University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XIII.

Before the Indians left this camping-ground, there
arrived among us an Indian called Porcupine. He
was well dressed, and mounted on a fine horse, and
brought with him presents and valuables that insured
him a cordial reception.

After he had been a few days in the village, he
gave me a letter from Captain Marshall, of the Eleventh
Ohio Cavalry, detailing the unsuccessful attempts
that had been made to rescue me, and stating that this
friendly Indian had undertaken to bring me back, for
which he would be rewarded.

The letter further said that he had already received
a horse and necessary provisions for the journey, and
had left his three wives, with thirteen others, at the
fort, as hostages.

My feelings, on reading this letter, were indescribable.

My heart leaped with unaccustomed hope, at
this evidence of the efforts of my white friends in my
behalf; but the next instant despair succeeded this
gleam of happy anticipation, for I knew this faithless
messenger would not be true to his promise, since he
had joined the Sioux immediately after his arrival
among them, in a battle against the whites.

My fears were not unfounded. Porcupine prepared
to go back to the fort without me, disregarding my
earnest prayers and entreaties.

The chief found me useful, and determined to keep
me. He believed that a woman who had seen so
much of their deceitfulness and cruelty, could do them
injury at the fort, and might prevent their receiving
annuities.

Porcupine said he should report me as dead, or impossible
to find; nor could I prevail on him to do any
thing to the contrary.

When reminded of the possible vengeance of the
soldiers on his wives, whom they had threatened to
kill if he did not bring me back, he laughed.

"The white soldiers are cowards," he replied; "they
never kill women; and I will deceive them as I have
done before."

Saying this, he took his departure; nor could my
most urgent entreaties induce the chief to yield his
consent, and allow me to send a written message to my
friends, or in any wise assure them of my existence,

All hope of rescue departed, and sadly I turned again
to the wearisome drudgery of my captive life.

The young betrothed bride of the old chief was
very gracious to me. On one occasion she invited me
to join her in a walk. The day was cool, and the air
temptingly balmy.

"Down there," she said, pointing to a deep ravine;
"come and walk there; it is cool and shady."

I looked in the direction indicated, and then at the
Indian girl, who became very mysterious in her manner,
as she whispered:

"There are white people down there."

"How far?" I asked, eagerly.

"About fifty miles," she replied. "They have great
guns, and men dressed in much buttons; their wagons
are drawn by horses with long ears."

A fort, thought I, but remembering the treacherous
nature of the people I was among, I repressed every
sign of emotion, and tried to look indifferent.
"Should you like to see them?" questioned Egosegalonicha,
as she was called.

"They are strangers to me," I said, quietly; "I do
not know them."

"Are you sorry to live with us?"

"You do not have such bread as I would like to
eat," replied I, cautiously.

"And are you dissatisfied with our home?"

"You have some meat now; it is better than that at

the other camping-ground. There we had no food, and
I suffered."

"But your eyes are swollen and red," hinted she;
"you do not weep for bread."

These questions made me suspicious, and I tried to
evade the young squaw, but in vain.

"Just see how green that wood is," I said, affecting
not to hear her.

"But you do not say you are content," repeated she.
"Will you stay here always, willingly?"

"Come and listen to the birds," said I, drawing my
companion toward the grove.

I did not trust her, and feared to utter a single
word, lest it might be used against me with the chief.

Neither was I mistaken in the design of Egosegalonicha,
for when we returned to the lodge, I overheard
her relating to the chief the amusement she had enjoyed,
in lying to the white woman, repeating what
she had said about the fort, and inventing entreaties
which I had used, urging her to allow me to fly to
my white friends, and leave the Indians forever.

Instantly I resolved to take advantage of the affair
as a joke, and, approaching the chief with respectful
pleasantry, begged to reverse the story.

It was the squaw who had implored me to go with
her to the white man's fort, I said, and find her a
white warrior for a husband; but, true to my faith
with the Indians, I refused.

The wily Egosegalonicha, thus finding her weapons
turned against herself, appeared confused, and suddenly
left the tent, at which the old chief smiled grimly.

Slander, like a vile serpent, coils itself among these
Indian women; and, as with our fair sisters in civilized
society, when reality fails, invention is called in
to suply the defect. They delight in scandal, and
prove by it their claim to some of the refined conventionalities
of civilized life.

Porcupine had spread the news abroad in the village
that a large reward had been offered for the white wo
man, consequently I was sought for, the motive being
to gain the reward.

One day an Indian, whom I had seen in different
places, and whose wife I had known, made signs intimating
a desire for my escape, and assuring me of
his help to return to my people.

I listened to his plans, and although I knew my position
in such a case to be one of great peril, yet I felt
continually that my life was of so little value that any
opportunity, however slight, was as a star in the distance,
and escape should be attempted, even at a risk.

We conversed as well as we could several times, and
finally arrangements were made. At night he was to
make a slight scratching noise at the tipi where I was,
as a sign. The night came, but I was singing to the
people, and could not get away. Another time we had
visitors in the lodge, and I would be missed. The

next night I arose from my robe, and went out into
the darkness. Seeing my intended rescuer at a short
distance, I approached and followed him. We ran
hastily out of the village about a mile, where we were
to be joined by the squaw who had helped make the
arrangements and was favorable to the plan for my
escape, but she was not there. White Tipi (that was
the Indian's name) looked hastily around, and, seeing
no one, darted suddenly away, without a word of explanation.
Why the Indian acted thus I never knew.
It was a strange proceeding.

Fear lent me wings, and I flew, rather than ran, back
to my tipi, or lodge, where, exhausted and discouraged,
I dropped on the ground and feigned slumber, for the
inmates were already aroused, having just discovered
my absence. Finding me apparently asleep, they lifted
me up, and taking me into the tent, laid me upon my
own robe.

The next evening White Tipi sent for me to come to
his lodge, to a feast, where I was well and hospitably
entertained, but not a sign given of the adventure of
the previous night. But when the pipe was passed,
he requested it to be touched to my lips, then offered
it to the Great Spirit, thus signifying his friendship
for me.

In this month the Indians captured a white man,
who was hunting on the prairie, and carried him far
away from the haunts of white men, where they tied

him hand and foot, after divesting him of all clothing,
and left him to starve. He was never heard of afterward.

There were twin children in one of the lodges, one
of which sickened and died, and in the evening was
buried. The surviving child was placed upon the
scaffold by the corpse, and there remained all night,
its crying and moaning almost breaking my heart. I
inquired why they did this. The reply was, to cause
the mate to mourn. The mother was on one of the
neighboring hills, wailing and weeping, as is the custom
among them. Every night, nearly, there were
women among the hills, wailing for their dead.