Happily for me and my two companions, there still remained two or three gentlemen in San Antonio. These were Colonel Seguin and Messrs. Novarro, senior and junior, Mexican gentlemen, who, liberal in their ideas and frank in their natures, had been induced by the false representations of the Texans not to quit the country after its independence of Mexico; and, as they were men of high rank, by so doing they not only forfeited their rights as citizens of Mexico, but also incurred the hatred and animosity of that government.
Now that they had discovered their error, it was too late to repair it; moreover, pride and, perhaps, a mistaken sense of honour, would not permit them to remove to Mexico, although severed from all those ties which render life sweet and agreeable. Their own sorrows did not, however, interfere with their unbounded hospitality: in their house we found a home. We formed no intimacy with the Texans; indeed, we had no contact whatever with them, except that one day Roche thrashed two of them with his shillalah for ill-treating an old Indian.
Inquiries were made by Colonel Seguin as to where the Comanches might be found, and we soon ascertained that they were in their great village, at the foot of the Green Mountain, upon the southern fork of the head-waters of the Rio Roxo.
We made immediate preparations for departure, and as we proposed to pass through Austin, the capital of Texas, our kind entertainers pressed five hundred dollars upon us, under the plea that no Texan would ever give us a tumbler of water except it was paid for, and that, moreover, it was possible that after passing a few days among the gallant members of Congress, we might miss our holsters or stirrups, our blankets, or even one of our horses.
We found their prediction, in the first instance, but too true. Six miles from Austin we stopped at the farm of the Honourable Judge Webb, and asked leave to water our horses, as they had travelled forty miles under a hot sun without drawing bit. The honourable judge flatly refused, although he had a good well, besides a pond, under fence, covering several acres; his wife, however, reflecting, perhaps, that her stores were rather short of coffee or salt, entered into a rapid discussion with her worse half, and by-and-bye that respectable couple of honourables agreed to sell water to us at twenty-five cents a bucket.
When we dismounted to take the bridles off our horses, the daughters arrived, and perceiving we had new silk sashes and neckerchiefs and some fine jewels, they devoured us with their eyes, and one of them, speaking to her papa, that most hospitable gentleman invited us to enter his house. By that time we were once more upon our saddles and ready to start. Roche felt indignant at the meanness of the fellow who had received our severity-five cents for the water before he invited us into the house. We refused, and Roche told him that he was an old scoundrel to sell for money that which even a savage will never refuse to his most bitter enemy.
The rage of the honourable cannot be depicted: "My rifle!" he vociferated, "my rifle! for God's sake, Betsey--Juliet, run for my rifle!"
The judge then went into the house; but, as three pistols were drawn from our holsters, neither he nor his rifle made their appearance, so we turned our horses' heads and rode on leisurely to Austin.
In Austin we had a grand opportunity of seeing the Texans under their true colours. There were three hotels in the town, and every evening, after five o'clock, almost all of them, not excluding the president of the republic, the secretaries, judges, ministers, and members of Congress, were more or less tipsy, and in the quarrels which ensued hardly a night passed without four or five men being stabbed or shot, and the riot was continued during the major portion of the night, so that at nine o'clock in the morning everybody was still in bed. So buried in silence was the town, that one morning at eight o'clock, I killed a fine buck grazing quietly before the door of the Capitol. It is strange that this capital of Texas should have been erected upon the very northern boundary of the state. Indians have often entered it and taken scalps not ten steps from the Capitol.
While we were in Austin we made the acquaintance of old Castro, the chief of the Lepan Indians, an offset of the Comanche tribe. He is one of the best-bred gentlemen in the world, having received a liberal and military education, first in Mexico, and subsequently in Spain. He has travelled in France, Germany, England, and, in fact, all over Europe. He speaks and writes five or six languages, and so conscious is he of his superiority over the Texans, that he never addresses them but with contempt. He once said to them in the legislature-room of Matagorda--
"Never deceive yourselves, Texans. I fight with you against the Mexicans, because betwixt them and me there is an irreconcilable hatred. Do not then flatter yourselves that it is through friendship towards you. I can give my friendship only to those who are honourable both in peace and in war; you are all of you liars, and many of you thieves, scoundrels, and base murderers. Yes, dogs, I say true; yelp not, bark not, for you know you dare not bite, now that my two hundred warriors are surrounding this building: be silent, I say."
Castro was going in the same direction as ourselves to join his band, which was at that moment buffalo-hunting, a few journeys northward. He had promised his company and protection to two foreign gentlemen, who were desirous of beholding the huge tenant of the prairies. We all started together, and we enjoyed very much this addition to our company.
The first day we travelled over an old Spanish military road, crossing rich rolling prairies, here and there watered by clear streams, the banks of which are sheltered by magnificent oaks. Fifteen miles from Austin there is a remarkable spot, upon which a visionary speculator had a short time before attempted to found a city. He purchased an immense tract of ground, had beautiful plans drawn and painted, and very soon there appeared, upon paper, one of the largest and handsomest cities in the world. There were colleges and public squares, penitentiaries, banks, taverns, whisky-shops, and fine walks. I hardly need say, that this town-manufacturer was a Yankee, who intended to realize a million by selling town-lots. The city (in prospective) was called Athens, and the silly fellow had so much confidence in his own speculation, that he actually built upon the ground a very large and expensive house. One day, as he, with three or four negroes, were occupied in digging a well, he was attacked by a party of Yankee thieves, who thought he had a great deal of money. The poor devil ran away from his beloved city and returned no more. The house stands as it was left. I even saw near the well the spades and pickaxes with which they had been working at the time of the attack. Thus modern Athens was cut off in the bud, which was a great pity, as a few Athenian sages and legislators are sadly wanted in Texas.
Early one morning we were awakened by loud roars in the prairie. Castro started on his feet, and soon gave the welcome news, "The Buffaloes." On the plain were hundreds of dark moving spots, which increased in size as we came nearer; and before long we could clearly see the shaggy brutes galloping across the prairie, and extending their dark, compact phalanxes even to the line of the horizon. Then followed a scene of excitement The buffaloes, scared by the continual reports of our rifles, broke their ranks and scattered themselves in every direction.
