Interesting from Kansas

Interesting from Kansas.

A Trip to Osawkee-Free State Meeting-Speeches of Gen. Lane and others-Col.Titus Again-The Elections.

OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE.

LECOMPTON, Monday, Aug.3, 1857.

On Saturday morning last I paid a second visit to Osawkee, where the land sales are nor progressing under the direction of Dr. Norman EDDY, the commissioner, aided by Gen. WHITFIELD and Col. WOODSON, the Registrar and Receiver of the Land Office.

Osawkee is a little town with a gigantic hotel. It is situated on the high western bank of the Grasshopper Creek, a lively stream which, taking its rise in the beautiful prairies of the Kickapoo Reserve in Brown County, pursues its way southward through Brown, Atchison and Jefferson Counties, until it empties itself into the Kansas River just opposite Lecompton. Osawkee was originally a trading post for which it is peculiarly adapted, being located on the great military road from Fort Leavenworth to Santa Fe. It is almost due north of Lecompton, from which it is distant about 16 miles.

Its founders were two brothers named DYEE, who still live there. They speedily amassed considerable wealth, and but for the troubles which prevailed in the Territory last year and the year preceding, would now, doubtless, be men of large fortune. During the war, however, a troop of Free-State marauders under the command of Gen. LANE, (for we cannot conceal the fat that the ruffianism was not confined exclusively to Missouri) made a raid on their farm and household stock, and of goods and cattle plundered them, they say, to the extent of some eight thousand dollars worth.

The route from Lecompton to Osawkee is one of the most picturesque through which I have passed, though exceedingly difficult for wagons at the three several points where it crosses the Grasshopper Creek. After passing by a rope ferry over the nigh half of the Kansas River at Lecompton, we land on a sand bar, whence we wade over to the opposite side and ascend a steep and dangerous path from the water’s edge to the level of the further bank. Our way for the first mile and a half lies through the magnificent old woods of the half breed Kaw lands-thence through a beautiful level prairie for some three or four miles, until we reach the house of a rich Indian widow, whose farm and stock are worth many thousands of dollars, and would be immensely valuable in only properly care for. These Kaw Indians, however, (to which she belongs,) are the meanest, most good-for-nothing, most lying, drunken, treacherous, cowardly, lazy tribe in the whole of Kansas. They are perfectly incorrigible, and, but for the rapidity with which they die off by disease, and rink themselves to death, would be a serious impediment to the future progress and prosperity of this portion of the Territory. The house of the widow to whom I refer stands on the brink of the Grasshopper, at the base of a high and stony bluff, which stretches down to the river. Opposite the door is a small patch of corn, which, utterly neglected since it was planted, is stunted and choked, and overtopped by weeds. Behind the houses is a dirty craal in a corner of which lies a large pile of wool, sodden by the rains and rotting in the sun. A few paces from the gable of the house, which faces the river, is an excellent saw-mill, moved by water-power, but perfectly useless. Last fall a tremendous freshet broke up the dam, and, though the damage might have been thoroughly repaired at a cost of less than $100, the dam, frame-work and machinery have been permitted to go to utter wreck and ruin, without an effort at restoration.

We entered the house. A few logs were blazing on the hearth-the first fire I had seen since I entered Kansas. A rough table in the corner was covered with the debris of the morning meal. A few shelves above were filled with empty pickle bottles, dirty plates and dishes, and lumps of lard and salt beef. Several young children, fat and healthy looking, and in all the unembarrassed dignity of naked pelts, rolled through the floor in the enjoyment, apparently of the utmost happiness. A couple of elder ones, tumbling over a bed in one of the corners, wound up the fun by boxing each others’ ears about an old illustrated newspaper/ Two girls sat, one at each of the doors which gave ingress and egress on either side of the house; they were busily occupied in sewing. They exhibited no concern at our entrance, neither moved nor stirred, and it was not without some difficulty that one of them, who understands English thoroughly, and speaks it fluently when she pleases, could be got to answer our slightest questions.

These were the sisters of the widow. Their dress exhibited very little elaboration. It was the perfection of simplicity, and décolleté in the extreme. The widow herself (who appeared to be about 30) was in a little bedroom, planked off, one end of the cabin where she was performing her unpretending toilet. Though directly facing us, as we stood opposite the open door, her taciturnity and indifference never for an instant abandoned her. She rarely vouchsafed us a word. One of the party offered her some whisky out of his flask, but, to her credit be it said, she peremptorily refused. It is but seldom that an Indian exhibits so much self-denial. They can drink whisky in pints at a draught.

From the Indian woman’s house the road skirts the creek for about half-a-mile, when it crosses the stream for the first time. The bank, on either side, is so slippery, and the declivities so abrupt, as to render the crossing a task of great hazard for vehicles. This is true, also, of the other fording points between that and Osawkee. From the landing on the opposite bank the road led through the thickly wooded river edge into an open prairie, varied at first by high bluffs, whose summits are crowned by stone monuments, bearing a rude resemblance to the human figure, and erected, it is said, at a time beyond the scope of living memory, to mark some Indian trail. The route then proceeds through a level prairie for several miles until we come to another crossing, when we pass again to the left side of the river, traverse a finely timbered bottom as before, and emerge into a level prairie forming part of an Indian reserve, the dead monotony of which is unrelieved by house or hill, until we come in sight of the high ridge on which stands Osawkee. The Grasshopper Creek winds round the base of the ridge, and must again and finally be crossed ere we reach the town. The nearer bank is studded with tents devoted to eating, drinking, and gambling of every description.

The town, which is on the opposite bank contains hardly over twenty houses, of which the hotel already spoken of, and the largest in the territory, is the most prominent. An immense number of tents had been erected by enterprising grocers and barkeepers, as necessary accompaniments of the sale, so that the place looked very much like an Irish country fair, or an English race course. The privilege of erecting tents within the town was purchased, in many instances, for sums almost fabulous in their amount. I knew of one spot, twenty-five foot square, which was let for $1,000 a month. But the extent of business done by these saloons is almost incredible.

We arrived at Osawkee about half an hour before noon. The sales had just closed for the day. An hour or two later the land office was to open to receive payment from the purchasers.

In the course of my stroll through the place I found myself in a ravine which runs across the town and on looking through it I observed a number of people seated on logs and planks in the form of a hollow square, the centre of which was occupied by a couple of gentlemen who appearance immediately struck me as being somewhat familiar. One of them was stroking his beard with indulgent complacency, whilst his fixed stare indicated that he was immersed in profound cogitation. His companion, a sober, steady, “sound and reliable” looking personage, as my friend Brown says-(I mean Brown, of New York, of course)-appears to be absorbed beyond all hope of recovery in the entries on the sheet of letter paper which lay before him. On advancing, I was saluted in a most friendly and unexpected manner by these gentlemen and found that they were the Judges if the Squatters’ court for the trial of contested claims, a tribunal of extraordinary jurisdiction where neither Judges, officers nor witnesses are sworn, and from whose decision there is no appeal. It may, perhaps, be proper to state that these judicial functionaries were named respectively E.D. PERRIN, late of Tennessee, and R. L. STEVENS, late of New York.