ON THE PLAINS

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 346, 22 July 1875, Page 3

ON THE PLAINS

I had long been desirous of visiting the vast plains west of the Mississippi which stretch to the foot of the Rocky Mountains, the home of the wild horse and the buffalo, of the elk, the common and black-tailed deer, and the antelope. At the Verandah Hotel in New Orleans I made the acquaintance of two men about starting for a hunt upon the praries, who invited me to join them. It was proposed that we should take our passage upon one of those floating hotels, a Mississippi' steamboat, as far as the Arkansas River, up which stream we were to proceed to Little Rock; and, should the state of the river admits of boats running higher, we should try to reach Fort Gibson, where we could pick up some trained buffalo horses and a pack mule or two.

That our arms and horses should be good was the main point, for although we did not contemplate spending more than a few days on the plains, we were going upon ticklish ground, the Pawnees and other prairie tribes of horse Indians, however friendly they might seem in the vicinity of the fort, yet this apparent friendship was not to be too much relied upon by a small party like our own, if they saw a good opportunity of ‘lifting our har,’ and appropriating our ‘ belongings,’ with a good chance of escaping detection, or of shifting the blame of our murder upon another band. Green, one of my companions, had in his early days lived with the Fottawatamee Indians, and was accustomed to the wild life we expected to lead for a short time. He had afterwards made some money by trading between Mexico and the plantations of the Southern States, with which he had purchased a small plantation and a few ‘ hands,’ and had settled down as a planter: but occasionally he felt obliged to return for a time to the old life which he had enjoyed so long and loved so well, and which few who have once followed can ever afterwards relinquish, or, if circumstances compel them to leave it, they are constantly pining alter.

My other componion, Nemo, claimed no country. He was a citizen of the world, he said; but he had such an intimate knowledge of English life and England that it was no difficult riddle to guess under what foggy sky he first saw the light. He had, as he expressed it, * had a hand in about most of the musses which had been kicking round.’ He had been taken prisoner in the Lopez expedition in the last Lancer charge down the main street of Cardenas, but had had the luck to draw a white bean out of the fata sombrero when the unfortunate Clay and his fellow-adventurers were decimated j and h«

had witnessed the fusilade under the walls of the Moro Castle, which wound up that unlucky expedition. Afterwards he had had ‘ a go in at the Mexicans’ under Cavajal, and had commanded what he called the ‘ flying artillery,’ or * jackass brigade,’ an eight-ounce gun mounted upon the back of a little mule, which, although it had done but little execution amongst the ‘greasers,’ had at each discharge knocked over its ‘ carriage, ■ending the unfortunate animal upon its nose ; till night put an end to the battle of Camargo. When the * grey-eyed man of destiny, as he was called by the New Orleans press, General William Walker, invaded Nicaragua, Nemo had, as a matter of course, joined him, and shared with this chief his victories and reverses, until Walker, too, like his first leader, Lopez, came to grief, when he, with the survivors of that expedition, were brought back to New Orleans ; and it was now, whilst waiting for some other filibustering schemes to turn up, that he proposed, just for distraction, to take a turn on the plains. For myself, the less said the better. I had been almost everything but a parson, and very nearly that. I had ridden wild horses and herded wild cattle, and could see through the sights of my rifle as well as my neighbours. On the evening of the Bth of April we found ourselves on board the boat, whose engines groaned as they forced it against the strong though muddy stream of the ‘ Father of Waters.’ Smoking, drinking, and cardplaying were in full force amongst the heterogeneous worldlings assembled in the saloon, whilst those of more staid habits formed themselves into little groups upon the hurri-cane-deck, talking the eternal politics, which the Americans so much delight in, or, where a buck-skinned hunter had stationed himself listening to the fierce encounters with wild animals or wilder men which the gaunt trapper recounted to his attentive auditors. Far up at the bow a group of men in illmade, loose-fitting black coats and ‘ continuations,’ arranged their plan of battle for a fierce encounter with sm at a monster revival meeting to which they were hastening, and speculating upon the ‘ improving ’ time they were about to enjoy under each other’s ministrations at Big Shirt-tail Bend. Gradually the groups broke up, and the passengers sought their berths, as the chill evening air began to be felt on the deck; only in the saloon, where the gamblers were wooing fortune, or in the bar, where iced drinks were being ‘fixed’ for the thirsty players, were human sounds to be heard. Near one of the tables, at which very heavy play was going on, one of the black-coated gentry halted, and, thinking it a good opportunity for him to air his piety, began to denounce the play. For some time no notice was taken, but at last, as it distracted his attention, one of the gamblers requested him civilly to desist, and attend to his own business.

The reverend gentlemen replied that it was his duty to reprove sin wherever he saw it, and that he should do so, and that he knew his business.

‘ Do you ? ’ said the gambler, with a sneer. ;ril bet you fifty bone was it Samson used to pitch into the Philistines with ? ’

‘ Why, the jawbone of an ass, to be sure,’ said the divine.

‘All right, old cock, but that ain’t it. Was it a new or an old jawbone ? ’ *lt was the jawbone of an ass : and there is no mention made as to its being new or old. Absurd I ’

* It was not yours,’ growled the gambler in his beard, with a contempt he was at no pains to conceal, ‘ for that’s a-wagging yet. ‘ But, guv’nor, I said I’d bet you fifty, and I’ll go you a hundred dollars better, or a thousand, if you like, that it states distinctly that it was a new one. Get your Bible and look.’

* I am not profane enough to bet,’ said the Baptist, ‘ but I will even look at the passage, as I believe you are making game of me.’

Having procured his Bible, he was compelled to admit that the gambler was correct.

‘Now, old boss, you make quite sure you do know your own business before you interfere with other people’s. Boys, it’s my deal.’ And the play commenced fast and furious, whilst the discomforted divine sought his pillow. * The scenery of the Mississippi, though grand, is monotonous, and has been often described; still it is the most pleasant way of travelling I have met with either at home or abroad, and I have tried most, from the ‘Times,’ with old Pearson on the box, fi\re-and-twenty years ago, to a diligence between Paris and Bordeaux, which occupied ninety hours, and from a sloop beating with a head wind for twenty hours between St Heliers and St Malo, to an ocean steamer with all appliances to make a voyage pleasant, but yet could not withal prevent rough seas.

On an American river steamer there is no perceptible motion, and you glide along taking your ease in your inn with, the com fortable satisfaction of feeling that you are both consuming the good things provided as well as time and space; and you must be hard indeed to please if you cannot, out of your numerous fellow-voyagers, discover some pleasant people. We arrived at Little Rock, and fortunately found the river high enough to permit boats to proceed as far as the fort, the vessels buut for inland navigation being warranted to ran where it is a little damp. At Fort Gibson we procured three good horses and a couple of Indian ponies. * What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife’ how we chaffered for our horses, and how the Westerns tried to get the better of us as ’cutely as any Yorkshireman that ever was bom. It is enough to say that we knew a ‘screw’ when we saw him, and were ‘ York’ too, and that we remembered our destination was the hunting-ground as well as the cockpit of many hostile Indian tribes. The respectable elderly gentleman who sends to Anderson for a quiet horse to amble upon down Rotton Row, and the hunter, who will possibly have to depend for his life upon the speed and endurance of his steed, start from two different points of view. The one looks for a neat hack on which he can canter alongside his daughters, the other for one whose paoe and bottom will carry him clear, not of the chair occupants who line the Bow, but of the howhng redskins on the ‘war-path.’ We, requiring the latter, did pot buy th«n carelessly. ' {To be continued.)