whip\\nto refractory mules and horses.\\nThe next morning we saw an old buffalo bull escort-\\ning his cow with two small calves over the prairie.\\nClose behind came four or five large white wolves,\\nsneaking stealthily through the long meadow-grass,\\nand watching for the moment when one of the children\\nshould chance to lag behind his parents. The old\\nbull kept well on his guard, and faced about now and\\nthen to keep the prowling ruffians at a distance.\\nAs Ave approached our iiooning-place, we saw five\\nor six buffalo standing at the summit of a tall bluff.\\nTrotting forward to the spot where we meant to stop,\\nI flung off my saddle and turned my horse loose.\\nBy making a circuit under cover of some rising\\nground, I reached the foot of the bluff unnoticed,\\nand climbed up its steep side. Lying under the brow\\nof the declivity, I prepared to fire at the buffalo, who\\nstood on the flat surface above, not five yards distant.\\nThe gleaming rifle-barrel levelled over the edge\\ncaught their notice, and they turned and ran. Close\\nas they were, it was impossible to kill them when in\\nthat position, and stepping upon the summit, I pur-\\nsued them over the high arid table-land. It was", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0473.jp2"}, "470": {"fulltext": "442 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nextremely rugged and broken a great sandy ravine\\nwas channelled through it, with smaller ravines enter-\\ning on each side, like tributary streams. The buffalo\\nscattered, and I soon lost sight of most of them as\\nthey scuttled away through the sandy chasms a bull\\nand a cow alone kept in view. For a while they ran\\nalong the edge of the great ravine, appearing and\\ndisappearing as they dived into some chasm and again\\nemerged from it. At last they stretched out upon\\nthe broad prairie, a plain nearly flat and almost\\ndevoid of verdure, for every short grass-blade was\\ndried and shrivelled by the glaring sun. Now and\\nthen the old bull would face towards me whenever\\nhe did so I fell to the ground and lay motionless. In\\nthis manner I chased them for about two miles, until\\nat length I heard in front a deep, hoarse bellowing.\\nA moment after, a band of about a hundred bulls,\\nbefore hidden by a slight swell of the plain, came at\\nonce into view. The fugitives ran towards them.\\nInstead of mingling with the band, as I expected,\\nthey passed directly through, and continued their\\nflight. At this I gave up the chase, crawled to\\nwithin gun-shot of the bulls, and sat down on the\\nground to watch them. My presence did not disturb\\nthem in the least. They were not feeding, for there\\nwas nothing to eat; but they seemed to have chosen\\nthe parched and scorching desert as their play-ground.\\nSome were rolling on the ground amid a cloud of\\ndust; others, with a hoarse rumbling bellow, were\\nbutting their large heads together, while many stood", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0474.jp2"}, "471": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 443\\nmotionless, as if quite inanimate. Except their\\nmonstrous growth of tangled grizzly mane, they had\\nno hair; for their old coat had fallen off in the\\nspring, and their new one had not as yet appeared.\\nSometimes an old bull would step forward, and gaze\\nat me with a grim and stupid countenance then he\\nwould turn and butt his next neighbor; then he\\nwould lie down and roll over in the dust, kicking his\\nhoofs in the air. When satisfied with this amuse-\\nment, he would jerk his head and shoulders upward,\\nand resting on his forelegs, stare at me in this posi-\\ntion, half blinded by his mane, and his face covered\\nwith dirt; then up he would spring upon all fours,\\nshake his dusty sides, turn half round, and stand\\nwith his beard touching the ground, in an attitude of\\nprofound abstraction, as if reflecting on his puerile\\nconduct. You are too ugly to live, thought I;\\nand aiming at the ugliest, I shot three of them in\\nsuccession. The rest were not at all discomposed at\\nthis they kept on bellowing, butting, and rolling on\\nthe ground as before. Henry Chatillon always cau-\\ntioned us to keep perfectly quiet in the presence of a\\nwounded buffalo, for any movement is apt to excite\\nhim to make an attack so I sat still upon the ground,\\nloading and filing with as little motion as possible.\\nWhile I was thus employed, a spectator made his\\nappearance: a little antelope came running up to\\nwithin fifty yards; and there it stood, its slender\\nneck arched, its small horns thrown back, and its\\nlarge dark eyes gazing on me with a look of eager", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0475.jp2"}, "472": {"fulltext": "444 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\ncuriosity. By the side of the shaggy and brutish\\nmonsters before me, it seemed like some lovely young\\ngirl in a den of robbers or a nest of bearded pirates.\\nThe buffalo looked uglier than ever. Here goes\\nfor another of you, thought I, feeling in my pouch\\nfor a percussion-cap. Not a percussion-cap was there.\\nMy good rifle was useless as an old iron bar. One of\\nthe wounded bulls had not yet fallen, and I waited\\nfor some time, hoping every moment that his strength\\nwould fail him. He still stood firm, looking grimly\\nat me, and, disregarding Henry s advice, I rose and\\nwalked away. Many of the bulls turned and looked\\nat me, but the wounded brute made no attack. I\\nsoon came upon a deep ravine which would give me\\nshelter in case of emergency so I turned round and\\nthrew a stone at the bulls. They received it with\\nthe utmost indifference. Feeling myself insulted at\\ntheir refusal to be frightened, I swung my hat,\\nshouted, and made a show of running towards them\\nat this they crowded together and galloped off, leav-\\ning their dead and wounded upon the field. As I\\nmoved towards the camp I saw the last survivor\\ntotter and fall dead. My speed in returiiing was\\nwonderfully quickened by the reflection that the\\nPawnees were abroad, and that I was defenceless in\\ncase of meeting with an enemy. I saw no living-\\nthing, however, except two or three squalid old bulls\\nscrambling among the sand-hills that flanked the great\\nravine. When I reached camp the party were nearly\\njeady for tbe afternoon move.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0476.jp2"}, "473": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 445\\nWe encamped that evening at a short distance from\\nthe river-bank. Al)Out midnight, as we all lay asleep\\non the ground, the man nearest to me, gently reach-\\ning out his hand, touched my shoulder, and cautioned\\nme at the same time not to move. It was bright\\nstarlight. Opening my eyes and slightly turning, I\\nsaw a large white wolf moving stealthily around the\\nembers of our fire, with his nose close to the ground.\\nDisengaging my hand from the blanket, I drew the\\ncover from my rifle, which lay close at my side the\\nmotion alarmed the wolf, and with long leaps he\\nbounded out of the camp. Jumping up, I fired after\\nhim, when he was about thirty yards distant; the\\nmelancholy hum of the bullet sounded far away\\nthrough the night. At the sharp report, so suddenly\\nbreaking upon the stillness, all the men sprang up.\\nYou ve killed him, said one of them.\\nNo, I have n t, said I; there he goes, running\\nalong the river.\\nThen there s two of them. Don t you see that\\none lying out yonder?\\nWe went out to it, and instead of a dead white\\nwolf, found the bleached skull of a buffalo. I had\\nmissed my mark, and, what was worse, had grossly\\nviolated a standing law of the prairie. When in a\\ndangerous part of the country, it is considered highl}^\\nimprudent to fire a gun after encamping, lest the\\nreport should reach the ears of Indians.\\nThe horses were saddled in the morning, and the\\nlast man had lighted his pipe at the dying ashes of", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0477.jp2"}, "474": {"fulltext": "446 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nthe fire. The beaut} of the day enlivened us all.\\nEven Ellis felt its influence, and occasionally made a\\nremark as we rode along, and Jim Gurney told end-\\nless stories of his cruisings in the United States\\nservice. The buffalo were abundant, and at length a\\nlarge band of them went running up the hills on the\\nleft.\\nToo good a chance to lose, said Shaw. We\\nlashed our horses and galloped after them. Shaw\\nkilled one with each barrel of his gun. I separated\\nanother from the herd and shot him. The small\\nbullet of the rifle-pistol strildng too far back did not\\nimmediately take effect, and the bull ran on with\\nunabated speed. Again and again I snapped the\\nremaining pistol at him. I primed it afresh three or\\nfour times, and each time it missed fire, for the touch-\\nhole was clogged up. Returning it to the holster, I\\nbegan to load the empty pistol, still galloping by the\\nside of the bull. By this time he had grown desper-\\nate. The foam flew from his jaws and his tongue\\nlolled out. Before the pistol was loaded he sj)rang\\nupon me, and followed up his attack with a furious\\nrush. The only alternative was to run away or be\\nkilled. I took to flight, and the bull, bristling with\\nfury, pursued me closely. The pistol was soon\\nready, and then looking back I saw his head five or\\nsix yards behind my horse s tail. To fire at it would\\nbe useless, for a bullet flattens against the adamantine\\nskull of a buffalo bull. Inclining my body to the\\nleft, I turned my horse in that direction as sharply as", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0478.jp2"}, "475": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 447\\nhis speed would permit. The bull, rushing blindl}\\non with great force and weight, did not turn so quickly.