When we entered the great council lodge, the great chief, Wetara Sharoj, received us with great urbanity, assigned to us places next to him, and gave the signal for the Pawnee elders to enter the lodge. I was very much astonished to see among them some white men, dressed in splendid military uniforms; but the ceremonies having begun, and it being the Indian custom to assume indifference, whatever your feelings may be, I remained where I was. Just at the moment that the pipe-bearer was lighting the calumet of peace, the venerable Pawnee chief advanced to the middle of the lodge, and addressed the Comanches:—

"My sight is old, for I have seen a hundred winters, and yet I can recognise those who once were friends. I see among you Opishka Koaki (the White Raven), and the leader of a great people; Pemeh-Katey (the Long Carbine), and the wise Hah-nee (the Old Beaver). You are friends, and we should offer you at once the calumet of peace, but you have come as foes; as long as you think you have cause to remain so, it would be mean and unworthy of the Pawnees to sue and beg for what perchance they may obtain by their courage. Yet the Comanches and the Pawnees have been friends too long a time to fall upon each other as a starved wolf does upon a wounded buffalo. A strong cause must excite them to fight against each other, and then, when it comes, it must be a war of extermination, for when a man breaks with an old friend, he becomes more bitter in his vengeance than against an utter stranger. Let me hear what the brave Comanches have to complain of, and any reparation, consistent with the dignity of a Pawnee chief, shall be made, sooner than risk a war between brothers who have so long hunted together and fought together against a common enemy. I have said."

Opishka Koaki ordered me to light the Comanche calumet of peace, and advancing to the place left vacant by the ancient chief, he answered:—

"I have heard words of great wisdom; a Comanche always loves and respects wisdom; I love and respect my father, Wetara Sharoj; I will tell him what are the complaints of our warriors, but before, as we have come as foes, it is but just that we should be the first to offer the pipe of peace; take it, chief, for we must be friends; I will tell our wrongs, and leave it to the justice of the great Pawnee to efface them, and repair the loss his young men have caused to a nation of friends."

The pipe was accepted, and the "talk" went on. It appeared that a party of one hundred Pawnee hunters had had their horses estampeded one night, by some hostile Indians. For five days they forced their way on foot, till entering the northern territory of the Comanches, they met with a drove of horses and cattle. They would never have touched them, had it not been that, a short time afterwards, they met with another very numerous party of their inveterate enemies—the Kiowas, by whom they were pressed so very hard, that they were obliged to return to the place where the Comanche herds of horse were grazing, and to take them, to escape their foes. So far, all was right; it was nothing more than what the Comanches would have done themselves in the land of the Pawnees; but what had angered the Comanche warriors was, that the hundred horses thus borrowed in necessity, had never been returned, although the party had arrived at the village two moons ago.

When the Pawnees heard that we had no other causes for complaint, they shewed, by their expressions of friendship, that the ties of long brotherhood were not to be so easily broken; and indeed the Pawnees had, some time before, sent ten of their men with one hundred of their finest horses, to compensate for those which they had taken and rather ill-treated, in their hurried escape from the Kiowas. But they had taken a different road from that by which we had come, and consequently we had missed them. Of course, the council broke up, and the Indians, who had remained on the other side of the river, were invited in the village to partake of the Pawnee hospitality.

Gabriel and I soon accosted the strangely-dressed foreigners. In fact, we were seeking each other, and I learned that they had been a long time among the Pawnees, and would have passed over to the Comanches, in order to confer with me on certain political matters, had it not been that they were aware of the great antipathy the chiefs of that tribe entertained against the inhabitants of the United States.

The facts were as follows:—These people were emissaries of the Mormons, a new sect which had sprung up in the States, and which was rapidly increasing in numbers. This sect had been created by a certain Joseph Smith. Round the standard of this bold and ambitious leader, swarms of people crowded from every part, and had settled upon a vast extent of ground on the eastern shores of the Mississippi, and there established a civil, religious, and military power, as anomalous as it was dangerous to the United States. In order to accomplish his ulterior views, this modern apostle wished to establish relations of peace and friendship with all the Indians in the great western territories, I had for that purpose sent messengers among the various tribes east of the Rocky Mountains. Having also learned, by the St. Louis trappers, that strangers, long established among the Shoshones of the Pacific Ocean, were now residing among the Comanches, Smith had ordered his emissaries among the Pawnees to endeavour to meet us, and concert together as to what measures could be taken so as to secure a general league, defensive and offensive, against the Americans and the Texians, and which was to extend from the Mississippi to the western seas.

Such a proposition of course could not be immediately answered. I therefore obtained leave from the Comanches to stake the two strangers with us, and we all returned together. It would be useless to relate to the reader that which passed between me and the emissaries of the Mormons; let it suffice to say, that after a residence of three weeks in the village, they were conducted back to the Pawnees. With the advice of Gabriel, I determined to go myself and confer with the principal Mormon leaders; resolving in my own mind that if our interview was not satisfactory, I would continue on to Europe, and endeavour either to engage a company of merchants to enter into direct communication with the Shoshones, or to obtain the support of the English government, in furtherance of the objects I had in view for the advantage of the tribe.

As a large portion of the Comanches were making preparations for their annual migration to the east of Texas, Roche, Gabriel, and I joined this party, and having exchanged an affectionate farewell with the remainder of the tribe, and received many valuable presents, we started, taking the direction of the Saline Lake, which forms the head-waters of the southern branch or fork of the river Brasos. There we met again with our old friends, the Wakoes, and learned that there was a party of sixty or seventy Yankees or Texians roaming about the upper forks of the Trinity, committing all sorts of depredations, and painting their bodies like the Indians, that their enormities might be laid to the account of the savages. This may appear strange to the reader, but it has been a common practice for some time. There have always been in the United States a numerous body of individuals, who, having by their crimes been compelled to quit the settlements of the east, have sought shelter out of the reach of civilisation. These individuals are all desperate characters, and, uniting themselves in small bands, come fearlessly among the savages, taking squaws, and living among them till a sufficient period has elapsed to enable them to venture, under an assumed name and in a distant state, to return with impunity and enjoy the wealth acquired by plunder and assassination.

This is the history of the major portion of the western pioneers, whose courage and virtues have been so much celebrated by American writers. As they increased in numbers, these pioneers conceived a plan by which they acquired great wealth. They united together, forming a society of land privateers or buccaneers, and made incursions into the very heart of the French and Spanish settlements of the west, where, not being expected, they surprised the people and carried off great booty. When, however, these Spanish and French possessions were incorporated into the United States, they altered their system of plunder; and, under the name of Border's Buggles, they infested the states of the Mississippi and Tennessee, where they obtained such a dreaded reputation that the government sent out many expeditions against them, which, however, were useless, as all the principal magistrates of these states had contrived even themselves to be elected members of the fraternity. The increase of population broke up this system, and the "Buggles" were compelled to resort to other measures. Well acquainted with Indian manners, they would dress and paint themselves as savages, and attack the caravans to Mexico. The traders, in their reports, would attribute the deed to some tribe of Indians, probably, at the moment of the attack, some five or six hundred miles distant from the spot.

This land pirating is now, carried to a greater extent than ever. Bands of fifty or sixty pioneers steal horses, cattle, and slaves from the west of Arkansas and Louisiana; and sell them in Texas, where they have their agents; and then, under the disguise of Indian warriors, they attack plantations in Texas, carrying away with them large herds of horses and cattle, which they drive to Missouri, through the lonely mountain passes of the Arkansas, or to the Attalapas and Opelousas districts of Western Louisiana, forcing their way through the Lakes and swamps on both shores of the river Sabine. The party mentioned by the Wakoes was one of this last description.

We left our friends, and, after a journey of three days, we crossed the Brasos, close to a rich copper mine, which has ages been worked by the Indians, who used, as they do now, thin metal for the points of their arrows and lances. Another three days' journey brought us to one of the forks of Trinity, and there we met with two companies of Texian rangers and spies, under the command of a certain Captain Hunt, who had been sent from the lower part of the river to protect the northern plantations. With him I found five gentlemen, who, tired of residing in Texas, had taken the opportunity of this military escort to return to the Arkansas. As soon as they heard that I was going there myself, they offered to join me, which I agreed to, as it was now arranged that Gabriel and Roche should not accompany me farther than to the Red River. [See note 1.]

