Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Southward Ho! A Spell of Sunshine >> Chapter XVII / Legend of Missouri: Or, The Captive of the Pawnee >> Page 425

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Novel (Romance) | Redfield | 1854
Transcription THE CAMP OF THE PALE-FACES. 425
guidance of a star, chosen, as pointing in the seemingly given direction. Thus, for an hour or more after night, he followed on through the dim forest. Suddenly, as he rounds a water-course, which he can not wade, he is startled by the blaze of a camp-fire.
" Such a fire," quoth Enemoya to himself, was never made by Pawnee warrior. He would never be the fool so to advertise his sleeping place to his enemies."
The prospect which would have cheered the white man, disap- - pointed our chief of Omaha. He now knew that he had been misled, and had turned aside from the true path indicated by the beads of Missouri, to follow upon one which had been evidently made by quite another party. But, though mortified with him-self at this blundering, and in allowing himself to reason from a false assumption his pride as hunter and warrior being equally wounded lie cautiously approached the fire, around which the outlines of a group of persons, dimly seen by the blaze, were crouching. They proved to be a party of white men, and were busily engaged in the discussion of a supper of broiled venison and smoking lioecake. � The intercourse of Enemoya with the white traders, had, as we have already seen, been rather considerable, and the larger profits had not certainly lain with the red man. The chief had learned some little of the English tongue in this intercourse, however, and he suddenly stood among the strangers, introducing himself with a softly murmured: Huddye do, brudder ; I berry glad to see you in my country."
Our pioneers were fellows of the true grit," to employ their own verbal currency, � as big-limbed, muscular, hardy, and dare-devil scamps, as ever came from Roaring river." They were taken by surprise, but were on their legs in the twinkling of an eye, each brandishing his rifle, club-fashion, and feeling that his knife was convenient to his grasp. They were on the old route looking for a new route ; had drawn up stakes in a too thickly settled neighborhood, having three neighbors in a square league, and were seeking where to plant them anew in a less-crowded region. The gentle language of Enemoya reassured them.
"No fight good friends�brudders all. The Omaha chief is a friend to the pale-faces."