Last rambles amongst the Indians of the Rocky mountains and the Andes

Front matter

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: i lr v n v t^^* <T o n <j v t *s s ,

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Preface

T was said by a very great man that " Nothing can be more proper than that old people should write books for young folks, and that young folks should read them ; for old people have the greatest amount of experience, and young people have the greatest amount of time to profit by it."

Considering myself now belonging to the first of this category, and with a good share of the experience referred to, I shall take infinite pleasure in presenting this second volume of " Life amongst the Indians" to the readers of my first volume, who now amount, as far as I am able to learn, to something approaching 60,000.

These will doubtless search with avidity, when this volume comes forth, the means of commencing where the other volume left off, and of following me through the rest of the wanderings of my errant and chequered life ; and if it falls into others' hands, they should not cut its pages until they have called vi Preface.

upon the publishers for the first volume, that they may appreciate the vast plains and rivers and forests, with their peoples and their animal creations, east of the Rocky Mountains and the Andes, before they undertake to follow me amongst rocks and snows, and through scenes that transpire on the cindered plains and pine-dressecl mountains and shores of the Pacific Ocean.

Without the first volume, the reading of this will be like coming in at the play at the end of the second or third act ; the plot will be misunderstood, as the great and Avarlike and picturesque tribes of the prairies, the Sioux, the Comanches, the Osages, the Pawnees, &c, and their noble sports in the chase, and the stories of the "Kettle of Gold;' and the " Old Sawmill-tick;' with " John Dan vw" and " Johnny GNeil? &c, will all be lost ; and much, therefore, that is to be said in this volume would be unappreciated.

This is all I need say in the Preface, for the reader, with these suggestions, will be able to follow me, and to appreciate what I shall have to say and to show in the following pages.

The Author

C 0 NTENTS.

The Indians, who are they ?

• 319

Chap. XI. The Indians, where are they going?

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

v RATTLESNAKE TRAP 6

V THE RATTLESNAKE IN ROWLEY'S TRAP ...... 7 z /

V ATTACKED BY PECCARIES ^

A VISIT FROM AN ANT-EATER

§3

1 BEAUTIFUL CANOES ....

lz 5

"SORE LIPS" I2 ^

NAYAS INDIANS . .

J J 2

A MEDICINE DANCE .

1 TWO PORTRAITS ^

BLOCKS OF WOOD FROM THE UNDER LIP, ETC I38

FLATHEAD INDIANS j g

BA-DA-AH-CHON-DU, THE JUMPER l ~>]

• A CROW AT HIS TOILETTE ^

\ - N "AH-QUOT-SE-0, SPANISH SPUR, AND NIC-WARRA . . . 190 x List of Illustrations.

PAGE

^^"tir-national" 192

botocudos and payaguas indians 213

indian of the amazon 237 unmarried girl of venezuela 246

indian beaux ideals 248

> killing wild horses with bolas 265

ERRATA.

For " Levins ;J read " Stevens.*' pages 1 16 and 117, and elsewhere.

THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

AND THE ANDES.

Chapter I. The Rattlesnakes' Den

HE readers of my first volume will have preserved some impression of the shape and position of my father's plantation in the picturesque little valley of the Ocquago, on the bank of the Susquehana river, hemmed in with huge mountains on either side, and in which was situated the " Old Sawmill Lick," and the scene of the " Kettle of Gold," which have been described in the first volume.

As has been said, though not the place of my nativity, it was the tapis on which my boyish days were spent, and rife with legends of Indian lore^ its natural features, and its incidents stamped upon my youthful mind impressions which easily beguile me in this, as in my first volume, again to

B

2 Ocqnago.

loiter a little about it before I start off with my young readers to the vast and boundless regions where the principal scenes of this little book are to be laid.

• "JohnDarrow" is recollected, and faithful "Johnny O'Neil," and their singular and respective characters will be better stereotyped in the little episode which is here to follow.

Ocquago (Ohk-qua-guh), the Indian name of a straight mountain, of six or eight miles in length, in the southern part of the State of New York, having the cool and limpid river Susquehana gliding along at its western base, and a fertile valley of rich alluvion from one to two miles in breadth on the opposite shore, barricaded by the Randolph Mountains on the west.

In the middle of this little valley lay my father's plantation, and above and below it, during the days of my boyhood, some eight or ten farms of less dimensions, and also bordering on the river shore, were under cultivation ; which, together with labourers, hunters, fishermen, &c, counted a population of something like two hundred persons.

