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ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 
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 MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITION 
 
 OP TUB 
 
 NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS: 
 
 IN A SERIES OP 
 
 LETTERS AND NOTES 
 
 WRITTEN DURING EIGHT YEARS OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE AMONG THE 
 WILDEST AND MOST REMARKABLE TRIBES NOW EXISTING, 
 
 WITH THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY ENGRAVINGS, 
 
 FROM THB 
 
 ^utI)or'fl (!^rtatnal ^atnttngtf. 
 
 BY GEO. CATLIN. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 SEVENTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 MDCCCXLVTIL 
 
m 
 
 
 i 
 
 C. and J. AUIard, PrlnUra, Uartholomew CIomi 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Frontispiece -.—The Author painting a Chief in an Indian Village, 
 Map of Indian Localitiei embraced within the Author'i Traveit. 
 
 LETTER— No. 1. 
 
 Wyoming, birth-place of the Author, p. 2. — His former Profession — First cavse of his 
 Travels to the Indian Country — Delegation of Indians in Philadelphia — First start to 
 the Far West, in 1832, p. 3. — Design of forming a National Gallery — Numbers of Tribes 
 visited, and number of Paintings and other things collected, p. 4. — Probable extinction 
 of the Indians, p. 5. — Former and present numbers of —The proper mode of approaching 
 them, and estimating their character, p. 5 — 10. 
 
 CERTincATES of Government Officers, Indian Agents and others, as to the fidelity of the 
 Portraits and other Paintings, p. 11 — 13. ■* 
 
 LETTER— No. 2. 
 
 Mouth of Yellofv Stone, p. 14, pi. 3. — Distance from St. Louis — Difficulties of the 
 Missouri — Politeness of Mr. Chouteau and Major Sanford — Fur Company's Fort — 
 Indian Epicures — New and true School for the Arts — Beautiful Models, p. 14 — 16. 
 
 LETTER— No. 3, Mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 Character of Missouri River, p. 18, pi. 4. — Beautiful prairie shores, p. 19, pi. 5. — Pic- 
 turesque clay bluffs, p. 19, pi. 6. — First appearance of a steamer at the Yellow Stone, 
 and curious conjectures of the Indians about it, p. 20. — Fur Company's Establishment 
 at the mouth of Yellow Stone — M'Kenzie — His table and politeness, p. 21. — Indian 
 tribes in this vicinity, p. 22. 
 
 LETTER— No. 4, Mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 Upper Missouri Indians — General character, p. 23. — Buffaloes — Description of, p. 24, 
 pis. 7, 8.— Modes of killing them— Buffalo-hunt, p. 25.— Chardon's Leap, p. 26, pi. 9.— 
 Wounded bull, p. 26 pi. IQ —Extraordinary feat of Mr. M'Kenzie, p. 27.— Return 
 from the chase, p. 28. 
 
 ' A 2 
 
,J 
 
 If 
 
 LETTER— No. 5, Mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 Anthor'a painting-room, nnd clmracters in it, p. !i!9. — lilackfoot chief, p.29, pi. 11. Oth«r 
 
 Blackfoot cliiefg, and their costumes, p. 30. — Ulackfoot woman and child, p. 30, 
 pis. 14, 13. — Scalps, and objects for which taken — red pipes, and pipe-stone quarry, p. 31. 
 — Blackfoot bows, shields, arrows and lances, p. 3S, 33, pi. 18. — Several distinguished 
 Ulackfeet, p. 34, pig. 14, 15, 16, 17. 
 
 LETTER— No. 6, Mouth or Yellow Ston e. 
 
 Medicines or mysteries — medicine-bng — origin of the word medicine, p. 35.— Mode of 
 forming the medicine-bag, p. 36. — Value of the medicine-bag to the Indian, and mate- 
 rials for their construction, p. 37, pi. 18, — Blackfoot doctor or medicine-man— his mode 
 of curlag the sick, p. 39, pi. 19. — Different oflSces and importance of medicine-men, 
 p. 41. 
 
 LETTER— No. 7, Mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 Crows and Blackfeet — General character and appearance, p. 42. — Killing and drying 
 meat, p. 43, pi. 22. — Crovr lodge or wigwam, p. 43, pi. 20. — Striking their tents and 
 encampment moving, p. 44, pi. 21. — Mode of dressing and smoking skins, p. 45. — 
 Crows — Beauty of their dresses — Horse-stealing or capturing — Reasons why they are 
 called rogues and robbers of the first order, &c. p. 46. 
 
 LETTER— No. 8, Mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 Furt..v. remarks on the Crows — Extraordinary length of hair, p. 49. — Peculiarities of the 
 Crow head, and several portraits, p. 50, pis. 24, 25, 26, 27. — Crow and Blackfeet women 
 — Their modes of dressing and painting, p. 51. — Differences between the Crow and 
 Blackfoot languages, p. 51 . — Different bands — Different lang ges, and numbers of the 
 Blackfeet, p. 52. — Knisteneaux — Assinneboins, and Ojibbeways, p. 53. — Assinneboins 
 a part of the Sioux — Their mode of boiling meat, p. 54, — Pipe-dance, p. 55, pi. 32.-— 
 Wi-jun-jon (a chief) and wife, pis. 20, 29. — His visit to Washington, p. 56, — Dresses 
 of women and children of the Assinneboins, p. 57, pi. 34. — Knisteneaux (or Crees)— 
 character and numbers, and several portraits, p. 67, pis. 30, 31. — Ojibbeways — Chief 
 and wife, p. 58, pis. 35, 36. 
 
 LETTER— No. 9, Mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 Contemplations of the Great Far West and its customs, p. 69. — Old acquaintance, 
 p. 60.— March and effects of civilization, p. 60.— The '< Far West"— The Author in 
 search of it, p. 62.— Meeting with " Ba'tiste," a Irce trapper, p. 63, 64. 
 
 LETTER— No. 10, Mandan Village, Upper Missouri. 
 
 A strange place — Voyage from Mouth of Yellow Stone down the river to Mandans — 
 Commencement — Leave M'Kenzie's Fort, p. 66. — Assinneboins encamped on the river 
 - Wi jun-jon lecturing on the customs of w bite people— Mountain-sheep, p. 67.^- 
 
 ' 
 
War-eagleB — Ciritzly bears, p, 68. — CIny bliilTii, " brick-kilus," Tolcanio lemaini, p. (39, 
 pin. 37, 3a. — Hed pumice stone— A wild stroll — Mountaineer's sleep, p. 70. — C/rizxlv 
 hear nnd cubs — Courageous attack — Canoo robbed, p. 71. — Ealing our meals on • 
 pile of drift-wood — Enciimping in the nigbt — Voluptuous scene of wild flowers, bufl'alo 
 bush and berries, p. 72. — Adventure after an elk — VVar-purty discovered, p. 74 — Mag- 
 nificent scenery in the " Lirand U6tour" — Stupendous cloy bluffs — Table land, p. 75. 
 pi. 39. — Antelope shooting, p. 76, pi. 40. — "Grand Dome" — Prairie dogs — Village — 
 Fruitless endeavours to shoot them, p. 77, pi, 4'A, — I'ictured bluff and the Three Domes, 
 p. 78, pis. 43, 44.— Arrival at the Mandan village, p. 79. 
 
 LETTER — No. 11, Mandan Vii-laoe. 
 
 Location — Village, p. 80, pi. 4.5. — Former locations, fortification of their village- Descrip- 
 tion of village and mode of constructing their wigwams, p. 81, 8!2. — Description of 
 interior — Beds — Weapons — Family groups, p. 82, 83, pi. 46. — Indian garrulity — Jokes 
 — Fire-side fun and story-telling, p. 84. — Causes of Indian taciturnity in civilized 
 society, p. 85. 
 
 LETTER— No. 12, Mandan Village. 
 Bird's-eye view of the villoge, p. 87, pi. 47.— The "big canoe"— Medicine-lodge— A 
 strange medley, p. 88. — Mode of depositing the dead on scaffolds, p. 89.— R ^pect to 
 the dead— Visiting the dead— Feeding the dead — Converse with the dead- Bones of 
 the dead, p. 90, pi. 48. 
 
 LETTER— No. 13, Mandan Village. 
 
 The wolf-chief— Head-chief of the tribe, p. 92, pi. 49 — Several portraits, p. 92, pis. .50, 
 51, 52,53. — Personal appearance--Peculiarities — Complexion, p. 93. — "Cheveux gris, 
 p. 94. —Hair of the men— Ilai. of the women, p. 95, pi. 54.— Bathing and swimming, 
 p. 96. — Mode of swimming — Sudatories or vapour-baths, p. 97-8, pi. 71. 
 
 LETTER— No. 14, Mandan Village. 
 
 Costumes of the Mandans— High value set upon them— Two horses for a head-dress — 
 Made of war-eagles' quills and ermine, p. 100, 101.— Head-dresses with horns, p. 103 
 — A Jewish custom, p. 104. 
 
 LETTER— No. 15, Mandan Village. 
 
 Astonishment of the Mandans ut the operation of the Author's brush, p. 105.— The Author 
 installed medicine or medicine-man, p. 106.— Crowds around the Author— Curiosity to 
 see and to touch him, p. 107,— Superstitious fears for those who were painted, p. 108.— 
 Objections raised to being painted, p. 109.— The Author's operations opposed by ■ 
 Mandan doctor, or medicine-man, and how brought over, p. 110, pi. 55. 
 
vf 
 LETTER — N'>. 16, Man dan Village. 
 
 An Indian beau or dnndy, p. 112.— A fruitless endonvour to paint one, p. 113. — Mah-to- 
 toh-pa f tlie four beors), second chief of the tribe — The Author feasted in his wigwun, 
 p. 1 14, pi. 6*. — Viundsof the feast, p. 115. — Pemioan and mnrrow-fat — Mandan pottery 
 —Robe presented, p. 116. 
 
 LETTER— No. 17, Mandan Village. 
 
 Polygamy — Reasons and excuses for it, p. 118. — Marriages, how contracted — Wives 
 bought and sold, p. 1!20. — Paternal and filial atTection— Virtue and modesty of women- 
 Early marriages — Slavish lives and occupations of the Indian women, p. Itl.— 'Pnmme 
 blanche— Dried meat — Caches — Modes of cooking, and times of eating — Attitudes in 
 eating, p. 122. — Separation of male» and females in eating — the Indians moderate eaters 
 — Some exceptions, p. 123. — Curing meat iu the sun, without smoke or salt — The wild 
 Indians eat no salt, p, 124. 
 
 LETTER— No. 18. Mandan Village. 
 
 Indian dancing — " Buffalo donee," p. 127, pi. 5(5. — Discovery of buffaloes — Preparations 
 for the chase — Start — A decoy — A retreat — Death and sculping, p. 129. 
 
 LETTER— No. 19, Mandan Village. 
 
 Sham fight and sham scalp dance of the Mandan boys.p. 131 , pi. 67.— Gome of Tchung-kee, 
 p. 132, pi. 59.— Feasting— Fasting and sacrificing— White buflnio robe— lis value 
 p. 133, pi. 47.— llain milkers ond ruin stoppers, p. l.JJ.— Ruin making, p. VJH, pi. 58<— 
 " The thunder bout" — The big double medicine, p. 1-10. 
 
 LETTER— No. 20, Mandan Village. 
 
 Mandon archery—" Game of the arrow," p. 141, pi. 60 — Wild horses— Horse-racing, 
 p. 142, pi. 61. — Foot war-party in council, p. 143, pi. 63, 
 
 LETTER— No. 21, Mandan Village, Upper Missouri. 
 
 Mah-to-toh-pa, (the FoiirBenrs) — Ilis costume and his portrait, p. 145, pi. 64. The robe 
 
 of Msh-to-toh-po, with all the battles of his life painted on it, p. 148, pi. 65. 
 
 LETTER— No. 22, Mandan Village. 
 Mandan religious ceremonies— Mandan religious creed, p. 156.— Three objects of the 
 ceremony, p. 157.— Place of holding the ceremony— Big canoo— Season of commencing 
 
 — *nd manner, p. 158.— Opening the medicine lodge— Sacrifices to the water, p. 159 
 
 Fasting scene for four days and nights, p. 161, pi. 66.— Bel-lohck-nab.pick, (the bull 
 dance), p. 164, pi. 67.— -Pohk-hong (the cutting or torturing acoue), p. 169, pi. 68.— 
 
VII 
 
 Kh-ke-n«h-ka-nuh-|)iok, (tli« lut rnrx) p. iT.'t, pi. 69.— I''xtrnor(linnr]r inn'itncet o( 
 eruelty in »elf-tortur«, p. 175.— Socrifitinp .o the wnti<r, p. 17(i. — C;i«rtificiiti>n of tli« 
 Mtndun ceremonies — Inferencus drutvii I'runi tlietio liorriMe oruultion, with triiditioini, 
 p. i77. — Tradition of O-itee-hee-de (the Evil .Spirit), p. 179. — Mandiin* ciiii be civi- 
 IJied, p. 18^. 
 
 LE'ITEIl— No. 23, M^NATAUEEVlI,LAOP.. 
 Locatiunand niimbfrs — Origin, p. 185, — Principal village, pi. 70. — Vapour baths, pl.7l. — 
 Old chief, Hlaclc Moccasin, p. 186, pi. 7'.i. — Two portrait*, man and wuiniin, pU. 7:1, 74. 
 Ureen corn danco, p. 189, pi. 73. 
 
 LETTER— No. 24, Minatauee Village. 
 
 Crows, in the Minntaree village, p. 191,— Crow chief on horaebnck, in full dross, p. 19S, 
 pi, 76. — i'tculiarities of the Crows— Lontj liaii — ^'emi-luimr faces, p. 193, pis. 77, 78,^ 
 Rats in the Minataree village, p. 19.5. — Crossing Kiiifu iUvor in " bull bout" — Swimmin|f 
 of Minataree girls, p. 196 — Horse-racing — A banter — Uidinga " naked horse," p, 197'-~ 
 Grand buffalo surround, p. 199, pi. 79, — Cutting up and carrying in meat, p. 201. 
 
 LETTER — No. 25, Little Man dan Village, Upper Missouri. 
 
 An Indian offering himself for a pillow, p, 203. — Portraits of Riccarees, p, 204, p!a, H3, 
 Hi, 8a, 81.— Riccaree village, p.204, pi. 80. — Origin of the Manduus — Welsh colony 
 — Expedition of Madoc, p. 206-7. 
 
 LETTER— No. 26, Mouth of Teton River. 
 
 Sioux or (Dah-co-ta^, p, 208. — Fort Pierre, pi. 05. — Misa'ssippi and Missouri Sioux, 
 p, 209. — Ha-wan-ie-tah (chief) p. 211, pi. 86. — Puncahs, Shoo-de-ga-cha (cbief^ and 
 wife, p. 812, pis. 87, 88. — Four wives taken at once, p. 213, pi, 90. — Portrait of one of 
 the wives, p, 214, pi. 89. — Early marriajjes — Causes of, p, 215. 
 
 LETTER— No, 27, Mouth of Teton River. 
 
 Custom of exposing the aged, p. 216, — A tedious march on foot, p. 218. — Level prairie»— 
 " Out of sight of land" — Mirage — Looming of the proiries, p. 218. — Turning the toes in 
 — Bijou bills — Salt meadows, p. 219 — Arrive at Fort Pierre— Great assemblage of Sioux 
 — Paint the portrait of the chief — Superstitious objections — Opposed by the doctors, 
 p, 220, — Difficulty settled— Death of Ha-wan-je-tah (the chief) — Mode of, p, 221. — Por- 
 traits of other Sioux chiefs — Wampum, p, 222-3, pis. 91, 92, — Beautiful Sioux women— 
 Daughter of Black Rock— Chardon, his Indian wife, p. 224-5, pis, 94, 95. 
 
 LETTER— No, 28, Mouth of Teton River. 
 
 Difficulty of painting Indian women, p. 226. — Indian vanity — Watching their portraits- 
 Arrival of the first steamer amongst the Sioux, p. 227. — Dog-feast p. 228, pi. 96. 
 
^ 
 
 .j 
 
 VIM 
 
 LIVrrnR— No. W, Mortn oi Trton Rivp.n. 
 
 Voluntary torture, " lookirif; nt the sun," p. 9.1'^, (>l 97. — KtiliKiouii cornmotiy, p. 23.1.— 
 .Smoking " k'niok-k'ueck" — l'ipe», p. 2.S4. pi. 9t). — Calumet* or pipoi of pHnre, p.?.*W — 
 Toinnliatvka and icalping knivoN, p. 'J'J!y-6, pi. 09.— Dance o( lliu rlii«ra, p. 3.17, pi, 100, 
 — Soalpa — Mode of taking, and object, p. 33U-9. — Modet of carrying and uiing the 
 iiralpi, p. t40, pi. 101. 
 
 LETTER— No. .30, Mouth of Teton River. 
 
 Indian weapon* and initrunipntH of music, p. 2-M, pi. 101}. — Quiver and shield — Smoking 
 the ahield p. S4J. — Tobacco pouches — Drums — Hnttles — VVhistlos — Lutes, p. 242, pi 
 101 }. — Dear dance, p. 344, pi. 102. — Ueggars' dnnce — Scalp dance, p. 24.'), pla. 103, IC 4 
 
 LETTER— No. 31, Mouth op Teton River. 
 
 Oisona (or buffaloes) description of, p 247.— Habits of, p. 248 — Uulls' fighting — Buffalo 
 wallows — Fairy circles, p. 249, pis. 105, 106.— Kunning tha buffaloes, and throwing the 
 arrow, p. 251, pi. 107. — Buffalo chase — Use of the Inso, p. 253, pi. 108, 109. — Hunting 
 under masque of white wolfskins, p. 254, pi. 1 10. — Horses destroyed in buffalo hunting, 
 p. 255, pi. U:. — Butfulo calf — Mode of catching and bringing in, p. 255, pi. IH. — 
 Immense ond wanton dostruction of buffaloes — 1,400 killed, p. 256.— Whit* wolrea 
 atUcking buffaloes, p. 257-8, pU. 1 13, 114. —Contemplations on the probable extuodon 
 •f oaffaloes and Indiana, p. 258,264. 
 
*-**< ■■*«•*»,«»*»*-. , 
 
I ! .-> 
 
 /) fWiu,. 
 
LETTERS AND NOTES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. 
 
 ••^ 
 
 LETTER— No. 1 
 
 As tl>e following pages have been hastily compiled, at the urgent request 
 of a number of my friends, from a series of Letters and Notes written by 
 myself during several years' residence and travel amongst a number of the 
 wildest and most remote tribes of the North American Indians, I have 
 thought it best to make this page the beginning of my book ; dispensing 
 with Preface, and even with Dedication, other than that which I hereby 
 make of it, with all my heart, to those who will take the pains to read it. 
 
 If it be necessary to render any ipology for beginning thus unceremoniously 
 my readers will understand that I had no space in these, my first volumes, 
 to throw away ; nor much time at my disposal, which I could, in justice, 
 use for introducing myself and my works to the world. 
 
 Having commenced thus abruptly then, I will venture to take upon 
 myself the sin of calling this one of the series of Letters of which I have 
 spoken ; although I am writing it several years later, and placing it at the 
 beginning of my book ; by which means I will be enabled briefly to intro- 
 duce myself to my readers (who, as yet, know little or nothing of me), and 
 also the subjects of the following epistles, with such explanations of the 
 customs described in them, as will serve for a key or glossary to the same, 
 and prepare the reader's mind for the information they contain. 
 
 Amidst the multiplicity of books which are, in this enlightened age, 
 flooding the world, I feel it my duty, as early as possible, to beg pardon for 
 making a book at all ; and in the next (if my readers should become so 
 much interested in my narrations, as to censure me for the brevity of the 
 work) to take some considerable credit for not having trespassed too long 
 upon their time and patience. 
 
 Leaving my readers, therefore, to find out what is in the book, without 
 promising them anything, I proceed to say — of myself, that I was born in 
 Wyoming, in North America, some thirty or forty years since, of parents 
 /vol. I. 9 . 
 
t.AKt 
 
 •iimtn 
 
 Cr Cf/l.l.n. 
 
2 
 
 ; 
 
 who entered that beautiful and famed valley soon ofter the close of the 
 revolutionary war, and the disastrous event of the " Indian massacre." 
 
 The early part of my life was whiled away, apparently, somewhat in vain, 
 with books reluctantly held in one hand, and a rifle or fishing-pole firmly 
 and affectionately grasped in the other. 
 
 At the urgent rev)uest of my father, who was a practising lawyer, I was 
 prevailed upon to abandon these favourite themes, and also my occasional 
 dabblings with the brush, which had secured already a corner in my 
 affections ; and I commenced reading the law for a profession, under the 
 direction of Reeve and Gould, of Connecticut. I attended the lectures Oi 
 these learned judges for two years — was admitted to the bar — and practised 
 the law, as a sort of Nimrodicul lawyer, in my native land, for the term of 
 (•»o or three years ; when I very deliberately sold my law library and all 
 (save my rifle and fishing-tackle), and converting their proceeds into brushes 
 and paint pots ; I commenced the art of painting in Philadelphia, without 
 .eachcr or adviser. 
 
 I there closely applied my hand to the labours of the ait for several years; 
 during which time my mind was continually reaching for some branch or 
 enterprise of the art, on which to devote a whole life-time of enthusiasm ; 
 when a delegation of some ten or fifteen noble and dignified-looking Indians, 
 from the wilds of the " Far West," suddenly arrived in tlie city, arrayed 
 and equipped in all their classic beauty, — with shield and helmet, — 
 with tunic and manteau, — tinted and tasselled off, exactly for the painter's 
 palette ! 
 
 In silent and stoic dignity, these lords of the forest strutted about the city 
 for a few days, wrapped in their pictured robes, with their brows plumed with 
 the quills of the war-eagle, attracting the gaze and admiration of all who 
 beheld them. After this, they took their leave for Washington City, and I 
 was left to reflect and regret, which I did long and deeply, until I came to 
 the following deductions and conclusions. 
 
 Black and blue cloth and civilization are destined, not only to veil, but to 
 obliterate the grace and beauty of Nature. Man, in the simplicity and 
 loftiness of his nature, unrestrained and unfettered by the disguises of art, 
 IS surely the most beautiful model for the painter, — and the country from 
 which he hails is unquestionably the best study or school of the arts in the 
 world : such I am sure, from the models I have seen, is the wilderness of 
 North America. And the history and customs of such a people, preserved 
 by pictorial illustrations, are themes worthy the life-time of one man, and 
 nothing short of the loss of my life, shall prevent me from visiting their 
 country, and of becoming their historian. 
 
 There was something inexpressibly delightful in the above resolve, which 
 was to bring me amidst such living models for my brush : and at the same 
 time to place in my hands again, for my living and protection, the objects 
 of my heart above-named ; which had long been laid by to rust and decay 
 
8^ 
 
 in the city, without the remotest prospect of again contributing to my 
 amusement. 
 
 I had fully resolved — I opened my views to my friends and relations, but 
 got not one advocate or abettor. I tried fairly and faithfully, but it was in 
 vain to reason with those whose anxieties were ready to fabricate every 
 difficulty and danger that could be imagined, without being able to under- 
 stand or appreciate the extent or importance of my designs, and I broke 
 from them all, — from my wife and my aged parents, — myself my only 
 adviser and protector. 
 
 With these views firmly fixed — armed, equipped, and supplied, I started 
 out in the year 1832, and penetrated the vast and pathless wilds which are 
 familiarly denominated the great " Far West" of the North American 
 Continent, with a light heart, inspired with an enthusiastic hope and reliance 
 tiiat I could meet and overcome all the hazards and privations of a life 
 devoted to the production of a literal and graphic delineation of the living 
 manners, customs, and character of an interesting race of people, who 
 are rapidly passing away from the face of the earth — lending a hand to a 
 dying nation, who have no ". ■ i.orians or biographers of their own to pourtray 
 with fidelity their native looks and history ; thus snatching from a hasty 
 oblivion what could be saved for the benefit of posterity, and perpetuating 
 it, as a fair and just monument, to the memory of a truly lofty and noble 
 race. 
 
 I have spent about eight years already in the pursuit above-named, having 
 boen for the most of that time immersed in the Indian country, mingling 
 with red men, and identifying myself with them as much as possible, in 
 their games and amusements ; in order the better to familiarize myself with 
 tiieir superstitions and mysteries, which are the keys to Indian life and 
 character. 
 
 It was during the several years of my life just mentioned, and whilst I 
 was in familiar participation witn them in their sports and amusements, that 
 1 penned the following series of epistles ; describing only such glowing or 
 curious scenes and events as passed under my immediate observation ; leaving 
 their early history, and many of their traditions, language, &c. for a suose- 
 quent and much more elaborate work, for which I have procured the 
 materials, and which I may eventually publish. 
 
 I set out on my arduous and perilous undertaking with the determination 
 of reaching, ultimately, every tribe of Indians on the Continent of North 
 America, and of bringing home faithful portraits of their principal personages, 
 both men and women, from each tribe ; views of their villages, games, &c. 
 and full notes on their character and history. I designed, also, to procure 
 tl;eir costumes, and a complete collection of their manufacturrs and weapons, 
 and to perpetuate them in a Gallery unique, for the use and instruction of 
 future ages. 
 
 I claim whatever merit there may have been in the originality of such a 
 
 Ji2 
 
I I 
 
 design, as I was undoubtedly the first artist who ever set out upon 8u<.-Ii a 
 work, designing to carry his canvass to the Rocky Mountains ; and a con- 
 siderable part of the following Letters were written and published in the New 
 York Papers, as early as the years 1832 and 1833 ; long before the Tours ot 
 Washington Irving, and several others, whose interesting narratives are 
 before the world. 
 
 I have, as yet, by no means visited all the tribes ; but I have progressed a 
 very great way with the enterprise, and with far greater and more complete 
 success than I expected. 
 
 I have visited forty-eight different tribes, the greater part of which I found 
 speaking different languages, and containing in all 400,000 souls. I have 
 brought home safe, and in good order, 310 portraits in oil, all painted in 
 their native dress, and in their own wigwams ; and also 200 other paintings 
 in oil, containing views of their villages — their wigwams — their games and 
 religious ceremonies — their dances — their ball plays — their buffalo hunting, 
 and other amusements (containing in all, over 3000 full-length figures); 
 and the landscapes of the country they live in, as well as a very extensive 
 and curious collection of their costumes, and all their other manufactures, 
 from the size of a wigwam down to the size of a quill or a rattle. 
 
 A considerable part of the above-named paintings, and Indian manufac- 
 tures, will be found amongst the very numerous illiistrations in the following 
 pages ; having been, in every instance, faithfully copied and reduced by my 
 own hand, for the engraver, from my original paintmgs ; and the reader of 
 this book who will take the pains to step in to " Catlin's North 
 Ameuicak Indian Gallery," will find nearly every scene and custom 
 which is described in this work, as well as many others, carefully and 
 correctly delineated, and displayed upon the walls, and every weapon (and 
 every •' Sachem" and every " Sagamore" who has wielded them) according 
 to the tenor of the tales herein recited. 
 
 So much of myself and of my works, which is all that I wish to say at 
 present. 
 
 Of the Indians, I have much more to say, and to the following de- 
 lineations of them, and their character and customs, I shall make no further 
 apology for requesting the attention of my readers. 
 
 The Indians (as I shall call them), the savage: or red men of the forests 
 and prairies of North America, are at this time a subject of great interest 
 and some importance to the civilized world ; rendered more particularly so in 
 this age, from their relative position to, and their rapid declension from, the 
 civilized nations of the earth. A numerous nation of human beings, whose 
 origin is beyond the reach of human investigation, — whose early history is 
 lost — whose term of national existence is nearly expired— ihree-fourths ol 
 whose country has fallen into the possession of civilized man within the short 
 space of 250 years — twelve millions of whose bodies have fattened the soil in 
 the mean time ; who have fallen victims to whiskey, the small-pox. and the 
 
Itayonet; leaving at tbis time but a meagre proportion to live a short time 
 longer, in the certain apprehension of soon sharing a similar fate. 
 
 The writer who would undertake to embody the whole history of such a 
 people, with all their misfortunes and calamities, must needs have mtich 
 more space than I have allotted to this epitome ; and he must needs begin 
 also (as I am doing) with those who are living, or he would be very apt to 
 dwell upon the preamble of his work, until the present living remnants of 
 the race should have passed away ; and their existence and customs, like 
 those of ages gone bye, become subjects of doubt and incredulity to the 
 world for whom his book was preparing. Such an historian also, to do them 
 justice, must needs correct many theories and opinions which have, either 
 ignorantly or maliciously, gone forth to the world in indelible characters ; 
 and gather and arrange a vast deal which has been but imperfectly recorded, 
 or placed to the credit of a people who have not had the means of recording 
 it themselves ; but have entrusted it, from necessity, to the honesty and 
 punctuality of their enemies. 
 
 In such an history should be embodied, also, a correct account of their 
 treatment, and the causes which have led to their rapid destruction ; and a 
 plain and systematical prophecy cs to the time and manner of their final 
 extinction, based upon the causes and the ratio of their former and present 
 declension. 
 
 So Herculean a task may fall to my lot at a future period, or it may not; 
 bui I send forth these volumes at this time, fresh and full of their living 
 dee'is and cus( '•ms, as a familiar and unstudied introduction (at least) to 
 them and their native character ; which I confidently hope will repay the 
 readers who read for information and historical facts, as well as those who 
 read but for amusement. 
 
 The world know generally, that the Indians of North America are copper- 
 coloured ; that their eyes and their hair are black, &c. ; that they are mostly 
 ui-.'^ivilized, and consequently unchristianiicd ; that they are nevertheless 
 human beings, with features, thoughts, reason, and sympathies like our own; 
 but few yet know how they live, how they dress, how they worship, what 
 are their actions, their customs, their religion, their amusements, «&c. as 
 they practise them in the uncivilized regions of their uninvaded country, 
 which it is the main object of this work, cletiily and distinctly to set forth. 
 
 It would be impossible at the same time, in a book of these dimensions, to 
 explain all the manners and customs of these people ; but as far as they are 
 narrated, they have been described by my pen, upon the spot, as I have 
 seen them transacted ; and if some few of my narrations should seem a 
 little too liighly coloured. I trust the world will be ready to extend to me 
 that pardon which it is customary to yield to all artists whose main faults 
 exist in the vividness of their colouring, rather than in the drawing of their 
 pictures; but there is nothing else in them, I think, that I should ask 
 pardon for, even though some of them should stagger credulity, and incur 
 
i\: 
 
 for me tlie censure of those critics, who sometimes, unthinkingly or un- 
 mercifully, sit at home lit their desks, enjoying the luxury of wine and u 
 good cigar, over the simple narration of the honest and weather-worn 
 traveller (who shortens his half-starved life in catering for the world), to 
 condemn him and his work to oblivion, and his wife and his little children to 
 poverty and starvation ; merely because he describes scenes which they have 
 not beheld, and which, consequently, they are unable to believe. 
 
 The Indians of North America, as I have before said, are copper-coloured, 
 with long black hair, black eyes, tall, straight, and elastic forms — are less 
 than two millions in number — were originally the undisputed owners of the 
 soil, and got their title to their lands from the Great Spirit who created 
 them on it, — were once a happy and flourishing people, enjoying all the 
 comforts and luxuries of life which they knew of, and consequently cared 
 for : — were sixteen millions in numbers, and sent that number of daily 
 prayers to the Almighty, and thanks for his goodness and protection. Their 
 country was entered by wliile men, but a few hundred years since ; and 
 thirty millions of these are now scuffling for the goods and luxuries of life, 
 over the bones and ashes of twelve millions of red men ; siv T.illiuiia of 
 whom have fallen victims to the small-pox, and the ••cnamder to the sword, 
 the bayonet, and whiskey ; all of which mef>".o of their death and destruction 
 have been introduced and visited upor. iliem by acquisitive white men ; and 
 by wliile men, also, whose fore^'achers were welcomed and embraced in the 
 land where the poor Indian inct and fed them with " cars of green corn and 
 with pemican." Of 'lie two millions remaining alive at this time, about 
 1 ,400,000, are already the miserable living victims and dupes of white man's 
 cupidity, degraded, discouraged and lost in the bewildering^ maze that is 
 produced by the use of whiskey and its concomitant vices ; and the 
 remain'iig number are yet unroused and unenticed from their wild haunts 
 or tlieir primitive modes, by the dread or love of white man and his 
 Jiliurements. 
 
 It has been with these, mostly, that I have spent my time, and of these, 
 chiefly, and their customs, that the following Letters treat. Their habits 
 (and their's alone) as we can see them transacted, are native, and such as I 
 have wished to fix and preserve for future ages. 
 
 Of the dead, and of those who are dying, of those who have suffered death, 
 and of those who are now trodden and kicked through it, I may speak more 
 fully in some deductions at tlie close of this book ; or at some future time, 
 when I may find more leisure, and may be able to speak of these scenes 
 without giving offence to the world, or to any body in it. 
 
 Such a portrait then as I have set forth in the following pages (taken by 
 myself from the free and vivid realities of life, instead of the vague and uncer- 
 tain imagery of recollection, or from the haggard deformities and distortions 
 of disease and death), I ofier to the world for their amusement, as well as for 
 their information ; and I trust they will pardon me, if it should be thought 
 
thai I ';ave ovcr-cstimatecl the Indian character, or at other times descended 
 t.)i) miicli into the details and minntiae of Indian mysteries and absurditit's. 
 
 The reader, then, to understand me riiJiiitly, aiiddiaw from these l.etters tiie 
 information which they are intended to gi"e, must follow n)e a vast way from 
 the civilized world; he must needs wend his way from the city of New York, 
 over the Allesfhany, and far beyond the miy;hty Missouri, and even to the 
 base and summit of the Rocky Mountains, some two or three thousand 
 miles from the Atlantic coast. He should forget many theories he has rea I 
 in the books of Indian barbarities, of wanton butcheries and murders ; and 
 ''vest himself, as far as possible of the deadly prejudices which he has 
 curried from his childhood, against this most unfortunate and most abused 
 part of the race of his fellow-man. 
 
 He should consider, that if he has seen the savages of North America wiili- 
 out making such a tour, he has fixed his eyes upon and drawn his conclu- 
 sions (in all probability) only from those who inhabit the frontier; whose habits 
 have been changed — whose pride has been cut down — whose country has been 
 ransacked — whose wives and daugliters have been shamefully abused — whose 
 lands have been wrested from them — whose limbs have become enervated and 
 naked by the excessive use of wliiskey — whose friends and relations have been 
 premal\irely thrown into their graves — whose native pride and dignity have at 
 last given way to tiie unnatural vices which civilized cupidity has engrafted 
 upon them, to be silently nurtured and magnified by a burning sense of in- 
 jury and injustice, and ready for that cruel vengeance which often falls from 
 the hand that is palsied by refined abuses, and yet unrestrained by the glori- 
 ous influences of refined and moral cultivation. — That if he has laid up what 
 he considers well-founded knowledge of these people, from books which he has 
 read, and from newspapers only, he should pause at least, and withhold his 
 sentence before he passes it upon the character of a people, who are dying at 
 the hands of their enemies, without the means of recording their own annals 
 — struggling in their nakedness with their simple weapons, against guns and 
 gunpowder — against vhiskey and steel, and disease, and mailed warriors who 
 are continually trampling ^\em to the earth, and at last exultingly promulga- 
 ting from the very soil which they have wrested from the poor savage, the 
 history of his cruelties and barbarities, whilst his bones are quietly resting 
 under the very furrows which their ploughs are turning. 
 
 So great and unfortunate are the disparities between savage and civil, in 
 numbers — in weapons and defences — in enterprise, in ci^ft, and in education, 
 that the former is almost universally the sufferer either in peace or in war ; 
 and not less so after his pipe and his tomahawk liave retired to the grave wiih 
 him, and his character is left to be entered upon the pages of history, and 
 that justice done to his memory which from necessity, he has intrusted to 
 his enemy. 
 
 Amongst the numerous historians, however, of these strange people, they 
 have had some friends who have done them justice ; yet as a part of all sys- 
 
toini of justice whenever it is meted to the poor Indian, it comet invariably 
 too late, or ...inistcred at an inc(fectual distance ; and that too when his 
 
 enemies itinually about him, and efTectualiy applying the means of his 
 
 deslructic .. 
 
 Some writers, I have been grieved to see, have written down the character 
 of the North American Indian, ns (Uirk, relentless, cruel and murderous in the 
 lust degree; with scarce a quality to stamp their existence of a higher order 
 than that of the brutes : — whilst other* have given them a high rank, as I feel 
 myHcIf authorized to do, as honourable and highly-intellectual beings ; and 
 others, both friend^i and foes to the red men, have spoken of them as an 
 " anomaly in nature ! " 
 
 In this place I have no time or inclination to reply to so unaccountable 
 an assertion as this ; contenting myself with the belief, that the term would be 
 far more correctly applied to that part of the human family who have strayed 
 farthest from nature, than it could be to those who are simply moving in, and 
 filling the sphere for which they were designed by the Great Spirit who made 
 them. 
 
 From what I have seen of these people 1 feel authorized to say, that there 
 is nothing very strange or unaccountable in their character ; but that it is a 
 simple one, and easy to be learned and understood, if the right means be taken 
 to familiarize ourselves with it. Although it has its dark spots, yet therais 
 much in it to be applauded, and much to recommend it to the admiration of 
 the enlightened world. And I trust that the reader, who looks through these 
 volumes with care, will be disposed to join me in the conclusion that the 
 North American Indian in his native state, is an honest, hospitable, faithful, 
 brave, warlike, cruel, revengeful, relentless, — yet honourable, contemplative 
 and religious being. 
 
 If such be the case, I am sure there is enough in it tc recommend it to the 
 fair perusal of the world, and charity enough in all civilized countries, in this 
 enlightened age, to extend a helping hand to a dying race ; provided that 
 prejudice and fear can be removed, which have heretofore constantly held 
 the civilized portions in dread of the savage — and away from that familiar 
 and friendly embrace, in which alone his true native character can be justly 
 appreciated. 
 
 I am fully convinced, from a long familiarity with these people, that the 
 Indian's misfortune has consisted chiefly in our ignorance of their true native 
 character and disposition, which has always held us at a distrustful distance 
 from them ; inducing us to look upon them in no other light than that of a 
 hostile foe, and worthy only of that system of continued warfare and abuse 
 that has been for ever waged against them. 
 
 There is no difficulty in approaching the Indian and getting acquainted 
 with him in his wild and unsophisticated state, and finding him an honest 
 and honourable man ; with feelings to meet feelings, if the above prejudice and 
 dread can be laid aside, and any one will take the pains, as I have done, to 
 
 h 
 
invariablj 
 )o when hit 
 leanu of his 
 
 le character 
 erous in the 
 igher order 
 nk, as I feel 
 jcings; and 
 them as an 
 
 accountable 
 srm would be 
 have strayed 
 •ving in, and 
 rit who made 
 
 ay, that there 
 Lit that it is a 
 cans be taken 
 , yettherais 
 admiration of 
 [through these 
 ion that the 
 able, faithful, 
 :ontemplative 
 
 mend it to the 
 
 ntries, in this 
 
 jrovided that 
 
 instantly held 
 
 that familiar 
 
 can be justly 
 
 )ple, that the 
 jir true native 
 istful distance 
 :han that ot a 
 ire and abuse 
 
 kg acquainted 
 Im an honest 
 Iprejudice and 
 ^ave done, to 
 
 go and sec him in the Riniplicity of his native state, sniukin^r \m pipe ui.dor 
 his own humble roof, with iiist wife and children around liiin, and liis riiitlil'ul 
 dog» and horses iianging about liis hospitable tenement. — So tiie world mnif 
 see him and smoke his friendly pipe, which will be invariably extended lu 
 them ; and share, with a hearty welcome, the best that his wigwam aflbnls 
 for the appetite, which is always set out to a stranger the next moment 
 after he enters. 
 
 But 80 the mass of the world, most assuredly, will not sec these pcfple ; for 
 they are too far off, and approachable to those only wliose avarice or cupidity 
 alone lead tliem to tliosc remote re^rions, and whose sliame prevents them 
 from publishing to the world the vmues which they have thrown down and 
 trampled under foot. 
 
 The very use of the word savage, as it is applied in its general sense, I 
 am inclined to believe is an abuse of the word, and the people to whom it is 
 applied. The word, in its true definition, means no more than wild, or wilt/, 
 mail ; and a wild man may have been endowed by his Maker with all the 
 liumane and noble traits that inhabit the heart of a tame man. Our 
 ignorance and dread or fear of these people, therefore, have given a new 
 definition to the adjective ; and nearly the whole civilized world apply the 
 word savage, as expressive of the most ferocious, cruel, and murderous 
 eliaracter tlmt can be describe']. 
 
 The grizzly bear is called avage, because he is blood-thirsty, ravenous 
 and cruel; and so is the tiger, and they, like the poor red man, have been 
 feared and dreaded (from the distance at which ignorance and prejudice 
 have kept us from them, or from resented abuses which wo have practiseil 
 when we have come in close contact with them), until Van Amburgii 
 shewed the world, that even these ferocious and unreasoning animals wanted 
 only the friendship and close embrace of their master, to respect and to 
 iove him. 
 
 Aa evidence of the hospitality of these ignorant and benighted people, 
 and also of their honesty and honour, there will be found recorded many 
 striking instances in the following pages. And also, as an offset to these, 
 many evidences of the dark and ciuel, as well as ignorant and disgusting 
 excesses of passions, unrestrained by the salutary influences of laws and 
 Christianity. 
 
 I have roamed about from time to time during seven or eight years, 
 visiting and associating with, some three or four hundred thoutand of these 
 people, under an almost infinite variety of circumstances ; and from the very 
 many and decided voluntary acts of their hospitality and kindness, I feel 
 bound to pronounce them, by nature, a kind and hospitable people. I have 
 been welcomed generally in their country, and treated to the best that tliey 
 could give me, without any charges made for my board ; they have often 
 escorted me through their enemies' country at some hazard to their own 
 lives, and aided me in passing mountains and rivers with my awkward bag- 
 voL. I. r 
 
I', ^ 
 
 10 
 
 gage ; and under all of ihcse circumstance* of exposure, no Indian ever l«- 
 traycd me, itruck inc a blow, or Rtolu from nie a Bliilling'i worth of my 
 property that I am aware of. 
 
 Thin is sayinj; a great dt>al, (and proving it too, if the reader will hclievn 
 mc) in favour of the virtues of these pioplc ; when it is borne in mind, as it 
 shoidd be, lliat tlierc is nu law in their hind to punish a man for theft — that 
 loi;ks and l;ey8 are not itnown in their country — that the commandments have 
 never been divulged amongst them ; nor can any human retribution fall upon 
 the head of a thief, save the disgraec which attaches as a stigma to his cha- 
 racter, in the eyes of his people aliout him. 
 
 And thus in these little communities, strange as it may seem, in the ab- 
 sence of all systems of Jurisprudence, 1 have often beheld peace and luippi- 
 ness, and tpiiet, reigning supreme, for which even kings and emperors might 
 envy them. I have seen rights and virtue protected, and wrongs redressed ; 
 and I have seen conjugal, filial and paternal affection in the simplicity and 
 contentedness of nature. I have unavoidably, formed warm and enduring 
 attachments to some of these men which I do not wish to forget — who have 
 brought me near to their hearts, and in our tinal separation have embraced 
 mc in their arms, and commended me and my affairs to the keeping of the 
 CJreat Spirit. 
 
 For the above reasons, the reader will be disposed to forgive me for dwel- 
 ling so long and so strong on the justness of the claims of these people; and 
 for my occasional expressions of sadness, when my heart bleeds for the fate 
 that awaits the remainder of their unlucky race ; which is long to be outlived 
 by the rocks, by the beasts, and even birds and reptiles of the country they 
 live in ; — set upon by their fellow-man, whose cupidity, it is feared, will fix 
 no bounds to the Indian's earthly calamity, short of the grave. 
 
 I cannot help but repeat, before I close this I^etter, that the tribes of the 
 red men of North America, as a nation of human beings, are on their 
 wane ; that (to use their own very beautiful figure) " they are fast travelling 
 to the shades of their fathers, towards the setting sun ;" and that the travel- 
 ler who would see these people in their native simplicity and beauty, must 
 needs be hastily on his way to the prairies and Rocky Mountains, or he will 
 see them only as they are now seen on the frontiers, as a basket of dead 
 game, — harassed, chased, bleeding and dead ; with their plumage and colours 
 despoiled ; to be gazed amongst in vain for some system or moral, or for 
 some scale by which to estimate their true native character, other tlian that 
 which has too often recorded them but a dark and unintelligible mass of 
 cruelty and barbarity. 
 
 Without further comments I close this Letter, introducing my readers at 
 once to the heart of the Indian country, only asking their forgiveness for 
 having made it so long, and their patience whilst travelling through the 
 following pages (as I journeyed through those remote realms) in search of 
 information and rational amusement ; in tracing out the true character of 
 
11 
 
 tbnt " itratiffe nnomnly" of man in the nimple elements of liU nnlnro, iin- 
 (iJMolved ur coii)|)oui>cled iiitu tlic iiiystcritjs of enlightened and tiishiunulije 
 life. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 A» tlif lingiilitr manii»r$ of tin Coitnlr)) i*t forth in tht foltouing iH^a, and iht ntni- 
 rirdiiiiirii irenet rtpvfttnted in tlm vfiii iiHiiierniit illuitrat^ont, iirt nf amh a ihaynclrr m 
 to rt'iuirt alt possihU aiilt for the iiitisfuction of Iht remleri ; I /mi/k tlieii u-ill eiont m0 
 for intruding in thin /i/nc* ''le nnmeroui Cirtijicattt which follow, and uhich /mm hern 
 volunlnrili) fiirninlied me hi) men whoie litrs, it will he seen, have been spent, m prtut pari, 
 iuth* Indian Country, and injamiliarity with the men and manners tet forth in the work; 
 
 CERTIFICATES. 
 
 " I hereby certil'y, that the persons whose signatures are affixed to the certificates hurc 
 below, by Mr. Caii in, nre officers in the sprvice of tlie I'nited Stiites, ns heroin set forth ; 
 unJ ihnt their o|>inionsof the iiccurncy of tho lil">'i<i3Sfl,s, imJ correctness of the views, &c. 
 exhibited by him in his ' Indian Ualm iiv,' nre entitled to full credit. 
 
 " J. 1). I'OJNSETT, Secretary of War, Wathington." 
 
 " With regard to the gentlemen whoso rnmes are affixed to certificates below, I am fully 
 wiirninted in saying, tlmt no individuals 1 1 ve hnd better opportunities of acipiiring a know- 
 ledgo of the persons, habits, costumes, and sports of the Indian tribes, or possess stronger 
 claims upon the public confidence in the statements tliey make, respecting the correctness 
 of delineations, &t.of Mr. Caimn's Indian CJallebv ; and I may add my own testimony, 
 with regard to many of those Indians whom I have seen, and whose likenesses are in the 
 collection, and sketched with fidelity and correctness. 
 
 " C. A. IlAllRIS, Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Washingttn,' 
 
 " I have seen Mr.CATUN's Collection of Portraits of Indians, east of the Rocky Mountains 
 many of which were familiar to me, and painted in ray presence : and as fur as they have 
 included Indians of my aciiuaintance, the likenesses are easily recognized, bearing the most 
 striking resemblance to the originals, as well as faithful representations of their costumes. 
 
 " VV. CLARK, Superintendent of Indian Affairs, St. Louis," 
 
 " I have examined Mr. Catlin's Collection of the Upper Missouri Indians to the Rocky 
 Mountains, all of which I am acquainted with ; tnd indeed most of iheiii were painted when 
 I was present, and 1 do not hesitate to pronounce them correct likenesses, and readily to 
 be recognized. And I consider the costumes, os painted by him, to be the only correct re- 
 liresentalions I have ever seen. 
 
 "JOHN F. A. SANFORI), 
 " U, SS. Indian Agent for Mandans, Richirees, Miuntareci, 
 Crows, Knisteueatii, Assinnehoins, Blachfeet, Sfc." 
 
 (■2 
 
 t ax grj -r rr ^gr^ r; ' 
 
««gr 
 
 *»■ 
 
 12 
 
 " We have seen Mr. Cati-in's Portraits of Indians east of the Ilocky Mountains, many 
 of ivliicli are familiar to us ; the likenesses are easily recognized, bearin<; a strong resen • 
 bianco to the originals, as well as a faithful representation of their costumes 
 
 " J. DOUGHERTY, Indian Agent. 
 
 " November 27(/i, 1837. J. GAN'IT." 
 
 " Wo hereby certify, that the Portraits of the Grand Pawnees, Republican Pawnees, 
 Pawnee Loups, Tiippage Pawnees, Otoes, Omahaws, and Missouries, whicli are in Mr. 
 Cati.in's Indian Gallery, were painted from life by Mr. Geo. Catlin, and that the indi- 
 viduals sut to him in the costumes precisely in which they are painted. 
 
 " J. DOUGHERTY, 1. A. for Pawnees, Omuhaws, and Otoet. 
 
 " Neio York, 1837. J. GANTT." 
 
 " I have seen Mr. Catlfn's Collection of Indian Portraits, many of which were familiar to 
 ma, and painted in my presence at their own villages. I have spent tlie greater part of 
 my life iimongst the tribes and individuals ho has represented, and I do not hesitate to 
 j)ronounce them correct likenesses, and easily recognized : also his sketches of their 
 manners and customs, I think, are excellent; and the landscape views on the Missouri and 
 Mississippi, are correct representations. 
 
 " K. M'KENZIE, of the Am. Fur Co. Mouth of Yellow Stont." 
 
 " We hereby certify, that the Portraits of Seminoles and Euchees, in Mr. Catun's Gai- 
 i.Kriv, were painted by him, from the life, at Fort Moultrie ; that the Indians sat or stood 
 in the costumes precisely in which they are painted, and that the likenesses are remark- 
 ably good. 
 
 " P. MORRISON, Capt. 4th Inft. H. WHARTON, 2d. Lieut. 6th Inft. 
 
 J. S. HATHAWAY, 2d Lieut. 1st Art. F. WEEDON, Assistant Surgeon. 
 
 i'ort Moultrie, Jan. 26, 1838." 
 
 " Having examined Mr. Catmn's Collection of Portraits of Indians of the Missouri to 
 the Rocky Mountains, I have no hesitation in pronouncing them, so far as I am acquainted 
 with the Individuals, to be the best I have overseen, both as regards the expression of 
 countenance, and the exact and complete manner in which the costume has been painted 
 by him. 
 
 " J. L. BEAN, S. Agent for Indian Affairs." 
 
 " I have been for many years past in familiar acquaintance with the Indian tribes of 
 the U])per Missouri to the Ilocky Mountains, and also with the landscape and other 
 scenes represented in Mr. Catlcn's Collection ; and it gives me great pleasure to assure 
 the world, that on looking them over, I found the likenesses of my old friends easily to 
 be recognized ; and his sketches of Manners and Customs to be pourtrayed with singular 
 truth and correctness. 
 
 "J. PILCHER, Agent for Upper Missouri Indians." 
 
 i I 
 
 " It gives me great pleasure in being enabled to add my name to the list of those who 
 have spontaneously expressed their approbation of Mr. Catun's Collection of Indian 
 Paintings. His Collection of materials place it in his power to throw much light on the 
 Indian character, and his portraits, so far as I have seen them, are drawn with great 
 f delity as to character and likeness. 
 
 '• 11. SCHOOLCRAFT, Indian Agent for Wisconsin Territory," 
 
' those who 
 
 of Indian 
 
 ight on the 
 
 with great 
 
 13 
 
 Affair 
 
 " Having lived and dealt with the Black Feet Indians for five yeurs past, I wns enabled 
 fo recognize euery one of the Portraits of those people, and of the Crow.i alto, nhich 
 Mr. Catun has in his Collection, from the faithful likenesses they bore to the originals. 
 
 " St. Lxuis, 1835. " J. E. URAZKAU." 
 
 " Having spent sixteen years iu the continual acquaintance with the Indians of the 
 several tribes of the Missoi'ri, repree anted in Mr. Catlin'b Gallery of Indian Paintings, 
 I was enabled to judge of the co.i-eotness of the likenesses, and I instantly recognized 
 every one of them, when I looked them over, from the striking resemblance they bore to the 
 uriginals — so also, of the Landscapes on the Missouri. 
 
 " IIONORE PICOTTE." 
 
 " The Portraits, in the possession of Mr. Catlin, of Pawnee Picts, Kioways, Camanches, 
 Wecos, and Usages, were painted by him from life, when on a tour to their country, with 
 the United States Dragoons. The likenesses are good, very easily to be recognized, and 
 the costumes faithfully represented. 
 
 •• HENRY DODGE, Col. of Drag. D. PERKINS. Capt. of Drag. 
 R. H. MASON, Major of Ditto. M. DUNCAN, Ditto. 
 
 D. HUNTER, Capt. Ditto. T. B. WHEELOCK, Lieut. Drag." 
 
 " Tlie Landscapes, Buflfalo-IIunting scenes, &c. above-mentioned, I have seen, and 
 although it has been thirty years since I travelled over that country ; yet a considerahlH 
 number of them I recognized a.s faithful representations, and the remainder of them uro 
 so much in the peculiar character of that country as to seem entirely familiar to me. 
 
 WM. CLARK, Superintendent of Indian Affairs." 
 
 " The Landscape Views on the Missouri, Buffalo Hunts, and other scones, taken by my 
 friend Mr. Catun, are correct delineations of the scenes they profess to represent, as I 
 im perfectly well acquainted with the country, having passed through it more than a 
 dozen times. And further, I know, that they were taken on the bpot, from nature, as I 
 ^vas present when Mr. Catun visited that country. 
 
 •' JOHN F. A. SANFORD, U. SS. Indian Agent." 
 
 " It gives me great pleasure to be able to pronounce the Landscape Views, Views of 
 Hunting, and other scenes, taken ou the Upper Missouri by Mr. Catun, to be correct 
 ileliueations of the scenery they profess to represent } and although I was not present 
 when they were taken in the field, I was able to identify almost every one between St. 
 Louis and the grand bend of the Missouri. 
 
 " J. L. BEAN, S. Agent of Indian Affairs." 
 
 ■i Indians." 
 
 " I hr.vo examined a series of paintings by Mr. Catun, representing Indian Buffalo 
 Uuiits, Landscapes, S^c, and from an acquaintance of twenty-seven years with such scenes 
 as are represented, I feel ({ualified to judge them, and do unhesitatingly pronounce them 
 goiij and unexaggerated representations. 
 
 " JNO. DOUGHERTY, Indian Agent for Pawnees, Omahaws, <ind Uloes." 
 
 Nl 
 
 Territory- 
 
iSZZ 
 
 14 
 
 LETTER— No. 2. 
 
 MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE. UPPER MISSOURI, 1832. 
 
 U 
 
 \ I, 
 
 Wf\ 
 
 I ARRIVED at this place yesterday in the steamer " Yellow Stone," after a 
 voyage of nearly three months from St. Louis, a distance of two thousand 
 miles, the greater part of which has never before been navigated by steam ; 
 and the almost insurmountable difficulties which continually oppose the 
 voyageur on this turbid stream, have been by degrees overcome by the 
 indefatigable zeal of Mr. Chouteau, a gentleman of great perseverance, and 
 part proprietor of the boat. To the politeness of this gentleman I am 
 indebted for my passage from St. Louis to this place, and I had also the 
 pleasure of his company, with that of Major Sanford, the government agent 
 for the Missouri Indians. 
 
 The American Fur Company have erected here, for their protection against 
 the savages, a very substantial Fort, 300 feet square, with bastions armed 
 with ordnance (plate 3) ; and our approach to it under the continued roar o( 
 cannon for half an hour, and the shrill yells of the half-affrighted savages 
 wlio lined the shores, presented a scene of the most thrilling and picturesque 
 appearance. A voyage so full of incident, and furnishing so many novel 
 scenes of the picturesque and romantic, as we have passed the numerous 
 villages of the ** astonisheu natives," saluting them with the puffing of 
 steam and the thunder of artillery, would afford subject for many epistles ; 
 and I cannot deny myself the pleasure of occasionally giving you some 
 little sketches of scenes that I have witnessed, and am witnessing ; and of 
 the singular feelings that are excited in the breast of the stranger travelling 
 through this interesting country. Interesting (as I nave said) and luxurious, 
 for this is truly the land of Epicures ; we are invited by the savages to 
 feasts of dog's meat, as the most honourable food that can be presented to 
 a stranger, and glutted with the more delicious food of beavers' tails, and 
 buffaloes' tongues. You will, no doubt, be somewhat surprised on the receipt 
 of a Letter from me, so far strayed into the Western World ; and still more 
 startled, when I tell you that I am here in the full enthusiasm and practice of 
 my art. That enthusiasm alone has brought me into this remote region, 3500 
 miles from my native soil; the last 2000 of which have furnished me with 
 almost unlimited models, both in landscape and the Inunan figure, exactly 
 suited to my feelings. I am now in the full possession and enjoyments of 
 

 
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 ^^-5^^. 
 
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u 
 
 (liose conditions, on which alone I was induced to pursue the art as a pio- 
 fession ; and in anticipation of which alone, my admiration for the art could 
 ever have been kindled into a pure flame. I mean the free use of nature's 
 undisguised models, with the privilege of selecting for myself. If I am here 
 losing the benefit of the fleeting fashions of the day, and neglecting that 
 elegant polish, which the world say an artist should draw from a continual 
 intercourse with the polite world ; yet have I this consolation, that in this 
 country, I am entirely divested of those dangerous steps and allurements 
 which beset an artist in fashionable life ; and have little to steal my thoughts 
 away from the contemplation of the beautiful models that are about me. 
 If, also, I have not here the benefit of that feeling of emulation, which is 
 the life and ipur to the arts, where artists are associates together ; yet am 
 I surrounded by living models of such elegance and beauty, that I feel an 
 unceasing excitement of a much higher order — the certainty that I am 
 drawing knowledge from the true source. My enthusiastic admiration of 
 man in the honest and elegant simplicity of nature, has aUvays fed the 
 warmest ft elings of my bosom, and shut half the avenues to my hv l against 
 the specious refinements of the accomplished world. This feeling, together 
 with the desire to study my arl, independently of the embarrassments which 
 tne ridiculous fashions of civilized society have thrown in its way, ha?, led 
 me to the wilderness for a while, as the true school of the arts. 
 
 I have for a long time been of opinion, that the wilderness ol our country 
 afforded models equal to those from which the Grecian sculptors transferred 
 to the marble such inimitable grace and beauty ; and I am now more 
 confirmed in this opinion, since I have immersed myself in the midst of thou- 
 sands and tens of thousands of these knights of the forest ; whose whole 
 lives are lives of chivalry, and whose daily feats, with their naked limbs, 
 might vie with those of the Grecian youths in the beautiful rivalry of the 
 Olympian games. 
 
 No man's imagination, with all the aids of description that can be given 
 to it, can ever picture the beauty and wildness of scenes that may be daily 
 witnessed in this romantic country ; of hundreds of these graceful youths, 
 without a care to wrinkle, or a fear to disturb the full expression of pleasure 
 and enjoyment that beams upon their faces — their long black hair mingling 
 with their horses' tails, floating in the wind, while they are flying over the 
 carpeted prairie, and dealing death with their spears and arrows, to a band of 
 infuriated buffaloes ; or their splendid procession in a war-parade, arrayed 
 in all their gorgeous colours and trappings, moving with most exquisite 
 grace and manly beauty, added to that bold defiance which man carries on 
 his front, who acknowledges no superior on earth, and who is amenable to no 
 laws except the laws of God and honour. 
 
 In addition to the knowledge of human nature and of my art, which I 
 hope to accpiire by this loilsome and expensive undertaking, I have another 
 in view, which, if it should not be of equal service to me, will be of no less 
 
16 
 
 &i 
 
 it' iJ 
 
 interest and value to posterity. I have, for many years past, contemplated 
 the noble races of red men who are now spread over these trackless forests 
 and boundless prairies, melting away at the approach of civilization. Tlieit 
 rights invaded, their morals corrupted, their lands wrested from them, their 
 customs changed, and therefore lost to the world ; and they at last sunk 
 into the earth, and the ploughs! are turning the sod over their graves, 
 and I have flown to their rescue — not of their lives or of their race (for they 
 are " doomed" and must perish), but to the rescue of their looks and their 
 modes, at which the acquisitive world may hurl their poison and every 
 besom of destruction, and trample them down and crush them to death ; 
 yet, phoenix-like, they may rise from the "stain on a oainter's palette," and 
 live again upon canvass, and stand forth for centunes yet to come, the 
 living monuments of a noble race. For this purpose, I have designed to 
 visit every tribe of Indians on the Continent, if my life should be spared ; 
 for tlie purpose of procuring portraits of distinguished Indians, of botli sexes 
 in each tribe, painted in their native costume ; accompanied with pictures of 
 their villages, domestic habits, games, mysteries, religious ceremonies, &c. 
 with anecdotes, traditions, and history of their reispective nations. 
 
 If I should live to accomplish my design, the result of my labours will 
 doubtless be interesting to future ages ; who will have little else left from 
 wliich to judge of the original inhabitants of this simple race of beings, who 
 require, but a few years more of the march of civilization and death, to de- 
 prive them of all their native customs and character. 1 have been kindly 
 supplied by the Commander-in-Chief of the Army and the Secretary of War, 
 with letters to the commander of every military post, and every Indian agent 
 on the Western Frontier, with instructions to render me all the facilities in 
 their power, which will be of great service to mo in so arduous an under- 
 taking. The opportunity afforded me by familiarity with so many tribes of 
 human beings in the simplicity of nature, devoid of the deformities of art ; 
 of drawing fair conclusions in the interesting sciences of plivsiognomy and 
 phrenology ; of manners and customs, rites, ceremonies, &c. ; and the op- 
 portunity of examining the geology and mineralogy of this western, and yet 
 unexplored country, will enable me occasionally to entertain you with much 
 new and interesting information, which I shall take equal pleasure in com- 
 nnmicating by an occasional Letter in my clumsy way. 
 
Ll-TTER— No. 3. 
 
 MOUTH OF YELLOW SrOVE, t/PPER M/SSOITH;. 
 
 Since tlie date of my former Letter, I Ikivc been so miicli engai^ed iu tlie 
 amusements of the country, and tlic use of my brush, that I have scarcely 
 been able to drop you a line until tlie present moment. 
 
 Before I let you into the amusements and customs of this de!ij^htful 
 country however, (and which, as yet, are secrets to most of the world), I 
 must hastily travel with ycu over the tedious journey of '2000 miles, from 
 St. Louis to this place ; over which distance one is obliged to pass, before 
 lie can reach this wild and lovely spot. 
 
 The Missouri is, perhaps, different in appearance and character from all 
 other rivers in the world; there is a terror in its manner which is sensibly felt, 
 the moment we enter its muddy waters from the Mississippi. From the 
 mouth of the Yellow Stone River, which is the place from whence I am now 
 writing, to its junction with the Mississippi, a distance of 2000 miles, the 
 Missouri, with its boiling, turbid waters, sweeps off, in one unceasing cur- 
 rent ; and in the whole distance there is scarcely an eddy or resting-place 
 for a canoe. Owing to the continual falling in of its rich alluvial banks, its 
 water is always turbid and opaque ; having, at all seasons of the year, the 
 colour of a cup of chocolate or coffee, with sugar and cream stirred into it. 
 To give a better definition of its density and opacity, I have tried a number 
 of simple experiments with it at this place, and at other points below, at the 
 results of which I was exceedingly surprised. Ry placing a piece of silver 
 (and afterwards a piece of shell, which is a much whiter substance) in a 
 tumbler of its water, and looking through the side of the glass, I ascertained 
 that those substances could not be seen through the eighth part of an inch ; 
 this, however, is in the spring of the year, when the freshet is upon the 
 river, rendering the water, undoubtedly, much more turbid than it would be 
 at other seasons ; though it is always muddy and yellow, and from its 
 ooiling and wild character and uncommon colour, a stranger would think, 
 even in its lowest state, that there was a freshet upon it. 
 
 For the distance of 1000 miles above St. Louis, the shores of this river 
 (und, in many places, the whole bed of the stream) are filled with snags and 
 raft, formed of trees of the largest size, which have been undermined by the 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
 I J 
 
 u 
 
IH 
 
 falling banks and cast into the stream ; their roots becoming fastened in the 
 bottom of tlie river, with tlieir tops floating on the surface of tlie water, and 
 pointing down tlie stream, forming the most frightful and discouraging pro- 
 spect for the adventurous voyageur. (See plate 4.) 
 
 Almost every island and sand-bar is covered with huge piles of these 
 floating trees, and when the river is flooded, its surface is almost literally 
 covered with floating raft and drift wood which bid positive defiance to 
 keel-boats and steamers, on their way up the river. 
 
 With what propriety this " Hell of waters" might be denominated the 
 " River Styx," I will not undertake to decide ; but nothing could be more 
 api)ropriate or innocent than to call it the Hiver oj" Sticks, 
 
 The scene is not, however, all so dreary ; there is a redeeming beauty in 
 the green and carpeted shores, which hem in this huge and terrible deformity 
 of waters. There is much of the way though, whore the mighty forests of 
 stately cotton wood stand, and frown in horrid dark and coolness over the 
 filthy abyss below ; into which thev are ready to plunge headlong, when the 
 mud and soil in which they were germed and reared have been washed out 
 from underneath them, and with the rolling current are mixed, and on 
 their way to the ocean. 
 
 The greater part of the shores of this river, however, are without timber, 
 where the eye is delightfully relieved by wandering over the beautiful prairies ; 
 most of the way gracefully sloping down to the water's edge, carpeted with 
 the deepest green, and, in distance, softening into velvet of the richest hues, 
 entirely beyond the reach of the artist's pencil. Such is the character of the 
 upper part of the river especially ; and as one advances towards its source, 
 and through its upper half, it becomes more pleasing to the eye, for snags 
 and raft are no longer to be seen ; yet ^he current holds its stiff and onwArd 
 turbid character. 
 
 It has been, heretofore, very erroneously represented to the world, that the 
 scenery on this river was monotonous, and wanting in picturesque beauty. 
 This intelligence is surely incorrect, and that because it has been brought 
 perhaps, by men who are not the best judges in the world, of Nature's 
 beautiful works ; and if they were, they always pass them by, in pain or 
 desperate distress, in toil and trembling fear for the safety of their furs and 
 peltries, or for their lives, which are at the mercy of the yelling savages who 
 inhabit this delightful country. 
 
 One thousand miles or more of the upper part of the river, was, to my 
 eye, like fairy-land ; and during our transit through that part of our voyage, 
 1 was most of the time rivetted to the deck of the boat, indulging my eyes 
 in the boundless and tireless pleasure of roaining over the thousand hills, 
 and bluffs, and dales, and ravines ; where the astonished herds of buffaloes, 
 of elks, and antelopes, and sneaking wolves, and mountain-goats, were to be 
 seen bounding up and down and over the green fields ; each one and each 
 tribe, band, and gang, taking their own way, and using their own means to 
 
19 
 
 llie greatest advantagt; possible, to leave the 8ii>ht and sound of tlie puffing 
 of our boat ; wiiiL-h was, for tlie first time, saliiti'ig tiie green and wild shores 
 of the Missouri witli the din of mighty steam. 
 
 From St. Louis to the falls of the Missouri, a distance of 2G00 miles, is 
 one eontinued prairie ; with the exception of a few of the bottoms formed 
 along the bank of the river, and the streams which are falling into it, which 
 are often covered with tlie most luxuriant growth of forest timber. 
 
 The summit level of the great prairies stretching off to the west and the 
 east from the river, to an almost boundless extent, is from two to three hun- 
 dred feet above the level of the river ; which has formed a bed or valley for 
 its course, varying in width from two to twenty miles. This channel or 
 v?iley has been evidently produced by the force of the current, which has 
 gradually excavated, in its floods and gorges, this immense space, and sent 
 its debris into the ocean. By the continual overflowing of the river, its de- 
 posits have been lodged and left with a horizontal surface, spreading the 
 deepest and richest alluvion over the surface of its meadows on either side ; 
 through which the river winds its serpentine course, alternately running from 
 one bluff to the other, which present themselves to its shores in all the most 
 picturesejue and beautiful shapes and colours imaginable — some with their 
 green sides gracefully slope down in the most lovely groups to tlie water's 
 edge (plate 5) ; whilst others, divested of their verdure, present themselves 
 in immense masses of clay of different colours, which arrest the eye of the 
 traveller, with the most curious views in the world. 
 
 These strange and picturesque appearances have been produced by the 
 rains and frosts, which arc continually changing the dimensions, and varying 
 the thousand shapes of these denuded hills, by washing down their sides and 
 carrying them into the river. 
 
 Amongst these groups may be seen tens and hundreds of thousands of 
 different forms and figures, of the sublime and the picturesque ; in many 
 places for miles together, as the boat glides along, there is one continued 
 appearance, before and behind us, of some ancient and boundless city in 
 ruins — ramparts, terraces, domes, towers, citadels and castles maybe seen, — 
 cupolas, and magnificent porticoes, and here and there a solitary column and 
 crumbling pedestal, and even spires of clay which stand alone — and glisten- 
 ing in distance, as the sun's rays are refracted back by the thousand crystals 
 of gypsum which are imbedded in the clay of which they are formed (plate 
 6). Over and through these groups of domes and battlements (as one is 
 compelled to imagine them), the sun sends his long and gilding rays, at 
 morn or in the evening; giving life and light, by aid of shadows cast.to the 
 different glowing colours of these clay-built ruins ; shedding a glory over 
 the solitude of this wild and pictured country, which no ore can realize un- 
 less he travels here and looks upon it. 
 
 It is amid=t these wild and quiet haunts that the mountain-sheep, and the 
 fleet-bounding antelope sport and live in herds, secure from their enemies, 
 
20 
 
 it 
 
 
 'M 
 
 l)N 
 
 to whom the sides and slopes of tliesc l)hifr8 (iiround wliicli lluy ft.trlcssly 
 bound) nro nearly iniicccssible. 
 
 The t;riy,/ly l)car also lias chosen these places for his ul)odo ; he sullenly 
 sneaks throiii^li the ^nl|)hs and chasms, and ravines, and frovvnj away the 
 lurking Indian ; wliiUt the mountain-sheep and antelope arc bounding over 
 and aruiMid the hill tops, safe and free from harm of man and beast. 
 
 Such is a hasty sketch of the river scenes and scenery for 2000 miles, 
 over which we tujjgcd, and puffed, and blowed, and toiled for three months, 
 before we reached this place. Since we arrived here, the stcainer has re- 
 turned and left me her. to explore the country and visit the tribes in this 
 vicinity, and then descend the river from this place to St. Louis ; which 
 Tour, if I live through it, will furnish material for many a story and curious 
 '•"^IJent, which I may give you in detail in future epistles, and when I have 
 more leisure than I have at the present moment. I will then undertake to 
 tell how we astonished the natives, in many an instance, which I can in 
 this Letter but just hint at and say adieu. If anything did ever literally and 
 completely " astonish (and astound) the natives," it was the appearance of 
 our steamer, puffing and blowing, and paddling and rushing by their villajjes 
 which were on the banks of the river. 
 
 These poor and ignorant people for the distance of 2000 miles, had never 
 before seen or heard of a steam-boat, and in some places they seemed at a 
 loss to know what to do, or how to act ; they could not, as the Dutch did at 
 Newburgh, on the Hudson River, take it to be a *^ floating saw-mill " — and 
 they had no nam6 for it — so it was, like every thing else (with them), which is 
 mysterious and unaccountable, called medicine (mystery). We had on board 
 one twelve-pound canno.n and three or four eight-pound swivels, which we 
 were taking up to arm the Fur Company's Fort at the mouth of Yellow Stone, 
 and at the approach to every village they were all discharged several times 
 in rapid succession, which threw the inhabitants into utter confusion and 
 amazement — some of them laid their faces to the ground, and cried to the 
 Great Spirit — some shot their horses and dogs, and sacrificed them to appea^'e 
 the Great Spirit, whom they conceived was ofTended — some deserted their 
 villages and ran to the tops of the blufTs some miles distant ; and others, in 
 some places, as the boat landed in front of their villages, came with great 
 caution, and peeped over the bank of the river to see the fate of their chiefs, 
 whose duty it was (from the nature of their office) to approach us, whether 
 friends or foes, and to go on board. Sometimes, in this plight, they were in- 
 stantly thrown 'neck and heels' over each other's heads and shoulders — men, 
 women and children, and dogs — sage, sachem, old and young — all in a mass, 
 at the frightful discharge of the steam from the escape-pipe, which the cap- 
 tain of the boat let loose upon them for his own fun and amusement. 
 
 There were many curious conjectures amongst their wise men, with regard 
 to the nature and powers of the steam-boat. Amongst the Mandans, some 
 called it the *» big thunder canoe ;" for when in distance bclo; the village. 
 
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 •luy Hftw the liglitnin^ flasli from itn iitlca, ami lionrd the thuiulor come froiii 
 il;'ollHTS Ciilli'tl it tlio " hij; mediciiio tMiino witli eyes ;" it was medicinr. 
 (mystery) because tlicy could not iitulerstuiid it ; and it must Imve eyt'S, tor 
 yuid tliey, " it seed its owii way, and takes tiic deep water in the middle of 
 tlie cliannel." 
 
 Tiiey lind no idea of the boat beiii); steered l)y the man at the wheel, 
 nnd well they might have been astonished ut its takin;^ the dtcpcst water. 
 I may (if I do not forget it) hereafter give you an account of some other 
 curious incidents of this kind, wl\ieli we met with in this voyage ; for we met 
 nn\ny, and some of them were really laughable. 
 
 The Fort, in which I am residing was built by Mr. M'Kcnzie, who now 
 occupies it. It is the largest and best-built establishment of tlic kind on 
 the river, being the great or principal head-f|uarter8 and dei)6t of the 
 Fur Company's business in this region. A vast stock of goods is kept on 
 hand at this place ; and at certain times of the year the numerous out-posts 
 concentialc here with the returns of their season's trade, and reht out with 
 a f esh suppi , of goods to trade with the Indians. 
 
 The site for the Fort is well selected, being a beautiful praiiie on the bank 
 near the junction of the Missouri with the Yellow Stone rivers; and its in- 
 mates and its stores well protected from Indian assaults. 
 
 Mr. M'Kenzie if. a kind-heaited and l.igh-minded Scotchman ; and seems 
 to have charge of all the Fur Companies' business in this region, and from 
 this to the Rocky Mountains. He lives in good and comfortable style, 
 inside of the Fort, which contains some eight or ten log-houses and stores, 
 and has generally forty or fifty men, and one hundred and fifty horses 
 about him. 
 
 He has, wiih the same spirit of liberality and politeness with which Mons. 
 Pierre Chouteau treated me on my passage up the river, pronounced me 
 welcome at his table, which groans under the luxuries of the country ; with 
 buffalo meat and tongues, with beavers' tails and marrow-fat ; but sans coffee, 
 sans bread and butter. Good cheer and good living we get at it however, 
 and good wine also ; for a bottle of Madeira and one of excellent Port are 
 set in a pail of ice every day, and exhausted at dinner. 
 
 At tl'.e hospitable board of this gentleman I found also another, who 
 forms a happy companion for mine host; and whose intellectual and 
 polished society has added not a liltle to my pleasure and amusement since 
 I arrived here. 
 
 The gentleman of whom I am speaking is an Englishman, by the name of 
 Hamilton, of the most pleasing and entertaining conversation, whose mind 
 seems to be a complete store-house of ancient and modern literature and art; 
 and Wiiose free and familiar acquaintance with the manners and men of his 
 country gives him the stamp of a gentleman, who has had the curiosity to 
 bring the embellishments of the enlightened world, to contrast with the rude 
 and the wild of these remote regions. 
 
22 
 
 We three bons vivants form the group about the dinner-table, of whicli I 
 liave before spoken, and crack our jokes and fun over the bottles of Port 
 and Madeira, which I have named : and a considerable part of which, tiiis 
 gentleman has brought with great and precious care from his own country. 
 
 This post is the general rendezvous of a great number of Indian tribes hi 
 these regions, who are continually concentratmg here for the purpose of 
 trade ; sometimes coming, the whole tribe together, in a mass. There are 
 now here, and encamped about the Fort, a great many, and I am continually 
 at work with my brush ; we have around us at this time the Knisteneaux, 
 Crows, Assinneboins and Blackfeet, and in a few days are to have large 
 accessions. 
 
 The finest specimens of Indians on the Continent are in these regions ; and 
 before I leave these parts, I shall make excursions into their respective coun- 
 tries, to their own native fire-sides ; and there study their looks and peculiar 
 customs ; enabling me to drop you now and then an interesting Letter. 
 The tribes which I shall be enabled to see and study by my visit to tliis 
 region, are the Ojibbcways, the Assinneboins, Knisteneaux, Blackfeet, Crows, 
 Shiennes, Grosventres, Manduns, and others ; of whom and their customs, 
 their history, traditions, costumes, &c., 1 shall in due season, give you 
 further and minute accounts. 
 
 111 
 
 
LETTER— No. 4, 
 
 MOUTH OF "ELLOW STONE. 
 
 The several tribes of Indians inhabiting the regions of the Upper Mis- 
 souri, and of whom I spoke in my last Letter, are undoubtedly the finest 
 looking, best equipped, and most beautifully costumed of any on the Con- 
 tinent. They live in a country well-stocked with buffaloes and wild horses, 
 which furnish them an excellent and easy living; their atmosphere is pure, 
 which produces good health and long life ; and they are the most inde- 
 pendent and the happiest races of Indians I have met with : tliey are ail 
 entirely in a state of primitive wildness, and consequently are p'cturesqne 
 and handsome, almost beyond description. Nothing in the world, of its 
 kind, can possibly surpass in beauty and grace, some of their games and 
 amusements — their gambols and parades, of which I shall speak and paint 
 hereafter. 
 
 As far as my travels have yet led me into the Indian country, I have 
 more than realized my former predictions that those Indians who could be 
 found most entirely in a state of nature, with the least knowledge of civilized 
 society, would be found to be the most cleanly in their persons, elegant in 
 their dress and manners, and enjoying life to the greatest perfection. Of 
 such tribes, perhaps the Crows and Blackfeet stand first ; and no one would 
 be able to appreciate the richness and elegance (and even taste too), with 
 which some of these people dress, without seeing them in their own country. 
 I will do all I can, however, to make their looks as well as customs knov.n 
 to the world ; I will paint with my brush and scribble with my pen, and 
 bring their plumes and plumage, dresses, weapons, &c., and every thing but 
 the Indian himself, to prove to the world the assertions which I have made 
 above. 
 
 Every one of these red sons of the forest (or rather of the prairie) is a 
 knight and lord — his squaws are his slaves ; the only things which he 
 deems worthy of his exertions are to mount his snorting steed, with his bow 
 and quiver slung, his arrow-shield upon his arm, and his long lance glistening 
 in the war-parade; or, divested of all his plumes and trappings, armed with 
 a simple bow and quiver, to plunge his steed amongst the flying herds of 
 buffaloes, and with his sinewy bow, which he seldom bends in vain, to drive 
 deep to life's fountain the whizzing arrow. 
 
24 
 
 Tlie buffalo herds, which graze in almost countless numbers on these 
 beautiful prairies, afford them an abundance of meat ; and so much is it 
 preferred to all other, that the deer, the elk, and the antelope sport upon 
 the prairies in herds in the greatest security; as the Indians seldom kill 
 them, unless they want their skins for a dress. The buffalo (or more correctly 
 speaking bison) is a noble animal, that roams over the vast prairies, from 
 the borders of Mexico on ths south, to Hudson's Bay on the north. Their 
 size is somewhat above that of our common bullock, and their flesh of a 
 delicious flavour, resembling and equalling that of fat beef. Their flesh 
 which is easily procured, furnishes the savages of these vast regions the 
 means of a wholesome and good subsistence, and they live almost exclusively 
 upon it— converting the skins, horns, hoofs and bones, to the construction 
 of dresses, shields, bows, &c. The buffalo bull is one of the most formidable 
 and frightful looking animals in the world when excited to resistance ; his 
 long shaggy mane hangs in great profusion over his neck and shoulders, 
 and often extends quite down to the ground (plate 7). The cow is less 
 in stature, and less ferocious ; though not much less wild and frightful 
 in her appearance (plate 8). 
 
 The mode in which these Indians kill this noble animal is spirited and thril- 
 ling in the extreme ; and I must in a future epistle, give you a minute account 
 of it. I have almost daily accompanied parties of Indians to see the fun, and 
 have often shared in it myself; but much oftener ran my horse by their sides, 
 to see how the thing was done — to study the modes and expressions of these 
 splendid scenes, which I am industriously putting upon the canvass. 
 
 They are all (or nearly so) killed with arrows and the lance, while at full 
 speed ; and the reader may easily imagine, that these scenes afford the most 
 spirited and picturesque views of the sporting kind that can possibly be 
 seen. 
 
 At present, I will give a little sketch of a bit of fun I joined in yesterday, 
 with Mr. M'Kenzie and a number of his men, without the company or aid 
 of Indians. 
 
 I mentioned the other day, tliat M'Kenzie's table from day to day groans 
 under the weight of buffalo tongues and beavers' tails, and other luxuries of 
 this western land. He has within his Fort a spacious ice-house, in which he 
 preserves his meat fresh for any length of time required ; and sometimes, 
 when his larder runs low, he starts out, rallying some five or six of his 
 best hunters (not to hunt, but to " go for meat"). He leads the party, 
 mounted on his favourite buffalo horse {i. e. the horse amongst his whole 
 group which is best trained to run the buffalo), trailing a light and short 
 gun in his hand, such an one as he can most easily reload whilst his horse 
 is at full speed. 
 
 Such was the condition of the ice-liouse yesterday morning, which caused 
 these self-catering gentlemen to cast their eyes with a wishful look over the 
 prairies ; and such was the plight in which our host took the lead, and I, 
 
-~'^ ' c, 
 
 estcrday, 
 
 ^y or aid 
 
 groans 
 curies of 
 vhich he 
 ^letimes, 
 of his 
 party, 
 Is whole 
 short 
 IS horse 
 
 [caused 
 |ver the 
 I and I, 
 
 .JzUin. 
 
 rt 
 
!■ 
 
 « 
 
.#■ 
 
 M 
 
 a;i(l then Mons. Chardon, and Ba'tiste Defonde and Tullock (who is a 
 trader amongst the Crows, and is here at this time, with a large party of 
 that tribe), and there were several others whose names I do not know. 
 
 As we were mounted and ready to start, M'Kenzie called up some four 
 or five of his men, and told them to follow immediately on our trail, with as 
 many one-horse carts , which they were to harness up, co bring home the 
 meat ; " ferry them across the river in the scow," said he, " and following our 
 trail through the bottom, you will find us on the plain yonder, between the 
 Yellow Stone and the Missouri rivers, with meat enough to load you home. 
 My watch on yonder bluft' has just told us by his signals, that there are cattle 
 a plenty on that spot, and we are going there as fast as possible." We all 
 crossed the river, and galloped away a couple of miles or so, when we 
 mounted the bluff; and to be sure, is was said, there was in full view of us 
 a fine herd of some four or five hundred buffaloes, perfectly at rest, and in 
 their own estimation (probably) perfectly secure. Some were grazing, and 
 others were lying down and sleeping ; we advanced within a mile or so of 
 them in full view, and came to a halt. Mons. Chardon "tossed the feather" 
 (a custom always observed, to try the course of the wind;, and we commenced 
 " stripping" as it is termed (i. e. every man strips himself and his horse of 
 every extraneous and unnecessary appendage of dress, &c. that might be an 
 incumbrance in running): hats are laid off, and coats — and bullet pouches; 
 sleeves are rolled up, a handkerchief tied tightly around the head, and 
 another around the waist — cartridges are prepared and placed in the waist- 
 coat pocket, or a half dozen bulleis "throwed into the mouth," &c., &c., 
 all of which takes up some ten or fifteen minutes, and is not, in appearance 
 or in effect, unlike a council of war. Our leader lays the whole plan of the 
 chase, and preliminaries all fixed, guns charged and ramrods in cur hands, 
 we mount and start for the onset. The horses are all trained for this busi- 
 ness, and seem to enter into it with as much enthusiasm, and with as restless 
 a spirit as the riders themselves. While " stripping" and mounting, they 
 exhibit the most restless impatience; and when "approaching" — (which is, 
 all of us abreast, upon a slow walk, and in a straight line towards the herd, 
 until they discover us and run), they all seem to have caught entirely the 
 spirit of the chase, for the laziest nag amongst them prances with an elasti- 
 city in his step — champing his bit — his ears erect — his eyes stnined out of 
 his head, and fixed upon the g'\me before him, whilst he trembles under the 
 saddle of his rider. In this way we carefully and silently marched, until 
 within some forty or fifty rods ; when the herd discovering us, wheeled and 
 laid their course in a mass. At this instant we started ! (and all must star^, 
 for no one could check the fury of those steeds at that moment of excite- 
 ment,) and away all sailed, and over the prairie flew, in a cloud of dust which 
 was raised by their trampling hoofs. M'Kenzie was foremost in the throng, 
 and soon dashed off amidst the dust and was out of sight — he was after the 
 fattest and the fastest. I had discovered a huge bull whose shoulders 
 
 VOL. I. £ 
 
!' i 
 
 58 
 
 towereil above the wliole band, and I piclsod my way Uirouy;li the crowd to 
 ii;et alongside of him. I went not (or " meat," but for a trophy ; I wanted his 
 head and horns. I dashed alonj^ th.ough the tluindering mass, as they swept 
 away over the plain, scarcely able to tell whether I was on a biiffiUo's back or 
 my horse — Iiit, and hooked, and jostled about, till at length I found myself 
 alongside of try game, when I gave him a shot, as I passed him. I saw 
 guns flash in several directions about ine, but I heard them not. Amidst the 
 trampling throng, Mons. Chardon had wounded a stately bull, and at tliis 
 nioment was passing him again with his piece levelled for another shot ; 
 they Were both at full speed and I also, within the reach of the muzzle of my 
 gu.i, wlien the bull instantly turned and receiving the horse upon his horns, 
 and the ground received poor Cliardon, who made a frog's leap of some 
 twenty feet or more over the bull's back (plate 9), and almost under my 
 horse's heels. I wheeled ray horse as soon as possible and rode back, where 
 lay poor Chardon, gasping to start his breath again ; and within a few paces of 
 him his huge victim, with his heels high in the air, and the horse lying across 
 him. I dismounted instantly, but Chardon was raising himself on his hands, 
 with his eyes and mouth full of dirt, and feeling for his gun, which lay about 
 thirty feet in advance of him. " Heaven spare you ! are you hurt, Chardon ?" 
 
 •' hi — hie hie hie hie Iiic • no, 
 
 -hie no no, I believe not. Oh ! this is not much, Mons. 
 
 -d hard piece of ground 
 
 Cataline— this r. nothing new — but this is a d' 
 
 },pre— hie— oil ! hie ! " At this the poor fellow fainted, but in a few moments 
 arose, picked up his gun, took his horse by the bit ; which then opened its 
 eyes, and with a hie and a ugh — ugiik ! sprang upon its feet — shook off 
 the dirt — and here we were, all upon our legs again, save the bull, whose fate 
 had been more sad than that of either. 
 
 I turned my eyes in the direction where the herd had gone, and our com- 
 panions in pursuit, and nothing could be seen of them, nor indication, except 
 the cloud of dust which they left behind them. At a little distance on the 
 riaiht, however, I beheld my huge victim endeavourijg to make as much 
 head-way as he possibly could, from this dangerous ground, upon three legs. 
 I galloped off to him, and at my approach he wheeled around — and bristled 
 up for battle ; he seemed to know perfectly well that he could not escape from 
 me, and resolved to meet his enemy and death as bravely as possible. 
 
 I found that my shot had entered him a little too far forward, breaking one 
 of his shoulders, and lodging in his breast, and from his very great weight 
 it was impossible for him to make much advance upon me. As I rode 
 up within a few paces of him, he would bristle up with fury enough in 
 his look:! alone, almost to annihilate me (plate 10) ; and making one lunge 
 at me, would fall upon his neck and nose, so that I found the sagacity of 
 my horse alone enough to keep me out of reach of danger : and I drew 
 from my pocket my sketch-book, l^d my gun across my lap, and commenced 
 tilling his likeness. He stood stiffened up, and swelling with awful 
 
! crowil to 
 vanted Iiii* 
 they swept 
 o's back or 
 ind myself 
 m. I saw 
 Amidst tlie 
 [id at tliis 
 tlier shot ; 
 izzleof my 
 
 his horns, 
 ip of some 
 
 under my 
 lack, where 
 cw paces of 
 ^ing across 
 
 his hands, 
 1 lay about 
 Chardon V 
 
 no, 
 
 lich, Mons. 
 ! of ground 
 iw moments 
 opened its 
 shook off 
 whose fate 
 
 our com- 
 
 on, except 
 
 ice on the 
 
 as much 
 
 iree legs. 
 
 id bristled 
 
 cape from 
 
 e. 
 
 aking one 
 at weight 
 s I rode 
 lOugh in 
 ne lunge 
 gacity of 
 d I drew 
 nmenced 
 h aw fid 
 
 10 
 
I 
 
 
 I 
 
 ) 
 
^ 
 
 vengeance, which was sublime for a picture, but whicli he could not vci.l 
 ii|)on me. I rode around him and ■sitetchcd him in numerous attitudt-s, 
 sometimes he would lie down, and I would then sketch him ; *hen throw my 
 cap al him, and rousing him on his legs, rally a new expression, and skelcli 
 him again. 
 
 In this way I added to my sketch-book some invaluable sketches of this 
 ij;Tim-visaged monster, who knew not that he was standing for his likeness. 
 
 No man on earth can imagine what is the look and pxprestion of such a 
 subject before him as this was I defy tht; vorld to produce another animal 
 than can look so frightful as a huge buffalo bull, when wounded as he was, 
 turned around for battle, and swelling with rage ; — his eyes bloodshrt, and 
 his long sliaggy mane hanging to the ground, — his mouth jpen, and his 
 horrid rage hissing in streams of smoke and blood from his mouth and 
 through his nostrils, as he is bending forward to spring upon his assailant 
 
 After I had had the requisite time and opportunity for using my pencil, 
 M'Keniie and his companions came walking their exhausted horses back 
 from the chase, and in our rear came four or five carts to carry home the 
 meat. The party met from all quarters around me and my buffalo bull, 
 whom I then shot in the head and finished. And being seated together for 
 a few minutes, each one took a smoke of the pip ;, and recited his exploits, 
 and his " coups" or deaths ; when all parties hr J a hearty laugh at mc, as 
 a novice, for having aimed at an old biill, w'lo?.; flesh was not suitable for 
 food, and the carts were escorted on the trail, to Ijiing away the meat. I 
 rode back with Mr. M'Kenzie, who pointed out five rows which he ?iad 
 killed, and all of them selected as the fattest and slickest of the herd. 
 Th" . astonishing teat was all performed within the distance of one mile — all 
 were killed at full spec J, and every one shot through the heart. In the shprt 
 space of time required for a horse under " full whip," to run the distance of 
 one mile, he had discharged his gun five, and loaded it four times — selected 
 his animals, and kil.ied at evci^ sliot ! There were six or eight others killed 
 at the same time, which oitogether furnished, as will be seen, abundance of 
 freight for the carts ; which returned, as well as several packhorses, loaded 
 with the choicest parts which were cut from the animals, and the remainder 
 of the carcasses left a prey for the wolves. 
 
 Such is the mode by which white men live in this country — such the way 
 in which they gi . ;,heir food, and such is one of their Jelightful amusements 
 — at the hazard of every bone in one's body, to feel tht fine and thrilling 
 exhilaration of the ciase for a moment, and then as often to upbraid and 
 blame himself for his oily and imprudence 
 
 From this scene we commenced leisurely wending our wa^ back ; and 
 dismounting al the place where we had stripped, each man dressed himself 
 again, or slung his extra articles of dress, &c. across his saddle, astride of 
 which he sat ; and we rode back to the Fort, reciting as we rode, and for 
 twenty-four hours afteiwaids, deeds of chivalry and chasp, and hair's-breadtii 
 
ri 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 escapes which each and either had fought and run on former occa«ioM. 
 M-Kcnzie, with all the true character and dignity of a leader, was silent on 
 these subjects ; but smiled, while those in his train were reciting for him the 
 astonishing and almost incredible deeds of his sinewy arms, which they had 
 witnessed in similar scenes ; from which 1 learned (as well as from my own 
 observations), that he was reputed (and actually was) the most distinguished 
 of all the white men who liave flourished in these regions, in the pursuit and 
 death of the buiTulo. 
 
 On our return to the Fort, a bottle or two of wine were set forth upon the 
 table, and around them a half dozen parched throats were soon moistened, 
 and good cheer ensued. Ba'tistc D6fonde, Chardon, &c., retired to t'.ieir 
 quarters, enlarging smoothly upon the events of our morning's work ; which 
 they were reciting to their wives and sweethearts ; when about this time the 
 gate of the Fort was thrown open, and the procession of carts and pack- 
 liorses laden with buffalo meat made its entree ; gladdening the hearts of a 
 hundred women and children, and tickling the noses of as many hungry 
 dogs and puppies, wl\o were stealing in and smelling at the tail of the pro- 
 cession. The door of the ice-house was thrown open, the meat was dw- 
 cltarged into it, and I being fatigued> went to slee^. 
 
 Uli 
 
occa«ioM. 
 IS silent on 
 for liiin the 
 li they had 
 >m my own 
 »ting(iishc(l 
 }ursuit und 
 
 h upon the 
 moistened. 
 ;d to t'.ieir 
 )rk ; which 
 >'.i time the 
 and pacli- 
 hearts of a 
 any hungry 
 of the pro- 
 It was di»> 
 
 11 
 
 ilkiin. 
 
i! 
 
 Mil 
 
 I 
 
LETTER— No. 5. 
 
 MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 In my former epistle I told you there were encamped ubout (lie Fort a 
 host of wild, incongruous spirits — chiefs and sachems — warriors, braves, and 
 women and childien of different tribes— of Crows and Blackfect— Ojibbc- 
 ways — Assinneboins — and Crees or Knisteneaux. Amongst and in the midst 
 of them am I, with my paint pots and canvass, snugly ensconced in one of 
 the bastions of the Fort, which I occupy as a painting-room. My easel 
 stands before me, and the cool breech of a twelve-pounder makes me a 
 comfortable seat, whilst her muzzle is looking out at one of the port-holes. 
 The oper-'.tions of my brush are mjfsteries of the highest order to these red 
 sons of 'Jie prairie, and my room the earliest and latest place of concentration 
 of these wild and jealous spirits, who all meet here to be amused and pay 
 me signal honours ; but gaze upon each other, sending their sidelong looks 
 of deep-rooted hatred and revenge around the group. However, whilst in 
 the Fort, th^ir weapons are placed within the arsenal, and naught but looks 
 and thoughts can be breathed here ; but death and grim destruction will 
 visit back those looks upon each other, when these wild spirits again are 
 loose and free to breathe and act upon the plains. 
 
