Page:The life and adventures of James P. Beckwourth, mountaineer, scout, pioneer, and chief of the Crow nation of Indians (IA lifeadventuresof00beckrich).pdf/211

Rh will assist you all in my power. You are a great brave, and have gained many victories for us, and it is but right that your desires should be gratified."

"Thank you," said I; "but I will try alone first, and if I do not succeed, then I shall be very glad of your assistance."

As an acknowledgment for the prompt tender of his services, I presented him with a quantity of tobacco, "Now," added I, "I want you to call in all your neighbours to-night, and let them smoke as long as they please. After they are assembled, bar the door of your lodge, and amuse them as long as you can with the rehearsal of your adventures. In the meantime, I will be engaged."

I then went to my bosom friend and brother, and made part to him of what I had in hand, which revelation greatly amused him. I requested him to act as sentry over the lodge where they were all smoking—Big Rain with the rest, for I had seen him enter—and remain there until he was satisfied they had filled their pipes for the last time, and then to call out to me, but to mislead them in the place where he was addressing me. This he promised to perform, and we both started on our errands.

I went to Big Rain's lodge, dressed and painted in the extreme of the fashion, and saw the lady reclining, half asleep, upon her couch, and several of her female relatives asleep about the room. Nothing daunted, I strode to the couch of Mrs. Big Rain, and laid my hand gently on her brow.

She started up, saying, "Who is here?"

"Hush!" I replied; "it is I."

"What do you want here?"

"I have come to see you, because I love you."

"Don't you know that I am the chief's wife?"

"Yes, I know it; but he does not love you as I do. He never goes to war, but stays idly in the village. I am a great brave, and always go to war. I can paint your face, and bring you fine horses; but so long as you are the wife of Big Rain, he will never paint your face with new coos."

"My husband will kill you."

"Well, then the Crows will talk of you for many winters, and say that the great brave, 'The Bloody Arm,' died for a pretty woman."