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WRITTEN DURING EIOIIT YEARS' TRAVEL AMONGST THE WILDEST TRIBES OF INDIANS IN NORTH AMERICA, In 1832, 3;J, lH, 3.'), 36, 37, 38, and 89. IN TWO VOLUMES, WITH rorn iiundked illustrations, cahefully engraved from his original paintings. VOL. I. LONDON: « • • • . . • . • • • • I ■'. PimLISHEDrfrrHij.7«jJ;UOR*,.*'Ar3'He EQYPTIAN hall, PICCADILLY ^ft€NT£I» IIY.TOSSWILL A?ID*S«ViRi{; ^i'jJlDfi'nif^ *••*; ' :*.•'•:•••. • ••• •.'; I84r.-- ••••. ^Entered at Stutionen' Hall.] ■J 4 - 1 -I • -• • • - '""• -Tfc*««ii CONTENTS OP THE FIRST VOLUME. Frontisi'IECe : — The Author painting a Chief in an Indian Village. Map nf Indian Localities embraced within the Author's Travels. M LETTER— No. 1. Wyoming, birth-place of the Author, p. i. — His former Profession — First cnuse of his Travels to the Indian Country — Delegation of Indians in Philadelphia — First ;tart 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 approachinfj them, and estimating their character, p. 5 — 10. Certificates 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 Yellow 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 bluff's, p. 19, pi. 6.— First appearance of a steamer at the Yellow Stone, and curious conjectures of the Indiana about it, p. 20.— Fur Company's Establishment at the mouth of Yellow Stone— M'Keniie— 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— Buflfalo-hunt, p. 25.— Chardon's Leap, p. 26, pi. 9.— Wounded bull, p. 26, pi. 10.— Extraordinary feat of Mr. M'Kenrie, p. 27.— Retnrn from the chase, p. 28. A 2 IV ItJ LETTKK— No. 5, Mourn of Yellow Stone. Aiitlior'8 pnintinx-room, und chiiructprs in it, ]>. 'J9. — lllMckfoot chief, ]i. 39, pi. 11. — Other iUackfuot cliicfH, itiul tlipir costumeii, |). :U), — Mlackl'oot womun and child, j). 30, pis. t'.', 13.— Sculps, und (rbjects for which riikim — red pipe's, iind pip«-!itone (luiirry, |>. 31. — lilnckfout hows, HJiinhU, urrows iind luucoa, p. oU, M, pi. lU. — Suvttral distinguished Ulackfeet, p. 'M, pU. 14, l.'i, 16, 17. LETTER— No. 6, Mouth or Yellow Stone. Medicines or iny> leries — medicine-bnij; — origin of the word medicine, p. 3.5.^Mode of forming the niedicine-hng, p. 3(i. — Vulue of the medicine-hag to the Indian, und mate- rials for their construction, p. 37, pi. 111. — I (lack foot doctor or medicine-man — his mode of curing the sick, p. 39, pi. 19. — Difl'erent offices and importance of mediciue-men, p. 41. LETTER— No. 7, Mouth of Yellow Stone. Crows and Blackfeet — General character and appearance, p. 4!2. — Killing and drying meat, p. 43, pi. S!2. — Crow 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 — Heauty of their dresses — Horse-stealing or capturing — Reasons why they are called rogues and robbers of the first order, &o. p; 4(>. LETTER— No. 8, Mouth of Yellow Stone. Further remarks on the Crnws — Extraordinary length of hair, p. 49. — Peculiarities of the Crow head, and several portraits, p. 30, pis. 14, 25, 26, 27. — Crow and DIackfeet women — Their modes of dressing and pair.dng, p. 51. — Differences between the Crow and Blackfoot languages, p. 51. — Different bands — Different languages, and numbers of the Blackfeet, p. 52. — Knisteneaux — Assinneboins, and Ojibbeways, p. 53. — Ass.nneboina 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. 28, 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. 57, pis. 30, 31, — Ojibbeways — Chief and wife, p. 58, pis. 35, 36. m I'l Ixl I'l 1)1 LETTER— No. 9, Mouth of Yellow Stone. Contemplations of the Ureat Far West and its customs, p. 59. — 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 free trapper, p. 63, 64. ■f LETTER— No. 10, Mandan Village, Upper Missouri. A strange place— Voyage from Mouth of Yellow Stone down the river to Alandans — Commencement — Leave M'Kenzie's Fort, p. ( — Assinneboins encamped on the river — Wi-jun-jon lecturing on the customs of white people — Mountain-sheep, p. 67. — pi. II.— Other cliild, J). 30, B t|imrry,|>, 31. I (Ii8tiii^ui8lit>d 35.— Mode of lian, and inute- lan^iis mode luediciue-meo. ig and drying leir tents and ikins, p. 45. — why they are iarities of the ckfeet women the Crow and iimbitrs of the AsB.nneboina J5, pi. 32.— 66. — Dresses or Crees) — iways — Chief cquaictance, 10 Author in UI. IMandans — on the river p. 67.— i War-PRKles- GriKly benrs, p. 68.— Clny bluffsj, " brick-kilns," volranic ipmoins, p. 69, pis. 37, 3a. — Rud puniicH stono — A wild stroll — Mountainefr'u sleep, p. 70. — (irizzly bear iind cubs— tJournfjeous attack— Cunoe robbed, p. 71.— Eating our meats on a pile of drift-wood — Knciunping in the night — Voluptuous scene of wild flowers, bufl'alo bush and berries, p. Ti. — Adventure after an elk — War-party discovered, p. 74 — Mag- nificent scenery in the " (Jrnnd iXitour" — Stupendous clay bluft's — Table land, p. 75. pi. 39. — Antelope shooting, p. 76, pi. 40, — " Orand Dome" — Prairie dogs — Village — Fruitless endeavours to shoot them, p. 77, pi. 42. — Pictured bluft" and the Three Domes, p. 7U, pis. 43, 44.— Arrival at the Mandan village, p. 79. LETTER— No. 11, Mandan Village. Location — Village, p. 00, j)l. 45. — Former locations, fortification of their village — Descrip- tion of village and mode of constructing their wigwams, p. 131, lit'.— 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 village, p. 87, pi. 47. — The "big canoe" — Medicine-lodge — A strange medley, p. 88. — Mode of depositing the dead on scaflfolds, p. 89. — llespect to the (lead — 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, 58, 53. — Personal appearance — Peculiarities — Complexion, p. 93. — "Cheveux gris, p. 94. — Hair of the men — Hair 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 — Higli value set upon them — Two horses for a head-dress — Made of war-eagle's 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 at the operation of the Author's brush, p. 105.— The Author instoUed 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 a Mandan doctor, or medicine-man, and how brought over, p. 110, pi. 55. f V VI LETTER— No. Ifi, Manimn Villaoe. An Indian henii or ilondy. \t. Ui.— A fniitl..«s I'lidenvour to puinl one, p. ll:J.— Muli-to- toh-pn (thufour boars), sticond oliU'f of tlu« tribe— The Author fuuiited in hid wiKwani, p. Ill, pi. (■).;.— Viands of the feast, p. 115.— Pemican and marrow-fut— Maudan pottery — Uobo presented, p. 116. LETTER— No. 17, Man dan Village. Polypnmy— Reasons and excuses for it, p. 118.— Marriages, how contracted— Wives bought and sold, p. liiO. — Paternal and filial aftection — Virtue and modesty of women — Early marriages — Slavish lives and occupations of the Indian women, p. HI. — Pomme blanche — Dried meat — Caches — Modes of cooking, and times of eating — Attitudes in eating, p. 12'^. — Separation of males and females in eating — the Indians moderate eaters — Some exceptions, ]>. l'J3. — Curing meat in the sun, without smoke or salt — The wild Indians eat no salt, p. 124. • LETTER— No. 18, Mandan Village. Indian dancing — " HiifTiilo dance," p. V27, p\.M. — Discovery of buffaloes — Preparations for the chase — Start — A decoy — A retreat — Death and scalping, p. 129. LETTER— No. 19, Mandan Village. Sham fight and sham scalp dance of the Mandanboys.p. 13l,pl. 57.— Game of Tcliung-kee p. 132, pi. 59. — Feasting — Fasting and sacrificing — White buffalo robe — Its value p. 133, pi. 47.— illain makers and rain stoppers, p. 131. — Uain making, p. 135, pi. 38. — " The thunder boat" — The big double medicine, p. 110. LETTER— No. 20, Mandan Village. Mandan archery — " Game of the arrow," p. 141, pi. 60. — Wild horses — Horse-racing, I'.ll t ^A Ml 1' lul Local Oil p. 142, pi. 61. — Foot war-party in council, p. 143, pi. 63. LETTER — No. 21, Mandan Village, Upper Missouri. Mah-to-toh-p», Cthe Four IJears) — His costume and his jtortrait, p. 145, pi. 64. — The robe of Mah-to-toh-pa, 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 canoe — Season of commencing — and manner, p, 158. — Opening the medicine lodge — Sacrifices to the water, p. 159. — Fasting scene for four days and nights, p. 161, pi. 66. — J3el-lohck-nah-pick, (the bull dance), p. 164, pi, 67. — Pobk-hong (the cutting or torturing scene), p. 169, pi. 68.— vii , |). n.).— Mall-to- tod in Inn wigwam, I — Miuidau pottvry ontracted — Wires ideaty of women — I. p. 1«1.— Pomnie ting— Attitudes in US moderate eatera or salt— The wild )e8— Preparations le of Tchung-kee robe— Its value p. 135, pi. 58.— -Horse- 50UUI. racing, 1. 64.— The robe 63. objects of the of commencing R'ater, p. 159. — pick, (the bull 169, pi. 68.— 3 m Kli-ki'-nah-ka-nnli-pick, (the Inst race) p. 17,1, pi. ii<.). — r.xtrnorilinary inttan t>s of [ cruelly in sulf-turture, p. l?.*). — Sarriticiii^ to (he water, \>. I7(i. — (.'iTtificnttis of tho Mundan ceremonies — Inferences drawn Ironi these liorrilile crueltieH, with traditions, p. 177. — rraditiun of U-kee-hee-du (^the F.vil Spirit), p. 179. — .Muiiduns can ho civi- lised, p. lH:i. L1-:TTER— No. 23, MiNATAUiK Vui.aok. Location and numbers — Oripn, p. 185. — IVincipal villii(,'i>, pi. 70.— N'npour baths, pi. 71. — Old chief, niack Moccasin, p. lUti, pi. 72. — Two portraits, man and woman, pis. 7.1, 71. Green corn dance, p. 189, pi. 75. LETTER— No. 24, Minataree Vim.aoe. ('rows, in the IVIinataree village, p. 191. — (Iritvr chief on horseback, in full ilress, p. 191?, pi. 76. — I'eculiarities of the Crows— Long hair — Semi-lunar faces, p. 19;J, pis. 77, 78, — Itats in the Minataree village, p. 195. — Crossing Knife lUverin " bull boat"— Swimming of Minataree girls, p. 196 — llorse-nicir -— A^ianter — Tlidinga " naked horse," p. 197. — Cirand buffalo surround, p. 199, pi. 79. — Cutting up and carrying in meat, p. 'iOl, LETTER — No. 25, Little Mandan Village, Upper MihsouRi. An Indian offering himself for a pillow, p. 203. — Portraits of Riccarees, p. 201, pis. 8.1, 81, 82,81. — Iliccaree village, p.204, pi. 80. — Origin of tho Mauduns — Welsh colony — Kzpedition of Madoc, p. 206-7. LETTER— No. 26, Moutji of Teton Riveu. Sioux or (Dah-co-ta^, p. 208. — Fort Pierre, pi. 85. — Mississippi and Missouri Sioux, p. 209. — Ha-wan-je-tah (chief) p. 211, pi. 86. — Puncahs, Shoo-de-go-cha (chief^ and w'ife, p. 812, pls.87, 88. — Four wives taken at once, p. 213, pi. 90. — i'ortrait of one of the wives, p. 214, pi. 89. — Early marriages — Causes of, p. 215. LETTER— No. 27, Moirni of TtroN River. Custom of exposing the aged, p. 216. — A tedious march on foot, p. Stl8. — Level prairies — " Out of sight of land" — Mirage — Looming of the prairies, p. 218. — Turning the toes in — Uijou hills — Salt meadows, p. 219 — Arrive at Fort Pierr«— CJreat assemblage of Sioux — Paint the portrait of the thief — Superstitious objections — Opposed by the doctors, p. 220.— Difficulty settled— Death of Ha-wan-je-tah (the chieO— Mode of, p. 221.— Por- traits of other Sioux chiefs — Wampum, p. 222-3, pis. 91,92. — iSeautiful Sioux women — Daughter of lllack llock — CImrdoii, his Indian wife, p. 824-5, 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 (iist steamer amongst the Sioux, p. 227. — Dog-feast, |i. 22il, pl. 9»>. ,» I VIII LETTER— No. '29, Mouth or Tetov River. Voluntnry tortur«», " looking at ilm sim," p. V.I'J, pi. !)7. — H«li^'iouB ceremony, p. 0S.1. — >'iiiokin^ " k'nick-k'neck" — I'ipoM, p. V.'H, pi. I'll. — CuliimotH or pipi'H nf puiu'H, p.V.'J.S — Tomnliawka iiiul gcalpiri)^ knives, p. 'i:iS-6, ]>1. 9l>. — Dance of the r'liefa, p. i!\7, pi. UH). — Scalp* — iM rule (if tiikinif, un.- -Run;. ing the huffoloea.und throwinj; the arrow, p. 851, pi. 107. — Hiiflalo chase — Use of the hiso, p. 2.^;l, pi. lOH, 109. — Iluntin); under mn8(|Ue of white wolfskins, p. '2/14, pi. 1 10. — Morses destroyed in buffalo hunting, p. 26.S, pi. 111.— Iluffalo calf — Mode of catching and bringing' in, p. i.W, pi. 112.— Immense and wanton destruction of buffaloes — 1,400 killed, p. 2.')6. — White wolves attackin)^ hulfaloes, p. 2J7-U, pla. 1 \S, 114. — Conti mplationa on the probable extinction of bufTuloea and Indians, p. 250, 2ti4. i .•I !? -. t , S III. •TKmony, p. '2S:l. of poiUH, [1. v.S.S _ '«r«i. p.?.17, |)l. KK). k inn: ami Uiing the Cit. I Hlii..|,l— Smoitiiip ^ w*i I I, ' 'iK''H'nR— liiifrnio anil throwing' tlitt "". >0!).— Hunting i'l bulTiilo hunting, '• s?'5, pi. iia_ 6 — White wolves fobuhle extinction .'^^^ I I 1 ;^II^Wt;■.»(;(«: imtl imdrr nil (>rilii'*<' fiirmnshincr's of f\|»OHiir(', no Imliiiii rvrr lir- ti';iv<' ; wlii>n it in Itoriii; in mind, iim it Nlioidd Im', tlial there in no law in llifir land to pMhiKli ii man for tlicfl — ■ that tli(> commantlincnts liavt> novcr lu'cn divnlp,rd anion|;Ht llictn ; nor rsin nny linniaii rotrihiilinn fall npon (lie licad of a lliiff, Kav<< tlif dis^rat-c wliifli attai'licH lid a sti^:ma to liis rliaiartcr, in tlic tyos of liis |M'o|tlr nliont him. And llms in these little eoimunniiies, straiine as it may seem, in the uh- «onee of all systems «tf jnrisprmlenee, I havt' often hehelil peace and hap- pin«'ss, an- ii'Ufc and Imp- 1 aiitl ciiiiMTnrs iitid wMiins IT- iM i)i liu- siinpli- (I warm ami t'li- vi»li to r()i^;(;l— sc|iara(i()ii li«v« irs to llu! kccp- fori^ivo mc for of llu'so people; •t bleeds for tlie. 1 is loiip; lo 1>« reptiles of tlu5 L! cupidity, it is y, short of tlic 10 tribes of the are on llieir e fast travelling that the travel- iid beauty must tains, or lie will basket of dead lage and colours r moral, or for other than that lli<;iblc mass of ; my readers at fomiveness for iig through the ns) in search of ue character of i\\nt " »tra»;ir iinninnltf" of man in the simple rltineiilH of \\U nature, un- diosolve, il iiill he urn, Iniie Inrii i/iriil, in i^ienl /mif, Id llie liiiliiiii ('oiiiilr'j, 1111(1 injiiiiiiliiiiity iiilh the men unil miiiiiieiii srljoiih in Iha work; CI'IlTiriCATI'S. " I tiprt'hy ciTtifv, tliiit llix |H)rNiiiiH wIiiiho Mi^iiiiliin'M iirc iifFixiMl (o llii< ciTliliciilxN iimimI licltiw, liy Mr. ('mi IN, iiro i)flici>r.i in llic Mi'rvicn ofllic I'nilfil SIiiIi-m, ii.s liiTciii Hi'l I'orlli ; mill lliiil llit'ir ii|iiiiiiiiiH iirilio iicciiriiry uf llm liki>ii*tHsii,-i, iiiiil rorri'ctiKms of lliii vitiWN, Ni'. ••xliiliiti'd liy liiiii in his ' Imiun (iallkiiv, ' iiri< luililli'il to full iicilit, "J. 11. I'OlN.Sr.rr, AVrifMn/ .•/• It'./r, ll',iWiiH^'(i.»." " With ro^nril to tho pfoiitlonicii whoHn niininH nr.sh Htron^nr cliiiiiiM n|iiiii tliK piihlin coiiliili-nctt in tli<< Htiili'iiu'iils they iiiiiki>, ri'M|ic(tlin}; the ciirrKCtniiHH of (l(>liiHMitiunH, 6n\ of Mr, Oam.in'h Indian (iAi.i.Kiiv ; anil I iimy iidil my own tn.ttiinony, with ri'^aril lo iniiiiy of iIionh liiiliiiiiM whom I Imvo him'ii, iind wlio.st< likuiKi.SHeii iirit in thti colluctiun, iiiid Hkutcl.ud with lidtdily and currt'ctiD'ss. "('. A. IIAIIRIS, Commis$ioiiir of Iniliiin Ajjiiiri, IVnJiiniflon," " I Imve Hflon Mr.C^ATi.iN's Collection of 1'ortniit.sof Indinii.s.cnstof (ho Rocky iMoiintainH, miiiiy of which wcri< fiiiiiiliur to me, iind pnintod in my |ir(lican I'awiioo.s, I'awiioo Loiips, 'lappaf^o I'awiiGos, O'.oos, Oinalmws, and Missourie.s, wliicli aro in Mr. Caii.in's Indun (Jai.i.kuv, wero j>aiiiliMl from lifo liy Mr. (ii.o. Cmi.in, and that the iridi- vidunis sut to liiai in the costuino.f pri'iiscly i" which thoy aro painted, "J. DOIMJIIKUI'V, l.A.Jor I'awnecs, O imhaws, iiint Utoes. " New York, IIW. .1. CIAM T." " I haveseon ftlr. Cati.in's CoUoctioii of Indian Portraits, many of which wore familiar to ino, and ]>aintt. MOHHISON, Cnpt. kh Inft. II. WHARTON, 'M F.ieut. C.ih Inft. .1. i^. IIA 1 llAWA V, '.M l.ieut 1st Art. F. WKKDON, Assistant Surgeon. i'iir( l\J(ii((t»((', Jiin. 'Jo, llioU." " Ilaviuf,' examined Air. Catmn's Collection of Po-Iraits of Indians of tho Missouri to the llocky Mountains, I have no hesilalion in ])ronouiiciii<; them, so far as 1 am aeiinainted with the individuals, to he the best I have ever seen, both as reifards (lu^ expression of coiiiitenauce, and the exact and complete uiuimer in which tlie cosluiuo has been painted by him. "J. I.. BEAN, S. Agent for lii,li,iii Afuirs." "I have been for many years past in familiar acquaintance witli the Indian tribes of the I'pper Missouri to the Uocky iMouisains, and also with the landscape and other scenes represented in Mr. Cati.in's Collection ; and it -rives mo f,'reat ideasure to assure the world, that on lookiii',' them over, I found tho likenesses of my old friends easilv to be recoi^nized ; and his sketches of Manners and Customs to he pourtrayed with siii'Milar truth and correctness. ".I. PILCIIEH, .(_i,'c»t/vn with gnat ijdelilv as to character and likeness. " II. SClIOOLCUAt'T, hiiti^ni A'^tul Jor Wincousin Tvr nU'ni, loiiiitiiiiiM, miiiiy !i strorijj; losciu- I'S, '\ , liiifidii AjU'iit. ibliciin PiiwiicM's, liicli am in Mr. iml tliiit till- indi- l(l/l(ll('S, (!»(/ OlVC!l> ■liw<>r(' fiiniiliar to Im };n'alt'r |iarl ot du not lu'sitate lu skclclips of tlic'ir llii) Missouri and I of Yellow Sloiie." Mr. C\ri.iN'» (lAi.- idiaiis sat or stood esses aro rriiiark- l,i('Ut, (>lli I II ft. staiit Sui'Kt'ou. th<> Missouri to I am a<'(|uaiiiti>d i(( cxprt'ssioii of lias Iji'i'ii (tainted ir liiiliiin A[J\nrs." Indian tribes of sca|ie and other leasure to assure friends easilv to lyed with siii-^ulur Missouri Iiutidiis." m 13 '• Hnvinf^ lived and dealt with the lUack Feet Indians for five years past, I was enabled to recoffnize even) one >.f the Portraits of those people, luul of the Crows also, which Mr. Cati.in has in his Collection, from the faithful likuudSHoa they bore to the orit,'imiln. " St. Louis, ia3.S. " .1. K. IJKAZKAII." ' llrtvinp spent sixteen years in the continual acquaintance with the Indians of thSi u \-: 1833. Stone," after a ■ two thousand itedby sicam; lly oppoti' the ercome by the •severance, and jntleman I am I >ad also the rernment agent jtection against bastions armed ontinued rear of righted savages ind picturesque so uany novel the numerous the puffing of many epis-tles ; iving you some messing ; and of nger travelling and luxuriom, the savages to le presented to Lvers' tails, and id on the receipt and still more and practice of ite region, 3500 lished me with figuT-e, exactly enjoyments of y^y ;i '■■jrtiiilihfaxs 1; those conditions, on which alone I was induced to pursue the art as a pro- 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 spur to the arts, where artists ?,re associates togethej : 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 always fed the warmest feelings of my bosom, and shut half the avenues to my heart against the specious refinements of the accomplished world. This feeling, together with the desire to study my art, independently of the embarrassments which the ridiculous fashions of civilized society have thrown in its way, has led me to the wilderness for a while, as the true school of the art? I have for a long time been of opinion, that the wilderness of 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 1 have immersed myself in the midst of thousands 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 inmriated 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 acquire by this toilsome and expensive undertaking, I have another in view, which, if it should not be of ecjual service to me, will be of no less / • I if K If : i ijiil 16 interest and value to posterity. 1 iiave, 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. Their rights invaded, their morals corrupted, their lands wrested from them, their customs changed, and therefore lost to the world; ai.d they at last runk into the earth, and the ])l()u.ihsharo turning the sod over their graves, and I have flown to thtir 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 painter's palette," and live again upon canvass, and stand forth for centuries 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 the purpose of procuring portraits of distinguished Indians, of both 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 respective 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 which to judge of the original inhabitants of this noble race of beings, who require but a few years more of the march of civilization and death, to deprive them of all their native customs and character. I 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 me in so arduous an undertaking. 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 physiognomy and phrenology, of their manners and customs, rites, ceremonies, &c.; and the opportunity of examining the geology and mineralogy of tliis western, and yet unex- plored country, will enable me occasionally to entertain you with much new and interesting information, which I shall take equal pleasure in communi- cating by an occasional Letter in my clumsy way. 17 contcmpliitcd •acklcss forests zation. Tlieir im them, their y at last runk : their graves, race (for they ooks and their son and every lem to death ; i palette," and to come, the re designed to be spared ; for f both sexes in ith pictures of eremonies, &c. ans. my labours will else left from )f beings, who iath, to deprive Kindly supplied ' of War, with idian agent on cilities in their n undertaking. ibes of human art, of drawing id phrenology, le opportunity ind yet unex- ^ith much new ! in communi- LETTER— No. 3. MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE. Since the date of my former Letter, I have been so much engaged in the amusements of the country, and the use of my biush, that I have scarcely been able to drop you a line until the present moment. Before I let you into the amusements and customs of this delightful country, however (and which, as yet, are secrets to most of the world), I must hastily travel with you over the tedious journey of 2000 miles, from St. Louis to this place ; over which distance one is obliged to pass, before he 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 2,000 miles, the Missouri, with its boiling, ti".l-;d waters, sweeps off, in one unceasing current; 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 ov 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. By placing a piece of silver (and afterwards a piece of shell, which is a much whiter substance) in a tumbler of this wat'^r, and looking through the side of the glass, I ascer- tained 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 othei seasons ; though it is always muddy and yellow, and from its boiling 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 1,000 miles above St. Louis, the shores of this river (and, 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. - ] if i! iiifv i iiP 18 falling banks and cast into the stream ; their roots Ijecoming fastened in tlie bottom of the river, with their tops floating on the surface of the water, and pointing down the stream, forming the most frightful and discouraging prospect for the adventurous voyageur. (See plate 4.) Almost every island and sand-bar is covered with huge piles of these floating trees, mid when the river is flooded, its surface is almost literally covered with floating raft and drift wood ; which bids 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 appropriate or innocent than to call it the River of 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, where the mighty forests of stately cotton wood stand, and frown in horrid dark and coolness over the fdthy abyss below ; into which they are ready to plunge headlong, when the njud and soil in which they were germed and reared has been washed out from underneath them, and is with the rolling current mixed, and on its 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 the current holds its stiff and onward, turbid character. It has been, heretofore, very erroneously reoresented 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, I was most of the time rivetted to the deck of the boat, indulging my eyes in the boundless and tireless pleasure of roaming 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 m and \i: look -I It 10 i; 1 \ jnjffij Vv^nj h tlicy fearlessly (Ic ; he sullenly frowns away tlie J bounding over [1 beast. for 2,000 miles, or three months, steamer has re- he tribes in this t. Louis; which jtory and curious ind when I have then undertake to J, which I can in ever literally and lie appearance of r by their villages miles, had never they seemed at a the Dutch did at iw-mill — and they them), which is We had on board swivels, which we of Yellow Stone; ired several times ;er confusion and and cried to the d them to appease me deserted their nt ; and others, in came with great ate or their chiefs ; iroach us, whether ght, they were in- d shoulders — men, ng— allin a mass, pe, which the cap- nusement. men, with regard he Mandans, son.e below the village, \ <^' f ~* said they, " it sees its own way, and takes the deep water in the middle of tho i'liannel." They had no idea of the hoat hciii'^ stceri-d by \\w man at the wheel, and well they m i;ht have been astonished at its takiui; the (hiepest water. I may (if I do not forget it) hereafter give you an account of some other cinious incidents of this kind, which we met with in this voyage ; for we met niany, and some of them were really laughable. Tlie Fort in which I am now residing was built by Mr. M'Kcnzie, who now occupies it ; and it is the largest and best-built establishment of the kind on the river, being the great or principal head-(|uarters and depot 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 concentrate here with the returns of their season's trade, and refit out with a fresh supply of goods to trade with the Indians. The site for the Fort is well selected, being a beautiful prairie 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'Kcnzie is a kind-hearted and I.igh-minded Scotchman: and seems I to have charge of all the I'ur Companies' business in this region, and from Jthis to the Rocky Mountains. He lives in good and comfortable stylo, (inside of the Fort, which contains some eight or ten log-houses and stores, 'and Kas generally forty or fifty men, and one hundred and fifty horses about him. He has, with 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 coft'ee, tans bread and butter. Good cheer and good living wc 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 the 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 little 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 whose free and familiar acquaintance with the manners and men of his country ^ve 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. •^1 ■ ^-M 22 We three bons oivants form the group about the dinner-table, of which I have before spoken, and crack our jokes and fun over the bottles of Port and Madeira, which 1 have named ; and a considerable part of which, this 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 in these regions, who are continually concentrating 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 w'*h my brush ; we have now around us the Knisteneaux, Crows, Assinneboins and Blackfeet, and in a few days are to have large acces- sions. The finest specimen 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 this region, are the Ojibbeways, the Assinneboins, Knisteneaux, Blackfeet, Crows, Shiennes, Grosventres, Mandans, and others ; of whom and their customs, their history, traditions, costumes, &c., I shall in due season, give you fur- ther and minute accounts. ^> !/ i 2:3 -table, of which I le bottles of Port »art of which, this 1 his own country. )f Indian tribes in or the purpose of mass. There are d I am continually listeneaux. Crows, have large acces- hese regions; and ir respective coun- looks and peculiar interesting Letter. )y my visit to this , Blackfeet, Crows, md their customs, ion, give you fur- LETTER— No. 4. MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE. The several tribes of Indians inhabiting the regions of the Upper Missouri; 4 and of whom I spoke in my last Letter, are undoubtedly the finest looking, llbest equipped, and most beautifully costumed of any on the Continent. I'Thcy live ia a country well-stocked with buffaloes and wild liorses, which I furnisli them an excellent and easy living ; their atmosphere is pure, which J* produces good health and long life; and they are the most independent and the happiest races of Indians I have met with : they are all entirely in a ' state of primitive rudeness and wildness, and consequently are picturesque 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 ,itheir dress and manners, and enjoying life to the greatest perfection. Of Buch tribes, perhaps the Crows and Blackfeet stand first; and no one would he 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. 1 will do uU I can, however, to make their looks as well as customs known to the world; I will paint with my brush and scribble with my pen, and bring tlicir 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 a lord — Iiis 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, arme( vith 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. h 1 1:; I 24 The bufTalo liertls, which graze in ahnost countless numbers on these beautiful prairies, afford them an abundance of meat ; and so much is it preferred to all other, that the deer, l^e 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 the 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, Avhich 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 fnghtful 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, that M'Kenzie's table from day to day groans under the weight of buffalo tongues and beavers' tails, and other luxuries of ♦his 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-house 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, ^ numbers on these and so much is it ritelope sport upon ndians seldom kill > (or more correctly vast prairies, from ♦he north. Their .nd their flesh of a beef. Their flesh, le vast regions the ! almost 'exclusively to the construction the most formidable [ to resistance ; his eck and shoulders, ). The cow is less d and frightful in is spirited and thril- )u a minute account s to see the fun, and horse by their sides, fexpressions of these ;he canvass. ance, while at full nes afford the most lat can possibly be oined in yesterday, le company or aid 1 day to day groans d other luxuries of louse, in which he ; and sometimes, five or six of his e leads the party, amongst his whole a light and short >ad whilst his horse ling, which caused ihful look over the >k the lead, and I, A: ^^y , --"•••■•" " ^ 8 .iryfrsAC:. i '■$ i;,i: 25 and then Mons. Chaudon, and Batiste, Defonde and Tullock (wlio is a trader amongst tlie 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. \s we were mounted and ready to start, M'Kenzie called up some four or five of his men, and told them to start immediately on our trail, with as , many one-horse carts; which they were to harness up, to 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 bluff has just told us by his signals, that there are cattle aplenty on that spot, ; id we are going there as fast as possible." We all crossed the river, and galloped away a couple of miles or so, whe.i we mounted the bluff; and to be sure, as was said, there was in full view of us •a fine herd of some four or five hundred buffaloes, perfectly at rest, and in Jtheir own estimation (probably) perfectly secure. Some were grazing, and ;|others were lying down and sleeping; we advanced within a mile or so of Ithem 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 ,',i** 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 ■iincumbrance in running): hats are laid off, and coats — and bullet pouches; Jsleeves are rolled up, a handkerchief tied lightly around the head, and Janother around the waist — cartridges are prepared and placed in the waist- |coat pocket, or a half dozen bullets " throwed into the mouth," &c., &c., %11 of which takes up some ten or fifteen minutes, and is not, in appearance |lr in effect, unlike a council of war. Our leader lays the whole plan of the lehase, and preliminaries all fixed, guns charged and ramrods in our hands, ■iire mount and start for the onset. The horses are all trained for this busi- J|€ss, and seem to enter into it with as much enthusiasm, and with as restless i| spirit as their 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, lintil they discover us and run), they all seem to have caught entirely the ifjpint of the chase, for the laziest nag amongst them prances with an elasti- fity in his step — champing his bit— his ears erect — his eyes strained out of ibis head, and fixed upon the game before him, whilst he trembles under the Ajaddle of his rider. In this way we carefully and silently marched, until ?ithin some forty or fifty rods ; when the herd discovering us, wheeled and lid their course in a mass. At this instant we started ! (and all must start, jfor no one could check the fury of those steeds at that moment of excite- (lent,) and away all sailed, and over the prairie flew, in a cloud of dust which ms raised by their trampling hoofs. M'Kenzie was foremost in the throng |nd soo!i dashed off amidst the dust and was out of sight— he was after the litest and the fastest. 1 had discovered a huge bull whose shoulders 2») •' i!' ,: ii I i towered above the whole band, and I picked my way through the crowd to get alongside of him. I went not for " meat," but for a trophy ; I wanted his head and horns. I dashed along through the thrnderingmass, as they swept away over the plain, scarcely able to tell whether I was on a buffalo's back or my horse — hit, aod hooked, and jostled about, till at length I found myself alongside of my gaine, whta I gave him a shot, as I passed him. I saw guns flash in several directions about me, but I heard them not. Amidsi the trampling throng, Mons. Chardon had wounded a stately bull, and at this moment 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 gun, when the bull instantly turned and receiving the horse upon I.is horns, and the ground received poor Chardon, 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 my 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 hie ■ no, hie- no no, I believe not- Oh! this is not much, Mons. Cataline — this is nothing new— but this is a damned hard piece of ground here — hie — oh, 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 he, with a hie and a ngh — ugiik ! sprang upon his feet — shook off the dirt — and here we were, ail upon our legs again, save the bull, whose fule had been more sad than that of either. I turned my eyes in the direction where the herd had gone, and our com- panion.. \u 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 right, however, I beheld my huge victim endeavouring 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 oeemed 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, break'ng one of his shoulders, and lodging in his breast, and from his very great weiulit i it was impossible for him to make much advance upon me. As I rodej up within a few paces of him, he would bristle up with fury enough in his looks 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, laid my gun across my lap, and commenced taking his likeness. He stood stiffened up, and swelling with awful -v^ ';! irough the crowd to tropliy ; 1 wanted his ; mass, as they swept n a buffalo's back or iigth I found mysoll' passed him. I saw em not. Amidsi the >ly bull, and at this 1 for another shot; of the muzzle of my lorse upon Lis horns, I frog's leap of some md almost under my ^«|jj.^^^ md rode back, where . within a few paces of the horse lying across himself on his hands, gun, which lay about you hurt, Chardon ?" no, is is not much, Mons. ard piece of ground but in a few moments hich then opened its 3n his feet— shook off re the bull, whose fate d gone, and our com- Tior indication, except ittle distance on tliu ng to make as much und, upon three legs. around — and bristled could not escape from jly as possible, forward, break "ng one his very great weight upon me. As I rode with fury enough in and making one lunge found the sagacity of danger : and I drew y lap, and commenced swelling with awful 10 Myi~:iC'.;c.. n ^1 1 f I ,1 , 1 II i ' I 1 ■I iJ .' 27 vengeance, which was sublime for a picture, but v jlipon me. I rode around him and sketched him .x•..^^ lie could not vent me. 1 roue arounci mm anu sKeicneu mm .n numerous attitudes, jiometimcs he would lie down, and I would then sketch him; then throw my leap at him, and rouaing him on his legs, rally a new expression, and sketch Ihim again. In this way I added to my sketch-hixjk some invaluable sketches of this Igrini-visaged monster, who knew not that he was standing for his likeness. No man on earth can imafjine what is the look and expression of such a subject before him as this was. I defy the world to produce another animal that can look so frightful as a huge buffalo bull, when wounded as he was, turned around for battle, and swelling with raf • — his eyes bloodshot, and his long shaggy mane hanging to the grc —his mouth open, and his horrid rage hissing in streams of smoke and blood from his mouth and thro'.gh 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'Kenzie and his companions came walking their exhausted horses back Ifrom the chase, and in our rear came four or five caits to carry home the ■ineat. 