188 AN UNFAILING SUPPLY OF VICTIMS. [1859.

piece. The gambler covers it with another. The victim points to the card with a raised corner when lo! it is not the ace of hearts after all. At the last moment the operator dexterously turned down the corner of that and turned up the corner of another!

'My friend, you have lost. It is very plain and simple, but you can't always tell. Here you are, gentlemen; the ace, and the ace. Who will go me twenty dollars?'

The last sufferer, from sheer anger, bets again and loses again. After being mulcted of a hundred dollars he goes his there is always a fresh victim ready to take his place.

way. But Sometimes the gambler permits a stranger to win once or twice for the sake of leading him on. Again a bystander familiar with the game wins two or three times in succession; then the sporting orator refuses to take more bets from him. When the game flags, a secret confederate or pigeon' in the crowd offers a few wagers and wins, refunding the money when they are alone.

As a class, the gamblers were entertaining in conversation, had curious experiences to relate, evinced great knowledge of human nature, and were specially kind to each other in misfortune. Some were gentlemanly in manners. Like all men who gain money easily, they were open-handed and charitable. I never saw a place where more dollars could be obtained in less time for a helpless woman or orphan than among those gaming tables.

I saw the probate judge of the county lose thirty Denver lots in less than ten minutes, at cards, in this public saloon on Sunday morning; and afterward observed the county sheriff pawning his revolver for twenty dollars to spend in betting at faro There were no women and children; and hence none of that public opinion without which few men can stand alone.

One New Yorker still under thirty-five, had been successively owner of a Lake Erie steamer, captain of a Cape Cod fishing craft, professional gambler in Cuba, real-estate speculator in Leavenworth and stage driver on the great plains. Here he was a successful lawyer. But when last I saw him he had been a cripple for months-the result of an accidental shot from the pistol of his law partner, who had taken a drop too much.

Among the Denver pioneers I found a relative whom I had last

1859.]

THE TURNS OF FORTUNE'S WHEEL.

189

met as a New York wholesale merchant, in the glossiest of broadcloth and the most spotless of linen. Now he wore the half

One of the chief

Mexican, half-Indian costume of the country. thoroughfares, Blake street, still bears his name. Denver had its weekly. Rocky Mountain News. Editor and printers cooked ate and slept in the one room of the log building where articles were written, type set and paper worked off.

There were no public mails. Private enterprise is always far in advance of Government, and the express company brought all letters from the Missouri river-one thousand per day-for twentyfive cents each.

There was no paper money and the smallest coin in circulation was twenty-five cents. The people of the frontier have never taken kindly to coppers. In 1794, when the first barrel of them was introduced in Cincinnati by a merchant, the citizens were disgusted and his brother traders with difficulty restrained from mobbing him. In Kansas three-cent pieces passed for five cents, and in New Mexico eight dimes for one dollar. Says a European writer: Money must be very plentiful and people very prosperous, where the smallest coin is five or ten cents.'

The thousand Arapahoes encamped in the heart of the city were ordinarily peaceful, but dangerous when intoxicated. One evening I saw a brawny brave, with a club thwack two of his drunken brethren upon their heads, so lustily that the blows were heard a quarter of a mile away. Then musing for some minutes, he solemnly ejaculated:

'Whisky bad! Make Indian bad.'

-

After which bit of wisdom he walked thoughtfully away. In ten minutes however, he returned with a bottle and a silver dollar and begged me to buy whisky for him. Like Hosea Bigelow he was 'in favor of the Maine Law, but agin' its enforcement.'

The Arapahoes, always treacherous and bloodthirsty, are now almost extinct from wars and small-pox-that terrible scourge of their race. They are thoroughly migratory. At a moment's notice they

'Fold their tents like the Arabs
And as silently steal away.'

190

ALMOST ONE OF COOPER'S HEROES.

[1859. They sometimes devour the entrails of animals; and I have seen squaws and children pluck and eat greedily vermin from their own heads. Chastity is unknown among their women; and nearly all suffer from loathsome diseases. Young girls are sold by their parents to Indians or white men-usually in exchange for one horse; but special beauty or aristocratic lineage sometimes commands four or five.