The next morning I received a visit from Hunt and two or three inferior officers, to advise upon the following subject. An agricultural company from Kentucky had obtained from the Texian government a grant of lands on the upper forks of the Trinity. There twenty-five or thirty families had settled, and they had with them numerous cattle, horses, mules, and donkeys a very superior breed. On the very evening I met with the Texian rangers, the settlement had been visited by a party of ruffians, who stole every thing, murdering sixty or seventy men, women, and children, and firing all the cottages and log-houses of this rising and prosperous village. All the corpses were shockingly mangled and scalped, and as the assailants were painted in the Indian fashion, the few inhabitants who had escaped and gained the Texian camp declared that the marauders were Comanches.

This I denied stoutly, as did the Comanche party, and we all proceeded with the Texian force to Lewisburg, the site of the massacre. As soon as I viewed the bodies, lying here and there, I at once was positive that the deed had been committed by white men. The Comanche chief could scarcely restrain his indignation; he rode close to Captain Hunt and sternly said to him:—

"Stoop, Pale-face of a Texian, and look with thy eyes open; be honest if thou canst, and confess that thou knowest by thine own experience that this deed is that of white men. What Comanche ever scalped women and children. Stoop, I say, and behold a shame on thy colour and race—a race of wolves, preying upon each other; a race of jaguars, killing the female after having forced her—stoop and see.

"The bodies of the young women have been atrociously and cowardly abused—seest thou? Thou well knowest the Indian is too noble and too proud to level himself to the rank of a Texian or of a brute."

Twenty of our Comanches started on the tracks, and in the evening brought three prisoners to the camp. They were desperate blackguards, well known to every one of the soldiers under Captain Hunt, who in spite of their Indian disguise, identified them immediately. Hunt refused to punish them, or make any further pursuit, under the plea that he had received orders to act against Indian depredators, but not against white men.

"If such is the case," interrupted the Comanche chief; "retire immediately with thy men, even to-night, or the breeze of evening will repeat thy words to my young men, who would give a lesson of justice to the Texians. Away with thee, if thou valuest thy scalp; justice shall be done by Indians; it is time they should take it into their own hands, when Pale-faces are afraid of each other."

Captain Hunt was wise enough to retire without replying, and the next morning the Indians, armed with cords and switches, gave a severe whipping to the brigands, for having assumed the Comanche paint and war-whoop. This first part of their punishment being over, their paint was washed off, and the chief passed them over to us, who were, with the addition I have mentioned, now eight white inca. "They are too mean," said the chief, "to receive a warrior's death; judge them according to your laws; justice must be done."

It was an awful responsibility; but we judged them according to the laws of the United States and of Texas: they were condemned to be hung, and at sunset they were executed. For all I know, their bodies may still hang from the lower branches of the three large cotton-wood trees upon the head waters of the Trinity River.

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Note 1. It may appear singular to the reader that the Comanche, being always at war with the Texians, should not have immediately attacked the party under the orders of Hunt. But we were merely a hunting-party; that is to say, our band was composed chiefly of young hunters, not yet warriors. On such occasions, there is frequently, though not always, an ancient warrior for every eight hunters just to shew to them the crafts of Indian mode of hunting. These parties often bring with them their squaws and children, and never fight but when obliged to do so.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

We remained a few days where we were encamped to repose our horses and enable them to support the fatigues of our journey through the rugged and swampy wilderness of North-east Texas. Three days after the execution of the three prisoners, some of our Indians, on their return from a buffalo chase, informed us that several Texian companies, numbering two hundred men, were advancing in our direction, and that probably they were out upon an expedition against the Indians of the Cross Timbers, as they had with them many waggons evidently containing nothing but provisions and ammunition.

We were encamped in a strong position, and of course did not think of retiring. We waited for the Texian army, determined to give them a good drubbing if they dared to attempt to molest us. Notwithstanding the security of our position, we kept a good watch during the night, but nothing happened to give us alarm. The next morning, two hours after sunrise, we saw the little army halting two miles from us, on the opposite shore of a deep stream, which they must necessarily pass to come to us. A company of the Comanches immediately darted forward to dispute the passage; but some flags of truce being displayed by the Texians, five or six of them were allowed to swim over unmolested.

These worthies who came over were Captain Hunt, of whom I have before made mention, and General Smith, commanding the Texian army, who was a certain butcher from Indiana, who had been convicted of having murdered his wife and condemned to be hanged. He had, however, succeeded in escaping from the gaol, and making his way to Texas. The third eminent personage was a Colonel Hookley, and the other two were interpreters. As an Indian will never hurt a foe who comes with a flag of truce, the Comanches brought these gentlemen up to the camp.

As soon as General Smith presented himself before the Comanche chief, he commenced a bullying harangue, not stating for what purpose he had come, telling us gratuitously that he was the greatest general in the land, and that all the other officers were fools; that he had with him an innumerable number of stout and powerful warriors, who had no equal in the world; and thus he went on for half an hour, till, breath failing him, he was obliged to stop.

After a silence of a few minutes, he asked the Comanche chief what he could answer to that? The chief looked at him and replied, with the most ineffable contempt: "What should I answer?" said he; "I have heard nothing but the words of a fool abusing other fools. I have heard the howl of the wolf long before the buffalo was wounded; there can be no answer to no question; speak, if thou canst; say what thou wishest, or return from whence thou comest, lest the greatest warrior of Texas should be whipped by squaws and boys."

The ex-butcher was greatly incensed at the want of breeding and manners of the "poor devil of a savage," but at last he condescended to come to the point. First of all, having learned from Captain Hunt the whole transaction at Lewisburg, and that the Comanches had detained the prisoners, he wished to have them restored to him. Next he wanted to get the three young Pale-faces, who were with the Comanches (meaning me, Gabriel, and Roche). They were three thieves, who had escaped from the gaols, and he, the general, wanted to punish them. After all, they were three vagabonds, damned strangers, and strangers had nothing to do in Texas, so he must have them. Thirdly and lastly, he wanted to have delivered unto him the five Americans who had left Captain Hunt to join us. He suspected them to be rascals or traitors, or they would not have joined the Indians. He, the great general, wished to investigate closely into the matter, and so the Comanches had better think quick about it, for he was in a hurry.

I should here add, that the five Americans, though half-ruined by the thefts of the Texians, had yet with them four or five hundred dollars in good bank-notes, besides which each had a gold watch, well-furnished saddle-bags, a good saddle, and an excellent travelling horse.

The chief answered him: "Now I can answer, for I have heard words having a meaning, although I know them to be great lies. I say first, thou shalt not have the prisoners who murdered those of thine own colour, for they are hung yonder upon the tall trees, and there they shall remain till the vultures and the crows have picked their flesh.

"I say, secondly, that the three young Pale-faces are here and will answer for themselves, if they will or will not follow thee; but I see thy tongue can utter big lies; for I know they have never mixed with the Pale-faces of the south. As to the five Yankees, we cannot give them back to thee, because we can give back only what we have taken. They are now our guests, and, in our hospitality, they are secure till they leave us of their own accord. I have said!"

Scarcely were these words finished, when the general and his four followers found themselves surrounded by twenty Comanches, who conducted them back to the stream in rather an abrupt manner. The greatest officer of the land swore revenge; but as his guides did not understand him, he was lucky enough to reserve his tongue for more lies and more swearing at a more fitting time.

He soon rejoined his men, and fell back with them about a mile, apparently to prepare for an attack upon our encampment. In the evening, Roche and some five or six Indians passed the stream a few miles below, that they might observe what the Texians were about; but unfortunately they met with a party of ten of the enemy hunting, and Roche fell heavily under his horse, which was killed by a rifle-shot. One of the Comanches immediately jumped from his horse, rescued Roche from his dangerous position, and, notwithstanding that the Texians were at that instant charging, he helped Roche to his own saddle and bade him fly. Roche was too much stupified by his fall that he could not reflect, or otherwise his generous nature would never have permitted him to save his life—at the expense of that of the noble fellow who was thus sacrificing himself. As it was, he darted away, and his liberator, receiving the shock of the assailants, killed two of them, and fell pierced with their rifle-balls. [See note 1.]

The report of the rifles recalled Roche to his senses, and joining once more the three remaining Indians, he rushed madly upon the hunters, and, closing with one of them, he ripped him up with his knife, while the Comanches had each of them successfully thrown their lassoes, and now galloped across the plain, dragging after them three mangled bodies. Roche recovered his saddle and holsters, and taking with him the corpse of the noble-minded Indian, he gave to his companions the signal for retreat, as the remaining hunters were flying at full speed towards their camp, and, succeeded in giving the alarm. An hour after, they returned to us, and, upon their report, it was resolved that we should attack the Texians that very night.