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 fora few ,4w>'""t6S> ^^^^ 0"G took a smoke of the pipe, and recited his exploits, and »his "coups" or deaths; when all parties had a hearty laugh at me, as a inovice, for having aimed at an old bull, whose *lesh was not suitable for food, ' iiand the carts were escorted on the trail, to bring away the Mieat. I rode llback with Mr. M'Kenzie, who pointed out five cows which he had killed, and all of them selected as the fattest and slickest of the herd. This astonishing feat was all performed within the distance of one mile — all were Itilled at full speed, and every one shot through the heart. In the short space fcf 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 killed at every shot ! There were six or eight others killed at the same time, which altogether 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 ;|l:arcasses left a prey for the wolves. ■K Such is the mode by which white men live in this country — such the way Ijin which they get their food, and such is one of their delightfid amusements ft — at the hazard of every bone in one's body, to feel the fine and thrilling ': exhilaration of the chase for a moment, and then as often to upbraid and '^ blame himself for his folly and imprudence. i| Erom this scene we commenced leisurely wending our way back ; and ^dismounting at 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 ihe sat ; and we rode back to the Fort, reciting as we rode, and for twenty- four hours afterwards, deeds of chivalry and chase, and hair's-breadth escapes 28 Ulill, I which each and cither had fonpht and run on former occasions. M'Kcnzie, witli all tiio tii'c cliaracter, and dignity of a leader, was silent on these subjects ; but smiled, while those in his train were reciting for him the astonishing and r.lmost incredible deedi of his sinewy arms, which they had witnessed in similar scenes ; from which I learned (as well as from my own observations), that he was reputed (and actually was) the most distinguished of all the white men who had flourished in those regions, iu the pursuit and death of the buffalo. 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'iiste, D^fonde, Chardon, &c., retired to their quarters, enlarging smoothly uj)on 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 ca.ts and packhorses laden with buffalo meat made its entree ; gladdening the hi nrts of a hundred women and children, and tickling the noses of as many hungry dogs and puppies, who were stealing in and smelling at the tail of the procession. The door of the ice-house was thrown open, the meat was discharged into it, aud I being fatigued went to sleep. IM ill fell H ' !:■:[(. a:c.i %.. 'W 4 jAsions. M'Kcnzie, was silent on these ceiling for liim the y arms, which they cd (as well as from lally was) the most in those regions, in 6 set forth upon the /ere soon moistened, &c., retired to their •ning's work ; which about this time the :a.ts and packhorses h( irts of a hundred y hungry dogs and the procession. The charged into it, and 11 ztUn MyirsUC'sc 1 I t|! h !' ' ii f « i ^.. 29 LETTER— No. rt. MOUTH OF VKLLOW STONE. In my former epistlfi I told you there were encamped about tlio Fort a host of wild, incontyruous spirits — chiefs uiid sacliems — warriors, braves, and women and children of diHerent tribes — of Crows and lilackfuet — Ojibbe- Ways — Assinncboins— and Crces or Knisteneaux. Amongst and in the midst of them am 1, with my paint pots and canvass, snugly ensconced in one of l^c bastions of the Fort, which I occupy as a painting-room. My easel l^ands before me, and the rcol breech of a twelve-pounder makes nie a Comfortable seat, whilbt her muzzle is looking out at one of the port-holes. The operations of my brush ue mysteries of the highest order to these red ions of the prairie, and my rdom the earliest and latest place of concentration of these wild and jealous spirits; who all meet here to be amused, and pay ype signal honours ; but gaze upon each other, sending their sidelong looks of deep-rooted hatred and revenge around the group. However, whilst in JHie Fort, their weapons are placed within the arsenal and naught but looks ijid thoughts can be breathed here; but death and grim destruction will ▼isit back those looks upon each other, when these wild spirits again are 'loose and free to breatiio and act upon the plains. I have this day been painting a portrait of the head chief of the Black- fiiot nation ; he is a good-looking and dignified Indian, about fifty years of age, and superbly dressed (plate 11) ; whilst silting for his picture he has been surrounded by his own braves and warriors, and also gazed at by his •nemies, the Crows and the Knisteneaux, Assinncboins and Ojibbeways ; a number of distinguished personages of each of which tribes, have laid all day around the skies of my room : reciting to each other the battles they have fouglit, and pointing to the scalp-locks, worn as proofs of their fictories, 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 combustible materials, brought together, unarmed, for the first time in f heir lives; peaceably and calmly recounting over the deeds of their lives, nd smoking their pipes upon it, when a fe-v weeks or days will bring them i^n the plains again, where the war-cry will be raised, and their deadly bows flwill again be drawn on each other. m The name of this dignitary, of whom I liave just spoken, is Stu-mick-o- 'feucks (the bufFaloe's back fat) i.e. the "hump" or "fleece," the most |delicious part of the bulialo's Hesh. 1 have also painted, of the Blackfeet, ■;.,i^.,ar.Aj,.:-t.,>--.j.i^c. ,.:,,,.»,.„.., 30 p y ^«^w V'wflB ' ' ^ ,'»,' ' Pc-toh-pee-kiss (the eagle ribs), and Mix-kc-mote-skin-na (tlie iron horn), 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, perhaps, 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; ihougli there is a distinctive mode in each tribe, of stitching or ornamenting with the porcupine quills, which constitute one of the principal ornaments to all their fine dresses; and which can be easily recognized, by any one a little familiar Avith their modes, as belonging to such or such a tribe. The dress, for instance of the chief whom I have just mentioned, arid whose portrait I have just painted, consists of a shirt or tunic, made of tv.' deer skins finely dressed, and so placed together with the necks of the skins downwards, and the skins of the hind legs stitched together, the seams running down on each arm, from the neck to the ..nuckles of tlie hand ; this seam is covered with a band of two inches in width, of very beautiful embroidery of porcupine quills, and susp<. iided from the under edge of this, from the shoulders to the hands, is a fringe of the locks of black liair, which he has taken from the heads of victims slain by his own hand in battle. The leggings are made also of the same material ; and down tlie 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-kim (the crystal stone), I have also placed upon my canvass (plate 13); her countenance is rather pleasing, which is an uncommon thing amongst the Blackfeet — hei dress is made of skins, and being the youngest of a bevey of six or eight, and the last one tai en under his gur.rdianship, was smiled upon with great satisfac- tion, whilst he exempted 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 o.*" age, and too young as yet to have acquired a namC; has stood forth like a tried warrior; and I have painted him at fuU length (plate 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 become; hereditary chief of the tribe. This bey has been twice stolen away by the Crows by ingenious stratagems, and twice re-captured by the Blackfeet, at considerable sacrifice of life, and at present he is lodged with Mr. M'Kenzie, for safe keep- ing and protection, until he shall arrive at the proper age to take the ofliie to which lie is to succeed, and to protect himself. •na (the iron horn), -sa-ko-mah-pee (the , and half-a-dozen 3S more comfortably, the tribe of Crows. or elegance of their •e formed; Ihougii ing or ornamentins; principal ornaments recognized, by any to such or such a ive just mentioned, rt or tunic, made of th the necks of the tched together, tlie the ..nuckles of Uie s in width, of very from the under edge the locks of lihick 1 by his own hand prial; and down the also a similar band iner, with porcupine are procured from crystal stone), I ntenance is rather vfeet — her dress is or eight, and the with great satisfac- amp ; and keeping id guarded her as a boy of six yenrs s stood forth like LATE 12), with his The history of dead and in case ecomt^ hereditary by the Crows by ■et, at considerable nzie, for safe keep- to take the ofliie ■I I Hi i: 31 The scalp of which I spoke above, is procured by cuttin!?out a piece of the skin of the head, the iize of the pahn of the hand or less, con- tain iug the very centre or crown of the head, the place where he hair fadiates from a point, and exactly over what the phrenologists call seif- «steem. 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, {L'e. after it 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 listened to the handle of a lance, or the end of a war club, or divided into a Jfreat 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 ipiatter to purchase them of the Indian, tor they often hold them above all j^ice. I shall hereafter take occasion to speak of the scalp dance ; describing jl in all its parts, and giving along Letter, at the same time on scalps and icalping, an intercbting and general custom amongst all the North Ameri- can Indians. . In the chief's dress, which I am describing, there are his moccasins, made ilso of buckskin, and ornamented in a corresponding manner. And over all, jbis robe, made of the skin of a young buffalo bull, with the hair remaining on ; |ind on the inner or flesh side, beautifully garnished with porcupine quills, iind the battles of his life very ingeniously, though rudely, pourtrayed in picto- rial representations. In his hand he holds a very beautiful pipe, the item of which is four or five feet long, and two inches wide, curiously wound Urith braids of the porcupine quills of various colours ; and the bowl of the |Spe ingeniously carved by himself from apiece of red steatite of an interest- ing character, and which they all tell me is procured somewhere between this ]^ace and the Falls of St. Anthony, on the head waters of the Mississippi. This curious stone has many peculiar «;[ualities, and has, undoubtedly, but dne origin in this country, and perhaps in the world. It is found but in the kands 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 jjot a number of most remarkable traditions and stories relating to the *' sacred quarry ;*' of pilgrimages performed there to procure the stone, and liOf curious transactions that have taken place on that ground. It seems, jlfrom all I can learn, that all the tribes in these legions, and also of the ^Mississippi and the Lakes, have been in the habit of going to that place, and ecting their enemies there, whom they are obliged to treat as friends, mder an injunction of the Great Spirit. So then is this sachem (the buffalo's back fat) dressed; and in a very tjgimilar manner, and almost the same, is each of the others above named ; |and all arc armed with bow and quiver, lance and shield. These north ^''-v^-%,^^- ■-< -.■"- ;-■' 3-2 iJii western tribes arc all armed with the bow and lance, and protected with tlie shield or arrow fender, which 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 oi 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", ana on their backs, at full speed, they can come alongside of any animal, which they can 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 part 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 it, and give it great elasticity. There are very many also (amongst the Blaokfeet 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 procuied several very fine specimens, and when pur- chasing them have inquiicd of the Indians, what bone they were made o(l and in every instance, tiie 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 lenjitli, 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 Blackfect and Crows, who manufacture it into these bows without knowing any more than we do, from what source it has been procured. protected with the eft arm, exactly as ame purpose, equipment of these : literally always oi isperate effect upon speed, and contend prevailing custom at plains or prairies ndance of wild and , at full speed, they stroy. larently an insigni- power in the hands bituated to its use )ut three feet, and ). They have, no compass possible, in one of greater or of "bois d'arc" of buffalo or deer's it great elasticity, the Crows) which lin-sheep. Those in this country or two horses, vance my opinion e they are used and when pur- y were made oi'l meaning that it uestioned about the bone of any tween this place feet in length, -as white, and de from the elks' md porous : nor that the Indians le sperm whale, 3 into the moun- re it into these urce it has been ei J£ii,rgJiC* se w 33 One cf these little bows iiithe Iraiuls of an Indian, on a fleet and well- trained horse, with a quiver of F iws slung on his back, is a most effective and powerful weapon in the open plains. No one can easily credit the force with vhich these missiles are thrown, and the sanguinary efT.cts produced by their wounds, until he has rode by the side of a party of Indians in chase of a herd of buffaloes ; and witnessed the apparent ease and grace with which their supple Jirms 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, M they are now chiefly furnished by the Fur Traders quite to the Rocky Mountains (plate 18, rf). The quiver, which is uniformly carried on the back, ilHd made of the panther or otter skins (plate 18, e), is a magazine of these is really superb, almost literally covered with scalp-locks, of savage and civil. I have painted him at full length, with a bead-dress made entirely ol 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 liand ; of lances I have spoken, — but " medicint- bags" and "medicine" will be the text for my next Letter. Besides the chiefs and warriors above-named, I have also transferred tu my canvass the "looks and very resemblance" of an aged chief, wliu combines with his high office, the envied title of mystery or medicine-maii, i. e. doctor — magician — prophet — soothsayer — jongleui — and liigh 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 tambour, in which are concealed the hidden and sacred mysterih of his healing art. And there is also In-ne-o-cose, the iron horn (plate 16), at full lengtli 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 tlu mountain-goats' skin, and her robe of the young buffalo's hide. &.c» exactly arc now in the prairie, armed e pictiires(iue and ngover tliesu- gri'cii , of equal minibeis, )uld be, could tlicy if own superiority; name of white man sngth with him, is rs of white man's dred instruments of from him with fear irage wither, at the inks may war and ; of this Letter, am another of whom TE 14). This man is 3ugh not a chief, iu' [ps, which he says In iwn hand. His dress of savage and civil, } made entirely ol of wearing horiiv a very curious one, extraordinary men say more in a future a lance and two —but " medicine- also transferred tu a aged chief, wli y or medicine-maii, — and high priest, 3n as "Sir Oracle iry is Wun-nes-tou, esents his mystery- nd sacred niysterie> 16), at full lenctli 1 ; and Ah-kay-ee autiful dress of tli hide. &.c» 15 "4- Jt/erji-C'x. i^ I ' !( ,Ov!»)!>„,'j -Ut ^ife^ ^•t. - g<-, ' -1 ' .' ' - x>;:-^ ^1 ;n 1 ,-^"^f 1 • /' ; I '■i''^' '"i "'''"*'" rVv. i? t->. ffl pOCIIH, In t bnivc, I mciit reprcsc owious I IT) explain due op ptst. that on tltelnd •tt|)er3t the' nothinp; on Indi the languag try is fi to be s tually aj and An have eas convey i I d-priests, r-- lionis Now for mcdiciiios or mysteries — for doctors, pociis, wilclicraft, and iiiiiiiial maj^netisni ! In till' last Letter I spoke of Pe-toh-pce-kiss (the eagle ribs), a Blackfoot brave, whose portrait I liad just painted at full length, in a splendid dress. I mentioned also, that he held two medicino-bags in his hand ; as they are represented in the pictnre ; both of them made of the skins of otters, and coriously ornamented with ermine, and other strange things, I must needs stop liere — my painting and every thing else, until I can explain tiie word " medicine," and •' medicine-bcuj ;" and also some medi- due operations, 'vhich I have seen transacted 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 of it, whilst he is scanning and estimating the Indian character; which is made up, in a great degree, of mysteries and superstition. '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, the 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 are aids and handmaids in their practice. Yet it was necessary to give the word or phrase a still more comprehensi.e meaning — as there were many personages amongst them; and also amongst, the li|ite men who visit the country, who could deal in mysteries, though •11 skilled in the application of drugs and medicines ; and they all range new, under the comprehensive and accommodating phrase of " medicine- men." For instance, I am a " medicine-man" of the highest order amongst D 'i n I 3G 'if ^1 these miperstitious people, on account of tlie art which I practice ; wliicli is a strange and unaccountable thing to them, and of course, called the greatest of " medicine." My gun and pistols, which have pcicussion-locks, are great medicine ; and no Indian can be prevailed on to fire them uti, for they say they have nothing to do with white man's medicine. The Indians do not u^.e the word medicine, however ; but in each trib, they have a word of their own construction, synonimous with mystery ot mystery-man. The "medicine-bag" then, is a mystery-bag; and its meaning and impoi. tance n cessary to be understood, as it may be said to be the key of Indiai) life and Indian character. These bags are constructed of the skins ci animals, of birds, or of reptiles, and ornamented and preserved in a thoiisain! dilferent ways, as suits the taste or freak of the person who constructs tlicni, These skins are generally attached to some part of the clothing of the India:]. or carried in his hand — they are oftentimes decorated in such a manner a- to be exceedingly ornamental to his person, and always are stuffed \,iii grass, or moss, or something of the kind ; and generally without drugs o; nu'dicines within them, as they are religiously closed and scaled, and seldom, if cvei, to be opened. I J that every Indian in his primitive state, carrii^ his medicine-bag in some form or other, to which he pays the groiitc! homage, and to which he looks f:.r safety and protection through life — aii in fact, it might almost be called a species of idolatry ; for it would sccni i: some instances^ as if he actually worshipped it. Feasts are often made, an, (logs and horses sacrificed, to a man's medicine; and days, and eve weeks, of fasting and penance of various kinds are often suffered, to appeay his medicine, which he imagines he has in some way offended. Tliis curious custom has principally been done away with along the frontier where white men laugh at the Indian for the observance of so ridiculoii and useless a form: but in this country it is in full force, and every nial in tho tribe carries this, his supernatural charm or guardian, to whic: he looks for the preservation of his life, in battle or in other danger; ? which times it would be considered ominous of bad luck and an ill fatei: he without it. The manner in which this curious and important article is instituted this : a boy, at the age of fourteen or fifteen years, is said to be makiiiijf " forming his medicine," when he wanders away from his father's lodge, at absents himself for the space of two or three, and sometimes even four five, days; lying on the ground in some remote or secluded spot, cryin;: the Great Spirit and fasting the whole time. During this period of pe; and abstinence, when he falls asleep, the first animal, bird, or reptile which he dreams (or pretends to have dreamed, perhaps), he considers i: Great Spirit has designated for his mysterious protector through life. 1' then ; turns home to his father's lo^'ge, and relates his success ; and all al'',iy;iig his thirst, and satiating his appetite, he sallies forth with weapc 'Ci^ practice ; wliidi is course, called the ve percussion-locks, on to fire them ott, ledicine. ; but in each triW us with mystery or meaning and impoi- je the key of Indian ted of the skins oi served in a thousain! vho constructs tlieiii, othingof the Indiiin. n such a manner a- lys are sttifFcd will lly without drugs o; i sealed, and seldom, rimitive state, carrit.' le pays the grcute>' )n througii life — m: for it would seem i, are often made, an: ind days, and eve: suffered, to appeas: "ended. ith along the frontier ince of so ridiculoii' brce, and every niai; guardian, to whic: in other danger; ; ck and an ill fatet irticle IS instituted: said to be makiiis;! is father's lodge, ai: netimes even four- :luded spot, crying;. this period of pw •,], bird, or reptile, ips), he considers r tor through life. F is success ; and all- es forth with weapc 'mi k'L, i r^.vtyi-Vv.i,,, 1 risr ill I , r- 37 traps, until he can procure the animal or bird, the skin of which he "Ireserves entire, and ornaments it according to his own fancy, and carries it with him through hfe, for " good luck" (as he calls it); as his strength in iattle— and in death his guardian Spirit, that is buried with him ; and *hichisto conduct him safe to the beautiful hunting grounds, which he (Bontemplates in the world to come. The value of the medicine-bag to the Indian is beyond all price; for to sell H, or give it away, would subject him to such signal disgrace in his tribe,-tliat 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 battle, and trusts tc it for fats protection ; and if he loses it thus, when fighting ever so bravely for his country, he suffers a disgrace scarcely less than that which occurs in case he tells or gives it away ; his enemy carries it off and displays it to his own feople as a trophy; whilst the loser is cut short of the respect tliat • due to other young men of his tribe, and for ever subjected to the llegrading epithet of " a man without medicine," or " he who has lost his jhedicine;" 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 ■• kand. This done, his medicine is restored, and he is reinstated again in the estimation 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 ■i&nce in his life ; and equally singular that he can reinstate himself by the i^option of the medicine of his enemy ; both of which regulations are strong Snd violent inducements for him to fight bravely in battle : the first, that he Itoay protect and preserve his medicine ; and the second, in case he has been fo unlucky as to lose it, that he may restore it, and his reputation also, while te is desperately contending for the protection of his community. , During my travels thus far, I have been unable to buy a medicine-bag of i;ptn Indian, although I have ofiered 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 he lives. These curious appendages to the persons or wardrobe of an Indian (plate 18,^), 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 that they are hidden under the diess, and very difficult to be found, even if searched for. m ■^^sr 38 mn : r- V .: Such then is the medicine-bag — such its meaning and importa-^-ce ; and when its owner dies, <« is placed in uis grave and decays with his body. In the cas i of the portrait of which I spoke in tlie beginningof this Letter, there are seen two medic'ne-bags in the hand of Pe-toh-pee-kiss ; the one was of his own instituting, -vl the other was taken from his enemy, whom he had slain in battle; both of these he has a right to display and boast of on such an occasion. This is but tbo: beginning or incipient stage of " me- dicines," however, in this strange p.nd superstitious country ; and if you have patience, I will carry you a few degrees further into the mysteries of conjura- tion, before I 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 day? since, and to all of which I was an eye-witness. The scene I will relate as it transpired precisely ; and call it the story of the " doctor," or the " Blackfoot medicine-man." Not many weeks since, a party of Knistcneaux came here from the north, for the purpose of making their summei'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 i". 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 wi"h 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 ami 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 ; t)ie parties, however, were so far apart that little effect was produced ; the Knisteneaux were driven off over the bluffs, having lost one man and had several others wounded. Tlie Blackf:ot and Fronch- lAen tte The tliroul was if the callec applid usole^ 1 medic highe: to pre n^edic script atodw aiid cbress, ndldes vbit t ahd s aire sq .1 importance ; ami vith Iiis body, iningof this Letter, pee-kiss; the one J his enemy, wliom splay and boast of ;nt stage of " nie- y; and if you have rsteries of conjura- util I relate a scene took place in this tness. The scene r of the " doctor," ire from the north, le Fur Company; ies (the same wlio e two belligerent it some weeks here ellowship; unable of the Fort, their lis "arsenal," for cocks. i about the prc- ing tired of their ■dy to start, with them, and they ! farewell. They oved ofF, one of opportunity to hen he fired it at ces, talking wi'h the centre of his id in the agonies eir weapons and aux, who were Fort, also, at so an out, joining painting-room fair view of the skirmish ensued apart that little bluffs, having t and Frcnch- 39 rfien returned into the Fo:t, and then, I saw what I never before saw in my OTe — I saw a " medicine-man " performing his mysteries over a dying man. The man who had been shot was still living, though two bullets had passed through the centre of his body, about two inches apart from each other ; he 1^8 lying on the ground in the agonies of death, and no one could indulge tfce slightest hope of his recovery ; yet the medicine-man mus.t needs be cftlled (for such a personage they had in their party), and hocus pocus applied to him, as the dernier resort, when all drugs and all specifics were useless, and after all possibility of recovery was extinct ! ■ 1 have mentioned that all tribes have their physicians, who are also medicine (or mystery) men. These professional gendemen are worthies of the highest order in all tribes. They are regularly called and paid as physicians, to prescribe for the sick; and many t' them acquire great skill in the ntiSdicinal world, and gain much celebrity in tlieir nation. Their first pre- i6tiptions are roots and herbs, of which they have a great variety of species ; abd when these have all failed, their last resort is to "medicine" or mystery ; tikd for this purpose, each one of them has a strange and unaccountable cbess, conjured up and constructed during a life-time of practice, in the llWdest fancy imaginable, in which he arrays himself, and makes his last l^it to his dying patient, — dancing over him, shaking his frightful rattles, and singing songs of incantation, iu hopes to cure him by a charm. There al^ some instances, of course, where the exhausted patient unaccountably I^overs, under the application of these absurd forms ; and in such cases, Aik ingenious son of Indian Esculapius will be seen for several days after Oifthe top of a wigwam, with his right arm extended and waving over the gjiping multitude, to whom he is vaunting forth, witl.-K i. modesty, the surpri- stog skill he has acquired in his art, and the undoubted eflScacy of his medicine or mystery. But if, on the contrary, the patient dies, he soon cbanges his dress, and joins in doleful lamentations with the mourners; and eiii^y, with his craft, and the ignorance and superstition of his people, ptl6tects his reputation and maintains his influence over them ; by assuring them, that it was the will of the Great Spirit that his p?*ient should die, and ythen sent for, his feeble efforts must cease. Such was the case, and such the extraordinary means resorted to in the ilSitance I am now relating. Several hundred spectators, including Indians alid traders, were assembled around the dying man, when it was announced tlat the ^^medicine-man" was coming; we were required to " form a ring," kaving a space of some thirty or forty feet in diameter around the dying Bian, 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 n^thout touching any one. This being done, in a few moments his arrival was announced by the death-like " hush sh "through the crowd; arid 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 he ■ i: ■AT I 1 i* 40 :•!, ■:!! cautiously and slowly moved through the avenue left for him; which at length brouglit him into the ring, in view of the pitiable object over whom his mysteries were to be perfoimed. 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 the " 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 tlie magic dress of this Indian "big bug" (which I have this day procured in all its parts), placed upon the back of some person who can imitate the strides, and sw Us, the grunts, and spring the rattles of an Indian magician. His entree and his garb weie 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 dangling on h's wrists and ancles; in one hand he shook a frightful rattle, and in the other brandished his medicine spear or niH^ic wand ; to the rattling din and discord of all of whioh, he added the wihl and startling jumps and yelps of the Indian, and the horrid and iip{)alling 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 roiling and groaning in the agonies of death, whilst he wiis 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 surprise of a numerous and death-hke 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 have 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 iDcdicineuse), there are attached to it the skins of many animals, which 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 ar.d tails of birds, — hoofs of deer, goats, and antelopes ; and, in fact, the " odds and ends" and fag ends, and tails, 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 manoeuvres, 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 II ; which at length :t over whom his jf Endor — or you er ranked amongst see my painting of ti of real frightful you must see the lay procured in all imitate the strides, 1 magician, ached the ring with and tilting step— a yellow bear, the a mask ; the huge icles; in one hand i medicine spear or liioh, he added the id the horrid and ear, in ejaculatory s, in behalf of his )f death, whilst lie g him about, and an hour, to the til the man died ; ced up, and tied ind equipments. lities in the whole led in the Indian of the mysteries of ides the skin of the ntry, is out of the nd converted to a als, which are also tnation, medicine; bats, — beaks and les ; and, in fact, almost everything e of his wild and tranffe countrv. ;aries in the tribe, uunity ; not only ^ -^ f 111 1 1 / /, . 91^- 1 l.t\. r-^-Vi -f. •-». - 'V / >- »-Tv .■;! '.;._•• ti U) (kO: Myf«''cC.:s.:. m: hi foil in ha| anf in and aii(| ora will the III ■ii i I lH) '[ . ],. ,i 41 )r tlicir skill in their '< materia mcdica; " but more especially for their tact magic and mysteries, in which they all deal to a very great extent. I shall kave much more to say of these characters and their doings in future epistles, %nd barely observe in the present place, that no tribe is without them ; — that in all tribes their doctors are conjurors — are magicians — are sooth-say ers, 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 the greatest deference and respect is paid to their opinions. ^il I! 11 1!| 42 MilTTKR-No. 7. MOl'Tir OK YIM.I-OW STOM',. •f }\ Till'. Lot liT which I cavo you yosfcniay, on (he; siil)joct of " mcilifiius" niul " mpdicino-iuiMi," hii« soiiunvhiit Itnikcii tlii> " thrciid of my discoiiisd ;'' and left my piiiiilin^-rouin (in the hastioii), and all tiu> Indians in it, and jK)itrails. and Indl'alo linnts, and landscapL's of these beanlifnl lenions, to he taken up and disenssed ; which I will now endeavour to do, beginnin;; jiisl where I h-ft (or dii;r(>ssed) otf. I was seated on the cool breech of a twelve-pounder, and had my easel before me, and Crows and HIaekfect, and Assinneboins, whom I was traeinij upon the canvass. And so 1 have l)een doin;j; to-day, and shall be, for seve- ral days to come. My paintinyi-room has become, so fj;reat a lonn^■e, and I so ijrcat a "medicine-man," that all other aniusements arc left; and all other topics of conversation and 'gossip, are postponed for future considera- tion. The chiefs have had to pl.ice " soldiers " (as they are called) at my door, with spear in hand to protect me from the tlironp;, who otherwise would press upon me ; and none but tlu; worthies are allowed to come into my nu'dicine apartments, and none to be painted, except such as are decided hy the chiefs to be worthy of so hii;h an honour. The Crows and Blackfeet who are here toii;cther, are enemies of the most deadly kind while out on the plains ; but here they sit and smoke (piiilly to<;ether, yet with a stuilied and dignified reserve. The blackfeet are, perhaps, one of the most (if not ontirely the most) numerous and warlike tribes on the ContiiuMit. They occupy the whole ol the country aliout the sources of the Missouri, from this place to the llocky Mountains; ai\d their numbers, from the best computations, are, sonu-ihiiii; like fo'ty or Hfty thousand — they are (like all other tribes whose nimiU'rs are sulKcieutly large to give them boldness) warlike and ferocious, i. c. they arc predatory, are roaming fearlessly about the country, even into and through every part of the Rocky Mountains, and carrying war amongst tluir enemies ; wlio are, of course, every tribe who inhabit the country about them. The Crows who live on the head waters of Yellow Stone, and extend from this neighbourhood also to the base of the llocky Mountains, arc simiiiu' in the above respects to the Blackfeet ; roaming about a great part of the vear — and seeking their enemies wherevir they can Hud them. They are a much smaller tribe tluiu ihc Blackfeet, with whom they arc of " nu'diciiii's" r my (lisconisc! ;'' Indians in it, and ful lonions, to 111' o, lK'i;iiuiin<;' jiisl 1(1 had my oasci om 1 was tnicini; >liall lu", for scvc- t A lonn^'o, and I krc li-fl ; and all fiitnro consideia- re called) at my I otiicrwise would to come into my ue decided l)y lies of the most smoke (juielly tirely the mosH )y tlie whole 44 tion (plate 20), highly-ornamented, and fringed with scalp-locks, and sufficiently large for " ity men to dine under. The poles which support it are 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 about 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 1 can ever succeed in transporting it to New York and other eastern cities, it w.U 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, 1 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 miRutes. The chief sends his runners or criers (for such all chiefs keep in their employment) through the village, a few hours before they are to stait; announcing his determination to move, and the hour fixed upon, and the necessary preparations are in the meartime making; and at the time announced, the lodge of the chief is seen flapping in the wind, a part of the poles having been taken out from under it; this is the signal, and in one 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 tliey had avast number, had all been secured upon the spot in readiness ; and each one was spr lily loaded with the burthen allotted to it, and ready to fall into the grand piocession. 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 tlie butt ends to drag behind on the ground on either side ; just behind the the horse, a brace or pole is tied acros«, 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 him, with a tremendous pack upon her own back ; and at others she sits astride of his back, with a child, perhaps, at her breast, and another astride of the horse's back beliiiid her; clinging to her waist with one arm, while it aft'ectionatoly embraces a sneaking dog-pi") in the other. In this way five or six hundred wigwams, with all their furniture (tlatk 21), maybe seen drawn out for miles, creeping over the grass-covered plains of this country; and three times that number of men, on good horses, strolling along in front or on the flank, and, in some tribes, in the rear ol' this heterogeneous caravan ; at least five times that number of dogs, which I I 'in • * ,*^v'„, }-locks, and ;li suppoit it I Mountains, vhen erected, /ith the Great other. If I astern cities, ing specimen, eir tents and a very novel ding the river X hundred of 1 a very few chiefs keep in f are to stait ; pon, and the 1 at the time , a part of the il, and in one ), which before ig in the wind, ir horses and upon the spot :hen allotted to )wing manner : little ends of e, leaving the 1st behind the poles in their I the horse, is IS other articles wo, three, and se horses has a h a tremendous lis back, with a e's back behind ,ely embraces a rniture (platk -covered plains n siood horses, in the rear ol • of dogs, which fr 1^ ■ .-'H ^ •'''->r^<~ -,=== (L-'-t^l-J 2 J -^ . I!