Wild Life in the Far West: Being the Personal Adventures of a Border Mountain Man. Captain James Hobbs
introduc- ing us to "Old Wolf," the head chief.
"Old Wolf" was a large and very tall Indian, with a Roman nose, high forehead, and hair falling down to his hips, braided in plaits, and ornamented with rings an inch wide, put on at intervals. These rings were ornaments peculiar to him, as no other member of the tribe ever wore them. When he wished to make an unusually rich toilet, he wore on his breast a large, highly polished, copper plate, which glistened in the sunlight and of which he was very proud.
Batiste had a bottle of brandy hanging on the horn of his saddle and with a view to conciliate the old chief, I suggested to John to give him a dram. He was suspicious and would not drink. I drank some and he looked me steadily in the eye. I then handed the bottle to him but still he doubted. Batiste took a horn cup and pouring out some so the chief could see what he drank, poured down a good "swig." The chief looked at him steadily fifteen minutes, then tak- ing the bottle drank down its contents, like water, to the last drop. He was, immediately, the happiest In- dian I ever saw.
We had traveled forty or fifty miles that day, close- watched and guarded by our captors, but without any fear of bodily injury, as the Indians acted quite friendly. The chief of their tribe, "Old Wolf" al- ways staid at home, moving only at such times as the tribe traveled bodily, to attend the annual feasts with friendly tribes, or to follow the buffaloes as they mi- grated north or south, for he was an old man.
He had a son called chief and another called second chief. Both were married to white girls, captives, named Brown, who were captured in Texas, near San
26 FATE OF MEXICAN PRISONERS.
Antonio. They were sisters and in the same Indian village were their two brothers, captured at the same time, one named Henry, about twelve years of age, and little Jim, hardly seven years old. They had been taken about four years before, when their father, moth- er and two elder brothers were murdered. The girls were now about eighteen and twenty -one years of age. I made many attempts to talk with them but was al- ways frustrated by savage watchfulness. The little boy could only say Yes or No in English, though he could speak good Indian, as could his brother and sis- ters. I was also forbidden any conversation with the boys, but I learned they had lived near Fort Alamo, the scene of Davy Crockett' s death.
A council was held, soon after our arrival, to decide on the disposition of John and myself; but it was nec- essarily adjourned till the next morning, because "Old Wolf" had drank too much of our brandy and talked himself to sleep in the midst of the council, and was not competent to hear the report of our captors. As the result of the deliberations, next day, the captive, Henry, was instructed to inform us that if we were not Texans and would be good and not run away, they would not kill us but let us stay with them. They, however, pointed to some dried scalps and informed us that about three weeks before, three Mexicans, captured by them and set to mind their stock, had attempted to escape. They were pursued with the intention of bring- ing them back, but it was finally decided, after having a long chase, to bring only their scalps, and they should feel compelled to do the same by us under similar cir- cumstances. These remarks were made with such grave earnestness that we decided our best course was to keep quiet and stay with the Indians, for it would
COMANCHES. 27
be madness for such boys as we were, with no knowl- edge of the country, to attempt to reach Fort Bent or to return to Missouri.
John was particularly faithful. I went out with the Indians, and hunted, and learned to catch trout with their bone fish-hooks. But John never stirred from camp, for he was afraid of mistakes; he might be going from camp with the best intention to return, and lose his scalp, as the Mexicans did.
Our hosts did not like John very well, though they regarded me very favorably. The Comanches are the most powerful of all the tribes of North American Indians. Their dress differs but little from that of the Shawnees, a description of which has already been given,—the men wearing a buckskin hunting-shirt reaching to the waist, buckskin pants so made as to require a breech-cloth, as the pants do not cover the small of the back, and moccasins. The women wear a buckskin petticoat and dress, reaching to the knee, pants like the men, and buckskin moccasins. The dress is usually fringed and the moccasins ornamented. The more favored often add a handsome blanket to their costume. The Comanches are superior to all other tribes in horsemanship, and a very large portion of their lives is spent on horseback. They have a remarkable fondness for horses, and, as might be im- agined, are the most accomplished horse-stealers in the world, often making daring raids, the replenishing of their stock being the principal object, as will be seen in the following pages.
At the end of three months, they were making up a war-party to go against the Pawnees, and requested Batiste and me to go and help them fight. He de- clined, but I accepted the invitation. My Hawkins
28 SAD REFLECTIONS.
rifle was returned to me, and we started, going over the same route we had come to their camp. We even passed the very spot where I had been captured, and also where I killed the buffalo. I saw tracks of shoe clad feet showing that our white friends of the train had searched for us, and must have seen from the Indian foot-prints, that a party had either captured or killed us, and so, giving up the search, had gone on their way. This I afterward ascertained to be the case, and that I was returning in the right direction when captured by the Indian hunters.
My reflections, when passing these familiar spots, were anything but pleasing. Snatched so suddenly from the companionship of friendly white men, who had begun to look upon me, though a mere youth, as an important and valuable assistant in their fur business, I realized that I had lost a good opportunity to become a wealthy fur-dealer and trapper. They were men who did a heavy business, and I had hoped to prove serviceable to them, and obtain an interest in the profits. Now my hopes were blasted. My friends would consider me dead or a captive, and no effort would be made to find me by my relatives or any one else. How far these disappointments, or how much this ill-luck has influenced my after course or made me the roving adventurer that I have been, I leave the reader to judge.
Our force moved onward rapidly to the Big Arkansas river, just a little below "The Caches," where we sur- prised about two hundred Pawnees, who were camped in a wild-plum thicket. They feared the Comanches, and undertook to escape by swimming the river. I had an old grudge against the Pawnees for their attack on our fur-train previously ; and, nerved with a desire
"SPOTTED FAWN." 29
to show our Comanche braves that I was interested somewhat, and wanted a hand in, I drew a bead on a Pawnee who was out in the middle of the stream, and, with a yell, he went to the bottom. The Coman- ches rushed into the river, secured the body, took off the scalp, and returned to their village, as the river was high, and they did not choose to ford it at the risk of their lives. Several of the Pawnees were drowned in the attempt to escape across the river; but the only trophy secured in the way of a scalp came from the head of the Pawnee who happened to be in range of my rifle.
Upon our arrival back in camp, "Old Wolf" helped me off the horse himself, hugged me, and said I had a big heart, but John had a little heart, because he would not go and fight. A procession was formed, and the Indian who had the Pawnee scalp led off, while I was second, the chiefs following, with the warriors in the rear; after which there was a big dance and pow-wow. "Old Wolf" brought out his daughter, a really beautiful Indian girl about my own age, with whom I had become slightly acquainted, and offered her to me for a wife! Of course I consented ; what else could I do?—and the wedding was arranged to take place instanter. The old priest, whose age was over a hundred by the moons he had notched on his cane, united us in the bonds of matrimony at once. He repeated the marriage ceremony, which was unin- telligible to me, and, placing on my finger a ring made of buffalo horn, and a similar ring on her fore-finger, bade us change rings. And thus "Spotted Fawn" became my wife, and proved loving and affectionate; and I have no doubt she remains faithful to me to this day, though I have not seen her for years. All