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Title: Illustrations of the manners, customs, & condition of the North American Indians, Vol. 1 (of 2)

Author: George Catlin

Release date: August 16, 2022 [eBook #68768]
                Most recently updated: August 23, 2023

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: Chatto & Windus, Picadilly

Credits: Richard Hulse, Robert Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, & CONDITION OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS, VOL. 1 (OF 2) ***



[Illustration: _G. Catlin_

  _The Author painting a Chief at the base of the Rocky Mountains._]




                             ILLUSTRATIONS
                                 OF THE
                    _MANNERS, CUSTOMS, & CONDITION_
                                 OF THE
                        NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.

                       =With Letters and Notes=,

     +Written during Eight Years of Travel and Adventure among the
           Wildest and most Remarkable Tribes now Existing+.

                          +By+ GEORGE CATLIN.

                                  WITH
             _THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY COLOURED ENGRAVINGS_
                 FROM THE AUTHOR’S ORIGINAL PAINTINGS.

                             [Illustration]

                        IN TWO VOLUMES.—VOL. I.

                               =London:=
                      CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY.
                                 1876.


                                LONDON:
                      PRINTED BY J. OGDEN AND CO.,
                       172, ST. JOHN STREET, E.C.




                                CONTENTS
                                   OF
                           THE FIRST VOLUME.


+Frontispiece+:—_The Author painting a Chief in an Indian Village._

+Map+ _of_ +Indian Localities+ _embraced within the Author’s Travels_.


                             LETTER—No. 1.

Wyöming, birth-place of the Author, p. 2.—His former Profession—First
  cause of his Travels to the Indian Country—Delegation of Indians in
  Philadelphia—First start to the Far West, in 1832, p. 3.—Design of
  forming a National Gallery—Numbers of Tribes visited, and number of
  Paintings and other things collected, p. 4.—Probable extinction of
  the Indians, p. 5.—Former and present numbers of—The proper mode of
  approaching them, and estimating their character, p. 5–10.

+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, pl. 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, pl. 4.—Beautiful prairie shores, p.
  19, pl. 5.—Picturesque clay bluffs, p. 19, pl. 6.—First appearance of
  a steamer at the Yellow Stone, and curious conjectures of the Indians
  about it, p. 20.—Fur Company’s Establishment at the mouth of Yellow
  Stone—M‘Kenzie—His table and politeness, p. 21.—Indian tribes in this
  vicinity, p. 22.


                 LETTER—+No. 4, Mouth of Yellow Stone+.

Upper Missouri Indians—General character, p. 23.—Buffaloes—Description
  of, p. 24, pls. 7, 8.—Modes of killing them—Buffalo-hunt, p.
  25.—Chardon’s Leap, p. 26, pl. 9.—Wounded bull, p. 26, pl.
  10.—Extraordinary feat of Mr. M‘Kenzie, p. 27.—Return from the chase,
  p. 28.


                 LETTER—+No. 5, Mouth of Yellow Stone+.

Author’s painting-room, and characters in it, p. 29.—Blackfoot
  chief, p. 29, pl. 11.—Other Blackfoot chiefs, and their costumes,
  p. 30.—Blackfoot woman and child, p. 30, pls. 12, 13;—Scalps,
  and objects for which taken—red pipes, and pipe-stone quarry, p.
  31.—Blackfoot bows, shields, arrows and lances, p. 32, 33, pl.
  18.—Several distinguished Blackfeet, p. 34, pls. 14, 15, 16, 17.


                 LETTER—+No. 6, Mouth of Yellow Stone+.

Medicines or mysteries—medicine-bag—origin of the word medicine,
  p. 35.—Mode of forming the medicine-bag, p. 36.—Value of the
  medicine-bag to the Indian, and materials for their construction,
  p. 37, pl. 18.—Blackfoot doctor or medicine-man—his mode of curing
  the sick, p. 39, pl. 19.—Different offices and importance of
  medicine-men, p. 41.


                 LETTER—+No. 7, Mouth of Yellow Stone+.

Crews and Blackfeet—General character and appearance, p. 42.—Killing
  and drying meat, p. 43, pl. 22.—Crow lodge or wigwam, p. 43, pl.
  20.—Striking their tents and encampment moving, p. 44, pl. 21.—Mode
  of dressing and smoking skins, p. 45.—Crows—Beauty of their
  dresses—Horse-stealing or capturing—Reasons why they are called
  rogues and robbers of the first order, &c. p. 46.


                 LETTER—+No. 8, Mouth of Yellow Stone+.

Further remarks on the Crows—Extraordinary length of hair, p.
  49.—Peculiarities of the Crow head, and several portraits, p. 50,
  pls. 24, 25, 26, 27.—Crow and Blackfeet women—Their modes of dressing
  and painting, p. 51.—Differences between the Crow and Blackfoot
  languages, p. 51.—Different hands—Different languages, and numbers
  of the Blackfeet, p. 52.—Knisteneaux—Assinneboins, and Ojibbeways,
  p. 53.—Assinneboins a part of the Sioux—Their mode of boiling meat,
  p. 54.—Pipe-dance, p. 55, pl. 52.—Wi-jun-jon (a chief) and wife,
  pls. 28, 29.—His visit to Washington, p. 56.—Dresses of women
  and children of the Assinneboins, p. 57, pl. 34.—Knisteneaux (or
  Crees)—character and numbers, and several portraits, p. 57, pls. 30,
  31.—Ojibbeways—Chief and wife, p. 58, pls. 35, 36.


                 LETTER—+No. 9, Mouth of Yellow Stone+.

Contemplations of the Great 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.


            LETTER—+No. 10, Mandan Village, Upper Missouri+.

A strange place—Voyage from Mouth of Yellow Stone down the river to
  Mandans—Commencement—Leave M‘Kenzie’s Fort, p. 66.—Assinneboins
  encamped on the river Wi-jun-jon lecturing on the customs of white
  people—Mountain-sheep, p. 67,—War-eagles—Grizzly bears, p. 68.—Clay
  bluffs, “brick-kilns,” volcanic remains, p. 69, pls. 37, 38.—Red
  pumice stone—A wild stroll—Mountaineer’s sleep, p. 70.—Grizzly bear
  and cubs—Courageous attack—Canoe robbed, p. 71.—Eating our meals
  on a pile of drift-wood—Encamping in the night—Voluptuous scene of
  wild flowers, buffalo bush and berries, p. 72.—Adventure after an
  elk—War-party discovered, p. 74.—Magnificent scenery in the “Grand
  Détour”—Stupendous clay bluffs—Table land, p. 75, pl. 39.—Antelope
  shooting, p. 76, pl. 40.—“Grand Dome”—Prairie dogs—Village—Fruitless
  endeavours to shoot them, p. 77, pl. 42.—Pictured bluff and the Three
  Domes, p. 78, pls. 43, 44.—Arrival at the Mandan village, p. 79.


                    LETTER—+No. 11, Mandan Village+.

Location—Village, p. 80, pl. 45.—Former locations fortification of
  their village—Description of village and mode of constructing their
  wigwams, p. 81, 82.—Description of interior—Beds—Weapons—Family
  groups, p. 82, 83, pl. 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, pl. 47.—The “big
  canoe”—Medicine-lodge—A strange medley, p. 88.—Mode of depositing
  the dead on scaffolds, p. 89.—Respect to the dead—Visiting the
  dead—Feeding the dead—Converse with the dead—Bones of the dead, p.
  90, pl. 48.


                    LETTER—+No. 13, Mandan Village+.

The wolf-chief—Head-chief of the tribe, p. 92, pl.
  49.—Several portraits, p. 92, pls. 50, 51, 52, 53.—Personal
  appearance—Peculiarities—Complexion, p. 93.—“Cheveux gris,” p.
  94.—Hair of the men—Hair of the women, p. 95, pl. 54.—Bathing and
  swimming, p. 96.—Mode of swimming—Sudatories or vapour-baths, p.
  97–8, pl. 71.


                    LETTER—+No. 14, Mandan Village+.

Costumes of the Mandans—High value set upon them—Two horses for
  a head-dress—Made of war-eagles’ quills and ermine, p. 100,
  101.—Head-dresses with horns, p. 103.—A Jewish custom, p. 104.


                    LETTER—+No. 15, Mandan Village+.

Astonishment of the Mandans at the operation of the Author’s
  brush, p. 105.—The Author installed medicine or medicine-man,
  p. 106.—Crowds around the Author—Curiosity to see and to touch
  him, p. 107.—Superstitious fears for those who were painted, p.
  168.—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, pl. 55.


                    LETTER—+No. 16, Mandan Village+.

An Indian beau or dandy, p. 112.—A fruitless endeavour to paint one, p.
  113.—Mah-to-toh-pa (the four bears), second chief of the tribe—The
  Author feasted in his wigwam, p. 114, pl. 62.—Viands of the feast, p.
  115.—Pemican and marrow-fat—Mandan pottery—Robe presented, p. 116.


                    LETTER—+No. 17, Mandan Village+.

Polygamy—Reasons and excuses for it, p. 118.—Marriages, how
  contracted—Wives bought and sold, p. 120.—Paternal and filial
  affection—Virtue and modesty of women—Early marriages—Slavish lives
  and occupations of the Indian women, p. 121.—Pomme blanche—Dried
  meat—Caches—Modes of cooking, and times of eating—Attitudes in
  eating, p. 122.—Separation of males and females in eating—the Indians
  moderate eaters—Some exceptions, p. 123.—Curing meat in the sun,
  without smoke or salt—The wild Indians eat no salt, p. 124.


                    LETTER—+No. 18. Mandan Village+.

Indian dancing—“Buffalo dance,” p. 127, pl. 56.—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 Mandan boys, p. 131, pl.
  57.—Game of Tchung-kee, p. 132, pl. 59.—Feasting—Fasting and
  sacrificing—White buffalo robe—Its value p. 133, pl. 47.—Rain makers
  and rain stoppers, p. 131.—Rain making, p. 135, pl. 58.—“The thunder
  boat”—The big double medicine, p. 140.


                    LETTER—+No. 20, Mandan Village+.

Mandan archery—“Game of the arrow,” p. 141, pl. 60.—Wild
  horses—Horse-racing, p. 142, pl. 61.—Foot war-party in council, p.
  143, pl. 63.


            LETTER—+No. 21, Mandan Village, Upper Missouri+.

Mah-to-toh-pa, (the Four Bears)—His costume and his portrait, p. 145,
  pl. 64.—The robe of Mah-to-toh-pa, with all the battles of his life
  painted on it, p. 148, pl. 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, pl. 66.—Bei-lohck-nah-pick, (the bull
  dance), p. 164, pl. 67.—Pohk-hong (the cutting or torturing scene),
  p. 169, pl. 68.—Ah-ke-nah-ka-nah-pick, (the last race) p. 173,
  pl. 69.—Extraordinary instances of cruelty in self-torture, p.
  175.—Sacrificing to the water, p. 176.—Certificates of the Mandan
  ceremonies—Inferences drawn from these horrible cruelties, with
  traditions, p. 177.—Tradition of O-kee-hee-de (the Evil Spirit), p.
  179.—Mandans can be civilized, p. 183.


                  LETTER—+No. 23, Minataree Village+.

Location and numbers—Origin, p. 185.—Principal village, pl. 70.—Vapour
  baths, pl. 71.—Old chief, Black Moccasin, p. 186, pl. 72.—Two
  portraits, man and woman, pls. 73, 74.—Green corn dance, p. 189, pl.
  75.


                  LETTER—+No. 24, Minataree Village+.

Crows, in the Minataree village, p. 191.—Crow chief on horseback,
  in full dress, p. 192, pl. 76.—Peculiarities of the Crows—Long
  hair—Semi-lunar faces, p. 193, pls. 77, 78.—Rats in the Minataree
  village, p. 195.—Crossing Knife River in “bull boat”—Swimming of
  Minataree girls, p. 196.—Horse-racing—A banter—Riding a “naked horse,”
  p. 197.—Grand buffalo surround, p. 199, pl. 79.—Cutting up and
  carrying in meat, p. 201.


        LETTER—+No. 25, Little Mandan Village, Upper Missouri+.

An Indian offering himself for a pillow, p. 203.—Portraits of
  Riccarees, p. 204, pls. 83, 84, 82, 81.—Riccaree village, p. 204, pl.
  80.—Origin of the Mandans—Welsh colony—Expedition of Madoc, p. 206–7.


                 LETTER—+No. 26, Mouth of Teton River+.

Sioux or (Dah-co-ta), p. 208.—Fort Pierre, pl. 85.—Mississippi
  and Missouri Sioux, p. 209.—Ha-wan-je-tah (chief), p. 211, pl.
  86.—Puncahs, Shoo-de-ga-cha (chief) and wife, p. 212, pls. 87,
  88.—Four wives taken at once, p. 213, pl. 90.—Portrait of one of the
  wives, p. 214, pl. 89.—Early marriages—Causes of, p. 215.


                 LETTER—+No. 27, Mouth of Teton River+.

Custom of exposing the aged, p. 216.—A tedious march on foot, p.
  218.—Level prairies—“Out of sight of land”—Mirage—Looming of the
  prairies, p. 218.—Turning the toes in—Bijou hills—Salt meadows,
  p. 219.—Arrive at Fort Pierre—Great assemblage of Sioux—Paint the
  portrait of the chief—Superstitious objections—Opposed by the
  doctors, p. 220.—Difficulty settled—Death of Ha-wan-je-tah (the
  chief)—Mode of, p. 221.—Portraits of other Sioux chiefs—Wampum,
  p. 222–3, pls. 91, 92.—Beautiful Sioux women—Daughter of Black
  Rock—Chardon, his Indian wife, p. 224–5, pls. 94, 95.


                 LETTER—+No. 28, Mouth of Teton River+.

Difficulty of painting Indian women, p. 226.—Indian vanity—Watching
  their portraits—Arrival of the first steamer amongst the Sioux, p.
  227.—Dog-feast, p. 228, pl. 96.


                 LETTER—+No. 29, Mouth of Teton River.+

Voluntary torture, “looking at the sun,” p. 232, pl. 97.—Religious
  ceremony, p. 233.—Smoking “k’nick-k’neck”—Pipes, p. 234. pl.
  98.—Calumets or pipes of peace, p. 235.—Tomahawks and scalping knives,
  p. 235–6, pl. 99.—Dance of the chiefs, p. 237, pl. 100.—Scalps—Mode
  of taking, and object, p. 238–9.—Modes of carrying and using the
  scalps, p. 240, pl. 101.


                 LETTER—+No. 30, Mouth of Teton River+.

Indian weapons and instruments of music, p. 241, pl.
  101½.—Quiver and shield—Smoking the shield, p. 241.—Tobacco
  pouches—Drums—Rattles—Whistles—Lutes, p. 242, pl. 101½.—Bear dance,
  p. 244, pl. 102.—Beggars’ dance—Scalp dance, p. 245, pls. 103, 104.


                 LETTER—+No. 31, Mouth of Teton River+.

Bisons (or buffaloes) description of, p. 247.—Habits of, p. 248.—Bulls’
  fighting—Buffalo wallows—Fairy circles, p. 249, pls. 105,
  106.—Running the buffaloes, and throwing the arrow, p. 251, pl.
  107.—Buffalo chase—Use of the laso, p. 253, pls. 108, 109.—Hunting
  under masque of white wolfskins, p. 254, pl. 110.—Horses destroyed
  in buffalo hunting, p. 255, pl. 111.—Buffalo calf—Mode of catching
  and bringing in, p. 255, pl. 112.—Immense and wanton destruction of
  buffaloes—1,400 killed, p. 256.—White wolves attacking buffaloes, p.
  257–8, pls. 113, 114.—Contemplations on the probable extinction of
  buffaloes and Indians, p. 258, 264.



[Illustration:

                              OUTLINE MAP
                                  _OF_
                           INDIAN LOCALITIES
                               _in 1833_.

                         In Vol. 2. see Map of
                          _LOCALITIES in 1840,
                       since all the tribes have
                     been removed from the States,
                         W. of the Mississippi_
]







                              LETTER—No. 1.


As the following pages have been hastily compiled, at the urgent
request of a number of my friends, from a series of Letters and Notes
written by myself during several years’ residence and travel amongst
a number of the wildest and most remote tribes of the North American
Indians, I have thought it best to make this page the beginning of my
book; dispensing with Preface, and even with Dedication, other than
that which I hereby make of it, with all my heart, to those who will
take the pains to read it.

If it be necessary to render any apology for beginning thus
unceremoniously my readers will understand that I had no space in
these, my first volumes, to throw away; nor much time at my disposal,
which I could, in justice, use for introducing myself and my works to
the world.

