constantly recall
to his mind that he had killed a defenceless foe. Private encounters
with their enemies, the Navahoes and Arrapahoes, are conducted as
tournaments in the days of yore. Two Indians will run full speed against
each other with their well-poised lance; on their shield, with equal
skill, they will receive the blow; then, turning round, they will salute
each other as a mark of esteem from one brave foe to another.

Such incidents happen daily, but they will not be believed by the
Europeans, who have the vanity of considering themselves alone as
possessing "le sentiment du chevalresque et du beau;" besides, they are
accustomed to read so many horrible accounts of massacres committed by
the savages, that the idea of a red skin is always associated in their
mind with the picture of burning stakes and slow torture. It is a
mistake, and a sad one; would to God that our highly civilized nations
of Europe had to answer for no more cruelties than those perpetrated by
the numerous gallant tribes of Western America.

I was present one day when a military party came from Fort Bent, on the
head of the Arkansa, to offer presents and make proposals of peace to
the Comanche council. The commander made a long speech, after which he
offered I don't know how many hundred gallons of whisky. One of the
ancient chiefs had not patience to hear any more, and he rose full of
indignation. His name was Auku-wonze-zee, that is to say, "he who is
superlatively old."

"Silence," he said; "speak no more, double-tongued Oposh-ton-ehoc
(Yankee). Why comest thou, false-hearted, to pour thy deceitful words
into the ears of my young men? You tell us you come for peace, and you
offered to us poison. Silence, Oposh-ton-ehoc, let me hear thee no more,
for I am an old man; and now that I have one foot in the happy grounds
of immortality, it pains me to think that I leave my people so near a
nation of liars. An errand of peace! Does the snake offer peace to the
squirrel when he kills him with the poison of his dreaded glance? does
an Indian say to the beaver, he comes to offer peace when he sets his
traps for him? No! a pale-faced Oposh-ton-ehoc? or a '_Kish emok
comho-anac_' (the beast that gets drunk and lies, the Texan), can alone
thus he to nature--but not a red-skin, nor even a girlish Wachinangoe,
nor a proud '_Shakanah_' (Englishman), nor a '_Mahamate kosh ehoj_'
(open-heart, open-handed Frenchman).

"Be silent, then, man with the tongu