DEPARTURE FOR THE PAWNEES.—PRAIRIE LIFE.

Several weeks had elapsed, since our arrival at the garrison; yet the other commissioner had not made his appearance. Mr. Ellsworth determined, therefore, to set out without him for the Pawnee villages. The state of the garrison, enfeebled by sickness, did not allow of a sufficient escort to overawe the savages. He therefore took the bold alternative of throwing himself among them, in a manner unarmed, piquing their honour and hospitality by this mark of confidence.

Seven soldiers constituted the whole of the military escort: merely sufficient to protect us from any petty, prowling band.

The two servants, Mordecai and Joseph, who had hitherto accompanied us, were to have charge of the two light waggons—in which were packed our bedding, baggage, and camp furniture. We had also engaged the service of a negro as cook.

Our own mess was increased by the addition of Major Dougherty from St. Louis, the agent for the Pawnee Indians, and Dr. May, a surgeon resident in Missouri.

On the morning previous to the day of departure, the soldiers commenced loading two heavy ox waggons with kegs of gunpowder, barrels of flour, sacks of bacon, tents and cooking utensils, besides boxes and bales containing presents for the Indians. Towards evening, a cessation of swearing in the neighbourhood of the storehouse, gave token that the task was accomplished. In the course of an hour, half a dozen oxen were yoked before each waggon, and conducted by two wild teamsters. They departed under escort of the seven soldiers. The whole were to encamp on a small stream a few miles distant, and await our coming. Our party, six in number, were to follow their trail on horseback on the succeeding morning.

The sun rose cheerily over the tops of the trees on the day following, and we prepared to leave. There was quite an excitement in the garrison. Kind wishes and farewells were exchanged. Many who had been anxious to join the troop, in their journey through this unknown land, now hung round with longing eyes. There was a mystery and shadowy danger, which threw a high excitement around the whole expedition. Nothing was positive about the wild tribes we were to visit. It was known that their numbers were large; it was reported that they were cruel and unsparing in their nature, that they looked upon the whites as their bitterest enemies, and carried on a war of extermination against the whole race. By way of adding to the agreeable excitement, two or three had collected all the tales of murder and bloodshed committed by the Indians since the discovery of America, and poured them into our ears, with a most edifying accompaniment of long faces and evil prophecies. They foretold that we should never again be seen at Leavenworth; or, at all events, that if we did it would be stripped of our scalps. They thought, as these were the most desirable trophies, perhaps the Indians would have the generosity to permit our return, provided we left them behind. These, and many other predictions of an equally comforting nature, were conveyed to us by a number who buzzed around us as we were getting ready. They, however, at last took their leave, not forgetting to give us the rather unnecessary caution, to “take care and not get killed.”

It was near mid-day when we set out. Our little cavalcade clattered over the hard walks until we reached the road. Galloping over the prairie, we at length came upon the broad trail left by the heavy baggage waggons, as they had passed through the high grass.

A number of the officers accompanied us several miles, but at length they took their leave, and left us to journey onward in our pilgrimage. As long as we were in the garrison, where the busy face of man was seen, where active forms were moving around us, and the every-day concerns of life were going forward, we felt that, though distant from home, we were still connected with society; but when we had started on our journey, and bade farewell to those who had accompanied us, as we watched their forms until they were hid by the distant hills, we felt that the last link was broken, which had hitherto united us to the world and its occupations.

It was intended first to strike up in a northerly direction, until we reached the village of the Otoe and Missouria Indians, situated upon the Platte river, about twenty miles north-west of its junction with the Missouri. Thence the Platte was to be our guide, until we came upon the Pawnee towns. They are seated on its banks, some five or six days’ journey further to the westward.

During our stay at the garrison a change had come over the face of nature. The bright and luxurious summer flowers had disappeared; a growth of yellow and blue, the harbingers of the departing year, supplied their places. Here and there might be seen a single red flower, the survivor of those which had flourished in the summer, shooting up its head amidst clusters of golden-hued blossoms, still lingering, though a stranger among them. The deep richness of foliage which graced the trees had departed, and the brown tinge of autumn was creeping among the leaves. The bright soft green was disappearing from the prairie grass, giving place to a colour of greenish brown. The geese and pelicans had left their lives of solitude, and forming themselves into large flocks, were winging their way to the north; the wind swept over the rustling grass with a moaning sound that spoke strongly of the approach of winter.

At this season we commenced our travel. It was late in the afternoon when we reached the spot where the soldiers had encamped. It was on the side of a small prairie hill. Within a few yards of their tents, a scanty run of water stole through the grass; and at the distance of about a hundred yards stood a grove of timber, which supplied the fuel necessary for their night fires.

There is but little variety on the prairie. The life of one day is the life of a month; yet there is an excitement about it. The killing of a deer is an era in the day. The appearance of a hunter upon a distant hill would give birth to a thousand speculations, as to his success in the chase. The sight of a deer standing upon an eminence, or reclining in some hollow, was a signal for bustle. There was an intense interest excited, in watching the movements of the hunters, as they stole down upon him. As they drew near every eye was fixed, even the breath was restrained: the animal scents them in the tainted air; the hunters crouch in the tall grass and creep onward; the deer rises to his feet; his nose is raised high in the air; he begins to walk off. Now is the time! Crack!—sounds the rifle. In five minutes, he is far beyond sight, or two hunters are staggering beneath his weight, as they bring him to the camp.

The sight of foot prints in the grass would be the foundation of a hundred wild fancies. By whom were they made? by members of what tribe? were they friends or foes? where were they going? was it a war party or a hunting party? These and a hundred other conjectures would be offered, by a knot collected around the suspicious mark, denoting that others besides ourselves had passed in that direction, and that we were not the only beings wandering upon that waste.