Having commenced thus abruptly then, I will venture to take upon myself
the sin of calling this one of the series of Letters of which I have
spoken; although I am writing it several years later, and placing it
at the beginning of my book; by which means I will be enabled briefly
to introduce myself to my readers (who, as yet, know little or nothing
of me), and also the subjects of the following epistles, with such
explanations of the customs described in them, as will serve for a
key or glossary to the same, and prepare the reader’s mind for the
information they contain.

Amidst the multiplicity of books which are, in this enlightened age,
flooding the world, I feel it my duty, as early as possible, to beg
pardon for making a book at all; and in the next (if my readers should
become so much interested in my narrations, as to censure me for the
brevity of the work) to take some considerable credit for not having
trespassed too long upon their time and patience.

Leaving my readers, therefore, to find out what is in the book, without
promising them anything, I proceed to say—of _myself_, that I was born
in Wyöming, in North America, some thirty or forty years since, of
parents who entered that beautiful and famed valley soon after the
close of the revolutionary war, and the disastrous event of the “Indian
massacre.”

The early part of my life was whiled away, apparently, somewhat
in vain, with books reluctantly held in one hand, and a rifle or
fishing-pole firmly and affectionately grasped in the other.

At the urgent request of my father, who was a practising lawyer,
I was prevailed upon to abandon these favourite themes, and also
my occasional dabblings with the brush, which had secured already
a corner in my affections; and I commenced reading the law for a
profession, under the direction of Reeve and Gould, of Connecticut.
I attended the lectures of these learned judges for two years—was
admitted to the bar—and practised the law, as a sort of _Nimrodical_
lawyer, in my native land, for the term of two or three years; when
I very deliberately sold my law library and all (save my rifle and
fishing-tackle), and converting their proceeds into brushes and paint
pots; I commenced the art of painting in Philadelphia, without teacher
or adviser.

I there closely applied my hand to the labours of the art for several
years; during which time my mind was continually reaching for some
branch or enterprise of the art, on which to devote a whole life-time
of enthusiasm; when a delegation of some ten or fifteen noble and
dignified-looking Indians, from the wilds of the “Far West,” suddenly
arrived in the city, arrayed and equipped in all their classic
beauty,—with shield and helmet,—with tunic and manteau,—tinted and
tasselled off, exactly for the painter’s palette!

In silent and stoic dignity, these lords of the forest strutted about
the city for a few days, wrapped in their pictured robes, with their
brows plumed with the quills of the war-eagle, attracting the gaze
and admiration of all who beheld them. After this, they took their
leave for Washington City, and I was left to reflect and regret, which
I did long and deeply, until I came to the following deductions and
conclusions.

Black and blue cloth and civilization are destined, not only to
veil, but to obliterate the grace and beauty of Nature. Man, in the
simplicity and loftiness of his nature, unrestrained and unfettered
by the disguises of art, is surely the most beautiful model for the
painter,—and the country from which he hails is unquestionably the best
study or school of the arts in the world: such I am sure, from the
models I have seen, is the wilderness of North America. And the history
and customs of such a people, preserved by pictorial illustrations,
are themes worthy the life-time of one man, and nothing short of the
loss of my life, shall prevent me from visiting their country, and of
becoming their historian.

There was something inexpressibly delightful in the above resolve,
which was to bring me amidst such living models for my brush: and at
the same time to place in my hands again, for my living and protection,
the objects of my heart above-named; which had long been laid by to
rust and decay in the city, without the remotest prospect of again
contributing to my amusement.

I had fully resolved—I opened my views to my friends and relations,
but got not one advocate or abettor. I tried fairly and faithfully,
but it was in vain to reason with those whose anxieties were ready to
fabricate every difficulty and danger that could be imagined, without
being able to understand or appreciate the extent or importance of
my designs, and I broke from them all,—from my wife and my aged
parents,—myself my only adviser and protector.

With these views firmly fixed—armed, equipped, and supplied, I started
out in the year 1832, and penetrated the vast and pathless wilds
which are familiarly denominated the great “Far West” of the North
American Continent, with a light heart, inspired with an enthusiastic
hope and reliance that I could meet and overcome all the hazards
and privations of a life devoted to the production of a literal and
graphic delineation of the living manners, customs, and character of an
interesting race of people, who are rapidly passing away from the face
of the earth—lending a hand to a dying nation, who have no historians
or biographers of their own to pourtray with fidelity their native
looks and history; thus snatching from a hasty oblivion what could be
saved for the benefit of posterity, and perpetuating it, as a fair and
just monument, to the memory of a truly lofty and noble race.

I have spent about eight years already in the pursuit above-named,
having been for the most of that time immersed in the Indian country,
mingling with red men, and identifying myself with them as much as
possible, in their games and amusements; in order the better to
familiarize myself with their superstitions and mysteries, which are
the keys to Indian life and character.

It was during the several years of my life just mentioned, and whilst I
was in familiar participation with them in their sports and amusements,
that I penned the following series of epistles; describing only such
glowing or curious scenes and events as passed under my immediate
observation; leaving their early history, and many of their traditions,
language, &c. for a subsequent and much more elaborate work, for which
I have procured the materials, and which I may eventually publish.

I set out on my arduous and perilous undertaking with the determination
of reaching, ultimately, every tribe of Indians on the Continent
of North America, and of bringing home faithful portraits of their
principal personages, both men and women, from each tribe; views of
their villages, games, &c. and full notes on their character and
history. I designed, also, to procure their costumes, and a complete
collection of their manufactures and weapons, and to perpetuate them in
a _Gallery unique_, for the use and instruction of future ages.

I claim whatever merit there may have been in the originality of such
a design, as I was undoubtedly the first artist who ever set out upon
such a work, designing to carry his canvass to the Rocky Mountains;
and a considerable part of the following Letters were written and
published in the New York Papers, as early as the years 1832 and 1833;
long before the Tours of Washington Irving, and several others, whose
interesting narratives are before the world.

I have, as yet, by no means visited _all_ the tribes; but I have
progressed a very great way with the enterprise, and with far greater
and more complete success than I expected.

I have visited forty-eight different tribes, the greater part of which
I found speaking different languages, and containing in all 400,000
souls. I have brought home safe, and in good order, 310 portraits in
oil, all painted in their native dress, and in their own wigwams;
and also 200 other paintings in oil, containing views of their
villages—their wigwams—their games and religious ceremonies—their
dances—their ball plays—their buffalo hunting, and other amusements
(containing in all, over 3000 full-length figures); and the landscapes
of the country they live in, as well as a very extensive and curious
collection of their costumes, and all their other manufactures, from
the size of a wigwam down to the size of a quill or a rattle.

A considerable part of the above-named paintings, and Indian
manufactures, will be found amongst the very numerous illustrations
in the following pages; having been, in every instance, faithfully
copied and reduced by my own hand, for the engraver, from my original
paintings; and the reader of this book who will take the pains to step
in to “+Catlin’s North American Indian Gallery+,” will find nearly
every scene and custom which is described in this work, as well as many
others, carefully and correctly delineated, and displayed upon the
walls, and every weapon (and every “Sachem” and every “Sagamore” who
has wielded them) according to the tenor of the tales herein recited.

So much of _myself_ and of my _works_, which is all that I wish to say
at present.

Of the +Indians+, I have much more to say, and to the following
delineations of them, and their character and customs, I shall make no
further apology for requesting the attention of my readers.

The Indians (as I shall call them), the savages or red men of the
forests and prairies of North America, are at this time a subject of
great interest and some importance to the civilized world; rendered
more particularly so in this age, from their relative position to, and
their rapid declension from, the civilized nations of the earth. A
numerous nation of human beings, whose origin is beyond the reach of
human investigation,—whose early history is lost—whose term of national
existence is nearly expired—three-fourths of whose country has fallen
into the possession of civilized man within the short space of 250
years—twelve millions of whose bodies have fattened the soil in the
mean time; who have fallen victims to whiskey, the small-pox, and the
bayonet; leaving at this time but a meagre proportion to live a short
time longer, in the certain apprehension of soon sharing a similar fate.

The writer who would undertake to embody the whole history of such a
people, with all their misfortunes and calamities, must needs have
much more space than I have allotted to this epitome; and he must
needs begin also (as I am doing) with those who are _living_, or he
would be very apt to dwell upon the preamble of his work, until the
present living remnants of the race should have passed away; and their
existence and customs, like those of ages gone bye, become subjects of
doubt and incredulity to the world for whom his book was preparing.
Such an historian also, to do them justice, must needs correct many
theories and opinions which have, either ignorantly or maliciously,
gone forth to the world in indelible characters; and gather and arrange
a vast deal which has been but imperfectly recorded, or placed to
the credit of a people who have not had the means of recording it
themselves; but have entrusted it, from necessity, to the honesty and
punctuality of their enemies.

In such an history should be embodied, also, a correct account of their
treatment, and the causes which have led to their rapid destruction;
and a plain and systematical prophecy as to the time and manner of
their final extinction, based upon the causes and the ratio of their
former and present declension.

So Herculean a task may fall to my lot at a future period, or it
may not: but I send forth these volumes at this time, fresh and
full of their living deeds and customs, as a familiar and unstudied
introduction (at least) to them and their native character; which I
confidently hope will repay the readers who read for information and
historical facts, as well as those who read but for amusement.

The world know generally, that the Indians of North America are
copper-coloured; that their eyes and their hair are black, &c.; that
they are mostly uncivilized, and consequently unchristianized; that
they are nevertheless human beings, with features, thoughts, reason,
and sympathies like our own; but few yet know how they _live_, how they
_dress_, how they _worship_, what are their actions, their customs,
their religion, their amusements, &c. as they practise them in the
uncivilized regions of their uninvaded country, which it is the main
object of this work, clearly and distinctly to set forth.

It would be impossible at the same time, in a book of these dimensions,
to explain _all_ the manners and customs of these people; but as far
as they are narrated, they have been described by my pen, upon the
spot, as I have seen them transacted; and if some few of my narrations
should seem a _little too highly coloured_, I trust the world will be
ready to extend to me that pardon which it is customary to yield to all
artists whose main faults exist in the vividness of their colouring,
rather than in the drawing of their pictures; but there is nothing else
in them, I think, that I should ask pardon for, even though some of
them should stagger credulity, and incur for me the censure of those
critics, who sometimes, unthinkingly or unmercifully, sit at home at
their desks, enjoying the luxury of wine and a good cigar, over the
simple narration of the honest and weather-worn traveller (who shortens
his half-starved life in catering for the world), to condemn him and
his work to oblivion, and his wife and his little children to poverty
and starvation; merely because he describes scenes which they have not
beheld, and which, consequently, they are unable to believe.

The Indians of North America, as I have before said, are
copper-coloured, with long black hair, black eyes, tall, straight, and
elastic forms—are less than two millions in number—were originally
the undisputed owners of the soil, and got their title to their lands
from the Great Spirit who created them on it,—were once a happy and
flourishing people, enjoying all the comforts and luxuries of life
which they knew of, and consequently cared for:—were sixteen millions
in numbers, and sent that number of daily prayers to the Almighty,
and thanks for his goodness and protection. Their country was entered
by white men, but a few hundred years since; and thirty millions of
these are now scuffling for the goods and luxuries of life, over
the bones and ashes of twelve millions of red men; six millions of
whom have fallen victims to the small-pox, and the remainder to the
sword, the bayonet, and whiskey; all of which means of their death and
destruction have been introduced and visited upon them by acquisitive
white men; and by white men, also, whose forefathers were welcomed
and embraced in the land where the poor Indian met and fed them with
“ears of green corn and with pemican.” Of the two millions remaining
alive at this time, about 1,400,000, are already the miserable living
victims and dupes of white man’s cupidity, degraded, discouraged and
lost in the bewildering maze that is produced by the use of whiskey and
its concomitant vices; and the remaining number are yet unroused and
unenticed from their wild haunts or their primitive modes, by the dread
or love of white man and his allurements.

It has been with these, mostly, that I have spent my time, and of
these, chiefly, and their customs, that the following Letters treat.
Their habits (and their’s alone) as we can see them transacted, are
native, and such as I have wished to fix and preserve for future ages.

Of the dead, and of those who are dying, of those who have suffered
death, and of those who are now trodden and kicked through it, I may
speak more fully in some deductions at the close of this book; or at
some future time, when I may find more leisure, and may be able to
speak of these scenes without giving offence to the world, or to any
body in it.

Such a portrait then as I have set forth in the following pages (taken
by myself from the free and vivid realities of life, instead of the
vague and uncertain imagery of recollection, or from the haggard
deformities and distortions of disease and death), I offer to the world
for their amusement, as well as for their information; and I trust they
will pardon me, if it should be thought that I have over-estimated the
Indian character, or at other times descended too much into the details
and minutiæ of Indian mysteries and absurdities.

The reader, then, to understand me rightly, and draw from these Letters
the information which they are intended to give, must follow me a vast
way from the civilized world; he must needs wend his way from the city
of New York, over the Alleghany, and far beyond the mighty Missouri,
and even to the base and summit of the Rocky Mountains, some two or
three thousand miles from the Atlantic coast. He should forget many
theories he has read in the books of Indian barbarities, of wanton
butcheries and murders; and divest himself, as far as possible of the
deadly prejudices which he has carried from his childhood, against this
most unfortunate and most abused part of the race of his fellow-man.

He should consider, that if he has seen the savages of North America
without making such a tour, he has fixed his eyes upon and drawn his
conclusions (in all probability) only from those who inhabit the
frontier; whose habits have been changed—whose pride has been cut
down—whose country has been ransacked—whose wives and daughters have
been shamefully abused—whose lands have been wrested from them—whose
limbs have become enervated and naked by the excessive use of
whiskey—whose friends and relations have been prematurely thrown into
their graves—whose native pride and dignity have at last given way to
the unnatural vices which civilized cupidity has engrafted upon them,
to be silently nurtured and magnified by a burning sense of injury and
injustice, and ready for that cruel vengeance which often falls from
the hand that is palsied by refined abuses, and yet unrestrained by the
glorious influences of refined and moral cultivation.—That if he has
laid up what he considers well-founded knowledge of these people, from
books which he has read, and from newspapers only, he should pause at
least, and withhold his sentence before he passes it upon the character
of a people, who are dying at the hands of their enemies, without the
means of recording their own annals—struggling in their nakedness with
their simple weapons, against guns and gunpowder—against whiskey and
steel, and disease, and mailed warriors who are continually trampling
them to the earth, and at last exultingly promulgating from the very
soil which they have wrested from the poor savage, the history of his
cruelties and barbarities, whilst his bones are quietly resting under
the very furrows which their ploughs are turning.

So great and unfortunate are the disparities between savage and civil,
in numbers—in weapons and defences—in enterprise, in craft, and in
education, that the former is almost universally the sufferer either in
peace or in war; and not less so after his pipe and his tomahawk have
retired to the grave with him, and his character is left to be entered
upon the pages of history, and that justice done to his memory which
from necessity, he has intrusted to his enemy.

Amongst the numerous historians, however, of these strange people, they
have had some friends who have done them justice; yet as a part of all
systems of justice whenever it is meted to the poor Indian, it comes
invariably too late, or is administered at an ineffectual distance; and
that too when his enemies are continually about him, and effectually
applying the means of his destruction.

Some writers, I have been grieved to see, have written down the
character of the North American Indian, as dark, relentless, cruel and
murderous in the last degree; with scarce a quality to stamp their
existence of a higher order than that of the brutes:—whilst others
have given them a high rank, as I feel myself authorized to do, as
honourable and highly-intellectual beings; and others, both friends and
foes to the red men, have spoken of them as an “anomaly in nature!”

In this place I have no time or inclination to reply to so
unaccountable an assertion as this; contenting myself with the belief,
that the term would be far more correctly applied to that part of the
human family who have strayed farthest from nature, than it could be to
those who are simply moving in, and filling the sphere for which they
were designed by the Great Spirit who made them.

From what I have seen of these people I feel authorized to say, that
there is nothing very strange or unaccountable in their character; but
that it is a simple one, and easy to be learned and understood, if the
right means be taken to familiarize ourselves with it. Although it has
its dark spots, yet there is much in it to be applauded, and much to
recommend it to the admiration of the enlightened world. And I trust
that the reader, who looks through these volumes with care, will be
disposed to join me in the conclusion that the North American Indian in
his native state, is an honest, hospitable, faithful, brave, warlike,
cruel, revengeful, relentless,—yet honourable, contemplative and
religious being.

If such be the case, I am sure there is enough in it to recommend it
to the fair perusal of the world, and charity enough in all civilized
countries, in this enlightened age, to extend a helping hand to a
dying race; provided that prejudice and fear can be removed, which
have heretofore constantly held the civilized portions in dread of the
savage—and away from that familiar and friendly embrace, in which alone
his true native character can be justly appreciated.