\\nAs I looked back, his neck and shoulder were exposed\\nto view; and, turning in the saddle, I shot a bullet\\nthrough them obliquely into his vitals. He gave\\nover the chase and soon fell to the ground. An\\nEnglish tourist represents a situation like this as one\\nof imminent danger this is a mistake the bull never\\npursues long, and the horse must be wretched indeed\\nthat cannot keep out of his way for two or three\\nminutes.\\nWe were now come to a part of the country where\\nwe were bound in common prudence to use every\\npossible precaution. We mounted guard at night,\\neach man standing in his turn and no one ever slept\\nwithout drawing his rifle close to his side or folding it\\nwith him in his blanket. One morning our vigilance\\nwas stimulated by finding traces of a large Camanche\\nencampment. Fortunately for us, however, it had\\nbeen abandoned nearly a week. On the next evening\\nwe found the ashes of a recent fire, which gave us at\\nthe time some uneasiness. At length we reached the\\nCaches, a place of dangerous repute; and it had a\\nmost dangerous appearance, consisting of sand-hills\\neverywhere broken by ravines and deep chasms.\\nHere we found the grave of Swan, killed at this place,\\nprobably by the Pawnees, two or three weeks before.\\nHis remains, more than once violated by the Indians\\nand the wolves, were suffered at length to remain\\nundisturbed in their wild burial-place.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0479.jp2"}, "476": {"fulltext": "448 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nFor several days we met detaclied companies of\\nPrice s regiment. Horses would often break loose at\\nnight from their camps. One afternoon we picked\\nup three of these stragglers quietly grazing along\\nthe river. After we came to camp that evening, Jim\\nGurney brought news that more of them were in\\nsight. It was nearly dark, and a cold, drizzling rain\\nhad set in but we all turned out, and after an hour s\\nchase nine horses were caught and brought in. One\\nof them was equipped with saddle and bridle pistols\\nwere hanging at the pommel of the saddle, a carbine\\nwas slung at its side, and a blanket rolled up behind\\nit. In the morning, as we resumed our journey, our\\ncavalcade presented a much more imposing appear-\\nance than ever before. We kept on till the after-\\nnoon, when, far behind, three horsemen appeared on\\nthe horizon. Coming on at a hand-gallop, they soon\\novertook us, and claimed all the horses as belonging\\nto themselves and others of their company. They\\nwere of course given up, very much to the mortifica-\\ntion of Ellis and Jim Gurney.\\nOur own horses now showed signs of fatigue, and\\nwe resolved to give them half a day s rest. We\\nstopped at noon at a grassy spot by the river. After\\ndinner Shaw and Henrj went out to hunt; and while\\nthe men lounged about the camp, I lay down to read\\nin the shadow of the cart. Looking up, I saw a bull\\ngrazing alone on the prairie more than a mile distant,\\nand taking my rifle I walked towards him. As I\\ncame near, I crawled upon the ground until I ap-", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0480.jp2"}, "477": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 449\\nproached to within a bundled yards here I sat down\\nupon the grass and waited till he should turn himself\\ninto a proper position to receive his death-wound.\\nHe was a grim old veteran. His loves and his battles\\nwere over for that season, and now, gaunt and war-\\nworn, he had withdrawn from the herd to graze by\\nhimself and recruit his exhausted strength. He was\\nmiserably emaciated his mane was all in tatters his\\nhide was bare and rough as an elephant s, and covered\\nwith dried patches of the mud in which he had been\\nwallowing. He showed all his ribs whenever he\\nmoved. He looked like some grizzly old ruffian\\ngrown gray in blood and violence, and scowling on\\nall the world from his misanthropic seclusion. The\\nold savage looked up when I first approached, and\\ngave me a fierce stare then he fell to grazing again\\nwith an air of contemptuous indifference. The\\nmoment after, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he\\nthrew up his head, faced quickly about, and to my\\namazement came at a rapid trot directly towards me.\\nI was strongly impelled to get up and run, but this\\nwould have been very dangerous. Sitting quite still,\\nI aimed, as he came on, at the thin part of the skull\\nabove the nose, hoping that the shot might have the\\neffect of turning him. After he had passed over\\nabout three-quarters of the distance between us, I\\nwas on the point of firing, when, to my great satis-\\nfaction, he stopped short. I had full opportunity of\\nstudying his countenance his whole front was cov-\\nered with a huge mass of coarse matted hair, which\\n29", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0481.jp2"}, "478": {"fulltext": "450 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nhung so low that nothing but his two forefeet were\\nvisible beneath it his short thick horns were blunted\\nand split to the very roots in his various battles, and\\nacross his nose and forehead were two or three large\\nwhite scars, which gave him a grim, and at the same\\ntime a whimsical, appearance. It seemed to me that\\nhe stood there motionless for a full quarter of an hour\\nstaring at me through the tangled locks of his mane.\\nFor my part, I remained as quiet as he, and looked\\nquite as hard. I felt greatly inclined to come to\\nterms with him. My friend, thought I, if you 11\\nlet me off, I 11 let you off. At length he seemed to\\nhave abandoned any hostile design. Very slowly and\\ndeliberately he began to turn about; little by little\\nhis side came into view, all beplastered with mud.\\nIt was a tempting sight. I forgot my prudent inten-\\ntions, and fired my rifle a pistol would have served\\nat that distance. The old bull spun round like a\\ntop, and galloped away over the prairie. He ran\\nsome distance, and even ascended a considerable hill,\\nbefore he lay down and died. After shooting another\\nbull among the hills, I went back to camp.\\nAt noon, on the fourteenth of September, a very\\nlarge Santa F6 caravan came up. The plain was\\ncovered with the long files of their white-topped\\nwagons, the close black carriages in which the traders\\ntravel and sleep, large droves of mules and horses,\\nand men on horseback and on foot. They all stopped\\non the meadow near us. Our diminutive cart and\\nhandful of men made but an insignificant figure by", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0482.jp2"}, "479": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 451\\nthe side of their wide and bustling camp. Trte\\nRouge went to visit them, and soon came back with\\nhalf a dozen biscuit in one hand, and a bottle of\\nbrandy in the other. I inquired where he got them.\\nOh, said Tete Rouge, I know some of the traders.\\nDr. Dobbs is there, besides. I asked who Dr. Dobbs\\nmight be. One of our St. Louis doctors, replied\\nTete Rouge. For two days past I had been severely\\nattacked by the same disorder which had so greatly\\nreduced my strength when at the mountains at this\\ntime I was suffering not a little from pain and weak-\\nness. Tete Rouge, in answer to my inquiries, declared\\nthat Dr. Dobbs was a physician of the first standing.\\nWithout at all believing him, I resolved to consult\\nthis eminent practitioner. Walking over to the camp,\\nI found him lying sound asleep under one of the\\nwagons. He offered in his own person but indiffer-\\nent evidence of his skill, for it was five months since\\nI had seen so cadaverous a face. His hat had fallen\\noff, and his yellow hair was all in disorder; one of\\nhis arms supplied the place of a pillow; his trousers\\nwere wrinkled halfway up to his knees, and he was\\ncovered with little bits of grass and straw upon which\\nhe had rolled in his uneasy slumber. A Mexican\\nstood near, and I made him a sign to touch the\\ndoctor. Up sprang the learned Dobbs, and sitting\\nupright rubbed his eyes and looked about him in\\nbewilderment. I regretted the necessity of disturb-\\ning him, and said I had come to ask professional\\nadvice.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0483.jp2"}, "480": {"fulltext": "452 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nYour system, sir, is in a disordered state, said\\nhe, solemnly, after a short examination.\\nI inquired what might be the particular species of\\ndisorder.\\nEvidently a morbid action of the liver, replied\\nthe medical man; I will give you a prescription.\\nRepairing to the back of one of the covered wagons,\\nhe scrambled in for a moment I could see nothing\\nof him but his boots. At length he produced a box\\nwhich he had extracted from some dark recess within,\\nand, opening it, presented me with a folded paper.\\nWhat is it said I. Calomel, said the doctor.\\nUnder the circumstances I vv^ould have taken\\nalmost anything. There was not enough to do me\\nmuch harm, and it might possibly do good; so at\\ncamp that night I took the poison instead of supper.\\nThat camp is worthy of notice. The traders warned\\nus not to follow the main trail along the river,\\nunless, as one of them observed, you want to\\nhave your throats cut! The river at this place\\nmakes a bend; and a smaller trail, known as the\\nRidge-path, leads directly across the prairie from\\npoint to point, a distance of sixty or seventy miles.\\nWe followed this trail, and after travelling seven\\nor eight miles, came to a small stream, where we\\nencamped. Our position was not chosen with much\\nforethought or military skill. The water was in a\\ndeep hollow, with steep, high banks; on the grassy\\nbottom of this hollow we picketed our horses, while\\nwe ourselves encamped upon the barren prairie just", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0484.jp2"}, "481": {"fulltext": "DOWN THE ARKANSAS. 