University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

It was a beautiful morning in June when we left Fort
Snelling to go on a pleasure party up the St. Peters, in a
steamboat, the first that had ever ascended that river.
There were many drawbacks in the commencement, as
there always are on such occasions. The morning was
rather cool, thought some, and as they hesitated about going,
of course their toilets were delayed to the last moment.
And when all were fairly in the boat, wood was yet to
be found. Then something was the matter with one of
the wheels—and the mothers were almost sorry they had
consented to come; while the children, frantic with joy,
were in danger of beign drowned every moment, by the
energetic movements they made near the sides of the boat,
by way of indicating their satisfaction at the state of
things.

In the cabin, extensive preparations were making in case
the excursion brought on a good appetite. Everybody contributed
loaf upon loaf of bread and cake; pies, coffee
and sugar; cold meats of every description; with milk and
cream in bottles. Now and then, one of these was broken
or upset, by way of adding to the confusion, which was
already intolerable.

Champaigne and old Cogniac were brought by the young
gentlemen, only for fear the ladies should be sea-sick; or,
perhaps, in case the gentlemen should think it positively
necessary to drink the ladies' health.

When we thought all was ready, there was still another
delay. Sha-co-pee and two of his warriors were seen coming
down the hill, the chief making an animated appeal to
some one on board the boat; and as he reached the shore
he gave us to understand that his business was concluded,
and that he would like to go with us. But it was very
evident that he considered his company a favor.

The bright sun brought warmth, and we sat on the
upper deck admiring the beautiful shores of the St. Peter's.
Not a creature was to be seen for some distance on the
banks, and the birds as they flew over our heads seemed to
be the fit and only inhabitants of such a region.

When tired of admiring the scenery, there was enough
to employ us. The table was to be set for dinner; the
children had already found out which basket contained the
cake, and they were casting admiring looks towards it.

When we were all assembled to partake of some refreshments,
it was delightful to find that there were not enough
chairs for half the party. We borrowed each other's knives
and forks too, and etiquette, that petty tyrant of society,
retired from the scene.

Shah-co-pee found his way to the cabin, where he manifested
strong symptoms of shaking hands over again; in
order to keep him quiet, we gave him plenty to eat. How
he seemed to enjoy a piece of cake that had accidentally
dropped into the oyster-soup! and with equal gravity would
he eat apple-pie and ham together. And then his cry of
“wakun”[1] when the cork flew from the champaigne bottle
across the table!

How happily the day passed—how few such days occur
in the longest life!

As Shah-co-pee's village appeared in sight, the chief addressed
Col. D—, who was at that time in command
of Fort Snelling, asking him why we had come on such an
excursion.

“To escort you home” was the ready reply; “you are
a great chief, and worthy of being honored, and we have
chosen this as the best way of showing our respect and admiration
of you.”

The Dahcotah chief believed all; he never for a moment
thought there was anything like jesting on the subject of
his own high merits; his face beamed with delight on receiving
such a compliment.

The men and women of the village crowded on the shore
as the boat landed, as well they might, for a steamboat
was a new sight to them.

The chief sprang from the boat, and swelling with pride
and self admiration he took the most conspicuous station
on a rock near the shore, among his people, and made them
a speech.

We could but admire his native eloquence. Here, with
all that is wild in nature surrounding him, did the untaught
orator address his people. His lips gave rapid utterance to
thoughts which did honor to his feelings, when we consider
who and what he was.

He told them that the white people were their friends;
that they wished them to give up murder and intemperance,
and to live quietly and happily. They taught them
to plant corn, and they were anxious to instruct their children.
“When we are suffering,” said he, “during the

cold weather, from sickness or want of food, they give us
medicine and bread.”

And finally he told them of the honor that had been paid
him. “I went, as you know, to talk with the big Captain
of the Fort, and he, knowing the bravery of the Dahcotahs,
and that I was a great chief, has brought me home, as you
see. Never has a Dahcotah warrior been thus honored!”

Never indeed! But we took care not to undeceive him.
It was a harmless error, and as no efforts on our part
could have diminished his self importance, we listened with
apparent, indeed with real admiration of his eloquent
speech. The women brought ducks on board, and in exchange
we gave them bread; and it was evening as we
watched the last teepee of Shah-co-pee's village fade away
in the distance.

But sorrow mingles with the remembrance of that bright
day. One of those who contributed most to its pleasures
is gone from us—one whom all esteemed and many loved,
and justly, for never beat a kinder or a nobler heart.