Indian sketches, taken during an expedition to the Pawnee tribes (Vol. 2 of 2)Irving, John Treat
History
Indian sketches, taken during an expedition to the Pawnee tribes (Vol. 2 of 2)
Irving, John Treat
Indians of North America -- Kansas; Indians of North America -- Nebraska; Pawnee Indians
to return over the ground which I had just passed.
I remember well the spot where I paused to settle my purpose. It was
a high swell, which commanded a view over miles of prairie, and even
overlooked the top of the lofty trees in the thicket. It was strewed with
bones. For several hundred yards, the whole hill was literally covered
with them. It looked like some deserted charnel; and I recollect even
in the midst of my perplexity, taking up one and examining it—wondering
whether it belonged to man or beast. The place might have been the scene
of a battle; for the bones were so small that they could scarcely be
those of animals. There were no skulls, either of man or brutes, to solve
the mystery; and even the bones were covered with a greenish mould, from
many years’ exposure.
After some consideration, I resolved to retrace my steps, and accordingly
turned down the hill, and once more proceeded on my journey. I now was
growing hungry, and for once felt the miseries of a keen appetite. In
the midst of these cogitations, I caught sight of the head of a racoon,
who was reconnoitering me from behind the stump of a tree; I shot him,
and skinned him; and kindling a fire, cooked part of him on the spot.
The cinders from my fire, caught in a small patch of dry grass, which
had escaped the general burning of the prairie; and in a moment it was
in a blaze—filling the air with a cloud of black smoke. When I finished
my meal, I slung the residue of my prize upon my back, and struck out
into the prairie. I had scarcely done so before I caught sight of an
Indian, standing upon the top of a ridge at some distance. In a moment
after he perceived me, and waved his blanket over his head, to attract my
attention. I raised the Otoe hunting-whoop, and his shout, faint, from
the distance, answered me. I then started for the hill, and the Indian,
seating himself, waited till I came up. He was one of the Otoes who
accompanied us. His Indian name I do not recollect; but when translated
it signified, “_the man that drags his heels_.” It was given him on
account of a shuffling gait, which it was said that he possessed, but
which I could never discover.
We started together, and about a mile beyond the arm of timber where I
had turned back in the morning, we came upon the trail of the party.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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