453\\nabove. The opportunity was admirable either for\\ndriving off our horses or attacking us. After dark,\\nas Tete Rouge was sitting at supper, we observed\\nhim pointing with a face of speechless horror over\\nthe shoulder of Henry, who was opposite to him.\\nAloof amid the darkness appeared a gigantic black\\napparition, solemnly swaying to and fro as it advanced\\nsteadily upon us. Henry, half vexed and half amused,\\njumped up, spread out his arms, and shouted. The\\ninvader was an old buffalo bull, who, with character-\\nistic stupidity, was walking directly into camp. It\\ncost some shouting and swinging of hats before we\\ncould bring him first to a halt and then to a rapid\\nretreat.\\nThe moon was full and bright; but as the black\\nclouds chased rapidly over it, we were at one moment\\nin light and at the next in darkness. As the evening\\nadvanced, a thunder-storm came up and struck us\\nwith such violence that the tent would have been\\nblown over if we had not interposed the cart to\\nbreak the force of the wind. At length it subsided\\nto a steady rain. I lay awake through nearly the\\nwhole night, listening to its dull patter upon the can-\\nvas above. The moisture, which filled the tent and\\ntrickled from everything in it, did not add to tlie\\ncomfort of the situation. About twelve o clock Shaw\\nwent out to stand guard amid the rain and pitchy\\ndarkness. Munroe was also on the alert. When\\nabout two hours had passed, Shaw came silently in,\\nand, touching Henry, called to him in a low, quick", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0485.jp2"}, "482": {"fulltext": "454 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nvoice to come out. What is it? Tasked. In-\\ndians, I believe, whispered Shaw; but lie still;\\nI ll call you if there s a fight.\\nHe and Henry went out together. I took the\\ncover from my rifle, put a fresh percussion-cap upon\\nit, and then, being in much pain, lay down again.\\nIn about five minutes Shaw returned. All right,\\nhe said, as he lay down to sleep. Henry was now\\nstanding guard in his place. He told me in the\\nmorning the particulars of the alarm. Munroe s\\nwatchful eye had discovered some dark objects down\\nin the hollow, among the horses, like men creeping\\non all-fours. Lying flat on their faces, he and Shaw\\ncrawled to the edge of the bank, and were soon con-\\nvinced that these dark objects were Indians. Shaw\\nsilently withdrew to call Henry, and they all lay\\nwatching in the same position. Henry s eye is one\\nof the best on the prairie. He detected after a while\\nthe true nature of the intruders they were nothing\\nbut wolves creeping among the horses.\\nIt is very singular that, when picketed near a\\ncamp, horses seldom show any fear of such an intru-\\nsion. The wolves appear to have no other object\\nthan that of gnawing the trail-ropes of raw hide by\\nwhich the animals are secured. Several times in the\\ncourse of the journey my horse s trail-rope was bitten\\nin two by these nocturnal visitors.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0486.jp2"}, "483": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXVII.\\nTHE SETTLEMENTS.\\nThe next day was extremely hot, and we rode\\nfrom morning till night without seeing a tree, a bush,\\nor a drop of water. Our horses and mules suffered\\nmuch more than we, but as sunset approached, they\\npricked up their ears and mended their pace. Water\\nwas not far off. When we came to the descent of\\nthe broad shallow valley where it lay, an unlooked-\\nfor sight awaited us. The stream glistened at the\\nbottom, and along its banks were pitched a multitude\\nof tents, while hundreds of cattle were feeding over\\nthe meadows. Bodies of troops, both horse and foot,\\nand long trains of wagons, with men, women, and\\nchildren, were moving over the opposite ridge and\\ndescending the broad declivity before us. These\\nwere the Mormon battalion in thfe service of govern-\\nment, together with a considerable number of Missouri\\nVolunteers. The Mormons were to be paid off in\\nCalifornia, and they were allowed to bring with them\\ntheir families and property. There was something\\nvery striking in the half-military, half-patriarchal\\nappearance of these armed fanatics, thus on their\\nway with their wives and children, to found, it", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0487.jp2"}, "484": {"fulltext": "456 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmight be, a Mormon empire in California. We were\\nmuch more astonished than pleased at the sight\\nbefore us. In order to find an unoccupied camping-\\nground, we were obliged to pass a quarter of a mile\\nup the stream, and here we were soon beset by a\\nswarm of Mormons and Missourians. The United\\nStates officer in command of the whole came also to\\nvisit us, and remained some time at our camp.\\nIn the morning the country was covered mth mist.\\nWe were always early risers, but before vv-e were\\nready, the voices of men driving in the cattle sounded\\nall around us. As Ave passed above their camp, we\\nsaw through the obscurity that the tents were falling,\\nand the ranks rapidly forming; and, mingled with\\nthe cries of women and children, the rolling of the\\nMormon drums and the clear blast of their trumpets\\nsounded through the mist.\\nFrom that time to the journey s end, we met almost\\nevery day long trains of government wagons, laden\\nwith stores for the troops, crawling at a snail s pace\\ntowards Santa F6.\\nTete Rouge had a mortal antipathy to danger, but\\none evening he achieved an adventure more perilous\\nthan had befallen any man in the party. The day\\nafter we left the Ridge-path we encamped close to\\nthe river, and at sunset saw a train of wagons en-\\ncamping on the trail, about three miles off. Though\\nwe saw them distinctly, our little cart, as it after-\\nwards proved, entirely escaped their notice. For\\nsome days Tete Rouge had been longing for a dram", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0488.jp2"}, "485": {"fulltext": "THE SETTLEMENTS. 457\\nof whiskey. So, resolving to improve the present\\nopportunity, he mounted his horse James, which\\nhe had obtained from the volunteers in exchange for\\nhis mule, slung his canteen over his shoulder, and\\nset out in search of his favorite liquor. Some hours\\npassed without his returning. We thought that he\\nwas lost, or perhaps that some stray Indian had\\nsnapped him up. While the rest fell asleep I re-\\nmained on guard. Late at night a tremulous voice\\nsaluted me from the darkness, and Tete Rouge and\\nJames soon became visible, advancing towards the\\ncamp. Tete Rouge was in much agitation and big\\nwith important tidings. Sitting down on the shaft\\nof the cart, he told the following story:\\nWhen he left the camp he had no idea, he said,\\nhow late it was. By the time he approached the\\nwagoners it was perfectly dark and as he saw them\\nall sitting around their fires within the circle of\\nwagons, their guns laid by their sides, he thought\\nhe might as well give warning of his approach, in\\norder to prevent a disagreeable mistake. Raising his\\nvoice to the highest pitch, he screamed out in pro-\\nlonged accents, Camjp ahoy This eccentric salu-\\ntation produced anything but the desired effect.\\nHearing such hideous sounds proceeding from the\\nouter darkness, the wagoners thought that the whole\\nPawnee nation were upon them. Up they sprang,\\nwild with terror. Each man snatched his gun; some\\nstood behind the wagons some threw themselves flat\\non the ground, and in an instant twenty cocked", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0489.jp2"}, "486": {"fulltext": "458 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nmuskets were levelled full at the horrified Tete\\nRouge, who just then began to be visible through\\nthe gloom.\\nThar they come, cried the master wagoner fire,\\nfire, shoot that feller.\\nNo, no! screamed Tete Rouge, in an ecstasy\\nof fright; don t fire, don t; I m a friend, I m an\\nAmerican citizen\\nYou re a friend, be you? cried a gruff voice\\nfrom the wagons; then what are you yellin out\\nthar for like a wild Injun Come along up here if\\nyou re a man.\\nKeep your guns p inted at him, added the\\nmaster wagoner; maybe he s a decoy, like.\\nTete Rouge in utter bewilderment made his ap-\\nproach, with the gaping muzzles of the muskets still\\nbefore his eyes. He succeeded at last in explaining\\nhis true character, and the Missourians admitted him\\ninto camp. He got no whiskey; but as he repre-\\nsented himself as a great invalid, and suffering much\\nfrom coarse fare, they made up a contribution for\\nhim of rice, biscuit, and sugar from their own\\nrations.\\nIn the morning at breakfast, Tete Rouge once more\\nrelated this story. We hardly knew how much of it\\nto believe, though after some cross-questioning we\\nfailed to discover any flaw in the narrative. Pass-\\ning by the wagoners camp, they confirmed Tete\\nRouge s account in every particular.\\nI wouldn t have been in that feller s place, said", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0490.jp2"}, "487": {"fulltext": "THE SETTLEMENTS. 459\\none of them, for the biggest heap of money in\\nMissouri.\\nA day or two after, we had an adventure of\\nanother sort with a party of wagoners. Henry and\\nI rode forward to hunt. After that day there was\\nno probability that we shoukl meet with buffalo, and\\nwe were anxious to kill one, for a supply of fresh\\nmeat. They were so wild that we hunted all the\\nmorning in vain, but at noon as we approached Cow\\nCreek we saw a large band feeding near its margin.