The two foreigners were both British, the youngest being a young Irishman of a good family, and of the name of Fitzgerald. We had been quite captivated by his constant good humour and vivacity of spirits; he was the life of our little evening encampments, and, as he had travelled on the other side of the Pacific, we would remain till late at night listening to his interesting and beautiful narratives of his adventures in Asiatic countries.
He had at first joined the English legion in Spain, in which he had advanced to the rank of captain; he soon got tired of that service and went to Persia, where he entered into the Shah's employ as an officer of artillery. This after some time not suiting his fancy, he returned to England, and decided upon visiting Texas, and establishing himself as a merchant at San Antonio. But his taste for a wandering life would not allow him to remain quiet for any length of time, and having one day fallen in with an English naturalist, who had come out on purpose to visit the north-west prairies of Texas, he resolved to accompany him.
Always ready for any adventure, Fitz. rushed madly among the buffaloes. He was mounted upon a wild horse of the small breed, loaded with saddlebags, water calabashes, tin and coffee-cups, blankets, &c.; but these encumbrances did not stop him in the least. With his bridle fastened to the pommel of his saddle and a pistol in each hand, he shot to the right and left, stopping now and then to reload and then starting anew. During the hunt he lost his hat, his saddlebags, with linen and money, and his blankets: as he never took the trouble to pick them up, they are probably yet in the prairie where they were dropped.
The other stranger was an English savant, one of the queerest fellows in the world. He wished also to take his share in the buffalo-hunt, but his steed was a lazy and peaceable animal, a true nag for a fat abbot, having a horror of anything like trotting or galloping; and as he was not to be persuaded out of his slow walk, he and his master remained at a respectable distance from the scene of action. What an excellent caricature might have been made of that good-humoured savant, as he sat on his Rosinante, armed with an enormous doubled-barrelled gun, loaded but not primed, some time, to no purpose, spurring the self-willed animal, and then spying through an opera-glass at the majestic animals which he could not approach.
We killed nine bulls and seven fat calves, and in the evening we encamped near a little river, where we made an exquisite supper of marrow and tongue, two good things, which can only be enjoyed in the wild prairies. The next day, at sunset, we received a visit from an immense herd of mustangs (wild horses). We saw them at first ascending one of the swells of the prairie, and took them for hostile Indians; but having satisfied their curiosity, the whole herd wheeled round with as much regularity as a well-drilled squadron, and with their tails erect and long manes floating to the wind, were soon out of sight.
Many strange stories have been related by trappers and hunters, of a solitary white horse which has often been met with near the Cross Timbers and the Red River. No one ever saw him trotting or galloping; he only racks, but with such rapidity that no steed can follow him. Immense sums of money have been offered to any who could catch him, and many have attempted the task, but without success. The noble animal still runs free in his native prairies, always alone and unapproachable.
We often met with the mountain goat, an animal which participates both of the deer and the common goat, but whose flesh is far superior to either. It is gracefully shaped--long-legged and very fleet. One of them, whose fore-leg I had broken with a rifle-ball, escaped from our fleetest horse (Castro's), after a chase of nearly thirty minutes. The mountain goat is found on the great platforms of the Rocky Mountains, and also at the broad waters of the rivers Brasos and Colorado. Though of a very timid nature they are superlatively inquisitive, and can be easily attracted within rifle-range by agitating, from behind a tree, a white or red handkerchief.
We were also often visited, during the night, by rattlesnakes, who liked amazingly the heat and softness of our blankets. They were unwelcome customers, to be sure; but yet there were some others of which we were still more in dread: among them I may class, as the ugliest and most deadly, the prairie tarantula, a large spider, bigger than a good-sized chicken egg, hairy, like a bear, with small blood-shot eyes and little sharp teeth.
One evening, we encamped near a little spring, two miles from the Brasos. Finding no wood to burn near to us, Fitzgerald started to fetch some. As I have said, his was a small wild horse; he was imprudent enough to tie to its tail a young tree, which he had cut down. The pony, of course, got angry, and galloped furiously towards the camp, surrounded by a cloud of dust. At this sight, the other horses began to show signs of terror; but we were fortunate enough to secure them all before it was too late, or we should have lost them for ever.
It is astonishing to witness in the prairies how powerfully fear will act, not only upon the buffaloes and mustangs, but also upon tame horses and cattle. Oxen will run farther than horses, and some of them have been known, when under the influence of the estampede, or sudden fright, to run forty miles without ever stopping, and when at last they halted, it was merely because exhausted nature would not allow them to go further. The Texan expedition, on its way to Santa Fé, once lost ninety four horses by an estampede. I must say that nothing can exceed the grandeur of the sight, when a numerous body of cattle are under its influence. Old nags, broken by age and fatigue, who have been deserted on account of their weakness, appear as wild and fresh as young colts. As soon as they are seized with that inexplicable dread which forces them to fly, they appear to regain in a moment all the powers of their youth; with head and tail erect, and eyes glaring with fear, they rush madly on in a straight line; the earth trembles under their feet; nothing can stop them--trees, abysses, lakes, rivers, or mountains--they go over all, until nature can support it no more, and the earth is strewed with their bodies.
Even the otherwise imperturbable horse of our savant would sometimes have an estampede after his own fashion; lazy and self-willed, preferring a slow walk to any other kind of motion, this animal showed in all his actions that he knew how to take care of number one, always selecting his quarters where the water was cool and the grass tender. But he had a very bad quality for a prairie travelling nag, which was continually placing his master in some awkward dilemma. One day that we had stopped to refresh ourselves near a spring, we removed the bridles from our horses, to allow them to graze a few minutes, but the savant's cursed beast took precisely that opportunity of giving us a sample of his estampede. Our English friend had a way, quite peculiar to himself, of crowding upon his horse all his scientific and culinary instruments. He had suspended at the pommel of the saddle a thermometer, a rum calabash, and a coffee-boiler, while behind the saddle hung a store of pots and cups, frying-pan, a barometer, a sextant, and a long spy-glass. The nag was grazing, when one of the instruments fell down, at which the beast commenced kicking, to show his displeasure. The more he kicked, the greater was the rattling of the cups and pans; the brute was now quite terrified; we first secured our own steeds, and then watched the singular and ridiculous movements of this estampedero.