I am fully convinced, from a long familiarity with these people, that
the Indian’s misfortune has consisted chiefly in our ignorance of their
true native character and disposition, which has always held us at a
distrustful distance from them; inducing us to look upon them in no
other light than that of a hostile foe, and worthy only of that system
of continued warfare and abuse that has been for ever waged against
them.

There is no difficulty in approaching the Indian and getting acquainted
with him in his wild and unsophisticated state, and finding him an
honest and honourable man; with feelings to meet feelings, if the above
prejudice and dread can be laid aside, and any one will take the pains,
as I have done, to go and see him in the simplicity of his native
state, smoking his pipe under his own humble roof, with his wife and
children around him, and his faithful dogs and horses hanging about his
hospitable tenement.—So the world _may_ see him and smoke his friendly
pipe, which will be invariably extended to them; and share, with a
hearty welcome, the best that his wigwam affords for the appetite,
which is always set out to a stranger the next moment after he enters.

But so the mass of the world, most assuredly, will _not_ see these
people; for they are too far off, and approachable to those only whose
avarice or cupidity alone lead them to those remote regions, and whose
shame prevents them from publishing to the world the virtues which they
have thrown down and trampled under foot.

The very use of the word savage, as it is applied in its general sense,
I am inclined to believe is an abuse of the word, and the people to
whom it is applied. The word, in its true definition, means no more
than _wild_, or _wild man_; and a wild man may have been endowed by his
Maker with all the humane and noble traits that inhabit the heart of a
tame man. Our ignorance and dread or fear of these people, therefore,
have given a new definition to the adjective; and nearly the whole
civilized world apply the word _savage_, as expressive of the most
ferocious, cruel, and murderous character that can be described.

The grizzly bear is called savage, because he is blood-thirsty,
ravenous and cruel; and so is the tiger, and they, like the poor red
man, have been feared and dreaded (from the distance at which ignorance
and prejudice have kept us from them, or from resented abuses which we
have practised when we have come in close contact with them), until Van
Amburgh shewed the world, that even these ferocious and unreasoning
animals wanted only the friendship and close embrace of their master,
to respect and to love him.

As evidence of the hospitality of these ignorant and benighted people,
and also of their honesty and honour, there will be found recorded
many striking instances in the following pages. And also, as an offset
to these, many evidences of the dark and cruel, as well as ignorant
and disgusting excesses of passions, unrestrained by the salutary
influences of laws and Christianity.

I have roamed about from time to time during seven or eight years,
visiting and associating with some three or four hundred thousand of
these people, under an almost infinite variety of circumstances; and
from the very many and decided voluntary acts of their hospitality
and kindness, I feel bound to pronounce them, by nature, a kind and
hospitable people. I have been welcomed generally in their country,
and treated to the best that they could give me, without any charges
made for my board; they have often escorted me through their enemies’
country at some hazard to their own lives, and aided me in passing
mountains and rivers with my awkward baggage; and under all of these
circumstances of exposure, no Indian ever betrayed me, struck me a
blow, or stole from me a shilling’s worth of my property that I am
aware of.

This is saying a great deal, (and proving it too, if the reader will
believe me) in favour of the virtues of these people; when it is borne
in mind, as it should be, that there is no law in their land to punish
a man for theft—that locks and keys are not known in their country—that
the commandments have never been divulged amongst them; nor can any
human retribution fall upon the head of a thief, save the disgrace
which attaches as a stigma to his character, in the eyes of his people
about him.

And thus in these little communities, strange as it may seem, in the
absence of all systems of jurisprudence, I have often beheld peace
and happiness, and quiet, reigning supreme, for which even kings and
emperors might envy them. I have seen rights and virtue protected,
and wrongs redressed; and I have seen conjugal, filial and paternal
affection in the simplicity and contentedness of nature. I have
unavoidably, formed warm and enduring attachments to some of these
men which I do not wish to forget—who have brought me near to their
hearts, and in our final separation have embraced me in their arms, and
commended me and my affairs to the keeping of the Great Spirit.

For the above reasons, the reader will be disposed to forgive me for
dwelling so long and so strong on the justness of the claims of these
people; and for my occasional expressions of sadness, when my heart
bleeds for the fate that awaits the remainder of their unlucky race;
which is long to be outlived by the rocks, by the beasts, and even
birds and reptiles of the country they live in;—set upon by their
fellow-man, whose cupidity, it is feared, will fix no bounds to the
Indian’s earthly calamity, short of the grave.

I cannot help but repeat, before I close this Letter, that the tribes
of the red men of North America, as a nation of human beings, are on
their wane; that (to use their own very beautiful figure) “they are
fast travelling to the shades of their fathers, towards the setting
sun;” and that the traveller who would see these people in their native
simplicity and beauty, must needs be hastily on his way to the prairies
and Rocky Mountains, or he will see them only as they are now seen on
the frontiers, as a basket of _dead game_,—harassed, chased, bleeding
and dead; with their plumage and colours despoiled; to be gazed
amongst in vain for some system or moral, or for some scale by which
to estimate their true native character, other than that which has too
often recorded them but a dark and unintelligible mass of cruelty and
barbarity.

Without further comments I close this Letter, introducing my readers
at once to the heart of the Indian country, only asking their
forgiveness for having made it so long, and their patience whilst
travelling through the following pages (as I journeyed through those
remote realms) in search of information and rational amusement; in
tracing out the true character of that “_strange anomaly_” of man in
the simple elements of his nature, undissolved or compounded into the
mysteries of enlightened and fashionable life.


                             ————————————

                                 NOTE.

_As the singular manners of the Country set forth in the following
pages, and the extraordinary scenes represented in the very numerous
illustrations, are of such a character as to require all possible aids
for the satisfaction of the readers; I hope they will excuse me for
intruding in this place the numerous Certificates which follow, and
which have been voluntarily furnished me by men whose lives, it will
be seen, have been spent, in great part, in the Indian Country, and in
familiarity with the men and manners set forth in the work_:


                             CERTIFICATES.

“I hereby certify, that the persons whose signatures are affixed to the
certificates here below, by Mr. +Catlin+, are officers in the service
of the United States, as herein set forth; and that their opinions
of the accuracy of the likenesses, and correctness of the views, &c.
exhibited by him in his ‘+Indian Gallery+,’ are entitled to full credit.

                       “J. R. POINSETT, _Secretary of War, Washington_.”

                             ————————————

“With regard to the gentlemen whose names are affixed to certificates
below, I am fully warranted in saying, that no individuals have had
better opportunities of acquiring a knowledge of the persons, habits,
costumes, and sports of the Indian tribes, or possess stronger claims
upon the public confidence in the statements they make, respecting the
correctness of delineations, &c. of Mr. +Catlin’s Indian Gallery+; and
I may add my own testimony, with regard to many of those Indians whom
I have seen, and whose likenesses are in the collection, and sketched
with fidelity and correctness.

           “C. A. HARRIS, _Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Washington_.”

                             ————————————

“I have seen Mr. +Catlin’s+ Collection of Portraits of Indians,
east of the Rocky Mountains many of which were familiar to me, and
painted in my presence: and as far as they have included Indians of
my acquaintance, the _likenesses_ are easily recognized, bearing
the most striking resemblance to the originals, as well as faithful
representations of their costumes.

              “W. CLARK, _Superintendent of Indian Affairs, St. Louis_.”

                             ————————————

“I have examined Mr. +Catlin’s+ Collection of the Upper Missouri
Indians to the Rocky Mountains, all of which I am acquainted with;
and indeed most of them were painted when I was present, and I do
not hesitate to pronounce them correct likenesses, and readily to be
recognized. And I consider the _costumes_, as painted by him, to be the
_only correct representations_ I have ever seen.

                            “JOHN F. A. SANFORD,
               “_U. SS. Indian Agent for Mandans, Rickarees, Minatarees,
                    Crows, Knisteneaux, Assinneboins, Blackfeet, &c._”

                             ————————————

“We have seen Mr. +Catlin’s+ Portraits of Indians east of the Rocky
Mountains, many of which are familiar to us; the likenesses are easily
recognized, bearing a strong resemblance to the originals, as well as a
faithful representation of their costumes.

                                         “J. DOUGHERTY, _Indian Agent_.
  “_November 27th, 1837._                 J. GANTT.”

                             ————————————

“We hereby certify, that the Portraits of the Grand Pawnees, Republican
Pawnees, Pawnee Loups, Tappage Pawnees, Otoes, Omahaws, and Missouries,
which are in Mr. +Catlin’s Indian Gallery+, were painted from life by
Mr. +Geo. Catlin+, and that the individuals sat to him in the costumes
precisely in which they are painted.

                “J. DOUGHERTY, _I. A. for Pawnees, Omahaws, and Otoes_.
  “_New York, 1837._    J. GANTT.”

                             ————————————

“I have seen Mr. +Catlin’s+ Collection of Indian Portraits, many
of which were familiar to me, and painted in my presence at their
own villages. I have spent the greater part of my life amongst the
tribes and individuals he has represented, and I do not hesitate to
pronounce them correct likenesses, and easily recognized: also his
sketches of their _manners_ and _customs_, I think, are excellent; and
the _landscape views_ on the Missouri and Mississippi, are correct
representations.

              “K. M‘KENZIE, _of the Am. Fur Co. Mouth of Yellow Stone_.”

                             ————————————

“We hereby certify, that the Portraits of Seminoles and Euchees, in
Mr. +Catlin’s Gallery+, were painted by him, from the life, at Fort
Moultrie; that the Indians sat or stood in the costumes precisely in
which they are painted, and that the likenesses are remarkably good.

  “P. MORRISON, Capt. 4th Inft.          H. WHARTON, 2d. Lieut. 6th Inft.
   J. S. HATHAWAY, 2d Lieut. 1st Art.    F. WEEDON, Assistant Surgeon.
  _Fort Moultrie, Jan. 26, 1838._”

                             ————————————

“Having examined Mr. +Catlin’s+ Collection of Portraits of Indians
of the Missouri to the Rocky Mountains, I have no hesitation in
pronouncing them, so far as I am acquainted with the Individuals,
to be the best I have ever seen, both as regards the expression of
countenance, and the exact and complete manner in which the costume has
been painted by him.

                            “J. L. BEAN, _S. Agent for Indian Affairs_.”

                             ————————————

“I have been for many years past in familiar acquaintance with the
Indian tribes of the Upper Missouri to the Rocky Mountains, and also
with the landscape and other scenes represented in Mr. +Catlin’s+
Collection; and it gives me great pleasure to assure the world, that on
looking them over, I found the likenesses of my old friends easily to
be recognized; and his sketches of Manners and Customs to be pourtrayed
with singular truth and correctness.

                       “J. PILCHER, _Agent for Upper Missouri Indians_.”

                             ————————————

“It gives me great pleasure in being enabled to add my name to the list
of those who have spontaneously expressed their approbation of Mr.
+Catlin’s+ Collection of Indian Paintings. His Collection of materials
place it in his power to throw much light on the Indian character,
and his portraits, so far as I have seen them, are drawn with great
fidelity as to character and likeness.

               “H. SCHOOLCRAFT, _Indian Agent for Wisconsin Territory_.”

“Having lived and dealt with the Black Feet Indians for five years
past, I was enabled to recognize _every one_ of the Portraits of
those people, and of the Crows also, which Mr. +Catlin+ has in his
Collection, from the faithful likenesses they bore to the originals.

  “_St. Louis, 1835._ “J. E. BRAZEAU.”

                             ————————————

“Having spent sixteen years in the continual acquaintance with the
Indians of the several tribes of the Missouri, represented in Mr.
+Catlin’s+ Gallery of Indian Paintings, I was enabled to judge of the
correctness of the likenesses, and I _instantly recognized every one of
them_, when I looked them over, from the striking resemblance they bore
to the originals—so also, of the Landscapes on the Missouri.

                                                       “HONORE PICOTTE.”

                             ————————————

“The Portraits, in the possession of Mr. +Catlin+, of Pawnee Picts,
Kioways, Camanches, Wecos, and Osages, were painted by him _from life_,
when on a tour to their country, with the United States Dragoons. The
_likenesses_ are good, very easily to be recognized, and the _costumes_
faithfully represented.

  “HENRY DODGE, Col. of Drag.        D. PERKINS. Capt. of Drag.
   R. H. MASON, Major of Ditto.      M. DUNCAN,     Ditto.
   D. HUNTER, Capt.      Ditto.      T. B. WHEELOCK, Lieut. Drag.”

                             ————————————

“The Landscapes, Buffalo-Hunting scenes, &c. above-mentioned, I have
seen, and although it has been thirty years since I travelled over that
country; yet a considerable number of them I recognized as faithful
representations, and the remainder of them are so much in the peculiar
character of that country as to seem entirely familiar to me.

                        “WM. CLARK, _Superintendent of Indian Affairs_.”

                             ————————————

“The Landscape Views on the Missouri, Buffalo Hunts, and other scenes,
taken by my friend Mr. +Catlin+, are correct delineations of the scenes
they profess to represent, as I am perfectly well acquainted with the
country, having passed through it more than a dozen times. And further,
I know, that they were taken on the spot, from nature, as I was present
when Mr. +Catlin+ visited that country.

                            “JOHN F. A. SANFORD, _U. SS. Indian Agent_.”

                             ————————————

“It gives me great pleasure to be able to pronounce the Landscape
Views, Views of Hunting, and other scenes, taken on the Upper Missouri
by Mr. +Catlin+, to be correct delineations of the scenery they profess
to represent; and although I was not present when they were taken in
the field, I was able to identify almost every one between St. Louis
and the grand bend of the Missouri.

                             “J. L. BEAN, _S. Agent of Indian Affairs_.”

                             ————————————

“I have examined a series of paintings by Mr. +Catlin+, representing
_Indian Buffalo Hunts, Landscapes, &c._, and from an acquaintance
of twenty-seven years with such scenes as are represented, I feel
qualified to judge them, and do unhesitatingly pronounce them good and
unexaggerated representations.

      “JNO. DOUGHERTY, _Indian Agent for Pawnees, Omahaws, and Otoes_.”




                             LETTER—No. 2.

             MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_, 1832.


I arrived at this place yesterday in the steamer “Yellow Stone,”
after a voyage of nearly three months from St. Louis, a distance of
two thousand miles, the greater part of which has never before been
navigated by steam; and the almost insurmountable difficulties which
continually oppose the _voyageur_ on this turbid stream, have been
by degrees overcome by the indefatigable zeal of Mr. Chouteau, a
gentleman of great perseverance, and part proprietor of the boat. To
the politeness of this gentleman I am indebted for my passage from St.
Louis to this place, and I had also the pleasure of his _company_, with
that of Major Sanford, the government agent for the Missouri Indians.

The American Fur Company have erected here, for their protection
against the savages, a very substantial Fort, 300 feet square, with
bastions armed with ordnance (+plate+ 3); and our approach to it under
the continued roar of cannon for half an hour, and the shrill yells of
the half-affrighted savages who lined the shores, presented a scene
of the most thrilling and picturesque appearance. A voyage so full of
incident, and furnishing so many novel scenes of the picturesque and
romantic, as we have passed the numerous villages of the “astonished
natives,” saluting them with the puffing of steam and the thunder of
artillery, would afford subject for many epistles; and I cannot deny
myself the pleasure of occasionally giving you some little sketches of
scenes that I have witnessed, and _am witnessing_; and of the singular
feelings that are excited in the breast of the stranger travelling
through this interesting country. Interesting (as I have said) and
_luxurious_, for this is truly the land of Epicures; we are invited by
the savages to feasts of _dog’s meat_, as the most honourable food that
can be presented to a stranger, and glutted with the more delicious
food of beavers’ tails, and buffaloes’ tongues. You will, no doubt, be
somewhat surprised on the receipt of a Letter from me, so far strayed
into the Western World; and still more startled, when I tell you that I
am here in the full enthusiasm and practice of my art. That enthusiasm
alone has brought me into this remote region, 3500 miles from my native
soil; the last 2000 of which have furnished me with almost unlimited
models, both in landscape and the human figure, exactly suited to
my feelings. I am now in the full possession and enjoyments of
those conditions, on which alone I was induced to pursue the art as a
profession; 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 are associates together; yet
am I surrounded by living models of such elegance and beauty, that I
feel an unceasing excitement of a much higher order—the certainty that
I am drawing knowledge from the true source. My enthusiastic admiration
of man in the honest and elegant simplicity of nature, has 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 arts.

[Illustration: 3]

[Illustration: 4]

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 I 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 infuriated
buffaloes; or their splendid procession in a war-parade, arrayed in all
their gorgeous colours and trappings, moving with most exquisite grace
and manly beauty, added to that bold defiance which man carries on his
front, who acknowledges no superior on earth, and who is amenable to no
laws except the laws of God and honour.

