tention to everything that was transpiring. When I lived in Europe and during my travels I saw many pictures, but I never saw anything like this. I had always hoped to see Indians smoking the peace pipe and now it was reality. They did not smoke tobacco but various herbs, leaves, flowers, bark, roots, etc. They mix all this together and call the mixture kiniket. They inhale a long draught of smoke, like a Turk and pass the iron or stone pipe around, until all have partaken of it. They force the smoke slowly out of their ears, nose and mouth.
Every Omaha Indian is proud of himself and of his ancestry. His hair is always carefully groomed. From his brow to the top of his head it rises like the comb of a rooster, three inches high, the rest is cut short. The old Indians do not wear these combs, their hair is combed over half the face. Others have the hair pasted with something that looks like tar and is smooth as dry mud. It produces ferocious look. What a photograph they would make! They smear their faces with various kinds of colors, mostly yellow and red. Their eyebrows and ears are usually painted red. All of them are almost half naked. One of these Indians had received or traded for an old pair of pants, but he did not know what to do with the seat and legs. He cut away all except a small piece on each side, the rest he has no use for. They wear elk hide shoes. They are a lot of proud, conceited Omahas, they feel they are armed and have been to war. Each has a little board six inches wide and two feet long, pointed at one end, a little piece of looking-glass fastened in the center. Each sticks this board before him into the ground and when he thinks no one is looking at him, observes himself in the glass and preens his hair and otherwise attends to his toilet.
They would not allow us to go into their village all together. We had to divide ourselves into three parts, leave all our weapons in the wagons hebind us and then, while half the Indians acted as guard over us, we were lead through their village.
I will try to make it plain how an Indian village looks. Imagine hoops such as are used at home in raising hops, arranged into a rounded pyramid and tied firmly together at the top, making a cone-shaped structure eight feet in diameter at the base. Twenty or thirty of these stand together about fifteen steps apart. Beginning close at the bottom they are wrapped or covered with hairless buffalo robes and hides, clear to the top. An entire Indian family lives in each. Inside these wigwams, on the floor, are skins of wild animals, that is the only furnishing and serve for a bed. One of the Indians invited us into his wigwam but we could see nothing except a few dried Indian scalps. He made signs and pointed to them, saying: “Pownee heap bad Indians.” The Pawnees are a neighboring tribe. No women were to be seen in the willage. Before we left we had to smoke the pipe of peace or friendship once more, but we did not get the horse and so we returned without accomplishing anything. All the goods are loaded on the wagons and tomorrow afternoon we shall start.
In the evening we received another visit from the Indians. It was a fine evening. The Indian agent kindly asked one of the Indians if they would sing for us. Five old and eight young Indians climbed into a wagon, stood up and began to sing in a monotone, then with more variation in a higher voice, until all were “ki-ki-ing” with all their might. When this part of the singing ended, they began hollering and imitating all sorts of animals. One barked like a dog, another howled like a wolf, a third mewed like a cat and this unearthly noice was continued for a long time, with the same melody.
On July 14th, at two o’clock in the afternoon, the trumpet gave first warning for everyone to be at his post, with his oxen yoked up and ready. Tra-tra-tra-tra, now boys hurrah! Forward for the plains! Names of places on the pictures: (Note of transcriber: Evidently some descriptive booklet or literature): 1. Camp.—2. Chimney Rock.—3. Courthouse Rock, Scott’s Bluff.—4. Indians chasing buffalo.—5. Laramie Peak.—6. Devil’s Gate.—7. Castle Rock.—8. Emigrant train passing Wind River Mountains.—9. Stuck Fort (or fast).—10. Driving stock across the plains.—11. Mouth of Ash Hollow.—12. Scene on the desert, Nebraska Territory. I sent five leaves (pages).
The whole train streached out a mile long, the wagons being thirty steps from each other. We travelled about two miles back over the road we had come on and then turned straight west. The road led us by the Catholic mission and we stopped there for fresh water. The next place where we can get water is twelve miles away, the same being true of wood for fuel. We filled kegs and all other kinds of vessels with water to drink and cook with. The mission is a fairly good looking and comfortable house, with a small bell thereon. There is a square yard around the house and a well in the center (a courtyard?). A hand and a horse power mill, Indians are shelling Turkish wheat (corn). There is not much to it, this is about all it consists of. We got all the water we needed and also a new passenger, a half-breed Indian, on his way to Salt Lake City. He hired out to us as hunter and interpreter.
Before we left the mission I was so fortunate as to get sight of the missionary, a Catholic priest who here, as usual, has the form of a round barrel. He looked as if nothing were worrying him, or minded living in isolation and fear. It looks as if husbandry flourished here and the kitchen was well provided. A young lady cook is calling him and attracted our attention. I looked at her sharply and thought to myself that the reverend missionary had a good taste. I returned to the wagon with the water, I and another youngster. As we were going along carrying the water, a chicken flew out of the grass before us. “Look, a nest and in it fifteen good eggs. Whatever we find out on the range belongs to us!” The priest’s fowls were gathered around the house in the yard and we saw many in the hen coops, where many chickens were cackling, so we took the eggs out of the nest without feeling remorse. Wishing the missionary good health and fame, we conscientiously ate them all.
We travelled until seven o’clock that day. The following day our captain changed plans about starting out early in the morning. He observed that the cattle began to graze at sunrise and before they were satisfied, it took a good two hours’ time. This was fine for us cooks, we had more time to rest in the morning. The next day we travelled eighteen miles and wanted to make night camp beside a nice spring. We all had had our supper and some had gone to bed when the herders of the cattle came running into camp, all breathless and almost falling over with fright. They brought the startling news that a large band of Indians were coming to attack us, that they could hear their war cries and are coming nearer and nearer. Hurry all, for your weapons. Helter-skelter, everybody is running about and there and arming