About ten o'clock we started, divided into three bands of seventy men each, which made our number about equal to that of the Texians; Roche, who was disabled, with fifteen Indians and the five Americans remaining in the camp. Two of the bands went down the river to cross it without noise, while the third, commanded by Gabriel and me, travelled up the stream for two miles, where we safely effected our passage. We had left the horses ready, in case of accident, under the keeping of five men for every band. The plan was to surprise the Texians, and attack them at once in front and in rear; we succeeded beyond all expectations, the Texians, as usual, being all more or less intoxicated. We reached their fires before any alarm was given.

We gave the war-whoop and rushed among the sleepers. Many, many were killed in their deep sleep of intoxication, but those who awoke and had time to seize upon their arms fought certainly better than they would have done had they been sober. The gallant General Smith, the bravest of the brave and ex-butcher, escaped at the very beginning of the affray, but I saw the Comanche chief cleaving the skull of Captain Hunt with his tomahawk.

Before their onset, the Indians had secured almost all the enemy's waggons and horses, so that flight to many became impossible. At that particular spot the prairie was undulatory and bare, except on the left of the encampment, where a few bushes skirted the edge of a small stream; but these were too few and too small to afford a refuge to the Texians, one hundred of whom were killed and scalped. The remainder of the night was passed in giving chase to the fugitives, who, at last, halted at a bend of the river, in a position that could not be forced without great loss of life; so the Indians left them, and, after having collected all the horses and the booty they thought worth taking away, they burnt the waggons and returned to their own camp.

As we quitted the spot, I could not help occasionally casting a glance behind me, and the spectacle was truly magnificent. Hundreds of barrels, full of grease, salt pork, gin, and whisky, were burning, and the conflagration had now extended to the grass and the dry bushes.

We had scarcely crossed the river when the morning breeze sprung up, and now the flames extended in every direction, pining rapidly upon the spot where the remaining Texians had stood at bay. So fiercely and abruptly did the flames rush upon them, that all simultaneously, men and horses, darted into the water for shelter against the devouring element. Many were drowned in the whirlpools, and those who succeeded in reaching the opposite shore were too miserable and weak to think of anything, except of regaining, if possible, the southern settlements.

Though protected from the immediate reach of the flames by the branch of the river upon the shore of which we were encamped, the heat had become so intense, that we were obliged to shift farther to the west. Except in the supply of arms and ammunition, we perceived that our booty was worth nothing. This Texian expedition must have been composed of a very beggarly set, for there was not a single yard of linen, nor a miserable worn-out pair of trousers, to be found in all their bundles and boxes.

Among the horses taken, some thirty or forty were immediately identified by the Comanches as their own property, many of them, during the preceding year, having been stolen by a party of Texians, who had invited the Indians to a grand council. Gabriel, Roche, and I, of course, would accept none of the booty; and as time was now becoming to me a question of great importance, we bade farewell to our Comanche friends, and pursued our journey east, in company with the five Americans.

During the action, the Comanches had had forty men wounded and only nine killed. Yet, two months afterwards, I read in one of the American newspapers a very singular account of the action. It was a report of General Smith, commandant of the central force of Texas, relative to the glorious expedition against the savages, in which the gallant soldiers of the infant republic had achieved the most wonderful exploits. It said, "That General Smith having been apprised, by the unfortunate Captain Hunt, that five thousand savages had destroyed the rising city of Lewisburg, and murdered all the inhabitants, had immediately hastened with his intrepid fellows to the neighbourhood of the scene; that there, during the night, and when every man was broken down with fatigue, they were attacked by the whole force of the Indians, who had with them some twenty half-breeds, with French and English traders. In spite of their disadvantages, the Texians repulsed the Comanches with considerable loss, till the morning, when the men were literally tired with killing and the prairie was covered with the corpses of two thousand savages; the Texians themselves having lost but thirty or forty men, and these people of little consequence, being emigrants recently arrived from the States. During the day, the stench became so intolerable, that General Smith caused the prairie to be set on fire, and crossing the river, returned home by slow marches, knowing it would be quite useless to pursue the Comanches in the wild and broken prairies of the north. Only one Texian of note had perished during the conflict—the brave and unfortunate Captain Hunt; so that, upon the whole, considering the number of the enemy, the republic may consider this expedition as the most glorious enterprise since the declaration of Texian independence."

The paragraph went on in this manner till it filled three close columns, and as a finale, the ex-butcher made an appeal to all the generous and "liberty-loving" sons of the United States and Texas, complaining bitterly against the cabinets of St. James and the Tuileries, who, jealous of the prosperity and glory of Texas, had evidently sent agents (trappers and half-breeds) to excite the savages, through malice, envy, and hatred of the untarnished name and honour of the great North American Republic.

The five Americans who accompanied us were of a superior class, three of them from Virginia and two from Maryland. Their history was that of many others of their countrymen. Three of them had studied the law, one divinity, and the other medicine. Having no opening for the exercise of their profession at home, they had gone westward, to carve a fortune in the new States; but there every thing was in such a state of anarchy that they could not earn their subsistence; they removed farther west, until they entered Texas, "a country sprung up but yesterday, and where an immense wealth can be made." They found, on their arrival at this anticipated paradise, their chances of success in their profession still worse than in their own country. The lawyers discovered that, on a moderate computation, there were not less than ten thousand attorneys in Texas, who had emigrated from the Eastern States; the president, the secretaries, constables, tavern-keepers, generals, privates, sailors, porters, and horse-thieves were all of them originally lawyers, or had been brought up to that profession.

As to the doctor, he soon found that the apologue of the "wolf and the stork" had been written purposely for medical practice in Texas, for as soon as he had cured a patient (picked the bone out of his throat), he had to consider himself very lucky if he could escape from half-a-dozen inches of the bowie-knife, by way of recompense; moreover, every visit cost him his pocket-handkerchief or his 'bacco-box, if he had any. I have to remark here, that kerchief-taking is a most common joke in Texas, and I wonder very much at it, as no individual of the male species, in that promised land, will ever apply that commodity to its right use, employing for that purpose the pair of snuffers which natural instinct has supplied him with. At the same time, it must be admitted that no professional man can expect employment, without he can flourish a pocket-handkerchief.

As for the divine, he soon found that religion was not a commodity required in so young a country, and that he might just as well have speculated in sending a cargo of skates to the West Indies, or supplying Mussulmans with swine. The merits of the voluntary system had not been yet appreciated in Texas; and if he did preach, he had to preach by himself, not being able to obtain a clerk to make the responses.

As we travelled along the dreary prairies, these five Eldorado seekers proved to be jovial fellows, and there was about them an elasticity of temper which did not allow them to despond. The divine had made up his mind to go to Rome, and convert the Pope, who, after all, was a clever old bon vivant; the doctor would go to Edinburgh, and get selected, from his superior skill, as president of the Surgical College; one of the lawyers determined he would "run for legislature," or keep a bar (a whisky one); the second wished to join the Mormons, who were a set of clever blackguards; and the third thought of going to China, to teach the celestial brother of the sun to use the Kentucky rifle and "brush the English." Some individuals in England have reproached me with indulging too much in building castles in the air; but certainly, compared to those of a Yankee in search after wealth, mine have been most sober speculations.

Each of our new companions had some little Texian history to relate, which they declared to be the most rascally, but smartish trick in the world. One of the lawyers was once summoned before a magistrate, and a false New Orleans fifty-dollar bank-note was presented to him, as the identical one he had given to the clerk of Tremont Hotel (the great hotel at Galveston), in payment of his weekly bill. Now, the lawyer had often dreamed of fifties, hundreds, and even of thousands; but fortune had been so fickle with him, that he had never been in possession of bank-notes higher than five or ten dollars, except one of the glorious Cairo Bank twenty-dollar notes, which his father presented to him in Baltimore, when he advised him most paternally to try his luck in the West.

By the bye, that twenty-dollar Cairo note's adventures should be written in gold letters, for it enabled the traveller to eat, sleep, and drink, free of cost, from Louisville to St. Louis, through Indiana and Illinois; any tavern-keeper preferring losing the price of a bed, or of a meal, sooner than run the risk of returning good change for bad money. The note was finally changed in St. Louis for a three-dollar, bank of Springfield, which being yet current, at a discount of four cents to the dollar, enabled the fortunate owner to take his last tumbler of port-wine sangaree before his departure for Texas.

