Indian sketches, taken during an expedition to the Pawnee and other tribes of American Indians (Vol. 1 of 2)Irving, John Treat
History
Indian sketches, taken during an expedition to the Pawnee and other tribes of American Indians (Vol. 1 of 2)
Irving, John Treat
Indians of North America -- Kansas; Indians of North America -- Nebraska; Pawnee Indians
I had formed but a poor opinion of the race from those whom I had
already seen; but never was I more agreeably disappointed—never had I
beheld such a princely fellow. He stood unmoved as we came up, viewing
us with a calm, cold, but unwavering gaze. His eyelid never drooped;
nor was the eye averted for an instant as it met our look. A large
blanket, here and there streaked with vermilion, and ornamented with
hawks’ bells, was so disposed around his folded arms, that it left bare
his finely-formed shoulder, and half of his high and sinewy chest. A
bright, steel-headed tomahawk peeped from beneath its folds, and a
quiver of arrows hung at his back. His legs were cased in leggings
of dressed deerskin, with the edges cut into a rough fringe. He wore
a pair of mocassins of dressed buffalo hide. The top of his head was
closely shaven, and covered with vermilion; but his face was free from
any colouring whatever, with the exception of a ring of black paint,
which was carefully drawn around each eye.
As we approached he drew himself up, and threw his head slightly
backward with an air of haughtiness which well became his high stern
features. He seemed to feel like a proud but desolate being. Upon his
head was bound an eagle’s plume, but it was crushed and broken. Could
it be emblematic of the broken spirit of his own tribe? Their power
was gone; their strength was withered; they were scattered to the four
winds of heaven; the bones of their bravest warriors were whitening the
prairies, and their chief was in bondage in an unknown land.[D]
[D] At this time, Black Hawk was in the Eastern States.
And this savage—he seemed to feel that he was alone; but his stern
features told that he asked no pity, and would brook no insult.
For some time he stood in front of us, returning gaze for gaze, and for
a moment a smile played over his features; then drawing up his tinkling
blanket, he wrapped it closely around him, and walked off. We lost
sight of him behind one of the buildings, as he directed his course
towards the forest.
We turned away towards our quarters; but the roll of the dinner drum
sounded across the green; and, changing our course, we obeyed its
summons.
CHAP. VI.
THE KANZAS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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