 I have this day been painting a portrait of the head chief of the Black- 
 foot nation ; he is a good-looking and dignified Indian, about fifty years of 
 age, and superbly dressed (plate 11); whilst sitting for his picture he has 
 been surrounded by his own braves and v/arriors, and also gazed at by his 
 enemies, the Crows and the Knisteneaux, Assinneboins and Ojibbeways ; a 
 number of distinguished personages of each of which tribes, have laid all 
 day around the sides of my room ; reciting to each other the battles they 
 have fought, and pointing to the scalp-locks, worn as proofs of their viciorios, 
 and attached to the seams of their shirts and leggings. This is a curious 
 scene to witness, when one sits in the midst of such inflammable and com- 
 bustible materials, brought together, unarmed, for the first time in their lives; 
 peaceably and calmly recounting over the deeds of their lives, and smoking 
 their pipes upon it, when a few weeks or days will bring them on the plains 
 again, where the war-cry will be raised, and their deadly bows will again be 
 drawn on each other. 
 
 i'he name of this dignitary, of whom I have just spoken, is Stu-mick-o- 
 sucks (the buffalo's back fat), i. e. the " hump" or " fleece," the most 
 delicious part of the buffalo's flesh. I have also painted, of the Blackfeet, 
 
I (; 
 
 
 iH' 
 
 30 
 
 Pe-toli-pee-kiss (the eagle ribs), and Mix-ke-mote-skin-na (the iron liorn), 
 and Wun-nes-tou (the white buffalo), and Tcha-aes-sa-ko-mah-pee (the 
 bear's child), and In-ne-o-cose (the buffalo's child), and half-a-dozen others, 
 and all in rich and costly dresses. 
 
 There is no tribe, nerhaps, on the Continent, who dress more comfortably, 
 and more gaudily, than the Blackfeet, unless it be the tribe of Crows. 
 There is no great difference, however, in the costliness or elegance of their 
 costumes ; nor in the materials of which they are formed ; though there 
 is a distinctive mode in each tribe, of stitching or ornamenting with the 
 porcupine quills, which constitute one of the principal ornaments *) all 
 their finp dresses ; and which can be easily recognized, by any one a little 
 familiar with their modes, as belonging to such or such a tribe. The 
 dress, for instance of the chief whom I have just mentioned, and whose 
 portrait I have just painted, consists of a shirt or tunic, made of two deer 
 skins finely dressed, and so placed together with the necks of the skins 
 downwards, and ihe skins of the hind legs stitched together, the seams 
 running down on each arm, from the neck to i.ic knuckles of the hand ; 
 this seam is covered with a band of two inches in width, of very beautiful 
 embroidery of porcupine quills, and suspended from the under edge of this, 
 from the shoulders to the hands, is a fringe of the locks of black hair, which 
 he has taken from the heads of victims slain by his own hand in battle. 
 The leggings are maue also of the same material ; and down the outer side 
 of the leg, from the hip to the feet, extends also a similar band or belt of 
 the same width ; and wrought in the same manner, with porcupine quills, 
 and fringed with scalp locks. These locks of hair are procured from scalps, 
 and worn as trophies. 
 
 The wife (or squaw) of this dignitary Eeh-nis-kin (the crystal stone), 1 
 have also placed upon my canvass (plate 1 3) ; her countenance is rather 
 pleasing, which is an uncommon thing amongst the Blackfeet — her dress is 
 made of skins, and being the youngest of a bevy of six or eight, and the 
 last one taken under his guardianship, was smiled upon with great satisfac- 
 tion, whilst he evempted her from the drudgeries of the camp ; and keeping 
 her continually in the halo of his own person, watched and guarded her as 
 the apple of his eye. The grandson also of this sachem, a boy of six years 
 of age, and too young as yet to have acquired a name, has stood forth like 
 a tried warrior; and I have painted him at full length (plaie 12), with his 
 bow and quiver slung, and his robe made of a racoon skin. The history of 
 this child is somewhat curious and interesting ; his father is dead, and in 
 case of the death of the chief, of whom I have spoken, he becomes hereditary 
 chief of the tribe. This boy has been twice stolen away by the Crows by 
 ingenious stratagems, and twice re-captured by the Blackfeet, at consider- 
 able sacrifice of life, and at present he is lodged with Mr. M'Kenzie, for safe 
 keeping and protection, until he shall arrive at the proper age to take the 
 office to which he is to succeed, and able to protect himself. 
 
 V 
 

I 
 
SI 
 
 Tlie scalp ol'wliieli I spoke above, is procured Ijy ciittiDg out a piece of 
 tlie skin of tlie head, the size of the pahii of the hand or less, con- 
 taining the very centre or crown of the head, the place where the hair 
 radiates from a point, and exactly over what the phrenologists call self- 
 esteem. This patch then is kept and dried with great care, as proof 
 positive of the death of an enemy, and evidence of a man's claims as a war- 
 rior ; and after having been formally " danced," as the saying is, {i. e. after ii 
 has been stuck up upon a pole or held up by an '* old woman," and the war- 
 riors have danced around it for two or three weeks at intervals,) it is 
 fastened to the handle of a lance, or the end of a war-club, or divided into a 
 great many small locks and used to fringe and ornament the victor's dress. 
 When these dresses are seen bearing such trophies, it is of course a difficult 
 matter to purchase them of the Indian, for they often hold them above all 
 price. I shall hereafter take occasion to speak of tlie scalp-dance ; describing 
 it in all its parts, and giving a long Letter, at the same time on scalps and 
 scalping, an interesting and general custom amongst all the North Ameri- 
 can Indians. 
 
 In the chief's dress, which I am describing, there are his moccasins, made 
 also of buckskin, and ornamented in a corresponding manner. And over all, 
 liis robe, made of the skin of a young buffalo bull, with the hair remaining on ; 
 and on the inner or flesh side, beautifully garnished with porcupine quills, 
 and the battles of his life very ingeniously, though rudely, pourtrayed in picto- 
 rial representations. In his hand he holds a very beautiful pipe, the 
 stem of which is four or five feet long, and two inches wide, curiously wound 
 with braids of the porcupine quills of various colours ; and the bowl of the 
 pipe ingeniously carved by himself from a piece of red steatite of an interest- 
 ing character, and which they all tell me is procured somewhere between this 
 place and the Falls of St. Anthony, on the head waters of the Mississippi. 
 
 This curious stone has many peculiar qualities, and has, liudoubtedly, but 
 one origin in this country, and perhaps in the world. It is found but in the 
 hands of the savage, and every tribe, and nearly every individual in the tribe 
 has his pipe made of it. I consider this stone a subject of great interest, and 
 curiosity to the world ; and I shall most assuredly make it a point, during my 
 Indian rambles, to visit the place from whence it is brought. I have already 
 got a number of most remarkable traditions and stories relating to the 
 " sacred quarry ;" of pilgrimages performed there to procure the stone, and 
 of curious transactions that have taken place on Jiat ground. It seems, 
 from all I can learn, that all the tribes in these regions, and also of the 
 Mississippi and the Lakes, have been in the habit of going to that place, and 
 meeting their enemies there, whom they are obliged to treat as friends, 
 under an injunction of the Great Spirit. 
 
 So then is this sachem (the buffalo's back fat) dressed ; and in a very 
 smiilar manner, and almost the same, is each of '..'le others above named ; 
 and all are armed with bow and quiver, lance a.id shield. These north 
 
? if ! 
 
 ( . 
 
 il ; 
 
 'i 
 
 *i 
 
 32 
 
 western tribes are all armed with the bow and lance, and protected with the 
 shield or arrow fender, whicli is carried outside of the left arm, exactly as 
 the Roman and Grecian shield was carried, and for the same purpose. 
 
 There is an appearance purely classic in the plight and equipment of these 
 warriors and " knights of the lance." They are almost literally always on 
 their horses' backs, and they wield these weapons with desperate effect upon 
 the open plains; where they kill their game while at full speed, and contend 
 in like manner in battles with their enemy. There is one prevailing custom 
 in these respects, amongst all the tribes who inhabit the great plains or prairies, 
 of these western regions. These plains afford them an abundance of wild and 
 fleet horses, which are easily procured; and on their backs at full speed, they 
 can come alongside of any animal, which they easily destroy. 
 
 The bow with which they are armed is small, and apparently an insigni- 
 ficant weapon, though one of great and almost incredible power in the hands 
 of its owner, whose sinews have been from childhood habituated to its use 
 and service. The length of these bows is generally about three feet, and 
 sometimes not more than two and a half (plate 18 a). They have, no 
 doubt, studied to get the requisite power in the smallest compass possible, 
 as it is more easily and handily used on horseback than one of greater 
 length. The greater number of these bows are made of ash, or of " bois d'arc" 
 (as the French call it), and lined on the back with layers of buffalo or deer's 
 sinews, which are inseparably attached to them, and give them great elasticity. 
 There are very many also (amongst the Blackfeet and the Crows) which 
 are made of bone, and others of the horn of the mountain-sheep. Those 
 made of bone are decidedly the most valuable, and cannot in this country 
 be procured of a good quality short of the price of one or two horses. 
 About these there is a mystery yet to be solved, and I advance my opinion 
 against all theories that I have heard in the country where they are used 
 and made. I have procured several very fine specimens, and when pur- 
 chasing them have inquired of the Indians, what bone they were made of? 
 and in ..very instance, the answer was, " That's medicine," meaning that it 
 was a mystery to them, or that they did not wish to be questioned about 
 them. The bone of which they are made is certainly not the bone of any 
 animal now grazing on the prairies, or in the mountains between this place 
 and the Pacific Ocean ; for some of these bows are three feet in length, 
 of a solid piece of bone, and that as close-grained — as hard — as white, and 
 as highly polished as any ivory ; it cannot, therefore be made from the elks* 
 horn (as some have supposed), which is of a dark colour and porous : nor 
 can it come from the buffalo. It is my opinion, therefore, that the Indians 
 on the Pacific coast procure the bone from the jaw of the sperm whale, 
 which is often stranded on that coast, and bringing the bone into the moun- 
 tains, trade it to the Blackfeet and Crows, who manufacture it into these 
 bows without knowing any rr.ore than we do, from what source it has been 
 procured. 
 
ted with the 
 1, exactly as 
 pose. 
 
 lent of these 
 ly always on 
 3 effect upon 
 and contend 
 tiling custom 
 ns or prairies 
 e of wild and 
 I speed, they 
 
 r an insigni- 
 in the hands 
 ted to its use 
 ree feet, and 
 ley have, no 
 lass possible, 
 le of greater 
 ■"boisd'arc" 
 tfalo or deer's 
 eat elasticity. 
 
 Erows) which 
 eep. Those 
 
 lis country 
 
 two horses. 
 
 my opinion 
 hey are used 
 d when pur- 
 ere made of ? 
 aning that it 
 tioned about 
 
 jone of any 
 sen this place 
 et in length, 
 18 white, and 
 rom the elks' 
 
 porous : nor 
 the Indians 
 iperm whale, 
 to the moun- 
 
 it into these 
 
 e it has been 
 
"«W 
 
33 
 
 One of these little bows in the hands of an Indian, on a fleet and well- 
 trained horse, with a quiver of arrows slung on his back, is a most efftctive and 
 powerful weapon in the open plains. No one can easily credit the force with 
 which these missiles are thrown, and the sanguinary effects produced by their 
 wounds, until he has rode by the side of a party of Indians in chase of a herd of 
 buflfaloes, and witnessed the apparent ease and grace with which their supple 
 arms have drawn the bow, and seen these huge animals tumbling down and 
 gushing out their hearts' blood from their mouths and nostrils. 
 
 Their bows are often made of bone and sinews, and their arrows headed with 
 flints or with bones, of their own construction (plate 18, c), or with steel, 
 as they are now chiefly furnished by the Fur Traders quite to the Rocky 
 Mountains (Pi.ATE 18, d). The quiver, which is uniformly carried on the back, 
 and made of the panther or otter skins (plate 18, e) is a magazine of these 
 deadly weapons, and generally contains two varieties. The one to be drawn 
 upon an enemy, generally poisoned, and with long flukes or barbs, whicii 
 are designed to hang the blade in the wound after the shaft is withdrawn, in 
 which they are but slightly glued ; — the other to be used for their game, witli 
 the blade firmly fastened to the shaft, and the flukes inverted • that it may 
 easily be drawn from the wound, and used on a future occasion. 
 
 Such is the training of men and horses in this country, that this work of 
 death and slaughter is simple and easy. The horse is trained to approacli 
 the animals on the right side, enabling its rider to throw his arrows to the 
 left; it runs and approaches without the use of the halter, which is hanging 
 loose upon its neck bringing the rider w<thin three or four paces of the 
 animal, when the arrow is thrown with great ease and certainty to the 
 heart ; and instances sometimes occur, where the arrow passes entirely 
 through the animal's body. 
 
 An Indian, therefore, mounted on a fleet and well-trained horse, with his 
 bow in his hand, and his quiver slung on his back, containing an hundred 
 arrows, of which he can throw fifteen or twenty in a minute, is a formidable 
 and dangerous enemy. Many of them also ride with a lance of tvelvc or 
 fourteen feet in length (plate 18, 6), with a blade of polished steel ; and 
 all of them (as a protection for their vital parts), with a shield or arrow- 
 fender made of the skin of the buffalo's neck, which has been smoked, and 
 hardened with glue extracted from the hoofs (plate 18). These shields 
 are arrow-proof, and will glance off a rife shot with perfect effect by being 
 turned obliquely, which they do with great skill. 
 
 This shield or arrow-fender is, in my opinion, made of similar materials, 
 and used in the same way, and for the same purpose, as was the clypeus 
 or small shield in the Roman and Grecian cavalry. Thoy were made in 
 those days as a means of defence on horseback only — made small and light, 
 of bull's hides; sometimes single, sometimes double and tripled. Such 
 WHS Hector's shie.H, and of most of the Homeric heroes of the Greek and 
 Trojan wars. In those days also were darts or javelins and lances ; the 
 
 VOL. I. Ti 
 
fi 
 
 34 
 
 same were also used by llie Ancient Dritons ; and such exactly are now in 
 use amongst the Arabs and the North American Indians. 
 
 In tliis wise then, are all of these wild red knights of the prairie, armed 
 and cijuipped, — and while nothing can possibly be more piclurescpie and 
 thrilling than a troop or war-party of these fellows, galloping over these green 
 and endless prairies ; there can be no set of mounted men of equal numbers, 
 so effective and so invincible in this country as they would be, could they 
 !)e inspired with confiden. of their own powers and their own superiority ; 
 yet this never can be done ; — for the Indian, as far as the name of white man 
 has travelled, and long before he has to try his strength with him, is 
 trembling with fright and fear of his approach ; he hears of white man's 
 arts and artifice — his tricks and cunning, and his hundred instruments of 
 death and destruction — he dreads his approach, shrinks from him with fear 
 and trembling — his heart sickens, and his pride and courage wither, at the 
 thoughts of contending with an enemy, whom he thinks may war and 
 destroy with weapons of medicine or mystery. 
 
 Of the blackfeet, whom I mentioned in the beginning of this Letter, and 
 whose portraits are now standing in my room, there is another of whom I 
 must say a few words; Pe-toh-pee-kiss, the eagle ribs (plate 14). This man 
 is one of the extraordinary men of the Blackfoot tribe ; though not a chief, he 
 stands here in the Fort, and deliberately boasts of eight scalps, which hesays be 
 has taken from the heads of trappers and trad . with his own hand. His dress 
 is really superb, almost literally covered with scalp-locks, of savage and civil. 
 I have painted him at full length, with a head-dress made entirely of 
 ermine skins and horns of the buffalo. This custom of wearing horns 
 beautifully polished and surmounting the head-dress, is a very curious one, 
 being worn only by the bravest of the brave ; by the most extraordinary men 
 in the nation. Of their importance and meaning, I shall say more in a future 
 epistle. When he stood for his picture, he also held a lance and two 
 "medicine-bags" in his hand; of lances I have spoken, — but " medicine- 
 bags" and *' medicine" will be the text for my next Letter. 
 
 Besides the chiefs and warriors above-named, 1 have also tran ttrred to 
 my canvass the "looks and very resemblance" of an aged chief, who 
 combines with his high office, the envied title of mystery or medicine-man, 
 I. e. doctor — magician — prophet — soothsayer — jongleur — and high priest, 
 all combined in one person, who necessarily is looked upon as " Sir Oracle" 
 of the nation. The name of this distinguished functionary is Wun-nes-tou, 
 the white buffalo (plate 15) ; and on his left arm he presents his mystery- 
 drum or tarnbour, in which are concealed the hidden and sacred mysteries 
 of his healing art. 
 
 And there is also In-ne-o-cose, the iron-horn (plate 16), at full length, 
 in a splendid dress, with his " medicine-bag" in his hand ; and Ah-kay-ee- 
 pix-en, the woman who strikes many (plate 17), in a beautiful dress of the 
 mountain-goats' skin, and her robe of the young buffalo's hide. 
 
20 
 
 ire now in 
 
 rie, armed 
 esque and 
 hese green 
 I nurnoers, 
 could they 
 jperiority ; 
 white man 
 ith him, is* 
 irhite man's 
 ruments of 
 m with fear 
 ther, at the 
 y war and 
 
 Letter, and 
 of whom I 
 , This man 
 it a chief, he 
 !h he say she 
 1. His dress 
 ge and civil, 
 entirely of 
 laring horns 
 curious one, 
 rdinary men 
 |e in a future 
 ;e and two 
 " medicine- 
 tan ttrred to 
 ;hief, who 
 ;dicine-man, 
 [high priest. 
 Sir Oracle" 
 'un-nes-tou, 
 his mystery- 
 led mysteries 
 
 full length, 
 Ah-kay-ee- 
 dress of the 
 
 
 Iff -^^ 1 4^ 
 
 C-. Cdtlin 
 
f! 
 
 t! 
 
 u ' 
 
 *«j 
 
 - 
 
i( 
 
 1 1 
 
LETTEll— No. G. 
 
 MOUTH OF YELLOW SIONE, l/FPEK MISSOURI. 
 
 No'*' lor mod cines or mysteries —for doctors, Ijigli-priests, for liucus 
 |)ocu8, witclicrufl, anil unimul magnetism! 
 
 In the Ia?t letter I spoke of Pe-toh-pee-kiss (the eagle ribs), u FJiiickfoot 
 hrnve, whose portrait I had just painted at full length, in u splendid dress*. 
 I mentioned also, that he held two medicine-bags in his hand ; as liiey are 
 represented in the picture; both of them made of the skins of otters, and 
 riirioiisly ornamented wi» i ermine, and other strange things. 
 
 I must needs stop here — my painting and every thing else, until I can 
 explain the word " medicine, " and " medicine- barf ;" and also some tiudi- 
 cinc operations, which I have seen transiacted at this place within a few days 
 past. " Medicine" is a great word in this country ; and it is very necessary 
 that one should know the meaning ; ." it, whilst he is scanning and estimating 
 tlie Indian character, which is made up, in a great degree, of mysteries and 
 superstitions. 
 
 The word medicine, in its common acceptation here, means mystery, and 
 nothing else ; and in that sense I shall use it very frequently in my Notes 
 on Indian Manners and Customs. 
 
 The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their 
 language, a doctor or physician, is called " Medecin." The Indian coun- 
 try is full of doctors ; and as they are all magicians, and skilled, or profess 
 to be skilled, in many mysteries, tli3 word " medecin" has become habi- 
 tually applied to every thing mysterious or unaccountable ; and the English 
 and Americans, who are also trading and passing through this country, 
 have easily and familiarly adopted the same word, with a slight alteration, 
 conveying the same meaning ; and to be a little more explicit, they have 
 denominated these personages " medicine-men," which means something 
 more than merely a doctor or physician. These physicians, however, are all 
 medicine-men, as they are all supposed to deal more or less in mysteries 
 and charms, which aie aids and handmaids in their practice. Yet it was 
 necessary to give the word or phrase a still more comprehensive meaning — 
 as there were many personages amongst them, and also amongst the 
 wiiite men who visit the country, who could deal in mysteries, though 
 not skilled in the application of drugs pnd medicines ; and they all range 
 now, under the comprehensive and accommodating plirase of " medicine- 
 luen." For instance, I am a "medicine-man" of the highest order amongst 
 
36 
 
 tliese superstitious people, on account of the art which 1 practice ; which is 
 a strange and unaccountable thing to them, and of course, called the greatest 
 of " medicine." My gun and pist' Is, which have percussion-locks, are 
 great medicine ; and no Indian can be prevailed on to fire them off, for 
 they say they have nothing to do with white man's medicine. 
 
 The Indians do not use the word medicine, however ; but in each tribe 
 they have a word of their own construction, synonimous with mystery or 
 mystery-man. 
 
 The " medicine-bag" then, is a mystery-bag; and its meaning and impor- 
 tance necessary to be understood, as it may be said to be the key to Indian 
 life and Indian character. These bags are constructed of the skins of 
 animals, of birds, or of reptiles, and orn uiented and preserved in a thousand 
 different ways, as suits the taste or freak of the person who constructs them. 
 These skins are generally attached to some part of the clothing of the Indian, 
 or carried in his hand — they are oftentimes decorated in such a manner as 
 to be exceedingly ornamental to his person, and always are stuffed with 
 grass, or moss, or something of the kind ; and generally without drugs or 
 medicines within them, as they are religiously closed and sealed, and seldom, 
 if ever, to be opened. I find that every Indian in his primitive state, carries 
 his medicine-bag in some form or other, to which he pays the greatest 
 homage, and to which he looks for safety and protection through life — and 
 in fact, it might almost be called a species of idolatry ; for it would seem m 
 some instances, as if he actually worshipped it. Feasts are often made, and 
 dogs and horses sacrificed, to a man's medicine ; and days, and even weeks, 
 of fasting and penance of various kinds are often suffered, to appease his 
 medicine, which he imagines he has in some way offended. 
 
 This curious custom has principally been done away with along the frontier, 
 where white men laugh at the Indian for the observance of so ridiculous 
 and useless a form : but in this country it is in full force, and every male 
 in the tribe carries this, his supernatural charm or guardian, to which he 
 looks for the preservation of his lif:, '<" battle or in other danger ; at which 
 times it would be considered ominous of bad luck and an ill fate to be 
 without it. 
 
 The manner in which this curious and important article is instituted is 
 this : a boy, at the age of fourteen or fifteen years, is said to be making or 
 " forming his medicine," when he wanders away from his father's lodge, and 
 absents himself for the space of two or three, and somethnes even four or 
 five, days ; lying on the ground in some remote or secluded spot, crying to 
 the Great Spirit, and fasting the whole time. During this period of peril 
 and abstinence, when he falls asleep, the first animal, bird, or reptile, of 
 which he dreams (or pretends to have dreamed, perhaps), he considers the 
 Great Spirit has designated for his mysterious protector through life. He 
 then returns home to his father's lodge, and relates his success ; and after 
 allaying his tiiirst, and satiating his appetite, he sallies forth \\\i\\ weapons 
 
37 
 
 B ; which is 
 the greatest 
 i-locks, are 
 bem off, for 
 
 1 each tribe 
 mystery or 
 
 ; and unpor- 
 ey to Indian 
 he skins of 
 I a thousand 
 tructs them. 
 f the Indian, 
 a manner as 
 stuffed with 
 out drugs or 
 and seldom, 
 state, carries 
 the greatest 
 gh life — and 
 ould seem m 
 m made, and 
 even weeks, 
 appease his 
 
 the frontier, 
 so ridiculous 
 d every male 
 , to which he 
 er ; at which 
 
 1 fate to be 
 
 instituted is 
 je making or 
 s lod^e, and 
 even four or 
 )0t, crying to 
 riod of peril 
 or reptile, of 
 considers the 
 gh life. He 
 and after 
 nlh weapons 
 
 or traps, until he can procure the animal or bird, the skin of wliich he 
 jireserves entire, and ornaments it according to his own fancy, and carries 
 it with him through life, for " good luck" (as he calls it) ; as his strength 
 in battle — and in death his guardian Spirit, that is buried with him, and 
 which is to conduct him safe to the beautiful hunting grounds, wliich he 
 contemplates in the world to come. 
 
 The value of the medicine-bag to the Indian is beyond all price; for to sell 
 it, or give it away, would subject him to such signal disgrace in his tribe, tiiat 
 he could never rise above it ; and again, his superstition would stand in the 
 way of any such disposition of it, for he considers it the gift of the Great 
 Spirit. An Indian carries his medicine-bag into batMe, and trusts to it for 
 his protection ; and if he loses it thus, when righting ever so bravely for his 
 country, he suffers a disgrace scarcely less than that which occurs in case he 
 sblls or gives it away ; his enemy carries it off and displays it to his own 
 people as a trophy ; whilst the loser is cut short of the respect that is due to 
 other young men of his tribe, and for ever subjected to the degrading 
 epithet of " a man without medicine," or " he who has lost his medicine," 
 until he can replace it again ; which can only be done, by rushing into battle 
 and plundering one from an enemy whom he slays with his own hand. 
 This done, his medicine is restored, and he is reinstated again in the esti- 
 mation of his tribe ; and even higher than before, for such is called the best 
 of medicine, or *' medicine honourable." 
 
 It is a singular fact, that a man can institute his mystery or medicine, but 
 once in his life ; and equally singular that he can reinstate himself by the 
 adoption of the medicine of his enemy ; both of which regulations are strong 
 and violent inducements for him to fight bravely in battle : the first, that he 
 may protect and preserve his medicine ; and the second, in case he has been 
 so unlucky as to lose it, that he may restore it, and his reputation also, while 
 he is desperately contending for the protection of his community. 
 
 During my travels thus far, I have been unable to buy a medicine-bag of 
 an Indian, although I have offered them extravagant prices for them ; and 
 even on the frontier, where they have been induced to abandon the practice, 
 though a white man may induce an Indian to relinquish his medicine, yet 
 lie cannot buy it of him — the Indian in such case will bury it, to please a 
 white man, and save it from his sacrilegious touch ; and he will linger around 
 the spot and at regular times visit it and pay it his devotions, as long as 
 lie lives. 
 
 These curious appendages to the persons or wardrobe of an Indian 
 (PLATE 18, g), are sometimes made of the skin of an otter, a beaver, a 
 musk-rat, a weazel, a racoon, a polecat, a snake, a frog, a toad, a bat, a 
 mouse, a mole, a hawk, an eagle, a magpie, or a sparrow : — sometimes of 
 the skin of an animal so large as a wolf; and at others, of the skins of the 
 lesser animals, so small thai they are liidden under the dress, and very 
 difficult to be found, even if searched for. 
 
i 
 
 ! ri 
 
 ' \ 
 
 38 
 
 Such then is the medicine-bag — such its meaning and importance ; and 
 when its owner dies, it is placed in his gt i re and decays with his body. 
 
 In the case of the portrait of which I spoke in the beginning of this Letter, 
 there are seen two medicine-bags in the hand of Pe-toh-pee-kiss ; the one 
 was of his own instituting, and the other was taken from his enemy, whom 
 he had siai.i in battle ; both of these he has a right tc display and boast ot 
 on such an occasion. This is but the beginning or incipient stage of *' me- 
 dicines," however, in this strange and superstitious country ; and if you have 
 patience, I will car.y you a few degrees further into the mysteries of conju- 
 ration, before 1 close this Letter. Sit still then and read, until I relate a 
 scene of a tragic, and yet of the most grotesque character, which took place 
 in this Fort a few days since, and to all of which 1 was an eye-witness. 
 The scene I will relate as it transpired precisely ; and call it the story ot 
 the " doctor," or the " Blackfoot medicine-man." 
 
 Not many weeks since, a party of Knisteneaux came here from the north, 
 for the pu-pose of making their summer's trade with the Fur Company; 
 and, whilst here, a party of Blackfeet, their natural enemies (the same who 
 are here now), came from the west, also to trade. These two belligerent 
 tribes encamped on different sides of the Fort, and had spent some weeks 
 here in the Fort and about it, in apparently good feeling and fellowship ; 
 unable in fact to act otherwise, for, according to a regulation of the Fort, 
 their arms and weapons were all locked up by M'Kenzie in his " arsenal," 
 for the purpose of preserving the peace amongst these fighting-cocks. 
 
 The Knisteneaux had completed their trade, and loitered about the pre- 
 mises, until all, both Indians and white men, were getting tired of their 
 company, wishing them quietly off. When they were ready to start, with 
 their goods packed upon their backs, their arms were given them, and they 
 started ; bidding everybody, both friends and foes, a hearty farewell. They 
 went out of the Fort, and though the party gradually moved off, one of 
 them undiscovered, loitered about the Fort, until he got an opportunity to 
 poke the muzzle of his gun through between the piquets ; when he fired it at 
 one of the chiefs of the Blackfeet, who stood within a few paces, talking with 
 Mr. M'Kenzie, and shot him with two musket bullets through the centre of 
 his body ! The Blackfoot fell, and rolled about upon the ground in the 
 agonies of death. The Blackfeet who were in the Fort seized their weapons 
 and ran in a mass out of the Fort, in pursuit of the Knisteneaux, who were 
 rapidly retreating to the bluffs. The Frenchmen in the Fort, also, at so 
 flagrant and cowardly an insult, seized their guns and ran out, joining the 
 Blackfeet in the pursuit. I, at that moment, ran to my painting-room in one 
 of the bastions overlooking the plain, where I had a fair view of the affair ; 
 many shots were exchanged back and forward, and a skirmish ensued which 
 lasted half an hour ; the parties, however, were so far apart that little effect 
 was produced ; the Knisteneaux were driven off over the bluffs, having lost 
 one roan and had several others wounded. The Blackfeet and Frenchmen 
 
rtance ; and 
 s body, 
 f this Letter, 
 iss ; the one 
 nemy, whom 
 and boast ot 
 ige of " me- 
 i if you have 
 •ies of conju- 
 lil I relate a 
 ;h took place 
 eye-witness. 
 t the story ot 
 
 im the north, 
 ir Company; 
 ;he same who 
 '0 belligerent 
 ; some weeks 
 A fellowship; 
 of the Fort, 
 lis " arsenal,'' 
 Icocks. 
 
 bout the pre- 
 ired of their 
 :o start, with 
 |em, and they 
 iwell. They 
 off, one of 
 Ipportunity to 
 he fired it at 
 |, talking with 
 the centre of 
 ound in the 
 heir weapons 
 |ix, who were 
 :, also, at so 
 L joining the 
 room in one 
 If the affair; 
 tnsued whicli 
 t little effect 
 I, having lost 
 Frenchmen 
 
I 
 
 ^ 
 
 ! 
 
 
39 
 
 returned into the Fort, and then, 1 saw what I never before saw in my life 
 — I saw a '* medicine-man" performing his mysteries over a dying man. 
 Tlie man wlio had been shot was still living, though two bullets had passed 
 tlirough the centre of his body, about two inches apart from each other ; he 
 was lying on the ground in the agonies of death, and no one could indulge 
 the slightest hope of his i covery ; yet the medicine-man must needs be 
 called (for such a personage they had in their party), and hocus pocus ap- 
 plied to the dying man, as the dernier resort, when all drugs and all specifics 
 were useless, and after all possibility of recovery was extinct ! 
 
 I have mentioned that all tvibes have their physicians, who are also 
 medicine (or mystery) men. These professional gentlemen are worthies of the 
 highest order in all tribes. They are regularly called and paid as physicians, 
 to prescribe for the sick ; and many of them acquire great skill in the 
 medicinal world, and gain much celebrity in 'heir nation. Their first pre- 
 scriptions are roots and herbs, of which they have a great variety of species ; 
 and when these have all failed, their last resort is to " medicine" or mystery; 
 and for this purpose, each one of them has a strange and unaccountable 
 dress, conjured up and constructed during a life-time of practice, in the 
 ^.fildest fancy imaginable, in which he arrays himself, and makes his last 
 visit to his dying patient, — dancing over him, si aking his frightful rattles, 
 and singing songs of incantation, in hopes to cure him by a charm. There 
 are some instances, of course, where the exhausted paticnc u! accountably 
 recovers, under the application of these absurd forms ; a'i' in such cases, 
 tiiis ingenious son of Indian Esculapius will be seen for several days after, 
 on the top of a wigwam, with his right arm extended and waving over the 
 gaping multitude, to whom he is vaunting forth, without modesty, the surpri- 
 sing skill he has acquired in his art, and the undoubted efficacy of his 
 medicine or mystery. But if, on the contrary, the patient dies, he soon 
 clianges his dress, and joins in doleful lamentations with the mourners ; and 
 easily, with his craft, and the ignorance and superstition of his people, pro- 
 tects his reputation and maintains his influence over them ; by assuring 
 them, that it was the will of the Great Spirit that his patient should die, and 
 when sent for, his feeble efforts must cease. 
 
 Such was the case, and such the extraordinary means resorted to in the 
 instance I am now relating. Several hundred spectators, including Indians 
 and traders, were assembled around the dying man, when it was announced 
 that the " medicine-man" was coming ; we were required to " form a ring," 
 leaving a space of some thirty or forty feet in diameter around the dying 
 man, in which the doctor could perform his wonderful operations; and a 
 space was also opened to allow him free room to pass through the crowd 
 without touching any one. This being done, in a few moments his arrival 
 
 was announced by the death-like " hush sh ' through the crowd; 
 
 and nothing was to be heard, save the light and casual tinkling of the 
 rattles upon his dress, which was scarcely perceptible to the ear, as lie 
 

 
 cautiously and slowly moved through thf averue left for him ; which at lengtli 
 brought him into the ling, in view of the pitiable object over whom his 
 mysteries were to be performed. 
 
 Readers ! you may have seen or read of the witch of Endor — or you may 
 imagine all the ghosts, and spirits, and furies, that ever ranked amongst 
 llie " rank and file" of demonology ; and yet you must see my painting of 
 this strange scene before you can form a just conception of real frightful 
 ugliness and Indian conjuration — yes, and even more : you must see the 
 magic dress of this Indian " big bug" (which I have this day procured m all 
 its parts), placed upon the back of some person who can imitate the strides, 
 and swells, the grunts, and spring the rattles of an Indian magician. 
 
 His entree and his garb were somewhat thus : — he approached the ring with 
 his body in a crouching position (plate 19), with a slow and tilting step — 
 his body and head were entirely covered with the skin of a yellow bear, the 
 head of which (his own head being inside of it) served as a mask ; the huge 
 claws of which also, were danglin? on his wrists and ancles ; in one hand 
 he shook a frightful rattle, and in the other brandished his medicine-spear or 
 magic wand ; to the ratllmg din and discord of all of which, he added the 
 wild and startling jumps and yelps of the Indian, and the horrid and ap- 
 palling grunts, and snarls, and growls of the grizzly bear, in ejaculatory and 
 guttural incantations to the Good and Bad Spirits, in behalf of his patient ; 
 who was rolling and groaning in the agonies of death, whilst he was dancing 
 around him, jumping over him, and pawing him about, and rolling him in 
 every direction 
 
 In this wise, this strange operation proceeded for half an hour, to the sur- 
 prise of a numerous and death-like silent audience, until the man died ; and 
 the medicine-man danced off to his quarters, and packed up, and tied and 
 secured from the sight of the world, his mystery dress and equipments. 
 
 This dress, in all its parts, is one of the greatest curiosities in the whole 
 collection of Indian manufactures which I havs yet obtained in the Indian 
 country. It is the strangest medley and mixture, perhaps of the mysteries 
 of the animal and vegetable kingdoms that ever was seen. Besides the skin 
 of the yellow bear (which being almost an anomaly in that country, is out of 
 the regular order of nature, and, of course, great medicine, and converted to 
 a medicine use), there are attached to it the skins of many animals; vi "h 
 are also anomalies or deformities, which render them, in their estimation, 
 medicine ; and there are also the skins of snakes, and frogs, and bats,— 
 beaks and toes and tails of birds, — hoofs of deer, goats, and antelopes ; and, 
 in fact, the " odds and ends," and fag ends, and tarls, and tips of almost 
 everything that swims, flies, or runs, in this part of the wide world. 
 
 Such is a medicine-man or a physician, and such is one of his wild and 
 ridiculous manauvres, which I have just witnessed in this strange country. 
 
 These men, as I before remarked, are valued as dignitaries in the tribe, 
 and the greatest respect is paid to them by the whole community ; not only 
 
 i t ' 
 
 fii 
 
h at length 
 whom his 
 
 or you may 
 id amongst 
 
 painting of 
 ;al frightful 
 ust see the 
 icured in all 
 
 the strides, 
 :ian. 
 
 he ring with 
 ilting step — 
 )w bear, the 
 k ; the huge 
 in one hand 
 cine-spear or 
 tie added the 
 rrid and ap- 
 culatory and 
 
 his patient ; 
 1 was dancing 
 lUing him in 
 
 r, to the sur- 
 n died ; and 
 and tied and 
 Ipments. 
 in the whole 
 in the Indian 
 he mysteries 
 lidcs the skin 
 itry, is out of 
 converted to 
 imalsj ^"l "h 
 estimation, 
 and bats, — 
 slopes ; and, 
 is of almost 
 Id. 
 
 his wild and 
 je country, 
 in the tribe, 
 ,y ; not only 
 
 i:i 
 
I 
 
 n IS 
 
 ■ '■■*"i. 
 
 sity 
 
41 
 
 for their skill in their •* materia medica ;" but more especially .'n- ''. °ir tact 
 ill magic and mysteries, in which they ail deal to a very great exto I shall 
 have much more to say of these characters and their doings in future epistles, 
 and barely observe in the present place, that no tribe is without them ; — that 
 in all tribes their doctors are conjurors — are magicians — are sooth-sayers, 
 and I had like to have said, high-priests, inasmuch as they superintend and 
 conduct all their religious ceremonies; — they are looked upon by all as 
 oracles of the nation. In all councils of war and peace, they have a seat 
 with the chiefs— are regularly consulted before any public step is taken, and 
 tlie greatest deference and respect is paid to their opinions. 
 
 & 
 
■■ 
 
 I 
 
 I. 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 . f 
 
 I 
 
 4 I 
 t 
 
 ^ 
 
 LETTER— No. 7. 
 
 MOUTH OF YKLLOW STONK, Ul'l'KH MISSOURI. 
 
 The Letter which I gave you yesterday, on the subject of " mcdicinea" 
 niid " medicine-men," has somewhat broken tiie " thread of my discourse ;" 
 and left my painting-ruom (in the bastion), and nil the Indians in it, and 
 portraits, und buffalo hunts, and landscapes of these beautiful regions, to be 
 taken up and discussed ; wiiich I will now endeavour to do, beginning just 
 wiiere I left (or digressed) off. 
 
 I was seated on the cool breech of a twelve-pounder, and had my easel 
 before me, and Crows and Hlackfeet, and Assinneboins, whom I was tracing 
 upon the canvass. And so I have been doing to-day, and shall be for seve- 
 ral days to come. My painting-room has become so great a lounge, and 1 
 so great n " medicine-man," that all other amusements are Jeft, and all 
 other tojiics of conversation and gossip are postponed for future considera- 
 tion. The chiefs have had to place " soldiers" (as they are called) at my 
 door, with spears in hand to protect me from the throng, who otherwise 
 would press upon me ; and none but the worthies are allowed to come into 
 my medicine apartments, and none to be painted, except such as are decided 
 by the chiefs to be worthy of so high an honour. 
 
 The Crows and Blackfeet who are here together, are enemies of the most 
 deadly kind while out on the plains ; but here they sit and smoke rpjietly 
 together, yet with a studied and dignined reserve. 
 
 The Blackfeet are, perhaps, one of the most (if not entirely the most) 
 numerous and warlike tribes on the Continent. They occupy the whole of 
 the country about the sources of the Missouri, from this place to the Rocky 
 Mountains ; and their numbers, from the best computations, are something 
 like forty or fifty thousand — they are (like all other tribes whose numbers 
 are sufficiently large to give them boldness) warlike and ferocious, i. e. they 
 are predatory, are roaming fearlessly about the country, even into and 
 through every part of the Rocky Mountains, and carrying war amongst 
 their enemies, who are, of course, every tribe who inhabit the country about 
 them. 
 
 Tile Crows who live on the head waters of Yellow Stone, and extend from 
 this neighbourhood also to the base of the Rocky Mountains, are similar in 
 the above respects to the Blackfeet; roaming about a great part of the year 
 — and seeking their enemies wherever they can find them. 
 
 They are a much smaller tribe than the Blackfeet, with whom they are 
 
" medicines" 
 / discouisc ;" 
 us in it, and 
 regions, to be 
 eginning just 
 
 liad my easol 
 I was tracing 
 ll be for seve- 
 loungc, and 1 
 
 left, and all 
 ure considera- 
 called) at my 
 [vlio otherwise 
 
 to come into 
 \s are decided 
 
 s of the most 
 smoke quietly 
 
 rely the most) 
 \j the whole of 
 to the Rocky 
 are something 
 liose numbers 
 |ous, J. e. they 
 ren into and 
 war amongst 
 jountry about 
 
 extend from 
 I are similar m 
 \i of the year 
 
 [lom they are 
 
i 
 
 
 ll 
 
always at war, ami from whose great nmnbcrs tlioy sutler prodijjioiisly in 
 battle; und prolmbly will be in a few years entirely dcUroycd by tliein. 
 
 The Crows liave not, poriiaps, nmre than 70(10 in tluir natidn, and pro- 
 oalily not more (lian ei(;lit Innulred warriors or ti^btin^ men. Ain()n;;st iIk- 
 more powerful tril)es, like the Sioux and Bluckfeet, who have been enabled 
 to preserve their warriors, it is ii fair caleulalion to count one in five as 
 warriors; but anioiii; the Crows and iMinatarees, and Piinc.dis, and several 
 other small but warlike tribes, this proportion eannot exist ; as in some of 
 these I have fouiul two or three women to a man in the nation; in eonse- 
 ipu'iu'e of the continual losses sustained amongst their men in war, and also 
 whilst pursuing the buffaloes on the plains for food, svhere tiieir lives are 
 exceedingly exposed. 
 
 The niackfeet and the Crows, like the Sioux and Assinneboins, have nearly 
 the same mode of constructing their wigwam or lodge ; in which tribes it is 
 made of buft'alo skins sewed together, after being dressed, and made into the 
 t'orm of a tent ; supported within by some twenty or thirty pine poles of 
 iwenty-five feet in height, with an apex or aperture at the top, through 
 which the smoke escapes and the light is admitted. These lodges, or tents, 
 are taken down in a few minutes by the squaws, when they wish to change 
 their location, and easily transported to any part of the country where they 
 wish to encamp ; and they generally move some six or eight times in tlie 
 course of the sunnner ; following the immense herds of buffaloes, as they 
 range over these vast plains, from east to west, and north to south. The 
 objects for which they do this are two-fold, — to procure and dress their skins, 
 wiiich are brought in, in the fall and winter, and sold to the Fur Company, 
 for white man's luxury ; and also for the purpose of killing and drying 
 buffalo meat (plate 22), which they bring in from their hunts, packed on 
 their horses' backs, in great cjuantities ; making pemican, and preserving the 
 marrow-fut for their winter quarters ; which are generally taken np in some 
 heavy- timbered bottom, on the banks of some stream, deep imbeilded within 
 the surrounding bluffs, which break off the winds, and make their long and 
 tcdiout winter tolerable and supportable. They then sometimes erect their 
 skin lodges amongst the timber, and dwell in them during the winter months ; 
 l)!it more frequently cut logs and make a miserable and rude sort of log 
 cabin, in which they can live much warmer and better protected from the 
 assaults of their enemies, in case they are attacked ; in which case a log 
 c.d)in is a tolerable fort against Indian weapons. 
 
 The Crows, of all the tribes in this region, or on the Continent, make the 
 most beautiful lodge. As I have before mentioned, thes construct them as 
 llic Sioux do, and make them of the same material ; yet they oftentimes 
 lircssthe skins of which they are composed almost as white as linen, and 
 beautifully garnish them with porcupine (luills, and paint and -nament them 
 m such a variety of ways, us renders tl,' \ exceedingly 'uresque and 
 a'j;recable to the eye. I have procured a v y beautiful one ot .lis desciiption 
 
44 
 
 (PLATE 20), highly-ornamented, and fringed with scalp-locks, and suffi- 
 ciently large for forty nnen to dine under. The poles which support it ate 
 about thirty in number, of pine, and all cut in the Rocky Mountains, having 
 been some hundred years, perhaps, in use. This tent, when erected, is 
 dbout twenty-five feet high, and has a very pleasing effect; with the Great 
 or Good Spirit painted on one side, and the Evil Spirit on the other. If I 
 can ever succeed in transporting it to New York and other eastern cities, it 
 will be looked upon as a beautiful and exceedingly interesting specimen. 
 
 The manner in which an encampment of Indians strike their tents and 
 transport them is curious, and to the traveller in this country a very novel 
 and unexpected sight, when he first beholds it. Whilst ascending the river 
 to this place, I saw an encampment of Sioux, consisting of six hundred of 
 these lodges, struck, and all things packed and on the move in a very few 
 minutes. The chief sends his runners or criers (for such all chiefs keep in 
 their employment) through the village, a few hours oefore they are to start; 
 announcing his determination to move, and the hour fixed upon, and the 
 necessary preparations are in the meantime making ; and at the time an- 
 nounced, the lodge of the chief is seen flapping in the wind, a part of tlie 
 poles having been taken out from under it ; this »s the signal, and in ono 
 minute, six hundred of them (on a level and beautiful prairie), which before 
 had been strained tight and fixed, were seen waving and flapping in the wind, 
 and in one minute more all were flat upon the ground. Their horses and 
 dogs, of which they had a vast number, had all been secured upon the spot, 
 in readiness ; and each one was speedily loaded with the burthen allotted to 
 it, and ready to fall into the grand procession. 
 
 For this strange cavalcade, preparation is made in the following manner : 
 the poles of a lodge are divided into two bunches, and the little ends of each 
 bunch fastened upon the shoulders or withers of a horse, leaving the butt 
 ends to drag beliind on the ground on either side. .Just behind the horse, a 
 brace or pole is tied across, which keeps the poles in their respective places; 
 and then upon that and the poles behind the horse, is placed the lodge or 
 tent, which is rolled up, and also numerous other articles of household and 
 domestic furniture, and on the top of all, two, three, and even (sometimes) 
 four women and children ! Each one of these horses has a conductress, 
 who sometimes walks before and leads it, with a tremendous pack upon 
 her own back ; and at others she sits astride of its back, with a child, per- 
 haps, at her breast, and another astride of the horse's back behind her, 
 clinging to her waist with one arm, while it affectionately embraces a sneak- 
 ing dog-pup in the other. 
 
 In this way five or six hundred wigwams, with all their furniture (plate 
 21), may be seen drawn out for miles, creeping over the grass-covered plains 
 of this country; and three times that number of men, on good hOiSt;, 
 strolling along in front or on the flunk ; and, in some tribes, in the rear of 
 this heterogeneous caravan, at Icu^-l live times' tiiat number of dogs, whicb 
 
r 
 
 15 
 
 v^- 
 
 
 
 1 _., ._..>^^ 
 
 
 
 
 „c^. 
 
 
 ^-^ ._:._^ 
 
 •) ') 
 
 ■'/iA-r 
 
4S^ 
 
 fall into tlie rank, and follow in the train and company of the women , and 
 every cur of them, who is large enough, and not too cunning to be enslaved, 
 is encumbered with a car or sled (or whatever it may be better called), on 
 which he patiently drags his load — a part of the liousehold goods and 
 furniture of the lodge to which he belongs. Two poles, about fifteen feet 
 long, are placed upon the dog's shoulder, in the same manner as the lodge 
 pules are attached to the horses, leaving the larger ends to drag upon the 
 ground behind him ; on which is placed a bundle or wallet which is allotted 
 to liini to carrv, and with which he trots off amid the thronsr of do<r3 and 
 sipiaws ; faithfully and cheerfully dragging his load 'till night, and by the 
 way loitering and occasionally 
 
 ■' Catching at little bits of fun and glee 
 
 " Ti)at's playeil on dc ,s enslaved by dog tliat's free." 
 
 The Crows, like the Blackfeet, are beautifully costumed, and perhaps 
 with somewhat more of taste and elegance ; inasmuch as the skins ot 
 which their dresses are made are more delicately and whitely dressed. 
 The art of dressing skins belongs to the Indians in all couutrii's ; and 
 the Crows surpass the civilized world in the beauty of their skiu -dressing. 
 The art of tanning is unknown to them, so far as civilized luibits and 
 arts have not been taught tliem ; yet the art of dressing skins, so far as 
 we have it in the civilized world, has been (like himdreds of other orna- 
 mental and usefid customs which we are practising), borrowed from the 
 savage ; without our ever stopping to enquire from whence they come, or 
 by whom invented. 
 
 The usual mode of dressing the buffalo, and other skins, is by immersing 
 theai for a few days under a lye from ashes and water, until the hair can be 
 removed ; when they are strained upon a frame or upon the ground, with 
 stakes or pins driven through the edges into the earth ; where they remain 
 for several days, with the brains of the butFai'o or elk spread upon and over 
 them; and at last finished by "graining," a? it is termed, by the squaws; 
 who use a sharpened bone, t!ie shoulder-blade or other large bone of the 
 animal, sharpened at the edge, somewhat like an adze ; with the edge of 
 which they scrape the fleshy side of the skin ; bearing on it with the 
 weight of their bodies, thereby drying and softening the skin, and fitting 
 it for use. 
 
 The greater part of these skins, however, go through still another opera- 
 tion afterwards, which gives them a greater value, and renders them much 
 more serviceable — that is, the process of smoking. For this, a small hole 
 is dug in the ground, and a fire is built in it with rotten wood, which will firo- 
 duee a great quantity of si.ioke -vitliout much blaze ; and several small poles 
 of the proper length stuck in '^e ground around it, and drawn and fastened 
 together at the top, around hich a skin is wra])ped in f(jim of a tent, 
 and licnerallv sewed together at the edges to secure the smoke within it ; 
 
46 
 
 / 
 
 .1' 
 
 within this the skins to be smoked are placed, and in this condition the 
 tfiit will stand a day or so, enclosing the heated smoke ; and by some 
 clieniical process or other, which I do not understiind, the skins thus acquiie 
 ci quality which enabh'S them, after being ever so many times wet, to dry 
 soft and pliant as they were before, which secret I have never yet seen prac- 
 ticed in my own country ; and for the lack of wh'?ii, all of oi'.v dressed skins 
 when once wet, are, I think, eiiieHy ruined. 
 
 An Indian's dress of deer skins, which is wet a hundred times upon his 
 back, dries soft; and his lodge also, which stands in the rains, anu even 
 through the severity of winter, is taken down as soft and as clep.n as when 
 it was first put up. 
 
 A Crow is known wherever he is met by his beautiful white dress, and 
 his tall and elegant figure; the greater part of the men being six feet higii. 
 The Blackfeet on the other hand, are more of the Herculean make — about 
 middling stature, with broad shoulders, and great expansion of chest; and 
 the skins of which their dresses are mad, are chiefly dressed black, or of 
 a dark brown colour; from which circuu.stance, in all prolialiiiity, they 
 having black leggings or moccasins, have uoi ihe name of Blackfeet. 
 
 The Crows are very handsome and gentii I'.anly Indians in their personal 
 appearance : and have been always reputed, since the first acquaintance 
 made with them, very civil and friendly. 
 
 These people to be sure, have in some instances plundered and robbed 
 trappers and travellers in their counli y ; and for that I have sometimes heard 
 them called rascals and thieves, and rofi'ueJi of the first order, &c.; yet they 
 do not consider themselves such ; for liiicving in their estimation is a high 
 crime, and considered the most disgracef\d aet that a man can possibly do. 
 They call this rapluriny, where they sometimes run off" a Trader's horses, and 
 make the!" ' "^st of it; considering it a kind of retaliation or summary 
 justice, .viiicii th j think it right and honourable that tliey should admim'ster. 
 And why n'>^ : "or the unlicensed trespass committed through their country 
 from one end to the other, by mercenary white men, who are destroying the 
 game, and catching all the beaver and other rich and valuable furs out of 
 llieir country, without paying them an equivalent, or, in fact, anything at 
 all, for it ; and this too, when they have been warned tune and again of the 
 danger they would be in, if liiey longer persisted in the practice. Reader, 
 1 look upon the Indran as the most honest and honourable race of people 
 I hut I ever lived amongst in my life ; and in their native state, I pledge you 
 my honour they are the last of all the human family to pilfer or to steal, if 
 you trust to their honoiu'; and for this never-ending and boundless system 
 of theft and plunder, and debau(;hery, that is practiced oft' upon these right- 
 ful owners of the soil, by acquisitive white nien, I consider the infliction, or 
 retaliation, by driving oft' and appropriating a few horses, but a lenient 
 ))uuishment, which tliose persons at least should expect ; an 1 which, in fact, 
 mine but a very hunuurable and high-minded people coul I inflict, instead 
 
 « *• 
 
 P* M^ 
 
47 
 
 s, anu even 
 ean as when 
 
 of a much severer one; wliich they coiilil easily practice iipor. ^.h:- (irw whiw 
 men intlicir c(juntry, without rendering thcnisulviis amcnahio t ) anv (avr. 
 
 Mr. M'Kenzie has repei: edlj told me, within the four last wc;'i.s. vti.;!.! i ; 
 conversation relative to the Cm „, that they were friendly and i..:'0\o -lAc 
 in llicir -Jealinjj wit'i the whites, and that he considered them the finest 
 Indians of his acquaintance. 
 
 I recollect whilst in St. Louis, and other places at the East, to have heard 
 it often said, that the Crows were a rascally and thieving sot of vagabonds, 
 liighway robbers, &c. &c.: and I have been told since, that this informa- 
 tion has become current in the world, from the fact that they made some 
 depredations upon the camp of Messrs. Crooks and Hunt of the Fur Com- 
 pany ; and drove off' a number of their horses, when they were passing 
 through the Crow country, on their way to Astoria. This was no doubt 
 true ; and equally true, would diose very Indians tell us, was the fact, that 
 they had i good and sufficient reason for it. 
 
 These gentlemen, with their party, were crossing the Crow country with a 
 large stock of goods, of guns, and ammunition, of knives, and spears, arrow- 
 heads, &c.; and stopped for some time and encamped in the midst of the 
 Crow country (and I think wintered there), when the Crows assembled in 
 large numbers about them, and treated them in a kind and friendly manner ; 
 and at the same time proposed to trade with them for guns and ammunition, 
 &c. (according to these gentlemen's own account.) of which they were a great 
 want, and for which they brought a great many horses, and oiTeied them 
 repeatedly in trade ; which they refused to take, persisting in their determi- 
 nation of carrying their goods to their destined place, a> oss the mc utains; 
 thereby disappointing these Indians, by denying them the arns and weapons 
 which were in tlieir possession, whilst they were living -tioii them, and ex- 
 hausting the ^.,ame and food of their country. No d it, tiiese gentlemen 
 told the Crow,^, that these Poods were going to Astoria, of v. iiich place they 
 knew nothing ; and of course, it was enough for them that they were going 
 to take them farther west; wliich t' y would at once suppM'-- vv.is to the 
 Blackfeet, their principal ene-.ny, h ng eight or ten warriors to one of the 
 Crows: where they seppo.,ed the unite ncn could get a greater price for 
 their weapons, and anv iheir enemies in such a way as would enable them 
 to turn upon the Crows, and cut them to pieces without mercy. Under 
 these circumscances, the Crows rode off', and to show their indignation, 
 drcve off some oi the Company's horses, for which they have ever since 
 been denominated a band of thieves and highway robbers. It is a custom, 
 and a part of the system of jurisprudence amongst all savages, to revenge 
 upon the person or persons who give the offence, if they can ; and if not, to 
 let that punishment tall upon the head of the firs'i. white man who comes in 
 their way, provided the offender was a white man. And I would not l>e 
 surprised, therefore, if I get robbed of my horse ; and you too, readers, '^ 
 you go into that country, for that very (supposed) offence. 
 
I 
 
 48 
 
 I have conversnd often and nuicli with Messrs. Sublette and Campbell, 
 two gentlemen of the highest respectability, who have traded with the CrowH 
 for several years, and they tell me they are one of the most honourable, 
 honest, and hij^h-niindcd races of people on earth; and with Mr. Tidlock, 
 also, a man oftlio strictest veracity, who is now here with a party of them ; 
 and, he says, they never steal, — have a high sense of honour, — and beiniy 
 fearless and proud, ar*^ (pnck to punish or retaliate. 
 
 So much for the cliaracter of the Crows for the present, a subject which 
 1 shall assuredly take ip ^orain, when I shall have seen more of them 
 myself. 
 
 J fr; 
 
 'iJ:~ 
 
49 
 
 LETTER— No. 8. 
 
 MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Since my last Letter, nothing of great moment has transpired at this 
 place; but I have l)ocn continually employed in painting my portraits and 
 making notes on the character and customs of the wild folk-s who arc about 
 me. I have just been painting a number of the Crows, fine looking and 
 noble gentlemen. They arc really a handsome and well-formed set of men 
 as can be seen in any part of the world. There is a sort of case and grace 
 added to their dignity of nuumers, which gives them the air of gentlemen at 
 cnce. I observed the other day, that most of them were over six feet high, 
 And very many of these have cultivated their natural hair to such an almost 
 incredible length, that it sweeps the ground as they walk ; there are frequent 
 instances of this kind amongst them, and in some cases, a foot or more of 
 it will drag on the grass as they walk, giving exceeding grace and beauty to 
 their movements. They usually oi' their hair with a profusion of bear's 
 grease every morning, which is no doubt one cause of the unusual length to 
 which their hair extends ; though it cannot be the sole cause of it, for tlie 
 other tribes throughout this country use the bear's grease in equal profusion 
 without producing the same results. The Mandans, however, and the Sioux, 
 of whom I shall speak in future epistles, have cultivated a very great growth of 
 the hair, as many of them are seen whose hair reaches near to the ground. 
 
 This extraordinary length of hair amongst the Crows is confined to the 
 men alone ; for the women, though all of them with glossy and beautiful 
 hair, and a great profusion of it, are unable to cultivate it to so great a 
 length ; or else they are not allowed to compete with tlieir lords in a fashion 
 so ornamental (and on which the men so highly pride themselves), and are 
 obliged in ir.any cases to cut it short off. 
 
 The fashion of long hair amongst the men, prevails throughout all the 
 Western and Morth Western tribes, after passing the Sacs and Foxes; and 
 tlie Pawnees of the Platte, who, with two or three other tribes only, are 
 in the habit of shaving nearly the whole head. 
 
 The present chief of the Crows, who is called " Long-hair," and has 
 received his name as well as his oflice from the circumstance of having the 
 longest hair of any man in the nation, I have not yet seen : but I hope I yet 
 may, ere I leave this part of the coimliy. This extvaurdinary man is 
 known to several gentlemen with whom 1 am acquainted, and particularly 
 to Messrs. Sublette and Campbell, of whom I have before spoken, who 
 
 VOL, I. 11 
 
m 
 
 I * 
 
 ii 
 
 told me they had lived in his hospitable lodge for months together; and 
 assured me that they had mcasurcJ his hair by a correct means, an<l 
 found it to be ten feet and seven inches in length ; closely inspecting 
 every part of it at the same time, and satisfying themselves that it was 
 the natural growtli. 
 
 On ordinary occnsrons rt fs wound witli a broad leather strap, from his 
 head to its extreme end, and tlien folded up into a budget or block, of sonic 
 ton or twelve inches in length, and of some pounds weight ; whicii wlicn hf 
 walks is carried under his arm, or placed in his bosom, witliin the fohls of 
 his robe; but on any great parade or similar occasion, hi.-! pricU' is to unfold 
 it, oil it with bear's grease and lot it drag behind him, some three or four 
 feet of it spread out upon the grass, and black and shining like a raven's 
 wing. 
 
 It is a common custom amongst most of these upper tribes, to splice or 
 add on several lengths of hair, by fastening them wilh glue; probably for 
 the purpose of imitating the Crows, upon whom alone Nature has bestowed 
 this conspicuous and signal ornament. 
 
 Amongst the Crows of distinction now at this place, I have painted the 
 portraits of several, who exhibit some striking peculiarities. Amongst whonrt 
 is Chah-ee-chopes, the four wolves (plate 24) ; a fine lookmg fellow, six 
 feet in stature, and whose natural hair sweeps the grass as he walks ; he is 
 beautifully clad, and carries himself with the most graceful and manly 
 mien — he is in mourning for a brother; and according to their custom, 
 has cut ofF a number of locks of his long hair, which is as much as a man 
 can well spare of so valued an ornament, which he has been for the greater 
 part of his life cultivating ; whilst a woman who mourns for a husband or 
 child, is obliged to crop her hair short to her head, and so remain till it 
 grows out again ; ceasing gradually to mourn as her hair approaches to its 
 former length. 
 
 Duhk-pits-a-ho-shee, the red bear (plate 26), a distinguished warrior, 
 and Oo-je-en-a-he-ha, the woman who lives in the bear's den (plate 25). 
 I have also painted Pa-ris-ka-roo-pa (two crows) the younger (plate 27), 
 one of the most extraordinary men in the Crow nation ; not only for his 
 looks, from the form of his head, which seems to be distortion itself — and 
 curtailed of all its fair proportions ; but from his extraordinary sagacity as 
 a counsellor and orator, even at an early stage of liis life. 
 
 There is something very uncommon in this outline, and sets forth the 
 striking peculiarity of the Crow tribe, though rather in an exaggerated 
 form. The semi-lunar outline of the Crow head, with an exceedingly low 
 and retreating forehead, is certainiy a vt"y peculiar and striking charac- 
 teristic ; and though not so< strongly marked in most of the tribe as in the 
 present instance, is sufficient for their detection whenever they are met ; 
 and will be subject for further comment in another place. 
 
 The Crow women (and Blackfe^t also) are not handsome, and I shall at 
 
 ><' 
 
jotlicr; and 
 means, and 
 r inspecting 
 tliat it was 
 
 ip, from liiei 
 )ck, ol'somo 
 ich when In- 
 tiic folds of 
 ■ is to unfold 
 three or fonr 
 ike a raven's 
 
 ;, to splice or 
 
 probably for 
 
 has bestowed 
 
 e painted the 
 niongst whom 
 ng fellow, six 
 walks; he is 
 al and manly 
 ,heir custom, 
 uch as a man 
 or the greater 
 a husband or 
 remain till it 
 iroaches to its 
 
 ished warrior , 
 (plate 25). 
 
 |r (plate 27), 
 only for his 
 )n itself— and 
 •y sagacity as 
 
 lets forth the 
 exaggerated 
 tecdingly low 
 fking charac- 
 Vribe as in the 
 liey are met ; 
 
 land I shall at 
 
 2t) 
 
 27 
 
it 
 
ft) 
 
 ])rcsent sny btit little of llioni. Tliey arc, like all oilier Indian women, the 
 slaves of their husbaiuU : bcinc: obliged to perform nil tiie domestic duties 
 and drudgeries of the tribe, and not allovveil to join in their religious rites 
 or ceremonies, nor in the danee or other amusements. 
 
 The women in all these n|)|)er and western tribes are dceently dressed, 
 and many of them with great beauty and taste ; tlieir dresses are all of deer 
 or goat skins, extending from their chins ([uite down to the feet ; these 
 dresses are in many instances trimmed with ermine, an 1 ornamented with 
 lioreupine quills and beads with exceeding ingenuity. 
 
 Tiie Crow and Blackfeet women, like all others I ever saw in any Indian 
 tribe, divide the hair on the forehead, and paint the separation or crease with 
 vermilion or red earth. For what purpose this little, but universal, custom 
 is ol)served, I never have been able to learn. 
 
 The men amongst the Blackfeet tribe, liave a fashion equally simple, and 
 probably of as little meaning, which seems strictly to be adhered to by every 
 man in the trihe ; they separate the hair in two places on the forehead, 
 leaving a lock between the two, of an inch or two in width, which is care- 
 fully straightened down on to the bridge of the nose, and there cut square 
 otf. It is more than probable that this is done for the purpose of distinction; 
 that they may thereby bf free from the epithet of ell'eminacy, which might 
 fitliervvise attach to thcM. 
 
 These two tribes, whom I have spoke. i of connectedly, speak two distinct 
 and entirely dissimilar languages ; and the language of each is different, 
 and radically so, from that of all other tribes about them. As these people 
 are always at war, and have been, time out of mind, they do not inter- 
 marry or hold converse with each other, by which any knowledge of 
 each other's language could be accjuired. It would be the work of a 
 man's life-time to collect the languages of all the different tribes which I 
 am visiting; and I shall, from necessity, leave this subject chiefly for 
 others, who have the time to devote to them, to explain them to the world. 
 1 have, however, procured a brief vocabulary of their words and sentences 
 in these tribes ; and shall continue to do so amongst the tribes I shall 
 visit, wliich will answer as a specimen or sample in each; and which, in the 
 secpiel to tlicse Letters (if they should ever be published), will probably be 
 arranged. 
 
 The Blackfeet are, perhaps, the most powerfid tribe of Indians on the 
 Continent ; and being sensible of their strength, have stubbornly resisfi d the 
 Traders in their country, who have been gradually forming an acquaintance 
 with them, and endeavouring to establish a permanent and profita!)le system 
 of trade. Their country abounds in beaver and buffalo, and most of the 
 f'ur-bearing animals of North America ; and the American Fur Company, 
 with an unconquerable spirit of trade and enterprize, has pushed its estab- 
 lishments into their country; and the numerous parties of trappers are 
 Uuciug up their streams and rivers, rapidly ileslroying the beavers which 
 
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 dwell' in them. The Blackfeet have repeatedly informed the Traders of the 
 Company, that if their men persisted in trapping beavers in their country, 
 they should kill them whenever they met them. They have executed their 
 threats in many instances, aTid the Company lose some fifteen or twenty men 
 annually, who fall by the hands of these people, in defence of what they 
 deem their property and their rights. Trinkets and whiskey, however, will 
 soon spread their charms amongst these, as they have amongst other tribes; 
 and white man's voracity will sweep the prairies and the streams of their 
 wealth, to the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean ; leaving the Indians 
 to inhabit, and at last to starve upon, a dreary and solitary waste. 
 
 The Blackfeet, therefore, liaving been less traded with, and less seen by 
 white people than mo?t of the other tribes, arc more imperfectly understood ; 
 and it yet remains a question to be solved — whether there are twenty, or 
 forty or fifty thousand of them ? for no one, as yet, can correctly estimate 
 their real strength. From all I can learn, however, which is the best iji- 
 formation that can be got from the Traders, there are not far from 40,000 
 Indians (altogether), who range under the general denomination of 
 Blackfeet. 
 
 From our slight and imperfect knowledge of them, and other tribes 
 occupying the country about the sources of the Missouri, there is no doubt 
 in my mind, that we are in the habit of bringing more Indians into the 
 computation, than are entitled justly to the appellation of " Blackfeet." 
 
 Such, for instance, are the " Grosventres de Prairie" and Cotonnes, 
 neither of which speak the Blackfeet language ; but hunt, and eat, and fight, 
 and intermarry with the Blackfeet ; living therefore in a state of confederacy 
 and friendship with them, but speaking their own language, and praciiciog 
 their own customs. 
 
 The Blackfeet proper are divided into four bands or families, as follow : — 
 the " Pe-a-gans," of 500 lodges ; the " Blackfoot" band, of 450 lodges ; 
 the " Blood" band, of 450 lodges ; and the " Small Robes," of 250 lodges. 
 These four bands constituting about 1650 lodges, averaging ten to the lodge, 
 amount to about 16,500 souls. 
 
 There are then of the other tribes above-mentioned (and whom we, per- 
 haps, incorrectly denominate Blackfeet), Grosventres des Prairies, 430 
 lodges, with language entirely distinct ; Circees, of 220 lodges, and Cotonnes, 
 of 250 lodges, with language also distinct from either.* 
 
 There is in this region a rich and interesting field for the linguist or the 
 antiquarian ; and stubborn facts, I think, if they could be well procured, that 
 would do away the idea which many learned gentlemen entertain, that the 
 
 • Several years since writing tlie above, I held a conversation with Major Pilcher (a 
 strictly correct and honourable man, who was then the agent for these people, who has 
 lived amongst them, and is at this time superintendent of Indian affairs at St. Louis), who 
 informed me, much to my surprise, that the Blackfeet wevq not far from 60,000 in 
 numbers, including all the confederacy of which 1 have juat spoiten. 
 
ry.) 
 
 Indian languages of Noilti Amorit-a can all l»c traced to two or tliree root^. 
 The language of the Dolicotas is entirely and radically distinct from that o"' 
 the Maiidans, and theirs equally so from the Blackfoot and the Crows. And 
 from the lips of Mr. Brazeau, a gcniloman of education and strict observa- 
 tion, who has lived several years with the Blackfeet and Shiennes, and wh' 
 speaks the language of tribes on either side of them, assures me that these 
 languages are radically distinct and dissimilar, as I have above stated ; and 
 also, that although he has been several years amongst those tribes, he has no', 
 been able to trace the slightest resemblance between the Circee, Cotonne, 
 and Blackfoot, and Shienne, and Crow, and Mandan tongues ; and from a 
 great deal of corroborating information, which 1 have got from other persons 
 acquainted with these tribes, I am fully convinced of the correctness of his 
 statements. 
 
 Besides the Blackfeet and Crows, whom I told you were assembled at this 
 place, are also the Knisteneaux (or Crees, as they are commonly called), a 
 very pretty and pleasing tribe of Indians, of about 3000 in number, living 
 on the north of this, and also the Assinneboins and Ojibbeways; both of 
 which tribes also inhabit the country to the north and north-east of the 
 mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 The Knisteneaux are of small stature, but weli-built for strength and 
 activity combined ; are a people of wonderful prowess for their numbers, 
 and have waged an unceasing warfare with the Blackfeet, who are their 
 neighbours and enemies on the west. From thei'' disparity in numbers, 
 they are rapidly thinning the ranks of their warriors, who bravely sacri- 
 fice their lives in contentions with their powerful neighbours. This tribe 
 occupy the country from the mouth of the Yellow Stone, in a north-westera 
 dirjction, far into the British territory, and trade principally at the British 
 N. W. Company's Posts. 
 
 The Assinneboins of seven thousand, and the Ojibbeways of six thou- 
 sand, occupy a vast extent of country, in a north-eastern direction from 
 this ; extending also inio the Britisli possessions as high north as Lake 
 Winnepeg ; and trading principally with the British Company. These three 
 tribes are in a state of nature, living as neighbours, and are also on terms of 
 friendship with each other. This friendship, however, is probably but a 
 temporary arrangement, brought about by the Traders amongst them ; and 
 which, like most Indian peace establishments, will be of short duration. 
 
 The Ojibbeways are, undoubtedly, a part of the tribe of Chippeways, with 
 whoM we are more familiarly acquainted, and who inhabit the south-west 
 shore of Lake Superior. Their language is the same, though they are 
 separated several hundred miles from any of them, and seem to have no 
 knowledge of them, or traditions of the manner in which, or of the tim*? 
 when, they became severed from each other. 
 
 The Assinneboins are a part of the Dohcotas, or Sioux, undoubtedly ; for 
 their personal appearance as well as their language is very similar. 
 
i 
 
 i i 
 
 ^1 
 
 64 
 
 At what time, or in what manner, these two parts of a nation got strayed 
 away from each other is a mystery ; yet such cases have often occurred, of 
 whicii I shall say more in future. Large parties who arc, straying off in pursuit 
 of game, or in the occupation of war, are oftentimes intercepted by their 
 enemy ; and being prevented from returning, are run off to a distant region, 
 where they take up their residence and estabUsh themselves as a nation. 
 
 There is a very curious custom amongst the Assinneboins, from which 
 they have taken their name ; a name given them by their neighbours, from 
 a singular mode they have of boiling their meat, which is done in the » 
 lowing manner : — when they kill meat, a hole is dug in the ground about 
 the size of a common pot, and a piece of the raw hide of the animal, 
 as taken from the back, is put over the hole, and then pressed down with 
 the hands close around the sides, and filled with water. The meat to 
 be boiled is then put in this hole or pot of water ; and in a fire, which is 
 built aear by, several large stones are heated to a red heat, whicli are 
 successively dipped and held in the water until the meat is boiled ; from 
 which singular and peculiar custom, the Ojibbeways have given them the 
 appellation of Assinneboins or stone boilers. 
 
 This custom is a very awkward and tedious one, and used only as an 
 ingenious means of boiling their meat, by a tribe who was too rude and 
 ignorant to construct a kettle or pot. 
 
 The Traders have recently supplied these people with pots ; and even 
 long before that, the Mandans had instructed them in the secret of manu- 
 facturing very good and serviceable earthen pots ; which together have 
 entirely done away the custom, excepting at public festivals ; where they 
 seem, like all others of the human family, to take pleasure in cherishing 
 and perpetuating their ancient customs. 
 
 Of these three tribes, I have also lined my painting-room with a number 
 of very interesting portraits of the distinguished and brave men ; and also 
 representations of their games and ceremonies, which will be found in my 
 Indian Gallery, if I live, and they can be preserved until I get home. 
 
 The Assinneboins, or stone boilers, are a fine and noble looking race of 
 Indians ; bearing, both in their looks and customs, a striking resemblance 
 to the Doiicotas or Sioux, from whom they have undoubtedly sprung. 
 The men are tall, and graceful in their movements ; and wear their pictured 
 robes of the buffalo hide with great skill and pleasing effect. They are 
 good hunters, and tolerably supplied with horses ; and living in a country 
 abounding with buffaloes, are well supplied with the necessaries of Indian 
 life, and may be said to live well. Their games and amusements are many, 
 of which the most valued one is the ball-play; and in addition to which, 
 they have the game of the moccasin, horse-racing, and dancing ; some one 
 of which, they seem to be almost continually practicing, and of all of which 
 I shall hereafter give the reader (as well as of many others of their amuse- 
 nieuts) a minute account 
 
65 
 
 Tlieir dances, which were frequent and varied, were generally exactly tlio 
 same as those of the Sioux, of wliicli I have given a faithful account in uiy 
 Notes on the Sioux, and which the reader will soon meet w ilii. Thcie was 
 one of these scenes, however, that I witnessed tiie other day, which appeared 
 to me to be peculiar to this tribe, and exceedingly picturesque in its effect ; 
 which was described to me as the pipe-dance, and was as follows : — On a 
 hard-trodden pavement in front of their village, which place is used for all 
 their public meetings, and many of their amusements, the young men, who 
 were to compose the dance, had gathered themselves around a small fire 
 (plate 32), and each one sc ited on a buffalo-robe spread upon the ground. 
 In the centre and by the fire, was seated a dignitary, who seemed to be a 
 chief (perhaps a doctor or medicine-man), with a long pipe in his hand, 
 which he lighted at the fire and smoked incessantly, grunting forth at the 
 same time, in half-strangled gutturals, a sort of song, which 1 did not get 
 translated to my satisfaction, and which might have been susceptible of 
 none. While this was going on, another grim-visaged fellow in another 
 part of the group, commenced beating on a drum or tambourine, accom- 
 panied by his voice ; when one of the young men seated, sprang instantly 
 on his feet, and commenced singing in time with the taps of the drum, and 
 leaping about on one foot and the other in the most violent manner imagin- 
 able. In this way he went several times around the circle, bowing and 
 brandishing his fists in the faces of each one who was seated, until at length 
 he grasped one of them by the hands, and jerked him forcibly up upon his 
 feet ; who joined in the dance for a moment, leaving the one who had pulled 
 him up, to continue his steps and his song in the centre of the ring ; whilst 
 he danced around in a similar manner, jerking up another, and then joining 
 his compan on in the centre; leaving the third and the fourth, and so on 
 to drag into the iring, each one his man, until all were upon their feet ; and 
 at last joined in the most frightful gesticulations and yells that seemed 
 almost to make the earth quake under our feet. This strange manoeuvre, 
 which I did but partially understand, lasted for half or three-quarters of an 
 hour ; to the great amusement of the gaping multitude who were assembled 
 around, and broke up with the most piercing yells and barks like those of 
 so many affrighted dogs. 
 
 The Assinneboins, somewhat like the Crows, cultivate their hair to a very 
 great length, in many instances reaching down nearly to the ground ; but 
 in most instances of this kind, I find the great length is produced by splicing 
 or adding on several lengths, which are fastened very ingeniously by means 
 of glue, and the joints obscured by a sort of paste of red earth and glue, 
 with which the hair is at intervals of every two or three inches filled, and 
 divided into locks and slabs of an inch or so in breadth, and falling straight 
 down over the back to the heels 
 
 I have painted the portrait of a very distinguished young man. and son 
 of the chief (plate 28); his dress is a very handsome one, and in every 
 
MM 
 
 .00 
 
 respect answers well to llic dcsciiplions I liave jtivcn above. The name of 
 this man is Wi-jun-jon (the pigeon's .'^gg head), and by the side of liini 
 (ptATE 29) will be sen the portrait of his wile, Chin-cha-pee (the fire bug 
 that creeps), a fine looking squaw, in a handsome dress of tlie mountain- 
 sheep skin, holding in her hand a stick curiously carved, with which every 
 woman in this country is supplied ; for the purpose of digging up the 
 " Pomme Blanche," or prairie turnip, which is found in great quantities in 
 these northern prairies, and furnishes the Indians with an abundant and 
 nourishing food. The women collect these turnips by striking the end of 
 the stick into the ground, and prying them out ; after which they are dried 
 and preserved in their wigwams for use during the season. 
 
 1 have just had the satisfactio i of seeing this travelled-gentleman (Wi- 
 jun-jon) meet his tribe, his wife ai.d his little children ; after an absence of 
 a year or more, on his journey of GOOO miles to Washington City, and back 
 again (in company with Major Sanford, the Indian agent) ; where he has 
 been spending the winter amongst the fashionables in the polished circles of 
 civilized society. And I can assure you, readers, that his entree amongst 
 his own people, in the dress and with the airs of a civilized beau, was one of 
 no ordinary occurrence ; and produced no common sensation amongst the 
 red-visaged Assinneboins, or in the minds of those who were travellers, and 
 but spectators to the scene. 
 
 On his way home from St. Louis to this place, a distance of 2000 miles, 
 I travelled with this gentleman, on the steamer Yellow-Stone ; and saw 
 him step ashore (on a beautiful prairie, where several thousands of his 
 people were encamped), with a complete suit en militaire, a colonel's uni- 
 form of blue, presented to him by the President of the United States, with 
 a beaver hat and .'"eather, with epaulettes of gold — with sash and belt, and 
 broad sword ; with high-heeled boots — with a keg of whiskey under his 
 arm, and a blue umbrella in his hand. In this plight and metamorphose, 
 he took liis position on the bank, amongst his friends — his wife and other 
 relations ; not one of whom exhibited, for an half-hour or more, the least 
 symptoms of recognition, although they knew well who was before them. 
 He also gazed upon them — upon his wife and parents, and little children, 
 who were about, as if they were foreign to him, and he had not a feeling 
 or thought to interchange with them. Thus the mutual gazings upon and 
 from this would-be-stranger, lasted for full half an hour ; when a gradual, 
 but cold and exceedingly formal recognition began to take place, and an 
 acquaintance ensued, which ultimately and smoothly resolved itself, without 
 the least apparent emotion, into its former state ; and the mutual kindred 
 intercourse seemed to flow on exactly where it had been broken off, as if it 
 had been but for a moment, and nothing had transpired in the interim to 
 check or change its character or expression. 
 
 Such is one of the stoic instances of a custom which belongs to all tho 
 North American Indians, forming one of the most striking features in their • 
 
The name (if 
 ; side of hitn 
 3 (the fire bug 
 he nioiintain- 
 h which every 
 Tging up the 
 t quantities in 
 abundant and 
 ng the end of 
 they are dried 
 
 jntleman (Wi- 
 
 an absence of 
 
 City, and back 
 
 where he has 
 
 ished circles of 
 
 intr^e amongst 
 
 au, was one of 
 
 n amongst the 
 
 travellers, and 
 
 of 2000 miles, 
 ane; and saw 
 lusands of his 
 I colonel's uni- 
 :d States, with 
 and belt, and 
 ey under his 
 nietamori^hose, 
 wife und other 
 |more, the least 
 before them, 
 little children, 
 not a feeling 
 ;ings upon and 
 en a gradual, 
 place, and an 
 itself, without 
 lutual kindred 
 ;en off, as if it 
 the interim to 
 
 longs to all tha 
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 character : valued, cherislied and practiced, like niniiy others of their strange 
 notions, for reasons which arc diiliciilt to be learnid or Mnderstood ; and 
 which probably will never be justly appreciated by others tlian them- 
 selves. 
 
 This man, at this time, is creating a wonderful sensation amongst his tribe, 
 who are daily and nightly gathered in gaping and listless crowds aroiUid 
 him, whilst he is descanting upon what he has seen in the fasliionablu world ; 
 and which to them is unintelligible and beyond their comprehension ; for 
 which I find they are already getting him down as a liar and impostor. 
 
 What may ^^e the final results of his travels and initiation into the fashion- 
 able world, and to what disasters his incredible narrations may yet subject 
 the poor fellow in this strange land, time only will develope. 
 
 He is now in disgrace, and spurned by the leading men of the tribe, and 
 rather to be pitied than envied, for the advantages which one might have 
 supposed would have Hown from his fashionable tour. More of this curious 
 occurrence and of this extraordinary man, I will surely give in some future 
 epistles. 
 
 The women of this tribe are often comely, and sometimes pretty ; in 
 PLATE 34, will be seen a fair illustration of the dresses of the women and 
 children, which arc usually made of the skins of the mountain-goat, and 
 ornamented with porcupine's quills and rows of elk's teeth. 
 
 The Knisteneaux (or Crees, as they are more familiarly called in this 
 country) are a very numerous tribe, extending from this place as high north as 
 the shores of Lake Winnepeg ; and even much further in a north-westerly 
 direction, towards, and even through, a great part of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 I have before said of these, that they were about 3000 in numbers — by 
 that, I meant but a small part of this extensive tribe, who are in the habit of 
 visiting the American Fur Company's Establishment, at this place, to do 
 their trading ; and who themselves, scarcely know anything of the great 
 extent of country over which this numerous and scattered family range. 
 Their customs may properly be said to be primitive, as no inroads of civilized 
 habits have been as yet successfully made amongst them. Like the other 
 tribes in these regions, they dress in skins, and gain their food, and conduct 
 their wars in a very similar manner. They are a very daring and most 
 adventurous tribe ; roaming vast distances over the prairies and carrying 
 war into their enemy's country. With the numerous tribe of Blackfeet, tliey 
 are always waging an uncompromising warfare ; and though fewer in numbers 
 and less in stature, they have shewn themselves equal in sinew, and not 
 less successful m mortal combats. 
 
 Amongst the foremost and most renowned of their warriors, is Bro-cas-sie, 
 the broken arm (plate 30), in a handsome dress ; and by the side of 
 him (plate 31), his wife, a simple and comely looking woman. In plate 
 33, will be seen the full length portrait of a young woman with a child on 
 her back, shewing fairly the fashion of cutting and ornamenting the dresses 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
58 
 
 of tlic females in this tribe ; wliich, willioiit further comment, is all I shall 
 tay nt tliis time, of the valorous tril)C of Crccs or Knistcneanx. 
 
 The Ojibbeways I have briiHy mentioned in a former place, and of them 
 •hoidd say more ; which will be done at a proper time, after I Hhall havu 
 visited other branches of this preat and scattered family. 
 
 The chief of that part of the Ojibbcway tribe who inhabit these northern 
 rejifions (plate 35), and whose name is Sha-co-pay (the Six), is a man of 
 hnge size; with dignity of manner, and pride and vanity, just about in 
 proportion to his bulk. He sat for his portrait in a moat beautiful dress, 
 fringed with scalp locks in profusion ; which he had snatched, in his early 
 life from his enemies' heads, and now wears as proud ophies and proofs 
 of what his arm has accomplished in battles with his enemies. His shirt 
 of buckskin is beautifully embroidered and painted in curious hieroglyphics, 
 the history of his battles and charts of his life. Tiiis, and also each and 
 every article of his varied dress, had been manufactured by his wives, of 
 which he had several ; and one, though not the most agreeable (plate 36), 
 is seen represented by his side. 
 
 I have much to see of these people yet, and much consequently to write ; 
 so for the present I close my book. 
 
LETTEU-No. 9. 
 
 MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, UHPEH MlHSUUKI. 
 
 lently to write ; 
 
 SiNCR the (liitos of my otlier Letters from this place, ! h;ive born (nking 
 rome wild rambles about this beautiful country of green (ields ; jolted and 
 tossed about, on horseback and on foot, where pen, ink, and paper never 
 thought of going; and of course the most that I saw and have learned, and 
 would tell to the world, is yet to be written. It is not probable, however, 
 that 1 shall again date a letter at this place, as I commence, in a few days, 
 my voyage down the river in a canoe ; but yet I may give you many a retro- 
 spective glance at this fairy land and its i.musements. 
 
 A traveller on his tour through such a country as this, has no time to write, 
 and scarcely time enough to moralize. It is as much as he can well do to 
 " look out for his scalp," and " for something to cut." Impressions, how- 
 ever, of the most vivid kind, are rajudly and indelibly made by the fleeting 
 incidents of savage life ; and for the mind that can ruminate upon tiicm 
 with pleasure, there arc abundant materials clinging to it for its endless 
 entertainment in driving the quill when he gets back. The mind susceptible 
 of such impressions catches volumes of incidents which are easy to write — 
 it is but to unfold a web which the fascinations of this shorn country and its 
 allurements have spun over the soul — it is but to paint the splendn'I pano- 
 rama of a world entirely different from anything seen or painted before; nith 
 its thousands of miles, and tens of thousands of grassy hills and dales, 
 where nought but silence reigns, and where the soul of a contemplative 
 mould is seemingly lifted up to its Creator. What man in the world, I 
 would ask, ever ascended to the pinnacle of one of Missouri's green-car- 
 peted bluffs, a thousand miles severed from his own familiar land, and 
 giddily gazed over the interminable and boundless ocean of grass-covered 
 hills and valleys which lie beneath him, where the gkom of silence is com- 
 plete — where not even the voice of the sparrow or cricket is heard — without 
 feeling a sweet melancholy come over him, which seemed to drown his sense 
 of everything beneath and on a level with him ? 
 
 It is but to paint a vast country of green fields, where the vien are all red 
 — where meat is the staff of life — where no laws, but those of honour, are 
 known — where the oak and the pine give way to the cotton-wood and peccan 
 — where the buffaloes range, tlie elk, mountain-sheep, and the fleet-bounding 
 
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 60 
 
 antelope — where the magpie and chattering parroquettes supply the place of 
 the red-breast and the blue-bird — where wolves are white and bears grizzly 
 — where pheasants are hens of the prairie, and frogs have horns ! — where 
 the rivers are yeilow, and white men are turned savages in looks. Through 
 the whole of this strange land the dogs are all wolves — women all slaves — 
 men all lords. The sun and rats alone (of all the list of old acquaintance), 
 could be recognised in this country of strange metamorphose. The former 
 shed everywhere his familiar rays ; and Monsr. Ratapon was hailed as an 
 old acq-iaintance, which it gave me pleasure to meet ; though he had grown 
 a little more savage in his look. 
 
 In traversing the immense regions of the classic West, the mind of a 
 philantliropist is filled to the brim with feelings of admiration; but to 
 reach this country, one is obliged to descend from the light and glow of 
 civilized atmosphere, through the different grades of civilization, which 
 gradually sink to thr . ^ost deplorable condition along the extreme frontier ; 
 thence through the mast pitiable misery and wretchedness of savage degra- 
 dation ; where the genius of natural liberty and independence iiave been 
 blasted and destroyed by the contaminating vices and dissipations introduced 
 by the immoral part of civilized society. Through this dark and sunken 
 vale of wretchedness one hurries, as through a pestilence, until he gradually 
 rises again into the proud and chivalrous pale of savage society, in its 
 state of original nature, beyond the reach of civilized contamination ; here 
 he finds much to fix his enthusiasm upon, and much to admire. Even 
 here, the predominant passions of the savage breast, of ferocity and cruelty, 
 are often found ; yet restrained, and frequently subdued, by the noblest traits 
 of honour and magnanimity, — a race of men who live and enjoy life and its 
 luxuries, and practice its virtues, very far beyond the usual estimation of 
 the world , who are apt to judge the savage and his virtues from the poor, 
 degraded, and humbled specimens which alone can be seen along our 
 frontiers. From the first, settlements of our Atlantic coast to the present 
 day, the bane of this blasting frontier has regularly crowded upon them, 
 from the northern to the southern extremities of our country ; and, like the 
 tire in a prairie, which destroys everything where it passes, it has blasted 
 and sunk them, and all but their names, into oblivion, wherever it has 
 travelled. It is to this tainted class alone that the epithet of " poor, naked, 
 and drunken savage," can be, with propriety, applied ; for all those nume- 
 rous tribes which I have visited, and are yet uncorrupted by the vices of 
 civilized acquaintance, are well clad, in many instances cleanly, and in the 
 full enjf yment of life and its luxuries. It is for the character and preservation 
 ot these noble fellows that I am an enthusiast ; and it is for these uncontami- 
 nated people that I would be willing to devote the energies of ray life. It 
 is a sad I'.nd melancholy truth to contemplate, that all the numerous tribes 
 who inhabited our vast Atlantic States have not " fled to the West ;" — that 
 t)»ey are not to le found here — that they have been blasted by the fire which 
 
pply the place of 
 ind bears grizzly 
 e horns ! — where 
 looks. Through 
 men all slaves — 
 d acquaintance), 
 ise. The former 
 V7as hailed as an 
 gh he had grown 
 
 t, the mind of a 
 niration ; but to 
 light and glow of 
 ivilization, which 
 extreme frontier; 
 of savage degra- 
 dence iiave been 
 )ations introduced 
 dark and sunken 
 until he gradually 
 ge society, in its 
 itamination ; here 
 to admire. Even 
 ocity and cruelty, 
 the noblest traits 
 enjoy life and its 
 ;ual estimation of 
 :s from the poor, 
 seen along our 
 ist to the present 
 ded upon them, 
 ;ry ; and, like the 
 IS, It has blasted 
 wherever it has 
 of " poor, naked, 
 all those nume- 
 by the vices of 
 lanly, and in the 
 and preservation 
 [these uncontami- 
 s of my life. It 
 numerous tribes 
 le West :"— that 
 by the fire which 
 
 ^•j 
 
 ..^ 
 
 s— ^ 
 
 
 ^J 
 
 
 i I 
 I 
 
 
 CO 
 
 mi«v' nr' i ' 
 
 iJjtafaV 
 
 j^'..ii^ -^■:a:..^.-^tjgCTjft.^»-«-....^...'..,^..:^t- 
 
Gl 
 
 has pa&sed over them — have sunk into their graves, and everything but iheir 
 names travelled into oblivion. 
 
 The distinctive character of all these Western Indians, as well as their 
 traditions relative to their ancient locations, prove beyond a doubt, that they 
 have been for a very long time located on the soil which they now possess ; 
 and in most respects, distinct and unlike those nations who formerly inhabited 
 the Atlantic coast, and who (according to the erroneous opinion of a great 
 part of the world), have fled to the West. 
 
 It is for these inoffensive and unoffending people, yet unvisited by the vices 
 of civilized society, that I would proclaim to the world, that it is time, for the 
 honour of our country — for the honour of every citizen of the republic — and 
 for the sake of humanity, that our government should raise her strong arm 
 to save the remainder of them from the pestilence which is rapidly advancing 
 upon them. We have gotten from them territory enough, and the country 
 which they now inhabit is most of it too barren of timber for the use of civi- 
 lized man ; it affords them, however, the means and luxuries o" savage life; 
 and it is to be hoped that our government will not acquiesce in the conti- 
 nued wilful destiuction of these happy people. 
 
 My heart has sometimes almost bled with pity for them, while amongst 
 them, and witnessing their innocent amusements, as I have contemplated 
 the inevitable bane that was rapialy advancing upon Lhem ; without that 
 check from the protecting arm ot government, and which alone could shield 
 them from destruction . 
 
 What degree of happiness these sons of Nature may attain to in the world, 
 in their own way ; or in what proportion they may relish the pleasures of 
 life, compared to the sum of happiness belonging to civilized society, has 
 long been a subject of much doubt, and one which I cannot undertake to 
 decide at this time. 1 would say thus much, however, that if tin, thirst for 
 knowledge has entailed everlasting miseries on mankind from the beginning 
 of the world ; if refined and intellectual pains increase in proportion to our 
 intellectual pleasures, I do not see that we gain much advantage over them 
 on that score ; and judging from the full-toned enjoyment which beams from 
 their happy faces, I should give it as my opinion, that their lives were much 
 more happy than ours ; that is, if the word happiness is properly applied to 
 the enjoyments of those who have not experienced the light of the Christian 
 religion. I have long looked with the eye of a critic, into the jovial faces 
 of these sons of the forest, unfiirrowed with cares — where tiie agonizing feel- 
 ing of poverty had never stamped distress upon the brow. I have watched 
 the bold, intrepid step — the proud, yet dignified deportment of Nature's man, 
 in fearless freedom- with a soul unalloyed by mercenary lusts, too great to 
 yield to laws or power except from God. As these mdependent fellows are 
 all joint-tenants of the soil, they are all rich, and none of the steepings of 
 comparative poverty can strangle their just claims to renown. Who (I would 
 
r rr, 
 
 If 
 
 i 
 
 i\ 
 
 62 
 
 ask) can look without admiring, into a society where peace and harmony 
 prevail — where virtue is ciierished — where rights are protected, and wrongs 
 are redressed —with no laws, but the laws of honour, which are tiie supreme 
 laws of their land. Trust the boasted virtues of civilized society for awhile, 
 with all its intellectual refinements, to such a tribunal, and then write down 
 the degradation of the " lawless savage," and our trancendent virtues. 
 
 As these people have no laws, the sovereign right of summary redress lies 
 in the breast of the party (or friends of the party) aggrieved ; and infinitely 
 more dreaded is the certainty of cruel revenge from the licensed hands of an 
 offended savage, than the slow and uncertain vengeance of the law. 
 
 If you think me enthusiast, be it so ; for I deny it not. It has ever been 
 the predominant passion of my soul to seek Nature's wildest haunts, and 
 give my hand to Nature's men. Legends of these, and visits to those, filled 
 the earliest page of my juvenile impressions. 
 
 The tablet has stood, and I am an enthusiast for God's works as He left 
 them. 
 
 The sad tale of my native "valley,"* has been beautifully sung; and 
 from the flight of " Gertrude's" soul, my young hnagination closely traced 
 the savage to his deep retreats, and gazed upon him in dreadful horror, un- 
 til pity pleaded, and admiration worked a charm. 
 
 A journey of 4000 miles from the Atlantic shore, regularly receding from 
 the centre of civilized society to the extreme wilderness of Nature's original 
 work, and back again, opens a lioc.k for many an interesting tale to be 
 sketched ; and the mind which lives, but to relish the works of Nature, reaps 
 a reward on such a tour of a much higher order than can arise from the 
 selfish expectations of pecuniary emolument. Notwithstanding all that has 
 been written and said, there is scarcely any subject on which the knowing 
 people of the East, are yet less informed and instructed than on the charac- 
 ter and amusements of the West : by this I mean the *' Far West ;" — the 
 country whose fascinations spread a charm over the mind almost dangerous 
 to civilized pursuits. Few people even know the true definition of the term 
 " West ;" and where is its location ? — phantom-like it flies before us as we 
 travel, and on our way is continually gilded, before us, as we approach the 
 setting sun. 
 
 In the commencement of my Tour, several of my travelling companions 
 from the city of New York, found themselves at a frightful distance to the 
 West, when we arnved at Niagara Falls ; and hastened back to amuse their 
 friends with tales and scenes of the West. At Buffalo a steam-boat was 
 landing with 400 passengers, and twelve days out — " Where from ?" "From 
 the West." In the rich state of Ohio, hundreds were selling their farms and 
 going — to the West. In the beautiful city of Cincinnati, people said to me, 
 " Our town has passed the days of its most rapid growth, it is not far enough 
 West." — In St. Jouis, 1400 miles west of New York, my landlady assured 
 
63 
 
 nd harmony 
 
 , and wrongs 
 the supreme 
 y for awhile, 
 , write down 
 'irtues. 
 y redress lies 
 \nd infinitely 
 
 hands of an 
 law. 
 las ever been 
 
 haunts, and 
 3 those, filled 
 
 ks an He left 
 
 y sung ; and 
 ;losely traced 
 1 horror, un- 
 
 eceding from 
 
 Lure's original 
 
 g tale to be 
 
 Nature, reaps 
 
 rise from the 
 
 all that has 
 
 the knowing 
 
 the charac- 
 
 ►Vest;"— the 
 
 st dangerous 
 
 of the term 
 
 ore us as we 
 
 pproach the 
 
 companions 
 ptance to the 
 
 amuse their 
 am-boat was 
 
 1?" "From 
 |ir farms and 
 
 said to me, 
 
 far enough 
 lady assured 
 
 me that I would be pleased with her boarders, for they were nearly all 
 merchants from the " West." I there asked, — "Whence come those steam- 
 boats, laden with pork, honey, hides, &c. ?" 
 