He would make ten leaps, and then stop to give as many kicks, then shake himself violently and start off full gallop. At every moment, some article, mathematical or culinary, would get loose, fall down, and be trampled upon. The sextant was kicked to pieces, the frying-pan and spy-glass were put out of shape, the thermometer lost its mercury, and at last, by dint of shaking, rolling, and kicking, the brute got rid of his entire load and saddle, and then came quietly to us, apparently very well satisfied with himself and with the damage he had done. It was a most ludicrous scene, and defies all power of description; so much did it amuse us, that we could not stop laughing for three or four hours.
The next day, we found many mineral springs, the waters of which were strongly impregnated with sulphur and iron. We also passed by the bodies of five white men, probably trappers, horribly mangled, and evidently murdered by some Texan robbers. Towards evening, we crossed a large fresh Indian trail, going in the direction of the river Brasos, and, following it, we soon came up with the tribe of Lepans, of which old Castro was the chief.
The Lepans were themselves going northwards, and for a few days we skirted, in company with them, the western borders of the Cross Timbers. The immense prairies of Texas are for hundreds and hundreds of miles bordered on the east by a belt of thick and almost impenetrable forests, called the Cross Timbers. Their breadth varies from seventy to one hundred miles. There the oak and hiccory grow tall and beautiful, but the general appearance of the country is poor, broken, and rugged. These forests abound with deer and bears, and sometimes the buffalo, when hotly pursued by the Indians in the prairies, will take refuge in its closest thickets. Most of the trees contain hives of bees full of a very delicate honey, the great luxury of the pioneers along these borders.
We now took our leave of the Lepans and our two white friends, who would fain have accompanied us to the Comanches had there been a chance of returning to civilization through a safe road; as it was, Gabriel, Roche, and I resumed our journey alone. During two or three days we followed the edge of the wood, every attempt to penetrate into the interior proving quite useless, so thick were the bushes and thorny briers. Twice or thrice we perceived on some hills, at a great distance, smoke and fires, but we could not tell what Indians might be there encamped.
We had left the Timbers, and had scarcely advanced ten miles in a westerly direction, when a dog of a most miserable appearance joined our company. He was soon followed by two others as lean and as weak as himself. They were evidently Indian dogs of the wolf breed, and miserable, starved animals they looked, with the ribs almost bare, while their tongues, parched and hanging downwards, showed clearly the want of water in these horrible regions. We had ourselves been twenty-four hours without having tasted any, and our horses were quite exhausted.
We were slowly descending the side of a swell in the prairie, when a buffalo passed at full speed, ten yards before us, closely pursued by a Tonquewa Indian (a ferocious tribe), mounted upon a small horse, whose graceful form excited our admiration. This savage was armed with a long lance, and covered with a cloak of deer-skin, richly ornamented, his long black hair undulating with the breeze.
A second Indian soon followed the first, and they were evidently so much excited with the chase as not to perceive us, although I addressed the last one, who passed not ten yards from me. The next day we met with a band of Wakoes Indians, another subdivision of the Comanches or of the Apaches, and not yet seen or even mentioned by any traveller. They were all mounted upon fine tall horses, evidently a short time before purchased at the Mexican settlements, for some of them had their shoes still on their feet. They immediately offered us food and water, and gave us fresh steeds, for our own were quite broken down, and could scarcely drag themselves along. We encamped with them that day on a beautiful spot, where our poor animals recovered a little. We bled them freely, an operation which probably saved them to share with us many more toils and dangers.
The next day we arrived at the Wakoe village, pleasantly-situated upon the banks of a cold and clear stream, which glided through a romantic valley, studded here and there with trees just sufficient to vary the landscape, without concealing its beauties. All around the village were vast fields of Indian corn and melons; further off numerous herds of cattle, sheep, and horses were grazing; while the women were busy drying buffalo meat. In this hospitable village we remained ten days, by which time we and our beasts had entirely recovered from our fatigues.
This tribe is certainly far superior in civilization and comforts to all other tribes of Indians, the Shoshones not excepted. The Wakoe wigwams are well built, forming long streets, admirable for their cleanness and regularity. They are made of long posts, neatly squared, firmly fixed into the ground, and covered over with tanned buffalo-hides, the roof being formed of white straw, plaited much finer than the common summer hats of Boston manufacture. These dwellings are of a conical form, thirty feet in height and fifteen in diameter. Above the partition-walls of the principal room are two rows of beds, neatly arranged, as on board of packet-ships. The whole of their establishment, in fact, proves that they not only live at ease, but also enjoy a high degree of comfort and luxury.
Attached to every wigwam is another dwelling of less dimensions, the lower part of which is used as a provision-store. Here is always to be found a great quantity of pumpkins, melons, dried peaches, grapes, and plums, cured vension, and buffalo tongues. Round the store is a kind of balcony, leading to a small room above it. What it contained I know not, though I suspect it is consecrated to the rites of the Wakoe religion. Kind and hospitable as they were, they refused three or four times to let us penetrate in this sanctum sanctorum, and of course we would not press them further.
The Wakoes, or, to say better, their villages, are unknown, except to a few trappers and hunters, who will never betray the kind hospitality they have received by showing the road to them. There quiet and happiness have reigned undisturbed for many centuries. The hunters and warriors themselves will often wander in the distant settlements of the Yankees and Mexicans to procure seeds, for they are very partial to gardening; they cultivate tobacco; in fact, they are, I believe, the only Indians who seriously occupy themselves with agriculture, which occupation does not prevent them from being a powerful and warlike people.
As well as the Apaches and the Comanches, the Wakoes are always on horseback; they are much taller and possess more bodily strength than either of these two nations, whom they also surpass in ingenuity. A few years ago, three hundred Texans, under the command of General Smith, met an equal party of the Wakoes hunting to the east of the Cross Timbers. As these last had many fine horses and an immense provision of hides and cured meat, the Texans thought that nothing could be more easy than routing the Indians and stealing their booty. They were, however, sadly mistaken; when they made their attack, they were almost all cut to pieces, and the unburied bones of two hundred and forty Texans remain blanching in the prairie, as a monument of their own rascality and the prowess of the Wakoes.
Comfortable and well treated as we were by that kind people, we could not remain longer with them; so we continued our toilsome and solitary journey. The first day was extremely damp and foggy; a pack of sneaking wolves were howling about, within a few yards of us, but the sun came out about eight o'clock, dispersing the fog and also the wolves.