Of course, the lawyer had no remorse of conscience, in swearing that the note had never been his, but the tavern-keeper and two witnesses swore to his having given it, and the poor fellow was condemned to recash and pay expenses. Having not a cent, he was allowed to go, for it so happened that the gaol was not built for such vagabonds, but for the government officers, who had their sleeping apartments in it. This circumstance occasioned it to be remarked by a few commonly honest people of Galveston, that if the gates of the gaol were closed at night, the community would be much improved.

Three days afterwards, a poor captain, from a Boston vessel, was summoned for the very identical bank-note, which he was obliged to pay, though he had never set his foot into the Tremont Hotel.

There is, in Galveston a new-invented trade, called "the rag-trade," which is very profitable. I refer to the purchasing and selling of false bank-notes, which are, as in the lawyer's case, palmed upon any stranger suspected of having money. On such occasions, the magistrate and the plaintiff share the booty. I may as well here add a fact which is well known in France and the United States. Eight days after the Marquis de Saligny's (French charge d'affaires) arrival in Houston, he was summoned before a magistrate, and, upon the oaths of the parties, found guilty of having passed seven hundred dollars in false notes to a land speculator. He paid the money, but as he never had had in his possession any money, except French gold and notes of the Banque de France, he complained to his government; and this specimen of Texian honesty was the principal cause why the banker (Lafitte) suddenly broke the arrangement he had entered into with General Hamilton (charge d'affaires from Texas to England and France) for a loan of seven millions of dollars.

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Note 1. So sacred are the laws of hospitality among these indians, that a dozen lives would be sacrificed, if required, to save that of a guest. In sacrificing himself for Roche, the Comanche considered that he was doing a mere act of duty.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

We had now entered a track of land similar to that which we had travelled over when on our route from the Wakoes to the Comanches. The prairie was often intersected by chasms, the bottoms of which were perfectly dry, so that we could procure water but once every twenty-four hours, and that, too, often so hot and so muddy, that even our poor horses would not drink it freely. They had, however, the advantage over us in point of feeding, for the grass was sweet and tender, and moistened during night by the heavy dews; as for ourselves, we were beginning to starve in earnest.

We had anticipated regaling ourselves with the juicy humps of the buffaloes which we should kill, but although we had entered the very heart of their great pasture-land, we had not met with one, nor even with a ground-hog, a snake, or a frog. One evening, the pangs of hunger became so sharp, that we were obliged to chew tobacco and pieces of leather to allay our cravings; and we determined that if, the next day at sunset, we had no better fortune, we would draw lots to kill one of our horses. That evening we could not sleep, and as murmuring was of no avail, the divine entertained us with a Texian story, just, as he said, to pump the superfluous air out of his body. I shall give it in his own terms:—

"Well, I was coming down the Wabash River (Indiana), when, as it, happens nine times out of ten, the steam-boat got aground, and that so firmly, that there was no hope of her floating again till the next flood; so I took my wallet, waded for two hundred yards, with the water to my knees, till I got safe on shore, upon a thick-timbered bank, full of rattle-snakes, thorns of the locust-tree, and spiders' webs, so strong, that I was obliged to cut them with my nose, to clear the way before me. I soon got so entangled by the vines and the briars, that I thought I had better turn my back to the stream till I should get to the upland, which I could now and then perceive through the clearings opened between the trees by recent thunder-storms. Unhappily, between the upland and the little ridge on which I stood there was a wide river bottom [see note 1.], into which I had scarcely advanced fifty yards, when I got bogged. Well, it took me a long while to get out of my miry hole, where I was as fast as a swine in its Arkansas sty; and then I looked about for my wallet, which I had dropped. I could see which way it had gone, for, close to the yawning circle from which I had just extricated myself; there was another smaller one two yards off; into which my wallet had sunk deep, though it was comfortably light, which goes to illustrate the Indiana saying, that there is no conscience so light but will sink in the bottom of the Wabash. Well, I did not care much, as in my wallet I had only an old coloured shirt and a dozen of my own sermons, which I knew by heart, having repeated them a hundred times over.

"Being now in a regular fix, I cut a stick, and began whittling and whistling, to lighten my sorrows, till at last I perceived at the bank of the river, and five hundred yards ahead, one of those large rafts, constructed pretty much like Noah's ark, in which a Wabash farmer embarks his cargo of women and fleas, pigs and chickens, corn, whisky, rats, sheep, and stolen niggers; indeed, in most cases, the whole of the cargo is stolen, except the wife and children, the only portion whom the owner would very much like to be rid of; but these will stick to him as naturally as a prairie fly to a horse, as long as he has spirits to drink, pigs to attend to, and breeches to mend.

"Well, as she was close to the bank, I got in. The owner was General John Meyer, from Vincennes, and his three sons, the colonel, the captain, and the judge. They lent me a sort of thing which, many years before, had probably been a horse-blanket. With it I covered myself; while one of the 'boys' spread my clothes to dry, and, as I had nothing left in the world, except thirty dollars in my pocket-book, I kept that constantly in my hand till the evening, when, my clothes being dried, I recovered the use of my pocket. The general was free with his 'Wabash water' (western appellation for whisky), and, finding me to his taste, as he said, he offered me a passage gratis to New Orleans, if I could but submit myself to his homely fare; that is to say, salt pork, with plenty of gravy, four times a day, and a decoction of burnt bran and grains of maize, going under the name of coffee all over the States—the whisky was to be ad libitum.

"As I considered the terms moderate, I agreed, and the hospitable general soon entrusted me with his plans. He had gone many times to Texas; he loved Texas—it was a free country, according to his heart; and now he had collected all his own (he might have said, 'and other people's too'), to go to New Orleans, where his pigs and corn, exchanged against goods, would enable him to settle with his family in Texas in a gallant style. Upon my inquiring what could be the cause of a certain abominable smell which pervaded the cabin, he apprised me that, in a small closet adjoining, he had secured a dozen of runaway negroes, for the apprehension of whom he would be well rewarded.

"Well, the next morning we went on pretty snugly, and I had nothing to complain of, except the fleas and the 'gals' who bothered me not a little. Three days afterwards we entered the Ohio, and the current being very strong, I began to think myself fortunate, as I should reach New Orleans in less than forty days, passage free. We went on till night, when we stopped, three or four miles from the junction with the Mississippi. The cabin being very warm, and the deck in possession of the pigs, I thought I would sleep ashore, under a tree. The general said it was a capital plan, and, after having drained half-a-dozen cups of 'stiff, true, downright Yankee Number 1,' we all of us took our blankets (I mean the white-skinned party), and having lighted a great fire, the general, the colonel, the major, and the judge laid down,—an example which I followed as soon as I had neatly folded up my coat and fixed it upon a bush, with my hat and boots, for I was now getting particular, and wished to cut a figure in New Orleans; my thoughts running upon plump and rich widows, which you know are the only provision for us preachers.

"Well, my dreams were nothing but the continuation of my thoughts during the day. I fancied I was married, and the owner of a large sugar plantation. I had a good soft bed and my pious wife was feeling about me with her soft hands, probably to see if my heart beat quick, and if I had good dreams;—a pity I did not awake then, for I should have saved my dollars, as the hand which I was dreaming of was that of the hospitable general searching for my pocket-book. It was late when I opened my eyes—and, lo! the sleepers were gone, with the boat, my boots, my coat, my hat, and, I soon found, with my money I had been left alone, with a greasy Mackinaw blanket, and as in my stupefaction I gazed all round, and up and down, I saw my pocket-book empty, which the generous general had humanely left to me to put other notes in, 'when I could get any.' I kicked it with my foot, and should indubitably have been food for cat-fish, had I not heard most a propos the puffing of a steam-boat coming down the river."

At that moment the parson interrupted his narrative, by observing:

"Well, I'd no idea that I had talked so long; why, man, look to the east, 'tis almost daylight."