In addition to the knowledge of human nature and of my art, which I
hope to acquire by this toilsome and expensive undertaking, I have
another in view, which, if it should not be of equal service to me,
will be of no less interest and value to posterity. I have, for many
years past, contemplated the noble races of red men who are now spread
over these trackless forests and boundless prairies, melting away
at the approach of civilization. Their rights invaded, their morals
corrupted, their lands wrested from them, their customs changed, and
therefore lost to the world; and they at last sunk into the earth,
and the ploughshare turning the sod over their graves, and I have
flown to their rescue—not of their lives or of their race (for they
are “_doomed_” and must perish), but to the rescue of their looks and
their modes, at which the acquisitive world may hurl their poison and
every besom of destruction, and trample them down and crush them to
death; yet, phœnix-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 simple 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 manners
and customs, rites, ceremonies, &c.; and the opportunity of examining
the geology and mineralogy of this western, and yet unexplored
country, will enable me occasionally to entertain you with much new
and interesting information, which I shall take equal pleasure in
communicating by an occasional Letter in my clumsy way.




                             LETTER—No. 3.

                MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Since the date of my former Letter, I have been so much engaged in
the amusements of the country, and the use of my brush, 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 2000 miles, the Missouri, with its boiling,
turbid 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 or coffee, with sugar and cream stirred
into it. To give a better definition of its density and opacity, I
have tried a number of simple experiments with it at this place, and
at other points below, at the results of which I was exceedingly
surprised. By placing a piece of silver (and afterwards a piece of
shell, which is a much whiter substance) in a tumbler of its water,
and looking through the side of the glass, I ascertained that those
substances could not be seen through the eighth part of an inch; this,
however, is in the spring of the year, when the freshet is upon the
river, rendering the water, undoubtedly, much more turbid than it would
be at other seasons; though it is always muddy and yellow, and from its
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 1000 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 falling banks and cast into the stream;
their roots becoming fastened in the 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, and when the river is flooded, its surface is almost
literally covered with floating raft and drift wood which bid positive
defiance to keel-boats and steamers, on their way up the river.

With what propriety this “Hell of waters” might he 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 filthy abyss below; into which they are ready to
plunge headlong, when the mud and soil in which they were germed and
reared have been washed out from underneath them, and with the rolling
current are mixed, and on their way to the ocean.

The greater part of the shores of this river, however, are without
timber, where the eye is delightfully relieved by wandering over the
beautiful prairies; most of the way gracefully sloping down to the
water’s edge, carpeted with the deepest green, and, in distance,
softening into velvet of the richest hues, entirely beyond the reach
of the artist’s pencil. Such is the character of the upper part of the
river especially; and as one advances towards its source, and through
its upper half, it becomes more pleasing to the eye, for snags and raft
are no longer to be seen; yet the current holds its stiff and onward
turbid character.

It has been, heretofore, very erroneously represented to the world,
that the scenery on this river was monotonous, and wanting in
picturesque beauty. This intelligence is surely incorrect, and that
because it has been brought perhaps, by men who are not the best
judges in the world, of Nature’s beautiful works; and if they were,
they always pass them by, in pain or desperate distress, in toil and
trembling fear for the safety of their furs and peltries, or for their
lives, which are at the mercy of the yelling savages who inhabit this
delightful country.

One thousand miles or more of the upper part of the river, was, to
my eye, like fairy-land; and during our transit through that part of
our voyage, 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 the greatest advantage
possible, to leave the sight and sound of the puffing of our boat;
which was, for the first time, saluting the green and wild shores of
the Missouri with the din of mighty steam.

From St. Louis to the falls of the Missouri, a distance of 2600 miles,
is one continued prairie; with the exception of a few of the bottoms
formed along the bank of the river, and the streams which are falling
into it, which are often covered with the most luxuriant growth of
forest timber.

The summit level of the great prairies stretching off to the west and
the east from the river, to an almost boundless extent, is from two to
three hundred feet above the level of the river; which has formed a bed
or valley for its course, varying in width from two to twenty miles.
This channel or valley has been evidently produced by the force of the
current, which has gradually excavated, in its floods and gorges, this
immense space, and sent its débris into the ocean. By the continual
overflowing of the river, its deposits have been lodged and left with a
horizontal surface, spreading the deepest and richest alluvion over the
surface of its meadows on either side; through which the river winds
its serpentine course, alternately running from one bluff to the other,
which present themselves to its shores in all the most picturesque
and beautiful shapes and colours imaginable—some with their green
sides gracefully slope down in the most lovely groups to the water’s
edge (+plate+ 5); whilst others, divested of their verdure, present
themselves in immense masses of clay of different colours, which arrest
the eye of the traveller, with the most curious views in the world.

These strange and picturesque appearances have been produced by the
rains and frosts, which are continually changing the dimensions, and
varying the thousand shapes of these denuded hills, by washing down
their sides and carrying them into the river.

Amongst these groups may be seen tens and hundreds of thousands of
different forms and figures, of the sublime and the picturesque; in
many places for miles together, as the boat glides along, there is
one continued appearance, before and behind us, of some ancient and
boundless city in ruins—ramparts, terraces, domes, towers, citadels and
castles may be seen,—cupolas, and magnificent porticos, and here and
there a solitary column and crumbling pedestal, and even spires of clay
which stand alone—and glistening in distance, as the sun’s rays are
refracted back by the thousand crystals of gypsum which are imbedded in
the clay of which they are formed (+plate+ 6). Over and through these
groups of domes and battlements (as one is compelled to imagine them),
the sun sends his long and gilding rays, at morn or in the evening;
giving life and light, by aid of shadows cast, to the different glowing
colours of these clay-built ruins; shedding a glory over the solitude
of this wild and pictured country, which no one can realize unless he
travels here and looks upon it.

It is amidst these wild and quiet haunts that the mountain-sheep, and
the fleet-bounding antelope sport and live in herds, secure from their
enemies, to whom the sides and slopes of these bluffs (around which
they fearlessly bound) are nearly inaccessible.

The grizzly bear also has chosen these places for his abode; he
sullenly sneaks through the gulphs and chasms, and ravines, and frowns
away the lurking Indian; whilst the mountain-sheep and antelope are
bounding over and around the hill tops, safe and free from harm of man
and beast.

Such is a hasty sketch of the river scenes and scenery for 2000 miles,
over which we tugged, and puffed, and blowed, and toiled for three
months, before we reached this place. Since we arrived here, the
steamer has returned and left me here to explore the country and visit
the tribes in this vicinity, and then descend the river from this place
to St. Louis; which Tour, if I live through it, will furnish material
for many a story and curious incident, which I may give you in detail
in future epistles, and when I have more leisure than I have at the
present moment. I will then undertake to tell how we astonished the
natives, in many an instance, which I can in this Letter but just
hint at and say adieu. If anything did ever literally and completely
“astonish (and astound) the natives,” it was the appearance of our
steamer, puffing and blowing, and paddling and rushing by their
villages which were on the banks of the river.

These poor and ignorant people for the distance of 2000 miles, had
never before seen or heard of a steam-boat, and in some places they
seemed at a loss to know what to do, or how to act; they could not,
as the Dutch did at Newburgh, on the Hudson River, take it to be a
“_floating saw-mill_”—and they had no name for it—so it was, like
every thing else (with them), which is mysterious and unaccountable,
called _medicine_ (mystery). We had on board one twelve-pound cannon
and three or four eight-pound swivels, which we were taking up to
arm the Fur Company’s Fort at the mouth of Yellow Stone, and at the
approach to every village they were all discharged several times in
rapid succession, which threw the inhabitants into utter confusion and
amazement—some of them laid their faces to the ground, and cried to
the Great Spirit—some shot their horses and dogs, and sacrificed them
to appease the Great Spirit, whom they conceived was offended—some
deserted their villages and ran to the tops of the bluffs some miles
distant; and others, in some places, as the boat landed in front of
their villages, came with great caution, and peeped over the bank of
the river to see the fate of their chiefs whose duty it was (from the
nature of their office) to approach us, whether friends or foes, and
to go on board. Sometimes, in this plight, they were instantly thrown
‘neck and heels’ over each other’s heads and shoulders—men, women
and children, and dogs—sage, sachem, old and young—all in a mass, at
the frightful discharge of the steam from the escape-pipe, which the
captain of the boat let loose upon them for his own fun and amusement.

There were many curious conjectures amongst their wise men, with regard
to the nature and powers of the steam-boat. Amongst the Mandans, some
called it the “big thunder canoe;” for when in distance below the
village, they saw the lightning flash from its sides, and heard the
thunder come from it; others called it the “big medicine canoe with
eyes;” it was _medicine_ (mystery) because they could not understand
it; and it must have eyes, for said they, “it sees its own way, and
takes the deep water in the middle of the channel.”

[Illustration: 5]

[Illustration: 6]

They had no idea of the boat being steered by the man at the wheel, and
well they might have been astonished at its taking the deepest water. I
may (if I do not forget it) hereafter give you an account of some other
curious incidents of this kind, which we met with in this voyage; for
we met many, and some of them were really laughable.

The Fort in which I am residing was built by Mr. M‘Kenzie, who now
occupies it. It is the largest and best-built establishment of the kind
on the river, being the great or principal head-quarters and depôt
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 inmates and its stores well protected from Indian
assaults.

Mr. M‘Kenzie is a kind-hearted and high-minded Scotchman; and seems to
have charge of all the Fur Companies’ business in this region, and from
this to the Rocky Mountains. He lives in good and comfortable style,
inside of the Fort, which contains some eight or ten log-houses and
stores, and has generally forty or fifty men, and one hundred and fifty
horses about him.

He has, 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_ coffee, _sans_ bread and butter. Good cheer and
good living we get at it however, and good wine also; for a bottle of
Madeira and one of excellent Port are set in a pail of ice every day,
and exhausted at dinner.

At 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 gives him the stamp of a gentleman, who
has had the curiosity to bring the embellishments of the enlightened
world, to contrast with the rude and the wild of these remote regions.

We three _bons vivants_ 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 I 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 with my brush; we have around us at this
time the Knisteneaux, Crows, Assinneboins and Blackfeet, and in a few
days are to have large accessions.

The finest specimens of Indians on the Continent are in these regions;
and before I leave these parts, I shall make excursions into their
respective countries, 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 further and minute accounts.




                             LETTER—No. 4.

                         MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE.


The several tribes of Indians inhabiting the regions of the Upper
Missouri, and of whom I spoke in my last Letter, are undoubtedly the
finest looking, best equipped, and most beautifully costumed of any on
the Continent. They live in a country well-stocked with buffaloes and
wild horses, which furnish them an excellent and easy living; their
atmosphere is pure, which produces good health and long life; and they
are the most independent and the happiest races of Indians I have met
with: they are all entirely in a state of primitive 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 their dress and manners, and enjoying life to the
greatest perfection. Of such tribes, perhaps the Crows and Blackfeet
stand first; and no one would be able to appreciate the richness and
elegance (and even taste too), with which some of these people dress,
without seeing them in their own country. I will do all I can, however,
to make their looks as well as customs known to the world; I will paint
with my brush and scribble with my pen, and bring their plumes and
plumage, dresses, weapons, &c., and every thing but the Indian himself,
to prove to the world the assertions which I have made above.

Every one of these red sons of the forest (or rather of the prairie)
is a knight and lord—his squaws are his slaves; the only things which
he deems worthy of his exertions are to mount his snorting steed, with
his bow and quiver slung, his arrow-shield upon his arm, and his long
lance glistening in the war-parade; or, divested of all his plumes and
trappings, armed with a simple bow and quiver, to plunge his steed
amongst the flying herds of buffaloes, and with his sinewy bow, which
he seldom bends in vain, to drive deep to life’s fountain the whizzing
arrow.

The buffalo herds, which graze in almost countless numbers on these
beautiful prairies, afford them an abundance of meat; and so much is
it preferred to all other, that the deer, the elk, and the antelope
sport upon the prairies in herds in the greatest security; as the
Indians seldom kill them, unless they want their skins for a dress.
The buffalo (or more correctly speaking bison) is a noble animal,
that roams over the vast prairies, from the borders of Mexico on 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 which is easily
procured, furnishes the savages of these vast regions the means of a
wholesome and good subsistence, and they live almost exclusively upon
it—converting the skins, horns, hoofs and bones, to the construction
of dresses, shields, bows, &c. The buffalo bull is one of the most
formidable and frightful looking animals in the world when excited to
resistance; his long shaggy mane hangs in great profusion over his neck
and shoulders and often extends quite down to the ground (+plate+ 7).
The cow is less in stature, and less ferocious; though not much less
wild and frightful in her appearance (+plate+ 8).

The mode in which these Indians kill this noble animal is spirited and
thrilling 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 this western land. He has within his Fort a spacious
ice-house, in which he preserves his meat fresh for any length of time
required; and sometimes, when his larder runs low. he starts out,
rallying some five or six of his best hunters (not to hunt, but to “go
for meat”). He leads the party, mounted on his favourite buffalo horse
(_i. e._ the horse amongst his whole group which is best trained to run
the buffalo), trailing a light and short gun in his hand, such an one
as he can most easily reload whilst his horse is at full speed.

Such was the condition of the ice-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, and then Mons. Chardon, and Ba’tiste Défonde and
Tullock (who is a trader amongst the Crows, and is here at this time,
with a large party of that tribe), and there were several others whose
names I do not know.

[Illustration: 7]

[Illustration: 8]

As we were mounted and ready to start, M‘Kenzie called up some four
or five of his men, and told them to follow immediately on our trail,
with as many one-horse carts, which they were to harness up, 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 a plenty on that spot, and
we are going there as fast as possible.” We all crossed the river,
and galloped away a couple of miles or so, when we mounted the bluff;
and to be sure, 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
their own estimation (probably) perfectly secure. Some were grazing,
and others were lying down and sleeping; we advanced within a mile or
so of them in full view, and came to a halt. Mons. Chardon “tossed
the feather” (a custom always observed, to try the course of the
wind), and we commenced “stripping” as it is termed (_i. e._ every
man strips himself and his horse of every extraneous and unnecessary
appendage of dress, &c. that might be an incumbrance in running): hats
are laid off, and coats—and bullet pouches; sleeves are rolled up,
a handkerchief tied tightly around the head, and another around the
waist—cartridges are prepared and placed in the waistcoat pocket, or
a half dozen bullets “throwed into the mouth,” &c., &c., all of which
takes up some ten or fifteen minutes, and is not, in appearance or in
effect, unlike a council of war. Our leader lays the whole plan of the
chase, and preliminaries all fixed, guns charged and ramrods in our
hands, we mount and start for the onset. The horses are all trained for
this business, and seem to enter into it with as much enthusiasm, and
with as restless a spirit as the riders themselves. While “stripping”
and mounting, they exhibit the most restless impatience; and when
“approaching”—(which is, all of us abreast, upon a slow walk, and
in a straight line towards the herd, until they discover us and
run), they all seem to have caught entirely the spirit of the chase,
for the laziest nag amongst them prances with an elasticity in his
step—champing his bit—his ears erect—his eyes strained out of his head,
and fixed upon the game before him, whilst he trembles under the saddle
of his rider. In this way we carefully and silently marched, until
within some forty or fifty rods; when the herd discovering us, wheeled
and laid their course in a mass. At this instant we started! (and
all _must_ start, for no one could check the fury of those steeds at
that moment of excitement,) and away all sailed, and over the prairie
flew, in a cloud of dust which was raised by their trampling hoofs.
M‘Kenzie was foremost in the throng, and soon dashed off amidst the
dust and was out of sight—he was after the fattest and the fastest. I
had discovered a huge bull whose shoulders 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 thundering mass, as they swept away over the
plain, scarcely able to tell whether I was on a buffalo’s back or my
horse—hit, and hooked, and jostled about, till at length I found myself
alongside of my game, when I gave him a shot, as I passed him. I saw
guns flash in several directions about me, but I heard them not. Amidst
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 his 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—hic——hic———hic————hic—————hic——————no,——hic———no——no, I believe
not. Oh! this is not much, Mons. Cataline—this is nothing new—but this
is a d——d hard piece of ground here—hic—oh! hic!” At this the poor
fellow fainted, but in a few moments arose, picked up his gun, took his
horse by the bit; which then opened _its_ eyes, and with a _hic_ and a
_ugh_—+UGHK+! sprang upon its feet—shook off the dirt—and here we were,
all upon our legs again, save the bull, whose fate had been more sad
than that of either.