We still continued our former course, and found an excellent road for fifteen miles, when we entered a singular tract of land, unlike anything we had ever before seen. North and south, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen but a sandy plain, covered with dwarf oaks two and three feet high, and bearing innumerable acorns of a large size. This desert, although our horses sank to the very knee in the sand, we were obliged to cross; night came on before the passage was effected, and we were quite tired with the fatigues of the day. We were, however, fortunate enough to find a cool and pure stream of running water, on the opposite side of which the prairie had been recently burnt, and the fresh grass was just springing up; here we encamped.
We started the next morning, and ascended a high ridge, we were in great spirits, little anticipating the horrible tragedy in which we should soon have to play our parts. The country before us was extremely rough and broken: we pushed on, however, buffeting, turning, and twisting about until nearly dark, crossing and recrossing deep gullies, our progress in one direction impeded by steep hills, and in another by, yawning ravines, until, finally, we encamped at night not fifteen miles from where we had started in the morning. During the day, we had found large plum patches, and had picked a great quantity of this fruit, which we found sweet and refreshing after our toil.
On the following morning, after winding about until noon among the hills, we at length reached a beautiful table-land, covered with musqueet trees. So suddenly did we leave behind us the rough and uneven tract of country and enter a level valley, and so instantaneous was the transition, that the change of scenery in a theatre was brought forcibly to our minds; it was turning from the bold and wild scenery of Salvator Rosa to dwell upon the smiling landscape of a Poussin or Claude Lorrain.
On starting in the morning, nothing was to be seen but a rough and rugged succession of hills before us, piled one upon another, each succeeding hill rising above its neighbour. At the summit of the highest of these hills, the beautiful and fertile plain came suddenly to view, and we were immediately upon it, without one of us anticipating anything of the kind. The country between the Cross Timbers and the Rocky Mountains rises by steps, if I may so call them. The traveller journeying west meets, every fifty or sixty miles, with a ridge of high hills; as he ascends these, he anticipates a corresponding descent upon the opposite side, but in most instances, on reaching this summit, he finds before him a level and fertile prairie. This is certainly the case south of the Red River, whatever it may be to the northward of it.
We halted an hour or two on reaching this beautiful table-land, to rest ourselves and give our horses an opportunity to graze. Little villages of prairie dogs were scattered here and there, and we killed half a dozen of them for our evening meal. The fat of these animals, I have forgotten to say, is asserted to be an infallible remedy for the rheumatism.
In the evening, we again started, and encamped, an hour after sun-down, upon the banks of a clear running stream. We had, during the last part of our journey, discovered the tops of three or four high mountains in the distance; we knew them to be "The Crows," by the description of them given to us by the Wakoes.
Early the next morning we were awakened by the warbling of innumerable singing birds, perched among the bushes along the borders of the stream. Pleasing as was the concert, we were obliged to leave it behind and pursue our weary march. Throughout the day we had an excellent road, and when night came we had travelled about thirty-five miles. The mountains, the summits of which we had perceived the evening before were now plainly visible, and answered to the descriptions of the Wakoes as those in the neighbourhood of the narrows of the Red River.
We now considered that we were near the end of our journey. That night we swallowed a very scanty supper, lay down to sleep, and dreamed of beaver-tail and buffalo-hump and tongues. The next day, at noon, we crossed the bed of a stream, which was evidently a large river during the rainy season. At that time but little water was found in it, and that so salt, it was impossible even for our horses to drink it.
Towards night, we came to the banks of a clear stream, the waters of which were bubbling along, over a bed of golden sand, running nearly north and south, while at a distance of some six miles, and to our left, was the chain of hills I had previously mentioned; rising above the rest were three peaks, which really deserved the name of mountains. We crossed the stream, and encamped on the other side. Scarcely had we unsaddled our horses, when we perceived coming towards us a large party of savages, whose war-paint, with the bleeding scalps hanging to their belts, plainly showed the errand from which they were returning. They encamped on the other side of the stream, within a quarter of a mile from us.
That night we passed watching, shivering, and fasting, for we dared not light a fire in the immediate vicinity of our neighbours, whom we could hear singing and rejoicing. The next morning, long before dawn, we stole away quietly, and trotted briskly till noon, when we encountered a deep and almost impassable ravine. There we were obliged to halt, and pass the remainder of the day endeavouring to discover a passage. This occupied us till nightfall, and we had nothing to eat but plums and berries. Melancholy were our thoughts when we reflected upon the difficulties we might shortly have to encounter, and gloomy were our forebodings as we wrapt ourselves in our blankets, half starved, and oppressed with feelings of uncertainty as to our present position and our future destinies.
The night passed without alarm; but the next morning we were sickened by a horrible scene which was passing about half a mile from us. A party of the same Indians whom we had seen the evening before were butchering some of their captives, while several others were busy cooking the flesh, and many were eating it. We were rooted to the spot by a thrill of horror we could not overcome; even our horses seemed to know by instinct that something horrible was acting below, for they snuffed the air, and with their ears pointed straight forward, trembled so as to satisfy us that for the present we could not avail ourselves of their services. Gabriel crept as near as he could to the party, leaving us to await his return in a terrible state of suspense and anxiety. When he rejoined us, it appeared our sight had not deceived us. There were nine more prisoners, who would probably undergo the same fate on the following day; four, he said, were Comanches, the other five Mexican females,--two young girls and three women.
The savages had undoubtedly made an inroad upon San Miguel or Taos, the two most northern settlements of the Mexicans, not far from the Green Mountains, where we were ourselves going. What could we do? We could not fight the cannibals, who were at least one hundred in number, and yet we could not go away, and leave men and women of our own colour to a horrible death, and a tomb in the stomach of these savages. The idea could not be borne, so we determined to remain and trust to chance or Providence. After their abominable meal, the savages scattered about the prairie in every direction, but not breaking up their camp, where they left their prisoners, under the charge of twelve of their young warriors.
Many plans did we propose for the rescue of the poor prisoners, but they were all too wild for execution; at last chance favoured us, although we did not entirely succeed in our enterprise. Three or four deer galloped across the prairie, and passed not fifty yards from the camp. A fine buck came in our direction, and two of the Indians who were left in charge started after him. They rushed in among us, and stood motionless with astonishment at finding neighbours they had not reckoned upon. We, however, gave them no time to recover from their surprise, our knives and tomahawks performed quickly and silently the work of death, and little remorse did we feel, after the scene we had witnessed in the morning. We would have killed, if possible, the whole band, as they slept, without any more compunction than we would have destroyed a nest of rattlesnakes.