^ i! II fl I A. »^ 11 45 full into the rank, an;i,,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 household 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 poles are attached to the horses, leaving the larger ends to drag upon the ground behind liim ; on which is placed a bundle cr wallet wliicli is allotted to him to carry, and with which he trots off amid the throng of dogs and squaws ; faithfully and cheerfully dragging his load 'till night, and by the way loitering and occasionally "Catching at little bits of fun and glee " That's played on dogs enslaved by dog that's free." The Crows, like the Blackfeet, are beautifully costumed, and pchaps with somewhat more of taste and elegance ; inasmuch as (with their uresses and with their lodges), the skins of which they are made are more delicately and whitely dressed. The art of dressing skins belongs to the Indians in all countries ; and the Crows surpass the civilized world in the beauty of their skin-dress'ng. The art of tanning is unknown to them, so far as civilized habits and arts have not been taught them ; yet the art of dressing skins, so fa' as we have it in the civilized world, has been (like hundreds of other ornamental and useful 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 sk'ns, is by immersing them 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 buflfalo or elk spread upon and over them ; and at last finished by " graining," as it is termed, by the squaws ; who use a sharpened bone, the 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 iu the ground, and a fire is built in it with rotten wood, which will pro- duce a great quantity of smoke without much blaze ; and several small poles of the proper length stuck in the ground around it, and drawn and ftistencd together at the top, around which a skin is wrapped in form of a tent, and generally sewed together at the edges to secure the smoke within it ; •f'i (;"■ ; ,ll| li 1 jl 1 1 t •i ' m 4(j within this tlie skins to be smoked arc placed, and in this condition tlie tent will stand ii day or so, enclosin;jj the heated smoke ; and l)y some chemical process or other, which I do not understand, the skins thus acquire a quality which enables them, after being ever so many times wet, to dry soft and pliant as they were before, which secret I have never yet seer, prac- tised in my own country ; and for the lack of which, all of our dressed skins when once wet, are, I think, chiefly ruined. An Indian's dress of deer skins, which is wet a hundred times upon his back, dries soft; and his lodge also, whicli stands in the rains, and even through the severity of winter, is taken down as soft and as clean as when it was tiist 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 beiiiU' lix feet high. The Blackfeet on the other hand, are more of the Herculean make — about middling stature, with broad shoulders, and great expansion of chest; and tlie skins, of which their dresses are made, are chiefly drc ;sed black, or of a dark brown colour; from which circumstance, in all pioliability, they having black leggings or moccasins, have got the name of Blackfeet. The Crows are very handsome and gentlemanly Indians in their personal appearance; and have been always reputed; since (lie first acquaintance made with them, very civil and friendly. These jieople to be sure, have in some instances plundered and robbed trappers and travellers in their country; and for that I have sometimes heard them called rascals and thieves, and rogues of the firsv Oider, &.c. ; yet tliey do not consider themselves such ; for thieving m tiieir cstii..K)tion is a high crime, and considered the most disgraceful act that a man can possibly do. They call this capfiirinff, where li.oy sometimes run oflT a Trader's horses and make their boast of it; coij ;!*.;' 'g it a kind of retaliation or summary justice, which tht. ;, think it i,t;h; •'(.^honourable that they should administer. And why not? for 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 i'uis out of their country, without paying them an equivalent, or, in fact, anything at all, for it ; and this too, when they have been warned time and again of the danger they would be in, if they longer persisted in the practice. Reader, I look upon the Indian as the most honest and honourable race of people that I ever lived amongst in my life ; and in their native state, I pledge yon my honour they are the last of all the human family to pilfer or to steal, if you trust to their hone ; and for this never-ending and boundless system of theft and plunder, and debauchery, that is practiced off upon these right- ful owners of the soil, by acquisitive white men, I consider the infliction, or retaliation, by driving ofl' and appropriating a few horses, but a lenient punishment, vv'.ich those persons at least should expect ; and which, in fact, uoie but a very honourable and high-minded people could inflict, instead Mi 47 condition tlie and by some IS tlius acquire es wet, to dry yet seen prac- i" dressed skins inies upon liis ains, and even clean as when lite dress, and ;■ aix feet higli. make — about of chest ; and ;d black, or of ")! lability, they ckfeet. I heir personal aociuaintancc k1 and robbed metimes heard t&c. ; yet they >tion is a high n possibly do. r's horses and or sunnnary lid administer, their country estroying the le i'ui's out of t, anything at d again of the ice. Reader, ice of people I pledge yoti or to steal, if ndless system )n these right- 3 infliction, or but a lenient I'hich, in f,ict, iflict, instead of a much severer one; which they could easily practise upon the few white men in their country, without rendering themselves amenable to any law. Mr. M'Kenzie lias repeatedly told me, within the four last weeks, while in conversation relative to the Crows, that they were friendly and honourable in their dealing with the whites, and that he considered them the Hnest 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 set of vagabonds, highway robbers, etc. &c. ; and I have been told since, that this information has become current in the world ; from the fact, that they made som(» depredations upon the camp of Messrs. Crooke and Hunt of the Fur Com- pany ; and drove ofF a number of their horses, when they v.ere passing through the Crow country, on their way to Astoria. This was no doubt true ; and equally true, would these very Indians tell us, was the fact, that they had a 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 1 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 their own account,) of which they were in great want, and for which they brought a great many horses, and offered them repeatedly in trade; which these gentlemen refused to take, persisting in their determi- nation of carrying their goods to their destined place, across the mountains ; thereby disappointing these Indians, b^ denying them the arms and weapons which v.ere in their possession, whilst they were living upon them, and ex- hausting the game and food of their country. No doubt, these gentlemen told the Crows, that these goods were going to Astoria, of which place they knew nothing; and of course, it was enough for them that thev wwe going to take them farther west ; which they would at once suppr was to the Blackfeet, their principal enemy, having eight or ten warrio o one of the Crows ; where they supposed the white men could get a ater price for their weapons, and arm their enemies in such a way as would enable tiienx to turn upon the Crows, and cut them to pieces withou mercy. Under these circumstances, the Crows rode off, and to show their indignation, drove off some of the Company's horses, for which tl v 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 fall upon the head of the first white man who comes in their way, provided the offender was a white man. And I would not be surprised, therefore, if I get robbed of my horse ; and you too, readers, if you go into that country, for that very (supposed) offence. i; •] w < ii : ! ^. 4H I liavc conversed often and much with Messrs, Sublette and Campl)ell, two gentlemen of the highest respectability, who have traded with the Crows for several years, and they tell me they are one of the most honourable honest, and high-minded races of people on earth; and with Mr, Tullock, also, a man of the strictest veracity, who is now here with a party of them ; and, he says, they never steal, — have a high sense of honour, — and being fearless and ))roud, are quick to punish or retaliate. So much for the character of the Crows for the present, a subject which I shall assuredly take up again, when I shall have seen more of them myself. * '. ^ \ '< ■ i tt and Campl)ell, witi) the Crows 3st honourable 1 Mr. Tullock, party of them ; ir, — and being subject which more of them LETTEH— No. 8. MOUTH OF YHLLOW STONE. Since my last Letter, nothinj^ of great moment has transpired at this place ; but I have been continually employed in painting my portraits and making notes on the character and customs of the wild folks who are about me. I have just been painting a number of the Crows, fine looking and noble gentlemen. They are really a handsome and well-formed set of men as can be seen in any part of the world. There is a sort of ease and grace added to their dignity of manners, which gives them the air of gentlemen at once. I observed the other day, that most of them were over six feet high, and very many cf 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 exceedmg grace and beauty to their movements. They usually oil 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 the other tribes throughout this country use the bear's grease in e([ual 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 ; fof'the women, though all of them with glossy and beautifid 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 their lords in a fashion so ornamental (and on which the men so highly pride themselves), and are obliged to cut it short off. The fashion of long hair amongst the men, prevails throughout all the Western and North Western tribes, after passing the Sacs and Foxes; and the 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 office 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 country. This extraordinary man is known to several gentlemen with whom I am acquainted, and particularly to Messrs. Sublette and Campbell, of whom I have before spoken, who VOL, I. „ i li I \ . « 1 ;',. i m 1 i: 1, 1 i 1 , A' ' 1 : I ii ir no told mo tlicy luvl lived in his liospitablt; lodpje, wilh him for montlis to"-cther; and assured me that tlicy had measured his hair l)y a correct means, and found it to be ten feet and seven inclies in length; closely inspect- ing every part of it at the same time, and satisfying themselves that it was tlie natural growth. On ordinary occasions it is wound with a broad leather strap, from liis head to its extreme end, and then folded uj) into a budget or block, of sonic ten or twelve inches in length, and of some pounds weight ; which when he walks is carried under his arm, or placed in his bosom, within the folds of his robe ; but on any great parade or similar occasion, his pride is to unfold it, oil it with bear's grease and let 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 leno-ths of hair, by fastening then» with glue ; probably for the purpose of imitating the Crows, upon whom alone Nature has be- stowed this conspicuous and signal ornament. Amongrst the Crows of distinction now at this place, I have painted the portraits of several, who exhibit some striking peculiarities. Amoi ^st whom is Chah-ee-chopes, the four wolves (plate 24) ; a fine looking 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 :.3 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-lio-shee, the red bear Cplate 2H), a distinguished warrior ; and Oo-je-en-a-he-ah, the woman who lives in the bear's den (pi.ate 25). I have also painted Pa-rjs-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 us a counsellor and orator, even at an early stage v. s life. There is something very unconmion in this outline, and sets forth tlie 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 certainly a very 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 conmient in another place. The Crow women (and Blackfeet also) are not handsome, ana I shall at ^ lim for montlis I correct means, closely iiispect- Ives that it was strop, from his r block, of sonic ; which when he in the folds of ride is to unfold e three or four ig like a raven's )es, to splice or le ; probably for Nature has be- lave painted the Amot ^st whom jking fellow, six he walks ; he is eful and manly to their custom, ; much :.3 a man I for the greater or a husband or so remain till it pproaches to its juished warrior ; :len (pirate 25). ger (j'LATE 27), not only for his tion itself — and nary sagacity us 1 sets forth tlie an exaggerated exceedingly low striking charac- e tribe as in the r they are met; c, arvu I shall at c J L .^ Z'.^' /r /.' /.•( ,--^ ii^#^N V ■if i>,i!i< •! 25 l)S>.,Vs 41 |)/:frv% m I III i ! I 'l im and are a| niarri each niau'sl am vj otlierJ I havl in thcT visit. seq ucl arrana Tlu CoutiJ TradeJ with t| of tni fur-be| with lisi trac unci ml 61 present say but little of them. They are, like all other Indian women, the slaves of their hiishunds : being obliged to perl'orni all the domestii; duties and drudgeries of tiio tribe, and not allowed to join in their religious rites or cerenionit^s, nor in the dance or other aniiiseinents. The women in all these I'.ner and westcin tril)e3 are decently dressed, and many of them with {^reat beauty and taste ; their dresses are all of deer or goat skins, extending from their chins quite down to the feel; these dresses are in many instances trimmed with ermine, and orna lented with porcupine ({uills and beads with exceeding ingenuity. The 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 Vermillion or red earth. J'or what purpose this little, but universal, custom is observed, I never have been able to learn. The men amongst the Blackfeet tribe, have a fashion equally simple, and probably of as little meaning, which secns strictly to be adhered to by every man in the tribe ; they separate the hair in two places on the fore- head, leaving a lock between the two, of an inch or two in width, which is carefully straightened down on to the bridge of the nose, and there cut .square off. It is more than probable that this is done for the purpose of distinction ; that they may thereby be free from the epithet of effeminacy, which might otherwise attach to them. These two tribes, whom I have spoken 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 acquired. It would be the work of a man's life-time to collecl lUc 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. I 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, which will answer as a specimen or sample in each ; and which, in the sequel to these Letters (if they should ever be published), will probably be arranged. The Blackfeet arc, perhaps, the most powerful tribe of Indians on the Continent; and being sensible of their strength, have stubbornly resisted the Traders in their country, who have been gradually forming an acquamtance with them, and endeavouring to establish a permanent and profitable system of trade. Their country abounds in beaver and buffalo, and most of the fur-bearing animals of North America ; and the American Fur Company, with an uncontjuerable spirit of trade and enterprize, has pushed its estab- lishments into their country ; and the numerous parties of trai)pers are tracing up their streams and rivers, rapidly destroying the beavers which E 2 (■ill I ^, f^^- > IMAGE EVALl \TION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 ut lii 12.2 «« — ii2.o u 1^ Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. '>V1S0 (716) •72-4503 4^ I c% 62 l! If dwell in tliem. The Blackfect 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, and 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 amoui^st these, as it has done 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, having been less traded with, and less seen by white people than most of the other tribes, are 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 1 can learn, however, wiiich is the best in- formation that can be got from the Traders, there are not far from 30,000 Indians (all together), who range under the general denomiration of Blackfeet. From our slight and imperfect knowledge of them, and other tribes occupying the country al)out 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 practicing 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 1,650 lodges, averaging ten to the lodge, amount to about 16,500 souls. There are then of the other tribes above-mentioned (and whom we, perhaps, incorrectly denominate Blackfeet), Grosventres des Prairies, 430 lodges, with language entirely distinct; Circes, 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 the above, I held a converantion with Major Pilcher (a strictly correct and iionourable man, who was then the agent (or these i)eople, who has livi'il amongst them, and is at this time superintendent of Indian aft'uirs at St. Louis), who informed me, much to my surprise, that the Blackfeet were not fur from 60,000 in numbers, including all the confederacy of which 1 have just spoken. 53 Indian languages of North America can all be traced to two or liiree roots. The hmonasre of the Dohcotas is entirely and radically distinct from that o< •lie Mandans, and theirs eqnally so from the Blackfoot and the Crows. And from the lips of Mr. Brazean, a gentleman of education and strict observa- tion, who has lived several years with the Blackfeet and Shicnnes, and who 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 not 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 I 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 3,000 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 well-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 their disparity in numbers, they are rapidly thinning the ranks of their warriors, who bravely sa- crifice their lives in contentions with their powerful neighbours. This tribe occupy the country from the mouth of the Yellow Stone, in a north- western direction, 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 thousand, occupy a vast extent of country, in a north-eastern direction from this ; extending also into the British 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 teri.,3 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 Ghippeways, with whom we are more familiarly acquainted, and who inhabit the south-west shore of l^ke 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 time when, they became severed from each other. The Assinneboins are a part of the Dahcotas, or Sioux, undoubtedly ; for their personal appearance as well as their language is very similar. f - 1: 1 ',1 ' '' I i 64 At what time, or in wliat nmniior, these two puits of a nation p;ot strayed away from oacli other is a mystery ; yet 8ue!i rases luivc often occurred, ot" which I shall say more in futiirv . Lart^c p' rties, who arc straying; oil' in pursuit of game, or in the occupation of war, arc oftentimes intercepted by their enemy ; and bcinp prevented from returning, ar^ run ofl'to a distant region, where they take up tiieir residence and establish themselves as a nation. There is a very curious custom amongst the Assinncboins, 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 fol- lowing manner : — wlu'n 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 froni the back, is put over the hole, and then pressed down with the hands close around the sides, and tilled with water. The meat to be boiled is then put in this hole or pot of water ; and in a fire, which is built near by, several large stones arc heated to a red heat, which arc successively dipped and held in the water until the meat is boiled; from which singular and peculiar custom, the (^jibbcways have given them the appellation of Assinncboins or stone boilers. This custouj 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, arc a fine and noble looking race of Indians ; bearing, both in their looks and customs, a striking resemblance to the Dohcotas or Sioux, from whom they have undoubtedly sprung. The men are tall, and graceful in t)ieir movements ; and wear their pictured robes of the bufialo hide with great skill and pleasing cflect. They arc good hunters, and tolerably supplied with horses ; and living in a country abounding with bufl'aloes, are well supplied with the necessaries of India", life, and may be said to live well. Their games and amusementi 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- ments) a minute account. Tlieir dances, wliicli were rrc(|(ient and variod, were nfiici'.illy oxiictly llic same as those uf the Sionx, of whirh I have ^iveii a raithl'iil aeeoiiiit in my Notes on the Sionx, and whieli tlie reach'r will soon meet with. 'I'heie was one of liiese scenes, however, that I witnessed the otiiei day, which a|»|ieiiie(l to mc to bo peculiar to this tribe, and exceedingly |)iclures(|iie in its eH'ements: ilx; yoini'^' men, who were to con)|>ose the dance iiad gathered themselves around a small fire (iM.ATE '5'2), aiul oacii one seated on a biiHalo-rohc spread upon the ;;ronnd. In the centre and by the lire, was oiirine, accom- panied by his voice; when one of tlie youni;; men seated, 8pran<^ instantly on his feet, and commenced sinu;in}; 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 brandishiuf:; his fists in the faces of each om- 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 ''is companion in the centre ; leaving the third and the fourth, and so on to drag inlo the ring, each one his man, until all were upon their feet ; and at lust joined in the most frightful gesticidations and yells that seemed almost to make the earth (luake under our feet. This strange mana'uvre, wliich I did but partially understand, lasted for half or three-(piarters of an hour ; to the great amusement of the gaping multitude who were asseml)led 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 jiaste of red earth and glue, with which the hair is at intervals of every two or three inches filled, aiul divided into locks and slabs of an inch or so in breadth, and falling straight down over the back to the heels, I have just painted the portrait of a very distinguished young man, and son of the chief (i'Latk 28) ; his dress is a very handsome one, and in every i\ 6$ \i V H 11 respect answers well to the descriptions I have given above. The name of this man is Wi-jiin-jon (the pigeon's egg head), and by the side of him (PLATE W) will be SOPH the portrait of his wife, Chin-cha-pcc (the fire bug that cr(>e|)s), a fine looking squaw, in a handsome dress of the mountain- sheep skill, holding in her hand a stick curiously carved, with which every woman in this country is supplied ; for the purpose of digging up the " l*omme Blanche," or prairie turnip, which is found in great quantities in these northeru prairies, and furnishes the Indians with an abundant and nourishing food. Tiic women collect these turnips by striking the end of the stick into the ground, and prying them out ; after which they are d..od and preserved in their wigwams for use during the season 1 have just had the satisfaction of seemg this travelled-gentleman (Wi- jun-jon) meet, his tribe, his wife and his little children; after an absence of a year or more, on his journey of 6000 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 peoj)le, 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-visagcd 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 i)lace, 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 m'ditaire, a colonel's uni- form of blue, presented to him by the President of the United States, with a beaver hat and feather, with epaidcttes 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 his 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 interchangs with them. Thus the mutual gazings upon and from this woidd-be-stranger, lasted for full half an hour ; when a gradual, but cold and exceedingly formal recognition began to take place, and an accpiaintance 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 otF, 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 tlu; stoic instances of a custom which belongs to all the North American Indians, forming one of the most striking features in their P ^h ; nil ' n 57 character ; valued, cherished and practiced, like many others of their 8tranfi;o notions, for reasons wliich arc difHcult to be learned or understood ; and which probably will never be ju/ttly appreciated by others than them- selves. This man, at this time, is creating: a wonderful sensation amonn;8t his tribe, who arc daily and niu;htly gathered in gaping and listless crowds around him, whilst he is descanting upon what he has seen in the fashionable world ; and which to them is unintelligible and beyond their comprehension ; for which I tiiul they are already setting him down as a liar and impostor. What may be the final results of his travels and initiation into the fashionable 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, fur the advantages uhich one might have supposed would have flown from his fashionable tour. More of this curious occurrence and of this extraordinary man, I will surely give in some future epistles. The woaien 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 are 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 ihe Rocky Mountains. I have before said of these, that they were about 3,000 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 wa- into their enemy's country. With the numerous tribe of Blackfeet, they 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 in 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 tlie diesses 111' ill's 68 of the fcmnlcM in this tribe; which, without rnrthor comment, ii all I thul) ■ay Ht thiH time of the valoroiii tribe of ('reen or Kniiteneiiiix. Tiic Ojihliewnys I hnvc briefly mentioned in n tbrmer plueo, and of them ■hould May more; wliioh will be done at a proper time, after 1 ahall have visited other brancheti of thin threat and Hcattered family. The chief of that part of the Ojihbeway tribe who inhabit these northern regions (i'latk '6f)), and whose name is Sha-co-pay (the Six), is a man ol huge Ri/.e ; with dignity of manner, and pride and vanity, just about in proportion to his bulk, lie sat for hin portrait in a most l)eautil'ul dress, fringed with scalp locks in |)rofusi(m ; which he hud snatched, in liiH early life from his enemies* licadN, and now wears as proud trophies and proofs of what his arm has accomplished in battles with his enemies. His shirt of buckskin is beautifully embroidered and painted in curious liieroglypliics, the history of his battles and charts of his life. This, 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 a)(reeable (plate 3G), is seen represented by his side. 1 have much to see of these people yet, and much consequently to write ; so for the present 1 close my book. i!' I 4 ■( ( I \i fi ' 'B I'l i"t i I >; ■ I' 1 f; ) If l'" V ^ t.% ^0 'St ^-A^■ - i ,^??'»««f J ! i| li Uii :i^i:-: Si;!jc some w tossed •< thought would t that I s my voy£ spective A tra and seal " look c ever, of incident with pl( entertai: of such it is but allurem( rama of its thou! where r mould ii would s peted b giddily hills am plete — ■( feeling- j of everj It is 1 — when known- — where 59 LETTER— No. 9. MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE. Si:!iCE the dates of my other Letters from this place, I have been taking some wild rambles about this beautiful country of green fields ; 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 I shall again date a letter at this place, as I commence, in a few days, my voyage down the river iu a canoe ; but yet 1 may give you many a retro- spective glance at this fairy land and its amusements, 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 eat." Impressions, how- ever, of the most vivid kind, are rapidly and indelibly made by tho fleeting incidents of savage life ; and for the mind that can ruminate upon them with pleasure, there are abundant materials clinging to it for its endless entertainment in driving the quill when he gets back. The mind susceptible of such impressions catcties 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 splendid pano- rama of a world entirely different from anything seen or painted before ; with 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 ovrr the interminable and boundless ocean of grass-covered hills and valleys which lie beneath him, where the gloom 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 men 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 buffalo range, the elk, mountain-sheep, and the fleet-bounding u'l: ■■ n ■i '■ 60 i\ A: 1 antelope — where the magpie and chattering parroqnctles supply the place of the retl-breast and the blue-bird — where wolves are wiiite, and bears grizzly — where pheasants are hens of the prairie, and frogs have horns ! — where the rivers are yellow, 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 acquain- tance), could be recognised in this country of strange metamorphose. The former shed everywhere his fanuliar rays; and Monsr. Ratapon was hailed as an old acquaintance, 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 philanthropist 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 tliHerent grades of civilization, which gradually sink to the most deplorable condition along the extreme frontier ; thence through the most pitiable misery and wretchedness of savage degra- dation ; where the genius of natunil liberty and independence have been blasted and destroyed by the contamiimling vices and dissipations introdiicetl 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.tho predominant passions of the savage breast, of ferocity and cruelty, are often found; yet restrained, and hequenl\y 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 fire 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 1 have visited, and are yet uncorrupted by the vices of civilized acquaintance, are well clad, in many instances cleanly, and in the full enjoyment of life and its luxuries. It is for the chardctet and preservation of 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 my life. It is a sad and melanrholy truth to contemplate, that all the numerous tribes who inhabited our vast Atlantic States have not 'fled to the West;" — that they are not to be found here — that they have been blasted by the fire which 61 liiis passed over tliem — have sunk into their graves, and everything but their 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 inottensive 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 stron{> 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 civilized man ; it affords them, however, the means and luxuries of savage life ; and it is to be hoped that oui government will not acquiesce in the continued wilful destruction 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 in- evitable bane that was rapidly advancing upon them; without that check from the protecting arm of 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 happines'j belonging to civilized society, has long been a subject of much doubt, and one which I cannot undertake to decide at this time. I would say thus much, however, that if the 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 enjoynr.ent which beams from their happy faces, 1 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, unfurrowed wiih cares — where the agonizing feeling 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 independent fellow, 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 i! i I 62 hi/ ■ ^'i ask) can look without admiring, into a society where peace and harmony prevail — where virtue is cherished — where rights are protected, and wrongs are redresse'l — with no laws, but the laws of honour, which are the 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 imagination closely traced the savage to his deep retreats, and gazed upon him in dreadful horror, until pity pleaded, and admiration worked a charm. A journey of 4,000 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 book 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 character 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, wlien we arrived at Niagara Falls ; and hastened back to amuse their friends wiJi 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. Louis, 1400 miles west of New York, my landlady assured Wyuniing. engines, Sheg Jeffen Far /' 63 me tliat 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. Whence 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 stil! 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 gentlen»en, 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 Mackinaw-boat, and that formidable caravan, all of which are richly laden with goods. These, Sir, are outfits starting for the West. Going to the West, ha? "Then," said 1, "I'll try it again. I will try and see if I can go to the West." * * * • * * * Wiiat, a Fort here, too ? Oui, Monsieur — oui. Monsieur (as a dauntless, and semibarbarianAooking, 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 ? Pardon, Monsieur, je ne 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 your name ? ^■M >•■ ■^y\'\ "i" i I '•'i i; I ^ 64 Ba'tiste, Monsieur. What Indians are those so splendidly dressed, and with such fine horses, encamped on the plain yonder ? lU sont Corbeaux. Crows, ha ? Yes, sare. Monsieur. We are then in the Crow country ? Non, Monsieur, not putty exact ; we are in de coontrae of de dam Pieds noirs. Blackfeet, ha ? Oui. What blue mountain is that which we see in the distance yonder? Ha, quel Montaigne? cela est la Montaigne du (pardon). Du Rochers, I suppose ? Oui, Monsieur, 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, diablc ! de West? well you shall see, 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'tiste, 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 American Fur Company, I suppose ? Non, Monsieur, not quite exact; mais, suppose, I am '* free trappare," free, Mons. free ! Free trapper, what's that ? I don't understand you, Ba'tiste. Well, Mons. 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, Mons. M'Kenzie is give me tree horse — one pour ride, et two pour pack (mais he 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 dione on de leet rivares pour prendre les castors. Sometime six months — sometime five month, and I come back to Yel Stone, et Mons. M'Kenzie is give me coot price pour all. at you the all. Gli So Mr. M'Keiizio fits you out, and takes your boavor of \ou at a certain price f Oui, Monsr. oui. What price does he pay you for your beaver, Ba'tiste ? Ha ! suppose one dollure pour one beavare. A dollar a skin, ha? Oui. Well, you must live a lonesome and hazardous sort of life ; can you make anything by it ? Oh ! oui, Monsr. putty coot, mais if it is not pour for de dam rascalite Rickarree et de dam Pieds noirs, de Bk ^foot Ingin, I am make very much monair, mais (sacre), I am rob — rob — rob too much ! What, do the Blackfoet rob you of your furs ? Oui, Monsr. rob, suppose, five time ! I am been free trappare seven year, and I am rob five time — I am someting left not at all — he is take all ; he is take all dc horse — he is take my gun — he is take all my clothes — he is takee de cjistors — et I am come back with 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 is what you call being a free trapper is it ? Oui, Mons. " free trappare," free! You seem to be going down towards the Yellow Stone, and probably have been out on a trapping excursion. Oui, Monsr. c'est vrai. Have you been robbed this time, Ba'tiste ? Oui, Monsr. by de dam Pieds noirs — I am loose much ; I am loose all — very all ich bien — pour le 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 I shall descend the Missouri from the mouth of Yellow Stone, to St. Louis; and I should like exceedingly to employ just such a man as you are as a voyageur with me — I will give you good wages, and pay all your expenses ; what say you ? Avec tout mon cour, Monsr. remercie, remercie. It's a bargain then, Ba'tiste ; I will see you at the mouth of Yellow Stone. Oui, Monsr. in de Yel Stone, bon soir, bon soir, Monsr. Bui stop, Ba'tiste, you told me those were Crows encamped yonder. Oui, Monsieur, oui, des Corbeaux. And I suppose you are their interpreter ? Non, Monsieur. But you speak the Crow language ? Ouis, Monsiaur. Well then, turn about ; I am going to pay them a visit, and you can render me a service. — Bien, Monsieur, allons. VOL. I. F ' M m' M r 0(j •i: ^! ;' '> LKTTER— No. 10. MANDAN VILLACiK, IJl'PER MISSOURI. Soon after the writiiitj of my hist Letter, which was dated at the Mouth of Yellow Stone, I embarked on the river for this 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 which force him to mirth — to pity and com- passion — to admiration— disgust ; to fear and astonishment. But before 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 last spree, and fought their last battles, and forgotten them in the 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'Kenzie had procured .^. 