White Plume (We Are Pleased With His Chivalrous
Soubriquet) Inhabited A Large Stone House, Built For Him By Order
Of The American Government:
But the establishment had not been
carried out in corresponding style.
It might be palace without,
but it was wigwam within; so that, between the stateliness of his
mansion and the squalidness of his furniture, the gallant White
Plume presented some such whimsical incongruity as we see in the
gala equipments of an Indian chief on a treaty-making embassy at
Washington, who has been generously decked out in cocked hat and
military coat, in contrast to his breech-clout and leathern
legging; being grand officer at top, and ragged Indian at bottom.
White Plume was so taken with the courtesy of the captain, and
pleased with one or two presents received from him, that he
accompanied him a day's journey on his march, and passed a night
in his camp, on the margin of a small stream. The method of
encamping generally observed by the captain was as follows: The
twenty wagons were disposed in a square, at the distance of
thirty-three feet from each other. In every interval there was a
mess stationed; and each mess had its fire, where the men cooked,
ate, gossiped, and slept. The horses were placed in the centre of
the square, with a guard stationed over them at night.
The horses were "side lined," as it is termed: that is to say,
the fore and hind foot on the same side of the animal were tied
together, so as to be within eighteen inches of each other. A
horse thus fettered is for a time sadly embarrassed, but soon
becomes sufficiently accustomed to the restraint to move about
slowly. It prevents his wandering; and his being easily carried
off at night by lurking Indians. When a horse that is "foot free"
is tied to one thus secured, the latter forms, as it were, a
pivot, round which the other runs and curvets, in case of alarm.
The encampment of which we are speaking presented a striking
scene. The various mess-fires were surrounded by picturesque
groups, standing, sitting, and reclining; some busied in cooking,
others in cleaning their weapons: while the frequent laugh told
that the rough joke or merry story was going on. In the middle of
the camp, before the principal lodge, sat the two chieftains,
Captain Bonneville and White Plume, in soldier-like communion,
the captain delighted with the opportunity of meeting on social
terms with one of the red warriors of the wilderness, the
unsophisticated children of nature. The latter was squatted on
his buffalo robe, his strong features and red skin glaring in the
broad light of a blazing fire, while he recounted astounding
tales of the bloody exploits of his tribe and himself in their
wars with the Pawnees; for there are no old soldiers more given
to long campaigning stories than Indian "braves."
The feuds of White Plume, however, had not been confined to the
red men; he had much to say of brushes with bee hunters, a class
of offenders for whom he seemed to cherish a particular
abhorrence. As the species of hunting prosecuted by these
worthies is not laid down in any of the ancient books of venerie,
and is, in fact, peculiar to our western frontier, a word or two
on the subject may not be unacceptable to the reader.
The bee hunter is generally some settler on the verge of the
prairies; a long, lank fellow, of fever and ague complexion,
acquired from living on new soil, and in a hut built of green
logs. In the autumn, when the harvest is over, these; frontier
settlers form parties of two or three, and prepare for a bee
hunt. Having provided themselves with a wagon, and a number of
empty casks, they sally off, armed with their rifles, into the
wilderness, directing their course east, west, north, or south,
without any regard to the ordinance of the American government,
which strictly forbids all trespass upon the lands belonging to
the Indian tribes.
The belts of woodland that traverse the lower prairies and border
the rivers are peopled by innumerable swarms of wild bees, which
make their hives in hollow trees and fill them with honey tolled
from the rich flowers of the prairies. The bees, according to
popular assertion, are migrating like the settlers, to the west.
An Indian trader, well experienced in the country, informs us
that within ten years that he has passed in the Far West, the bee
has advanced westward above a hundred miles. It is said on the
Missouri, that the wild turkey and the wild bee go up the river
together: neither is found in the upper regions. It is but
recently that the wild turkey has been killed on the Nebraska, or
Platte; and his travelling competitor, the wild bee, appeared
there about the same time.
Be all this as it may: the course of our party of bee hunters is
to make a wide circuit through the woody river bottoms, and the
patches of forest on the prairies, marking, as they go out, every
tree in which they have detected a hive. These marks are
generally respected by any other bee hunter that should come upon
their track. When they have marked sufficient to fill all their
casks, they turn their faces homeward, cut down the trees as they
proceed, and having loaded their wagon with honey and wax, return
well pleased to the settlements.
Now it so happens that the Indians relish wild honey as highly as
do the white men, and are the more delighted with this natural
luxury from its having, in many instances, but recently made its
appearance in their lands. The consequence is numberless disputes
and conflicts between them and the bee hunters: and often a party
of the latter, returning, laden with rich spoil, from one of
their forays, are apt to be waylaid by the native lords of the
soil; their honey to be seized, their harness cut to pieces, and
themselves left to find their way home the best way they can,
happy to escape with no greater personal harm than a sound
rib-roasting.
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