342 INDIANS. 



When a young man new to the plains, with a heart 

 full of romance and head stored with Cooper's and others 

 fictions of ' beautiful Indian maidens ' I was on the 



escort of General S , commanding the Department, 



on a long scout, or reconnaissance, through Texas. One 

 day, when camped near what afterwards became Fort 

 Belknap, we were visited by a then prominent chief of 

 the Northern Comanches, Pa-ha-yu-ka, who brought 

 with him a few warriors and his family several wives 

 and one daughter. The daughter was a vision of loveli- 

 ness, apparently about fourteen, but ripened by the 

 Southern sun to perfect womanhood. Eather below the 

 medium height, her form was slight and lithe, though 

 rounded into the utmost symmetry. Her features were 

 regular, lips and teeth simply perfection, eyes black, 

 bright and sparkling with fun, and the whole countenance 

 beaming with good humour and bewitching coquetry. 

 A tightly-fitting tunic of the softest buckskin, beautifully 

 embroidered with porcupine quills, reaching half way 

 between the hip and the knee, set off to admiration her 

 rounded form. The bottom of the tunic was a con- 

 tinuous fringe of thin buckskin strings, from each of which 

 dangled a little silver bell, not larger than the cup of a 

 small acorn. Her lower limbs were encased in elabo- 

 rately fringed leggings, and her little feet in beaded 

 mocassins of elaborate pattern. Her beautiful hair was 

 plaited down her back, and adorned with huge silver 

 buckles. The parting of her hair was carefully marked 

 with vermilion paint, and a long gold, or brass, chain 

 was twisted carelessly about her hair and neck. What 

 wonder if, with one look, I literally tumbled into love. 

 She saw my admiration, and, with the innate coquetry of 

 the sex in every clirne and of every people, met my 

 eager glances with a thousand winning airs and graces. 

 We could not speak, but love has a language of its own. 

 I haunted that Indian camp fire. Neither duty nor 

 hunger could tear me a.way ; and it was only when the 



