The Inhabitants Were In Daily Apprehensions Of An Inroad From More
Formidable Consumers Than Ourselves.
Every year at the time when the
corn begins to ripen, the Arapahoes, to the number of several
thousands, come and encamp around the Pueblo.
The handful of white
men, who are entirely at the mercy of this swarm of barbarians,
choose to make a merit of necessity; they come forward very
cordially, shake them by the hand, and intimate that the harvest is
entirely at their disposal. The Arapahoes take them at their word,
help themselves most liberally, and usually turn their horses into
the cornfields afterward. They have the foresight, however, to leave
enough of the crops untouched to serve as an inducement for planting
the fields again for their benefit in the next spring.
The human race in this part of the world is separated into three
divisions, arranged in the order of their merits; white men, Indians,
and Mexicans; to the latter of whom the honorable title of "whites"
is by no means conceded.
In spite of the warm sunset of that evening the next morning was a
dreary and cheerless one. It rained steadily, clouds resting upon
the very treetops. We crossed the river to visit the Mormon
settlement. As we passed through the water, several trappers on
horseback entered it from the other side. Their buckskin frocks were
soaked through by the rain, and clung fast to their limbs with a most
clammy and uncomfortable look. The water was trickling down their
faces, and dropping from the ends of their rifles, and from the traps
which each carried at the pommel of his saddle.
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