The Arkansas at this point, and for several hundred miles below, is nothing but a broad sand-bed, over which a few scanty threads of water are swiftly gliding, now and then expanding into wide shallows.
At several places, during the autumn, the water sinks into the sand and disappears altogether.At this season, were it not for the numerous quicksands, the river might be forded almost anywhere without difficulty, though its channel is often a quarter of a mile wide.Our horses jumped down the bank, and wading through the water, or galloping freely over the hard sand-beds, soon reached the other side.Here, as we were pushing through the tall grass, we saw several Indians not far off; one of them waited until we came up, and stood for some moments in perfect silence before us, looking at us askance with his little snakelike eyes.Henry explained by signs what we wanted, and the Indian, gathering his buffalo robe about his shoulders, led the way toward the village without speaking a word.
The language of the Arapahoes is so difficult, and its pronunciations so harsh and guttural, that no white man, it is said, has ever been able to master it.Even Maxwell the trader, who has been most among them, is compelled to resort to the curious sign language common to most of the prairie tribes.With this Henry Chatillon was perfectly acquainted.
Approaching the village, we found the ground all around it strewn with great piles of waste buffalo meat in incredible quantities.The lodges were pitched in a very wide circle.They resembled those of the Dakota in everything but cleanliness and neatness.Passing between two of them, we entered the great circular area of the camp, and instantly hundreds of Indians, men, women and children, came flocking out of their habitations to look at us; at the same time, the dogs all around the village set up a fearful baying.Our Indian guide walked toward the lodge of the chief.Here we dismounted; and loosening the trail-ropes from our horses' necks, held them securely, and sat down before the entrance, with our rifles laid across our laps.The chief came out and shook us by the hand.He was a mean-looking fellow, very tall, thin-visaged, and sinewy, like the rest of the nation, and with scarcely a vestige of clothing.We had not been seated half a minute before a multitude of Indians came crowding around us from every part of the village, and we were shut in by a dense wall of savage faces.Some of the Indians crouched around us on the ground; others again sat behind them; others, stooping, looked over their heads; while many more stood crowded behind, stretching themselves upward, and peering over each other's shoulders, to get a view of us.I looked in vain among this multitude of faces to discover one manly or generous expression; all were wolfish, sinister, and malignant, and their complexions, as well as their features, unlike those of the Dakota, were exceedingly bad.The chief, who sat close to the entrance, called to a squaw within the lodge, who soon came out and placed a wooden bowl of meat before us.
To our surprise, however, no pipe was offered.Having tasted of the meat as a matter of form, I began to open a bundle of presents--tobacco, knives, vermilion, and other articles which I had brought with me.At this there was a grin on every countenance in the rapacious crowd; their eyes began to glitter, and long thin arms were eagerly stretched toward us on all sides to receive the gifts.
The Arapahoes set great value upon their shields, which they transmit carefully from father to son.I wished to get one of them; and displaying a large piece of scarlet cloth, together with some tobacco and a knife, I offered them to any one who would bring me what Iwanted.After some delay a tolerable shield was produced.They were very anxious to know what we meant to do with it, and Henry told them that we were going to fight their enemies, the Pawnees.This instantly produced a visible impression in our favor, which was increased by the distribution of the presents.Among these was a large paper of awls, a gift appropriate to the women; and as we were anxious to see the beauties of the Arapahoe village Henry requested that they might be called to receive them.A warrior gave a shout as if he were calling a pack of dogs together.The squaws, young and old, hags of eighty and girls of sixteen, came running with screams and laughter out of the lodges; and as the men gave way for them they gathered round us and stretched out their arms, grinning with delight, their native ugliness considerably enhanced by the excitement of the moment.
