Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Hunting -- United States; West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
Shawh-noh-qua-mish, "The Peeled Lodge-pole," is there to excuse his
Arapaho braves, who lately made free with a band of horses belonging
to the fort. He promises the like shall never happen again, and he,
Shawh-noh-qua-mish, speaks with a "single tongue." Over clouds of
tobacco and kinnik-kinnik these grave affairs are settled and terms
arranged.
In the corral, groups of leather-clad mountaineers, with decks of euchre
and seven up, gamble away their hard-earned peltries. The employes--
mostly St. Louis Frenchmen and Canadian voyageurs--are pressing packs
of buffalo-skins, beating robes, or engaged in other duties of a
trading-fort. Indian squaws, the wives of mountaineers, strut about in
all the pride of beads and "fofar-raw," jingling with bells and bugles,
and happy as paint can make them. Hunters drop in with animals packed
with deer or buffalo meat to supply the fort; Indian dogs look anxiously
in at the gateway, fearing to enter and encounter their natural enemies,
the whites; and outside the fort, at any hour of the day or night, one
may safely wager to see a dozen cayeutes or prairie wolves loping round,
or seated on their haunches, and looking gravely, on, waiting patiently
for some chance offal to be cast outside. Against the walls, groups of
Indians too proud to enter without an invitation, lean, wrapped in their
buffalo-robes, sulky and evidently ill at ease to be so near the whites
without a chance of fingering their scalp-locks; their white lodges
shining in the sun, at a little distance from the riverbanks--their
horses feeding in the plain beyond.
The appearance of the fort is very striking, standing as it does
hundreds of miles from any settlement, on the vast and lifeless prairie,
surrounded by hordes of hostile Indians, and far out of reach of
intercourse with civilized man; its mud-built walls inclosing a little
garrison of a dozen hardy men, sufficient to hold in check the numerous
tribes of savages ever thirsting for their blood. Yet the solitary
stranger passing this lone fort feels proudly secure when he comes
within sight of the Stars and Stripes which float above the walls.
CHAPTER VIII
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account