The deer were followed by a small herd of buffaloes. We had quickly saddled and secured our horses to some shrubs, in case it should be necessary to rim for our lives, when we perceived the ten remaining Indians, having first examined and ascertained that their captives were well bound, start on foot in chase of the herd of buffaloes; indeed there were but about twenty horses in the whole band, and they had been ridden away by the others. Three of these Indians we killed without attracting the attention of the rest, and Gabriel, without being discerned, gained the deserted encampment, and severed the thongs which bound the prisoners.
The Mexican women refused to fly; they were afraid of being captured and tortured; they thought they would be spared, and taken to the wigwams of the savages, who, we then learned, belonged to the tribe of the Cayugas. They told us that thirteen Indian prisoners had already been eaten, but no white people. The Comanche prisoners armed themselves with the lances, bows, and arrows left in the camp, and in an hour after the passage of the buffaloes, but two of the twelve Indians were alive; these, giving the war-whoop to recall their party, at last discovered that their comrades had been killed.
At that moment the prairie became animated with buffaloes and hunters; the Cayugas on horseback were coming back, driving another herd before them. No time was to be lost if we wished to save our scalps; we gave one of our knives (so necessary an article in the wilderness) to the Comanches, who expressed what they felt in glowing terms, and we left them to their own cunning and knowledge of the localities, to make their escape. We had not overrated their abilities, for some few days afterwards we met them safe and sound in their own wigwams.
We galloped as fast as our horses could go for fifteen miles, along the ravine which had impeded our journey during the preceding day, when we fell in with a small creek. There we and our horses drank incredible quantities of water, and as our position was not yet very safe, we again resumed our march at a brisk trot. We travelled three or four more miles along the foot of a high ridge, and discovered what seemed to be an Indian trail, leading in a zigzag course up the side of it. This we followed, and soon found ourselves on the summit of the ridge. There we were again gratified at finding spread out before us a perfectly level prairie, extending as far as the eye could reach, without a tree to break the monotony of the scene.
We halted a few minutes to rest our horses, and for some time watched what was passing in the valley we had left, now lying a thousand feet below us. All we could perceive at the distance which we were, was that all was in motion, and we thought that our best plan was to leave as much space between us and the Cayugas as possible. We had but little time to converse with the liberated Comanches, yet we gained from them that we were in the right direction, and were not many days from our destination.
At the moment we were mounting our horses, all was quiet again in the valley below. It was a lovely panorama, and, viewing it from the point where we stood, we could hardly believe that, some hours previous, such a horrible tragedy had been there peformed. Softened down by the distance, there was a tranquillity about it which appeared as if it never had been broken. The deep brown skirting of bushes, on the sides of the different water-courses, broke and varied the otherwise vast extent of vivid green. The waters of the river, now reduced to a silver thread, were occasionally brought to view by some turn in the stream, and again lost to sight under the rich foliage on the banks.
We continued our journey, and towards evening we descried a large bear within a mile of us, and Roche started in chase. Having gained the other side of the animal, he drove it directly towards me. Cocking a pistol, I rode a short distance in front, to meet him, and while in the act of taking deliberate aim at the bear, then not more than eight yards from me, I was surprised to see him turn a somerset and commence kicking with his hind legs. Unseen by me, Gabriel had crept up close on the opposite side of my horse, and had noosed the animal with his lasso, just as I was pulling the trigger of my pistol; Bruin soon disengaged himself from the lasso, and made towards Roche, who brought him down with a single shot below the ear.
Gabriel and I then went on ahead, to select a place for passing the night, leaving our friend behind to cut up the meat; but we had not gone half a mile, when our progress was suddenly checked by a yawning abyss, or chasm, some two hundred yards across, and probably six hundred feet in depth. The banks, at this place, were nearly perpendicular, and from the sides projected sharp rocks, and, now and then, tall majestic cedars. We travelled a mile or more along the banks, but perceiving it was too late to find a passage across, we encamped in a little hollow under a cluster of cedars. There we were soon joined by Roche, and we were indebted to Bruin for an excellent repast.
The immense chasm before us ran nearly north and south, and we perceived that the current of the stream, or rather torrent, below us, ran towards the former point. The next morning, we determined to direct our steps to the northward, and we had gone but a few miles before large buffalo or Indian trails were seen running in a south-west direction, and as we travelled on, others were noticed bearing more to the west. Obliged to keep out some distance from the ravine, to avoid the small gullies emptying into it and the various elbows which it made, about noon we struck upon a large trail, running directly west; this we followed, and on reaching the main chasm, found that it led to the only place where there was any chance of crossing. Here, too, we found that innumerable trails joined, coming from every direction--proof conclusive that we must cross here or travel many weary miles out of our way.
Dismounting from our animals, we looked at the yawning abyss before us, and our first impression was, that the passage was impracticable. That buffaloes, mustangs, and, very probably, Indian horses, had crossed here, was evident enough, for a zigzag path had been worn down the rocky and precipitous sides; but our three horses were unused to sliding down or climbing precipices, and they drew back on being led to the brink of the chasm.
After many unsuccessful attempts, I at last persuaded my steed to take the path; the others followed. In some places they went along the very verge of rocky edges, where a false step would have precipitated them hundreds of feet down, to instant death; in others, they were compelled to slide down passes nearly perpendicular. Gabriel's horse was much bruised, but after an hour's severe toil, we gained the bottom, without sustaining any serious injury.
Here we remained a couple of hours, to rest our weary animals and find the trail leading up the opposite side. This we discovered, and, after great exertions, succeeded in clambering up to the top, where we again found ourselves upon a smooth and level prairie. On looking backs I shuddered to behold the frightful chasm we had so successfully passed, and thought it a miracle that we had got safely across; but a very short time afterwards, I was convinced that the feat we had just accomplished was a mere nothing.
After giving our animals another rest, we resumed our journey across the dreary prairie. Not a tree or bush could be seen in any direction. A green carpeting of short grass was spread over the vast scene, with naught else to relieve the sight.
