Page:The life and adventures of James P. Beckwourth, mountaineer, scout, pioneer, and chief of the Crow nation of Indians (IA lifeadventuresof00beckrich).pdf/179

Rh and I did not intend they ever should, if I could raise a voice to prevent it. They were constantly at war with tribes who coveted the scalps of the white man, but the Crows were uniformly faithful in their obligations to my race, and would rather serve than injure their white brethren without any consideration of profit.

“In addition to this, Self-interest would whisper her counsel. I knew I could acquire the riches of Crœsus if I could but dispose of the valuable stock of peltry I had the means of accumulating. I required but an object in view to turn the attention of the Indians to the thousands of traps that were laid by to rust. I would occasionally use arguments to turn them from their unprofitable life, and engage them in peaceful industry. But I found the Indian would be Indian still, in spite of my efforts to improve him.

They would answer, "Our enemies steal our horses; we must fight and get them back again, or steal in turn. Without horses we can make no surrounds, nor could we, to protect our lives, fight our foes when they attack our villages."

Of course these arguments were unanswerable. So long as they were surrounded with enemies, they must be prepared to defend themselves. The large majority of Indian troubles arise from their unrestrained appropriation of each other's horses. It is their only branch of wealth; like the miser with his gold, their greed for horses cannot be satisfied. All their other wants are merely attended to from day to day; their need supplied, they look no farther; but their appetite for horses is insatiable; they are ever demanding more.

Mildrum and myself had a long conversation on the subject while he was smarting from the injury he received in leaping from the fort. He would say, "Beckwourth, I am pretty well used to this Indian life; there is a great deal in it that charms me. But when I think of my old Kentucky home—of father, mother, and other friends whom I tenderly love, and with whom I could be so happy, I wonder at the vagabond spirit that holds me here among these savages, fighting their battles, and risking my life and scalp, which I fairly suppose exceeds in value ten thousand of these blood-thirsty heathen. How, in the name of all that is sacred, can we reconcile ourselves to it? Why don't we leave them?"