CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
The morning broke bright and cloudless, the sun rising from the horizonin all his majesty. Having saddled our horses, we pursued our journeyin a north-east direction; but we had scarcely proceeded six milesbefore we suddenly came upon an immense rent or chasm in the earth, farexceeding in depth the one we had so much difficulty in crossing the daybefore. We were not aware of its existence until we were immediatelyupon its brink, when a spectacle exceeding in grandeur any thing we hadpreviously witnessed burst upon our sight. Not a tree or bush, nooutline whatever, marked its position or course, and we were lost inamazement 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 widthfrom three to five hundred yards, and at the point where we first struckit, its sides were nearly perpendicular. A sickly sensation ofdizziness 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 greenrelieved the eye, and a stream of water, now visible, now concealedbehind some huge rock, was bubbling and foaming along. Immense walls,columns, and, in some places, what appeared to be arches, filled theravine, worn by the water undoubtedly, but so perfect in form, that wecould with difficulty be brought to believe that the hand of men orgenii had not been employed in raising them. The rains of centuries, afalling upon the extended prairie, had here found a reservoir and vent,and their sapping and undermining of the different veins of earth andstone had formed these strange and fanciful shapes.
Before reaching the chasm, we had crossed numerous large trails leadinga little more to the westward than we had been travelling, and we wereat once convinced that they all centred in a common crossing close athand. In this conjecture we were not disappointed, half-an-hour'strotting brought us into a large road, the thoroughfare for years ofmillions of Indians, buffaloes and mustangs. Perilous as the descentappeared, we well knew there was no other near. My horse was againstarted ahead while the two others followed. Once in the narrow path,which led circuitously down the deep descent, there was no possibilityof turning back, and our maddened animals finally reached the bottom insafety.
Several large stones were loosened from under our feet during thisfrightful descent. They would leap, dash, and thunder down theprecipitous sides, and strike against the bottom far below us with aterrific crash.
We found a running stream at the bottom, and on the opposite side of ita romantic dell covered with short grass and a few scattered cotton-woodtrees. A large body of Indians had encamped on this very spot but a fewdays previous; the _blazed_ limbs of the trees and other "signs" shewingthat they had made it a resting-place. We, too, halted a couple ofhours to give our horses an opportunity to graze and rest themselves.The trail which led up to the prairie on the opposite side wasdiscovered a short distance above us to the south.
As we journeyed along this chasm, we were struck with admiration at thestrange and fanciful figures made by the washing of the waters duringthe rainy season. In some places, perfect walls, formed of a reddishclay, were to be seen standing; in any other locality it would have beenimpossible 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 hadsurrounded them had been washed away, the strata still remained,standing in some places one hundred feet high, and three or four hundredin length.
Here and there were columns, and such was their architecturalregularity, and so much of chaste grandeur was there about them, that wewere lost in admiration and wonder. In other places the breastworks offorts would be plainly visible, then again the frowning turrets of somecastle of the olden time. Cumbrous pillars, apparently ruins of somemighty pile, formerly raised to religion or royalty, were scatteredabout; regularity and perfect design were strangely mixed up with ruinand disorder, and nature had done it all. Niagara has been consideredone of her wildest freaks; but Niagara falls into insignificance whencompared with the wild grandeur of this awful chasm. Imaginationcarried me back to Thebes, to Palmyra, and the Edomite Paetra, and Icould 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 shoulderagainst 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 effortin climbing proved more successful. The animal had not received theslightest apparent injury.
Before evening we were safely over, having spent five or six hours inpassing this chasm. Once more we found ourselves upon the level of theprairie, and after proceeding some hundred yards, on looking back, not asign of the immense fissure was visible. The waste we were thentravelling over was at least two hundred and fifty miles in width, andthe two chasms I have mentioned were the reservoirs, and at the sametime the channels of escape for the heavy rains which fall upon itduring the wet season.
This prairie is undoubtedly one of the largest in the world, and thechasm is in perfect keeping with the size of the prairie. At sun-downwe came upon a water-hole, and encamped for the night. By this time wewere entirely out of provisions, and our sufferings commenced.