People may talk of the solitude of forests as much as they please, but there is a company in trees which one misses upon the prairie. It is in the prairie, with its ocean-like waving of grass, like a vast sea without landmarks, that the traveller feels a sickly sensation of loneliness. There he feels as if not in the world, although not out of it; there he finds no sign or trace to tell him that there are, beyond or behind him, countries where millions of his own kindred are living and moving. It is in the prairie that man really feels that he is--alone.
We rode briskly along till sun-down, and encamped by the side of a small water-hole, formed by a hollow in the prairie. The mustangs, as well as the deer and antelopes, had left this part of the prairie, driven out, doubtless, by the scarcity of water. Had it not been for occasional showers, while travelling through this dreary waste, we should most inevitably have perished, for even the immense chasms had no water in them, except that temporarily supplied by the rains.
The morning broke bright and cloudless, the sun rising from the horizon in all his majesty. Having saddled our horses, we pursued our journey in a north-east direction; but we had scarcely proceeded six miles before we suddenly came upon an immense rent or chasm in the earth, far exceeding in depth the one we had so much difficulty in crossing the day before. We were not aware of its existence until we were immediately upon its brink, when a spectacle exceeding in grandeur anything we had previously witnessed burst upon our sight Not a tree or bush, no outline whatever, marked its position or course, and we were lost in amazement and wonder as we rode up and peered into the yawning abyss.
In depth it could not have been less than one thousand feet, in width from three to five hundred yards, and at the point where we first struck it, its sides were nearly perpendicular. A sickly sensation of dizziness was felt by all three of us, as we looked down, as it were, into the very bowels of the earth. Below, an occasional spot of green relieved the eye, and a stream of water, now visible, now concealed behind some huge rock, was bubbling and foaming along. Immense walls, columns, and, in some places, what appeared to be arches, filled the ravine, worn by the water undoubtedly, but so perfect in form, that we could with difficulty be brought to believe that the hand of men or genii had not been employed in raising them. The rains of centuries, failing upon the extended prairie, had here found a reservoir and vent, and their sapping and undermining of the different veins of earth and stone had formed these strange and fanciful shapes.
Before reaching the chasm, we had crossed numerous large trails leading a little more to the westward than we had been travelling, and we were at once convinced that they all centred in a common crossing close at hand. In this conjecture we were not disappointed; half-an-hour's trotting brought us into a large road, the thoroughfare for years of millions of Indians, buffaloes, and mustangs. Perilous as the descent appeared, we well knew there was no other near. My horse was again started ahead while the two others followed. Once in the narrow path, which led circuitously down the deep descent, there was no possibility of turning back, and our maddened animals finally reached the bottom in safety.
Several large stones were loosened from under our feet during this frightful descent. They would leap, dash, and thunder down the precipitous sides, and strike against the bottom far below us with a terrific crash.
We found a running stream at the bottom, and on the opposite side of it a romantic dell covered with short grass and a few scattered cotton-wood trees. A large body of Indians had encamped on this very spot but a few days previous; theblazedlimbs of the trees and other "signs" showing that they had made it a resting-place. We, too, halted a couple of hours to give our horses an opportunity to graze and rest themselves, The trail which led up to the prairie on the opposite side was discovered a short distance above us to the south.
As we journeyed along this chasm, we were struck with admiration at the strange and fanciful figures made by the washing of the waters during the rainy season. In some places, perfect walls, formed of a reddish clay, were to be seen standing; in any other locality it would have been impossible to believe but that they had been raised by the hand of man. The strata of which these walls were composed was regular in width, hard, and running perpendicularly; and where the softer sand which had surrounded them had been washed away, the strata still remained, standing in some places one hundred feet high, and three or four hundred in length.
Here and there were columns, and such was their architectural regularity, and so much of chaste grandeur was there about them, that we were lost in admiration and wonder. In other places the breastworks of forts would be plainly visible, then again the frowning turrets of some castle of the olden time. Cumbrous pillars, apparently ruins of some mighty pile, formerly raised to religion or royalty, were scattered about; regularity and perfect design were strangely mixed up with ruin and disorder, and nature had done it all. Niagara has been considered one of her wildest freaks; but Niagara falls into insignificance when compared with the wild grandeur of this awful chasm. Imagination carried me back to Thebes, to Palmyra, and the Edomite Paetra, and I could not help imagining that I was wandering among their ruins.
Our passage out of this chasm was effected with the greatest difficulty. We were obliged to carry our rifles and saddle-bags in our hands, and, in clambering up a steep precipice, Roche's horse, striking his shoulder against a projecting rock, was precipitated some fifteen or twenty feet, falling upon his back. We thought he must be killed by the fall; but, singular enough, he rose immediately, shook himself, and a second effort in climbing proved more successful. The animal had not received the slightest apparent injury.
Before evening we were safely over, having spent five or six hours in passing this chasm. Once more we found ourselves upon the level of the prairie, and after proceeding some hundred yards, on looking back, not a sign of the immense fissure was visible. The waste we were then travelling over was at least two hundred and fifty miles in width, and the two chasms I have mentioned were the reservoirs, and at the same time the channels of escape for the heavy rains which fall upon it during the wet season.
This prairie is undoubtedly one of the largest in the world, and the chasm is in perfect keeping with the size of the prairie. At sundown we came upon a water-hole, and encamped for the night By this time we were entirely out of provisions, and our sufferings commenced.
The next day we resumed our journey, now severely feeling the cravings of hunger. During our journey we saw small herds of deer and antelopes, doubtless enticed to the water courses by the recent rains, and towards night we descried a drove of mustangs upon a swell of the prairie half a mile ahead of us. They were all extremely shy, and although we discharged our rifles at them, not a shot was successful. In the evening we encamped near a water-hole, overspreading an area of some twenty acres, but very shallow. Large flocks of Spanish curlews, one of the best-flavoured birds that fly, were hovering about, and lighting on it on all sides. Had I been in possession of a double-barrelled gun, with small shot, we could have had at least one good meal; but as I had but a heavy rifle and my bow and arrows, we were obliged to go to sleep supperless.
About two o'clock the next morning we saddled and resumed our travel, journeying by the stars, still in a north-east direction. On leaving the Wakoes, we thought that we could be not more than one hundred miles from the Comanche encampment. We had now ridden much more than that distance, and were still on the immense prairie. To relieve ourselves from the horrible suspense we were in--to push forward, with the hope of procuring some provisions--to get somewhere, in short, was now our object, and we pressed onward, with the hope of finding relief.
