TE A II EEE dl EE dé di ESS 
KAIOWA ENCAMPMENT.—MEXICAN CAPTIVES. 31 
us to the mouth of a wooded creek without water flowing upon the surface. Here were the 
remains of an extensive Indian encampment, with ‘‘signs’’ quite recent. The crotched sticks ` 
of hundreds of wigwams had been left standing. The grass was closely cropped, and the trails 
to the river were large and fresh. Wild grapes were again abundant; tempting the men, some 
of whom had already suffered severely from eating to excess. Few, however, can set bounds to 
an appetite so seldom gratified upon the prairie. We soon entered a large Indian trail, which, 
leading through a deserted camp, brought us in sight of an Indian village. Great excitement 
was produced, each one being desirous to be among the first to encounter the strangers. The 
Indians met us at “ Valley river," a rapid stream, flowing into the Canadian a hundred yards 
below. A curious scene was now presented. On one side of the stream was collected a crowd 
of wild Indians, apparently in great excitement ; and on the other, our own party ; each igno- 
rant of the others and their designs. The Indians were evidently prepared for battle; decked 
out in their gayest attire, mounted on spirited horses; holding bows in their hands, and arrows 
between their fingers. As we advanced, Vincente thought proper to place a white handkerchief 
at the end of a ramrod, and wave it as a signal. Upon sight of the banner the Indians set up a 
shout, and rode rapidly to meet us. They called themselves Kái-ó-wàs, and professed friendship. 
They looked splendidly as they rode from point to point; their horses prancing, and their gay 
silver trappings glittering inthe sun. The old fellow who appeared to be the chief, or probably 
medicine man, was on foot and almost naked. He begged to ride in the carretela; and, by the 
aid of Vincente, informed us that as friends we ought to encamp at the village, and hold a council 
with them. The road beyond he represented as being exceedingly bad; and said that a long 
succession of sand-hills for two days’ journey would compel us to cross the river at this place. 
Thus accompanied by our new friends, we drove to the village, where, among a heterogeneous 
mass of old men, women, and children, were two Mexicans endeavoring to trade flour, biscuits, 
and sugar for buffalo robes and horses. They confirmed the Indian statement that there was 
no other place so good as this for an encampment, and that we would here be obliged to cross 
the river. They added that they were defenceless, with only three peons accompanying them; 
and, the Indians having robbed them of nearly all their goods, they wished to accompany us 
towards New Mexico. 
The village contained about a dozen large conical tents, and as many wigwams. The tent- 
frames were of well-made poles, fifteen to twenty feet long, interlaced at the top, and inter- 
secting the ground in a circle ten to fifteen feet in diameter. The whole were covered with 
buffalo robes, beautifully dressed, painted with curious figures, and carefully spread with the 
hair inside. To our surprise, we saw a good looking blue-eyed boy of three years old, and 
found that his mother was a Mexican captive. She said that her name was José Maria; that 
she was from Rio de Naces; had been captured by the Comanches when she was twenty, and 
. had lived with them seven years. Her beautiful boy is the son of the chief; but she wishes to 
. leave her hard masters and accompany us, in the hope of again reaching her home. She was 
watched, and dared speak but little with us. There are other captains; one a man by the name 
of Andres Nuiiares, from Chihuahua; he has been a prisoner five years. Ona pole in the centre 
of the village hung two scalps, sacredly guarded by an old woman, who made much ado if any 
one attempted to approach them. 
We pitched camp on a slight eminence overlooking the village, and could not but admire 
their selection of ground. Valley river and the Canadian are at this point fringed with timber, 
and the wide meadows are covered with a thick carpet of grass. Scarcely were the tents 
pitched when the Kái-ó-wàs began to assemble for the counsel. A wilder-looking set can scarcely 
be imagined. Cunning, duplicity, and treachery, seemed stamped upon every lineament of 
their features. Men, women, and children—all, e» cept the chiefs—were wrapped in fine blue 
blankets, which they said had been given them b; their good father, the white-haired man 
whom they had met on the northern trail. They said that he had told them that the Ameri- 
cans would continue to make presents to them so long as they behaved well. This they had 