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, forever, 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 severaLpacks 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 ; Cf^nsistin tin-kettl< Thus the sh'-ui as we gri which wa spread ai At the ing with the bank friendshif In the head), sti Continuin scenes wh Washingt Many ) him, to he ance quite had been was truly 1 His keg frock-coat, waist, had plied her had been umbrella t spread at less, and Of the and rapidly four or fiv grass-cover an eld and There is, precipice of exceedingly down from brink of the It is alor generally fo discovered ii and in ever' resemble th( lard ; ^ssful Iried ^lyof I their it the few idian also iple; ()7 consisting of three tin cups, a roffcc-pot — one plate — a frying-pan — and a tin-kettle. Thus fitted out and embarked, wo swept oflT at a rapid rate under the sh'-uts of the savacjes, and the cheers of our friends, who lined the banks as we gradually lost sight of thorn, and turned our (jycs towards St. Louis, which was 2000 miles below us, with nought intervening, save the wide- spread and wild regions, inhabited by the roaming savage. At the end of our first day's journey, we found ourselves handily encamp- ing with several thousand Assinneboins, who had pitched their tents upon the bank of the river, and received us with every mark of esteem and friendship. In the midst of this group, was my friend Wi-jun-jon (the pigeon's egg head), still lecturing on the manners and customs of the " pale faces." Continuing to relate without any appearance of exhaustion, the marvellous scenes which he had witnessed amongst the white people, on his tour to Washington City. Many were the gazers who seemed to be the whole time crowding around him, to hear his recitals; and the plight which he was in rendered his appear- ance quite ridiculous. His beautiful military dress, of which I before spoke, had been so shockingly tattered and metamorphosed, that his appearance was truly laughable. His 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 sup- plied 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 exhaust- less, 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 picturesque grass-covered bluffs and knolls, which everywhere had the appearance of an eld 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 i 2 f'di vJ ■ !l \ . . !-i!;^ coil; and at the root.4, cacli liorti is, in oumu iiiAtanccs, from five to six inchea ill Itri'iuitli. On tl>c sccoiiil (lay of our voyage we disonvercd a number of these nnimiils skippiiitf iilonp; (lii- sides of the precipice, always kecpinjjf ahoiit cipii-distant between the top and bottom of the ledpe; leaping; and vaulting in tlie most extraordinary manner fioni point to point, and seeinin;; to cliii|f netually, to tlie sides of the wall, where neither man nor beast could possibly follow them. We land. ul our canoe, and endeavoured to shoot one of these sagacious animals; and after he had led us a lonenntifiil little prairie at the base of a series of j^rass-oovered bluffs; and llie next niornin^jeo<»k«d our breakfast and ate it, and rowed on until late in the afternoon ; when we flopped nt tlin base of some liu^eelay blulls, forming one of the most eurious and romantic scenes inia;.>inal)le. At this spot the river expatuls itself into the appearance somewhat of u beaiitifid lake ; and in tli* midst of it, and on and about its sand-bars, tloat4.>d and stood, luindreds and thousands of white swans and pilieans. Thou^jh the scene in front of our encampment at this place was placid and beautiful; with its flowiup water — its wild fowl — and its almost endless variety of pracefnily sloping hills and jrreen prairies in the distance; yet it was not less wild and picturesque in oin- rear, where tiie nijjyjed and various coloured bluti's were grouped in all the wililest fancies and rudeness of Nature's accidental varieties. The whole country behind us seemed to have been dup; and thrown up into huffo piles, as if some piant mason had been there mixinu: his mortar and paints, and throwini^ together his rude models for some suldime structure of a colossal city; — with its walls — its domes — its ramparts — its hupe porticos and (ralleries — its cast les — its fosses and ditches ; — and in the midst of his progress, he had abandoned his works to the destroyinjjj hand of time, which had already done much to tumble them down, and deface their noble struc- ture ; by jostliuf; them together, with all their vivid colours, into an unsys- tematic and unintelligible mass of sublime ruins. To this group of clay bluffs, which line the river for many miles in distance, the voyageurs have very appropriately given the name of "the Brick- kilns;" owing to their red appearance, 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 himdred 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 fact (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 rmd 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 rfeformation) 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, the peculiar feature, that nowhere else (to my knowledge) occurs ; that; the superstratum, forming the tops of these mounds (where they remain hi,h enough to support anything of the original surface) is composed, for the i: i ! )i 70 M 31, ri Mit ■I ;:, depth of fifteen feet, of red pumice ; terminating a* its bottom, in a layer of several feet of sedimentary deposite, which is formed into endless conglo- n)i;rates 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 bluffs (which are composed of strata of different coloured clays), are continually washing down by the effect of tho 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 tiie river, which is 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 vermillion. It is porous and open^ and its specific gravity but trifling. These curious bluffs must be sevn as they are in nature ; or else in a painting, where their colours are faithfully given, or they lose tlieir 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 ssingular 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 iifle and sketch-book in my hand, I wandered and clambered through tije 'iigged defiles between the bluffs ; passing over and under the immens'; blocks i">f the pumice, ihat had fallen to their bases; determined, if possible, to find the crate;, o"* 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 I sat upon the pinnacles of these pumice-capped mounds ; most of which time, Bogard and Ba'tiste laid en- joying the pleasure of a " mountaineer's nap" — we met together — took our coffee aiid dried buffalo tongues — spread our buffalo robes upon the grass, and enjoyed during t'le night the luxury of sleep, that belongs so peculiarly to the tired voyageur in these realms of pure air and dead silence. (ri'ailili ■OUHHUblHtt. to of .;■■ ■'.', ^•:^-.?k ■..».. :t J v^, -. • .. ■, .' - -.:,■-- --v--v:.- -■:,.#■ -•y.^r^::^,-^^^"^'.i.i/ JJ- ;■"-;.., r L^aiiiAtlMigJilM ■'./ I','. ! ' t«l I ! 'if' lap- ied ,- -'.v^:; . > •-j< ?'■ //. V . \ . - . -Ti^i / cN-J.'/'/.' !i>r;;:-r'^; ? \ '-■'"...^: \' - -s ■ ^'^XV' ■ w--^' : — . , \ \^ ■>'^:'2^^'^. u-*^. V W I JLSS, ply l-.i-aidi I fl Is IS . \l .': ill I 41 'fl t .. 1' :A 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 from 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 ^\fix," 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 raw-hide 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 into the secrets of our luggage enough fui 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 laying 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 terror 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 I was in hopes to destroy her — capture her young ones, and bring her skin home as a trophy. My plans, hcwever, entirely failed, though we were well arme j ; for Bogard and Ba'tiste both remonstrated with a vehemence that was irresistible ; saying that the standing- rule in the mountains was " never to fight Caleb, except in 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 scalpinij-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 i , >!• 72 possible; giving each one of them the contents of our rifies as we drifted ort' in the current; which brought the she-monster, in all her rage and fury, to the spot where we, a moment before, had passed our most pru- dent resolve. During the rest of this day, we passed on rapidly, gnzing on and admiring the beautiful shores, whicii were continually changing, from the high and ragged cliffs, to the graceful and green slopes of the prairie blutls; and then to the wide expanded meadows, with their long waving grass, enamelled with myriads of wild flowers. The scene was one of enchantnunt the whole way ; our chief conversation was about grizzly bears and hair's-breadlh 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 iifti rnoon ; at which time our demolis'iod 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 scon ran upon the head of an island, that was covered with immense (juantities 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 ciiairs 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 lor our slumbers, which it is not generally considered prudent to do by the side of our fires, wliich 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 luive before said, was exceedingly beautiful ; and our canoe was often run to the shore, upon which .ve stepped to admire the endless variety of wild flowers, " waslir.g their sweetness on the desert air," and the abundance of delicious fruits that were about us. Whilst wandering through the high grass, the wild sun-flowers and volup- tuous lillies were con' "^^antly taunting us by striking our faces ; '..liilst here and there, in every direction, there were little copses and clusters of plum trees and gooseberries, and wild currants, loaded down with their fruit; and amongst these, to sweeten the atmosphere and add a charm to the eft'ect, 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 tliese, we had the luxury of service-berries, without stint ; and the bufl'alo bushes, which are peculiar to these northern regions, lined the banks of the river and dcliles in the blufl's, sometimes for miles together; form- ing almost impassable hedgi ^,so loaded with tlie weight of their fruit, that their boughs were everywhere gracefully bending down and resting on the ground. IS Thi5 ornanu rest of be disti incredil about t in fliivo bitten b delieiou inclined The (as I hi grows tc groves fruit, an men til the sprin campmei cooper — and the fifty or a plying til about this saw the pressing t the water you two meals? ai sale in St. This idi in French tliat but f( lost the CO the necess often regu I at lenj: agreed tha gave it the; out of the following n I had in tli they were I of the tree instant on U 1 73 on us. up- lere luin and ect, ~iere jcet |nt; the Ihcir lind. Thib last shrub {shcppcrdin), which may be said to bo the most beautiful ornament that dt'cks out the wild prairius, forrr's a striking contrast to the rest of thi! foliage, from the blue appearance of its liavcsi, 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 excicdingly acid, and almost unpalntiible, until tliey are bitten by tin- frosts of autumn, \\h>ii they ure sweetened, and their llavour delicious; having, to the taste, much the character of grapes, and I am inclined to think, would produce cxc Ihnt win '. The shrub which bears them resembles some varieties of the thorn, tiiough (as I have said; diflers eiitin ly in the colour of its leaves. It m uerally grows to the la ight of six or seven ft, and often to ten or twelve ; and in (■proves or hedges, in some plic s, for miles in extent. While gathering the fruit, and contemplating it as cipable of producing good wine, I asked my nic 11 this (piestion, " Suppose \\e three had ascended the river to this point in the spring of the year, end in a timbered bottom had pitched our little en- campment; and one of you two 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 othc" to have constructed a nuickinaw-boat, capable of carrying fifty or a hundred casks; and I had been a good hunter, capable of sup- plying the little enci.mpment with meat; and we should have started off about this time, to float down the current, stopping our boat wlierever we saw the finest groves of the bufi'alo bush, colleeting the berries and ex- pressing thejuiee, and putting it into our casks for fermentation while on the water for two ihousiind miles ; how many bushels of these berries could you two gather in a d;iy, provided I watched the boat and cooked your meals? and how many barrels of good wine do you think we could ofl'er for sale in St. Louis whi n we arrived th re ?'* This idea startled my two men c xeeedingly, and Ba'tist.' gabbled so fast in French, fliat I eould not translate; and I am almost willing to believe, that but for the want of the requisite tools for the enterpiize, 1 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 arc often regulated by the majority, in this strange and singular w ilderness. I at length, howevir, got their opinions on the subject; when they mutually agreed that they could gather tliiity bushels of this fruit per day ; and I gave it then, and I ofier it now, as my own aUo, 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 maekinaw blanket which I had in the canoe, and spreading it on the ground under 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 corners, and not uu- ■ i \ '! ii !| I- I I! ' ! 74 h|« ill u U. t t f ! i iVnuiontly wotiM pntdnop \\n, from ttiu* blow, tlio rinlilh pml of w IhihIu'I of this fruit ; when tlu> boiiglis, relieved of llieir burden, iiiMtaiitly flew up to tlieir native position. or this beiiutifnl nnlive, whieli I think would form one of llie loveliest, ornamental slirnbs for a gentleman's park or pleasure grounds, I procured a iiumi»erof tlio roots; but wliieh, frmn tlic nuuiy aeeideuts ami ineidenta thc't our unlueky bark was subjected to on our ronp,li passage, I lost tbeni (and nimost tlie reeoileetiou of tlieni) as well as many oilier e\niosit.io8 I bad collected on our way down the river. On the morninp,' of the next day, and not, long after we. had stopped and taken o\ir breakfast, and while our canoe was swiftly ulidinp; alonp; iinder the shore of a beautitnl prairie, 1 saw in the grass, on the l)ank above me, what I supposed to be the back of a fine elk. busy at his grazing. I Kl our craft, Hoat silently by for a little ilistatu'e, when I comnmuicated the intelligence to my men, and slily ran in, to the shore. 1 pricked the priming of my fne- lock, and taking a bullet or two in my mouth, stepped ashore, and trailing my rifle in my luuul, went luick under the bank, carefidly trawling up in a little ravine, quite sure of my game; when, to my utter stirprise 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 ,.:' others grazing ; and nearer to mo. on the let), a war-party leclining aromul a little fire; and yet nearer, and within twenty i)aoes of the muzzle of my gun, the naked sluuddera of a brawny Indian, who seemed busily engaged in cleai\iiig his gun. From this critical dilemma, the reader can easily imagim> that I \ finished with all the suddenness and secrecy that was possible, bonding my course lowanis my oanoe. Hogard and Ua'tiste correctly construing the expression of my face, and the agitation of n\y hurried retreat, prematurely iinmoored from the shore; and the force of the current carrying them around a huge pile of drift wood, threw me back for some distance upon n»y own resources; though they finally got in, near the shore, and I into the boat, with the steering oar in my hand ; when we plied om* sinews with effect and in silence, till we were wafted far fVom the ground which wo doouied critical and dangerous to our lives; for we ha«l boon daily in dread of meeting si war-party of the revengeful Uiocarces, which we had been told was on the river, in search of the IVlandans. l-Vom and after this exciting occurrence, the entries in my journal for the I'est of the voyage to the village of the Mantlans, wore as follow : — • Saturday, fifth «lay of our voyage from the mouth of Yellow Stone, at cloven o'clock. — Landed our canoe in the grand detour (or liig Bend) as it is called, at the base of a stately clay mouml, and ascended, all hands, to the summit le\cl, to take a glance at the pictm'oscpie and magniiicont works of Nature that were about us. Spent the remainder of the day in painting a view of this grand scene ; for which purpose Ba'tistc ami Uogard carried my easel and canvass to the top of a huge mound, where they left me at my work; nnd I piiintcd my picliirc (im.aii'. .1!)), wliilM llicy ainimrd tlicmsolvos with llicir lillcs, tlnoyiii|; si (lock nl" iuil('lo|)(H, ol' wliirli lluiy killed several, iind iilxindaiitly iidtlcd to llw; Htock of our iirovisioiiH. Sciirccly imylliiiip; in iiufnrc <'iui he found, I iini sure, more <'xceedinnly |ti(liircH(|ne tliiin tlic view from (liia pliue ; exiiibitint; tin; wonderful rniinner in wliicli tlie jror^ew of tlie river li;iv»' eu» out iin *\v, p eliiinnel tlirouj^h these walls of elay on either side, of two or three liundrtMl hit in elevation ; and the imposinp; features of the hi^;li tahle-lands in distance, standing' as a per- petual an(Mnaly in the country, and producinpf \\\v. indisputalile, tlioiii;li nstoinidinj; evidenee of the fact, that tlu^rc has lieen at some ancient perio'l, a stipn- sinfaee to this eountry, correspondini; with thi' elevation of these tahidar hills, whose surface, for half a mile or more, on their tops, is |)erfectly level ; hein^r covered with a (^rcen turf, and yet <»iu; hundred and fd'ty or two hundred feet clevatcid ahove what may now Ih< properly termed the summit level of all this seetioii of eountry ; lis will he seen stretchinjr off at their hase, without rurnishinc; other instances in hundreds of miles, of anylhiiij^ risiuf; one foot ahove its surfaee, (-xeepting the solitary tjrtiup which is shewn ill the painting'. The fact, that thrrc was once the sunnnit level of this p;reat valley, is a stnhhorn one, however dillicidt it may he to reeoneile it with reasonahle causes au*l results; and the mind of fechh- man is at once almost paraly/.cd in endeavouring to eomprehcnd the process hy which the adjacent country, Irom this tc) the hase of the I{,ocky Mountains, as well as in other directions, «'ould have been swept away ; and eipially so, for knowledge of the place where its mighty deposits have hcen carried. I reeolleet to have seen on my way up the river, at the distance of six or «'ight hundred mil(>s below, a place «'alled "the Stpiare Hills," and another denominated *' the Bijou Hills ;" which are the oidy features on the river, seemiig to eorreiipond with this strange rcmitln, and which, on my way down, I shall carefully examine; and not fail to add their testimonies (if I am not mistaken in their «'haraeter) to further speculations on this interest- ing feature of the geology of the great valley of the Missouri. Whilst my men were j 1 engagtid in their a|)ort.ing excursions, I left my easel and travelled to the hase and summit of thes«' tabular hills ; which, to my great surprise, I found to be seven I miles from the river, and a severe journey t(» aeeomplish getting back to our encampiru-nt at nightfall. I found by theirsides that they were evidently of an alluvial (l(;posite, composed of a great variety of horizontal layers of clays of diliorent colours — of granitic sand and pebbles (many of which furnished me beau'iful speciniens of agate, jasper and carnelians), and here nnd there large fragmcnlsof pumice and cinders, which gave, as instances above-mentioned, evidences of volcanic remains. The mode by which Bogard and Ba'tiste had been entrapping tiic timid and sagacious antelopes was one which is fretpiently and suc<;essfully practised in this country ; and on tliis day had afforded thcin fine sport. 76 11 : The antelope of this country, I believe to bo differpnt from nil other known varieties, and forms one of the most plcasint^, hvin<; ornaments to this western world. Tiiey are seen in some pliires in great numbers sporting and playing about the 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, snuffing 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 himself the trouble of travelling after them. When he has been discovered, he has only to elevate above the tops of the grass, his red or yellow hand- kerchief on the end of his gun-rod (plate 40), whi( h he sticks in the ground, and to which they are sure to advance, though with great coyness and caution; whilst he lies (lose, 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 Sundity, departed from our encampment in the Grand Detour; and having passed for many miles, through a series of winding and ever-varying bluffs and fancied ruins, like such as have already been desciibed, our attention was more than usually excited by the stupendous scene (pl/te 41), called by the voyageurs "the Grand Dome," which was lying in full view before us. Our canoe was here hauled ashore, and a liay whiled away again, amongst these cluy-bullt ruin-;. We cltimbercd 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 amusements, which we found in paying a visit to an extensive village of prairie dogs, and of which I should render some account. I have subjoined a sketch (plate 42) of one of these sub-terra 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 thi.s plai'e 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. The prairie dog of the American Prairies is undoubtedly a variety of the marmot ; and probably not unlike those which inhabit the vast Steppes of \i 77 Asia. It bears no rcsemblanoo to any variety of clocks, except in tlie sound of its voice, when excited by the approacli of danger, which is soinethinjj^ hke that of a very small dog, and still much ipore resembling the barking of a grey squirrel. The size of these curious little animals is not far From that of a very large rat, and they are not unlike them in their appenranee. As 1 have said, their burrows are uniformly built in a lonely desert; and away, both from the proximity of timber and water. Each individual, or each family, dig their hole in the prairie, to the depth of eight or ten feet, throwing up the dirt from the excavation, in a little pile, in ihe form of a cone, which forms the only elevation for them to ascend ; where they sit, to bark and chatter when an enemy is approaching their village. These villages are sometimes of several miles in extent; containing (1 would almost say) myriads of their excavations and little dirt hillocks, and to the ears of their visitors, the din of their barkings is too confused and too peculiar to l)e described. In the present instance, we made many fruitless endeavours to shoot them; but found our efforts to be entirely in vain. As we were approaching them at a distance, every one seemed to be perched up on his hind feet, on his appropriate domicil, with a significant jerk of his tail at every bark, positively disputing our right of approach. 1 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 knew the limits of their safety), they sprang down into their holes, and instantly 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 suijected their scalps to danger again, from the aim of a rifle ; wlien they instantly disiippeared 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 length themselves, at full length, perched on the 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, communi- cate into something like a subterraneous city (as I have formerly learned from fruitless endeavours to dig them out), undermined and vaulted ; by which means, they can travel for a great distance under the ground, with- out 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 supposed 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, they are for several months invisible ; existing, un- ■IJ in \i t I > \^^ 78 (ioiilitrdly. in n torpid stnto, ns lliry rcrtainly lny by no food (or timt season — nor can llicy proi-nro nny. 'I'liosc rnrious little iininitilri l)clon(<^ to almost every lilt itiido in tin; viiHt plains of prairie in North America; and their villajjcs, which I have sometimes encountered in my travels, hfvc compelled my party to ride several miles out of our way to pet l»y them ; for their burrows are p;eneraliy within a few feet of each other, and danger- ous to the feet and the limbs of our horses. The sketch of the bluHs denominated " the (irand Dome," of which I spoke but a few moments since, is u faithful delineation of the lines and character of that wonderful scene; and the reader i>as here a just and striking illustration of the ruin-like appearani^es, as I have formerly described, that arc so often met with on the banks of this mighty river. This is, perhaps, one of the most grand and beautiful scenes of the kind to be met with in this country, owin;;; to the perfect appearanee of its several huge domes, turrets, and towers, which were everywhere as precise and as perfect in their forms as they arc 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 s des, by exposure, have become so hardened, that their change is very slo, ; yet they are mostly subjected to continual phases, more or less, tintil 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 voyageur and the tourist, for ages and centuries to come. On Monday, the seventh day from the mouth of the Yellow Stone River, wc Hoatcd 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 sight of it. We too*' u sort of melancholy leave of it — but at every bend and turn in the stream, we were introduced to others — and others — and yet others, 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 eacii 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 250 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. V '\ ill 7,7'A.', k, V ' . • N ^ . ^K \ V ^V -^: H lich Hi I'l'fitliii \ \ \ ^ . ' ■ , .-- ^ ■■> " ;- \ :S, .' V N :.t. X ^-J.,.^ •?!&-:, \-2 I 1 ^'.^'vtfi'/TC ".': I .,1 I i , r, •'?{.■ <. 1^-" ^^' - Calm ■N'j/-- Illy ■■■■>.( ■•■.^ •V .\ v-V ■c-r^y- -^. >^. ,iqTff!'^ T^: ^^ II Mr- ^J\ il. -•>», ^i^!&. in^' o-'X A-.art;.;i; ,. 1.2^. ivlf" ^7 ■0r^,mt.:. , / » * .V - '/ a -> b^-^:'^^ W-i'/.i^'Oi.-^^, (,^^ .^, ■N /(■- ^' -■^'C'i -^ffliW -^ --^"'-^ f ti^ ^■r-T.,fl «i\rite "lii/! •HI' .ifu-r,-. i'l !' Oi Man^ ward Amei Hek to his benef and i *Jf' '9 On this day, just before niglit, we landed our little boat in front of tlie Mandan 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 his 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. 80 LETTER— No. 11. H MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOUUI. I SAID that I was here in the midst of a strange people, which is Hterally true ; and I find myself surrounded by subjects uud scenes worthy the pens of Irving or Cooper ; or the pencils of Raphael or Hogarth ; rich in legends and romances, which would require no aid of the imagination for a book or a pict'.'re. The Manduns (or See-pohs-ka-nu-nah-kah-kee, " people of the phea- sants"), as they call themselves, are perhaps one of the most ancient tribes of Indians in our country. Their origin, like that of all the other tribes is, from necessity, involved in mystery and obscurity. Their traditions and peculiarities I shall casually recite in this or future epistles; which, when understood, will at once, I think, denominate them a peculiar and distinct race. They take great pride in relating their traditions, with regard to their origin ; con- tending that they were the Jirst people created on earth. Their existence in these regions has, undoubtedly, been from a very ancient period ; and, from what I could learn of their traditions, they have, at a former period, been a very numerous and powerful nation ; but liy the continual wars which have existed between them and their neighbo rs, 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 rivtr. They have two villages only, which arc about two miles distant from each other ; and number in all (as near as I can learn), about 2000 souls. Tiioir present villages a.e beautifully located, and judicionsly also, for de- fence against the assaults of their enemies. The site of the lowev (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 built 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) ,^-.1 V y / // fM i / 'MX^ Catun. JOUt brin- and Lhan lUey of J)uilt liich eye jsiiig )Ut) -I y'^Mk K) .inl I'. il , i V ,1 . f, I' , I M i\ -;. ^A>-/t, Mjc-stf^C'L '!i'-l ofdirt- the sen Thes men) ii villages period, contain than at Tlien tive to i speak r niulged, occupiec and hav There seen nee construe! the abo\ commenc I shall gi The gr rably sele bed of th( of solid 1 protects t angle; th done by a depth. 1 and eighte each othei The ditch piquet, in of their er through th The Mai any Indian enemy on t of a stransr room enoug to be built ( the neatnei dwellings. in diameter. the ground, VOL. 1. 81 of dirt — and the thousand spears (not " spires") and scalp-poles, &c. &c., of the semi-subterraneous village of the hospitable and gentlemanly Mfxndans. These people formerly (and within the recollection of many of their oldest men) lived fifteen or twenty miles farther down the river, in ten conti^;uou3 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, of which I shall speak more fully on a future occa^ -"n. 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 sp.lected 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 river, suddenly 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 fortifications) is inside of the piquet, in which their warriors scresn their bodies from the view and weapons of their enemies, whilst they are reloading and discharging their weapons through the piquets. The Mandam? are undoubtedly 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 foundations are prepared by digging some two feet in the ground, and forming the floor of earth, by levelling the requisite size for VOL. I. G mi 'dim 82 ■| ilV' . ^1 IV I 1 4 \l I tlic loiltic Tlicso floors or foundntions iir(> all perfectly eirnilar, and varyintj in size in proportion to the number of inmates, ov of tl»c qnality or standing of the families whieh are to oecnpy them. The superslrueture is then pro- duced, by anani;inn-, inside of this eireular excavation, lirnily lixetl in ihe ground and resting- against, the bank, a barrier or wall of timbers, s(mie eight or nine inches in diameter, of c([ual height about six feet) placed on end, and resting against each other, supported by a formidable embankment of earth raisetl against them outside ; then, resting upon the tops of these timbers or piles, are otheis of e(pnd size and tnpial in numbers, of twenty or twenty- five feet in length, resting tirmly 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 chi'v.ney and a sky-light at the same time. The roof of the lodge being thus formed, is supported by beanjs passing aroimd thi; inner part of the lodge about the middle of these poles or timbers, and tliemselvcs upheld by lour or five large posts passing down to the floor of the lodge. On the top of, and over the poles forming tlu> roof, is placed a complete mat of willow-boughs, of half a toot or more in thickness, which protects the timbers from tlio dampness of tliC earth, with which the lodge is covered from bottom to top, to the depth of two or three feet; and tlien with a hard or tough clay, which is impervious to water, and which with long use becomes (juite 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 hun, fruits of his hard-fonght 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 woidd 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 belcJw 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 with bufilxlo meat; and "round it are the family, reclining in all the most pictures([ue attitudes and groups, resting on their buftalo-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. Tliey all sleep on bedsteads similar in form to ours, but generally not quite so high ; made of round poles rudely lasl:ed together with thongs. A bufl'alo skin, fresh stripped from the animal, is stretched across the bottom poles, and about two feet from the floor; which, when it dries, becomes much con- .i acted, and forms a perfect sacking-bottom. The fur side of this skin is plicKHl uppermost, on which they lie with great comfort, with a buflalo-robe 83 folded up for a pillow, and others drawn over tlioni instead of biankcta. These beds, as far as I have seen them (and I have visited almost every lodj^e in the village), arc uniformly screened with a covering of bnttalo 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 for the occupant to pass in and out, to and from his or her bed. Some of these coverings or curtains are exceedingly l)eautiful, being cut 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 unconnnon thing to see these lodg(!S 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 feci 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 mystery), his bow and 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 som; conju- ror or Indian magician, to guard and protect the spell of wild less that reigns in this strange place), stands forth and in full relief the head and horns of a buffalo, which is, by a village regulation, owned and possessed by every man in the nation, and hung at the head of his bed, which he uses as a mask when called upon by the chiefs, to join in the buffalo-dance, of which I shall say more in a future epistle. This arrangement of beds, of arms, &c., combining the most vivid display and arrangement of colours, of furs, of trinkets — of barbed and glistening points and steel — of mysteries and hocus pocus, together with the sombre and smoked colour of the roof and sides of the 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 sweethcar ■, and embracing 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 wild 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 soenisto have gone forth to the world on this subject. As I have before observed, there is no subject that 1 know of, within the il Il-1 :^ hi ^ 1 ^:i ■ 84 1 1 % scope and reach of liuinan wisiloni, on wliicli the civili/cd world in this cii- h^htrned ajj;c arc more incorrectly int'ornu'd, thainipoii tiint oi'tliu true iiiaii- nors and customs, and moral condition, iiu;lits and abuses, of tli ; NorlU American Indians; and that, as I liave also before remarked, chiefly on account. of the dilliculty of our cultivatint>; a fair and honourable ac(|uaintanee with then), and doinj; them the justice, and ourselves the credit, of a fair and impartial investiijation of their true character. The present a^^e of reline- ment ami research has brought every thing else that 1 know of (and a vast deal more than the 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 his character has Iceome changed, at the approacli of the enlightened and intellectual world ; who follow him like a phantom for awhile, an would 1)0 also stranpo, if a lifo-tiinc of iiuliilL^oiuM' and |)iafti<'n in so iniiocoiit and productive a niodi; of anniscnuiut, free from tin. ares and anxictiosof business or professions, should not advance tlieni in tlieir modes, and enable them to draw far j;rcat(!r pleasure from aueli sources, than we in the civili/cd and l)usiness world can possibly feel. If the uncultivated condition of their minds curtails the number of their en)oyments; yt.t they are free from, and independent of, a thousand cares and Jealousies, which arise fro:n mercenary motives in the civili/ed world; and arc yet far a-liead of ns (in my opinion) in the real and uninterrupted enjoyment of their simple natural faculties. They live in a country and in communities, where it is nut customary to 'ook forward into the future with concern, for they live wi'' incurring; the expenses of life, which arc ai)solutely necessary and una, Mial)le in tlu^ en- li^litened world ; find of course their inclinations and fa(-ulties are soli ly ''irccted to the enjoyment of the present day, without the sober relk'ctions on the past or apj)rehensions of the future. With minds thus unexpandcd and miinflucnced by the thousand passions and and)itions of civilized life, it is easy and natural to concentrate their iho'ights and their conversation upon the little and triHin i'A- i;!]i(iifi![m]' -xll %f- '.Cadvn.. / /<,, ,*..••'»»• In and red V HIM" i""/f""' ' 'a li^V 1 VU ^- ., I ll-ryj >•/,' ■.t ;.-.,QuSa@s®i» (KHIII'IlVlt/IMIiflJ"' ^1 ... . ,i; y mmp Ll inir" ig5^:;»..:-^. 48 C.Catiifi. MverslCx. I ri I ' fi ,'i I ' ■ I P i[ , % (;' I W I iK tl m- U ,] j * ■. ll 'If 89 clotli, or other costly sttiflT, oinired up to the Great Spirit, over tlic door of some l)eniiriiHnt chief, in huinl)le (gratitude for the l)l(!Hsin^s which he is enjoyiiiij;. Such is a part of tlie struii;;e miidh-y that is before and around ine ; and amidst them and the l)lue streams of smoke tliat are rising from tlie to|)S of these hundred "coal-pils," can he seen in distance, the i^teeii and boiiiulless, treeless, hushless prairie ; and on it, anu conti^^uous to the pi(piot which ench)ses tlie 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 ; aiul they are there left to moidder and decay. This cemetery, or place of dcposite for the dead, is just back of the vilhvge, on a level prairie (IM.ATK 4iS) ; and with all its appeari'nces, history, forms, ceremonies, Ac. 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 arc paid to his remains, and the body dressed in its best attire, painted, oiled, feasted, and supplied with bow and quiver, shield, pipe and t()l)acco — knife, flint and steel, and provisions enough to last hint 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 arc soaked in water, till they are quite soft and elastic, 'vhich 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 the 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 buck, 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, " the 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 wil' give attention to the respect and devotions that are paid to tliis sacred placo, he will draw many a moral deduction that will last him through life s l.c will learn, at least, that filial, conjugal, and paternal afi'ection are not necessarily the results of civilization ; but- that the Great Spirit has given them to umi? in his native state ; and that the i !