 From the West. 
 
 Whence those ponderous bars of silver, which those men have been for 
 hours shouldering and putting on board that boat ? 
 
 They come from Santa Fee, from the West. 
 
 Where goes this steam-boat so richly laden with dry goods, steam- 
 engines, &c. ? 
 
 She goes to Jefferson city. 
 
 Jefferson city ? — Where is that ? 
 
 Far to the West. 
 
 And where goes that boat laden down to her gunnels, the Yellow Stone ? 
 
 She goes still farther to the West—" Then," said I, " I'll go to the West." 
 
 I went on the Yellow Stone — • * • » 
 
 * • * Two thousand miles on her, and we were at 
 
 the mouth of Yellow Stone river — at the West. What ! invoices, bills of 
 lading, &c., a wholesale establishment so far to the West! And those 
 strange looking, long-haired gentlemen, who have just arrived, and are 
 relating the adventures of their long and tedious journey. Who are they ? 
 
 Oh ! they are some of our merchants just arrived from the West. 
 
 And that keel-boat, that Mackini.w-boat, am that formidable caravan, 
 all of which aro richly laden with goods. 
 
 These, Sir, are outfits starting for the West. 
 
 Going to the W^es^ ha ? "Ther," said I, " I'll try it again. 1 will try 
 and see if I can go to the West." 
 
 • ♦ * What, a Fort here, too ? 
 
 Oui, Monsieur— oui. Monsieur (as a dauntless, and semibarbarian-looking, 
 jolly fellow, dashed forth in advance of his party on his wild horse to meet 
 me.) 
 
 What distance are you west of Yellow Stone here, my good fellow ? 
 
 Comment ? 
 
 What distance ? — (stop)- -quel distance ? 
 
 Pard6n, Monsieur, je np sais pas. Monsieur. 
 
 Ne parlez vous I'Anglais ? 
 
 Non, Monsr. I speaks de French and de Americaine ; mais je ne parle 
 pas I'Anglais. 
 
 " Well then, my good fellow, I will speak English, and you may speak 
 Americaine." 
 
 Pardon, pardon, Monsieur. 
 
 Well, then we will both speak Americaine. 
 
 Val, sare, je suis bien content, pour for I see dat you speaks putty coot 
 Americaine. 
 
 What may I call 
 

 I 
 
 '« 
 
 1 
 
 
 :■ \ i 1 
 
 
 ; I 
 
 ' 
 
 
 i 
 
 ^ _ 
 
 
 
 
 
 04 
 
 Ba'tistc, Monsieur 
 
 What Indians are those so splendidly dressed, and with such fine horses, 
 encamped on the plain yonder? 
 lis sont Corbeaux. 
 
 Crows, lia ? 
 
 Yes, aare. Monsieur. 
 
 We are then in the Crow country ? 
 
 Non, Monsieur, not putty 6xact ; wc are in de coontrae of do dam Pieda 
 noirs. 
 
 Blackfeet, ha ? 
 
 Qui. 
 
 What blue mountain is that which wc sec in the distance yonder ? 
 
 Ha, (juel Montaigne ? cela est la Montaigne du (pardon), 
 
 Du Rochers, 1 suppose ? 
 
 Oui, MonsLur, de Rock Montaigne. 
 
 You live here, I suppose ? ' 
 
 Non, Monsieur, I comes fair from de West. 
 
 What, from the West ! Where under the heavens is that ? 
 
 Wat, ditiMe ! de West ? well you shall sec, Monsieur, he is putty fair off, 
 suppose. Monsieur Pierre Chouteau can give you de histoire de ma vie— 
 il bien sait que je prends les castors, very fair in de West. 
 
 You carry goods, I suppose, to trade with the Snake Indians beyond the 
 mountains, and trap beaver also ' 
 
 Oui, Monsieur. 
 
 Do you see anything of the " Flat-heads" in your country ? 
 
 Non, Monsieur, ils demeurent very, very fair to de West. 
 
 Well, Ba'tistc, I'll lay my course back again for the present, and at some 
 future period, endeavour to go to the " West." But you say you trade 
 with the Indians and trap beavers ; you are in the employment of the Ame- 
 rican Fur Company, I suppose ? 
 
 Non^ Monsieur, not quite exact ; mais, suppose, I am "free trappare" 
 free, Monsr. free 
 
 Free trapper, what's that ? I don't understand you, T I'tiste. 
 
 Well, Monsr. suppose he is easy pour understand — you shall know all. 
 In de first place, I am enlist for tree year in de Fur Comp in St. Louis — 
 for bounte — pour bounte, eighty doUare (understand, ha ?) den I am go 
 for wages, et I ave come de Missouri up, et I am trap castors putty much 
 for six years, you see, until I am learn very much ; and den you see, Monsr. 
 M'Kenzie is give me tree horse — one pour ride, et two pour pack (mais lie 
 is not buy, him not give> he is lend), and he is lend twelve trap ; and I ave 
 make start into de Rocky Montaigne, et I am live all alone on de leet rivares 
 pour prendre les castors. Sometime six months — sometime five month, and 
 I come back to Yel Stone, et Monsr. M'Kenzie is give me coot price 
 pour all. 
 
 /^, 
 
06 
 
 fine Iiorst!8i 
 
 ) duni Pieda 
 
 Icr? 
 
 lutty fair otf, 
 le ma vie— 
 
 I beyond the 
 
 and at some 
 
 y you trade 
 
 f the Ame- 
 
 trappare," 
 
 know all. 
 it. Louis — 
 I am go 
 nitty much 
 sec, Monsr. 
 fk (mais he 
 
 and I ave 
 lleet rivares 
 ^lontl), and 
 
 coot price 
 
 So Mr. M'Kenzie fits you out, r.nd takes your beaver of yon at a ocrtain 
 price ? 
 
 Oui, Monar. oui. 
 
 What price does he pay you for your beaver, Ba'tistc ? 
 
 Ha ! s6ppose one dollare pour one beavc-e. 
 
 A dollar per skin, ah ? 
 
 )me and hazardous sort of life ; can you 
 
 Oui. 
 
 Well, you must live a lon> 
 make anything by it ? 
 
 Oh ! oui, Monsr. putty coot, mais if it is not pour for de dam rascalit6 
 Riccaree, et de dam Pieds noirs, de Biackfoot Ingin, I am make very 
 mucli monnair, mais (sacr6), I am rob — rob — rob too much ! 
 
 What, do the Blackfeet rob you of your furs ? 
 
 Oui, Monsr. rob, suppose, five time ! I am been free trappare seven year, 
 et I am rob five time — I am sometiig left not at all — he is take all ; he is take 
 all de horse — he is take my gun — he is take all my clothes — he is takee de 
 castors — et I am come back wi»n foot. So in de Fort, some cloths is cost 
 putty much monnair, ct some whiskey is give sixteen dollares pour gall ; 
 so you see I am owe de Fur Comp 600 dollare, by Gar ! 
 
 Well, Ba'tiste, this then if what you call being a free trapper is it ? 
 
 Oui, Monsr. " free trappr.re," free J 
 
 You seem to be going down towards the Yellow Stone, and probably 
 have been out on a trapp'ng excursion. 
 
 Oui, Monsr. c'est vra". 
 
 Have yon been robbed this time, Ba'tiste? 
 
 Oui, Monsr. by de lam Pieds noirs — 1 am loosfi much ; I am loose all- 
 very all eh h'lea — pour Ic dernier — c'est le dernier fois, Monsr. I am 
 
 go to Yel Stone — I am go le Missouri down, I am go to St. Louis. 
 
 Well, Ba'tiste, I am to figure about in this part of the world a few weeks 
 longer, and then J shall descend the Missouri from the mouth of Yellow 
 Stone, to St. Lous; and I should like exceedingly to employ just such a 
 man as you are .is a voyageur with me — I will give you good wages, and 
 pay all your expenses ; what say you ? 
 
 Avec tout mor cour, Monsr. remercie, remercie. 
 
 It's a bargain then, Ba'tiste ; 1 will see you at the mouth of Yellow Stone. 
 
 Oui, Monsr. ii de Yel Stone, bon soir, bon soir, Monsr. 
 
 But stop, Ba'tiste, you told me those were Crows encamped yonder. 
 
 Oui, Monsieur, oui, des Corbeaux. 
 
 And I suppos2 you are their interpreter? 
 
 Non, Monsiei r. 
 
 But you speal: the Crow language? 
 
 Ouis, Monsiet r. 
 
 Well then, turn about; I am going to pay them a visit, and you can 
 render me a serv ce.— Bien, Monsieur, allona, 
 
 VOL. 1. " K 
 
(id 
 
 LETTER— No. 10. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGK. UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 ' I 
 
 Soon after the writing of my last Letter, which was daied at th« 
 of Yellow Stone, I emliarked on tlie river for tliis place, where I landed 
 safely ; and have resided for a couple of weeks, a guest in this almost sub- 
 terraneous city — the strangest place in the world ; where one sees in the 
 most rapid succession, scenes wliich force him to mirth — to pity and cum- 
 passion — to admiration — disgust ; to fear and astonishment. But beforo I 
 proceed to reveal them, I must give you a brief sketch of my voyage down 
 the river from the Mouth of the Yellow Stone river to this place, a distance 
 of 200 miles ; and which my little note-book says, was performed somewhat 
 in the following manner ; 
 
 When I had completed my rambles and my sketches in those regions, 
 and Ba'tiste and Bogard had taken their lust spree, and fought their last 
 battles, and forgotten them in tlu' final and affectionate embrace and farewell 
 (all of which are habitual with these game-fellows, when settling up their 
 long-standing accounts with their fellow-trappers of the mountain streams) ; 
 and after Mr. M'Kenzic had procured for me a snug little craft, that was to 
 waft us down the mighty torrent ; we launched off one fine morning, taking 
 our leave of the Fort, and the friends within it ; and also, for ever, of the 
 beautiful green fields, and hills, and dales, and prairie bluffs, that encompass 
 the enchanting shores of the Yellow Stone. 
 
 Our canoe, which was made of green timber, was heavy and awkward ; 
 but our course being with the current, promised us a fair and successful 
 voyage. Ammunition was laid in in abundance — a good stock of dried 
 buffalo tongues — a dozen or two of beavers' tails — and a good supply of 
 pemican. Bogard and Ba'tiste occupied the middle and bow, with their 
 paddles in their hands ; and I took my seat in the stern of the boat, at the 
 steering oar. Our larder was as I have said ; and added to that, some few 
 pounds of fresh buffalo meat. 
 
 Besides which, and ourselves, our little craft carried several packs of Indian 
 dresses and other articles, which I had purchased of the Indians : and also 
 my canvass and easel, and our culinary articles, which were few and simple ; 
 
consisting of three tin cups, a coffee-pot — one plate — a frying-pan— and u 
 tin kettle 
 
 Tliiis fitted out and emburkcd, we swept off at a rapid rate under tlie 
 shouts of the savages, and tiie cheers of our friends, wiio lined the bituks as 
 wc j^rudually lost sij^ht of tlicni, and turned our eyes towards St. Louis, 
 wliicli was '2000 miles be!ow uh, with nought intervening, siive tlie wide- 
 spri'iul aiul wild regions, inhabited by the roaming savage. 
 
 At tiie end of our first day's journey, wc found ourselves handily encamp- 
 ing witli several thousand Assinneboins, who had pitched their tents uikhi 
 the blink of the river, and received us with every mark of esteem and 
 friendship. 
 
 In the midst of this group, was my friend VVi-jun-jon (the pigeon's egg 
 head), still lecturing on the manners and customs of the *' pale faces." 
 (-'outinuing to relate without any appearance of exhaustion, the marvellous 
 scenes which he had witnessed amongst the wliite people, on his tour to 
 Wiisiungton City. 
 
 Mai.y were the ga/.ers who seemed to be the whole time crowding around 
 him, to hear his recitals ; and tlio plight which he was in rendered iiis appear- 
 ance quito ridiculous, llis beautiful military dress, of wit' :h I before spoke, 
 had been io shockin;^ly tattered and metamorphosed, ll. '. his appearance 
 was truly lau;!;hable. 
 
 flis keg of whiskey had dealt out to his friends all its charms — his 
 frock-coat, which his wife had thought was of no earthly use below the 
 waist, had been cut off at that place, and the nether half of it supplied 
 her with a beautiful pair of leggings; and his silver-laced hat- band had 
 been converted into a splendid pair of garters for the same. His umbrella 
 the poor fellow still affectionately held on to, and kept spread at all 
 times. As I before said, his theme seemed to be exhaustless, and he, 
 in the estimation of his tribe, to be an unexampled liar. 
 
 Of the village of Assinneboins we took leave on the following morning, 
 and rapidly made our way down the river. The rate of the current being 
 four or five miles per hour, through one continued series of pictures<iue 
 grass-covered bluffs and knolls, which everywhere had the appearance of 
 an old and highly-cultivated country, with houses and fences removed. 
 
 There is, much of the way, on one side or the other, a bold and abrupt 
 precipice of three or four hundred feet in elevation, presenting itself in an 
 exceedingly rough and picturesque form, to the shore of the river ; sloping 
 down from the summit level of the prairies above, which sweep off from the 
 brink of the precipice, almost level, to an unknown distance. 
 
 It IS along the rugged and wild fronts of these cliffs, whose sides are 
 generally formed of hard clay, that the mountain-sheep dwell, and are often 
 discovered in great numbers. Their habits are much like those of the goat ; 
 and in every respect they are like that animal, except in the horns, which 
 resemble those of the ram ; sometimes making two entire circles in their 
 
coil ; and at the roofs, each horn is, i.i some Instances, from five to six inches 
 in breadth. 
 
 On lilt! second day of our voyage \\c discovered a number of ttu-se 
 animals siiippin^ aluii;.; the sides of tlu' precipice, always lieeping aimiit 
 eipii-distant ijetwecii llio top and bottom of the Icdjje ; liupint; and vaulting 
 in the most extraordinary manner from point to point, and seeming to cling 
 actually, to the sides of the wall, where neither man nor beast could possibly 
 follow them. 
 
 We landed our canoe, and endeavoured to shoot one of these sagacious 
 animals; and after he had led us a long and fruitless eluu'!, uniongst the 
 ciifTs, we thought we had fairly entrapped him in such a way as to be sure 
 to bring him, at last, within the command of our rifles; v;hen he suddenly 
 bounded from his narrow foot-hold in the letlge, and tumbled down a 
 ilistance of more than a hundred feet, amongst the fragmeiits of rocks and 
 clay, where I thought we must certainly find his carcass v. illiout further 
 trouble ; when, to my great surprise, I saw him bounding olF, and he was 
 almost instantly out of my sight, 
 
 Bogard, who was an old hunter, and well acquainted with thefe creatures, 
 shouldered his rifle, and said to me — " the game is up ; and you now see 
 the use of those big horns ; when ihey fall by accident, or find it necessary 
 to quit their foot-hold in the crevice, they fall upon their head at a great 
 distance unharmed, /en though it should be on the solid rock." 
 
 Being on shore, and our canoe landed secure, we whiled away the greater 
 part of this day amongst the wild and ragged clilfs, into which we had 
 entered ; and a part of our labours were vainly spent in the pursuit of a 
 war-eagle. This noble bird is the one which the Indians in these regions, 
 value so highly for their tail feathers, which are used as the most valued 
 plumes for decorating the heads and dresses of their warriors. It is a beautiful 
 bird, and, the Indians tell me, conquers all other varieties of eagles in the 
 country ; from which circumstance, the Indians respect the bird, and hold it 
 in the highest esteem, and value its quills. I am unable so say to what 
 variety it belongs; but I am sure it is not to be seen in any of our 
 museums ; nor is it to be found in America (I think), until one gets near to the 
 base of the Rocky Mountains. This bird has often been called the calumet 
 eagle and war-eagle ; the last of which appellations I have already accounted 
 for; and the other has arisen from the fact, that the Indians almost invari- 
 ably ornament their calumets or pipes of peace with its quills. 
 
 Our day's loitering brought us through many a wild scene ; occasionally 
 across the tracks of the grizzly bear, and, in sight merely of a band of 
 buffaloes ; " which got the wind of us," and were out of the way, leaving ua 
 to return to our canoe at night, with a mere speck of good luck. Just 
 before we reached the river, I heard the crack of a rifle, and in a few moments 
 Bogard came in sight, and threw down from his shoulders a fine antelope ; 
 which added to our larder, and we were ready to proceed. We embarked 
 
GU 
 
 nnJ trnvplle<l until ni)<;litrall, when wc *MU.nini)C(l nii a hcaiitirnl little pniiritf 
 at liii; Ijiiitc of 11 si'rii's ot" t^rass-covcred hliills ; iiiiil (lie iu\t morniii;; fookod 
 our hrcukfast uud ate it, and rowed on until lute in the aftermion ; wluni wo 
 slopped at tlio l)a«c of some Iiuj^cclay IjIiiU's, fomiin^ono of llio most cuiious 
 and roumntic iiccncs iniayinabii-. At tins spot llio river e\paiuls itself into 
 tilt* a|)pearancesoniewlint of a i>eautiriii lake ; and in the midst of it, and on 
 and about its sand-bars, flouted and stood, hundreds and thousands of white 
 swans and pelicans. 
 
 '|'houu,h the scene in trout of our encampment at this place was placid 
 and beautiful; with its flowing water — its wild fowl — and its almost endless 
 variety of gracefidly slopin;;^ hills and green prairies in the distance ; yet it 
 was not less wild and |)ictui( s(|\io in our rear, whc.e the rujiged and 
 various coloured bluHs were grouped in all the wildest fancies and rudeness 
 of Nature's accidental varieties. 
 
 The whole conntry behind us sremod to have been dug and thrown up 
 into huge piles, us if SOUK! giant mason had been there mixing his mortar 
 and paints, and throwing together his rude models for some sublime structure 
 of a colossal city ; — with its walls -its donies— its ramparts — its huge porticos 
 and galleries — its castles — its fosses and ditches ; — aiul in the midst o',' his 
 progress, he had abandoned his works to the destroying huiul of time, which 
 hud already done much to tumble them down, and deface their noble struc- 
 ture ; by jostling them together, wit.'i nil their vivid colours, into fn unsys- 
 tematic and uuintelligil)le mass of sublime ruins. 
 
 To this group of clay bluffs, which line the river for many miles in dis- 
 tance, the voyageurs have very appropriately given the name of "the Brick- 
 kilns ;" owing to their red uppearunce, which may be discovered in a clear 
 day at the distance of many leagues. 
 
 By the action of water, or other power, the country seems to have been 
 graded away ; leaving occasionally a solitary mound or bluff, rising in a 
 conical form to the height of two or three hundred feet, generally pointed or 
 rounded at the top, and in some places grouped together in great numbers ; 
 some of which having a tabular surface on the top, and covered with a green 
 turf. This fi\ct (as all of those which are horizontal on their tops, and cor- 
 responding exactly with the summit level of the wide-spreading prairies in 
 distance) clearly shows, that their present isolated and rounded forms have 
 been produced by the action of waters : which have carried away the 
 intervening earth, and left them in the picturesque shapes in which they are 
 now seen. 
 
 A similar formation (or Weformation) may be seen in hundreds of places 
 on the shores of the Missouri river, and the actual progress of the operation 
 by which it is produced ; leaving yet for the singularity of this place, tiie 
 peculiar feature, that nowhere else (to my knowledge) occurs ; that the 
 superstratum, forming the tops of these mounds (where they r&main high 
 enough to support anything of the original surface) is composed, for the 
 
70 
 
 . 
 
 t ' i 
 
 depth of fifteei. feet, of red pumice ; terminating at its bottom, in a layer of 
 several feet of sedimentary deposile, which is formed into endless conglo- 
 ir.arates of basaltic crystals. 
 
 This strange feature in the country arrests the eye of a traveller suddenly, 
 and as instantly brings him to the conclusion, that he stands in the midst of 
 the ruins of an extinguished volcano. 
 
 As will be seen in the drawings (plate 37, a near view, and plate 38, 
 a distant view), the sides of these conical bluflFs (which are composed of 
 strata of different coloured clays), are continually washing down by tl»c 
 effect of the rains and melting of the frost ; and the superincumbent 
 masses of pumice and basalt are crumbling off, and falling down to their 
 bases ; and from thence, in vast quantities, by the force of the gorges of 
 water which are often cutting their channels between them — carried into 
 the river, which i& close by ; and wafted for thousands of miles, floating as 
 light as a cork upon its surface, and lodging in every pile of drift-wood 
 from this place to the ocean. 
 
 The upper part of this layer of pumice is of a brilliant red ; and when 
 the sun is shining upon it, is as bright and vivid as vermilion. It is porous 
 and open, and its specific gravity but trifling. These curious bluffs must 
 be seen as they are in nature ; or else in a painting, where their colours are 
 faithfully given, or they lose their picturesque beauty, which consists in the 
 variety of their vivid tints. The strata of clay are alternating from red to 
 yellow — white — brown and dark blue ; and so curiously arranged, as to 
 form the most pleasing and singular effects. 
 
 During the day that I loitered about this strange scene, I left my 
 men stretched upon the grass, by the canoe ; and taking my rifle and 
 sketch-book in my hand, 1 wandered and clambered through the rugged 
 defiles between the bluffs ; passing over and under ihe immense blocks 
 of the pumice, that had fallen to their bases ; determined, if possible, to 
 find the crater, or source, from whence these strange phenomena had 
 sprung ; but after clambering and squeezing about for some time, I unfor- 
 tunately came upon the enormous tracks of a grizzly bear, which, ap- 
 parently, was travelling in the same direction (probably for a very different 
 purpose) but a few moments before me ; and my ardour for exploring was 
 instantly so cooled down, that I hastily retraced my steps, and was satisfied 
 with making my drawings, and collecting specimens of the lava and other 
 minerals in its vicinity. 
 
 After strolling about during the day, and contemplating the beauty of 
 the scenes that were around me, while 1 sat upon the pinnacles of these 
 pumice-capped mounds ; most of which time, Bogard and Ba'ttste laid en- 
 joying the pleasure of a " mountaineer's nap" — we met together — took our 
 cofiee and dried buffalo tongues — spread our buffalo robes upon the grass, 
 ani enjoyed during the night the luxury of sleep, that belongs so peculiarly 
 to the tiled voyageur in these realms of pure air and dead silence. 
 
in a layer of 
 Jless conglo- 
 
 ler suddenly, 
 J the midst of 
 
 d PLATE 38, 
 
 composed of 
 down by the 
 perincumbent 
 iown to their 
 the gorges of 
 — carried into 
 ss, floating as 
 of drift-wood 
 
 id ; and when 
 It is porous 
 IS blufis must 
 ir colours are 
 consists in the 
 ; from red to 
 ranged, as to 
 
 I left my 
 my rifle and 
 the rugged 
 nense blocks 
 possible, to 
 nomena had 
 ime, I unfor- 
 which, ap- 
 ery difl'erent 
 ploring was 
 was satisfied 
 iva and other 
 
 le beauty of 
 cles of these 
 twte laid en- 
 ;r — took our 
 »on the grass, 
 so peculiarly 
 
 21 
 
 37 
 
 0. Catlin 
 
 'M 
 
i! 
 
 M 
 
 fS 
 
 ;«^r 
 
71 
 
 In the morning, and before sunrise, as usual, Bogard (who was a Yankee, 
 and a " wide-awake-fellow," just retiring from a ten years' siege of hunting 
 and trapping in the Rocky Mountains,) thrust his head out fiom under the 
 robe, rubbing his eyes open, and exclaiming as he grasped for his gun, 
 " By darn, look at old Cale ! will you !" Ba'tiste, who was more fond of 
 his dreams, snored away, muttering something that I could not understand, 
 when Bogard seized him with a grip, that instantly shook off his iron slum- 
 bers. I rose at the same time, and all eyes were turned at once upon 
 Caleb (as the grizzly bear is familiarly called by the trappers in the Rocky 
 Mountains— or more often '• Cale," for brevity's sake), who was sitting up 
 in the dignity and fury of her sex, within a few rods, and gazing upon us, 
 with her two little cubs at her side ! here was a "^x," and a subject for the 
 painter ; but I had no time to sketch it — I turned my eyes to the canoe 
 which had been fastened at the shore a few paces from us ; and saw that 
 everything had been pawed out of it, and all eatables had been without 
 ceremony devoured. My packages of dresses and Indian curiosities had 
 been drawn out upon the bank, and deliberately opened and inspected. 
 Every thing had been scraped and pawed out, to the bottom of the boat ; 
 and even the rawhide thong, with which it was tied to a stake, had been 
 chewed, and no doubt swallowed, as there was no trace of it remaining. 
 Nor was this peep 'nto the secrets of our luggage enough for her insatiable 
 curiosity — we saw by the prints of her huge paws, that were left in the 
 ground, that she had been perambulating our humble mattresses, smelling 
 at our toes and our noses, without choosing to molest us ; verifying a trite 
 saying of the country, " That man lying down is medicine to the grizzly 
 bear ;" though it is a well-known fact, that man and beast, upon their feet, 
 are sure to be attacked when they cross the path of this grizzly and grim 
 monster, which is the teiror of all this country; often growing to the 
 enormous size of eight hundred or one thousand pounds. 
 
 Well — whilst we sat in the dilemma which I have just described, each 
 one was hastily preparing his weapons for defence, when I proposed the 
 mode of attack ; by which means 1 was in hopes to destroy her — capture her 
 young ones, and bring her skin home as a trophy. My plans, however, 
 entirely failed, though we were well armed ; for Bogard av.'^ Ba'tiste both 
 remonstrated with a vehemence that was irresistible; saying tha, the standing 
 rule in the mountains was " never to fight Caleb, except ir self-defence." 
 I was almost induced, however, to attack her alone, with my rifle in hand, and 
 a pair of heavy pistols ; with a tomahawk and scalping-knife in my belt ; 
 when Ba'tiste suddenly thrust his arm over my shoulder and pointing in 
 another direction, exclaimed in an emphatic tone, " Voila ! voila un corps 
 de reserve — Monsr. Cataline — voila sa mari ! allons — allons ! descendons la 
 riviere, toute de suite ! toute de suite ! Monsr." to which Bogard added, 
 " these darned animals are too much for us, and we had better be off;" at 
 which my courage cooled, and we packed up and re-embarked as fast as 
 
,1 
 
 
 ;i! 
 
 I 
 
 72 
 
 possible; giving each one of tliem the contents of our iifles as we drifted 
 oft" in the current ; which brought the she-monster, in al! her rage and fury, 
 to the spot where we, a few moments before, had passed our most prudent 
 resolve. 
 
 During the rest of this day, we passed on rapidly, gazing upon and ad- 
 miring the beautiful shores, which were continually changing, from the high 
 and ragged cliffs, lO the graceful and green slopes of the prairie bluffs ; and 
 then to the wide expanded meadows, with their long vaving grass, enamel- 
 led with myriads of wild flowers. 
 
 The scene was one of enchantment the whole way ; our chief conver- 
 sation was about grizzly bears and hair's-bieadth escapes ; of the histories 
 of which my companions had volumes in store. — Our breakfast was a late 
 one — cooked and eaten about five in the afternoon ; at which time our 
 demolished larder was luckily replenished by the unerring rifle of Bogard, 
 which brought down a fine antelope, as it was innocently gazing at us, 
 from the bank of the river. We landed our boat, and took in our prize ; 
 but there being no wood for our fire, we shoved off, and soon ran upon the 
 head of an island, that was covered with immense quantities of raft and 
 drift wood, where we easily kindled a huge fire and ate our delicious meal 
 from a clean peeled log, astride of which we comfortably sat, making it 
 answer admirably the double purpose of chairs and a table. After our 
 meal was finished, we plied the paddles, and proceeded several miles further 
 on our course ; leaving our fire burning, and dragging our canoe upon the 
 shore, in the dark, in a wild and unknown spot ; and silently spreading our 
 robes for our slumbeis, which it is not generally considered prudent to do by 
 the side of our fires, which might lead a war-party upon us, who often are 
 prowling about and seeking an advantage over their enemy. 
 
 The scenery of this day's travel, as I have before h^id, was exceedingly 
 beautiful ; and our canoe was often run to the shore, upon wh"i.ii we stepped 
 to admire the endless variety of wild flowers, " wasting their sweetness on 
 the desert air," and the abundance of delicious fruits that were about us. 
 Whilst wandering through tlie )'igh grass, the wild sun-flowers and volup- 
 tuous lilies were constantly taunting us by striking our faces; whilst here 
 and there, in c :ry direction, there v/ere little copses and clusters of pium 
 trees and gooseberries, and wild currants, loaded down with tiieir fruit ; and 
 amongst these, to sweeten the atmosphere and add a charm to the effect, 
 the wild rose bushes seemed planted in beds and in hedges, and everywhere 
 were decked out in all the glory of their delicate tints, and shedding sweet 
 aroma to every breath of the air that passed over them. 
 
 In addition to these, we had the luxury of service-berries, without stint ; 
 and the buffalo bushes, which are peculiar to these northern regions, lined the 
 banks of the river and defiles in the bluffs, sometimes for mile? together; form- 
 ing almost impassable hedges, so loaded with the weight ot their fruit, that their 
 boughs were everywhere gracefully bending down and resting on the ground. 
 
73 
 
 This last shrub {sheppprdia), which may be said to be the most beautiful 
 ornament that decks out the wild prairies, forms a striking contrast to the 
 rest of the foliage, f'-om the blue appearance of its leaves, by which it can 
 be distinguished for miles in distance. The fruit which it produces in such 
 incredible profusion, hanging in clusters to every limb and to every twig, is 
 about the size of ordinary currants, and not unlike them in colour and even 
 in flavour; being exceedingly acid, and almost unpalatable, until they are 
 bitten by the frost of autumn, when they are sweetened, and their flavour 
 delicious ; having, to the taste, much the character of grapeSj and I am 
 inclined lo t'link, would produce excellent wine. 
 
 The shrub which bears them resembles some varieties of the thorn, though 
 (as I tiave said) differs entirely in the colour of its leaves. It generally 
 grows to the height of six or seven feet, and often to ten or twelve ; and in 
 groves or hedges, in some places, for miles in extent. While gathering the 
 fruit, and contemplating it as capable of producing good wine, 1 asked my 
 men this question, " Suppose we three .'ad ascended the river to this point 
 in the spring of the year, and in a timbered bottom had pitched our little 
 encampment ; and one of you iwo had been a boat-builder, and the other a 
 cooper — the one to have got out your staves and constructed the wine casks, 
 and the other to have built a mackinaw-boat, capable of carrying fifty or a 
 hundred casks ; and I had been a good hunter, capable of supplying the 
 little encampment with meat ; and we should have started off about this 
 time, to float down the current, stopping our boat wherever we saw the 
 finest groves of the buffalo bush, collecting the berries and expressing the 
 juice, and putting it into our casks for fermentation while on the water for 
 two thousand miles ; how many bushels of these berries could you two 
 gather in a day, provided I watched the boat and cooked your meals ? and 
 how many barrels of good wine do you think we could offer for sale in St. 
 Louis when we should arri' e there ?" 
 
 This idea startled my two men exceedingly, and Ba'tiste gabbled so fast 
 in French, that I could not translate ; and I am almost willing to believe, 
 that but for the want of the requisite tools for the enterprize, I should have 
 lost the company of Bogard and Ba'tiste ; or that I should have been under 
 the necessity of submitting to one of the unpleasant alternatives which are 
 often regulated by the majority, in this strange and singular wilderness. 
 
 I at length, however, got their opinions on the subject; when they mutually 
 agreed that they could gather thirty bushels of this fruit per day ; and I 
 gave it then, and I offer it now, as my own also, that their estimate was not 
 out of the way, and judged so from the experiments which we made in the 
 following manner : — We several times took a large mackinaw blanket which 
 I had in the canoe, and spreading it on the ground ur.ler the bushes, where 
 they were the most abundantly loaded with fruit ; and by striking the stalk 
 of the tree with a club, we received the whole contents of its branches in an 
 instant on the blanket, which was taken up by the corneis, and r»ot un- 
 VOL. t. I. 
 
If 
 
 
 111 
 
 . 
 
 i f 
 
 
 ; ;'. 
 
 
 : i 
 
 
 ',; 
 
 I' I 'J 
 
 4 ■ 
 
 Hi \ 
 
 Ki M i; 
 
 74 
 
 frequently would produce us, from one blow, the eighth part of a bushel of 
 this fruit; when the boughs relieved of tlieir burden, instantly flew up to 
 their native position. 
 
 Of this beautiful native, which I think would form one of the loveliest 
 ornamental shrubs for a gentleman's park or pleasure grounds, I procu ed a 
 number of the roots ; but which, from the many accidents and incidents that 
 our unlucky bark was subjected to on our rough passage, I lost them (and 
 almost the recollection of them) as well as many other curiosities I had col- 
 lected on our way down the river. 
 
 On the morning of the next day, and not long after we had stopped and 
 taken our breakfast, and while our canoe was swiftly gliding along under the 
 shore of a beautiful prairie, I saw in the grass, on the bank above me, what 
 I supposed to be the back of a fine elk, busy at his grazing. I let our craft 
 float silently by for a little distance, when I communicated the intelligence 
 to my men, and slily ran in, to the shore. I pricked the priming of my fire- 
 lock, and taking a bullet or two in my mouth, stepped ashore, and trailing 
 my rifle in my hand, went back under the bank, carefully crawling up in a 
 little ravine, quite sure of my game ; when, to my utter surprise and violent 
 alarm, I found the elk to be no more nor less than an Indian pony, getting 
 his breakfast ! and a little beyond him, a number of others grazing ; and 
 nearer to me, on the left, a war-party reclining around a little fire ; and yet 
 nearer, and within twenty paces of the muzzle of my gun, the naked shoulders 
 of a brawny Indian, who seemed busily engaged in cleaning his gun. From 
 this critical dilemma, the reader can easily imagine that I vanished with all 
 the suddenness and secrecy that was possible, bending my course towards my 
 canoe. Bogard and Ba'tiste correctly construing the expression of my face, 
 and the agitation of my hurried retreat, prematurely unmoored from tho 
 shore ; and the force of the current carrying them around a huge pile of 
 drift wood, threvr me back for some distance upon my own resources ; though 
 they finally got in, near the shore, and I into the boat, v>!lh the steering oar 
 in my hand ; when we plied our sinews with effect and in silence, till we 
 were wafted far from the ground which we deemed critical and dangerous 
 to our lives ; for we had been daily in dread of meeting a war-party of the 
 revengeful Riccarces, which we had been told was on the river, in search of 
 the Mandans. From and after this exciting o.currence, the entries in my 
 journal for the rest of the voyage to the village of the Man.'ans, were as 
 follow : — 
 
 Saturday, fifth day of our voyage from the rnouth of Yellow Stone, at 
 eleven o'clock. — Lauded our canoe in the Grand Detour (or Big Bend) as it 
 is called, at the base of a stately clay mound, and ascended, all hands, to 
 the summit level, to take a glance at the picturesque and magnificent worlvs 
 of Nature that were about us. Spent the remainder of the day in painting 
 a view of this grand scene ; for which purpose Ba'tiste and Bogard carried 
 my easel and canvass to the top of a huge mound, where they left me at my 
 
JVC me, wliat 
 
 work; and 1 painted my picture (plate 39), whilst tliey amused themselves 
 with tlicir rifles, decoying a Hock of antelopes, of whicli they killed several, 
 and abundantly added to the stock of our provisions. 
 
 Scarcely anything in nature can be found, I am sure, more exc ^dingly 
 picturesque than the view from this place ; exhibiting the wonderful manner 
 in which the gorges of the river have cut out its deep channel through these 
 walls of clay on either side, of two or three hundred feet in elevation ; and 
 the imposing features of the high table-lands in distance, standing as a per- 
 petual anomaly in the country, and producing the indisputable, though 
 astounding evidence of the fact, that there has been at some ancient period, 
 a super surface to this country, corresponding with the elevation of these 
 tabular hills, wliosc surface, for half a mile or more, on thair tops, is perfectly 
 level ; being covered with a green turf, and yet one hundred and fifty or two 
 hundred feet elevated above what may now be properly termed tlie summit 
 level of all this section of country ; as will be seen stretching off at their 
 base, without furnishing other instances in hundreds of miles, of anything 
 rising one foot above its surface, excepting the solitary group which is shewn 
 in the painting 
 
 The fact, that there was once tiie summit level of this great valley, is a 
 stubborn one, however difficult it may be to reconcile it with reasonable 
 causes and results ; and the mind of feeble man is at once almost paralyzed 
 in endeavouring to comprehend the process by which the adjacent country, 
 from tills to the base of the Rocky Mountains, as well as in other directions, 
 could have been swept away ; and equally so, for knowledge of the place 
 where its mighty deposits have been carried, 
 
 I recollect to have seen on my way up the river, at the distance of six or 
 eight hundred miles below, a place called " the Squart Hills," and another 
 denominated " the Bijou Hills ;" which aic the only features on the river, 
 seeming to correspond with this strange remain, and which, on my way 
 down, I shall careiuiiy examine ; and not fail to add their testimonies (if I 
 am not mistaken in their character) to further speculations on this interest- 
 iiig feature of the geology of the great valley of the Missouri. Whilst my 
 men were yet engaged in their sporting excursions, I left my easel and 
 travelled to the base and summit of these tabular hills ; which, to rny great 
 surprise, I found to be several miles from the river, and a severe journey to 
 accomplish getting lack to our encampment at nightfall. 1 found by their 
 sides that they were evidently of an alluvial deposite, composed of a great 
 variety of horizontal layers of clays of different colours — of granitic sand and 
 pebbles (many of which furnished me beautiful specimens of agate, jasper 
 and carnelians), and here and there large fragments of pumice and cinders, 
 which gave, as instances above-mentioned, evidences of volcanic remains. 
 
 The mode by which Bogard and Ba'tiste had been entrapping the timid 
 and sagacious antelopes was one which is frequently and successfully prac- 
 tised in this country ; and on thisday had afforded them fine sport. 
 
Hi 
 
 76 
 
 The ant.elope ol tliis country, I bclie\e to bo difTerent from all otlier 
 known varieties, and forms one of the most pleasing, living ornaments to 
 this western world. They arc seen in some places in great numbers sporting 
 and playing about tlie hills and dales ; and often, in flocks of fifty or a 
 hundred, will follow the boat of the descending voyageur, or the travelling 
 caravan, for hours together ; keeping off at a safe distance, on the right or 
 left, galloping up and down the hills, sr.uffing their noses and stamping their 
 feet ; as if they were endeavouring to remind the traveller of the wicked 
 trespass he was making on their own hallowed ground. 
 
 This little animal seems to be endowed, like many other gentle and sweet- 
 breathing creatures, with an undue share of curiosity, which often leads 
 them to destruction ; and the hunter who wishes to entrap them, saves him- 
 self the trouble of travelling after tliem. When he has been discovered, he 
 has only to elevate above the tops of the grass, his red or yellow handker- 
 chief on the end of his gun-rod (plate 40), which he sticks in the ground, 
 and to which they are sure to advance, though with great coyness and 
 caution ; whilst he lies close, at a little distance, with his rifle in hand ; 
 when it is quite an easy matter to make sure of two or three at a shot, which 
 he gets in range of his eye, to be pierced with one bullet. 
 
 On Sunday, departed from our encampment in the Grand D6tour; and 
 having passed for many miles, tlirough a series of winding and ever-varying 
 bluffs and fancied ruins, like such as have already been described, our at- 
 tention was more than usually excited by the stupendous scene (plate 41), 
 called by the voyageurs " the Grand Dome," which was lying in full view 
 before us. 
 
 Our canoe was here hauled ashore, and a day whiled away again, amongst 
 these clay built ruins. 
 
 We clambered to their summits and enjoyed the distant view of the Mis- 
 souri for many miles below, wending its way through the countless groups 
 of clay and grass-covered hills ; and we wandered back on the plains, in a 
 toilsome and unsuccessful pursuit of a herd of buffaloes, which we discovered 
 at some distance. Though we were disappointed in the results of the chase ; 
 yet we were in a measure repaid in auiusemcnts, which we found in paying 
 a visit to an extensive village of prairie dogs, and of which I should render 
 some account 
 
 1 have subjoined a sketch (plate 42) of one of these sub-ierra commu- 
 nities ; though it was taken in a former excursion, when my party was on 
 horseback, and near the mouth of the Yellow Stone River ; yet it answers 
 for this place as well as any other, for their habits are one and the same 
 wherever they are found ; their houses or burrows are all alike, and as their 
 location is uniformly on a level and desolate prairie, without timber, there is 
 little room for variety or dissimilarity. 
 
 Tlie prairie dog of the American Prairies is undoubtedly a variety of the 
 Diurrrot ; and probably not unlike those which inhabit the vast Steppes of 
 
 X 
 
1 of the Mia- 
 ntlesa groups 
 ; plains, in a 
 ve discovered 
 of the chase ; 
 nd in paying 
 hould render 
 
 trra commu- 
 )arty was on 
 let it answers 
 Ud the same 
 and as their 
 per, there is 
 
 22 
 
 ^ 
 
 i: .-- 
 
 --_ i 
 
 ' ' ) 
 
 
 ^^1 — ■■ 
 
 fff^rmr-^ 
 
 
 jfS 
 
 .i'J 
 
 V 
 
 
 ^X- 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 
 - _ . .v\>V..\l . 
 
 M-^-K?- 
 
 
 -'i'H;;i>,^r.;?'"'-. ..■ 
 
 '^^^ .^^.mmm'mmmmiiz::':^:^^^^ 
 
 > 'I .J^*l' aiVi. •„v\Hf,H\''\>,i,. ' n\V ■' 
 
 (!'■■ I 
 
 ^ CalUiri 
 
 40 
 
1 1 
 
77 
 
 Asia. It hears no resemblance to any variety of doss, except in tlie sound 
 of its voice, wlien excited l)y tlic apprcacli of danger, whicii is soinetliinij 
 lil<c flial of a very small dog, and still much more resembling the burking 
 of a grey squirrel. 
 
 The size of tliese curious little animals is not far from that of n very large 
 rat, and they are not unlike in their appearance. As I have said, their 
 burrows, are uniformly built in a lonely desert ; and away, both from the 
 proximity of timber and water. Kach individual, or each Ainiily, dig (heir 
 liole in the prairie to the depth of ei^ht or ten feet, throwing up the dirt 
 from each excavation, in a litt!e pile, in the form of a cone, which forms the 
 only elevation for them to ascend ; where they sit, to bark and chatter when 
 an enemy is a[)proaching their village. These villages are sometimes ol 
 several miles in extent; containing (^I would almost say) myriads of their 
 excavations and little dirt hillocks, and to the cars of their visitors, the din 
 of their barkings is too confused and too peculiar to be described. 
 
 In the present instance, we made many endeavours to shoot them, but 
 finding our etlbrts to be entirely in vain. As wo were approaching tliem at a 
 distance, each one seemed to be perched up, on his hind feet, on his appro- 
 priate domicil, with a significant jerk of his tail at every bark, positively dis- 
 puting our right of approach. I made several attempts to get near enough 
 to " draw a bead " upon one of them ; and just before I was ready to fire (and 
 as if they know t!.'? utmost limits of their safety), they sprang down into their 
 holes, and insimcly turning their bodies, shewed their ears and the ends of 
 their noses, as they were peeping out at me ; which position they would 
 hold, until the shortness of the distance subjected their scalps to dajiger 
 again, from the aim of a rifle ; when they instantly disappeared from our 
 sight, and all was silence thereafter, about their premises, as I passed them 
 over; until I had so far advanced by them, that their ears were again dis- 
 covered, and at lengtli themselves, at full length, perched on tlie tops of 
 their little hillocks and threatening as before ; thus gradually sinking and 
 rising like a wave before and behind me. 
 
 The holes leading down to their burrows, are four or five inches in diameter, 
 and run down nearly perpendicular ; where they undoubtedly communicate 
 into something like a subte^.aneous city (as I have formerly learned from 
 fruitless endeavours to dig ihem out), undermined and vaulted; by which 
 means, they can travel for a great distance under the ground, without 
 danger from pursuit. 
 
 Their food is simply the grass in the immediate vicinity of their burrows, 
 which is cut close to the ground by their flat, shovel teeth ; and, as they 
 sometimes live twenty miles from any water, it is to be sup[)osed that they 
 get moisture enough from the dew on the grass, on which they feed chiefly 
 at night ; or that (as is generally supposed) they sink wells from their 
 under-ground habitations, by which they descend low enough to get their 
 supply. In the winter, tliey are for several months invisible ; existing, uu- 
 
7-^ 
 
 (luul)tG(lly, in n torpid ntatc, ns tlicy ccrtuinly lay by no food for that 
 season — nor can tlioy procure any. Those curious httlc animals Iw'long to 
 almost every latitude in the vast plains of prairie in North Ameriia ; and 
 their villages, which I have sometimes encountered in my travels, have 
 conipcllcd my party to ride several miles out of our way to get by them ; 
 for their burrows are generally within a few feet of each other, and danger- 
 ous to the feet and the limbs of our horses. 
 
 The sketch of the bluffs denominated " tlie Grand Dome," of which I 
 spoke but a few moments since, is a fa'thful delineation of the lines and 
 character of that wonderful scene ; and the reader has here a just and 
 striking illustration of the ruin-like appearances, as I have formerly described, 
 that arc so often met witii on the banks of this miglity river. 
 
 This is, perhaps, one of the most grand and beautiful scenes of the kind 
 to I net with in this country, owing to the perfect appearance of its several 
 huge domes, turrets, and towers, which were everywhere as precise and as 
 perfect in their forms as they are represented in the illustration. These 
 stupendous works are produced by the continual washing down of the sides 
 of these clay-formed hills ; and although, in many instances, their sides, by 
 exposure, have become so hardened, that their change is very slow ; yet 
 tliey are mostly subjected to continual phases, more or less, until ultimately 
 their decomposition ceases, and their sides becoming seeded and covered 
 with a green turf, which protects and holds them (and will hold them) unal- 
 terable : with carpets of green, and enamelled with flowers, to be gazed 
 upon with admiration, by the hardy vuyageur and the tourist, for ages and 
 centuries to come. 
 
 On Monday, the seventh day from the mouth of the Yellow Stone River, 
 we floated away from this noble scene ; looking back again and again upon 
 it, wondering at its curious and endless changes^ as the swift current of the 
 river, hurried us by, and gradually out of sighi it. We took a sort of 
 melancholy leave of it — but at every bend and turn in the stream, we were 
 introduced to others — and others — and yet ethers, almost as strange and 
 curious. At the base of one of these, although we had passed it, we with 
 difficulty landed our canoe, and I ascended to its top, with some hours' 
 labour; having to cut a foot-hold in the clay with my hatchet for each 
 step, a great part of the way up its sides. So curious was this solitary 
 bluff, standing alone as it did, to the height of 230 feet (plate 43), with its 
 sides washed down into hundreds of variegated forms — with large blocks of 
 indurated clay, remaining upon pedestals and columns as it were, and with 
 such a variety of tints ; that I looked upon it as a beautiful picture, and de- 
 voted an hour or two with my brush, in transferring it to my canvass. 
 
 In the after part of this day we passed another extraordinary scene, which 
 is denominated " the Three Domes" (plate 44), forming an exceedingly 
 pleasing group, though requiring no further description for the reader, who 
 is now sufficiently acquainted with these scenes to understand them. 
 
 H- i 
 
 \l 
 
!f3 
 
 30(1 for that 
 Is Ix^long to 
 ncricn ; and 
 ravels, liave 
 'A by them : 
 and dangcr- 
 
 of which I 
 le lines and 
 
 n just and 
 ly described, 
 
 I of the kind 
 of its several 
 icise and as 
 ion. Thcsft 
 of the sides 
 °ir sides, by 
 r slow ; yet 
 il ultimately 
 and covered 
 them) unal- 
 ;o be gazed 
 )r ages and 
 
 stone River, 
 
 again upon 
 
 rrent of the 
 
 c a sort of 
 
 m, we were 
 
 range and 
 
 it, we with 
 
 some hours' 
 
 t for each 
 
 solitary 
 
 3), with its 
 
 e blocks of 
 
 , and with 
 
 re, and de- 
 
 /ass. 
 
 ene, which 
 xceedingiy 
 eader, who 
 m. 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■a 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
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 On this day, just before night, we landed our little boat in front of the 
 Mandar. village •, and amongst the hundreds and thousands who flocked to- 
 wards the river to meet and to greet us, was Mr. Kipp, the agent of the 
 American Fur Company, who has charge of their Establishment at this place. 
 He kindly ordered my canoe to be taken care of, and my things to be carried 
 to liis quarters, which was at once done ; and I am at this time reaping the 
 benefits of his genuine politeness, and gathering the pleasures of his amusing 
 and interesting society. 
 
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 80 
 
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 LETTER— No. 11. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSCURJ. 
 
 I SAID that I was here in the midst of a strange people, which is literally 
 true ; and I find myself surrounded by subjects and scenes worthy the pens 
 of Irving or Cooper — of the poncils of Raphael or Hogarth ; rich in legends 
 and romances, which would require no aid of the imagination for a book or 
 a picture. 
 
 The Mandans (or See-pohs-kah-nu-mah-kah-kee, " people of the phea- 
 sants," as they call themselves), are perhaps one of the most ancient tribes o. 
 Indians in our country. Their origin, like that of all the other tribes is fronv 
 necessity, involved in mystery and obscurity. Their traditions and peculiarities 
 I shall casually recite in this or future ef sties ; which when understood, will 
 at once, I think, denominate them a pf^ .uliar and distinct race. They take 
 great pride in relating their trad'' • j, with regard to their origin; con- 
 tending that they were the Jirst people created on earth. Their existence in 
 these regions has not been from a very ancient period ; and, from what 
 1 could learn of their traditions, they have, at a former period, been a 
 very numerous and powerful nation ; but by the contmuai wars wnicn navo 
 .'tisted between them and their neighbours, they have been reduced to their 
 present numbers- 
 
 This tribe is at present located on the west bank of the Missouri, about 
 1800 miles above St. Louis, and 200 below the Mouth of Yellow Stone 
 river. They have two villages only, which are about two miles distant from 
 each other; and number in all (as near as I can learn), about 2000 souls. 
 Their present villages are beautifully located, and judiciously also, for de- 
 fence against the assaults of their enemies. The site of the lower (or prin- 
 cipal) town, in particular (plate 45), is one of the most beautiful and 
 pleasing that can be seen in the world, and even more beautiful than 
 imagination could ever create. In the very midst of an extensive valley 
 (embraced within a thousand graceful swells and parapets or mounds of 
 interminable green, changing to blue, as they vanish in distance) is buii. 
 the city, or principal town of the Mandans. On an extensive plain (which 
 is covered with a green turf, as well as the hills and dales, as far as the eye 
 can possibly range, without tree or bush to be seen) are to be seen rising 
 from the ground, and towards the heavens, domes — (not " of gold," but) 
 
ch is literally 
 rthy the pens 
 :^h in legends 
 for a book or 
 
 of the phea- 
 cient tribes o. 
 tribes is from 
 I peculiarities 
 ierstood, will 
 , They take 
 [origin ; con- 
 existence in 
 from what 
 od, been a 
 wnicn na\ru 
 uced to their 
 
 isouri, about 
 ellow Stone 
 distant from 
 2000 souls, 
 also, for de- 
 ^er (or prin- 
 eauliful and 
 lutiful than 
 nsive valley 
 
 mounds of 
 nee) is buii. 
 
 ain (which 
 r as the eye 
 
 seen rising 
 gold," but) 
 
1 i i 
 
 ■' 1; 
 
 
81 
 
 of dirt — and tlie thousand spears (not " spires") and scalp-poles, &c. &c., of 
 the semi-subterraneous village of the hospitable and gentlemanly Manduiis. 
 
 These people formerly (and within the recollection of many of their oldest 
 men) lived fifteen or twenty miles farther down the river, in ten contiguous 
 villages ; the marks or ruins of which are yet plainly to be seen. At that 
 period, it is evident, as well from the number of lodges which their villages 
 contained, as from their traditions, that their numbers were much greater 
 than at the present day. 
 
 There are other, and very interesting, traditions and historical facts rela- 
 tive to a still prior location and condition of these people, ot which I shall 
 speak more fully on a future occasion. From these, when they are pro- 
 mulged, I think there may be a pretty fair deduction drawn, that they formerly 
 occupied the lower part of the Missouri, and even the Ohio and Muskingum, 
 and have gradually made their way up the Missouri to where they now are. 
 
 There are many remains on the river below this place (and, in fact, to be 
 seen nearly as low down as St. Louis), which shew clearly the peculiar 
 construction of Mandan lodges, and consequently carry a strong proof of 
 the above position. While descending the river, however, which I shall 
 commence in a few weeks, in a canoe, this will be a subject of interest ; and 
 I shall give it close examination. 
 
 The ground on which the Mandan village is at present built, was admi- 
 rably selected for defence ; being on a bank forty or fifty feet above the 
 bed of the river. The greater part of this bank is nearly perpendicular, and 
 of solid rock. The rivei, "uddenly changing its course to a right-angle, 
 protects two sides of the village, which is built upon this promontory or 
 angle ; they have therefore but one side to protect, which is effectually 
 done by a strong piquet, and a ditch inside of it, of three or four feet in 
 depth. The piquet is composed of timbers of a foot or more in diameter, 
 and eighteen feet high, set firmly in the ground at sufficient distances from 
 each other to admit of guns and other missiles to be fired between them. 
 The ditch (unlike that of civilized modes of fortification) is inside of the 
 piquet, in which their warriors screen their bodies from the view and weapons 
 of their enemies, whilst they are reloading and discharging their weapons 
 through the piquets. 
 
 The Mandans are undcbtedly secure in their villages, from the attacks of 
 any Indian nation, and have nothing to fear, except when they meet their 
 enemy on the prairie. Their village has a most novel appearance to the eye 
 of a stranger; their lodges are closely grouped together, leaving but just 
 room enough for walking and riding between them ; and appear from without, 
 to be built entirely of dirt; but one Is surprised when he enters them, to see 
 the neatness, comfort, and spacious dimensions of these earth-covered 
 dwellings. They all have a circular form, and are from forty to sixty feet 
 in diameter. Their foandations are prepared by digging some two feet in 
 the ground, an*! forming the floor of earth, by levelling the requisite size for 
 
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 the loilgc. These floors oi' foundaiions are all perfectly circular, and vai'ving 
 ill size ill proportion to the number of inmates, or of the quality or staniing 
 of the families which are to occupy them. The superstructure is then pro- 
 duced, by arranging, inside of this circular excavation, firmly fixed in the 
 ground and resting against the bank, a barrier or wall of timbers, some eight 
 or nine inches in diameter, of equal height (about six feet) placed on end, and 
 resting against each other, supported by a formidable embankment of eartii 
 raised against them outside ; then, resting upon the tops of these timbers or 
 piles, rui others of equal size and equal in numbers, of twenty or twenty- 
 five feet in length, resting firndy against each other, and sending their 
 upper or smaller ends towards the centre and top of the lodge ; rising at an 
 angle of forty-five degrees to the apex or sky-light, which is about three or 
 four feet in diameter, answering as a chimney and a sky-light at the same 
 time. The roof of the lodge being thus formed, is supported by beams 
 passing around the inner part of the lodge about the middle of these poles 
 or timbers, and themselves upheld by four or five large posts passing down 
 to the floor of the lodge. On the top of, and over the polos forming the 
 I'oof, is placed a complete n.at of willow-boughs, of lialf a foot or more in 
 thickness, which protects the timbers from the dampness of the earth, with 
 which the lodge is covered from bottom to top, to tlie depth of two or three 
 feet; and then with a hard or tough clay, which is impervious to water, and 
 which with long use becomes quite hard, and a lounging place for the whole 
 family in pleasant weather — for sage— for wooing lovers — for dogs and all ; an 
 airing place — a look-out — a place for gossip and mirth — a seat for the solitary 
 gaze and meditations of the stern warrior, who sits and contemplates the 
 peaceful mirth and happiness that is breathed beneath him, fruits of his 
 hard-fought battles, on fields of desperate combat with bristling Red Men. 
 
 The floors of these dwellings are of earth, but so hardened by use, and 
 swept so clean, and tracked by bare and moccassined feet, that they have 
 almost a polish, and would scarcely soil the whitest linen. In the centre, 
 and immediately under the sky-light (plate 46) is the fire-place — a hole of 
 four or five feet in diameter, of a circular form, sunk a foot or more below 
 the surface, and curbed around with stone. Over the fire-place, and sus- 
 pended from the apex of diverging props or poles, is generally seen the 
 pot or kettle, filled "ith buffalo meat; and aroi ad it are the family, reclining 
 in all the most picturesque attitudes and groups, resting on their buffalo-robes 
 and beautiful mats of rushes. These cabins are so spacious, that they hold 
 from twenty to forty persons — a family and all their connexions. They all 
 sleep on bedsteads similar in form to ours, but generally not quite so high ; 
 made of round poles rudely lashed together with thongs. A buffalo 
 skin, fresh stripped from the auimal, is stretched across the bottom poles, 
 and about two feet from the floor; which, when it dries, becomes much con- 
 tracted, and forms a perfect sacking-bottom. The fur side of this skin is 
 placed uppermost, on which they lie with great comfort, with a buffalo-robe 
 
 ¥n 
 
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0» 
 
 fulJcil ii|) for a pillow, and otliers drawn over them instead of blankets. 
 These beds, as fur as I have seen them (and I have visited almost every 
 lodge in the village), are uniformly screened with a covering of buffalo or 
 elk skins, oftentimes beautifully dressed and placed over the upright poles 
 or frame, like a suit of curtains; leaving a hole in front, sufficiently spacious 
 lor the occupant to pass in and out, to and from his or her bed. Some 
 of these coverings or curtains are exceedingly beautiful, being out tastefully 
 into fringe, and handsomely ornamented with porcupine's quills and picture 
 writings or hieroglyphics. 
 
 From the great number of inmates in these lodges, they are necessarily 
 very spacious, and the number of beds considerable. It is no uncommon 
 thing to see these lodges fifty feet in diameter inside (which is an immense 
 room), with a row of these curtained beds extending quite around their sides, 
 being some ten or twelve of them, placed four or five feet apart, and the 
 space between them occupied by a large post, fixed quite firm in the ground, 
 and six or seven feet high, with large wooden pegs or bolts in it, on which 
 are hung and grouped, with a wild and startling taste, the arms and armour 
 of the respective proprietor; consisting of his whitened shield, embossed and 
 emblazoned with the figure of his protecting medicine (or mystcjy), his bow 
 a.ul quiver, his war-club or battle-axe, his dart or javelin — his tobacco 
 pouch and pipe — his medicine-bag — and his eagle — ermine or raven head- 
 dress ; and over all, and on the top of the post (as if placed by some conju- 
 ror or Indian magician, to guard and protect the spell of wildness that 
 reigns in this strange place), stands forth and in full re'.ief the head and 
 horns of a buffalo, which is, by a v'Magc regulation^ owped and possessed 
 by every man in the nation, and hung at the head of hi-: bed, which he uses 
 as a mask when called upon by the chiefs, to join ia the bufTalo-dance, 
 of wliich I shall say more in a future epistle 
 
 This arrangement of beds, of arms, &c., combining the most v'vid display 
 and arrangement of colours, of furs, of trinkets — of baibccl and giisLening 
 points and steel — of mysteries and hocus pocus, togcthc;' with the sombre 
 and smoked colour of the roof and sides of tiie lodge; and the wild, and 
 rude and red — the graceful (though uncivil) conversational, garrulous, story- 
 telling and happy, though ignorant and untutored groups, that are smoking 
 their pipes — wooing their sweethearts, and embn g their little ones about 
 their peaceful and endeared fire-sides ; together with their pots and kettles, 
 spoons, and other culinary articles of their own manufacture, around 
 them ; present altogether, one of the most picturesque scenes to the eye of a 
 stranger, that can be possibly seen ; and far more w'ld and vivid than could 
 ever be imagined. 
 
 Reader, I said these people were garrulous, story-telling and happy ; this 
 is true, and literally so ; and it belongs to me to establish the fact, and 
 correct the error which seems to have gone forth to the world on this subject. 
 
 A% I have before observed, there is no subject that 1 !<now of within the 
 
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 ■I- ' 
 
 ■I 
 
 ; 
 
 84 
 
 scope and reach of liiiman wisdom, on wliicli the civilized world in this en- 
 lightened age are more incorrectly informed, than upon that of the true man- 
 ners and customs, and moral condition, rights and abuses, of the North 
 American Indians; and that, as I have also before remarked, chiefly on account 
 of the difficulty of our cultivating a fair and honourable acquaintance with 
 them, and doing them the justice, and ourselves the credit, of a fair and 
 impartial investigation of their true character. The present age of refine- 
 ment and research has brought every thing else that I know of (and a vast 
 deal more than ihe most enthusiastic mind ever dreamed of) within the scope 
 and fair estimation of refined intellect and of science ; while the wild and 
 timid savage, with his interesting customs and modes has vanished, or hi» 
 character has become cliangcd, at the approach of the enlightened and 
 intellectual world ; who follow him like a phantom for awhile, and in igno- 
 rance of his true character at last turn back to the common business and 
 social transactions of life. 
 
 Owing to 'he above difficulties, which liave stood in the way, the world 
 have fallen into many egregious errors with regard to the true modes and 
 meaning of tlic savage, which I am striving to set forth and correct in tlie 
 course of these epistles. And amongst them all, there is none more common, 
 nor more entirely erroneous, nor more easily refuted, than the current one, 
 that " the Indian is a sour, morose, reserved and taciturn man." I have 
 heard this opinion advanced a thousand times and I believed it ; but such 
 certainly, is not uniformly nor generally the case. 
 
 I have observed in all my travels amongst the Indian tribes, and mora 
 particularly amongst these unassuming people, that they are a far more 
 talkative and conversational race than can easily be seen in the civili/cd 
 world. This assertion, like many others I shall occasionally make, w ill some- 
 what startle the folks at the East, yet it is true. No one can look into the 
 wigwams of these people, or into any little momentary group of them, without 
 being at once struck with the conviction that small-talk, gossip, garrulity, and 
 story-telling, are the leading passions with thorn, who liave little else to do in 
 the world, but to while away their lives in the innocent and endless amusement 
 of the exercise of those talents with which Nature has liberally endowed them, 
 for their mirth and enjoyment. 
 
 One has but to walk or ride about this little town and its environs for a few 
 hours in a pleasant day, and overlook the numerous games and gambols, 
 where their notes and yelps of exultation are unceasingly vibrating in the 
 atmosphere; or peep into their wigwams (and watch the glistening fui; 
 that's beaming from the noses, cheeks and chins, of the crouching, cross- 
 legged, and prostrate groups around the fire ; where the pipe is passed, 
 and jokes and anecdote, and laughter arc excessive) to become convinced 
 that it is natural to laugh and be merry. Indeed it would be strange if 
 a race of people like these, who have little else to do or relish in life, 
 Bliould be curtailed in that source of pleasure and amusement ; and it 
 
 ' 
 
b6 
 
 would be also strani^c, if a life-time of indulgence and practice in fo 
 innocent and productive a mode of amusement, free from the cares and 
 anxieties of business or professions, should not advance them in ilieir modes, 
 .ind enable them to draw far greater pleasure from such sources, than we in 
 the civilized and business world can possibly feci. If tho uncultivated 
 condition of their minds curtails the number of their enjoyments; yet they are 
 free from, and independent of, a thousand cares and jealousies, which arise 
 fro-.n mercenary motives ax the civilized world; and are yet far a-hcad of us 
 (in my opinion) in the real and uninterrupted enjoyment of their simple 
 naf"..tl faculties. 
 
 They live in a country and in communities, where it is not customary to 
 look forward into the future with concern, for they live without incurring the 
 expenses of life, which are absolutely necessary and unavoidable in the en- 
 lightened world ; and of course their inclinations and faculties are solely 
 directed to the erioyment of the present day, without the sober reflections 
 on the past or appreiiensions of the future. 
 
 With minds thus unexpanded and uninfluenced by the thousand passions 
 and ambitions of civilized life, it is easy and natural to concentrate their 
 thoughts and their conversation upon the little and trifling occurrences of 
 their lives. They l"«^ fond of fun and good cheer, and can laugh cosily and 
 heartily at a slight joke, f which their peculiar modes of life furnish them an 
 inexhaustible fund, and enable them to cheer their little circle about the 
 wigwam fire-side with endless laughter and garrulity. 
 
 It may be thought, that I am taking a great deal of pains to establish 
 this fact, and I am dwelling longer upon it than I otherwise should, inasmuch 
 as I am opposing an error that seems to have become current through the 
 world; and which, if it be once corrected, removes a material difficulty, 
 which has always stood in the way of a fair and just estimation of the 
 Indian character. For the purpose of placing the Indian in a proper light 
 before the world, as I hope to do in many respects, it is of importance to 
 me — it is but justice to the savage — and justice to my readers also, that 
 such points should be cleared up as I proceed ; and for the world who 
 enquire for correct and just information, they must take my words for the 
 truth, or else come to this country and look for themselves, into these gro- 
 tesque circles of never-ending laughter and fun, instead of going to Wash- 
 ington City to gaze on the poor embarrasst I Indian who i:. called there by 
 his " Great Father," to contend with the sophistry of the learned and 
 acquisitive world, in bartering away his lands with the graves and the 
 hunting grounds of his ancestors. There is not the proper place to study 
 the Indian character ; yet it is the place where the sycophant and the 
 scribbler go to gaze and frown upon him — to learn his character, and write 
 his history ! and because he does not speak, and quaffs the delicious beverage 
 which he receives from white mens* hands, "he's a speechless brute and a 
 drunkard." An Indian is a beggar in Washington City, and a white man is 
 
ft I 
 
 M 
 
 almost C(iually so in tlie Mandan villatje. An Indian in WaHliin^ton ih mntc, 
 IS dumb and cndmriassed ; and so is a wliite man (and for llie very same 
 reasons) intiiis place — lie lias nobody to talk to. 
 
 A wild Indian, to reach the civili/cd world, must needs travel some thou- 
 sands of miles in vehicles of conveyance, to which he is unaccustomed — 
 through latitudes and lon^jjitudes which arc new to him — living on foo<l thiit 
 he is unused to — stared and ya/cd at by the thousands and tens of thou- 
 sands whom he cannot talk to — his heart grieving and his body sickcnint; 
 at the exhibition of white men's wealth and luxuries, which are enjoyed on 
 tlie land, and over the bones of his ancestors. Ami at the end of hi? 
 journey he stands (like a ca;j;ed animal) to be scanned — to be criticised — to 
 be pitied — and heralded to the world as a tnute — as a brute, and a 
 be|j;gar. 
 
 A white man, to reach this village, must travel by steam-boat — by canoes — 
 on horseback and on foot; swim rivers — wade quagmires — fight mos- 
 quitoes — patch his moccasins, and patch them again and again, and his 
 breeches ; live on meat alone — sleep on the ground the whole way, and 
 think and dream of his friends he has left behind ; and when he gets here, 
 half-starved, and lialf-nnked, and more than half sick, he finds himself a 
 beggar for a place to sleep, and for something to cat ; a mute amongst thou- 
 sands who flock about him, to look and to criticise, and to laugh at him for 
 his jaded appearance, and to speak of him as they do of all white men 
 (without distinction) as liars. These people are in the habit of seeing no 
 white men in their country but Traders, and know of no other; deeming us 
 all alike, and receiving us all under the presumption that we come to trade 
 or barter ; applying to us all, indiscriminately, the epithet of " liars" or 
 Traders. 
 
 The reader will therefore see, that we mutually suffer in each other's esti- 
 mation from the unfortunate ignorance, which distance has chained us in ; 
 and (as I can vouch, and the Indian also, who has visited the civilized 
 world) that the historian who would record justly and correctly the charac- 
 ter ; rjd customs of a people, must go and live among them. 
 
 M 
 
 f, 
 
LETTEU— No. 12. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPFM'.R !\IISHOUR[. 
 
 In my last, I K^ve some account of llio village, and the customs, and 
 .ippcaranccs of this strange people, — and I will now proceed to give furtlier 
 details on that subject. 
 
 I have this mornin'^, perched myself upon the top of one of the earth- 
 covered lodafcs, which I have before described, and having the whole village 
 beneath and about me (plate 47\ with its sachems — its warriors — its dogs 
 —and its horses in motion — it- medicines (or mysteries) and scalp-poles 
 waving over my head — its piquets — its green fields and prairies, and river in 
 full view, with the din and bustle of the thrilling panorama that is about me. 
 J shall be able, I hope, to give some sketches more to the life than I could 
 have done from any effort of recollection. 
 
 I said that the lodges or wigwams were covered with earth— were of 
 forty or sixty feet in diameter, and so closely grouped ;hat there was but jus', 
 room enough to walk and ride between them, — that they had a door by which 
 to enter them, and a hole in the top for the admission of light, and for the 
 smoke to escape, — that the inmates were at times grouped upon their tops 
 ill conversations and other ainuser.ients, &c. ; and yet you know not exactly 
 how they look, nor what is the precise appearance of the strange world that 
 is about me. There is really a newness and rudeness in every thing that 
 is to be seen. There arc several hundred houses or dwellings about me, and 
 tliey are purely unique — they are all covered with dirt — the people are all 
 red, and yet distinct from all other red folks I have seen. The horses are 
 wild — every dog is a wolf — the whole moving mass are strangers to me : 
 the living, in everything, carry an air of intractable wildness about them, 
 and the dead are not buried, but dried upon scaffolds. 
 
 The groups of lodges around me present a very curious and pleasing ap- 
 pearance, resembling in shape (more nearly than anything else I can com- 
 pare them to) so many potash-kettles inverted. On the tops of these are to 
 be seen groups standing and recliniug, whose wild and picturesque appear- 
 ance it would be difficult to describe. Stern warriors, like statues, standing 
 in dignified groups, wrapped in their painted robes, with their heads decked 
 and plumed with quills of the war-eagle ; extending their long arms to 
 
88 
 
 the east or the west, the scenes of their battles, which they are recounting 
 over to each other. In another direction, the wooing lover, softening the 
 heart of his fair Taih-nah-tai-a with the notes of his simple lute. On other 
 lodges, and beyond ese, groups are engaged in games of the "moccasin," 
 or the "platter." Some are to be seen manufacturing robes and dresses, 
 and others, fatigued with amusements or occupations, have stretched their 
 limbs to f y the luxury of sleep, whilst basking in the sun. With all this 
 wild and •. nied medley of living benigs are mixed their dogs, which seem to 
 be so near an Indian's heart, as almost to constitute a material link of his 
 existence. 
 
 In the centre of the village is an open space, or public area, of 1 50 feet 
 in diameter, and circular in form, which is used for all public games and 
 festivals, shews fud exhibitions; and also for their "annual religious 
 ceremonies," whicii are soon to take place, and of which I shall hereafter 
 give some account. The lodges around this open space front in, with their 
 doors towards the centre ; and in the middle of this circle stands an object 
 of great religious veneration, as I am told, on account of the importance it 
 has in the conduction of those annual religious rites. 
 
 This object is in form of a large hogshead, some eight or ten feet high, 
 made of planks and hoops, containing within it soma of their choicest 
 medicines or mysteries, and religiously preserved unbacked or scratched, as 
 a symbol of the " Big Canoe," as they call it. 
 
 One of the lodges fronting on this circular area, and facing this strange 
 object of their superstition, is called the " Medicine Lodge," or council 
 house. It is in this sacred building that these wonderful ceremonies, in 
 commemoration of the flood, take place. I am told by the Traders that 
 the cruelties of these scenes are frightful and abhorrent in the extreme ; and 
 that this huge wigwam, which is now closed, has been built exclusively for 
 this grand celebration. I am every day reminded of the near approach of 
 the season for this strange affair, and as I have not yet seen any thing of it, 
 I cannot describe it; I know it only from the relations of the Traders who 
 have witnessed parts of it ; and their descriptions are of so extraordinary a 
 character, that I would no* be willing to describe until I can see for myself, 
 — which will, in all probability, be in a few days. 
 
 In ranging the eye over the village from where I am writing, there is 
 presented to the view the strangest mixture and medley of unintelligible 
 trash (independant of the living beings that are in motion), that can possibly 
 be imagined. On the roofs of the lodges, besides the groups of living, are 
 buffaloes' skulls, skin canoes, pots and pottery ; sleds and sledges — and 
 suspended on poles, erected some twenty feet above the doors of their wig- 
 wams, are disp'ayed in a pieasant day, the scalps ot warriors, preserved as 
 trophies ; and thus proudly exposed as evidence of their warlike deeds. In 
 other parts ara raised on poles the warriors' pure and whitened shields and 
 quivers, with medicine-bags attached ; and here and there a sacrifice of red 
 
26 
 
 are recounting 
 , softening the 
 lute. On other 
 the "moccasin," 
 bes and dresses, 
 5 stretched their 
 I. With all this 
 s, which seem to 
 terial link of his 
 
 irea, of 150 feet 
 iblic games and 
 annual religious 
 I shall hereafter 
 ont in, with their 
 stands an object 
 he importance it 
 
 or ten feet high, 
 •f their choicest 
 i or scratched, as 
 
 ping this strange 
 
 dge," or council 
 
 ceremonies, in 
 
 the Traders that 
 
 le extreme ; and 
 
 t exclusively for 
 
 lear approach ot 
 
 any thing of it, 
 
 the Traders who 
 
 D extraordinary a 
 
 a see for myself, 
 
 writing, there is 
 of unintelligible 
 that can possibly 
 )s of living, are 
 id sledges — and 
 )rs of their wig- 
 ors, preserved as 
 rlike deeds. In 
 ed shields and 
 sacrifice of red 
 
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89 
 
 cloth, or other costly stuff, offered up to the Great Spirit, over the door of 
 some benignant chief, in humble gratitude for the blessings which lie is 
 enjoying. Such is a part of the strange medley that is before and around 
 me ; and amidst them and the blue streams of smoke that are rising from 
 the tops of these hundred *' coal-pits," can be seen in distance, the green 
 and boundless, treeless, bushless prairie ; and on it, and contiguous to 
 the piquet which encloses the village, a hundred scaffolds, on which their 
 " dead live," as they term it. 
 
 These people never bury the dead, but place the bodies on slight scaffolds 
 just above the reach of human hands, and out of the way of wolves and 
 dogs ; and they are there left to moulder and decay. This cemetery, or 
 place of deposite for the dead, is just back of the village, on a level prairie 
 (plate 48) ; and with all its appearances, history, forms, ceremonies, &c. 
 is one of the strangest and most interesting objects to be described in the 
 vicinity of this peculiar race. 
 
 Whenever a person dies in the Mandan village, and the customary 
 honours and condolence are paid to his remains, and the body dressed in its 
 best attire, painted, oiled, feasted, and supplied with bow and quiver, shield, 
 pipe and tobacco^knife, flint and steel, and provisions enough to last him 
 a few days on the journey which he is to perform ; a fresh buffalo's skin, just 
 taken from the animal's back, is wrapped around the body, and tightly bound 
 and wound with thongs of raw hide from head to foot. Then other robes are 
 soaKed in water, till they are quite soft and elastic, which are also bandaged 
 around the body in the same manner, and tied fast with thongs, which are 
 wound with great care and exactness, so as to exclude the action of tlie air 
 from all parts of the body. 
 
 There is then a separate scaffold erected for it, constructed of four up- 
 right posts, a little higher than human hands can reach ; and on the tops of 
 these are small poles passing around from one post to the others ; across 
 which a number of willow-rods just strong enough to support the body, 
 which is laid upon them on its back, with its feet carefully presented towards 
 the rising sun. 
 
 There are a great number of these bodies resting exactly in a similar way ; 
 excepting in some instances where a chief, or medicine-man, may be seen 
 with a few yards of scarlet or blue cloth spread over his remains, as a mark 
 of public respect and esteem. Some hundreds of these bodies may be seen 
 reposing in this manner in this curious place, which the Indians call, " tlie 
 village of the dead ;" and the traveller, who visits this country to study and 
 learn, will not only be struck with the novel appearance of the scene ; but 
 if he will give attention to the respect and devotions that are paid to this 
 sacred place, he will draw many a moral deduction that will last liim 
 through life : he will learn, at least, that filial, conjugal, and paternal 
 affection are not necessarily the results of civilization ; but that the 
 Great Spirit has given them to man in his native state ; and that tho 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
90 
 
 spices and improvements of the enlightened world have never refined upon 
 them. 
 
 There is not a day in the year in which one may not see in this place 
 evidences of this fact, that will wring tears from his eyes, and kindle in his 
 bosom a spark of "espect and sympathy for the poor Indian, if he never felt 
 it before. Fathers, mothers, wives, and children, may be seen lying under 
 these scafTolds, prostrated upon the ground, with their faces in the dirt, 
 howling fortli incessantly the most piteous and hwdrt-broken cries and 
 lamentations for the misfortunes of their kindred ; tearirjg their hair — cut- 
 ting their flesh with their knives, and doing other penance to appease the 
 spirits of the dead, whose misfortunes they attribute to some sin or omission 
 of their own, for which they sometimes inflict the most excruciating self- 
 torture. 
 
 When the scaffolds on which the bodies rest, decay and fall to the ground, 
 the nearest relations having buried the rest of the bones, take the skulls, 
 which are perfectly bleached and purified, and place them in circles of an 
 hi'ndred or more on the prairie — piaced at equal distances apart (some 
 eight or nine inches from each other), with the faces all looking to the centre ; 
 where they are religiously protected and preserved in their precise positions 
 from year to year, as objects of religious and affectionate veneration 
 
 (PLATE 48). 
 
 There are several of these " Golgothas" or circles of twenty or thirty feet 
 in diameter, and in the centre of each ring or circle is a little mound of 
 t'uree feet high, on which uniformly rest two buffalo skulls (a male and 
 female) ; and in the centre of the little mound is erected a " medicine pole," 
 about twenty feet high, supporting many eurious articles of mystery and 
 superstition, which they suppose have the power of guarding and protecting 
 this sacred arrangement. Here then, to this strange place do these people 
 again rciort, to evince their further affections for the dead— not in groans and 
 lamentations however, for several years have cured the anguish ; but fond 
 i.itections and endearments are here renewed, and conversations are here 
 held and cherished with the dead. 
 
 Each ons of these skulls is placed upon a bunch of wild sage, which has 
 been pulled and placed under it. The wife knows (by some mark or re- 
 semblance) the skull of her husband or her child, which lies in this group ; 
 and there seldom passes a day that she does not visit it, with a dish of the 
 best cooked food that her wigwam affords, which she sets before the skull 
 at night, and returns for the dish in the morning. As soon as it is dis- 
 covered that the sage on which the skull rests is beginning to decay, the 
 woman cuts a fresh bunch, and places the skull carefully upon it, removing 
 that which was under it. 
 
 Independent of the above-named duties, which draw the women to this 
 spot, they visit it from inclination, and linger upon it to hold converse and 
 company with the dead. There is scarcely an hour in a pleasant day, but 
 
91 
 
 ver refined upon 
 
 lee in this place 
 md kindle in his 
 1, if he never felt 
 seen lying under 
 aces in the dirt, 
 arokeu cries and 
 ; their hair — cut- 
 :e to appease the 
 ne sin or omission 
 excruciating self- 
 fall to the ground, 
 s, take the skulls, 
 lem in circles of an 
 inces apart (some 
 king to the centre ; 
 ir precise positions 
 donate veneration 
 
 wenty or thirty feet 
 a little mound of 
 ikuUs (a male and 
 I '* medicine pole," 
 cles of mystery and 
 ling and protecting 
 •e do these people 
 - not in groans and 
 languish; but fond 
 versations are here 
 
 lid sage, which has 
 |y some mark or re- 
 llies in this group ; 
 \, with a dish of the 
 [ets before the skull 
 |s soon as it is dis- 
 ling to decay, the 
 upon it, removing 
 
 the women to this 
 I hold converse and 
 la pleasant day, but 
 
 more or less of these women may be seen sitting or laying by the skull of 
 their child or husband — talking to it in the mcit pleasant and endearing 
 language that they can use (as they were wont lo do in former days) and 
 seemingly getting an answer back. It is not unfrequently the case, that the 
 woman brings her needle-work with her, spending the greater part of the day, 
 sitting by the side of the skull of her child, chatting incessantly with ii, 
 while she is embroidering or garnishing a pair of moccasins ; and perhaps, 
 overcome with fatigue, falls asleep, with her arms encircled around it, 
 forgetting herself for hours ; after which she gathers up her things and 
 returns to the village. 
 
 There is something exceedingly interesting and impressive in these scenes, 
 which are so strikingly dissimilar, and yet within a few rods of each other ; 
 the one is the place where they pour forth the frantic anguish of their souls — 
 and afterwards pay their visits to the other, to jest and gossip with the 
 dead. 
 
 The great variety of shapes and characters exhibited in these groups of 
 crania, render them a very interesting study for the craniologist and phreno- 
 logist; but I apprehend that it would be a matter of great difficulty (if not 
 of impossibility) to procure them at this time, for the use and benefit of the 
 scientific world. 
 
i, i'l ^ 
 
 Hi 
 
 H2 
 
 LETTER— No. 13. 
 
 I I 
 
 ;((: 
 
 1 1: 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 In several of my former Letters I have given sketches of the viHage, and 
 some few of the customs of these peculiar people ; and I have many more 
 yet in store ; some of which will induce the readers to laugh, and others 
 almost dispose them to weep. But at present, I drop them, and introduce 
 a few of the wild and gentlemanly Mandans themselves ; and first, Ha-na- 
 tah-nu-mauh, the v.olf chief (plate 49). This man is head-chief of the 
 ration, and familiarly known by the name of " Chef de Loup," as the 
 French Traders call him ; a haughty, austere, and overbearing man, re- 
 spected and feared by his people rather than loved. The tenure by which 
 this man holds his office, is that by which the head-chiefs of most of the 
 tribes claim, that of inheritance. It is a general, though not an infallible 
 »ule amongst the numerous tribes of North-American Indians, tha': the office 
 of chief belongs to the eldest son of a chief; provided he shews himself, by 
 his conduct, to be equally worthy of it as any other in the natiuii ; making it 
 hereditary on a very proper condition — in default of which requisites, or 
 others which may happen, the office is elective. 
 
 The drfis of this chief was one of great extravagance, and some beauty ; 
 manufactured of skins, and a great number of quills of the raven, forming 
 his stylish head-dress. 
 
 The next and second chief of the tribe, is Mah-to-toh-pa (the four bears). 
 This extraordinary man, though second in office is undoubtedly the first and 
 most popular man in the nation. Free, generous, elegant and gentlemanly 
 in his deportment — handsome, brave and valiant ; wearing a robe on his 
 back, with the history of his battles emblazoned on it ; which would fill a 
 book of themselves, if properly translated. This, readers, is the most extra- 
 ordinary man, perhaps, who lives at this day, in the atmosphere of Nature's 
 noblemen ; and I shall certainly tell you more of him anon. 
 
 After him, there are Mah-tahp-ta-ha, he who rushes through the middle 
 (plate 50) ; Sechk-hee-da, the mouse-coloured feather (plate 51) ; Saa- 
 ja-ka-ko-kah (the deceiving wolf) ; Mah-to-he-ha (the old bear), and 
 others, distinguished as chiefs and warrior^ — and there are belles also; 
 such as Mi-neek-e-sunk-te-ca, the mink (plat^ 63) ; an i the little gray- 
 haired Sha-ko-ka, mint (plate 52) ; and fifty otL'^rs, wh»» are famous for 
 
 ; 
 
 If iJU. 
 

 he vilitige, and 
 ive many more 
 jh, and others 
 and introduce 
 1 first, Ha-na- 
 d-chief of tlie 
 Loup," as the 
 ring man, Te- 
 nure by which 
 •f r.iost of the 
 ot un infallible 
 tha*; the office 
 [ws 'limself, by 
 oil ; making it 
 1 requisites, or 
 
 some beauty ; 
 •aven, forming 
 
 le four bears). 
 y the first and 
 d gentlemanly 
 ci robe on his 
 ::h would fill a 
 le most extra- 
 re of Nature's 
 
 ;h the middle 
 TE 51); San- 
 1 bear), and 
 belles also; 
 le little gray- 
 re famous for 
 
« [ 
 
 I 
 
 '^'^'fiBH' 
 
if: 
 
 
 .OO 
 
 1 'S:- i';iV''i>*>J^^oj^-' "■ 
 
 '' CwUin 
 
93 
 
 (licir ronrpieats, not witli the bow or the javelin, but with their small bluck 
 eyes, which shoot out from under their unfledi^tcl brows, and pierce the 
 i)ol(lcst, fiercest chieftain to the heart. 
 
 The Mandans are certainly u very interesting and pleasing people in their 
 personal appearance and manners ; differing in many respects, both in 
 looks and customs, from all other tribes which I have seen. They are not 
 a warlike people ; for they seldom, if ever, carry war into their enemies' 
 country; but wlicn invaded, shew their valour and courage to be equal to 
 that of any people on earth. Being a small tribe, and unable to contend 
 on the wide prairies with the Sioux and other roaming tribes, who are ten 
 times more numerous ; they have very judiciously located tliemselvcs in a 
 permanent village, which is strongly fortified, and ensures their preservation. 
 13y this means they have advanced further in the arts of manufacture ; have 
 supplied their lodges more abundantly with the comforts, and even luxuries 
 of life, than any Indian nation I know of. The consequence of this is, that 
 tliis tribe have tikcn many steps ahead of other tribes in manners and 
 refinements (if I may be allowed to apply the word refinement to Indian 
 life); and are therefore familiarly (and correctly) denominated, by the 
 Traders and others, who have been amongst them, " the polite and friendly 
 Mandans." 
 
 There is certainly great justice in the remark ; and so forcibly have I 
 l)een struck with the peculiar ease and elegance of these people, together 
 with the diversity of complexions, the various colours of their hair and eyes ; 
 the singularity of their language, and their peculiar and unaccountable 
 customs, that I am fully convinced that they have sprung from some other 
 origin than that of the other North American tribes, or that they are an 
 amalgam of natives with some civilized race. 
 
 Here arises a question of very great interest and importance for dis- 
 cussion ; and, after further familiarity with their character, customs, and 
 traditions, if I forget it not, I will eventually give it further consideration. 
 Suffice it then, for the present, that their personal appearance alone, inde- 
 pondant of their modes and customs, pronounces ti'em at once, as more or 
 less, than savage. 
 
 A stranger in the Mandan village is first struck with the different shades 
 of complexion, and various colours of hair which he sees in a crowd about 
 him ; and is at once almost disposed to exclaim that " these are not 
 Indians." 
 
 There are a great many of these people whose complexions appear as light 
 as half breeds ; and amongst the women particularly, there are many whose 
 skins are almost white, with the most pleasing symmetry and proportion of 
 features; with hazel, with grey, and with blue eyes, — with mildness and 
 sweetness of expression, and excessive modesty of demeanour, which render 
 them exceedingly pleasing and beautiful. 
 
 Why this diversity of complexion I cannot tell, nor can they themsolves 
 
.) I' 
 
 nccuunt for it. Their trnditiohs, so tuf im 1 have yet learned tlioiii, ati'urd 
 us no iiiibrnmtion of their having liad any knowledj^e of white men before 
 the visit of Lewis and Clarke, made to their villa(;e thirty-three years aj^o 
 Since that time there have been but very few visits from white men to this 
 place, and surely not enough to have changed tlic complexions and the 
 customs of a nation. And I recollect perfectly well that Governor Clarke 
 told mc, before I started for this place, that I would Hnd the Mandans a 
 strange people and half white. 
 
 The diversity in the colour of hair is also equally as groat as that in the 
 complexion; for in a numerous group of these people (and more particularly 
 amongst the females, who never take pains to change its natural colour, as 
 the men often do), there moy be seen every shade and colour of hair that 
 can be seen in our own country, with the exception of red or auburn, which 
 is not to be found. 
 
 And there is yet one more strange iiid unaccountable peculiarity, which 
 can probably be seen nowhere else on ( irth; nor on any rational grounds 
 accounted for, — other than it is a freak or order of Nature, for which she 
 has not seen fit to assign a reason. There are very many, of both sexes, 
 and of every age, from infancy to manhood and old age, with hair of a 
 bright silvery grey; and in sorrve instances almost perfectly white. 
 
 This singular and eccentric appearance is much oftener seen among the 
 women than it is with the men ; for many of the latter who have it, seem 
 ashamed of it, and artfully conceal it, by filling their hair with glue and 
 black and red earth. The women, on the other hand, seem proud of it, and 
 display it often in an almost incredible profusion, which spreads over their 
 shoulders and falls as low as the knee. I have ascertained, on a careful 
 enquiry, that about one in ten or twelve of the whole tribe are what the 
 French call "cheveux gris," or greyhairs; and that this strange and un- 
 accountable phenomenon is not the result of disease or habit ; but that it is 
 unquestionably a hereditary character which runs in families, and indicates 
 no inequality in disposition or intellect. And by passing this hair through 
 my hands, as 1 often have, I have found it uniformly to be as coarse and 
 harsh as a horse's mane ; differing materially from the hair of other colours, 
 which amongst the Mandans, is generally as fine and as soft as silk. 
 
 The reader will at once see, by the above facts, that there is enough upon 
 the faces and heads of these people to stamp them peculiar, — when he meets 
 them in the heart of this almost boundless wilderness, presenting such 
 diversities of colour in the complexion and hair; when he knows from what 
 he has seen, and what he has read, that all other primitive tribes known in 
 America, are dark copper-coloured, with jet black hair. 
 
 From these few facts alone, the reader will see that I am amongst a strange 
 and interesting people, and know how to pardon me, if I lead him through 
 a maze of novelty and mysteries to the knowledge of a strange, yet kind 
 and hospitable, people, whose fate, like that of all their race is sealed ; — 
 
 '.\ 
 
 i I 
 
«J5 
 
 whose doom is fixed, to live just lon'^ eiioiitjli to bo inn)crtectly known, and 
 then to full before tlie full disease or sword of civilizing devastation. 
 
 The stature of the Mandans is rather below the ordinary s /e of man, with 
 beautiful symmetry of ♦'■)rm and proportion, and wonderful siiiiplenesi and 
 flasticity: they are pleasingly erect and graceful, both in their walk and their 
 attitudis ; and the hair ff the men, which generally spreads over their backs, 
 falling down to the hams, and sometimes to the ground, is divided into |)laits 
 or slabs of two inches in width, and tilled with 4 profusion of glue und red 
 earth or vermillion, at intervals of an inch or two, which becoming very 
 hartl, remains in and unchanged from year to year. 
 
 This mode of dressing the hair is curious, and ;;ivcs to the Mandans the 
 most singular appearance. The hair of the men is uniforndy all laid over 
 from the forehead backwards ; carefully krpt above and resting on the 
 ear, and thence falling down over the back, in tlicse flattened bunches, and 
 painted red, extending oftentimes quite on to the calf of the leg, and some- 
 times in such profusion as almost to conceal the whole figure fioiii the per- 
 son walking behind them. In the portrait of San-ja-ka-k( kah (the deceiv- 
 ing wolf, i>late 54), where he 's represented at full length, tviih several 
 others of his family around him in a group, there will be seen a fair illustra- 
 tion of these and other customs of these people. 
 
 The hair of the women is also worn as long as they can possibly cidtivate 
 it, oiled very often, which preserves on it a beautiful gloss and s' ows its 
 natural colour. They often braid it in two large plaits, one falling down 
 just back of the ear, on each side of the head ; and on any occasion which 
 rKjuires them to " put on their best looks," they pass their Hngers through 
 it, drawing it out of braid, and spreading it over their shoulders. The 
 Mandan women observe strictly the same custom, wliich I observed amongst 
 tlie Crows and Blackfect (and, in fact, all other tribes 1 have seen, without a 
 single exception), of parting the hair on the forehead, and always kee|)ing 
 tlie crease or separation filled with vermilion or other red paint. This is 
 one of the very few little (and apparently trivial) customs which I have 
 found amongst the Indians, without being able to assign any cause for it, 
 other than that " they are Indians," and that this is an Indian fashion. 
 
 In mourning, like the Crows and most other tribes, the women aie obliged 
 to crop their hair all off; and the usual term of that condolence is until the 
 hair has grown again to its former length 
 
 When a man mourns for the death of a near relation the case is quite 
 different ; his long, valued tresses, are of much greater importance, and only 
 a lock or two can b'^ spared. Just enough to tell of his grief to his friends, 
 without destroying his most valued ornament, is doing just reverence and 
 respect to the dead. 
 
 To repeat what I have said before, the Mandans are a pleasing and 
 friendly race of people, of whom it is proverbial amongst the Traders and 
 all who ever have known them that their treatment of white men in their 
 
al**^'^ 
 
 i 
 
 111 
 
 I B ', ( 11 
 
 ll 
 
 1 
 
 11 
 
 t 
 
 ;! «i 
 
 
 country has been friendly and kind ever since their first acquai: oce with 
 them — they have ever met and received them, on the prairie or in their 
 villages, with hospitality and honour. 
 
 They are handsome, straight and elegant in their forms — not tall, but qi "ck 
 and graceful ; easy and polite in their manners, neat in their persons and 
 beautifully clad. When I say " neat in person and beautifully clad," 
 however, I do not intend my readers to understand that such is the case 
 with them all, for among them and most other tribes, as with the enlightened 
 world, there are different grades of society — those who care but little for 
 their personal appearance, and those who take great pains to please them- 
 selves and their friends. Amongst this class of personages, such as chiefs 
 and braves, or warriors of distinction, and their families, and dandies or ex- 
 quisites (a class of beings of whom I shall take due tim^ to speak in a 
 future Letter), the strictest regard to decency, and cleanliness and elegance 
 of dress is observed ; and there are few people, perhaps, who take more 
 pains to keep their persons neat and cleanly than they do 
 
 At the distance of half a mile or so above the village, is the customary 
 place where the women and girls resort every morning in the summer months, 
 to bathe in the river. To this spot they repair by hundreds, every morning 
 at sunrise, where, on a beautiful beach, they can be seen running and glisten- 
 ing in the sun, whilst they are playing their innocent gambols and leaping 
 into the stream. They all learn to swim well, and the poorest swimmer 
 amongst them will dash fearlessly into the boiling and eddying current of 
 the Missouri, and cross it with perfect ease. At the distance of a quarter 
 of a mile back from the river, extends a terrace or elevated prairie, running 
 north from the village, and forming a kind of semicircle around this bathing- 
 place; and on this terrace, which is some twenty or thirty feet higher than 
 the meadow between it and the river, are stationed every morning several 
 sentinels, with their bows and arrows in hand, to guard and protect this 
 sacred ground from the approach of boys or men from any directions. 
 
 At a little distance below the village, also, is the place where the men and 
 boys go to bathe and learn to swim. After this morning ablution, they it^...n 
 to their village, wipe their limbs dry, and use a profusion of bear's grease 
 through their hair and over their bodies. 
 
 The art of swimming is known to all the American Indians ; and perhaps 
 no people on earth have taken more pains to learn it, nor any who turn it 
 to belter account. There certainly are no people whose avocations of life 
 more often call for the use of their limbs in this way ; as many of the tribes 
 spend their lives on the shores of our vast lakes and rivers, paddling about 
 from their childhood in their fragile bark canoes, which are liable to con- 
 tinual accidents, which often throw the Indian upon his natural resources for 
 the preservation of his life. 
 