I turned my eyes in the direction where the herd had gone, and
our companions in pursuit, and nothing could be seen of them, nor
indication, except the cloud of dust which they left behind them.
At a little distance on the 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 seemed to
know perfectly well that he could not escape from me, and resolved to
meet his enemy and death as bravely as possible.

I found that my shot had entered him a little too far forward, breaking
one of his shoulders, and lodging in his breast, and from his very
great weight it was impossible for him to make much advance upon me.
As I rode up within a few paces of him, he would bristle up with fury
enough in his _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 vengeance, which was sublime for a picture, but
which he could not vent upon me. I rode around him and sketched him
in numerous attitudes, sometimes he would lie down, and I would then
sketch him; then throw my cap at him, and rousing him on his legs,
rally a new expression, and sketch him again.

[Illustration: 9]

[Illustration: 10]

In this way I added to my sketch-book some invaluable sketches of
this grim-visaged monster, who knew not that he was standing for his
likeness.

No man on earth can imagine what is the look and expression of such a
subject before him as this was. I defy the world to produce another
animal than can look so frightful as a huge buffalo bull, when wounded
as he was, turned around for battle, and swelling with rage;—his eyes
bloodshot, and his long shaggy mane hanging to the ground,—his mouth
open, and his horrid rage hissing in streams of smoke and blood from
his mouth and through his nostrils, as he is bending forward to spring
upon his assailant.

After I had had the requisite time and opportunity for using my pencil,
M‘Kenzie and his companions came walking their exhausted horses back
from the chase, and in our rear came four or five carts to carry home
the meat. The party met from all quarters around me and my buffalo
bull, whom I then shot in the head and finished. And being seated
together for a few minutes, each one took a smoke of the pipe, and
recited his exploits, and his “coups” or deaths; when all parties had
a hearty laugh at me, as a novice, for having aimed at an old bull,
whose flesh was not suitable for food, and the carts were escorted on
the trail, to bring away the meat. I rode back 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 killed at full
speed, and every one shot through the heart. In the short space of time
required for a horse under “full whip,” to run the distance of one
mile, he had discharged his gun five, and loaded it four times—selected
his animals, and 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 carcasses left a prey for the wolves.

Such is the mode by which white men live in this country—such the way
in which they get their food, and such is one of their delightful
amusements—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.

From 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 he 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 which each and either
had fought and run on former occasions. M‘Kenzie, with all the true
character and dignity of a leader, was silent on these subjects; but
smiled, while those in his train were reciting for him the astonishing
and almost incredible deeds of his sinewy arms, which they had
witnessed in similar scenes; from which 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 have flourished in these
regions, in 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’tiste Défonde, Chardon,
&c., retired to their quarters, enlarging smoothly upon the events
of our morning’s work; which they were reciting to their wives and
sweethearts; when about this time the gate of the Fort was thrown open,
and the procession of carts and packhorses laden with buffalo meat made
its entrée; gladdening the hearts 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, and I being
fatigued, went to sleep.

[Illustration: 11]




                             LETTER—No. 5.

                MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


In my former epistle I told you there were encamped about the Fort
a host of wild, incongruous spirits—chiefs and sachems—warriors,
braves, and women and children of different tribes—of Crows and
Blackfeet—Ojibbeways—Assinneboins—and Crees or Knisteneaux. Amongst
and in the midst of them am I, with my paint pots and canvass, snugly
ensconced in one of the bastions of the Fort, which I occupy as a
painting-room. My easel stands before me, and the cool breech of a
twelve-pounder makes me a comfortable seat, whilst her muzzle is
looking out at one of the port-holes. The operations of my brush are
_mysteries_ of the highest order to these red sons of the prairie, and
my room the earliest and latest place of concentration of these wild
and jealous spirits, who all meet here to be amused and pay me signal
honours; but gaze upon each other, sending their sidelong looks of
deep-rooted hatred and revenge around the group. However, whilst in the
Fort, their weapons are placed within the arsenal, and naught but looks
and thoughts can be breathed here; but death and grim destruction will
visit back those looks upon each other, when these wild spirits again
are loose and free to breathe and act upon the plains.

I have this day been painting a portrait of the head chief of the
Blackfoot nation; he is a good-looking and dignified Indian, about
fifty years of age, and superbly dressed (+plate+ 11); whilst sitting
for his picture he has been surrounded by his own braves and warriors,
and also gazed at by his enemies, the Crows and the Knisteneaux,
Assinneboins and Ojibbeways; a number of distinguished personages of
each of which tribes, have laid all day around the sides of my room;
reciting to each other the battles they have fought, and pointing to
the scalp-locks, worn as proofs of their victories, 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 their
lives; peaceably and calmly recounting over the deeds of their lives,
and smoking their pipes upon it, when a few weeks or days will bring
them on the plains again, where the war-cry will be raised, and their
deadly bows will again be drawn on each other.

The name of this dignitary, of whom I have just spoken, is
Stu-mick-o-sucks (the buffalo’s back fat), _i. e._ the “hump” or
“fleece,” the most delicious part of the buffalo’s flesh. I have
also painted, of the Blackfeet, Pe-toh-pee-kiss (the eagle ribs),
and Mix-ke-mote-skin-na (the 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; though 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 with their
modes, as belonging to such or such a tribe. The dress, for instance of
the chief whom I have just mentioned, and whose portrait I have just
painted, consists of a shirt or tunic, made of two deer skins finely
dressed, and so placed together with the necks of the skins downwards,
and the skins of the hind legs stitched together, the seams running
down on each arm, from the neck to the knuckles of the hand; this
seam is covered with a band of two inches in width, of very beautiful
embroidery of porcupine quills, and suspended from the under edge of
this, from the shoulders to the hands, is a fringe of the locks of
black hair, which he has taken from the heads of victims slain by his
own hand in battle. The leggings are made also of the same material;
and down the outer side of the leg, from the hip to the feet, extends
also a similar band or belt of the same width; and wrought in the same
manner, with porcupine quills, and fringed with scalp locks. These
locks of hair are procured from scalps, and worn as trophies.

The wife (or squaw) of this dignitary Eeh-nis-kin (the crystal stone),
I have also placed upon my canvass (+plate+ 13); her countenance is
rather pleasing, which is an uncommon thing amongst the Blackfeet—her
dress is made of skins, and being the youngest of a bevy of six or
eight, and the last one taken under his guardianship, was smiled upon
with great satisfaction, 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 of age, and too young as yet to
have acquired a name, has stood forth like a tried warrior; and I
have painted him at full length (+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 becomes hereditary
chief of the tribe. This boy has been twice stolen away by the Crows
by ingenious stratagems, and twice re-captured by the Blackfeet, at
considerable sacrifice of life, and at present he is lodged with Mr.
M‘Kenzie, for safe keeping and protection, until he shall arrive at the
proper age to take the office to which he is to succeed, and able to
protect himself.

[Illustration: 13]

[Illustration: 12]

The scalp of which I spoke above, is procured by cutting out a piece
of the skin of the head, the size of the palm of the hand or less,
containing the very centre or crown of the head, the place where the
hair radiates from a point, and exactly over what the phrenologists
call self-esteem. This patch then is kept and dried with great care, as
proof positive of the death of an enemy, and evidence of a man’s claims
as a warrior; and after having been formally “danced,” as the saying
is, (_i. e._ after it has been stuck up upon a pole or held up by an
“old woman,” and the warriors have danced around it for two or three
weeks at intervals,) it is fastened to the handle of a lance, or the
end of a war-club, or divided into a great many small locks and used
to fringe and ornament the victor’s dress. When these dresses are seen
bearing such trophies, it is of course a difficult matter to purchase
them of the Indian, for they often hold them above all price. I shall
hereafter take occasion to speak of the scalp-dance; describing it in
all its parts, and giving a long Letter, at the same time on scalps
and scalping, an interesting and general custom amongst all the North
American Indians.

In the chief’s dress, which I am describing, there are his moccasins,
made also of buckskin, and ornamented in a corresponding manner. And
over all, his robe, made of the skin of a young buffalo bull, with
the hair remaining on; and on the inner or flesh side, beautifully
garnished with porcupine quills, and the battles of his life very
ingeniously, though rudely, pourtrayed in pictorial representations.
In his hand he holds a very beautiful pipe, the stem of which is four
or five feet long, and two inches wide, curiously wound with braids
of the porcupine quills of various colours; and the bowl of the pipe
ingeniously carved by himself from a piece of red steatite of an
interesting character, and which they all tell me is procured somewhere
between this place and the Falls of St. Anthony, on the head waters of
the Mississippi.

This curious stone has many peculiar qualities, and has, undoubtedly,
but one origin in this country, and perhaps in the world. It is found
but in the hands of the savage, and every tribe, and nearly every
individual in the tribe has his pipe made of it. I consider this stone
a subject of great interest, and curiosity to the world; and I shall
most assuredly make it a point, during my Indian rambles, to visit the
place from whence it is brought. I have already got a number of most
remarkable traditions and stories relating to the “sacred quarry;”
of pilgrimages performed there to procure the stone, and of curious
transactions that have taken place on that ground. It seems, from all
I can learn, that all the tribes in these regions, and also of the
Mississippi and the Lakes, have been in the habit of going to that
place, and meeting their enemies there, whom they are obliged to treat
as friends, under an injunction of the Great Spirit.

So then is this sachem (the buffalo’s back fat) dressed; and in a
very similar manner, and almost the same, is each of the others above
named; and all are armed with bow and quiver, lance and shield. These
north-western tribes are all armed with the bow and lance, and
protected with the 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 on their horses’ backs, and they wield these weapons with
desperate effect upon the open plains; where they kill their game
while at full speed, and contend in like manner in battles with their
enemy. There is one prevailing custom in these respects, amongst all
the tribes who inhabit the great plains or prairies of these western
regions. These plains afford them an abundance of wild and fleet
horses, which are easily procured; and on their backs at full speed,
they can come alongside of any animal, which they easily destroy.

The bow with which they are armed is small, and apparently an
insignificant weapon, though one of great and almost incredible power
in the hands of its owner, whose sinews have been from childhood
habituated to its use and service. The length of these bows is
generally about three feet, and sometimes not more than two and a half
(+plate+ 18 _a_). They have, no doubt, studied to get the requisite
power in the smallest compass possible, as it is more easily and
handily used on horseback than one of greater length. The greater
number of these bows are made of ash, or of “bois d’arc” (as the
French call it), and lined on the back with layers of buffalo or
deer’s sinews, which are inseparably attached to them, and give them
great elasticity. There are very many also (amongst the Blackfeet
and the Crows) which are made of bone, and others of the horn of the
mountain-sheep. Those made of bone are decidedly the most valuable, and
cannot in this country be procured of a good quality short of the price
of one or two horses. About these there is a mystery yet to be solved,
and I advance my opinion against all theories that I have heard in the
country where they are used and made. I have procured several very fine
specimens, and when purchasing them have inquired of the Indians, what
bone they were made of? and in every instance, the answer was, “That’s
medicine,” meaning that it was a mystery to them, or that they did not
wish to be questioned about them. The bone of which they are made is
certainly not the bone of any animal now grazing on the prairies, or
in the mountains between this place and the Pacific Ocean; for some
of these bows are three feet in length, of a solid piece of bone, and
that as close-grained—as hard—as white, and as highly polished as
any ivory; it cannot, therefore be made from the elks’ horn (as some
have supposed), which is of a dark colour and porous: nor can it come
from the buffalo. It is my opinion, therefore, that the Indians on
the Pacific coast procure the bone from the jaw of the sperm whale,
which is often stranded on that coast, and bringing the bone into the
mountains, trade it to the Blackfeet and Crows, who manufacture it into
these bows without knowing any more than we do, from what source it has
been procured.

[Illustration: 14]

One of these little bows in the hands of an Indian, on a fleet and
well-trained horse, with a quiver of arrows slung on his back, is a
most effective and powerful weapon in the open plains. No one can
easily credit the force with which these missiles are thrown, and the
sanguinary effects produced by their wounds, until he has rode by
the side of a party of Indians in chase of a herd of buffaloes, and
witnessed the apparent ease and grace with which their supple arms have
drawn the bow, and seen these huge animals tumbling down and gushing
out their hearts’ blood from their mouths and nostrils.

Their bows are often made of bone and sinews, and their arrows headed
with flints or with bones, of their own construction (+plate+ 18, _c_),
or with steel, as they are now chiefly furnished by the Fur Traders
quite to the Rocky Mountains (+plate+ 18, _d_). The quiver, which is
uniformly carried on the back, and made of the panther or otter skins
(+plate+ 18, _e_) is a magazine of these deadly weapons, and generally
contains two varieties. The one to be drawn upon an enemy, generally
poisoned, and with long flukes or barbs, which are designed to hang the
blade in the wound after the shaft is withdrawn, in which they are but
slightly glued;—the other to be used for their game, with the blade
firmly fastened to the shaft, and the flukes inverted; that it may
easily be drawn from the wound, and used on a future occasion.

Such is the training of men and horses in this country, that this work
of death and slaughter is simple and easy. The horse is trained to
approach the animals on the _right_ side, enabling its rider to throw
his arrows to the left; it runs and approaches without the use of the
halter, which is hanging loose upon its neck bringing the rider within
three or four paces of the animal, when the arrow is thrown with great
ease and certainty to the heart; and instances sometimes occur, where
the arrow passes entirely through the animal’s body.

An Indian, therefore, mounted on a fleet and well-trained horse, with
his bow in his hand, and his quiver slung on his back, containing an
hundred arrows, of which he can throw fifteen or twenty in a minute, is
a formidable and dangerous enemy. Many of them also ride with a lance
of twelve or fourteen feet in length (+plate+ 18, _b_), with a blade
of polished steel; and all of them (as a protection for their vital
parts), with a shield or arrow-fender made of the skin of the buffalo’s
neck, which has been smoked, and hardened with glue extracted from the
hoofs (+plate+ 18). These shields are arrow-proof, and will glance off
a rifle shot with perfect effect by being turned obliquely, which they
do with great skill.

This shield or arrow-fender is, in my opinion, made of similar
materials, and used in the same way, and for the same purpose, as was
the clypeus or small shield in the Roman and Grecian cavalry. They were
made in those days as a means of defence on horseback only—made small
and light, of bull’s hides; sometimes single, sometimes double and
tripled. Such was Hector’s shield, and of most of the Homeric heroes of
the Greek and Trojan wars. In those days also were darts or javelins
and lances; the same were also used by the Ancient Britons; and such
exactly are now in use amongst the Arabs and the North American Indians.

In this wise then, are all of these wild red knights of the prairie,
armed and equipped,—and while nothing can possibly be more picturesque
and thrilling than a troop or war-party of these fellows, galloping
over these green and endless prairies; there can be no set of mounted
men of equal numbers, so effective and so invincible in this country
as they would be, could they be inspired with confidence of their own
powers and their own superiority; yet this never can be done;—for the
Indian, as far as the name of white man has travelled, and long before
he has to try his strength with him, is trembling with fright and fear
of his approach; he hears of white man’s arts and artifice—his tricks
and cunning, and his hundred instruments of death and destruction—he
dreads his approach, shrinks from him with fear and trembling—his
heart sickens, and his pride and courage wither, at the thoughts of
contending with an enemy, whom he thinks may war and destroy with
weapons of _medicine_ or mystery.

Of the Blackfeet, whom I mentioned in the beginning of this Letter, and
whose portraits are now standing in my room, there is another of whom
I must say a few words; Pe-toh-pee-kiss, the eagle ribs (+plate+ 14).
This man is one of the extraordinary men of the Blackfoot tribe; though
not a chief, he stands here in the Fort, and deliberately boasts of
eight scalps, which he says he has taken from the heads of trappers and
traders with his own hand. His dress is really superb, almost literally
covered with scalp-locks, of savage and civil.

I have painted him at full length, with a head-dress made entirely
of ermine skins and horns of the buffalo. This custom of wearing
horns beautifully polished and surmounting the head-dress, is a very
curious one, being worn only by the bravest of the brave; by the most
extraordinary men in the nation. Of their importance and meaning, I
shall say more in a future epistle. When he stood for his picture, he
also held a lance and two “medicine-bags” in his hand; of lances I have
spoken,—but “medicine-bags” and “medicine” will be the text for my next
Letter.

Besides the chiefs and warriors above-named, I have also transferred
to my canvass the “looks and very resemblance” of an aged chief,
who combines with his high office, the envied title of mystery or
medicine-man, _i. e._ doctor—magician—prophet—soothsayer—jongleur—and
high priest, all combined in one person, who necessarily is looked
upon as “Sir Oracle” of the nation. The name of this distinguished
functionary is Wun-nes-tou, the white buffalo (+plate+ 15); and on
his left arm he presents his mystery-drum or tambour, in which are
concealed the hidden and sacred mysteries of his healing art.