The savage like Falstaff is a coward on instinct-also treacherous, filthy and cruel. But one chief, the 'Little Raven,' was the nearest approximation I ever met to the Ideal Indian. He had a fine manly form and a human, trustworthy face. To spend an hour in our cabin was his custom always of an afternoon; and, though his entire ignorance of English was only equaled by my utter innocence of Arapahoe, we held pleasant communion together. Our conversations were carried on by signs and the very few words we had in common. The tongue was weak, but the gesticulation eloquent.

Usually by some means we could make each other comprehend; but twice or thrice we became, as actors say, hopelessly 'stuck.' Then my visitor sent for one 'Left IIand,' a linguist; for as Day & Martin the great blacking manufacturers, 'kept a poet,' so the chief of the Arapahoes maintained an interpreter. Left Hand spoke English fluently, having acquired it from traders in boyhood, and soon extricated us from our conversational quagmire. I will report from memory one of our interviews:

Little Raven enters; salutes me with a cordial grunt and a shake of the hand. I place him in the only chair our cabin affords, perching myself upon the table; fill his long pipe with Virginia tobacco, light a cigar on my own account; and then ensues a period of solemn and smoky silence. An occasional remark is ventured about the Utes, the weather, the mines; gradually we become communicative and at last familiar. He studies one of my maps with great curiosity and attention; inquires earnestly for the whereabouts upon it of the great father at Washington; and asks other questions which show how vague stories of the wonders of civilization have thrilled his simple heart, as fabulous tales of the New World thrilled the Spaniards of old. At last he folds the map and interrogates me on personal matters:

1859.] A VISIT FROM THE ARAPAHOE CHIEF.

Who is my lame companion lying upon the bunk?

191

I reply that he is a great chief and named the 'Goose Quill,' endeavoring to explain that his realm and authority are purely

intellectual, but giving up in despair when the Raven interrupts me to ask how many horses he owns!

Where is my lodge?

I signify that it is by the great waters a hundred sleeps away; at which he gazes in wonder, tinged with that incredulity which civilized persons sometimes manifest for the tales of travelers.

How many squaws and papooses have I?

When I have replied with due humility, he exultantly assures me that he is the happy husband of seven squaws and the proud parent of ten papooses. The comparison is odious; he evidently feels his social superiority

How many horses have I?

192

A CONVERSATION WITH LITTLE RAVEN. [1859 Sorrowfully I admit that I can lay claim to no solitary piece of horse-flesh. The Raven answers by pointing triumphantly at his thirty sleek ponies grazing on the adjacent prairie. As one's wealth and position in Arapahoe eyes depend solely upon the number of his wives and horses, I feel that the Raven is becoming directly personal and inferentially abusive. So I place him in the witness-box, and become questioner myself:

How many revolvers has he?

He shrugs his shoulders-a pantomimic cipher. I produce Colt's new patent which he examines with great curiosity and admiration; handling it cautiously, as if it were an infernal machine, and showing a childish satisfaction not unmingled with terror, as I discharge the five barrels in rapid succession.

How much, he ventures to ask, did it cost?

I mention an almost fabulous sum and his respect for me is visibly augmented. Even the Indian is moved by the almighty dollar or rather the almighty half-dollar; for that is the only de nomination of specie in which he will receive payments. I follow up my advantage:

How many locomotives has he?

A mournful shake of the head is his only response; and while I convey to him crude ideas of the fiery, untiring monster which will carry me further in one sleep (day) than his fleetest horse can bear him in ten, he manifests intense interest, signifying that he has heard of the prodigy before, but never saw him. The impression left upon his mind, that I am the individual owner of several of these monsters, I am careful not to dissipate; and thereafter he treats me with the profound deference due a 'big Injun' and a fit associate of the Arapahoe monarch. And so, the topics of the day exhausted, with another cordial hand-shaking, he takes his departure.

Alas for Little Raven! Immortality did not hedge the king; and a year later he was killed in battle with the Utes.