 There are many times also, when out upon their long marches in the pro- 
 secution of their almost continued warfare, when it becomes necessary to 
 
[ual: nee with 
 airie or in their 
 
 t tall, but qi 'ck 
 ;ir persons and 
 lutifuUy clad," 
 ;uch is the case 
 the enlightened 
 e but little for 
 to please them- 
 siich as chiefs 
 dandies or ex- 
 to speak in a 
 IS and elegance 
 who take more 
 
 the customary 
 lummer months, 
 , every morning 
 ing and glisten- 
 ols and leaping 
 oorest swimmer 
 ^ing current of 
 nee of a quarter 
 prairie, running 
 id this bathing- 
 !et higher than 
 nnoining several 
 id protect this 
 rections. 
 re the men and 
 ion, they iti...n 
 )f bear's grease 
 
 . ; and perhaps 
 ny who turn it 
 'ocations of life 
 ny of the tribes 
 
 addling about 
 e liable to con- 
 
 al resources for 
 
 ches in the pro- 
 ea necessary to 
 
97 
 
 pninge into and swim across the wildest streams and rivers, at times when 
 they have no canoes or craft in which to cross them. I have as yet seen no 
 tribe where this art is neglected. It is learned at a very early age by both 
 sexes, and enables the strong and hardy muscles of the squaws to take their 
 child upon the back, and successfully to pass any river that lies in their 
 way. 
 
 The mode of swimming amongst tlie Mandans, as well as amongst most 
 of the other tribes, is quite different from that practiced in those parts of the 
 civilized world, which I have had the pleasure yet to visit. The Indian, 
 instead of parting his hands simultaneously under the chin, and making the 
 stroke outward, in a horizontal direction, causing thereby a serious strain 
 upon the chest, throws his body alternately upon the left and the right 
 sif'e, raising one arm entirely above the water and reaching as far forward 
 as he can, to dip it, whilst his whole weight and force are spent upon the one 
 that is passing under him, and like a paddle propelling him along; whilst 
 this arm is making a half circle, and is being raised out of the water behind 
 him, the opposite arm is describing a similar arch in the air over his head, 
 to be dipped in the water as far as he can reach before him, with the hand 
 turned under, forming a sort of bucket, to act most effectively as it passe* 
 in its turn underneath him. 
 
 By this bold and powerful mode of swimming, which may want the grace 
 that many would wish to see, 1 am quite sure, from the experience I have 
 had, that much of the fatigue and strain upon the breast and spine are 
 avoided, and that a man will preserve his strength and his breath much 
 longer in this alternate and rolling motion, than he can in the usual mode 
 of swimming, in the polished world. 
 
 In addition to the modes of bathing which I have above described, the 
 Mandans have another, which is a much greater luxury, and often resorted 
 to by the sick, but far more often by the well and sound, as a matter of 
 luxury only, or perhaps for the purpose of hardening their limbs and preparing 
 them for the thousand exposures and vicissitudes of life to which they are 
 continually liable. I allude to their vapour baths, or sudatories, of which 
 each village has several, and which seem to be a kind of public property — 
 accessible to all, and resorted to by all, male and female, old and young, 
 sick and well. 
 
 In every Mandan lodge is to be seen a crib or basket, much in the shape 
 of a bathing-tub, curiously woven with willow boughs, and sufficiently large 
 to receive any person of the family in a reclining or recumbent posture ; 
 which, when any one is to take a bath, is carried by the squaw to the 
 sudatory for the purpose, and brought back to the wigwam again after it 
 has been used 
 
 These sudatories are always near the village, above or below it, on the 
 bank of the river. They are generally built of skins (in form of a Crow 
 or Sioux lodge which I have before described), covered with buffalo skins 
 
 VOL. I. 0' , 
 
98 
 
 •- it 
 
 
 • ! 
 
 K if 
 
 sewed tight together, with a kind of furnace in the centre; or in other words, 
 'v.\ the centre of the lodge are two walls of stone about six feet long and 
 two and a half apart, and about three feet high ; across and over this space, 
 between the two walls, are laid a number of round sticks, on which the 
 bathing crib is placed (vide plate 71). Contiguous to the lodge, and out- 
 side of it, is a little furnace soniething similar, in the side of the bank, where 
 the woman kindles a hot firo, and heats to a red heat a number of large 
 stones, which are kept at these places for this particular purpose; and having 
 them all in readiness, she goes home or sends word to inform her husband 
 or other one who is waiting, that all is ready; when he makes hia ap- 
 pearance entirely naked, though with a large buffalo robe wrapped around 
 him. He then enters the lodge and places himself in the crib or 
 basket, cither on his back or in a sitting posture (the latter of which is gene- 
 rally preferred), with his back towards the door of the lodge; when the 
 r.quaw brings in a large stone red hot, between two sticks (lashed together 
 somewhat in the form of a pair of tongs) and, placing it under him, throws 
 cold water upon it, which raises a profusion of vapour about him. He is at 
 once enveloped in a cloud of steam, and a woman or child will sit at a little 
 distance and continue to dash water upon the stone, whilst the matron of 
 the lodge is out, and preparing to make her appearance with another heated 
 stone : or he will sit and dip from a wooden bowl, with a ladle made of the 
 mountaiv -sheep's horn, and throw upon the heated stones, with his own 
 hands, the water which he is drawing through his lungs and pores, in 
 the next moment, in the most delectable and exhilarating vapours, as it 
 distils through the mat of wild sage and other medicinal and aromatic 
 herbs, which he has strewed over the bottom of his basket, and on which he 
 reclines. 
 
 During all this time the lodge is shut perfectly tight, and he quaffs this 
 delicious and renovating draught to his lungs with deep drawn sighs, and 
 with extended nostrils, until he is drenched in the most profuse degree of 
 perspiration that can be produced ; when he makes a kind of strangled 
 signal, at which the lodge is opened, and he darts forth with the speed of a 
 frightened deer, and plunges headlong into the river, from which he in- 
 stantly escape?, again, wraps his robe around him and " leans" as fast as 
 possible for home. Here his limbs are wiped dry, and v rapped close and 
 tight within the fur of the buffalo robes, in which he takrs his nap, with his 
 feet to the fire ; then oils his limbs and hair with bear's grease, dresses and 
 plumes himself for a visit — a feast —a parade, or a coun ni ; or slicks down 
 his long hair, and rubs his oiled limbs to a polish, with a piece of soft buck- 
 skin, prepared to join in games of ball or Tchung-kee. 
 
 Such is the sudatorj or the vapour bath of the Mandans, and, as I before 
 observed, it is resorted to both as an every-day luxury by those who have 
 the tiu.e and energy or industry to indulge in it ; and also used by the sick 
 as a remedy for nearly all the diseases which are known amongst them, 
 
9fl 
 
 Fevers are very rare, and in fact almost unknown amongst tliese people : 
 but in the few cases of fever which have been known, this treatment has 
 been applied, and without ilie fatal consequences which we would naturally 
 predict. The greater part of their diseases are inflammatory rheumatisms, 
 and other chronic diseases ; and for these, this mode of treatment, with their 
 modes of life, does admirably well. This custom is similar amons^jst nearly 
 all of these Missouri Indians, and amongst the Pawnees,Omahas, ar^d Punchas 
 and other tribes, who have suffered with the small-pox (the dread destroyer 
 of the Indian race), this mode was practiced by the poor creatures, who 
 fled by hundreds to the river's edge, and by hundreds died before they could 
 escape from the waves, into which they had plunged in the heat and rage of 
 a burning fever. Such will yet be the scourge, and such the misery of these 
 poor unthinking people, and each tribe to the Rocky Mountains, as it has 
 been with every tribe between here and the Atlau.io Ocean. Wiiite men— 
 wliiskey — tomahawks — scalping knives — guns, powder and ball — small-pox 
 — dcbaucherv — extermination. 
 
m 
 
 LETTER No. 14. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURL 
 
 The Mandans in many instances dress very neatly, and some of llieni 
 splendidly. As they are in their native state, their dresses are all of their 
 ow'.i manufacture ; and of course, altogether made of skins of different 
 animals belonging to those regions. There is, certainly, a reigning and 
 striking similarity of costume amongst most of the Nortli Western tribes ; 
 and I cannot say that the dress of the Mandans is decidedly disiinci from 
 thai of the Crows or the Blackfeet, the Assinneboins jr the Sioux ; 
 yet there are modes of stitching or embroidering, in eveiy tribe, which 
 may at once enable the traveller, who is familiar witli their modes, to detect 
 or distinguish the dress of any tribe. These differences consist generally 
 in the fashions of constructing the head-dress, or of garnishing their 
 dresses with the porcupine quills, which they use in great profusion. 
 
 Amongst so many different and distinct nations, always at war with each 
 other, and knowing nothing at all of each other's languages ; and amongst 
 whom, fashions in dress seldom if ever change ; it may seem somewhat 
 strange that we sliould find these people so nearly following, or imitating 
 each other, in the forms and modes of their dress and ornaments. This must 
 however, be admitted, and T think may be accounted for in a manner, w.Lhout 
 raising the least argument in favour of the theory of their having all sprung 
 from one stock or one family ; for in their continual warfare, when chiefs 
 or warriors fall, their clothes and weapons usually fall into the possession of 
 the victors, who wear them ; and the rest of the tribe would naturally more 
 or less often copy from or imitate them ; and so also in their repeated 
 councils or treaties of peace, such articles of dress and other manufactures 
 are customarily exchanged, which are equally adopted by the other tribe; 
 and consequently, eventually lead to the similarity which we find amongst 
 the modes of dress, &c. of the different tribes. 
 
 The tunic or shirt of the Mandan men is very similar in shape to that of 
 the Blackfeet — made of Lwo skins of deer or mountain-sheep, stiung with 
 scalp-locks, beads, and ermine. The leggings, like those of the other tribes, 
 of whom I have spoken, are made of deer skins, and shaped to fit the leg, em- 
 broidered with porcupine quills, and fringed with scalps from their enemies 
 Leads. Their moccasins are made of buckskin, and neatly ornamented 
 
101 
 
 ■with porcupine quills— over their shoulders (or in other words, over one 
 shoulder and passing under the other), they very gracefully wear a robe from 
 tlic young buffalo's back, oftentimes cut down to about half its original size, 
 to make it handy and easy for use. Many of these are also fringed on one 
 side with scalp-locks ; and the flesh side of the skin curiously ornamented 
 with pictured representations of the creditable events and battles of their 
 lives. 
 
 Their head-dresses are of various sorts, and many of them exceedingly 
 picturesque and handsome; generally made of war-eagles' or ravens 
 cpiills and ermine. These are the most costly part of an Indian's dresa 
 in all this country, owing to the difficulty of procuring the quills and the 
 fur. The war-eagle being the " rara avis," and the ermine the rarest 
 animal that is found in the country. The tail of a war-eagle in 
 this village, provided it is a perfect one, containing some six or eight 
 quills, which are denominated first-rate plumes, and suitable to arrange 
 in a head-dress, will purchase a tolerable good horse (horses, however, are 
 much cheaper here than they are in most other countries). I have had 
 abundant opportunities of learning the great value which these people some- 
 times attach to such articles of dress and ornament, as 1 have been 
 purchasing a great many, which I intend to exhibit in my Gallery of Indian 
 Paintings, that the world may examine them for themselves, and thereby be 
 enabled to judge of the fidelity of my works, and the ingenuity of Indian 
 manufactures. 
 
 In these purchases I have often been surprised at the prices demanded 
 by them ; and perhaps I could not recite a better instance of the kind, than 
 one which occurred here a few days since : — One of the chiefs, whom I had 
 painted at full length, in a beautiful costume, with head-dress of war- 
 eagles' quills and ermine, extending quite down to his feet ; and whom I 
 was soliciting for the purchase of his dress complete, was willing to sell to 
 me all but the head-dress ; saying, that " he could not part with that, as 
 he would never be able to get quills and ermine of so good a (|uality to 
 make another like it." I agreed with him, however, for the rest of the 
 dress, and importuned him, from day to day, for the head-dress, until 
 he at length replied, that, if I must have it, he must have two horses for 
 it ; tlif >argain was instantly struck — the horses were procured of the 
 Traders at twenty-five dollars each, and the head-dress secured for my 
 Collection. 
 
 There is occasionally, a chief or a warrior of so extraordinary renown, 
 that he is allowed to wear horns on his head-dress, which give to his aspect 
 a strange and majestic effect. These are made of about a third part 
 of the horn of a buffalo bull ; the horn having been split from end to end, 
 and a tliiid part of it taken and shaved thin and light, and highly polished. 
 These are attached to the top of the head-dress on each side, in the same 
 place that they rise and stand on the head of a buffalo ; rising out of a mat 
 
.^< 
 
 11 
 
 f^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 ui; 
 
 ■1 
 
 102 
 
 of ermine skins and tails, which hang over the top of the head-dress, sorne^ 
 what in the form tliat the Uirge and profuse locks of hair hang and fall over 
 the head of a buffalo bull. See head-dress in plates 14, 64, and 91, of 
 three different tribes. 
 
 The same custom I have found observed amongst the Sioux, — the Crows 
 — the Blackfeet and Assinneboins, and it is one of so striking a character 
 as needs a few more words of observation. There is a peculiar meaning or 
 importance (in their estimation) to this and many other curious and unac- 
 countable appea nccs i'' ' e hubits of Indians, upon which the world 
 generally look as > ot . ^ are aosurd and ridiculous, merely because they 
 arc beyond the wojl-iV I'omp; hension, or because we do not stop to enquire 
 or learn their uses or 
 
 I find that the principal causv ' •■ we underrate and despise the savage, is 
 generally because we do not understu.id him ; and the reason why we are ig- 
 norant of him and his modes, is that we do not stop to investigate — the world 
 have been too much in the habit of looking upon him as altogether inferior — 
 as a beast, a brute ; and unworthy of more than a passing notice. If they stop 
 long enough to form an acquaintance, it is but to take advantage of his 
 ignorance and credulities — to rob him of the wealth and resources of his 
 country ; — to make him drunk with whiskey, and visit him with abuses which 
 in his ignorance he never thought of. By this method his first visitors entirely 
 overlook and never understand the meaning of his thousand interesting and 
 characteristic customs; and at ''.2 same time, by changing his native modes 
 and habits of life, blot them out from the view of the enquiring world 
 for ever. 
 
 It is from the observance of a thousand little and apparently trivial modes 
 and tricks of Indian life, that the Indian character must be learned ; and, 
 in fact, it is just the same with us if the subject were reversed : excepting 
 that the system of civilized life would furnish ten apparently useless and 
 ridiculous trifles to one which is found in Indian life ; and at least twenty to 
 one which are purely nonsensical and unmeaning. 
 
 The civilized world look upon a group of Indians, in their classic dress, 
 with their few and simple oddities, all of which have their moral or meaning, 
 and laugh at them excessively, because they are not like ourselves — we ask, 
 " why do the silly creatures wear such great bunches of quills on their 
 heads? — Such loads and streaks of paint upon their bodies — and bear's 
 grease ? abominable ! " and a thousand other equally silly questions, 
 without ever stopping to think that Nature taught them to do so — 
 and that they all have some definite importance or meaning which an 
 Indian could explain to us at once, if he were asked and felt disposed to do 
 i. —that each quill in his head stood, in the eyes of his whole tribe, as the 
 symbol of an enemy who had fallen by his hand — that every streak of red 
 paint covered a wound which he had got in honourable combat — and that the 
 bear's grease with which he carefully anoints his body every morning, from 
 
1(U 
 
 head lo foot, cleanses and purifies tti^ body, and protecis his skin from tlie 
 bitf! of miisqiiitoea, and at tlio s ..ic tunc preserves him froin colds and coughs 
 which are usually takon tliro^^li the pores of the skin. 
 
 At the same time, an Indian looks among the civilized world, no doubt, 
 ■vilh eaual. if not much greater, astonishment, at our apparently, as well 
 •M really, ridiculous customs and fashions; but he laughs not, nor ridicules, 
 nor questions, — for his natural good sense and good manners forbid him,— 
 until he is reclining about the fire-side of his wigwam companions, when he 
 vents forth his just criticisms upon the learned world, who are a rich and 
 just theme for Indian criticism and Indian gossip. 
 
 An Indian will not ask a white man the reason why he does not oil his 
 skin with bears' grease, or why he does not paint his body — or why he wears 
 a liat on his head, or why he has buttons on the back part o' his coat, v.her' 
 they never can be used — or why he wears whiskers, and a shirt collar up K 
 his eyes— or why he sleeps with his head towards the fire instead of his fi "t 
 — why he walks with his toes out instead of turning them in — oi why . 
 tlmt hundreds of white folks will flock and crowd round a table to y n 
 Indian eat^but he will go home to his wigwam fire-side, and " make th 
 wolkin ring" with jokes and fun upon the ignorance and folly o*" the 
 knowing world. 
 
 A wild Indian thrown into the civilized atmosphere will see a man occasion- 
 ally moving in society, wearing a cocked hat ; and another with a laced coat 
 and gold or silver epaulettes upon his shoulders, without knowing or en- 
 quiring the meaning of them, or the objects for which they are worn. Just 
 so a white man travels amongst a wild and untaught tribe of Indians, and sees 
 occasionally one of them parading about their village, with a head-dress of 
 eai^les* quills and ermine, and elevated above it a pair of beautifully polished 
 buffalo horns ; and just as ignorant is he also, of their meaning or import- 
 ance; and more so, for the first will admit the presumption that epaulettes 
 and cocked hats amongst the civilized world, are made for some important 
 purpose, — but the latter will presume that horns on an Indian's head are 
 nothing more nor less (nor can they be in their estimation), than Indian 
 nonsense and stupidity. 
 
 This brings us to the "corned crest" again, and if the poor Indian 
 scans epaulettes and cocked hats, without enquiring their meaning, and 
 explaining them to his tribe, it is no reason why I should have associated 
 with the noble dignitaries of these western regions, with horns and ermine 
 on their heads, and then to have introduced the subject without giving some 
 further clue to their importance and meaning. For me, this negligence 
 would be doubly unpardonable, as I travel, not to trade but to herald 
 the Indian and his dying customs to posterity. 
 
 This custom then, which I have before observed belongs to all the north- 
 western tribes, is one no doubt of very ancient origin, having a purely 
 classic meaning. No one wears the head-dress surmounted with horns ex- 
 
 .:-ti 
 
 tki 
 
104 
 
 • 1 
 
 m 
 
 ct'pt the dignitaries who arc very hi;rh in authority, and whose exceedinp; 
 valour, worth, and power is admitted by all the nation. 
 
 He may wear them, however, who is not a chief: but a brave, or 
 warrior of sucii remarkable character, that he is esteemed universally in the 
 tribe, as a man whose " voice is as loud in council'' as that of a chief of the 
 first grade, and consequently his power as great. 
 
 This head-dress with hoins is used only on certain occasions, and they 
 are very seldom. When foreign chiefs, Indian agents, or other impor- 
 tant personages visit a tribe ; or at war parades, at the celebration of a vic- 
 tory, at public festivals, &c. they are worn ; but on no other occasions— 
 unless, sometimes, when a chief sees fit to lead a war-party to battle, he 
 decorates his hcail with this symbol of power, to stimulate his men; and 
 throws himself into the foremost of the battle,, inviting his enemy to concen- 
 trate their shafts upon him. 
 
 The horns on these head-dresses are but loosely attached at the bottom, so 
 that they easily fall back or forward, according as the head is inclined 
 forward or backward ; and by an ingenious motion of the head, which is so 
 slight as to be almost imperceptible — they are made to balance to and fro, 
 and sometimes, one backward and the other forward like a horse's ears, 
 giving a vast deal of expression and force of character, to the appearance of 
 the chief who is wearing them. This, reader, is a remarkable instance (like 
 liundreds of others), for its striking similarity to Jewish customs, to the kerns 
 (or keren, in Hebrew), the horns worn by the Abysinian chiefs and 
 Hebrews, as a symbol of power and command ; worn at great parades and 
 Celebrations of victories. 
 
 "The false prophet Zedekiah, made him horns of iron" (1 Kings xxii. 11). 
 " Lift not your horns on high; speak not with a stiff neck" (Ps. Ixxv. 5). 
 
 This last citation seems so exactly to convey to my mind the mode of 
 raising and changing the position of the horns by a motion of the head as 
 I have above described, that I am irresistibly led to believe that this custom 
 is now practiced amongst these tribes very nearly as it was amongst the 
 Jews ; and that it has been, like many other customs of which I shall speak 
 more in future epistles, handed down and preserved with very little innova- 
 tion or change from that ancient people. 
 
 The reader will see this custom exemplified in the portrait of Mah-to- 
 toh-pa (plate 64). This man, although the second chief, was the only 
 man in the nation who was allowed to wear the horns ; and all, I found, 
 'ooked upon him as the leader, who had the power to lead all the warriors 
 in time of war ; and that, in consequence of the extraordinary battles which 
 he had fought. 
 
[lose exceeding 
 
 KV 
 
 LETTER— No. 15. 
 
 I 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE. UPPER MISSOUIU. 
 
 A WEEK or more lias ehipsccl since tlie date of my last Letter, and nothing 
 as yet of the great and curious event — or tlie Mandan rcliijioiis ceremony. 
 There is evidently much preparation malting for it, however ; and from 
 what I can learn, no one in the nation, save the vicdicine-men , have any 
 knowledge of the exact day on which it is to commence. I am informed 
 by the chiefs, that it takes place as soon as ihe willow-treo is in full leaf; 
 for, say they, '* the twig which the bird brought in was a willow bough, 
 and had full-grown leaves on it." So it seems that this celebration has 
 some relation to the Flood. 
 
 This great occasion is close at hand, and will, undoubtedly, commence in 
 a few days ; in the meantime I will give a few notes and memorandums, 
 ivhich I have made since my last. 
 
 I have been continually at work with my brush, with fine and picturesque 
 subjects before me ; and from the strange, whimsical, and superstitious 
 notions which they have of an art so novel and unaccountable to them, I 
 have been initiated into many of their mysteries — have witnessed many very 
 curious incidents, and preserved several anecdotes, some of which I must 
 relate. 
 
 Perhaps nothing ever more completely astonished these people than the 
 operations of my brush. The art of portrait-painting was a subject entirely 
 new to them, and of course, unthought of; and my appearance here has 
 commenced a new era in the arcana of medicine or mystery. Soon after 
 arriving here, I commenced and finished the portraits of the two principal 
 chiefs. This was done without having awakened the curiosity of the 
 villagers, as they had heard nothing of what was going on, and even the 
 chiefs themselves seemed to be ignorant of my designs, until the pictures 
 were completed. No one else was admitit I into my lodge during the 
 operation ; and when finished, it was exceedingly amusing to see them 
 mutually recognizing each other's likeness, and assuring each other of 
 the striking resemblance which they bore to the originals. Both of these 
 pressed their hand over their mouths awhile in dead silence (a custom 
 iiniongst most tribes, when anything surprises them very much) ; looking 
 attentively upon the portraits and myself, and upon the palette and colours 
 witii which these unaccountable effects had been produced. 
 VOL. 1. e 
 
lO'J 
 
 ¥ ■! 
 
 They tlion wnlkcd up to mo in the inodt pontic manner, taking niv in 
 turn by tl>e bund, with a flini grip; with iicail and «;yi's inclined down- 
 wards, and in a tone a little above a \vbi8i»er — pronounced the words " te-ho- 
 pe-nec Wash-e(! ! " and walked oil'. 
 
 Headers, at that moment I was christened with a new and a great name- 
 one by which I am now familiarly hailed, and talked uf in this village ; and 
 no doubt will be, as long as traditions last in this strange community. 
 
 That moment coviferred an honour on me, which you as yet do not under- 
 •tand. I took the degree (not of Doctor of Laws, nor Bachelor of Arts) of 
 Master of Arts — of mysteries — of magic, and of hocus pocus. I was recog- 
 nized in that short senttiu^e as a " great medicine ivliitc miin ;" and since 
 that time, have been regularly installed medicine or mystery, which is the 
 most honourable degree that could be conferred upon me here ; and I now 
 hold a place amongst the most eminent and envied personages, the doctors 
 and conjurati of this tilled community. 
 
 Te-ho-pe-nee Wash-ee (or medicine white man) is the name I now go by, 
 and it will prove to me, no doubt, of more value than gold, for I have been 
 calltd upon and feasted by the doctors, who are all mystery-men ; and it 
 has been an easy and successful passport already to many strange and mys- 
 terious places ; and has put mc in possession of a vast deal of curious and 
 interesting information, wiiich I am sure I never should have otherwise 
 learned. I am daily growing in the estimation of the medicine-men and 
 the chiefs ; and by assuming all the gravity and circumspection due from 
 so high a dignitary (and even considerably more) ; and endeavouring to 
 perform now and then some art or trick that is unfathomable, I am in 
 hopes of supporting my standing, until the great annual ceremony com- 
 mences ; on which occasion, I may possibly be allowed a seat in the medi- 
 cine-lodge by the doctors, who are the sole conductors of this great source 
 and fountain of all priestcraft and conjuration in this country. 
 
 After I had finished the portraits of the two chiefs, and they had returned 
 to their wigwams, and deliberately seated themselves by their respective 
 fire-sides, and silently smoked a pipe or two (according to an universal 
 custom), they gradually began to tell what had taken place ; and at length 
 crowds of gaping listeners, with mouths wide open, thronged their lodges ; 
 and a throng of women and girls were about my house, and through 
 every crack and crevice I could see their glistening eyes, which were 
 piercing my hut in a hundred places, from a natural and restless pro- 
 pensity, a curiosity to see what was going on within. An hour or more 
 passed in this way, and the soft and silken throng continually increased, 
 until some hundreds of them were clung, and piled about my wigwam like 
 a swarm of bees hanging on the front and sides of their hive. 
 
 During this time, not a man made his appearance about the premises — after 
 awhile, however, they could be seen, folded in their robes, gradually siding 
 up towards the lodge, with a silly look upon their faces, which confessed at 
 
107 
 
 once tlint curiosity was lending: llieni reluctantly, wlicrc tlicir pride checked 
 and fuibadc tlieni to go. Tlio rush soon after beeniiic general, and the 
 eliic't's and mcdiciiic-nien took possession uf my room, phicing jiM/(/ter.t (braves 
 \Nilli spears in their hands) at the door, admitlin^r no one, but such as were 
 nllowed by the ciiiels, to conic in. 
 
 Mousr. Kipp (tlie agent of the Fur Company, who has lived here eight 
 yenrs, and to whom, for his politeness and hospitality, I am much indebted), 
 at this time took a seat with thi; chiefs, and, speaking their language Huently, 
 lie explained to them my views and the objects for which 1 was painting 
 these (Kjrtraits ; and also expounded to them the manner in which they were 
 niiule,— at which they seemed all to be very much pleased. The necessity 
 at this time of exposing the portraits to the view of the crowds who were 
 assembled around the house, became imperative, and they were held up 
 together over the door, so that the whole village had a chance to see and 
 reocgnize their ciiiefs. The effect upon so mixed a multitude, wiio as yet 
 had heard no way of accounting for them, was novel and really laughable. 
 The likenesses were instantly recognized, and many of the gaping multitude 
 commenced yelping; some were stamping off in the jarring dance — others 
 were singing, and others again were crying — hundreds covered their months 
 with their hands and were mute; others, indignant, drove their spears fright- 
 fully into the ground, and some threw a reddened arrow at the sun, and 
 went home to their wigwams. 
 
 Ti.e pictures seen, — the next curiosity was to see the man who made thorn, 
 und I was called forth. Readers ! if ^ou have any imagination, save me 
 the trouble of painting this scene. • • • • 
 
 • • * I stepped forth, and was Instantly hemmed 
 
 in in the throng. Women were gaping and gazing — and warriors and 
 braves were offering me their hands, — whilst little boys and girls, by dozens, 
 were struggling through the crowd to touch me with the ends of their 
 fingcis; and whilst I was engaged, from the waist upwards, in fending off 
 the throng and shaking hands, my legs were assailed (not unlike the nibbling 
 of little fish, when I have been standing in deep water) by children, 
 who were creeping between the legs of the bystanders for the curiosity or 
 honour of touching me with the end of their finger. The eager curiosity 
 and expression of astonishment with which they gazed upon me, plaiidy 
 shewed that they looked upon me as some strange and unaccountable being 
 They pronounced n- the greatest medicine-man in the world ; for they said 
 I had made living It ngs, — they said they could see their chiefs alive, in two 
 places — those that I had made were a little alive — they could see their eyes 
 move— could see them ymile and laugh, and that if they could laugh they 
 could certainly speak, it they should try, and they must therefore have 
 some life in them. 
 
 The squuws generally agreed, that they had discovered life enough in 
 ihcm to render my medicine too great for the Mandans ; saying that such an 
 
 !J 
 
 1 
 
108 
 
 Hi 
 
 lit i 
 
 operation could not be performed without taking away from the original 
 something of his existence, which I put in the picture, and they could see it 
 move, could see it stir. 
 
 This curtailing of the natural existence, for the purpose of instilling life 
 into the secondary one, they decided to be an useless and destructive 
 operation, and one which was calculated to do great mischief in their happy 
 community ; and they commenced a mournful and doleful chaunt against 
 me, crying and weeping bitterly through the village, proclaiming me a most 
 "dangerous man ; one who could make living persons by looking at them ; 
 and at the same time, could, as a matter of course, destroy life in the same way, 
 if 1 chose. That my medicine was dangerous to their lives, and that I must 
 leave the village immediately. That bad luck would happen to those whom 
 I painted — that I was to take a part of the existence of tliose whom 1 
 painted, and carry it home with me amongst the white people, and that wiien 
 they died they would never sleep quiet in their graves." 
 
 In this way the women and some old quack medicine-men together, liarl 
 succeeded in raising an oppo:i:ition against me ; and the reasons they 
 assigned were so plausible and so exactly suited for their superstitious 
 feelings, that they completely succeeded in exciting fears and a general 
 panic in the minds of a number of chiefs wlio had agreed to sit for their 
 portraits, and my operations were, of course, for several days completely at 
 a stand. A grave council was held on the subject from day to day, and 
 there seemed great diflficulty in deciding what was to be done with me and 
 the dangerous art whirii I was practicing; and which had far exceeded 
 their original expectations. I finallj got admittance to their sacred conclave, 
 and assured them that 1 was but i man like themselves, — that my art had no 
 medicine or mystery about it, but could be learned by any of them if they 
 would practice it as long as I hud — that my intentions towards thom were of 
 the most friendly kind, and that in the country where I lived, brave men 
 never allowed their squaws to frighten tliem with their foolish whims and 
 stories. They all immediately arose, shook me by the hand, and dressed 
 themselves for their pictures. After this, therd was no further difficulty 
 about sitting; all were ready to be painted, — the squaws were silent, and 
 my painting-room a continual resort for the chiefs, and braves, and medicine- 
 men ; where they waited with impatience for the completion of each one's 
 picture, — that they could decide as to the likeness as it came from under the 
 brush ; that they could laugh, and yell, and sing a new song, and smoke a 
 fresh pipe to the health and success of him who had just been safely 
 delivered from the hands and the mystic operation of the ^^ white medicine." 
 
 In each of these operations, as they successfully took place, I observed 
 that a pipe or two were well tilled, and as soon as I commenced painting, 
 the chiefs and braves, who sat around the sides of the lodge, commenced 
 smoking for the success of the picture (and probably as much or more so 
 for the safe d<:liverance of the sitter from iiarai while under the cperation); 
 
 ii )i 
 
109 
 
 and so they continued to pass the pipe around until the portrait was 
 completed. 
 
 Ill this way I progressed with my portraits, stopping occasionally very 
 suddenly as if something was wrong, and taking a tremendous puft' or two at 
 the pipe, and streaming the smoke through my nostrils, exhibiting in my looks 
 and actions an evident lelief ; enabling me to proceed with more facility and 
 success, — by flattering and complimenting each one on his good looks after 1 
 had got it done, and taking them according to rank, or standing, making it 
 a matter of honour with them, which pleased them exceedingly, and gave 
 me and my art the stamp of respectability at once. 
 
 I was then taken by the arm by the chiefs, and led to their lodges, where 
 feasts were prepared for me in elegant style, i. e. in the best manner which 
 this country affords ; and being led by the arm, and welcomed to them by 
 (jentlemcn of high and exalted feelings, rendered them in my estimation 
 truly elegant. 
 
 I was wailed upon in due form and ceremony by the medicine-men, who 
 received me upon the old adage, " Similis simili gaudet." I was invited to 
 a feast, and they presented me a she-shee-quoi, or a doctor's rattle, and 
 also a magical wand, or a doctor's staff, strung with claws of the grizzly 
 bear, with hoofs of the antelope — with ermine — with wild sage and bat's 
 wings — and perfumed withal with the choice and savoury odour of tlie 
 pole-cat — a dog was sacrificed and hung by the legs over my wigwam, and 
 1 was therefore and thereby initiated into (and countenanced in the practice 
 of) the arcana of medicine or mystery, and considered a Fellow of tiie Ex- 
 traordinary Society of Conjuruti. 
 
 Since this signal success and good fortune in my operations, things have 
 gone on very pleasantly, and I have had a great deal of amusement. Some 
 altercation has taken place, however, amongst the chiefs and broves, with 
 regard to standing or rank, of which they are exceedingly jealous; and they 
 must sit (if at all) in regular order, according to that rank ; the trouble is all 
 settled at last, however, and I have had no want of subjects, though a 
 great many have become again alarmed, and are unwilling to sit, for fear, 
 as some say, that they will die prematurely if painted ; and as others say, 
 that if they are painted, the picture will live after they are dead, and they 
 cannot sleep quiet ii' their graves. 
 
 I have had several most remarkable occurrences in my painiing-room, of 
 this kind, which ha" e made me some everlasting enemies here ; though the 
 minds and feelings of the chiefs and medicine-men have not been affected 
 by them. There has.' been three or four instances where proud and aspiring 
 young men have beei: in my lodge, and after gazing at the portraits of the 
 head chief across the room (which sits looking them in the eyes), have raised 
 tlieir hands before their faces and walked around to the side of the lodge, on 
 the right or left, from whence to take a long and fair side-look at tiie chief, 
 instead of staring him full in the face (which is a most unpardonable otl'euce 
 
r: 
 
 1< 
 
 110 . 
 
 iu all Indian tribes) ; and after having got in that position, and cast their 
 eyes again upon the portrait which was yet looking them full in the face, 
 have thrown their robes over their heads and bolted out of the wigwam, 
 filled equally with astonishment and indignation ; averring, as they always will 
 in a sullen mood, that they "saw the eyes move," — thatas they walked around 
 the room " the eyes of the portrait followed them ." With these unfortunate 
 gentlemen, repeated efforts have been made by the Traders, and also by the 
 chiefs and doctors, who understand the illusion, to convince them of their 
 error, by explaining the mystery ; but they will not hear to any explanation 
 whatever ; saying, that " what they see with their eyes '.a always evidence 
 enough for them ;" that they always " believe their own eyes sooner than a 
 hundred tongues," and all efforts to get them a second time to my room, 
 or into my company in any place, have proved entirely unsuccessful. 
 
 I had trouble brewing also the other day from another source; one of 
 the " medicines " commenced howling and haranguing around my domicil, 
 amongst the throng that was outside, proclaiming that all who were inside 
 and being painted were fools and would soon die ; and very materially 
 affecting thereby my popularity. I however sent for him and called him in 
 the next morning, when I was alone, having only the interpreter with me ; 
 telling him that I had had my eye upon him for several days, and had been 
 so well pleased with his looks, that I had taken great pains to find out his 
 history, which had been explained by all as one of a most extraordinary 
 kind, and his character and standing in his tribe as worthy of my particular 
 notice; and that I had several days since resolved that as soon as I had 
 practiced my hand long enough upon the others, to get the stiffness out of 
 it (after paddling my canoe so far as I had) and make it to work easily 
 and successfully, I would begin on his portrait, which I was then prepared 
 to commence on that day, and that I felt as if I could do him justice. He 
 shook me by the hand, giving me the " Doctor's grip," and beckoned me to 
 sit down, which I did, and we smoked a pipe together. After this was over, 
 he told me, that " he had no inimical feelings towards me, although he had 
 Leen telling the chiefs that they were all fools, and all would die who had 
 their portraits painted — that although he had set the old women and chil- 
 dren all crying, a .d even made some of the young warriors tremble, yet 
 he had no unfriendly feelings towards me, nor any fear or dread of my 
 art." " I know you are a good man (said he), I know you will do no harm 
 to any one, your medicine is great and you are a great * medicine-man.' 
 I would like to see myself very well — and so would all of the chiefs ; but 
 they have all been many days in this medicine-house, and they all know 
 me well, and they have not asked me to come in and be made alive 
 with paints — my friend, I am glad that my people have told you who 
 I am — my heart is glad — I will go to my wigwar.- and eat, and in a little 
 while I will come, and you may go to woik ;" —another pipe was lit and 
 CKUilvLd, and ho got up and wont off. I prepared my canvass and pa- 
 
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30 
 
 and cast tlieir 
 ill in the face, 
 ■ the wigwam, 
 ley always will 
 walked around 
 jse unfortunate 
 ind also by the 
 them of their 
 ny explanation 
 ways evidence 
 sooner than a 
 ; to my room, 
 lessful. 
 
 source; one of 
 id my domicil, 
 ho were inside 
 irery materially 
 i called him in 
 eter with me ; 
 and had been 
 to find out his 
 ,t extraordinary 
 f my particular 
 soon as I had 
 stiffness out of 
 to work easily 
 then prepared 
 m justice. He 
 eckoned me to 
 this was over, 
 though he had 
 die who had 
 men and chil- 
 s tremble, yet 
 dread of my 
 ill do no harm 
 nedicine-man.' 
 he chiefs ; but 
 they all know 
 )e made alive 
 told you who 
 and in a little 
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 Ic'lte, and whistled nway the time until twelve o'clock, before lie made 
 his appearance; having used tie whole of the fore-part of the day at his 
 toilette, arranging hia dress and ornamenting his body for his picture. 
 
 At that hour then, bedaubed and streaked with paints of various olours, 
 with bear's grease and charcoal, with medicine-pipes in his hands and 
 foxes tails attached to his heels, entered Mah-to-ht-hah (the old bear. 
 PLATE 55), with a train of his own profcision, who seated themselves 
 around him ; and also a number of boys, whom it was requested should 
 remain with him, and whom I supposed it possible might have been pupils, 
 whom he was instructing in the mysteries of matcvia jncdica and hoca 
 pccn. He took his position in the middle of the room, waving his caglo 
 calumets in each hand, and singing his medicine-song which he sings over 
 his dying patient, looking me full in the face until I completed his picture, 
 which I painted at full length. His vanity has been completely gratified 
 in the operation ; iie lies for hours together, day after diy, in my ru m, 
 in front of his picture, gazing intensely upon it; lights my pipe for mo 
 while I am painting — shakes hands with me a dozen times on each day, 
 and talks of mc, and enlarges upon my rncdicine virtues and my talents, 
 wherever he goes ; so that this new difficulty is now removed, and instead of 
 preaching against me, he is one of my strongest and most enthusiastic friends 
 and aids in the country. 
 
 There is yet to be dt^cribed another sort of personage, that is often seen 
 stalking about in all Indian communities, a kind of nondescript, with whom 
 I have been somewhat annoyed, and still more amused, since I came to thia 
 village, of whom (or oi whkh) I shall give some account in my next epistle. 
 
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 112 
 
 LETTER— No. IG. 
 
 AlANDAN VILT.AGK, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
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 BESiDKScliicfs, and braves and doctors, of wliom 1 have heretofore spoken, 
 there is yet, another character of whom I must say a tew words before I 
 proceed to other topics. The person I alhide to, is the one mentioned at the 
 close of my last Letter, and familiarly known and countenanced in every 
 tribe a; in Indian bean or dondy. Sucli personages may be seen on every 
 pleasant uay, strutting- and parading around the village in the most beautiful 
 and unsoiled dresses, without the honourable trophies however of scalp locks 
 and claws of the grizzly bear, attached to their costume, for with such things 
 they deal not. They are not peculiarly anxious to hazard their lives in 
 equal and honourable combat with the one, or disposed to cross the path of 
 the other ; b<it generally remain about the village, to take care of the women, 
 and attire themselves in the skias of such animals as they can easily kill, 
 without seeding the rugged cliffs for the war-e•a^io, or visiting the haunts of 
 the grizzly bea Tliey plume themselves with swan's-down and quills of 
 ducks, with braids and |;laits of sweet-scented grass and other harmless 
 and unmeaning or:.aments, whicli have no other merit than they themselves 
 have, that of looking pretty and ornamental. 
 
 These clean and elegant gcuilcmen, who are very few in each tribe, are 
 held in very I'ttle ortimation by the chiefs and braves ; inasmuch as it is 
 known by all, that they have a most horrible aversion to arms, and are deno- 
 minated " faint hearts" or " old women" by the whole tribe, and are there- 
 forf; Lut little lespected. They seem, however, to be tolerably well contented 
 with tiie appellation, together with the celebrity they have acquired amongst 
 the women ai;;^ children for ihu beauty and elegance of their personal 
 appearance; and most of them seem to take and enjoy their shore of the 
 world's ;jleasuips, u'n'ough they are looked upon as drones in society. 
 
 These gay "nd tiaso»!od bucks may be seen in a pleasant day in all their 
 plumes, ojtride of their jJed or dappled ponies, with a fan in the right hand, 
 made of a tuvkey's' ail — .wth whip and a fly-brush attached to the wrist of 
 the same hand, and uiuh it'.eath them a white and beautiful and soft pleasure- 
 afuklle, ornameiiteci with porcupine quills and ermine, parading through 
 and lounging about the village for an hour or so, when they will 
 cautiou' ly bend thi /■ course to the suburbs of the town, where they will sit 
 
113 
 
 or recline upon their horses for an hour or two, overloolving tlie beautiful 
 games where the braves and the young aspirants Lie oontenclinjf in manly 
 and athletic amusements ; — when they are fatii^ued with this severe efTor!, 
 ihey wend their way back a;jain, lift ofF their fine white saddle of doc's-skin, 
 which is wadded with buffalo's hair, turn out their pony — take a little re- 
 freshment, smoke a pipe, fan themselves to sleep, and doze away the re»t 
 of the day. 
 
 Whilst I have been painting, from day to day, there have been two or 
 three of these fops continually strutting and taking their attitudes in front of 
 my door ; decked out in all their finery, without receiving other benefit or 
 other information, than such as they could discover through the cracks and 
 seams of my cabin. The chiefs, I observed, passed them by without notice, 
 and of course, without inviting them in ; and they seemed to figure about my 
 door from day to day in their best dresses and best attitudes, as if in hopes 
 that I would select them as models, for my canvass. It was natural that 
 I should do so, for their costume and personal appearance was entirely more 
 beautiful than anything else to be seen in the village. My plans were laid, 
 and one day when I had got through with all of the head men, who were 
 willing to sit to be painted, and there were two or three of the chiefs loung- 
 ing in my room, I stepped to the door and tapped one of these fellows on 
 the shoulder, who took the hint, and stepped in, well-pleased and delighted 
 widi the signal and honourable notice I had at length taken of him and 
 his beautiful dress. Readers, you cannot imagine what was the expression 
 of gratitude which beamed forth in this poor fellow's face, and how I'-v;'. 
 his heart beat with joy and pride at the idea of my selecting him to be 
 immortal, alongside of the chiefs and worthies whose portraits he saw 
 arranged around the room; and by which honour he, unJoubtedly, con- 
 sidered himself well paid for two or three weeks of regular painting, and 
 greasing, and dressing, and standing alternately on one leg md the other 
 at the door of my premises. 
 
 Weil, I placed him before me, and a canvass on my easel, and " chalked 
 liim out" at full length. He was truly a beautiful subject for the brush, 
 and I was filled with enthusiasm — his dress from head to foot was of the 
 skins of the mountain-goat, and dressed so neatly, that they were almost as 
 soft and as white as Canton crape — around the bottom and the sides it was 
 trimmed with ermine, and porcupine quills of beautiful dyes garnished it 
 in a hundred parts ; — his hair which was long, and spread over his back and 
 shoulders, extending nearly to the ground, was all combed back and parted 
 un his forehead like that of a woman. He was a tall and fine figure, with 
 ease and grace in his movements, that were well worthy of a man of better 
 caste. Jn his left hand he held a beautiful pipe — and r,\ his right hand he 
 plied his fan, and on his wrist was still attached his whip of elk's hum, and 
 his fly-brush, made of the buffalo's tail. There was nought about him ol 
 the terrible, and nouglit to shock the finest, chastest iiitclli.tt. 
 
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 114 
 
 I bad thus far progressed, with high-wrought feehngs of pleasure, when 
 the two or three chiefs, who had been seated around the lodsje, and whose 
 )K>rtraits I liad before painted, arose sttddenly, and wrapping themsclve* 
 tightly in their robes, crossed my room with a quick and heavy step, and 
 t'»ok an informal leave of my cabin. I was apprehensive of their displeasure, 
 though I continued my work; and in a few moments the interpreter came 
 furiously into my room, addressing me thus: — "My God, Sir! this never 
 will do ; you have given great ofl'cnce to the chiefs — they have made com- 
 plaint of your conduct to me — they tell me this is a worthless fellow — a man 
 of no account in the nation, and if you paint his picture, you must instantly 
 destroy theirs ; you have no alternative, my dear Sir — and the quicker this 
 chap is out of your lodge the better." 
 
 The same matter was explained to my sitter by the interpreter, when he 
 picked up hi- robe, wrapped himself in it, plied his fan nimbly about his 
 face, and walked out of the lodge in silence, but with quite a consequential 
 smile, taking his old position in front of the door for awhile, after which 
 he drew himself quietly off without further exhibition. So highly do Man- 
 dan braves and worthies value the honour of being painted ; and so littlb 
 do they value a man, however lavishly Nature may have bestowed her master 
 touches upon liim, who has not the pride and noble bearing of a warrior. 
 
 I spoke in a former Letter of Mah-to-toh-pa (the four bears), the second 
 chief of the nation, and the most popular man of the Mandans — a high- 
 minded and gallant warrior, as well as a polite and polished gentleman. 
 Since I painted his portrait, as I before described, I have received at his 
 hands many marked and signal attentions ; some of which I must name to 
 you, as the very relation of them will put you in possession of many little 
 forms and m'^des of Indian life, that otherwise might not have been noted. 
 
 Abo/' a week since, this noble fellow stepped into my painting-room 
 about tv, tlve o'clock in the day, in full and splendid dress, and passing his 
 arm through mine, pointed the way, and led me in the most gentlemanly 
 manner, through the village and into his own lodge, where a ft ast was pre- 
 pared in a careful manner ard waiting our arrival. Tho lodge in which he 
 dwelt was a room of immense size, some forty or fifty feet hi diameter, in a 
 circular form, and about twenty feet high — with a sunken curb of stone in 
 the centre, of five or six feet in diameter and one foot deep, which contained 
 the fire over which the pot was boiling. I was led near the edge of this 
 curb, and seated on a very handsome robe, most ingeniously garnislied and 
 painted with hieroglyphics ; and he seated himself gracefully on another 
 one at a little distance from me ; with the feast prepared in several dishes, 
 resting on a beautiful rush mat, which was placed between us (plate 62). 
 
 The simple feast which was spread before us consisted of three duhes 
 only, two of which were served in wooden bowls, and the third in an carth<;n 
 vessel of their own manufacture, somewhat in shape of a brtad-tray in 
 our own country. This last contained a quantity of pem-i-can and marnw- 
 
jlcasnip, wlien 
 c;e, and whose 
 ng themselve"* 
 cavy step, and 
 ;ir displeasure, 
 ;erprcter came 
 ir ! this never 
 ive made com- 
 fellow — a man 
 must instantly 
 16 quicker this 
 
 •eter, when he 
 nbly about his 
 consequential 
 le, after wliich 
 ighly do Man • 
 ; and so little 
 /ed her master 
 ' a warrior. 
 rs), the second 
 dans — a high- 
 led gentleman, 
 eceived at his 
 must name to 
 of many little 
 been noted, 
 painting-room 
 id passing his 
 t gentlemanly 
 fiast was pre- 
 je in which he 
 diameter, in a 
 
 of stone in 
 lich contained 
 edge of this 
 i'arnislied and 
 
 on another 
 Bveral dishes, 
 (plate 62). 
 
 three; dishes 
 in an earthen 
 ortnd-tray in 
 and marrcw' 
 
 
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115 
 
 f(tl ; and oiiu of the former Iicld ii fltif l)raee of biiflalo ribs, delightfully 
 roasted ; and tiw otlier was filled with a kinrl of paste or puddini^', made of 
 the flour of tiie " pomme blanche," as the Frencli call it, a delicious turnip 
 of the prairie, finely flavoured witii the hufl'alo berries, whifh are collected 
 in great quantities in this country, and used with divers dishes in cooiving, 
 as we in civilized countries use dried currants, whicli they very much re- 
 semble. 
 
 A handsome pipe and a tobacco-pouch made of the otter skin, filled with 
 k'nii-k-k'neck (Indian tobacco), laid by the side of the feast ; and when we 
 were seated, mine host took up his pipe, and deliberately filled it; and 
 instead of lighting it by the fire, which he could easily have done, he drew 
 from Ins pouch his flint and steel, and raised a spark with which he kindled 
 it. He drew a few strong wliift's tlirough it, and presented the stem of it to 
 my mouth, through which I drew a whiff or two while he held the stem in his 
 hands. This done, he laid down the pipe, and drawing his knife from his 
 belt, cut otF a very small piece of the meat tVoin the ribs, and pronouncing 
 the words " Ho-pe-ne-cliee wa-pa-shce" (meaning a medicine sacrifice), 
 threw it into the fire. 
 
 He then (by signals) requested me to eat, and I commenced, after draw- 
 ing out from my belt my knife (which it is supposed tliat every man in this 
 country carries about him, for at an Indian feast a knife is never ofl'ercd 
 to a guest). Reader, be not astonished tliat 1 sat and ate my dinner alone, 
 for such is the custom of this strange land. In all tribes in these 
 western regions it is an invariable rule that a chief never eats with his guests 
 invited to a feast ; but while they eat, he sits by, at their service, and ready 
 to wait upon them ; deliberately charging and lighting the pipe whicli is to be 
 passed around after the feast is over. Such was the case in the present 
 instance, and while I was eating, Mah-to-toh-pa sat cross-legged before me, 
 cleaning his pipe and preparing it for a cheerful smoke when I had finished 
 my meal. For this ceremony I observed he was making unusual preparation, 
 and I observed as I ate, that after he had taken enough of the k'nick-k'neck 
 or bark of the red willow, from his pouch, he rolled out of it also a piece of 
 the " castor," which it rs customary amongst these folks to carry in their 
 tobacco-sack to give it aflavour; and, shavingoff a small quantity of it, mixed 
 it with the bark, with which he charged his pipe. This done, he drew also 
 from his sack a small parcel containing a fine powder, which was made of 
 dried buffalo dung, a little of which he spread over the top, (according also 
 to custom,) which was like tinder, having no other effect than that of lighting 
 the pipe with ease and satisfaction. My appetite satiated, I straightened up, 
 and with a whiff the pipe was lit, and we enjoyed together for a quarter of 
 an hour the most delightful exchange of good feelings, amid clouds of smoke 
 and pantomimic signs and gesticulations. 
 
 The disli of "pemican and marrow-fat," of which I spoke, was thus : — The 
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 bread in tlie civilized world. It is made of buffalo meat dried very hard> 
 and afterwards pounded in a large wooden mortar until it is made nearly as 
 fine as sawdust, then packed in this dry state in bladders or sacks of skin, 
 and is easily carried to any part of the world in good order, " Marrow-fat" 
 is collected by the Indians from the buffalo bones which they break to 
 pieces, yielding a prodigious quantity of marrow, which is boiled out and 
 put into buffalo bladders which have been distended ; and after it cools, 
 becomes quite hard like tallow, and has the appearance, and very nearly 
 the flavour, of the richest yellow butter. At a feast, chunks of this marrow- 
 fat are cut off and placed in a tray or bowl, with the pemican, and eaten 
 together ; which we civilized folks in these regions consider a very good 
 substitute lor (and indeed we generally so denominate it) " bread and 
 butter." In this dish laid a spoon made of the buffalo's horn, which was black 
 as jet, and beautifully polished ; in one of the others there was another of 
 still more ingenious and beautiful workmanship, made of the horn of the 
 mountain-sheep, or " Gros corn," as the French trappers call them ; it was 
 large enough to hold of itself two or three pints, and was almost entirely 
 transparent. 
 
 I spoke also of the earthen dishes or bowk in which tnese viunds were 
 served out ; they are a familiar part of the culinary furniture of every 
 Mandan lodge, and are manufactured by the women of this tribe in great 
 quantities, and modelled into a thousand forms and tastes. They are made 
 by the hands of the women, from a tough black clay, and baked in kilns 
 which are made for the purpose, and are nearly equal in hardness to our 
 own manufacture of pottery ; though they have not yet got the art of glazing, 
 which would be to them a most valuable secret. They make them so strong 
 and serviceable, however, that they hang them over the fire as we do our iron 
 pots, and boil their meat in them with perfect success. I have seen some 
 few specimens of such manufacture, which have been dug up in Indian 
 mounds and tombs in the southern and middle states, placed in our Eastern 
 Museums and looked upon as a great wonder, when here this novelty is at 
 once done away with, and the whole mystery ; where women can be seen 
 handling and using them by hundreds, and they can be seen every day in 
 the summer also, moulding them into many fanciful forms, and passing 
 them through the kiln where they are hardened. 
 
 Whilst sitting at this feast the wigwam was as silent as death, although we 
 were not alone in it. This chief, like most others, had a plurality of wives, 
 and all of them (some six or seven) were seated around the sides of the 
 lodge, upon robes or mats placed upon the ground, and not allowed to speak, 
 though they were it readiness to obey his orders oi commands, which were 
 uniformly given by signs-manual, and executed in the neatest and most 
 silent manner. 
 
 When I arose to return, the pipe through which we had smoked was 
 presented to me ; and tlie robe on which I had sat, he gracefully raised by 
 the corners and tendered it to me, explaining by signs that the paintings 
 
117 
 
 uliich were on it were t\n^ representations of the battles of his life, wheie he 
 had fought and killed with his own hand fourteen of his enemies ; that he 
 had been two weeks engaged in painting it for me, and that he had invited 
 rae here on this occasion to present it to me. The robe, readers, which I 
 shall describe in a future epistle, I took upon my shoulder, and he took me 
 by the arm and led me back to my painting-room. 
 
\ .']' 
 
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 I 11. 1 
 
 LETTER— No. 17. 
 
 AIANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 I MEMTiONED in the foregoing epistle, that the chiefs of the Mandaus 
 frequently have a plurality of wives. Such is tlie custom amongst all oi' 
 these North Western tribes, and a few general remarks on this subject will 
 apply to them all, and save the trouble of repeating them. 
 
 Polygamy is countenanced amongst all of the North American Indians, so 
 far as I have visited them ; and it is no uncommon thing to find a chief with 
 six, eight, or ten, and some with twelve or fourteen wives in his lodge. Such 
 is an ancient custom, and in their estimation is right as well as necessary. 
 Women in a savage state, I believe, are always held in a rank inferior to 
 that of the men, in relation to whom in many respects they stand rather in 
 the light of menials and slaves than otherwise ; and as they are the " hewers 
 of wood and drawers of water," it becomes a matter of necessity for a chief 
 (who must be liberal, keep open doors, and entertain, for the support of his 
 popularity) to have in his wigwam a sufficient number of such handmaids or 
 menials to perform the numerous duties and drudgeries of so large and ex- 
 pensive an establishment. 
 
 There are two other reasons for this custom which operate with equal, if 
 not with greater force than the one above assigned. In the first place, 
 these people, though far behind the civilized world in acquisitiveness, have 
 still more or less passion for the accumulation of wealth, or, in other words, 
 for the luxuries of life ; and a chief, excited by a desire of this kind, together 
 with a wish to be able to furnish his lodge with something more than 
 ordinary for the entertainment of his own people, as well as strangers who 
 fall upon his hospitality, sees fit to marry a number of wives, who are 
 kept at hard labour during most of the year ; and the avails of that 
 labour enable him to procure those luxuries, and give to his lodge the 
 appearance of respectability whi^h is not ordinarily seen. Amongst those 
 tribes who trade with the Fur Companies, this system is carried out to 
 a great extent, and the women are kept for the greater part of the year, 
 dressing buffalo robes and other skins for the market ; and the brave 
 or chief, who has the greatest number of wives, is considered the most 
 affluent and envied man in the tribe; for his table is most bountifully 
 supplied, and his lodge the most abundantly furnished with the luxuries 
 
 V\ iJ 
 
119 
 
 of civilized manufacture, who has at the year'« eu'' the greatest number 
 of rohes to vend to the Fur Company. 
 
 The manual labour amongst savages is all done by the women ; and as 
 tlicrc are no daily labourers or persons who will '^hire out" to labour for 
 another, it becomes necessary for him who requires more than the labour or 
 services of one, to add to the number by legalizing and compromising by 
 the ceremony of marriage, his stock of labourers ; who can thus, and thus 
 alone, be easily enslaved, and the results of their labour turned to good 
 account. 
 
 There is yet the other inducemen , which probably is more effective than 
 eillier ; the natural inclination which belongs to man, who stands high in 
 the estimation of his people and wields the sceptre of {wwer — surrounded 
 by temptations which he considers it would be unnatural to resist, where 
 no law or regulation of society stands in the way of his enjoyment. Such 
 a custom amongsi savage nations can easily be excused too, and we are 
 bound to excuse it, when we behold man in a state of nature, as he was 
 made, following a natural inclination, which is sanctioned by ancient 
 custom and by their religion, without a law or regulation of their 
 society to discountenance it ; and when, at the same time, such an accu- 
 mulation of a man's household, instead of quadrupling his expenses (as 
 would be the case in the civilized world), actually becomes his wealth, 
 as the results of their labour abundantly secure to him all the necessaries 
 anil luxuries of life. 
 
 There are other and very rational grounds on "which the propriety of such 
 a custom may be urged, one of which is as follows : — as all nations of 
 Indians in their natural condition are unceasingly at war with the tribes that 
 are about them, for the adjustment of ancient and never-ending feuds, as 
 well as from a lo\e of glory, to which in Indian life the battle-field is almost 
 tho only road, their warriors are killed off to that extent, that in many 
 instances two and sometimes three women to a man are found in a tribe. 
 In such instances I have found that the custom of polygamy has kindly 
 helped the community to an evident relief from a cruel and prodigious 
 calamity. 
 
 The instances of which I have above spoken, are generally confined to the 
 chiefs and medicine-men ; though there is no regulation prohibiting a poor or 
 obscure individual from marrying several wives, other than the personal 
 difficulties which lie between him and the hand which he wishes in vain to 
 get, for want of sufficient celebrity in society, or from a still more frequent 
 objection, that of his inability (from want of worldly goods) to deal in the 
 customary way with the fathers of the girls whom he would appropriate to 
 his own household. 
 
 There are very few instances indeed, to be seen in these regions, where a 
 poor or ordinary citizen has more than one wife ; but amongst chiefs and 
 braves of great reputation, and doctors, it is common to seo some six or 
 
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 120 
 
 eight living undor one roof, and all apparently quiet and contented; seemingly 
 harmonizing, and enjoying tlie modes of life and treatment that falls to 
 
 their loi,. 
 
 Wives in this country are mostly treated for with the father, as in all 
 instances they are regularly bought and sold. In many cases the bargain 
 IS made with the father alone, without ever consulting the inclinations of the 
 girl, and seems to be conducted on his part as a mercenary contract entirely, 
 where he stands out for the highest price he nan possibly command for her. 
 There are other instances to be sure, where the parties approach each other, 
 and from the expression of a mutual fondness, make their own arrangements, 
 and pass their own mutual vows, which are quite as sacred and inviolable as 
 simdar assurances when made in the c-vilized world. Yet even in such cases, 
 the marriage is never consummated without the necessary form of making 
 presents to the father of the girl. 
 
 It becomes a matter of policy and almost of absolute necessity, for the 
 white men who are Traders in these regions to connect themselves in this 
 way, to one or more of the most influential families in the tribe, which in a 
 measure identifies their interest with that of the nation, and enables them, 
 with the influence of their new family connexions, to carry on successfully 
 their business transactions with them. The young women of the best families 
 only can aspire to such an elevation ; and the most of them are exceedingly 
 ambitious for such a connexion, inasmuch as they are certain of a delightful 
 exemption from the slavish duties that devolve upon them when married 
 under other circumstances ; and expect to be, as they generally are, allowed 
 to lead a life of ease and idleness, covered with mantles of blue and scarlet 
 cloth — with beads and trinkets, and ribbons, in which they flounce and 
 flirt about, the envied and tinselled belles of every tribe. 
 
 These connexions, however, can scarcely be called marriages, for I believe 
 they are generally entered into without the form or solemnizing ceremony 
 of a marriage, and on the part of the father of the girls, conducted purely 
 as a mercenary or business transaction ; in which they are very expert, 
 and practice a deal of shrewdness in exacting an adequate price from a 
 purchaser whom they consider possessed of so large and so rich a stock of 
 the world's goods ; and who they deem abundantly able to pay liberally 
 for so delightful a commodity. 
 
 Almost every Trader and every clerk who commences in the business of 
 this country, speedily enters into such an arrangement, which is done with 
 as little ceremony as he would bargain for a horse, and just as unceremoni- 
 ously do they annul and abolish this connexion when they wish to leave the 
 country, or change their positions from one tribe to another ; at whicli time 
 the woman is left, a fair and proper candidate for matrimony or speculation, 
 when another applicant comes along, and her father equally desirous for 
 another horse or gun, &c. which he can easily command at her second 
 espousal. 
 
;ented; seemingly 
 lent that falls to 
 
 father, as in all 
 :aseg the bargain 
 nclinations of the 
 contract entirely, 
 command for her. 
 roach each other, 
 wn arrangements, 
 and inviolable as 
 ven in such cases, 
 ' form of making 
 
 necessity, for the 
 lemselves in this 
 tribe, which in a 
 id enables them, 
 ^ on successfully 
 r the best families 
 I are exceedingly 
 in of a delightful 
 n when married 
 ally are, allowed 
 blue and scarlet 
 ley flounce and 
 
 ges, for I believe 
 lizing ceremony 
 onducted purely 
 ire very expert, 
 ite price from a 
 rich a stock of 
 to pay liberally 
 
 the business of 
 ch is done with 
 
 as unceremoni- 
 ish to leave the 
 ; at which time 
 
 or speculation, 
 Uy desirous for 
 
 at her second 
 
 121 
 
 From the enslaved and degraded condition in which tlic women are hold 
 ill the Indian country, the world would naturally think that theirs must bo a 
 community formed of inconp:ruou3 and unharmonizing ni itcrials ; and co7i- 
 sequeiitiy destitute of the fine, reciprocal fc'.ings and attachments which 
 flow from the domestic relations in the civiliz-ed world ; yet it would be 
 untrue, and doing injustice to the Indians, to say that tliey were in the least 
 Iteliind us in conjugal, in filial, and in paternal affection. There is no trait 
 in the human character which 's more universal than the altachments which 
 flow from these relations, and there is no part of the human species who 
 have a stronger affection and a higher regard for them than the North 
 American Indians. 
 
 Tiiere is no subject in the Indian character of more importance to be 
 rightly understood than this, and none either that has furnished me more 
 nimierous instances and more striking proofs, of which 1 shall make use on a 
 future occasion, when I sliall say a vast deal more of marriage^-of divorce 
 — of polygamy — and of Indian domestic relaticms. For the present I am 
 scribbling about the looks and usages of the Indians who are about me 
 and under my eye; and I must not digress too much into general remarks, 
 kst I lose sight of those who are near me, and the first to be heralded. 
 
 Such, then, are the Mandans — their women are beautiful and modest,— 
 and amongst the respectable families, virtue is as highly cherished and as iri- 
 approucliable, as in any society whatever ; yet at the same time a chief may 
 marry a dozen wives if he pleases, and so may a white man ; and if either 
 wishes to marry the most beautiful and modest girl in the tribe, she is valued 
 only equal, perhaps, to two horses, a gun with powder and ball for a year, five 
 or six pounds of beads, a couple of gallons of whiskey, and a handful of awls. 
 
 The girls of this tribe, like those of most of these north-western tribes, 
 marry at the age of twelve or fourteen, and some at the age of eleven 
 years ; and their beauty, from this fact, as well as from the slavish life they 
 lead, soon after marriage vanishes. Their occupations are almost continual, 
 and they seem to go industriously at them, as if from choice or inclination, 
 without a murmur. 
 
 The principal occupations of the women in this village, consist in procuring 
 wood and water, in cooking, dressing robes and other skins, in drying 
 meat and wild fruit, and raising corn (maize). The Mandans aie somewhat 
 of agriculturists, as they raise a great deal of corn and some pumpkins and 
 sciuashes. Tiiis is all done by the women, who make their hoes of the 
 shoulder-blade of the buffalo or the elk, and dig the ground over instead of 
 ploughing- it, which is consequently done with a vast deal of labour. They 
 raise a very small sort of corn, the ears of which are not longer than a man's 
 thumb. This variety is well adapted to their climate, as it ripens sooner 
 than other varieties, which would not mature in so cold a latitude. The 
 green corn season is one of great festivity with them, and one of much 
 jnportance. The greater part of their crop is eaten during these festivals, 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
i I 
 
 122 
 
 :' 
 
 ; !,'!! 
 
 and the remainder is gatliorcd and dried on the cob, before it has ripened, 
 and packed away in "caches" (as the French call them), holes duj,' in the 
 ground, some six or seven feet deep, tlie insides of wliicli are somewhat in 
 tlie form of a juif, and tightly closed at the top. The corn, and even dried 
 meat and pcmican, are placed in these caches, being packed tight around 
 the sides, with prairie grass, and effectually preserved through the severest 
 winters. 
 
 Corn and dried meat are generally laid in in the fall, in sufficient quantities 
 to siipjiort tliem through the winter. These are the principal articles of food 
 during that long and inclement season ; and in addition to fhem, they often- 
 times have in store great quantities of dried squashes and dried "pommes 
 blanches," a kind of turnip which grows in great abundance in these 
 regions, and of which I have before spoken. These are dried in great 
 quantities, and pounded into a sort of meal, and cooked with the dried 
 meat and corn. Great quantities aUo of wild fruit of different kinds are 
 dried and laid away in store for the winter season, such as buffalo berries, 
 service berries, strawberries, and wild plums. 
 
 The buffalo meat, however, is the great staple and "staff of life" in this 
 country, and seldom (if ever) fails to afford (hem an abundant and whole- 
 some means of subsistence. There arc. a fair computation, something 
 like '250,000 Indians in these western • -, vho live almost exclusively 
 on the fle.Oi of these animals, through > j part of the year. Durin^jf the 
 summer and fall months they use the meat fresh, and cook it 'n a great 
 variety of ways, by roasting, broiling, boiling, stewing, smoking, «Sfc. ; and 
 by boiling the ribs and joints with the marrow in them, make a delicious 
 soup, which is universally used, and in vast quantities. The Mandans, I 
 Hnd, have no regular or stated times for their meals, but generally eat about 
 twice in the twenty-four hours. The pot is always boiling o"er the fire, and 
 any one who is hungry (either of the household or from any other part of the 
 village) has a right tu order it taken off, and to fall to eating as he pleases. 
 Such is an unvarying custom amongst the North American Indians, and I 
 very much doubt, whether the civilized world have in their institutions any 
 system which can properly be called more humane and charitable. Every 
 man, woman, or child in Indian communities is allowed to enter any one's 
 lodge, and even that of the chief of the nation, and eat when they arc 
 hungry, provided misfortune or necessity has driven them to it. Even 
 so can the poorest and most worthless drone of the nation; if he is toe lazy 
 to hunt or to supply himself, he can walk into any lodge and everyone will 
 share with him as long as there is anything to eat. He, however, who thus 
 begs when he is able to hunt, puys de^u for his meat, for he is stigmatized 
 with the disgraceful epithet of a poltroon and u beggar. 
 
 The Mandans, like all other tribes, sit at their meals cross-legged, or rather 
 with their ancles crossed in front of them, and both feet drawn close under 
 their bodies; or, which is very often the case also, take their meals in a re- 
 
123 
 
 dining jwsUire, with the legs tlirown out, unci tlie body resting on oiin 
 elbow and fore-arm, which are under them. The dishes from which they cat 
 arc invariably on the ground or floor of the lodge, and the group resting on 
 buffalo robes or mats of various structure and manufacture. 
 
 The position in which the women sit at their meals and on other occasions 
 Is different from that of the men, and one which they take and rise from 
 again, with great case and much grace, by merely bending the knees both 
 together, inclining the body back and the head and shoulders quite forward, 
 they squat entirely down to the ground, inclining both feet either to the 
 right or the left. In this position they always rest while eating, and it is 
 l)Oth modest and graceful, for they seem, with apparent ease, to assimie the 
 position and rise out of it, without using their hands in any way to assist 
 them. 
 
 These women, however, although graceful and civil, and ever so beautiful 
 or ever so hungry, are not allowed to sit in the same group with the men 
 while at their meals. So far as I have yet travelled in the Indian country, I 
 never have seen an Indian woman eating with her husband. Men form the 
 first group at the banquet, and women, and children and dogs all come to- 
 gether at the next, and these gormandize and glut themselves to an enormous 
 extent, though the men very seldom do 
 
 It is time that an error on this subject, which has gone generally abroad 
 in the world, was corrected. It is everywhere asserted, and almost univer- 
 sally believed, that the Indians are " enormous eaters ;" but comparatively 
 speaking, I assure my readers that this is an error. I venture to say that 
 there are no persons on earth who practice greater prudence and self-denial, 
 than the men do (amongst the wild Indians), who are constantly in war and 
 in the chase, or in their athletic sports and exercises ; for all of which they 
 are excited by the highest ideas of pride and honour, and every kind of 
 excess is studiously avoided ; and for a very great part of their lives, the 
 most painful abstinence is enforced upon themselves, for the purpose of 
 preparing their bodies and their limbs for these extravagant exertions. 
 Many a man who has been a few weeks along the frontier, amongst the 
 drunken, naked and beggared part of the Indian race, and run home 
 and written a book on Indians, has, no doubt, often seen them eat to 
 Vastly excess; and he has seen them also guzzle whiskey (and perhaps sold 
 it to them) till he has seen them glutted and besotted, without will or 
 energy to move ; and many and thousands of such things can always be 
 seen, where white people have made beggars of them, and they have nothing 
 to do but lie under a fence and beg a whole week to get meat and whiskey 
 enough for one feast and one carouse ; but amongst the wild Indians in this 
 country there are no beggars — no drunkards — and every man, from a beau- 
 tiful natural precept, studies to keep his body and mind in such a healthy 
 shape and condition as will at all times enable him to use his weapons in 
 self-defence, or struggle for the prize in their manly games. 
 
f ;<'. 
 
 m 
 
 As F heroic observed, llicse men generally ciit but twice a day, nml many 
 limes not more tluin once, ami those meals are lij^ht and simple compared 
 with the meals tliat arc swallowed in tiic civilized world ; and by tiie very 
 people also, who sit at the festive board three times a day, making; a jest of 
 the Indian for his eating, when they actually giiz/.lc more licpiids, besides 
 their eatinjr, than would till the stomach of an Indian. 
 
 There are, however, many seasons and occasions in the year with all 
 Indians, when they fast for several days in succession ; and others where 
 they can r/ct nothing to eat ; and at such times (their habits are such) they 
 may be seen to commence with an enormous meal, and because they do so, 
 it is an insufficient reason why we should for ever remain under so egregious 
 an error with reg;t(rd to a single custom of these people. 
 
 I have seen so many of these, and lived with them, and travelled with 
 tliem, and oftentimes felt as if I should starve to death on an equal allow* 
 ance, that I am fully convinced I am correct in saying that the Nortli 
 American Indians, taking them in the aggregate, even where they have an 
 abundance to subsist on, eat less than any civilized population of equal 
 viumbers, that I have ever travelled amongst. 
 
 Their mode of curing and preserving the buffalo meat is somewhat 
 curious, and in fact it is almost incredible also ; for it is all cured or dried 
 in the sun, without the aid of salt or smoke ! The method of doing this is 
 the same amongst all the tribes, from this to the Mexican Provinces, and is 
 as follows : — The choicest parts of the flesh from the butialo are cut out by 
 the squaws, and carried home on their backs or on horses, and there cut 
 " across the grain," in such a manner as will take alternately the layers of 
 lean and fat ; and having prepared it all in this way, in strips about half an 
 inch in thickness, it is hung up by hundreds and thousands of pounds on 
 poles resting on crotches, out of the reach of dogs or wolves, and exposed 
 to the rays of the sun for several days, when it becomes so effectually 
 dried, that it can be carried to any part of the world without damage. This 
 seems almost an unaccountable thing, and the more so, as it is done in the 
 hottest months of the year, and also in all the different latitudes of an 
 Indian country. 
 
 So singular a fact as this can only be accounted for, I consider, on the 
 ground of the extraordinary rarity and purity of the air wliich we meet with 
 in these vast tracts of country, which are now properly denominated " the 
 great buffalo plains," a series of exceedingly elevated plateaus of steppes or 
 prairies, lying at and near the base of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 It is a fact then, which I presume will be new to most of the world, that 
 meat can be cured in the sun without the aid of smoke or salt ; and it is a 
 fact equally true and equally surprising also, that none of these tribes use 
 salt in any way, although their country abounds in salt springs ; and in many 
 places, in the frequent walks of the Indian, the prairie may be seen, for 
 miles together, covered with an iacrustation of salt as white as the driftedsnow. 
 
m 
 
 1 liavc, in travelling with Indians, encamped by such places, wlioie they 
 have cooked and eutcn their nieut, when 1 have been unable to |irc;vail on 
 them to use salt in any quantity whatever. The Indians cook tlieir meat 
 more than llie civilized people do, and 1 have long since learned, tVoin 
 necessity, that n\eat thus cooked can easily be eaten and relished too, with- 
 out salt or other condiment. 
 
 The fact above asserted applies exclusively to those tribes of Indians 
 which I have found in their piiniiiive slate, livinjj; entirely on meat ; but 
 everywhere along our Frontier, where the game of the country lias long since 
 oeen chiefly destroyed, and these people have become semi-civilized, raising 
 and eating, as we do, a variety of vegetable food, tliey use (and no doubt 
 require), a great deal of salt ; and in many instances use it even to destruc- 
 tive excess. 
 
12fl 
 
 LKTTEU— No. 18. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAOK, I I'TKR IVIISSOUUI. 
 
 The Manilans, like all otlicr tribes, lead lives of idleness and leisure; 
 iiiid of course, devote a great deal of time to their sports and atniisement*, 
 of which they have a great variety. Of tliese, dancing is one of the princi- 
 pal, and may be seen in a variety of forms : such as the buffalo dance, the 
 boasting dance, the begging dance, the scalp dance, and a dozen other 
 kinds of dances, all of which have their peculiar cUaracters and meaning* 
 or objects. 
 
 These exercises ore exceedingly grotesque in their appearance, and to ilia 
 eye of a traveller who knows not their meaning or importance, they are an 
 uncouth and frightful display of starts, and jumps, and yelps, and jarring 
 gutturals, which are sometimes truly terrifying. But when one gives them 
 a little attention, and has been lucky enough to be initiated into their mys- 
 terious meaning, they become a sul)ject of the most intense and exciting 
 interest. Every dance has its peculiar step, and every step has its meaning ; 
 every dance also has its peculiar song, and that is so intricate and mys- 
 terious oftentimes, that not one in ten of the young men who are dancing and 
 singing it, know the meaning of the song which they are chanting over. None 
 but the medicine-men are allowed to understand them ; and even they are 
 generally only initiated into these secret arcana, on the payment of a liberal 
 stipend for their tuition, which requires much application and study. Tiiere 
 is evidently a set song and sentiment for every dance, for the songs are 
 perfectly measured, and sung in exact time with the beat of the drum ; and 
 always with an uniform and invariable set of sounds end expressions, wliich 
 clearly indicate certain sentiments, which are expressed by the voice, though 
 sometimes not given in any known language whatever. 
 
 They have other dances and songs which are not so mystified, but which 
 are sung and understood by every person in the tribe, being sung in their 
 own language, with much poetry in them, and perfectly melred, but without 
 rhyme. On these subjects I shall take another occasion to say more ; and 
 will for the present turn your attention to the style and modes in which 
 some of these curious transactions are conducted. 
 
 My ears have been almost continually ringing since I came here, with 
 the din of yelping and beating of the drums ; but I have for several days 
 
L'7 
 
 pABt \Hiet\ |)criiliiuly onf^rosscd, and my tctiitCH iilinost ronfoniuled witli the 
 Klanipiii^, and ^riiiitiii^, and liclluwin.; of tlio litiffdln dunce, \vlii( li < loscd u 
 I'i'W days imcv at iiinriAo (^lli.ink llo.ivcn), and wliicli I niust iiccdn dL'«(-rll)o 
 lo yuii. 
 
 HidValof*, it is known, are a sort of roamint; creatiirci, congroj-atin'j; or- 
 ('n<ii(inully in IiU(,m> nmsAcs, and strolling away uhout tlie country (Votn oast 
 ',0 Wfst, or tVonj nortli to south, or just whtue ihi'ir wliinis or strange fa.icits 
 may loud them ; nnd the Manthins arc sometimes, by tliis means, most un- 
 cercnutiiiously h'ft without a. ly thing to eat; and Ining a small tribe, and 
 unwilling to risk their lives by going far from home in the face of their 
 more powerful enemies, ore oflentinus h'ft almost in a state of starvation. 
 In any emergency of this kind, every man nmstcrs and brings out of his 
 lodge his mask (the skin of a buli'alo's head with the horns on), which he 
 is obliged to keep in readiness for this occasion ; and then commences the 
 hiiftalo dance, of which I have above spoken, which ii held for the purpose 
 of making " buffalo come" (as tliey term it), of inducing Ihc buftalo herds 
 to change the direction of their wanderings, and bend thfir course towards 
 the Mandan village, and graze about on the beautifid hills and bluH's in its 
 vicinity, where the Mandans can shoot them !"wn and cook them as they 
 want them for food. 
 
 For the most part of the year, the young warriors and hunters, by riding 
 out a mile or two from the village, can kill meat in abundance ; and some- 
 times large herds of these animals may bo seen grazing in full view of the 
 village. There are other seasons also when the young men have ranged 
 about the country as far as they are willing to risk their lives, on uecount 
 of their enemies, without finding meat. This sad intelligence is brought 
 back to the chiefs and doctors, who sit in solemn council, and consult on 
 the most expedient measures to be taken, until they are sure to decide upon 
 the old and only expedient which " never has failed." 
 
 The chief issues his order to his runners or criers, who proclaim it through 
 the village — and in a few minutes the dance begins. The place where this 
 strange operation is carried on is in the public area in the centre of the 
 village, and in front of the great medicine or mystery lodge. About ten or 
 fifteen Mandans at a time join in the dance, each one with the skin of the 
 buftalo's head (or mask) with the horns on, placed over his head, and 
 in his hand his favourite bow or lance, wilh which he is used to slay the 
 buflfiilo. 
 
 I mentioned that this dance always had the desired effect, that it never 
 fails, nor can it, for it cannot be stopped (but is going incessantly day and 
 night) until " buffalo cotne." Drums are beating and rattles are shaken, 
 and songs and yells incessantly are shouted, and lookers-on stand ready 
 with masks on their heads, and weapons in hand, to take the place of each 
 nne as he becomes fatigued, and jumps out of the ring. 
 
 During this time of general excitement, spies or " lookers" are kept on the 
 
128 
 
 »ji 
 
 l^^ 
 
 ^'■- 
 
 hills in the neighbourhood of the village, who, when they discover buffaloes 
 in sight, give the appropriate signal, by " throwing their robes," which is 
 instantly seen in the village, and understood by the whole tribe. At this 
 joyful intelligence there is a shout of thanks to the Great Spirit, and more 
 especially to the mystery-man, and the dancers, who have been the im- 
 mediate cause of their success ! There is then a brisk preparation for the 
 chase — a grand hunt takes place. The choicest pieces of the victims are 
 sacrificed to the Great Spirit, and then a surfeit and a carouse. 
 
 These dances ha', e sometimes been continued in this village two and three 
 weeks without stopping an instant, until the joyful moment when buffaloes 
 made their appearance. So they never fail; and they think they have been 
 the means of bringing them in. 
 
 Every man in tiie Mandan village (as I have before said) is obliged by a 
 village regulation, to keep the mask of the buffalo, hr.nging on a post at the 
 head of his bed, which he can use on his head whenever he is called ■poii 
 by the chiefs, to da'T'j tor the coming of buffaloes. The mask is put ovei 
 the head, and generally has a strip of tlie skin hanging to it, of the whole 
 length of the animal, with the tail attached to it, which, passing down over 
 the back of the dancer, is dragging on tie ground (plate 56). When one 
 becomes fatigued of the exercise, he signifies it by bending quite forward, 
 and sinking his body towards the ground ; when another draws a bow upon 
 him and hits him with a blunt arrow, and he falls like a buffalo — is seizpd 
 by the bye-standers, who drag him out of the ring by the heels, brandishing 
 their knives about him ; and having gone through the motions of skinning 
 and cutting him up, they let him off, and his place is at once supplied by 
 another, who dances into the ring v/ith his mask on ; and by this taking of 
 places, the scene is easily kept up night and day, until the desired effect 
 has been produced, that of " making buffalo come." 
 
 The d.iy before yesterday however, readers, which, though it commenced 
 in joy and thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for the signal success which had 
 attended their several days of dancing and supplication, ended in a calamity 
 which threw the village of the Mandans into mourning and repentant tears, 
 and that at a time of scarcity f>nd great distress. The signal was given into 
 the village on that morning from the top of a distant bluff, that a band of 
 buffaloes were in sight, though at a considerable distance off, and every heart 
 beat with joy, and every eye watered and glistened with gladness. 
 
 The dance had lasted some three or four days, and now, instead of the 
 doleful tap of the drum and the begging chaunts of the dancers, t!ie stamp- 
 i' g of horses was heard as they were led and galloped through the village — 
 young incu were throwing off their robes and their shirts,— were seen 
 snatching a handful of arrows from their quivers, and stringing their sinewy 
 bows, glancing their eyes and their smiles at their sweethearts, and mounting 
 their ponies. • • » 
 
 • • A few minutes there had been of bustle anil 
 
 H 
 
isoover buffaloes 
 • robes," which is 
 ! tribe. At this 
 Spirit, and more 
 ive been the im~ 
 jparation for the 
 f the victims are 
 iiise. 
 
 ge two and three 
 it wiien buffaloes 
 k they have been 
 
 I is obliged by a 
 on a post at the 
 he is called ■poii 
 nask is put ovei 
 it, of the whole 
 assing down over 
 56). When one 
 ng quite forward, 
 raws a bow upon 
 •uffalo — is seizpd 
 leels, brandishing 
 tions of skinning 
 3nce supplied by 
 by this taking of 
 le desired effect 
 
 it commenced 
 
 iccess which had 
 
 ed in a calamity 
 
 repentant tears, 
 
 al was given into 
 
 that a band of 
 
 and every heart 
 
 ness. 
 
 w, instead of the 
 
 cers, the stamp- 
 
 gh the village — • 
 
 rts,— were seen 
 
 ing their sinewy 
 
 , and mounting 
 
 n of bustle and 
 
i*if. 
 
 t ! 
 
 \i >^ 
 
ISO 
 
 boasting, whilst bows were twanging and spears were polishing by running 
 tlieir blades into the ground — every face and every eye was filled witli joy 
 and gladness — horses were pawing and snuffing in fury for the outset, when 
 Louison Frenie, an interpreter of the Fur Company, galloped through the 
 village with his rifle in his hand and his powder-horn at his side ; his head 
 and waist were bandaged with handkerchiefs, and his shirt sleeves rolled up 
 to his shoulders — the hunter's yell issued from his lips and was repeated 
 through the village ; he flew to the bluffs, and behind him and over the 
 graceful swells of the prairie, galloped the emulous youths, whose hearts 
 were beating high and quick for the onset. 
 
 In the village, where hunger had reigned, and starvation was almost ready 
 to look them in the face, all was instantly turned to joy and gladness. Tlje 
 cliiifs and doctors who had been for some days dealing out minimum rations 
 to the community from the public crib, now spread before their subjects the 
 contents of their own private caches, and the last of eve-y thing that 
 could be mustered, that diey might eat a thanksgiving to the Great Spirit 
 for his goodness in sending them a supply of buflfalo meat. A general 
 rtirouse of banqueting ensued, which occupied the greater part of the day ; 
 and their hidden stores which might have fed an emergency for several weeks, 
 were pretty nearly used up on the occasion — bones were half picked, and 
 dishes half emptied and then handed to the dogs. / was not forgotten 
 neither, in the general surfeit ; several large and generous wooden bowls of 
 pemican and other palatable food were sent to my painting-room, and I 
 received them in this time of scarcity with great pleasure. 
 
 After this general indulgence was over, and the dogs had licked the 
 dishes, their usual games and amusements ensued — and hilarity and mirth, 
 and joy took possession of, and reigned in, every nook and corner of the 
 village ; and in the midst of this, screams and shrieks were heard ! and 
 echoed everywhere. Women and children scrambled to the tops of their 
 wigwams, with their eyes and their hands stretched in agonizing earnest- 
 ness to the prairie, whilst blackened warriors ra" furiously through every 
 winding maze of the village, and issuing their jarring gutturals of vengeance, 
 as they snatched their deadly weapons from their lodges, and struck the 
 reddened post as they furiously passed it by ! Two of their hunters were 
 bending their course down the sides of the bluff towards the village, and an- 
 other broke suddenly out of a deep ravine, and yet another was soen dashing 
 over and down the green hills, and all were goading on their horses at full 
 speed ! and then came another, and another, and all entered the village amid 
 shouts and groans of the villagers who crowded around them ; the story was 
 told in their looks, for one was bleeding, and the blood that flowed from his 
 naked breast had crimsoned his milk white steed as it had dripped over him ; 
 another grasped in his left hand a scalp that was reeking in blood — and in 
 tlie other his wiiip— another grasped nothing, save the reins in one hand and 
 the mane of the horse in the other, having thrown his bow and his arrows 
 
 TOL. I. » 
 
 
130 
 
 ;J 
 
 i>^ 
 
 ii! 'J 
 
 away, and trusted to the fleetness of his horse for his safety ; yet the story 
 was audibly told, and the fatal tragedy recited in irregular and almost suiTo- 
 eating ejaculations — the names of the dead were in turns pronounced and 
 screams and shrieks burst forth at their recital — murmurs and groans ran 
 through the village, and this happy little community were in a moment 
 smitten with sorrow and distraction. 
 
 Their proud band of hunters who had started full of glee and mirth 
 
 in 
 
 the 
 
 morning. 
 
 had 
 
 been surrounded by their enemy, the Sioux, and 
 eight of them killed. The Sioux, who had probably reconnoitred their 
 village during the night, and ascertained that they were dancing for 
 buffaloes, laid a stratagem to entrap them in the following manner : — Some 
 six or eight of them appeared the next morning (on a distant bluff, in sight 
 of their sentinel) under the skins of buffaloes, imitating the movements of 
 those animals whilst grazing ; and being discovered by the sentinel, the 
 intelligence was telegraphed to the village, which brought out their hunters 
 as I have described. The masked buffaloes were seen grazing on the top of 
 a high bluff, and when the hunters had approached within half a mile or so 
 of them, they suddenly disappeared over the hill. Louison Frenie, who was 
 leading the little band of hunters, became at that moment suspicious of so 
 strange a movement, and came to a halt « * * 
 
 * •* Look" ! (said a Mandan, pointing to a little ravine to the right, and at 
 the foot of the hill, from which suddenly broke some forty or fifty furious 
 Sioux, on fleet horses and under full whip, who were rushing upon them) ; 
 they wheeled, and in front of them came another band more furious from 
 the other side of the hill ! they started for home (poor fellows), and strained 
 every nerve ; but the Sioux were too fleet for them ; and every now and 
 then, the whizzing arrow and the lance were herd to rip the flesh of their 
 naked backs, and a grunt and a groan, as they tumbled from their horses. 
 Several miles were run in this desperate race ; and Frenie got home, and 
 several of the Maudans, though t'ght of them were killed and scalped by 
 the way. 
 
 So ended that day and the hunt ; but many a day and sad, will last the 
 grief of those whose hearts were broken on that unlucky occasion. 
 
 This day, though, my readers, has been one of a more joyful kind, for 
 the Great Spirit, who was indignant at so flagrant an injustice, has sent the 
 Mandans an abundance of buffaloes ; and all hearts have joined in a general 
 thanksgiving to Him for his goodness and justice. 
 
 I J 
 
ty ; yet the story 
 
 tud almost sufTo- 
 
 pronounced and 
 
 and groans ran 
 
 re in a moment 
 
 ' glee and mirth 
 the Sioux, and 
 iconnoitred their 
 ere dancing for 
 manner : — Some 
 nt bluff, in sight 
 le movements of 
 the sentinel, the 
 lut their hunters 
 ing on the top of 
 half a mile or so 
 Frenie, who was 
 suspicious of so 
 * • 
 
 the right, and at 
 ^ or fifty furious 
 ing upon them) ; 
 iiore furious from 
 fis), and strained 
 i every now and 
 le flesh of their 
 rom their horses, 
 e got home, and 
 and scalped by 
 
 sad, will last the 
 casion. 
 
 joyful kind, for 
 ice, has sent the 
 lined in a general 
 
131 
 
 LETTER— No. 19. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 In ny last Letter I gave an account of the buffalo dance, and in future 
 epistles may give some descriptions of a dozen other kinds of dance, w]iich 
 these people have in common with other tribes; but in the present Letter I 
 sliall make an endeavour to confine my observations to several other customs 
 and forms, which are very curious and peculiar to the Mandans. 
 
 Of these, one of the most pleasing is the sham-Jight and sham scalp-dance 
 of the Mandan boys, which is a part of their regular exercise, and consti- 
 tutes a material branch of their education. During the pleasant mornings 
 of the summer, the little boys between the age of seven and fifteen are 
 called out, to the number of several hunded, and being divided into two 
 companies, each o'' which is headed by somt experience " warrior, who leads 
 them on, in the ch;i;.ivf.er of a teacher ; they are led out into the prairie at 
 sunrise, where this curious discipline is regularly taught them (plate 57). 
 Their bodies are naked, and each one has ;i Utile bow in his left hand and a 
 number of arrows made of large spears of grass, which are harmless in their 
 effects. Each one has also a little belt or girdle around his waist, in which 
 he carries a knife made of a piece of wood and equally harmless — on the 
 tops of their heads are slightly attached small tufts of grass, which answer 
 as scalps, and in this plight, they follow the dictates of their experienced 
 leaders, who lead them through tho judicious evolutions of Indian warfare — 
 of feints — of retreats — of attacks-— and at last to a general fight. Many 
 manoeuvres are gone through, ard eventually they are brought up face to 
 face, within fifteen or twenty feel of each other, with their leaders at their 
 head stimulating them on. Their bows are bent upon each other and their 
 missiles flying, whilst they are dodging and fending them off. 
 
 If any one is struck with an arrow on any vital part of his body, he is 
 obliged to fall, and his adversary rushes up to him, places his foot upon 
 him, and snatching from his belt his wooden knife, grasps hold of his vic- 
 tim's scalp-lock of grass, and making a feint at it with his wooden knife, 
 twitches it off and puts it into his belt, and enters again into the ranks aad 
 front of battle. 
 This mode of training generally lasts an hour or more in the morning, 
 
132 
 
 
 and is performed on an empty stomach, affording them a rigid and whole- 
 some exercise, whilst they are instructed in the important science of war. 
 Some five or six miles of ground are run over during these evolutions, 
 giving suppleness to their limbs and strength to their muscles, which lust and 
 benefit them through life. 
 
 After this exciting exhibition is ended, they all return to their village, 
 where the chiefs and braves pay profound attention to their vaunting, and 
 applaud them for their artifice and valour. 
 
 Those who have taken scalps then step forward, brandishing them and 
 making their boast as they enter into the scalp-dance (in which they are also 
 instructed by their leaders or teachers), jumping and yelling — brandishing 
 their scalps, and reciting their santjuinary deeds, to the great astonishment 
 of their tender aged sweethearts, who are gazing with wonder upon them. 
 
 The games and amusements of these people are in most respects like 
 those of the othertribes, consisting of ball plays — game of the moccasin, of the 
 platter — feats of archery horse-racing, &c. ; and they have yet another, 
 which may be said to be their favourite amusement, and unknown to the other 
 tribes about them. The game of Tchung-kee, a beautiful athletic exercise, 
 which they seem to be almost unceasingly practicing whilst the weather is fair, 
 and tliey have nothing else of moment to demand their attention. This 
 game is decidedly their favourite amusement, and is played near to the 
 village on a pavement of clay, which has been used for that purpose until 
 it has become as smooth and hard as a floor. For this game two champions 
 form their respective parties, by choosing alternately the most famous players, 
 until their recjuisite numbers are made up. Tiieir bettings are then made, 
 and their stakes are held by some of the chiefs or others present The play 
 commences (plate 59) with two (one from each party), who start off upon 
 a trot, abreast of each other, and one of them rolls in advance of them, on 
 the pavement, a little ring of two or three inches in diameter, cut out of a 
 stone ; and each one follows it up with his " tchung-kee" (a stick of six feet in 
 length, with little bits of leather projecting from its sides of an inch or more in 
 length), which he throws before him as he runs, sliding it along upon the ground 
 after the ring, endeavouring to place it in such a position when it stops, that 
 the ring may fall upon it, and receive one of the little projections of leather 
 through it, which counts for game, one, or two, or four, according to the 
 position of the leather on which the ring is lodged. The last winner alwtiys 
 has the rolling of the ring, and both start and throw the tchung-kee together ; 
 if either fails to receive the ring or to lie in a certain position, it is a 
 forfeiture of the amount of the number he was nearest to, and he loses his 
 throw ; when another steps into his place. Tliis game is a very difficult one 
 to describe, so as to give an exact idea of it, unless one can see it played — it 
 is a game of great beauty and fine bodily exercise, and these people become 
 excessively fascinated with it ; often gambling away every thing they possess, 
 aud even sometimes, when everything else was gone, have been known to 
 
 m\ 
 
133 
 
 ittnke their liberty upon the issue of these garnet, offering tliemselves as 
 slaves to their opponents in case they get beaten. 
 
 Feasting and fastiny are important customs observed by the Mandans, 
 as well as by most other tribes, at stated times and for particular purposes. 
 These observances are strictly religious and rigidly observed. There are 
 many of tiicse forms practiced amongst the Mandans, some of which are 
 exceedingly interesting, and important also, in forming a correct estimate 
 of the Indian character ; and I shall at a future period take particular 
 pains to lay them before my readers. 
 
 Sacrijicing is also a religious custOu> with these people, and is performed 
 in many different modes, and on numerous occasions. Of this custom I 
 siiall also speak more fully hereafter, merely noticing at present, some few 
 of the hundred modes in which these offerings are made (o tiie Good and 
 Evil Spirits. Human sacrifices have never been made by the Mandans, nor 
 by ai;y of the north western tribes (so far as I can learn), excepting the 
 Fuwneec of the Platte; who have, undoubtedly, observed such an inhuman 
 practice in former times, though thty have relinquished it of late. The 
 Mandans sacrifice their fingers to t'le Great Spirit, and of their worldly 
 goods, the best and the most costly ; if a horse or a dog, it must be the 
 favourite one; if it is an arrow frcm their quiver, they will select the most 
 perfect one as the most effective p'lft; if it is niciit, it is the choicest piece 
 cut from the bufifalo or other anii ml ; if it is anytiiiiig from the stores of the 
 Traders, it is tiie most costly — i'. ij blue or scarlet cloth, which costs them in 
 this country an enormous prije, and is chiefiy used for the purpose of 
 hanging over their wigwams t J decay, or to cover the scaffolds where rest 
 the bones of their departed rf lations. 
 