This picturesque, but insignificant little valley, which at that time had acquired no place in history, having been settled but a few years, nevertheless had its traditions of an exciting interest, as the rendezvous of " Brant," the famous and terrible Mohawk chief, and his army during the frontier

Ocquago. 3

war, in which the " Wyoming massacre" took place, and the finale of which was the subsequent deroute of Brant and his Indian forces, through the valley of the Ocquago, and beyond the Randolph Mountains, to the sources of the Susquehana, by the Pennsylvania militia.

These events, and their attendant cruelties, both savage and civil, too recent at that time to be called traditions, accounted (as stated in the first volume) for the vivid and unfading impressions which I received, at an early age, of Indians, of " Indian massacres," &c. And the singular adventures here to follow will show how I received at the same age impressions not less exciting, nor less lasting, but of another kind, indicated in the heading of this chapter.

Though the Indians had disappeared, and nothing but their oral history, and their bones, and their implements ploughed up in our fields, remained of them, there was yet another enemy, even more numerous, more cruel, and more deadly, and threatening to be more unconquerable and inexterminable to deal with.

The banks and the meadows of the Susquehana, in the beautiful valleys of Wyoming, Tioga, Chenango, Ocquago, and Otsego, were probably more infested than any other portions of the globe, with rattlesnakes of all colours, and various dimensions, that struck at the heels of all that was mortal, man or beast, in the meadows or fields of grain, in which they crawled and wallowed during the summer season.

Of these localities, the little valley of the Ocquago seemed to be the most cruelly inflicted by this terrible scourge, and no doubt so, from its limited dimensions and peculiar position, receiving the concentration of these reptiles in the summer months, from the desolate mountains surrounding it.

During the hay-making* and harvesting season these poisonous creatures were exceedingly dangerous to the lives of the labourers, and from my father's fields their frightful carcasses were daily brought in by my father's hired men, with their heads cut off by the scythe, or killed by the cudgel. And every summer, more or less lives of men, of women, or of children, as well as of horses, of dogs, and other animals were destroyed, in the otherwise peaceable and happy little valley, by these hidden and deadly enemies.

With the habits and peculiarities of an enemy so deadly and so universal (and consequently so " respectable") as this, in the mountains and valleys of America, it may be well for the reader to be made a little more familiar in this place, for they are an enemy more dangerous than Indians, and will probably demand a large space in the narrations of incidents to be given in the following pages, as well as those mentioned in the former volume.

As a natural history fact, and known to all the inhabitants of those parts where they abound, how curious that these reptiles, after spending the summer season in the grassy valleys, and on the banks of the rivers and lakes, at the first indication of frost in the fall of the year, en masse, and simultaneously, from instinct, commence a pi lgrimage across rivers, across lakes, and up the mountain sides, no matter what distance, to the a Rattlesnakes' Den," their winters rendezvous, where not only hundreds, but thousands, assemble. And in their inapproachable cavern, in a torpid state, they await the coming of spring, and the beginning of summer, when they venture forth again, and descend into the valleys, for another summer's campaign.

How curious the fact also, that, in their summer's peregrinations, the male and female are always in company ; and how wonderful that instinct that enables them to track each other, and never to lose that company, though, when met, two are never seen together, but are generally within hearing of each other's rattle, or not far distant, following on the trail ! Most generally, if we irritate the one, and make it sound its rattle, we hear in the distance the sound of the other's rattle, in answer ; and if we kill the one we meet, and leave its carcass over night, we find the other by its side, or near it, the next morning.

And a Rattlesnake Trap ! (who has ever heard of it?) first invented, no doubt, by Buel Rowley, one of

6 Rattlesnake Trap,

my father's labouring men ; the same who ploughed up the " kettle of gold/' and the rusty tomahawk, which it will be recollected left its indelible mark on my left cheek-bone.

Well, the " Rattlesnake Trap," here it is —

A simple log of wood, some three or four feet in length, and the size of a man's leg, or larger, with a hollow through it, large enough for the reptile to crawl through, but not sufficiently spacious for it to turn about ; its forward extremity being partially closed, to prevent the snake from passing out. Rowley, from a practical knowledge he had gained of the close manner in which this creature follows the trail of its mate, conceived the plan of conducting it into a hollow tube from which it could not escape, being unable to retreat in its straitened and confined position, and checked by the reversed position of its scales.