And there is also In-ne-o-cose, the iron-horn (+plate+ 16), at full
length, in a splendid dress, with his “medicine-bag” in his hand;
and Ah-kay-ee-pix-en, the woman who strikes many (+plate+ 17), in a
beautiful dress of the mountain-goats’ skin, and her robe of the young
buffalo’s hide.

[Illustration: 15]

[Illustration: 17]

[Illustration: 16]




                             LETTER—No. 6.

                MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Now for medicines or mysteries—for doctors, high-priests, for hocus
pocus, witchcraft, and animal magnetism!

In the last Letter I spoke of Pe-toh-pee-kiss (the eagle ribs), a
Blackfoot brave, whose portrait I had just painted at full length, in
a splendid dress. I mentioned also, that he held two medicine-bags in
his hand; as they are represented in the picture; both of them made of
the skins of otters, and curiously ornamented with ermine, and other
strange things.

I must needs stop here—my painting and every thing else, until I can
explain the word “_medicine_,” and “_medicine-bag_;” and also some
_medicine operations_, which 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 superstitions.

The word medicine, in its common acceptation here, means _mystery_, and
nothing else; and in that sense I _shall_ use it very frequently in my
Notes on Indian Manners and Customs.

The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their
language, a doctor or physician, is called “_Medecin_.” The Indian
country 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 habitually 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 comprehensive meaning—as there were many personages
amongst them, and also amongst the white men who visit the country,
who could deal in mysteries, though not skilled in the application of
drugs and medicines; and they all range now, under the comprehensive
and accommodating phrase of “medicine-men.” For instance, I am a
“medicine-man” of the highest order amongst these superstitious
people, on account of the art which I practice; which is a strange and
unaccountable thing to them, and of course, called the greatest of
“medicine.” My gun and pistols, which have percussion-locks, are great
medicine; and no Indian can be prevailed on to fire them off, for they
say they have nothing to do with white man’s medicine.

The Indians do not use the word medicine, however; but in each tribe
they have a word of their own construction, synonimous with mystery or
mystery-man.

The “medicine-bag” then, is a mystery-bag; and its meaning and
importance necessary to be understood, as it may be said to be the
key to Indian life and Indian character. These bags are constructed
of the skins of animals, of birds, or of reptiles, and ornamented and
preserved in a thousand different ways, as suits the taste or freak of
the person who constructs them. These skins are generally attached to
some part of the clothing of the Indian, or carried in his hand—they
are oftentimes decorated in such a manner as to be exceedingly
ornamental to his person, and always are stuffed with grass, or moss,
or something of the kind; and generally without drugs or medicines
within them, as they are religiously closed and sealed, and seldom, if
ever, to be opened. I find that every Indian in his primitive state,
carries his medicine-bag in some form or other, to which he pays the
greatest homage, and to which he looks for safety and protection
through life—and in fact, it might almost be called a species of
idolatry; for it would seem in some instances, as if he actually
worshipped it. Feasts are often made, and dogs and horses sacrificed,
to a man’s medicine; and days, and even weeks, of fasting and penance
of various kinds are often suffered, to appease his medicine, which he
imagines he has in some way offended.

This curious custom has principally been done away with along the
frontier, where white men laugh at the Indian for the observance of so
ridiculous and useless a form; but in this country it is in full force,
and every male in the tribe carries this, his supernatural charm or
guardian, to which he looks for the preservation of his life, in battle
or in other danger; at which times it would be considered ominous of
bad luck and an ill fate to be without it.

The manner in which this curious and important article is instituted
is this: a boy, at the age of fourteen or fifteen years, is said to
be making or “forming his medicine,” when he wanders away from his
father’s lodge, and absents himself for the space of two or three, and
sometimes even four or five, days; lying on the ground in some remote
or secluded spot, crying to the Great Spirit, and fasting the whole
time. During this period of peril and abstinence, when he falls asleep,
the first animal, bird, or reptile, of which he dreams (or pretends to
have dreamed, perhaps), he considers the Great Spirit has designated
for his mysterious protector through life. He then returns home to his
father’s lodge, and relates his success; and after allaying his thirst,
and satiating his appetite, he sallies forth with weapons or traps,
until he can procure the animal or bird, the skin of which he preserves
entire, and ornaments it according to his own fancy, and carries
it with him through life, for “good luck” (as he calls it); as his
strength in battle—and in death his guardian _Spirit_, that is buried
with him, and which is to conduct him safe to the beautiful hunting
grounds, which he contemplates in the world to come.

The value of the medicine-bag to the Indian is beyond all price; for
to sell it, or give it away, would subject him to such signal disgrace
in his tribe, that 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 to it for his 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
sells or gives it away; his enemy carries it off and displays it to his
own people as a trophy; whilst the loser is cut short of the respect
that is due to other young men of his tribe, and for ever subjected
to the degrading epithet of “a man without medicine,” or “he who has
lost his medicine,” until he can replace it again; which can only be
done, by rushing into battle and plundering one from an enemy whom he
slays with his own hand. This done, his medicine is restored, and he
is reinstated again in the 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 once in his life; and equally singular that he can
reinstate himself by the adoption of the medicine of his enemy; both
of which regulations are strong and violent inducements for him to
fight bravely in battle: the first, that he may protect and preserve
his medicine; and the second, in case he has been so unlucky as to
lose it, that he may restore it, and his reputation also, while he is
desperately contending for the protection of his community.

During my travels thus far, I have been unable to buy a medicine-bag of
an Indian, although I have offered them extravagant prices for them;
and even on the frontier, where they have been induced to abandon the
practice, though a white man may induce an Indian to relinquish his
medicine, yet he 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, _g_), are sometimes made of the skin of an otter, a
beaver, a musk-rat, a weazel, a racoon, a pole-cat, 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 dress, and very difficult to be found, even if
searched for.

Such then is the medicine-bag—such its meaning and importance; and when
its owner dies, it is placed in his grave and decays with his body.

In the case of the portrait of which I spoke in the beginning
of this Letter, there are seen two medicine-bags in the hand of
Pe-toh-pee-kiss; the one was of his own instituting, and the other was
taken from his enemy, whom he had slain in battle; both of these he has
a right to display and boast of on such an occasion. This is but the
beginning or incipient stage of “medicines,” however, in this strange
and superstitious country; and if you have patience, I will carry you
a few degrees further into the mysteries of conjuration, 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 days 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 Knisteneaux came here from the north,
for the purpose of making their summer’s trade with the Fur Company;
and, whilst here, a party of Blackfeet, their natural enemies (the
same who are here now), came from the west, also to trade. These two
belligerent tribes encamped on different sides of the Fort, and had
spent some weeks here in the Fort and about it, in apparently good
feeling and fellowship; unable in fact to act otherwise, for, according
to a regulation of the Fort their arms and weapons were all locked up
by M‘Kenzie in his “arsenal,” for the purpose of preserving the peace
amongst these fighting-cocks.

The Knisteneaux had completed their trade, and loitered about the
premises, until all, both Indians and white men, were getting tired of
their company, wishing them quietly off. When they were ready to start,
with their goods packed upon their backs, their arms were given them,
and they started; bidding everybody, both friends and foes, a hearty
farewell. They went out of the Fort, and though the party gradually
moved off, one of them undiscovered, loitered about the Fort, until he
got an opportunity to poke the muzzle of his gun through between the
piquets; when he fired it at one of the chiefs of the Blackfeet, who
stood within a few paces, talking with Mr. M‘Kenzie, and shot him with
two musket bullets through the centre of his body! The Blackfoot fell,
and rolled about upon the ground in the agonies of death. The Blackfeet
who were in the Fort seized their weapons and ran in a mass out of the
Fort, in pursuit of the Knisteneaux, who were rapidly retreating to the
bluffs. The Frenchmen in the Fort, also, at so flagrant and cowardly
an insult, seized their guns and ran out, joining the Blackfeet in
the pursuit. I, at that moment, ran to my painting-room in one of the
bastions overlooking the plain, where I had a fair view of the affair;
many shots were exchanged back and forward, and a skirmish ensued
which lasted half an hour; the parties, however, were so far apart
that little effect was produced; the Knisteneaux were driven off over
the bluffs, having lost one man and had several others wounded. The
Blackfeet and Frenchmen returned into the Fort, and then, I saw what
I never before saw in my life—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 was lying on the ground in the agonies
of death, and no one could indulge the slightest hope of his recovery;
yet the _medicine-man_ must needs be called (for such a personage they
had in their party), and hocus pocus applied to the dying man, as the
dernier resort, when all drugs and all specifics were useless, and
after all possibility of recovery was extinct!

[Illustration: 18]

I have mentioned that all tribes have their physicians, who are also
medicine (or mystery) men. These professional gentlemen are worthies
of the highest order in all tribes. They are regularly called and paid
as physicians, to prescribe for the sick; and many of them acquire
great skill in the medicinal world, and gain much celebrity in their
nation. Their first prescriptions are roots and herbs, of which they
have a great variety of species; and when these have all failed, their
last resort is to “_medicine_” or mystery; and for this purpose,
each one of them has a strange and unaccountable dress, conjured up
and constructed during a life-time of practice, in the wildest fancy
imaginable, in which he arrays himself, and makes his last visit to
his dying patient,—dancing over him, shaking his frightful rattles,
and singing songs of incantation, in hopes to cure him by a charm.
There are some instances, of course, where the exhausted patient
unaccountably recovers, under the application of these absurd forms;
and in such cases, this ingenious son of _Indian_ Esculapius will be
seen for several days after, on the top of a wigwam, with his right arm
extended and waving over the gaping multitude, to whom he is vaunting
forth, without modesty, the surprising skill he has acquired in his
art, and the undoubted efficacy of his medicine or mystery. But if, on
the contrary, the patient dies, he soon changes his dress, and joins in
doleful lamentations with the mourners; and easily, with his craft, and
the ignorance and superstition of his people, protects his reputation
and maintains his influence over them; by assuring them, that it was
the will of the Great Spirit that his patient should die, and when sent
for, his feeble efforts must cease.

Such was the case, and such the extraordinary means resorted to in
the instance I am now relating. Several hundred spectators, including
Indians and traders, were assembled around the dying man, when it was
announced that the “_medicine-man_” was coming; we were required to
“form a ring,” leaving a space of some thirty or forty feet in diameter
around the dying man, in which the doctor could perform his wonderful
operations; and a space was also opened to allow him free room to pass
through the crowd without touching any one. This being done, in a
few moments his arrival was announced by the death-like “hush——sh——”
through the crowd; and nothing was to be heard, save the light and
casual tinkling of the rattles upon his dress, which was scarcely
perceptible to the ear, as he cautiously and slowly moved through the
avenue left for him; which at length brought him into the ring, in view
of the pitiable object over whom his mysteries were to be performed.

Readers! you may have seen or read of the witch of Endor—or you may
imagine all the ghosts, and spirits, and furies, that ever ranked
amongst 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 the 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 swells, the grunts, and spring the rattles
of an Indian magician.

His entrée and his garb were somewhat thus:—he approached the ring
with his body in a crouching position (+plate+ 19), with a slow and
tilting step—his body and head were entirely covered with the skin of
a yellow bear, the head of which (his own head being inside of it)
served as a mask; the huge claws of which also, were dangling on his
wrists and ancles; in one hand he shook a frightful rattle, and in the
other brandished his medicine-spear or magic wand; to the rattling din
and discord of all of which, he added the wild and startling jumps
and yelps of the Indian, and the horrid and appalling grunts, and
snarls, and growls of the grizzly bear, in ejaculatory and guttural
incantations to the Good and Bad Spirits, in behalf of his patient; who
was rolling and groaning in the agonies of death, whilst he was dancing
around him, jumping over him, and pawing him about, and rolling him in
every direction.

In this wise, this strange operation proceeded for half an hour, to the
surprise of a numerous and death-like silent audience, until the man
died; and the medicine-man danced off to his quarters, and packed up,
and tied and secured from the sight of the world, his mystery dress and
equipments.

This dress, in all its parts, is one of the greatest curiosities in the
whole collection of Indian manufactures which I 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 medicine use), 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 and 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 manœuvres, 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 for their skill in their “materia medica;” but more
especially for their tact in magic and mysteries, in which they all
deal to a very great extent. I shall have much more to say of these
characters and their doings in future epistles, and barely observe in
the present place, that no tribe is without them;—that in all tribes
their doctors are conjurors—are magicians—are sooth-sayers, and I had
like to have said, high-priests, inasmuch as they superintend and
conduct all their religious ceremonies;—they are looked upon by all
as oracles of the nation. In all councils of war and peace, they have
a seat with the chiefs—are regularly consulted before any public step
is taken, and the greatest deference and respect is paid to their
opinions.

[Illustration: 19]




                             LETTER—No. 7.

                MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


The Letter which I gave you yesterday, on the subject of “medicines”
and “medicine-men,” has somewhat broken the “thread of my discourse;”
and left my painting-room (in the bastion), and all the Indians in it,
and portraits, and buffalo hunts, and landscapes of these beautiful
regions, to be taken up and discussed; which I will now endeavour to
do, beginning just where I left (or digressed) off.

I was seated on the cool breech of a twelve-pounder, and had my easel
before me, and Crows and Blackfeet, and Assinneboins, whom I was
tracing upon the canvass. And so I have been doing to-day, and shall
be for several days to come. My painting-room has become so great a
lounge, and I so great a “medicine-man,” that all other amusements are
left, and all other topics of conversation and gossip are postponed
for future consideration. The chiefs have had to place “soldiers”
(as they are called) at my door, with spears in hand to protect me
from the throng, who otherwise would press upon me; and none but the
worthies are allowed to come into my medicine apartments, and none to
be painted, except such as are decided by the chiefs to be worthy of so
high an honour.

The Crows and Blackfeet who are here together, are enemies of the
most deadly kind while out on the plains; but here they sit and smoke
quietly together, yet with a studied and dignified reserve.

The Blackfeet are, perhaps, one of the most (if not entirely the most)
numerous and warlike tribes on the Continent. They occupy the whole of
the country about the sources of the Missouri, from this place to the
Rocky Mountains; and their numbers, from the best computations, are
something like forty or fifty thousand—they are (like all other tribes
whose numbers are sufficiently large to give them boldness) warlike and
ferocious, _i. e._ they are predatory, are roaming fearlessly about the
country, even into and through every part of the Rocky Mountains, and
carrying war amongst their enemies, who are, of course, every tribe who
inhabit the country about them.

The Crows who live on the head waters of Yellow Stone, and extend from
this neighbourhood also to the base of the Rocky Mountains, are similar
in the above respects to the Blackfeet; roaming about a great part of
the year—and seeking their enemies wherever they can find them.

They are a much smaller tribe than the Blackfeet, with whom they are
always at war, and from whose great numbers they suffer prodigiously
in battle; and probably will be in a few years entirely destroyed by
them.

[Illustration: 20]

The Crows have not, perhaps, more than 7000 in their nation, and
probably not more than eight hundred warriors or fighting men. Amongst
the more powerful tribes, like the Sioux and Blackfeet, who have been
enabled to preserve their warriors, it is a fair calculation to count
one in five as warriors; but among the Crows and Minatarees, and
Puncahs, and several other small but warlike tribes, this proportion
cannot exist; as in some of these I have found two or three women to
a man in the nation; in consequence of the continual losses sustained
amongst their men in war, and also whilst pursuing the buffaloes on the
plains for food, where their lives are exceedingly exposed.

The Blackfeet and the Crows, like the Sioux and Assinneboins, have
nearly the same mode of constructing their wigwam or lodge; in which
tribes it is made of buffalo skins sewed together, after being dressed,
and made into the form of a tent; supported within by some twenty
or thirty pine poles of twenty-five feet in height, with an apex or
aperture at the top, through which the smoke escapes and the light
is admitted. These lodges, or tents, are taken down in a few minutes
by the squaws, when they wish to change their location, and easily
transported to any part of the country where they wish to encamp;
and they generally move some six or eight times in the course of the
summer; following the immense herds of buffaloes, as they range over
these vast plains, from east to west, and north to south. The objects
for which they do this are two-fold,—to procure and dress their skins,
which are brought in, in the fall and winter, and sold to the Fur
Company, for white man’s luxury; and also for the purpose of killing
and drying buffalo meat (+plate+ 22), which they bring in from their
hunts, packed on their horses’ backs, in great quantities; making
pemican, and preserving the marrow-fat for their winter quarters; which
are generally taken up in some heavy-timbered bottom, on the banks of
some stream, deep imbedded within the surrounding bluffs, which break
off the winds, and make their long and tedious winter tolerable and
supportable. They then sometimes erect their skin lodges amongst the
timber, and dwell in them during the winter months; but more frequently
cut logs and make a miserable and rude sort of log cabin, in which they
can live much warmer and better protected from the assaults of their
enemies, in case they are attacked; in which case a log cabin is a
tolerable fort against Indian weapons.

