They
Could Not, However, Be Persuaded To Depart From Their Usual
Custom.
The horse once picketed, the care of the owner was over
for the night, and he slept profoundly.
None waked in the camp
but the gamblers, who, absorbed in their play, were more
difficult to be roused to external circumstances than even the
sleepers.
The Blackfeet are bold enemies, and fond of hazardous exploits.
The band that were hovering about the neighborhood, finding that
they had such pacific people to deal with, redoubled their
daring. The horses being now picketed before the lodges, a number
of Blackfeet scouts penetrated in the early part of the night
into the very centre of the camp. Here they went about among the
lodges as calmly and deliberately as if at home, quietly cutting
loose the horses that stood picketed by the lodges of their
sleeping owners. One of these prowlers, more adventurous than the
rest, approached a fire round which a group of Nez Perces were
gambling with the most intense eagerness. Here he stood for some
time, muffled up in his robe, peering over the shoulders of the
players, watching the changes of their countenances and the
fluctuations of the game. So completely engrossed were they, that
the presence of this muffled eaves-dropper was unnoticed and,
having executed his bravado, he retired undiscovered.
Having cut loose as many horses as they could conveniently carry
off, the Blackfeet scouts rejoined their comrades, and all
remained patiently round the camp. By degrees the horses, finding
themselves at liberty, took their route toward their customary
grazing ground. As they emerged from the camp they were silently
taken possession of, until, having secured about thirty, the
Blackfeet sprang on their backs and scampered off. The clatter of
hoofs startled the gamblers from their game. They gave the alarm,
which soon roused the sleepers from every lodge. Still all was
quiescent; no marshalling of forces, no saddling of steeds and
dashing off in pursuit, no talk of retribution for their repeated
outrages. The patience of Captain Bonneville was at length
exhausted. He had played the part of a pacificator without
success; he now altered his tone, and resolved, if possible, to
rouse their war spirit.
Accordingly, convoking their chiefs, he inveighed against their
craven policy, and urged the necessity of vigorous and
retributive measures that would check the confidence and
presumption of their enemies, if not inspire them with awe. For
this purpose, he advised that a war party should be immediately
sent off on the trail of the marauders, to follow them, if
necessary, into the very heart of the Blackfoot country, and not
to leave them until they had taken signal vengeance. Beside this,
he recommended the organization of minor war parties, to make
reprisals to the extent of the losses sustained. "Unless you
rouse yourselves from your apathy," said he, "and strike some
bold and decisive blow, you will cease to be considered men, or
objects of manly warfare. The very squaws and children of the
Blackfeet will be set against you, while their warriors reserve
themselves for nobler antagonists."
This harangue had evidently a momentary effect upon the pride of
the hearers. After a short pause, however, one of the orators
arose. It was bad, he said, to go to war for mere revenge. The
Great Spirit had given them a heart for peace, not for war. They
had lost horses, it was true, but they could easily get others
from their cousins, the Lower Nez Perces, without incurring any
risk; whereas, in war they should lose men, who were not so
readily replaced. As to their late losses, an increased
watchfulness would prevent any more misfortunes of the kind. He
disapproved, therefore, of all hostile measures; and all the
other chiefs concurred in his opinion.
Captain Bonneville again took up the point. "It is true," said
he, "the Great Spirit has given you a heart to love your friends;
but he has also given you an arm to strike your enemies. Unless
you do something speedily to put an end to this continual
plundering, I must say farewell. As yet I have sustained no loss;
thanks to the precautions which you have slighted; but my
property is too unsafe here; my turn will come next; I and my
people will share the contempt you are bringing upon yourselves,
and will be thought, like you, poor-spirited beings, who may at
any time be plundered with impunity."
The conference broke up with some signs of excitement on the part
of the Indians. Early the next morning, a party of thirty men set
off in pursuit of the foe, and Captain Bonneville hoped to hear a
good account of the Blackfeet marauders. To his disappointment,
the war party came lagging back on the following day, leading a
few old, sorry, broken-down horses, which the free-booters had
not been able to urge to sufficient speed. This effort exhausted
the martial spirit, and satisfied the wounded pride of the Nez
Perces, and they relapsed into their usual state of passive
indifference.
13.
Story of Kosato, the Renegade Blackfoot.
IF the meekness and long-suffering of the Pierced-noses grieved
the spirit of Captain Bonneville, there was another individual in
the camp to whom they were still more annoying. This was a
Blackfoot renegado, named Kosato, a fiery hot-blooded youth who,
with a beautiful girl of the same tribe, had taken refuge among
the Nez Perces. Though adopted into the tribe, he still
retained the warlike spirit of his race, and loathed the
peaceful, inoffensive habits of those around him. The hunting of
the deer, the elk, and the buffalo, which was the height of their
ambition, was too tame to satisfy his wild and restless nature.
His heart burned for the foray, the ambush, the skirmish, the
scamper, and all the haps and hazards of roving and predatory
warfare.
The recent hoverings of the Blackfeet about the camp, their
nightly prowls and daring and successful marauds, had kept him in
a fever and a flutter, like a hawk in a cage who hears his late
companions swooping and screaming in wild liberty above him.
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