•« ii* If I f m I 1 I' 1 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 respect and sympathy for the poor Indian, if he never felt it before. Fathers, mothers, wives, and children, may be seen lying under these scaffolds, prostrated upon the ground, with their faces in the dirt, howling forth incessantly the most piteous and heart-broken cries and lamentations for the misfortunes of their kindred ; tearing 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 a hundred or more on the prairie — placed 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 jbjects 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 three feet high, on which uniformly rests 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 curious 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 resort, to evince their further affections for the dead— not in groans and lamentations however, for several years have cured the anguish ; but fond affections and endearments are here renewed, and conversations are here held and cherished with the dead. Every one 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 chilu, 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 more their langua seemin womar sitting while overco forgett returns Thti which ; the one and af dead. The crania, legist; of imp( scicntif lias |)r re- pup ; jfthe I skull dis- , the )vina: 91 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 most pleasant and endearing language that they can use (as they were wont to 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 it, 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. 1 and Dole," and cting eople i and fond here this and .but })2 //V L1<:TTER -No. 13. MANDAN VIl.LACJr,, UPPER MISSOUlll. 4; ?.' ¥ IP i In several of n\y Connor Lottors I have ^ivon sketches of the viUajj^, and some few of the customs of these peculiar people ; and I have nmny more yet in store ; some of which will inchuM the readers to laugh, and others .•Iniost dispose thcin to weep. Hut at present, 1 drop then), and introduce a few of the wild and gentlemanly Mandans themselves ; and first, Ha-nti- tah-tui-mauh, the wolf ohief (plate 49). This man is head-ehief of the nation, and fan\iii;trly known liy the name of " Chef de Loup," as the I'icnch Traders oall him ; a haughty, austere, and overbcariu}:; man, re- sfiocted and feared by his people rather than loved. The tenure by which this man holds his oilice, is that by which the head-chiefs of most of the tribes claim, that of inheritance. It is a ijeneral, though not an infallible rule amongst the numerous tribes of North American Indians, that the oflice of chief belongs to the oldest son of a chief; provided he shews himself, by his conduct, to be C(|ually worthy of it as any other in the nation ; making it hercilitary on a very proper condition — in default of which reipiisites, or others which may happen, the otHce is elective. The dress of this chief was one of great extravagance, and some beauty ; manufactured of skins, and a great nund)er 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,tiiough second in office is undoubtedly the first and niost popular man in the nation. Tree, generous, elegant and gentlemanly in his de|>tu tnient — handsome, brave and valiant ; wearing a robe on his back, with the history of his battles enddazoned on it ; which would fill a book of themselves, if properly translated. This, readers, is the most extra- ordinary man, perha}is, who lives at this day, in the atmosphere of Nature's noblemen ; and 1 shall certainly tell you more of him anon. After him, there are Mah-tahp-ta-ha, he who rushes through the middle (iM.ATF. 50) ; Seohk-hee-da, the mouse-coloured feather (im.atk 51) ; San- ja-ka-ko-kali (the deceiving wolf); Mah-to-he-ha (the old bear), and others, distingnislied as chiefs and warriors — and there are belles also; such as Mi-ncek-o-sunk-te-ca, the mink (i'Latf, 53) ; and the little gray- haired Sha-ko-ka, mint (vlate 51) ; and fifty others, who are famous for lA V ^" Ciud/,, yy^-, /f /<■ c - *y .' /. >u\6:\ v/ •■ .>^;- ■ v:';.^ .-.r; ^..' .j/J ui'-^i C _ .,,,.-.■ \ .)(» i ■;■' ■ ''ill' lii'i'ilf I '.'■ Ctttinn, /;•/"«' ■■''.v AW. ). I 93 tlicir conqiiesls, not with the bow or the javelin, but witli their small bhick eyes, which shoot out from under thf" unfledged brows, and pierce* the boldest, fiercest chieftain to the heart. The Mandans are certainly a very interesting and pleasing jvoplc in their personal appearance and manners ; differing in many respects, both in looks and customs, from all oiner tribes which I have seen. They are not a warlike people ; for they seldom, if ever, carry war into their enemies' country ; but when invaded, shew their valour and courage to be equal to that of any people on earth. Being a small tribe, and unable to contend 01 the wide prairies with the Sioux and other roaming tribes, who are ten times more numerous; they have very judiciously located themselves in a permanent village, which is strongly fortified, and ensures their preservation. By this means they have advanced further in the arts of manufacture ; have supj)lied their lodges more abundantly witli the comforts, and even luxuries of life, than any Indian nation I know of. The coiiseijuence of this is, that this tribe have taken 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 Trader? and others, who have been amongst them, " the polite and friendly Mandans." There is certainly great justice in the remark ; and 30 forcibly have I been 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- pendant of their modes and customs, pronounces them 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 liim ; and is at once almost disposed to exclaim that " the.ie are not Indians." There are a great many of these people whose complexions appear as light as half breeds ; and amongst the women paiticularly, 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 conip'oxion I cannot tell, nor can they themselves ?.. 'I W'\ i>4 . < i t.| I'. ! : account, for it. Their traditions, so I'at as I have yet learned tlicni, allnrd us no inlbiniatioii of tiieir liavinj; had any knovvlcdjj^t! of wliite men before the visit of Lewis and Chirke, made to their viila'^e tliirly-three years ap;o. Since that time there have l)een but very few visits from wliite men to this place, and surely not enough to have changed the complexions and the customs of a nation. And 1 recollect perfectly well that (lovernor (Marke told me, before I started for this place, that I would fmd the Mandans a strange people and half white. The diversity in the colour of hair is also ecpially as great as that in the complexion; for in a numerous group of these people (and nuirc particularly amongst the females, who never take pains to change its natural colour, as the men often «lo), there may be seen every shade and cohmr of hair that can be seen in our own country, with the exception of red or auburn, which is not K) be found. And there is yet one more strange and unaccountable peculiarity, which can probably be seen nowhere else on earth; nor on any rational grounds accounted for, — other than it is a freak or order of Nature, for which she has not seen tit to assign a reason. There are very many, of both sexes, and of every age, from infancy to maidiood and old age, with hair of a bright silvery grey ; and in some 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, %vhich spreads over their shoidders and falls as low as the knee. I have ascertained, on a carefid ciu]uiry, that about one in ten or twelve of the wliole 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 iniforndy 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, tliat all other primitive tribes known in America, are dark copper-coloured, with jet bluck 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 novlty and mysteries to the knowledge of u strange, yet kind and hospitable, people, whoso fate, like that of all their race, is sealed ; — 9G and their eful the un- it is iciites ougli and oins, range rough Ivind I'd;— wliosc doom is fixed to live just long enougii to be imperfectly known, and tlien 10 fall ix-fore the fell diseasr or sword of eivili/iiig devastation. Tlmslaiuie of (lie Mandaiis is rather helow the ordinary size of man, with luiaiilifnl symmetry of form and proportion, and wonderful suppleness and t'laslicity; they are pleasingly erect ami graceful, both in their walk and their attitudes ; and the hair of tlu; men, which generally spreads over their hacks, falling down to the hams, and sometimes to the ground, is divided into plaits or slabs of two inches in width, and iilled with a profusion of g'an; and red earth or vcrmillion, at intervals of an inch or two, which becoming v(!ry hard, remains in and unchanged from year to year. This motle of dressing the hair is curious, and gives to the Mandans the most singular appearance. The hair of the men is unilbr nly all laid over from the forehead backwards ; carefully kept above and resting on the ear, and thence falling down over the back, in these flitlened bunches, and painted rod, extending olU'ntnncs ((uite on to the calf of the leg, and some- times in such profusion as almost to conceal the whole figure from the por- suii walking behind them. In the portrait of San-ja-ka-ko-kah (the deceiv- ing wolf, I'l.Arr, .01), where he is represented at full length, with several others of his family around him in a group, there will be seen a fair ilhistra- tiou of these; and other customs of these people. The hair of the women is also worn as long as they can possibly cidtivatc it, oiled very often, which preserves on it a beautiful gloss and shows its natural colour. They often braid it in two large plaits, one falling down just back of the car, on each side of the head ; and on any occasion which recjuires them to " put on their best looks," they pass their fingers through it, drawing it out of braid, and spreading it over their shoulders. The Mandan women observe strictly the same custom, which I observed amongst the Crows and Blackfcet (and, in fuct, all other tribes I have seen, without a single exception), of parting the hair on the forehea''., and always keeping the crease or separation filled with vermillion 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 are obliged to crop their hair all ofl'; 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 (juitc diflferent ; his long, valued tresses, are of much greater importance, and only a lock or two can be 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 while men in their \ ! I'! •; 96 fi. ' : r country has been fiiondly and kind rvr since thfir first acquaintance with tluMu — tlicy liiivc ever met and received them, on the prairie or in their villutjes, witli hospitality and honour. They arc handsome, strai^lif and elegant in their forms — not tall, hut quick and fjraceful; easy and polite in their manners, neat in their pcrjons and beautifully clad. When 1 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 enli- secution of their almost continued warfare, when it becomes necessary to ^: 7 . » 1 ■. t L-- M . .^ . 1) I I 1 *■ li- 1 ■''■; i II 18 H)^ 1 . 07 |)liin{7G into an«l swim nrrntn tlio wildosf sfrpama and rivers, at times wlicii tlicy luivv nn chiiocs or criit't in whirli to rroMs tlu>m. I have ns yot Keen no tribe where tins art is nei^leotod. It is learned nt a very early ajje by Itotli Hexes, and enables tlie stroii;^ and liardy muscles ofllic^ s(|uaws to take tlieir child npun the buck, and Hucccssi'ully to pass any river timt lies in tht^ir way. The mode of swimming amongst the Mandans, as w<'ll as nmoni^st niost of the other tribes, is (|nile diH'ercnt from that priieticed in those [larts of the civili/.ed world, which I have had the pleasure yet to visit. Tht: Indian, instead of parting his hands simultaneously under tht; chin, and making the stroke outward, in a horizontal diriulion, causinu; thV\ Mil ViJI'. riM'TH Aii'-^orui. 11 U- S', 'Viu Mjiwilnns in mum iii^dnni'* iltiwq \('iv ni".\llv. nini sonic oC lli!>ni ■jj^lnnlullv. A« 'In y nn' in \\\v\\ uM'nc s1i\1i'. (Inii ilirsscB nic i\ll iW tlu'ir own nninnl'inlnn' ; \vu\ o( x'own'. nlloii,rtlnM n\nili> ol' skins l^^ll>n^:n\'J, to iIuko vi'i^ions. I'licn' is. r»Ml'.iinlv. n icijJitinji "nil sliikinti siniiliWilx ol costiunc ;nnono,sl most nl' \\\o Novlli W'cslcm liilii's; ;Yi\\\ \ ci\\\\\o\ siw ll\;\( \\\v (lnNs ol' llu' IMnndinifl is (IcoidiMllv tlislincl lioni i1k\( o( tl\o ('ro\x« ov llio IMm-kficl. the Assininboins or ll\i' Simix ; \c\ ihvrv Mv "odrs ol sin('l\n\ii' <>v cnilniniltMlnii. in ovotv liil>r. «l\n'li ni;i\ M owi-c rni^Mo the ttiwrllov. who is l';unilii\r with thon nioilcs. to (h'icci ov ilislin^uish tho ih ^ss ol' onv t\ioo. I'ltcso (lilVciiMiocs cyitsisl omoiully in thi^ I'i^shions {■>( lonstvnotint; iho hoi\(l-il\os«. or ol' ^mtiishinii- their dtvssos with tho lunx-npnio (]nills, which lh(>v \is(< \\\ (iirut jMornsion, Atiioinjst so niiMW (iH^iMiMit lonl (li^tnnM n;\tions, ;Uwnvs nl w;\v with oiu'h ■Mhow annii> nothniii ><' 'M of o;\oh other's li\niiiiii>)os ; \\\u\ lunoniist wlioni. f;ishio\is in dress sohhMii it" «nor ehnntio ; it n\nv scent soniewlinl sir;uip' tliiU W(^ sl\iM)hl I'ind tliese )>e(>|>h' so neiirlv loUowinj:, ov nnilidinii (Well othnii tuo'h^s ol then ss ;\ntl orn;nnenls. This mnsl. liowmiM. l>e ;»iin\ille(i. and I think ttinv be ;\eeon\>tetl lor in it tniumer. w ithoni raisni'i tlie h\isl iUiinnu^nt in l';\\onr ol' tlie theory ol' their h:t\in>: nil spinnii t'rom one stoek o\ one l';tniil\ : fov u\ \\\c\\ eontnmnl wju tin e, when i'hiel's <^r wnniors Inll. tlnMr elothes and wt^ipons tisi. Uv tall into the possession ol' the vietoi-s, wh.i wear them ; ami the \esl oi' the lul^e would nalnrallv more or h^ss odes ol" dress. ,Ve. of the dilViMvnt tribes. The tnnio or shut ol" the Mandau men is yery similar in shape lo ihat ol' tlie IMaekfivt— mad*" ol" two skins ol" deer ov monntain-shoop. sirnnp, with yoalj^-loeks. Ivads. and ermine. Tho lo^pngs, like thos(^ of the othiM- r ,bes. of whom 1 haye s]vken. are made of (Ii>mIi side of ilio skin fiiritiiisly (iriitiincMl' 'I witli pii'liMi'il io|inwiiliilinii4 nl flic cn'ililitlili- cvi'iits iiml hiitllcK iiC iIkii livrs. Tlifir ImmuJ ilii's«cs ill!' (if vniiiiiis Biuts, iukI inimy dl' llinii cKcecdiiijily |)i«'lMr('Hi|iiP mid linndsniiK' ; i^i'iiiMidly iiiiidn id" W!ir-pnu;los' nr riivoris (|iiillR niiil piiiiiii»<. 'I'lif'si- iiii> 111!' iiiim) nistly piirf id' iiii liiilifin's (Ires'* ill till this ('(iiintiv, owinti tii llic diHiciilty of' |M(i('iiriiitr llip ((iiills iiiid the If ermine tlie rme^'t (in. lie WHi ctii), le I lein:' III runt nriK, IIIKl II (iiiiniid lli!il is round in the coiiiitry. The lull oC n wjir cii^le in III. line BIX or ci; this villniJi'. provided it is ii perl'eel one, contnininir m 'piills, which sire deiKiminnled (irsi nili^ pinnies, iind sniliilile to miiintje in ',\ lienil dress, will pnrehiise ii lolenilile ^iiod horse (horses, however, iire inni*h I'heiiper here tliiin they me in most otiirr eoiintries). ( Inive liiid idiimdmit upportiinities ol' Iptirnina; the ^rKMit vidne which these people some limes Hitindi to such mtieles of diesfl iiiid ornmnent, jis I hiivi! heeii pnri'hiisiiii^ ;« i>ieiil inmiy, which I intend to pliiee in my (tidlery (d fndimi I'uintinns. lhiit,the world niity exmnine them lor themselves, mid therehy lie ennhled to jinl^e ol' the lidelity of my works, mid the in^^ennity of Indiiin mm>nl'iietnres. In these piirchnseM I huve often heeii surprised iit. the prices (himmided hy tlieni; mid peihiips I could not recite n l)(!tl(M' inslmiee of the kind, tlimi one which occurred here ii lew diiys since ; — Oik; of the ••hiefs, whom I liiid puinted :\\ full lenulli. in ii liemilifnl ''osinmc, with heiid-diess of wiir- cii^l 's (|nills mid ermine, extendinu, ipiite down to his feet; mid whom I Wiis soliciting tor the pnrchnse of his dri'ss complete, was willing to sell to nic all lint tlio lieinl-dress ; snyiiifr, llmt " In; could not |)iirt with Iiml, us he would never lie iilile to jret ] I0(i 'I'licv llu'n walked up to mo in llic most (rciitio ninni\rr. Iiikinir nic in timi 1)V (Ik' liand, will) n limi jiiip ; \vill\ liomi iiiiil eyes inrlincil tliiwii nis. and in a (one a lilllc altuM' a whisper prononnred llie words " (e Im- \va po nee VVnsli po ){( Old walked oil. I leaders, at tlval moment I was ennsleneil willi a new and a ^.rea! name - one l>Y wineli I am now f'an\iliarly luiiliMl, and talked ol' in (Ins village ; and no doid)( will bo, as long as traditions last in this strange etnmnnnily. I'liat moment ennl'erred ;• \ hcnonr on me, wliieli \on as vet do not under stand. I look t! ■ liegv • ,">\ oC Doetor of Laws, nor Maehelor ol' Arts) ol' Master of Arts — i' ■ i.. . it>s- ol niagie, ami ol hoens poens. I was reeoy, uized in that short ;. ^um ? , ■ n. " great mnliriur whitf vni» ;" and siiieo that tinjo. have horn ..wlarly ' .stalled mrdiciiip or mystery, whieh i.s the most lionon\al>le degree that eosi.o ^e eonl'erred npon me here ; and I now hold a |>la(~(> amongst the most eminent and envied personages, the doelois and eonpirati ot this tilled eommnnitv. To-ho-pe-noe \\'ash-e(> (or medieme while man) is Ihr name I now go hy, and it will jirove to me. no donhl, oi' more value than gold, I'or I have heen eall('«l upon and I'easled by the doctors, who are all myslery-nion ; and it has been an easv and snt'eessl'id passport already to many slrang(> and iny* terious plaees ; and has put me in possession ol' a vast deal of <'nrioiiH ami int(M(^sting inrormalion. wliieli I am sure I never should have otherwise learned. I am daily growing in the estimation ol' the medieine-men and the ehiels ; and by assuming all the gravity and eirenmspi-elion due Irom so high a ilignitarv (and even eonsidorably more) ; and endeavouriiii; to ]i(Mlorm now and then some art or Iriek that is unlalhomable. I ani in hopes o'( supporting my standing, iinlil the great annual eereiiitMiy eoin- menees ; on which oeeasion, 1 may possibly b(^ allowed a seal in the wrdi- cinr-I(i(hjr bv llu^ doiiois. who are the sole eonduelois ol' this gnal suiiriu' and fountain o\' all jirieslerafl and eonjiiralion in this eounlry. Aflov 1 had rmislied the portraits of the two ehii>fs, and they had returned to their wigwams, and deliberali^ly seated themselves by their respeelive lire-sides, and sileiitlv smoked a pipe or two (aeeordiiig to an universal eustomV they graduallv began to 1(^11 what had taki-n plaee ; and at length crowds of gaping listeners, with months wide open, thronged their lodges; and a throng o\' wnmen and girls won" about my house, and through every crack and crevice 1 could .see their glistening pyt^s, which were piercing my hut in a hundred places, from a natural and restless pro- pensity, a curiosity to sec what was going on within. An hour or more passed in lliis wav. and the sofl 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. Ouring this time, not a man made his appearance about the premises — after awliilc, however, they could be seen, folded in their robes, gradually sidiiit/ u[> towards the lodge, with a silly look upon their faces, wliich confessed al. 107 <»n("f' tliiil ctiridiity wns lrit' JIhmii r('lin'ln?ifly, wlifrr tlioir |iii(li' rlifckpd iiii'l liiibmlr tlirm Ifi \rit. 'I'lic rimli smxi nlfer Imtiuih' ^immthI, imd tlin cliicls mill iiii'diiiiic men l(»()k |Mimc«sii»ii iiC my lodiii, pliinnn ^rtAZ/rrt (liriivrs Willi «|M iiiH ill their liiiiiiU) lit tli)< ilnin, iiiiiiiil.tiii^; no oiif, lint siicli us wimi; allnwrd liy tlii> i'lii( <<\pliiiiiril In llii'iii niv vuwh tuid llic olip'rls I'm witicli I was piiiiiliii^ tlicsc pmlrails ; mid iil;«i rx|i(Mindi'd In tlii'iii llic nimiiii i in wliicli tliiiy wcin Hindi',— 111 wliicli they s' tnicd nil tu lie very iiiim li piniscd. Tim necessity 111 ll'" tinio ol' exposing; llio pnrtiiiils to tlir view 'd' the einwda wlir» were iissei. tilled mound the Imnse, iMcnnie ini|ieriitive, mid lliey were heli' ip together over the door, so llial llie whole villiiire had a ehaiire to se ind recni;ni/e their ehn l^*. The elleet iipini so mixed ti innllitnde, who "^ ye' had heard in way of iieeonnlin^ lor them, wan novel and really hr ; Me. The likeiicRHi's worn instantly rreonnized, and many ol' the t!;ii|>i'iK ' '••' ''*• eoinmeni-ed yelping ; some were slampin;^ oil in the jarrint^ danc". — <. vjy were Hiiij^inn, mid olheiH ii(^',"i" were eryini^ InindM'dH eovi n^d I'l r nionths with their hands and were miite; others, indignant, drove their sp^ • " i^ht- I'lilly into IIk! j;ronnd, and some thiew a reddi ned ariow al the sun, and Weill home to llieir wi^;wanis. 'The [lift iircs seen, — the, next curiosity was to sec; the man who made them, mid I vviirt called Corlli. Ileaders ! iC yon have any imai;ination, save, me the Iroiiltle ol' p liiitinj;' this scene. # * * ■* '" ■* * I st(!|iped forth, iiiid was instantly ln'mm(Nl ill in t.he throiij^. Women were jj;apin^ and ^a/iin;; and warriors and liiavi's were oH'erin^ mo their hands, — whilst little hoys and ^i^ls, by dozens, wore slriijinlini; through the. crowd to touch me. with the ends of their rmt;('rs ; and whilst 1 was ei!^;at!;ed, fioni thi; waist ii|iwards, in feridint; oiY the tliron^ and .shakinf; hands, my le^s were assailed (not iinliki! the nihhlnii^ of little (isli, when 1 have. Ihh'.ii standiiK^ in doe|) wat(T) by children, who wore noepiii;;- between the leji,« of the bystanders for the, curiosity or lionoiir of toiK^hin^ nu- with the end of their fini^er. 'i'hc ea^f^ curiosity and I'xprossioii of astonishment with which they ^a/ed upon irie, plainly shewed that they looked upon me as some strange and iin.iccoiintaiiie beinj^. 'I'liey prononiici'd me the (greatest niedicinc-itinn in the worhl ; for they saifl 1 had made llvliii/ lnhnjs, — thoy said they could see their chiefs alive, in two places — those that I had made were a lilllc alive — they coiihl see their eyes move— conid see them smile and liiiinh, and tliat if they coiihl laiii;h they could certainly speak, if they should try, and tliey must therefore have soini; lift; in them. 'I lu; sipiaws f^enorally aj^reed, tiiat they had discovered life enoiitdi in tticni to render my mcdkinv. too great for llit; Manduna ; saying that such an Till '< : 'i ' f\ iCy OM iiii'iitliiM) I'liiilil iinl 1)1' pi'irniini'il uillixiil (iikini> inviiv IVniii tlii< iirii'iiiiil nivMiiMliinii ol luM cHJ^ItMirr, wliiili I |miI in llii< pnliiM', iiinl ihrv ciiiilil hic i( l\ii \i\ conlil mn' i( t\u 1. ii« riiilinlni': (i| llir iiDlMiiil I'MMlcnrr, Im tin' |iMi|inm' nl' iimtilliiit' lid' iiir> ll\t' si'i'iniiliii y I'Mi'. llii'V \illiitM> iniiiii'iliiili'lv. riiiil liiiil liii'k wiiiilil liii|i|ii'ii In llinm' wlumi I |iniiili'i! lliiil I wiin In liikt' II |im( nl' llii' rxislciii'i' nl llinsr wliuili I )i,nnl(Ml. mn! rmiv it liniiu> «illi llllMllllnll^^l llm wliilc |i('m»l(>, nml (Iml wlicii llii'V ilii'tl llit'v «nii!il iirvri hIi'i'Ii ijiiii'l in (lii'ii pjiivri." ' III III IH Wiiv llii' wnnnn mnl sniiu' nlil i|iiiii'k iiii'iiicnii' iiii'ii Injicllii'.r, liiii III siu''i'i'ili li in imxiiii; i\n nppnHilion iiiiiiiiHl nii' ; iiiiil llio rciiNims ,)Im'v Ini llii'ii HiipiTHtitioim HHSii>in'il wcio sn plmimhli' mnl sn cMirllv snili'i (I'l'Ini!;*. I'kiI tlu'v rniiipli ii'lv sinii'idcil in I'Viilnut Ii'iiim iriiil ii ^cinMnI pmiic m till' ni'iiiN nl' ii iiniiil>rr nl' cliii I'm wlin liml iijvnnil In »il Jiir tlirir pnvlrmls, \\\u\ my npornlinn* weir, nl" rnnv^i'. I'm bcvcjniI il^vs rumplt'U'ly nl \\ sliiml. A i:i;iM' rniiiuil \\ii« liclil nn llu' milip'rl (Vnin (lay lo dny, mill HuMc scomrii |M('i\I ilillinillv in ilrciiliiiii wlr.il \\;is In ln' dune willi mi- mid llio dansViMniis -111 wliifli I whm pimliiMii;: ; mid wliirh lind lm rvciM-di'd (lirii oiijjfinid ONpi'cliiliniis. I liiiiillv nnl iidniillinni'Vi (lirir hiu'UmI niiu'liivc, i\nd nss\in'd llh'in lli;il I wns hnl ;\ ninii liko^lunisclM's, ||«iil my ml liiiil nn vifificinr m mvsti'iy al'oiil il. l>iil rniild l>i' Icmiii'd I'y any nl' llicm il" llwy would prai'lirc il as lnnn ; where thev waiti^d with impalienee lor the eomplelioii of eaeli one's pieliMV. that ihey eoiild deeide as lo the likeness as it eamo lioiu under the brush : that they oould laiii^h. and yell, and siiiii- i< mnv soiij;, and smoke a jWsh pipe lo the health and sueeess ol' him who had just heeu safely deli\or(\l trom the hands and the mvstie operation ot' the "vhitc mrdiciiit." In eaeh ol" these operations, as they siieeesslully took plaee. I ohserved tlial a pijv or two were well tillotl, and as so(Mi a.<« I eommeneed painliiiii'. th(^ ehiets and bvaM^s. who sat around the sidi^s ol" the lodt;e, eommeneed sniokiuc ("or the sueeess ^^l" the pieture (^aiul probahlv as niiieh or more so l(^r tlie sate delivevanee ot" the sittiv Iroiu harm while iiiuh r the operation); I(l' Ii'MII IM'dVl' lull li;i|i|iv III IIIMlillMt iiir' II iiiiisl V itl tliriy. 1 Hinni' wiiV, lull I iiin^l iitm> wliDiii i> wIiiiHi I (lull wlll'll Mlio.i', liixl ISIIIIH ,tln'V i|ii>i'HliliiiiiM ;> ^ciu'lul I jinr tlirii iipli'lrlv ii< ( (luy, mill til iiii< mill rxi'i'i'ilcd 1 nnu'hivi'. mi liiiil nil III il' llit'V III well' of JlilVC llll'll liiiiis mill (i iIk'ssimI liitliriilly iliMit, :iiii>llllllt v/im • llltl|lll'llMl. Ill ilfH wiiv I |iiiM'M"«t('iimii')I with niuii' I irilily iiiiil mii'o'^s, liv lliilli'iiiii' 1111)1 ) iim|ilimi'nliii|', <'ii)'li niii' on lii>4 (mhuI IniikH iil'tir I IiimI t^iit II liuiM', mill tiikiii^ lllllll .1) I iikIiiii; In liiiik, )ii sUniliiii;, iiDikm^', it II miitlri III iMiiniiir with tlii'in, wliicli |ili'im)')l llii'iii « mill my ml llii> Ntiiin|Mir n >4|ii>('liiliilily nl (mh'c. I WHS llll'll liiki'ii liy ill)' iiiiii liy llll' I'liirlx, mi'l lid In tin ii IhiI'.m k, wIiito Il ;mlH well' |iii'|iiii<'il 1)11 nil' m rli'i^iiiit style, /'. r. iii lli<' lii-^l miiimir wliicli tl ijn nniiitrv iiUniils iiiiil lit'in^ li')| liy til)' mm, mid wili'iimi)! to tluin liy iliiifh'iin'ii III liiu,li mid < hhIIiiI i'l'i'liiiirs, Diidoiol lliiiii in my I'ntimiilioii liiilv I'Iruiinl. I WHS vviiiti'd ii|>oii ill dill' loini iind ri'D'Hiniiy liy llii' mndirlne mm, vvlio ri'i'i'ivrii mr ii|Min ilii "1)1 iiiliii;!', " Siiiiilin Niinili ^mnlrl." I wiih iiivitiil to ,1 li'iisl, mill tlii'y |iicsi'nli'il mr ii sli.r-iilirr-i/inii, :,, ii diirt.oi'H iiiltli:, and also a mii'^iiiil wand, m a ilorloi 's slall, kIiiiiii; willi clawH ol" llir ^li/./ly licm, willi liMiils III llir aiilrlo|M' -Willi I'lnimi' willi wild sa^)' and lial'M wini;'M and |iriTiiiiii'il willial willi iId' i:liiiirn anil Kiivniirij odoiii oi' tlii' |iiili' rat a do^i was Knnilici'd and liiiinr |»y iIk! Ii i-* over my wi;;wain, .iiid I was tlii'ii'loir 'iiid llii'ii'liy inilialid into (and ('oiiiilrnancril in llic |iia('tirij ol) till' airaiii ul' ini'ditii i myslriy, and considrii'd a I'diow of flm J'lx- tiaonlinmy So)i('ty ol ('iinjuinti. Siiirr tliis si.^nal nnrccss and irood rorlniic in my o|ii'ratioiis, tliiiii;H liuvc. iniiii' on very |ili>asaiilly, and I liavr liad a ^ical. deal ol' iiiiiiisiini'nt. Somi; alli'H'aliiin lias lakiii pliiri', liowi'V)i, amongst llir elm Is anil liiaves, with ii'iJiird to Klaiidiiii; or lank.ol' wliii li lliey me exeee)lini.^ly lealmm; ami tliey iiiiisl sit (il'at all) ill i'e^,'iilar order, aeeoidin^ In tliat rank ; tlie. tronlilc is all sillied at last, liowever, and I have had no want id snIijeilH, llioii(;li a ureal many have lieeome iij^ain alarmed, and are iinwillint; to sit, Cur Tear, as Home say, that they will die |ii'eimit!iiely il' puintcd ; and as othi-rH say, that il' lliey are |iaiiile)l, tlie|iieliire will live ul'ter they arc dcail, and thc^y eamiol sleep i|iiiel in their ^.raves. I have had several iiiosl. n;inarkal)le oeeiirrenei'H in my paintiii'^ rooiri, of this kind, which have madi! me some everlasting enemies here ; though the minds and reelings of the ehiel's and imdicine-men have not been iiflected liy them. There has lieeii lliree or loin iiislaiiees where proud and asjjirin^ yoiiiip,' men have lieen in my Indue, and after j;a/.iiij; at the portraits of the head ehiel' aeniss the room (which sits lookiiej, them in the eyes), have raised their hands befon! ihiMr laces and walked amiiiul to the side of the lodf;);, on the viu,ht or left, from whence to take a loiijjj and fair side-look at tla; chief, instead of sturin;;' him lull in the face (wlueh is u most unpardouablu oflenee l\'.:S \ i;'M no ! in all liiiliaii Iribos) ; and at'tor having ^ot in that position, and oust their eyes !ij;niii upon the portrait wiiicii was yet h)()kiii<; them full in the lace, have thrown their robes over their heads and bolted out of the wigwam, filled etpially with astonishment and indignation; averring, as lliey always will in a sullen mood, that they "saw the eyis move," — thatas they walked around the room "the eyes of the portrait followed them." With these unfortunate gentlemen, repeated ellbrts have been niaile 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 is always evidence enough for them ;" that they always " believe their own eyes sooner than a hundred tongues," and all eH'orts 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 scource; 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 Bnd 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 ou 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, lie told me, that " he had no inimical feelings towards me, although he had been 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, and 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 ;ne 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 wigwam and eat, and in a little while I will come, and you may go to work ; " — another pipe was lit and smoked, and he got up and went off. I prepared my canvass and pa- H "i!l I cust tlioir II tliu (ace, l; wij^wam, iilvvaya will ked uruund infortumitc also by the 2in of tlieir ixplunatioii s evidence iicr than a my room I ul. •ce; one of ly domicil, verc inside materially lied him in with me ; 1 had been tnd out his traordinary r particular n as I had less out of rork easily 1 prepared stice. He )ned mc to 5 was over, gh he had ! who iiad and chil- emble, yet ead of my Q no harm cine-man.' hiefs ; but f all know nude alive I you who in a little as lit and i and pa- Hi I ?p 11 I*! \ 'u ,!i!i'-; :* ;S .'■xtf: .. .).) l/v. v*(.- 11 lotte, aiul whistled away the time until twelve o'clock, before he made his appearance ; havinfz; used the whole ot" the fore-part of the day at his toilette, arranging his dress and ornamenting his body fur his picture. At that hour then, bedaubed and streaked with paints of various colours, with bear's grease and charcoal, with medicine-pipes in his hands and foxes tails attached to his heels, entered Mah-to-he-hah (the old bear, I'l.ATE Bf)), with a train of his own profession, who seated themselves around him ; and also a number of boys, whom it was re([uested should remain with him, and whom I supposed it possible might have been pupils, whom he was instructing in the mysteries of materia mrdicu and hoca poca. He took his position in the middle of the room, waving his eagle 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 ; he lies for hours together, day after day, in my room in front of his picture, gazing intensely upon it; lights my pipe for me while 1 am painting — shakes hands with me a dozen times on each day, and talks of me, and enlarges upon my medicine 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 described another sort of personage, that is often seen stalking about in all Indian conununities, a kind of nondescript, with whom I have been somewhat annoyed, and still more amused, since I came to this village, of whom (or oi which) I shall give some account in my next epistle. '•lii I m ht:f1 "XI 112 ■ 'I'li LETTER— No. IG. MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURL !l^ ! ; I >;i Besides chiefs, and braves and doctors, of whom I have lioretofore spoken, there is yet another cliaracter of whom I must say a few words before I proceed to other topics. The person I allude to, is the one mentioned at the close of my last Letter, and familiarly known and countenanced in every tribe as an Indian bemi or dnndi/. Such jk i onaf^es may be seen on every pleasant day, strutting- and paradint>; around ihf village in tin most beatitiful and unsoiled drcHses, without the honourable trophies however of scalp locks and claws of the ^jrizzly bear, attached to their costume, for with such thingrs they deal nut. They air .lot peculiarly anxious to h izard their lives in equal and honourabii' combit with the one, or disposed to cross the path of the other ; but generally remain about the village, to lake care of the women, and attiie themselves in the skins of such animals as they can easily kill, without seeking the rugged clirts for the war-eagle, or visiting the haunts of the grizzly bear. They plume thei.iselves v/itli swan's-down and (piills of ducks, with braids and plaits of sweet-scented grass and other harmless and unmeaning ornaments, which hnve no other merit than they themselves have, that of looking pretty and ornamental. These clean and elegant gentlemen, who are very few in each tribe, are held in very little estimation 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- fore but little n^spected. They seem, however, to be tolerably well contented with the appellation, together with the celebrity they have acquired amongst the women and children for the beauty and elegance of their personal appearance; and most of them seem to take and enjoy their shore of the W(/rld"s pleasures, although they are looked upon as drones in society. These gay and tinselled bucks may be seen in a pleasant day in all their plumes, astride of their pied or dappled ponies, with a fan in the right hand, made of a turkey's tail — with whip and a fly-I)rush attaclied to the wrist of the same hand, and underneath them a white and beautiful and soft pleasure- saildle, ornamented with porcupine (piills and ermine, parading through and lounging about the village for an hour or so, when tlicy will cautiouslv bond their course to the sulnirbs of the town, where they will sit 1 ;' 11 toforc spoken, ords before 1 ntioned at the iiiccd in every seen on every most beautiful of scalp locks th such fliincrs their lives in - - the path of of the women, pan easily kill, the hainits of and quills of other harmless ley themselves each tribe, arc xsnuich as it is and are dono- md are there- well contented uired amongst their personal shore of the society, ay in all their w ri^ht hand, o the wrist of soft ploasure- ading through \vn tliey will e thev will sit or recline upon their horses (ur an hour or two, overlooking the l)eautifid games where the braves and the young aspirants are contending in manly and athletic amusements ; — when they are fatigued with this severe effort, they wend their way back again, lift off their fine white saddle of doe's-skin, which is wadded with buffalo's hair, turn out their pony — take a little refreshment, smoke a pipe, fan themselves to sleep, and doze away the rest 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 dres«es 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 villiige. 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 lounging in my room, I stepped to the door and tapped one of tliese fellows on the shoulder, who took the hint, and stepped in, well-pleased and delighted with the sigi.J 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 high his heart beat with joy and pride at the idea of my selecting him to be immortal, along side of the chiefs and worthies whose portraits he saw arranged around the room; and by which honour he, undoubtedly, con- sidered himself well paid for two or three weeks of regular painting, and greasing, and dressing, and standing alternately on one leg and the other at the door of my premises. Well, I placed him before me, and a canvass on my easel, and " chalked him 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 neivtly, 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 on 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. In his left hand he held a beautiful pipe — and in his right hand he plied his fan, and on his wrist was still attached his whip of elk's horn, and his fly-brush, made of the buffalo's tail. There was nought about him of the terrible, and nouaht to shock the finest, chastest intellect. '1 1,1 !« '■r vol., ff,I :i : '(■ ;]1 ■ 'I 'i ||!j' M \ 'M 11-1 1 had thus far progressed, with high-wrought feelings of pleasure, when the two or three chiefs, who had been seated around the lodge, and whose portraits I had before painted, arose suddenly, and wrapping themselves tightly in their robes, crossed my room with a quick and heavy step, and took an informei leave of my cabin. I was apprehensive of their displeasure, though I continued my work ; and in a few moments the interpreter came furiou'ly into my room, addressing me thus : — " My God, Sir! this never wij! do ; you have given great offence to tiie 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 »he nation, and if you paint his picture, you must initantly 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 his 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 little do they value a man, however lavishly Nature may have bestowed her rd^ster touches upon him, who has not the pride and noble bearing of a warrior. I spoke in a former Letter of Mah-to-toh-pa (the four bearO, -Ih^ 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 ge'itlenian. Since I pr.inted his portrait, as I before described, I have- t-ecoivi-d at his hands many marked and signal attentions ; some of wliich I must n;uae to you, as the very relation of them will put you in possession of many little forms and modes of Indian life, tLat ot'iP -'ise might not have been noted. About a week since, this noble wUij'y epped into my painting-room about twelve o'clock in the Jay, in fuH iiv, splendid dress, and passuig 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 feast was pre- pared in a careful manner and waiting our arrival. The lodge in which lie dwelt was a room of immense size, some forty or fifty feet in 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 garnished 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, estin^ on a beautiful rush mat, which was placed between us (plate 62). The simple feast which was spread before us consisted of three dishes only, t'vo of which were served in wooden bowls, and the third in an earthen Vi.'S e! of their own rnAuufacture, somewhat in shape of a bread-tray in /■tr (;wn country. This last contained a quantity o\' pejii-i-can and marrow- leasuic, wliPii re, and whose i J! 