Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Hunting -- United States; West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
After sufficiently proving that they had anything but lost the use of
their tongues, but possessed, on the contrary, as fair a length of that
formidable weapon as any of their sex, they withdrew, and left the field
in undisputed possession of the men; who, accompanied by tap of drum,
and by the noise of many rattles, broke out into a war-song, in which
their own valor was by no means hidden in a bushel, or modestly refused
the light of day. After this came the more interesting ceremony of
a warrior "counting his coups." A young brave, with his face painted
black, mounted on a white horse mysteriously marked with red clay, and
naked to the breech-clout, holding in his hand a long taper lance, rode
into the circle, and paced slowly round it; then, flourishing his spear
on high, he darted to the scalp-pole, round which the warriors were
now seated in a semicircle; and in a loud voice, and with furious
gesticulations, related his exploits, the drums tapping at the
conclusion of each. On his spear hung seven scalps, and holding it
vertically above his head, and commencing with the top one, he told the
feats in which he had raised the trophy hair. When he had run through
these the drums tapped loudly, and several of the old chiefs shook their
rattles, in corroboration of the truth of his achievements. The brave,
swelling with pride, then pointed to the fresh and bloody scalps hanging
on the pole. Two of these had been torn from the heads of Rapahos struck
by his own hand, and this feat, _the_ exploit of the day, had entitled
him to the honor of counting his coups. Then, sticking his spear into
the ground by the side of the pole, he struck his hand twice on his
brawny and naked chest, turned short round, and, swift as the antelope,
galloped into the plain, as if overcome by the shock his modesty had
received in being obliged to recount his own high-sounding deeds.
"Wagh!" exclaimed old Killbuck, as he left the circle, pointing his
pipe-stem towards the fast-fading figure of the brave, "that Injun's
heart's about as big as ever it will be, I'm thinking."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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