 Of these kinds of sacriices there are three of an interesting nature, 
 erected over the great niedicine-lodge in the centre of the village — they 
 consist often or fifteen yirds of blue and black cloth each, purchased from 
 the Fur Company at fifticn or twenty dollars per yard, which are folded up 
 so as to resemble hum.in figures, with quills in their heads and masks on 
 their faces. These singi 'ax 'ooking figures, like "scare croR'A'"(PLATii47), are 
 erected on poles about thirty feet high, over the door of the mystery-lodgo. 
 and there are left to (.ecay. There hangs now by the side of them another, 
 which was added to 'he number a few days since, of the skin of a white 
 buffalo, which will n main there until it decays and falls to pieces. 
 
 This beautiful an 1 costly skin, when its history is known, will furnish a 
 striking proof of tie importance which they attach to these propitiatory 
 offerings. But a few weeks since, a party of Mandans returned from the 
 Mouth of the Yellow Stone, two hundred miles above, with information 
 that a party of B uckfeet were visiting that place on business with the 
 American Fur Company ; and that they had with them a white buffalo robe 
 for sale. This was looked upon as a subject of great importance by the 
 cliiefS; and one worthy of public con,iideration. A white buffalo robe is a 
 
 w 
 
134 
 
 *. 
 
 great curiosity, even in the country of buffaloes, and wU* '>V8 comman<l nn 
 almost incredible price, from its extreme scarcity ; ' ^n, from its bein^; 
 
 the most costly article of traffic in these regions, .a usually converted 
 into a sacrifice, being ottered to the Great Spirit, as the most acceptable 
 gift that can be procured. Amongst the vast herds of bufTuloes which graze 
 on these boundless prairies, there is not one in an hundred thousand, per- 
 haps, that is white; and when such an one is obtained, it is considered 
 great medicine or mystery. 
 
 On the veceipt of the intelligence above-mentioned, the chiefs convened 
 in council, and deliberated on the expediency of procuring the white robe 
 from the Blackfeet ; and also of appropriating the requisite means, and 
 devising the proper mode of procedure for effecting the purchase. At the close 
 of their deliberations, eight men were fitted out on eight of their best horses, 
 who took from the Fur Company's store, on the credit of tlu chiefs, goods 
 exceeding even the value of their eight horses ; and they started for the 
 Mouth of the Yellow Stone, where they arrived iu due time, and made the 
 purchase, by leaving the eight horses and all the goods which they carried ; 
 returning on foot to their own village, bringing home with them tlie white 
 robe, which was looked upon by all eyes of the villagers as a thing that was 
 vastly curious, and containing (as they express it) sometliing of the Great 
 Spirit. This wonderful anomaly laid several days in the chief's lodge, until 
 public curiosity was gratified ; and then it was taken by the doctors or 
 high-priests, and witii a great deal of form and mystery consecrated, and 
 raised on the top of a long pole over the medicine-lodge ; where it now 
 stands in a group with the others, and will stand as an offering to the Great 
 Spirit, until it decays and falls to the ground. 
 
 This Letter, as I promised in its commencement, being devoted to some 
 of the customs peculiar to the Mandans, and all of which will be new to 
 the world, I shall close, after recording in it an account of a laughable 
 farce, which was enacted in this village when I was on my journey up the 
 river, and had stopped on the way to spend a day or two in the Mandan 
 village. 
 
 Readers, did y^u ever hear of " Rain Makers?" If not, sit still, and 
 read on ; but laugh not — keep cool and sober, or else you may laugh in the 
 beginning, and cry at the end of my story. Well, I introduce to you a new 
 character — not a doctor or a high-priest, yet a medicine-man, and one of 
 the highest and most respectable order, a " Rain Maker I" Such dignitaries 
 live in the Mandan nation, aye, and " rain stoppers" too ; and even those 
 also amongst their conjurati, who, like Joshua of old, have even essayed to 
 stop the sun in his course ; but from the inefficiency of their medicine or 
 mystery, have long since descended into insignificance. 
 
 Well, the story begins thus : — The Mandans, as I have said in a former 
 Letter, raise a great deal of corn ; and sometimes a most disastrous drought 
 will be visited on the land, destructive to their promised harvest. Such 
 
V8 command nn 
 1, from its being 
 iially converted 
 nost acceptable 
 3C8 which graze 
 thousand, per- 
 t is considered 
 
 :hiefs convened 
 the white robe 
 Ite means, and 
 je. At tiie close 
 eir best horses, 
 e chiefs, goods 
 
 started for the 
 , and made the 
 h they carried ; 
 hem the white 
 thing that was 
 J of the Great 
 f's lodge, until 
 the doctors or 
 nsecrated, and 
 
 where it now 
 g to the Great 
 
 jvoted to some 
 ill be new to 
 f a laughable 
 ourney up the 
 n the Mandan 
 
 sit still, and 
 y laugh in the 
 to you a new 
 , and one of 
 ch dignitaries 
 id even those 
 'en essayed to 
 r medicine or 
 
 d in a former 
 trous drought 
 irvest. Sucli 
 
136 
 
 was the CMC wlicn I arrived nt the Mandan village on the stcam-hoat, 
 Yellow-Stone. Rain had not fallen for many a day, and the dear little 
 girls and the ugly old squaws, altogether (all of whom had fields of corn), 
 were groaning and crying to their lords, and imploring them to intercede for 
 rain, that their little respective patches, which weic now turning pale and 
 yellow, might not bo withered, and they bo deprived of the pleasure of their 
 customary annual festivity, and the joyful occasion of the *' roasting ears," 
 and the " green corn dance." 
 
 The chiefs and doctors sympathized with the plaints of the women, and 
 recommended patience. Great deliberation, they said, was necessary iti 
 these cases ; and though they resolved on making the attempt to produce 
 rain for the benefit of the corn ; yet they very wisely resolved Uiat to begin 
 too soon might ensure their entire defeat in the endeavour ; and that the 
 longer they put it off, the more certain they would feel of ultimate success. 
 So, after a few days of further delay, when the importunities of the women 
 had become clamorous, and even mournful, and almost insupportable, the 
 medicine-men assembled in the council-house, with all their mystery ap- 
 |)aratus about them — with an abundance of wild sage, and other aromatic 
 herbs, with a fire prepared to burn them, that their savoury odours might be 
 sent forth to tlie Great Spirit. The lodge was closed to all the villagers, 
 except some ten or fifteen young men, who were willing to hazard the 
 dreadful alternative of making it rain, or sntTer the everlasting disgrace of 
 having made a fruitless essay. 
 
 They, only, were allowed as witnesses to the hocus pocus and conjuration 
 devi-ed by the doctors inside of the medicine-lodge ; and they were called 
 up by lot, each one in liis turn, to spend a day upon the top of the lodge, 
 to test the potency of his medicine ; or, In other words, to sec how far his 
 voice might be heard and obeyed amongst the clouds of the heavens ; whilst 
 the doctors were burning incense in the wigwam below, and with their songs 
 ond prayers to the Great Spirit for success, were sending forth grateful 
 fumes and odours to Him " who lives in the sun and commands the thun- 
 ders of Heaven." Wah-kee (the shield) was the first who ascended the 
 wigwam at sunrise ; and he stood all day, and looked foolish, as hi, was 
 counting over and over his string of mystery-beads — the whole village were 
 assembled around him, and praying for his success. Not a cloud appeared 
 — the day was calm and hot ; and at the setting of the sun, he descended 
 from the lodge and went home — "his medicine was not good," nor can lia 
 ever be a medicine-man. 
 
 Om-pah (the elk) was the next ; he ascended the lodge at sunrise the 
 next morning. His body was entirely naked, being covered with yellow 
 clay. On his left arm he carried a beautiful shield, and a long lance in his 
 right ; and on his head the skin of a raven, the bird that soars amidst the 
 clouds, and above the lightning's glare — he flourished his shield and bran- 
 dished his lance, and raised his voice, but in vain ; for at sunset the ground 
 
it 
 
 136 
 
 v/as dry and tlio sky was clear ; the squaws were crying, and their corn wan 
 withering at its roots. 
 
 War-ruh-pa (the beaver) was the next ; ho also spent his breath in vain 
 upon the en.pty air, and came down at night— and Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (the 
 white buffalo's hair) took the stand the next morning. He is a small, but 
 beautifully proportioned young man. He was dressed in a tunic and lesr- 
 gings of the skins of the mountain-sheep, splendidly garnished with «piiils 
 of the porcupine, and fringed with locks of hair taken by his own hand from 
 the heads of his enemies. On his arm he carried his shield, made of the 
 buffalo's hide — its boss was tlic head of the war-eagle — and its front was 
 ornamented with " red chains of lightning." In his left hand he clenched 
 his sinewy bow and one single arrow. The villagers were all gathered 
 about him ; when he threw up a feather to decide on the course of the 
 wind, and he commenced thus: — " My friends! people of the pheasants! 
 you see me here a sacrifice — I shall tliis day relieve you from great distress, 
 and bring joy amongst you ; or I shall descend from this lodge when the 
 sun goes down, and live aniongs the dogs and old women all my days. My 
 friends ! you saw which way the feather flew, and I liold my shield this day 
 in the direction where the wind comes — the liglitning on my shield will draw 
 a great cloud, and this arivnv, which is selected from my quiver, and which 
 is feathered with the quill of the white swan, will make a hole in it. My 
 friends ! this hole in the lodge at my feet, shows me the medicine-men, who 
 are seated in the lodge below me and crying to the Great Spirit ; ar^d 
 through it comes and passes into my nose delightful odours, which you see 
 rising in the smoke to the Great Spirit above, who rides in the clouds and 
 commands the winds ! Three days they have sat here, my friends, and 
 nothing has been done to relieve your distress. On the first day was Wah- 
 kee (the shield), he could do nothing ; he counted Lis beads and came 
 down — his medicine was not good — his name was bad, and it kept off the 
 rain. The next was Om-pah (the elk) ; on his head the raven was seen, 
 who flies above the storm, and he failed. War-rah-pa (the beaver) was the 
 next, my friends ; the beaver lives under the water, and he never wants it 
 to rain. My friends ! I see you are in great distress, and nothing has yet 
 been done ; this shield belonged to my father the White Buffalo; and the 
 lightning you see on it is red ; it was taken from a black cloud, and that 
 cloud will come over us to-day. I am the white buffalo's hair — and 1 am 
 the son of my father." 
 
 In this manner flourished and manoeuvred Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (the white 
 buffalo's hair), alternately addressing the audience and the heavens— and 
 holding converse with the winds and the "je-ii" (spirits) that are floating 
 about in them — stamping his foot over the heads of the magi, who were 
 involved in mysteries beneath him, and invoking the spirits of darkness and 
 lig'.it to send rain, to gladden the hearts of the Mandans. 
 
 It happened on this memorable day about noon, that the steam-boat 
 
 i' lis 
 
 ! ' 
 
heir corn was 
 
 le steam-boat 
 
 137 
 
 yellow Stonj, on her first trip up the Missouri River, approached and 
 landed at the Mandan Village, as I have described in a former epistle. I 
 was lucky enough to be a passenger on this boat, and helped to fire a salute 
 of twenty guns of twelve pounds calibre, when we first came in sight of the 
 village, some three or four miles below. These guns introduced a new sound 
 into this strange country, which the Mandans at first suppose i to be 
 thunder ; and the young man upon the lodge, who turned it to good 
 account, was gathering fame in rounds of applause, which were repeated 
 and echoed through the whole village ; all eyes were centred upon him 
 — chiefs envied him — mothers' hearts were beating high whilst they were 
 decorating and leading up their fair daughters to offer him in marriage, on 
 his signal success. The medicine-men had left the lodge, and came out to 
 bestow upon him the envied title of " medicine-man," or " doctor," which he 
 had so deservedly won — wreaths were prepared to decorate his brows, and 
 eagle's plumes and calumets were in readiness for him ; his friends were all 
 rejoiced — his enemies wore on their faces a silent gloom and hatred ; and 
 his old sweethearts, who had formerly cast him off", gazed intensely upon 
 him, as they glowed with the burning fever of repentance. 
 
 During all this excitement, Wak-a-dah-ha-hee kept his position, assuming 
 the most commanding and threatening attitudes ; brandishing his shield in 
 the direction of the thunder (plate 58), although there was not a cloud to 
 be seen, until he (poor fellow), being elevated above the rest of the village, 
 espied, to his inexpressible amazement, the steam-boat ploughing its way up 
 the windings of the river below ; puffing her steam from her pipes, and 
 sending forth the thunder from a twelve-pounder on her deck j * * * 
 The White Buffalo's Hair stood motionless and turned pale, he looked 
 awhile, and turned to the chief and to the multitude, and addressed them 
 with a trembling lip — " My friends, we will get no rain ! — there are, you 
 see, no clouds ; but my medicine is great — I have brought a thunder boat ! 
 look and see it ! the thunder you hear is out of her mouth, and the lightning 
 which you see is on the waters !" 
 
 At this intelligence, the whole village flew to the tops of their wigwams, 
 or to the bank of tlie river, from whence the steamer was in full view, and 
 ploughing along, to their utter dismay and confusion. 
 
 In this promiscuous throng of chiefs, doctors, women, children and dogs, 
 was mingled Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (the white buffalo's hair), having descended 
 from his high place to mingle with the frightened throng. 
 
 Dismayed at the approach of so strange and unaccountable an object, the 
 Mandans stood their ground but a few moments ; when, by an oru.,." of the 
 chiefs, all hands were ensconced within the piquets of their village, and all 
 the warriors armed for desperate defence. A few moments brought the 
 boat in front of the village, and all was still and quiet as death ; not a 
 Mandan was to be seen upon the banks. The steamer was moored, and three 
 or four of the chiefs soon after, walked boldly down the bank and on to her 
 
 ▼ OL. I. T 
 
 
 iKl! 
 
i i 
 
 
 
 
 lif -< 
 
 ■i. >' 
 
 138 
 
 deck, with a spear in one liand and tlic calnmet or pipe of peace in the other. 
 The moment they stepped on board they met (to their great surprise and 
 joy) their old friend, Major Sanford, their agent, whicli circiimstanco put 
 an instant end to all their fears. The villagers were soon apprized of the 
 fact, and the whole race of the beautiful and friendly Mandans was paraded 
 on the bank of the river, in front of the steamer. 
 
 The " rain maker," whose apprehensions of a public calamity brought 
 npon the nation by his extraordinary medicine, had, for the better security 
 of his person from apprehended vengeance, secreted himself in some secure 
 place, and was the last to come forward, and the last to be convinced that 
 this visitation was a friendly one from the white people ; and that his 
 medicine had not in the least been instiumental in bringing it about. This 
 information, though received by him with much caution and suspicion, at 
 length gave him great relief, and quieted his mind as to his danger. Yet 
 still in his breast there was a rankling thorn, though he escaped the dreaded 
 vengeance which he had a few moments before apprehended as at hand ; 
 as he had the mortification and disgrace of having failed in his mysterious 
 operations. He set up, however (during the day, in his conversation about 
 the strange arrival), his medicines, as the cause of its approach ; asserting 
 everywhere and to everybody, that he knew of its coming, and that he 
 had by his magic brought the occurrence about. This plea, however, did 
 not get him much audience ; and in fact, everything else was pretty much 
 swallowed up in the guttural talk, and bustle, and gossip about the mysteries 
 of the " thunder-boat ;" and so passed the day, until just at the approach 
 of evening, when the " White Buffalo's Hair" (more watchful of such 
 matters on this occasion than most others) observed that a black cloud had 
 been jutting up in the horizon, and was almost directly over the village ! In 
 an instant his shield was on his arm, and his bow in his hand, and he again 
 upon the lodge ! stiffened and braced to the last sinew, he stood, with his 
 face and his shield presented to the cloud, and his bow drawn. He drew the 
 eyes of the whole village upon him as he vaunted forth his super-human 
 powers, and at the same time commanding the cloud to come nearer, that he 
 might draw down its contents upon the heads and the corn-fields of the 
 Mandans ! In this wise he stood, waving his shield over his head, stamping 
 liis foot and frowning as he drew his bow and threatened the heavens, com- 
 manding it to rain — his bow was bent, and the arrow drawn to its head, was 
 sent to the cloud, and he exclaimed, " My friends, it is done ! Wak-a-dah- 
 ha-hee's arrow has entered that black cloud, and the Mandans will be wet 
 with the water of the skies !" His predictions were true ; — in a few 
 moments the cloud was over the village, and the rain fell in torrents. He 
 stood for some time wielding his weapons and presenting his shield to the 
 sky, while he boasted of his power and the efficacy of his medicine, to those 
 who had been about him, but were now driven to the shelter of their wig- 
 wami. He, at length, finished his vaunts and his threats, and descended 
 
139 
 
 from his high place (in which he had lieen perfectly drenched), prepared to 
 receive the honours and the homaii;e that were due to one so potent iu his 
 mysteries ; and to receive the style and title of " medicine-man.'' This is 
 one of a hundred different modes in which a man in Indian countries 
 acquires the honourable appellation. 
 
 This man had " made it rain," and of course was to receive more than 
 usual honours, as he had done much more than ordinary men could do. 
 All eyes were upon him, and all were ready to admit that he was skilled in 
 tlie magic art ; and must be so nearly allied to the Great or Evil Spirit, that 
 he must needs be a man of great and powerful influence in the nation, and 
 well entitled to the style of doctor or medicine-mun. 
 
 Readers, there are two facts relative to these strange transactions, w!>icli 
 are infallibly true, and should needs be made known. The first is, that 
 when the Mandans undertake to make it rain, titcy never fail to succeed, 
 for their ceremonies never stop until raiu begins to full. The second is 
 equally true, and is this : — that he who has once " made it rain," never at- 
 tempts it again ; his medicine is undoubted — and on future occasions of the 
 kind, he stands aloof, who bus once done it iu presence of the wb.ole village, 
 giving an opportuuity to other young men who arc ambitious to signalize 
 themselves in the same way. 
 
 During the memorable night of which I have just spoken, the steam-boat 
 remained by the side of the iMandan village, and the rain tliat had com- 
 menced falling continued to pour down its torrents until midnight ; black 
 thunder roared, and livid lightning Hashed until the heavens appeared to be 
 lit up with one unceasing and appalling glare. In this frightful moment of 
 consternation, a flash of lightning buried itself in one of the earth-covered 
 lodges of the Mandans, and killed a beautiful girl. Here was food ana 
 fuel fresh for their superstitions ; and a night of vast tumult and excitement 
 ensued. The dreams of the new-made medicine-man were troubled, and 
 he had dreadful apprehensions for the coming day — for he knew that he was 
 subject to the irrevocable decree of the chiefs and doctors, who canvass 
 every strange and unaccountable event, with close and superstitious scrutiny, 
 and let their vengeance fall without mercy upon its immediate cause. 
 
 He looked upon his well-earned fame as likely to be withheld from him ; 
 and also considered that his life might perhaps be demanded as liio furl'eit for 
 this girl's death, which would certainly be charged upon him. He locKcd upon 
 himself as culpable, and supposed the accident to have been occasioned by 
 his criminal desertion of his post, when the steam-boat was api)roaching the 
 village. Morning came, and he soon learned from some of his friends, the 
 opinions of the wise men ; and also the naluro of tiie tribunal that was 
 preparing for him ; he sent to the prairie for his three horses, which were 
 brought in, and he mounted the medicine-lodije, around which, in a few 
 moments, the villagers were all assembled. " My friends! (said he) I see you 
 all around me, and I am before you ; my medicine, you see, is great — it is 
 

 110 
 
 I 
 
 too great — I am young, and I was too fast — I knew not when to stop. The 
 wigwam of Mah-sish is laid low, aiid many are the eyes that weep for Ko-ka 
 (the antelope ;) Wak-a-dah-ha-hee gives three horses to gladden the hearts 
 of those who weep for Ko-ka ; his medicine was great — his arrow pierced 
 the black cloud, and the lightning came, and the thunder-boat also ! who 
 says the medicine . " Wak-a-dah-ha-hee is not strong ?" 
 
 At the end of this sentence an unanimous shout of approbation ran 
 through the crowd, and the " Hair of the White Buffalo" descended amongst 
 them, wheie he was greeted by shakes of the hand ; and amongst whom 
 he now lives and thrives under the familiar and honourable appellation of 
 the " Bio Doublf Medicine." 
 
 If 
 
141 
 
 LETTER— No. 20. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 This day has been one of unusual mirth and amusement amongst the 
 M andans, and whether on account of some annual celebration or not, I am 
 as yet unable to say, though I think such is the case ; for these people 
 have many days which, like this, are devoted to festivities and amuse- 
 ments. 
 
 Their lives, however, are lives of idleness and ease, and almost all their 
 days and hours are spent in innocent amusements. Amongst a people who 
 have no office hours to attend to — no professions to study, and of whom 
 but very little time is required in the chase, to supply their families with 
 food, it would be strange if they did not practice many games and amuse- 
 ments, and also become exceedingly expert in them. 
 
 I have this day been a spectator of games and plays until I am fatigued 
 with looking on ; and also by lending a hand, which 1 have done ; but with 
 so little success as only to attract general observation, and as generally to 
 excite the criticisms and laughter of the squaws and little children. 
 
 I have seen a fair exhibition of their archery this day, in a favourite 
 amusement which they call the " game of the arrow" (see plate 60), where 
 the young men who are the most distinguished in this exercise, assemble 
 on the prairie at a little distance from the village, and having paid, each one, 
 his "entrance-fee," such as a shield, a robe, a pipe, or other article, step 
 forward in turn, shooting their arrows into the air, endeavouring to see 
 who can get the greatest number flying in the air at one time, thrown 
 from the same bow. For this, the number of eight or ten arrows are 
 clenched in the left hand with the bow, and the first one which is thrown is 
 elevated to such a degree as will enable it to remain the longest time possible 
 in the air, and while it is flying, the others are discharged as rapidly as pos- 
 sible ; and he who succeeds in getting the greatest number up at once, is 
 " best," and takes the goods staked. 
 
 lu looking on at this amusement, the spectator is surprised ; not at the 
 great distance to which the arrows are actually sent ; but at the quickness 
 of fixing them on the string, and discharging them in succession ; which 
 is no doubt, the result of great practice, and enables the most expert 
 
 •!, 
 
142 
 
 u 
 
 
 Vi 
 
 V ,i 
 
 of them to get as many as eight arrows up before the first one reaches the 
 ground. 
 
 For the successful use of the bow, as it is used through all this region of 
 country on horseback, and that invariably at full speed, the great object of 
 practice is to enable the bowman to draw the bow with suddenness r.nd 
 instant effect ; and also to repeat the shots in the most rapid manner. As 
 their game is killed from their horses' backs while at the swiftest rate — and 
 their enemies fought in the same way ; and as the horse is the swiftest ani- 
 mal of the prairie, and always able to bring his rider alongside, within a 
 few paces of his victim ; it will easily be seen that the Indian has little use 
 in throwing his arrow more than a few paces ; when he leans quite low 
 on his horse's side, and drives it with astonishing force, capable of 
 producing instant death to the buffalo, or any other animal in the country. 
 The bows which are generally in use in these regions I have described in a 
 former Letter, and the effects produced by them at the distance of a few 
 paces is almost beyond relief, considering their length, which is not 
 often over three, — and sometimes not exceeding two and a half feet. It can 
 easily be seen, from what has been said, that tiie Indian has little use or 
 object in throwing the arrow to any great distance. And as it is very sel- 
 dom that they can be seen shooting a* a target, I doubt very much 
 whether their skill in such practice would compare with that attained 
 to in many parts of the civilized world ; but with the same weapon, 
 and dashing forward at fullest speed on the wild horse, without the use 
 of the rein, when the shot is required to be made with the most instan- 
 taneous effect, I scarcely think it possible that any people can be found 
 more skilled, and capable of producing more deadly effects with the bow. 
 
 Tlie horses which the Indians ride in this country are invariably the wild 
 horses, which are found in great numbers on the prairies ; and have, un- 
 questionably, strayed from the Mexican borders, into which they were 
 introduced by the Spanish invaders of that country ; and now range and 
 subsist themselves, in winter anf' summer, over the vast plains of prairie 
 that stretch from the Mexican frontiers to Lake Winnipeg on the North, a 
 distance of 3000 miles. These horses are ail of small stature, of the pony 
 order ; but a very hardy and tough animal, being able to perform for tht 
 Indians a continual and essential service. They are taken with the laso, 
 which is a long halter or thong, made of raw-hide, of some fif; jen or twenty 
 yards in length, and which the Indians throw with great dexterity ; with i 
 noose at one end of it, which drops over the head of the animal they wish 
 to catch, whilst running at full speed — when the Indian dismounts from 
 his own horse, and holding to the end of the laso, choaks the animal 
 down, and afterwards tames and converts him to his own use. 
 
 Scarcely a man in these regions is to be found, who is not the owner of 
 one or more of inese horses; and in many instances of eight, ten, or even 
 twenty, which he values as his own personal property. 
 
le reaches the 
 
 this region of 
 jreat object of 
 iddenness f.nd 
 manner. As 
 "test rate — and 
 e swiftest ani- 
 ^side, within a 
 1 has little use 
 ans quite low 
 e, capable of 
 n the country, 
 described in a 
 ance of a few 
 which is not 
 If feet. It can 
 is little use or 
 5 it is very sel- 
 bt very much 
 that attained 
 same weapon, 
 'ithout the use 
 ! most instan- 
 can be found 
 'ith the bow. 
 riably the wild 
 and have, un- 
 ich they wene 
 low range and 
 ains of prairie 
 1 the North, a 
 e, of the pony 
 lerform for the 
 with the laso, 
 f; jen or twenty 
 xterity ; with a 
 limal they wish 
 ismounts from 
 ks the animal 
 
 )t the owner of 
 t, ten, or ever» 
 
t-T 
 
 cc 
 
 
 i 
 
 ill 
 
143 
 
 Tlic Indians arc hard and cruel masters ; and, added to their cruelties is 
 the sin that is familiar in the Christian world, of sporting with (he linihs 
 and the lives of these noble animals. Iforse-rncing here, as in all more 
 ciili)^htcned communities, is one of the most exciting amusements, and one 
 of the most extravau;ant modes of gaml)line;. 
 
 1 have been this day a spectator to scenes of this kind, which have been 
 enacted in abundance, on a course which they have, just back of their 
 village ; and although I never had the least taste for this cruel amusement 
 in my own country, yet, I must say, I have i)cen not a little amused and 
 pleased with the thrilling effect which these exciting scenes have produced 
 amongst so wild and picturesque a group. 
 
 I have made a sketch of the ground and the group, as near as I could 
 (PLA rE 61) ; shewing the manner of " starting" and " coming out," which 
 vary a little from the customs of the knowing world ; but in other respects, 
 I believe, a horse-race is the same all the world over. 
 
 Besides these, many have been the amusements of this day, to which 
 I have been an eye-witness ; and since writing the above, 1 have learned 
 the cause of this unusual expression of hilarity and mirth ; which was no 
 more nor less than the safe return of a small war-party, who had been so 
 long out without any tidings having been received of them — that they had 
 long since been looked upon as sacrificed to the fates of war and lost. 
 This party was mac" 3 up of the most distinguished and desperate young 
 men of the tribe, who had sallied out against the Riccarees, and taken the 
 most solemn oath amongst themselves never to return without achieving a 
 victory. They had wandered long and faithfully about the country, fol- 
 lowing the trails of their enemy ; when they were attacked by a numerous 
 parly, and lost several of their men and all their horses. In this condition, 
 to evade the scrutiny of their enemy, who were closely investing the natural 
 route to their village ; they took a circuitous range of the country, to enable 
 them to return with their lives, to their village. 
 
 In this plight, it seems, I had dropped my little canoe alongside of them, 
 while descending from the Mouth of Yellow Stone to this place, not many 
 weeks since ; where they had bivouacked or halted, to smoke and consult 
 on the best and safest mode of procedure. At the time of meeting them, 
 not knowing anything of their language, they were unable to communicate 
 their condition to me, and more probably were afraid to do so even if they 
 could have done it, from apprehension that we might have given some ac- 
 count of them to their enemies. I rested my canoe an hour or so with them 
 during which time they treated us with an indifferent reserve, yet respectfully ; 
 and we passed on our way, without further information of them or their plans 
 than the sketch that I there made (plate 63), and which I shall preserve 
 and value as one of the most pleasing groups I ever have had the pleasure 
 to see. Seated on their buffalo robes, which were spread upon the grass, 
 with their respective weapons laying about them, and lighting their pipes at a 
 
: '»^ 
 
 lit 
 
 i '\ 
 
 little fire which wan kindled in the ccntre—thc chief or leader of the party, 
 with his arrnn stacked behind him, and his lonir head-dress of war-euglcs' 
 quills and ermine fallinij; duwn over liis back, whilst he sat in a contemplative 
 and almost desponding inuod, was surely one uf the most striking and 
 beautiful illustrations of a natural hero that I ever looked upon. 
 
 Tiiese gallant fellows got safely home to their village, and the numerous 
 expressions of joy for their return, which I have this day witncised, have m 
 much fatigued me that I write brief, and close my Letter here. 
 
 :'•'£. 
 
 m 
 
Uic party, 
 
 mr-eagles' 
 tompliitive 
 iking and 
 
 numerous 
 d, have so 
 
 > 
 
 
t!:» 
 
145 
 
 LETTER— No. 21 
 
 r) ■' 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 In a formci' Letter I gave some account of Mali-to-toli-pa (tlie foiii ''ears), 
 socoikI chief of the Mandans, whom I said I had painted at full lengtli, 
 in a splendid costume. I therein said, also, that " this extraordinary man, 
 thougli second in office, is undoubtedly the first and most popular man in 
 the nation. Free, generous, elegant, and gentlemanly in Iiis deportment — 
 handsome, brave and valiant , wearing a robe on his back, with the historv 
 of all his battles painted on it, which would fill a book of themselves if they 
 were properly enlarged and translated." 
 
 1 gave you also, in another epistle, an account of the manner in which he 
 invited me to a feast in his hospitable wigwam, at the same time presenting 
 me a beautifully garnished robe ; c-..! I promised to say more of him on a 
 future occasion. My readers will therefore pardon me for devoting a Let- 
 ter or two at this time, to a sketch of this extraordinary man, which 1 will 
 give in as brief a manner as possible, by describing the costume in which I 
 jjainted his portrait ; and afterwards reciting the most remarkable incidents 
 of his life, as I had them from the Traders and the Indian agents, and after- 
 wards corroborated by his own words, translated to me as he spoke, whilst 1 
 was writing them down. 
 
 The dress of Mah-to-toh-pa then, the greater part of which I have repre- 
 sented in his full-length portrait, and which I shall now describe, was pur- 
 chased of him after I had painted his picture ; and every article of it can be 
 seen in my Indian Gallery by the side of the portrait, provided I succeed in 
 [getting them home to the civilized world without injury. 
 
 Mah-to-toh-pa had agreed to stand before me for his portrait at an early 
 lour of the next morning, and on that day I sat with my palette of colours 
 prepared, and waited till twelve o'clock, before he could leave his toilette 
 with feelings of satisfaction as to the propriety of his looks and the arrange- 
 ii.ent of his equipments; and at that time it was announced, that " Mah-to- 
 loh-pa was coming in full dress!" I looked out of th^ door of the wig- 
 wam, and saw him approaching with a firm and elastic step, accompanied 
 by a great crowd of women and children, who were gazing on him with 
 admiration, and escorting him to my room. No tragedian ever trod the stage, 
 iior gladiator ever entered the Roman Forum, with more grace and manly 
 dignity than did Mah-to-toh-pa enter the wigwam, where I was in readiness 
 to receive him. He took his attitude before me (it.atk 64), and with the 
 sternness of a Brutus and the stillness of a statue, he stood until the durk- 
 
 voi,. 1. V 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
146 
 
 nesfs of night broke upon the solitary stillnass. His dress, wliich was a very 
 splendid one, was complete in all its parts, and consisted of a shirt or tunic, 
 leggings, moccasins, head-dress, necklace, shield, bow and quiver, lance, 
 tobacco-sack, and pipe; robe, belt, and knife; medicine-bag, tomahawk, 
 and war-club, or po-ko-mo-kon. 
 
 The shirt, of which I have spoken, was made of two skins of the mountain- 
 sheep, beautifully dressed, and sewed together by seams which rested upon 
 the arms ; one skin hanging in front, upon the breast, and the other falling 
 down upon the back ; the head being passed between them, and they falling 
 over and resting on the shoulders. Across each shoulder, and somewhat in 
 the form of an epaulette, was a beautiful band ; and down each arm from the 
 neck to the hand was a similar one, of two inches in widtli (and crossing 
 the other at right angles on the shoulder) beautifully embroidered with por- 
 cupine quills worked on the dress, and covering the seams. To the lower 
 edge of these bands the whole way, at intervals of half an inch, were attached 
 long locks of black hair, which he had taken with his own hand from the 
 heads of his enemies whom he had slain in battle, and which he thus wore 
 as a trophy, and also as an ornament to his dress. The front and back of the 
 shirt were curiously garnished in several parts with porcupine quills and 
 paintings of the battles he had fought, and also with representations of the 
 victims that had fallen by his hand. The bottom of the dress was bound 
 or hemmed with ermine skins, and tassels of ermines' tails were suspended 
 from the arms and the shoulders. 
 
 Tlie Leggings, which were made of deer skins, beautifully dressed, and 
 fitting tight to the leg, extended from the feet to the hips, and were fastened 
 to a belt which was passed around the waist. These, like the shirt, had a 
 similar band, worked with porcupine quills of richest dyes, passing down 
 the seam on the outer part of the leg, and fringed also the whole length of 
 the leg, with the scalp-locks taken from his enemies' heads. 
 
 The Moccasins were of buckskin, and covered in almost every part with 
 the beautiful embroidery of porcupines' quills. 
 
 The Head-dress, which was superb and truly magnificent, consisted of a 
 crest of war-eagles' quills, gracefully falling back from the forehead over the 
 back part of the head, and extending quite down to his feet ; set the whole 
 way in a profusion of ermine, and surmounted on the top of the head, with 
 the horns of the buffalo, shaved thin and highly polished. 
 
 The Necklace was made of fifty huge claws or nails of the grizzly bear, 
 ingeniously arranged on the skin of an otter, and worn, like the scalp-locks, 
 as a trophy — as an evidence unquestionable, that he had contended with 
 and overcome that desperate enemy in open combat. 
 
 \l\s Shield was made of the hide of the buffalo's neck, and hardened with 
 the glue that was taken from its hoofs ; its boss was the skin of a pole-cat, and 
 its edges were fringed with rows of eagles' quills and hoofs of the antelope. 
 
 His Bow was of bone, and as white and beautiful as ivory ; over its back 
 
lich was a very 
 
 I shirt or tunic, 
 
 quiver, lance, 
 
 lag, tomahawk, 
 
 ■ the mountaiii- 
 :h rested upon 
 he other falling 
 and they falling 
 A somewhat in 
 ch arm from the 
 \\ (and crossing 
 idered with por- 
 To the lower 
 li, were attached 
 hand from the 
 ch he thus wore 
 , and back of the 
 pine quills and 
 entations of the 
 dress was bound 
 were suspended 
 
 dly dressed, and 
 id were fastened 
 
 the shirt, had a 
 s, passing down 
 
 whole length of 
 
 , every part with 
 
 t, consisted of a 
 orehead over the 
 et ; set the whole 
 f the head, with 
 
 the grizzly bear, 
 the scalp-locks, 
 contended with 
 
 id hardened with 
 )f a pole-cat, and 
 the antelope. 
 •y ; over its back 
 
• 
 
 itm 
 
( i 
 
 147 
 
 was laid, and firmly attached to it, a coating of deers' sinews, which gave 
 it its elasticity, and of course death to all that stood ininiicaliy before it. 
 Its string was three stranded and twisted of sinews, wiiich mai^ a time had 
 twanged and sent the whizzing death to animal and to human victims. 
 
 Tile Quiver was made of a panther's skin and hung upon his back, 
 charged with its deadly arrows ; some were poisoned and some were not ; 
 they were feathered with hawks' and eagles' quills; some were clean and 
 innocent, and pure, and others were stained all over, with animal and 
 human blood that was driec' upon them. Their blades or points were of 
 ilints, and some of steel ; and -Itogether were a deadly magazine. 
 
 The Lance or spear was held in his left hand ; its blade was two-edged 
 and of polished steel, and the blood of several human victims was se(w dried 
 upon it, one over the other ; its shaft was of the toughest ash, and orna- 
 mented at intervals with tufts of \;ar-eagles' quills. 
 
 His Tobacco-sack was made of the skin of an otter, and tastefully gar- 
 nished with quills of the porcupine; in it was carried his k'nick-k'ucck, 
 (the bark of the red willow, which is smoked as a substitute for tobacco), 
 it contained also i.!s flint and steel, and spunk for lighting 
 
 His Pijye, which was ingeniously carved out of the red steatite (or pipe- 
 stone), the stem of which was three feet long and two inches wide, made from 
 the stalk of the young ash ; about half its length was wound with delicate 
 braids of the porcupine's quills, so ingeniously wrought as to represent figures 
 of men and animals upon it. It was also ornamented with the skins and beaks 
 of wood-peckers* heads, and the hair of the white buffalo's tail. The lower 
 half of the stem was painted red, and on its edges it bore the notches he had 
 recorded for the snows (or years) of his life. 
 
 His Robe was made of the skin of a young buffalo bull, with the fur on 
 one side, and the other finely and delicately dressed ; with all the battles of 
 his life emblazoned on it by his own hand. 
 
 His Belt, which was of a substantial piece of buckskin, was firmly girded 
 around his waist ; and in it were worn his tomahawk and scalping-knife. 
 
 His Medicine-bag was the skin of a beaver, curiously ornamented with 
 hawks' bills and ermine. It was held in his right hand, and his po-ko-mo- 
 kon (or war-club) which was made of a round stone, tied up in a piece of 
 rawhide, and attached to the end of a stick, somewhat in the form of a 
 sling, was laid with others of his weapons at his feet. 
 
 Such was the dress of Mah-to-toh-pa when he entererl my wigwam to 
 stand for his picture ; but such I have not entirely represented it in his por- 
 trait; having rejected such trappings and ornaments as interfered with the 
 grace and simplicity of the figure. He was beautifully and extravagantly 
 dressed ; and in this he was not alone, for hundreds of others are equally 
 elegant. In plumes, and arms, and ornaments, he is not singular ; but in 
 liutrels and wreaths he stands unparalleled. His breast has been bared 
 and scarred in defence of his country, and his brows crowned with honours 
 
 I'l 
 
14.S 
 
 that elevate him conspicuous above all of his nation. There is no man 
 amongst the Mandans so generally loved, nor any one who wears a robe so 
 justly famed and honourable as that o." Mah-to-toh-pa. 
 
 I said his robe was of the skin of a young buffalo bull, and that the 
 battles of Ris life were eniblazor.cd on it; and on a former occasion, that he 
 presented me a beautiful robe, containing all the battles of his life, which 
 he had spent two weeks' time in copying from his original one, which he wore 
 on his shoulders. 
 
 This robe, with his tracings on it, is the chart of his military life ; and 
 when explained, will tell more of Mah-to-toh-pa. 
 
 Some days after tiiis robe was presented, he called upon me with Mr. Kipp, 
 the trader and interpreter for the Mandans, and gave me of each battle there 
 pourtrayed the following history, which was interpreted by Mr. Kipp, from 
 his own lips, and written down by me, as we three sat upon the robe. Mr. 
 Kipp, who is a gentleman of respectability and truth ; and who has lived with 
 these people ten years, assured me, that nearly every one of these narrations 
 were of events that had happened whilst he had lived with them, and had 
 been familiarly known to him ; and that every word that he asserted was true 
 
 And again, reader, in this country where, of all countries I ever was in, 
 men are the most jealous of rank and of stanc-ng; and in a community so 
 small also, that every man's deeds of honour and chivalry are familiarly 
 known to all ; it would not be reputable, or even safe to life, for a warrior 
 to wear upon his back the representations of battles he never had fought ; 
 professing to have done what every child in the village would know he 
 never had done. 
 
 So then I take the records of battles on the robe of Mah-io-tohpa to be 
 matter of historical fact ; and I proceed to give them as I wrote them down 
 from his own lips. Twelve battle-scenes are there represented, where he has 
 contended with his enemy, and in which he has taken fourtoen of their 
 scalps. The groups are drawn according to his own rude ideas of the arts ; 
 and I proceed to describe them in turn, as they were explained to me. 
 
 ivOBE OF MAH-TO-TOH-PA (Plats 65). 
 
 1. Mah-to-toh-pa kills a Sioux chief — the three heads represent the 
 three Riccarees, whom the Sioux chief had previously killed. The Sioux 
 chief is seen with war-paint black on his face. Mah-to-toh-pa is seen with 
 the scalp of the Sioux in one hand, and his knife in the other, wit -. his bow 
 and quiver lying behind him.* 
 
 2. A Shienne chief, who sent word to Mah-to-toh-pa that he wished to 
 fight him — was killed by Mah-to-toh-pa with a lance, in presence of a large 
 
 • Tlie reader witl see in tlate 65, an accurate drawing of this curious robe, vrbich 
 now hangs in the Indian Gallery, and on the following pages, each group numbered, and 
 delineated on a hirger scale, which aro fuc-similes of the drawings on the robe. 
 
.V-) 
 
 ! is no man 
 irs a robe so 
 
 unci that the 
 sion, that he 
 is life, which 
 ;hich he wore 
 
 •ary life ; and 
 
 ,ith Mr. Kipp, 
 ch battle there 
 [r. Kipp, from 
 lie robe. Mr. 
 ) has lived with 
 hese narrations 
 them, and liad 
 serted was true 
 i 1 ever was in, 
 a community so 
 :y are familiarly 
 ife, for a warrior 
 rer had fought ; 
 would know he 
 
 rio-tohpatobe 
 aote them down 
 led, where he has 
 [ourioen of their 
 
 leas of tiie arts ; 
 
 ned to me. 
 
 Jls represent the 
 
 lied. The Sioux 
 
 ..pa is seen with 
 
 [er, wit '. his bow 
 
 lat he wished to 
 [esence of a large 
 
 curious robe, which 
 ^roup numbered, and 
 1 the robe. 
 
 I'i 
 
 '-'■h'lin- 
 
 0;) 
 
«f 
 
 ■ CoAn 
 
v". m 
 
\4\) 
 
 ;».uly of Mandans and Sliiennes. Rlali-to-toli-pa is here known by liis lance 
 with (agios' quills on it. 
 
 3. A Sliicnnc; killed by Maii-to-tob-pa after Muh-to-toli-pu had been left 
 by his party, badly wounded and bleeding; the twenty-five or thirty I'oot- 
 tracks around, represent liie niiuibcr of Shienne., who wero present when 
 the buttle took place ; and the bullets from their (juns represented as Hying 
 all around the head of Muh-to-toli-pa. 
 
 4. Shien'ie chief with war-eagle head-dress, and a beautiful shield, 
 oruuniei'ied with eagles' quills, killed by Mah-to-toh-pa. In this battle the 
 wife I''.' tiie Siiienne rushed forward in a desperate manner to his assistance ; 
 b it arriving too late, fell u victim. In this battle Mah-to-tob-pa obtained 
 two scalps. 
 
 5. Muh-to-toh-pa, with a party of Riccarees, fired at by a party of Sioux; 
 the Riccarces fled — Mah-to-toli-pa dismounted and drove his horse back, 
 facing the eneii.y alone and killing one of them. Rlah-to-tdi-pa is here 
 represented with a beautiful head-dress of war-eagles' quills, and one on his 
 horse's head of equal beauty ; bis shield is on his arm, and the party of 
 Sioux is represented in front of him by the number of horse tracks. 
 
 (j. The brother of Mah-to-toh-pa killed by a Riecaree, who shot him 
 with an arrow, ard then running a lance through his body, left it there. 
 Mah-to-toh-pa was thy. 'rst to find his brother's i)ody with the lance in it : 
 he drew the lance from the body, kept it four years with the blood dried on 
 its blade, and then, according to his oath, killed the same Riecaree with the 
 same lance ; the dead body of his brother is here seen with tlie arrow and 
 lance remaining in it, and the tracks of the Riccarec's horses in front. 
 
 The following was, peihaps, one of the most extraordinary exploits of this 
 remarkable man's life, and is well attested by Mr. Kipp, and several while 
 men, who were living in the Mandan village at the time of its occurrence. 
 In a skirmish, near the Mandan village, when they were set upon by their 
 enemies, the lliccarees, the brother of Mah-to-toh-pu was missing for several 
 days, when Mah-to-toh-pa found the body shockingly mangled, and a 
 handsome spear left piercing the body through the heart. The spear was 
 by him brought into the Mandan village, where it was recognized by many 
 (IS a famous weapon belonging to a noted brave of the Riccarces, by the 
 name of Won-ga-tap. Tliis spear was brandished through the Mandan 
 village by Mah-to-toh-pa (with the blood oT his brother dri^J on its blade), 
 crying most piteously, and swearing that he would some day revenge the 
 death of his brother with the same weapon. 
 
 It is almost an incredible fact, that he kept this spear with great care in 
 his wigwam for the space of four years, in the fruitless expectation of an 
 opportunity to use it upon the breast of its owner ; when his indignant 
 soul, impatient of further delay, burst forth in the most uncontroulable 
 frenzy and fury ; he again brandished it through the village, and said, that 
 the blood of his brother's heart which was seen on its blade wns yet fresh, 
 
150 
 
 and called loudly for revenue. •' Let every Miindan (said he) be silent, and 
 let no one sound the name of Mali-to-loli-pa — let no one ask for him, nor 
 where he has gone, until you hour him sound the war-cry in front of tho 
 villiifo, *hen he will enter it and shew you the lilood of VVon-jfa-tap. 
 Tho l)hule of this lance shall drink the heart's blood of Won-ga-tap, or 
 Mah-to-toh-pa mingles his shadow with that of his brother." 
 
 With this he sullied forth from the village, and over the plains, with the 
 lance in his hand ; his direction was towards the Riccaree village, and all 
 eyes were upon liim, though none dared to speak till he disappeared over 
 the distant grassy blufts. He travelled the distance of two hundred miles 
 entirely alone, with a little parched corn in his pouch, making his marches 
 by night, and laying secreted by days, until he reached the Riccaree village; 
 where (being acquainted with its shapes and its habits, and knowing the 
 position of the wigwam of his doomed enemy) he loitered about in disguise, 
 mingling himself in the obscure throng; and at last, silently and alone, 
 observed through the rents of the wigwam, the last motions and movements 
 of his victim, as he retired to bed with hi^ wife : he saw him light his last 
 pipe and smoke it " to its end" — he saw the last whitf, and saw the last curl 
 of blue smoke that faintly steeped from its bowl — he saw the village 
 awhile in darkness and silence, and the embers that were covered in the 
 middle of the wigwam gone nearly out, and the last flickering light which had 
 been gently playing over them ; when he walked softly, but not slyly, into the 
 wigwam and seated himself by the fire, over which was hanging a large pot, 
 with a quantity of cooked meat remaining in it ; and by the side of the fire, 
 the pipe and tobacco-pouch which had just been used ; and knowing that 
 the twilight of the wigwam was not sufficient to disclose the features of his 
 face to his enemy, he very deliberately turned to the pot and completely 
 satiated the desperate appetite, which he had got in a journey of six or 
 seven days, with little or nothing to eat ; and then, as deliberately, charged 
 and lighted the pipe, and sent (no doubt, in every whiff that he drew 
 through its stem) a prayer to the Great Spirit for a moment longer for the 
 consummation of his design. Whilst eating and smoking, the wife of his 
 victim, while laying in bed, several times enquired of her husband, what 
 man it was who was eating in their lodge ? to which, ho as many times 
 replied, " It's no matter ; let him eat, for he is probably hungry." 
 
 Mah-to-toh-pa knew full well that his appearance would cause no other 
 reply than this, from the dignitary of the nation ; for, from an invariable 
 custom amongst these Northern Indians, any one who is hungry is allowed 
 to walk into any man's lodge and eat. Whilst smoking his last gentle and 
 tremulous whiffs on the pipe, Mah-to-toh-pa (leaning back, and turning 
 gradually on his side, to get a better view of the position of his enemy, and 
 to see a little more distinctly the shapes of things) stirred the embers 
 with his toes (readers, 1 had every word of this from his own lips, and 
 every attitude and gesture acted out with his own limbs), until he saw his 
 
le silent, and 
 for liim, nor 
 front of the 
 VVon-gii-tup. 
 in-ga-tap, or 
 
 lins, with the 
 llage, unci ull 
 ppeared over 
 lundred miles 
 r his marchi'S 
 carec village; 
 knowing the 
 lit in disguise, 
 iy and alone, 
 id movements 
 I light his last 
 w the last curl 
 w the village 
 overed in the 
 ight which had 
 slyly, into the 
 ig a larg« pot, 
 ide of the fire, 
 knowing that 
 features of his 
 nd completely 
 rney of six or 
 ately, charged 
 that he drew 
 longer for the 
 le wife of liis 
 husband, what 
 as many times 
 •ry." 
 
 cause no other 
 an invariable 
 rry is allowed 
 ast gentle and 
 , and turning 
 lis enemy, and 
 the embers 
 own lips, and 
 ntil he saw his 
 
ml, 
 
 Me 
 
 fi, 
 
161 
 
 woy was clear ; at which moment, with his lance in his hands, he rose and 
 drove it through the body of his enemy, and snatching the scalp from his 
 head, he darted from the lodge — and quick as lightning, with tha lance in 
 one hand, and the scalp in the other, made his way to the prairie! The 
 village was in an uproar, but he was off, and no one knew the enemy who 
 had struck the blow. Mah-to-toh-pa ran all night, and lay close during 
 the days ; thanking the Great Spirit for strengthening his heart and his 
 arm to this noble revenge ; and prayed fervently for a continuance of his 
 aid anf* protection till he should get back to his own village. His prayers 
 were heard ; and on the sixth morning, at sunrise, Mah-to-toh-pa descended 
 the bluffs, ai;d entered the village amiUsi deafening shouts of applause, 
 while he brandished and shewed to his people the blade of his lance, with 
 the blood of his victim dried upon it, over that of his brother ; and the 
 scalp of Won-ga-tap suspen&ed from its handle 
 
 Such was the feat represented by Mah-to-toh-pa on his robe — and the 
 lance, of which I have just spoken, is seen in the hand of his portrait, which 
 will stand in my Gallery, aiid of which I have thus formerly spoken : — 
 " The lance or spear of Mah-to-toh-pa, when he stood for his portrait, was 
 held in his left hand ; its blade was two-edged, and of polished steel, and the 
 blood of several human victims was seen dried upon its surface, one over 
 the other ; its shaft was of the toughest ash, and ornamented at intervals 
 with tufts of war-eagle's quills." 
 
 In the portrait, of which I am speaking, there will be seen an eagle's 
 quill balanced on the hilt of the lance, severed from its original position, 
 and loose from the weapon. When I painted his portrait, he brought that 
 quill to my wigwam in his left hand, and carefully balancing it on the lance, 
 as seen in the painting ; he desired me to be very exact with it, to have it 
 appear as separate from, and unconnected with, the lance ; and to represent 
 a spot of blood which was visible upon it. I indulged him n\ his request, 
 and then got from him the following explanation : — "That quill (said he) 
 is great medicine! it belongs to the Great Spirit, and not to me — when I was 
 running out of tiie lodge of Won-ga-tap, I looked back and saw that quill 
 hanging to the wound in his side ; I ran back, and pulling it out, brought 
 it home in my left hand, and I have kept it for the Great Spirit to this day !" 
 
 " Why do you not then tie it on to the lance again, where it came off?" 
 
 '* Hush-sh (said he), if the Great Spirit had wished it to be tied on in 
 that place, it never would have come off; he has been kind to me, and I 
 will not offend him." 
 
 7. A Riccaree killed by Mah-to-toh-pa in revenge of the death of a white 
 man killed by a Riccaree in the Fur Traders' Fort, a short time previous. 
 
 8. Mah-to-toh-pa, or four bears, kills a Shienne chief, who challenged him 
 to single combat, in presence of the two war-parties ; they fought on horse- 
 back with guns, until Mah-to-toh-pa's powder-horn was shot away ; they then 
 fought witli bows and arrows, until their quivers were emptied, when they 
 
 I 
 
"•■***' 'Sl^v"^f'""**v'r'' ■' "v-wj^" 
 
 162 
 
 i-r ri 
 
 dismounted and fougnt single-lmndcd. The Sliienne drew his knife, and 
 Mah-to-t.oli-pa had left his; they strUj-^rgled for the knife, which Mah-to-toh-pa 
 wrested from the Shienne, and killed him with it ; in the struggle, tlie 
 blade of the knife was several times drawn through the hand of Mah-to-toh- 
 l)a, and the blood is seen running from the wound. 
 
 This extraordinary occurrence also, was one which admits of, and deserves 
 a more elaborate description, which 1 will here give as it was translated 
 fropj his own lips, 'vhile he sat upon the robe, pointing to his painting of it; 
 and at the same time brandishing the identical knife wliich he drew from 
 his belt, as he was shewing how the fatal blow was givrn ; and exhibit- 
 ing the wounds inflicted in his hand, as the blade of the knife was several 
 times drawn through it before he wrested it from his antagonist. 
 
 A party of about 150 Shienne warriors had made an assault upon the 
 Mandan village at an early hour in tlie morning, and driven off a consider- 
 able number of horse'j, and taken one scalp. Mah-to-toh-pa, who was 
 then a young man, but famed as one of the most valiant of the Mandans, 
 took the lead of a party of fifty warriors, all he could at that time muster, 
 and went in pursuit of the enemy ; about noon of the second day, they 
 came in sight of the Shiennes; and the Mandans seeing their enemy much 
 more numerous than they had expected, were generally disposed to turn 
 about and return without attacking them. They started to go back, when 
 Mah-to-toh-pa galloped out in front upon the prairie, and plunged his 
 lance into the ground ; the blade was driven into the earth to its hilt— he 
 made another circuit around, and in that circuit tore from his breast his 
 reddened sash, which he hung upon its handle as a flag, calling out to 
 the Mandans, " What! have we come to this? we have dogged our enemy 
 two days, and now when we have found them, are we to turn about and go 
 back like cowards? Mah-to-toh-pa's lance, which is red with the blood of 
 brave men, has led you to the sight of your enemy, and you have followed it; 
 it now stands firm in the ground, where the earth will drink the blood of Mah- 
 to-toh-pa ! you may all go back, and Mah-to-toh-pa will fight them alone!" 
 
 During this manoeuvre, the Shiennes, who had discovered the Mandans 
 behind them, had turned about and were gradually approacliing, in order to 
 give them battle ; the chief of the Shienne war-party seeing and under- 
 standing the difficulty, and admiring the gallant conduct of Mah-to-toh-pa, 
 galloped his horse forward within hailing distance, in front of the Mandans, 
 and called out to know " who he was who had stuck down his lance and 
 defied the whole enemy alone ?" 
 
 " I am Mah-to-toh-pa, second in command of the brave and valiant 
 Mandans." 
 
 " I have heard often of Mah-to-toh-pa, he is a great warrior — dares 
 Mah-to-toh-pa to come forward and fight this battle with me alone, and our 
 warriors will look on ? " 
 
 " Is he a chief who speaks to Mah-to-toh-pa '" 
 
knife, and 
 li-to-toli-pa 
 ruggle, the 
 ^ah-to-toh- 
 
 \nd deserves 
 IS translated 
 linting of it; 
 ;e drew from 
 jnd exhibit- 
 e was several 
 
 5t. 
 
 lult upon the 
 EF a consider- 
 .pa, who was 
 the Mandans, 
 I time muster, 
 )nfl day, they 
 r enemy much 
 iposed to turn 
 go back, when 
 (1 plunged his 
 to its hilt -he 
 his breast his 
 calling out to 
 oed our enemy 
 [n about and go 
 Ith the blood of 
 lave followed it; 
 blood of Mah- 
 |it them alone '." 
 the Mandans 
 ling, in order to 
 [ng and imder- 
 Mdh-to-toh-pa, 
 jf the Mandans, 
 In his lance and 
 
 ive and valiant 
 
 warrior — dares 
 alone, and our 
 
 -/? 
 
 'M 
 
 \r J :> 
 
 4 . , 
 
 n. 
 
 -^-^ D 
 
 4^ ji^ 
 
 'k> 
 
 C. Oitlm 
 
'■'IBIi 
 
 iPl! 
 
103 
 
 " My scalps yon see hanginu^ to my horse's bits, and here is my lance 
 with the ermine skins and the war-eagle's tail !" 
 
 «' You have said enough. " 
 
 The Shienne chief made a circuit or two at full gallop on a beautiful white 
 horse, when he struck his lance into the ground, and left it standing by the 
 side of the lance of Mah-to-toh-pa, both of which were waving together 
 their little red flags, tokens of blood and defiance. 
 
 The two parties then drew nearer, on a beautiful prairie, and the two full- 
 plumed chiefs, at full speed, drove furiouiy upon each other! both firing 
 their guns at the same moment. They passed each other a little distance 
 and wheeled, when Mah-to-toh-pa drew off his powder-horn, and by hold- 
 ing it up, shewed his adversary that the bullet had f'lattered it to pieces 
 and destroyed his ammunition ; he then threw it from him, and liis gun 
 also — drew his bow from his quiver, and an arrow, and his shield upon his 
 left arm ! The Shienne instantly did the same ; his horn was thrown off, 
 and his gun was thrown into the air — his shield was balanced on his arm — 
 his bow drawn, and quick as lightning, they were both on the wing for a 
 deadly combat ! Like two soaring eagles in the open air, they made their 
 circuits around, and the twangs of their sinewy bows were heard, and the 
 war-whoop, as they dashed by each other, parrying off the whizzing arrows 
 with their shields ! Some lodged in their legs and others in their arms ; 
 but both protected their bodies with their bucklers of bull's hide. Deadly 
 and many were the shafts that fled from their murderous bows. At length 
 the horse of Mah-to-toli-pa fell to the ground with an arrow in his heart J 
 his rider sprang upon his feet prepared to renew the combat ; but the 
 Shienne, seeing his adversary dismounted, sprang from his horse, and driving 
 iiim back, presented the face of his shield towards his enemy, inviting him 
 to come on ! — a few shots more were exchanged thus, when the Shienne, 
 having discharged all his arrows, held up his empty quiver and dashing it 
 furiously to the ground, with his bow and his shield ; drew and brandished 
 his naked knife ! 
 
 " Yes ! " said Mah-to-toh-pa, as he threw his shield and quiver to the 
 earth, and was rushing up — he grasped for his knife, but his belt had it not ; 
 he had left it at home ! his bow was in his hand, with which he parried his 
 antagonist's blow and felled him to the ground ! A desperate struggle now 
 ensued for the knife— the blade of it was several times drawn through the 
 right hand of Mah-to-toh-pa, inflicting t'le most frightful wounds,while he was 
 severely wounded in several parts of the body. He at length succeeded how- 
 ever, in wresting it from his adversary's hand, and plunged it to his heart. 
 
 By this time the two parties had drawn up in close view of each other, 
 and at the close of the battle, Mah-to-toh-pa held up, and claimed in deadly 
 silence, the knife and scalp of the noble Shienne chief.* 
 
 •This celebrated weapon with the blood of several victims dried upoQ its blade, now 
 VOL. I. " 
 
154 
 
 mm 
 
 9. Several luindred Minatarrecs and Mandans attacked by a party of 
 Assinneboins — all fied but Mah-to-toh-pa, who stood his ground, fired, 
 and killed one of the enemy, putting the rest of taem to flight, and driving 
 off" sixty horsei" ! He is here seen with his lance and shield — foot-tracks 
 of his enemy in front, and iiis own party's horse-tracks behind him, and 
 a shower of bullets flying around his head ; here he got the name of 
 " the four beurs," as the Assinneboins said he rushed on like four bears. 
 
 10. Mah-to-toh-pa gets from his horse and kilk two Ojibbeway women, 
 and takes their scalps ; done by the side of an Ojibbeway village, where 
 they went to the river for water. He is iiere seen with his lance in one 
 hand and his knife in the other — an eagle's plume head-dress on his horse, 
 and his shield left on his horse's back. I incurred his ill-will for awhile by 
 asking him, whether it was manly to boast of taking the scalps of women ? 
 and his pride prevented him from giving me any explanation or apology. 
 The interpreter, however, explained to me that he had secreted himself in 
 the most daring manner, in full sight of the Ojibbeway village, seeking to 
 revenge a murder, where he remained six days without sustenance, and then 
 killed the two women in full view of the tribe, and made his escape, which 
 entitled him to the credit of a victory, though his victims were women. 
 
 11. A large party of Assinneboins entrenched near the Ma^dan village 
 attacked by the Mandans and Minatarrecs, who were driven back — Mah- 
 to-toh-pa rushes into the entrenchment alone — an Indian fires at him and 
 burns his face with the muz'lc of his gun, which burst — the Indian retreats, 
 leaving his exploded gun, and Mah-to-toh-pa shoots him through the 
 shoulders as he runs, and kills him with his tomahawk ; the gun of the 
 Assinneboin is seen falling to the ground, and in front of him the heads of 
 the Assinneboins in the entrenchment ; the horse of Mah-to-toh-pa is seen 
 behind him. 
 
 12. Mah-to-toh-pa between his enemy the Sioux, and his own people, 
 with an arrow shot through him, after standing the fire of the Sioux for a 
 long time alone. In this battle he took no scalps, yet his valour was so ex- 
 traordinary that the chiefs and braves awarded him the honour of a victory. 
 
 This feat is seen in the centre of the robe — head-dress of war-eagles' quills 
 on his own and his horse's head — the tracks of his enemies' horses are seen in 
 front of him, and bullets flying both ways all around him. With his whip 
 in his hand, he is seen urging his horse forward, and an arrow is seen 
 flying, and bloody, 'as it has passed through his body. For this wound, 
 and the several others mentioned above, he bears the honourable scars on 
 liis body, which he generaHy keeps covered with red paint. 
 
 Such are the battles traced upon the robe of Mah-to-toh-pa or four 
 bears, interpreted by J. Kipp from the >".'ords of the hero while sitting upon 
 the robe, explaining each battle as represented. 
 
 bangs in the Indian Gallery, witU satisfactory certificate's of its dentity and its renark- 
 nble history, and un exact drawing of it and its scabbard can Lc oeen in plate 99, u. 
 
i66 
 
 y a party of 
 round, tired, 
 , and driving 
 —foot-tracks 
 ind him, and 
 the name of 
 lur bears, 
 eway women, 
 village, where 
 
 lance in one 
 on his horse, 
 
 for awhile by 
 )S of women ? 
 1 or apology. 
 :ed himself in 
 ige, seeking to 
 ance, and then 
 
 escape, which 
 3 women. 
 Mar.dan villa2:e 
 ;n back — Mah- 
 es at him and 
 Indian retreats, 
 through the 
 
 ;he gun of the 
 the heads of 
 toh-pa is seen 
 
 lis own people, 
 Ithe Sioux for a 
 Llour was so ex- 
 ur of a victory, 
 ar-eagles' quills 
 )rses are seen in 
 With his whip 
 arrow is seen 
 Tor this wound, 
 liable scars on 
 
 Uoh-pa or four 
 lile sitting upon 
 
 [ty and its renarV- 
 
 PLATE 99, a. 
 
 LETTER- No. 22. 
 
 MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Oil ! " horribile visu — ct mirubile dictu ! " Thank God, it is over, thiU I 
 have seen it, and am able to tell it to the world. 
 
 The annual religious ceremony, of four days, of which I have so often 
 spoken, and which I have so long been wishing to see, has at last been en- 
 acted in this village ; and I have, fortunately, been able to see and to under- 
 stand it in most of its bearings, which was more than I had reason to expect; 
 for no white man, in all probability, has ever been before admitted to the 
 medicine-lodye during these most remarkable and appalling scenes. 
 
 Well and truly has it been said, that the Mandans are a strange and 
 peculiar people ; nnd most correctly had I been informed, that this was an 
 important and intensting scene, by those who had, on former occasions, 
 witnessed such parts of it as are transacted out cf doors, and in front of the 
 medicine-lodge. 
 
 Since the date of my last Letter, I was lucky enough to have painted 
 the medicine-man, who was high-priest on this grand occasion, or conductor 
 of the ceremonies, who had me regularly installed doctor or ^'medicine;" 
 and who, on the morning when these grand refinements in mysteries com- 
 menced, took me by the arm, and led me into the medicine-lodge, where tiie 
 P'ur Trader, Mr. Kipp, and his two dorks accon panied me in close atten- 
 dance foi four days ; all of us going to our own quarters at sun- down, and 
 returning again at sun-rise the next morning. 
 
 I took my sketch-book with me, and have made many and faithful 
 drawings of what we saw, and full notes of everything as translated to me 
 by the interpreter; and since the close of that horrid and frightful scene, 
 which was a 'veek ago or more, I have been closely ensconced in an earth- 
 covered wigwam, with a fine sky-light over my head, with my palette and 
 brushes, endeavouring faithfully to put the whole of what we saw upon 
 canvass, which my cc ipanions all agree to be critically correct, and of the 
 fidelity of which they have attached their certificates to the back^^ of the 
 paintings, 1 have made four paintings of these strange scenes, containing 
 several hundred figures, representing the transactions of each day ; and if I 
 live to get them home, they will be found to be exceedingly curious and 
 interesting, 
 
 I shudder at the relation, or even at the thought of these barbarous and 
 
t«6 
 
 onipl scenes, and am almost ready to shrink from the task of reciting them 
 after I Iiave so long promised some account of them. I entered the medi- 
 cine-house of these scenes, as I woukl have entered a church, and expected 
 to see something extraordinary and strange, but yet in the form of woraliip or 
 devotion ; but alas ! little did I expect to see the interior of their holy 
 temple turned into a sluiujhtcr-housc, and its floor strewed with the blood 
 of its Amatic devotees. Little did I think that I was '^•itering a house of 
 God, where His blinded worshippers were to pollute iis sacred interior 
 with their blood, and propitiatory suffering and tortures — surpassing, if 
 possible, the cruelty of the rack or the inquisition ; but such the scene has 
 been, and as such I will endeavour to describe it. 
 
 The " Mandan religious ceremony" then, as I believe it is very justly deno- 
 minated, is ail annual transaction, held in their medicine-lodrje once a year, 
 as a great religious anniversary, and for several distinct objects, as I shall 
 in a few minutes describe; during and after which, they look with implicit 
 reliance for the justification and approval of the Great Spirit. 
 
 All of the Indian tribes, as I have before observed, are religious — are 
 worshipful — and many of them go to almost incredible lengths (as will be 
 seen in the present instance, and many others I may recite) in worshipping 
 the Great Spirit; denying and humbling themselves before Him for the 
 same purpose, and in the same hope as we do, perhaps iu a more rational 
 and acceptable way. 
 
 The tribes, so far as I have visited them, all distinctly believe in the 
 existence of a Great (or Good) Spirit, an Evil (or Bad) Spirit, and also in a 
 future existence and future accoimtability, according to their virtues and 
 vices in this Avyrld, So far the North American Indians would seem to be 
 one family, and such an unbroken theory amongst them ; yet with regard to 
 the manner and form, and time and place of that accountability — to the 
 constructions of virtues and vices, and the modes of appeasing and propitia- 
 ting the Good and Evil Spirits, they are found with all the changes and variety 
 whicli fortuitous circumstances, and fictions, and fables have wrought upon 
 them. 
 
 If from their superstitions and their ignorance, there are oftentimes ob- 
 scurities and mysteries thrown over and around their system, yet these affect 
 not the theory itself, which is everywhere essentially the same — and which, 
 if it be not correct, has this much to command the admiration of the en- 
 lightened world, that they worship with great sincerity, and all according to 
 one creed. 
 
 The Mandans believe in the existence of a Great (or Good) Spirit, and 
 also of an Evil Spirit, who they say existed long before the Good Spirit, and 
 is far superior in power. They all believe also in a future state of existence, 
 and a future administration of rewards and punishments, and (so do all 
 other tribes that 1 have yet visited) they believe those punishments are not 
 eternal, but commensurate with their sins. 
 
157 
 
 These people living in a climate where they sufFer from cold in the severity 
 of their winters, have very naturally reversed our ideas of Heaven and Hell. 
 The latter they describe to he'll country very far to the north, of barren and 
 hideous aspect, iind covered with eternal snows and ice. The torments of 
 this freezing place they describe as most excruciating ; whilst Heaven they 
 suppose to be in a warmer and delightful latitude, where nothing is felt but the 
 keenest enjoyment, and where the country abounds in buffaloes and other 
 luxuries of life. The Great or Good Spirit they believe dwells in the former 
 place for the purpose of there meeting those who have offended him ; increas- 
 ing the agony of their sufferings, by being himself present, administering 
 the penalties. The Dad or Evil Spirit they at the same time suppose to 
 reside in Paradise, still tempting the happy; and those who have gone to the 
 regions of punishment they believe to be tortured for a time proportioned to 
 the amount of their transgressions, and that they are then to be transferred 
 to the land of the happy, where they are again liable to the temptations of 
 the Evil Spirit, and answerable again at a future period for their new 
 offences. 
 
 Such is the religious creed of the Mandans, and for the purpose of ap- 
 peasing the Good and Evil Spirits, and to secure their entrance into those 
 •' fields Elysian," or beautiful hunting grounds, do the young men subject 
 tliemselves to the horrid and sickening cruelties to be described in the fol- 
 lowing pages. 
 
 There are other three distinct objects (yet to be named) for which these 
 religious ceremonies are held, which are as follow : — 
 
 First, they are held annually as a celebration of the event of the subsid- 
 ing of the Flood, which they call Mee-nee-ro-ka-ha-sha, (sinking down or 
 settling of the waters.) 
 
 Secondly, for the purpose of dancing what they call, Bel-lolick-na-pic 
 (the bull-dance) ; to the stuct observance of which they attribute the 
 coming of buffaloes to supply them with food during the season ; and 
 
 Thirdly and lastly, for the purpose of conducting all the young men of 
 the tribe, as they annually arrive to the age of manhood, through an ordeal 
 of privation and torture, which, while it is supposed to harden their muscles 
 and prepare them for extreme endurance, enables the chiefs who are specta- 
 tors to the scene, to decide upon their comparative bodily strength and 
 ability to endure the extreme privations and sufferings that often fall to the 
 lots of Indian warriors ; and that they may decide who is the most hardy 
 and best able to lead a war-party in case of extreme exigency. 
 
 This part of the ceremony, as I have just witnessed it, is truly shockitig 
 to behold, and will almost stagger the belief Ci the world when they read o 
 it. The scene is too terrible and too revolting to be seen or to be told , 
 were it not an essential part of a whole, which will be new to the civilized 
 world, and therefore worth their knowing. 
 
 The bull-dance, and many other parts of these ceremonies are exceed- 
 
 I 
 
168 
 
 ••'l'5 
 
 ' :!k'.| h^ 
 
 
 ingly grotesque ant! amusinu;, and tliut part of them which has a relation to 
 the Deluge is harmless and full of interest. 
 
 In the centre of the Mandan viMage is an open, circular area of 150 feet 
 diameter, kept always clear, as a public ground, for the display of all their 
 public feasts, parades, &c. and around it are their wigwams placed as near 
 to each other as they can well stand, their doors facing the centre of this 
 public area. 
 
 In the middle of this g'*ound, which is trodden like a hard pavement, is a 
 curb (somewhat like a large hogshead standing on its end) made of planks 
 (and bound with hoops), some eight or nine feet high, which they religiously 
 preserve and protect from year to year, free from mark or scratch, and 
 which they call the " big canoe" — it is undoubtedly a symbolic representa- 
 tion of a part of their traditional history of the Flood ; which it is very evident, 
 from this and numerous other features of this grand ceremony, they have in 
 some way or other received, and are here endeavouring to perpetuate by 
 vividly impressing it on the minds of the whole nation. This object of 
 superstition, from its position, ts the very centre of the village 's the rallying 
 point of the whole nation. To it their devotions are paid on various occasions 
 of feasts aiul religious exercises during the year ; and in this rxtraordinary 
 scene it was often the nucleus of their mysteries and cruelties, as I shall 
 shortly describe them, and becomes an object worth bearing in mind, and 
 worthy of being understood. 
 
 This exciting and appalling scene, then, which is familiarly (and no doubt 
 correctly) called the " Mandan religious ceremony," commences, not on a 
 particular day of the year, (for these people keep no record of days or weeks), 
 but at a particular season, which is designated by the full expansion of the 
 willow leaves under the bank of the river; for according to their tradition, 
 '• the twig that the bird brought home was a willow bough, and had full- 
 gr jwn leaves on it," and the bird to which they allude, is the mourning or tur- 
 tle-dove, which they took great pains to point out to me, as it is often to be 
 seen feeding on the sides of their earth-covered lodges, and which, being, as 
 they call it, a medicine-bird, is not to be destroyed or harmed by any one, 
 and even their dogs are instructed not to do it injury. 
 
 On the morning on which this strange transaction commenced, I was sitting 
 at breakfast in the house of the Trader, Mr. Kipp, when at sun-rise, we were 
 suddenly startled by the shrieking and screaming of the women, and bark- 
 ing and howling of dogs, as if an enemy were actually storming their village. 
 
 " Now we have it !" (exclaimed mine host, as he sprang from the table,) 
 the grand ceremony has commenced ! — drop your knife and fork, Monsr. 
 and get your sketch-book as soon as possible, that you may lose nothing, 
 for the very moment of commencing is as curious as anything else of this 
 strange affair." I seized my sketch-book, and all hands of us were in an 
 instant in front of the medicine-lodge, ready to see and to hear all that was 
 to take place. Groups of women and children were gathered on the tops of 
 
 n 
 
16!) 
 
 relation to 
 
 of 150 feit 
 y of all their 
 iced as near 
 eutre of this 
 
 vement, is a 
 Ic of planks 
 ey religiotisly 
 scratch, and 
 c represcnta- 
 i very evident, 
 , they have iii 
 perpetuate by 
 rhis object of 
 '•8 the rallying 
 it us occasions 
 extraordinary 
 es, as 1 shall 
 in mind, and 
 
 (und no doubt 
 iices, not on a 
 ays or weeks), 
 pansion of the 
 their tradition, 
 
 and had full- 
 ourning or tur- 
 
 is often to be 
 |hich, being, as 
 
 id by any one, 
 
 Id, I was sitting 
 li-rise, we were 
 len, and bark- 
 Ig their village, 
 ^om the table,) 
 fork, Monsr. 
 ^ lose nothing, 
 ng else of this 
 LIS were in an 
 far all that was 
 1 on the tops of 
 
 their e.\rth-covcr(*d wigwams, and all were screaming, and dogs were howling, 
 and all eyes directed to the prairies in the West, where was beheld at a mile 
 distant, a solitary individual descending a prairie blufl", and making his way 
 ill a direct line towards the village ! 
 
 The whole community joined in the general expression of great alarm, us if 
 they were in danger of instant destruction ; bows were strung and thrumr ' 
 to tost their elasticity — their horses were caught upon the prairie and run 
 into the village —warriors were blackening their taccs, and dogs were muzzled, 
 and every preparation made, as if for instant combat 
 
 During this deafening din and confusion within the piquets of the village 
 of the Mandans, the figure discovered on the prairie continued to approach 
 with a dignified step and in a right line towards the village; all eyes were 
 upon him, and he at length made his appearance (without opposition) within 
 the piquets, and proceeded towards the centre of the village, where all the 
 chiefs and braves stood ready to receive him, which they did in a cordial 
 manner, by shaking hands with him, recognizing him as an old acquaintance, 
 nnd pronouncing his name Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (the first or only man). 
 The body of this strange personage, which was chiefly naked, was painted with 
 white clay, so as to resemble at a little distance, a white man ; he wore a robe of 
 four white wolf skins falling back over his shoulders; on his head he had a 
 splendid head-dress made of two ravens* skins, and in his left hand lie 
 cautiously carried a large pipe, which he seemed to watch and guard as 
 something of great importance. After passing the chiefs and braves as 
 described, he approached the medicii e or mystery lodge, which he had the 
 means of opening, and which had bee.T religiously closed during the year 
 except for the performance of these religious rites. 
 
 Having opened and entered it, he called in four men whom he appointed 
 to clean it out, and put it in readiness for tiie ceremonies, by sweeping it 
 and strewing a profusion of green willow-boughs over its floor, and with 
 them decorating its sides. Wild sage also, and many other aromatic herbs 
 they gathered from the prairies, and scattered ovei its floor ; and over these 
 were arranged a curious group of buffalo and human skulls, and otlier 
 articles, which were to be used during this strange and unaccountable trans- 
 action. 
 
 During the whole of this day, and while these preparations were making 
 in the medicine-lodye, Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (the first or only man) travel- 
 led through the village, stopping in front of every man's lodge, and crying 
 until the owner of the lodge came out, and asked who he was, and what 
 was the matter ? to which he replied by relating the sad catastrophe which 
 had happened on the earth's surface by the overflowing of the waters, 
 saying that "he was the only person saved from the universal calamity : that 
 he landed his big canoe on a high mountain in the west, where h.i now 
 resides ; that he had come to open the 7nedicine-lodge, which must needs 
 receive a present of some edged-tool from the owner of every wigwam, that 
 
UiO 
 
 )' I 
 
 It may hi; sncrificed to the wator ; for lie says, " if this is not done, there 
 will be another tlooil, and no one will be saved, as it was with such tools 
 that the big canoe was made." 
 
 Ilavin.; visited every lodge or wigwam in the village, during the day, and 
 luiving received such a present at each, as a hatchet, a knife, &c. (which is 
 undoubtedly always prepaied and ready for the occasion), he returned at 
 evening and deposited them in the MieJiciwe-Wf/e, where they remained until 
 the afternoon of the last day of the ceremony, when, as the final or closin.j 
 scene, they were thrown into the river in a deep place, from a bank thirty 
 feet high, and in presence of the whole village ; from whence they can never 
 be recovered, and where they were, undoubtedly, sacrificed to the Spirit of 
 the Water. 
 
 During the first night of this strange character in the village, no one 
 could tell where he slept ; and every |/crson, both old and young, and dogs, 
 and all living things were kept within doors, and dead silence reigned every 
 where. On the next morning at sunrise, however, ho made his appearance 
 again, and entered the mcdicine-loihje ; and at his heels (in " Indian jilc" 
 i. e. single file, one following in another's tracks) all the young men who 
 were candidates for the self-tortures which were to be inflicted, and for the 
 honours tliat were to be bestowed by the chiefs on those who could most 
 manfully endure them. There were on this occasion about fifty young men 
 who entered the lists, and as they went into the sacred lodge, each one's 
 body was chiefly naked, and covered with clay of different colours; some 
 were red, others were yellow, and some were covered with white clay, giving 
 them the appearance of white men. Each one of them carried in his 
 right hand his vicdicine-binj — on his kft arm, his shield of the bull's hide — • 
 in his left hand, his bow and arrows, with his quiver slung on his back. 
 
 When all had entered the lodge, they placed themselves in reclining pos- 
 tures around its sides, and each one had suspended over his head his 
 respective weapons and medicine, presenting altogether, one of the most 
 wild and picturesque scenes imaginable. 
 
 Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (the first or only man) was in the midst of them, 
 and having lit and smoked his medicine-pipe for their success ; and having 
 addressed them in a short speech, stimulating and encouraging them *o 
 trust to the Great Spirit for His protection during the severe ordeal they 
 were about to pass through ; he called into the lodge an old medicine or 
 mystery-man, whose body was painted yellow, and whom he appointed 
 master of ceremonies during this occasion, whom they denominated in their 
 language 0-kee-pah Ka-se-kah (keeper or conductor of the ceremonies). 
 He was appointed, and the authority passed by the presentation of the 
 medicine-pipe, on which they considei hangs all the power of holding and 
 conducting all these rites. 
 
 After this delegated authority had thus passed over to the medicine- 
 man ; Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah shook hands with him, and bade him good 
 
 i 
 
Kil 
 
 mo, there 
 iich tooln 
 
 (lay, s^ixl 
 
 (which is 
 'turned i»t 
 linod until 
 or closinj; 
 )ank thirty 
 
 can never 
 le Spirit of 
 
 ge, no one 
 , and dogs, 
 igned every 
 appearance 
 ndian Jilc," 
 g men who 
 and for the 
 could most 
 young men 
 each one's 
 lours; some 
 day, giving 
 irried in his 
 ,uirs hide — 
 I3 back, 
 leclining pos- 
 his head his 
 lof the most 
 
 [dst of them, 
 and having 
 jing them *o 
 ordeal they 
 medicine or 
 le appointed 
 lated in their 
 I ceremonies). 
 Ration of the 
 holding and 
 
 10 medicine- 
 le him good 
 
 hye, sayint; " tlmt he was going h;uk to the mountains in the west, from 
 whence ho should assuredly return in just a year irom that time, to open the 
 lodge again." FL tlien went out of the lodge, and passing through the 
 villa^^p, took formal leave of the chiefs in the same manner, and soon dis- 
 appeared over the blurts from whence he came. No more was seen of this 
 gur|)rising cliaracter during the occasion ; but I shall have something yet to 
 say of him and his strange oflice before I get tiirough the Letter. 
 
 To return to the lodge, — the medicine or mystery-man just appointed, 
 and who had received his injunctions from Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah, was left 
 sole conductor and keeper; and according to those injunctions, it was his 
 duty to lie by a small fire in the centre of the lodcre, with his medicine-pipe 
 in his hand, crying to the Great Spirit incessantly, watching the young 
 men, and preventing entirely their escape from the lodge, and all commu- 
 nication whatever with people outside, for the space of four days and nights, 
 during which time they were not allowed to eat, tt drink, or to sleep, 
 preparatory to the excruciating self-tortures which they weie to endure on 
 the fourth day. 
 
 I mentioned that I had made four paintings of these strange scenes, and 
 the first ono exhibits the interior of the medicine-lodge at this moment ; 
 with the young men all reclining around its sides, and the co ductor or 
 mystery-man lying by the fire, crying to the Great Spirit (plate 6G). It was 
 just at this juncture that I was ushend into this sacred temple of their 
 worship, with my companions, which was, undoubtedly, the first time that 
 their devotions had ever been trespassed upon by the presence of pale faces ; 
 and in this instance had been brought about in the following strcvnge and 
 unexpected manner. 
 
 I had most luckily for myself, painted a full-length portrait of this great 
 magician or high-priest, but a day previous to the commencement of ttie 
 ceremonies (in which 1 had represented him in the performance of some of 
 his mysteries), with which he had been so exceedingly pleased as well as 
 astonished (as " he could see its eyes move"), that I must needs be, in his 
 opinion, deeply skilled in magic and mysteries, and well-entitled to a 
 respectable rank in the craft, to which I had been at once elevated by tfie 
 unanimous voice of the doctors, and regularly initiated, and styled Te-ho- 
 pee-nee-wash-ee-waska-pooska, the rohite medicine (or Spirit) painter. 
 
 With this very honourable degree which had just been conferred upoo 
 mo, I was standing in front of the medicine-lodge early in the morniug, 
 with my companions by my side, endeavouring to get a peep, if possible, 
 into its sacred interior ; when this master of ceremonies, guarding and con- 
 ducting its secrets, as I before described, came out of the door and taking 
 me with a firm professional affection by the arm, led me into this sanctum 
 sanctorum, which was strictly guarded from, even a peep or a gaze from the 
 vulgar, by a vestibule of eight or ten feet in length, guarded with a double 
 screen or door, and two or three dark and frowning centinels with spears 
 
 VOL. 1. Y 
 
li J 
 
 162 
 
 or war-clubs in their hands. I gave the wink to my companions as I wag 
 passing in, and the potency of my medicine was such as to gain them a quiet 
 tdmission, and all of us were comfortably placed on elevated seats which 
 our conductor soon prepared for us. 
 
 We were then in full view of everything that transpired in the lodge, 
 having before us the scene exactly, which is represented in the first of the 
 four pictures. To this seat we returned every morning at sunrise, and re- 
 mained until sun-down for four days, the whole time which these strange 
 scenes occupied. 
 
 In addition to the preparations and arrangements of the interior of this 
 sanctuary, as above described, there was a curious, though a very strict 
 arrangement of buffalo and human skulls placed on the floor of the lodge, 
 and between them (which were divided into two parcels), and in front of 
 the reclining group of young candidates, was a small and very delicate 
 scaffold, elevated about five feet from the ground, made of four posts or 
 crotches, not larger than a gun-rod, and placed some four or five feet apart, 
 supporting four equally delicate rods, resting in the crotches ; tiius forming 
 the frame of the scaffold, which was completed by a number of still smaller 
 and more delicate sticks, transversely resting upon them. On the centre of 
 this little frame rested some small object, which I could not exactly under- 
 stand from the distance of twenty or thirty feet which intervened between it 
 and my eye. I started several times from my seat to approach it, but all 
 eyes were instantly upon me, and every mouth in the assembly sent forth a 
 hush — sh — ! which brought me back to my seat again; and I at length 
 quieted my stifled curiosity as well as I could, upon learning the fact, that 
 80 sacred was that object, and so important its secrets or mysteries, that not 
 / alone, but even the young men, who were passing the ordeal, and all the 
 village, save the conductor of the mysteries, were stopped from approaching 
 it, or knowing what it was. 
 
 This little mystery-thing, whatever it was, had the appearance from where 
 I sat, of a small tortoise or frog lying on its bade, with its heaJ r-"-! legs 
 quite extended, and wound and tasselled off with exceedingly delicate red 
 and blue, and yellow ribbons or tassels, and other bright coloured orna- 
 ments ; and seemed, from the devotions paid to it, to be the very nucleus of 
 their mysteries — the sanctissimus sanctorum, from which seemed to emanate 
 all the sanctity of their proceedings, and to whicli, all seemed to be paying 
 the highest devotional respect. 
 
 This strange, yet important essence of their mysteries, I made everj 
 enquiry about ; but got no further information of, than what I could learn 
 by my eyes, at the distance at which I saw it, and from the silent respect 
 which I saw paid to it. I tried with the doctors, and all of the fraternily 
 answered me, that that was "great medicine," assuring me that it " could 
 not be told." So I quieted my curiosity as well as I could, by the full 
 conviction that I had a degree or two yet to take before I could fathom all 
 
ions as I was 
 them a quiet 
 i seats which 
 
 in the lodge, 
 le first of the 
 inrise, and re- 
 these strange 
 
 nterior of this 
 i a very strict 
 . of the lodge, 
 nd in front of 
 d very delicate 
 )f four posts or 
 five feet apart, 
 ; thus forming 
 of still smaller 
 3n the centre of 
 t exactly under- 
 /ened between it 
 Koach it, but all 
 nbly sent forth a 
 and T at length 
 ng the fact, that 
 ysteries, that not 
 deal, and all the 
 rom approaching 
 
 ance from where 
 
 _s hfc«" ■ "'- 1«?^ 
 igly delicate red 
 coloured ovna- 
 , very nucleus of 
 >med to emanate 
 ned to be paying 
 
 ., I made everj, 
 
 lat I could learn 
 
 \\\e silent respect 
 
 the fraternUy 
 
 that it *' could 
 
 Lid, by the full 
 
 Luld fathom all 
 
.1 ,• 
 
163 
 
 the arcana of Indian superstitions ; and that this little, seemingly wondeiful, 
 relic of antiquity, symbol of some grand event, or " secret too valuable to 
 be told," might have been at last nothing but a silly bunch of strings and 
 toys, to which they pay some great peculiar regard ; giving thereby to some 
 favourite Spirit or essence an ideal existence, and which, when called upon 
 to describe, they refuse to do so, calling it " Great Medicine," for the very 
 reason that there is nothing in it to reveal or describe. 
 
 Immediately under the little frame o; scaffold described, and on the floor 
 of the lodge was placed a knife, and by the side of it a bundle of splints 
 or skewers, which were kept in readiness for the infliction of the cruelties 
 directly to be explained. There were seen also, in this stage of the affair, 
 a number of cords of rawhide hanging down from the top of the lodge, and 
 passing through its roof, with which the young men were to be suspended 
 by the splints passed through their flesh, and drawn up by men placed on 
 the top of the lodge for the purpose, as will be described in a few mo- 
 ments. 
 
 There were also four articles of great veneration and importance lying on 
 the floor of the lodge, which were sacks, containing in each some three or 
 four gallons of water. These also were objects of superstitious regard, and 
 made with grcat labour and much ingenuity ; each one of them being con- 
 structed of the skin of the buffalo's neck, and most elaborately sewed to- 
 gether in the form of a large tortoise lying on its back, with a bunch of 
 eagle's quills appended to it as a tail ; and each of them having a stick, 
 shaped like a drum-stick, lying on them, with which, in a subsequent stage 
 of these ceremonies, as will be seen, they are beaten upon by several of 
 their mystery-men, as a part of the music for their strange dances and mys- 
 teries. By the side of these sacks which they call Eeh-teeh-ka, are two 
 other articles of equal importance, which they call Eeh-na-dee (rattles), in 
 the form of a gourd-shell made also of dried skins, and used at the 
 same time as the others, in the music (or rather noise and din) for their 
 dances, &c. 
 
 These four sacks of water have the appearance of very great a.itiquity; 
 and by enquiring of my very ingenious friend and putron, the medicine -man, 
 after the ceremonies were over, he very gravely told me, that " those four 
 tortoises contained the waters from the four quarters of the world — that 
 these waters had been contained therein ever since the settling down of 
 the waters ! " I did not think it best to advance any argument against so 
 ridiculous a theory, and therefore could not even enquire or learn, at what 
 period they had been instituted, or how often, or on what occasions, the 
 water in them had been changed or replenished. 
 
 I made several propositions, through my friend Mr. Kipp, the trader and 
 interpreter, to purchase one of these strange things by offering them a very 
 liberal price; to which I received in answer that these, and all the very 
 numerous articles used in these ceremonies, being a society property were 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
164. 
 
 medicine, and could not be sold for any consideration ; so I abandoned all 
 thoughts of obtaining anything, except what I have done by the medicine 
 operation of my pencil, which was applied to everything, and even upon 
 that they looked with decided distrust and apprehension, as a sort of theft 
 or sacrilege. 
 
 Such then was the group, and such the appearance of the interior of the 
 medicine-lodge during the three first, and part of the fourth day also, of the 
 Mandan religious ceremonies. The medicine-man with a group about him, 
 of young aspirants who were under his sole controul, as was every article 
 and implement to be used, and the sanctity of this solitary and gloomy 
 looking place, which could not be trespassed upon by any man's presence 
 without his most sovereign permission. 
 
 During the three first days of this solemn conclave, there were many very 
 curious forms and amusements enacted in the open area in the middle of the 
 village, and in front of the n-edicine-lodge, by other members of the com- 
 munity, ons of which formed a material part or link of these strange cere- 
 monials. This very curious and exceedingly grotesque part of their perform- 
 ance, which they denominated Bel-lohck nah-pick (the buU-dauce) of which 
 1 have before spoken, as one of the avowed objects for which they held this 
 annual fete ; and to the strictest observance of which they attribute the 
 coming of buffaloes to supply them with food during the season — is repeated 
 four tiines during the first day, eight times on the second day, twelve times 
 on the third day, and sixteen times on the fourth day ; and always around 
 ?.he curb, or '• big canoe" of which I have before spoken. 
 
 This subject I have selected for my second picture, and the principal actors 
 in it were eight men, with the entire skins of buffaloes thrown over their 
 backs, with the horns and hoofs and tails remaining on ; their bodies in a 
 horizontal position, enabling them to imitate'^ the actions of the buffalo, 
 whilst they were looking out of its eyes as through a mask (plate 67). 
 
 The bodies of these men were chiefly naked and all painted in the most 
 extraordinary manner, with the nicest adherence to exact similarity ; their 
 limbs, bodies and faces, being in every part covered, either with black, red, 
 or white paint. Each one of these strange characters had also a lock of 
 buffalo's hair tied around his ancles — in his right hand i rattle, and a slen- 
 der white rod or staff, six fset long, in the other ; and carried on his back, 
 a bunch of green willow boughs about the usual size cf a bundle of straw. 
 Tliese eight men, being divided into four pairs, took , heir positions on the 
 four different sides of the curb or big canoe, representing thereby the four 
 cardinal points; and between each group of them, with the back turned to 
 the big canoe, was another figure, engaged in the same dance, keeping step 
 with them, with a similar staff or wand in one hand and a rattle in the other, 
 and (being four in number) answering again to the four cardinal points. The 
 bo'Jies of these four young men were chiefly naked, with no other dress upon 
 lliem tlian a beautiful kelt (or quartz-quaw), around the waist, made of eagles 
 
ibandoned all 
 
 the medicine 
 
 id even upon 
 
 i sort of theft 
 
 nterior of the 
 ay also, of the 
 up about him, 
 IS every article 
 ry and gloomy 
 nan's presence 
 
 ?cre many very 
 e middle of the 
 !rs of the com- 
 ; strange cere- 
 f their perform- 
 laiice) of which 
 In they held this 
 ly attribute the 
 ion — is repeated 
 ly, twelve times 
 always around 
 
 principal actors 
 irown over their 
 eir bodies in a 
 of the buffalo, 
 LATE 67). 
 ted in the most 
 similarity; their 
 with black, red, 
 d also a lock of 
 ttle, and a slen- 
 d on his back, 
 undle of straw, 
 (ositions on the 
 ihereby the four 
 back turned to 
 ;e, keeping step 
 :tle in the other, 
 inal points. The 
 ither dress upon 
 made of eagles 
 
1 
 
 1 
 
 '1 ■ 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 Nil 
 
165 
 
 t|uills and ermine, and very splendid head-dresses made of the same materials. 
 Two of these figures were painted entirely black with pounded charcoal and 
 grease, whom they called the " firmament or night," and the numerous white 
 spots which were dotted all over their bodies, they called " stars." The other 
 two were painted from head to foot as red as vermilion could make them ; these 
 they said represented the day, and the white streaks which were painted up 
 and down over their bodies, were " ghosts which the morning rays were 
 chasing away." 
 
 These twelve are the only persons actually engaged in this strange dance, 
 which is each time repeated in the same form, without the slightest variation. 
 There are, however, a great number of characters engaged in giving the 
 whole effect and wildiiess to this strange and laughable scene, each one 
 acting well his part, and whose offices, strange and inexplicable as they are. 
 1 will endeavour to point out and explain as well as I can, from what I saw, 
 elucidated by their own descriptions. 
 
 This most remarkable scene, then, which is witnessed more or less often 
 on each day, takes place in presence of the whole nation, who are generally 
 gathered around, on the tops of the wigwams or otherwise, as spectators, 
 whilst the young men are reclining and fasting in the lodge as above de- 
 scribed. On the first day, this "bull-dance" is given o?Jce to each of the 
 cardinal points, and the medicine-man smokes his pipe in those directions. 
 On the second day, huice to each ; three times to each on the third day, 
 i\v\d four times to each on the fourth. As a signal for the dancers and other 
 characters (as well as the public) to assemble, the old man, master of 
 ceremonies, with the medicine-pipe In hand, dances out of the lodge, singing 
 (or rather crying) forth a most p!*iful lament, until he approaches the big 
 canoe, against which he leans, with the pipe in his hand, and continues to 
 cry. At this instant, four very aged and patriarchal looking men, whose 
 bodies are painted red, and who have been guarding the four sides of the 
 lodge, enter it and bring out the four sacks of water, which they place near 
 the big canoe, where they seat themselves by the side of them and commence 
 thumping on them with the mallets or drumsticks which have been lying on 
 tliem ; and another brandishes and shakes the eeh-na-dees or rattles, and 
 all unite to them their voices, raised to the highest pitch possible, as the 
 mi. tic for the bull-dance, which is then commenced and continued for 
 fifteen minutes or more in perfect time, and without cessation or intermis- 
 sion. When the music and dancing stop, which are always perfectly simul- 
 taneous, the whole nation raise the huzza ! and a deafening shout of ap- 
 probation ; the master of ceremonies dances back to the medicine- 
 lodge, and the old men return to their former place ; the sacks of water, and 
 all rest :is before, until by the same method, they are again called into a 
 similar action. 
 