'I -7 A \ I (■-- \ i "'. \ -" < 4:F ) ./111 ■,i.,.yH^ .--// -I iH 'M 'il a if 'I / ' .if" i 1 " II »l 1 K n 'if M ' 'I. 115 fat ; and one of tlic former hold a tine Imicn of buffalo ribs, delightfully roasted ; and tiic other was filled with a kind of paste or puddinj^, made of the flour of the " pomma blanche," as the French call it, a delicious turnip of the prairie, finely flavourtu with the buffilo berries, which are collected in great quantities in this country, and useO with divers dishes in cooking, as we in civilized countries use dried currants, which they very much re- semble. A handsome pipe and a tobacco-pouch made of the otter skin, filled with k'nick-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 his pouch his flint and steel, and raised a spark with which he kindled it. He drew a few strong whiffs through it, and presented the stem of it to my mouth, through which I drew a whifi'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 off a very small piece of the meat from the ribs, and pronouncing the words " Ho-pe-ne-chee wa-pa-shee" (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 that every man in this country carries about him, for at an Indian feast a knife is never offered to a guest). Reader, be not astonished that I sat and ate my dinner alone, for such is the custom of ihis 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 which is to be passed around after the feast is over. Such was ihe 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. To 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 is customary amongst these folks to carry in their tobacco-sack to give it a flavour; and, shavingoffa 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 exchanji-c of good feelings, amid clouds of smoke and pantomimic signs and gesticulations. The dish of "pemican and marrow-fat," of which I spoke, was thus: — The first, an article of food used throughout this country, as familiarly as we use I -2 n a! ic ir i 1 BV^ ill I Til I n(fl !■< *l ! ; !il4 IH w f '^! 116 bread in the civilized word. 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 pro- digious 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 marrowfat 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 for (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 bowls in which these viands were served out; they are u 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 0' 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 se \ 'ceable, however, that they hang them over the tire as we do our iron pots, anu boil their meat in them with perfect success. 1 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 Museum 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 pluraluy 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 in readiness to obey his orders or 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 the robe on which I had sat, he gracefully raised by the corners and tendered it to me, explaining by signs that the paintings viands were ire of every ;ribe in great hey are made aked in kilns rdness to our rt of glazing, lem so strong e do our iron seen some ip in Indian our Eastern lovelty is at can be seen every day in and passing 117 which were on it were the representations of the battles of his life, where 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 me 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. rm ii- ' '^^ 118 LETTER— No. 17. 1.1 1 I f-/!i;i tf 'I'' I K Ji : I I y I ■ I,' 11 ri ' 111 I ' ^i I A III •Ii. 'I ■' if P' 4a RIANUAN VILLAGE, I'PPKll MISSOURI. I MENTiONKD in the forejroing epistle, that the chiefs of the Mandans frequently have aplurality of wives. Such is the custom auioiiffst all of 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 doofs, 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 expensive 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 tiie year ; and the avails of that labour enable him to procure those luxuries, and give to his lodge the appearance of respectability which 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 afl3uent and envied man in the tribe; for liis table is most bountifully supplied, and his lodge the most abiiudunlly furnished v.ith the luxuries Ill) of civilized m ami tact mo, who lias at tlic year's end the greatest number of robes to vmd to tlic Fur Company. The manual labour unionist savages is all done by the women ; and as there are no daily labourers or persons who will "/aVf out" to labour for another, it becomes necessary for him who !'('(|uires more tliaii the lal)oiiror services of one, to add to the number by Ic^alizini;' and compromisinj; by the ceremony of marriaj^e, his stoc'- ■ f labourers ; wlii can thus, and thus aloiii', be easily enslaved, and the results of their labour turned to good account. There is yet the other inducement, which probably is more cH'cctivc than either ; the natural inclination which belongs to man, who stands high in the estimation of his people and wields the sceptre of power — surrounded hy 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 amongst savage nations can easily be excused too, and we are bound to oxcuse it, when we behold man in a state of nature, as he was made, following a natural inclination, which i. sanctioned by ancient custo'n 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 (piadrupling his expenses (as would be the case in tiic civilized world), actually becomes his wealth, as the results of their labour abundantly secure to him all the necessaries and 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 love of glory, to which in Indian life the battle-held is almost the only road, their warriors ar j killed off to that extent, that in many instances two and sometimes three women to a man are found in a tril)e. 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, arc generally confined to the chiefs and medicine-men ; though there is no regulation prohibiting a poor or obscure individual from marrying several w. 'es, 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 freipient 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. Tiiere are very few instances indeed, to be seen in these regions, where a poor or ordinary citizen has more than one wife ; i)ut amongst chiefs and braves of great reputation, and doctors, it is conuiion to see some six or il I If in MAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I m m ■ 2.2 S Hi ■■ r US 12.0 I 11-25 i 1.4 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation ■^>. ^'1^<^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. U5S0 (716) •72-4503 ','0 H m eigtit living under one roof, and all apparently quiet and contented; seemingly harmonizing:, and enjoying the modes of life and treatment that falls to their lot. 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 can 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 similar assurances when made in the civilized 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 thp nation, and enables them, with the influence of their new family connexi'jns, to carry on suc(;essfully 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 excecdin<^ly 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 scailet 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 which 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 e-pcusal, 1(1; seemingly that falls to iher, as in all i the bargain lations of the tract entirely, mand for her. :h each other, arrangements, inviolable as in such cases, m of making ^essity, for the mselves in this »e, which in a enables them, on suc(;essfully le best families ire exceedingly of a delightful when married lly are, allowed ue and scailet flounce and es, for I believe zing ceremony nducted purely re very expert, te price from a ich a stock of pay liberally le business of h is done with as unceremoni- ish to leave the at which time or speculation, illy desirous for at licr second 121 From tite enslaved and degraded condition in which the women are held in thi> Indian country, the world would naturally think that theirs must be a conm)unity formed of incongruous and unharmonizing materials ; and con- sequently destitute of the Bne, reciprocal feelings and attachments which flow from the domestic relations in the civilized world ; yet it would be untrue, and doing injustice to the Indians, to say that they wrre in the least behind us in conjugal, in filial, and in paternal affection. There is no trait in the human character which is more universal than the attachments 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. There Is no subject in the Indian character of more importance to be rightly understood than this, and none either that has furnished me more numerous instances and more striking proofs, of which I shall make use on a future occasion, when I shall say a vast deal more of marriage — of divorce — of polygamy — and of Indian domestic relations. For the present 1 am scribbling about the looks ind usages of the Indians who are about me and under my eye; and I must not digress too much into general remarks, lest I lose sight of those who are near me, and the first to be heralded. Such then, are the Mandans — their wor/\cn are beautiful and modest, — and amongst the respectable families, virtue is as highly cherished and as in- approachable, 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 tlieir beauty, from this fact, us 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, con.sist in procuring wood and water, in cooking, dressing robes and other skins, in drying meat and wild fruit, and raising corn (maize). The Mandans are soiiiewhat of agriculturists, as they raise a great deal of corn and some pumpkins and 8(|uashes. This 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 sefasun is one of great festivity with them, and one of much inipurlai'cc. The grcalir part of their ci(ii> is eaten duiinj; these festival, :. 't. ■:. w III \¥ ^i- 122 and the rt'maiiulcr is patliered and dried on tlic cob, before it has ripened, and paclicd away in " cache s" (as iho French call tlieni), holes duj:^ in the ground, sonic six or seven feet deep, llic insidcs of which are sonicwluit in the form of a jue;, and tiphtly closed at the top. The corn, and even dried meat and pemican, are placed in these caches, beinj>^ 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 suflicientfjuantities to support them through tlie winter. These are the principal articles of food during that long and inclement season ; and in addition to them, they often- times have in store great (|uantities of dried scpiashes 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. Cireat quantities also of wild fruit of different kinds are dried and laid away in store for the winter season, such as buffalo berries, service beriies, 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 are, from a fair computation, something like 250,000 Indians in these western regions, who live almost exclusively on the flesh of tliese animals, tlirough every part of the year. During the summer and fall months they use the meat fresh, and cook it in a great variety of ways, by roasting, broiling, boiling, stewing, smoking, &c. ; 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 find, have no regular or stated times for their meals, but generally eat about twice in the twenty-four hours. The pot is always boiling over the fire, and any one who is hungry (either of the household or from any other part of the village) has a right to order it take>i 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 are 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 too lazy to hunt or to supply himself, he can walk into any lodge, and ny one will share with him as long as there is anything to eat. Ke, however, who thus begs when he is able to hunt, pays dear for his meat, for he is stigmatized with the disgraceful epithet of a poltroon and a beggar. The Mandans, like all other tribes, sit at their meals cross-le;4t;ed, 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- 1 2:3 clinintJ posture, with tlic, lugs thrown oiit, and the Imdy resting on one elhow and fore-arm, whicli arc under them. The dishes from which they eat are invariably on the gronnd or Hoor of the lodge, and the group resting on buffalo robes orniats 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 ease and much grace, by merely bending the knees both together, inclining the body back and the head and shoulders «|uite 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 both modest and graceful, for they seem, with apparent ease, to assume 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 beautifVI or ever so hungry, are not allowed to sit in the same group with the men while at their meals. So far as 1 have yet travelled in 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 th' 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 esicess is studiously avoided ; and for a very great part of their lives, the moat 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 beastly excess ; and he has seen them also gu/zle 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 strugjjie for llic prize in their manly games. ,r. . !' itr H 124 " As I before obBcrvcil, tlicsc nicii p * r^ 1 ■ ' 'S '■ll Hi' I m •r ''i The Mandans, like all other tribes, lead lives of idleness and leisure ; and of course, devote a great deal of time to tlicir sports and amusements, of which they have a great variety. Of these, dancing is one of the princi- pal, and may be seen in a variety of forms : such as the bufl'alo dance, the boasting dance, the begging dance, the scalp dance, and a dozen other kinds of dances, all of which have their peculiar characters and meanings or objects. These exercises are exceedingly grotesque in their appearance, and to the 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 subject of the most intense and exciting interest. Every dance hes 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, tliat 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. There 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 and expressions, which 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 metred, 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 127 |)ast l)ccn poculiiirly (>n|>;rossc(l, and my senses almost conrouiulfd witli tiiu stamping, and (;'runtin<;, and bcllowinp^ of tli, who, whoii they discover biiiralocH in sight, give the iippropriatc signul, by " tlirowing their rohcs," wliich in inRtantly seen in the village, and understood by the whole tribe. At this joyful intelligence there is a shout of timnks to the (Srent Spirit, and more especially to t'.ic mystery-man, and the dancers, who have bven the im- mediate cause of their success! There is then u brisk preparation for the chase — a grand hunt takes place. The choicest pieces of the victims are sacriHccd to the Great Spirit, and then a surfeit and a carouse. Tlieae dances have sometimes been continued in this village two and three weeks without stopping an instant, until the joyful moment when butfaloes made their appearance. So they never fail ; and they think they have been the means of bringing them in. Every man in the Mandan village (as I have before said) is obliged by a village regulation, to keep the mask of thebufi'alo, hanging on a post at the head of iiis bed, which he can use on his head whenever he is called upon by the chiefs, to dance for the coming of buffaloes. The mask is put over the head, and generally has a strip of the 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 the ground (pi.ate 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 bufialo — is seized 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 with 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 day 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 and |\,reai 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, the stamp- ing of horses was heard as they were led and galloped through the village — young men 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 and »vcr biilValoc* )C9," which i* ibc. At thift irit, aiul more been the im- I ration tor the ,hc victims arc two uihI throe when buffaloes :hey have been n obliged by a til a post at the I is culled upon jsk is put over it, of the whole ising down over 6). When one r quite forward, iws a bow upon iittalo — is seized els, brandishing ions of skinning nee supplied by )y this taking of esircd effect has 1 it commenced ccess which had ed in a calamity repentant tears, was given into that a band of ", and every heart dness. ■w, instead of the icers, the stanip- igh the village — lifts, — were seen ging their sinewy ts, and mounting een of bustle and 'If I'i 19 ' i III i 1 llj I ■H i ;t 139 lumstint;, whilst hows were twanpins and spears were polisliinpf by runniri"- tlicir Idadtis into the ground — every face and every eye was Hlled with joy and ^jladness — horses were pawin<^ iii'l siuifliii^j in fury for the outset, wlien Louison Frt'iiie, an interpreter of the Fur t'onipany, |,'all(iped throu^jh the village with his rifle in Ids hand and his powder-horn at his side ; his head and his waist were bandaj^ed with handkerchiefs, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his shoulders — the hunter's yell issued from his lips and was repeate.l thr()ii;;h the village ; he flew to the bluH's, and behind him and over the graceful swells of the prairie, galloped the emulous youths, whose hearts were beating high and (|uick for the onset. In the village, where hunger had reigiuvl, and starvation was almost ready to look them in the face, all was instaiitlv turned to juy and gladness. The chiefs and doctors who had been for some days dealing out minimum rations to the community from the public crib, now spread before their 8«d)jeet8 the contents of their own private caches, and the last of (very thing that could be mustered, that they might eat a thanksgiving to the Great Spirit fur his goodness in sending them a supply of buH'alo meat. A general carouse of banqueting ensued, which occupied the gre iter part of the day : and their hidden stores wliich might have fed an emergency for several weeks, were pretty nearly used up on the occasion — bones were half picked, and di l.i's 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 vil- lage ; 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 earnestness to the prairie, whilst blackened warriors ran 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 b'ufF towards the village, and another broke suddenly out of a deep ravine, and yet another was seen 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 ill their looks, for one was bleeding, and the blood that flowed frouj his nuked 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 the other his whip — 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 VOL. I. K W ! !!!| \ 130 aw ay, niul trustpcl to tl:e ficetncss of his horse for liis safety ; yet the story Mas audibly toid, and the fatal tragedy recited in irregular and almost suflfo- caliiig ejacidaiions — the names of the dead were in turns pronounced and screams and shrieks u. -st forth at their recital — murmurs and groans run through the village, and this happy little community wer^ in a moment smitten with sorrow and distraction. ; Their proud band of hunters wlio Imd started full of glee and mirth in the morning, had been surrounded by their eneuiyjl 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 cf 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 intelligenct; was telegraphed to the village, which brought out th"!ir 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 F"enie, who was leading the little band of hunters, became at that moment suspicions of 80 strange a movement, and came to a halt * # • * "Look"! (said a Mandan, pointing to a little ravine to the riijht, 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, tiie whizzing arrov^ and the lance were heard 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 Fr^nie got home, and several of the Mandans, though eight 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 l)roken on that unlucky occasion. This day, though, my readers, has been one of a more joyful kind, for tlk 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. f ; et llie story almost suflfo- nounced and I groans ran n a moment ee and mirth J Sioux, and nnoitred their ; dancing for inner : — Some bluff, in sight movements ol" ; sentinel, tlie t th'iir hunters jn the top of a If a mile or so n Fenie, who nent suspicious theriiiht,and at or fifty furious g upon them); )re furious from s), and strained every now and ic flesh of their )m their horses. ; got home, and and scalped by ad, will last the ision. oyful kind, for ustice, has sert »ave joined in a ■t face, Iiead missi If oblig him, victir twite front Thi 1:31 LETTER— No. 19. MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI. Iv my 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, which these people have in common with other tribes ; but in the present Letter I shall make an endeavour to confine my observations to several other customs and form.-, which are very curious and peculiar to the Mandans. Of these, one of the most pleasing is the sham-fight 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 hundred, and being divided into two companies, each of which is headed by some experienced warrior, who leads tliein on, in the character 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 a little bow in his left hand and a number of arrows made of large spears of grass, which are harmless in their eflfects. 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 cops 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 the judicious evolutions of Indian warfare — of feints — of retreats — of attacks — and at last to a general fight. Many manoeuvres are gone through, and eventually they are brought up face to face, within fifteen or twenty feet of each other, with their leaders at their head stimulating them on. Their bows are bent upon each other and iheir 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 victim'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 and front of battle. This mode of training generally lasts an hour or more in the mornine K 2 i I iU;i ^ ■ ;>i iw.;tfiw.< '"I III ' I ( l:i2 and is performed on an empty stomacli, affording them a rigid and whole- some exercise, whilst tliey are instructed in the impctant 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 last 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 sunyuinury deeds, to the great astonishment of their tender aged sweethearts, who are gazing with wonder upon them. The games and anmsemonts of these people are in most respects like tlioseof the other tribes, 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 favorite 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 they 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 requisite numbers are made up. Their 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 ,wo or three inches in diameter, out 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 hethrows 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 always 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. This 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 ganie of great beauty and fine bodily exercise, and these people become excessively fascinated with it ; often gambling away every thing they possess, and even sometimes, when everything else was gone, have been known to 133 offering thciiist'lvcs as stake their liberty upon the issue of these guuies, slaves to their opponents in case they get beaten. Feasting and fastimj are important customs observed by the Mandaiis, as well as by most other tribes, at stated times and for particular purposes. Tiicse observances are strictly religious and rigidly observed. There are many of these 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. Sacrificing is also a religious custom with these people, and is performed in many different modes, and on numerous occasions. Of this custom I shall also speak more fully hereafter, merely noticing at piesent, some few of the hundred modes in which these offerings are made to the Good and Evil Spirits. Human sacrifices have never been made by the Mandans, nor by any of the north western tribes (so far as I can learn), excepting the Pawnees of the Platte; who have, undoubtedly, observed such an inhuman practice in former times, though they have relinquished it of late. The Mandans sacrifice their fingers to the 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 from their quiver, they will select the most perfect one as the most effective gift ; if it is meat, it is the choicest piece cut from the buffalo or other animal ; if it is anything from the stores of the Traders, it is the most costly — it is blue or scarlet cloth, which costs them in this country an enormous price, and is chiefly used for the purpose of hanging over their wigwams to decay, or to cover the scaffolds where rest the bones of their depi\rted relations. Of these kinds of sacrifices there are three of an interesting nature, erected over the great medicine-lodge in the centre of the village — ihey consist of ten or fifteen yards of blue and black cloth each, purchased from the Fur Company at fifieen or twenty dollars per yard, which are folded up so as to resemble human figures, with quills in their heads and masks on their faces. These singular-looking figures, like '^^ scare crows" (plate 47), are erected on poles about thirty feet high, over the door of the mystery-lodge, and there are left to decay. There hangs now by the side of them another, which was added to the number a few days since, of the skin of a white buffalo, which will remain there until it decays and falls to pieces. This beautiful and costly skin, when its history is known, will furnish a striking proof of the 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 hundrefl miles above, with information tiiat a party of Blackfeet were visiting that plac 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 chiefs, and one worthy of public consideration. A white buffalo robe is a li,' 134 * ;' i! *> li IT ! »]! 1 i ^rt'Ht ciii'iusity, even iu tlu; eoiiiitry of bufl'uloes, und will always command an almost incredible price, from its extreme scarcity ; und then, iVoni its being the most costly article of truiHc in these regions, it is usually converted into a sacrijice, being offered to the Great Spirit, as the most acceptable nift that can be procured. Amongst the vast herds of butfaloes 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 receipt of the intelligence above-mentioned, the chiefs convened in council, and deliberated on the expediency of procuring the white robe from the Blackfect ; 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 Tur Company's store, on the credit of the chiefs, goods exceeding even the value of their eight horses; and they started for the Mouth of the Yellow Stone, where they arrived in 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 the white robe, which was looked upon by all eyes of the villagers as a thing that was vpstly curious, and containing (as they express it) something of the Great Spirit. This wonderful anomaly laid several days in the chiefs lodge, until public curiosity was gratified ; and then it was taken by the doctors or high-priests, and with a great deal of form and mystery consecrated, and raised on the top of a long pole over the mcdiciiie-lodfje ; 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, 1 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 you ever hear of " /?gi« 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 *' Ruin Maker ! " 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 sinca 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 % onimaiul an )in its being y converted I acceptable which graze ousand, j)cr- » considered efs convened le white robe means, and , At the close r best horses, chiefs, goods aitcd for the md made the they carried ; liem the white hing that was of the Great "s lodge, until the doctors or jsecratod, and where it now g to the Great voted to some vill be new to f a laughable ourney up the 1 the Mandan )t, sit still, and ly laugh in the e to you a new an, and one of uch dignitaries and even those ven essayed to eir medicine or aid in a former istrous drought harvest. Such I ■(' in: was tlu! case wlicii I airivotl at ilu; Maiidaii village uii the stuurn-l>out, Yullow-Stoiiu. Ruin imd nut i'ullcn Cor niuiiy a day, niid tlic dear littlt* ^irls and the ugly old s(|uaws, altogether (all of whom had Kelds o( rorii)> were groaning and crying to their lords, and imploring them to intercede for rain, that their little respective patches, wliich were now turning pule and yellow, might not be withered, and they be deprived of the pleasure of their customary annual festivity, and the joyful octasion of the " roasting ears," and the " green corn dance." The chiefs and doctors sympathized witli the plaints of th(> women, and recommended patience. (Ireat deliberation, they said, was necessary in these cases; and thoug. they resolved on nuiking the attempt to produce rain for the benefit of the corn; yet they very wisely resolved that to begin too soon might ensure their entire defeat in the endeavour ; and that the longer they put it olF, 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-mcH assembled in the council-house, with all their mystery apparatus about them — with an abundance of wild sage, and other aro- matic herbs, with a fire prepared to burn them, that their savoury odours might be sent forth to the 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 sufier the everlasting disgrace of having made a fruitless essay. They, only, were allowed as witnesses to the hocus pocus and conjuration devised by the doctors inside of the medieine-lodge ; and they were called up by lot, each one in his turn, to spend a day upon the top of the lodtit;, to test the potency of his medicine ; or, in other words, to see 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 tlicir songs and prayers to the Great Spirit for success, were sending foitU grate- ful fumes and odours to Him " who lives in the sun and commands llie thunders of Heaven." Wah-kee (the shield) was the first who ascended the wigwam at sunrise ; and he stood all da^, and looked foolish, as he 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 he 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 grouml f\ lilt: ! :B I3(i was dry and the sky was clear ; tlu; 8(|uaw8 were crying, ami tlicir con. was witlicring at its roots. War-rah-pa (the l)eaver) was the next ; he also spent his breath in vain upon the empty air, and came down at nipht — and Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (the white buH'alo's hair) took the stand tlie next inornine:. He is a small, but beautifully proportioned you ns; man. He was dressed in a tunic and leggings of the skins of the mountain-sheep, splendidly garnished with quills of the porcupine, and fringed with locks of hair taken by his own hand Irom the heads of his enemies. On his arm he carried his shield, made of the buffalo's hide — its boss was the head of the war-eagle — and its front was ornamented with ♦' red chains of lightning." In his left hand he clenched liis 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 — 1 shall this 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 amongst the dogs and old women all my days. My friends ! you saw which way the feather flew, and 1 hold my shield this day in the direction where the wind conies — the lightning on my shield will draw a great cloud, and this arrow, 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 ; and 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, ir.y friends, and nothing has been (' ^e to relieve your distress. On the first day was Wah- kee (the shield), he could do nothing; he counted his 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 fvither the White Butt'alo; 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 I 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 "ye-ii"f Spirits) that are floating about Ml them — stamping his foot over the heads of the magi, who were involved in mysteries beneath him, and invoking the spirits of darkness and light to send rain, to gladden the hearts of the Mandans. It happened on this memorable day about noon, that the steam-boat 137 tlicir con. atlj in vain hu-hee (the i sinnll, but tunic and 1 with quills 1 hand Irom vade of the t9 fiont was he clenched ill gathered )urse of the ! pheasants! real distress, Ige when the f days. My licld this day tld will draw r, and which : in it. My ne-men, who Spirit; and hich you see 2 clouds and friends, and \y was Wah- Is and came , kept off the en was seen, iver) was the lever wants it (thing has yet alo; and the oud, and that r — and I am lee (the white leavens — and floating about ere involved in 1 light to send ;e steam-boat Yellow Stone, 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 Hre 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 Mandaus at first supposed 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 liim — chiefs envied him — mothers' hearts were beating high whilst they were decorating and leading up their fair daughters to offer ' n 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 ! * • * 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 — " Myfriends, 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 the 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 order 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 ou to her ,1 : ^1 91 i:)8 (li>«>k, with n !i|)Oiir in one liand nnd tlic ciiliimet or pipe of peace in tho utiicr. Thr moment tliov Mteppt'd on lioanl tlioy nii't (to thv.ir nation by his extraordinary mrdniiic, had, for the better security of his pcrs«)n from a|)prchcnded venp'an«'e, secreted himself in some necnre place, and wan the last to oomi? forward, and the last to be convinced that this visitation was a friendly one fnnn the white people; nnd that his vniliriiir had not in the least been instrnniental in brinp;in^ it about. This nformation, thon}j;h received by him with much caution and suspicion, at length pive him ;;reat relief, and cpiicted Ids mind as to his danger. Yet still in his breast there was a rankling thorn, though he escaped the dreaded vcnpMii.'c whi<-h he had a few luomentH before apprehended as at hand ; as he had the mortitication and disgrace of havin<; failed in his mysterious operations. He set up, however (diirinu; the day, in his conversation about the stranjje arrival), iiis nuuticincs, as the cause of its approach ; asserting; everywhere and to everybody, that lie knew of its comin^j, and that he had I his ma^ic brought the occurrence about. This plea, however, did not jfvt him much audience; and in fact, everything else was pretty much swallowed up in the <;uttural talk, and bustle, and p)ssip about the mysteries «>f the " thunder-boat;" and so passed the day, until just at the approach of eveniu';-, when the " White Hniralo's Hair" (more watchful of such matters on this occasion than most others) ol)scrved that a black cloud had been jutting up in the horizon, and was almost directly over the village! In nn instant his shield was on his arm, and his bow in his hand, and he attain npon tlie l()dj::e! stiHened and braced to the last sinew, he stood, with his face antl his shield presented to the cloud, and his bow drawn. He drew the eyes of the whole villai^e upon him as he vaunted forth his super-human powers, and at the same time commanding the cloud to come nearer, that he nuu;ht draw down its contents npon the heads nnd the corn-tields of the IMandans ! In this wise he stood, waving his shield over his head, stumping his 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 ! VVak-a-dah- lia-lic<>'s arrow has entered that black cloud, and the Maudans 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 t!ie efficacy of his 7nedicinc, to those who had been about him, but were now driven to the shelter of their wig- wams. He, at length, tinishcd his vaunts and his threats, and descended 131) » the oUmt. ;rtl iurpriH*' )ri/.»Ml of tlu! iva» punuleil lily bnmnlit .(tiT m-tMirily simio HCMMirt' )i»viiuH'il th'.it uiiout. Tl''" siis|)ii>. lit I tho (Irt'iuU'il I 119 ut hiintl ; Ilia mysteiiniis iTsation iibout ch ; ussi-rtinu; ami lliat ln' however, il»l AS pntly much t the mysteries I tlio approacli I'hl'iil of siicli UicW cloud hiul icvilla^;c! lu , and lie ai;aiu stood, will* l»is He drew the IS super-human nearer, that he Ijrn-tields of the head, stamping e heavens, com- to its head, was Wak-a-dah- lans will be wet ,e;_in a tew in torrents. He lis shield to the edicinc, to those ter of their wig- ,, and descended from IiIm hi^li plucu (in which lie had liceti |M>rfectly drenched), prepared to receive the iionniirs and the h(Miia;;e thai were due to one ro potent in hit invHtcries ; and to receive the flyh' and title nf " Hinliiinrmnii." '1'\\\a ih one of a hundred diliirrnl modes in which u man m Imliaii countries acipiircH this honouralile appellation. 