He Still Retained His Fatal And Mysterious Secret, And With It
His Terrific Power; But, Though Able To Deal Death To His
Enemies, He Could Not Avert It From Himself Or His Friends.
In
1802 the small-pox, that dreadful pestilence, which swept over
the land like a fire over the prairie, made its appearance in the
village of the Omahas.
The poor savages saw with dismay the
ravages of a malady, loathsome and agonizing in its details, and
which set the skill and experience of their conjurors and
medicine men at defiance. In a little while, two thirds of the
population were swept from the face of the earth, and the doom of
the rest seemed sealed. The stoicism of the warriors was at an
end; they became wild and desperate; some set fire to the village
as a last means of checking the pestilence; others, in a frenzy
of despair, put their wives and children to death, that they
might be spared the agonies of an inevitable disease, and that
they might all go to some better country.
When the general horror and dismay was at its height, the
Blackbird himself was struck down with the malady. The poor
savages, when they saw their chief in danger, forgot their own
miseries, and surrounded his dying bed. His dominant spirit, and
his love for the white men, were evinced in his latest breath,
with which he designated his place of sepulture. It was to be on
a hill or promontory, upwards of four hundred feet in height,
overlooking a great extent of the Missouri, from whence he had
been accustomed to watch for the barks of the white men.
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