The Scalp Hunters | Page 4

was."
"Charles?"
"Yes, that is the name."
"I am--"
I pulled out my note of introduction, and banded it to the gentleman, who glanced over its contents.
"My dear friend," said he, grasping me cordially, "very sorry I have not been here. I came down the river this morning. How stupid of Walton not to superscribe to Bill Bent! How long have you been up?"
"Three days. I arrived on the 10th."
"You are lost. Come, let me make you acquainted. Here, Bent! Bill! Jerry!"
And the next moment I had shaken hands with one and all of the traders, of which fraternity I found that my new friend, Saint Vrain, was a member.
"First gong that?" asked one, as the loud scream of a gong came through the gallery.
"Yes," replied Bent, consulting his watch. "Just time to 'licker.' Come along!"
Bent moved towards the saloon, and we all followed, nemine dissentiente.
The spring season was setting in, and the young mint had sprouted--a botanical fact with which my new acquaintances appeared to be familiar, as one and all of them ordered a mint julep. This beverage, in the mixing and drinking, occupied our time until the second scream of the gong summoned us to dinner.
"Sit with us, Mr. Haller," said Bent; "I am sorry we didn't know you sooner. You have been lonely."
And so saying, he led the way into the dining-room, followed by his companions and myself.
I need not describe a dinner at the "Planters'," with its venison steaks, its buffalo tongues, its prairie chickens, and its delicious frog fixings from the Illinois "bottom." No; I would not describe the dinner, and what followed I am afraid I could not.
We sat until we had the table to ourselves. Then the cloth was removed, and we commenced smoking regalias and drinking madeira at twelve dollars a bottle! This was ordered in by someone, not in single bottles, but by the half-dozen. I remembered thus far well enough; and that, whenever I took up a wine-card, or a pencil, these articles were snatched out of my fingers.
I remember listening to stories of wild adventures among the Pawnees, and the Comanches, and the Blackfeet, until I was filled with interest, and became enthusiastic about prairie life. Then someone asked me, would I not like to join them in "a trip"? Upon this I made a speech, and proposed to accompany my new acquaintances on their next expedition: and then Saint Vrain said I was just the man for their life; and this pleased me highly. Then someone sang a Spanish song, with a guitar, I think, and someone else danced an Indian war-dance; and then we all rose to our feet, and chorused the "Star-spangled Banner"; and I remember nothing else after this, until next morning, when I remember well that I awoke with a splitting headache.
I had hardly time to reflect on my previous night's folly, when the door opened, and Saint Vrain, with half a dozen of my table companions, rushed into the room. They were followed by a waiter, who carried several large glasses topped with ice, and filled with a pale amber-coloured liquid.
"A sherry cobbler, Mr. Haller," cried one; "best thing in the world for you: drain it, my boy. It'll cool you in a squirrel's jump."
I drank off the refreshing beverage as desired.
"Now, my dear friend," said Saint Vrain, "you feel a hundred per cent, better! But, tell me, were you in earnest when you spoke of going with us across the plains? We start in a week; I shall be sorry to part with you so soon."
"But I was in earnest. I am going with you, if you will only show me how I am to set about it."
"Nothing easier: buy yourself a horse."
"I have got one."
"Then a few coarse articles of dress, a rifle, a pair of pistols, a--"
"Stop, stop! I have all these things. That is not what I would be at, but this: You, gentlemen, carry goods to Santa F��. You double or treble your money on them. Now, I have ten thousand dollars in a bank here. What should hinder me to combine profit with pleasure, and invest it as you do?"
"Nothing; nothing! A good idea," answered several.
"Well, then, if any of you will have the goodness to go with me, and show me what sort of merchandise I am to lay in for the Santa F�� market, I will pay his wine bill at dinner, and that's no small commission, I think."
The prairie men laughed loudly, declaring they would all go a-shopping with me; and, after breakfast, we started in a body, arm-in-arm.
Before dinner I had invested nearly all my disposable funds in printed calicoes, long knives, and looking-glasses, leaving just money enough to purchase mule-waggons and hire teamsters at Independence, our point of departure for the plains.
A few days after,