The next day we resumed our journey, now severely feeling the cravingsof hunger. During our journey we saw small herds of deer and antelopes,doubtless enticed to the water-courses by the recent rains, and towardsnight we descried a drove of mustangs upon a swell of the prairie half amile ahead of us. They were all extremely shy, and although wedischarged our rifles at them, not a shot was successful. In theevening we encamped near a water-hole, overspreading an area of sometwenty acres, but very shallow. Large flocks of Spanish curlews, one ofthe best-flavoured birds that fly, were hovering about, and lighting onit 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 hadbut a heavy rifle and my bow and arrows, we were obliged to go to sleepsupperless.
About two o'clock the next morning we saddled and resumed our travel,journeying by the stars, still in a north-east direction. On leavingthe Wakoes, we thought that we could be not more than one hundred milesfrom the Comanche encampment. We had now ridden much more than thatdistance, and were still on the immense prairie. To relieve ourselvesfrom the horrible suspense we were in--to push forward, with the hope ofprocuring some provisions--to get somewhere, in short, was now ourobject, and we pressed onward, with the hope of finding relief.
Our horses had, as yet, suffered less than ourselves, for the grazing inthe prairie had been good but our now hurried march, and the difficultcrossing of the immense chasms, began to tell upon them. At sunrise wehalted near a small pond of water, to rest the animals and allow them anhour to feed.
While stretched upon the ground, we perceived a large antelope slowlyapproaching--now stopping, now walking a few steps nearer, evidentlyinquisitive as to who, or rather what, we might be. His curiosity costhim his life: with a well-directed shot, Gabriel brought him down, andnone but a starved man could appreciate our delight. We cooked the bestpart of the animal, made a plentiful dinner, and resumed our journey.
For three days more, the same dreary spectacle of a boundless prairiewas still before us. Not a sign was visible that we were nearing itsedge. We journeyed rapidly on till near the middle of the afternoon ofthe third day, when we noticed a dark spot a mile and a half ahead ofus. At first we thought it to be a low bush, but as we gradually nearedit, it had more the appearance of a rock, although nothing of the kindhad been seen from the time we first came on the prairie, with theexception 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 formaking a good meal, and we felt our
courage invigorated. Gabriel wentahead on foot, with his rifle, in the hope that he should at least getnear enough to wound the animal, while Roche and I made everypreparation for the chase. Disencumbering our horses of every pound ofsuperfluous weight, we started for the sport, rendered doubly excitingby the memory of our recent suffering from starvation.
For a mile beyond where the buffalo lay, the prairie rose gradually, andwe knew nothing of the nature of the ground beyond. Gabriel crept tillwithin a hundred and fifty yards of the animal, which now began to moveand show signs of uneasiness. Gabriel gave him a shot: evidently hit,he rose from the ground, whisked his long tail, and looked for a momentinquiringly about him. I still kept my position a few hundred yardsfrom Gabriel, who reloaded his piece. Another shot followed: thebuffalo 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 hadnearly reached the top of the distant rise in the prairie. Here myhorse, being of a superior mettle, passed that of Roche, and, onreaching the summit, I found the buffalo still galloping rapidly, at aquarter of a mile's distance. The descent of the prairie was verygradual, and I could plainly see every object within five miles. I nowapplied the spurs to my horse, who dashed madly down the declivity.Giving one look behind, I saw that Roche, or at least his horse, hadentirely given up the chase. The prairie was comparatively smooth, andalthough I dared not to spur my horse to his full speed, I was soonalongside of the huge animal. It was a bull of the largest size, andhis bright, glaring eyeballs, peering out from his shaggy frontlet ofhair, shewed plainly that he was maddened by his wounds and the hotpursuit.
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 firedone of my pistols at that distance, my ball did not take effect. As thechase progressed, my horse came to his work more kindly, and soonappeared to take a great interest in the exciting race I let him fallback a little, and then, by dashing the spurs deep into his sides,brought him up directly alongside, and within three or four yards of theinfuriated beast.
I fired my other pistol, and the buffalo shrank as the ball struck justbehind the long hair on his shoulders. I was under such headway when Ifired, that I was obliged to pass the animal, cutting across close tohis head, and then again dropping behind. At that moment I lost myrifle, and I had nothing left but my bow and arrows; but by this time Ihad become so much excited by the chase, that I could not think ofgiving it up. Still at full speed, I strung my bow, once more put myspurs to my horse, he flew by the buffalo's right ride, and I buried myarrow deep into his ribs.