This ingenious machine was lodged in my father's woodhouse, 1 and when a rattlesnake was killed in

1 An open shed, in which wood for the winter is stored.

Buel Rowley . 7

any of his fields, the trap was transported to a position near the spot, when the carcass of the snake was gently dragged towards it through the grass, by a thong, and pulled through the hollow of the log. After which a tenpenny nail or two driven into the forward end was sufficient to prevent the living snake from passing through, and at the same time to allow the light to enter. '

The carcass of the dead snake was then lifted from the ground and carried away ; and on Rowley's shoulder the next morning the rattlesnake trap was almost invariably transported back to the woodhouse ; the tail of the snake, with its rattles, hanging out, a harmless and amusing toy for the women and children to play with, for by touching them, or striking the log, they were instantly set in motion, and the expression and crescendo of their music controled by the harmless rage that was boiling within.

Curiosity satisfied (and that curious propensity of the most of mankind " to finger danger when it is iron bound "), Rowley's pincers withdrew the nails in front of the cage, which was then passed between the bars of the fence, enclosing a field containing a number of hogs, and clipping the tail with its rattles as a trophy, the imprisoned reptile lost no time in launching itself out of its prison, and into the jaws of" the old sow," which stood ready, and whose forefeet were instantly upon it and held it, whilst she

8 Rattlesnake Trap.

exhibited her swinish taste, by tearing it to pieces and devouring every morsel of it !

My father had learned (I don't know how) that the bite of a rattlesnake was not poisonous to the flesh of swine, and that those reptiles were invariably devoured by hogs that happened to come upon them ; both of which singular facts I often saw confirmed in my fathers fields of swine,' when he had ordered these living serpents to be thrown amongst them.

Rowley's trap, for which he had no patent, was soon adopted in the other parts of the valley, and his enviable standing, as a public benefactor, was soon evident from the number of tails with rattles which were sent to him, and which he had demanded as a sort of Royalty for his invention.

And yet, a greater trap than this awaited those poisonous beasts, which were at that time almost threatening the existence of the otherwise happy little colony of the valley of the Ocquago — a trap which, by way of comparison, might be called a wholesale trap — a cataclysm — a catastrophe, as will be seen, which rescued the valley from its dangers, and gained for its inventor, honours, though not immortal, yet of an enviable character, while they lasted. (We shall see anon).

" Darrow " (recollect the empire which his Nimrodic celebrity had gained over my youthful mind —my consummate admiration of his deer-stalking

John Barrow. 9

and panther-hunting qualities), D arrow, not a long time after the scene at the " Old Sawmill Lick," and, I think, early in the spring of 18 10, said to me one day whilst he and I were working in the field together, " George, I intend to play the devil with the rattlesnakes this spring — they've had it all in their own way long enough. You recollect poor Mary Judkins, George ?"

" Yes, Mr. Darrow, I was close by her when she was bit last summer. I heard her scream when she was struck. There was a whole wagon-load of us, boys and girls, out on Bowman's ridge picking whortleberries ; she was reaching her hand forward when the snake jumped from a rock before her, and about even with her face, and bit her right in the vein of her neck ! She gave one scream, and fell backwards, close by me, and never got up. All the party gathered around her, and put her into the wagon, quite dead, and carried her home : and her neck and her arms were just the colour of the rattlesnake itself, which we found under the rocks and killed."

" And that good soul, Heth, George, bitten on the floor of his own house I"

* Yes ; that I didn't see, Mr. Darrow. but I heard of it."

* It's getting too bad, George. These devils are increasing at such a rate that it's almost as much as a man's life is worth to work in the fields amongst io John D arrow.

them. Now, George, I know where all these beasts come from ; I know the very house they all live in ; and you and I will make a smash among 'em, George, before many days come around/'

Darrow then related to me what at that time was new to me, and which has been mentioned in a former page, that these reptiles all leave the valley at the first appearance of frosty nights in the fall of the year, and congregate in one immense cavern, where they spend the winter in a torpid state, and start off* in pairs for the valleys as soon as the weather is warm enough in the spring of the year ; and that for a week or two before the nights are warm enough for their travels, during the warmth of the sun in the middle of the spring days, they come out of their den, not only in hundreds, but by thousands, and lie for several hours in front of it basking in the sun, and return into their cave before the coldness of the evening approaches.

"Why, that's the ' Rattlesnakes' Den,' that I have heard my father talk about."

" Yes," said Darrow, "the ' Rattlesnakes' Den;' it's in the top of Steele's Mountain, back of Hilbourns, under the high ledge looking off into Hemlock Hollow. About ten years ago these devils got to be so bad, that Joe Snidigar, Atwill, and myself, and several others, went out in a spring day and thrashed about three hundred of them to death whilst they lay sunning themselves in front of their den ; and they are now getting to be so bad again, that you and I must make another row among 'em, George. Say nothing of it yet, but on Sunday, if it should be a sunny day, when neither of us have any work to do, we'll go and merely take a peep at them, and lay our plans as to the time and mode of attack."

