2. CHAPTER II.
The Omahas, on the other hand, had their favorite auguries
also, and the response from their gods was not dissimilar to that
which had been given to the Pawnees. It said that the nation
should infallibly succeed in the campaign, which should receive
the first blow. But nothing was said of captivity. Similar, but
in conflict, were the predictions. In both cases, as in battles
usually, everything was made to depend upon the first blow.
While, therefore, the policy of the Pawnees was to escape from
everything like conflict, that of the Omahas was to provoke
action and hurry into danger. Their warriors assembled, accordingly,
at all points, and issued from their lodges and towns,
taking the trail for the enemy's country. This they soon penetrated.
But the Pawnees were very wary. They stood only
on the defensive, and wholly avoided action; retreated before
equal numbers, and simply contented themselves with keeping
out of danger, while keeping the Omahas for ever vigilant.
Their caution, which was a very unwonted virtue, provoked the
Omahas to desperation. Their effrontery was prodigious. They
exposed themselves to the shaft on all occasions, rushing beneath
the fastnesses of the Pawnees, striking their naked breasts,
and defying their enemies to shoot. But the latter lay perdu,
quietly, if not calmly, looking on, and apparently satisfied to
keep their towns and camps in safety. They neither invited
attack nor awaited it, and resolutely avoided giving — what the
Omahas solicited — that first blow! It is true that the young
Pawnee braves felt sorely the necessity to which they were
required to submit. Bitterly, in their hearts, they cursed the
decree which kept them inactive; forced to submit to taunts,
reproaches, and invectives, from a people whom they loathed,
and affected to despise. It was scarcely possible to restrain
the young Pawnee bloods under such severe trials of their
temper; — but the voice of the priesthood was paramount; and,
blindly believing that safety lay only in their predictions, they
were persuaded to suspend the thirst of blood, and to substitute
subtlety for valor. To circumvent the enemy — to make the
captive, — not to slay, not even to wound: this was the great
duty and the eager desire with the warriors of the Pawnee.
But this was no easy matter. The Omahas longed for the conflict.
They desired to be smitten. They would struggle to
receive the stroke. They would force the captors to strike the
blow, which was to defeat the one prophecy and satisfy the conditions
of the other. They were not to be ensnared. They
exposed themselves but seldom singly, and they were always
armed for battle. Turn where the Pawnees would — set what
snares they might — employ what arts, — still they found themselves
met and foiled by their now strangely insolent and assailing
enemies.
But the Pawnee warriors had some long heads among them,
and they cogitated earnestly, and planned with equal deliberation
and method. Among these was a fellow of great renown,
with the uneuphonic name of Kionk, or as he was sometimes
called, Awé-Kionk. He was as shrewd and sensible as he was
brave and active, and was full of energy and spirit, being just
about thirty years of age. He was what we might call a splendid
looking savage — a sort of Mark Antony among the red
men — fond of good living — a rather merry companion for an Indian,
but in battle a genuine Birserker — becoming drunk and
delirious with a Hunnish rapture at the sight or taste of blood.
Such was the chief Kionk. He had his devices, and after a secret
conference with the head men of the nation he suddenly
disappeared with a small but select party of warriors, to put them
into execution. What was this famous project about which so
much mystery was thrown? So secretly did Kionk and his
followers depart, that nobody dreamed of their absence, even
when they were far away; and so wide was the circuit which
they took that they passed unseen and unsuspected, meeting
not one of the cloud of spies whom the Omahas had set to watch
along the line separating them from their enemies. The object
of Kionk was the captive, unhurt, unwounded, whose agonies,
reserved for the fiery torture, were to satisfy all the demands of
their gods and secure them the victory.
Within the whole wide ranges of a country which boasts an
almost perpetual spring, the Omaha village occupied one of the
sweetest and most beautiful situations that could anywhere be
seen. Their principal settlement was upon a small island, embosomed
in a broad and glassy lake, which empties into the
river Platte. The Pawnees had long looked with eager and
lustful eyes upon this lovely abiding place. It seemed to realize
to their imaginations the dream of the Indian heavens. It
was so cool, so solitary, and, though an island, so shady with
noble groves. There the banks seemed to wear the green of a
perpetual summer. Never were there such flowers as bloomed
for them by the wayside; and the singing birds loved the region,
and dwelt there, cherished choristers, throughout the year.
There were other luxuries in that little island home of the Omahas
which were even more precious and wooing in the sight of
the hungry Pawnees. The fish inhabiting the lake were in
abundance, and of surpassing fatness and flavor. No wonder
that the Loups hated a people in the exclusive possession of such
a delicious home!
The great scheme of Kionk was to effect a descent upon the
island, and carry off one at least of the inhabitants. This, it
was assumed, it was quite easy to do, provided the utmost caution
was observed, and that nothing happened to render the
Omahas suspicious of their object. Kionk reasoned rightly,
when he urged upon the chiefs that, while invading their enemy's
country, the Omahas would never dream of any foray into
their own! Their chief strength was well known to be in the
field, hovering all about the Pawnee settlements. It was argued
that the secluded situation of the village — its remoteness from
the scene of active operations — and its natural securities would,
in all probability, render the Omahas over-confident of its safety;
that they had probably left few men upon the island, and those
mostly the infirm and timid. These would offer but a weak defence;
but as assault was not the object, only surprise, even this
was not apprehended. Kionk, as we have seen, succeeded in
persuading the chiefs in council, and departed with his chosen
band, making a successful circuit, which enabled him to pass the
scouts of the Omahas, his progress entirely unsuspected.