'riiiH man had " made it rain," and of course was to receive more than nsnal honours, as h(> had done mncii miremoiiics never stop until rain begins to fall. The se<()nd is cipially true, and is this: — that he who has once " tinutf it ruin," neve r at- tempts it again ; his medicine is iindoulited — and on future occasions of the kind, he stands aloof, who has once done it in presenc(! of the whole viihigt.', giving an opporliinily lo other young men who are and)ilious to signalize lhems( Ives in lln' siinie way. During the memorahle night of which 1 have just spoken, the steam-hoat remained by tlu> side of the Mandan village, and the ram that had com- menced falling continued to pour down its torrents until midiiigiit ; iilack thunder roared, and livid lightning Hashed until the heavens appeared to be lit up with oiu> unceasing and appalling glare. In this frigiitful nuiment of consternation, a Hash of lightning buried itself in one of the earth-covered lodges of the iMandans, and killed a beautiful girl. Here was food and fuel fresh for their superstitions; and a night of vast tumult and excitement ensued. The (ireams of the new-madu medicine-man were troubled, and ho had dreadful appreheiisicuis for the coming day — for he knew that he was sultject to the irrevocable decree of the chiefs and doctors, who canvass every strange and unaccountable event, with close and superstitious scrutiny, and let their vengance 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 the forfeit for this girl's death, which would certaiidy be charged upon him. He looked upon himself as culpable, and supposed the accident to have been occasioned by his crimiiud desertion of his post, when the steam-boat was approaching the village. Morning came, and he soon learned from some of his friends, the opinions of the wise men ; and also the nature of the tribunal that was preparing for him ; he sent to the prairie for his three horses, whicj* were brought in, and he mounted the medicine- lodge, around which, in a few moments, the villagers were .dl assembled. "My friends! (said he) I sec you all around me, and I am before you ; my njedicine, ycJ see, is great — it is A n H< v^ I t !, I .:'« i il %'i i 140 luo (jreitt — 1 uni young, and I was too fast — I knew not wlien to stop. The wigwam of Mah-sisli is laid low, and 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 'siio weep for Ko-ka; his medicine was groat — his arrow pierced the black ciond, and the lightning fjume, and the thunder-bout also ! who says the medicine of VVak-a-dah- ha-hee is not strong V At the end of this sentence an unanimous shout of approbation ran ihrough the crowd, and the " Hair of the White Butfalo" descended amongst them, where he was greeted by slakes of the hand ; and ar.iongst whom lie now lives and thrives under the familiar and honourable appellation of the " Big Double Medicine." i' ^J '•'• V I slop. The p for Ko-ka n the hearts irow pierced t also ! who 141 •obation ran ded amongst longst wlioni ippellalion ol' LETTER— No. 20. MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURL Tins day has been one of unusual mirth and amusement amongst the Mandans, 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 amusements. Their lives, however, are lives of idleness and ease, and ahnost 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 ti:.>e is required in the chase, to supply their families witli 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 I 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 favorite amusement which they call the ^' game of the arrow" (see plate 60), where the young men who are the most distinguished in this exercise, assemb._ 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, -tep 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 arc 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. Ill looking on at ttiis amusement, the spectator is surprised ; not at the great distance to which the arrows are actually sent ; but at ihe quickness of fixing them on the string, and discharging them in succession ; which is, no doubt, the result of great practice, and enable* the most expert i!; J A ;l fll } Yl '^ \\\ ar^ii m ' I m 'II ' i\>:i t ,1 142 of them to get as many as eight arrows up I )c fore tlic first ono reaches the ground. For the successful use of the bow, as it is used tiirojigh all this region of country on horseijack, and that invariably at full speed, the great object of practice is to enable the bowman to draw the bow v.ith ..uddcnness and 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 tlipir enemies fought in the same way , and as the horse is the swiftest ani- mal of the prairie, and always able fo 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 bufialo, or any other animal in the country. The bows which are generally in use in these regions I have described in a former Ix^ttcr, and the effects produced by them at the distance of a few paces is almost beyond belief, considering their length, which is not often over three, — and sonietimes not exceeding two and i\ half feet. It can easily be seen, from what has been said, that the 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 at 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 dasiiing 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. The 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 and summer, over the vast plains of prairie that stretch from the Mexican frontiers to Lake Winnipeg on the north, a distance of 3000 miles. Ihese horses are all of small stature, of the pony order; but a very hardy and tough animal, being able to perform for the 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 fifteen or twenty yards in length, and which the Indians throw with great dexterity ; with a 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 regioiis is to be found, who is not the owner of one or more of these horses ; and in many instances of eight, ten, or even twenty, which he values as his own personal property. f; f i * ! i f:h: !«!'■ readies the tis region of !at object of Icnness and iianner. As 3t rate — and swiftest ani- lide, within a lias little use us quite low capable of the country, escribed in a iice of a few which is not feet. It can 5 little use or it is very sel- (t very much that attained same weapon, thout the use ; most instan- can be found ith the bow. riably the wild and have, un- ich they were now range and ains of prairie )n the north, a re, of the pony )erform for the 1 with the laso, ifteen or twenty xterity ; with a nimal they wish dismounts from aks the animal e. not the owner of :ht, ten, or even II .'1^ I pus tha va see the 143 The Indians i\re hard and cruel masters; and, added to their cntehies is the sin that is famiUar in the Cliristian world, of sporlini; will) |lu< linihs and the lives of these noble animals. Horse-raving here, as in all more en- liu;htened communities, is one of the most exeitinj; amusements, and one of the most extrava(jant modes of jjamblinij;. I 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 villau;c; and although I never had the least taste for this cruel amusemi.'nt in my own e(uintry, yet, 1 must say, I have been not a little an.-sed and pleased with the tlnillini; effect which these exciting sceiu^s have produced amongst so wild and j)icturesque a y;ronp. I have made a sketch of the ground and the group, as near as I could (plate ()1). Shewing the manner of "starting" and "coming out," which vary a little from the customs of the knowing world ; but in other res[)ects, I believe, a horse-race is the same all the world over. Besides these, many have been the amusements of this day, to which 1 have been an eye-witness ; and since writing the above, I 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 made up of the most distinguished and desperate young men of the tribe, who had sallied out airainst 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 party, and lest 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 ^'ith 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 know- ing 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 account of them to their enemies. I rested my canoe an hour or so with them, during which time they treated us with an inditlerent reserve, yet respectfully ; and we passed on our way, without further information of them or their plans than the sketch that I there made (vlate 63), and which I shall preserve and value as one of the most pleasing groups 1 ever have had the pleasure to see. Seated on their bufl'alo robes, which were spread upon the grass, with their respective weapons laying about them, and lighting their pipes at a im 144 little fire which was kindled in the centre — the chief or leader of the party, with his arms stacked behind him, and his lonp head-dress of war-eagle's quills and ermine falling down over his back, whilst he sat in a contemplative and almost desponding mood, was surely one of the most striking and beautiful illustrations of a natural hero that 1 ever looked upon. Those gallant fellows got safely home to their village, and the numerous expressions of joy for their return, which 1 have this day witnessed, have so much fatigued me that I write brief, and close my Letter here. ( ! lit ■' -] II I ill "^ X \ the party, 'ar-engle's teniplivtive iking aiul 11. numerous .1, have so I:'i'^ iim 'M tA' M-' 't. IIUlllI pre wit] men toh-| warn by a adm nor dign to re stern V( ^k 145 LETTER— No. 21. MANI)A>f VlLLACiK, UlM'EIl MISSOUIU. ^ In a former Letter I gave some account of Mali-to-toh-pa (tlie four bears"), second chief of the Mandans, whom 1 said I had painted at full length, in a splendid costume. I therein said, also, that "this extraordinary man, tliouu;h second in office, is undoubtedly the first and most popular man in the nation. Free, pjenerous, eleg^ant, and gentlemanly in his deportment — handsome, bravi- and valiant; wearing a robe on his back, with the history of all his battles painted on it, which would fill a book of themselves if they were properly enlarged and translated." I gave you also, in another epistle, an account of the manner in which ho invited me to a feast in his hospitable wigwam, at the same time presenting me a beautifully garnished robe; and I promised to say more of him on a future occasion. My readers will therefore piirdon 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 painted his portrait; and afterwards reciting the most re larkable incidents of his life, as 1 had them from the Traders and the Indian agents, and after- wards corroborated by his own words, translated to me as he spoke, whilst I 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 iu getting them home to the civilized world without injury. Mtih-to-toh-pa had agreed to stand before me for his portrait at an early hour 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- ment of his equipments; and at that time it was announced, that " Mah-to- toh-pa was coming in full dress!" 1 looked out of the 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, nor gladiator ever entered the Roman Forum, with more grace and munly dignity than did Mah-to-toh-pa enter the wigwam, where I was in readhiesg to receive him. He took his attitude before me (plate 64), and with the sternness of a Brutus and the stillness of a statue, he stood until the dark- VOL. 1. I ' !« \< \ ■^r i.\-'\ m'f fm 'Mi .11;... ! I 'x^i Hi! ^!. .':i^ I I, if i n I4(i lu'ss (if iiii;lit hn.ke upon the solitary stilliicss. I lis (Ih'hm, wliicli u n>< a very s|)loiKli(l one, was ooiiiplotc in all its parts, anil coiiAistuil of a shirt or tintic, letrK'nt!:'*' moccasins, liruil-dress, necklace, sliield, bow and quiver, lance, tobacco-sack, and pipe; rolte, belt, and knife; medicine-bai;, 'omuhawk, and war-cliil), 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 tof^ether by seams which rested \ip()n ihe arms ; one skin haii^iuf; in front, upon the breast, and the other fallintr down upon the back ; the bend beinj; passed between them, and they falliiij? over and restins; 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 width (and crossiii<^ the other at right angles on the shoulder) beautifidly embroidered with por- cupine (piills worked on the dress, and co\ering 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, wliich he had taken with his own hand from tlie beads of his enemies whom he had slain in battle, and which he thus wore as a tropby, and also as an ornament to his dress.' The front and back of the shirt were curiously garnished in several parts with porcupine quills ami paintings of the battles he had fought, and also with reprcseutations of the victims that had fallen by his hand. The bottom of the drcjs was bound or hemmed with ermine skins, and tassels of ermine's tails were suspended from the arms and the shoulders. The Lc(/gitigs, 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 tlic waist. These, like the shirt, had a similar band, worked with porctoinc quills of richest dyes, passing down the seam on the outer part of tht '. j, 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 porcupine's quills. The Head-dress, which was superb and truly magnificent, consisted of a crest of war-eagle's quills, gracefully falling back from the forehead over the back pait 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. His 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 eagle's quills and hoofs ol the antelope. His Bmv was of bone, and as white and beautiful as ivory ; over its back wm !i vpry rl or tiuiic, iver, lunre, onialmwW, ;? inoiintain- rcsted viixm otlier fiillini? I thoy fiiUiii'^ iomewhat in arm from the and crossing red witl» por- lo the lower were attai-lieil and from the he thus wove nd bacltoftlu- i»e quills and tations of llie liis was bound ere suspended ly d reused, and 1 were fastened the shirt, had a , passing' down whole length of every part with , consisted of a urehead over the it ; set the whole f the head, with the grizzly bear, 3 the scalp-locks, d contended with nd hardened with of a pole-cut, and I the antelope. )ry ; over its back Ji^ m |r;Mi::i (il m sll 147 was laid, and firmly attached to it, a coating of deer's sinews, which gave it its elasticity, and of course death to all that stood inimically befc;e it. Its string was three stranded and twisted of sinews, which many a time had twanged and sent the whizzing death to animal and to human victims. The Quiver was made of a panther's skin and hung upon his back, cliarged with its deadly arrows ; some were poisoned and some were not ; they were feathered with hawk's and eagle's quills ; some were clean and innocent, and pure, and others were stained all over, with animai and human blood that was dried upon them. Their blades or points were of flints, and some of steel ; and altogether were a deadly magazine. The Lance or spear was held in his feft hand ; its blade was two-edged and of polished steel, and the blood of several human victims was seen dried upon it, one over the other; its shaft was of the toughest ash, and orna- .nented at intervals with tufts of war-eagle's 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'neck, (the bark of the red willow, which is smoked as a substitute for tobacco), it contained also his flint and steel, and spunk for lighting His Pipe, 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 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-pecker's 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 Lis 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 hawk's 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 entered my wigwam to stand for his picture ; but such I have not entirely represented it in bis 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 e4aally elegant. In plumes, and arms, and ornaments, he is not singular; but in luurels and wreaths he stands unparalleled. His breast has been bared and scarred in defence of his country, and his brows crowned with honours I. 2 !' ■ ii ill! 1 ■ \ fi 148 tliiit 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 tamed and honourable as that of Mah-to-toh-pa. I said his robe was of the skin of a young buffalo bull, and that the battles of his hfe were emblazoned 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 week's 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 this 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 standing, 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 1 take the records of battles on the robe of Mah-to-toh-pa 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 fourteen 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. KOBE OF MAH-TO-TOK-PA (Plate 65). 1. Mah-to-toh-pa kills a Sioux chief — th^ 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, and his bow and quiver lying behind him.* 2. A Shienue 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 • The reader will see in plate 6.5, an accurate drawing of this curious robe, and on the following pages, each group numbered, and delineated on a larger scale, which are facsimiles of the drawings on the robe. #. e IS no luau ars a robe so and that the ision, that he lis life, which vhich he wore lary life ; and fith Mr. Kipp, :h battle there r. Kipp, from le robe. Mr. has lived with lese narrations them, and had isrted was true. I ever was in, L community so ^ are familiarly e, for a warrior sr had fought; krould know he -to"-toh-pa to be rote them down ed, where he has )urteen of their ,eas of the arts ; ned to me. is represent the led. The Sioux li-pa is seen with her, and his bow ^at he wished to resence of a large curious robe, and on irer scale, which are r t ■ ().) •.St*f,'/A v.. > i il in\ ^SmmSSSS ?uS!rfc".-,-sK:rt MOSS Ir (M . Cidit, ^-^ -.T ■ %/r.v X Ci. 141) parly of Mandans and Sliiennes. Mah-to-toh-pa is here known by his lance with eagle's quills on it. 3. A Shienne killed by Mah-to-toh-pa after Mah-to-toh-pa had been left by his party, badly wounded and bleeding; the twenty-five or thirty foot- tracks around, represent the number of Sliiennes, who were present when tlie battle took place ; and the bullets from their guus represented as flying ail around the head of Mah-to-toh-pa. 4. Shienne chief with war-eagle head-dress, and a beautiful shield, ornamented with eagle's quills, killed by Mah-to-toh-pa. In this battle the wife of the Shienne rushed forward in a desperate manner to his assistance; but arriving too late, fell a victim. In this battle Mah-to-toh-pa obtained two scalps. 5. Mah-to-toh-pa, with a party of Riccarees, fired at by a party of Sioux; the Riccarees fled — Mah-to-toh-pa dismounted and drove his horse back, facing the enemy alone and killing one of them. Mah-to-toh-pa is here represented with a beautiful head-dress of war-eagle's quills, and one on his horse's head of equal beauty ; his shit'ld is on his arm, and the party of Sioux is represented in front of him by the number of horse tracks. 6. The brother of Mah-to-toh-pa killed by a Riccaree, who shot him with an arrow, and then running a lance through his body, left it there, Mah-to-toh-pa was the first to find his brotlier's body with the lance in it ; he drew the lance from the body, kept it four years w'ch the blood dried on its blade, and then, according to his oath, killed the ame Riccaree with the same lance ; the dead body of his brother is here ueen with the arrow and lance remaining in it, and the tracks of the Riccaree'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 white 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 Riccarees, the brother of Mah-to-toh-pa was missing for several days, when Mah-to-toh-pa found the body shockingly mangled, and a iiandsome spear left piercing the body through the heart. Tiie spear was by him brought into the Mandan village, where it was recognized by many as a famous weapon belonging to a noted brave of the Riccarees, by the name of Won-ga-t j. This spear was brandished through the Mandan village by Msh-to-toh-pa (with the blood of his brother dried 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 oi 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 fc.th in the most uncontrolable 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 lladc was yet fresh, ifM--:p :VJ t) ;;i.M i:f 'i ,* - ll'iS 150 and called loudly for revenge. " Let every Mandan (said he) be silent, and let no oiie sound the name of Mah-to-toli-pa — let no one ask for him, nor where he has gone, until you hear him sound the war-cry in front of the village, when he will enter it and shew yo»> the blood of Won-ga-tap. The blade 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." Witli this he sallied 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 him, though none dared to speak till he disappeared over the distant grassy blufl's. He travelled the distance of two hundred miles fntirely 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) lie 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 his wife : he saw him light his last pipe and smoke it " to its end" — he saw the last whilf, 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 suflficicnt 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, he 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 valk 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, I had every word of this from his own lips, and every attitude and gesture acted out with his own limbs), until he saw his ! silent, and 3r him, nor 'lont ol' llu; ^on-gii-tap. i-ga-tap, or ins, with the lage, and all jpeared over lundred miles his marches ;aree village knowing the it in disguise, y and alont id movements lisht his last V the lust curl IV the village overed in the ght which had slyly, into the ig a large pot, ide of the fite, knowing that features of his nd completely rney of six or rately, charged that he drew longer for the he wife of his husband, what as many times I cause no other m an invariable ingry is allowed last gentle and ;k, and turning his enemy, and 3d the embers s own lips, and until he saw his •• »li v/./,-. t'lll. v. m, ^ lili itiul quill as appl a sj tiiulj is was quil broj this tilt uil mai to bad ir>i way was clear; at wliidi niomcnl, with his lancp in liis liaiuls, he rose and drove it throuj^h the bcxiy of iiis enemy, and snatcliini,^ the sealp from his head, he ihirted from the lodge — and quick as lightninjr, with tlie lance in one hand, and the scalp in the other, made his way to the prairie! The village was in an uproar, Imt he was off, and no one knew the enemy who had struck the blow, Mah-to-toh-pa run 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 and 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, and entered the village amidst 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 VVon-ga-tap suspended 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, and 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 (he 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 1 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 in 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 the lodge of Won^a-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 'he lance again, where it came off?" " Hush-sh (said he), if the Great Spirit had wished it to be tied on in tiiat place, it never would have come off; he has been kind to me, and 1 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' Port, 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 l\ o,^ir 152 ,) ;, m Inuijlit with bows niul arrows, until \)w\r quivers were eiiiplicii, wlicn tlicy •lisiiioimtcd and foii^;lil sinnh'-lianded. Tlu; Slii«Mme drow liis knife, and Midi-to-t()li-|)u had It-It iiis; tlu'V strnf!;';:lcd for the knit'c, whicli Mah-to-l(>li-|ia wrested from the Shionne, and killi>d him with it; in the strnnnle, the blade of the knife was several times drawn thmn-jh the hand of Mah-to-loh- pa, and the l)h)od is seen running from the wound. This extraordinary oceiirrence also, was one wiiieh admits of, and deserves II more elal)orafe description, whieh I will here j;ive as it was translated from his own lips, while he sat upon the robe, pointing- to his paintinj; of it; nud at the same time brandishini; the identical kiiite which he drew from his belt, ns he was sliewinu; how the fatal blow was given; and exhibit- "ii; the wounds inllicted in his hand, as the l)Iade of the knife was several tunes drawn throu^;h it before he wrested it from his antagonist. A party of about LOO Shienne warriors had made an assaidt tipon the Mandau village at an early hour in the morning, and driven otf a consider- able number of horses, and taken one scalp. Mah-to-loli-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 bai-k, when Mah-to-toh-pa galloped out in front upon the prairie, and plunged his hmce into the ground ; the blade was driven into the earth to its hilt — he made another circuit around, and in tiiat ciicuit tore from his breast his reddened sash, which he hung upon its handle as a Hag, calling out to the Mandans, '' What! have we come to this? we have dogged our enemy two days, and now when we have found iheni, are we to turn al ut and go back like cowards ? Mah-to-toh-pa's lance, whicli 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 approaching, 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 ? " 153 e and valiant " Is ho. a cliiof who spcukn to Mali-lo-toli-pa?" " My scalps you sec liaiii;in<; to my liorstt's hitn, and licrc is tny luiict* with thu ui'inino skins and tho war-(>a|{lu'8 tail ! " «' You have said enough." Thi! Shicnnc chief nia(h; a eironit or two at fidl gallop on a l)eantiful wh.itc huisis wiien he struck Ids lance into the ground, and lel't it standing by the side of the lance of Muh-to-toh-pa, both of which were wavinj; together tlieir litthi red Ha^^s, tokens of l)lood and defiance. Tiu! iwo parties then drew nearer, on a l)eantif(d prairie, and the two full- plumed chiefs, at t'nil speed, drove furiously upon each other ! Iioth firin^' their ^uns at thu same moment. They passed each other a little distance and wheeled, when Mah-to-toh-pa drew oH' his |)Owd{rr-horn, and by liold- iiij^ it up, shewed his adversary that the ixdiet had shattered it to pieces and destroyed his aninuinition ; he then threw it from him, and his ;;un also — drew his bow from his (piivcr, and an arrow, ami his shield upon his It'll arm ! The Shienne instantly did the same; his horn was thrown off, and his j^un was thrown into the air — his shield was balanc(!d on his arm — his bow drawn, and (piick as li|j;htning, they were both on the win;>' for a tleadly combat ! Like two soaring eagles in the open air, they made their circuits around, and the i\.angsof 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 tiie horse of Mah-to-toh-pa fell to the ground with an arrow in his heart ! his rider sprang upon his feet prepared to renew the combat ; but the Shienne, seeing his adversary dismounted, sprang from his horse, and driving liini back, presented the face of his sliield 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 (juiver 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 the most frightful wounds, while he was severely wounded in several parts of the body. He at length succeeded however, 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. t ■! I ill , iifi 154 9. Several hundred Minatarrees and Mandans attacked by a party of Assinneboins — all fled but Mah-to-toh-pa, who stood his ground, fired, and killed one of the enemy, putting the rest of them to flight, and driving off" sixty horses ! He is here seen with his lance and shield — foot-tracks of hi3 enemy in front and his own party's horse-tracks behind him, and a shower of bullets flying around his head ; here he got the name of " the four bears," as the Assinneboins said he rushed on like four bears. 10. Mah-to-toh-pa gets from his horse and kills 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 here 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 liim, whether it was manly to boast of taking the scalps of women ? and hii pride prevented him from giving me any explanation or apology. The interpreter, however, explained to roe that he had secreted himself in the most daring manner, in full sight of the Ojibbeway villa », 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 ni Je 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 Mandan village attacked by the Mandans and Minatarrees, who were driven back — Mah- to-toh-pa rushes into the entrenchment alone — an Indian fires at him and burns his face with the muzzle 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-eagle's 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 his body, which he generally 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 words of the hero while sitting upon the robe, explaining each battle as represented. __xX by a party of ground, fired, it, and driving d — foot-tracks lind him, and the name of bur bears, beway women, village, where s lance in one 1 on his horse, 1 for awhile by ps of women ? in or apology, ited himself in 'a ■?, seeking to lance, and then ; escape, which e women. Mandan village en back — Mah- es at him and Indian retreats, n through the the gun of the tn the heads of )-toh-pa is seen lis own people, the Sioux for a alour was so ex- )ur of a victory, mr-eagle's quills orses are seen in With his whip 1 arrow is seen For this wound, )urable scars on i-toh-pa or four hile sitting upon ^J\'\^. y > — ^ ("^ 7 3 \ V_V^ / _ ,v>k;— ^ '^\ -: ^-'^^. \ 10 1 \S ~ 5 H \f^ :> J \^ \^0 ■jf (i^ .<^ I 7. ■^ J J \ "-i . ^ I-: I \. t:! 'li: .' • ■ I ,11 1 I il;.:-' i:; I ft. Qithn \b/(,rs n i: ■ smmm isi;; ' V':l( I ' f I « iS£ ■-■- ^- i ,1 ■ iill 155 LETTER— No. 22. MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURL On ! "horribile visu — et mirabile dictu !" Thank God, it is over, that 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-lodge during these most remarkable and appalling scenes. Well and truly has it been said, that the Mandans are a strange and peculiar people ; and most correctly had I been informed, that this was an important and interesting scene, by those who had, on former occasions, witnessed such parts of it as are transacted out of doors, and in front of the viedicine-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 the Fur Trader, Mr. Kipp, and his two clerks accompanied me in close atten- dance for 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 week ago or more, I have been closely ensconced in an earth- covered wigwau., 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 companions all agree to be critically correct, and of the fidelity of which they have attached their certificates to the backs 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 I PI 156 n ^^i: \f-M m m I- cruel scenes, and am almost ready to shrink from the task of reciting them after I have so long promised some account of them. I entered the mcdi- cine-hoiise of these scenes, as I would have entered a church, and expected to see something extraordinary and strange, but yet in the form of worship or devotion ; but alas ! little did I expect to see the interior of their holy temple turned into a slaughter-house, and its floor strewed with the blood of its fanatic devotees. Little did I think that I was entering a house of God, where His blinded worshippers were to pollute its sacred interior with their blood, and propitiatory suffering and tortures — surpassing, if possible, the cruelty of the rack or the inquisitic ; 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 an annual transaction, held in their medicine-lodge once a year, as a great religious anniversary, and for several distinct objects, as I shull 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 in 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 accountabihty, according to their virtues and vices in this world. 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 which fortuitous circumstances, and fictions, and fables have wrought upon them. If from their superstitions and their ignorance, there are oftentimes ob- scurities and mysteries thro.n over and around their system, yet these affect not the theory itself, which is everywhere essentially the same — and which, il 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 (as 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 be a country very far to the north, of barren and hideous aspect, and covered v/ith 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 Bad or Evil Spirit they at the same time suppose to reside in Paradise, stiu 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 themselves 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-lohck-na-pic (the bull-dance) ; to the strict 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 shocking to behold, and will almost stagger the belief of the world when they read of 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- .:S;'^ m 158 ingly grotesque and amusing, and that part of them which has a rehition to the Deluge is harmless and full .of interest. In the centre of the Mandan village 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 ground, 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 '^all 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, as the very centre of the village is the rallying point of the whole nation. To it their devotions are paid on various occasions of feasts and religious exercises during the year ; and in this extraordinary scene it was often the nucleus of their mysteries and cruelties, as I shall shortly describe them, and becomes xn 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- grown leaves on it," and the bird to which they allude, ia 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 scieaming 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 ahair." 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 a relation to tavement, is a 159 their earth-covered wigwams, and "1' were screaming, and dogs were howling, and all eyes directed to the prairies in theWest, where was beheld at a mile distant a solitary individual descending a prairie bluff, and making his way in a direct line towards the village ! The whole community joined in the general expression of great alarm, as if they were in danger of instant destruction ; b'ows were strung and thrumed to test their elasticity — their horses were caught upon the prairie and run into the village —warriors were blackening their faces, 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 figw re 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, and pronouncing his name Nu-mohk-muck-a-nuh (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 while man ; he wore a robe of four white wolfskins falling back over his shoulders; on his head he had a splendid head-dress made of two ravens' skins, and in his left hand he 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 medicine or mystery lodge, which he had the means of opening, and which had been 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 the 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 over its floor ; and over these were arranged a curious group of buffalo and human skulls, and other 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-lodge, 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 he now resides ; that he had come to open the medicine-hdge, which must needs receive a present of some edged-tool from the owner of every wigwam, that V, ■\\\', ft V ill U:' ir-Hih. r f > I !|:i| IfiO ■: i I !t li 11 ^ li^ 11 'ih ¥ >.; 1 :' ^a; ii it may be sacrificod to the water; for he says, •' if this is not done, there will be another Hood, and no one will be saved, as it was with siicii tools tliat the big canoe was made." Havin;^ visited every lodge or wigwam i. the village, during the day, and having received such a present at each, as a hatchet, a knife, &c. (which is undoubtedly always prepared and ready for the occasion), he returned at evening and deposited them in the medicine-lodtje, where they remained until the afternoon of the last day of the ceremony, when, as the final or closing scene, they were thrown into the river in a deep place, from a bank tiiirty 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 person, 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, he made his appearance again, and entered tho medicine-lodge ; and at his heels (in " Indian Jile" i. e. sinj;le 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 that were to be bestowed by the chiefs on those who could most manfidly endure them. There were on this occasion about filly young men wlio entered the lists, and as they went into the sacred lodge, each one's body was chiefly naked, and covered with clay of different coloi;rs ; 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 medicine-bag — on his left 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 tliem, and having lit and smoked his medicine-pipe for tiieir success; and having- addressed them in a short speech, stimulating and encouraging them to 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-kuh (keeper or conductor of the ceremonies). He was appointed, and the authority passed by the presentation of the medicine pipe, on which they consider 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 1()1 bye, saying " that he was going bnck to the innuntains in tlio west, frnin wiience lie should assuredly return in just a year from that time, to open tlu" lodge again." He then went out of the lodge, and passing through the village, took formal leave of the chiefs in the same manner, and scan dis- appeared over the bluffs from whence he came. No more was seen of this surprising character during the occasion ; but I shall have something yet to say of him and his strange office before I get through the Lefter. To return to the lodge, — the medicine or mystery-man just appointed, and who had received his injunctions from Nu-niohk-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 lodge, 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, to drink, or to sleep, preparatory to the excruciating self-tortures which they were ir endure on the fourth day. I mentioned that I had made four paintings of these strange scenes, and the first one exhibits the interior of the medicine-lodge at this moment ; with the young men all reclining around irs sides, and the conductor or mystery-man lying by the fire, crying to the Great Spirit (platf. 