 The supernumeraries or other characters who play their parts in this grand 
 s|)ectacle. are numerous and well worth description. By the side of the 
 
166 
 
 iV 'i; 
 
 big canoe arc seen two men with the skins of grizzly bears thrown over 
 them, using the skins as a mask, over their heads. These ravenous animals 
 are continually growling and threatening to devour everything before thcin 
 and interfering with the forms of their religious ceremony. To appease 
 ihem, the women are continually bringing and placing before them dishes of 
 meat, which arc as often snatched up and carried to the prairie, by t,vo meii 
 whose bodies are painte'' hVo.rk and their heads while, whom they call bald 
 eagles, who i ''art' y tliern and grasping their food from before them 
 as they pass ''' ■ are again ch;iscil upon the plains by a hundred or 
 more small hu -. naked, with their bodies painted yellow and their 
 
 heads white, wht. jci,.! Cubris or antelopes; who at length gel. the 
 
 food away from t!:em and ' our it ; thereby inculcating (perhaps) the 
 beautiful moral, that by the dispensations of Providence, his bountiful gifts 
 will full at last to the hands of the innocent. 
 
 During the intervals between these dances, all these characters, except 
 those from the medicine-lodge, retire to a wigwam close by, which they use 
 oil the occasion also as a sacred place, being occupied exclusively by them 
 while they are at rest, and also for the purpose of painting and ornamenting 
 their bodies for the occasion. 
 
 During each and every one of these dances, the old men who beat upon 
 the sacks and sing, are earnestly chanting forth their supplications to the 
 Great Spirit, for the contii -laiion of his influence in sending them buffaloes 
 to supply them with food during the year ; they are administering courage 
 and fortitude to the young men in the lodge, by telling them, that *' the 
 Great Spirit has opened his ears in their behalf — that the very atmosphere all 
 about them is peace — that their women and children can hold the mouth of 
 the grizzly bear — that they have invoked from day to day O-ke-hee-de 
 (the Evil Spirit) — that they are still challenging him to come, and yet he 
 has not dared to make his appearance ! " 
 
 But £;las! in the last of these dances, on the fourth day, in the midst of all 
 their mirth and joy, and about noon, and in the height of all these exulta- 
 tions, an instant scream burst forth from the tops of the lodges ! — men, 
 women, dogs and all, seemed actually to howl and shudder with alarm, as 
 they fixed their glaring eye-balls upon the prairie bluff, about a mile in the 
 west, down the side of which a man was seen descending at full speed 
 towards the villapje ! This strange character darted about in a zig-zag course 
 in all directions on the prairie, like a boy in pursuit of a butterfly, until he 
 approached the piquets of the village, when it was discovered that his body 
 was entirely naked, and painted as black as a negro, with pounded charcoal 
 and bear's grease; his body was therefore everywhere of a shining black, 
 except occasionally white lings of an inch or more in diameter, which were 
 marked here and there all over him ; and frightful indentures of white around 
 his mouth, resembling canine teeth. Added to his hideous appearance, he 
 gave the nwst frightful shrieks and screams as he dashed through the village 
 
lirown over 
 ous animals 
 ,efoie tlieni 
 To appease 
 ;m dislics of 
 by two iiK"! 
 >y call bald 
 belbre tlicni 
 lniudied or 
 o\v and tlieir 
 igth get. ll>o 
 perhaps) tUc 
 ountil'ul gifts 
 
 icters, except 
 \ich they use 
 ively by tV.cm 
 
 I ornamenting 
 
 vho beat upon 
 nations to the 
 hem buffaloes 
 tering courage 
 em, that " the 
 atmosphere all 
 the mouth of 
 ,y 0-ke-hce-de 
 [e, and yet he 
 
 the midst of all 
 
 II these exulta- 
 llodges '.—men, 
 Iwith alarm, as 
 
 a mile in the 
 at full speed 
 zig-zag course 
 ;crfly, until he 
 that his body 
 mded charcoal 
 shining black, 
 ^er, which were 
 ,f white around 
 ippearance, he 
 t,p,h the village 
 
 167 
 
 and entered the terrified group, which was composed (in that quarter) chiefly 
 of females, who had assembled to witness llie amusements which were tran- 
 spiring around the " big canoe." 
 
 This unearthly looking creature carried in his two hands a wand or staff of 
 eight or nine feet in length, with a red ball at the end of it, which he con- 
 tinually slid on the ground a-head of him as he ran. All eyes in the village, 
 ave those of the persons engaged in the dance, were centred upon him, 
 and he made a desperate rush towards the women, who screamed for pro- 
 tection as they were endeavouring to retreat; and falling in groups upon 
 each other as they were struggling to get out of his reach. In this moment 
 of general terror and alarm there was an instant check ! and all • a few 
 moments were as silent as death. 
 
 The old master of ceremonies, who had run from his position at th » 
 ranoe, had met this monster of fiends, and having thrust the r ,.. " 'ne-f.ipc 
 before him, held him still and immoveable under its charm ! "his check 
 gave the females an opportunity to get out of his reach, and wlirn ;y '/ere 
 free from their danger, though all hearts beat yet with the instant excite- 
 ment, their alarm soon cooled down into the most exorbitan le'.ter and 
 shouts of applause at his sudden defeat, and the awkward a.. ii lidiculous 
 posture in which he was stopped and held. The old man was braced stiff 
 by his side, with his eye-balls glaring him in the face, whilst the medicine- 
 pipe held in its mystic chains his Satanic Majesty, annulling all the powers 
 of his magical wand, and also depriving him of the powers of locomotion ! 
 Surely no two human beings ever presented a more striking group than 
 these two individuals did for a few moments, with their eye-balls set in 
 direst mutual hatred upon each other ; both struggling for the supremacy, 
 relying on the potency of their medicine or mystery. The one held in check, 
 with his body painted black, representing (or rather assuming to be) his 
 sable majesty, 0-kec-hee-de (the Evil Spirit), frowning everlasting ven- 
 geance on the other, who sternly gazed him back with a look of exultation 
 and contempt, as he held him in check and disarmed I'.nder the charm of 
 his sacred mystery-pipe. 
 
 When the superior powers of the medicine-pipe (on which hang all these 
 annual mysteries) had been thus fully tested and acknowledged, and the 
 women had had requisite time to withdraw from the reach of this fiendish 
 monster, the pipe was very gradually withdrawn from before him, and ho 
 seemed delighted to recover the use of his limbs again, and power of chang- 
 ing liis position from tlie exceedingly unpleasant and really ridiculous one 
 he appeared in, and was compelled to maintain, a few moments before ; 
 rendered more superlatively ridiculous and laughable, from the further 
 information, which I am constrained to give, of tine plight in which this 
 demon of terror and vulgarity made his entree into th e midst of the Mandan 
 village, and to the centre and nucleus of their first; and greatest religious 
 ceremony. 
 
 4^ 
 
1(JH 
 
 > I' 
 
 4! 
 
 Tlien, to proceed : 1 said that tliis strange personage's body was naked — 
 was painted jet black with charcoal and bear's grease, with a wand in hii 
 hands of eight feet in length with a red ball at the end of it, which he was 
 riibl)ing about on the ground in front df him as he ran. In addition to 
 tiiis he had — unff gee ah wuhetu notchj oheks tcha, ung gee an ting hutch 
 tow a low ah ches menny, Ung gee ah to to wun nee, ahkxt to wan ee 
 eigh' s ta w. 
 
 In this plight, in which I have not dared fully to represent hrni in 
 the picture, he pursued the groups of females, spreading dismay and alarm 
 wherever he went, and consequently producing the awkward and exceedingly 
 laughable predicament in which he was placed by the sudden check from 
 the medicine-pipe, as I have above stated, when all eyes were intently fixed 
 upon him, and all joined in rounds of applause for the success of the magic 
 spell that was placed upon him ; all voices were raised in shouts of satisfac- 
 tion at his defeai, and all eyes gazed upon him ; of chiefs and of warriors — 
 matrons and even of their tender-aged and timid daughters, whose education 
 hid taught them to receive the moral of these scenes without the shock of 
 impropriety, tliat would have startled a more fastidious and consequently 
 seusutil-thinking people. 
 
 After repeated attempts thus made, and thus defeated in several parts of 
 the crowd, this blackened ujonster was retreating over the ground where the 
 buffalo-dance was going on, and having (apparently, par accident) swag- 
 tiered against one of the men placed under the skin of a buffalo and engaged 
 in the " bull dance," he started back, and placing himself in the attitude 
 of a buffalo, — hi ung ee a wahkstia, chee a nahks tammee ung s towa ; ee 
 ung ee aht gwaht ee o nmighths tcha ho a, tummee oxt no ah, ughstono ah 
 hi en en ah nahxt gwi aht guhtch gun ne. Givee en on doatcht chee en aht 
 gunne how how en ahxst tchu ! 
 
 After this he paid his visits to three others of the eight, in succession, 
 receiving as before the deafening shouts of approbation which pealed froin 
 every mouth in the multitude, who were all praying to the Great Spirit 
 to send them buffaloef) to supply them with food during the season, 
 and who attribute the coming of buffaloes for this purpose entirely to the 
 strict and critical observance of this ridiculous and disgusting part of the 
 ceremonies. 
 
 During the half hovir or so that he had been jostled about amongst man 
 and beasts, to the grciut amusement and satisfaction of the lookers-on, he 
 seemed to have becoi ne exceedingly exhausted, and anxiously looking out 
 for some feasible modi! of escape. 
 
 In this awkward pr<>dicament he became the laughing-stock and butt for 
 the women, who beinij no longer afraid of him, were gathering in groups 
 around, to tease and tantalize him; and in the midst of this dilemma, which 
 soon became a very sad one — one of the women, who stole up behind him 
 with both hands full of yellow dirt — dashed it into his face and eyes, and iH 
 
removed also tlic hiifTulo tiuil liuninn skulls from the floor, iind nttiirlird 
 thorn to tlio posts of tlic lod^o ; and two men liaviii,:; tiikcn tlicir positions 
 near the middle ol' the lodge, for the purpose of inllietinp; the tortures — the 
 one with the scalpins^-knife, and the other with tiie huiu'h of splints (which 
 I have l)eforc menticned) in iiis hand ; one at a time of tiie younj; fellows, 
 already emaciated with fisting, and thirsting;, and wakiiv^, for nearly four 
 days and nif,dits, advanced from the side of the lodge, and placed himself on 
 his hands and feet, or otherwise, as best suited for the performance of the 
 operation, where he submitted to the cruelties in the following manner : — 
 An inch or more of the flesh on each shoulder, or each breast was taken up 
 between the thumb and finger by tlie man who held the knife in his right 
 hand ; and the knife, which had been ground sharp on boih edges, and then 
 hacked and notched with the blade of another, to make it [)roduci' as miu'h 
 pain as possible, was forced through the flesh below the fingers, and being 
 withdrawn, was followed with a splinl or skewer, from the other, who hekl a 
 bunch of such in his left hand, and was ready to force them through the 
 wound. There were then two cords lowered down from the top of the lodge 
 (by men who were placed on the lodge outside, for the purpose), which 
 were fastened to these splints or skewers, and they instantly began to haul 
 him up; he was thus raised until his body was suspended from the ground 
 where he rested, until the knife and a splint were passed through the 
 flesh or integuments in a similar manner on each arm below the shoul- 
 der (over the bruchialis externus), below the elbow (over the extensor 
 carpi radiulis), on the thighs (over the vastus externus), and below the 
 knees (over the pcroncns). 
 
 In some instances they remained in a reclining position on the ground 
 until this painful operation was finished, which was performed, in all in- 
 stances, exactly on the same parts of the body and limbs ; and which, in its 
 progress, occupied some tive or six minutes. 
 
 Each one was then instantly raised with I he cords, until the weight of his 
 body was suspended by them, and then, while the blood was streaming down 
 their limbs, the bystanders hung upon the splints each man's appropriate 
 shield, bow and quiver, &c. ; and in many instances, the skull of a bufi'alo with 
 the horns on it, was attached to each lower arm and each lower leg, for the pur- 
 pose, probably, of preventing by their great weight, the struggling, which might 
 otherwise have taken place to their tisadvantage whilst they were hung up. 
 
 When these things were all adjusted, each one was raised higher by the 
 cords, until these weights all swung clear from the ground, leaving his feet, 
 in most cases, some six or eight feet above the ground. In this plight they 
 at once became appalling and frightful to look at — the flesh, to support the 
 weight of their bodies, with the additional weights which were attached to 
 them, was raised six or eight inches by the skewers ; and their heads sunk 
 forward on the breasts, or thrown backwards, in a much more frightful con- 
 dition, according to the way in which they were hung up. 
 
m 
 
 over him, and his body being covered with giciisc, took instantly a diflTerent 
 hue. He icenied iioart-hroiien nt tliis sij^nal disgrace, and comnieneed 
 vrying most vehemently, wiicn, a I'insldnl, anotiier cauglit his wand from ]\i> 
 hand, and broke it across i»er knee. It was snatclied for by others, whc 
 broke it still into bits, and then threw them at him. His power was now 
 gone — his bodily strength was exhausted, and he made a bolt for the 
 prairie — he dashed through the crowd, and made his way through the 
 pi(|nct» on the back part of the village, where were placed for the purpose, 
 an hundred or more women and girls, who escorted him as he ran on the 
 prairie for half a mile or more, beating him with sticks, and stones, and 
 dirt, and kicks, and cuffs, until he was at length seen escaping from their 
 clutches, and making the best of his retreat over the prairie blutrs, from 
 whence he first appeared. 
 
 At the moment of tliis signal victory, and when all eyes lost sight of him 
 as he disappeared over the bluff's, the whole village united their voices in 
 Khouts of satisfaction. The bull-dance then stopped, and preparations were 
 instantly made for the commencement of the cruelties which were to take 
 place within the lodge, leaving us to draw, from what had just transpired, 
 tiie following beautiful moral : — 
 
 That in the midst of their religious ceremonies, the Evil Spirit (0-kee- 
 lice-de) made his entree for the purpose of doing mischief, and of disturbing 
 their worship — that he was held in check, and defeated by the supe- 
 rior influence and virtue of the medicine-pipe, and at last, driven in disgrace 
 out of the village, by the very part of the community whom he came to abuse. 
 
 ,4t the close of this exciting scene, preparations were made, as above 
 slated, by the return of the master of ceremonies and musicians to the 
 medicine-lodge, where also were admitted at the same time a number of 
 men, who were to be instruments of the cruelties to be inflicted ; and also 
 the chief and doctors of the tribe, who were to look on, and bear witness 
 to, and decide upon, the comparative degree of fortitude, with which the 
 young men sustain themselves in this most extreme and excruciating ordeal 
 The chiefs having seated themselves on one side of the lodge, dressed out 
 in their robes and splendid head-dresses — the band of music seated and 
 arranged themselves in another part ; and the old master of ceremonies 
 Iiaving placed himself in front of a small fire in the centre of the lodge, 
 with his " big pipe" i« his hands, and having commenced smoking to the 
 Great Spirit, with all possible vehemence for the success of these aspirants, 
 presented the subject for the third picture, which they call " pohk-liont;," 
 the cutting scene (plate 68). Around the sides of the lodge are seen, still 
 reclining, as I have before mentioned, a part of the group, whilst others of 
 them have passed the ordeal of self-tortures, and have been removed out of 
 the lodge ; and others still are seen in the very act of submitting to them, 
 which were inflicted in the following manner : — After having removed the 
 sanctissimus sanctorum, or little scaffold, of which 1 before spoke, and havintf 
 
 VOL. I • z 
 
' a different 
 comnicnced 
 till from lii^ 
 others, whc 
 fer was now 
 lolt Tor the 
 ■hrotigh the 
 he purpose, 
 ran on the 
 stones, and 
 from tlicir 
 blutrs, fronj 
 
 iight of him 
 [■ir voices in 
 rations were 
 ircre to take 
 t transpired, 
 
 jirit (0-kee- 
 if disturbing 
 ^ the supe- 
 1 in disgrace 
 |mc to abuse, 
 e, as above 
 :ians to the 
 number of 
 I ; and also 
 )ear witness 
 1 which the 
 ting ordeal 
 dressed out 
 seated and 
 ceremonies 
 the lodge, 
 king to the 
 >e aspirants, 
 lohk-honff," 
 e seen, still 
 1st others of 
 lOved out of 
 g to them, 
 moved the 
 and havintf 
 z 
 
I I 
 
 171 
 
 The unflinching fortitude, with whicli every one of them horc this part of 
 the torture surpassed credulity ; each one as the knife was passed through his 
 flesh sustained an unchangeable countenance ; and several of them, seeing 
 nie making sketches, beckoned me to look at their faces, which I watched 
 through all tiiis horrid operation, without being able to detect anything hut 
 the pleasantest smiles as they looked me in the eye, wliile I could hear the 
 knife rip tiuough the flesh, and feel enough of it myself, to start involuntary 
 and uncontrouliable tears over my cheeks. 
 
 When raised to the condition above described, and completely suspended 
 by the cords, the sanguinary hands, through which he had just passed, turned 
 back to perform a similar operation on another who was ready, and eacli 
 one in liis turn passed into the charge of others, who instantly introd.iced 
 liim to a new and improved stage of their refinements in cruelty. 
 
 Surrounded by imps ai>d demons as they appear, a dozen or more, who 
 seem to bo concerting and devising means for his exquisite agony, gather 
 around iiini, wlien one of the number advances towards him in a sneering 
 manner, and commences turning him around with a pole which he brings 
 in his hand for tlie purpose. This is done in a gentle manner at first ; but 
 gradually increased, when the brave fellow, whose proud spirit can controul 
 its agony no longer, burst out in the most lamentable and heart-rending 
 cries that the human voice is capable of producing, crying forth a prayer to 
 the Great Spirit to support and protect him in this dreadful trial ; and con- 
 tinually repeating his confidence in his protection. In this condition he is 
 continued to be turned, faster and faster — and there is no hope of escape 
 from it, nor chance for the slightest relief, until by fainting, his voice falters, 
 and his struggling ceases, and he hangs, apparently, a still and lifeless 
 corpse ! When he is, by turning, gradually brought lo tliis condition, 
 which is generally donj within ten or fifteen minutes, there is a close scru- 
 tiny passed upon him among his tormentors, who are checking and holding 
 each other back as long as the least struggling or tremour can be discovered, 
 lest he should be removed before he is (as they term it) " entirely dead." 
 
 When brought to this alarming and most frightful condition, • 1 the 
 turning has gradually ceased, as his voice and his strengtii have given out, 
 leaving liim to hang entirely still, and apparently lifeless ; when his tongue 
 is distended from his mouth, and his medicine-lay, which he has affection- 
 ately and superstitiously clung to with his left hand, has dropped to the 
 ground ; the signal is given to the men on top of the lodge, by gently 
 striking the cord with the pole below, when they very gradually and care- 
 fiilly lower him to the ground. 
 
 In this helpless condition he lies, like a loathsome corpse to look at, 
 though in the keeping (as they call it) of the Great Spirit, whom he trusts 
 will protect him, and enable him to get up and walk away. As soon [is he 
 is lowered to the ground thus, one of the bystanders advances, and pulls out 
 tilt' two splints or pins from the breasts and shoulders, thereby disengaging 
 
w 
 
 , i 
 
 11. 
 
 i; ' 
 
 u 
 
 ' 1 
 
 f 
 
 172 
 
 him from the cords by whicli he has been hung up ; but leaving- all iFie 
 others with their weights, &c. hanging to his flesh. 
 
 In this condition he lies for six or eight minutes, until he gets strength 
 to lisc and move himself, for no one is allowed to assist or ofl'er him aid, 
 as he i.5 here enjoying the most valued privilege which a Mandan can boast 
 of, that of " trusting his life to the keeping of the Great Spirit," in this 
 time of extreme peril. 
 
 As soon as he is seen to get strenf^th enough to rise on his hands and 
 feet, and drag his body around the lodge, he crawls with the weights still 
 hanging to his body, to another part of the lodge, where there is another 
 Indian sitting with a hatchet in his hand, and a dried buffalo skull before 
 him ; and here, in the most earnest and humble manner, by holding up the 
 little finger of his left hand to the Great Spirit, he expresses to Him, in a 
 speech of a few words, his willingness to give it as a sacrifice ; when he 
 lays it on the dried buffalo skull, where the other chops it off near the hand, 
 with a blow of the hatchet ! 
 
 Nearly all of the young men whom I saw passing this horrid ordeal, gave 
 in the above manner, the little finger of the left hand ; and I saw also 
 several, who immediately afterwards (and apparently with very little concern 
 or emotion), with a similar speech, extended in the same way, the fore- 
 fingcr of the same hand, and that too was struck off; leaving on the left 
 hand only the two middle fingers and the thumb ; all which they deem 
 absolutely essential for holding the bow, the oi.ly weapon for the left hand. 
 
 One would think that this mutilation had thus been carried quite far 
 enough ; but I have since examined several of the head chiefs and digni- 
 taries of the tribe, who have also given, in this manner, the little finger ot 
 the right hand, which is considered by them to be a much greater sacrifice 
 than both of the others; and I have found also a number of their most 
 famous men, who furnish me incontestible proof, by five or six correspon- 
 ding scars on each arm, and each breast, and each leg, that they had so 
 many times in their lives submitted to this almost incredible operation, 
 which seems to be optional with them ; and the oftener they volunteer to 
 go through it, the more famous they become in the estimation of their tribe. 
 
 No bandages are applied to the fingers which have been amputated, nor 
 any arteries taken up ; nor is any attention whatever, paid to them or the 
 other wounds ; but they are left (as they say) " for the Great Spirit to cure, 
 who will surely take good care of them." It is a remarkable fact (which I 
 learned from a close inspection of their wounds from day to day) that the 
 bleeding is but very slight and soon ceases, probably from the fact of their 
 extreme exhaustion and debility, caused by want of sustenance and sleep, 
 whicli checks the naturul circulation, and adn.irably at the same time pre- 
 pares them to meet the severity of these tortures without the same degree 
 of sensibility and pain, which, andur other circumstances, might result in 
 iullammation and death. 
 
 S L 
 
 1^ 
 
 aeamm 
 
173 
 
 During the whole of the time of this cruel part of these most extraordi- 
 nary inflictions, the chiefs and dignitaries of the tribe are looking on, to 
 decide who are the hardiest and " stoutest hearted" — who can hang the 
 longest by his flesh before he faints, and who will be soonest up, after 
 he has been down ; that they may know whom to appoint to lead a war- 
 party, or place at the most honourable and desperate post. The four old 
 men are incessantly beating upon the sacks of water and singing the whole 
 time, with their voices strained to the highest key, vaunting forth, for the 
 encouragement of the young men, the power and efficacy of the medicine- 
 pipe, which has disarmed the monster 0-kee-hee-de (or Evil Spirit), and 
 driven him from the village, and will be sure to protect them and watch over 
 them through their present severe trial. 
 
 As soon as six or eight had passed the ordeal as above descr'bed, they 
 were led out of the lodge, with their weights hanging to their flesh, and 
 dragging on the ground, to undergo another, and a still more appalling 
 mode of suffering in the centre of the village, and in presence of the whole 
 nation, in the manner as follows : — 
 
 The signal for the commencement of this part of the cruelties was given 
 by the old master of ceremonies, who again ran out as in the buflltlo- 
 dance, and leaning against the big canoe, with his medicine-pipe in his 
 hand, began to cry. This was done several times in the afternoon, as often 
 as there were six or eight who had passed the ordeal just described within 
 the lodge, who were then taken out in the open area, in the presence of the 
 whole village, with the buffalo skulls and other weights attached to their 
 flesh, and dragging on the ground ! There were then in readiness, and 
 prepared for the purpose, about twenty young men, selected of equal height 
 and equal nge ; with their bodies chiefly naked, with beautiful (and similar) 
 head-dresses of war-eagles' quills, on their heads, and a wreath made ol 
 willow bouglis held in the hands between tliem, connecting them in a chain 
 or circle in which they ran around the big canoe, with all possible speed 
 raising their voices in screams and yelps to the highest pilch that was pos- 
 sible, and keeping the curb or big canoe in the centre, as thf ir nucleus. 
 
 Tlien were led forward the young men who were further to suffer, and 
 being placed at equal distances apart, and outside of the ring just described, 
 each one was taken in charge of two athletic young men, fresh and strong, 
 who stepped i.p to him, one on each side, and by wrapping a broad Icath )r 
 strap around his wrists, without tying it, grasped it firm underneath the 
 hand, and stood prepared for what they call Eli-ke-nah-ka-nah-pic.k (the 
 last race, plate G9). Tiiis, the spectator looking on would suppose was 
 most correctly named, for he would think it was the last race they could 
 possibly run in tliis world. 
 
 In this condition they stand, pale and ghastly, from abstii -"(.e and loss 
 of blood, until all arc prepared, and the word is given, when ;i start and 
 nu; aroun<l, outside of tlie other ring ; and each poor fellow, w th his weights 
 
171 
 
 !< 1 
 
 I ,• 
 
 1*1 
 
 ) ' I 
 
 ilrajrging cm the ground, anil his furious conductors by his side, who hurry 
 limi forward by the wrists, struggles in the desperate emulation to run longer 
 without "dying" (as they call it) than his comrades, who are fainting 
 around him and sinking down, like himself, where their bodies are dragged 
 with all possible speed, and often with their faces in the dirt. In the com- 
 mencement of this dance or race they all start at a moderate pace, and their 
 speed being gradually increased, the pain becomes so excruciating that their 
 languid and exhausted frames give out, and they are dragged by their wrists 
 until they are disengaged from the weights that were attached to their flesh, 
 and this must be done !)y such violent force as to tear the flesh out with the 
 splint, wl'.ich (as they say) can never be pulled out endwise, without greatly 
 ofTending the Cireat Spirit and defeating the object for wh'ch they have thus 
 far suffered. The splints or skewers which arc put through the breast and 
 the shoulders, take up a part of the pectoral or trapezius muscle, v iiich '\s 
 necessary for the support of the great weight of their bodies, and which, as 
 I have before mentioned, are withdrawn as soon as he is lowered down — 
 but all the others, on the legs and arms, seem to be very ingeniously passed 
 through the flesh and integuments without taking up the muscle, and even 
 these, to be broken out, reijuirc so slioiig and so violent a force that n:osl 
 of the poor fellows fairted under the operation, and when they were freed 
 from the last of the 1 uff'alo skulls and other weights, (which was often done 
 by some of the bystanders throwing the weight of their bodies on to them as 
 they were dragging on the ground) they were in every instance dropped by 
 the persons who dragged them, and their bodies were left, appearii\g like 
 nothing but a mangled and a loathsome corpse! At this strange and tright- 
 ful juncture, the two men who had dragged them, fled through the crowd 
 and away upon the prairie, as if tliey were "Uiilty of some enormous crime, 
 and were fleeing from summary vengeat f 
 
 Each poor fellow, having thus paticnUy an manfully endured the priva- 
 tions and tortures devised ior him, an! in; Jiis last struggle with the most 
 appalling effort) torn himself loose from them and his tormentors, he lies the 
 second time, in the " keeping (as he terms it) of the Great Spirit," to whom 
 he issues his repeated prayers, and entrusts his life : and in whom h* 
 reposes the most implicit confidence for his preservntion and recovery. As 
 an evidence of this, and of the high value which these youths set upon this 
 privilege, tiiere is no person, not a relation or a chief of the tribe, who is 
 allowed, or who would dare, to step forward to otVer an aiding haiul, even *<i 
 save his life; foi not only the rigid customs of the nation, and the pride ol 
 the individual who has entrusted his life to the keeping of the Great Spirit, 
 would steridy reject such a tender; but their supurslilion, which is the 
 strongest of all arguments in an Indion conununity, would alone, hold all 
 the tr.' e in faar and dread of interfering, when they consider they have so 
 good a reason to believe that the Great Spirit has undertaken the special 
 c; -e and protection of hi devoted worshippers. 
 
who hurry 
 run longer 
 re fainting 
 ire dragged 
 n the com- 
 e, and their 
 g that their 
 their wrists 
 ) their Hosh, 
 out with tlie 
 hout grcatljf 
 2y have thus 
 i breast and 
 le, vidch is 
 nd which, as 
 ired down— 
 ion sly passed 
 :le, and even 
 rce that n <r l 
 :y were freed 
 s often done 
 an to thorn as 
 c dropped by 
 Ippearing hke 
 e and tVight- 
 1 the crowd 
 rmous crime, 
 
 ed the piiva- 
 'ilh the most 
 rs, he hes the 
 It," to whom 
 in whom h; 
 ceo very. A;, 
 set upon this 
 tribe, who is 
 land, even ''> 
 the pride ol 
 Great Spirit, 
 whicli is the 
 one, hold all 
 they have so 
 n the special 
 
 In this " last race," which was the struggle that finally dosed their suffer- 
 ings, each one was dragged until he fainted, and was thus 'eft, loo' ing more 
 like the dead than the living: and thus each one laid, u^itil, by the aid of 
 tlie Great S|)irit, he was in a few minutes seen gradually rising, and at last 
 reeling and staggering, like a drunken man, through the crowd (whiih nnido 
 way foi' him) to his wigwam, where his friends and relatives stood ready 
 to take him into hand and restore him. 
 
 In this frightful scene, as in the buffalo-dance, the whole nation was 
 assen bled as spectators, and all raisetl the most piercing and violent yells 
 and screams they could possibly produce, to drown theories of the sutlering 
 ones, that no heart could even be touched with sympathy for them. I have 
 mentioned before, that six or eight of the young men were brought from the 
 medicine-lodge at a time, and when tlicy were thus passed through this 
 shocking .)rtleal, the medicine-men and tlie cliiefs returned lu the inte- 
 rior, where as many more were soon prepared, and underwent a similar treat- 
 ment ; and after that another batch, and another, and so on, until the whole 
 number, some forty-five or fifty had run in this sickening circle, and, by 
 leaving their weights, had opened the Hesh for honourable scars. I said all, 
 but there was one poor fellow though (and 1 shudder to tell it), who was 
 dragged around and around the circle, with the skull of an elk hanging to 
 the flesh on one jf his legs, — several had jumped upon it, but to no effect, 
 for the splint was under the sinew, which eoidd not be broken. The 
 dragging became every instant more and more furious, and the apprehen- 
 sions for the poor fellow's life, apparent by the piteous howl which was 
 set up for him by the multitude around ; and at last the medicine-man ran, 
 with ins medicnie-pipe in his hand, and held them in check, when the body 
 was dropped, and left upon the ground, with the skull yet hanging to it. 
 The boy, who was an extremely interesting arid fine-looking youth, sooa 
 recovered his senses and his strength, looking deliberate'" •^^ his torn and 
 bleeding limbs ; and also with the most pleasant smile of defiance, upon the 
 misfortune which had now fallen to his peculiar lot, crawled thrc^ i the 
 crowd (instead of walking, which they are nevtv again at liber to do 
 until the flesh is torn out, and the article left) to the prairie, and over 
 which, for tin; distance of half a mile, to a secpiestoroi spot, without any 
 attendant, where he laid three days and three '.ights, yet longer, without 
 food, and praying to the Great Spirit, until ouppuiation took place m the 
 wound, and by the decaying of the flesh liie .veight was i) opped, and 
 the splint also, which he dare not extricate in another way. At the end 
 of this, he crawled back to the village on his hands and knees, being 
 too much emaciated to walk, and begged for something to cat, which was at 
 once given him, and he was soon restored to health. 
 
 These extreme and difficult cases often occur, and I learn that in such 
 instances the youth has it at his option to get rid of the weight that is thus 
 left upon him, in such way as he may choose, and some of those n- ^des are 
 
 — 1»4 
 
III''! ;ll'i 
 ':, i o 
 
 i i ''11 
 
 i a. 
 
 
 176 
 
 far more extraordinary than the one which I have just named. Several 
 the Traders, whc have been tor a number of years in the habit of seeing this 
 part of the ceremony, have told me that two years since, when they were 
 looking on, th^re was one whose flesh on the arms was so strong that the 
 weights could not be left, and he dragged them with lis body to the river 
 by the side of the village, where he set a stake fast in the ground on 
 the top of fhe bank, and fastening cords to it, he let himself half-way 
 down a perpendicular wall of rock, of twenty-five or tliirty feet, where the 
 weight of '.lis body was suspended by the two cords attached to the flesh 
 of his arms. In this awful condition he hung for several days, eijui-distant 
 from the top of the rock and the deep water below, into which he at last 
 dropped and saved himself by swimming ashore ! 
 
 I need record no more of these shocking and ciisgusting instances, of 
 which I have already given enough to convince the world of the correct- 
 nt ' of the estabUshed fdCt of the Indian's superior stoicism and power of 
 endurance, although some recent writers have, from motives of envy, from 
 ignorance, or something else, taken great pains to cut the poor Indian short 
 in everything, and in this, even as if it were a virtue. 
 
 I am ready to accord to them in this particular, the palm; the credit 
 of outdoing anything and everybody, and of enduring more than civilized man 
 ever aspired to or ever thought of. My heart has sickened also with 
 disgust for so abominable and ignorant a custom, and still I stand ready 
 with all my heart, to excuse and forgive them for adhering so strictly 
 to an ancient celebration, founded in superstitions and mysteries, of which 
 they know not the origin, and constituting a material part and featurt 
 in the code and forms of their religion. 
 
 Reader, I will return with you a moment to the medicine-iodge, which is 
 just to be closed, p,nd then we will indulge in some general reflections upon 
 what has pass( (i, and in what, and for what purposes this strange batch of 
 mysteries has been instituied and perpetuated. 
 
 After these young men, who had for the last four days occupied the me- 
 dicine-lodge, had been operated on, in the manner above described, and 
 taken out of it, the old medicine-n.an, master of ceremonies, returned, 
 (still crywsg to the Great Spirit) sole tenant of that sacred place, and brought 
 out the •' edged tools," which I before said had been collected at the door 
 ot'evrrv n^cv. a v-igwam, to be given as a sacrifice to the water, and leaving 
 the lodgf: secure!; fastened, he approached the bank of the river, when all 
 the nc'dicme-meii .ttended him, and all the nation were spectators; and in 
 their presence he threw them from a high bank into very deep water, from 
 which they caiuicl I e recovered, and where they are, correctly speakii;g, 
 made a sac-ince to tho water. This part of the affair took place just exactly 
 at sun-dowt and closed the scene, being the tnd or finale of the Mandan 
 ■ eligious certi.wny. 
 
 W^ 
 
 Hi U 
 
 ill ' ' 
 
 ill: t i^ «^. ■ ■ 
 
 .*;%|;« 
 
 \ 
 
Several 
 f seeing this 
 ;n they were 
 ong that the 
 r to the river 
 5 ground on 
 self half-way 
 ct, where the 
 I to the flesh 
 ,, equi-distant 
 lich he at last 
 
 ; instances, of 
 if the correct- 
 and power of 
 of envy, from 
 r Indian short 
 
 m; the credit 
 n civilized man 
 ■ned also with 
 1 I stand ready 
 ing so strictly 
 ;erie8, of which 
 lit and featurt 
 
 odge, which is 
 eflections upon 
 ange batch of 
 
 ;upied the me- 
 described, and 
 -lies, returned, 
 U, and brought 
 led at the door 
 [r, and leaving 
 
 river, when all 
 Hators ; and in 
 lep water, from 
 
 ectly speaking, 
 
 Ice just exactly 
 
 the, Mandan 
 
 ^i 
 
', :r 
 
 i 
 
 ttf 
 
 
 i 
 
 n . 
 
 ■ 
 
 . i 
 
 m' 
 
 i 
 
177 
 
 The rev Icr will forgive mc for here inserting the Certificates which I have 
 just received from Mr Kipp, of the city of New York, and two others, 
 who were with me ; uhich I offer for the satisfaction of the world, 
 who read the above account. 
 
 " We hereby certify, that we witnessed, in company with Mr. Catlin, in 
 the Mandan Village, the ceremonies represented in the four paintings, and 
 described in his Notes, to which this Certifcate refers ; and that he has 
 therein faithfully represented those scenes as we saw them transacted, 
 without any addition or exaggeration. 
 
 " J. Kivv, Agent Amer. Fur Company. 
 L. Crawfoud, Clerk. 
 "Mandan Village, July 20, 1833. Abuaiiam Booard." 
 
 The strange country that I am in — its excitements — its accidents and wild 
 incidents which startle me at almost every moment, prevent me from any 
 very elaborate disqiiij'**jn upon the above remarkable events at present ; 
 and even had I all the time and leisure of a country gentleman, and all the 
 additional infomation which I am daily procuring, and daily expect to pro- 
 cure hereafter in explanation of these unaccountable mysteries, yet do I 
 fear that there would be that inexplicable difficulty that hangs over most of 
 the customs and traditions of these simple people, who have no history to 
 save facts and systems from falling into the most absurd and disjointed fable 
 and ignorant fiction. 
 
 What few plausible inferences I have as yet been able to draw from the 
 above strange and peculiar transactions I will set forth, but with some diffi- 
 dence, hoping and trusting that by further intimacy and familiarity with 
 these people I may yet arrive at more satisfactory and important results. 
 
 That these people should have a tradition of the Flood is by no means 
 surprising ; as I have learned from every tribe I have visited, that they 
 all have some high mountain in their vicinity, where they insist upon it the 
 big canoe landed ; but that these people should hold an annual celebration 
 of the event, and the season of that decided by such circumstances as the 
 full leaf of the willow, and the medicine-lodge opened by such a man as 
 Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (who appears to be a white man), and making his 
 appearance " from the high-mountains in the West •' and some other cir- 
 cumstances, is surely a very remarkable thing, and requires some extraor- 
 dinary attention. 
 
 This Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (first or only man) is undoubtedly some 
 mystery or medicine-man of the tribe, who has gone out on the prairie on the 
 evening previous, and having dressed and painted himself for the occasion, 
 comes into the village in the morning, endeavouring to keep up the semblance 
 of reality ; for their tradition says, that at a very ancient period s\ .ch a man 
 did actually come from the West — that his body was of the white colour, as 
 
 VOL. 1. -^ A 
 
178 
 
 <ii 
 
 this man's body is represented — that he wore a rol)e of four while wolfskin* 
 — his head-dress was made of two raven's skins — and in his Uft liand was a 
 huge pipe. He said, *' he was at one time the only man — he told them of 
 the destruction of every thing on tiic earth's surface by water — that he 
 stopped in his bi(f canoe on a high mountain in the West, where he landed 
 and was saved." 
 
 "Thnt the Mandans, and all other people were bound to make yearly 
 sacrifices of some edged-tools to the water, for of such tilings the big canoe 
 was made. That he instructed the Mandans how to build their medicine- 
 lodge, and taught tliem also the forms of these annual ceremonies ; and told 
 them that as long as they made these sacrifices, and performed their rites to the 
 full letter, they might be assured of the fact, that they would be the favourite 
 people of the Almighty, and would always have enough to eat and drink ; 
 and that so soon as they should depart in one tittle from these forms, ihcy 
 might be assured, that their race would decrease, and finally run out ; and 
 that they might date their nation's calamity to that omission or neglect." 
 
 These people have, no doubt, been long living under the dread of such 
 an injunction, and in the fear of departing from it ; and while they are living 
 in total ignorance of its origin, the world must remain equally ignorant of 
 much of its meaning, as they needs must be of all Indian customs resting 
 on ancient traditions, whicii soon run into fables, having lost all their sys- 
 tem, by which they might have been construed. 
 
 This strange and unaccountable custom, is undoubtedly peculiar to the 
 Mandans ; although, amongst the Minatarees, and some others of the 
 neighbouring tribes, they have seasons of abstinence and self-torture, some- 
 what similar, but bearing no other resemblance to this than a mere feeble 
 eflfort or form of imitation. 
 
 It would seem from their tradition of the willow branch, and the dove, 
 that these people must have had some proximity to some part of the civilized 
 world ; or that missionaries or others have been formerly among them, 
 inculcating the Christian religion and the Mosaic account of the Flood ; 
 which is, in this and some other respects, decidedly different from the theory 
 which most natural people have distinctly established of that event. 
 
 There are other strong, and almost decisive proofs in my opinion, in support 
 of the assertion, which are to be drawn from the diversity of colour in their 
 hair and complexions, as I have before described, as well as from their tra- 
 dition just related, of the "Jirst or only mem," whose body was white, and 
 who came from the West, telling them of the destruction of the earth by 
 water, and instructing them in the forms of these mysteries ; and, in addition 
 to the above, I will add the two following very curious stories, which I had 
 from several of their old and dig..ified chiefs, and which are, no doubt, 
 standing and credited traditions of the tribe. 
 
 " The Mandans (people of the pheasants) were the first people created 
 iu the world, and they originally lived inside of the earth ; they raised many 
 
 W 
 
 
 IS L i 
 
176 
 
 itc wolf skin* 
 I't liaiul WHS a 
 • told tluin of 
 liter — tliiit lie 
 ere he landed 
 
 make yearly 
 the big canoe 
 leir niediciiic- 
 nics ; and told 
 heir riles to the 
 )e the favourite 
 3at and drink ; 
 se forms, ihey 
 ' run out ; and 
 or neglect." 
 dread of such 
 they are living 
 ally ignorant of 
 customs resting 
 St all their sys- 
 
 peculiar to the 
 others of the 
 
 -torture, some- 
 a mere feeble 
 
 and the dove, 
 
 of the civilized 
 
 among them, 
 
 of the Flood ; 
 
 from the theory 
 
 event. 
 
 ion, in support 
 colour in their 
 from their tra- 
 was white, and 
 -f the earth by 
 [nd, in addition 
 IS, which I had 
 are, no doubt, 
 
 [people created 
 ey raised many 
 
 vines, and one of them had grown up through a hole in the earth, over 
 li(a(l,iuid one of their young men climbed up it until he came out on the 
 top of the ground, on the bank of the river, where the Mandan village 
 stand- Ho looked around, and iidniired the beautiful country and prairies 
 about him — saw u)any buH'aloes — killed one with liis bow and arrows, and 
 fouii.i that its meat was good to eat. He returned, and related what he 
 had seen ; when a numlur if others went tip the vine with hiui, and wit- 
 u'^ssed the same things. Amongst those who went up, were two very pretty 
 young women, who were favourites of the cliiefs, because they were virgins ; 
 and amongst those who were trying to get up, was a very large and fat 
 woman, who was ordered by the chiefs not to go u]», l)ut whose curiosity 
 letl her to try it as soon as she got a secret opportunity, when there was 
 no one present. When she got part of the way up, the vine broke under 
 the great weight of her body, and let her down. Siie was very much hurt 
 by the fiill, but did not die. The Mandans were very sorry about this; and 
 she was disgraced for being the cause of a very great calamity, which she 
 had brought upon them, and which could never be averted; for no more 
 could ever ascend, nor could those descend wlio had got up ; but they built 
 ♦he Mandan village, where it funnerly stood, a great ways below on the 
 river; and the remainder of the people live under grou id to this day." 
 
 The al)ove tradition is told with great gravity by >"iieir chiefs and doctors 
 or mystery-men ; and the latter profess to hear their friends talk through the 
 earth at certain times and places, and even consult them for their opinions 
 and advice on many important occasions 
 The next tradition runs thus : — 
 
 " At a very ancient period, 0-kee-hee-de (the Evil Spirit, the black fel- 
 low mentioned in the religious ceremonies) came to the Mandan village 
 with Nu-mohk-muek-a-nah (the first or only man) from the West, and sat 
 down by a woman who had but one eye, and was hoeing corn. Her daugh- 
 ter, who was very pretty came up to her, and the Evil Spirit desired her to 
 go and bring some water; but wished that before she started, .she would 
 come to him and eat some buffalo meat. He told her to take a piece out 
 of Lis side, which she did and ate it, which proved to be buftalo-fat. She 
 then went for the water, which she brought, and met them in the village 
 where they had walked, and they both drank of it — nothing more was 
 (lone. 
 
 *' The friends of the girl soon after endeavoured to disgrace her, by telling 
 her that she was enciente, which she did i.ot deny. She declared her in- 
 nocence at the same time, and boldly defied any man in the village to come 
 forward and accuse her. This raised -i great excitement in the village, and 
 as no one could stand forth to accuse her, she was looked upon as (jrcat 
 medicine. She soon after went off secretly to the upper Mandan village, 
 where the child was born. 
 " Great search was made for her before she was found ; as it was expected 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
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180 
 
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 that the child would also be great medicine or mystery, and of great impor- 
 tance to the existence and welfare of the tribe. They were induced to this 
 belief from the very strange manner of its conception and birth, and were 
 soon confirmed in it from the wonderful things which it did at an early 
 age. They say, that amongst other miracles which he performed, when the 
 Mandans were like to starve, he gave them four buffalo bulls, which filled 
 the whole village — leaving as much meat as there was before they had eaten ; 
 saying that these four bulls would supply them for ever. Nu-mohk-muck- 
 a-nah (the first or only man) was bent on the destruction of the child, and 
 after making many fruitless searches for it, found it hidden in a dark place, 
 and put it to death by throwing it into the river. 
 
 " When 0-kee-hee-de (the Evil Spirit) heard of the death of this child, 
 he sought for Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah with intent to kill him. He traced him 
 a long distance, and at length found him at Heart River, about seventy 
 miles below the village, with the big medicine-pipe in his hand, the charm 
 or mystery of which protects him from all of his enemies. They soon 
 agreed, however, to become friends, smoked the big pipe together, and re- 
 turned to the Mandan village. The Evil Spirit was satisfied; and Nu- 
 mohk-muck-a-na told the Mandans never to pass Heart River to live, for 
 it was the centre of the world, and to live beyond it would be destruction 
 to them ; and he named it Nat-com-pa-sa-hah (heart or centre of the 
 world)." 
 
 Such are a few of the principal traditions of these people, which I have 
 thought proper to give in this place, and I have given them in their 
 own way, with all the imperfections and absurd inconsistencies which 
 should be expected to characterize the history of all ignorant ana super- 
 stitious people who live in a state of simple and untaught nature, with no 
 other means of perpetuating historical events, than by oral traditions. 
 
 I advance these vague stories then, as I have done, and shall do in other 
 instances, not in support of any theory, but merely as I have heard tliem 
 related by the Indians; and preserved them, as I have everything else that 
 I could meet in the Indian habits and character, for the information of the 
 world, who may get more time to theorize than I have at present ; and who 
 may consider better than I can, how far such traditions should be taken as 
 evidence of the facts, that these people have for a long period preserved and 
 perpetuated an imperfect knowledge of the Deluge — of the appearance and 
 death of a Saviour — and of the transgressions of mother Eve. 
 
 I am not yet able to learn from these people whether they have any dis- 
 tinct theory of the creation ; as they seem to date nothing further back 
 than their own existence as a people ; saying (as I have before mentioned), 
 that they were the first people created ; involving the glaring absurdities 
 that they were the only people on earth before the Flood, and the only one 
 saved was a white man ; or that they were created inside of the earth, as 
 their tradition says; and that they did not make tlu3ir appearance on its 
 
181 
 
 outer surface until after the Deluge. Wlicn an Indian story is told, it is 
 like all other gifts, " to be taken for what it is worth," and for any seeming 
 inconsistency in their traditions there is no remedy ; for as far as 1 have 
 tried to reconcile them by reasoning with, or questioning them, I have been 
 entirely defeated ; and more than that, have generally incurred their distrust 
 and ill-will. One of the Mandan doctors told me very gravely a few 
 days since, that the earth was a large tortoise, that it carried the dirt on its 
 back — that a tribe of people, who are now dead, and whose faces were 
 white, used to dig down very deep in this ground to catch badgers ; and 
 that one day they stuck a knife through the tortoise-shell, and it sunk 
 down so that the water ran over its back, and drowned all but one man. 
 And on the next day while 1 was painting his portrait, he told me there 
 wereybttr tortoises, — one in the North — one in the East — one in the South, 
 and one in the West ; that each one of these rained ten days, and the water 
 covered over the earth. 
 
 These ignorant and conflicting accounts, and both from the same man, 
 give as good a demonstration, perhaps, of what I have above mentioned, 
 as to the inefficiency of Indian traditions as anything I could at present 
 mention. They might, perhaps, have been in this instance however the 
 creeds of different sects, or of different priests auiongst them, who often 
 advance diametrically opposite theories and traditions relative to history 
 and mythology. 
 
 And however ignorant and ridiculous they may seem, they are yet worthy 
 of a little further consideration, as relating to a number of curious circum- 
 stances connected with the unaccountable religious ceremonies which I 
 have just described 
 
 The Mandan chiefs and doctors, in all their feasts, where the pipe is lit 
 and about to be passed around, deliberately propitiate the good-will and 
 favour of the Great Spirit, by extending the stem of the pipe upwards be- 
 fore they snioko it themselves ; and also as deliberately and as strictly 
 offering the stem to the four cardinal points in succession, and then drawing 
 a whiff through it, passing it around amongst the group. 
 
 The annual religious ceremony invariably lasts foiir days, and the other 
 following circumstances attending these strange forms, and seeming to have 
 fome allusion to the four cardinal points, or the " four tortoises," seem to 
 me to be worthy of further notice. Four men are selected by Nu-mohk- 
 muck-a-nah (as I have before said), to cleanse out and prepare the medicine- 
 lodge for the occasion — one he calls from the north part of the village — 
 one from the east — one from the south, and one from the west. The four 
 sacks of water, in form of large tortoises, resting on the floor of the lodge 
 and before described, would seem to be typical of the same thing ; and also 
 the four buffalo, and the/o«r ^juman skulls resting on the floor of the same 
 lodge — the/owr couples of dancers in the " bull-dance," as before described ; 
 and also the /o«r intervening dancers in the same dance, and also described. 
 
m 
 
 The bull-dance in front of tho medicine-lodge, repealed on the /our days, 
 is daneed /our times on the first day, eight times on the second, twelve times 
 on the third, and sixteen times on the fourth ; (adding four dances on each 
 o{ the four days,) which added together make forty, the exact number ot 
 days that it rained upon the earth, according to the Mosaic account, to pro- 
 duce the Deluge. There are /our sacrifices of black and blue cloths erected 
 over the door of the medicine-lodge — the visits of Oh-kee-hee-de (or Evil 
 Spirit) were paid to /our of the buffaloes in the buffalo-dance, as above de- 
 scribed ; and in every instance, the young men who underwent the tortures 
 before explained, had four splints or skewers run through the flesh on their 
 legs — four through the arms and four through the body. 
 
 Such is a brief account of these strange scenes which I have just been 
 witnessing, and such my brief history of the Mandans. 1 might write much 
 more on them, giving yet a volume on their stories and traditions ; but it 
 vould be a volume of fables, and scarce worth recording. A nation of Indians 
 in their primitive condition, where there are no historians, have but a 
 temporary historical existence, for the reasons above advanced, and their 
 history, what can be certainly learned of it, may be written in a very small 
 compass. 
 
 I have dwelt longer on the history and customs of these people than I have 
 or shall on any other tribe, in all probability, and that from the fact that I 
 have found them a very peculiar people, as will have been seen by my 
 notes. 
 
 From these very numerous and striking peculiarities in their personal ap- 
 pearance — their customs — traditions and language, I have been led conclu- 
 sively to believe that they are a people of decidedly a different origm from 
 that of any other tribe in these regions. 
 
 From these reasons, as well as from the fact that they are a small and 
 feeble tribe, against whom the powerful tribe of Sioux are waging a deadly 
 war with the prospect of their extermination ; and who with their limited 
 numbers, are not likely to hold out long in their struggle for existence, I 
 have taken more pains to pourtray their whole character, than my limited 
 means will allow me to bestow upon other tribes. 
 
 From the ignorant and barbarous and disgusting customs just recited, the 
 world would naturally infer, that these people must be the most cruel and 
 inhuman beings in the world — yet, such is not the case, and it becomes my 
 duty to say it ; a better, more honest, hospitable and kmd people, as a com- 
 munity, are not to be found in the world. No set of men that ever I 
 associated with have better hearts than the Mandans, and none are quicker 
 to embrace and welcome a white man than they are — nono will press him 
 closer to his bosom, that the pulsation of his heart may be felt, than a 
 Mandan ; and no man in any country will keep his word and guard his 
 honour more closely. 
 
 The shocking and disgusting custom that I have just described, sickens 
 
183 
 
 the heart and even the stomach of a traveller in the country, and he weeps 
 for their ignorance — he pities them with all his heart for their blindness, and 
 laments that the light of civilization, of agriculture and religion cannot be 
 extended to them, and that their hearts which are good enough, could not be 
 turned to embrace something more rational and conducive to their true 
 happiness. 
 
 Many would doubtless ask, whether such a barbarous custom oould be 
 eradicated from these people ? and whether their thoughts and tastes, being 
 turned to agriculture and 'eligion, could be made to abandon the dark and 
 random channel in which tney are drudging, and made to flow in the light 
 and life of civilization ? 
 
 To this query I answer yes. Although this is a custom of long standing, 
 being a part of their religion ; and probably valued as one of their dearest 
 rights; and notwithstanding the difficulty of making inroads upon the 
 religion of a people in whose country there is no severence of opinions, and 
 consequently no division into different sects, with different creeds to shake 
 their faith ; 1 still believe, and I knoiv, that by a judicir ds and persevering 
 effort, this abominable custom, and others, might be extinguished, and the 
 beautiful green fields about the Mandan village might be turned into pro- 
 ductive gardens, and the waving green bluffs that are spread in the surround- 
 ing distance, might be spotted with lowing kine, instead of the sneaking 
 wolves and the hobbled war-horses that are now stalking about them. 
 
 All ignorant and superstitious people, it is a well-known fact, are the most 
 fixed and stubborn in their religious opinions, and perhaps the most difficult 
 to divert from their established belief, from the very fact that they are the 
 most difficult to reason with. Here is an ignorant race of human beings, 
 who have from time immemorial been in the habit of worshipping in their 
 own way, and of enjoying their religious opinions without ever having heard 
 any one to question their correctness; and in those opinions they are quiet 
 and satisfied, and it requires a patient, gradual, and untiring effort to con- 
 vince such a people that they are wrong, and to work the desired change in 
 their belief, and consequently in their actions. 
 
 It is decidedly my opinion, however, that such a thing can be done, and 
 I do not believe there is a race of wild people on earth where the expuiment 
 could be more successfully made than amongst the kind and hospitable 
 Mandans, nor any place where the Missionary labours of pious and indus- 
 trious men would be ftiore sure to succeed, or more certain to be rewarded 
 in the world to come. 
 
 I deem such a trial of patience and perseverance with these people of great 
 importance, and well worth the experiment. One which I shall hope soon 
 to see accomplished, and which, if properly conducted, I am sure will result 
 in success. Severed as they are from the contaminating and counteracting 
 vices which oppose and thwart most of the best efforts of the Missionaries 
 along the frontier, and free from the almost fatal prejudices which they have 
 
184 
 
 III 
 
 III 
 
 ! ■' ■! 
 
 ) ■ I. 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 '! ■ <ftf 
 
 is 
 
 
 there to contend with ; they present a better field for the labours of such 
 benevolent teachers than they have yet worked in, and a far better chance 
 than they have yet had of proving to the world that the poor Indian is not 
 a brute — that he is a human and humane being, that he is capable of 
 improvement — and that his mind is a beautiful blank on which anything 
 can be written if the proper means be taken. 
 
 The Mandans being but a small tribe, of two thousand only, and living 
 all in two villages, in sight of each other, and occupying these perma- 
 nently, without roaming about like other neighbouring tribes, offer un- 
 doubtedly, the best opportunity for such an experiment of any tribe in the 
 country. The land about their villages is of the best quality for ploughing 
 and grazing, and the water just such as would be desired. Their villages 
 are fortified with piquets or stockades, which protect them from the assaults 
 of their enemies at home; and the introduction of agriculture (which 
 would supply them with the necessaries and luxuries of life, without the 
 necessity of continually exposing their lives to iheir more numerous ene- 
 mies on the plains, when they are seeking in the chase the means of 
 their subsistence) would save them from the continual wastes of life, to 
 which, in their wars and the chase they are continually exposed, and 
 which are calculated soon to result in their extinction. 
 
 I deem it not folly nor idle to say that these people can be saved, nor 
 ofHcious to suggest to some of the very many excellent and pious men, who 
 are almost throwing away the best energies of their lives along the debased 
 frontier, that if they would introduce the ploughshare and their prayers 
 amongst (hese people, who are so far separated from the taints and con- 
 taminating vices of the frontier, they would soon see their most ardent 
 desires accomplished and be able to solve to the world the perplexing 
 enigma, by presenting a nation of savages, civilized and christianized (and 
 consequently saved), in the heart of the American wilderness. 
 
 . >. 
 
LETTER— No. 23. 
 
 MINATARKE VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Soon after witnessinu; the curious scenes described in the former Letters, 
 I changed my position to the place from whence I am now writing — to tlie 
 village of the Minatarees, wiiich is also located on the west bank of the 
 Missouri river, and only eight miles above the Mandans. On my way down 
 the river in my canoe, 1 passed this village without J>*tending to their earnest 
 and clamorous invitations for me to come ashore, and it will thus be seen 
 that I am retrograding a little, to see all that is to be seen in this singular 
 country. 
 
 I have been residing here some weeks, and am able already to say of 
 these people as follows : — 
 
 The Minatarees (people of the willows) are a small tribe of about 1500 
 souls, residing in three villages of earth-covered lodges, on the banks of 
 Knife river; a small stream, so called, meandering through a beautiful and 
 extensive praiiie, and uniting its waters witli the Missouri. 
 
 This small community is undoubtedly a part of the tribe of Crows, of 
 whom I have already spoken, living at the base of the Rocky Mountains, 
 who have at some remote period, either in their war or hunting excursions, 
 been run off by their enemy, and their retreat having been prevented, have 
 thrown themselves upon the hospitality of the Mandans, to whom they have 
 looked for protection, and under whose wing they are now living in a sort 
 of confederacy, ready to intermarry and also to join, as they often have 
 done, in the common defence of their country. 
 
 In language and personal appearance, as well as in many of their customs, 
 they are types of the Crows; yet having adopted and so long lived under 
 its influence, the system of the Mandans, they are much like them in many 
 n spects, and continually assimilating to the modes of their patrons and j)ro- 
 tectors. Amongst their vague and various traditions they have evidently 
 some disjointed authority for the manner in which they came here ; but no 
 account of the time. They say, that they came poor — without wigwams or 
 horses — were nearly all women, as their warriors had been killed off in their 
 flight ; that the Mandans would not take them into their village, nor let them 
 come nearer than where they are now living, and there assisted them to 
 build their villages. From these circumstances their wigwams have been 
 constructed exactly in the same manner as tiiosc of the Mandans, which 1 
 
 VOL. I . h t> 
 
 i 
 
1B6 
 
 have already dcscribeJ, and entirely distinct from any custom to be seen in 
 the Crow tribe. 
 
 Notwithstanding the long familiarity in which they have lived with the 
 Mandans, and the complete adoption of most of their customs, yet it is 
 almost an unaccountable fact, that there is scarcely a man in the tribe who 
 can speak half a dozen words of the Mandan language ; although on the 
 other hand, the Mandans are most of them able to converse in the Minataree 
 tongue ; leaving us to conclude, either that the Minatarees are a very inert 
 and stupid people, or that the Mandan language (which is most probably 
 \he case) being different from any other language in the country, is an 
 exceedingly difficult one to leorn. 
 
 The principal village of the Minatarees which is built upon the bank of 
 the Knife river (plate 70), contains forty or fifty earth-covered wigwams, 
 i'rom forty to fifty feet in diameter, and being elevated, overlooks the other 
 two. which are on lower ground and almost lost amidst their numerous corn 
 fields and other profuse vegetation which cover the oarth with their luxuriant 
 growth. 
 
 The scenery along the banks of this little river, from village to village, is 
 quite peculiar and curious ; rendered extremely so by the continual wild 
 and garrulous groups ofmer an, and children, who are wending their 
 
 way along its winding shores ishing and plunging through its blue 
 
 waves, enjoying the luxury of .rmirning, of which both sexes seem to be 
 passionately fond. Others are paddling about in thtlr tub-like canoes, 
 made of the skins of buffaloes ; and every now and then, are to be seen 
 their sudatories, or vapour-baths (plate 71), where steam is raised by 
 throwing water on to heated stones ; and the patient jumps from his sweat- 
 ing-house and leaps into the river in the highest state of perspiration, as 1 
 have more fully described whilst speaking of the baching of the Mandans. 
 
 The chief sachem of this tribe is a very ancient and patriarchal looking 
 man, by the name of Eeh-tohk-pah-shee-pee-shah (the black moccasin), 
 and counts, undoubtedly, more than an hundred snows. I have been for 
 some days an inmate of his hospitable lodge, where he sits tottering with 
 age, and silently reigns sole monarch of his little community around him, 
 who are continually dropping in to cheer his sinking energies, and render 
 him their homage. His voice and his sight are nearly gone ; but the ges- 
 tures of his hands are yet energetic and youthful, and freely speak tlie 
 language of his kind heart. 
 
 I have been treated in the kindest manner by this old chief; and have 
 painted his portrait (platb 72) as he was seated on the floor of his wigwam, 
 smoking his pipe, whilst he was recounting over to me some of the extraor- 
 dinary feats of his life, with a beautiful Crow robe wrapped around him, 
 and his hair wound up in a conical form upon his head, and fastened with 
 a small wooden pin, to keep it in its place 
 
 This man has many distinct recollections of Lewis and Clarke, who were 
 
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 tlic first explorers of tliis country, mid wlio crossed the Rocky Mountains 
 thirty years aj^o. It will be seen by rcterence to tlicir very interesti'ig history of 
 their tour, that they were treated willi i;reat kiiidnci.s by this niuii ; and that 
 tliey in conse(|uence constituted him chief of the tribe, with the consent of his 
 |)eo]>lc ; and lie has remained their chief ever since. He enquired very 
 earnestly for •* Red Hair" and " Long Knife" (as he had eve' since termed 
 Lewis and Clarke), from the fact, tliat one had red hair (an unexampled thing 
 in his country), and the other wore a broad sword which gained for him the 
 appellation of " Long Knife," 
 
 I have told him that " Long Knife" has been many years dead ; and 
 that " Red Hair" is yet living in St. Louis, and no doubt, would be glad to 
 hear of him ; at which he seemed much pleased, and has signified to me 
 that he will make me bearer of some peculiar dispatches to him.* 
 
 The name by which these people are generally called (Grosventres) is one 
 given them by the French Traders, and has probably been applied to them 
 with some degree of propriety or fitness, as contradistinguished from the Man- 
 dans, amongst whom these Traders were living ; and who are a small race 
 of Indians, being generally at or belov the average stature of man ; whilst 
 the Minatarees are generally tall and heavily built. There is no tribe in the 
 western wilds, perhaps, who arc better entitled to the style of warlike, than 
 the Minatarees; for they, unlike the Mandans, are continually carrying 
 . war into their enemies' country ; oftentimes drawing the poor Mandans into 
 unnecessary broils, and sufl'ering so much themselves in their desperate war- 
 excursions, that I find the proportion of women to the number of men as 
 two or three to one, through the tribe. 
 
 The son of Black Moccasin, whose name is Ee-a-chin-che-a (the red 
 thunder), and who is reputed one of the most desperate warriors of his 
 tribe, I have also painted at full length, in his war-dress (plate 73), with 
 his bow in his hand, his quiver slung, and his shield upon his arm. In 
 this plight, sails head-dress, sans robe, and sans everything that might be 
 an useless incumbrance — with the body chiefly naked, and profusely be- 
 daubed with red and black paint, so as to form an almost perfect disguise, 
 the Indian warriors invariably sally forth to war ; save the chief, who always 
 plumes himself, and leads on his little band, tendering himself to his 
 enemies a conspicuous mark, with all his ornaments and trophies upon him ; 
 that his enemies, if they get him, may get a prize worth the fighting for. 
 
 Besides chiefs and warriors to be admired in thij little tribe, there are 
 many beautiful and voluptuous looking women, who are continually crowding 
 in throngs, and gazing upon a stranger ; and possibly shedding more be- 
 
 • About a year after writing the above, and wbilst I was in St. Louis, 1 had the plea- 
 8uie of presenting the compliments of this old veteran to General Clarke ; and also of 
 shewing to him the portrait, which he instantly recognized amongst hundreds of others j 
 Kiiying, that "they had considered the Black Moccasin quite an old man when thej 
 ui)|)ointed him chief thirty-two years ago." 
 
 '' iH'ii 
 
188 
 
 witcMng; smiles from a sort of necessity, growing out of the great disparity 
 in numbers between tliem and tlie rougher sex, to wliic'.i I have before 
 alluded. 
 
 From the very numerous groups of these thnt have from day to day con- 
 stantly pressed upon me, overlooking the operations of my brush ; I have 
 been unable *o got more than one who would consent to have her portrait 
 painted, owing to some fear or dread of harm that might eventually ensue 
 in consequence ; or from a natural coyness or timidity, which is surpassing 
 ail description among;t these wild tribes, when in presence of strangers, 
 
 Tlie one whom I have painted (plate 74) is a descendant from the old 
 chief; and though not the most beautiful, is yet a fair sample of them, and 
 dressed in a beautiful costume of the mountain-sheep skin, handsomely 
 garnished with porcupine quills and beads. This girl was almost compelled 
 to stand for her picture by her relatives who urged her on, whilst sho 
 modestly decl ni.d, offering as her excuse that " she was not pretty enough, 
 ond that her picture would be laughed at." This was either ignorance oi 
 excessive art on her part ; for she was certainly more than comely, and the* 
 beauty of her name, Seet-se-be-a (the midday sun) is quite enough to make 
 up for a deficiency, if there were any, in the beauty of her face. 
 
 I mentioned that 1 found these people raising abundance of corn or 
 maize : and I have happened to visit them in the season of their festivities, 
 which annually take place when the ears of corn are of the proper size for 
 eating. The green corn is considered a great luxury by all those tribes 
 who cultivate it ; and is ready for eating as soon as the ear is of full size, 
 and the kernels are expanded to their full growth, but are yet soft and 
 pulpy. In this green state of the corn, it is boiled and dealt out in great 
 profusion to the whole tribe, who feast and surfeit upon it whilst it lasts ; 
 rendering thanks to the Great Spirit for the return of this joyful season, 
 which they do by making sacrifices, by dancing, and singing songs oi 
 thanksgiving. This joyful occasion is one valued alike, and conducted in a 
 siniilar manner, by most of the tribes who raise the corn, however remote 
 they may be from each other. It lasts but for a week or ten days ; being 
 limited to the longest term that the corn remains in this tender and 
 palatable state ; during which time all hunting, and all war-excursions, and 
 all other avocations, are positively dispensed with ; and all join in the most 
 excessive indulgence of gluttony and conviviality that can possibly be con- 
 ceived. The fields of corn are generally pretty well stripped during this 
 excess; and the poor improvident Indian thanks the Great Spirit for the 
 indulgence he has had, and is satisfiied to ripen merely the few ears that 
 are necessary for his next year's planting, without reproaching himself for 
 his wanton lavishness, which has laid waste his fine fields, and robbed him of 
 the golden harvest, which might have gladdened his heart, with those of his 
 wife and little children, through the cold and dreariness of winter. 
 
 The most remarkable feature of these joyous occasion is the green corn- 
 
groat dispavity 
 I huve before 
 
 lay to day con- 
 brush ; I liave 
 ive her portrait 
 vcntually ensue 
 ;h is surpassing 
 •f strangers, 
 nt from the old 
 )le of them, and 
 tin, handsomely 
 jlmost compelled 
 on, whilst she 
 )t pretty enough, 
 her ignorance oi 
 comely, and the 
 '. enough to make 
 face. 
 
 ance of corn or 
 f their festivities, 
 he proper size for 
 ly all those tribes 
 ir is of full size, 
 are yet soft and 
 ealt out in great 
 it whilst it lasts ; 
 lis joyful season, 
 singing songs oi 
 id conducted in a 
 , however remote 
 ten days ; beinj;' 
 this tender and 
 ir-excursions, and 
 join in the most 
 possibly be con- 
 lipped during this 
 eat Spirit for the 
 :he few ears that 
 .ching himself for 
 ,nd robbed bim of 
 with those of his 
 winter, 
 s the green corn- 
 
 ..7-fr^ 
 
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 - -' 1! ' 
 
 ^p i 
 
 
WM 
 
189 
 
 dance, which is always given as preparatory to the ftiast, and by most of the 
 tribes in the following manner ; — 
 
 At the usual season, and the time when from outward appearance of the 
 stalks and cars of the corn, it is supposed to be nearly ready for use, several 
 of the old women who are the owners of fields or patches of corn (for such 
 are the proprietors and cultivators of all crops in Indian countries, the men 
 never turning their hands to such degrading occupations) are delegated by 
 the medicine-men to look at the corn fields every morning at sun-rise, and 
 bring into the council-house, where the kettle is ready, several ears of corn, 
 the husks of which the women are not allowed to break open or even to 
 peep through. The women then are from day to day discharged and t.je 
 doctors left to decide, until from repeated examinations they come to the 
 decision that it will do ; when they dispatch runners or criers, announcing to 
 every part of the village or tribe that the Great Spirit has been kind to 
 them, and they must all meet on the next day to return thanks for his good- 
 ness. That all must empty their stomachs, and prepare for the feast that 
 is approaching. 
 
 On the day appointed by the doctors, the villagers are all assembled, and 
 in the midst of the group a kettle is hung over a fire and filled with the 
 green corn, which is well boiled, to be given to the Great Spirit, as a sacri- 
 fice necessary to be made before any one can indulge the cravings of his 
 appetite. Whilst this first kettleful is boiling, four i.~.edicine-men, with a 
 stalk of the corn in one hand and a rattle (she-she-quoi) in the other, witli 
 their bodies painted with white clay, dance around the kettle, chanting a 
 song of thanksgiving to the Great Spirit to whom the offering is to be made 
 (plate 75). At the same time a number of warriors are dancing around in 
 a more extended circle, with stalks of the corn in their hands, and 
 ioining also in the songof thanksgiving, whilst the villagers are all assembled 
 and looking on. During this scene there is an arrangement of wooden 
 bowls laid upon the ground, in which the feast is to be dealt out, each one 
 having in it a spoon made of the buffalo wr mountain-sheep's horn. 
 
 In this wise the dance continues until the doctors decide that the corn is 
 sufficiently boiled ; it then stops for a few moments, and again assumes a 
 different form and a different song, whilst the doctors are placing the ears 
 on a little scaffold of sticks, which they erect immediately over the fire where 
 It is entirely consumed, as they join again in the dance around it. 
 
 The fire is then removed, and with it the ashes, which together are buried 
 in the ground, and new fire is originated on the same spot where the old one 
 was, by friction, which is done by a desperate and painful exertion by three 
 men seated on the ground, facing each other and violently drilling the end 
 of a stick into a hard block of wood by rolling it between the handr, each 
 one catching it in turn from the others without allowing the motion to stop 
 until smoke, and at last a spark of fire is seen and caught in a piece of 
 spunk, when there is great rejoicing in t!ie crowd. With this a fire is km- 
 
p t 
 
 190 
 
 died, and the kettleful of corn again boiled for the feast, at which the chiefs, 
 doctors, and warriors are seated ; and after this an unlimited licence is given 
 to the whole tribe, who surfeit upon it and indulge in all their favourite 
 amusements and excesses, until the fields of corn are exhausted, or its ears 
 have become too hard for their comfortable mastication. 
 
 Such are the general features of the green corn festivity and dance 
 amongst most of the tribes ; and amongst some there are many additional 
 forms and ceremonies gone through, preparatory to the indulgence in the 
 feast. 
 
 Some of the southern tribes concoct a most bitter and nauseating draught, 
 which they call asceola (the black drink), which they drink to excess for 
 several days previous to the feast ; ejecting everything from their stomachs 
 and intestines, enabling them after this excessive and painful purgation, to 
 commence with the green corn upon an empty and keen stomach. 
 
 h ■■ ! p ;■; 
 
 .f '-■'!. 
 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
1 the chiefs, 
 nee is given 
 !ir favourite 
 or its ears 
 
 and dance 
 ^ additional 
 ence in the 
 
 ng draught, 
 ) excess for 
 ;ir stomachs 
 urgation, to 
 1. 
 
; 
 
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 n i^ii 
 
 
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 ;■• is 
 
 iVJ^ 
 
 -J' 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
191 
 
 LETTER~No. 24. 
 
 MINATAREE VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Epistles from such a strange place as this, where I have no desk 
 to write from, or mail to send them by, are hastily scribbled off in my note- 
 book, as I can steal a little time from the gaze of the wild group that is 
 continually about me ; and instead of sending them, keeping them to bring 
 with me when I make my retreat from the country. 
 
 The only place where I can satisfactorily make these entries is in the 
 shade of some sequestered tree, to which I occasionally resort, or more often 
 from my bed (from which I am now writing), enclosed by a sort of curtains 
 made of the skins of elks or buffaloes, completely encompassing me, where 
 I am reclining on a sacking-botton., made of the buifalo's hide; making my 
 entries ard notes of the incidents jf the past ^ay, amidst the roar and un- 
 intelligible uh of savage conviviality that is gomg on under the same roof, 
 and under my own eye, whenever I feel disposed to apply it to a small 
 aperture which brings at once the. whole interiour and all its inmates within 
 my view. 
 
 There are at this time some distinguished guests, besides myself, in the 
 lodge of the Black Moccasin ; two chiefs or leaders of a party of Crows, 
 who arrived here a few days since, on a visit to their ancient friends and 
 relatives. The consequence has been, that feasting and carousing have 
 been the " order of the day" here for some time ; and I have luckily been a 
 welcome participator in tl eir entertainments. A distinguished chief of the 
 Minatarees, with several others in company, has been for some months past 
 on a visit to the Crows '.nd returned, attended by some remarkably fine- 
 looking fellows, all mounted on fine horses. I have said something of 
 these fine specimens of the human race heretofore ; and as I have been 
 fastening more of them to the canvass within the few days past, I must use 
 this occasion to add what follows : — 
 
 I think I have said that no part of the human race could present a more 
 picturesque and thrilling appearance on horseback than a party of Crows 
 rigged out in all their plumes and trappings — galloping about and yelping, 
 in what they call a war-parade, i. e. in a sort of tournament or sham-fight, 
 massing rapidly through the evolutions of battle, and vaunting forth the 
 
iy2 
 
 i; 
 
 It 
 
 wonderful character of their military exploits. This is an amusement, of 
 which they aie excessively fond ; and great preparations are invariably 
 made for these occasional shows. 
 
 No tribe of Indians on the Continent are better able to produce a pleasing 
 and thrilling effect in these scencH, nor any more vain, and consequently 
 better prepared to draw pleasure and satisfaction from them, than the Crows. 
 They may be justly said to be the most beautifully clad of all the Indians in 
 these regions, and bringing from the base of the Rocky Mountains a fine 
 and spirited breed of the wild horses, have been able to create a great son- 
 sution amongst the Minatarees, who have been paying them all attention 
 and all honours for some days past. 
 
 From amongst these showy fellows who have been entertaining us and 
 pleasing themselves with their extraordinary feats of horsemanship, I have 
 selected one of the most conspicuous, and transferred him and his horse, 
 with '•rms and trappings, as faithfully as I could to the canvass, for the 
 information of the world, who will learn vastly more from lines and colours 
 than they could from oral or written delineations. 
 
 I have painted him as he sat for me, balanced on his leaping wild 
 horse (plate 76) with his shield and quiver slung on his back, and his long 
 lauLx'' decorated with the eagle's quills, trailed in his right hand. His shirt 
 and his leggings, and moccasins, were of the mountain-goat skins, beauti- 
 fully dressed; and their seams everywhere fringed with a profusion of 
 scalp-locks taken from the heads of his enemies slain in battle. His long 
 hair, which reached almost to the ground whilst he was standing on his feet, 
 was now lifted in the air, and floating in black waves over the hips of his 
 leaping charger. On his head, and over his shining black locks, he wore i 
 magnificent crest or head-dress, made of the quills of the war-eagle and 
 ermine skins ; and on his horse's head also was another of equal beauty and 
 precisely the same in pattern and material. Added to these ornaments 
 there were yet many others which contributed to his picturesque appearance, 
 and amongst them a beautiful netting of various colours, that completely 
 covered and almost obscured the horse's head and neck, and extended O'er 
 its back and its hips, terminating in a most extravagant and magnificent 
 crupper, embossed and fringed with rows of beautiful shellb and porcupine 
 quills of various colours. 
 
 With all these picturesque ornaments and trappings upon and about him, 
 with a noble figure, and the bold stamp of a wild gentleman on his face, 
 added to the rage and spirit of his wild horse, in time with whose leaps he 
 issued his startling (though smothered) yelps, as he gracefully leaned to and 
 fro, leaving his plumes and his plumage, his long locks and his fringes, to 
 float in the wind, he galloped about; and felt exceeding pleasure in display- 
 ing the extraordinary skill which a lifetime of practice and experiment had 
 furnished him in the beautiful art of riding and managing his horse, as well 
 as in displaying to advantage his weapons and ornaments of dress, by giving 
 
imusement, of 
 ire invariably 
 
 uce a pleasing 
 consequently 
 an the Crows, 
 the Indians in 
 antains a fine 
 J a great scn- 
 i all attention 
 
 lining us and 
 nship, I have 
 ind his horse, 
 uvass, for tho 
 t's and colours 
 
 ', leaping wild 
 
 :, and his long 
 
 nd. His shirt 
 
 , skins, beauti- 
 
 , profusion of 
 
 ;le. His long 
 
 ng on his feet, 
 
 le hips of his 
 
 :ks, he wore i 
 
 var-eagle and 
 
 al beauty and 
 
 ise ornaments 
 
 e appearance, 
 
 at completely 
 
 ixtended 0"'er 
 
 d magnificent 
 
 uid porcupine 
 
 id about him, 
 on his face, 
 lose leaps he 
 eaned to and 
 lis fringes, to 
 re in display- 
 )eriment had 
 lorse, as well 
 iss, by giving 
 
193 
 
 them tlie grace of motion, as they were brandished in the air and floating; 
 the wind. 
 
 I have also secured the portraits of Ee-hc-a-duck-chee-ii (he who tics his 
 hair before, im.ate 7S), !iui\ I*a-ris-ita roo-pa ((lie two Crows, pi.aii, 77); 
 fine and fair specimens of this triljc, in both of which arc exliihited the ex- 
 traordinary instances of tiic natural hair reachinjj to the ^roiuul, pecuiiariliei 
 belonging almost exchisively to this tribe, and of wliich I liavc in a former 
 Letter given some account. In presenting such instances as these, I oH'er 
 them, (and the reader will take them of course) as extraordinary and rare 
 occurrences amongst the tribe, who generally fall short t"*'»eso in this 
 peculiarity, and also in elegance of dress and ornament ; althoii;ih many 
 others from their numbers might be selected of equal extravagance. The 
 Crows nro generally handsome, and comfortably clad ; every man in tho 
 nation oils !iis hair with a profusion of bear's grease, and promotes its 
 growth to the utmost of his ability ; and the greater part of them cultivate 
 it down on to the calf of the leg, whilst a few arc able to make it sweep 
 the ground. 
 
 In a former Letter I gave some account of the form of the head peculiar 
 to this tribe which may well be recorded as a national characteristic, and 
 worthy of further attention, which I shall give it on a future occasion. Tiiis 
 striking peculiarity is quite conspicuous in the two port: .ts of which I have 
 just spoken, exhibiting fairly, as they are both in profile, ti ; se?«t-/a?j«r outline 
 of the face of which I have before spoken, and which strongly characterizes 
 them as distinct from any relationship or resemblance to, the Blackfeet, 
 Shiennies, Knisteneaux, Mandans, or other tribes now existing in these 
 regions. The peculiar character of which I am speaking, like all other na- 
 tional characteristics, is of course met by many exceptions in the tribe, 
 though the greater part of the men are thus strongly marked with a bold 
 and prominent anti-angular nose, with a clear and rounded arch, and a low 
 and receding forehead ; the frontal bone oftentimes appearing to have been 
 compressed by some effort of art, in a certain degree approaching to the 
 horrid distortion thus produced amongst the Flatheads beyond the Rocky 
 Mountains. I learned however from repeated incjuiries, that no such custom 
 is practiced amongst them, but their heads, such as they are, are the results 
 of a natural growth, and therefore may well be offered as the basis of a na- 
 tional or tribal character. 
 
 I recollect to have seen in several publications on the antiquities of Mexico, 
 many rude drawings made by the ancient Mexicans, of which the singular pro- 
 files of these people forcibly remind me, almost bringing me to the conclusion 
 that these people may be the descendants of the race who have bequeathed 
 those curious and inexplicable remains to the world, and whose scattered rem- 
 nants, from dire and unknown necessities of those dark and veiled ages that 
 have gone by, have been jostled and thrown along through the hideous and 
 almost impenetrable labyrinths of the Rocky Mountains to the place of their 
 
 VOL. 1. cc 
 
14 
 
 m 
 
 lU 
 
 1 1.S 
 
 194 
 
 duHtination where they now live. 1 am stoppod, however, from tulvancing 
 Kiir'h A* a theory, and much prcler to leave it to other hands, who may more 
 eiiHJIy f^i't over difficMdties which I shonid \»\ afraid to encounltr in the very 
 outset, from the very important ((ueslions raised in my mind, as* to the cor- 
 reotncM of those rnde and i<rnorant outlines, in truly e»tablishin(; the looks 
 and character of a people. Amongst a people so ij^nornnt und so little ad- 
 vanced in the aits an the ancient .Mexicans wore, from whoce tracings those 
 very numerous drawings are copied, 1 think it would be assuming a great 
 deal too much for satisfactory argument, to claim tliat such records wero 
 to set up Id iho world the looks and character of a people who have sunk 
 into oiilivion, when the heads of horses and other animals, drawn by the 
 some hands, arc so rude and so much out of drawing as scarcely to be dis- 
 tinguished, one from the other. I fei^l as if such rude outlines should be 
 received with great caution and distrust, in establishing the character of a 
 people ; and for a fair illustration of the objection I am raising, I would refer 
 ihe reader to a number of fac simile drawings which i have co|)ied from 
 some of tlie paintings of the Mandans (on the three plates following i'I.atk 
 n5), where must of the figures have the forehead and nose answering exactly 
 to these Mexican outlines, and strikingly resembling the lininy Crows, also, 
 when they have certainly borrowed nothing from either, nor have they any 
 living outlines like them in their own tribe to have copied from. 
 
 Since writi ^ the above I have passed through many vicissitudes, and wit- 
 nessed many curious scenes worthy of relating, some of which I will scribble 
 now, and leave the rest for a more leisure occasion. I have witnessed many 
 of the valued games and amusements of this tribe, and made sketches of 
 them ; and also have painted a number of portraits of distinguished warriors 
 and braves which will be fbund in my collection. 
 
 I have just been exceedingly amused with a formal and grave meeting 
 which was called around me, formed by a number of young men, and even 
 chiefs and doctors of the tribe, who, having heard that I was f/reat medi- 
 cine, and a great chief, took it upon themselves to suppose that I might 
 (or perhaps must) be, a man of influence amongst the " pale faces," and 
 capable of rendering them some relief in a case of very great grievance, 
 under which they represented that they were suffering. Several most pro- 
 found speeches were made to me, setting forth these grievances, somewhat 
 in the following manner : — They represented, that about five or six years 
 ago, an unknown, small animal — not far differing in size from a ground 
 squirrel, but with a long, round tail, shewed himself slily about one of the 
 chief's wigwams, peeping out from under the pots and kettles, and other 
 such things ; which they looked upon as great medicine — and no one dared 
 to kill it; but hundreds came to watch and look at it. On one of these 
 occasions, one of the spectators saw this strange animal catching and de- 
 vouring a small " deer mouse," of which little and very destructive animals 
 their lodges contained many. It was then at once determined that this had 
 
ndvAncing 
 I) may more 
 • ill llio vtiry 
 
 to the cor- 
 t; ilie looks 
 
 80 little lul- 
 aciiigif lliono 
 liiif? ft great 
 recortU wore 
 
 liavo sunk 
 Irawn by tlio 
 ely to be cli.s- 
 19 should lie 
 liaracter of a 
 
 1 would relcr 
 c'oitit'd tVoin 
 
 owing I'l.ATR 
 
 ering exactly 
 
 Crows, also, 
 
 ave they any 
 
 ult'S, and wit- 
 
 I will scribble 
 
 Itncsscd many 
 
 sketches of 
 
 icd warriors 
 
 rave meeting 
 len, and even 
 f/rcat viedi- 
 that 1 might 
 faces," and 
 at grievance, 
 ral most pro- 
 es, somewhat 
 or six years 
 m a ground 
 it one of the 
 es, and other 
 no one dared 
 one of these 
 ling and de- 
 ctive animals 
 that this had 
 
 i 
 
195 
 
 been an act of the Great Spirit, as a ni'jans of putting a stop to the spolia 
 lions committed by these little sappers, who were cutting their clothing, and 
 other manufactures to pieces iu a lamentable manner. Councils had been 
 called and solemn decrees issued for the countenance and protection of this 
 welcome visitor and its progeny, which were soon ascertained to be rapidly 
 increasing, and calculated soon to rid them of these thousan .s of little depre- 
 dators. It was soon, however, learned from one of the Fur Traders, that 
 this distinguished object of their superstition (which my man Ba'tiste fami- 
 liarly calls " Monsr. Ratapon") had, a short time before, landed himselC from 
 one of their keel boats, which had ascended the Missouri river for the distance 
 of 1800 miles; and had taken up its residence, without introduction or in- 
 vitation, in one of their earth-covered wigwams. 
 
 This information, for a while, curtailed the extraordinary respect they 
 had for some time been paying to it ; but its continual war upon these little 
 mice, which it was using for its food, in the absence of all other nutriment, 
 continued to command their respect, in spite of the manner in which it had 
 been introduced ; being unwilling to believe that it had come from that 
 source, even, without the agency ia some way of the Great Spirit. 
 
 Having been thus introduced and nurtured, and their numbers having been 
 so wonderfully increased in the few last years, that every wigwam was in- 
 fested with them, — that their caches, where they bury their coin and other 
 provisions, were robbed and sacked ; and the very pavements under their 
 wigwams were so vaulted and sapped, that they were actually falling to the 
 ground; they were now looked upon as a most disastrous nuisance, and a 
 public calamity, to which it was the object of this meeting to call my atten- 
 tion, evidently in hopes that I might be able to designate some successful 
 mode of relieving them from this real misfortune. I got rid of them at last, 
 by assuring them of my deep regret for their situation, which was, to be 
 sure, a very unpleasant one; and told tliem, that there was really a great 
 deal of medicine in the thing, and that I should therefore be quite unwilling 
 to have anything to do with it. Ba'tiste and Bogard, who are yet my daily 
 and almost hourly companions, took to themselves a great deal of fun and 
 amusement at the end of this interview, by suggesting many remedies for 
 the evil, and enjoying many hearty laughs ; after which, Ba'tiste, Bogard 
 and I, took our hats ; and 1 took my sketch-book in hand, and we started 
 on a visit to the upper town of the Minatarees, which is half a mile or more 
 distant, and on the other bank of the Knife River, which we crossed iu the 
 following manner: — ^The old chief, having learned that we were to cross the 
 river, gave direction to one of the women of his numerous household, who 
 took upon her head a skin-canoe (more familiarly called in this country, a 
 buil-boat), made in the form of a large tub, of a buffalo's skin, stretched on 
 a frame of willow boughs, which she carried to the water's edge ; and 
 placing it in the water, made signs for us three to get into it. When we 
 were in, and seated flat on its bottom, with scarce room in any way to ad- 
 
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 196 
 
 just our legs and our feet (as we sat necessarily facing each other), she step- 
 ped before the boat, and pulling it along, waded towards the deeper water, 
 with her back towards us, carefully with the other hand attending to her 
 dress, which seemec. to be but a light slip, and floating upon the surface 
 until the water was above her waist, when it was instantly turned off, over 
 lier head, and thrown ashore ; and she boldly plunged forward, swimming 
 and drawing the boat with one hand, which she did with apparent ease. 
 In this manner we were conveyed to the middle of the stream, where we 
 were soon surrounded by a dozen or more beautiful girls, from twelve to 
 fifteen and eighteen years of age, who were at that time bathing on the op- 
 posite shore. 
 
 They all swam in a bold and graceful manner, and as confidently as so 
 many otters or beavers ; and gathering around us, with their long black 
 hair floating about on the water, whilst their faces were glowing with jokes 
 and fun, which they were cracking about us, and which we could not 
 understand. 
 
 In the midst of this delightful little aquatic group, we three sat in our 
 little skin-bound tub (like the " three wise men of Gotham, who went to 
 sea in a bowl," &c.), floating along down the current, losing sight, and all 
 thoughts, of the shore, which was equi-distant from us on either side ; whilst 
 we were amusing ourselves with the playfulness of these dear little creatures 
 who were floating about under the clear blue water, catching their hands 
 on to the sides of our boat ; occasionally raising one-half of their bodies out 
 of the water, and sinking again, like so many mermaids. 
 
 In the midst of this bewildering and tantalizing entertainment, in which 
 poor Ba'tiste and Bogard, as well as myself, were all taking infinite pleasure, 
 and which we supposed was all intended for our especial amusement ; we 
 found ourselves suddenly in the delightful dilemma of floating down the cur- 
 rent in the middle of the river ; and of being turned round and round to 
 the excessive amusement of the villagers, who were laughing at us from the 
 shore, as well as these little tyros, whose delicate hands were besetting our 
 tub on all sides ; and for an escape from whom, or for fending off", we 
 had neither an oar, or anything else, that we could wield in self-defence, or 
 for self-preservation In this awkward predicament, our feelings of exces- 
 sive admiration were immediately changed, to those of exceeding vexation, 
 as we now learned that they had peremptorily discharged from her occupa- 
 tion our tair conductress, who had undertaken to ferry us safely across the 
 river ; and had also very ingeniously laid their plans, of which we had been 
 ignorant until the present moment, to extort from us in this way, some little 
 evidences of our liberality, which, in fact, it was impossible to refuse them, 
 after so liberal and bewitching an exhibition on their part, as well as from 
 the imperative obligation which the awkwardness of our situation had laid 
 us under. I had some awls in my pockets, which I presented to them, and 
 also a few strings of beautiful beads, which I placed over their deltciUe 
 
197 
 
 ler), she step- 
 deeper water, 
 ending to her 
 in the surface 
 rned off, over 
 rd, swimming 
 pparent ease, 
 lam, where we 
 rom twelve to 
 ing on the op- 
 
 ifidently as so 
 ;ir long black 
 ing with jokes 
 we could not 
 
 ce sat in our 
 1, who went to 
 ; sight, and all 
 er side ; whilst 
 little creatures 
 ng their hands 
 beir bodies out 
 
 nent, in which 
 finite pleasure, 
 jnusement ; we 
 down the cur- 
 and round to 
 lat us from the 
 besetting our 
 snding off, we 
 |elt-defence, or 
 ngs of exces- 
 |ding vexation, 
 her occupa- 
 'ely across the 
 |i we had been 
 y, some little 
 p refuse them, 
 Is well as from 
 ition had laid 
 to them, and 
 their delicate 
 
 necks as they raised them out of the water by the side of our boat ; after 
 which they all joined in conducting our craft to the shore, by swimming by 
 the sides of, and behind it, pushing it along in the direction where they 
 designed to land it, until the water became so shallow, tliat their feet were 
 upon the bottom, when they waded along with great coyness, dragging us 
 towards the shore, as long as their bodies, in a crouching position, could 
 possibly be half concealed under the water, when they gave our boat the 
 last push for the shore, and raising a loud and exulting laugh, plunged back 
 again into the river ; leaving us the only alternative of sitting still where we 
 were, or of stepping out into the water at half leg deep, and of wading to 
 the shore, which we at once did, and soon escaped from the view of our 
 little tormentors, and the numerous lookers-on, on our way to the upper 
 village, which I have before mentioned. 
 
 Here I w<.\s very politely treated by the Yellow Moccasin, quite an old 
 man, and who seemed to be chief of this band or family, constituting t!ieii 
 little community of thirty or forty lodges, averaging, perhaps, twenty persons 
 to each. I was feasted in this man's lodge — and afterwards invited to ac- 
 company him and several others to a beautiful prairie, a mile or so above 
 the village, where the young men and young women of this town, and many 
 from the village below, had assembled for their amusements ; the chief of 
 whichseemedto be that of racing their horses. In tlie midst of these scenes, 
 after I had beon for some time a looker-on, and had felt some considerable 
 degree of sympathy for a fine-looking young fellow, whose horse had been 
 twice beaten on the course, and whose losses had been considerable ; for 
 which, his sister, a very modest and pretty girl, was most piteously howling 
 and crying. I selected and brought forward an ordinary-looking pony, that 
 was evidently too fat and too sleek to run against his fine-limbed little 
 horse that had disappointed his high hopes ; and I began to comment ex- 
 travagantly upon its muscle, &c., when I discovered him evidently cheering 
 up with the hope of getting me and my jjony on to the turf with him ; for 
 which he soon made me a proposition ; and I, liavmg lauded the limbs of 
 my little nag too much to " back out," agreed to run a short race with him 
 of half a mile, for three yards of scarlet cloth, a knife, and half a dozen 
 strings of beads, which I was willing to stake against a handsome pair of 
 leggings, which he was wearing at the time. The greul'-st imaginable ex- 
 citement was now raised amongst the crowd by this arrargement : to see a 
 white man preparing to run with an Indian jockey, and t lat with a scrub of 
 a pony, in whose powers of running no Indian had the least confidence. 
 Yet; there was no one in the crowd, who dared to take up the several other 
 little bets I was willing to tender (merely for their amusement, and for their 
 final exultation) ; owing, undoubtedly, to the bold and confident manner in 
 which I had ventured on the merits of this little horse, which the tribe had 
 all overlooked ; and needs must have some medicine about it. 
 
 .So far was this panic carried, that even my champion was ready to with- 
 
^ri/ 'I 
 
 !.;!' 
 
 V. 
 
 198 
 
 draw ; but liis friends encouraged him at length, and we galloped our lioi'scs 
 off to the other end of the course, where we were to start ; and wliere we 
 were accompanied by a number of horsemen, .vlio were to witness the " set 
 off'." Some considerable delay here took place, from a condition, which was 
 tlien named to me, and which I had not observed before, that in all the 
 races of this day, every rider was to riii. entirely denuded, and ride a naked 
 horse ! »».,re 1 was completely balked, and having no one by me to inter- 
 pret a word, I was quite at a loss to decide what was best to do. I found 
 however, that remonstrance was of little avail ; and as I had volunteered 
 in this thing to gratify and flatter them, I thought it best not positively to 
 displease them in this ; so I laid off my clothes, and straddled the naked 
 back of my round and glossy little pony, by the side of my competitor, who 
 was also mounted and stripped to the skin, and panting with a restless 
 anxiety for the start. 
 
