Warming With The Theme, And
Inflating Themselves With Their Own Eulogies, These Magnanimous
Heroes Of The Trencher Would Start Up,
Advance a short distance
beyond the light of the fire, and apostrophize most vehemently
their Blackfeet enemies, as though they
Had been within hearing.
Ruffling, and swelling, and snorting, and slapping their breasts,
and brandishing their arms, they would vociferate all their
exploits; reminding the Blackfeet how they had drenched their
towns in tears and blood; enumerate the blows they had inflicted,
the warriors they had slain, the scalps they had brought off in
triumph. Then, having said everything that could stir a man's
spleen or pique his valor, they would dare their imaginary
hearers, now that the Bannacks were few in number, to come and
take their revenge - receiving no reply to this valorous bravado,
they would conclude by all kinds of sneers and insults, deriding
the Blackfeet for dastards and poltroons, that dared not accept
their challenge. Such is the kind of swaggering and rhodomontade
in which the "red men" are prone to indulge in their vainglorious
moments; for, with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are
vehemently prone at times to become eloquent about their
exploits, and to sound their own trumpet.
Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the
Bannack braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests,
smoothed their ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to sleep,
without placing a single guard over their camp; so that, had the
Blackfeet taken them at their word, but few of these braggart
heroes might have survived for any further boasting.
On the following morning, Captain Bonneville purchased a supply
of buffalo meat from his braggadocio friends; who, with all their
vaporing, were in fact a very forlorn horde, destitute of
firearms, and of almost everything that constitutes riches in
savage life. The bargain concluded, the Bannacks set off for
their village, which was situated, they said, at the mouth of the
Portneuf, and Captain Bonneville and his companions shaped their
course toward Snake River.
Arrived on the banks of that river, he found it rapid and
boisterous, but not too deep to be forded. In traversing it,
however, one of the horses was swept suddenly from his footing,
and his rider was flung from the saddle into the midst of the
stream. Both horse and horseman were extricated without any
damage, excepting that the latter was completely drenched, so
that it was necessary to kindle a fire to dry him. While they
were thus occupied, one of the party looking up, perceived an
Indian scout cautiously reconnoitring them from the summit of a
neighboring hill. The moment he found himself discovered, he
disappeared behind the hill. From his furtive movements, Captain
Bonneville suspected him to be a scout from the Blackfeet camp,
and that he had gone to report what he had seen to his
companions. It would not do to loiter in such a neighborhood, so
the kindling of the fire was abandoned, the drenched horseman
mounted in dripping condition, and the little band pushed forward
directly into the plain, going at a smart pace, until they had
gained a considerable distance from the place of supposed danger.
Here encamping for the night, in the midst of abundance of sage,
or wormwood, which afforded fodder for their horses, they kindled
a huge fire for the benefit of their damp comrade, and then
proceeded to prepare a sumptuous supper of buffalo humps and
ribs, and other choice bits, which they had brought with them.
After a hearty repast, relished with an appetite unknown to city
epicures, they stretched themselves upon their couches of skins,
and under the starry canopy of heaven, enjoyed the sound and
sweet sleep of hardy and well-fed mountaineers.
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