The Crows, of all the tribes in this region, or on the Continent,
make the most beautiful lodge. As I have before mentioned, they
construct them as the Sioux do, and make them of the same material;
yet they oftentimes dress the skins of which they are composed almost
as white as linen, and beautifully garnish them with porcupine
quills, and paint and ornament them in such a variety of ways, as
renders them exceedingly picturesque and agreeable to the eye. I have
procured a very beautiful one of this description (+plate+ 20),
highly-ornamented, and fringed with scalp-locks, and sufficiently large
for forty 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 I can ever succeed in transporting it to New York and other
eastern cities, it will be looked upon as a beautiful and exceedingly
interesting specimen.

The manner in which an encampment of Indians strike their tents and
transport them is curious, and to the traveller in this country a very
novel and unexpected sight, when he first beholds it. Whilst ascending
the river to this place, I saw an encampment of Sioux, consisting of
six hundred of these lodges, struck, and all things packed and on the
move in a very few minutes. The chief sends his runners or criers (for
such all chiefs keep in their employment) through the village, a few
hours before they are to start; announcing his determination to move,
and the hour fixed upon, and the necessary preparations are in the
meantime making; and at the time 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 they had a vast number, had all been secured upon the spot, in
readiness; and each one was speedily loaded with the burthen allotted
to it, and ready to fall into the grand procession.

For this strange cavalcade, preparation is made in the following
manner: the poles of a lodge are divided into two bunches, and the
little ends of each bunch fastened upon the shoulders or withers of a
horse, leaving the butt ends to drag behind on the ground on either
side. Just behind the horse, a brace or pole is tied across, which
keeps the poles in their respective places; and then upon that and
the poles behind the horse, is placed the lodge or tent, which is
rolled up, and also numerous other articles of household and domestic
furniture, and on the top of all, two, three, and even (sometimes) four
women and children! Each one of these horses has a conductress, who
sometimes walks before and leads it, with a tremendous pack upon her
own back; and at others she sits astride of its back, with a child,
perhaps, at her breast, and another astride of the horse’s back behind
her, clinging to her waist with one arm, while it affectionately
embraces a sneaking dog-pup in the other.

In this way five or six hundred wigwams, with all their furniture
(+plate+ 21), may be seen drawn out for miles, creeping over the
grass-covered plains of this country; and three times that number of
men, on good horses, strolling along in front or on the flank; and, in
some tribes, in the rear of this heterogeneous caravan, at least five
times that number of dogs, which fall into the rank, and follow in
the train and company of the women, and every cur of them, who is large
enough, and not too cunning to be enslaved, is encumbered with a car or
sled (or whatever it may be better called), on which he patiently drags
his load—a part of the 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
him; on which is placed a bundle or wallet which 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.”

[Illustration: 21]

[Illustration: 22]

The Crows, like the Blackfeet, are beautifully costumed, and perhaps
with somewhat more of taste and elegance; inasmuch as the skins of
which their dresses 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-dressing. 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 far 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 skins, 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
buffalo 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
operation afterwards, which gives them a greater value, and renders
them much more serviceable—that is, the process of smoking. For this,
a small hole is dug in the ground, and a fire is built in it with
rotten wood, which will produce 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 fastened 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; within this the skins
to be smoked are placed, and in this condition the tent will stand a
day or so, enclosing the heated smoke; and by 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 seen
practiced 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, which stands in the rains, and
even through the severity of winter, is taken down as soft and as clean
as when it was first put up.

A Crow is known wherever he is met by his beautiful white dress, and
his tall and elegant figure; the greater part of the men being six
feet 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 the skins of which their dresses are made, are chiefly
dressed black, or of a dark brown colour; from which circumstance, in
all probability, 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 the first acquaintance
made with them, very civil and friendly.

These people to be sure, have in some instances plundered and robbed
trappers and travellers in their country; and for that I have sometimes
heard them called rascals and thieves, and rogues of the first order,
&c.; yet they do not consider themselves such; for thieving in their
estimation is a high crime, and considered the most disgraceful act
that a man can possibly do. They call this _capturing_, where they
sometimes run off a Trader’s horses, and make their boast of it;
considering it a kind of retaliation or summary justice, which they
think it right and 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 furs
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 you my honour they are the last of all
the human family to pilfer or to steal, if you trust to their honour;
and for this never-ending and boundless system of theft and plunder,
and debauchery, that is practiced off upon these rightful owners of
the soil, by acquisitive white men, I consider the infliction, or
retaliation, by driving off and appropriating a few horses, but a
lenient punishment, which those persons at least should expect; and
which, in fact, none but a very honourable and high-minded people
could inflict, instead of a much severer one; which they could easily
practice upon the few white men in their country, without rendering
themselves amenable to any law.

Mr. M‘Kenzie has 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 finest Indians of his acquaintance.

I recollect whilst in St. Louis, and other places at the East, to have
heard it often said, that the Crows were a rascally and thieving set of
vagabonds, highway robbers, &c. &c.; and I have been told since, that
this information has become current in the world, from the fact that
they made some depredations upon the camp of Messrs. Crooks and Hunt of
the Fur Company; and drove off a number of their horses, when they were
passing through the Crow country, on their way to Astoria. This was no
doubt true; and equally true, would 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, arrowheads, &c.; and stopped for some time and encamped in the
midst of the Crow country (and I think wintered there), when the Crows
assembled in large numbers about them, and treated them in a kind and
friendly manner; and at the same time proposed to trade with them for
guns and ammunition, &c. (according to these gentlemen’s own account,)
of which they were in great want, and for which they brought a great
many horses, and offered them repeatedly in trade; which they refused
to take, persisting in their determination of carrying their goods
to their destined place, across the mountains; thereby disappointing
these Indians, by denying them the arms and weapons which were in
their possession, whilst they were living upon them, and exhausting
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 they were going to
take them farther west; which they would at once suppose was to the
Blackfeet, their principal enemy, having eight or ten warriors to one
of the Crows; where they supposed the white men could get a greater
price for their weapons, and arm their enemies in such a way as would
enable them to turn upon the Crows, and cut them to pieces without
mercy. Under these circumstances, the Crows rode off, and to show their
indignation, drove off some of the Company’s horses, for which they
have ever since been denominated a band of thieves and highway robbers.
It is a custom, and a part of the system of jurisprudence amongst all
savages, to revenge upon the person or persons who give the offence,
if they can; and if not, to let that punishment 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 have conversed often and much with Messrs. Sublette and Campbell,
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 proud, 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.




                             LETTER—No. 8.

                MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Since my last Letter, nothing of great moment has transpired at this
place; but I have 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 of these have cultivated their
natural hair to such an almost incredible length, that it sweeps the
ground as they walk; there are frequent instances of this kind amongst
them, and in some cases, a foot or more of it will drag on the grass
as they walk, giving exceeding grace and beauty to their movements.
They usually 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 equal
profusion without producing the same results. The Mandans, however, and
the Sioux, of whom I shall speak in future epistles, have cultivated
a very great growth of the hair, as many of them are seen whose hair
reaches near to the ground.

This extraordinary length of hair amongst the Crows is confined to the
men alone; for the women, though all of them with glossy and beautiful
hair, and a great profusion of it, are unable to cultivate it to so
great a length; or else they are not allowed to compete with their
lords in a fashion so ornamental (and on which the men so highly pride
themselves), and are obliged in many cases 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 told me they had lived in his hospitable
lodge for months together; and assured me that they had measured his
hair by a correct means, and found it to be ten feet and seven inches
in length; closely inspecting every part of it at the same time, and
satisfying themselves that it was the natural growth.

On ordinary occasions it is wound with a broad leather strap, from his
head to its extreme end, and then folded up into a budget or block, of
some 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 lengths of hair, by fastening them with glue; probably
for the purpose of imitating the Crows, upon whom alone Nature has
bestowed this conspicuous and signal ornament.

Amongst the Crows of distinction now at this place, I have painted the
portraits of several, who exhibit some striking peculiarities. Amongst
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 as a man can well spare of so valued an ornament, which he
has been for the greater part of his life cultivating; whilst a woman
who mourns for a husband or child, is obliged to crop her hair short to
her head, and so remain till it grows out again; ceasing gradually to
mourn as her hair approaches to its former length.

Duhk-pits-a-ho-shee, the red bear (+plate+ 26), a distinguished
warrior; and Oo-je-en-a-he-ha, the woman who lives in the bear’s den
(+plate+ 25). I have also painted Pa-ris-ka-roo-pa (two crows) the
younger (+plate+ 27), one of the most extraordinary men in the Crow
nation; not only for his looks, from the form of his head, which seems
to be distortion itself—and curtailed of all its fair proportions; but
from his extraordinary sagacity as a counsellor and orator, even at an
early stage of his life.

There is something very uncommon in this outline, and sets forth the
striking peculiarity of the Crow tribe, though rather in an exaggerated
form. The semi-lunar outline of the Crow head, with an exceedingly low
and retreating forehead, is certainly a very peculiar and striking
characteristic; and though not so strongly marked in most of the tribe
as in the present instance, is sufficient for their detection whenever
they are met; and will be subject for further comment in another place.

The Crow women (and Blackfeet also) are not handsome, and I shall at
present say but little of them. They are, like all other Indian
women, the slaves of their husbands: being obliged to perform all the
domestic duties and drudgeries of the tribe, and not allowed to join
in their religious rites or ceremonies, nor in the dance or other
amusements.

[Illustration: 24 25]

[Illustration: 26 27]

The women in all these upper and western tribes are decently dressed,
and many of them with great beauty and taste; their dresses are all of
deer or goat skins, extending from their chins quite down to the feet;
these dresses are in many instances trimmed with ermine, and ornamented
with porcupine quills 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 vermilion or red earth. For 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 seems strictly to be adhered to
by every man in the tribe; they separate the hair in two places on the
forehead, leaving a lock between the two, of an inch or two in width,
which is 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 intermarry 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 collect the languages of all the different
tribes which I am visiting; and I shall, from necessity, leave this
subject chiefly for others, who have the time to devote to them, to
explain them to the world. 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 are, 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 acquaintance 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 unconquerable spirit of trade and
enterprize, has pushed its establishments into their country; and the
numerous parties of trappers are tracing up their streams and rivers,
rapidly destroying the beavers which dwell in them. The Blackfeet
have repeatedly informed the Traders of the Company, that if their
men persisted in trapping beavers in their country, they should kill
them whenever they met them. They have executed their threats in many
instances, and the Company loses some fifteen or twenty men annually,
who fall by the hands of these people, in defence of what they deem
their property and their rights. Trinkets and whiskey, however, will
soon spread their charms amongst these, as they have amongst other
tribes; and white man’s voracity will sweep the prairies and the
streams of their wealth, to the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean;
leaving the Indians to inhabit, and at last to starve upon, a dreary
and solitary waste.

The Blackfeet, therefore, 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 I can learn, however,
which is the best information that can be got from the Traders, there
are not far from 40,000 Indians (altogether), who range under the
general denomination of Blackfeet.

From our slight and imperfect knowledge of them, and other tribes
occupying the country about the sources of the Missouri, there is no
doubt in my mind, that we are in the habit of bringing more Indians
into the computation, than are entitled justly to the appellation of
“Blackfeet.”

Such, for instance, are the “Grosventres de Prairie” and Cotonnés,
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 1650 lodges, averaging ten
to the lodge, amount to about 16,500 souls.

There are then of the other tribes above-mentioned (and whom we,
perhaps, incorrectly denominate Blackfeet), Grosventres des Prairies,
430 lodges, with language entirely distinct; Circees, of 220 lodges,
and Cotonnés, of 250 lodges, with language also distinct from either.[1]

There is in this region a rich and interesting field for the linguist
of 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 Indian languages of North America can all be
traced to two or three roots. The language of the Dohcotas is entirely
and radically distinct from that of the Mandans, and theirs equally so
from the Blackfoot and the Crows. And from the lips of Mr. Brazeau, a
gentleman of education and strict observation, who has lived several
years with the Blackfeet and Shiennes, 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,
Cotonné, 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 3000
in number, living on the north of this, and also the Assinneboins and
Ojibbeways; both of which tribes also inhabit the country to the north
and north-east of the mouth of Yellow Stone.

The Knisteneaux are of small stature, but 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
sacrifice 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 terms of friendship with each other. This friendship, however,
is probably but a temporary arrangement, brought about by the Traders
amongst them; and which, like most Indian peace establishments, will be
of short duration.

The Ojibbeways are, undoubtedly, a part of the tribe of Chippeways,
with whom we are more familiarly acquainted, and who inhabit the
south-west shore of Lake Superior. Their language is the same, though
they are separated several hundred miles from any of them, and seem to
have no knowledge of them, or traditions of the manner in which, or of
the time when, they became severed from each other.

The Assinneboins are a part of the Dohcotas, or Sioux, undoubtedly; for
their personal appearance as well as their language is very similar.

At what time, or in what manner, these two parts of a nation got
strayed away from each other is a mystery; yet such cases have often
occurred, of which I shall say more in future. Large parties who
are straying off in pursuit of game, or in the occupation of war,
are oftentimes intercepted by their enemy; and being prevented from
returning, are run off to a distant region, where they take up their
residence and establish themselves as a nation.

There is a very curious custom amongst the Assinneboins, from which
they have taken their name; a name given them by their neighbours,
from a singular mode they have of boiling their meat, which is done in
the following manner:—when they kill meat, a hole is dug in the ground
about the size of a common pot, and a piece of the raw hide of the
animal, as taken from the back, is put over the hole, and then pressed
down with the hands close around the sides, and filled with water. The
meat to be boiled is then put in this hole or pot of water; and in a
fire, which is built near by, several large stones are heated to a red
heat, which are successively dipped and held in the water until the
meat is boiled; from which singular and peculiar custom, the Ojibbeways
have given them the appellation of Assinneboins or stone boilers.

This custom is a very awkward and tedious one, and used only as an
ingenious means of boiling their meat, by a tribe who was too rude and
ignorant to construct a kettle or pot.

The Traders have recently supplied these people with pots; and even
long before that, the Mandans had instructed them in the secret of
manufacturing very good and serviceable earthen pots; which together
have entirely done away the custom, excepting at public festivals;
where they seem, like all others of the human family, to take pleasure
in cherishing and perpetuating their ancient customs.

Of these three tribes, I have also lined my painting-room with a number
of very interesting portraits of the distinguished and brave men; and
also representations of their games and ceremonies, which will be found
in my +Indian Gallery+, if I live, and they can be preserved until I
get home.

The Assinneboins, or stone boilers, are a fine and noble looking race
of Indians; bearing, both in their looks and customs, a striking
resemblance to the Dohcotas or Sioux, from whom they have undoubtedly
sprung. The men are tall, and graceful in their movements; and wear
their pictured robes of the buffalo hide with great skill and pleasing
effect. They are good hunters, and tolerably supplied with horses;
and living in a country abounding with buffaloes, are well supplied
with the necessaries of Indian life, and may be said to live well.
Their games and amusements are many, of which the most valued one is
the ball-play; and in addition to which, they have the game of the
moccasin, horse-racing, and dancing; some one of which, they seem to be
almost continually practicing, and of all of which I shall hereafter
give the reader (as well as of many others of their amusements) a
minute account.

Their dances, which were frequent and varied, were generally exactly
the same as those of the Sioux, of which I have given a faithful
account in my Notes on the Sioux, and which the reader will soon
meet with. There was one of these scenes, however, that I witnessed
the other day, which appeared to me to be peculiar to this tribe,
and exceedingly picturesque in its effect; which was described to me
as the _pipe-dance_, and was as follows:—On a hard-trodden pavement
in front of their village, which place is used for all their public
meetings, and many of their amusements, the young men, who were to
compose the dance, had gathered themselves around a small fire (+plate+
32), and each one seated on a buffalo-robe spread upon the ground.
In the centre and by the fire, was seated a dignitary, who seemed
to be a chief (perhaps a doctor or medicine-man), with a long pipe
in his hand, which he lighted at the fire and smoked incessantly,
grunting forth at the same time, in half-strangled gutturals, a sort
of song, which I did not get translated to my satisfaction, and which
might have been susceptible of none. While this was going on, another
grim-visaged fellow in another part of the group, commenced beating
on a drum or tambourine, accompanied by his voice; when one of the
young men seated, sprang instantly on his feet, and commenced singing
in time with the taps of the drum, and leaping about on one foot and
the other in the most violent manner imaginable. In this way he went
several times around the circle, bowing and brandishing his fists in
the faces of each one who was seated, until at length he grasped one of
them by the hands, and jerked him forcibly up upon his feet; who joined
in the dance for a moment, leaving the one who had pulled him up, to
continue his steps and his song in the centre of the ring; whilst he
danced around in a similar manner, jerking up another, and then joining
his companion in the centre; leaving the third and the fourth, and
so on to drag into the ring, each one his man, until all were upon
their feet; and at last joined in the most frightful gesticulations
and yells that seemed almost to make the earth quake under our feet.
This strange manœuvre, which I did but partially understand, lasted
for half or three-quarters of an hour; to the great amusement of the
gaping multitude who were assembled around, and broke up with the most
piercing yells and barks like those of so many affrighted dogs.