And sure enough the horizon of the prairie was skirted with that red tinge which always announces the break of day in these immense level solitudes. Our companions had all fallen asleep, and our horses, looking to the east, snuffed the air and stamped upon the ground, as if to express their impatience to leave so inhospitable a region. I replied to the parson:

"It is now too late for us to think of sleeping; let us stir the fire, and go on with your story." We added fuel to the nearly consumed pile, and shaking our blankets, which were heavy with the dew, my companion resumed his narrative:—

"Well, I reckon it was more than half an hour before the steam-boat came in sight, and as the channel of the river ran close in with the shore, I was soon picked up. The boat was going to St. Louis, and as I had not a cent left to pay my passage, I was obliged, in way of payment, to relate my adventure. Everybody laughed. All the men declared the joke was excellent, and that General Meyer was a clever rascal; they told me I should undoubtedly meet him at New Orleans, but it would be of no use. Every body knew Meyer and his pious family, but he was so smart, that nothing could be done against him. Well, the clerk was a good-humoured fellow; he lent me an old coat and five dollars; the steward brought me a pair of slippers, and somebody gave me a worn-out loose cap. This was very good, but my luck was better still. The cause of my own ruin had been the grounding of a steam-boat; the same accident happening again set me on my legs. Just as we turned the southern point of Illinois, we buried ourselves in a safe bed of mud. It was so common an occurrence, that nobody cared much about it, except a Philadelphian going to Texas; he was in a great hurry to go on westward, and no wonder. I learned afterwards that he had absconded from the bank, of which he was a cashier, with sixty thousand dollars.

"Well, as I said, we were bogged; patience was necessary, laments were of no use, so we dined with as much appetite as if nothing had happened, and some of the regular 'boys' took to 'Yooka,' to kill the time. They were regular hands, to be sure, but I was myself trump Number 1. Pity we have no cards with us; it would be amusing to be the first man introducing that game into the western prairies. Well, I looked on, and by-and-by, I got tired of being merely a spectator. My nose itched, my fingers too. I twisted my five-dollar bill in all senses, till a sharp took me for a flat, and he proposed kindly to pluck me out-and-out. I plucked him in less than no time, winning eighty dollars at a sitting; and when we left off for tea, I felt that I had acquired consequence, and even merit, for money gives both. During the night I was so successful, that when I retired to my berth I found myself the owner of four hundred and fifty dollars, a gold watch, a gold pin, and a silver 'bacco-box. Everything is useful in this world, even getting aground. Now, I never repine at anything.

"The next day another steam-boat passed, and picked us up. It was one of those light crafts which speculate upon misfortune; they hunt after stranded boats, as a wolf after wounded deer—they take off the passengers, and charge what they please. From Cincinnati to St. Louis the fare was ten dollars, and the unconscious wreck-seeker of a captain charged us twenty-five dollars each for the remainder of the trip—one day's journey. However, I did not care.

"An Arkansas man, who had no more money, sold me, for fifteen dollars, his wallet, a fine great-coat, two clean shirts, and a hat; from another I purchased a pair of bran-new, Boston-made, elegant black breeches, so that when I landed at St. Louis I cut a regular figure, went to Planter's Hotel, and in the course of a week made a good round sum by three lectures upon the vanities of the world and the sin of desponding. Well, to cut matters short—by the bye, there must be something wrong stirring in the prairie; look at our horses, how uneasy they seem to be. Don't you hear anything?"

Our horses, indeed, were beginning to grow wild with excitement, and thinking that their instinct had told them that wolves were near, I tied them closer to where we bivouacked, and then applied my ears to the ground, to try and catch any sound.

"I hear no noise," said I, "except the morning breeze passing through the withered grass. Our horses have been smelling wolves, but the brutes will not approach our fire."

The parson, who had a great faith in my "white Indian nature," resumed the thread of his narrative:—

"To cut the matter short, I pass over my trip to New Orleans and Galveston. Suffice it to say, that I was a gentleman preacher, with plenty of money, and that the Texians, president, generals, and all, condescended to eat my dinners, though they would not hear my sermons; even the women looked softly upon me, for I had two trunks, linen in plenty, and I had taken the precaution in Louisiana of getting rid of my shin-plasters for hard specie. I could have married any body, if I had wished, from the president's old mother to the barmaid at the tavern. I had money, and to me all was smiles and sunshine. One day I met General Meyer; the impudent fellow came immediately to me, shook my hand in quite a cordial manner, and inquired how my health had been since he had seen me last. That was more than my professional meekness could endure, so I reproached him with his rascality and abuse of hospitality towards me, adding that I expected he would now repay me what he had so unceremoniously taken from me while I was asleep. General Meyer looked perfectly aghast, and calling me a liar, a scoundrel, and a villain, he rushed upon me with his drawn bowie-knife, and would have indubitably murdered me, had he not been prevented by a tall powerful chap, to whom, but an hour before, I had lent, or given, five dollars, partly from fear of him and partly from compassion for his destitution.

"The next day I started for Houston, where I settled, and preached to old women, children, and negroes, while the white male population were getting drunk, swearing, and fighting, just before the door of the church. I had scarcely been there a month when a constable arrested me on the power of a warrant obtained against me by that rascally Meyer. Brought up before the magistrate, I was confronted with the blackguard and five other rascals of his stamp, who positively took their oaths that they had seen me taking the pocket-book of the general, which he had left accidentally upon the table in the bar of Tremont's. The magistrate said, that out of respect for the character of my profession he would not push the affair to extremities, but that I must immediately give back the two hundred dollars Meyer said I had stolen from him, and pay fifty dollars besides for the expenses. In vain I remonstrated my innocence; no choice was left to me but to pay or go to gaol.

"By that time I knew pretty well the character of the people among whom I was living; I knew there was no justice to whom I could apply; I reckoned also that, if once put in gaol, they would not only take the two hundred and fifty dollars; but also the whole I possessed. So I submitted, as it was the best I could do; I removed immediately to another part of Texas, but it would not do. Faith, the Texians are a very ugly set of gents."

"And Meyer," I interrupted, "what of him?"

"Oh!" replied the parson, "that is another story. Why, he returned to New Orleans, where, with his three sons, he committed an awful murder upon the cashier of the legislature; he was getting away with twenty thousand dollars, but being caught in the act, he was tried, sentenced, and hanged, with all his hopeful progeny, and the old negro hangman of New Orleans had the honour of making in one day, a close acquaintance with a general, a colonel, a major, and a judge."

"What, talking still!" exclaimed the doctor, yawning: he had just awoke. "What the devil can you have babbled about during the whole blessed night? Why, 'tis morn."

Saying this, he took up his watch, looked at it, applied it to his ear, to see if it had not stopped, and exclaimed:—

"By jingo, but I am only half-past one." The parson drew out his also, and repeated the same, "half-past one."

At that moment the breeze freshened, and I heard the distant and muffled noise which in the West announces either an earthquake or an "estampede," of herds of wild cattle and other animals. Our horses, too, were aware of some danger, for now they were positively mad, struggling to break the lassoes and escape.

"Up!" I cried, "up! Gabriel, Roche, up!—up, strangers, quick! saddle your beasts! run for your lives! the prairie is on fire, and the buffaloes are upon us."

They all started upon their feet, but not a word was exchanged; each felt the danger of his position; speed was our only resource, if it was not already too late. In a minute our horses were saddled, in another we were madly galloping across the prairie, the bridles upon the necks of our steeds, allowing them to follow their instinct. Such had been our hurry, that all our blankets were left behind, except that of Gabriel; the lawyers had never thought of their saddle-bags, and the parson had forgotten his holsters and his rifle.

For an hour we dashed on with undiminished speed, when we felt the earth trembling behind us, and soon afterwards the distant bellowing mixed up with the roaring and sharper cries of other animals, were borne down unto our ears. The atmosphere grew oppressive and heavy, while the flames, swifter than the wind, appeared raging upon the horizon. The fleeter game of all kinds now shot past us like arrows; deer were bounding over the ground, in company with wolves and panthers; droves of elks and antelopes passed swifter than a dream; then a solitary horse or a huge buffalo-bull. From our intense anxiety, although our horses strained every nerve, we almost appeared to stand still.

The atmosphere rapidly became more dense, the heat more oppressive, the roars sounded louder and louder in our ears; now and then they were mingled with terrific howls and shrill sounds, so unearthly that even our horses would stop their mad career and tremble, as if they considered them supernatural; but it was only for a second, and they dashed on.

A noble stag passed close to us, his strength was exhausted; three minutes afterwards, we passed him—dead. But soon, with the rushing noise of a whirlwind, the mass of heavier and less speedy animals closed upon us: buffaloes and wild horses, all mixed together, an immense dark body, miles in front, miles in depth; on they came, trampling and dashing through every obstacle. This phalanx was but two miles from us. Our horses were nearly exhausted; we gave ourselves up for lost; a few minutes more, and we should be crushed to atoms.