\\nCow Creek is densely lined with trees which inter-\\ncept the view beyond, and it runs, as we afterwards\\nfound, at the bottom of a deep trench. We approached\\nby riding along the bottom of a ravine. When we\\nwere near enough, I held the horses while Henry\\ncrept towards the buffalo. I saw him take his seat\\nwithin shooting distance, prepare his rifle, and look\\nabout to select his victim. The death of a fat cow\\nseemed certain, when suddenly a great smoke and a\\nrattling volley of musketry rose from the bed of the\\ncreek. A score of long-legged Missourians leaped\\nout from among the trees and ran after the buffalo,\\nwho one and all took to their heels and vanished.\\nThese fellows had crawled up the bed of the creek to\\nwithin a hundred yards of the game. Never was\\nthere a fairer chance for a shot. They were good\\nmarksmen all cracked away at once, and yet not a\\nbuffalo fell. In fact, the animal is so tenacious of life\\nthat it requires no little knowledge of anatomy to kill\\nit, and it is very seldom that a novice succeeds in his", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0491.jp2"}, "488": {"fulltext": "460 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nfirst attempt at approaching. The balked Missourians\\nwere excessively mortified, especially when Henry\\ntold them that if tliey had kept quiet he would have\\nkilled meat enough in ten minutes to feed their whole\\nparty. Our friends, who were at no great distance,\\nhearing the fusillade, thought that the Indians had\\nfired the volley for our benefit. Shaw came gallop-\\ning on to reconnoitre and learn if we were yet among\\nthe living.\\nAt Cow Creek we found the welcome novelty of\\nripe grapes and plums, which grew there in abun-\\ndance. At the Little Arkansas, not much farther\\non, we saw the last buffalo, a miserable old bull,\\nroaming over the prairie melancholy and alone.\\nFrom this time forward the character of the country\\nwas changing every day. We had left behind us the\\ngreat arid deserts, meagrely covered by the tufted\\nbuffalo-grass, with its pale green hue and its short\\nshrivelled blades. The plains before us were carpeted\\nwith rich herbage sprinkled with flowers. In place\\nof buffalo we found plenty of prairie-hens, and\\nbagged them by dozens without leaving the trail. In\\nthree or four days we saw before us the forests and\\nmeadows of Council Grove. It seemed like a new\\nsensation as we rode beneath the resounding arches\\nof these noble woods, ash, oak, elm, maple, and\\nhickory, festooned with enormous grape-vines, purple\\nwith fruit. The shouts of our scattered party, and\\nnow and then the report of a rifle, rang through the\\nbreathless stillness of the forest. We rode out again", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0492.jp2"}, "489": {"fulltext": "THE SETTLEMENTS. 461\\nwith regret into the broad light of the open prairie.\\nLittle more than a hundred miles now separated us\\nfrom the frontier settlements. The whole interven-\\ning country was a succession of green prairies, rising\\nin broad swells and relieved by trees clustering like\\nan oasis around some spring, or following the course\\nof a stream along some fertile hollow. These are the\\nprairies of the poet and the novelist. We had left\\ndanger behind us. Nothing was to be feared from\\nthe Indians of this region, the Sacs and Foxes, Kanzas\\nand Osages. We had met with rare good fortune.\\nAlthough for five months we had been travelling\\nwith an insufficient force through a country where\\nwe were at any moment liable to depredation, not a\\nsingle animal had been stolen from us, and our only\\nloss had been one old mule bitten to death by a rattle-\\nsnake. Three weeks after we reached the frontier,\\nthe Pawnees and the Camanches began a regular\\nseries of hostilities on the Arkansas trail, killing men\\nand driving off horses. They attacked, without\\nexception, eveiy party, large or small, that passed\\nduring the next six months.\\nDiamond Spring, Rock Creek, Elder Grove, and\\nother camping places besides, were passed in quick\\nsuccession. At Rock Creek we found a train of\\ngovernment provision-wagons under the charge of an\\nemaciated old man in his seventy-first year. Some\\nrestless American devil had driven him into the wil-\\nderness at a time of life when he should have been\\nseated at his fireside with his grandchildren on his", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0493.jp2"}, "490": {"fulltext": "462 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nknees. I am convinced that he never returned; he\\nwas complaming that night of a disease, the wasting\\neffects of which upon a younger and stronger man, I\\nmyself had proved from severe experience. Long\\nbefore this no doubt the wolves have howled their\\nmoonlight carnival over the old man s attenuated\\nremains.\\nNot long after we came to a small trail leading to\\nFort Leavenworth, distant but one day s journey.\\nTete Rouge here took leave of us. He was anxious\\nto go to the fort in order to receive payment for\\nhis valuable military ser-\\\\dces. So he and his horse\\nJames, after an affectionate farewell, set out together,\\nwith what provisions they could conveniently carry,\\nincluding a large quantity of brown sugar. On a\\ncheerless rainy evening we came to our last camping\\nground.\\nIn the morning we mounted once more. In spite\\nof the dreary rain of yesterday, there never was a\\nbrighter autumnal morning than that on which we\\nreturned to the settlements. We were passing tlirough\\nthe country of the half-civilized Shawanoes. It was\\na beautiful alternation of fertile plains and groves\\njust tinged with the hues of autumn, while close\\nbeneath them nestled the log-houses of the Indian\\nfarmers. Every field and meadow bespoke the exu-\\nberant fertility of the soil. The maize stood rustling\\nin the wind, ripe and dry, its shining yellow ears\\nthrust out between the gaping husks. Squashes\\nand huge yellow pumpkins lay basking in the sun in", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0494.jp2"}, "491": {"fulltext": "THE SETTLEMENTS. 463\\nthe midst of tlieir brown and shrivelled leaves.\\nRobins and blackbirds flew about the fences, and\\neverything betokened our near approach to home and\\ncivilization. The forests that border the Missouri\\nsoon rose before us, and we entered the wide tract of\\nbushes which forms their outskirts. We had passed\\nthe same road on our outward journey in the sjiring,\\nbut its aspect was now totally changed. The young\\nwild apple-trees, then flushed with their fragrant\\nblossoms, were hung thickly with ruddy fruit. Tall\\ngrass grew by the roadside in place of tender shoots\\njust peeping from the warm and oozy soil. The\\nvines were laden with purple grapes, and the slender\\ntwigs of the swamp maple, then tasselled with their\\nclusters of small red flowers, now hung out a gorgeous\\ndisplay of leaves stained by the frost with burning\\ncrimson. On every side we saw tokens of maturity\\nand decay where all had before been fresh with\\nopening life. We entered the forest, checkered, as\\nwe passed along, by the bright spots of sunlight that\\nfell between the opening boughs. On either side\\nrich masses of foliage almost excluded the sun,\\nthough here and there its rays could find their way\\ndown, striking through the broad leaves and lighting\\nthem with a pure ti-ansparent green. Squirrels barked\\nat us from the trees coveys of young partridges ran\\nrustling over the fallen leaves, and the golden oriole,\\nthe blue-jay, and the flaming red-bird darted among\\nthe shadowy branches. We hailed these sights and\\nsounds of beauty by no means with unmingled", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0495.jp2"}, "492": {"fulltext": "464 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\npleasure. Many and powerful as were the attrac-\\ntions of the settlements, we looked back regretfully\\nto the wilderness behind us.\\nAt length we saw the roof of a white man s dwell-\\ning between the opening trees. A few moments\\nafter, we were riding over the miserable log-bridge\\nthat led into Westport. Westport had beheld strange\\nscenes, but a rougher-looking troop than ours, with\\nour worn equipments and broken-down horses, was\\nnever seen even there. We passed the well-remem-\\nbered tavern, Boone s grocery, and old Vogel s dram-\\nshop, and encamped on a meadow beyond. Here we\\nwere soon visited by a number of people who came to\\npurchase our horses and equipments. This matter\\ndisposed of, we hired a wagon and drove to Kanzas\\nlanding. Here we were again received under the\\nhospitable roof of our old friend Colonel Chick, and\\nseated under his porch, we looked down once more\\non the eddies of the Missouri.\\nDeslauriers made his appearance in the morning,\\nstrangely transformed by a hat, a coat, and a razor.\\nHis little log-house was among the woods not far off.\\nIt seems he had meditated giving a ball in honor of\\nhis return, and had consulted Henry Chatillon, as to\\nwhether it would do to invite his bourgeois. Henry\\nexpressed his entire conviction that we would not\\ntake it amiss, and the invitation was now proffered\\naccordingly, Deslauriers adding as a special induce-\\nment that Antoine Lajeunesse was to play the fiddle.\\nWe told him we would certainly come, but before", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0496.jp2"}, "493": {"fulltext": "THE SETTLEMENTS. 465\\nevening the arrival of a steamboat from Fort Leaven-\\nworth prevented our being present at the expected\\nfestivities. Deslauriers was on the rock at the land-\\ning-place, waiting to take leave of us.\\nAdieu! mes bourgeois, adieu! adieu! he cried,\\nas the boat put off when you go another time to\\nde Rocky Montagues I will go with you; yes, I\\nwill go!\\nHe accompanied this assurance by jumping about,\\nswinging his hat, and griiming from ear to ear. As\\nthe boat rounded a distant point, the last object that\\nmet our eyes was Deslauriers still lifting his hat and\\nskipping about the rock. We had taken leave of\\nMunroe and Jim Gurney at Westport, and Henry\\nChatillon went down in the boat with us.