The animal was now frothing and foaming with rage and pain. His eyeswere like two deep red balls of fire, his tongue was out and curlingupwards, his long tufted tail curled on high, or lashing madly againsthis sides. A more wild, and at the same time a more magnificent pictureof desperation I had never witnessed.
By this time my horse was completely subjected to my guidance. He nolonger pricked his ears with fear, or sheered off as I approached themonster, but, on the contrary, ran directly up, that I could almosttouch the animal while bending my bow. I had five or six more arrowsleft, but I resolved not to shoot again unless I were certain oftouching a vital part, and succeeded at last in hitting him deep betwixtthe shoulder and the ribs.
This wound caused the maddened beast to spring backwards, and I dashedpast him as he vainly endeavoured to gore and overthrow my horse. Thechase was now over, the buffalo stopped and soon rolled on the groundperfectly 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 anapproving manner, as if congratulating me on my success. They were theComanches 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 meby their chief, "the white raven." They all surrounded me and welcomedme in the most kind manner. Three of them started to fetch my rifle andto join my companions, who were some eight or nine miles eastward, whileI followed my new friends to their encampment, which was but a few milesdistant. They had been buffalo hunting, and had just reached the top ofthe swell when they perceived me and my victim. Of course, I and my twofriends were well received in the wigwam, though the chief was absentupon an expedition, and when he returned a few days after, a great feastwas given, during which some of the young men sang a little impromptupoem, on the subject of my recent chase.
The Comanches are a noble and most powerful nation. They have hundredsof villages, between which they are wandering all the year round. Theyare well armed, and always move in bodies of some hundreds, and eventhousands all active and skilful horsemen, living principally by thechase, and feeding occasionally during their distant excursions, uponthe flesh of the mustang, which, after all, is a delightful food,especially when fat and young. A great council of the whole tribe isheld once a year, besides which there are quarterly assemblies, whereall important matters are discussed. They have long been hostile to theMexicans, but are less so now; their hatred having been concentratedupon the Yankees and Texians, whom they consider as brigands. They donot apply themselves to the culture of the ground as the Wakoes, yetthey own innumerable herds of horses, cattle, and sheep, which graze inthe northern prairies, and they are indubitably one of the wealthiestpeople in the world. They have a great profusion of gold, which theyobtain from the neighbourhood of the San Seba hills, and work itthemselves into bracelets, armlets, diadems, as well as bits for theirhorses, and ornaments to their saddles. Like all the Shoshones' tribe,they are most elegant horsemen, and by dint of caresses and goodtreatment, render the animals so familiar and attached to them, that Ihave often seen some of them following their masters like dogs, lickingtheir hands and shoulders. The Comanche young women are exquisitelyclean, good-looking, and but slightly bronzed; indeed the Spaniards ofAndalusia and the Calabrians are darker than they are. Their voice issoft, their motions dignified and graceful; their eyes dark andflashing, when excited, but otherwise mild, with a soft tinge ofmelancholy. The only fault to be found in them is that they areinclined to be too stout, arising from their not taking exercise.
The Comanches, like all the tribes of the Shoshone breed, are generousand liberal to excess. You can take what you please from the wigwam--horses, skins, rich furs, gold, anything, in fact, except their arms andtheir females, whom they love fondly. Yet they are not jealous; theyare too conscious of their own superiority to fear anything, andbesides, they respect too much the weaker sex to harbour any injurioussuspicion. It is a very remarkable fact, that all the tribes who claimany affinity with the Shoshones, the Apaches, the Comanches, and thePawnies Loups, have always rejected with scorn any kind of spirits whenoffered to them by the traders. They say that "Shoba-wapo" (thefire-water) is the greatest enemy of the Indian race, and that theYankees, too cowardly to fight the Indians as men, have invented thisterrible poison to destroy them without danger.
"We hated once the Spaniards and the Watchinangoes (Mexicans)," theysay, "but they were honourable men compared with the thieves of Texas.The few among the Spanish race who would fight, did so as warriors; andthey had laws among them which punished with death those who would giveor sell this poison to the Indians."
