ch
the Delawares are skillful; though from its weight, the distant prairie
Indians are too lazy to carry it.

"Who's your chief?" he immediately inquired.

Henry Chatillon pointed to us. The old Delaware fixed his eyes intently
upon us for a moment, and then sententiously remarked:

"No good! Too young!" With this flattering comment he left us, and rode
after his people.

This tribe, the Delawares, once the peaceful allies of William Penn, the
tributaries of the conquering Iroquois, are now the most adventurous and
dreaded warriors upon the prairies. They make war upon remote tribes the
very names of which were unknown to their fathers in their ancient
seats in Pennsylvania; and they push these new quarrels with true
Indian rancor, sending out their little war parties as far as the Rocky
Mountains, and into the Mexican territories. Their neighbors and
former confederates, the Shawanoes, who are tolerable farmers, are in
a prosperous condition; but the Delawares dwindle every year, from the
number of men lost in their warlike expeditions.

Soon after leaving this party, we saw, stretching on the right, the
forests that follow the course of the Missouri, and the deep woody
channel through which at this point it runs. At a distance in front were
the white barracks of Fort Leavenworth, just visible through the trees
upon an eminence above a bend of the river. A wide green meadow, as
level as a lake, lay between us and the Missouri, and upon this, close
to a line of trees that bordered a little brook, stood the tent of the
captain and his companions, with their horses feeding around it, but
they themselves were invisible. Wright, their muleteer, was there,
seated on the tongue of the wagon, repairing his harness. Boisverd
stood cleaning his rifle at the door of the tent, and Sorel lounged
idly about. On closer examination, however, we discovered the captain's
brother, Jack, sitting in the tent, at his old occupation of splicing
trail-ropes. He welcomed us in his broad Irish brogue, and said that
his brother was fishing in the river, and R. gone to the garrison. They
returned before sunset. Meanwhile we erected our own tent not far off,
and after supper a council was held, in which it was resolved to remain
one day at Fort Leavenworth, and on the next to bid a final adieu to
the frontier: or in the phraseology of the region, to "jump off." Our
deliberations were conducted by the ruddy light from a distant swell of
the p