\\nThe passage to St. Louis occupied eight days,\\nduring about a third of which time we were fast\\naground on sand-bars. We passed the steamer\\nAmelia crowded with a roaring crew of disbanded\\nvolunteers, swearing, drinking, gambling, and fight-\\ning. At length one evening we reached the crowded\\nlevee of St. Louis. Repairing to the Planters House,\\nwe caused diligent search to be made for our trunks,\\nwhich were at length discovered stowed away in the\\nfarthest corner of the store-room. In the morning,\\ntransformed by the magic of the tailor s art, we\\nhardly recognized each other.\\nOn the evening before our departure, Henry\\nChatillon came to our rooms at the Planters House\\nto take leave of us. No one who met him in the\\n30", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0497.jp2"}, "494": {"fulltext": "466 THE OREGON TRAIL.\\nstreets of St. Louis would have taken him for a\\nhunter fresh from the Rocky Mountains. He was\\nvery neatly and simply dressed in a suit of dark\\ncloth; for although since his sixteenth year he had\\nscarcely been for a month together among the abodes\\nof men, he had a native good taste which always led\\nhim to pay great attention to his personal appearance.\\nHis tall athletic figure with its easy flexible motions\\nappeared to advantage in his present dress; and his\\nfine face, though roughened by a thousand storms,\\nwas not at all out of keeping with it. He had served\\nus with a fidelity and zeal beyond all praise. We\\ntook leave of him with regret; and unless his chang-\\ning features, as he shook us by the hand, belied him,\\nthe feeling on his part was no less than on ours.\\nShaw had given him a horse at Westport. My rifle,\\nan excellent piece, which he had always been fond of\\nusing, is now in his hands, and perhaps at this moment\\nits sharp voice is startling the echoes of the Rocky\\nMountains. On the next morning we left town, and\\nafter a fortnight of railroads, coaches, and steamboats,\\nsaw once more the familiar features of home.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0498.jp2"}, "495": {"fulltext": "INDEX.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0499.jp2"}, "496": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0500.jp2"}, "497": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\nAbsinth, 144.\\nAdveuturers, 4.\\nAfijassiz Museum, the, 360.\\nAlleghanies, the, 6, 103.\\nAmelia, the steamer, 465.\\nAmerican Fur Company, the, 16,\\n80; posts established by, 122;\\n135, 152, 182, 348.\\nAmericans, the, in the battle of\\nSacramento, 435.\\nAnimals, inferior, the Indians as-\\ncribe intelligence to, 280.\\nAntelope, 82, 95, 143, 147, 162,\\n163; the graceful peace spirit\\nof the Ogillallah, 180; 210, 216,\\n230, 253, 269, 314, 317, 340, 443.\\nApennines, the, 215.\\nArapahoes, the, fastnesses of, x\\n161, 225, 286; their declaration\\nagainst the whites, 292 the\\ndragoons among, 293 treach-\\nery of, 293 their consternation,\\n293 send a deputation to Fort\\nLaramie, 294 become insolent,\\n294; 365,366,368,374,375,391,\\n392, 393 the language of, 39.t\\nParkman among, 392-397 399,\\n401,405,406.\\nArkansas Kiver, the, 77, 282,\\n348, 353, 354, 355; Kearney s\\nmarch up, 355 366, 370, 374,\\n389, 393, 394, 413, 417; Park-\\nman on, 434, 461.\\nArkansas Valley, the, 374.\\nArrow-Breakers, The, 302, 303.\\nArrow- Head, Chief, at the Ogil-\\nlallah village, 236.\\nAsh Hollow, 107.\\nAstoria, Irving s, 151\\nAtlantic, the, 14.\\nBackwoodsman, the, American,\\nhis home the forest, 132; com-\\npared with the Canadian voya-\\ngeur, 132; 155.\\nBadgers, 404.\\nBad Wound, Chief, lodge of, 236.\\nBaptiste, Jean, 16.\\nBeaver, the, 271, 296, 297, 305,\\n306.\\nBeckworth, Jim, adventures of,\\n152-154.\\nBent s Fort, 292, 347, 348, 372,\\n376, 377 location of, 377\\nParkman at, 377 379, 382,390,\\n391.\\nBig Blue, the, Parkman at, 62,\\n63; 65.\\nBig Crow, Chief, at the Ogillallah\\nvillage, 235 lodge of, 236, 237\\n239, 241, 243. 246, 249, 251, 259,\\n268, 270, 274, 280, 282, 283 his\\nscars, 284-286; 299, 310, 335.\\nBig-horn, the, 311, 328.\\nBisonette, a trapper, 196, 200, 203,\\n205, 206, 343, 348 camp of,\\n352; Parkman visits, 353, 356,\\n361.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0501.jp2"}, "498": {"fulltext": "470\\nINDEX.\\nBitter Cotton-wood Creek, Park-\\nman at, 209.\\nBlackfoot, the, 70, 71.\\nBlackfoot country, the, 70.\\nBlackfoot war-party, a, attacked\\nby the Crows, 152-154.\\nBlack Hills, the, x, 115, 119, 177,\\n180, 192, 194, 19.5, 21.3, 238,\\n251, 275, 288, 296, 297, 305-308,\\n313, 317, 446, 453.\\nBoiling Spring Creek, Parkman\\nat, 370.\\nBoisverd, a trapper, 10, 26, 62. 63,\\n70.\\nBoone, Daniel, 13, 156.\\nBoone, Mr., of Westport, 13\\n464.\\nBoot, a trapper killed by the In-\\ndians, 293.\\nBordeaux, at Fort Laramie, 119;\\n120, 121, 126, 127, 130, 131;\\nquarrels with Perrault, 157\\nhis cowardice, 157; 158, 171;\\nrefuses to receive the gifts of\\nthe deputation of the Arapa-\\nhoes, 294 344.\\nBoston, 379.\\nBridger s Fort, 380.\\nBrule, the, thorough savages,\\n134.\\nBuena Vista, the volunteers of,\\n132.\\nBuffalo, the, ix, 20, 75, 77, 81-99,\\n159, 177, 227, 229, 230, 234,\\n235, 252, 254, 256, 259, 263, 264,\\n265, 266, 274, 314, 315, 317,\\n367 methods of hunting, 402-\\n405 406, 407, 408, 409, 410,\\n411, 412,413; the camp of, 414-\\n433; 441, 444, 446, 448, 453,\\n459.\\nBull-Bear, see Mahto-Tatonka.\\nBull-Tail, 161.\\nBuzzards, 430.\\nC Captain, at Westport,\\n7 description of, 7 joins Park-\\nman s party, 8 12, 26 at Fort\\nLeavenworth, 31 his outfit, 33\\n35, 36, 43, 44, 45, 52, 53, 59, 60,\\n61, 68 hunting buffalo, 86 98,\\n99 Parkman s party takes leave\\nof, 105.\\nC Jack, 8, 27, 36, 39, 43, 59,\\n61, 98, 105, 106.\\nCaches, The, 391, 392, 397, 447.\\nCacti, 144.\\nCalifornia, xiv, 3, 8, 66, 156, 234,\\n355, 374, 379, 455, 456.\\nCalifornia emigrants, the, 47, 155,\\n348, 380, 417, 418, 429, 432.\\nCamanches, the, 347, 355, 376, 387,\\n447, 461.\\nCanadians, 356, 365.\\nCannibalism, 156.\\nCapri, the cliffs of, 370.\\nCarondelet, the town of, xvi,\\nCarson, Kit, 405.\\nCatlin, the traveller, 128.\\nChatillon, Henry, Parkman s\\nguide, xvi, 1 5 description of,\\n16; characteristics of, 17, 18,\\n425 2.5, 35, 42, 49, 54, 62, 64,\\n73; hunting buffalo, 81-84;\\n86, 87, 90, 92, 93, 97, 98, 108,\\n109, 111, 114; at Fort Laramie,\\n120, 126 sickness of his squaw,\\n141, 142; 143, 146, 148, 149,\\n150, 164; death of his squaw,\\n166-168; 170,181,195,196,203,\\n204, 208, 252, 343, 346, 350,\\n351, 363, 366, 367, 368, 377, 382,\\n390, 391, 394, 395, 396, 399\\napproaching buffalo, 405\\n406, 408, 415, 418, 419, 421,\\n423, 424, 426, 428, 430, 431, 439,\\n443, 444, 448, 453, 454, 459, 400,\\n464, 465.\\nCherry Creek, Parkman at, 366.\\nChick Colonel, 6, 11, 464.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0502.jp2"}, "499": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\n471\\nChick, Mrs., 11.\\nChief, tiie Indian, the authority\\nof, 176.\\nChihuahua, the city of, 435.\\nChugwater, 149, 150, 164, 165,\\n342.\\nCimarron, the, 434.\\nCouncil Grove, 460.\\nCow Creek, 459, 460.\\nCrickets, 359.\\nCrows, the, 22 violate the sepul-\\nture of the Dahcotahs, 125\\nwar-parties of, 148, 149 attack\\nthe Blackfoot war-party, 152-\\n154; 165, 1G9, 220; the grand\\nwar-party against, 287.\\nCrow village, the, 152.\\nCurlews, 144, 212.\\nDahcotah, the, exploit of, 74.\\nDahcotah, the, 101, 110, 113;\\ntheir place of sepulture, 125;\\ntake advantage of the timorous\\nmood of the emigrants, 133\\ndemand a feast, 1 33 war-\\nlike excitement among, 139;\\nencounter great reverses, 139\\nprepare to take revenge upon the\\nSnakes, 140 their rendezvous\\nat La Bonte s camp, 140\\n148, 149; exterminate the vil-\\nlage of the Hohays, 1 52 cut\\noff the Delawares, 1 52 bent on\\nwar, 159 range over a vast\\nterritory, 175 their diversions,\\n176; their customs, 176; their\\nhospitality, 179; 220; fraterni-\\nties among, 302 the custom of\\ngifts among, 302 352, 356, 358,\\n395, 396.\\nDahcotah, the eastern, 176.\\nDahcotah, tlie western, have no\\nfixed habitations, 177; war the\\nbreath of their nostrils, 177.\\nDeer, 147, 223, 309, 318.\\nDeer, blatk-tailed, 306, 311, 314,\\n336.\\nDelawares, the, at Westport, 7\\n21, 23, 24, 25, 26 cut off by the\\nDahcotah, 152.\\nDeslauriers, Parkman s muleteer,\\nxvi, 15 de.scription of, 16 18,\\n22, 23, 33, 36, 37, 42, 48, 49, 50,\\n53, ,54, 56, 57, 63, 70, 71, 104,\\n106, 140, 142, 143, 147, 188, 203,\\n206, 208, 344, 349, 359, 364, 368,\\n377, 381, 385, 386, 393, 406, 408,\\n414, 415, 417, 427, 428, 430, 439,\\n440, 441, 464, 465.\\nDiamond Spring, 461.\\nDobbs, Dr., 451.\\nDog-feast, the, 138, 241.\\nDoniphan, success at Sacramento\\nof, 435.\\nDoniphan s volunteers, 434 in\\nthe battle of Sacramento, 436.\\nDor-bugs, 53, 54.\\nDorion, Paul, the Dahcotah, at\\nFort Laramie, 151-156, 343,\\n352.\\nDorion, Pierre, 151.\\nDragoons, the, expedition of, 12,\\n34 46, 47 among the Arapa-\\nhoes, 292, 293.\\nEagle-Feather, Chief, at the\\nOgillallah village, 235, 246;\\n330.\\nElder Grove, 461.\\nElk, 145, 223, 308,309, 311,318,\\n328, 336.\\nEllis, at Bent s Fort, 380; 386,\\n387, 390, 414, 416, 446, 448.\\nEllis, Mary, grave of, 65.\\nEmigrants, 5, 66 at Fort Laramie,\\n131 their prejudice against the\\nFrench Indians, 131 timorous\\nmood of, 133. See also Cali-\\nfornia emigrants and Oregon\\nemigrants.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0503.jp2"}, "500": {"fulltext": "472\\nINDEX.\\nEngages, the, at Fort Laramie,\\n120, 126.\\nEngland, 103.\\nEurope, 103.\\nEwing, 392.\\nFire-medicine, 278.\\nFive Hundred Dollar, Chatil-\\nlon s horse, 81, 82, 109.\\nForest, the, the home of the back-\\nwoodsman, 132.\\nForts, Indian, 224.\\nFoxes, 334.\\nFrederic, 86, 87.\\nFremont, disastrous passage of,\\nxvi; 277.\\nFrench, the, 131.\\nFrench Indians, the, prejudice of\\nthe emigrants against, 131.\\nFrench hunters, at Independence,\\n6.