Starting And Turning Round, He Beheld A Naked Savage
With A Bow Bent, And The Arrow Pointed At His Breast.
In an
instant his gun was leveled and his hand upon the lock.
The
Indian drew his bow still further, but forbore to launch the
shaft. Mr. Bradbury, with admirable presence of mind, reflected
that the savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him
without giving him a chance of defense; he paused, therefore, and
held out his hand. The other took it in sign of friendship, and
demanded in the Osage language whether he was a Big Knife, or
American. He answered in the affirmative, and inquired whether
the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found that he was
a Ponca. By his time two other Indians came running up, and all
three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and seemed disposed to compel him
to go off with them among the hills. He resisted, and sitting
down on a sand hill contrived to amuse them with a pocket
compass. When the novelty of this was exhausted they again seized
him, but he now produced a small microscope. This new wonder
again fixed the attention of the savages, who have more curiosity
than it has been the custom to allow them. While thus engaged,
one of them suddenly leaped up and gave a war-whoop. The hand of
the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was prepared to
make battle, when the Indian pointed down the river and revealed
the true cause of his yell.
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