Sunday came, and it was a fine and sunny day ; and though I had difficulties of a very peculiar and embarrassing kind to contend with, I met Darrow as arranged, " in the lower barn/' with my little single-barrelled fowling-piece, and he in his hunting shirt and fox-skin cap, and rifle in hand, a model to which my whole soul aspired.

My dear mother was a Methodist, and a devout and professing Christian, and my father a philosopher, professing no particular creed, but keeping and teaching the Commandments. My incurable propensity for trout-fishing, under the unfortunate conviction that they "took the fly" better on Sunday than on other days, had gained me the condemnation of those good parents, and on several occasions severe floggings, for disobeying their positive commands as to fishing and shooting on that day.

It had been a long time since I had had one of these, and though, old as I was getting, I still was under the injunction, and with the certain conviction that the penalty would be inflicted in case of disobedience.

Darrow assured me that our mission was one for the public good, offering to plead my case with my father; and leaving the "lower barn" with our pieces trailed, and following the bed of the " Big Creek/' so as not to be seen from the house, we soon reached, through my father's meadows, the river-side, where we got a canoe to land us on the other shore, at the foot of the mountain, into the thick forest of which we were soon ensconced, and our day's enjoyment (whatever might come after it) was now secure before us.

We sat down upon a large log, and whilst Darrow was knocking the priming out of the pan and repriming his gun, which he always did on entering upon promising hunting-ground, he said : —

" George, Ave are now going to pass through one of my best ranges. Many a fine buck " Old Ben " 1 has knocked over on this side of the ridge, and we have full two miles to go before we reach the " Rattlesnakes' Den." Keep some five or six rods behind me, George, and don't break a stick ; watch me close, and if you see me on my hand and knee (or on my belly, which is sometimes necessary), don't move an inch. On the first ledge we shall rise, about half a mile from here, is a famous buck, who always lies chewing his cud from nine or ten in the morning until near sundown. I've tried him

! His rifle.

several times, but he's always too wide-awake for me. I've let fly at him two or three times, when nothing but his white flag was seen bounding through the bushes ; but those were random shots, only sent for amusement. I'll give him a call, however, as we pass up the hill ; and a little beyond that, at the foot of the second ridge, I'll show you, George, the spot where I shot the beautiful painter, whose skin, you know, lies on the floor in your fathers hall, in front of the parlour-door."

At this, with his rifle trailed in his right hand, and his wiper 1 in the left, and an extra bullet in his mouth, more quickly handled than if drawn from his pouch, and his body was seen gliding through the bushes and between the rocks without moving a leaf. Oh, how beautiful to my young and aspiring vision the cautious and graceful movements of this stalking teacher ! What pupil ever watched the magic touches of his master's pencil with more admiration than I watched the movements of this master-hunter as he led me through the forests and rocks and ravines of the mountain's side ? No time or circumstances have ever yet effaced the slightest impression then made upon my youthful mind, nor will they leave me while recollections last

We passed the lair of " Old Golden" (as the fa-

1 An extra ramrod, which hunters carry in their left hand, for facility in loading and cleaning their rifles,

14 " Old Golden."

mous a Big Buck" was called) without finding him at home ; and getting near to the top of the last ridge, I saw Darrow carefully sinking down upon his left knee, with his rifle drawn to his face. What a palpitation ! I heard my heart distinctly beat ! Was it a panther, or an Indian (for reports were that they were still lurking about) ? Was he to fire, or not ? And if he did, and should miss, or should wound — I was charged with small shot only, and what might the next moment disclose ?

Darrow held his position without moving for a minute or two, when he gradually lowered his body to the ground, and, getting his face around so as to see me, beckoned with his hand for me to come on my hands and knees to him. I applied my first ideas of stalking as well as I could in my agitated state, and getting by the side of him, with a large log before us, which screened us from its view, he whispered to me : —

" George ! it's a fine large doe. What a pity to harm the poor thing! She's big, and I haint the heart to draw a bead 1 upon her. Look at her, but be cautious."

I raised my forehead above the log as gradually and cautiously as I could ; and at the instant that my eyes were above the surface of the log, I discovered the deer about a hundred yards from us, lying down, and with nose and ears pointed, looking

1 To take sight.

me full in the face ! She sprang upon her feet, and bounded off, and " Old Golden/' lying behind a bunch of fern at a few paces distant, rising as it were into the air, and waving his white flag to and fro, accompanied her !

" Zounds ! what a fool I've been, George ! " exclaimed Darrow, "that old fellow has played me many a trick, but I never expected him in company with his wife at this season of the year. He don't get off in that way another time, I assure you."