\\nFur Company, the, see American\\nFur Company, the.\\nGamblebs, 4.\\nGambling, among the Indians,\\n281.\\nGentile persecution, x.\\nGentiles, the, 376.\\nGerman forests, the, 103.\\nGifts, tlie custom of, among the\\nDahcotahs, 302.\\nGingras, a trapper, 160, 169, 189,\\n196.\\nGoche s Plole, 350.\\nGold, in the Black Mountains,\\n313.\\nGood Woman, the, 276, 278, 342.\\nGrasslioppers, 359.\\nGreat Spirit, the, 159, 178, 185,\\n278, 291, 293.\\nGrizzly bears, 18, 19, 180, 187, 209,\\n223,350, 351, 373.\\nGros- Ventre Blackfeet, the, 225,\\n28G.\\nGurney, .Tim, at Bent s Fort, 379,\\n380; 386, 401, 414, 426, 439,\\n446, 448, 465.\\nHail-Storm, The, 143; at the\\nOgillallah village, 236 254, 255,\\n275 character of, 318, 319, 320,\\n321, 335, 336, 337.\\nHalf-breeds, 117.\\nHare, the gray, 144, 228.\\nHendrick, Parkmau s horse,\\n22, 38, 39, 84, 106, 160, 164.\\nHog, The, 113, 114.\\nHohays, the, their village extermi-\\nnated by the Dahcotah, 152.\\nHolt, Mr., at Bent s Fort, 378.\\nHopkins, John, 382.\\nHorn, Cape, 132.\\nHorned frog, the, 359.\\nHorse, The, 141, 143, 146, 150;\\ncharacter of, 319.\\nHorse Creek, Parkman at. 111,\\n348, 351, 352.\\nHorseshoe Creek, 200, 205.\\nHorse-stealing, among the In-\\ndians, 183.\\nIllinois, the State of, 9, 47, 103.\\nIowa, tlie State of, 379.\\nIowa Indians, the, village of, 46.\\nIndependence, rendezvous of emi-\\ngrants at, 5 Parkman at, 5, 9\\ndescription of life at, 9 47.\\nIndian, tlie, shorn of his pictur-\\nesqueuess, xi cannot act in\\nlarge liodies, 175 the living rep-\\nresentative of the stone age,\\n234; liis idea of thunder, 238;\\nascribes intelligence to inferior\\nanimals, 280 his gambling,\\n281 his medicines, 282 his\\nfondness for his children, 283\\ntortures of, 284 effect of sick-\\nness upon, 290, 291 his guardian\\nsi^irit, 324.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0504.jp2"}, "501": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\n473\\nludiau apple, the, 14.\\nIndian police, the, 263, 301 the\\nimportant functions of, 303\\ntheir authority, 303.\\nIndian traders, 107.\\nIndian village, the, description of,\\n176.\\nInsects, prairie, 96.\\nIro(iuois, the, 26.\\nIrving, Washington, 151.\\nI.srael, the lost tribes of, 166.\\nJames, Tete Rouge s horse,\\n457, 462.\\nKanzas, Parkman at, 6, 11, 12,\\n464.\\nKanzas Indians, the, 4, 6 at\\nWestport, 7 19, 20, 21, 461.\\nKanzas Kiver, the, 10, 21, 23.\\nKearney, General, at Fort Leaven-\\nworth, 28; 31, 34, 47, 156, 282,\\n292, 293 his inarch up the\\nArkansas, 355 marches against\\nSanta Fe, 372 376, 378, 393,\\n434.\\nKearsley, 68, 69, 75, 78, 80.\\nKentucky, the wilderness of, 103.\\nKickapoos, the, 30.\\nKickapoo trader, the, 29 enter-\\ntains Parkman, 30, 31 34.\\nKickapoo village, the, 28 Park-\\nman at, 30.\\nKongra-Tonga, see Big Crow.\\nLa Bonte s Camp, Indian ren-\\ndezvous at, 140; 146, 159, 171,\\n175, 194, 196, 201 Parkman\\nat, 203; 218, 326.\\nLajeunesse, Autoine, 464.\\nLaramie Creek, 119, 128, 143, 144,\\n145, 162, 163, 196, 217, 220,\\n277, 340, 341, 343.\\nLaramie, Fort, 34, 46, 76, 86, 88,\\n103, 105, 117, 118, 119 its in-\\nmates, 120; Parkman at, 121,\\n122 description of, 122, 123;\\ndomestic economy at, 126;\\nscenes at, 127-138; 142, 156,\\n160, 193, 196, 204, 207, 208, 211,\\n229, 244, 252, 253, 292; the\\nArapalioes send a deputation to,\\n294 326, 334, 343, 346 Park-\\nman bids adieu to, 348 349,\\n352, 359, 371, 374.\\nLaramie, Mount, 210, 219.\\nLaramie Plains, 139.\\nLatter Day Saints, the, 47.\\nLeavenworth, Fort, 12, 24, 26, 27\\nI arkman at, 28 Kearney at,\\n28 38, 46, 292, 462, 465.\\nLe Borgne, description of, 179;\\nthe vision of, 180, 235.\\nLe Cochon, see Hog, The.\\nLe Rouge, Antoine, 343, 352, 356,\\n357.\\nLittle Arkansas, the, 460.\\nLizards, 359.\\nLodges, Indian, visited by Park-\\nman, 135.\\nLong s Peak, 362.\\nLower Delaware, the, 21.\\nLower Platte, the, 74.\\nMackenzie, 252.\\nMad Wolf, Chief, 190; at the\\nOgillallah village, 235 his\\nstruggle with Tall Bear, 302,\\n303.\\nMagoffin, a trader, 391.\\nMahto-Tatonka, the Ogillallah\\nchief, description of, 181 his\\nfeud with Smoke, 181-183; his\\ndeath, 182; 246.\\nMahto-Tatonka, the youugcr, 150,\\n166, 170, 171, 179, 183; descrip-\\ntion of, 183-185 191, 198, 235.\\nMargot, Reynal s squaAV, 143, 147,\\n264, 276.\\nMarie Bordeaux s equaw, 130, 131", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0505.jp2"}, "502": {"fulltext": "474\\nINDEX.\\nMatamoras, Taylor s victories at,\\n355.\\nMaxwell, a trader, 395.\\nMay, a trader, 119, 128.\\nMay, a trapper, killed by the In-\\ndians, 293.\\nMcCliiskey, a trader, 158, 159.\\nMedicine Bow range, the, 231,\\n245, 275, 285, 294, 295.\\nMedicine-man, the, 173, 288.\\nMedicine-pipe, the, 172.\\nMedicines, Indian, 282.\\nMedicine-song, the, 300.\\nMedicine-smoke, the, 301.\\nMcneaska, the, 135, 186, 243, 248,\\n289, 333, 355.\\nMene-Seela, see Red- Water.\\nMethodist Shawanoe Mission, the,\\n20.\\nMexican clergy, the, 253.\\nMexican frontier, the, 116.\\nMexicans, 87, 155, 355, 371, 372,\\n374, 375, 382, 383, 385, 386 in\\nthe battle of Sacramento, 435,\\n436; 451.\\nMexican territories, 26, 233.\\nMexico, 355, 382.\\nMinnicongew lodges, the, 154, 159.\\nMissourians, 434, 456, 458, 459,\\n460.\\nMissouri River, the, 3, 4, 6, 11, 12,\\n26, 28, 29, 77, 155, 157, 160, 464.\\nMissouri, the State of, xvi, 5, 20,\\n46, 47, 103, 187, 463.\\nMissouri Volunteers, the, 455.\\nMoIiawLs, the, 190.\\nMonterey, the volunteers of, 132.\\nMonthalon, at Fort Laramie, 121,\\n128.\\nMorin, a trapper, 169, 172; his\\nbride, 173; 200, 205.\\nMormon, x.\\nMormon battalion, tlie, 455.\\nMormons, the, 47, 48, 107, 373,\\n376, 456.\\nMormon settlement, the, Parkman\\nat, 375.\\nMountain men, the, 4, 87, 117,\\n380.\\nMule-killer, the, 4.\\nMunroe, at Bent s Fort, 379 385,\\n386, 415, 417, 427, 430, 453, 454,\\n465.\\nNaples, the sky of, 370.\\nNauvoo, the great Mormon temple\\nof, 376 trading establishment\\nat, 382.\\nNavaho slaves, 116.\\nNegroes, 4.\\nNew England, 23, 137, 144, 209.\\nNew Hampshire, the mountains\\nof, 23.\\nNew Mexico, 434.\\nNew Orleans, 382.\\nNez Perce Mission, the, 253.\\nOgillallah, the, 22 thorough\\nsavages, 134 Parkman and\\nShaw among, 136; 175,176; the\\nantelope the graceful peace\\nspirit of, 180; 181; the lodges\\nof, 231 234, 244, 286, 287, 304.\\nOgillallah village, the, Parkman\\nat, 234-247; breaks up, 248;\\nlegends and traditions of, 272\\n344.\\nOhio, the wilderness of, 103.\\nOjibwas, the, 176.\\nOld Smoke, 109, 111, 134;- his\\nlodge, 136, 137; entertains\\nParkman, 137, 138; his feud\\nwith Mahto-Tatonka, 181, 347.\\nOregon, xiv, 3, 6, 8, 66, 103, 135,\\n234.\\nOregon emigrants, the, 4, 34, 46,\\n47, 64, 373, 380.\\nOsages, tlie, 461.\\nOttawa River, the, rapids of, 132.\\nOwls, 361.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0506.jp2"}, "503": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\n475\\nPacific Ocean, the, xiv.\\nPalo Alto, the battle of, 372.\\nPanther, Chief, at the Ogillallah\\nvillage, 235 253, 254 char-\\nacter of, 330 333.\\nPapin, the boss of Fort Lar-\\namie, 86, 87, 121 252, 340,\\n349.\\nParkman, Francis, at Pike s Peak,\\nxiii the motives for his trip\\nto the Rocky Mountains, xv\\namong the Sioux, xvi on board\\nthe Radnor, 3 at Independ-\\nence, 5, 9 at Kanzas, 6 at\\nWestport, 6 fellow-travellers,\\n8 an unfortunate beginning,\\n12; description of his com-\\npanions, 16; visitors, 19; on\\nthe Kanzas, 21 at Fort Leaven-\\nworth, 28 at the Kickapoo vil-\\nlage, 30 entertained by the\\nKickapoo trader, 30, 31 mis-\\ngivings, 33; jumping off,\\n33-46 on the St. Joseph trail,\\n48-62 reaches the Big Blue,\\n62 in camp, 64 a further ad-\\ndition to the party, 69 in the\\nPlatte Valley, 76 hunting\\nbuffalo, 82-84, 90, 266-268;\\na predicament, 89 lost on the\\nprairie, 94-97 at the South\\nFork of the Platte, 100 takes\\nleave of Captain C s party,\\n104; at Scott s Bluff, 108;\\namong the Dahcotahs, 110; in\\nOld Smoke s village. 111; a\\nmatrimonial bargain proposed,\\n114; entertained by Richard,\\n1 16, 1 17 reaches Fort Laramie,\\n119 at Fort Laramie, 120-138\\nvisits an Indian lodge, 135 en-\\njoys a dog-feast, 138 plans to\\nbe present at the rendezvous\\nat La Bonte s camp, 140;\\nforced to give up his plan, 141,\\n142; his illness, 142; hires rein-\\nforcements, 142, 143; in danger\\nfrom the Crows, 1 49 his ex-\\nperiences with Paul at Fort\\nLaramie, 151-156 his ad-\\nventures returning to camp,\\n158-165; entertained by the\\nDahcotah, 179; visits the\\nWhirlwind, 185, 186; scenes\\nin his camp, 186-190; sick in\\ncamp, 191, 192; ill-luck, 193-\\n202 at La Bonte s camp, 203\\nhunting Indians, 204-231 at\\nBitter Cottonwood Creek, 209;\\nat the lodges of the Ogillallah,\\n231, 234; visits the Big Crow,\\n237-247; return of his illness,\\n249, 251 as a fire medicine,\\n278 in Big Crow s lodge, 280-\\n286; visits White Shield, 287,\\n288 breaks camp, 298 a\\nthreatened attack, 299 in the\\nBlack Hills, 305-308; a moun-\\ntain hunt, 310-325; passage of\\nthe mountains, 326-345 rejoins\\nShaw at Fort Laramie, 343-345\\nbids adieu to Fort Laramie,\\n348 at Goche s Hole, 350\\nat Bisonette s camp, 352; en-\\ntertained by the Stabber, 354;\\nat Cherry Creek, 366; at Boil-\\ning Spring Creek, 370 at\\nPueblo, 370-374; at the Mor-\\nmon settlement, 375 at Bent s\\nFort, 377-380; on the Upper\\nArkansas, 388 Indian alarms,\\n388-401 among the Arapalioes,\\n392-397 a buffalo chase, 405-\\n413; the buffalo camp, 41 4-433\\ndown the Arkansas, 434-454\\nreturns to the settlements, 455-\\n466.\\nParks, the, 177.\\nParks, Chief, 20.\\nPauline, Parkmau s mare, 207,", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0507.jp2"}, "504": {"fulltext": "476\\nINDEX.\\n210, 212, 216, 218, 221, 222, 223,\\n228, 229, 250, 262, 264, 266, 267,\\n268, 306, 335, 340, 411, 412.\\nPawnee Fork, the, 392.\\nPawnees, the, 19, 44, 69, 71, 73,\\n75, 78, 101, 136, 347, 348, 376,\\n396, 397, 444, 447, 457, 461.