 Reader i did you ever imagine that in the middle of a man's life there 
 could be a thought or a feeling so neiv to him, as to throw him instantly 
 back to infancy ; with a new world and a new genius before him — started 
 afresh, to navigate and breathe the elements of naked and untasted liberty, 
 which clothe him in their cool and silken robes that float about him ; and 
 wafting their life-inspiring folds to his inmost lungs ? If you never have 
 been inspired with such a feeling, and have been in the habit of believing 
 Uiat you have thougi t of, and imagined a little of every thing, try for a 
 moment, to disrobe your mind and your body, and he-p me through feelings 
 to whicli I cannot give utterance. Imagine yourselves as I was, with my 
 trembling little horse underneath me, and the cool atmosphere that was 
 floating about, and ready, more closely and familiarly to embrace me, as it 
 did, at tlie next moment, when we " were off"," and struggling for the goal 
 and the prize. 
 
 Though my little Pegasus seemed to dart vSrough the clouds, and I to 
 be wafted on the wings of Mercury, yet my red ri.l',ersary was leaving me 
 too far behind for further competition ; and I wheeled to the left, making a 
 circuit on the prairie, and came in at the starting point, much to the satis- 
 faction and exultation of the jockeys ; but greatly to the murmuring d'sap- 
 pouitment of the women and children, who had assembled in a dense 
 throng to witness the "coming out" of the " white medicine-man." I 
 clothed myself instantly, and came back, acknowledging my defeat, and 
 the superior skill of my competitor, as well as the wonderful muscle of his 
 little charger, which pleased him much ; and his sisters' lamentat'ons were 
 soon turned to joy , h\ the receipt of a beautiful scarlet robe, and a profusion of 
 vari-colourcd beads, which were speedily paraded on her copper-coloured neck. 
 
 After I had seen enough of these amusements, I succeeded with some dif- 
 ficulty, in pulling Ba'liste and Bogard from amongst the groups of women 
 and girls, where they seemed to be successfully ingratiating themselves ; and 
 we trudged back to he little village of earth-covered lodges, which were 
 
 I . 
 
199 
 
 icd our hoi'ses 
 and where we 
 ncss the " set 
 on, which wns 
 hat in all the 
 ride a naked 
 ^ me to inter- 
 do. I found 
 id volunteered 
 it positively to 
 led the naked 
 )mpetitor, who 
 vitli a restless 
 
 lans life there 
 ' him instantly 
 3 him — started 
 utasted liberty, 
 30ut him ; and 
 you never have 
 it of believing 
 thing, try for a 
 hrough feelings 
 was, with my 
 )here that was 
 brace me, as it 
 ig for the goal 
 
 ouds, and I to 
 ■as leaving me 
 eft, making a 
 to the satis- 
 inuring disap- 
 in a dense 
 :uie-nian." I 
 ly defeat, and 
 muscle of his 
 ntat'ons were 
 a profusion of 
 coloured neck, 
 with some dif- 
 ups of women 
 imselvcs ; and 
 ;s, which were 
 
 hemmed in, and almost obscured from the eye, by the fields of corn and 
 luxuriant giowth of wild sun-flowers, and other vegetable productions of 
 the soil, whose spontaneous growth had reared their heads in such profusion, 
 as to appear all bu' like a dense and formidable forest. 
 
 \\g loitered about this little village awhile, looking into most of its; lodges, 
 and tracing its winding avenues, after which we recrossed the river and 
 wended our way back again to head-quarters, from whence we started in the 
 morning, and where I am now writing. This day's ramble shewed to us all 
 the inhabitants of this little tribe, except a portion of their warriors who are 
 out on a war excursion against the Riccarees ; and I have been exceedingly 
 pleased with their general behaviour an'l looks, as well as with their nume- 
 rous games and amusements, in many of which I have given them great 
 pleasure by taking a part. 
 
 The Minatarees, as I have before said, are a bold, daring, and wai'ike 
 tribe ; quite different in these respects from their neighbours the Mandans, 
 carrying war continually in their enemies' country, thereby exposing their 
 lives and diminishing the number of tueir warriors to that degree tiiat I find 
 two or three women to a man, through the tribe. They are bold and fearless 
 in the chase also, and in their eager pursuits of the bison, or buffaloes, their 
 feats are such as to excite the astonishment and admiration of all who 
 behold them. Of these scenes I have witnessed many since I came into 
 this country, and amongst them all, nothing have I seen to compare with 
 one to which I was an eye-witness a few mornings since, and well worthy of 
 being described. 
 
 The Minatarees, as well as the Mandans, had suffered for some months 
 past for want of meat, and had indulged in the most alarming fears, that the 
 herds of buff'aloes were emigrating so far off" from them, that there was great 
 danger of their actual starvation, when it was suddenly announced through 
 the village one morning at an early liour, that a herd of buffaloes was ir. 
 sight, when an hundred or more young men mounted their horses with wea- 
 pons in hand and steered their course to the prairies. The chief informed 
 mc that one of his horses was in readiness for me at the door of his wigwam, 
 and that I had better go and see tha curious affair. I accepted his polite 
 offer, and mounting the steed, galloped off" with the hunters to the prairies, 
 where we soon descried at a distance, a fine herd of buff'aloes grazing, when 
 a halt and a council were ordered, and the mode of attack was agreed upon. 
 1 had armed myself with my pencil and my sketch-book only, and conse- 
 quently took my position generally in the rear, where I could see and appre- 
 ciate every manoeuvre. 
 
 The plan ot attack, which in this country is familiarly called a " surround," 
 was explicitly agreed upon, and the hunters who were all mounted on their 
 " buffalo horses" and armed with bows and arrows or long lances, divided 
 into two columns, taking opposite directions, and drew themselves gradually 
 around the herd at a mile or more distance from them ; thus forming a 
 
Wi 
 
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 i\ 
 
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 n 
 
 
 \ 
 
 200 
 
 if 1 
 
 
 circle of horsemen at equal distances apart, who gradually closed in upon 
 them with a moderate p?f:c, at a signal given. The unsuspecting herd at 
 length " got the wind " of the approaching enemy and fled in a mass 
 in the greatest confusion. To the point where they were aiming to cross 
 the line, the horsemen were seen at full speed, gathering am. forming in a 
 column, brandishing their weapons and yelling in the most frightful manner, 
 by which means they turned the black and rushing mass which moved off in 
 an opposite direction where they were again met and foiled in a similar 
 manner, and wheeled back in utter confusion ; by which time the horsemen 
 had closed in from all directions, forming a continuous line around them, 
 whilst the poor affrighted animals were eddying about in a crowded and 
 confused mass, hooking and climbing upon each other ; when the work of 
 death commenced. I had rode up in the rear a;id occupied an elevated 
 position at a few rods distance, from which 1 could (like the general of a 
 battle field) survey from my horse's back, the nature and the progress of the 
 grand melee ; but (unlike him) without the power of issuing a command or 
 in any way directing its issue. 
 
 In this grand turmoil (plate 79), a cloud of dust was soon raised, which in 
 parts obscured the throng where the hunters were galloping their horses around 
 and driving the whizzing arrows or their long lances to the hearts of these noble 
 animals ; which in many instances, becoming infuriated with deadly wounds 
 in their sides, erected their shaggy manes over their blood-shot eyes and 
 furiously plunged forwards at the sides of their assailants' horses, sometimes 
 goring them to death at a lunge, and putting their dismounted riders to flight 
 for their lives ; sometimes their dense crowd was opened, and the blinded 
 liorsemen, too intent on their prey amidst the cloud of dust, were hemmed 
 and wedged in amidst the crowding beasts, over whose backs they were 
 obliged to leap for security, leaving their horses to the fate that might await 
 them in the results of this wild and desperate war. Many were the bulls that 
 turned upon their assailants and met them w'^h desperate resistance ; and 
 many were the warriors who were dismounted, and saved themselves by the 
 superior muscles of their legs ; some who were closely pursued by the bulls, 
 wheeled suddenly around and snatching the part of a buffalo robe from 
 around their waists, threw it over the horns and the eyes of the infuriated 
 beast, and darting by its side drove the arrow or the lance to its heart. 
 Others suddenly dashed off upon the prairies by the side of the affrighted 
 animals which had escaped from the throng, and closely escorting them for 
 a few rods, brought down their hearts blood in streams, and (heir huge car- 
 casses upon the green and enamelled turf. 
 
 In this way this grand hunt soon resolved itself into a desperate battle ; 
 and in the space of fifteen minutes, resulted in the total destruction of the 
 whole herd, which in all their strength and fury were doomed, like every 
 beast and living thing else, to fall before the destroying hands of mighty 
 nmn. 
 
closed ill upon 
 pecting herd at 
 fled in a mass 
 liming to cross 
 n(". forming in a 
 ightful manner, 
 ch moved off in 
 led in a similar 
 le the horsemen 
 ! around them, 
 I a crowded and 
 hen the work of 
 pied an elevated 
 he general of a 
 ; progress of the 
 f a command or 
 
 raised, which in 
 ir horses around 
 ts of these noble 
 deadly wounds 
 l-shot eyes and 
 irses, sometimes 
 
 riders to flight 
 ind the blinded 
 , were hemmed 
 acks they were 
 lat might await 
 e the bulls that 
 esistance ; and 
 
 mselves by the 
 d by the bulls, 
 ffalo robe from 
 
 the infuriated 
 ce to its heart. 
 
 the aff'righted 
 jrting them for 
 (heir huge car- 
 
 sperate battle ; 
 truction of the 
 lied, like every 
 nds of mighty 
 
 } 
 
 'if 
 
 if 
 
 I 
 
 fi 
 
 I 
 
m 
 
 I had sat in trembliiip^ silence upon my horse, and witnessed this extra- 
 ordinary scene, wliicli allowed not one of tliese animals to escape out of my 
 sight. Many jjlunged ofF upon the prairie for a distance, but were over- 
 taken and killed ; and although I could not distinctly estimate the number 
 that were slain, yet I am sure that some hundreds of these noble animals 
 fell in this grand mfilee. 
 
 The scene after the battle was over was novel and curious in the extreme; 
 the hunters were moving about amongst the dead and dying animals, 
 leading their horses by thc'r halters, and claiming their victims by their 
 private marks upon their arrov/s, which they were drawing from the wounds 
 in the animals' sides. 
 
 Amongst the poor affrighted creatures that had occasionally dashed 
 through the ranks of their enemy, and sought safety in flight upon the 
 prairie (and in some instances, had undoubtedly gained it), I saw them 
 stand awhile, looking back, when they turned, and, as if bent on their own 
 destruction, retraced their steps, and mingled themselves and their deaths 
 with those of the dying throng. Others had fled to a distance on the prairies, 
 and for want of company, of friends or of foes, had stood and gazed on till 
 the battle-scene was over ; seemingly taking pains to stay, and hold 
 their lives in readiness for their destroyers, until the general destruction was 
 over, when they fell easy victims to their weapons — making the slaughter 
 complete. 
 
 After this scene, and after arrows had been claimed and recovered, a 
 general council was held, when all hands were seated on the ground, and a 
 few pipes smoked ; after which, all mounted their horses and rode back to 
 the village. 
 
 A deputation of several of the warriors was sent to the chief, who ex- 
 plained to him what had been their success ; and the same intelligence was 
 soon communicated by little squads to every family in the village ; and pre- 
 parations were at once made for securing the meat. For this purpose, some 
 hundreds of women and children, to whose lots fall all the drudgeries of 
 Indian life, started out upon the trail, which led them to the battle-field, 
 where they spent the day in skinning the animals, and cutting up the 
 meat, which was mostly brought into the villages on their backs, as they 
 tugged and sweated under their enormous and cruel loads. 
 
 I rode out to see this curious scene ; and I regret exceedingly that I 
 kept no memorandum of it in my sketch-book. Amidst tl.e throng of women 
 and children, that had been assembled, and all of whom seemed busily at 
 work, were many superannuated and disabled nags, which they had brought 
 out to assist in carrying in the meat ; and at least, one thousand semi-loup 
 dogs, and whelps, whose keen appetites and sagacity had brought them out, 
 to claim their shares of this abund .; , and sumptuous supply. 
 
 I staid and inspected this curious group for an hour or more, during 
 which time, I was almost continually amused by the clamorous contentions 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 D D 
 
202 
 
 tlint arose, and tycnerally ended, in desperate combats; both amongst tlie 
 dogs and women, who seemed alike tenacious of their local and recently 
 arciuircd rigiits; and disposed to settle tlieir claims by " toolii and nail"— 
 by niiiniial and brute force. 
 
 When I had seen enough of this I rode to the top of a beautiful prairie 
 bluff, a mile or two from tlio scene, where I was exceedingly amused by 
 overlooking the route that laid between this and the village, which was over 
 the undulating green fields for several miles, that laid beneath me ; over 
 w.ich there seemed a continual string of women, dogs and horses, for the 
 rest of the day, r>assing and repassing as they were busily bearing home their 
 heavy burthens to their village, and in their miniature appearance, which 
 the distance gave them, not unlike to u l)iisy community of ants as ihey are 
 sometimes seen, ,,acking and transporting the treasures of a cupboard, or 
 the aweets of a sugar bowl. 
 
 |i?i' 
 
 V 
 
 tlli-i 
 
'J():3 
 
 LETTER— No. 25. 
 
 LITTLE MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 In speaking of the Mandans, in a former Letter, I mentionei that tliey 
 were living in two villages, which are about two miles apart. Of their prin- 
 cipal village I have given a minute account, which precludes the necessity of 
 my saying much of their smaller town, to which I descended a few days 
 since, from the Minatarees; and where 1 find their modes and customs, 
 precisely the same as I have heretofore described. Thisvillage contains sixty or 
 eighty lodges, built in the same manner as those which I have already men 
 tioned, and I have just learned tiiat they have been keeping the annual 
 ceremony here, precisely in the same manner as that which I witnessed in 
 the lower or larger town, and have explained. 
 
 I have beon treated with the same hospitality here that was extended to me 
 in the other illage ; and have painted the portraits of several distinguished 
 persons, which has astonished and pleased them very much. The operation 
 of my brush always gains me many enthusiastic friends wherever I go amongst 
 these wild folks ; and in this village I have been unusually honoured and 
 even afflicted, by the friendly importunities of one of these reverencing para- 
 sites, who (amongst various other offices of hospitality and kindness which he 
 has been bent upon extending to me), has insisted on, and for several nights 
 been indulged in, the honour as he would term it, of offering his body for my 
 pillow, which / have not had the heart to reject, and of course lie has not 
 lacked the vanity to boast of, as an act of signal kindness and hospitality on 
 his part, towards a great and a distinguished stranger ! 
 
 I have been for several days suffering somewhat with an influenza, which 
 has induced me to lea- my bed, on the side of the lodge, and sleep on tlie 
 floor, wrapped in a buffalo robe, with my feet to the fire in the centre of ihe 
 room, to which place the genuine politeness of my constant and watchful 
 friend has as regularly drawn him, where his irresistible importunities have 
 brought me, night after night, to the only alternative of using his bedaubed 
 and bear-greased body for a pillow. 
 
 Being unwilling to deny the poor fellow the satisfaction he seemed to be 
 drawing from this singular freak, I took some pains to inquire into his 
 character ; and learned that he was a Riccaree brave, by tlie name of Pali- 
 too-ca-ra (he who strikes), who is here with several others of his tribe, on a 
 friendly visit (though in a hostile village), and living as they arc, unprotected, 
 
1' ■ n 
 
 204 
 
 1 , 1 1 
 
 except by the mercy of their enemies. I think it prolmblc, therefore, that hf 
 it ingeniously cndeavourin<r tluis to inj^ratiatc himself in my afiecticns, and 
 consequently to insure myguurdianslilp (ind influence for his protcctir'n. De 
 this as it may, ho is rcndcriu)^ me many kind services, and I have in return 
 traced him on my canvass for immortality (plate 83). 
 
 By the side of him (i't.A te 84), I have painted a beautiful little ^\i\ of the 
 same tribe, whose name is Pshan-shuw (the sweet-scented grass), giving a 
 very pretty specimen of the dress and fashion of the women in this tribe. 
 The inner garment, which is litre a slip or u frock, is entire in one piece, and 
 beautifully ornamented with embroidery and beads, with a row of elks' 
 teeth passing ocrosa the breast, and a robe of the young buiialo's skin, 
 tastefully and elaborately embroidered, gracefully tiirown over her shoulders, 
 and hanging down to the ground behind her. 
 
 Plate 82 gives a portrait of one of the chiefs of this tribe by the name of 
 Stan-au-pat (the bloody hand), and (i-late 81) of Kah-beck-a (the twin), 
 u good-looking matron, who was painted a few weeks since in the prin- 
 cipal Mandan village. 
 
 The dresses in both of those portraits are very beautiful, and I have pro- 
 cured them, as well as the one before spoken of, for my collection. 
 
 Plate 80, gives a view of the Riccaree village, which is beautiluliy 
 situated on the west bank of the river, 200 miles below the Mandniis ; and 
 built very much in the same manner; being constituted of 150 earth- 
 covered lodges, which are in part surrounded by an imperfect and open 
 barrier of piquets set fiimiy in the ground, and of ten or twelve feet in 
 height. 
 
 This village is built upon an open prairie, and the gracefully undulating 
 hills that rise in distance behind it are everywhere covered with a verdant 
 green turf, without a tree or a bush anywhere to be seen. This view waa 
 taken from the deck of the steamer \ • I was on my way up the river ; 
 and probably it was well that I too": it then, for so hostile and deadly are 
 the feelings of these people towards the pale faces, at this time, that it may 
 be deemed most prudent for me to pass them on my way down the river, 
 without stopping to make them a visit. They certainly are harbouring the 
 most resentful feelings at this time towards the Traders, and others passing 
 on the river ; and no doubt, that there is great danger of the lives of any 
 white men, who unluckily fall into their hands. They have recently sworu 
 death and destruction to every white man, who comes in their way ; and 
 there is no doubt, that they are ready to execute their threats. 
 
 When Lewis and Clarke first visited these people thirty years since, it will 
 be found by a reference to their history, that the Riccarees received and 
 tnated them with great kindness and hospitality; but owing to the system 
 of trade, and the manner in which it has been conducted in this country, 
 tliey have been inflicted with real or imaginary abuses, of which they ate 
 hemselves, and the Fur Traders, the best judges ; and for which they are 
 
prcfore, that he 
 nffecticns, and 
 
 irolection. Be 
 hnvc in return 
 
 little Rirl of the 
 :ra8s), K'*''"*? i* 
 :n in this trihc. 
 
 one piece, and 
 a row of elks' 
 
 butt'iilo's skin, 
 r her shouldeis, 
 
 by the name of 
 :k-a (the twin), 
 ;e in the prin- 
 
 nd I have pro- 
 ction. 
 
 I is beadtiriiily 
 
 Mandans ; and 
 
 of 150 earth- 
 
 rfect and open 
 
 twelve feet in 
 
 uUy undulating 
 with a verdant 
 
 This view was 
 
 up the river ; 
 and deadly are 
 me, that it may 
 down the river, 
 harbouring the 
 
 others passing 
 16 lives of any 
 
 recently sworu 
 ;heir way ; and 
 
 irs since, it will 
 s received and 
 g to the system 
 n this country, 
 which they are 
 which tbey are 
 
 4 
 
 ' .^/^ii. ■."mil 
 
 ^^ 
 
 \.x 
 
 f'. 
 
 mm 
 
 :^Sf' W ■ 
 
 
 .1 
 
 '"^- i^V 
 
 'H 
 
 ' w--^! 
 
 -— "» i»r apB IS ^ 
 
 00 
 
00 
 
 
 
 A 
 
 J',_./ 
 
 
 

 i 
 
■205 
 
 now harbouring the most inveterate feelings towards the whole civilized 
 race. 
 
 The Riccarees are unquestionably a part of the tribe of Pawnees, living 
 on the Platte River, some hundreds of miles below this, inasmuch as their 
 language is nearly or quite the same ; and their personal appearance and 
 customs as similar as could be reasonably expected amongst a people so long 
 since separated from their parent tribe, and continually subjected to inno- 
 vations from the neighbouring tribes around them; amongst whom, in their 
 erratic wanderings in search of a location, they have been jostled about in 
 the character, alternately, of friends and of foes. 
 
 I shall resume my v . yage down the river in a few days in my canoe ; and 
 I may, perhaps, stop and pay these people a visit, and consequently, be 
 able to say more of them ; or, I may be hauled in, to the shore, and my boat 
 plundered, and my " scalp danced," as they have dealt quite recently with 
 the last trader, who has dared for several years past, to continue his resi- 
 dence with them, after they had laid fatal hands on each one of his com- 
 rades before him, and divided and shared their goods. 
 
 Of the Mandans, who are about me in this little village, I need say 
 nothing, e. sept that they are in every respect, the same as those I have de- 
 scribed in the lower village — and in fact, 1 believe this little town is rather a 
 summer residence for a few of the noted families, than anything else; as I 
 am told that none of their wigwams are tenanted through the winter. I 
 shall leave them in the morning, and take up my residence a few days 
 longer with my hospitable friends Mr. Kipp, Mah-to-toh-pa, &c. in tiie 
 large village ; and then with my canvass and easel, and paint-pots in my 
 canoe ; with Ba'tiste and Bogard to paddle, and my own oar to steer, wei>d 
 my way again on the mighty Missouri towards my native land, bidding 
 everlasting farewell to the kind and hospitable Mandans. 
 
 In taking this final leave of them, which will be done with some decided 
 feelings of regret, and in receding from their country, I shall look back and 
 reflect upon them and their curious and peculiar modes with no small degree 
 of pleasure, as well as surprise ; inasmuch as their hospitality and friendly 
 treatment have fully corroborated my fixed belief that the North American 
 Indian in his primitive state is a high-minded, hospitable and honourable 
 being — and their singular and peculiar customs have raised an irresistible 
 belief in my mind that they have had a diiFerent origin, or are of a diflerent 
 compound of character from any other tribe that I have yet seen, or that can 
 be probably seen in North America. 
 
 In coming to such a conclusion as this, the mina is at once filled with a 
 flood of enquiries as to the source from which they have sprung, and eagerly 
 seeking for the evidence which is to lead it to the most probable and correct 
 conclusion. Amongst these evidences of which there are many, and forcible 
 ones to be met with amongst these people, and many of which 1 liave named 
 in my former epistles, the most striking ones are those which go, I think, de- 
 
206 
 
 m 
 
 cldedly to suggest the existence of looks and of customs amongst them, bear- 
 ing incontestible proofs of an amalgam of civilized and savage ; and that in 
 the absence of all proof of any recent proximity of a civilized stock that could 
 in any way have been engrafted upon them. 
 
 These facts then, with tl e host of their peculiarities which stare a travellei 
 in the face, lead the mind back in seai c'.i of some more remote and rationa 
 Chuse for such striking singularities { and in this dilemma, I have been 
 almost disposed (not to advance it as a theory, but) to enquire whether here 
 may not be found, yet existing, the remains of the Welsh colony — the fol- 
 lowers of Madoc ; who history tells ui, if I recollect right, started with ten 
 ships, to colonize a count. y which he had discovered in the Western Ocean ; 
 whose expedition I think has been pretty clearly traced to the mouth of the 
 Mississippi, or the coast of Florida, and whose fate further than this seems 
 sealed in unsearchable mystery. 
 
 I am travelling in this country as 1 have before said, not to advance or to 
 prove theories, but to see all that I am able to see, and to tell it in the sim- 
 plest and most intelligible manner I can to the world, for their own conclu- 
 sions, or for theories I may feel disposed to advance, and be better able to 
 defend after I get out of this singular country ; where all the powers of ones 
 faculties are required, and much better employed I consider, in helping him 
 along and in gathering materials, than in stopping to draw too nice and 
 delicate conclusions by the way. 
 
 If my indefinite recollections of the fate of that colony, however, as re- 
 corded in history be correct, I see no harm in suggesting the inquiry, whether 
 they did not sail up the Mississippi river in their ten ships, or such number 
 of them as might have arrived safe in its mouth ; and having advanced up the 
 Ohio from its junction, (as they naturally would, it being the widest and 
 most gentle current) to a rich and fertile country, planted themselves as 
 agriculturalists on its rich banks, where they lived and flourished, and in- 
 creased in numbers, until they were attacked, and at last besieged by the 
 numerous hordes of savages who were jealous of their growing condition ; 
 and as a protection against their assaults, built those numerous civilized 
 fortiPications, the ruins of which are now to be seen on the Ohio and the 
 Muskingum, in which they were at last all destroyed, except some few fami- 
 lies who hac' intermarried with the Indians, and whose offspring, being half- 
 breeds, were ii^ such a manner allied to them that their lives were spared ; 
 and forming themselves into a small and separate community, took up their 
 residence on the banks of the Missouri ; Oi^ ivhich, for the want of a perma- 
 nent location, being on the lands of their more powerful enemies, were 
 obliged repeatedly to remove ; and continuing their coarse up the river, 
 have in time migrated to the place where they are now living, and con- 
 sequently found with the numerous and almost unaccountable peculiarities 
 of which 1 have before spoken, so inconsonant with the general character 
 of the North American Indians; with complexions of every shade; with hair 
 
iver, as re- 
 
 207 
 
 of all the colours in civilized society, and many with hazel, with grey, and 
 with blue eyes. 
 
 The above is a suggestion of a moment ; and I wish the reader to bear it in 
 mind, that if I ever advance such as a theory, it will be after I have col- 
 lected other proofs, which I shall take great pains to do ; after I have taken 
 a vocabulary of their language, and also in my transit down the river in my 
 canoe, I may be able from my own examinations of the ground, to ascertain 
 whether the shores of the Missouri bear evidences of their former locations ; 
 or whether amongst the tribes who inhabit the country below, there remain 
 any satisfactory traditions cf their residences in, and transit through their 
 countries. 
 
 I close here my book (and probably for some time, my remarks), on the 
 friendly and hospitable Mandans. 
 
 Note — Several years having elapsed since the above account of the Mandans Wds 
 written, I open the book to convey to the reader the melancholy intelligence of the 
 deitruction of this interesting tribe, which happened a short time after I left their 
 country ; and the manner and causes of their misfortune I have explained in the Appen- 
 dix to the Second Volume of this Work ; as well as some further considerations of the 
 subject just above-named, relative co their early history, and tlie probable fate of the 
 followers of Mudoc, to wliich I respectfully refer the reader before he goes further in 
 the body of the Work. See Appendix A. 
 
 i| 
 
!. . 
 
 2()'-^ 
 
 letter-No. 20. 
 
 MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, UPPER MISSOURI 
 
 fcK 4 
 
 Since writing the above Letter I have descended the Missouri, a distance 
 of six or seven hundred miles, in my little bark, with Ra'tiste and Bogard> 
 my old " compagnons du voyage," and have much to say of what we three 
 did and what we saw on our way, which will be given anon. 
 
 I am now in the heart of the country belonging to the numerous tribe of 
 Sioux or Dahcotas, and have Indian faces and Indian customs in abun- 
 dance around me. This tribe is one of the most numerous in Nortli America, 
 and also one of the most vigorous and warlike tribes to be found, number- 
 ing some forty or fifty thousand, and able undoubtedly to muster, if the 
 tribe could be moved simultaneously, at least eight or ten thousand Warriors, 
 well mounted and well armed. This tribe take vast numbers of the wild 
 horses on the plains towards the Rocky Mountains, and many of them have 
 been supplied with guns ; but the greater part of them hunt with their bows 
 and arrows and long lances, killing their game from their horses' backs while 
 at full speed. 
 
 The name Sioux (pronounced see-oo) by which they are familiarly called, is 
 one that has been given to them by the French traders, the meaning of which 
 I never have learned; their own name being, in their language, Dah-co-ta. 
 The personal appearance of these people is very fine and prepossessing, their 
 persons tall and straight, and their movements elastic and graceful. Their 
 stature is considerably above that of the Mandans and Riccarees, or Black- 
 feet ; but about equal to that of the Crows, Assinneboins and Minatarees, 
 furnishing at least one half of their warriors of six feet or more in height. 
 
 I am here living with, and enjoying the hospitality of a gentleman by the 
 name of Laidlaw, a Scotchman, who is attached to the American Fur Com- 
 pany, and who, in company with Mr. M'Kenzie (of whom I have before 
 spoken) and Lamont, has the whole agency of the Fur Company's transac- 
 tions in the regions of the Upper Missouri and the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 This gentleman has a finely-built Fort here, of two or three hundred 
 feet square, enclosing eight or ten of their factories, houses and stores, 
 in the ..lidst of which he occupies spacious and comfortable apartments, 
 which are well supplied with the comforts and luxuries of life and neatly 
 and respectably conducted by a fine looking, modest, and dignified Sioux 
 
i, a distance 
 and Bogardi 
 liat we three 
 
 irous tribe of 
 ns in abun- 
 rt}i America, 
 nd, number- 
 luster, if the 
 md Warriors, 
 s of the wild 
 jf them have 
 :h their bows 
 backs while 
 
 irly called, is 
 
 ing of which 
 Dah-co-ta. 
 
 lessing, their 
 
 eful. Their 
 , or Black- 
 Vlinatarees, 
 height, 
 man by the 
 
 n Fur Com- 
 lave before 
 
 y's transac- 
 
 ntains. 
 
 ee hundred 
 and stores, 
 apartments, 
 and neatly 
 lified SiouK 
 
 n 
 
209 
 
 woman, the iiiid and afiectionntc mother of his little flock of pretty nnd in- 
 teresting children. 
 
 This Fort is iindoubtedlj one of the most important and productive of 
 the American Fur Company's posts, being in the centre of the great Sioux 
 country, drawing from all quarters an immense and almost incredible 
 number of buffalo robes, which are carried io the New York and other Eas- 
 tern markets, and sold at a great profit. This post is thirteen hundred 
 miles above St. Louis, on the west bank of the Missouri, on a beautiful 
 plain near the mouth of th? Teton river which empties into the Missouri 
 f'om the West, and the Fort has received tlic name of Fort Pierre, in 
 compliment to Monsr. Pierre Ciiouteau, who is one of the partners in the 
 Fur Company, residing in St. Louis ; and to whose politeness I am indebted^ 
 as I have before mentioned, for my passage in the Company's steamer, on 
 her first voyage to the Yellow Stone ; and whose urbane and gentlemanly 
 society, I have before said, I had during my passage. 
 
 The couitry about this Fort is almost entirely prairie, producing along the 
 banks of the river and streams only, slight skirtings of timber. No site 
 could have been selected more pleasing or more advantageous than this ; the 
 Fort is in the centre of one of the Missouri's most beautiful plains, and hem- 
 med in by a series of gncefuUy undulating, grass-covered hills, on all sides ; 
 rising like a .. -ies of terraces, to the summit level of the prai.ies, some three 
 or four hundred leet in elevation, which then stretches off in an apparently 
 boundless ocean of gracefully swelling waves and fields of green. On 
 my way up the river I made a painting of this lovely spot, taken from the 
 summit of the bluffs, a mile or two distant (plate 85), shewing an encamp- 
 ment of Sioux, of six hundred tents or skin lodges, around the Fort, where 
 they had concentrated to make their spring trade ; exchanging their furs and 
 peltries for articles and luxuries of civilized manufactures. 
 
 The great family of Sioux who occupy so vast a tract of country, extend- 
 ing from the banks of the Mississippi river to the base of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, are everywhere a migratory or roaming tribe, divided into forty-two 
 bands or families, each having a chief who all acknowledge a superior or 
 head chief, to whom they all are held subordinate. This subordination, 
 however, 1 should rather record as their former and native regulation, of 
 which there exists no doubt, than an existing one, since the numerous inno- 
 vations made amongst these people by the Fur Traders, as well as by the 
 proximity of civilization along a gret. :, deal of their frontier, which soon upset 
 and change many native regulations, and particularly those relating to thc'r 
 government and religion. 
 
 There is one principal and familiar division of this tribe into what are called 
 tiie Mississippi and Missouri Sioux. Those bordering on the banks of the 
 Mississippi, concentrating at Prairie du Chien and Foit Snelling, for the 
 purposes of trade, &c., are called the Mississippi Sioux. These are some- 
 what advanced towards civilization, and familiar with white people, with 
 
 VOL. I. E E 
 
 m 
 
210 
 
 n\ 
 
 wliom tliey nave lielil intercourse lor ninny years, and are consequently ex- 
 cessive whiskey drinitors, thougli coiiHtiUiting but a mengre proportion, and 
 at the same time, but a very unfiiir iind imperfect sample of the great mam 
 of this tribe who inhabit tlie slioros of the Missouri, and fearlessly roam on 
 the vast plains intervening between it and the Rocky Mountains, und are 
 stifl living entirely in their primitive condition. 
 
 There is no tribe on the Continent, perhaps, of finer looking men than the 
 Sioux ; and few tribes who are better and more comfortably clad, and sup- 
 plied with the necessaries of life. There are no parts of the great plains of 
 America which are more abundantly stocked with buffaloes and wild horses, 
 nor any people iKorc bold in destroying the one for food, and appropriating 
 tlu' other to their use. There has gone abroad, from the many histories which 
 have been written of these people, an opinion which is too current in the 
 world, that the Indian is necessarily a poor, drunken, murderous wretch ; 
 which account is certainly unjust as regards the savage, and doing less 
 than justice to the world for whom such histories have been prepared. I 
 have travelled several years already amongst these people and 1 have not 
 had my scalp taken, nor a blow struck me ; nor had occasion to raise my 
 hand against an Indian ; nor has my property been stolen, as yet to my 
 knowledge, to the value of a shilling ; and that in a country where no man 
 is punishable by law for the crime of stealing ; still some of them steal, and 
 murder too ; and if white men dkl not do the same, and that in defiance 
 of the laws of God and man, I might take satisfaction in stigmatizing the 
 Indian character as thievish and murderous. That the Indians in their native 
 state are "drunken," is false ; for they are the only temperance people, lite- 
 rally speaking, that ever I saw in my travels, or ever expect to see. If the 
 civilized world are startled at this, it is the /act that they must battle with, 
 not with me ; for these people manufacture no spirituous liquor themselves, 
 and know nothing of it until it is brought into their country and tendered to 
 them by Christians. That these people are '^ naked" is equally untrue, and 
 as easily disproved ; for I am sure that with the paintings I have made 
 amongst the Mandans and Crows, and other tribes ; and with their beautiful 
 costumes which I have procured and shall bring home, I shall be able to 
 establish the fact that many of these people dress, not only with clothes 
 comfortable for any latitude, but that they also dress with some consider- 
 able taste and elegance. Nor am I quite sure that they are entitled to the 
 name o{"poor" who live in a boundless country of green 6elds, with good 
 horses to ride ; where they are all joint tenants of the soil, together; where 
 the Great Spirit has supplied them with an abundance of food to eat — where 
 they are all indulging in the pleasures and amusements of a lifetime of idle- 
 ness and ease, with no business hours to attend to, or professions to learn — 
 where they have no notes in bank or other debts to pay — no taxes, no 
 tithes, no rents, nor beggars to touch and tax the sympathy of their souls 
 at every step they go. Such might be poverty in the Christian world, but 
 
[icntly ex- 
 irtion, and 
 ;rcat masis 
 ^ roam on 
 I, and are 
 
 n than tlie 
 1, and 8up- 
 t plains of 
 ild horses^ 
 propriating 
 Dries wliich 
 jnt in the 
 J9 wretch ; 
 doing lest 
 epared. I 
 have not 
 I raise my 
 yet to my 
 !re no man 
 I steal, and 
 in defiance 
 latizing the 
 heir native 
 eople, lite- 
 ee. If the 
 )attle with, 
 themselves, 
 tendered to 
 intrue, and 
 lave made 
 ir beautiful 
 be able to 
 rith clothes 
 J consider- 
 itled to the 
 with good 
 ler; where 
 ;at — where 
 me of idle- 
 to learn — 
 taxes, no 
 tlieir souls 
 world, but 
 
 X 
 
 S- CifJi 
 
 / 
 
 5H 
 
 \ 
 
 86 
 
211 
 
 is snre to be a blessing where the pride and insolence of comparative wealth 
 are unknown. 
 
 I mentioned that this is the nucleus or place of concentration of the nu- 
 merous tribe of the Sioux, who often congregate here in great masses to 
 make their trades with the American Fur Company ; and that on my way 
 up the river, some months since, I found here encamped, six hundred fami- 
 lies of Sioux, living in tents covered with buffalo hides. Amongst these there 
 were twenty or more of the different bands, each one with their chief at their 
 head, over whom was a sj</)enor c/iie/and leader, a middle-aged man, ot 
 middling stature, with a noble countenance, and a figure almost equalling 
 the Apollo, and I painted his portrait (plate 86). The name of this chief 
 is Ha-won-je-tah (the one horn) of the Mee-ne-cow-e-gee band, wiio has 
 risen rapidly to the highest honours in the tribe, from his own extraordinary 
 merits, even at so early an age. He told me that he took the name of " One 
 Horn" (or shell) from a simple small shell that was hanging on his neck, 
 which descended to him from his father, and which, he said, he valued more 
 than anything he possessed ; affording a striking instance of the living affec- 
 tion which these people often cherish for the dead, inasmuch as he chose 
 to carry this name through life in preference to many others and more 
 honourable ones he had a right to have taken, from different battles and 
 exploits of his extraordinary life. He treated me with great kindness and 
 attention, considering himself highly complimented by the signal and unpre- 
 cedented honour 1 had conferred upon him by painting his portrait, and' that 
 before I had invited any other. His costume was a very handsome one, and 
 will have a place in my Indian Gallery by the side of his picture. It is 
 made of elk skins beautifully dressed, and fringed with a profusion ot 
 porcupine quills and scalp-locks ; and his hair, which is very long and pro- 
 fuse, divided into two parts, and lifted up and crossed, over the top of his 
 head, with a simple tie, giving it somewhat the appearance of a Turkish 
 turban. 
 
 This extraordinary man, before he was raised to the dignity of chief, 
 was luc renowned of his tribe for his athletic achievements. In the chase 
 he was foremost ; he could run down a buffalo, which he often had done, 
 on his own legs, and drive his arrow to the heart. He was the fleetest in 
 the tribe ; and in the i,.ices he had run, he had always tak^ju the prize. 
 
 It was proverbial in his tribe, that Ha-wan-je-tah's bow never was drawn 
 in vain, and his wigwam was abundantly furnished with scalps that he had 
 taken from his enemies' heads in battle. 
 
 Having descended the river thus far, then, and having hauled out my 
 canoe, and taken up my quarters for awhile with mine hospitable host, Mr. 
 Laidlaw, as I have before said ; and having introduced my readers to the 
 country and the people, and more particularly to the cliief dignitary of the 
 Sioux ; and having promised in the beginning of this Letter also, that I 
 should give them some amusing and curious information that we picked up. 
 
i. if 
 
 \\i 
 
 }\ 
 
 21-2 
 
 and iucitlents that we met witli, on our voyage from the Mandans to tliis 
 place ; I have again to beg that they will pardon me for withholding from 
 them yet awhile longer, the incidents of that curious and most important 
 part of my Tour, the absence of which, at this time, seems to make a " hole 
 in the ballad," though I promise my readers they ate written, and will appear 
 in the book in a proper and appropriate place. 
 
 Taking it for granted then, that I will be indulged in this freak, I am 
 taking the liberty of presuming on my readers' patience in proposing another, 
 which is to offer them here an extract from my Notes, which were made on 
 my journey of 1300 miles from St. Louis to this place, where I stopped, 
 as I have said, amongst several thousands of Sioux ; where I remained for 
 some time, and painted my numerous portraits of their chiefs, &c. ; one of 
 whom was the head and leader of the Sioux, whom I have already intro- 
 duced. On the long and tedious route that lies between St. Louis and this 
 place, I pasoed the Sacs and loways — the Konzas — the Omahaws, and the 
 Ottoes (mu'ting notes on them all, which are reserved for another place), 
 and landed at the Puncahs, a small tribe residing in one village, on the west 
 bank of the river, 300 miles below this, and 1000 from St. Louis. 
 
 The Puncahs are all contained in seventy-five or eighty lodges, made of 
 buffalo skins, in the form of tents ; the frames for which are poles of fifteen 
 or twenty feet in length, with the butt ends standing on the ground and 
 tlie small ends meeting at the top, forming a cone, which sheds off the 
 rain and wind with perfect success. This small remnant of a tribe are not 
 more than four or five hundred in nur."bers ; and I should think, at least, 
 two- thirds of those are women. This disparity in numbers having been pro- 
 duced by the continual losses which their men suffer, who are penetrating 
 the buffalo country for meat, for which they are now obliged to travel a 
 great way (as the buffaloes have recently left their country), exposing their 
 lives to their more numerous enemies about them. 
 
 The chief of this tribe, whose name is Shoo-de-ga-cha (smoke), I painted 
 at full length (plate 87), and his wife also, a young and very pretty woman 
 (plate 88), whose name is Hee-la'h-dee (the pure fountain); her neck 
 and arms were curiously tattooed, which is a very frequent mode of orna- 
 menting the body amongst this and some other tribes, which is done by 
 pricking into the skin, gunpowder and vermilion. 
 
 The chief, who was wrapped in a buffalo robe, is a noble specimen of 
 native dignity and philosophy. I conversed much with him ; and from his 
 Signified manners, as well as from the soundness of his reasoning, I became 
 fully convinced that he deserved to be the sachem of a more numerous and 
 prosperous tribe. He related to me with great coolness and frankness, the 
 poverty and distress of his nation ; and with the method of a philosopher, 
 predicted the certain and rapid extinction of his tribe, which he had not the 
 power to avert. Poor, noble chief; who was equal to, and worthy of a 
 greater empire ! He sat upon the deck of the steamer, overlooking the little 
 
Mandans to this 
 
 withholding from 
 
 id most important 
 
 I to make a " hole 
 
 n, and will appear 
 
 this freak, I am 
 proposing another, 
 lich were made on 
 , where I stopped, 
 re I remained for 
 liefs, &c. ; one of 
 ave already intro- 
 >t. Louis and this 
 ])mahaws, and the 
 )r another place), 
 illage, on the west 
 , Louis. 
 
 y lodges, made of 
 re poles of fifteen 
 
 the ground and 
 ich sheds off the 
 of a tribe are not 
 d think, at least, 
 
 having been pro- 
 ) are penetrating 
 liged to travel a 
 i), exposing their 
 
 moke), I painted 
 ery pretty woman 
 ntain); her neck 
 t mode of orna- 
 ^hich is done by 
 
 oble specimen of 
 n ; and from his 
 soning, I became 
 re numerous and 
 id frankness, the 
 )f a philosopher, 
 h he had not the 
 and worthy of a 
 looking the little 
 
 vA\ 
 
 I 1 
 
 i 
 
 ^v ■■'-^\ mi. 
 
 \ •■-, \ V \ \ / I 
 
 -/. / - 
 
 
 :-ii>- 
 
 
 CO 
 
 V' (I 
 
 ^s^^i^gM 
 
 iUUMa^l^ 
 
2)3 
 
 cluster of his wigwams mingled amongsl the trees ; and, li4ce Caius Marius, 
 weeping over the ruins of Carthage, shed tears as he was descanting on the 
 poverty of his ill-fated little community, which he told me " had once been 
 powerful and happy ; that the buffaloes which the Great Spirit had given 
 them for food, and svhich formerly spead all over their green prairies, 
 had all been killed or driven out by the approach of white men, who wanted 
 their skins ; that their country was now entirely destitute of t;ame, and 
 even of roots for their food, as it was one continued prairie ; and that his 
 young men penetrating the countries of their enemies for buffaloes, vhich 
 they were obliged to do, were cut to \'<..cea and destroyed in great numbers. 
 That his people had foolishly become fond oi Jire-ivnter (whiskey), and had 
 given away everything in their country for it — that it had destroyed many 
 of his warriors, and soon would destroy the rest- —that his tribe was too 
 small, and his warriors too few to go to war with the trihps around them ; 
 that they were met and killed by the Sioux on the North, by the Pawnees 
 on the West ; and by the Osages and Konzas on the South ; and stiil more 
 alarmed from the constant advance of the pale faces — their enemies from tl^e 
 East, with whiskey and small -pox, which already had destroyed four-fifths 
 of his tribe, and soon would impoverish, and at last destroy the remainder 
 of them." 
 
 In this way did this shrewd philosopher lament over the unlucky destiny 
 of his tribe ; and I pitied him with all my heart. I have no doubt of the 
 correctness of his representations ; and I believe there is no tribe on the 
 frontier more in want, nor any more deserving of the sympathy and charity 
 of the government and Christian societies of the civilized world. 
 
 The son of this chief, a youth of eighteen years, and whose portrait I painted 
 (plate 90), distinguished himself in a singular manner the day before 
 our steamer reached their village, by taking to him four wives in one day ! 
 This extraordinary and unprecedented freak of his, was just the thing to 
 make him the greatest sort of medicine in the eyes of his people ; and pro- 
 bably he may date much of his success and greatness through life, to this 
 bold and original step, which suddenly raised him into notice and im- 
 portance. 
 
 The old chief Shoo-de-ga-cha, of whom I have spoken above> considering 
 his son to have arrived to the age of maturity, fitted him out for house seep- 
 ing, by giving him a handsome wigwam to live in, and nine horses, with 
 many other valuable presents ; when the boy, whose name is Hongs-kay-de 
 (the great chief), soon laid his plans for the proud and pleasant epoch in his 
 life, and consummated them in the following ingenious and amusing man- 
 ner. 
 
 Wishing to connect himself with, and consequently to secure the coun- 
 tenance of some of the most influential men in the tribe, he had held an 
 mterview with one of the most distinguished ; and easily (being the son of 
 a chief), made an arrangement for the hand of his d^iughter, which he was 
 
1:14 
 
 P? i 
 
 to receive on a certain day, and at a certain hour, for which he was to 
 give two horses, a gun, and several pounds of tobacco. This was enjoined on 
 the faihei as a profound secret, and as a condition of ihe espousal. In 
 like manner he soon made similar arrangements with three other leading 
 men of the tribe, each of whom had a young and beautiful daughter, of 
 marriageable age. To each of the fathers he had promised two horses, and 
 other presents similar to those stipulated for in the first instance, and all 
 under the same injunctions of secresy, until the hour approached, when he 
 had announced to the whole tribe that he was to be married. At the time 
 appointed, they all assembled, and a<l were in ignorance of the fair hand that 
 was to be placed in his on this occasion. He had got some of his young 
 friends who were prepared to assist him, to lead up the eight horses. He took 
 two of them by the halters, and the other presents agreed upon in his other 
 hand, and advancing to the first of the parents, whose daughter was standing 
 by the side of him, saying to him, " you promised me the hand of your 
 daughter on this day, for which I was to give you two horses." The father 
 assented with a "ugh !" receiving the presents, and giving his child ; when 
 some confusion ensued from the simultaneous remonstrances, which were 
 suddenly made by the other three parents, who had brought their daughters 
 forward, and were shocked at this sudden disappointment, as well as by the 
 mutual declarations they were making, of tiimilar contracts that each one 
 had entered into with him ! As soon as they could be pacified, and silence was 
 restored, he exultingly replied, '• You have all acknowledged in public your 
 promises with ni?, which 1 shall expect you to fulfil. I am here to perform 
 all the engagements which 1 have made, and I expect you all to do the 
 same" — No more was said. He led up the two horses for each, and deli- 
 vered the other presents ; leading off to his wigwam his four brides — taking 
 two in each hand, and commenced at once upon his new mode of life; re- 
 serving only one of his horses for his own daily use. 
 
 I visited the wigwam of this young installed medicine-man several times, 
 and saw his four modest little wives seated around the fire, where all seemed 
 to harmonize very well ; and for aught I could discover, were entei :iig very 
 happily on the duties and pleasu-es of married life. I selected one of them 
 for her portrait, and painted it (plate 89), Mong-shong-shaw (the bending 
 willow), in a very pretty dress of deer skins, and covered with a young buf- 
 falo's robe, which was handsomely ornamented, and worn with much grace 
 and pleasing effect. 
 
 Mr. Chouteau of the Fur Company, and Major Sanford, the agent for the 
 Upper Missouri Indians, were with me at this time ; and both of these 
 gentlemen, highly pleased with so ingenious and innocent a freak, felt dis- 
 posed to be liberal, and sent them many presents from the steamer. 
 
 The ages of these young brides were probably all between twelve and 
 fifteen years, the season of life in which most of the girls in this wild country 
 contract marriage. 
 
which he was to 
 9 was enjoined on 
 le espousal. In 
 rce other leading 
 tiful daughter, of 
 i two horses, and 
 instance, and all 
 •oached, when he 
 id. At the time 
 the fair hand that 
 me of his young 
 horses. He took 
 upon in his other 
 hterwas standing 
 de hand of your 
 ses." The father 
 : his child ; when 
 ices, which were 
 it their daughters 
 as well as by the 
 :s that each one 
 d, and silence was 
 ed in public your 
 n liere to perform 
 ou all to do the 
 )r each, and deli- 
 ir brides — taking 
 node of life ; re- 
 
 lan several times, 
 where all seemed 
 ere ente;:ag very 
 :ted one of tlicm 
 law (the bending 
 ith a young buf- 
 with much grace 
 
 the agent for the 
 d both of these 
 a freak, felt dis- 
 steamer. 
 
 iveen twelve and 
 this wild country 
 
 (O 
 
 
 -/J 
 
 
 i^*k « 
 
215 
 
 It is a surprising fact, tlut women mature in these regions at that early 
 age, and there have been some instances where marriage has taken place, 
 even at eleven ; and the juvenile mother has been blest with her first off- 
 spring at the age of twelve ! 
 
 These facts are calculated to create surprise and almost incredulity in the 
 mind of the reader, but there arc circumstances for his consideration yet to 
 be known, which will in a manner account for these extraordinary facts. 
 
 There is not a doubt but there is a more early approach to maturity 
 amongst the females of this country than in civilized communities, owing 
 either to a natural and constitutional difference, or to the exposed and active 
 life they lead. Yet there is another and more general cause of early mar- 
 riages (and consequently apparent maturity), which arises out of the modes 
 and forms of the country, where most of the marriages are contracted with the 
 parents, hurried on by the impatience of the applicant, and prematurely ac- 
 cepted and consummated on the part of the parents, who are often impatient 
 to be in receipt of the presents they are to receive as the price of their 
 daughters. There is also the facility of dissolving the marriage contract in 
 this country, which does away with one of the most serious difficulties which 
 lies in the way in the civilized world, and calculated greatly to retard its 
 consummation, which is not an equal objection in Indian communities. Edu- 
 cation and accomplishments, again, in the fashionable world, and also a 
 time and a season to flourish and show them off, necessarily engross that part 
 of a young lady's life, when the poor Indian girl, who finds herself weaned 
 from the familiar embrace of her parents, with her mind and her body ma- 
 turing, and her thoughts and her passions straying away in clie world for 
 some theme or some pleasure to cling to, easily follows their juvenile and 
 ardent dictates, prematurely entering on that system of life, consisting in 
 reciprocal dependence and protection. 
 
 In the instance above described, the young man was in no way censured 
 by his people, but most loudly applauded ; for in this country polygamy is 
 allowed ; and in this tribe, where there are two or three times the number of 
 women that there are of men, such an arrangement answers a good purpose, 
 whereby so many of the females are provided for and taken care of ; and 
 particularly so, and to the great satisfaction of the tribe, as well as of the 
 the parties and families concerned, when so many fall to the lot of a chief, 
 or the son of a chief, into whose wigwam it is considered an honour to be 
 adopted, and where they are the most sure of protection. 
 
V i • 
 
 liii 
 
 LETTER— No. 2t. 
 
 MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 When wc were about to start on our way up the river from flic village of 
 the Puncahs, we found that they were packinj? up all thtir floods and pre- 
 paring to start for the prairies, farther to the West, in pursuit of batfalocs, to 
 dry meat for their winter's supplies. They took down their wigwams of skins 
 to carry with them, and all were flat to the ground and everything packing 
 lip ready for the st rt. My attention was directed by Major Sanford, tl;e 
 Indian Agent, to one of the most miserable and helphss looking objects that 
 I ever had seen in my life, a very aged and emaciaied man of the tribe, 
 who he told me was to be exposed. 
 
 The tribe were going where hunger and dire necessity compelled thorn to go, 
 and this pitiable object, who had once been a chief, and a man of distinction 
 in his tribe, who was now too old to travel, being reduced to mere skin and 
 bones, was to be left to starve, or meet with such death as might fall to his 
 lot, and his bones to be picked by the wolves ! I lingered around this poor 
 old forsaken patriarch for hours before we started, to indulge the tears of 
 sympathy which were flowing for the sake of this poor benighted and de- 
 crepit old man, whose worn-out limbs were no longer able to support him ; 
 their kind and faithful offices having long since been performed, and his 
 body and his mind doomed to linger into the withering agony of decay, and 
 gradual solitary death. I wept, and it was a pleasure to weep, for the pain- 
 ful looks, and the dreary prospects of this old veteran, whose eyes were 
 dimmed, whose venerable locks werr; whitened by an hundred y^ars, whose 
 limbs Were almost naked, and trembling as he sat by a small fire which his 
 friends had left him, with a few sticks of wood within his reach and a buf- 
 falo's skin stretched upon some crotches over his head. Such was to be his 
 only dwelling, and such the chances for his life, with only a few half-picked 
 bones that were laid within his reach, and a dish of water, without weapons 
 or means of any kind to replenish them, or strength to move his body from 
 its fatal locality. In this sad plight I mournfully contemplated this miserable 
 remnant of existence, who had unluckily outlived the fates and accidents of 
 wars to die alone, at death's leisure. His friends and his children had all left 
 him, and were preparing in a little time to be on the march. He had told 
 
 rn^n 
 
217 
 
 /. 
 
 m the villaf^e of 
 ;oocIs and pre- 
 of bafTalocs, to 
 igwams of skins 
 ything packing 
 r Sanford, tlie 
 ing objects that 
 1 of the tribe, 
 
 lied them to so, 
 
 in of distinction 
 
 mere skin and 
 
 light fall to his 
 
 •ound this poor 
 
 ige the tears of 
 
 jhted and de- 
 
 ) support him ; 
 
 inned, and his 
 
 of decay, and 
 
 I, for the pain- 
 
 ose eyes were 
 
 years, whose 
 
 fire which his 
 
 ch and a buf- 
 
 was to be his 
 
 w half-picked 
 
 iiout weapons 
 
 his body from 
 
 this miserable 
 
 d accidents of 
 
 en had all left 
 
 He had told 
 
 them to leave him, " he was old," he said, "and too feeble to march." "My 
 children," said he, "our nation is poor, and it is necossory that you should hII 
 go to tlie country where you can get meat, — my eyes are dimmed and my 
 strength is no more; my days are nearly all numbered, and I am a burthen 
 to my children — 1 cannot go, and I wish to die. Keep your hearts stout, 
 and think not of me ; I am no longer good for anything." In thid way 
 they had finished the ceremony o( exposirifj him, and taken their final ' vc 
 of him. I advanced to the old man, and was undoubtedly the last li... nii 
 being who held converse with hiin. I sat by the side of him, and thouy,h he 
 coidd not distinctly see me, he shook me heartily by the hand and smile' 
 evidently aware that I was a white man, and that I sympathized witii his 
 inevitable misfortune. I shook hands again with him, and left him, steering 
 my course towards the steamer which was a mile or more from me, and 
 ready to resume her voyage up the Missouri.* 
 
 This cruel custom of exposing their aged people, belongs, I think, to all 
 the tribes who roam about the prairies, making severe marches, when such 
 decrepit persons are totally unable to go, uuabL to ride or to walk, — when 
 they have no means of carrying them. It often becomes absolutely neces- 
 sary in such cases that they should be left ; and they uniformly insist upon 
 it, saying as this old man did, that they are old and of no further use — that 
 they left their fathers in the same manner — that they wish to die, and their 
 children must not mourn for them. 
 
 From the Puncah village, our steamer made regular progress from day to 
 day towards the mouth of the Teton, from where I am now writing ; passing 
 the whole way a country of gi'een fields, that come sloping down to the 
 river on either side, forming the iuveliest scenes in the world. 
 
 From day to day we advanced, opening our eyes to something new and 
 more beautiful every hour that we progressed, until at last our boat was 
 aground ; and a day's work of sounding told us at last, that there was no 
 possibility of advancing further, until th ire should be a rise in the river, to 
 enable the boat to get over the bar. After laying in the middle of the river 
 about a week, in this unpromising dilen.ma, Mr. Chouteau started off 
 twenty men on foot, to cross the plains for a distance of 200 miles to Laid- 
 law's Fort, at the mouth of Teton river. To this expedition, I immediately 
 attached myself ; and having heard that a numerous party of Sioux were 
 there encamped, and waiting to see the steamer, I packed on the backs, 
 and in the hands of several of the men, such articles for painting, as 
 1 might want; canvass, paints, and brushes, with my sketch-book slung on 
 my back, and my rifle in my hand, and I started off with them. 
 
 * When passing b; the site of the Puncah village a few months after this, in my canoe, 
 I went ashore irith my men, and found the poles and the buffalo skin, standing as they were 
 left, over the old man's head. The firebrands were lying nearly as I had left them, and I 
 found at a few yards distant the skull, and others of his bones, which haJ been picked and 
 cleaned by the wolves ; which is probably all that any human being can ever know of his 
 final and melancholy fate. 
 
 VOL. 1. F F 
 
!) : :^i 
 
 218 
 
 iA 
 
 We took leave of our friends on tlic boat, iind mounting the green blufTs, 
 •teorctl our cotirse from day to day over a level prairie, without a tree or a 
 Itiisli ill siglit, to relieve the painful monotony, filling our cantecnj at the 
 occasional little streams that we passed, kindling our fires with dried buffalo 
 dung, which wc collected on the prairie, and stretching our tired limbs on 
 the level turf whenever we were overtaken by night. 
 
 We were six or seven days in performing this march ; and it gave me 
 ft p,ood opportunity of testing the muscles of my legs, with a number 
 of half-breeds and Frenchmen, whose lives arc mostly spent in this way, 
 leading a novice, a cruel, and almost killing journey. Every rod of our 
 way was over a continuous prairie, with a verdant green turf of wild grass 
 of six or eight inches in height ; and most of the way enamelled with wild 
 flowers, and Bllcd with a profusion of strawberries. 
 
 For two or three of the first days, the scenery was monotonous, and be- 
 came exceedingly painful tVom tlie fact, that we were (to use a phrase of the 
 country) " out of sight of laud," t. e. out of sij^ht of anything rising above 
 the horizon, which was a perfect straight line around us, like that of the blue 
 and boundless ocean. The pedestrian over such a discouraging sea of green, 
 without a landmark before or behind him ; without a beacon to lead him 
 on, or define his progress, feels weak and overcome when night falls ; and 
 he stretches his exhausted limbs, apparently on the same spot where he 
 has slept the night before, with the same prospect before and behind him ; 
 the same grass, and the same wild flowers beneath and about him ; the same 
 canopy over his head, and the same cheerless sea of green to start upon in 
 the morning. It is difHcult to describe the simple beauty and serenity of 
 these scenes of solitude, or the feelings of feeble man, whose limbs are toil- 
 ing to carry him through them — without a hill or tree to mark his progress, 
 and convince him that he is not, like a squirrel in his cage, after all his toil, 
 standing still. One commences on peregrinations like these, with a light 
 heart, and a nimble foot, and spirits as buoyant as the very air that floats 
 along by the side of him ; but his spirit soon tires, and he lags on the way 
 that is rendered more tedious and intolerable by the tantalizing mirage that 
 opens before him beautiful lakes, and lawns, and copses ; or by the looming 
 of the prairie ahead of him, that seems to rise in a parapet, and decked with 
 its varied flowers, phantom-like, flies and moves along before him. 
 
 I got on for a couple of days in tolerable condition, and with some con- 
 siderable applause ; but my half-bred, companions took the lead at length, 
 and left me with several other novices far behind, which gave me additional 
 panga ; aiid I at length felt like giving up the journey, and throwing my- 
 self upon the ground in hopeless despair. I was not alone in my misery, 
 however, but was cheered and encouraged by looking back and beholding 
 several of our party half a mile or more in the rear of me, jogging along, 
 and suffering more agony in their new experiment than I was suffering my- 
 self. Their loitering and my nuirnnirs, at length, brought our leaders to a 
 
219 
 
 :lie green blufTs, 
 loiit a tree or a 
 ?untccnj at the 
 til dried buffalo 
 r tired limbs on 
 
 and it gave me 
 with a number 
 int in this way, 
 /ery rod of our 
 rf of wild grass 
 nelled with wild 
 
 tonous, and be- 
 
 a phrase of tiie 
 
 ing rising above 
 
 that of the blue 
 
 ng sea of green, 
 
 con to lead iiini 
 
 light falls; and 
 
 ; spot where he 
 
 lid behind him ; 
 
 him ; the same 
 
 o start upon in 
 
 and serenity of 
 
 limbs are toil- 
 
 rk his progress, 
 
 ifter all his toil, 
 
 so, with a light 
 
 air that floats 
 
 ags on the way 
 
 ing mirage that 
 
 by the looming 
 
 nd decked with 
 
 him. 
 
 with some con- 
 lead at length, 
 e me additional 
 throwing my- 
 ; in my misery, 
 and beholding 
 jogging along, 
 s suffering my- 
 our leaders to a 
 
 halt, nnd wc hehl a sort of council, in which I explained that the pain in niv 
 feet was so infolorable, that 1 felt m if I could go no further ; when one of 
 our half-breed leaders stepprd up to nic, and addressing me in French, 
 told me that I must " turn mif toes in" as thj Indians do, nnd that I co\dd 
 then go on very well. We halted a half-hour, and took a little lefreshmcnt, 
 whilst the little Frenchman was teaching his leison to the rest of my fellow- 
 novices, when wc took up our march again ; and 1 soon found upon triah 
 that by turning my toes in, my feet went more easily through the grass ; 
 and by turning tlie weight of my body more equally on the toes (enabling 
 eHch one to support itr; proportionable part of the load, instead of throwing 
 it all on to the joints of the big toes, whicn is done when the toes are turned 
 out) ; I soon got relief, and made my onward progress very well. I rigidly 
 adhered to this mode, and found no difficulty on the third and fourth days, 
 of taking the lead of the whole party, which I constantly led until our jour« 
 ney was completed.* 
 
 On this journey we saw immense herds of bi^faloes ; and although we 
 had no horses to run them, we successfully ufprou hed them on foot, 
 and supplied ourselves abundantly with fresh meat. After travelling for 
 several days, we came in sight of a high range of blue hills in distance on 
 our left, which rose to the height of several hundred feet above the level of 
 the prairies. These hills were a conspicuous landmark at last, and some 
 relief to us. I was told by our guide, that they were calleu the Bijou Hills, 
 from a Fur Trader of that name, who had had his trading-house at the foot 
 of them on the banks of the Missouri river, where he was at last destroyed 
 by the Sioux Indians. 
 
 Not many miles back of this range of hills, we came in contact with an 
 immense saline, or " salt meadow," as they are termed in this country, which 
 turned us out of our path, and compelled us to travel several miles out of 
 our way, to get by it ; we came suddenly upon a great depression of the 
 prairie, which extended for several miles, and as we stood upon its green 
 banks, which were gracefully sloping down, we could overlook some hun- 
 dreds of acres of the prairie which were covered with an incrustation of salt, 
 that appeared the same as if the ground was everywhere covered with snow. 
 
 These scenes, I am told are frequently to be met with in these regions, 
 and certainly present the most singular and startling effect, by the sudden 
 
 * On this march we were all travelling in moccasins, which being made without any 
 soles, according to the Indian custom, bad but little support for the foot underneath ; aiul 
 consequently soon subjected us to excruciating pain, whilst walking according to the 
 civilized mode, with the toes turned out. From this very painful experience I learned to 
 my complete satisfaction, that man in a state of nature who walks on his naked feet, must 
 walk with his toes turned in, that each may perform the duties assigned to it in proportion 
 to its size and strength ; and that civilized man can walk with his toes turned out if he 
 chooses, if he will use a sliflF sole under his feet, and will be content at last to put up 
 with an acquired deformity of the big toe joint which too many know tu be i frequent 
 and painful occurrence. 
 
220 
 
 ' : 
 
 ir\ 
 
 and unexpected contrast between their snow-white appearai.ce, and the 
 green fields that hem them in on all sides. Through each of these meadows 
 there is a meandering small stream which arises fVom salt springs, throwing 
 out in the spring of the year great quantities of water, which flood over 
 these meadows to the depth of three or four feet ; and during the heat of 
 summer, being exposed to the rays of the sun, entirely evaporates, leaving 
 the incrustation of muriate on the surface, to tlie depth of one or two inches. 
 These places are the constant resort of buffaloes, which congregate in thou- 
 sands about them, to lick up the salt ; and on approaching the banks of 
 this place we stood amazed at the almost incredible numbers of these ani- 
 mals, which were in sight on the opposite banks, at the distance of a mile 
 or two from us, where they were lying in countless numbers, on the level 
 prairie above, and stretching down by hundreds, to lick at the salt, forming 
 ill distance, large masses of black, most pleasingly to contrast with the snow 
 white, and the vivid green, whicli I have before mentioned. 
 
 After several days toil in the manner above-mentioned, all the way over 
 soft and green fields, and amused with many pleasing incidents and acci- 
 dents of the chase, we arrived, pretty well jaded, at Fort Pierre, mouth of 
 Teton River, from whence 1 am now writing ; where for the first time I was 
 introduced to Mr. M'Kenzie (of whom I liave before spoken), to Mr. Laid- 
 law, mine host, and Mr. Halsey, a chief clerk in the establishment ; and 
 after, to the head chief and dignitaries of the great Sioux nation, who were 
 here encamped about the Fort, in six or seven hundred skin lodges, and 
 waiting for the arrival of the steamer, which they had heard, was on its way 
 up the river, and which they had great curiosity to see. 
 
 After resting a few days, and recovering from the fatigues of my journey, 
 having taken a fair survey of the Sioux village, and explained my views to 
 the Indians, as well as to the gentlemen wliom I have above named ; I 
 commenced my operations witli the brush, and first of all painted the por- 
 trait of the head-chief of the Sioux (the one horn), whom I have bnfore 
 spoken of. This truly noble fellow sat for his portra"* and it was finished 
 before any one of the tribe knew anything of it ; several of the chiefs and doc- 
 tors were allowed to see it, and at last it was talked of through the village ; 
 and of course, the greater part of their numbers were at once gathered 
 around me. Nothing short of hanging it out of doors on the side of my wig- 
 wam, would in any way answer them ; and here T had the peculiar satisfaction 
 of beholding, through a small hole I had made in my wigwam, the high admi- 
 ration and respect they all felt for their cliief , as well as the very great esti- 
 mation in which they held me as a painter and a magician, conferring upon 
 me at once the very distinguished appellation of Ee-cha-zoo-kah-ga-wa-kon 
 (the medicine painter). 
 
 After the exhibition of this chief's picture, there was much excitement 
 in the village about it ; the doctors generally took a decided and noisy stand 
 against the operations of my brush ; haranguing the populace, and predict- 
 
rai.ce, and Uie 
 these meadowa 
 )rings, throwing 
 lich flood over 
 ing the heat of 
 porates, leaving 
 e or two inches. 
 ;regate in thou- 
 the banks of 
 rs of these ani- 
 ;ance of a mile 
 !rs, on the level 
 he salt, forming 
 t with the snow 
 
 11 the way over 
 lents and acci- 
 'ierre, mouth of 
 first time I was 
 i), to Mr. Laid- 
 blishment ; and 
 ation, who were 
 kin lodges, and 
 was on its way 
 
 of my journey, 
 led my views to 
 30ve named ; I 
 ainted the por- 
 i I have bnfore 
 
 it was finished 
 chiefs and doc- 
 igh the village ; 
 
 once gathered 
 side of my wig- 
 iliar satisfaction 
 the high admi- 
 very great esti- 
 jonferring upon 
 Icah-ga-wa-kon 
 
 Jch excitement 
 ind noisy stand 
 e, and predict- 
 
 221 
 
 ing bad luck, and premature death, to all who submitted to so strange and 
 unaccountable an operation ! My business for some days was entirely at a 
 stand for want of sitiers ; for the doctors were opposing me with all their 
 lorce ; and the women and children were crying, with their hands over their 
 mouths, making the most pitiful and doleful laments, which I never can ex- 
 plain to my readers; but for some just account of which, I must refer them 
 to my friends M'Kenzie and Halsey, who overlooked with infinite amuse- 
 ment, these curious scenes and are able, no doubt, to give them with truth 
 and effect to the world. 
 
 In this sad and perplexing dilemma, this noble chief stepped forward, and 
 addressing himself to the chiefs and the doctors, to the braves and to the wo- 
 men and children, he told them to be quiet, and to treat me with friendship ; 
 that I had been travelling a great way to see them, and smoke with them ; 
 tliat I was great medic ne, to be sure ; that I was a great chief, and that 1 was 
 the friend of Mr. Laidlaw and Mr. M'Ken?ie, who had prevailed upon hun 
 to sit for his picture, and fully assured him that there was no harm in it. 
 His speech had the desired effect, and I was shaken hands with by hundreds 
 of their worthies, many of whom were soon dressed and ornamented, prepared 
 to sit for their portraits.* 
 
 • Pcveral years after I painted the portrait of this extraordinary man, una whilst I 
 was delivering my Lectures in the City of New York, I first received intelligence of his 
 death, in the following singular manner: — I was on the platform in my Lecture-room, in 
 the Stuyvesant Institute, with an audience of twelve or fourteen hundred persons, in the 
 i.iidst of whom were seated a delegation of thirty or forty Sioux Indians under the charge 
 of Major Pilcher, their agent ; and I was successfully passing before their eyes the por- 
 traits of a number of Sioux chiefs, and making my remarks upon them. The Sioux in- 
 stantly recognized each one as it was exhibited, which they instantly bailed by a sharp 
 and startling yelp. But when the portrait of this chief was placed before them, instead 
 of the usual recogr.ilion, each one placed his hand over his mouth, and gave a 
 "hush — sh — " and hung down their heads, their usual expressions of grief in case of a 
 death. From this sudden emotion, I knew instantly, that the chief must be dead, and so 
 expressed my beliei'to the audience. I stopped my Lecture a few moments to converse 
 with Major Pilcher who was by my side, and who gave me the following extraordinary 
 account of his death, which I immediately related to the audience ; and which being trans- 
 lated to the Sioux Indians, their chief arose and addressed himself to the audience, say- 
 ing that the account was true, and that Ha-wan-je-tah was killed but a few days before 
 they left home. 
 
 The account which Major Pilclier gave was nearly as follows :— 
 
 " But a few weeks before 1 left the Sioux country with the delegation, Ila-wan-je-tah 
 (the one horn) had in some way been the accidental cause of the death of his only son, a 
 very fine youth ; and so great was the anguish of his mind at times, that he became 
 frantic and insane. In one of these moods he mounted his favourite war-horse with liis 
 bow iiiid his nrrows in his hand, and dashed oil' at full speed upon the prairies, repeating 
 the most solemn oath, ' that he would slay the first living thing that fell in his way, be it 
 man or beast, or friend or foe.' 
 
 " No one dared to follow him, and after he had been absent an hour or two, his horse 
 came back to the village with two arrows in its body, and covered with blood 1 Fears 
 of the most serious kind were now entertained for the fate of the chief, and a party of 
 
 ^!i 
 
22a 
 
 The first w]io tlicn stepped forward for his portrait was Ee-ah-sa-pa (the 
 Black Rock) chief of the Nee-caw-wee-gee band (plate 91), a 'all and fine 
 looking man, of six feet or more in stature ; in a splendid dress, with his 
 lance in his hand ; with his pictured robe thrown gracefully over his shoul- 
 ders, and his head-dress made of war-eagles' quills and ermine skins, falling 
 in a beautiful crest over his bac\, quite down to his feet, and surmounted on 
 the top with a pair of horns denoting him (as I have explained in former 
 instances) head leader or war-chief of his band. 
 
 This man has been a constant and faithful friend of Mr. M'Kenzie and 
 others of the Fur Traders, who held him in hip!;h estimation, both as an 
 honourable and valiant man, and an estimable companion. 
 
 The next who sat to me was Tchan-dee, tobacco (plate 92), a desperate 
 warrior, and represented to me by the traders, as one of the most respectable 
 and famous chiefs of the tribe. After him sat Toh-ki-ee-to, the stone with 
 horns (plate 93), chief of the Yanc-ton band, and reputed the principal 
 and most eloquent orator of the naMon. The neck, and breast, and shoulders 
 of this man, were curiously tattooed, by pricking in gunpowder and vermilion, 
 which in this extraordinary instance, was put on in such elaborate profusion 
 as to appear at a little distance like a beautifully embroidered dress. In 
 his hand he held a handsome pipe, the stem of which was several fieet long, 
 and all the way wound with ornamented braids of the porcupine quills. 
 Around his body was v,rapped a valued robe, made of the skin of the grizzly 
 bear, and on his neck several strings of wampum, an ornament seldom seen 
 amongst the Indiani in the Far West and the North.* I was much amused 
 with the excessive vanity and egotism of this notorious man, who, whilst 
 sitting for his picture, took occasion to have the interpreter constantly ex- 
 plaining to me the wonderful effects which his oratory had at different times 
 produced on the minds of the chiefs and people of his tribe. 
 
 warriors immediately mounted their horses, and retraced the animal's tracks to the place 
 of the tragedy, where they found the hody of their chief horribly mangled and gored by 
 a buffalo bull, whose carcass was stretched by the side of him. 
 
 " A close examination of the ground was then made bv the Indians, who ascertained 
 by the tracks, that their unfortunate chief, under his unlucky resolve, had met a buffalo 
 bull in the season when they are very stubborn, and unwilling to run from any one ; and 
 had incensed the animal by shooting a number of arrows into him, which had brouglit 
 him into furious combat. The chief had then dismounted, and turned his horse loose, 
 having given it a couple of arrows from his bow, which sent it home at full speed, 
 and then had thrown away his bow and quiver, encountering the infuriated animal with 
 his knife alone, and the desperate battle resulted as I have before-mentioned, in the death 
 of both. Many of the bones of the chief were broken, as he was gored and stamped to 
 death, and his huge antagonist had laid his body by the side of him, weltering in blood 
 trom an hundred wounds made by the chiefs long and two-edged knife." 
 
 So died this elegant and high-minded nobleman of the wilderness, whom I confidently 
 had hoped to meet and admire again at some future period of my life. (Vide plate 86). 
 
 • Wampum is the Indian name of ornaments manufactured by the Indians from vari- 
 ooloured shellii, which they get on the shores of the fresh water streams, and file or cut 
 
 :s^.^^ 
 
61 
 
 ■^' . 
 
 Culitk. 
 
 91 
 
 i 
 
 
 • -i 
 
i 
 
 I 
 
62 
 
 92 
 
 93 
 
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 m 
 
 
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 *ii( 
 
 94 
 
 96 
 
 G-. Cailin.. 
 
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 nl' 
 
 11 
 
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 11 
 
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223 
 
 He told nic, that it was a very easy thing for liim to set all the women of 
 the tribe to crying : and that all the chiefs listened profoundly to his voice 
 before they went to war ; and at last, summed up by saying, that he wag 
 " the greatest orator in the Sioux nation," by which he undoubtedly meant 
 the greatest in the world. 
 
 Besides these dislinguis of this great and powerful tribe, I painted in re- 
 gular succession, according to their rank and standing, Wan-ee-ton, chief 
 of the Susseton hand; Tah-zee-kah-da-cha (the torn belly), a brave of the 
 Yancton band; Ka-pes-ka-day (the shell), a brave of the 0-gla-la band; 
 Wuk-mi-ser (corn), a warrior of the Nee-cow-ee-gee band ; Cha-tee-wah- 
 nee-chee (no heart), chief of the WaA-nee-wa<cA-^o-jiec-iaA6anrf; Mah-to-ra- 
 rish-nee-eeh-ee-rah (the grizzly bear that runs without regard), a brave of 
 the Onc-pa-pa band; Mah-to-chee-ga (the little bear), a distinguished 
 brave ; Shon-ka (the dog), chief of the Ca-za-zhee-ta (bad arrow points) 
 band; Tah-teck-a-da-hair (the steep wind), a brave of the same band; 
 Hah-ha-ra-pah (the elk's head), chief of the Ee-ta-sip-shov band; Mah-to- 
 een-nah-pa (the white bear that goes out), chief of the Blackfoot Sioux 
 band ; Shon-ga-ton-ga-chesh-en-day (the horse dung), chief of a band, a 
 great conjuror and magician. 
 
 Ths portraits of all the above dignitaries can be always seen, as large as 
 life, in my very numerous Collection, provided I get them safe home ; and 
 also the portraits of two very pretty Sioux women (plate 94). Wi-looh- 
 tah-eeh-tchah-ta-mah-nee (the red thing that touches in marching), and 
 (^PLATE 95), Tchon-su-mons-ka (the sand bar). The first of these women 
 
 into bits of half an inch, or an inch in length, and perforate (giving to them the shape of 
 pieces of broken pipe stems), which they string on deers' sinews, and wear on their necks 
 in profusion ; or weave them 'igeniously into war-belts for the waist. 
 
 Amongst the numerous tribes who have formerly inhabited the Atlantic Coast, and 
 that part of the country which now constitutes the principal part of the United States, 
 wampum has been invariably manufactured, and highly valued as a circulating medium 
 (instead of coins, of which the Indians have no knowledge); so many strings, or so many 
 hands-breadth, being the fixed value of ahorse, a gun, a robe, &c. 
 
 In treaties, the wampum belt has been passed as the pledge of friendship, and from time 
 immemorial sent to hostile tribes, as the messenger of peace ; or paid by so many fathoms 
 length, as tribute to conquering enemies, and Indian kings. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact, and worthy of observation in this place, that after I passed the 
 Mississippi, I saw but very little wampum used ; and on ascending the Missouri, I do 
 not recollect to have seen it wnru at all by the Upper Missouri Indians, although the 
 same materials for its manufacture are found in abundance through those regions. I met 
 with but very few strings of it amongst the Missouri Sioux, and nothing of it amongst 
 the tribes north and west of them. Below the Sioux, and along the whole of oar 
 Western frontier, the different tribes are found loaded end beautifully ornamented with 
 it, which they can now afford to do, for they consider it of little value, as the Fur Traders 
 have ingeniously introduced a spurious imitation of iv, manufactured by steam or othei^ 
 wise, of porcelain or some composition closely resembling it, with which they have 
 Hooded the whole Indian country, and sold at so reduced a price, as to cheapen, and 
 consequently destroy, the value and meaning of the original wampum, a string of which 
 can now but very rarely be found in any part of the country. 
 
224 
 
 «; : 
 
 (I'LATE 9'.k, is the daughter of the famous chief calleil Black Rock, of 
 whom I hai'e spoken, and whose portrait has been given (plate 91). She 
 is an unmarried girl, and much esteemed by the whole tribe, for her modesty, 
 as well as beauty. She was beautifully dressed in skins, ornamented pro* 
 fusely with brass buttons and beads. Her hair was plaited, her ears sup- 
 ported a great profusion of curious beads — and over her other dress she 
 wore a handsomely garnished buffalo robe. 
 
 S*^ highly w i fht Black Rock esteemed (as I have before mentionod), 
 and i.'M be" . ui daughter admired and respected by the Traders, that Mr. 
 M'Ki' ' ■ ./jl'^yed me to make him copies of their two portraits, which he 
 has hi' r "V ' Mr. Laidlaw's trading-house, as valued ornaments and 
 keepsake. 
 
 The second of uieS' women (plate 95) was very richly dressed, the 
 upper part of her garment being almost literally covered with brass but- 
 tons ; and her hair, which was inimitably beautiful and soft, and glossy as 
 silk, fell over her shoulders in great profusion, and in beautiful waves, pro- 
 duced by the condition in which it is generally kept in braids, giving to it, 
 when combed out, a waving form, adding much to its native appearance, 
 which is invariably straight and graceless. 
 
 This woman is at present the wife of a white man by the name of Char- 
 don, a Frenchman, who has been many years in the employment of the 
 American Fur Cof"pf'.ny, in the character of a Trader and Interpreter ; and 
 who by his bold - nd daring nature, has not only carried dread and conster- 
 nation amongst the Indian tribes wherever he has gone ; but has commanded 
 much respect, and rendered essential service to the Company in the prose- 
 cution of their dangerous and critical dealings with the Indian tribes. I 
 have said something of this extraordinary man heretofore, and shall take 
 future occasion to say more of him. For the present, suffice it to say, that 
 
 • Several years after I left the Sioux country, I saw Messrs. Chardon and Piquot, two 
 of the Traders from that country, who recently had left it, and told me in St. Louis, whilst 
 looking at the portrait of this girl, that while staying in Mr. Laidlaw's Fort, the chief, 
 Black Rock, entered the room suddenly where the portrait of his daughter was hanging 
 an the wall, and pointing to it with a heavy heart, told Mr Laidlaw, that whilst his 
 band was out on the prairies, where they had been for several months " making meat," 
 his daughter had died, and was there buried. " My heart is glad again," said he, 
 " when I bee her here alive ; and I want the one the medicine-man made of her, which 
 is now before me, that I can see her, and talk to her. My band are all in mourning for 
 ber, and at the gate of your Fort, which I have just passed, are ten horses for you, and 
 £e-ah-sa-pa's wigwam, which you know is the best one in the Sioux nation. I wish you 
 to take down my daughter and give her to me." Mr. Laidlaw, seeing the unusually 
 liberal price that this nobleman was willing to pay for a portrait, and the true grief that 
 he expressed for the loss of his child, had not the heart to abuse such noble feeling ; 
 and taking ihe painting from the wall, placed it into his hands ; telling him that it of 
 right belonged to him, (\nd that his horses and ivigwam he must take back and keep them, 
 to mend, as far as possible, bis liberal heart, which was broken by the loss of his only 
 daughter. 
 
236 
 
 although from his continual intercourse with the different tribes for twenty- 
 five or thirty years, where he had always been put forward in the front 
 of danger — sent as a sacrifice, or forlorn hope; still iiis cut and hacked 
 limbs have withstood all the blows that have been aimed at them ; and 
 his unfaltering courage leads him to " beard the lion in his den," whilst 
 his liberal heart, as it always has, deals out to his friends (and even to stran- 
 gers, if friends are not by) all the dear earnings which are continually 
 bought with severest toil, anil at the hazard of his life. 
 
 I acknowledge myself a debtor to this good hearted fellow for much kind- 
 ness and attention to me whilst in the Indian country, and also for a superb 
 dress and robe, which had been manufactured and worn by his wife, and 
 which he insisted on adding to my Indian GALLEav since her death, wliere 
 it will long remain to be examined.* 
 
 • Several years since writing the above, I made a visit with my witi.-. to ' venerable 
 parent of Mr. Cbardon, who lives in her snug and neat mansion, ne the * of Phila- 
 delphia, where we were treated with genuino politeness and hospi: no IL;. mother and 
 two sisters, who are highly respectable, had many anxious qaes' U ask about him ; 
 
 and had at the same time, living with them, a fine-looking half-breed • , about ten years 
 old, the son of Monsr. Chardon and his Indian wife, whom 1 have ibovJ spoken of. 
 This fine boy who had received the name of Bolivar, had beei rought from the Indian 
 country by the father, and left here for his education, with whi ' ', were taking greit 
 poias. 
 
 ; ti 
 
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 '4:' 
 
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»:>() 
 
 LETTER— No. 28. 
 
 MOUTH OF TETON RIVER. ITPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Whilst painting the portraits of the cliiefs and braves of the Sioux, a» 
 described in my last epistle, my painting-room was tlie continual rendo/vous 
 of the worthies of the tribe ; and I, tlie " lion of the day," and my art, the 
 snuDnum and ?)e plus ultra of mysteries, whiih engaged the whole conver- 
 sation of chiefs and sachems, as well as of women and children. I men- 
 tioned that I have been obliged to paint them according to rank, as they 
 looked upon the operation as a very great honour, which I, as •' a great 
 chief and medicine-man," was conferring on all who sat to me. Fortunate 
 it was for me, however, that the honour was not a sufficient inducement for 
 all to overcome their fears, which often stood in the way of their consenting- 
 to be painted ; for if ail had been willing to undergo the operation, I 
 should have progressed but a very little way in the " ratik andjile" of their 
 worthies; and should have had to leave many discontented, and (as they 
 would think) neglected. About one in five or eight was willing to be 
 painted, and the rest thought they would be much more sure of '* sleeping 
 quiet in their graves" after they were dead, if thei'- pictures were not made. 
 By this lucky difficulty J. got great relief, and easily got through with those 
 who were willing, and at the same time decided by the chiefs to be worthy, 
 of so signal an honour. 
 
 After I had done with the chiefs and braves, and proposed to paint a 
 few of the women, I at once got myself into a serious perplexity, being 
 heartily laughed at by the whole tr'be, both by men and by women, lor 
 my exceeding and (to them) unaccountable condescension in seriously 
 proposing to paint a woman ; conferring on her the same honour that I had 
 done the chiefs and braves. Those whom I had honoured, were laughed at 
 by hundreds of the jealous, who had been decided unworthy the distinction, 
 and were now amusing themselves with the very enviable honour which the 
 great white medicine-man had conferred, especially on them, and was now 
 to confer equally upon the squaws ! 
 
 The first reply that I received from those whom I had painted, was, that 
 if I waa to paint women and children, the sooner I destroyed their pictures, 
 the better ; for I had represented to them that I wanted their pictures to 
 exhibit to white chiefs, to shew who were the most distinguished and worthy 
 of the Sioux ; and their women had never taken scalps, nor did anything 
 
2.27 
 
 better tliaii make fires anil dress ^kins. I was quite awkward in this diltni- 
 inu, ill explaining to them that I wanted tiie portraits of the women to 
 liaiip^Mm/cr those of their husbands, merely to shew how tlieir women lonkid, 
 and how they dressed, without saying any more of tliem. After some con- 
 siderable delay of my operations, and much deliberation on the sulijt.et, 
 fiiroiigh the village, I succeeded in getting a number of women's portraits, 
 of which the two above introduced are a couple. 
 
 The vanity of these men, after they had agreed to be painted was beyond 
 all description, and far surpassing that which is oftentimes immodest enough 
 in civilized society, where the sitter generally leaves the picture, when it is 
 done to speak for, and to take care of, itself; while an Indian often lays 
 down, from morning till night, in front of his portrait, .jdmiring his own 
 beautiful face, and faithfully guarding it from day to day, to save it from 
 accident or harm. 
 
 This watching or guarding their portraits, I have observed during all of 
 my travels amongst them as a very curious thing ; and in many instances, 
 where my colours were not dry, and subjected to so many accidents, from 
 the crowds who were gathering about them, I have found this peculiar guar- 
 dianship of essential service to me — relieving my mind oftentimes from a 
 great deal of anxiety. 
 
 I was for a long time at a loss for the true cause of so singular a pecu- 
 liarity, but at last learned that it was owing to their superstitions notion, that 
 there may be life to a certain extent in the picture ; and that if harm or 
 violence be done to it, it may in some mysterious way, atl'ec , their health 
 or do them other injury. 
 
 After I had been several weeks busily at work with my brush in tliis 
 village, and pretty well used to the modes of life in these regions — and also 
 familiarly acquainted with all the officers and clerks of the Establishment, it 
 was announced one day, that the steamer which we had left, was coming in 
 the river below, where all eyes were anxiously turned, and all ears were 
 listening ; when, at length, we discovered the puffing of her steam ; and, at 
 last, heard the thundering of her cannon, which were firing from her deck. 
 
 The excitement and dismay caused amongst GOOO of tiiose wild people, 
 when the steamer came up in front of their village, was amusing in the 
 extreme. The steamer was moored at the shore, however; and when Mr. 
 Chouteau and Major Sanford, their old friend and agent, walked ashore, 
 it seemed to restore their conl-Jence and courage; and the whole village 
 gathered in front of the boat, without showing much further amazement, or 
 even curiosity about it. 
 
 The steamer rested a week or two at this place before she started on her 
 voyage for the head-waters of the Missouri; during which time, there was 
 much hilarity and mirth indulged in amongst the Indians, as well as with 
 the hands employed in the service of the Fur Company. The appearance 
 of a steamer in this wild country was deemed a wonderful of rurrence, and 
 
 
t 
 
 I 
 
 228 
 
 the time of her presence liere, looked upon, ami used an n liolidny. Some 
 •liurp eiicoimU'is amongst the trappers, who come in here from liie nioun- 
 iaina, loaded with packs of furs, with sinews hardened by long exposure, 
 and seemingly impatient for a /i;/ltt, which is soon given them by some 
 bullying fisticufl-fellow, who steps forward and settles the matter in » 
 ring, which is made and strictly preserved i'or fair play, untW hard raps, and 
 bloody noses, and blind eyes " settle the hash," and satisfy his trapper- 
 ship to lay in bed a week or two, and then graduate, a sober and a civil 
 man. 
 
 Amongst the Indians we have had numerous sights and amusements to 
 entertain and some to shock us. Shows of dances — ball-plays — horse- 
 racing — foot-racing, and wrestling in abundance. Feasting — fasting, and 
 prayers wc have also had ; and penance and tortures, and almost every 
 thing short of self-immolation. 
 
 Some few days after the steamer had arrived, it was announced that a 
 grand feast was to be given to the great white chiefs, who were visitors 
 amongst them ; and preparations were made accordingly for it. The two 
 chiefs, Ha-wan-je-tah and Tchan-dee, of whom I have before spoken, 
 brought their two tents together, forming the two into a semi-circle (platb 
 96), enclosing a space sufficiently large to accommodate 150 men ; and sat 
 down with that number of the principal chiefs and warriors of the Sioux 
 nation ; with Mr. Chouteau, Major Sanford, the Indian agent. Mi'. 
 M'Kenzie, and myself, whom they had invited in due time, and placed on 
 elevated seats in the centre of the crescent ; while the rest of the company 
 all sat upon the ground, and mostly cross-legged, preparatory to the feast 
 being dealt out. 
 
 In the centre of the semi-circle was erected a flag-staflF, on which waa 
 waving a white flag, and to which also was tied the calumet, both expres- 
 sive of their friendly feelings towards us. Near the foot of the flag-staff 
 were placed in a row on the ground, six or eight kettles, with iron covers on 
 them, shutting them tight, in which were prepared the viands for our volup- 
 tuous feast. Near the kettles, and on the ground also, bottomside upwards, 
 were a number of wooden bowls, in which the meat was to be served out. 
 And in front, two or three men, who were there placed as waiters, to light 
 the pipes for smoking, and also to deal out the food. 
 
 In these positions things stood, and all sat, with thousands climbing and 
 crowding around, for a peep at the grand pageant; when at length, Ha- 
 wan-je-tah (the one horn), head chief of the nation, rose in front of the 
 Indian agent, in a very handsome costume, and addressed him thus : — 
 •' My father, I am glad to see you here to-day — my heart is always glad to 
 see my father when he comes — our Great Father, who sends him here is very 
 rich, and we arc poor. Our friend Mr. M'Kenzie, who is here, we are also 
 glad to see; we know him well, and we shall be sorry when he is gone 
 Our friend who is on your right-hand we all know is very rich ; and we 
 
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229 
 
 liave heard that he owns the great meaicinti-canoe ; he is a good man, and 
 a friend to the red men. Our friend the Jf^hite Medicine, who sits with 
 you, we did not know — he came amongst us a stranger, anJ he has made 
 me very well — all the women know it, and think it very good ; he has done 
 many curious things, and we have all been pleased with him — he has made 
 us mucii amusement — and we know he is great medicine. 
 
 " My father, I hope you will have pity on us, we are very poor — we offer 
 you to-day, not the best that we have got ; for we have a plenty of good 
 buffalo hump and marrow — but we give you our hearts in this feast — we 
 have killed our faithful dogs to feed you — and the Great Spirit will seal our 
 friendship. I have no more to say." 
 
 After these words he took off his beautiful war-eagle head-dress — his shirt 
 and leggings — his necklace of grizzly bears' claws and his moccasins ; and 
 tying them together, laid them gracefully down at the feet ol the agent 
 as a present ; and laying a handsome pipe on top of them, he walked 
 around into an adjoining lodge, where he got a buffalo robe to cover his 
 shoulders, and returned to the feast, taking his seat which he had before 
 occupied. 
 
 Major Sanford then rose and made a short speech in reply, thanking him 
 for the valuable present which he had made him, and for the very polite 
 and impressive manner in which it had been done ; and sent to the steamer 
 for a quantity of tobacco and other presents, which were given to him in 
 return. Alter this, and after several others of the chiefs had addressed him 
 in a similar manner ; and, like the first, disrobed themselves, and thrown 
 their beautiful costumes at his feet, one of the three men in front deliber- 
 ately lit a handsome pipe, and brought it to Ha-wan-je-tah to smoke. lie 
 took it, and after presenting tiie stem to the North— to the South — to the 
 East, and the West — and then to the Sun that was over his head, and pro- 
 nounced the words "How — how— how!" drew a whiff or two of smoke 
 through it, and holding the bowl of it in one hand, and its stem in the other, 
 he then held it to each of our mouths, as we successively smoked it ; aftc 
 which it was passed around through the whole group, who all smoked 
 through it, or as far as its contents lasted, when another of the three waiters 
 was ready with a second, and at length a third one, in the same way, which 
 lasted through the hands of the whole number of guests. This smoking was 
 conducted with the strictest adherence to exact and established form, and 
 the feast the whole way, to the most positive silence. After the pipe is 
 charged, and is being lit, until the time that the chief has drawn the smoke 
 through it, it is considered an evil omen for any one to speak ; and if any 
 one break silence iu that time, even in a whisper, the pipe is instant y drop- 
 ped by the chief, and their superstition is such, that they would no' dare to 
 use it on this occasion ; but another one is called for and used in ts stead. 
 If there is no accident of the kind during the smoking, the v, alters then pro- 
 ceed to distribute the meat, which is soon devoured in the least. 
 
230 
 
 In .his case the lids were raised from the kettles, which were all filled 
 v'ith dogs' meat alone. It being well-cooked, and made into a sort of a 
 stew, sent forth a very savoury and pleasing smell, promising to be ai\ ac- 
 ceptable and palatable food. Each of us civilized guests had a large 
 wooden bowl placed before us, with a huge (juantity of dogs' flesh floating 
 in a profusion of soup, or rich gravy, with a large spoon resting in the dish, 
 made of the buffalo's horn. In this most difficult and painful dilemma we 
 pat ; all of us knowing the solemnity and good feeling in which it was given, 
 and the absolute necessity of falling to, and devouring a little of it. We 
 all tasted it a few times, and resigned our dishes, which were quite willingly 
 taken, and passed around with others, to every part of the group, who all 
 ate heartily of the delicious viands, which were soon dipped out of the 
 kettles, and entirely devoured ; after which each one arose as he felt dis- 
 posed, and walked ofT without uttering a word. In this way the feast ended, 
 and all retired silently, and gradually, until the ground was left vacant to 
 the charge of the waiters or officers, who seemed to have charge of it during 
 the whole occasion. 
 
 This feast was unquestionably given to us, as the most undoubted evi- 
 dence they could give us of their friendship ; and we, who knew the spirit 
 and feeling in which it was given, could not but treat it respectfully, and 
 receive it as a very high and marked compliment. 
 
 Since I witnessed it on this occasion, I have been honoured with numer- 
 ous entertainments of the kind amongst the other tribes, which I have visited 
 towards the sources of the Missouri, and all conducted in the same solemn 
 and impressive manner ; froni which I feel authorized to pronounce the doy- 
 feast a truly religious ceremony, wherein the poor Indian sees fit to sacrifice 
 his faithful companion to bear testimony to the sacredi.^ss of his vows of 
 friendship, and invite his friend to partake of its flesh, to remind him for- 
 cibly of tiie reality of the sacrifice, and the solemnity of his professions. 
 