At that moment, the sonorous voice of Gabriel was heard, firm and imperative. He had long been accustomed to danger, and now he faced it with his indomitable energy, as if such scenes were his proper element:—"Down from your horses," cried he; "let two of you keep them steady. Strip off your shirts, linen, anything that will catch fire; quick, not a minute is to be lost." Saying this, he ignited some tinder with the pan of his pistol, and was soon busy in making a fire with all the clothes we now threw to him. Then we tore up withered grass and buffalo-dung, and dashed them on the heap.

Before three minutes had passed, our fire burned fiercely. On came the terrified mass of animals, and perceiving the flame of our fire before them, they roared with rage and terror, yet they turned not, as we had hoped. On they came, and already we could distinguish their horns, their feet, and the white foam; our fuel was burning out, the flames were lowering; the parson gave a scream, and fainted. On came the maddened myriads, nearer and nearer; I could see their wild eyes glaring; they wheeled not, opened not a passage, but came on like messengers of death—nearer—nearer—nearer still. My brain reeled, my eyes grew dim; it was horrible, most horrible! I dashed down, with my face covered, to meet my fate.

At that moment I heard an explosion, then a roar, as if proceeding from ten millions of buffalo-bulls—so stunning, so stupefying was the sound from the mass of animals, not twenty yards from us. Each moment I expected the hoofs which were to trample us to atoms; and yet, death came not. I only heard the rushing as of a mighty wind and the trembling of the earth. I raised my head, and looked.

Gabriel at the critical moment had poured some whisky upon the flames, the leathern bottle had exploded, with a blaze like lightning, and, at the expense of thousands crushed to death, the animals had swerved from contact with the fierce, blue column of fire which had been created. Before and behind, all around us, we could see nothing but the shaggy wool of the huge monsters; not a crevice was to be seen in the flying masses, but the narrow line which had been opened to avoid our fire.

In this dangerous position we remained for one hour, our lives depending upon the animals not closing the line; but Providence watched over us, and after what appeared an eternity of intense suspense, the columns became thinner and thinner, till we found ourselves only encircled with the weaker and more exhausted animals, which brought up the rear. Our first danger was over, but we had still to escape from one as imminent— the pursuing flame, now so much closer to us. The whole prairie behind us was on fire, and the roaring element was gaining on us with a frightful speed. Once more we sprang upon our saddles, and the horses, with recovered wind and with strength tenfold increased by their fear, soon brought us to the rear of the buffaloes.

It was an awful sight! a sea of fire roaring in its fury, with heaving waves and unearthly hisses, approaching nearer and nearer, rushing on swifter than the sharp morning breeze. Had we not just escaped so unexpectedly a danger almost as terrible, we should have despaired and left off an apparently useless struggle for our lives.

Away we dashed, over hills and down declivities; for now the ground had become more broken. The fire was gaining fast upon us, when we perceived that, a mile ahead, the immense herds before us had entered a deep, broad chasm, into which they dashed, thousands upon thousands, tumbling headlong into the abyss. But now, the fire rushing quicker, blazing fiercer than before, as if determined not to lose its prey, curled its waves above our heads, smothering us with its heat and lurid smoke.

A few seconds more we spurred in agony; speed was life; the chasm was to be our preservation or our tomb. Down we darted, actually borne upon the backs of the descending mass, and landed, without sense or motion, more than a hundred feet below. As soon as we recovered from the shock, we found that we had been most mercifully preserved; strange to say, neither horse nor rider had received any serious injury. We heard, above our heads, the hissing and cracking of the fire; we contemplated with awe the flames, which were roaring along the edge of the precipice—now rising, now lowering, just as if they would leap over the space and annihilate all life in these western solitudes.

We were preserved; our fall had been broken by the animals, who had taken the leap a second before us, and by the thousands of bodies which were heaped up as a hecatomb, and received us as a cushion below. With difficulty we extricated ourselves and horses, and descending the mass of carcasses, we at last succeeded in reaching a few acres of clear ground. It was elevated a few feet above the water of the torrent, which ran through the ravine, and offered to our broken-down horses a magnificent pasture of sweet blue grass. But the poor things were too terrified and exhausted, and they stretched themselves down upon the ground, a painful spectacle of utter helplessness.

We perceived that the crowds of flying animals had succeeded in finding, some way further down, an ascent to the opposite prairie; and as the earth and rocks still trembled, we knew that the "estampede" had not ceased, and that the millions of fugitives had resumed their mad career. Indeed there was still danger, for the wind was high, and carried before it large sheets of flames to the opposite side, where the dried grass and bushes soon became ignited, and the destructive element thus passed the chasm and continued its pursuit.

We congratulated ourselves upon having thus found security, and returned thanks to Heaven for our wonderful escape; and as we were now safe from immediate danger, we lighted a fire, feasted upon a young buffalo-calf, every bone of which we found had been broken into splinters. [See note 2.]

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Note 1. River bottom is a space, sometimes of many many miles in width, on the side of the river, running parallel with it. It is always very valuable and productive land, but unhealthy, and dangerous to cross, from its boggy nature.

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Note 2. I have said, at a venture, that we descended more than a hundred feet into the chasm before we fairly landed on the bodies of the animals. The chasm itself could not have been less than two hundred and fifty to three hundred feet deep at the part that we plunged down. This will give the reader some idea of the vast quantity of bodies of animals, chiefly buffaloes, which were there piled up. I consider that this pile must have been formed wholly from the foremost of the mass, and that when formed, it broke the fall of the others, who followed them, as it did our own; indeed, the summit of the heap was pounded into a sort of jelly.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

Two days did we remain in our shelter, to regain our strength and to rest our horses. Thus deeply buried in the bosom of the earth, we were safe from the devastating elements. On the second day we heard tremendous claps of thunder; we knew that a storm was raging which would quench the fire, but we cared little about what was going on above.

We had plenty to eat and to drink, our steeds were recovering fast, and, in spite of the horrors we had just undergone, we were not a little amused by the lamentations of the parson, who, recollecting the destruction of his shirts, forgot his professional duty, and swore against Texas and the Texians, against the prairies, the buffaloes, and the fire: the last event had produced so deep an impression upon his mind, that he preferred shivering all night by the banks of the torrent to sleeping near our comfortable fire; and as to eating of the delicate food before him, it was out of the question; he would suck it, but not masticate nor swallow it; his stomach and his teeth refused to accomplish their functions upon the abhorred meat; and he solemnly declared that never again would he taste beef—cow or calf—tame or wild—even if he were starving.

One of the lawyers, too, was loud in his complaints, for although born in the States, he had in his veins no few drops of Irish blood, and could not forget the sacrifice Gabriel had made of the whisky. "Such stuff!" he would exclaim, "the best that ever came into this land of abomination, to be thrown in the face of dirty buffaloes! the devil take them! Eh! Monsheer Owato Wanisha,—queer outlandish name, by the bye,—please to pass me another slice of the varmint (meaning the buffalo-calf). Bless my soul, if I did not think, at one time, it was after the liquor the brutes were running!"

Upon the morning of the third day, we resumed our journey, following the stream down for a few miles, over thousands of dead animals, which the now foaming torrent could not wash away. We struck the winding path which the "estampedados" had taken; and as it had been worked by the millions of fugitives into a gentle ascent, we found ourselves, long before noon, once more upon the level of the prairie. What a spectacle of gloom and death! As far as the eye could reach, the earth was naked and blackened. Not a stem of grass, not a bush, had escaped the awful conflagration; and thousands of half-burnt bodies of deer, buffaloes, and mustangs covered the prairie in every direction.

The horizon before us was concealed by a high and rugged ridge of the rolling prairie, towards which we proceeded but slowly, so completely was the track made by the buffaloes choked by burnt bodies of all descriptions of animals. At last we reached the summit of the swell, and perceived that we were upon one of the head branches of the Trinity River, forming a kind of oblong lake, a mile broad, but exceedingly shallow; the bottom was of a hard white sandy formation, and as we crossed this beautiful sheet of clear water, the bottom appeared to be studded with grains of gold and crystals.

