OCR Text |
Show CHAPTER XIX. PASSAGE OF THE 1\IOUNTAINS. '' Dear Nature is the kindest mother still, Though always changing, in her aspect mild; From her bare bosom let me take my fill, Her never weaned, though not her favored child. 0, she is fairest in her features wild, When nothing polished dares poll ute her path ; On me by day and night s!Je ever smiled, Though I have marked her where none other hath, And sought her more and more, and loved her best in wrath." CHILDE HAROLD. WHEN I took leave of Shaw at La Bonte's camp, I promised that I would meet him at Fort Laramie on the first of August. That day, accordiqg to my reckoning, was now close at hand. It was impossible, at best, to fulfil my engagement exactly, and my meeting with him must have been postponed until many days after the appointed time, had not the plans of the Indians very well coincided with my own. They, too, intended to pass the mountains and move toward the fort. To do so at this pm· nt was r·m poss1' bl e, b ecause there was no opem· ng '· and in or de r to fi nd a passage we were obli.g ed to go twe 1v e or fourte.e n miles southward. Late in the afternoon the camp got in motwn, PASSAGE OF THE MOUN'fAINS. 313 defiling back through the mountains along the same narrow passage by which they had entered. I rode in company with three or four young [ndians at the rear, and the moving swarm stretched before me, in the ruddy light of sunset, ~r in the deep shadow of the mountains, far beyond my sight. It was an illomened spot they chose to encamp upon. When they were there just a year before, a. war-party of ten men, led by the .Whil'lwind's son, had gone out against the enemy, and not one had ever returned. This was the immediate cause of this season's warlike preparations. I was not a little astonished when I came to the c.amp, at the confusion of horrible sounds' with which it was filled; howls, shrieks, and wailings were heard from all the women present, many of whom, not content with this exhibition of grief for the loss of their fi·iends and relatives, were gashing their legs deeply with knives. A warrior in the village, who had lost a brother in the expedition, chose another mode of displaying his sorrow. The Indians, who though often rapacious, are utterly devoid of avarice, are accustomed in times of mourning, or on other solemn occasions . ' to g1ve away the whole of their possessions, and reduce them-selves to nakedness and want. The warrior in question led his two best horses into the centre of the village, and gave them away to his friends; upon which, songs and acclamations in praise of his generosity mingled with the cries of the women. On the next mo rnm· g we entere d once more among t h e mountains · There was no thm' g I. n t h e1. r appearance er.t 11 er grand or picturesque, though they were desolate to the last degree bei · . ' ng mere p1les of black and broken rocks, wrthout trees or veg et a f 1on of any kind. As we passed among them alongawide va II ey, I noti. ced Raymond riding by t'h e si.d e of a 14 |