Читать книгу Adventures of Big-Foot Wallace (Illustrated Edition) - John Crittenden Duval - Страница 15
ОглавлениеGOLD—INDIAN SMOKES—COMANCHE UNEASY—CAPTURED BY THE INDIANS—MYSTERIOUS MOVEMENTS—THE OLD SQUAW—WHAT NEXT?
November 21st.—Clear and cool. After breakfast I crossed the creek and went on five or six miles, through the most singular-looking country I ever saw. At a little distance, a person would have supposed on approaching it that it was a level plain, but on nearer inspection, though there were no hills or elevations of any size in it, he would have found the whole surface broken and ruptured as if by an earthquake, and seamed with deep gulches and cañons that interlaced and crossed each other at all sorts of angles. I had more difficulty in making my way over these five or six miles than I ever had experienced elsewhere in the same distance. I noticed in the bottoms of many of these gulches a great deal of quartz rock and black sand, which I had been told indicated the presence of gold, and I determined, from mere curiosity, that I would “prospect” a little in one of the gulches, and see if I could not find some of the precious metal itself. I followed one of them down several hundred yards, and amongst a pile of broken rocks and gravel, thrown together by the violence of the torrent that rushed along the bed of the gulch in rainy weather, I picked up three pieces of pure gold, the largest of which weighed nearly a quarter of an ounce.
I have often thought since that, some time or other, I would return to that place and “prospect” it thoroughly, but something has always prevented me from doing so. However, I am determined, just as soon as I can, that I will explore that region of country. I can find it again readily, I know, and I feel confident, from the little examination I made when there, that gold exists there in abundance.
After leaving this locality, I struck a fine open prairie country, through which I travelled without difficulty for twelve or fifteen miles, when I came to a heavily timbered bottom on a considerable stream, which I have since supposed was the Leon.
I saw half a dozen “Indian smokes” on the way, and once I crossed a considerable trail, which was quite fresh. I pitched camp on the edge of the bottom, under the shelter of a spreading live-oak. After dark, Comanche appeared to be very uneasy and watchful. He woke me several times during the night, snuffling and growling, but I paid no particular attention to his movements, supposing his watchfulness was owing to the presence of wolves or other animals in the vicinity of the camp.
About daylight, I was suddenly roused by his furious barking, and looking up, I was horrified to see a dozen Indians coming rapidly toward me, and not more than forty or fifty yards distant. I always slept with my gun by my side, and I seized it instantly, and sprang behind the tree under which I had been sleeping. As I did so, I saw that I was completely surrounded by Indians, and that there was no chance of making my escape. I resolved, however, to sell my life as dearly as I could, and as the circle of warriors drew closer and closer in upon me, I kept dodging from one side of the tree to the other, keeping my gun pointed all the time toward those that were nearest to me. Presently one of the Indians, who I supposed was the chief, said something in a loud voice to the balance, and they all halted. He then advanced a few steps toward me, and asked, in the Mexican language, “who I was, and what I was doing there?” I had picked up a smattering of Mexican after I came out of Texas, and by signs and such phrases as I knew, I told him I was an American, that I had got lost from my party, and was on my way back to the “settlements.” He then made signs to me to put down my gun, which I did, for I saw plainly that resistance was hopeless against such numbers, and I thought if I surrendered it was possible they might spare my life. As soon as I laid my gun upon the ground, the chief came up and took possession of it, and then calling to the rest, they all advanced, and one of them seized my hands and bound them firmly with deer thongs behind my back.
Bitterly did I regret that I had not fought it out with them to the last, instead of surrendering, but it was then too late to repent, and I made up my mind to meet my fate, whatever it might be, with as much courage as I could “screw up” for the occasion. Comanche, however, with less discretion than valor, “pitched into” the whole crowd while they were tying my hands, and it was only after they had kicked him and beaten him severely with their spear-handles, that he gave up the contest and retired to a safe distance in the rear.
As soon as my hands were tied, the chief ordered one of the Indians to pick up my shot-pouch and other equipments, and we all started off at a brisk walk up the river, keeping a little trail just outside of the timbered bottom.
We had travelled in this way, I suppose, four or five miles, when the Indians gave three or four loud whoops, which were answered by similar whoops apparently about half a mile ahead, and in a little while we came in sight of the lodges of a large encampment. When within a short distance of the encampment, a mixed crowd of old men, women, and boys came out to meet us, who soon surrounded me in a dense mass, screaming, yelling and hooting, and calling me, I suppose, all sorts of hard names, but of course I couldn’t understand their “lingo.” I was glad when my guard took me away from them and carried me into one of the lodges, where they untied my hands and made signs for me to sit down.
I took a seat on one of the skins scattered over the floor, in no very pleasant frame of mind, as you may well imagine, for I was pretty well satisfied, from the manner in which I had been treated by the Indians since they captured me, that they intended to put me to death. In a little while an old squaw came into the lodge, bringing with her some buffalo-meat and a gourd of water, which she put down by me, and made signs to me to eat and drink; but I had no appetite, and merely took a drink of the water.
I could only see imperfectly what was going on outside of the lodge, but I knew from the whooping and yelling, and the running to and fro, that something was up, and I was very much afraid that my arrival had a good deal to do with it. However, everything quieted down in an hour or so.
A strong guard was placed at night around the lodge in which I was confined, and this confirmed me in my suspicions that foul play was intended me, and at the same time precluded all hope of escape. My reflections during that night were anything but agreeable, as may well be supposed, and my sleep was broken and disturbed.
About sunrise the next morning, the old squaw came into the lodge again with some provisions, which she placed near me on the floor, and she then seated herself and looked at me a long time without saying a word. After a while, she took one of my hands in her wrinkled paws, and rubbed and patted it all the time humming, in a sort of “bumble-bee tone” one of the most mournful ditties I ever heard. At length, she got up to leave, but before she did so she tried very hard by signs to make me comprehend something she wished to say, but I couldn’t understand what it was. She was as wrinkled and ugly as an old witch, but still there was something benevolent and kind about her features, that made me think she would willingly befriend me if she had it in her power.
Not long after she had left the lodge, I heard a great “pow-wowing” outside, and then the most terrible racket commenced I ever listened to, yelling, whooping, and beating of drums, and rattling of gourds and the large shields made of dry hides, hung around with bears’ tusks and pieces of metal, which the Indians make use of to stampede horses when on their stealing expeditions. In a few moments after the row commenced, several warriors came into the lodge, and one of them proceeded to blacken my face and hands with a mixture he had in an earthen vessel. When they had painted me in this way, they made signs to me to follow them, which I did very unwillingly, for I had no doubt they were going to put me to death, with all the tortures to which I had been told the Indians usually subject those who are so unfortunate as to be made prisoners by them.