This brought round the characteristic elasticity of temper belonging to the Americans, and caused the doctor to give way to his mental speculations:—He would not go to Edinburgh; it was nonsense; here was a fortune made. He would form a company in New York, capital one million of dollars—the Gold, Emerald, Topaz, Sapphire, and Amethyst Association, in ten thousand shares, one hundred dollars a-piece. In five years he would be the richest man in the world; he would build ten cities on the Mississippi, and would give powder and lead to the Comanches for nothing, so that they could at once clear the world of Texians and buffaloes. He had scarcely finished, when we reached the other side of the lake; there we had to pass over a narrow ridge, covered with green bushes, but now torn and trampled down; the herds had passed over there, and the fire had been extinguished by the waters of this "fairy lake," for so we had baptised it. Half an hour more brought us clear out from the cover, and a most strange and unusual sight was presented to our eyes.

On a rich and beautiful prairie, green and red, the wild clover and the roses, and occasionally a plum-tree, varying the hues, were lying prostrate, as far as the eye could reach, hundreds of thousands of animals of all species, some quietly licking their tired limbs, and others extending their necks, without rising, to graze upon the soft grass around them. The sight was beautiful above all description, and recalled to mind the engravings of the creation affixed to the old Bibles. Wolves and panthers were lying but a few paces from a small flock of antelopes; buffaloes, bears, and horses were mixed together, every one of them incapable of moving from the spot on which they had dropped from exhaustion and fatigue.

We passed a large jaguar, glaring fiercely at a calf ten feet from him; on seeing us, he attempted to rise, but, utterly helpless, he bent his body so as to form a circle, concealing his head upon his breast under his huge paws, and uttered a low growl, half menacing, half plaintive. Had we had powder to waste, we would certainly have rid the gramnivorous from many of their carnivorous neighbours, but we were now entering a tract of country celebrated for the depredations of the Texians and Buggles free bands, and every charge of powder thrown away was a chance the less, in case of a fight.

As by this time our horses were in want of rest, we took off their saddles, and the poor things feasted better than they had done for a long while. As for us, we had fortunately still a good supply of the cold calf, for we felt a repugnance to cut the throats of any of the poor broken-down creatures before us. Close to us there was a fine noble stag, for which I immediately took a fancy. He was so worn out that he could not even move a few inches to get at the grass, and his dried, parched tongue shewed plainly how much he suffered from the want of water. I pulled up two or three handfuls of clover, which I presented to him, but though he tried to swallow it, he could not.

As there was a water-hole some twenty yards off, I took the doctor's fur cap, and filling it with water, returned to the stag. What an expressive glance! What beautiful eyes! I sprinkled at first some drops upon his tongue, and then, putting the water under his nose, he soon drained it up. My companions became so much interested with the sufferings of the poor animals, that they took as many of the young fawns as they could, carrying them to the edge of the water-hole, that they might regain their strength and fly away before the wolves could attack them.

Upon my presenting a second capful of water to the stag, the grateful animal licked my hands, and, after having drunk, tried to rise to follow me, but its strength failing, its glances followed me as I was walking to and fro; they spoke volumes; I could understand their meaning. I hate to hear of the superiority of man! Man is ungrateful as a viper, while a horse, a dog, and many others of the "soulless brutes," will never forget a kindness.

I wondered what had become of our three lawyers, who had wandered away without their rifles, and had been more than two hours absent. I was about to propose a search after them when they arrived, with their knives and tomahawks, and their clothes all smeared with blood. They had gone upon a cruise against the wolves, and had killed the brutes until they were tired and had no more strength to use their arms.

The reader, comfortably seated in his elbow-chair, cannot comprehend the hatred which a prairie traveller nourishes against the wolves. As soon as we found out what these three champions of the wilderness had been about, we resolved to encamp there for the night, that we might destroy as many as we could of these prairie sharks. Broken-down as they were, there was no danger attending the expedition, and, tightening on our belts, and securing our pistols, in case of an attack from a recovering panther, we started upon our butchering expedition. On our way we met with some fierce-looking jaguars, which we did not think prudent to attack, so we let them alone, and soon found occupation enough for our knives and tomahawks among a close-packed herd of wolves.

How many of these detested brutes we killed I cannot say, but we did not leave off until our hands had become powerless from exhaustion, and our tomahawks were so blunted as to be rendered of no use. When we left the scene of massacre, we had to pass over a pool of blood ankle-deep, and such was the bowling of those who were not quite dead, that the deer and elk were in every direction struggling to rise and fly [see note 1]. We had been employed more than four hours in our work of destruction, when we returned to the camp, tired and hungry. Roche had kicked up a bear-cub, which the doctor skinned and cooked for us while we were taking our round to see how our proteges were going on. All those that had been brought up to the water-hole were so far recovered that they were grazing about, and bounded away as soon as we attempted to near them. My stag was grazing also, but he allowed me to caress him, just as if we had been old friends, and he never left the place until the next morning, when we ourselves started.

The doctor called us for our evening meal, to which we did honour, for, in addition to his wonderful culinary talents, he knew some plants, common in the prairies, which can impart even to a bear's chop a most savoury and aromatic flavour. He was in high glee, as we praised his skill, and so excited did he become, that he gave up his proposal of the "Gold, Emerald, Topaz, Sapphire, and Amethyst Association, in ten thousand shares," and vowed he would cast away his lancet and turn cook in the service of some bon vivant, or go to feed the padres of a Mexican convent, he boasted that he could cook the toughest old woman, so as to make the flesh appear as white, soft, and sweet as that of a spring chicken; but upon my proposing to send him, as a cordon bleu, to the Cayugas, in West Texas, or among the Club Indians of the Colorado of the West, he changed his mind again, and formed new plans for the regeneration of the natives of America.

After our supper, we rode our horses to the lake, to water and bathe them, which duty being performed, we sought that repose which we were doomed not to enjoy; for we had scarcely shut our eyes when a tremendous shower fell upon us, and in a few minutes we were drenched to the skin. The reader may recollect that, excepting Gabriel we had all of us left our blankets on the spot where we had at first descried the prairie was in flames, so that we were now shivering with cold, and, what was worse, the violence of the rain was such, that we could not keep our fire alive. It was an ugly night, to be sure; but the cool shower saved the panting and thirsty animals, for whose sufferings we had felt so much. All night we heard the deer and antelopes trotting and scampering towards the lake; twice or thrice the distant roars of the panthers shewed that these terrible animals were quitting our neighbourhood, and the fierce growling of the contending wolves told us plainly that, if they were not strong enough to run, they could at least crawl and prey upon their own dead. It has been asserted that wolves do not prey upon their own species, but it is a mistake, for I have often seen them attacking, tearing, and eating each other.

The warm rays of the morning sun at last dispersed the gloom and clouds of night; deer, elks, and antelopes were all gone except my own stag, to which I gave a handful of salt, as I had some in my saddle-bags. Some few mustangs and buffaloes were grazing, but the larger portion, extending as far as the eye could reach, were still prostrate on the grass. As to the wolves, either from their greater fatigue they had undergone, or from their being glutted with the blood and flesh of their companions, they seemed stiffer than ever. We watered our horses, replenished our flasks, and, after a hearty meal upon the cold flesh of the bear, we resumed our journey to warm ourselves by exercise and dry our clothes, for we were wet to the skin, and benumbed with cold.

The reader may be surprised at these wild animals being in the state of utter exhaustion which I have described; but he must be reminded that, in all probability, this prairie fire had driven them before it for hundreds of miles, and that at a speed unusual to them, and which nothing but a panic could have produced. I think it very probable that the fire ran over an extent of five hundred miles; and my reason for so estimating it is, the exhausted state of the carnivorous animals.

A panther can pass over two hundred miles or more at full speed without great exhaustion; so would a jaguar, or, indeed an elk.

I do not mean to say that all the animals, as the buffaloes, mustangs, deer, etcetera, had run this distance; of course, as the fire rolled on, the animals were gradually collected, till they had formed the astounding mass which I have described, and thousands had probably already perished, long before the fire had reached the prairie where we were encamped; still I have at other times witnessed the extraordinary exertions which animals are capable of when under the influence of fear. At one estampede, I knew some oxen, with their yokes on their necks, to accomplish sixty miles in four hours.

On another occasion, on the eastern shores of the Vermilion Sea, I witnessed an estampede, and, returning twelve days afterwards, I found the animals still lying in every direction on the prairie, although much recovered from their fatigue. On this last occasion, the prairie had been burnt for three hundred miles, from east to west, and there is no doubt but that the animals had estampedoed the whole distance at the utmost of their speed.