\\nPawnee trail, the, 74.\\nPawnee villages, the, 74, 88.\\nPemmican, 262.\\nPenn, William, 26.\\nPennsylvania, the State of, 23.\\nPerrault, quarrels with Bor-\\ndeaux, 157 sets out for Fort\\nPierre, 157.\\nPhilip, King, 175.\\nPierre, at Fort Laramie, 127, 128.\\nPierre, Fort, 157, 344.\\nPike s Peak, Parkman at, xiii\\n195, 367, 369.\\nPlanters House, the, St. Louis,\\n465.\\nPlatte, the, 34, 37, 40, 47, 48, 69,\\n73, 75, 76, 77 the climate of,\\n79; 81, 86, 88, 94, 97, 100, 101,\\n103, 107, 114, 115, 118, 140,205\\n366.\\nPlatte Valley, the, Parkman in,\\n76.\\nPontiac, 175.\\nPontiac, Parkman s hor.=;e, 22,\\n38, 39, 42, 54, 92, 93,94, 97, 106,\\n207.\\nPottawattamies, the, 30.\\nPrairie Cock, the, 135.\\nPrairie-dogs, 85, 96, 144, 360, 361.\\nPrairie-dog village, a, 149.\\nPrice s Missouri regiment, 434,\\n436, 448.\\nPueblo, the, 353, 358, 364 Park-\\nman at, 370; the gate of, 371\\nthe state apartment of, 372\\napprehension of the inhabitants\\nof, 374 377.\\nPukwi lodges, the, 30.\\nQuebec, 16.\\nR Colonel, 156.\\nK Mr., at Westport, 7 joins\\nParkman s party, 8 10 a high-\\nhanded proceeding, 12 27 at\\nFort Leavenworth, 32 his out-\\nfit, 33 34, 36, 46, 59, 61 at\\nthe Big Blue, 62, 63 68\\nhis further stupidity, 68 86,\\n88; lost on the prairie, 98; re-\\nturns to camp, 101, 102; Park-\\nman s party takes leave of, 104.\\nRabbit, The, 275, 318, 320.\\nRabbits, 316.\\nRadnor, the, Parkman on, 3\\nher freight, 3 her passengers,\\n4.\\nRattlesnake, the, 144, 364.\\nRaymond, the hunter, death of,\\nxii joins Parkman s party, 142,\\n143, 147, 204, 207, 208, 210, 211,\\n212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218,\\n220 221 222 223 225 228 229\\n230, 231 at the Ogillallah vil-\\nlage, 234, 237, 241, 242, 244, 248,\\n250, 252, 253, 258, 259 263,\\n264, 268, 269, 274, 298, 299, 300,\\n306, 307, 310, 311, 321, 327, 328,\\n329, 335, 336, 340, 341, 343, 349,\\n357, 363, 376.\\nReddick, adventures of, 347.\\nRed-Water, Chief, at the Ogil-\\nlallah village, 235 lodge of,\\n236, 238; 244, 245, 246, 257,\\n261,270; a great friend to tlie\\nwhites, 271 272, 294, 299, 301,\\n323, 324.\\nResaca de la Palma, the battle of,\\n372.\\nReyual, the Indian trader, joins\\nParkman s party, 143 147, 150,\\n164, 169, 170, 187, 188, 194, 197,\\n223 at the Ogillallah village,\\n234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 240, 241,", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0508.jp2"}, "505": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\n477\\n242, 243, 246, 251. 252, 253, 254,\\n258, 264, 265, 274, 275, 288, 289.\\n290, 297, 299, 300, 307, 310, 312,\\n313, 314, 315, 316, 317, 318, 320,\\n321, 328, 329, 339, 340.\\nRichard entertains Parkmau, 116,\\n117; 118; his trading-house,\\n151; 155, 188; at Pueblo, 371,\\n372, 374; 377.\\nRichard s Fort, 154, 155, 159.\\nRichardson, 343.\\nRidge-path, the, 452, 456.\\nRio Grande, the, 142.\\nRock Creek, 461.\\nRocky Mountains, the, Parkman s\\ntrip to, 3; 17, 26, 34, 76, 80, 141,\\n176, 200, 231, 275, 296, 315,\\n362, 466.\\nRocky Mountain trapper, the, wild\\nand perilous life of, 170 193.\\nRoman empire, the, 103.\\nRoot-Diggers, the, 257.\\nRoubidou, the blacksmith, 160.\\nRouleau, a trapper, 161, 169, 182,\\n275, 278 hazardous enterprise\\nof, 292 laughs at danger, 294\\ndescription of, 295 his unlucky\\npartiality for squaws, 295 life\\nof, 296 his departure, 297.\\nRouville, 348, 349 description of,\\n349 351, 352.\\nRussel s party, 348.\\nSacramento, Doniphan s success\\nat, 435.\\nSacs and Foxes, the, at Westport,\\n7; 461.\\nSt. Joseph, 46, 47.\\nSt. Joseph emigrants, the, 47.\\nSt. Joseph s trail, the, 46 Park-\\nman on, 48.\\nSt. Louis, the city of, xvi a busy\\nseason in, 3 Kanzas Indians in,\\n4; 7, 8, 16, 17,28, 152, 252, 349,\\n436, 451, 465, 466.\\nSt. Louis volunteers, the, 382.\\nyt. Peter, the river, 176.\\n8t. Vrain, M., 365.\\nSanta Fe, 3 expedition at, 28\\n253, 371 Kearney marches\\nagainst, 372; 377, 391, 434,\\n437, 450, 456.\\nSanta Fe trade, the, 3.\\nSanta Fe traders, 4, 5, 9, 391.\\nSaraphiu, a trapper, 169, 275;\\nhazardous enterprise of, 292\\nlaughs at danger, 294 descrip-\\ntion of, 295 his departure, 297.\\nScott s Bluff, Parkman at, 108.\\nSelf-torture, among the Indians,\\n284.\\nSepulture, Indian places of, 125.\\nShaw, Quincy Adams, with Park-\\nman in his trip to the Rocky\\nMountains, 3 15, 16, 18, 22, 31,\\n33, 43, 44, 46 on the St. Joseph\\ntrail, 48, 57 at the Big Blue,\\n63, 73; on the Platte, 81, 85;\\nhunting buffalo, 90-93 97, 99,\\n106 visits an Indian lodge, 135\\nassumes a medical character,\\n136, 137 143, 147, 149, 150,\\n1 64 his adventures with Cha-\\ntillon, 165-168; 196, 197, 202,\\n203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208;\\nseriously ill, 208; 211, 252;\\nill at Fort Laramie, 252; 282,\\n292, 326, 334, 343, 344, 345, 346\\nbids adieu to Fort Laramie, 348\\n350, 351, 364, 367, 368, 383, 388,\\n394, 401, 405, 406; a buffalo\\nchase, 408-413; 415, 416, 417,\\n422, 423, 424, 425, 428, 430, 431,\\n433, 436, 446, 448, 453, 454, 466.\\nShawanoes, the, at Westport, 7\\n18, 20, 23, 26,462.\\nSheep, Rocky Mountain, 223, 242,\\n308, 328, 329.\\nShields, Indian, 396.\\nShiennes, the, at the Ogillallah vil-", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0509.jp2"}, "506": {"fulltext": "478\\nINDEX.\\nlage, 235 lodges of, 352 356,\\n358, 381.\\nSibille, a trader, 352.\\nSide Fork of Laramie Creek, the,\\n212.\\nSimoneau, the hunter, 17, 119.\\nSioux, the, Parkman among, xvi\\n134, 158 range over a vast ter-\\nritory, 175.\\nSmoke, see Old Smoke.\\nSmoke s village, 109, 111, 128-133,\\n142.\\nSmoking, the prairie custom of,\\n117.\\nSnake country, the, 139, 247.\\nSnakes, 96, 361.\\nSnakes, the, wipe out the Ogillal-\\nlah expedition, 139 dread tlie\\nresentment of the Dahcotah,\\n139 The Whirlwind prepares\\nto take revenge upon, 140;\\nthe Dahcotah make war upon,\\n176; 225, 229, 245, 258, 285;\\nthe grand war-party against,\\n287, 289.\\nSoldiers, the, see Indian police,\\nthe.\\nSorel, a Canadian, 8, 10, 26, 62,\\n63 hunting buffalo, 86 lost\\non the prairie, 98 returns to\\ncamp, 102.\\nSouth Fork of the Platte, the,\\nParkman at, 100, 362, 364.\\nSpaniards at Independence, 5.\\nSpeculators, 4.\\nSquaws, Indian, 111, 112, 120,\\n124, 129, 130, 134, 136 the pur-\\nchase of, 172 the stealing of,\\n183; 243, 273,397.\\nSquirrels, black, 367.\\nStabber, The, entertains Park-\\nman, 354 his story, 354, 355.\\nStephens, Bill, 382.\\nStone age, the, Indians the liv-\\ning representatives of, 234.\\nStrong Hearts, the, society of,\\n358.\\nSublette, adventures of, 347, 348,\\n377.\\nSwau, killed by the Indians, 391\\ngrave of, 447.\\nSweetwater, 292.\\nTall Bear, struggles with the\\nMad Wolf, 302, 303.\\nTaos, 253, 371.\\nTaylor, General, at Matamoraa,\\n355; 435.\\nTecumseh, 175.\\nTete Rouge, description of, 381\\nsketch of, 382 hifl illness, 382,\\n383; 384, 385, 386, 389, 390,\\n393, 398, 400, 401, 405, 417, 419,\\n426, 427, 428, 429, 430, 432, 438,\\n439, 440, 451, 453, 456, 457, 458,\\n462.\\nThunder, the Indian idea of, 238.\\nThunder-fighters, Indian, 239.\\nTom, 89, 90.\\nTraders, at Fort Laramie, 120;\\n365.\\nTrapper, the mountain, xv.\\nTrappers, 107 at Fort Laramie,\\n120; 1.55.\\nTroche, a trapper, 348, 350.\\nTucker, 119.\\nTurkey-buzzards, 432.\\nTurner, 73.\\nUpper Arkansas, the, Parkman\\non, 388 Kearney on, 434.\\nUpper Lakes, the, 176.\\nUpper Missouri, the, 152.\\nUtah squaw, the, 350.\\nVaskiss, the trader, 119, 122, 128,\\n139.\\nVera Cruz, 382.\\nVermont woods, the, 23.\\nVogel, in Kanzas, 12; 464.\\nII", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0510.jp2"}, "507": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\n479\\n]^oi/ngeur, the Canadian, compared\\nwith the backwoodsman, 132.\\nVultures, 432, 433.\\nWasna, 262, 276, 318, 342.\\nWeah Washtay, see Good Woman,\\nthe.\\nWest, 190.\\nWestern plains, the, 14.\\nWestport, Parkman at, 6 full of\\nIndians, 7 10, 12, 13, 14, 20, 31,\\n73, 464, 465, 466.\\nWhirlwind, the, the Ogillallah\\nchief, 139 his hatred of the\\nSnakes, 139; makes his prepara-\\ntions for revenge, 140 Park-\\nman plans to join, 142 146,\\n150, 158, 159, 171, 175; Park-\\nman visits, 185, 186, 194; 235,\\n236, 326.\\nWhirlwind s village, the, 142, 204.\\nWhite Shield, Chief, 198; at the\\nOgillallah village, 235 256\\nlodge of, 287, 288; illness of,\\n288, 289; 290, 291.\\nWolves, 71, 72, 82, 95, 101, 144,\\n145, 187, 210, 229, 230, 282,\\n308, 368, 390, 404, 431, 432, 433,\\n445, 447, 454.\\nWright, a muleteer, 26, 33, 36, 37,\\n63, 79, 104.\\nWyandots, the, at Westport, 7.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0511.jp2"}, "508": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0512.jp2"}, "509": {"fulltext": "FRANCIS PARKMAN S WORKS\\nNEW LIBRARY EDITION.\\nPrintod from entirely new plates, in clear and beautiful type,\\nupon a choice laid paper. Illustrated with twenty-four photo-\\ngravure plates executed by Goupil from historical portraits, and\\nfrom original drawings and paintings by Howard Pyle, De Cost\\nSmith, Thule de Thulstrup, Frederic Remington, Orson Lowell.\\nAdrien Moreau, and other artists.\\nTwelve volumes, medium octavo, cloth, gilt top, price,\\n$2.00 per volume; half calf, extra, gilt top, $4,50 per\\nvolume half crushed Levant morocco, extra, gilt top,\\n$6.00 per vol nine half morocco, gilt top, $4.50 per\\nvolume.\\nI.IST OF VOLUMES.\\nPIONEERS OF FRANCE IN THE NEW WORLD I vol.\\nTHE JESUITS Df NORTH AMERICA I vol.\\nLA SALLE AND THE DISCOVERY OF THE GREAT WEST I vol.\\nTHE OLD REGIME IN CANADA I voL\\nCOUNT FRONTENAC AND HEW FRANCE UNDER LOUIS XIV. I vol\\nA HALF CENTURY OF CONFLICT 2 vols.\\nMONTCALM AND WOLFE 2 vols.\\nTHE CONSPIRACY OF PONTIAC AND THE INDLAN WAR AFTER\\nTHE CONQUEST OF CANADA 2 vols.\\nTHE OREGON TRAIL I vol.\\nAny work supplied separately in cloth.\\nIMiUSTBATIONS.\\n1. Portrait of Francis Parkman.