Poor Darrow (I never shall forget it), how he was chapfallen ; his face became wrinkled and creviced in a minute, and he sighed and groaned as he contemplated the beautiful position in which " Old Golden" had laid under the range of his rifle, " if he only had known it." However, the misfortune was irreparable, and we moved on towards the " Rattlesnakes' Den."

On the top of the mountain, which was barren and level for a long distance, Darrow shouldered his rifle, and said : —

" George, Ave can talk here as much as we please —no game lives here." He then said, " We are now close to the ' Den.' That tall pine you see yonder stands right upon the rock where the snakes come out ; and probably they go under the rocks as far as where Ave now stand. There's not another word to be said, but you keep a little back of me, and watch my signs."

Darrow advanced on his hands and knees towards

The Rattlesnakes Den.

the brink of the precipice, and, getting within a fewyards of it, laid down his rifle, and then, lying closer to the ground, and advancing more slowly, got so as to look over and down upon the level platform of rock below. After gazing for a minute or so, by reaching back with his right hand he made signs for me to come to him, which I did, creeping in the same manner he had done, and leaving my gun behind. Getting by the side of him, and both of us permanently fixed and motionless, we had together the strange view of some five or eight hundred of the reptiles (devils, as he called them) spread out on the surface of a level rock of some four or five rods in diameter, and twenty-five feet below us, in coils, in knots and bunches, basking in the sun, and all were motionless, and apparently asleep. Their scales, fresh from their damp cavern, and not yet soiled by their summer's travels, were glistening in the sun, of all colours — yellow, black, and white, and the breathing motions of their bodies gave them the sparkling effect of moving diamonds.

In the midst of these groups were here and there harmless black snakes of some ten or twelve feet in length, intertwined and coiled with them as if members of the same venomous family. There were rattlesnakes of all sizes — some were black, some brown, and others of a bright yellow. Some were lying on their backs, perfectly straight, and others were hanging from the limbs of the adjoining

The Devil's Ptdpit trees, and others coiled around their trunks. Oh ! what a beautiful sight, and what a perdition, if, by a slip of the foot, one were to have been launched into the midst of it !

Darrow at length gave the signal, and slowly withdrawing his head, and I following, we were in a moment beyond their view, and safe for the remarks which Darrow was prepared to extemporise and I to ejaculate. I have no sort of recollection what they were, but whilst we were descending the mountain, on our way home, and had got about halfway down, Darrow said, " There, George, we are now at the 'Devil's Pulpit/"

I had some vague recollections of stories I had heard about the " Devil's Pulpit," and being just old enough to know the meaning of a pulpit, I was curious to know what the devil had to do with a pulpit.

" Well," said Darrow, " George, I don't exactly know the whole history of the place myself, but that rock you see standing out in front of the Avail there is shaped like a pulpit, and has just room for a man to stand in it and make a speech or preach a sarment. And I've hearn say that when the Indians had made the ' Massacre of Wyoming/ the great Mohawk chief Brant held his army of 20-00 Indian warriors here encamped, on the very ground where we now stand, in front of the pulpit, to guard the narrows below, in case the Pennsylvania militia at-

c

1 8 The Devil's Pulpit

tempted to follow the Indians through. Brant was a terrible warrior, though onlv a half-Indian ; he had brought a number of white prisoners to this place who had been taken in the battle of Tunkhannock, and some of them who afterwards escaped said that he even' morning preached a sarment to his warriors from this pulpit, and everybody, knowing him to be a very devil, called the rock the 'Devil's Pulpit' But your father, George, can tell you more about it."

We were, in a little time, from the " Pulpit Rock" down to the river's side, which we crossed, and entered my father's fields. Now was approaching the tribunal, the awful retribution for me. Darrow had engaged to plead my cause with my parents, and Sunday not yet being passed, we halted awhile at the " lower barn," where my little fowling-piece was secreted ; and Darrow fearlessly shouldering his rifle, we successfully entered mv mother's kitchen, without being noticed bv any one.

Darrow, after waiting awhile for my trial to come on, gave me these consoling words,- —

" I don't believe your father is going to say anything about it to-night, George, and I shall see him early in the morning."

He then departed for his own home, half a mile distant, where he was living with his family ; and I soon after slipped into bed. Before I had got to sleep, however, a light entered my room. It was

The Water-beech Sprouts, 19

my father, with a candle in his hand. He took a seat by the side of my bed. Oh what a moment !

" My dear son/' said he, " you never tell me a falsehood. I have looked everywhere to-day, and your mother also, for the ' little musket.' Do you •know anything about it ? Where is it ? "