Our horses had, as yet, suffered less than ourselves, for the grazing in the prairie had been good; but our now hurried march, and the difficult crossing of the immense chasms, began to tell upon them. At sunrise we halted near a small pond of water, to rest the animals and allow them an hour to feed.
While stretched upon the ground, we perceived a large antelope slowly approaching--now stopping, now walking a few steps nearer, evidently inquisitive as to who, or rather what, we might be. His curiosity cost him his life: with a well-directed shot, Gabriel brought him down, and none but a starved man could appreciate our delight. We cooked the best part of the animal, made a plentiful dinner, and resumed our journey.
For three days more, the same dreary spectacle of a boundless prairie was still before us. Not a sign was visible that we were bearing its edge. We journeyed rapidly on till near the middle of the afternoon of the third day, when we noticed a dark spot a mile and a half ahead of us. At first we thought it to be a low bush, but as we gradually neared it, it had more the appearance of a rock, although nothing of the kind had been seen from the time we first came on the prairie, with the exception of those at the chasms.
"A buffalo" cried Roche, whose keen eye at last penetrated the mystery: "a buffalo, lying down and asleep." Here, then, was another chance for making a good meal, and we felt our courage invigorated. Gabriel went ahead on foot, with his rifle, in the hope that he should at least get near enough to wound the animal, while Roche and I made every preparation for the chase. Disencumbering our horses of every pound of superfluous weight, we started for the sport, rendered doubly exciting by the memory of our recent suffering from starvation.
For a mile beyond where the buffalo lay, the prairie rose gradually, and we knew nothing of the nature of the ground beyond. Gabriel crept till within a hundred and fifty yards of the animal, whichnowbegan to move and show signs of uneasiness. Gabriel gave him a shot: evidently hit, he rose from the ground, whisked his long tail, and looked for a moment inquiringly about him. I still kept my position a few hundred yards from Gabriel, who reloaded his piece. Another shot followed: the buffalo again lashed his sides, and then started off at a rapid gallop, directly towards the sun, evidently wounded, but not seriously hurt.
Roche and I started In pursuit, keeping close together, until we had nearly reached the top of the distant rise in the prairie. Here my horse, being of a superior mettle, passed that of Roche, and, on reaching the summit, I found the buffalo still galloping rapidly, at a quarter of a mile's distance. The descent of the prairie was very gradual, and I could plainly see every object within five miles. I now applied the spurs to my horse, who dashed madly down the declivity. Giving one look behind, I saw that Roche, or at least his horse, had entirely given up the chase. The prairie was comparatively smooth, and although I dared not to spur my horse to his full speed, I was soon alongside of the huge animal. It was a bull of the largest size, and his bright, glaring eyeballs, peering out from his shaggy frontlet of hair, showed plainly that he was maddened by his wounds and the hot pursuit.
It was with the greatest difficulty, so fierce did the buffalo look, that I could get my horse within twenty yards of him, and when I fired one of my pistols at that distance, my ball did not take effect. As the chase progressed, my horse came to his work more kindly, and soon appeared to take a great interest in the exciting race. I let him fall back a little, and then, by dashing the spurs deep into his sides, brought him up directly alongside, and within three or four yards of the infuriated beast.
I fired my other pistol, and the buffalo shrank as the ball struck just behind the long hair on his shoulders. I was under such headway when I fired, that I was obliged to pass the animal, cutting across close to his head, and then again dropping behind. At that moment I lost my rifle, and I had nothing left but my bow and arrows; but by this time I had become so much excited by the chase, that I could not think of giving it up. Still at full speed, I strung my bow, once more put my spurs to my horse, he flew by the buffalo's right side, and I buried my arrow deep into his ribs.
The animal was now frothing and foaming with rage and pain. His eyes were like two deep red balls of fire, his tongue was out and curling upwards, his long tufted tail curled on high, or lashing madly against his sides. A more wild, and at the same time a more magnificent picture of desperation I had never witnessed.
By this time my horse was completely subjected to my guidance. He no longer pricked his ears with fear, or sheered off as I approached the monster, but, on the contrary, ran directly up, so that I could almost touch the animal while bending my bow. I had five or six more arrows left, but I resolved not to shoot again unless I were certain of touching a vital part, and succeeded at last in hitting him deep betwixt the shoulder and the ribs.
This wound caused the maddened beast to spring backwards, and I dashed past him as he vainly endeavoured to gore and overthrow my horse. The chase was now over, the buffalo stopped and soon rolled on the ground perfectly helpless. I had just finished him with two other arrows, when, for the first time, I perceived that I was no longer alone. Thirty or forty well-mounted Indians were quietly looking at me in an approving manner, as if congratulating me on my success. They were the Comanches we had been so long seeking for. I made myself known to them, and claimed the hospitality which a year before had been offered to me by their chief, "the white raven." They all surrounded me and welcomed me in the most kind manner. Three of them started to fetch my rifle and to join my companions, who were some eight or nine miles eastward, while I followed my new friends to their encampment, which was but a few miles distant. They had been buffalo hunting, and had just reached the top of the swell when they perceived me and my victim. Of course, I and my two friends were well received in the wigwam, though the chief was absent upon an expedition, and when he returned a few days after, a great feast was given, during which some of the young men sang a little impromptu poem, on the subject of my recent chase.
The Comanches are a noble and most powerful nation. They have hundreds of villages, between which they are wandering all the year round. They are well armed, and always move in bodies of some hundreds, and even thousands; all active and skilful horsemen, living principally by the chase, and feeding occasionally, during their distant excursions, upon the flesh of the mustang, which, after all, is a delightful food, especially when fat and young. A great council of the whole tribe is held once a year, besides which there are quarterly assemblies, where all important matters are discussed. They have long been hostile to the Mexicans, but are less so now; their hatred having been concentrated upon the Yankees and Texans whom they consider as brigands. They do not apply themselves to the culture of the ground as the Wakoes, yet they own innumerable herds of horses, cattle, and sheep, which graze in the northern prairies, and they are indubitably one of the wealthiest people in the world. They have a great profusion of gold, which they obtain from the neighbourhood of the San Seba hills, and work it themselves into bracelets, armlets, diadems, as well as bits for their horses, and ornaments to their saddles. Like all the Shoshones' tribe, they are most elegant horsemen, and by dint of caresses and good treatment render the animals so familiar and attached to them, that I have often seen some of them following their masters like dogs, licking their hands and shoulders. The Comanche young women are exquisitely clean, good-looking, and but slightly bronzed; indeed the Spaniards of Andalusia and the Calabrians are darker than they are. Their voice is soft, their motions dignified and graceful: their eyes dark and flashing, when excited, but otherwise mild, with a soft tinge of melancholy. The only fault to be found in them is that they are inclined to be too stout, arising from their not taking exercise.