\\n2. Jacques Caktier. From the painting at St. Malo.\\n3. Madame de la Peltrie. From the painting in the Convent des\\nUrsulines.\\n4. Father Jogues Haranguing the Mohawks. From the picture\\nby Thule de Thulstrup.\\n5. Father Hennepin Celebrating Mass. From the picture by How-\\nard Pyle.\\n6. La Salle Presenting a Petition to Louis XIV. From the paint-\\ning by Adrien Moreau.\\n7. Jean Baptiste Colbert. From a painting by Claude Leffevbre at\\nVersailles.\\n8. Jean Guyon before Bouill^. From a picture by Orson Lowell.\\n9. Madasie DE Frontenac. From the painting at Versailles.\\n10. Entry of Sir William Phips into the Quebec Basin. From a\\npicture by L. Rossi.\\n11. The Sacs and Foxes. From the picture by Charles Bodmer.\\n12. The Return from Deerfield. From the painting by Howard Pyle.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0513.jp2"}, "510": {"fulltext": "FRANCIS PARKMAN S WORKS.\\n13. Sir William Pei pekkeli^. From the painting by Smibert.\\n14. Makquis dk Beauharnois, Governor of Canada. From tlie\\npainting by Tonnitres in the Musee de Grenoble.\\n15. Marquis de Montcalm. From the original painting in the posses-\\nsion of the present Marquis de Montcahn.\\n16. Marquis de Vaudreuil. From the painting in the possession of the\\nCountess de Clermont Tonnerre.\\n17. General Wolfe. From the original painting bj Highmore.\\n18. The Fall of Montcalm. From the painting by Howard Pyle.\\n19. View of the Taking of Quebec. From the early engraving of a\\ndrawing made on the spot by Capt. Hervej Smytli, Wolfe s aid-de-\\ncamp.\\n20. Col. Henry Bouquet. From the original painting by Benjamin\\nWest.\\n21. The Death of Pontiac. From the Picture by De Cost Smith.\\n22. Sir William Johnson. From a mezzotint engraving.\\n23. Half Sliding, Half Plunging. From a drawing by Frederic\\nRemington.\\n24. The Thunder Fighters. From the picture by Frederic Kemington.\\nIt is hardly necessary to quote here from the innumerable tributes to so\\nfamous an American author as Francis Parkman. Among writers who\\nhave bestowed the highest praise upon his writings are such names as James\\nRussell Lowell, Dr. John Fiske, President Charles W. Eliot of Harvard\\nUniversity, George William Curtis, Edward Eggleston, W. D. Howells,\\nJames Schouler, and Dr. Conan Doyle, as well as many prominent critics in\\nthe United States, in Canada, and in England.\\nIn two respects Francis Parkman was exceptionally fortunate. He chose\\na theme of the closest interest to his countrj men, the colonization of the\\nAmerican Continent and the wars for its possession, and he lived through\\nfifty years of toil to complete the great historical series which he designed\\nwhen but a youth at college.\\nThe text of the New Library Edition is that of the latest issue of each\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2work prepared for the press by the distinguished author. He carefully\\nrevised and added to several of his works, not through change of views,\\nbut in the light of new documentary evidence which his patient research\\nand untiring zeal extracted from the hidden archives of the past. Thus he\\nrewrote and enlarged The Conspiracy of Pontiac the new edition of\\nLa Salle and the Discovery of the Great West (1878), and the 1885\\nedition of Pioneers of France included very important additions and a\\nshort time before his death he added to The Old Regime fifty pages,\\nunder the title of The Feudal Chiefs of Acadia. The New Library Edition\\ntherefore includes each work in its linal state as perfected by the historian.\\nThe indexes have been entirelv remade.\\nLITTLE, BR0W:N^, CO., Publishers,\\n254 Washington Street, Boston.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0514.jp2"}, "511": {"fulltext": "An Important Worii on tlw American Revolution.\\nFRANKLIN IN FRANCE.\\nFrom Ori j;inal Documents, most of which are now published for the\\nFirst Time. By Edward E. Hale and Edwaku E. Hale, Jr.\\nIn 2 vols., 8vo, with 3S historical portraits, including tico fin\u00c2\u00ab\\nsteel portraits of Frnnklin, I ricc, $0.00,\\nCONTENTS.\\nPAKT 1,\\nI. 1767-1769. Franklin s First Visit TO France. The Econ-\\nomists.\\nII. France and the Treaty of 1763.\\nIII. Cakon Dk Beaumakchais.\\nIV. Franklin s Commission.\\nV. Franklin and the French.\\nVI. Paris Revisited.\\nVII. Lambert Wickes and Gustave Conyngiiam.\\nVIII. Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-seven, The Year of\\nthe Three Gibbets.\\nIX. Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-eight, Voltaire and\\nFranklin.\\nX. The Treaty of Alliance. Cooper s Account of D Estaing-\\nXI. The American Prisoners.\\nXII. Hartley s Desires for Peace.\\nXIII. Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-eight.\\nXIV. J(\u00c2\u00bbhn Paul Jones.\\nXV. Seventeen Hundred and Seventy-nine.\\nXVI. The Privateers from Dunkirk.\\nXVII. Captain Pierre Landais.\\nXVIII. The American Prisoners.\\nXIX. Minister Plenipotentiary\\nXX. The Madrid Correspondence, 1780.\\nXXI. The Madrid Correspondence, 1781.\\nXXII. The Year of Yorktown.\\nPAKT II.\\nI. Better Times.\\nII. The Financial Position.\\nIII. The Beginning of the Negotiations.\\nIV. The Parties to the Negotiation.\\nV. Oswold s Commission.\\nVI. Jay takes Charok of Matters.\\nVII. The Position of Vergennes.\\n7 III. The Treaty is Settled and Signed.\\nIX. The Pkkeiminary Articles.\\nX. Other C orrespondence.\\nXI. The End of 1782.\\nXII. Other Diplomacy.\\nXIII. Science, Literature, Politics, and Art, 1783.\\nXIV. Balloons.\\nXV. Mesmer.\\nXVI. Other Correspondence of 1784.", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0515.jp2"}, "512": {"fulltext": "FRANKLIN IN FRANCE.\\nXVII. New Treaties. Jefferson axd Fkankum.\\nXVIII. Home at Last. 1785.\\nXIX. The Fkench Kevolution.\\nXX. Conclusion.\\nAPPENDIX.\\nA. The Stormont Papers.\\nB. The Asgill Trial.\\nC. Letters to Sir Joseph Banks.\\nD. From Miss G. Shipley to Franklin.\\nIn this important work, Dr. Hale and his son have illustrated\\nFranklin s nhie j ears residence in France from the original manu-\\nscript in several large collections, including much valuable material\\nwhich is obtainable in no other work. Several notable questions,\\nsuch as French neutrality, the treatment of j)risoners, privateering,\\nand especially questions relating to the treaties with France and\\nEngland, are here considered in the light of all the important facts\\ninvolved, and consequently with more certainty than in any other\\nwork.\\nThe steel portraits of Franklin are engraved from a very cliarac-\\nteristic portrait ascribed to Van Loo, and a miniature painted in\\nFrance.\\nTo a student of Fraukliu s career this book is indispensable. Tlie authors\\nhave followed out their plan with admirable success, and have given us in an enter-\\ntaining form a new and valuable study of a remarkable man in a remarkable period.\\nFrederick J. Turner, in The Cliicngo DiiiW\\nMuch light is thrown by this volume upon the relations of France and the French\\npeople to the Revolution both before and after the alliance, upon the embarrass-\\nments as well as the advantages of their co-operation, and the real amount of obli-\\ngation to them for their by no means altruistic action in those days. Exehnnge.\\nIt is a conscientious and thorough study of the related events of the period, and\\nso a valuable contribution to general history. Of course the authors could not do\\nless than make an entertaining narrative, for none know better than they how to\\nseize what is picturesque in a life but every page bears evidence of careful research\\nand wide knowledge of the period. There is no neglect of details which show\\nFranklin the man, his private life and his relation to the society of Paris, but public\\nevents are all the time kept in view, and the reader here will find an illumination\\nof our relations with Europe during the Revolutionary War. Hartford Courant.\\nThe work is indeed as interesting as it is important. At the same time it is\\nreadable, fresh, and entert.aining. It tells better than any other how stood the\\naffairs of our country in regard to France and Great Britain, from the unheralded,\\nunexpected, and unwelcome birth of the national Constitution, and what part\\nFranklin took in keeping the infant alive and respected. Boston Beacon.\\nDr. Halo throws new light on the remarkable personality of one of the first, if\\nnot indeed the first of Americans of the last century, and he has made excellent use\\nof the new material to which he has had access. It gives a most graphic picture of\\nthe ante-Revolution French life, both political and social, and presents more fully\\nthan has been previously done the history of the diplomatic relations between\\nFrance and America in the war for American Independence. The volumes are not\\nonly intensely interesting, but are a most valuable contribution to American his-\\ntorical literature. Boston Traveler.\\nA vai-iety of causes enables the authors to present at this time a more correct and\\ncomplete statement of Franklin s mission than has heretofore appeared, and they\\ndo it in such an entertaining way that while retaining all the reUability of historic\\nresearch they have all the charm of literary biography. Journal of Education.\\nLITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, Publishers,\\n254 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON.\\nLbM.", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0516.jp2"}, "513": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0517.jp2"}, "514": {"fulltext": "i\\\\", "height": "2948", "width": "1839", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0518.jp2"}, "515": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2937", "width": "1805", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0519.jp2"}, "516": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3108", "width": "1963", "jp2-path": "oregontrailsketc03park_0520.jp2"}}