 The dog, amongst all Indi;in tribes, is more esteemed and more valued than 
 amongst any part of the civilized world ; the Indian who has more time to 
 devote to his company, and whose untutored mind more nearly assimilates 
 to that of his faithful servant, keeps him closer company, and draws him 
 nearer to his heart ; they hunt together, and are equal sharers in the chase — 
 their bed is one ; and on the rocks, and on their coats of arms they carve 
 his image as tlie symbol of fidelity. Yet, with alt of these he will end his 
 affection with this faithful follower, and with tears in his eyes, offer him as a 
 sacrifice to seal the pledge he lias made to man ; because a feast of venison, 
 or of buflfdlo meat, is what is due to every one wlio enters an Indian's wig- 
 wam; and of course, conveys but a passive or neutral evidence, that gene- 
 rally goes for nothing. 
 
 I have sac at ni^my of tlicse feasts, and never could but appreciate the 
 moral and solemnity of them. I have seen the master take from the bowl 
 the liead of hi.> victim, and descant on its fm^nier afl'eclion and fiilelity with 
 
ere all filled 
 
 a sort of a 
 
 to be an ac- 
 
 liad a large 
 
 flesh floating 
 
 g in the dish, 
 
 dilemma we 
 
 it was given, 
 
 e of it. We 
 
 uite willingly 
 
 oup, who all 
 
 d out of the 
 
 he felt dis- 
 
 3 feast ended, 
 
 left vacant to 
 
 e of it during 
 
 doubted evi- 
 new the spirit 
 DectfuUy, and 
 
 with numer- 
 I have visited 
 
 same solemn 
 unce the doy- 
 fit to saoriKce 
 f his vows of 
 nind him for- 
 afessions. 
 e valued than 
 
 more time to 
 "iy assimilates 
 id draws him 
 1 the chase — 
 lis they carve 
 3 will end his 
 offer him as a 
 St of venison, 
 Indian's wig- 
 :e, that gene- 
 
 ippreciatc the 
 
 Vom the howl 
 
 fidelity with 
 
 231 
 
 fears in his eyes. And I have seen guests at the same time by the side of 
 me, jesting and sneering at the poor Indian's folly and stupidity ; and 1 
 have said in my heart, that they never deserved a name so good or so 
 honourable as that of the poor animal whose bones they were picking. 
 
 At the feast which I have been above describing, each of us tasted a little 
 of the meat, and passed the dishes on to the Indians, who soon demolished 
 everything they contained. We all agreed that the meat was well cooked, 
 and seemed to be a well-flavoured and palatable food ; and no doubt, could 
 have been eaten with a good relish, if we had been hungry, and ignorant of 
 the nature of the food we were eating. 
 
 The flesh of these dogs, though apparently relished by the Indians, is, 
 undoubtedly, inferior to the venison and buffalo's meat, of which feasts are 
 constantly made where friends are invited, as they are in civilized society, to 
 a pleasant and convivial party ; from which fact alone, it would seem clear, 
 that they have some extraordinary motive, at all events, for feasting on the 
 flesh of that useful and faithful animal ; even when, as in the instance 1 
 have been describing, their village is well supplied with fresh and dried meat 
 of the buffalo. The dog-feast is given, I believe, by all tribes in North 
 America ; and by them all, 1 think, this faithful animal, as well as the 
 horse, is sacrificed in several different ways, to appease offended Spirits or 
 Deities, whom it is considered necessary that they should conciliate in this 
 way ; and when done, is invariably done by giving the best in the henl or 
 the kennel. 
 
 i It 
 
232 
 
 \ v\ 
 
 LETTER— No. 29. 
 
 MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Another curious and disgusting scene I witnessed in the after part o. 
 the day on which we were honoured with the dog feast. In this I took no 
 part, but was snfBciently near to it, when standing some rods ■■jti, and wit- 
 nessing the cruel uperation. I was called upon by one of the clerks in the 
 Establishment to ride up a mile or so, near the banks of trie Teion River, in 
 a little plain at tlie base of the blufts, where were grouped some fifteen or 
 twenty lodges of the Ting-ta-to-ah band, to see a man (as they said) " look- 
 ing at the sun!" Wc found him naked, except his breech-doth, with 
 splints or skewers run through the flesh on both breasts, leaninp; back and 
 hanging with the weight of his body to the top of a pole vhich >vaS) fastened 
 ill the grour '.1, and to the upper end of which he was fastened by a cord whicli 
 was tied to the splints. In this position he was leaning bark, with nearly the 
 whole weight of his body hanging to the pole, the top of which was bent for- 
 ward, allowing his body to sink abi)ut half-way to the ground (plate 97). His 
 feet were still upoii the grouiid, supporting a small part of hia weight ; and he 
 held in his left hand his favourite bow, and in his right, with a desperate grip, 
 his medicine-bag. In this condition, with the blood trickling down over his 
 body, which was coveud with wh'te and yellow clay, and amidst a great 
 crowd who were looking on. - ;i .'thizing with and encouraging him, he 
 was hanging and '' looking vj x\vi tiu;," without paying the least attention to 
 any one about him. In the group that was reclining around him, were seve- 
 ral mystery-men beating their drums and shaking their rattles, and singing 
 as loud as they could yell, to encourage him and strengthen his heart to 
 stand and look at the sun, from its rising in the morning 'till its setting at 
 night; at which time, if his heart and his strength have not failed him, he is 
 "• cut down," receives the liberal donation of presents (which have been 
 thrown into a pile before him during the day), and also the name and the 
 style of a doctor, or medicine -man, which lasts him, and ensures him respect, 
 through life. 
 
 This most extraordinary ami cruel custom I never heard of amongst any 
 other tribe, and never saw an instance of it before or after the one I have 
 just named. It is a sort of worship, or penance, of great cruelty ; disgust- 
 ing and painful to behold, with only one palliating circumstance about if, 
 which is, that it is a volutilary torture and of very rare occurrence, The 
 
 I, ! 
 
233 
 
 poor and ignorant, misguided and superstitious man who undertakes it, pula 
 his everlasting reputation at stake upon the issue ; for when he takes his stand, 
 he expects to face the sun and gradually turn his body in listless silence, till 
 he sees it go down at night ; and if he faints and falls, of wh'oh there is im- 
 minent danger, he loses his reputation as a brave or n;ystery-man, and suffers 
 a signal disgrace in the estimation of tiie tribe, like all men who have the 
 presumption to set themselves up for braves or mystery-men, and fail justly 
 to sustain the character. 
 
 The Sioux seem to have many modes of worshipping the Great or Good 
 Spirit, and also of conciliating the Evil Spirit : they have numerous fasts 
 and feasts, and many modes of sacrificing, but yet they seem to pay less 
 strict attention to them than the Mandans do, which may perhaps be owing 
 in a great measure to the wandering and predatory modes of life which tiiey 
 pursue, rendering it difficult to adhere so rigidly to the strict form and letter 
 of 'heir customs. 
 
 There had been, a few days before I arrived at this pla^e, a great medicine 
 operation held on the prairie, a mile or so back of the Fort, and whicii, of 
 course, I was not lucky enough to see. The poles were still standing, and 
 the whole transaction was described to me by my friend Mr. Halsey, one of 
 the clerks in the Establishment. From the account given of it, it seems to 
 bear some slight resemblance to tliat of the Mandan religious ceremony, but 
 no near r to it than a feeble effort by so ignorant and superstitious a people, 
 to copy a custom which they most probably have had no opportunity to see 
 themselves, but have endeavoured to imitate from hearsay. They had an 
 awning of immense size erected on the prairie which is yet standing, made 
 of willow bushes supported by posts, with poles and willow boughs laid over; 
 under the centre of which there was a pole set firmly in the ground, from 
 which many of the young men had suspended their bodies by splints 
 run through the flesh in different part'j, the numerous scars of which were 
 yet seen bleeding afresh from day to day, amongst the crowds that were 
 about me. 
 
 During my stay amongst the Sioux, as I was considered by thciii to i: j 
 great medicine, I received many pipes and other little thii' - from them a.i 
 presents, given to me in token of respect '"or me, a'.d as urances of their 
 friendship ; and I, being desirous to collec* and bring iioni their country 
 every variety of their manufactures, of thoir costumes, tlicir weapons, their 
 pipes, and their mystery-things, purch.ased a great many others, for which, 
 as I was " medicine" and a " great white chief!" I was necessarily obliged 
 to pay very liberal prices. 
 
 Of the various costumes (of this, as well as of othei tribes), that I have col- 
 lected, there will be seen fair and faithful representations in the numerous 
 portraits ; and of their war-clubs, pipes, &c. I have set forth in the follow- 
 ing illustrations, a few of the most interesting of the very great numbers of 
 those things which I have collected in this and other tribes which I have visited. 
 
 VOL. I. II H 
 
 M?:ft - 
 
 I 
 
234 
 
 
 f,H 
 
 The lujfury of smoking is known to all the Noith American Indians, 
 in their p/imitivc state, and that before they have any knowledge of to- 
 bacco ; V hich is only introduced amongst them by civilized adventurers, 
 who teai l\ them ihe use and luxury of whiskey at the same time. 
 
 In thjir native state thoy are excessive smokers, and many of them 
 (I wou.d almost venture the assertion), would seem to bo smoking one- 
 half oi' their lives. There may be two good reasons for this, the first of 
 which is, that the idle arid leisure life that the Indian leads, (who has 
 no trade or business to follow — no office hours (o attend to, or profes- 
 sior. to learn), induces him to look for occupation and amusement in so 
 innocent a luxury, which again further tempts )iim to its excessive use, 
 from its feeble and harmless eflPccts on the system. There are many weeds 
 and leaves, and barks of trees, v/hich are narcotics, and of spontaneous 
 growth in their countries, which the Indians dry aiul pidverize, and carry 
 m pouches an;' smoke to great excess — and which in several of the lan- 
 guages, when thus prepared, is called k'nick k'ticck. 
 
 As smoking is a luxury so highly valued by the Indians, they have 
 bestowed much pains, and not a little ingenuity, to the construction of 
 their pipes. Of these I have procured a collection of several hundreds, 
 and in platk 98, have given fac-simile outlines of a number of the 
 most curious. The bowls of these are generally made of the red steatite, 
 or " pipe-stone" (as it is more familiarly called in this comitry), and many 
 of them desigred and carved wi '\ much taste and skill, with figures and 
 gf'Mips in alto relievo, staiiding or reclining upon them. 
 
 The red stone of which these pipe bowls are made, is, in my estima- 
 tion, a great curiosity ; inasmuch as I am sure it is a variety oi steatite 
 (if it be steatite), differing from that of any known European locality, 
 and also from ai y locality known in America, other than the one from 
 which all these pipes come ; and which are ail traceable I have found 
 to one aource ; and that source as yet unvisited except by the red man 
 who describes it, everywhere, as a place of vast importance to the Indians 
 — as given to them by the Great Spirit, for their pipes, and strictly for- 
 bidden lo be used for anything else. 
 
 The source from whence all these pipes come, is, undoubtedly, somewhere 
 between this place and the Mississippi River; and as the Indians all speak 
 of li -as a great »jedici?ie-place, I shall certainly lay my course to it, ere 
 long, ui d be able to give the world some account of it and its mysteries. 
 
 The li.dians shape out the bowls of these pipes from the solid stone, 
 which is f.ot quite as hard as marble, with nothing but a knife. The 
 stone whiei) is of a cherry red, admits of a beautiful polish, and the 
 Indirtit maivss the hole in the bowl of the pipe, by drilling into it a hard 
 stick, shaped to the desired size, with a quantity of sharp sand and water 
 kep constantly in the hole, subjecting him therefore to a very great labour 
 and thfi liecessitv of much natience 
 
 im 
 
in Iniiians, 
 edge of to- 
 ld ventiiiers, 
 
 time. 
 
 ly of them 
 
 loking one- 
 
 the first of 
 I, (who has 
 
 or profes- 
 
 ment in so 
 cessivc use, 
 many weeds 
 spontaneous 
 ;, and carry 
 
 of the lan- 
 
 , they have 
 ist ruction of 
 il hundreds, 
 iber of the 
 red steatite, 
 ), and many 
 figures and 
 
 my cstirna- 
 y 01 steatite 
 ean locality, 
 he one from 
 
 have found 
 he red man 
 ) the Indians 
 I strictly for- 
 
 y, somewhere 
 ans all speak 
 rse to it, ere 
 mysteries. 
 ; solid stone, 
 
 knife. Tiie 
 ish, and the 
 nto it a hard 
 nd and water 
 
 great labour 
 
 ,; I 
 
 
 3lf[j^ 
 
 \n?.^^^-- 
 
 ^T^fl^lSlMHl!^ 
 
 
 
 
 ^1 
 
 m^ 
 
 m 
 
 !)8 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 
 ■ 
 
 m 
 
'■ M^' 
 
The shafts or stems of these pipes, as will bo seen in pi.atk 98, are Irom 
 two to four feet long, sometimes round, but most generally Hat; of an inch 
 or two in breadth, and wound half their length or more with braids of por- 
 cupines' quills ; and often ornamented with the beaks and tufts from the 
 wood-pecker's head, with ermine skins and long red hair, dyed from white 
 horse hair or the white buffalo's tail. 
 
 The stems of these pipes will be found to be carved in many ingenious 
 forms, and in all cases they are perforated tlirou;;;li the centre, ([uite stagger- 
 ing the wits of the enlightened world to yuess hou the holes have been bored 
 through them ; until it is simply and briefly ex|)lained, that the stems are 
 uniformly made of the stalk of the young ash, which generally grows straight, 
 and has a small pith through the centre, whtcii is easily burned out with a hot 
 wire or a piece of hard wood, by a much slower process. 
 
 In PLATE 9S, the pipes marked b are ordinary pipes, made and used 
 for the luxury only of smoking; and for this purpose, every Indian designs 
 and constructs his own pipe. The calumet, or pipe of peace (plate 98 a), 
 ornamented with the war-eagle's quills, is a sacred pipe, and never allowed 
 to be used on ly other occasion than that of peace- niahiny ; when the 
 chief brings it into treaty, and unfolding the many bandages which are 
 carefully kept around it — has it ready to be mutually smoked by the chiefs, 
 after the terms of the treaty are agreed upon, as the means of solemnizing 
 or signimj, by an illiterate people, who cannot draw up an instrument, and 
 sign their names to it, as it i's done in the civilized world. 
 
 The mode of solemnizing is by jiussing the sacred stem to each chief, 
 who draws one breath of smoke only through it, thereby passing the most 
 inviolable pledge that they can possibly give, for the keeping of the peace. 
 This sacred pipe is then carefidly folded up, and stowed away in the chief's 
 lodge, until a similar occasion calls it out to be used in a similar manner. 
 
 There is no custom more uniformly in constant use amongst the |K)or 
 Indians than that of smoking, nur any other more highly valued. His pipe 
 is his constant companion through life — his messenger of peace ; he pledges 
 his friends through its stem and its bowl — and when its care-drowning fumes 
 cease to flow, it takes a place with him in his solitary grave, with his toma- 
 hawk and war-club, companions to his long fancied, " mild and beautiful 
 hunting-grounds." 
 
 The weapons of these people, like their pipes, are numerous, and mostly 
 manufactured by themselves. In a former place (plate 18) I have de- 
 scribed a part of these, such as the bows and arrows, lances, ike, and they 
 have yet mapy others, specimens of which I have collected from every tribe; 
 and a number of which 1 have grouped together in plate 99 ; consistii.g of 
 knives, war-clubs, and tomahawks. I have here introduced the most gc ic- 
 ral and established forms that are in use amongst the rliff'erent tribes, which 
 are all strictly copied from amongst the great variety of these articles to be 
 found in my Collection. 
 
,.( '. 
 
 23fi 
 
 !*i 
 
 Tlie scalping-knives a and b, and tonialiawks e e e e are of civilizeil 
 manufacture, made expressly fur Indian use, and carried into the Indiuii 
 country by thousrinds and tens of thousands, and sold at an enormous price. 
 The scabbards of the knives and handles for the tomahawks, the Indiana 
 construct themselves, according to their own taste, and oftentimes ornament 
 them very handsomely. In his rude and unapproached condition, the In- 
 tlian is a stranger to such weapons as these — he works not in the metals ; 
 and his untutored mind has not been ingenious enough to design or execute 
 anything so savage or destructive as these civilized refinements on Indian 
 barbarity. In his native simplicity he shapes out his rude hatchet from a 
 piece of stone, as in letter /, heads his arrows and spears with flints ; and 
 his knife is a sharpened bone, or the edge of a broken silex. The war-club 
 c is also another civilized refinement, with a blade of steel, of eight or ten 
 inches in length, and set in a club, studded around and ornamented with 
 some hundreds of brass nails. 
 
 Their primitive clubs d are curiously carved in wood, and fashioned out 
 with some considerable picturesque form and grace ; are admirably fitted to 
 the hand, and calculated to deal a deadly blow with the spike of iron or 
 bone which is imbedded in the ball or bulb at the end. 
 
 Two of the toiaahawks that I have named, marked e, are what are deno- 
 minated " pipp.-tonialiawks," as the heads of them are formed into bowl* 
 like a pipe, in which their tobacco is put, and they smoke through the 
 handle. These are the most valued of an Indian's weapons, inasmuch as 
 they are a matter of luxury, and useful for cutting his fire-wood, &c. in 
 time of peace ; and deadly weapons in time ot war, which they use in the 
 hand, or throw with unerring and deadly aim. 
 
 Tile scalping-knife b in a beautiful scabbard, which is carried under the 
 belt, is the form of knife most generally used in all parts of the Indian coun- 
 try, where knives have been introduced. It is a common and cheap but- 
 cher knife with one edge, manufactured at Sheffield, in England, perhaps, for 
 sixpence ; and sold to the poor Indian in these wild regions for a horse. If 
 I should live to get home, and should ever cross the Atlantic with my Collec- 
 tion, a curious enigma would be solved for the English people, who may 
 enquire for a scalping-knife, when tliey find that every one in my Collection 
 (and hear also, that nearly every one that is to be seen in the Indian country, 
 to the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean) bears on its blade the 
 impress of G.R., which they will doubtless understand. 
 
 The huge two-edged knife, with its scabbard of a part of the skin of a 
 grizzly bear's head, letter a, is one belonging to the famous chief of the 
 Mandans, of whom 1 have before said much The manufacture of this knife 
 is undoubtedly American . \nd its shape differs altogether from those which 
 are in general use.* 
 
 • This celebrated knife is now in my Indian Museum, and there is no doubt, from its 
 authentic history, that it has been several times plunged to the hearts of his enemies by 
 
of civilized 
 the Indian 
 }rinous price. 
 
 the Indians 
 nes ornament 
 ition, the In- 
 the metals ; 
 Tu or execute 
 ts on Indian 
 jtchet from a 
 
 flints ; and 
 
 The war-club 
 
 eight or ten 
 
 iniented with 
 
 fashioned out 
 ably fitted to 
 le of iron or 
 
 hat are deno- 
 d into bowls 
 through the 
 inasmuch as 
 ■wood, &c. in 
 ley use in the 
 
 ied under the 
 Indian coun- 
 1 cheap but- 
 1, perhaps, for 
 r a horse. If 
 th nay CoUec- 
 )le, who may 
 ny Collection 
 dian country, 
 its blade the 
 
 he skin of a 
 
 chief of tiie 
 
 i of this knife 
 
 L those which 
 
 doubt, from ita 
 liis enemieft by 
 
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IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
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237 
 
 The above weapons, as well as the bow and lance, of which 1 have before 
 »poken, are all carried and used on horseback with great effect. The In- 
 dians in this country of green fields, all ride for their enemies, and also for 
 their game, which is almost invariably killed whilst their horses are at full- 
 speed . They are all cruel masters for their horses ; and in war or the chase 
 goad them on with a heavy and cruel whip (plate 99 g), the handle of 
 which is generally made of a large prong of the elk's horn or of wood, aiid 
 the lashes of rawhide are very heavy ; being braided, or twisted, or cut into 
 wide straps. These are invariably attached to the wrist of the right arm 
 by a tough thong, so that they can be taken up and used at any moment, and 
 dropped the next, without being lost. 
 
 During the time that I was engaged in painting my portraits, I was oc- 
 casionally inducing the young men to give me their dances, a great variety 
 of which they gave me by being slightly paid ; which I was glad to do, in 
 order to enable me to study their character and expression thoroughly, which 
 I am sure I have done ; and I shall take pleasure in shewing them to the 
 world when I get back. The dancing is generally done by the young men, 
 and considered undignified for the chiefs or doctors to join in. Yet so great 
 was my medicine, that chiefs and medicine-men turned oat and agreed to 
 compliment me with a dance (plate 100). I looked on with great satis- 
 faction ; having been assured by the Interpreters and Traders, that this was 
 the highest honour they had ever known them to pay to any stranger 
 amongst them. 
 
 In this dance, which I have calle^I " the dance of the chiefs," for want of 
 a more significant title, was given by fifteen or twenty chiefs and doctors ; 
 many of whom were very old and venerable men. All of them came out in 
 their head-dresses of war-eagle quills, with a spear or staff in the left hand, 
 and a rattle in the right. It was given in the midst of the Sioux village, in 
 front of the head chief's lodge ; and beside the medicine-man who beat on 
 the drum, and sang for the dance, there were four young women standing 
 in a row, and chanting a sort of chorus for the dancers ; forming one of the 
 very few instances that I ever have met, where the women are allowed to 
 take any part in the dancing, or other game or amusement, with the men. 
 
 This dance was a very spirited thing, and pleased me much, as well as all 
 the village, who were assembled around to witness what most of them never 
 before had seen, their aged and venerable chiefs united in giving a dance. 
 
 the hand of Mah-to-toh-pa, who wielded it. Several years after 1 left that country, and 
 one year after the destruction of the Mandans, I received the following letter from Mr. 
 M'Kenzie, accompanying the knife and other things sent to me by him from that country : 
 ExrRACT — " The poor Mandans are gone, and amongst them your old friend, Mah-to- 
 toh-pa. I have been able to send you but a very few things, %s the Riccareea immediately 
 took possession of everything they had. Amongst the articles I have been able to procure, 
 I send you the war-knife of Mah-to-toh-pa, which is now looked upon as the greatest 
 medicine in this country ; and as yru will recollect it, it will be highly appreciated by 
 you." 
 
2.18 
 
 As I have introduced the scalping -knife above, it may be well for me to 
 give some further account in this place of the custom and the mode of 
 taking the scalp ; a custom practiced by all the North American Indians, 
 which is done when an enemy is killed in battle, by grasping the left hand 
 mto the hair on the crown of the head, and passing the knife around it 
 through the skin, tearing off a piece of the skin with the hair, as large as 
 the pain, of the hand, or larger, which is dried, and often curiously orna- 
 mented and preserved, and highly valued as a trophy. The scalping is an 
 operation not calculated of itself to take life, as it only removes the skin, 
 without injuring the bone of the head ; and necessarily, to be a genuine 
 scalp, must contain and show the crown or centre of the head ; that part of 
 the skin which lies directly over what the phrenologists call ** self-esteem," 
 where the hair divides and radiates from the centre; of which they all profess 
 to be strict judges, and able to decide whether an effort has been made to 
 produce two or more scalps from one head. Besides taking the scalp, the 
 victoi generally, if he has time to do it without endangering his own scalp, 
 cuts off and brings home the rest of the hair, which his wife will divide into 
 a great many small locks, and with them fringe off the seams of his shirt 
 and his leggings, as will have been seen in many of the illustrations ; which 
 also are worn as trophies and ornaments to the dress, and then are fami- 
 liarly called " scalp-locks." Of these there xre many dresses in my Collec- 
 tion, which exhibit a continuous row from the top of each shoulder, down 
 the arms to the wrists, and down the seams of the leggings, from the hips 
 to the feet, rendering them a very costly article to buy from the Indian, 
 who is not sure that his success in his military exploits will ever enable him 
 to replace them. 
 
 The scalp, then, is a patch of the skin taken from the head of an enemy 
 killed in battle, and preserved and highly appreciated as the record cf a 
 death produced by the hand of the individual who possesses it ; and may 
 oftentimes during his life, be of great service to a man living in a com- 
 munity where there is no historian to enrol the names of the fatuous — to 
 record the heroic deeds of the brave, who have gained their laurels in 
 mortal combat with their enemies ; where it is as lawful and as glorious tc 
 slay an enemy in battle, as it is in Christian communities ; and where iht. 
 poor Indian is bound to keep the record himself, or be liable to lose it 
 and the honour, for no one in the tribe will keep it for him. As the scalp 
 is taken then as the evidence of a der^th, it will easily be seen, that the 
 Indian has no business or inclination to take it from the head of the living; 
 which I venture to say is never done in North America, unless it be, as it 
 sometimes has happened, where a man falls in the heat oi battle, stunned 
 with the blow of a weapon or a gunshot, and the Indian, rushing over his 
 body, snatches off his scalp, supposing him dead, who afterwards rises from 
 the field of battle, and easily recovers from this superficial wound of the 
 knife, wearing a bald spot on his l>cad during the remainder of his lii'e, of 
 
 ""XSJUHs 
 
■X) 
 
239 
 
 which we have frequent occurrences on our Western frontiers. The scalp 
 must be from the head of an enemy also, or it subjects its possessor to 
 disgrace and infiimy who carries it. There may be many instances where an 
 Indian is justified in the estimation of his tribe in taking tlie life of one of 
 his own people ; and their laws are such, as oftentimes make it his imperative 
 duty ; and yet no circumstances, however aggravating, will justify him or 
 release him from the disgrace of taking the scalp. 
 
 There is no custom practised by the Indians, for which they aie more 
 universally condemned, than that of taking the scalp ; and, at the same 
 time, I think there is some excuse for liiem, inasmuch as it is a general 
 custom of the country, and founded, like many other apparently absurd 
 and ridiculous customs of these people, in one of the necessities of Indian 
 life, which necessities we are free from in the civilized world, and which 
 customs, of course, we need not and do not practice. From an ancient 
 custom, •' time out of mind," the warriors of these tribes have been in the 
 habit of going to war, expecting to take the scalps of their enemies whom 
 they may slay in battle, and all ey^s of the tribe are upon them, making it 
 their duty to do it ; so from custom it is every man's right, and his duty also, 
 to continue and keep up a regulation of his society, which it is not in his 
 power as an individual, to abolish or correct, if he saw fit to do it. 
 
 One of the principal denunciations against the custom of taking the scalp, 
 is on account of its alleged cruelty, which it certainly has not ; as the cruelty 
 would be in the killing, and not in the act of cutting the skin from a man's 
 head after he is dead. To say the most of it, it is a disgusting custom, and 
 I wish I could be quite sure that the civilized and Christian world (who kill 
 hundreds, to where the poor Indians kill one), do not often treat their enemies 
 dead, in equally as indecent and disgusting a manner, as the Indian does by 
 taking the scalp. 
 
 If the reader thinks that I am taking too much pains to defend the 
 Indians for this, and others of their seemingly abominable customs, he will 
 bear it in mind, that I have lived with these people, until I have learned the 
 necessities of Indian life in which these customs are founded ; and also, that 
 I have met with so many acts of kindness and hospitality at the hands of the 
 poor Indian, that I feel bound, when I can do it, to render what excuse I can 
 for a people, who are dying with broken hearts, and never can speak in the 
 civilized world in their own defence. 
 
 And even yet, reader, if your education, and your reading of Indian cruel- 
 ties and Indian barbarities — of scalps, and scalping-knives, and scalping, 
 should have ossified a corner of your heart against these unfortunate people, 
 and would shut out their advocate, I will annoy you no longer on this sub- 
 ject, but withdraw, and leave you to cherish the very beautiful, humane and 
 parental moral that was carried out by the United States and British Govern- 
 ments during the last, and the revolutionary wars, when they mutually em- 
 ployed thousands of their " Red children," to aid and to bleed, in fighting 
 
240 
 
 Uieir battles, and paid them, according to contract, so many pounds, shilling* 
 and pence or so many dollars and cents for every " scalp" of a " red" or 
 a '• blue coat" they could bring in ! 
 
 In PLATE 101, there will be seen the principal modes in which the scalps 
 are prepared, and several of the uses to which they are put. The most usual 
 way of preparing and dressing the scalp is that of stretching it on a little 
 hoop at the end of a stick two or three feet long (letter a), for the purpose 
 of " dancing it," as they term it; which will be described in the scalp-dance, 
 in a few moments. There are many again, which are small, and not 
 " dressed ; " sometimes not larger than a crown piece (letter c), and hung^ 
 to difierent parts of the dress. In public shows and parades, they are 
 often suspended from the bridle bits or halter when they are paraded and 
 carried as trophies (letter b). Sometimes they are cut out, as it were into 
 a string, the hair forming a beautiful fringe to line the handle of a war-club 
 (letter e). Sometimes they are hung at the end of a club {letter d), and at 
 other times, by the order of the chi?f, are hung out, over the wigwams, 
 suspended from a pole, which is called the " scalp-pole." This is often 
 done by the chief of a village, in a pleasant day, by his erecting over his wig- 
 wam a pole with all the scalps that he had taken, arranged upon it (letter y) ; 
 at the sight of whi '^ the chiefs and warriors of the tribe, who had taken 
 scalps, " follow jnebling every member of the community to stroll 
 
 about the village ...lat day and " count scalps," learning thereby the 
 standing of every warrior, which is decided in a great degree by the number 
 of scalps they have taken in battles with their enemies. Letters g, g, shew 
 the usual manner of taking the scalp, and (letter h), exhibits the hesid of a 
 man who had been scalped and recovered from the wound. 
 
 So much for scalps and scalping, of which I shall yet say more, unless I 
 should unluckily lose one before I get out of the country. 
 
0. Cailin . 
 
2^1 
 
 letter-No. 30. 
 
 MOUTH OF TETON RlVEIl, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 Ik the last letter I gave an account of many of the weapons and other manu- 
 factures of these wild folks ; and as this has been a day of packing and 
 casing a great many of these things, which I have obtained of the Indiiins, 
 to add to my Music Indicmie, I will name a few more, which 1 have just 
 been handling over ; some description of which may bo necessary for the 
 reader in endeavouring to appreciate some of their strange customs and 
 amusements, which I am soon to unfold. In plate 101|, letters a and 
 b, will be seen the quiver made of the fawn's skin, and the Sioux shield made 
 of the skin of the bu ..ilo's neck, hardened with the glue extracted from the 
 hoofs and joints of the same animal. The process of " smoking the shield" 
 is a very curious, as well as an important one, in their estimation. For this 
 purpose a young man about to construct him a shield, digs a hole of two 
 feet in depJth, in the ground, and as large in diameter as he c\°signs to make 
 liis shield. In this he builds a fire, and over it, a few inches higher than the 
 ground, he stretches the raw hide horizontally over the fire, with little pegs 
 driven through holes made near the edges of the skin. This skin is at first, 
 twice as large as the size of the required shield ; but having got his particular 
 and best friends (who are invited on the occasion,) into a ring, to dance and 
 sing around it, and solicit the Great Spirit to instil into it the power to 
 protect him harmless against his enemies, he spreads over it the glue, which 
 is rubbed and dried in, as the skin is heated ; and a second busily drives 
 other and other pegs, inside of those in the ground, as they are gradually 
 giving way and being pulled up by the contraction of the skin. By this 
 curious process, which is most dexterously done, the skin is kept tight whilst 
 it contracts to one-half of its size, taking up the glue and increasing in thick- 
 ness until it is rendered as thick and hard as required (and his friends have 
 pleaded long enough to make it arrow, and almost ball proof), when the 
 dance ceases, and the fire is put out. When it is cooled and cut into the 
 shape that he desires, it is often painted with his medicine or totem upon it, 
 the figure of an eagle, an owl, a buffalo or other animal, as the case may be, 
 which he trusts will guard and protect him from harm ; it is then fringed 
 with eagles' quills, or other ornaments he may have chosen, and slung with 
 a broad leather strap that crosses his breast. These shields are carried by 
 all the warriors in these regions, for their protection in battles, which are 
 almost mvariably fought from their horses' backs. 
 
 VOL. I. II 
 
 :V. 
 
 I' » I 
 
242 
 
 0( pipes, and the custom of imoking, I have already iiwken : and I theti 
 said, that tlic Indians use several substitutes for tobacco, which (iiey call 
 K'nkk K'neck. For the carrying of this delicious weed or bark, and pre- 
 serving its flavour, the v/onien construct very curious pouches of otter, or 
 beaver, or other skins (letters c, c, c,), which arc ingeniously ornamented 
 with porcupine quills and beads, and generally carried hanging across the 
 left arm, containing a quantity of the precious narcotic, with flint and steel, 
 and spunk, for lighting the pipe. 
 
 The musical instruments used amongst these people are few, and exceed- 
 ingly rude and imperfect, consisting chiefly of rattles, drums, whistles, and 
 lutes, all of which are used in the different tribes. 
 
 In PLATE 101 J (letters d, d,) will be seen the rattles (or She-she-quois) 
 most generally used, made of rawhide, which becomes very hard when dry, 
 and charged with pebbles or something of the kind, which produce a shrill 
 noise to mark the time in their dances and songs, Their drums (letters e, e,) 
 are made in a very rude manner, oftentimes with a mere piece of rawhide 
 stretclfed over a hoop, very much in the shape of a tambourin ; and at other 
 times are made in the form of a keg, with a head of rawhide at each end ; 
 on these they beat with a drum-stick, which oftentimes itself is a rattle, the 
 bulb or head of it being made of rawhide and filled with pebbles. In other 
 instances the stick has, at its end, a little hoop wound and covered with buck- 
 skin, to soften the sound ; with which they beat on the drum with great 
 violence, as the chief and heel-inspiring sound for all their dances, and also 
 as an accompaniment for their numerous and never-ending songs of amuse- 
 ment, of thanksgiving, and medicine or metai. The mystery whistle, (letter 
 /,) is another instrument of their invention, and very ingeniously made, 
 the sound being produced on a principle entirely different from that of any 
 wind instrument known in civilized inventions; and the notes produced on 
 it, by the sleight or trick of an Indian boy, in so simple and successful a 
 manner, as to baffle entirely all civilized ingenuity, even when it is seen to 
 be played. An Indian boy would stand and blow his notes on this repeatedly, 
 for hundreds of white men who might be lookers-on, not one of whom could 
 make the least noise on it, even by practising with it for hours. When I 
 first saw this curious exhibition, I was charmed with the peculiar sweetness 
 of its harmonic sounds, and completely perplexed, (as hundreds of white 
 men have no doubt been before me, to the great amusement and batisfaction 
 of the women and children,) as to the mode in which the sound was produced, 
 even though it was repeatedly played immediately before my eyes, and 
 handed to me fbr my vain and amusing endeavours. The sounds of this 
 little simple toy are liquid and sweet beyond description ; and, though here 
 only given in harmonics, I am inclined to think, might, by some ingenious 
 musician or musical instrument-maker, be modulated and converted into 
 something very pleasing. 
 The War-whistle (letter h,) is a well known and valued little instrument, 
 
Ci.CiUiui. 
 
243 
 
 of six or nine inches in length, invariably made of ^he bone of the deer 
 or turkey's leg, and generally ornamented with porcupine quills of different 
 colours which are wound around it. A chief or leader carries this to battle 
 with him, suspended generally from his neck, and worn under his dress. 
 This little instrument has but (wo notes, which are produced by blowing in 
 the ends of it. The note produced in one end, being much more shrill than 
 the other, gives the signal for battle, whilst the other sounds a retreat ; a 
 thing that is distinctly heard and understood by every man, even in the heat 
 and noise of battle, where all are barking and yelling as loud as possible, 
 and of course unable to hear the commands of their leader. 
 
 There is yet another wind instrument which 1 have added to my Collectioin, 
 and from its appearance would seem to have been borrowed, in part, from the 
 civilized world (letter g). This is what is often on the frontier called a 
 " deer-skin Jlute," a " Winnebago courting flute," a " tsal-eet-quash-to," &c.; 
 it is perforated with holes for the fingers, sometimes for six, at others for 
 four, and in some instances for three only, having only so many notes with 
 their octaves. These notes are very irregularly graduated, showing clearly 
 that they have very little taste or ear for melody. These instruments are 
 blown in the end, and the sound produced much on the principle of a whistle. 
 
 In the vicinity of the Upper Mississippi, I often and familiarly heard this 
 instrument, called the Winnebago courting flute ; and was credibly informed 
 by traders and others in those regions, that the young men of that tribe meet 
 with signal success, oftentimes, in wooing their sweethearts with its simple 
 notes, which they blow for hours together, and from day to day, from the 
 bank of some stream — some favourite rock or log on which they are seated, 
 near to the wigwam which contains the object of their tender passion ; until 
 her soul is touched, and she responds by some welcome signal, that she is 
 ready to repay the young Orpheus for his pains, with the gift of her hand 
 and her heart. How true these representations may have been made, I 
 cannot say, but there certainly must have been some ground for the present 
 cognomen by which it is known in that country. 
 
 From these rude and exceedingly defective instruments, it will at once be 
 seen, that music has made but little progress with these people ; and the 
 same fact will be still more clearly proved, to those who have an opportunity 
 to hear th«ir vocal exhibitions, which are daily and almost hourly serenading 
 the ears of the traveller through their country. 
 
 Dancing is one of the principal and most frequent amusements of all the 
 tribes of Indians in America ; and, in all of these, both vocal and instrumental 
 music are introduced. These dances consist in about four different steps, 
 which constitute all the different varieties ; but the figures and forms of these 
 scenes are very numerous, and produced by the most violent jumps and con- 
 tortions, accompanied with the song and beats of the drum, which are given 
 in exact time with their motions. It has been said by some travellers, that 
 
244 
 
 the Indian has neither harmony or melody in his music, but I am unwiUin^ 
 to subscribe to such an assertion ; although I grant, that for the most part of 
 their vocal exercises, there is a total absence of wlat the musical world would 
 call melody ; their songs being made up chiefly of a sort of violent chaunt of 
 harsh and jarring gutturals, of yelps and barks, and screams, which are 
 piven out in perfect time, not only with *« method (but with harmony) in 
 their madness." There are times too, as every traveller of the Indian country 
 will attest, if he will recall them to his recollection, when the Indian lays 
 down by his fire-side with his drum in his hand, which he lightly and almost 
 imperceptibly touches over, as he accompanies it with his stifled voice of 
 dulcet sounds that might come from the most tender and delicate female. 
 
 These quiet and tender songs are very different from those which are sung 
 at their dances, in full chorus and violent gesticulation ; and many of them 
 seem to be quite rich in plaintive expression and melody, though barren of 
 change and variety. 
 
 Dancing, I have before said, is one of the principal and most valued 
 amusements of the Indians, and much more frequently practised by them 
 than by any civilized society ; inasmuch as it enters into their forms of wor- 
 ship, and is often their mode of appealing to the Great Spirit — of paying their 
 usual devotions to their medicine — and of honouring and entertaining 
 strangers of distinction in their country. 
 
 Instead of the " giddy maze" of the quadrille or the country dance, 
 enlivened by the cheering smiles and graces of silkened beauty, the Indian 
 performs his rounds with jumps, and starts, and yells, much to the satisfac- 
 tion of his own exclusive self, and infinite amusement of the gentler sex, who 
 are a'ways lookers on, but seldom allowed so great a pleasure, or so signal an 
 hbnoui, as that of joining with their lords in this or any other entertainment. 
 Whilst staying with these people on my way up the river, I was repeatedly 
 honoured with the dance, and 1 as often hired them to give them, or went 
 to overlook where they were performing them at their own pleasure, in pur- 
 suance of their peculiar customs, or for their own amusement, that I might 
 •tudy and correctly herald them to future ages. I saw so many of their dif- 
 ferent varieties of dances amongst the Sioux, that I should almost be disposed 
 to denominate them the " dancing Indians." It would actually seem as if 
 they had dances for every thing. And in so large a village, there was 
 scarcely an hour in any day or night, but what the beat of the drum could 
 somewhere be heard. These dances are almost as various and different in their 
 character as they are numerous — some of them so exceedingly grotesque and 
 laughable, as to keep ihebystanders in an irresistible roar of laughter — otliers 
 are calculated to excite his pity, and forcibly appeal to his sympathies whilst 
 others disgust, and yet others terrify and alarm him with their fiightfui 
 threats and contortions. 
 
 All the world have heard of the " bear-dance," though I doubt whether 
 more than a very small proportion have ever seen it; here it is (plate 102) 
 
1\ 
 
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 "^M 
 
 O 
 
 
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I 
 
245 
 
 The Sioux, like all the others of these western tribes, are fond of bear's meat, 
 and must have good stores of the "bear's-grease" laid in, to oil their long and 
 glossy locks, as well as the surface of their bodies. And they all like the 
 fine pleasure of a bear hum, and also a participation in the bear dance, 
 which is given several days in succession, previous to their starting out, and 
 in wiiich they all join in a song to the Bear Spirit ; which they think holds 
 somewhere an invisible existence, and must be consulted and conciliated 
 before they can enter upon their excursion with any prospect of success. 
 For this grotesque and amusing scene, one of the chief medicine-men, placed 
 over his body the entire skin of a bear, with a war-eagle's quill on his head, 
 taking the lead in the dance, and looking through the skin which formed a 
 masque that hung over his ftice. Many others in the dance wore masques 
 on their faces, made of the skin from the bear's head ; and all, with the 
 motions of tiieir hands, closely imitated the movements of that animal; some 
 representing its motion in running, and others the peculiar attitude and 
 hanging of the paws, when it is sitting up on its hind feet, and looking out 
 for the approach of an enemy. This grotesque and amusing masquerade 
 oflentimcs is continued at intervals, for several aays previous to the starting 
 oi' a party on the bear hunt, who would scarcely count upon a tolerable 
 prospect of success, without a strict adherence to this most important and 
 indispensible form ! 
 
 Dancing is done here too, as it is o^tontimes done in the enlightened 
 world, to get favours — to buy the world's goods; and in both countries 
 danced with about equal merit, except that the Indian has surpassed us ir 
 honesty by christening it in his own country, the " beggar s dance." This 
 spirited dance (plate 103), was given, not by a set of beggars though, 
 literally speaking, but by the first and most independent young men in the 
 tribe, beautifully dressed , (i.e. not dressed at all, except with their breech clouts 
 or kelts, made of eagles' and ravens' quills,) with their lances, and pipes, and 
 rattles in their hands, and a medicme-man beating the drum, and joining in 
 the song at the highest key of his voice. In this dance every one sings as 
 loud as he can halloo ; uniting his voice with the others, in an appeal to the 
 Great Spirit, to open the hearts of the bystanders to give to the poor, and 
 not to themselves ; assuring them that the Great Spirit will be kind to those 
 who are kind to the helpless and poor. 
 
 Of scalps, and of the modes and objects of scalping, 1 have before spoken ; 
 and I therein stated, " that most of the scalps were stretched on little hoops 
 for the purpose of beif'g used in the scalp-dance, of which I shall say more 
 at a future time." 
 
 The Scalp-dance (plate 104) is given as a celebration of a victory ; and 
 amongst this tribe, as I learned whilst residing with them, danced in the night, 
 by the light of their torches, and just before retiring to bed. When a w»- 
 party returns from a war excursion, bringing home with them the scalps o* 
 their enemies, they generally " dance them" for fifteen nights in successicn, 
 
246 
 
 TRanting forth the moit extravagant boasts of their wonderful prowess in war, 
 whilst they brandish their war weapons in their hands. A number of 
 young women are selected to aid (though they do not actually join in the 
 dance), by stepping into the centre of the ring, and holding up the scalps 
 that have been recently taken, whilst the warriors dunce (or rather jump), 
 around in a circle, brandishing their weapons, and barking and yelping in the 
 most frightful manner, all jumping on both feet at a time, with a simulta- 
 neous stamp, and blow, and thrust of their weapons ; with which it would 
 seem as if they were actually cutting and carving each other to pieces. 
 During these frantic leaps, and yelps, and thrusts, every man distorts his face 
 to the utmost of his muscles, darting about his glaring eye-balls and snapping 
 his teeth, as if he were in the heat (and actually breathing through his 
 inflated nostrils the very hissing death) of battle ! No description that can 
 be written, could ever convey more than a feeble outline of the frightful 
 effects of these scenes enacted in the dead and darkness of night, under the 
 glaring light of their blazing flambeaux ; nor could all the years allotted to 
 mortal man, in the least obliterate or deface the vivid impress that one scene 
 of this kind would leave upon his memory. 
 
 The precise object for which the scalp is taken, is one which is definitely 
 understood, and has already been explained ; but the motive (or motives), 
 for which this strict ceremony is so scrupulously held by all the American 
 tribes, over the scalp of an enemy, is a subject, as yet not satisfactorily set- 
 tled in my mind . There is no doubt, but one great object in these exhibitions 
 is public exultation ; yet there are several conclusive evidences, that there 
 are other and essential motives for thus formally and strictly displaying the 
 scalp. Amongst some of the tribes, it is the custom to bury the scalps after 
 they have gone through this series of public exhibitions ; which may in a 
 measure have been held for the purpose of givingthem notoriety, and of award- 
 ing public credit to the persons who obtained them, and now, from a custom of 
 the tribe, are obliged to part with them. The great respect which seems to 
 be paid to them whilst they use them, as well as the pitying and mournful 
 song which they howl to the manes of tlieir unfortunate victims; as well as 
 the precise care and solemnity with which they afterwards bury the scalps, 
 sufficiently convince me that they have a superstitious dread of the spiriti oJ 
 iheir slain enemies, and many conciliatory offices to perform, to ensure theii: 
 own peace ; one of which is the ceremony above described. 
 
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947 
 
 LETTER— No. 31. 
 
 MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, UPPER MISSOURI. 
 
 In former Letters I have given some account of the Bisons, or (as they 
 are more familiarly denominated in this country) Buffaloes, which inhabit 
 these regions in numerous herds ; and of which I must say yet a little more. 
 These noble animals of the ox species, and which have been so well de- 
 scribed in our books on Natural History, are a subject of curious interest 
 and great importance in this vast wilderness ; rendered peculiarly so at this 
 time, like the history of the poor savage ; and from the same consideration, 
 that they arc rapidly wasting away at the approach of civilized man^and 
 like him and his character, in a very few years, to live only in books or on 
 ' canvass. 
 
 The word buffalo is undoubtedly most i :orrectly applied to these ani- 
 mals, and I can scarcely tell why they have leen so called ; for they bear 
 just about as much resemblance to the Eastern buffalo, as they do to a 
 zebra or to a common ox. How nearly they may approach to the bison of 
 Europe, which I never have had an opportunity to see, and which, I am 
 inclined to think, is now nearly extinct, I am unable to say ; yet if I were 
 to judge from the numerous engravings I have seen of those animals, and 
 descriptions I have read of them, I should be inclined to think, there was 
 yet a wide difference between the bison of the American prairies, and those 
 in the North of Europe and Asia. The American bison, or (as I shall here- 
 after call it) buffalo, is the largest of the runinating animals that is now 
 living in America ; and seems to have been spread over the plains of this 
 vest country, by the Great Spirit, for the use and subsistence of the red men, 
 who live almost exclusively on their flesh, and clothe themselves with their 
 skins. The reader, by referring back to plates 7 and 8, in the beginning 
 of this Work, will see faithful traces of the male and female of this huge 
 animal, in their proud and free state of nature, grazing on the plains of the 
 country to which they appropriately belong. Their colour is a dark brown, 
 but changing very much as the season varies from warm to cold ; their hair 
 or fur, from its great length in the winter and spring, and exposure to the 
 weather, turning quite light, and almost to a jet black, when the winter coat 
 is shed off, and a new growth is shooting out. 
 
 The buffalo bull often grows to the enormous weight of 2000 pounds, and 
 shakes a long and shaggy black mane, that falls in great profusion and con- 
 
 
248 
 
 il 
 
 fusion, over \\h licnd and Rhoul(ler» ; nnci oftentimes fiillini; ilown qnitc to 
 the ground. The hornn arc short, but very Inrgc, and hnvc but one turn, 
 i.e. they arc a simple; arch, without tlic least ajiproauh to a spiral form, like 
 those ol'tiie common ox, or of the gout species. 
 
 The female is much smaller than the male, and always diiitinguishabrc by 
 tlic peculiar shape of the horns, which are much smaller and more crooked, 
 turning their points more in toward? the centre of the forehead. 
 
 One of the most remarkable characteristics of the buffalo, is tlie peculiar 
 formation and expression of the eye, the ball of which is very large and white, 
 and the iris jet black. The lids of the eye seem always to be strained quite 
 open, and the ball rolling forward and down ; so that a considerable pun of 
 the iris is hidden behind the lower lid, while the pure white of the eyeball 
 glares out over it in an arch, in the shape of a moon at the end of its first 
 quarter. 
 
 These animals are, truly speaking, gregarious, but notmigratory — they graze 
 h) immense and almost incredible numbers at times, and roam about and 
 over vast tracts of country, from East to West, and fronj West to East, as 
 often as from North to South ; which has often been supposed they natu- 
 rally and habitually did to accommodate themselves to the temperature of 
 ♦he climate in the different latitudes. The limits within which they are 
 found in America, are from the 30th to the 55th degrees of North latitude ; 
 ar their extent from East to West, which is from the border of our extreme 
 Western frontier limits, to the Western verge of the Rocky Mountains, is 
 defined by quite different causes, than those which the degrees of tempera- 
 ture liave prescribed to them en the North and the South. Within these 
 'if) degrees of latitude, the buffaloes seem to flourish, and get their living 
 without the necessity of evading the rigour of the climate, for which Nature 
 seems most wisely to have prepared them by the greater or less profusion 
 of fur, with which she has clothed them. 
 
 It is very evident that, as high North as Lake Winnepeg, seven or eight 
 hundred miles North of this, the buffalo subsists itself through the severest 
 winters ; getting its food chiefly by browsing amongst the timber, and by 
 pawing through the snow, for a bite at the grass, which in those regions is 
 frozen up very suddenly in the beginning of the winter, with all its juices in 
 it, and consequently furnishes very nutritious and efficient food ; and 
 often, if not generally, supporting the animal in better flesh during these 
 difficult seasons of their lives, than they are found to be in, in the 30th degree 
 of latitude, upon the borders of Mexico, where the severity of winter is not 
 known , but during a long and tedious autumn, the herbage, under the in- 
 fluence of a burning sun, is gradually dried away to a mere husk, and its 
 nutriment gone, leaving these poor creatures, even in the dead of winter, 
 to bask in the warmth of a genial sun, without the benefit of a green or 
 juicy thing to bite at. 
 
 The place from which I am now writing, may be said to be the very heart or 
 
 I 
 
 
240 
 
 "^1 
 
 \ 
 
 nuclotii of the biifTalo country, about cqiii-dUtunt between tlie two cxticmcs; 
 and of course, the most oon(;cuial tuni|)tTaturc for thcni tu flouriili in. The 
 finest animuls thnt (^razc on tlic prairies are to be found in tins latitude ; 
 and I am sure I never could send from a better source, some further account 
 of the death and destruction that is dealt amon^ these noble animals, and 
 hurrying on their final extincticn. 
 
 The Sioux arc a bold and desperate set of horsemen, aiul great hunters ; 
 and in the heart of their country is one of the most extensive assortments of 
 goods, of whiskey, and other saleable commodities, as well us a party of tho 
 most indefatigable nun, who are constantly calling for every robe that can 
 be stripped from these animals' backs. 
 
 These arc the causes which lead so directly to their rapid destruction ; 
 und which open to tlie view of the traveller so freshly, so vividly, and so 
 faiiiiliaily, the scenes of archery — of lancing, and of death-dealing, that 
 belong peculiarly to this wild and shorn country 
 
 The almost countless herds of these animals that are sometimes met with 
 on tlicae prairies, have been often spoken of by other writers, and may 
 yet be seen by any traveller who will tike the pains to visit these re- 
 gions. The " runHiHf/ ATMSOH," which is in August and September, is the 
 time when they congregate into such masses in some places, as literally to 
 blacken the prairies for miles together. It is no iinccwinion thing at this 
 season, at these gatherings, to see several thousands Ir. a mass, eddying and 
 wheeling about under a cloud of dust, which is raisid by the bulls as they 
 are ])uwing in the dirt, O'' engaged in desperate con.lats, as they constantly 
 aie, plunging and butting at each other in the most furious manner (i'Latb 
 105). In these scenes, the males ar«.'. continually following the females, and 
 the whole mass arc in constant motion ; and all bellowing (ur " roaring") 
 in deep and hollow sounds ; which, mingled altogether, appear, at the dis- 
 tance of a mile or two, like the sound of distant thunder. 
 
 During the season whilst they are congregated tngetlicr in these dense 
 and confused masses, the remainder of the country around for many miles, 
 becomes entirely vacated ; and the traveller may spend many a toilsome 
 day, and many a hungry night, without being cheered by the sight of one ; 
 where, if he retraces his steps a few weeks after, he will find tiiem dispersed, 
 and grazing quietly in little families and flocks, and cciuuUy slocking the 
 whole country. Of these quiet little herds, a fair representation will be 
 seen in plate 106, where some are grazing, others at play, or lying down, 
 and others indulging in their *' wallows." '' A bull in his wallow" is a fre- 
 quent saying in this country ; and has a very significant meaning with those 
 who have ever seen a buffalo bull performing ablution, or rather endeavour- 
 ing to cool his heated sides, by tumbling about in a mud puddle. 
 
 In the heat of summer, these huge animals, which, no doubt, sufTer very 
 much with the great profusion of their long and shaggy hair or fur, often 
 graze on the low grounds in the prairies, where there is a little stagnant 
 
 VOL. I. K K 
 
250 
 
 water lying amongst the grass, and the ground underneath being saturated 
 with it, is sofl, into which the enormous bull, lowered down upon one knee, 
 will plunge his horns, and at last his head, driving up the earth, and soon 
 making an excavation in the ground, into which the water filters from 
 amongst the grass, forming for him in a few moments, a cool and comfort- 
 able bath, into which he plunges like a hog in his mire. 
 
 In this delectable laver, he throws himself flat upon his side, and forcing 
 himself violently around, with his horns and his huge hump on his shoulders 
 presented to the sides, he ploughs up the ground by his rotary motion, 
 sinking himself deeper and deeper in the ground, continually enlarging his 
 pool, in which he at length becomes nearly immersed ; and the water and 
 mud about him mixed into a complete mortar, which changes his colour, and 
 drips in streams from every part of him as he rises up upon his feet, a 
 hideous monster of mud and ugliness, too frightful and too eccentric to be 
 described ! 
 
 It is generally the leader of the herd that takes upon him to make this 
 excavation ; and if not (but another one opens the ground), the leader (who 
 «s conqueror) marches forward, and driving the other from it plunges him- 
 self into it ; and having cooled his sides, and changed his colour to a 
 walking n^ass of mud and mortar ; he stands in the pool until inclination 
 induces him to step out, and give place to the next in command, who stands 
 ready ; and another, and another, who advance forward in their turns, to 
 enjoy the luxury of the wallow; until the whole band (sometimes an hun- 
 dred or more) will pass through it in turn ; each one throwing his body 
 around in a similar manner ; and each one adding a little to the dimensions 
 of the pool, while he carries away in his hair an equal share of the clay, 
 which dries to a grey or whitish colour, and gradually falls off. By this 
 operation, which is done, perhaps, in the space of half an hour, a circular 
 excavation of fifteen or twenty feet in diameter, and two feet in depth, is 
 completed, and left for the water to run into, which soon fills it to the level 
 of the ground. 
 
 To these sinks, the waters lying on the surface of the prairies, are con- 
 tinually draining, and in them lodging their vegetable deposits ; which, after a 
 lapse of years, fill them up to the surface with a rich soil, which throws up 
 ail unusual growth of grass and herbage; forming conspicuous circles 
 which arrest the eye of the traveller, and are calculated to excite his surprise 
 for ages to come. 
 
 Many travellers who have penetrated not quite far enough into the 
 Western country to see the habits of these animals, and the manner in which 
 these mysterious circles are made; but who have seen the prairies strewed 
 with their bleached bones, and have beheld these strange circles, which 
 often occur in groups, and of different sizes — have come home with beautiful 
 and ingenious theories (which must needs be made), for the origin of these 
 singular and unaccountable appearances, which, for want of a rational 
 
■\ 
 
251 
 
 theory, have generally been attributed to fairy feet, and gained the appel- 
 lation of "fairy circles." 
 
 Many travellers, again, have supposed that these rings were produced by 
 the dances of the Indians, which are oftentimes (and in fact most generally) 
 performed in a circle ; yet a moment's consideration disproves such a pro- 
 bability, inasmuch as the Indians always select the ground for their dancing 
 near the sites of their villages, and that always on a dry and hard founda- 
 tion ; when these " fairy circles" are uniformly found to be on low and wet 
 ground. 
 
 As my visit to these parts of the " Great Far West" has brought me into 
 the heart of the bufi'alo country, where I have had abundant opportunities of 
 seeing this noble animal in all its phases — its habits of life, and every mode 
 of its death ; I shall take tiie lil)erty of being yet a little more particular, 
 and of rendering some further accounts of scenes whieii I have witnessed in 
 following out my sporting propensities in these singular regions. 
 
 The chief hunting amusement of the Indians in these parts consists in the 
 chase of the buffalo, which is almost invariably done on horseback, with 
 bow and lance. In this exercise, which is highly prized by them, as one of 
 their most valued amusements, as well as for the principal mode of pro- 
 curing meat for their subsistence, they become exceedingly expert ; and are 
 able to slay these huge animals with apparent ease. 
 
 The Indians in these parts are all mounted on small, but serviceable 
 horses, which are caught by them on the prairies, where they are often run- 
 ning wild in numerous bands. The Indian, then, mounted on his little 
 wild horse, which has been through some years of training, dashes oft' at 
 full speed amongst the herds of bufl'aloes, elks, or even antelopes, and deals 
 his deadly arrows to their hearts from his horse's back. The horse is the 
 fleetest animal of the prairie, and easily brings his rider alongside of liis 
 game, which falls a certain prey to his deadly shafts, at the distance of a 
 few paces. 
 
 In the chase of the buffalo, or other animal, the Indian generally " strips" 
 himself and his horse, by throwing oft" his shield and quiver, and every part 
 of his dress, which might be an encumbrance to him in running ; grasping 
 his bow in his left hand, with five or six arrows drawn from his quiver, and 
 ready for instant use. In his right hand (or attached t^ the wrist) is a 
 heavy whip, which he uses without mercy, and forces his horse alongside of 
 his game at the swiftest speed. 
 
 These horses are so trained, that the Indian has little use for the rein, 
 which hangs on the neck, whilst the horse approaches the aninuil on the 
 right side (plate 107), giving his rider the chance to throw his arrow to the 
 left ; which he does at the instant when the horse is passing — bringing him 
 opposite to the heart, which receives the deadly weapon " to the feather." 
 When pursuing a large herd, the Indian general'y rides close in the rear, 
 until he selects the animal he wishes to kill, which he separates '"■oni the 
 
252 
 
 throng as soon as lie can, by dashing his horse between it and the herd, 
 and forcing it off by itself; where ho can approach it without the danger of 
 being trampled to death, to which he is often liable by too closely escorting 
 the multitude. 
 
 In PLATE 107, I have fairly represented the mode of approaching, at the 
 instant the arrow is to be tlirv-wn ; ar d the striking disparity between the 
 su. of a huge bull of 2000 pounds weight, and the Indian horse, which, it 
 will be borne in mind, is but a pony. 
 
 No bridle whatever is used in this country by the Indians, as they have 
 no knowledge of a bit. A short halter, however, which answers in place of 
 a bridle, is in general use ; of which they usually form a noose around the 
 under jaw of the horse, by which they get great power over the animal ; 
 and which they use generally to stop rather than t^uide the horse. This 
 halter is called by the French Traders in the country, Varrit, the stop, and 
 has great power in arresting the speed of a horse ; though it is extremely 
 dangerous to use too freely as a guide, interfering too much with the free- 
 dom of his limbs, for the certainty of his feet and security of his rider. 
 
 When the Indian then has directed the course of his steed to the animal 
 which he has selected, the training of the horse i* such, that it knows the 
 object of its rider's selection, and exerts every muscle to give it close com- 
 pany ; while the halter lies loose and untouched upon its neck, and the 
 rider leans qu ?e forward, and off from the side of his horse, with his bow 
 drawn, and ready for the deadly shot, which is given at the instant he is 
 opposite to the animal's body. The horse being instinctively afraid of the 
 animal (though he generally brings his rider within the reach of the end o^ 
 his bow), keeps his eye strained upon the furious enemy he is so closely en- 
 countering ; and the moment he has approached to the nearest distance 
 required, and has passed the animal, whether the shot is given or not, he 
 gradually sheers off, to prevent comint^ on to the horns of the infuriated 
 beast, which often are instantly turned, and presented for the fatal reception 
 of its too familiar attendant. These frightful collisions often take place, 
 notwithstanding the sagacity of the horse, and the caution of its rider ; for 
 in these extraordinary (and inexpressible) exhilarations of chase, which seem 
 to drown the pruder.ce alike, of instinctand reason, both Iiorse and rider often 
 seem rushing on to destruction, as if it were mere pastime and amusement.* 
 
 I have always counted myself a prudent man, yet 1 have often waked (as 
 it were) out of thf delirium of the chase (inlo which I had fallen, as into an 
 agitated sleep, and through which I had passed as th'-ough a delightful 
 dream), where to have died would have been but to have remained, riding 
 on, without a struggle or a pang. 
 
 In some of these, too, I have arisen from the prairie, covered with dirt and 
 
 • The reader will be further instructed on this subject, by referring back to flats 9, 
 111 the beginning of the booV. 
 
 ^^^ 
 
the herd, 
 danger of 
 
 r escorting 
 
 ing, at the 
 2tween the 
 , which, it 
 
 they have 
 n place of 
 iroiind the 
 e animal ; 
 irse. Tiiis 
 stop, and 
 extremely 
 !i the frec- 
 ider, 
 
 the animal 
 
 knows tl.e 
 
 close com- 
 
 V, and tiie 
 
 th his bow 
 
 itant he is 
 
 aid of the 
 
 the end o*" 
 
 iosely en- 
 
 t distance 
 
 )r not, he 
 
 infuriated 
 
 reception 
 
 ike place, 
 
 rider ; for 
 
 hich seem 
 
 rider often 
 
 usement.* 
 
 waked (&B 
 
 as into an 
 
 delightful 
 
 ed, riding 
 
 th dirt and 
 
 to FLATS 9, 
 
 c. ■■"'--- 
 
 ]()7 
 
 '.«^'w. 
 
 iOH 
 
 
253 
 
 blood, having severed company with gun and horse, the one lying some 
 twenty or thirty feet from mo with a broken stall;, and the other coolly 
 brousing on the grass at half a mile distance, without man, and without 
 other beast remaining in sight. 
 
 For the novice in these scenes there is much danger of his limbs and his 
 life, and he finds it a hard and a desperate struggle that brings him in at 
 the death of these huge monsters, except where it has been produced by 
 hands that have acquired more sleight and tact than his own. 
 
 With the Indian, who has made this the every day sport and amusement 
 of his life, there is less difficulty and less danger ; he rides without " losing 
 his breath," and his unagitated hand deals certainty in its deadly blows. 
 
 In PLATK 108, I have represented a party of Indians in chase of a herd, 
 some of whom are pursuing with lance and others with bows and arrows. 
 The group in the foreground shews the attitude at the instant after the 
 arrow has been thrown and driven to t'le heart ; the Indian at full speed, 
 and the laso dragging behind his horse's heels. The laso is a long thong 
 of rawhide, often or fifteen yards in length, made of several braids or twists, 
 and used chiefly to catch the wild horse, which is done by throwing over 
 their necks a noose which is made at the end of the lasc, with which they 
 are " choked down." In running the buffaloes, or in time of war, the laso 
 drags on the ground at the horse's feet, and sometimes several rods bcliind, 
 so that if a man is dismounted, which is often the case, by the tripping or 
 stumbling of the horse, he has tlie power of grasping to the laso, and by 
 stubbornly holding on to it, of stopping and securing his horse, on whose 
 back he is instantly replaced, and continuing on in the chase. 
 
 In the dead of the winters, which are very long and severely cold in this 
 country, where horses cannot be brought into the chase with any avail, the 
 Indian runs upon the surface of the snow by the aid of his snow shoes, 
 which buoy him up, while the great weiglit of the buffaloes, sinks them down 
 to the middle of their sides, and completely stopping their progress, ensures 
 them certain and easy victims to the bow or lance of their pursuers, as in 
 PLATE 109. The snow in these regions often lies during the winter, to the 
 depth of three and four feet, being blown away from the tops and sides of 
 the hills in many places, which are left bare for the buffaloes to graze upon, 
 whilst it is drifted in the hollows and ravines to a very great depth, and 
 rendered almost entirely impassable to these huge animals, which, when 
 closely pursued by their enemies, endeavour to plunge through it, but are 
 soon wedged in and almost unable to move, where they fall an easy prey to 
 the Indian, who runs up lightly upon his snow shoes and drives his lance to 
 their hearts. The skins are then stripped off, to be sold to the Fur Traders, 
 and the carcasses left to be devoured by the wolves. This is the season in 
 which the greatest number of these animals are destroyed for their robes — 
 they are most easily killed at this time, and their hair or fur being longer 
 and more abundant, gives greater v^dne to the robe. 
 
 ; ' 
 
 
 ^^L 
 
254 
 
 \ ! 
 
 The Indians generally kill and dry meat enough in the fall, when it 
 is fat and juicy, to last them through the winter ; so that they have little 
 other object for this unlimited slaughter, amid the drifts of snow, than 
 that of procuring their robes for traffic with their Traders. The snow 
 shoes are made in a great many forms, of two and three feet in length, 
 and one foot or more in width, of a hoop or hoops bent around for the 
 frame, with a netting or web woven across with strings of rawhide, on 
 which the feet rest, and to which they are fastened with straps somewhat 
 like a skate.* With these the Indian will glide over the snow with as- 
 tonishing quickness, without sinking down, or scarcely leaving his track 
 where he has gone. 
 
 The poor buffaloes have their enemy man, besetting and beseiging them 
 at all times of the year, and in all the modes that man in his superior 
 wisdom has been able to devise for their destruction. They struggle in 
 vain to evade his deadly shafts, when he dashes amongst them over 
 the plains on his wild horse — they plunge into the snow-drifts where they 
 yield themselves an easy prey to their destroyers, and they also stand un- 
 wittingly and behold him, unsuspected under the skin of a white wolf, 
 insinuating himself and his fatal weapons into close company, when they 
 are peaceably grazing on the level prairies, and shot down before they 
 are aware of their danger (plate 110). 
 
 There are several varieties of the wolf species in this country, the most 
 formidable and most numerous of which are white, often sneaking about iu 
 gangs or families of fifty or sixty in numbers, appearing in distance, on 
 the green prairies like nothing but a flock of sheep. Many of these animals 
 grow to a very great size, being I should think, quite a match for the 
 largest Newfoundland dog. At present, whilst the buffaloes are so abun- 
 dant, and these ferocious animals are glutted with the buffalo's flesh, they 
 are harmless, and everywhere sneak away from man's presence ; which I 
 scarcely think will be the case after the bu^^aloes are all gone, and they 
 are left, as they must be, with scarcely anything to eat. They always 
 are seen following about in the vicinity of herds of buffaloes and stand ready 
 to pick the bones of those that the hunters leave on the ground, or to over- 
 take and devour those that are wounded, which fall an easy prey to them. 
 While the herd of buffaloes are together, they seem to have little dread oi 
 the wolf, and allow them to come in close company with them. The Indian 
 then has taken advantage of this fact, and often places himself under the 
 skin of this animal, and crawls for half a mile or more on his hands and 
 knees, until he approaches within a few rods of the unsuspecting group, and 
 easily shoots down the fattest of the throng. 
 
 The bufialo is a very timid animal, and shuns the vicinity of man with the 
 
 * The readers will look forward to plates 240 and f43, in the Second Volume, 
 for snow shoes. 
 
7f 
 
 I 
 
 "♦(•r> 
 
 ..-,._ 'C5f^^"-^-'.»^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 .U^- 
 
 
 j>f^ 
 
 v;." 
 
 ■;,^ 
 
 
 luy 
 
 1 -, 
 
255 
 
 keenest bagacily ; yet, when overtaken, and harasaed or wounded, turng 
 upon its assailants with the utmost fury, who have only to seek safety in 
 flight. In their desperate resistance the finest horses are often destroyed ; 
 but the Indian, with his superior sagacity and dexterity, generally finds some 
 efTectivc mode of escape, as in plate 111. 
 
 During the season of the year whilst the calves are young, the male seems 
 to stroll about by the side of the dam, as if for the purpose of protecting the 
 young, at which time it is exceedingly hazardous to attack them, as they arc 
 sure to turn upon their pursuers, who have often to fly to each others assis- 
 tance (plate 112). The buffalo calf, during the first six months is red, and 
 has so much the appearance of a red calf in cultivated fields, that it could 
 easily be mingled and mistaken amongst them. In the fall, when it changes 
 its hair it takes a brown coat for the winter, which it always retains. In 
 pursuing a large herd of buffaloes at the season when their calves are but a 
 few weeks old, I have often been exceedingly amused with the curious 
 manoeuvres of these shy little things. Amidst the thundering confusion of a 
 throng of several hundreds or several thousands of these animals, there 
 will be many of the calves that lose sight of their dams ; and being left 
 behind by the throng, and the swift passing hunters, they endeavour to 
 secrete themselves, when they are exceedingly put to it on a level prairie, 
 where nought can be seen but the short grass of six or eight inches in height, 
 save an occasional bunch of wild sage, a few inches higher, to which the poor 
 affrighted things will run, and dropping on their knees, will push their noses 
 under it, and into the grass, where they will stand for hours, with theireyes shut, 
 imagining themselves securely hid, whilst they are standing up quite straight 
 upon their hind feet and can easily be seen at several miles distance. It is a 
 familiar amusement for us accustomed to these scenes, to retreat back over 
 the ground where we have just escorted the herd, and approach these little 
 trembling things, which stubbornly maintain their positions, with their noses 
 pushed under the grass, and their eyes strained upon us, as we dismount 
 from our horses and are passing around them. From this fixed position they 
 are sure not to move, until hands are laid upon them, and then for the shins 
 of a novice, we can extend our sympathy ; or if he can preserve the skin on 
 his bone: from the furious buttings of its head, we know how to con- 
 gratulate him on his signal success and good luck. In these desperate 
 struggles, for a moment, the little thing is conquered, and makes no further 
 resistance. And I have often, in concurrence with a known custom of the 
 country, held my hands over the eyes of the calf, and breathed a few strong 
 breaths into its nostrils ; after which I have, with my hunting companions, 
 rode several miles into our encampment, with the little prisoner busily fol- 
 lowing the heels of my horse the whole way, as closely and as affectionately 
 as its instinct would attach it to the company of its dam ! 
 
 This is one of the most extraordinary things that I have met with in the 
 liabits of this wild country, and although I had often heard of it, and felt 
 
 - 
 
 I 
 
 <i! 
 
 i 
 
'Jbti 
 
 unable exactly to believe it, I am now willing to boar testimony to the fact, 
 from the numerous iusiuncca which I have witnessed since I came into the 
 country. During the time that 1 resided at this post, in the Nprin|>- of the 
 year, on my way up the river, I assisted (in numerous hunts of the buii'alo, 
 with the Fur Company's men,) in bringing in, in the above manner, several 
 of these little prisoners, which sometimes followed for five or six miles 
 close to our horses' heels, and even into the Fur Company's Tort, and into the 
 8tal)le where our horses were led. In this way, before I left for the he.id 
 waters of the Missouri, I think we had collected about a dozen, which Mr. 
 Laidlaw was successfully raising with tlic aid of a good milch row, and which 
 were to be committed to the care of Mr. Chouteau to be transported by the 
 return of the stcimer, to his extensive |)lantation in the vicinity of St. Louis.* 
 
 It is truly a melancholy contemplation for the traveller in this country, to 
 anticipate the period whieh is not far distant, when the last of these noble 
 aninuils, at the hands of white and red men, will fall victims to their cruel 
 and improvident rapacity ; leaving these beautifid green fiehls, a vast and 
 idle waste, uustocked and un|)eoj)lcd for ages to come, until the bones of the 
 one and the traditions of the other will have vanished, and left scarce an 
 intelligible trace behind. 
 
 That the reader should not think me visionary in these contemplations, or 
 romancing in making such assertions, I will hand him the following item of 
 the extravagancies which are practiced in these regions, and rapidly leading 
 to the results which I have just named. 
 
 When I first arrived at this place, on my way up the river, which was in 
 the month of Muy, in 1832, and had taken up my lodgings in the Fur 
 Company's Fort, Mr. Laidlaw, of whom I have before spoken, and also his 
 chief clerk, Mr. Halsey, and many of their men, as well as the chiefs 
 of the Sioux, told me, that only a few days before I arrived, (when an 
 immense herd of buffaloes hao ' owed themselves on the opposite side of 
 the river, almost blackening tl e plains for a great distance,) a party of five or 
 six hundred Sioux Indians on horseback, forded the river about mid-day, 
 and spending a few hours amongst them, recrossed the river at sun-down 
 and came into the Fort with fourteen hundred fresh buffalo tongues, which 
 were thrown down in a mass, and for which they required but a few gallons 
 of whiskey, which was soon demolished, indulging them in a little, and 
 liarmless carouse. 
 
 This profligate waste of the lives of these noble and useful animals, 
 when, from all that I could learn, not a skin or a pound of the meat (except 
 the tongues), was brought in, fully supports me in the seemingly extravagant 
 
 • The fate of these poor little prisonera, I was iiifurraed on my return to St. Louis a year 
 afterwards, was a very disastrous one. Tlie steamer havi.ig a distance of 1600 miles to 
 perform, and lying a week or two on sand buis, in a country where milk could not be pro- 
 cured, they all perished but oue, which is now flourishing in the extensive fields of this 
 gentleman. 
 

 -gr*- 
 
 j^ ^•-'Ji/A.---- 1'^^' -:---*--^>sijiii_'--'v^!:i=i* -:- ^'- 
 
 
 HI 
 
 i^atlm. 
 
257 
 
 predictions that I have made as to their extinction, which I am certain ia near 
 at hand. In the above extravagant instance, at a season when their skins 
 were without fur and not worth taking off, and their camp was so well 
 stocked with fresh and dried meat, that they had no occasion for using the 
 flesh, there is a fair exhibition of the improvident character of the savage, 
 and also of his recklessness in catering for his appetite, so long as the present 
 inducements are held out to him in his country, for its gratification. 
 
 In this singular country, where the poor Indians have no laws or regulations 
 of society, making it a vice or an impropriety to drink to excess, they think it 
 no harm to indulge in the delicious beverage, as long as they are able to buy 
 whiskey to drink. They look to white men as wiser than themselves, and 
 able to set them examples — they see none of these in their country but sellers 
 of whiskey, who are constantly tendering it to them, and most of them setting 
 the example by using it themselves ; and they easily acquire a taste, that to 
 be catt^ed for, where whiskey is sold at sixteen dollars per gallon, soon 
 impoverishes them, and must soon strip the skin from the last buffalo's back 
 that lives in their country, to " be dressed by their squaws" and vended to 
 the Traders for a pint of diluted alcohol. 
 
 From the above remarks it will be seen, that not only the red men, but 
 red men and white, have aimed destruction at the race of these animals ; and 
 with them, beasts have turned hunters of buffaloes in this country, slaying 
 them, however, in less numbers, and for far more laudable purpose than that 
 of selling their skins. The white wolves, of which I have spoken in a former 
 epistle, follow the herds of buffaloes as I have said, from one season to 
 another, glutting themselves on the carcasses of those that fall by the deadly 
 shafts of their enemies, or linger with disease or old age to be dispatched by 
 these sneaking cormorants, who are ready at all times kindly to relieve them 
 from the pangs of a lingering death. 
 
 Whilst the herd is together, the wolves never attack them, as they instantly 
 gather for combined resistance, which they effectually make. But when 
 the herds are travdling, it often happens that an aged or wounded one, 
 lingers at a distance behind, and when fairly out of sight of the herd, is set 
 upon by these voracious hunters, which often gather to the number of fifly or 
 more, and are sure at last to torture him to death, and use him up at a 
 meal. The bufTaio, however, is a huge and furious animal, and when his 
 retreat is cut off, makes desperate and deadly resistance, contending to the 
 last moment for the right of life — and oftentimes deals death by wholesale, 
 to his canine assailants, which he h tossing into the air or stamping to death 
 under his feet (plate 113). 
 
 During my travels in these regions, I have several times come across such 
 a gan^ of these animals surrounding an old or a wounded bull, where it would 
 spem, from appearances, that they had been for several days in attendance, 
 and at intervals desperately engaged in the effort to take his life. But a 
 short time since, as one of my hunting companions and myself were return- 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 L L 
 
f 
 
 258 
 
 ing to OUT encampment with our horses loaded with meat, we discovered at a 
 distance, a huge bull, encircled with a gang of white wolves; we rode 
 up as near as we could without driving them away, and being within pistol 
 shot, we had a remarkably good view, where 1 sat for a few moments and 
 made a sketch in my note-book (plate 1 14) ; after which, we rode up and 
 gave the signal for them to disperse, which they instantly did, withdrawing 
 themselves to the distance of fifty or sixty rods, when we found, to our great 
 surprise, that the animal had made desperate resistance, until hii eyes were 
 entirely eaten out of his head — the grizzle of his nose was mostly gone — his 
 tongue was half eaten off, and the skin and flesh of his legs torn almost 
 literally into strings. In this tattered and torn condition, the poor old 
 veteran stood bracing up in the midst of his devourers, who had ceased 
 hostilities for a few minutes, to enjoy a sort of parley, recovering strength 
 and preparing to resume the attack in a few moments again. In this group, 
 some were reclining, to gain breath, whilst others were sneaking about and 
 licking their chaps in anxiety for a renewal of the attack ; and others, less 
 lucky, had been crushed to death by the feet or the horns of the bull. I 
 rode nearer to the pitiable object as he stood bleeding and trembling before 
 me, and said to him, " Now is your time, old fellow, and you had better be 
 off." Though blind and nearly destroyed, there seemed evidently to be a 
 recognition of a friend in me, as he straightened up, and, trembling with 
 excitement, dashed off at full speed upon the prairie, in a straight line. 
 We turned our horses and resumed our march, and when we had advanced 
 a mile or more, we looked back, and on our left, where we saw again the 
 ill-fated animal surrounded by his tormentors, to whose insatiable voracity 
 he unquestionably soon fell a victim. 
 
 Thus much I wrote of the buffaloes, and of the accidents that befall them, 
 as well as of the fate that awaits them ; and before I closed my book, I 
 strolled out one day to the shade of a plum-tree, where I laid in the grass 
 on a favourite bluff, and wrote thus : — 
 
 " It is generally supposed, and familiarly said, that a man 'falls' into a 
 reverie ; but I seated myself in the shade a few minutes since, resolved to 
 force myself into one ; and for this purpose I laid open a small pocket-map 
 of North America, and excluding my thoughts from every other object in 
 the world, I soon succeeded in producing the desired illusion. This little 
 chart, over which I bent, was seen in all its parts, as nothing but the green 
 and vivid reality. I was lifted up upon an imaginary pair of wings, which 
 easily raised and held me floating in the open air, from whence I could be- 
 hold beneath me the Pacific and the Atlantic Oceans — the great cities of 
 the East, and the mighty rivers. I could see the blue chain of the great 
 lakes at the North — the Rocky Mountains, and beneath them and near 
 their base, the vast, and almost boundless plains -of grass, which wore 
 speckled with the bands of grazing buffaloes ! 
 
 " The world turned gently around, and I examined its surface ; continent 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 ■^>^^ 
 
 w .- 
 
 .#'"^^.. t 
 
 
 Ill- 
 
 ^>.riii^l« - 
 
 CaZ!.i»u 
 
259 
 
 after continent passed under my eye, and yet amidst them all, I saw not the 
 vast and vivid green, that is spread like a carpet over the Western wilds of 
 my own country. I saw not elsewhere in the world, the myriad herds of 
 biifialoes — my eyes scanned in vain, foi they were not. And when I turned 
 again to the wilds of my native land, I beheld them all in motK ^ ! For 
 the distance of several hundreds of miles from North to South, they were 
 wheeling about in vast columns and herds — some were scattered, and ran 
 with furious wildness — some lay dead, and others were pawing the earth for 
 a hiding-place — some were sinking down and dying, gushing out thair life's 
 blood r> deep-drawn sighs — and others were contending in furious battle 
 for the litie they possessed, and the ground that they stood upon. They had 
 long since assembled from the thickets, and secret haunts of the deep forest, 
 into the midst of the treeless and bushless plains, as the place for their 
 safety. I could see in an hundred places, amid the wheeling bands, and 
 on their skirts and flanks, the leaping wild horse darting among them. I 
 saw not the arrows, nor heard the twang of the sinewy bows that sent them ; 
 but I saw their victin\s fall ! — on other steeds that rushed along their sides 
 I saw the glistening lances, which seemed to lay across them ; their blades 
 were blazing in the sun, till dipped in blood, and then I lost them ! In 
 other parts (and there were many), the vivid flash oi Jire-arms was seen— 
 their victims fell too, and over their dead bodies hung suspended in air, 
 little clouds of whitened smoke, from under which the flying horsemen had 
 darted forward to mingle again with, and deal death to, the trampling throng. 
 " So strange were men mixed (both red and white) with the countless 
 herds that wheeled and eddyed about, that all below seemed one vast ex- 
 tended field of battle — whole armies, in some places, seemed to blacken the 
 eartli's surface ; — in other parts, regiments, battalions, wings, platoons, rank 
 and file, and " Indian-Jile" — all were in motion ; and death and destruc- 
 tion seemed to be the watch-word amongst them. In their turmoil, they 
 sent up great clouds of dust, and with them came the mingled din of 
 groans and trampling hoofs, that seemed like the rumbling of a dreadful 
 cataract, or the roaring of distant thunder. Alternate pity and admiration 
 harrowed up in my bosom and my brain, many a hidden thought ; and 
 amongst them a few of the beautiful notes that were once sung, and exactly 
 in point : ' Quadrupedante putrem sonitii quatit ungula campum.' Even 
 such WIS the din amidst the quadrupeds of these vast plains. And from the 
 craggy cliffs of the Rocky Mountains also were seen descending into the 
 valley, the myriad Tartars, who had nci, horses to ride, but before their well- 
 drawn bows the fattest of the herds were falling. Hundreds and thousands 
 were strewed upon the plains — they were flayed, and their reddened car- 
 casses left; and about them bands of wolves, and dogs, and buzzards were 
 seen devouring them. Contiguous, and in sight, were the distant and feeble 
 smokes of wigwams and villages, where the skins were dragged, and dressed 
 for white man's luxury ! where they were all sold for whiskey, and the poor 
 
1^ 
 
 wmm 
 
 I 
 
 260 
 
 Indians laid drunk, and were crying. I cast my eyes into the towns and 
 cities of the East, and there I beheld buffalo robes ha: ging at almost every 
 door for traffic ; and I taw also the curling smokes of a thousand Stills — and 
 I said, * Oh insatiable man, is thy avarice such ! wouldst thou tear the skin 
 from the back of the last animal u.'this noble race, and rob thy fellow-man 
 of his meat, and for it give him ■poison!'" * * • * 
 
 Many are the rudenesses and wilds in Nature's works, which are destined 
 to fall before the deadly axe anj desolating hands of cultivating man ; and 
 ao amongst her ranks of living, of beast and human, we often find noble 
 stamps, or beautiful colours, to which our admiration cling? ; and even in 
 the overwhelming march of civilized improvements and refinements do we 
 love to cherish their existence, and lend our efforts to preserve them in 
 their primitive rudeness. Such of Nature's works are always worthy of our 
 prsse' vation and protection ; and the further we become separated (and the 
 face of the country) from that pristine wildness and beauty, the more plea- 
 sure does the mind of enlightened man feel in recurring to those scenes, 
 when he can have them preserved for his eyes and his mind to dwell upon. 
 
 Of such " rudenesses and wilds," Nature has no where presented more 
 beautiful and lovely scenes, tlmn those of the vast prairies of the West ; 
 and of man and beast, no noblei specimens than those who inhabit them — 
 the Indian and the buffalo — ^joint and original tenants of the soil, and fu- 
 gitives together from the approach of civilized man ; they have fled to the 
 great plains of the West, and there, under an equal doom, they have taken 
 up their last abode, where their race will expire, and their bones will bleach 
 together. 
 
 It may be that power is right, and voracity a virtue ; and that these 
 people, and these noble animals, are righteously doomed to an issue that 
 will not be averted. It can be easily proved — we have a civilized science 
 that can easily do it, or anything else that may be required to cover the 
 iniquities of civilized man in catering for his unholy appetites, li can be 
 proved that the weak and ignorant have no rights — that there can be no 
 virtue in darkness — that God s gifts have no meaning or merit until they are 
 appro^iriated by civilized man — by him brought into the light, and converted 
 to his uje and luxury. We have a mode of reasoning (I forget what it is 
 called) by which all this can be proved, and even more. The word and the 
 system are entirely of civilized origin ; and latitude is admirably given to 
 them in proportion to the increase of civilized warts, which often require a 
 judge to overrule the laws of nature. I say that W3 can prove such things ; 
 but an Indian cannot. It is a mode of reasoning unknown to him in liis 
 nature's simplicity, but admirably adapted to subserve the interests of the 
 enlightened world, who are always their own judges, when dealing with the 
 savage ; and who, in the present refined age, have many appetites that can 
 only be lawfully indulged, by proving God's laws defective. 
 
261 
 
 these 
 that 
 science 
 er the 
 can be 
 be no 
 ey are 
 erted 
 [it it is 
 and the 
 iven to 
 quire a 
 things ; 
 in his 
 of the 
 vith the 
 at can 
 
 It is not enough in this polished and extravagant age, that we get from the 
 Indian his lands, and the very clothes from his back, but the food from 
 their mouths must be slopped, to add a new and useless aiticle to the 
 fashionable world's luxuries. The ranks must be thinned, ai d the race ex • 
 terminated, of this noble animal, and the Indians of the great plains left 
 without the means of supporting life, that white men may figure a few years 
 longer, enveloped iu buffalo robes — that they may spread them, for their 
 pleasure and elegance, over the backs of their sleighs, and trail them ostenta- 
 tiously amidst the busy throng, as things of beauty and elegance that 
 had been made for them 1 
 
 Reader ! listen to the following calculations) and forget them not. The 
 buffaloes (the quadrupeds from whose backs your beautiful robes were taken, 
 and whose myriads were once spread over the whole country, from the 
 Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic Ocean) have recently fled before the ap- 
 palling appearance of civilized man, and taken up their abode and pasturage 
 amid the almost boundless prairies of the West. An instinctive dread of 
 their deadly foes, who made an easy prey of them whilst grazing in the 
 forest, has led them to seek the midst of the vast and treeless plains of grass, 
 as the spot where they would be least exposed to the assaults of their ene- 
 mies; and it is exclusively in those desolate fields of silence (yet of beauty) 
 that they are to be found — and over these vast steppes, or prairies, have they 
 fled, like the Indian, towards the " setting sun ;" until their bands have 
 been crowded together, and their limits confined to a narrow strip of coun- 
 try on this side of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 This irip of country, which extends from the province of Mexico to 
 lake Winnepeg on the North, is almost one entire plain of grass, which is, 
 and ever must be, useless to cultivating man. It is here, and here chiefly, 
 that the buffaloes dwell ; and with, and hovering about them, live and flou- 
 rish the tribes of Indians, whom God made for the enjoyment of that fair 
 land and its luxuries. 
 
 It is a melancholy contemplatiovi for one who has travelled as I have, 
 through these realms, and seen this noble animal in all its pride and glory, 
 to contemplate it so rapidly wasting from the world, drawing the irresis- 
 tible conclusion too, which one must do, that its species is soon to be ex- 
 tinguished^ and with it the peace and happiness (if not the actual existence) 
 of the libes of Indians who are joint tenants with them, in the occupancj 
 of these vast and idle plains. 
 
 And what a splendid contemplation too, when one (who has travelled 
 these reajms, and can duly appreciate them) imagines them as they might in 
 future be seen, (by some great protecting policy of government) preserved in 
 their pristine beauty and wildness, in a magnificent park, where the world 
 could see for ages to come, the native Indian in his classic attire, galloping 
 his wild horse, with sinewy bow, and shield and lance, amid the fleeting 
 herds of elks and buffaloes. What a beautiful and thrilling specimen for 
 
) 
 
 h 
 
 262 
 
 America to preserve and hold up to the view of her refined citizens and the 
 world, in future ages ! A nations Park, containing man and beast, ir. ail 
 the wild and freshness of their nature's beauty ! 
 
 I would ask no other monument to my memory, nor any other enrolment 
 of my name amongst the famous dead, than the reputation of having been 
 the founder of such an institution. 
 
 Such scenes might easily have been preserved, and still could be che- 
 rished on the great plains of the West, without detriment to the country or 
 its borders ; for the tracts of country on which the buffaloes have assem- 
 bled, are uniformly sterile, and of no available use to cultivating man. 
 
 It is on these plains, which are stocked with buffaloes, that the finest 
 specimens of the Indian race are to be seen. It is here, that the savage is 
 decorated in the richest costume. It is here, and here only, that his wants 
 are all satisfied, and even the /uxunes of life are afforded him in abundance. 
 And here also is he the proud and honourable man (before he has had 
 teachers or laws), above the imported wants, which beget meanness and 
 vice ; stimulated by ideas of honour and virtue, in which the God of Nature 
 has certainly not curtailed him. 
 
 There are, by a fair calculation, more than 300,000 Indians, who are now 
 subsisted on the flesh of the buffaloes, and by those animals supplied with all 
 the luxuries of life which they desire, as they know of none others. The 
 great variety of uses to which they convert the body and other parts of that 
 animal, are almost incredible to the person who has not actually dwelt 
 amongst these people, and closely studied their modes and customs. Every 
 part of their flesh is converted into food, in one shape or another, and on it 
 they entirely subsist. The robes of the animals are worn by the Indians instead 
 of blankets — their skins when tanned, are used as coverings for their lodges, 
 and for their beds ; undressed, they are used for constructing canoes — for 
 saddles, for bridles — I'arrets, lasos, and thongs. The horns are shaped into 
 ladles and spoons — the brains are used for dressing the skins — their bones 
 are used for saddle trees — for war clubs, and scrapers for graining the robes 
 — and others are broken up for the marrow-fat which is contained in them. 
 Their sinews are used for strings and backs to their bows — for thread to 
 string their beads and sew their dresses. The feet of the animals are boiled, 
 with their hoofs, for the glue they contain, for fastening their arrow points, 
 and many other uses. The hair from the head and shoulders, which is long, 
 is twisted and braided into halters, and the t-'l is used for a fly brush. In 
 this wise do these people convert and use the various parts of this useful 
 animal, and with all these luxuries of life about them, and their numerous 
 games, they are happy (God bless them) in the ignorance of the disastrous 
 fate that awaits them. 
 
 Yet this interesting community, with its sports, its wildnesses, its languages, 
 and all its manners and customs, could be perpetuated, and also the buffaloes, 
 whose numbers would increase and supply them with food for ages and 
 
\ 
 
 lumerous 
 lisastrous 
 
 Inguages, 
 l)uffaloes, 
 Lges and 
 
 « enturies to come, if a system of non-intercourse could be established and 
 pkeserved. But such is not to be the case — the buffalo's doom is sealed, and 
 with their extinction must assuredly sink into real despair and starvation, ihe 
 inhabitants of these vast plains, which afford for the Im ians, no other 
 possible means of subsistence ; and they must at last fall a prey to wolves 
 and buzzards, who will have no other bones to pick. 
 
 It seems hard and cruel, (does it not?) that we civilized people with al! tlie 
 luxuries and comforts of the world about us, should be drawing from the 
 backs of these useful animals the skins foi our luxury, leaving their carcasses 
 to be devoured by the wolves — that we should draw from that country, some 
 150 or 200,000 of their robes annually, the greater part of which are tak n 
 from animals that are killed expressly for the robe, at a season when the 
 meat is not cured and preserved, and for each of which skins the Indian has 
 received but a pint of whiskey ! 
 
 Such is the fact, and that number or near it, are annually destroyed, in 
 addition to the number that is necessarily killed for the subsistence of 
 300,000 Indians, who live entirely upon them. It may be said, perhaps, 
 that the Fur Trade of these great western realms, which is now limited chiefly 
 to the purchase of buffalo robes, is of great and national ir portance, and 
 should and must be encouraged. To such a suggestion I .vould reply, by 
 merely enquiring, (independently of the poor Indians' disaf lers,) how much 
 more advantageously would such a capital be employed both for the weal 
 of the country and for the owners, if it were invested i.i machines for the 
 manufacture of woollen robes, of equal and superior value and oeauty ; 
 thereby encouraging the growers of wool, and the industrious manufacturer, 
 rather than cuuivating a taste for the use of buffalo skins; which «s just to 
 be acquired, and then, from necessity, to be dispensed with, when a few years 
 shall have destroyed the last of the animals producing them. 
 
 It may be answered, perhaps, that the necessaries of life are given in 
 exchange for these robes ; but what, i would ask, arc the necessities in 
 Indian life, where they have buffaloe?. in abundance to live on ? The Indian's 
 necessities are entirely artificial — aro all created ; and when the buffaloes shall 
 have disappeared in his country, which will be within eight or ten years, I 
 would ask, who is to supply him with the necessaries of life then ? and I 
 would ask, further, (and le ; the question to be answered ten years hence), 
 when the skin shall have been stripped from the back of the last animal, who 
 is to resist the ravages of 300,000 starving savages ; and in their trains, 
 1,500,000 wolves, whom direst n^ecessity will have driven from their desolate 
 and gameless plains, to seek for the means of subsistence along our exposed 
 frontier? God has e\erywhcie supplied man in a state of Nature, with the 
 necessaries of life, and before we destroy the game of his country, or teach 
 him new desires, he has no wants that are not satisfied. 
 
 Amongst the tribes who have been impoverished and repeatedly removed, 
 the necessaries of life are extended with a better grace from the hands of 
 
2«4 
 
 civilized man ; 90,000 of such have already been removed, and they draw from 
 Government some 5 or 600,000 dollars annually in cash ; which money patses 
 immediately into the hands of white men, and for it the necessaries of life may 
 be abundantly furnished. But who, I would ask, are to furnish the Indians 
 who have been instructed in this unnatural mode — living upon such neces- 
 saries, and even luxuries of life, extended to them by the hands of white 
 men, when those annuities are at an end, and the skin is stripped from the 
 last of the animals which God gave them for their subsistence ? 
 
 Reader, I will stop here, lest you might forget to answer these important 
 queries — these are questions which 1 know will puzzle the world— and, per- 
 haps it is not right that I should ask them. • * ♦ 
 
 * * Thus much I wrote and painted at this place, 
 
 whilst on my way up the river : after which I embarked on the steamer for 
 the Yellow Stone, and the sources of the Missouri, through which interesting 
 regions I have made a successful Tour ; and have returned, as will have been 
 seen by the foregoing narrations, in my canoe, to this place, from whence I 
 am to descend the river still further in a few days. If I ever get lime, I may 
 give further Notes on this place, and of people and their doings, which I 
 met with here ; but at present, I throw my note-book, and canvass, and 
 brushes into my canoe, which will be launched to-morrow morning, and on 
 its way towards St. Louis,, with myself at the stecring-oar, as usual ; and 
 with Ba'tiste and Bogard to paddle, of whom, I beg the readers' pardon for 
 having said nothing of late, though they have been my constant companions. 
 Our way is now over the foaming and muddy waters of the Missouri, and 
 amid snags and drift logs (for there is a sweeping freshet on her waters), 
 and many a day will pass before other Letters will come from me ; and 
 possibly, the reader may have to look to my biographer for the rest. Adieu. 
 
 ENO 01 VOL. I. 
 
 C. and J. Adlard, Prlnten, Uartholoniew ClOM. 
 
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