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Show • 272 THE CALIFORNIA AND OREGON TRA IL . no sound that I have ever heard, .except perhaps the fi·ightfol howling of wolves that we used sometimes to hear, lana after. 5 ward} when descending the Arkansas on the trail of Gen. Kearney's army. The canine uproar is, if possi ble, more .dj 9 • cordant than that of the wolves. I-Ieard at a distance slowly Tising on the night, it has a strange unearthly effect, and wou'ld fearfully haunt the dreams of a nervous man ; but when you are sleeping in the midst of it, the din is outrageous. One long loud howl from the next lodge perhaps begins it, and voice after voice takes up the sound, till it passes around the whole circumference of the village, and the air is .filled with confused and discordant cries, at once fierce and mournful. It lasts but for a moment, and then dies away into silence. Morning came, and Kongra-Tonga, mounting his horse, rode out with the hunters. It may not be amiss to glance at him for an instant in his domestic character of husband and father. Both he and his squaw, like most other Indians, were very fond of their children, whom they indulged to excess, and never punished, except in extreme cases, when they would throw a bowl of cold water over them. Their offspring became sufficiently undutiful and disobedient under this system of education, which tends not a little to foster that wild idea of liberty and utter intolerance of restraint which lie at the very foundation of the Indian character. It would be hard to find a fonder father than Kongra-Tonga~ There was one urchin in particular, rather less than two feet high, to whom he was exceeding} y attached ; and sometimes spreading a buffalo-robe in the lodge, he would seat himself upon it, place his small favorite upright before him, and chant in a low tone some of the THE HUNTING CAMP. 273 wor ds use d as an accompaniment to the war-dance. The little fellow, who could just manage to balance himself by stretching out both arms, would lift his feet and turn slowly round and round in time to his father's music, while my host would laugh with delight, and look smiling up into my face to see if I were adm i rina this precocious performance of his offspring. In hjs 5 capacity of husband he was somewhat l~ss exemplary. The squaw who lived in the lodge with him had been his partner for many years. She took good care of his children and his household concerns. I-Ie liked her well enough, and as far as I could see, they never quarrelled ; but all his warmer affec~ tions .were reserved for younger and more recent favorites. Ofthese he had at present only one, who lived in a lodge apart from his own. One day while in his camp, he became displeased with her, pushed her out, threw after her her ornaments, dresses, and every thing she had, and told her to go home to her father. I-Iaving consummated this summary divorce, for which he could show good reasons, he came back, seated himself in his usual place, and began to smoke with an air of the utmost tranquillity and self-satisfaction. I was sitting in the lodge with hi1n on that very afternoon, when I felt some curiosity to learn the history of the numerous scars that appeared on his naked body. Of some of them, however, I did not venture to inquire, for I already undeTstood their origin. Each of his arms was marked as if deeply gashed with a knife at regular intervals, and there were otheT scars also, of a different character on his back and on either breast. . ' They Were the traces of those formidable tortures which these Indians, in common with a few other tribes, inflict upon themselves ·at certain seasons; in part, it may be, to gain the glory 12* |