Our horses having quite recovered from their past fatigue, we started at a brisk canter, under the beams of a genial sun, and soon felt the warm blood stirring in our veins. We had proceeded about six or seven miles, skirting the edge of the mass of buffaloes reclining on the prairie, when we witnessed a scene which filled us with pity. Fourteen hungry wolves, reeling and staggering with weakness, were attacking a splendid black stallion, which was so exhausted, that he could not get up upon his legs. His neck and sides were already covered with wounds, and his agony was terrible. Now, the horse is too noble an animal not to find a protector in man against such bloodthirsty foes; so we dismounted and despatched the whole of his assailants; but as the poor stallion was wounded beyond all cure, and would indubitably have fallen a prey to another pack of his prairie foes, we also despatched him with a shot of a rifle. It was an act of humanity, but still the destruction of this noble animal in the wilderness threw a gloom over our spirits. The doctor perceiving this, thought it advisable to enliven us with the following story:—

"All the New York amateurs of oysters know well the most jovial tavern-keeper in the world, old Slick Bradley, the owner of the 'Franklin,' in Pearl-street. When you go to New York, mind to call upon him, and if you have any relish for a cool sangaree, a mint jullep, or a savoury oyster-soup, none can make it better than Slick Bradley. Besides, his bar is snug, his little busy wife neat and polite, and if you are inclined to a spree, his private rooms up-stairs are comfortable as can be.

"Old Slick is good-humoured and always laughing; proud of his cellar, of his house, of his wife, and, above all, proud of the sign-post hanging before his door; that is to say, a yellow head of Franklin, painted by some bilious chap, who looked in the glass for a model.

"Now Slick has kept house for more than forty years, and though he has made up a pretty round sum, he don't wish to leave off the business. No! till the day of his death he will remain in his bar, smoking his Havannahs, and mechanically playing with the two pocket-books in his deep waistcoat pockets—one for the ten-dollar notes and above, the other for the fives, and under. Slick Bradley is the most independent man in the world; he jokes familiarly with his customers, and besides their bill of fare, he knows how to get more of their money by betting, for betting is the great passion of Slick; he will bet any thing, upon every thing: contradict him in what he says, and down come the two pocket-books under your nose. 'I know better,' he will say, 'don't I? What will you bet—five, ten, fifty, hundred? Tush! you dare not bet, you know you are wrong:' and with an air of superiority and self-satisfaction, he will take long strides over his well-washed floor, repeating, 'I know better.'

"Slick used once to boast that he had never lost a bet; but since a little incident which made all New York laugh at him, he confesses that he did once meet with his match, for though he certainly won the bet, he had paid the stakes fifty times over. Now, as I heard the circumstance from the jolly landlord himself; here it goes, just as I had it, neither more nor less.

"One day, two smart young fellows entered the 'Franklin;' they alighted from a cab, and were dressed in the tip-top of fashion. As they were new customers, the landlord was all smiles and courtesy, conducted them into saloon Number 1, and making it up in his mind that his guests could be nothing less than Wall-street superfines, he resolved that they should not complain of his fare.

"A splendid dinner was served to them, with sundry bottles of old wines and choice Havannahs, and the worthy host was reckoning in his mind all the items he could decently introduce in the bill, when ding, ding went the bell, and away he goes up-stairs, capering, jumping, smiling, and holding his two hands before his bow-window in front.

"'Eh, old Slick,' said one of the sparks, 'capital dinner, by Jove; good wine, fine cigars; plenty of customers, eh!'

"Slick winked; he was in all his glory, proud and happy.

"'Nothing better in life than a good dinner,' resumed the spark Number 1; 'some eat only to live—they are fools; I live only to eat, that is the true philosophy. Come, old chap, let us have your bill, and mind, make it out as for old customers, for we intend to return often; don't we?'

"This last part of the sentence was addressed to spark Number 2, who, with his legs comfortably over the corner of the table, was picking his teeth with his fork.

"'I shall, by jingo!' slowly drawled out Number 2, 'dine well here! damned comfortable; nothing wanted but the Champagne.'

"'Lord, Lord! gentlemen,' exclaimed Slick, 'why did you not say so? Why, I have the best in town.'

"'Faith, have you?' said Number 1, smacking his lips; 'now have you the real genuine stuff? Why then bring a bottle, landlord, and you must join us; bring three glasses; by Jove, we will drink your health.'

"When Slick returned, he found his customers in high glee, and so convulsive was their merriment, that they were obliged to hold their sides. Slick laughed too, yet losing no time; in a moment, he presented the gentlemen with the sparkling liquor. They took their glasses, drank his health, and then recommenced their mirth.

"'And so you lost the wager?' asked Number 2.

"'Yes, by Heaven, I paid the hundred dollars, and, what was worse, was laughed at by every body.'

"Slick was sadly puzzled, the young men had been laughing, they were now talking of a bet, and he knew nothing of it. He was mightily inquisitive; and knowing, by experience, that wine opens the heart and unlooses the tongue, he made an attempt to ascertain the cause of the merriment.

"'I beg your pardon, gentlemen, if I make too bold; but please, what was the subject of the wager the recollection of which puts you in so good a humour?'

"'I'll tell you,' exclaimed Number 1, 'and you will see what a fool I have made of myself. You must know that it is impossible to follow the pendulum of the clock with the hand, and to repeat "Here she goes—there she goes," just as it swings to and fro, that is, when people are talking all round you, as it puts you out. One day I was with a set of jolly fellows in a dining-room, with a clock just like this in your room; the conversation fell upon the difficulty of going on "Here she goes," and "there she goes," for half an hour, without making a mistake. Well, I thought it was the easiest thing in the world, to do it: and, upon my saying so, I was defied to do it: the consequence was a bet of a hundred dollars, and, having agreed that they could talk to me as much as they pleased, but not touch me, I posted myself before the clock and went on—"Here she goes, there she goes," while some of my companions began singing, some shouting, and some laughing. Well, after three minutes, I felt that the task was much more difficult than I had expected; but yet I went on, till I heard somebody saying, "As I am alive, there is Miss Reynolds walking arm in arm with that lucky dog, Jenkins." Now you must know, landlord, that Miss Reynolds was my sweetheart, and Jenkins my greatest enemy, so I rushed to the window to see if it was true, and at that moment a roar of laughter announced to me that I had lost the bet.'

"Now Slick Bradley, as I have said, was very fond of betting. Moreover, he prided himself not a little upon his self-command, and as he had not any mistress to be jealous of, as soon as the gentleman had finished his story, he came at once to the point.

"'Well,' said he, 'you lost the wager, but it don't signify. I think myself, as you did, that it is the easiest thing in the world. I am sure I could do it half an hour, aye, and an hour too.'

"The gentlemen laughed, and said they knew better, and the now-excited host proposed, if the liberty did not offend them, to make any bet that he could do it for half an hour. At first they objected, under the plea that they would not like to win his money, as they were certain he had no chance, but upon his insisting, they consented to bet twenty dollars; and Slick, putting himself face to face with his great grandfather's clock, began following the pendulum with his hand, repeating 'Here she goes, there she goes.'

"The two gentlemen discovered many wonderful things through the window: first a sailor had murdered a woman, next the stage had just capsized, and afterwards they were sure that the shop next door was on fire. Slick winked and smiled complacently, without leaving his position. He was too old a fox to be taken by such childish tricks. All at once, Number 2 observed to Number 1, that the bet would not keep good, as the stakes had not been laid down, and both addressed the host at the same time. 'Not cunning enough for me,' thought Slick, and poking his left hand into the right pocket of his waistcoat, he took out his pocket-book containing the larger notes, and handed it to his customers.

"'Now,' exclaimed Number 2 to his companion, 'I am sure you will lose the wager; the fellow is imperturbable; nothing can move him.'

"'Wait a bit; I'll soon make him leave off,' whispered the other, loud enough for Slick to hear him.

"'Landlord,' continued he, 'we trust to your honour to go on for half an hour; we will now have a talk with bonny Mrs Slick.' Saying this, they quitted the room without closing the door.

"Slick was not jealous. Not he; besides, the bar was full of people; it was all a trick of the gents, who were behind the door watching him. After all they were but novices, and he would win their money, he only regretted that the bet had not been heavier.

"Twenty minutes had fairly passed, when Slick's own little boy entered the room. 'Pa,' said he, 'there is a gemman what wants you below in the bar.'

"'Another trick,' thought the landlord; 'they shan't have me, though.— Here she goes, there she goes.' And as the boy approached near to him to repeat his errand, Slick gave him a kick. 'Get away—Here she goes, there she goes.'