The Good Old Chief Immediately
Came To A Halt, And Had A Long Conversation With Them, In The
Course Of Which He Repeated To Them The Whole History Which
Captain Bonneville Had Related To Him.
In fact, he seems to have
been a very sociable, communicative old man; by no means
afflicted with that taciturnity generally charged upon the
Indians.
On the contrary, he was fond of long talks and long
smokings, and evidently was proud of his new friend, the
bald-headed chief, and took a pleasure in sounding his praises,
and setting forth the power and glory of the Big Hearts of the
East.
Having disburdened himself of everything he had to relate to his
bathing friends, he left them to their aquatic disports, and
proceeded onward with the captain and his companions. As they
approached the Way-lee-way, however, the communicative old chief
met with another and a very different occasion to exert his
colloquial powers. On the banks of the river stood an isolated
mound covered with grass. He pointed to it with some emotion.
"The big heart and the strong arm," said he, "lie buried beneath
that sod."
It was, in fact, the grave of one of his friends; a chosen
warrior of the tribe; who had been slain on this spot when in
pursuit of a war party of Shoshokoes, who had stolen the horses
of the village. The enemy bore off his scalp as a trophy; but his
friends found his body in this lonely place, and committed it to
the earth with ceremonials characteristic of their pious and
reverential feelings.
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