Wild Life in the Far West: Being the Personal Adventures of a Border Mountain Man. Captain James Hobbs
having never asked for a wife; for he well knew that none of the squaws would look with favor upon him, as he was such a coward.
As we expected, we met on the Big Arkansas about twenty thousand Arapahoes and Cheyennes, these two tribes being very friendly and mixing together. To me it was a lively scene, as I gazed on forty thousand people assembled in one grand mass meeting, with their tents and animals spread out over an area several miles in extent. We took a large quantity of pro- visions with us, killing some game on the way, and sent out daily hunting-parties, to provide food during the feast.
The favorite dish of the Arapahoes and Cheyennes was dog, gelded and fattened, which they cooked in
BALL PLAYING. 41
covered pits in the earth, the bottoms of which were covered with burning coals and red-hot stones. The Comanches do not eat dog at home, but with these two friendly tribes, at their feasts, they partake. I never tried the flavor of the animal.
Upon our arrival, "Old Wolf" introduced me to the Arapahoe chief, telling him I was his son-in-law; said I was a brave fellow, reciting the killing of the Pawnee and the trip to Mexico; and then, pointing to John, said he had a little heart and never stirred out of camp. Kit Carson and I have since had many a laugh at John Batiste about his little heart; for we three had many an adventure after that on the plains together.
The feast continued ten or fifteen days, and was enlivened by running horse-races, foot-races, and by playing ball. In these races and games, the Coman- ches bet horses against the Arapahoes and Cheyennes, a ad almost always win, so that, by the time the great feast is over, those two tribes are afoot! But "Old Wolf" always gave them back a number of horses to go home with, and the different tribes went each their way in good humor and the best of spirits. The game of ball was played with crooked sticks, and is very much like our "shinney." The players are dressed with a simple breech-cloth and moccasins, and the game is always played with enthusiasm, and affords much amusement. They choose sides, and put up stakes on the result of these ball-games, as well as on the foot-races. As a spectator among these igno- rant savages, I was highly amused and interested by these harmless festivities.
The eighth day of the feast, I saw a white man coming toward our chief's tent, in company with a
42 KIT CARSON.
number of Cheyennes. "John," said I to Batiste, ''they are bringing in a white man." They came to "Old Wolf," and the stranger, seeing me, opened a conversation, which I translated to the chief. The new-comer said his name was Kit Carson. He was mounted on an Indian pony, and was a man of slight build, small in stature, with long flowing hair, light complexion, with a piercing grayish eye, inclined to blue; and altogether his appearance was such that I took a natural liking to him. Afterward, in my long acquaintance of twelve years with him, I noticed that other men, even the Indians, were favorably inclined to Kit at first sight. I found, also, that he was a superior shot with his rifle and a remarkable rider, being familiar with many feats of horsemanship learned only among the Indians. Either he or I could with ease pick up a silver dollar from the ground, when going at full speed, mounted on the swiftest pony. We often, in idle hours, amused ourselves by one shooting apples held by the other on a sharp stick two or three inches in length.
Carson said he was an old friend of the Cheyenne chief, and wanted to be friendly with the Comanches. He was a member of a trading company that were encamped not far from Bent's Fort, and he said he had beads, trinkets, and all sorts of merchandise for sale. "Old Wolf" was evidently suspicious and disposed to be hostile. He did not like to have me converse with Carson; but I got a chance to tell him privately, in the course of the two or three hours that he stopped in our camp, that he might say to the people at the fort, that John and I who were lost at u The Caches," were captives there among the Indians. He said he had heard about our being
BATTLES WITH PAWNEES AND SIOUX. 43
missed from a trappers' train, and that we were con- sidered as dead or captives among some Indians. To see us alive and well once more, was a very agreeable surprise. Kit soon left our camp, and returned to his trapping company, from seventy -live to one hundred miles from us, up the Big Arkansas. Before he left, he stated that "Peg-leg" Smith, a noted trapper, so called from his having a wooden leg, and Shawnee Spiebuck, one of the party I left home with, were in his party, and he had left them back in camp, to come here and see his old friend, the Cheyenne chief, and, if possible, to trade for furs.
At the end of the feast, the three chiefs—Comanche, Arapahoe, and Cheyenne—held a council, in which they laid plans for the ensuing year, marking out routes for hunting and war parties, so they should not come in collision with each other, and arranged for the next feast, to be given on Comanche grounds to the Arapahoes and Cheyennes. Then our whole party started down the Big Arkansas.
At the mouth of Ash creek, two hundred miles from the place of our late feast, we encountered a war-party of Pawnees, scalped twenty-three, and took all their horses. Thence, going up to the head of Ash creek, we encamped, sending out war-parties occasionally. After we had been in camp here about a month, we had a battle with the Sioux Indians, and here the Comanches were again victors. There were about four hundred engaged on each side, and we lost twenty-one of our warriors, but took about eighty scalps, while some of their dead were carried off the field.
After burying our dead, we spent about two months dancing over the Sioux scalps and doctoring our wounded. After they were well enough to move,
44 ESCAPE OF MARTIN.
we went with a large war-party, one hundred and fifty miles, to the foot of the Rocky mountains, where we had an encounter with the Crow Indians, but suffered small loss ourselves. We remained in that vicinity about a month, when we started for our old home, traveling slowly, and killing meat on our way, reach- ing home in November.
After laying up sufficient provision for the winter, a war-party of five hundred was organized to make a raid into Mexico. "Old Wolf" asked me to go; but I excused myself, and urged Martin, our young cap- tive, to join the expedition. He consented, and they gave him a horse and gun, when he departed with the warriors, after smoking the medicine-pipe all around. I had some suspicion that he would find some way to escape. On the return of the warriors, two months afterward, they reported that, at Cerro Gordo, some five or six hundred miles distant, they were in the midst of a fight with Mexican troops, into which Martin had rushed with the rest, when suddenly they missed him, and afterward found his horse among their own. They supposed him to be killed; but such was not the fact, for, within a few years, I have seen him in Los Angeles county, California, where he is keeping a hotel. In that fight, our Co- manches fought the Mexicans about even, but whipped them, and brought home a lot of horses, brood mares, guns, ammunition, and several Mexican prisoners.
We spent the remainder of the winter in the usual sports and in hunting, and in June the Arapahoes and Cheyennes came over to our village, on Little Red river, to hold the annual feast, according to agreement. At this feast there was a show of scalps taken during the year, and our tribe had the most, our chief showing
BENT'S FORT. 45
over a hundred; while the other two tribes could only show about half that number. This feast and grand carnival lasted twenty days.
At the usual chiefs' council, at the expiration of the feast, the Cheyenne chief advised "Old Wolf" to go to Bent's Fort and trade with the white people. He had done so, and liked them; showed some presents he had received; said they were good people,—not like the Texans, but like me, and were of the same party as myself. "Old Wolf" agreed to go and have a talk with Bent the next year, when he should come around to feast with the Cheyennes; for the camp of the Cheyennes was not more than a day's travel from the fort. At this feast the Cheyennes complained of bad luck and a scarcity of horses, and "Old Wolf" made them a present of three hundred head, saying he knew where to find plenty more.
During the ensuing year, we made some important raids into Mexico, and had a number of fights, travel- ing a large circuit with the entire tribe, sometimes with