War party after war party of Cheyennes and Arrapahoes entered the country of their old enemies the Apaches and Utahs, but returned unable to find them.  Yellow Bear, a head war chief of the Arrapahoes, did not accompany his braves on these expeditions, and he would not believe that they could not find either the Apaches or Utahs; therefore, to show his people that there was one warrior living of the olden stamp, he started, accompanied only by his youngest squaw, to meet and fight them.  A severe snow-storm compelled this noble chieftain to come into Fort Massachusetts.  While he was there the commanding officer of the post endeavored to dissuade him from his rash undertaking.  In reply the chief said: 

“Captain, my young men are no longer warriors.  They have become squaws.  I sent them to seek our nation’s enemies.  They went, discovered their fires and counted their lodges, but were afraid to attack them.  I am now on my way to find the Utah village, where I intend, either to smoke the pipe of peace, or offer fight to any three of their chiefs.  If they kill me otherwise than fairly, perhaps it will stir up once more the fire in the breast of the warriors of the Arrapahoe nation.”

This speech was delivered with so much pathos, and yet with such an oratorical air, that the interpreter was enabled to catch and translate every word of it.  Yellow Bear was now informed of the recent campaign against the Utahs and Apaches, but the news made no change in his determination.  The advice was words thrown away, as he was found conversant with the whole proceedings of the campaign.  We have brought in this incident to show how surrounding tribes are directly affected and personally interested in the results of all military transactions with hostile Indians.  As we have taken up for a theme the story of this brave and really noble Indian, it may prove interesting to some of our readers if we complete the picture.  Yellow Bear has always been the firm friend of Kit Carson both by word and action.  He is the finest specimen of an Indian that the writer ever laid eyes on.  He stands in his moccasins over six feet; is straight and symmetrically proportioned.  The head, however, is the main attraction of this Indian.  Never was a statesman possessed of a better.  We once heard him address a large council of his warriors, and, although we could not understand one word he said, yet our attention was fixed on the man, for we never saw either before or since such majestic gestures, mixed with equal grace, in any speaker.  It was a master-piece of acting, and from the “humphs,” or grunts, ejaculated by his auditors, we were inclined to think that the speech was impressive.  There is one great point about this chief which those who are familiar with the Indian race, as they now exist, cannot but admire.  He has never been known to beg; rather than do this, we believe, he would actually starve.  We will finish this description of Yellow Bear by adding that he finally listened to the advice of the then commanding officer of Fort Massachusetts, and returned to his own nation.