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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Gather everybody into the fort. We must repair it and be ready for a siege. When I left Chillicothe four days ago the Injuns had armed and painted for the war-path and they'll be on us any moment." That changed the scene. There was calling and running. Boone ate a few mouthfuls, while directing.
From them we learned that the Rogue River Indians in southern Oregon were on the war-path, and that as the "regular troops up there were of no account, the citizens had taken matters in hand, and intended cleaning up the hostiles." They swaggered about our camp, bragged a good deal, cursed the Indians loudly, and soundly abused the Government for not giving them better protection.
Two prairie-wolves, in a fugued duet, can emit more disquieting noise, with a less proportion of harmony, than any aggregation of several times their equal in numbers, not excepting Indians on the war-path or a "gutter" band.
I say, John, I see the smoke of the redskin camp. 'Where? Show me, and I'll tell you by the way the smoke curls whether they are on the war-path. 'There, just across the Mysterious River. 'I see now. Yes, they are on the war-path right enough.
He had all the noble qualities of an Indian, being handsome and brave, and generous, and kind, and to her very gentle and affectionate. Now she became thoroughly reconciled to Indian life, her greatest sorrow being the necessary absence of her husband on the war-path and hunting excursions.
He informed them that the prisoner, whom they had just condemned to the stake, was his ancient comrade and bosom friend; that they had traveled the same war-path, slept upon the same blanket, and dwelt in the same wigwam.
This proposition fell in entirely with the war-like Voalavo's views, and, a band of the young hunters and fruit-gatherers entering the cave at that moment, he urged them to make haste with their dinner and get ready for the war-path. Ever-ready as young blades usually are for fighting, these youths threw down their loads quickly.
It is a tradition of these times, that the savage who killed le Maitre, having wrapped the bloody head in a cloth, the face of the martyred priest was distinctly imprinted thereon, and so indelible was the impression that when the terrified savage displayed the cloth in his native village as a trophy of the war-path, the features of le Maitre were instantly recognized, the murderer being cuttingly upbraided for his cruelty by the braves of his tribe.
It's wonderful, in spite of the holy war that's being preached, and all the lies about him sprinkled over this part of Africa, how they all fear him, and find it hard to be out on the war-path against him. We should be gorging the vultures if he wasn't the wonder he is. We need boats. Does he sit down and wring his hands? No, he organises, and builds them out of scraps.
"Or p'r'aps I'd best say McLagan's quit me. Say, I'm out on the war-path, chasing cattle-rustlers," he went on, with a smile. "That bunch of cattle coming in with my brand on 'em has set my name stinking some with Mac, and I guess it's up to me to disinfect it. Eh?" His final ejaculation was made at Rocket.
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