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.
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