66). It was just at this juncture that I was ushered 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 strange and unexpected manner. I had most luckily for myseit, painted a full-length portrait of this great magician or high-priest, but a day previous to the commencement of the 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 the unanimous voice of the doctors, and regularly initiated, and styled Te-ho- pee-nee-wash-ee-waska-pcoska, the white medicine (or Spirit) painter. With this very honourable degree which had just been conferred upon me, I was standing in front of the medicine-lodge early in the morning, 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 tlouble screen or door, and two or three dark and frowning centinels with spears VOL. i. M r.m W2 I ! i Mi or war-cliibs in their hands. I gave the wink to my companions as I was passing in, and the potency of my medicine was such as to ti;ain them a quiet admission, and ail of us were comfortably seated on elevated seats, wiiicli our conductor soon prepared for us. We were then in full view of everything that transpired in the lod^a', havmg 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 ana arrangements of the interior of this sanctuary, as above described, there was a curious, though a very strict arrangement of buff:do and human si'.ulls 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 cr crotches, not larger than a gun-rod, and placed some four or five feet apart, supporting four equally delicate rods, resting in the crotches ; thus 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 so 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 back, with its head and 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 sanctissivms sanctorum, from which seemed to emanate all the sanctity of their proceedings, ar.d to which, all seemed to be paying the highest devotional respect. This strange, yet important essence of their mysteries, I made every enquiry about ; but got no further infornation 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 Jraternity 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 ! had a degree or two yet to take before I could fathom ail ,S i'li Kin ions as I wns »in them a quiet ted seats, wliich ;tl in the lod^e, the first of the sunrise, and re- :h these strange e interior of this ifjh a very strict )or of the lodjre, and in front of \ud very delicate of four posts cr or five feet apart, !8 ; thus forming er of still smaller On the centre of ot exactly under- rvened between it iproach it, but all jmbly sent forth a and I at length ling the faci, that nysteries, that not >rdeal, and all the from approaching trance from where its head and legs ingly delicate red ht coloured orna- lie very nucleus of leemed to emanate emed to be paying es, I made every ?hat I could learn I the silent respect of the Jratcrnity ne that it " could could, by the full I could fathom all ill 1 ' I 1 ( I ' ] > 1 1 i Ui3 the arcnnn of Indiiin niipcrstilions ; and tli.it this little, .si>(>iiiiiip;ly wondi'ii'iil, relic of iiiitiiiuity, 8yn)l)ol of some j;raiul event, or " secret too vuliiuhlu to l)t' told," ini;;ht Imvc hecu at last notliin;;; but a silly hunch of strinj^s ang the three first, and part of the fourth day also, of the Mandan rclig'-^us 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 medicine-lodge, by other members of the com- munity, one of which formed a material part or link of these strange cere- monials. This very curious and xceedingly grotesque part of their perform- ance, which they denominated Bel-lohck nah-'piok (the bull-dance) 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 times 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 the curb, or ' biy 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 tlieir backs, with the horns and hoofs and tails remaining on ; their bodies in a horizontal position, enabling them to imitc.io- the actions of the buffalo, whilst tivy weie 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 a rattle, and a slen- der white rod or staff, six feet long, in the other ; and carried on his back, a bunch of green willow boughs about the usual size of a bundle of straw. Tii3se eight men, being divided into four pairs, took their positions on the four different sides of the curb or big canoe, representing thereby the four cardinal points; and between each group of tl;em,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 liand and a rattle in the other, and (beiiii^ four in number) answering again to the four cardinal points. The bodies of 'hese four young men were chiefly naked, with no ether dress upon them thvtn a beautiful ke!t (c quartz-quaw), around the waist, made of eagle's I abandoned all by the medicine , and even upon IS a sort of theft le interior of the I day also, of the rroiip about him, was every article itary and gloomy y man's presence 8 were many very the middle of the ibers of the com- ese strange cere- t of their perform- ll-dance) of which lich they held this they attribute the eason — is repealed day, twelve times nd always around the principal actors s thrown over their their bodies in a )ns of the buffalo, . (plate 67). ainted in the most ct similarity; their ler with black, red, had also a lock of I rattle, and a slen- rried on his back, a bundle of straw. iir positions on the ig thereby the four the back turned to dance, keening step 1 rattle in the other, cardinal points. The no rther dress upon ;aist,made of eagle's ill; 11 u ' 1 1 ili- ] .1 : i' 165 (|uil!s and ermine, and very splendid head-dresses made of tlie same materials. Two of these figures were painted entirely black with pounded charcoal and grease, whom they called the *' fimament 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 danre, 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 wildness 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 wel' 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 youn^ men are reclining and fasting in the lodge as above de- scribed. On the first day, this *' bull-dance" is given once to each of the cardinal points, and the medicine-man smokes his pipe in those directions. On the second day, twice to each ; three times to each on the third day, and 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 pitiful 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 them ; 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 music for the bull-dunce, 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 as before, until by the same method, they are again called into a similar action. The supernumeraries or other characters who pi y their parts in this grand spectacle, are numerous and well worth description. By the side of the ■* ■*! m • I ' ! f> a big canoe arc socn two men with the skins of grizzly bears thrown over them, using the skins as a ma^k, over their heads. These ravenous animals arc continually growling and thrc.ii,,Ming to devour everything before them and interfering with the forms of their religious ceremony. To appease, thorn, the women are continually bringing and placing before them dishes of meat, which are as often snatched up und carried to the prairie, by two men whose bodies are painted black and their heads while, whom tliey call bald eagles, who are darling by them and grasping their food from before them as they pass. These are again chased upon the plains by a hundred or more small boys, who are naked, with their bodies painted yellow and their heads white, whom they call Cabris or antelopes ; who at length get tlic food away from them and devour it ; thereby ii^culcating (perhaps) the beautiful moral, that by the dispensations of Providence his bountiful gifts will fall 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 on 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 ornamentiiij^ 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 continuation of his influence in sending them InifTaloes 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 alas! 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 blutf, about a mile in the west, down the side of which a man was seen descending at lull speed towards the village ! This strange character darted about in a zig-zag course in all directions on the prairie, like a boy in pursuit of a butterlly, until lie 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 rings of an inch or more in diameter, which were marked here and there ail over him ; and frightful indentures of white around his mouth, resembling canine teeth. Added to his hitJeous appearance, he gave the most frightful shrieks and screams as he dashed through the village Ifi7 us thrown ovor iivcnons aniniuls ing before tlicm y. To appease, c them dishes of iiie, by two men 1 tliey call bald •om before them ly a hundred or yellow and their length get the g (perhaps) the s bountiful gifts haracters, except which they use ;lusively by them and ornamentii);i; n who beat upon :)lications to the them InifTaloes nistering courage thcni, that " the ry atmosphere all aid the mouth of day O-ke-hee-de )me, and yet he in the midst of all all these exulta- 16 lodges !- -men, er with alarm, as out a mile in the ing at tull speed 1 a zig-zag course utterlly, until he red that his body jounded charcoal a shining black, leter, Avhich were 3 oT white around 3 appearance, he rough the village and entered the terrified group, which was composed (in that (piarler) chiefly of females, who had assembled to witness the amusements which were Iran- sjjiring around the *' big canoe." This unearthly looking creature carried in his two hands a wand orstalFof 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, save tliose 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 stniggling to get out of his reach. In this moment of general terror and alarm there was an inst-uii check ! and all for a few moments were as silent as death. The old master of ceremonies, who had run from his position at the big oanoe, had met this monster of fiends, and having thrust the medicine-pipe before him, held him still and immoveable under its charm ! This check ijave the females an opportunity to get out of his reach, and when they were free from their danger, though all hearts beat yet with the instant excite- ment, their alarm soon cooled down into the most exorbitant laughter and shouts of applause at his sudden defeat, and the awkward and ridiculous 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 mo-? striking group than these two individuals did for a few moments, wiil- '; eir eye-balls set in direct 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-kee-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 under the charm of his sacred mystery-pipe. When the superior powers of the medicine-pipe (on which hang all these annual uiysteries) 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 he seemed delighted to recover the use of his limbs again, and power of chang- ing his position from the 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 farther information, which I am constrained to give, of the plight in which this demon of terror and vulgarity made his entrc into the midst of the Mandan village, and to the centre and nucleus of their first and greatest religious ceremony. i.'l ^h M' '•I^i /fl '«llill! Ui8 Then, to proceed ; I siiid that this strange personage's body was naked — was painted jet black with charcoal and bear's grease, with a wand in his hands of eight feet in length with a red ball at the end of it, which he was rubbing about on the ground in front of him as he ran. In addition to this he had — ung gee ah waheea notch,t oheks tcha, ung gee an ung hutch tow a tow ah ches menny, Ung gee ah to to wun nee^ ahkst to wan ec eigh' s lu w. In this plight, in which I have not dared fully to represent him in the picture, 1 e 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 defeat, and all eyes gazed upon him ; of chiefs and of warriors — matrons and even of their tender-aged and timid daughters, whose education hud taught them to receive the moral of these scenes without the shock of impropriety, that would have startled a more fastidious and consequently sensual-thinking people. After repeated attempts thus made, and thus defeated in several parts of the crowd, this blackened monster was retreating over the ground where tiie buffalo-dance was going on, and having (apparently, par accident) swag- gered 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 nahk s tammee ung s towa ; ee vng ee aht gwaht ee o nunghths tcha ho a, tumniee oxt no ah, unhstono ah hi en en ah nahxt gwi aht gahtch gun ne. Gwee en on doatcht chee en aht gunne how hew 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 from every mouth in the multitude, who were all praying to the Great Spirit to send them buffaloes 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 hour or so that he had been jostled about amongst man and beasts, to the great amusement and satisfaction of the lookers-on, he seemed to have become exceedingly exhausted, and anxiously looking out for some feasible mode of escape. In this awkward predicament he became the laughing-stock and butt for the women, who being 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 botli hands full of yellow dirt — dashed it into his face and eyes, and all y was naked — a wand in his , which he was In addition to ; an ung hutch hkst to wan ec iresent him in may and alarm nd exceedingly in check from e intently fixed ss of the magic )uts of satisfac- d of warriors — 'hose education ut the shock of id consequently several parts of ound where the iccident) swag- ilo and engaged in the attitude ung s towa ; ee h, unhstono ah cht chee en aht in succession, ch pealed from le Great Spirit ng the season, entirely to the ing part of the It amongst man 1 lookers-on, he isly looking out :k and butt for ring in groups iilemma, which up behind him id eyes, and all ^^ii <'-\\- ij . I ^fl ' I ; I ' 1 ' 1 rli The in airai liavi h (iu I' WJ over iiini, and his body being covered witli grease, took instantly a different liue. He seemed heart-broken at this signal disgrace, and commenced crying most vehemently, when, a I'instant, another caught his wand from hia liund, and broke it across her knee. It was snatched for by others, who 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 piquets 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 .aff from whence he first appeared. At the moment of this signal victory, and when all eyes Ic •lighi him as he disappeared over the bluffs, the whole village unite.' he- ■ voices in shouts of satisfaction. The bull-dance then stopped, and prep " tions were instantly made for the commencement of the cruelties which \,\:\e co take place within the lodge, leaving us to draw, from what hf -us*^ transpired, the following beautiful moral : — That in the midst of their religious ceremonies, the Evil Spirit (0-kee- liee-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 connnunity whom he came to abuse. At the close of this exciting scene, preparations were made, as above stated, 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 voung men sustain themselves in this most extreme and excruciating ordeal. Tiie 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, widi his " big pipe" in 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-hong," the cutting scene (plate 68). Around the sides of the lodge are seen, still rcLliiiiiig, as I have before mentioned, a part of the group, whilst others of *hi.iii li ive passed the ordeal of self-tojtures, and have been removed out of th(^ lodge ; and others still are seen in the very act of submitting to them, w'uii were inflicted in the following manner: — After having removed the mnctinn sanctorum, or little scaffold, of which 1 before spoke, and having n *. 'Ill '■ii':; 170 .1 f ,H > ft removed also tlic buffalo and human .skulls from the floor, and attarhcd tliciii to tlu< posts of the lo(l body was suspended by them, and then, while the blood was streaming down their lir/js, the bystanders hung upon the splints each man's appropriate shield, bow and quiver, &c. ; and in many instances, the skull of a buftafo with the horns on it, was attached to each lower arm and each lower leg, for the purpose, probably, of preventing by their great weight, the struggling, whicii might otherwise take place to their disadvantage 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 additio.nU weights which were attached to them, was raised six or eight inches by i he skewers ; and their heads sunk forward on the breasts, or thrown backwards, in a much more frightful con- > (lition, according to the way in which they were hung up. Ji! (!.li I ; I .Hi 'I I. 4!lll and attarhcd their pusilioiis ; tortures — the splints (which young felhiws, for nearly four leed hinii^elt'on jrniance of the ing manner : — it was taken iip iiife in his right jdges, and then roduce as mueh gers, and being her, who held a em through the top of the lodge purpose), which y began to haul )ended from the passed through below the shoul- er the extensor , and below the 1 on the ground armed, in all in- and which, in its the weight of his- s streaming down nan's appropriate I of a buflfalo with lower leg, for the struggling, which ley were hung up. ed higher by the I, leaving his feet, n this plight they ;sh, to support tlie were attached to their heads sunk nore frightful con- tlie Hes me tlirc tlu' knil and \ i>y I bud one him S seen iirou man in 111 grad its a cries the ( tiniK cont from and corp wliic tiny each lest W tiirni leavi is di atelj grou strik fully Jn thou will is lo\ the t 171 Tlic unHiiicliini; lurtitndo, with wliicli every one of tlioin bore tliis part of the torture surpassed credulity ; each one us the knife was passed tlirou^^li his Hcsh sustained an unchant^oable countenance ; and several of them, seeinir me makinfi^ sketches, beckoned me to look at their faces, which I watched through all this horrid operation, without being i>ble to detect anything;; but the pleasantest smiles as they looked me in the eye, while I couhl hear the knife rip through the flosh, and feel enough of it myself to start involuntary and uncontrollable tears over uiy 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 ope"'*ion on another who was ready, and each one in his turn passed into the charge of others, who instantly introduced him to a new and improved stage of their refinements in cruelty. Surrounded by imps and demons as they appear, a dozen or more, who seem to be concerting and devising means for his excpiisite agony, gather around him, when one of the number advances towards him in a sneering manner, and commences turning him around with a poh; which he brings in his hand for the purpose. Tkis is done in a gentle manner at first ; but gradually increased, when the brave fellow, whose proud spirit can control its agony no longer, burst out in the most lamental)le 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 to this condition, which is generally done 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, and the turning has gradually ceased, as his voice aiid his strength have given out. leaving hin' to hang entirely still, and apparently lifeless ; when his tongue is distende(i from his mouth, and his medicine-bag, which he has affection- ately and supcrstitiously clung to with his left hand, has dropped to the ground ; the si ^nal is given to the mea on top of the lodge, by gently striking the cord with the pole below, when they very gradually and care- fully 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 h.^ trusts will protect hun, and enable him to get up and walk away. As soon as he is lowered to the ground thus, one of the bystanders advances, and pulls out the two splints or pins from the breasts and shoulders, thereby dii;engaging I. ■ • > i i. * mmsaam vn\ I,.;: I : V^^ 172 liim from iKe cords by whicli he lias been \\m\\>; up ; but lcavin|i- all ilic otliiMs with tlu'ir weii^ii'.s, &c. hanp;iiif; to his Hcsh. Ill this condition he lies for six or eight minutes, until he gets strength to rise and move himself, for no one is allowed to assist or oUcr him aid, as he is here enjoying the most valued privilege whicli 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 strength 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 buH'alo skull before him ; and here, in the most earnest and humble manner, by holding up the little linger 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 oil' 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 immediate'y afterwards (oi 1 apparently with very little concern or emotion), with a similar speech, extended in the same way, the /ore- finger 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 only weapon for the left hand. One would think that this mutihi .on 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 of 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 incontostible proof, by five or six correspon- ding scars on eoch 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 aiteries taken up r 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 1 learned from a close inspection of their wounds from day to day) that the bleeding is but vei_,- slight and soon ceases, probably from the fact of their extreme exhaustion and debility, caused by want of sustenance and sleep, which checks the natural circulation, and admirably at the same times pre- pares them to meet the severity of these tortures without the same degree of sensibility and pain, which, under other circumstances, might result in inflamniatioii and death. loaviiij;- all the le gets strciigtli r oll'or him aid, mdaii can boast Spirit," ill this his hands and he weights still here is another alo skull before loldiiig up the ;s to Him, in a rifice ; when he ' near the hand, rid ordeal, gave lud I saw also ry little concern way, the fore- ving on the left lich they deem •r the left hand, arricd (juitc far :liicfs and digni- litlle finger of ^jreater sacrifice r of their most r six correspon- hat they had so dible operation, hey volunteer to )n of their tribe. amputated, nor :1 to them or the it Spirit to cure, ile fact (which I to day) that the the fact of their ance and sleep, same times pre- the same degree might result in During the whole of the time of this cruel part of these most extraordi- nary inflictions, tin; chiefs and di'^nitiiriis 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 lie 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 '1 couragement of the young men, the power and efllicacy of the mcdicine- jiipe, which has disarmed the monster O-kee-he-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 described, 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 coinmcncement of this part of the cruelties was given by the old master of ceremonies, who again ran out as in the biifl'alo- dance, and leaning against the big canoe, with his medicine-^npe in his hand, began to cry. This was done several times in the afternoon, as often as there were six or eight who hud 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 buflfalo skulls and other weights attached to their flesh, and dragging on the ground ! There were then iin readiness, and prepared for the purpose, about twenty young men, selected of equal height and equal age; with their bodies chiefly naked, with beautiful (and similar) head-dresses of war-eagle's quills, on their heads, and a wreath made of willow boughs held in the hands between them, connecting them in a chain or circle in which they ran around the biy canoe, with all possible speed, raising their voices in screams and yelps to the highest pitch that was pos- sible, and keeping the curb or big canoe in the centre, as their nucleus. Then 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 up to him, one on each side, and by wrapping a broad leather strap around his wrists, without tying it, grasped it firm underneath the hand, and stood prepared for what iliey call Eh-ke-nah-ka-nah-pick (the lust race, pla rE 69). This, the spectator looking on would suppose was most correctly named, for he would think it was the last race they could possibly run in this world. In this condition they stand, pale and ghastly, from abstinence and loss of blood, until all are prepared, and the word is given, when all start and run around, outside of the other ring ; and each poor fellow, vvjih his weights i '..'Jl I ;: - 1 '/ 1 i 1 i li'^ ! J I'll III Jill lil I. 174 dragging on the ground, and his furious conductors by his side, who hurry him 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 by such violent force as to tear the flesh out with the splint, which (as they say) can never be pulled out endwise, without greatly offending the Great Spirit ard defeatiiiLr the object for which they have thus far suffered. The splints or skewers which are put through the breast and the shoulders, take up a part of the pectoral or tnipegius muscle, which is necessary for the support of the great weisjlit ol their bodies, and which, as have before mentioned, ure withdrawn as soon as he is lowered down — but all the nthiMs, on the legs and arms, seem to be very ingf-niously passed through the flesh and integuments without taking up the muscle, and even these, to be broken out, ro;£uire so strong and so violent a force that most of the poor fellows fainted under the operation, and when they were freed from the last of the buffalo 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, appearing like nothing but a mangled and a loathsome corpse! At this strange and friglit- ful juncture, the two men who had dragged them, fled through the crowd and away upon the prairie, as if they were guilty of some enormous crime, and were fleeing from summary vengeance. Each poor fellow, having thus patiently and manfully endured the priva- tions and tortures devised for him, and (in this 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 issued Lis repeated prayers, and entrusted his life : and in whom he reposes the most implicit confidence for his preservation and recovery. As an evidence of this, and of the high value which these youths set upon this privilege, there is no person, not a relation nor a chief of the tribe, who is allowed, or who would dare, to step forward to offer an aiding hand, even to save his life ; for not only the rigid customs of the nation, and the pride of the individual who has entrusted his life to the keeping of the Great Spirit, would sternly reject such a tender; but their supers. ition, which is the strongest of all arguments in an Indian community, would alone, hold all the tribe in fear and dread of interfering, when they consider they have so good a reason to believe that the Great Spirit has undertaken the special care and protection of his devoted worshippers. 175 ormous crime, In tliis " last race," which was the struggle that finally closed their suffer- ings, each one was dragged until he fainted, and was thus left, looking more like the dead than the living: and thus each one laid, until, by the aid of the Great Spirit, he was in a few minutes seen gradually rising, and at last reeling and staggering, like a drunken man, through the crowd (which made way for 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 assembled as spectators, and all raised the most piercing and violent yells and screams they could possibly produce, to drown the cries of the suffering 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, ard when they were thus passed through this shocking ordeal, the medicine-men and the chiefs returned to 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 flesh for honourable scars. I said«//, but there was one poor fellow though (and I shudder to tell it), who was dragged around and around the circle, with the skull of an elk hanging to the flesh on one of his legs, — several had jumped upon it, but to no effect, for the splint was under the sinew, which could 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 his medicine-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 and fine-looking youth, soon recovered his senses and his strength, looking deliberately at 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 through the crowd (instead of walking, which they are never again at liberty to do until the flesh is torn out, and the article left) to the prairie, and over which, for the distance of half a mile, to a sequestered spot, without any attendant, where he laid three days and three nights, yet longer, without food, and praying to the Great Spirit, until suppuration took place in the wound, and by the decaying of the flesh the weight was dropped, 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 eat, 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 bin), in such way as he may choose, and some of tliose modes are ( t. 17G I \ ■ .■;:'i ::' #1 B - !t far more extraordinary than the one which I have just named. Several of the Traders, who l)ave been for a number of years in the habit of seeing this part of the ceremony, have told me that two years since, when they were lookiii*^ on, there was one whose flesh on the arms was so strong- that the weighiii could not be left, and he dragged them with his body to the river by thf; side of the village, where he set a stake fast in the ground on the t(.p of the bank, and fastening cords to it, he let himself half-way down a perpendicular wall of rock, of twenty-five or thirty feet, where the weight of his body was suspended by the two cords attached to the flesh of his arms. In this awful condition he hung for several days, equi-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 disgusting instances, of which I have already given enough to convince the world of the correct- ness of the established fact of the Indian's superior stoicisri 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 pa''m ; the credit of outdoing anything and everybody,, md of enduring rnon; 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 the'' for adhering so strictly to an ancient celebration, founded in superstilio; 3 and mysteries, of which they know not the origin, and constituting a material part and feature in the code and forms of ' ' -eligion. Reader, I wi" return w, ■: .,;; . moment to the medicine-lodge, which is just to be closed, and then „e wiii indulge in some general reflections upon what has passed, and in what, and for what purposes this strange batch of mysteries has been instituted 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-man, master of ceremonies returned, (still crying 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 of every man's wigwam, to bo given as a sacrifice to the water, and leaving the lodge securely fa '(;ned, he approached the bank of the river, when all the medicine-men ati uded 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 cannot be recovered, and where they are, correctly speakinjr, made a sacr, ice to the water. This part of the affair takes place just exactly ;.t sun-down, and closes the scene, being the end or finale of the Mandan religious ceremony. '^ h 177 The reader vull forgive me 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 mc ; which I offer for th6 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 tru7isacted, mlhout any addition or exaggeration. " J. Kivv, Agent Amer. Fur Co77ipuny, L. Crawfokd, Clerk. " Mandan Village, July 20, 1833. Abraham Bogaud." The strange country tliat I am in — its excitements — its accidents and wild incidents which startle nic at almost every n^ioment, prevent me from any very elaborate disqnioition upon the above remarkable events at present ; and even had I all the time and leisure of a country gentleman, and all the additional information which I am daily procuring, and daily expect to pro- cure her. after in explanation of these unaccountable mysteries, yet do I fear 'ha. ' '^re would be that inexplicable difficulty that hangs over most of the CI OT'. > and traditions of these simple people, who have no history lo 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 'O means surprising ; as I have learned from every tribe 1 iiave visited lat they all have some high mountain in their vicinity, where they insist on 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 circum-' Mices 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), • d making liis appearance " from the high-mountains in the West;" and me 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 undaul)tcdly 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 tho occasion, eomes into the village in tlu- morning, endeavouring to keep uj, the semblance ot reality ; for their tradition says, that at a very ancient peric ' such a man (lid actually come from the West — that his Iwdy was of tli(> v. iiite colour, as vol.. I. K Ji ' i r Ml MM a. I ' '( :i 1 1 . I-! flli! I i 178 ihis man's body is represented — that he wore a robe of four white wolfskins — his head-dress was made of two raven's skins — and in his left hand was a luit^e pipe. He said, " he was at one time the only man — he told them of the destruction of every thing on the earth's surface by water — that he stop|)ed in his bitj canoe on a high mountain in the West, where he landed and was saved." "That the Mandans, and all other people were bound to make yearly sacrifices of some cdged-tools to the water, for of such things the [)ig canoe was made. That he instructed the Mandans how to build their medicine- lodge, and taught them also the forms of these annual ceremonies ; and told them that as long as they made these sacrifices, and perfovmecl their ritrs to tlio full letter, they might be assured of the fact, that they would be tlic 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, they might be assm-ed, that iheir 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, beer, long living under the dierd jf sucli an injunction, and in the fear of depaniij, 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, which :non 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 effort or form of imitation. It would seem from their tradition of the willow branch, and the dove, that t'nese people must have had some proximity to some part of the civilized world ; or that missionaries or others have been formerly among them, iiicuh'ating the C'-istian religion and the Mosaic account of the Flood; which is, in this and some other respects, decidedly different from the theory ,"hich most natural people have distinctly established of that event. 'J'liere are other strong, and almost decisive proofs in my opinion, in support /if the assertion, vhich are to be drawn from the diversity of colour in their hair an. I complexions, as I have before described, as well as from their tra- dition just related, of the "jftrst or oiibj man" whose body was white, and w' came from the West, telling them of the destruction of the earth l)y .1 ite; , .nd instructing them in the forms of these my«*:eries : and, in addition t the above, I will add the two following very curious stories, which I had froui several of their old and dignified chiefs, and which are, no doubt, standing and credited traditions of the tribe. " rhe Ma\.dans (people of the pheasants) were the first peo[)le created in the world, and they originally lived inside of the earth ; they raised many 179 vines, and one of them had grown up through a hole in the earth, ovir lieatl, and one of their yonng mc. dumb up it until he came out on tiie top of the ground, on the bank of the river, wlicre the Mandan village stands. He looked around, and admi.cd the beautiful counlry and jirairios about him — saw many buffaloes — killed (.r.e with his bow and arrows, and found that its meat was good to eat. He returned, and related what he had seen ; when a number of others went up the vine with him, and wit- nessed the same things. Amongst those who went up, were two very pretty young women, who were favourites of the chiefs, 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 up, but whose curiosity led her to try it as soon as she got a secret op[)ortunity, 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. She was very much hurt by the fall, 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 who had got up ; but they built the Mandan village, where it formerly stood, a grea'. ways below on the river ; and the remainder of the people live under ground to this day." The above tradition is told with great gravity by their 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-muck-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 his side, which she did and ate it, which proved to be buti'alo-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 dene. " The friends of the girl soon after endeavoured to disgrace her, by telling her that she was encicnte, which she did not 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 a great excitenient in the village, and as no one could stand forth to accuse her, she was looked upon as ijreut medicine. She soon after went off secretly to the upper Mandan village, wlierc the child was born. " Tireat search was made for her before she was found ; as it was rxpertc