The Comanches, like all the tribes of the Shoshone breed, are generous and liberal to excess. You can take what you please from the wigwam--horses, skins, rich furs, gold, anything, in fact, except their arms and their females, whom they love fondly. Yet they are not jealous; they are too conscious of their own superiority to fear anything, and besides, they respect too much the weaker sex to harbour any injurious suspicion.
It is a very remarkable fact, that all the tribes who claim any affinity with the Shoshones, the Apaches, the Comanches, and the Pawnies Loups, have always rejected with scorn any kind of spirits when offered to them by the traders. They say that "Shoba-wapo" (the fire-water) is the greatest enemy of the Indian race, and that the Yankees, too cowardly to fight the Indians as men, have invented this terrible poison to destroy them without danger.
"We hated once the Spaniards and the Watchinangoes (Mexicans)," they say, "but they were honourable men compared with the thieves of Texas. The few among the Spanish race who would fight, did so as warriors; and they had laws among them which punished with death those who would give or sell this poison to the Indians."
The consequence of this abstinence from spirits is, that these Western nations improve and increase rapidly; while, on the contrary, the Eastern tribes, in close contact with the Yankees, gradually disappear. The Sioux, the Osage, the Winnebego, and other Eastern tribes, are very cruel in disposition; they show no mercy, and consider every means fair, however treacherous, to conquer an enemy. Not so with the Indians to the west of the Rocky Mountains. They have a spirit of chivalry, which prevents them taking any injurious advantage.
As I have before observed, an Indian will never fire his rifle upon an enemy who is armed only with his lance, bow, and arrows; or if he does, and kills him, he will not take his scalp, as it would constantly recall to his mind that he had killed a defenceless foe. Private encounters with their enemies, the Navahoes and Arrapahoes, are conducted as tournaments in the days of yore. Two Indians will run full speed against each other with their well-poised lance; on their shield, with equal skill, they will receive the blow; then, turning round, they will salute each other as a mark of esteem from one brave foe to another.
Such incidents happen daily, but they will not be believed by the Europeans, who have the vanity of considering themselves alone as possessing "le sentiment du chevalresque et du beau;" besides, they are accustomed to read so many horrible accounts of massacres committed by the savages, that the idea of a red skin is always associated in their mind with the picture of burning stakes and slow torture. It is a mistake, and a sad one; would to God that our highly civilized nations of Europe had to answer for no more cruelties than those perpetrated by the numerous gallant tribes of Western America.
I was present one day when a military party came from Fort Bent, on the head of the Arkansa, to offer presents and make proposals of peace to the Comanche council. The commander made a long speech, after which he offered I don't know how many hundred gallons of whisky. One of the ancient chiefs had not patience to hear any more, and he rose full of indignation. His name was Auku-wonze-zee, that is to say, "he who is superlatively old."
"Silence," he said; "speak no more, double-tongued Oposh-ton-ehoc (Yankee). Why comest thou, false-hearted, to pour thy deceitful words into the ears of my young men? You tell us you come for peace, and you offered to us poison. Silence, Oposh-ton-ehoc, let me hear thee no more, for I am an old man; and now that I have one foot in the happy grounds of immortality, it pains me to think that I leave my people so near a nation of liars. An errand of peace! Does the snake offer peace to the squirrel when he kills him with the poison of his dreaded glance? does an Indian say to the beaver, he comes to offer peace when he sets his traps for him? No! a pale-faced Oposh-ton-ehoc? or a 'Kish emok comho-anac' (the beast that gets drunk and lies, the Texan), can alone thus he to nature--but not a red-skin, nor even a girlish Wachinangoe, nor a proud 'Shakanah' (Englishman), nor a 'Mahamate kosh ehoj' (open-heart, open-handed Frenchman).
"Be silent, then, man with the tongue of a snake, the heart of a deer, and the ill-will of a scorpion; be silent, for I and mine despise thee and thine. Yet, fear not; thou mayest depart in peace, for a Comanche is too noble not to respect a white flag, even when carried by a wolf or a fox. Till sunset eat, but alone; smoke, but not in our calumets; repose in two or three lodges, for we can burn them after pollution; and then depart, and say to thy people, that the Comanche, having but one tongue and one nature, can neither speak with nor understand an Oposh-ton-ehoc.
"Take back thy presents; my young men will have none of them, for they can accept nothing except from a friend; and if thou look'st at their feet, thou shalt see their mocassins, their leggings, even their bridles, are braided with the hair of thy people, perhaps of thy brothers. Take thy 'Shoba-wapo' (fire-water), and give it to drink to thy warriors, that we may see them raving and tumbling like swine. Silence, and away with thee. Our squaws will follow ye on your trail for a mile, to burn even the grass ye have trampled upon near our village. Away with you all, now and for ever! I have said!!!"
The American force was numerous and well armed, and a moment, a single moment, deeply wounded by these bitter taunts, they looked as if they would fight and die to resent the insult; but it was only a transient feeling; for they had their orders, and they went away, scorned and humiliated. Perhaps, too, an inward voice whispered to them that they deserved their shame and humiliation; perhaps the contrast of their conduct with that of the savages awakened in them some better feeling, which had a long time remained dormant, and they were now disgusted with themselves and their odious policy.
As it was, they departed in silence, and the last of their line had vanished under the horizon before the Indians could smother the indignation and resentment which the strangers had excited within their hearts. Days, however, passed away, and with them the recollection of the event. Afterwards, I chanced to meet, in the Arkansas, with the Colonel who commanded. He was giving a very strange version of his expedition; and as I heard facts so distorted, I could not help repeating to myself the words of Auku-wonze-zee, "The Oposh-ton-ehoc is a double-tongued liar!"