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Show 434 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF one pint for each buffalo robe. If the robe was an • extra fine one, I might possibly open my heart, and give two pints. But I felt no particular inducement to liberality in my dealings, for I thought the greatest kindness I could show my customers was to withhold the commodity entirely. Before I had got through with my keg I had a row with an Indian, which cost him his life on ~he spot. While I was busy in attending the tap, a tall Sioux warrior came into my establishment, already the worse for liquor, which he had obtained elsewhere. He made some formidable strides round and near me, and then inquired for the Crow. I was pointed out to him, and, pot valiant, he swaggered up to me. " You are a Crow ?" he exclaimed. "Yes." "You are a great Crow brave?" "Yes." "You have killed a host of Siouxs ?" "No; I have killed a host of Cheyennes, but I have only killed fourteen Siouxs with my own hand." " Loo~ at me," said he, with drunken gasconade ; "my arm is strong; I am the greatest brave in the Sioux nation. Now come out, and I will kill you." " No," I said, " I did not come here to be killed · or to kill ; I carne here to trade. I could kill you as easily as I could kill a squaw, but you know that you have a host of warriors here, while I am alone. They would kill me after I had killed you. But if I should come in sight of your village with twenty of my Crow warriors, you would all run and leave your lodges, women, and children. Go away; I want nothing to do with you. Your tongue is strong, but you · are no brave." , ' JAMES P. BECKWOURTH. 435 I had told the Cheyennes but a few moments previously that I had been among all the nations in the country, and that it had ever been my invariable rule, when struck by a Red Man, to kill him. I was determined to prove the truth of my declaration in this instance. I had my battle-axe hanging from my wrist, and I was ready at a moment's warning. The Sioux continued his abuse of me in his own tongue, which I paid no attention to, for I supposed that, like his white brethren, he might utter a great deal of provocation in his cups, and straightway repent it when he became sober. Finally, he became so importunate that I saw it was time to take an active part. I said, "You want to kill me, eh ?" I would fight with you, only I know I should be killed by the Siouxs afterward, and I should have you for my waiter in the spirit land. I would rather kill a good brave, if I kill any." This was a very opprobrious speech, for it is their faith that when an Indian is slain who has previously slain a foe, the first-killed warrior becomes waiter in the spirit land to the one who had laid him low. Indeed, it was more than he could endure. He jerked off the cloth that was fastened round his hips, and struck me in the face with it. I grasped my battleaxe, but the blow I aimed was arrested by a lodge pole, which impended over his head, and saved him from immediate death. The lodge pole was nearly severed with the blow. I raised my arm again, but it was restrained by the Cheyennes, who had been sitting round with their heads declined during the Sioux's previous abuse. The Sioux chief, Bull Bear, was standing near, and was acquainted with the whole particulars of the diffi- ' |