The consequence of this abstinence from spirits is, that these Westernnations improve and increase rapidly; while, on the contrary, theEastern tribes, in close contact with the Yankees, gradually disappear.The Sioux, the Osage, the Winnebego, and other Eastern tribes, are verycruel in disposition; they show no mercy, and consider every means fair,however treacherous, to conquer an enemy. Not so with the Indians tothe west of the Rocky Mountains. They have a spirit of chivalry, whichprevents them taking any injurious advantage.
As I have before observed, an Indian will never fire his rifle upon anenemy 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 recallto his mind that he had killed a defenceless foe. Private encounterswith their enemies, the Navahoes and Arrapahoes, are conducted astournaments in the days of yore. Two Indians will run full speedagainst each other with their well-poised lance; on their shield, withequal skill, they will receive the blow; then, turning round, they willsalute each other as a mark of esteem from one brave foe to another.
Such incidents happen daily, but they will not be believed by theEuropeans, who have the vanity of considering themselves alone aspossessing "le sentiment du chevalresque et du beau:" besides, they areaccustomed to read so many horrible accounts of massacres committed bythe savages, that the idea of a red skin is always associated in theirmind with the picture of burning stakes and slow torture. It is amistake, and a sad one; would to God that our highly civilised nationsof Europe had to answer for no more cruelties than those perpetuated bythe numerous gallant tribes of western America.
I was present one day when a military party came from Fort Bent, on thehead of the Arkansa, to offer presents and make proposals of peace tothe Comanche council. The commander made a long speech, after which heoffered I don't know how many hundred gallons of whisky. One of theancient chiefs had not patience to hear any more, and he rose full ofindignation. His name was Auku-wonze-zee, that is to say, "he who issuperlatively old."
"Silence," he said; "speak no more, double-tongued. Oposh-ton-ehoe(Yankee). Why comest thou, false-hearted, to pour thy deceitful wordsinto the ears of my young men? You tell us you come for peace, and youoffered to us poison. Silence. Oposh-ton-ehoe, let me hear thee nomore, for I am an old man; and now that I have one foot in the happygrounds of immortality, it pains me to think that I leave my people sonear a nation of liars. An errand of peace! Does the snake offer peaceto 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 setshis traps for him? No! a pale-faced `Oposh-ton-ehoe', or a `_Kish emokcomho-anac_' (the beast that gets drunk and lies, the Texian), can alonethus lie to nature--but not a red-skin, nor even a girlish Wachinangoe,nor a proud `_Skakanah_' (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 theeand thine. Yet fear not, thou mayest depart in peace, for a Comanche istoo noble not to respect a white flag, even when carried by a wolf or afox. Till sun-set eat, but alone; smoke, but not in our calumets;repose in two or three lodges, for we can burn them after pollution, andthen depart, and say to thy people, that the Comanche, having but onetongue and one nature, can neither speak with nor understand anOposh-ton-ehoe.
"Take back thy presents; my young men will have none of them, for theycan accept nothing except from a friend--and if thou look'st at theirfeet, thou shalt see their mocassins, their leggings, even their bridlesare braided with the hair of thy people, perhaps of thy brothers. Takethy `Shoba-wapo' (fire-water), and give it to drink to thy warriors,that we may see them raving and tumbling like swine. Silence, and awaywith thee; our squaws will follow ye on your trail for a mile, to burneven the grass ye have trampled upon near our village. Away with youall, now and for ever! I have said!!!"
The American force was numerous and well armed, and a moment, a singlemoment, deeply wounded by these bitter taunts, they looked as if theywould fight and die to resent the insult; but it was only a transientfeeling, for they had their orders and they went away, scorned andhumiliated. Perhaps, too, an inward voice whispered to them that theydeserved their shame and humiliation; perhaps the contrast of theirconduct with that of the savages awakened in them some better feeling,which had a long time remained dormant, and they were now disgusted withthemselves and their odious policy.
As it was, they departed in silence, and the last of their line hadvanished under the horizon before the Indians could smother theindignation and resentment which the strangers had excited within theirhearts. Days, however, passed away, and with them the recollection ofthe event. Afterwards, I chanced to meet, in the Arkansas, with theColonel who commanded; he was giving a very strange version of hisexpedition, and as I heard facts so distorted, I could not helprepeating to myself the words of Auku-wonze-zee, "The Oposh-ton-ehoe isa double-tongued liar!"