The Assinneboins, somewhat like the Crows, cultivate their hair to
a very great length, in many instances reaching down nearly to the
ground; but in most instances of this kind, I find the great length is
produced by splicing or adding on several lengths, which are fastened
very ingeniously by means of glue, and the joints obscured by a sort
of paste of red earth and glue, with which the hair is at intervals of
every two or three inches filled, and divided into locks and slabs of
an inch or so in breadth, and falling straight down over the back to
the heels.

I have painted the portrait of a very distinguished young man, and son
of the chief (+plate+ 28); his dress is a very handsome one, and in
every respect answers well to the descriptions I have given above. The
name of this man is Wi-jun-jon (the pigeon’s egg head), and by the side
of him (+plate+ 29) will be seen the portrait of his wife, Chin-cha-pee
(the fire bug that creeps), a fine looking squaw, in a handsome dress
of the mountain-sheep skin, holding in her hand a stick curiously
carved, with which every woman in this country is supplied; for the
purpose of digging up the “Pomme Blanche,” or prairie turnip, which is
found in great quantities in these northern prairies, and furnishes the
Indians with an abundant and nourishing food. The women collect these
turnips by striking the end of the stick into the ground, and prying
them out; after which they are dried and preserved in their wigwams for
use during the season.

I have just had the satisfaction of seeing 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 entrée amongst his own people, in the dress and with the airs
of a civilized beau, was one of no ordinary occurrence; and produced no
common sensation amongst the red-visaged Assinneboins, or in the minds
of those who were travellers, and but spectators to the scene.

On his way home from St. Louis to this place, a distance of 2000 miles,
I travelled with this gentleman, on the steamer Yellow-Stone; and
saw him step ashore (on a beautiful prairie, where several thousands
of his people were encamped), with a complete suit _en militaire_,
a colonel’s uniform of blue, presented to him by the President of
the United States, with a beaver hat and feather, with epaulettes of
gold—with sash and belt, and broad sword; with high-heeled boots—with
a keg of whiskey under his arm, and a blue umbrella in his hand. In
this plight and metamorphose, he took 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 interchange with
them. Thus the mutual gazings upon and from this would-be-stranger,
lasted for full half an hour; when a gradual, but cold and exceedingly
formal recognition began to take place, and an acquaintance ensued,
which ultimately and smoothly resolved itself, without the least
apparent emotion, into its former state; and the mutual kindred
intercourse seemed to flow on exactly where it had been broken off,
as if it had been but for a moment, and nothing had transpired in the
interim to check or change its character or expression.

Such is one of the stoic instances of a custom which belongs to all the
North American Indians, forming one of the most striking features in
their character; valued, cherished and practiced, like many others
of their strange notions, for reasons which are difficult to be learned
or understood; and which probably will never be justly appreciated by
others than themselves.

[Illustration: 29 28]

[Illustration: 30 31]

[Illustration: 32]

This man, at this time, is creating a wonderful sensation amongst
his tribe, who are daily and nightly 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 find 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
develop.

He is now in disgrace, and spurned by the leading men of the tribe, and
rather to be pitied than envied, for the advantages which one might
have supposed would have flown from his fashionable tour. More of this
curious occurrence and of this extraordinary man, I will surely give in
some future epistles.

The women of this tribe are often comely, and sometimes pretty;
in +plate+ 34, will be seen a fair illustration of the dresses of
the women and children, which 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
the Rocky Mountains.

I have before said of these, that they were about 3000 in numbers—by
that, I meant but a small part of this extensive tribe, who are in the
habit of visiting the American Fur Company’s Establishment, at this
place, to do their trading; and who themselves, scarcely know anything
of the great extent of country over which this numerous and scattered
family range. Their customs may properly be said to be primitive, as no
inroads of civilized habits have been as yet successfully made amongst
them. Like the other tribes in these regions, they dress in skins, and
gain their food, and conduct their wars in a very similar manner. They
are a very daring and most adventurous tribe; roaming vast distances
over the prairies and carrying war into their enemy’s country. With the
numerous tribe of Blackfeet, 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 the dresses of the females in this tribe; which,
without further comment, is all I shall say at this time, of the
valorous tribe of Crees or Knisteneaux.

The Ojibbeways I have briefly mentioned in a former place, and of them
should say more; which will be done at a proper time, after I shall
have visited other branches of this great and scattered family.

The chief of that part of the Ojibbeway tribe who inhabit these
northern regions (+plate+ 35), and whose name is Sha-co-pay (the Six),
is a man of huge size; with dignity of manner, and pride and vanity,
just about in proportion to his bulk. He sat for his portrait in a most
beautiful dress, fringed with scalp locks in profusion; which he had
snatched, in his early life from his enemies’ heads, and now wears as
proud 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 hieroglyphics, 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 agreeable (+plate+ 36), is seen represented by his
side.

I have much to see of these people yet, and much consequently to write;
so for the present I close my book.

  [1] Several years since writing the above, I held a conversation
  with Major Pilcher (a strictly correct and honourable man, who was
  then the agent for these people, who has lived amongst them, and is
  at this time superintendent of Indian affairs at St. Louis), who
  informed me, much to my surprise, that the Blackfeet were not far
  from 60,000 in numbers, including all the confederacy of which I
  have just spoken.




                             LETTER—No. 9.

                MOUTH OF YELLOW STONE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Since 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 in a canoe; but yet
I may give you many a retrospective 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, however, of the most vivid kind, are rapidly and indelibly
made by the 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 catches
volumes of incidents which are easy to write—it is but to unfold a web
which the fascinations of this _shorn_ country and its allurements
have spun over the soul—it is but to paint the splendid panorama 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-carpeted bluffs, a thousand miles severed from his own familiar
land, and giddily gazed over the interminable and boundless ocean of
grass-covered hills and valleys which lie beneath him, where the gloom
of _silence_ is complete—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 buffaloes range, the elk,
mountain-sheep, and the fleet-bounding antelope—where the magpie and
chattering parroquettes supply the place of the red-breast and the
blue-bird—where wolves are white and bears grizzly—where pheasants are
hens of the prairie, and frogs have horns!—where the rivers are 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 acquaintance), could
be recognised in this country of strange metamorphose. The former shed
everywhere his familiar rays; and Monsr. Ratapon was hailed as an old
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 different 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 degradation; where the genius of natural
liberty and independence have been blasted and destroyed by the
contaminating vices and dissipations introduced by the immoral part of
_civilized_ society. Through this dark and sunken vale of wretchedness
one hurries, as through a pestilence, until he gradually rises again
into the proud and chivalrous pale of savage society, in its state of
original nature, beyond the reach of civilized contamination; here he
finds much to fix his enthusiasm upon, and much to admire. Even here,
the predominant passions of the savage breast, of ferocity and cruelty,
are often found; yet _restrained_, and frequently _subdued_, by the
noblest traits, of honour and magnanimity,—a race of men who live and
enjoy life and its luxuries, and practice its virtues, very far beyond
the usual estimation of the world, who are apt to judge the savage and
his virtues from the poor, degraded, and humbled specimens which alone
can be seen along our frontiers. From the first settlements of our
Atlantic coast to the present day, the bane of this _blasting frontier_
has regularly crowded upon them, from the northern to the southern
extremities of our country; and, like the 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 numerous tribes
which I have visited, and are yet uncorrupted by the vices of civilized
acquaintance, are well clad, in many instances cleanly, and in the
full enjoyment of life and its luxuries. It is for the character and
preservation of these noble fellows that I am an enthusiast; and it is
for these uncontaminated people that I would be willing to devote the
energies of my life. It is a sad and melancholy 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 has passed over them—have
sunk into their graves, and everything but their names travelled into
oblivion.

[Illustration: 33]

[Illustration: 34]

[Illustration: 35]

[Illustration: 36]

The distinctive character of all these Western Indians, as well as
their traditions relative to their ancient locations, prove beyond a
doubt, that they have been for a very long time located on the soil
which they now possess; and in most respects, distinct and unlike those
nations who formerly inhabited the Atlantic coast, and who (according
to the erroneous opinion of a great part of the world), have fled to
the West.

It is for these inoffensive and unoffending people, yet unvisited by
the vices of civilized society, that I would proclaim to the world,
that it is time, for the honour of our country—for the honour of
every citizen of the republic—and for the sake of humanity, that our
government should raise her strong arm to save the remainder of them
from the pestilence which is rapidly advancing upon them. We have
gotten from them territory enough, and the country which they now
inhabit is most of it too barren of timber for the use of civilized
man; it affords them, however, the means and luxuries of savage life;
and it is to be hoped that our 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 inevitable 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 happiness 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 enjoyment which beams from their
happy faces, I should give it as my opinion, that their lives were
much more happy than ours; that is, if the word happiness is properly
applied to the enjoyments of those who have not experienced the light
of the Christian religion. I have long looked with the eye of a critic,
into the jovial faces of these sons of the forest, unfurrowed with
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 fellows are all joint-tenants of
the soil, they are all rich, and none of the steepings of comparative
poverty can strangle their just claims to renown. Who (I would ask)
can look without admiring, into a society where peace and harmony
prevail—where virtue is cherished—where rights are protected, and
wrongs are redressed—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,”[2] 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 4000 miles from the Atlantic shore, regularly receding
from the centre of civilized society to the extreme wilderness of
Nature’s original work, and back again, opens a 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, when we arrived at Niagara Falls; and hastened back to
amuse their friends with tales and scenes of the West. At Buffalo a
steam-boat was landing with 400 passengers, and twelve days out—“Where
from?” “From the West.” In the rich state of Ohio, hundreds were
selling their farms and going—to the West. In the beautiful city of
Cincinnati, people said to me, “Our town has passed the days of its
most rapid growth, it is not far enough West.”—In St. Louis, 1400 miles
west of New York, my landlady assured me that I would be pleased with
her boarders, for they were nearly all merchants from the “West.” I
there asked,—“Whence come those steam-boats, laden with pork, honey,
hides, &c.?”

From the West.

Whence those ponderous bars of silver, which those men have been for
hours shouldering and putting on board that boat?

They come from Santa Fee, from the West.

Where goes this steam-boat so richly laden with dry goods,
steam-engines, &c.?

She goes to Jefferson city.

Jefferson city?—Where is that?

Far to the West.

And where goes that boat laden down to her gunnels, the Yellow Stone?

She goes still farther to the West—“Then,” said I, “I’ll go to the
West.”

I went on the Yellow Stone— *    *    *    *

*    *    *    Two thousand miles on her, and we were at the mouth of
Yellow Stone river—at the West. What! invoices, bills of lading, &c., a
wholesale establishment so far to the West! And those strange looking,
long-haired gentlemen, who have just arrived, and are relating the
adventures of their long and tedious journey. Who are they?

Oh! they are some of our merchants just arrived from the West.

And that keel-boat, that 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 I, “I’ll try it again. I will try
and see if I can go to the West.”

  *    *    *    What, a Fort here, too?

Oui, Monsieur—oui, Monsieur (as a dauntless, and
_semibarbarian_-looking, jolly fellow, dashed forth in advance of his
party on his wild horse to meet me.)

What distance are you west of Yellow Stone here, my good fellow?

Comment?

What distance?—(stop)—quel distance?

Pardón, Monsieur, je ne sais pas, Monsieur.

Ne parlez vous l’Anglais?

Non, Monsr. I speaks de French and de Americaine; mais je ne parle pas
l’Anglais.

“Well then, my good fellow, I will speak English, and you may speak
Americaine.”

Pardón, pardón, 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?

Ba’tiste, Monsieur.

What Indians are those so splendidly dressed, and with such fine
horses, encamped on the plain yonder?

Ils sont Corbeaux.

Crows, ha?

Yes, sare, Monsieur.

We are then in the Crow country?

Non, Monsieur, not putty éxact; 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 (pardón).

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, diable! de West? well you shall see, Monsieur, he is putty fair
off, súppose. 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 éxact; mais, súppose, I am “_free trappare_,”
free, Monsr. free.

Free trapper, what’s that? I don’t understand you, Ba’tiste.

Well, Monsr. súppose 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 bounté—pour bounté, eighty dollare (understand, ha?) den I
am go for wages, et I ave come de Missouri up, et I am trap castors
putty much for six years, you see, until I am learn very much; and den
you see, Monsr. M‘Kenzie is give me tree horse—one pour ride, et two
pour pack (mais 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 álone on de leet rivares pour prendre les castors. Sometime
six months—sometime five month, and I come back to Yel Stone, et Monsr.
M‘Kenzie is give me coot price pour all.

So Mr. M‘Kenzie fits you out, and takes your beaver of you at a certain
price?

Oui, Monsr. oui.

What price does he pay you for your beaver, Ba’tiste?

Ha! súppose one dollare pour one beavare.

A dollar per skin, ah?

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 rascalité
Riccaree, et de dam Pieds noirs, de Blackfoot Ingin, I am make very
much monnair, mais (sacré), I am rob—rob—rob too much!

What, do the Blackfeet rob you of your furs?

Oui, Monsr. rob, súppose, five time! I am been free trappare seven
year, et I am rob five time—I am someting left not at all—he is take
all; he is take all de horse—he is take my gun—he is take all my
clothes—he is takee de castors—et I am come back with foot. So in
de Fort, some cloths is cost putty much monnair, et 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, Monsr. “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——eh 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.

But 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, Monsieur.

Well then, turn about; I am going to pay them a visit, and you can
render me a service.—Bien, Monsieur, allons.

  [2] Wyöming.




                             LETTER—No. 10.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Soon after the writing of my last 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
subterraneous city—the strangest place in the world; where one sees
in the most rapid succession, scenes which force him to mirth—to pity
and compassion—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 for me
a snug little craft, that was to waft us down the mighty torrent; we
launched off one fine morning, taking our leave of the Fort, and the
friends within it; and also, for ever, of the beautiful green fields,
and hills, and dales, and prairie bluffs, that encompass the enchanting
shores of the Yellow Stone.

Our canoe, which was made of green timber, was heavy and awkward; but
our course being with the current, promised us a fair and successful
voyage. Ammunition was laid in in abundance—a good stock of dried
buffalo tongues—a dozen or two of beavers’ tails—and a good supply of
pemican. Bogard and Ba’tiste occupied the middle and bow, with their
paddles in their hands; and I took my seat in the stern of the boat,
at the steering oar. Our larder was as I have said; and added to that,
some few pounds of fresh buffalo meat.

Besides which, and ourselves, our little craft carried several
packs of Indian dresses and other articles, which I had purchased
of the Indians; and also my canvass and easel, and our culinary
articles, which were few and simple; consisting of three tin cups, a
coffee-pot—one plate—a frying-pan—and a tin kettle.

Thus fitted out and embarked, we swept off at a rapid rate under the
shouts of the savages, and the cheers of our friends, who lined the
banks as we gradually lost sight of them, and turned our eyes towards
St. Louis, which was 2000 miles below us, with nought intervening, save
the widespread and wild regions, inhabited by the roaming savage.

At the end of our first day’s journey, we found ourselves handily
encamping 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
appearance 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
supplied her with a beautiful pair of leggings; and his silver-laced
hat-band had been converted into a splendid pair of garters for the
same. His umbrella the poor fellow still affectionately held on to,
and kept spread at all times. As I before said, his theme seemed to
be exhaustless, and he, in the estimation of his tribe, to be an
unexampled liar.

Of the village of Assinneboins we took leave on the following morning,
and rapidly made our way down the river. The rate of the current
being four or five miles per hour, through one continued series of
picturesque grass-covered bluffs and knolls, which everywhere had the
appearance of an old and highly-cultivated country, with houses and
fences removed.

There is, much of the way, on one side or the other, a bold and abrupt
precipice of three or four hundred feet in elevation, presenting itself
in an exceedingly rough and picturesque form, to the shore of the
river; sloping down from the summit level of the prairies above, which
sweep off from the brink of the precipice, almost level, to an unknown
distance.

It is along the rugged and wild fronts of these cliffs, whose sides are
generally formed of hard clay, that the mountain-sheep dwell, and are
often discovered in great numbers. Their habits are much like those
of the goat; and in every respect they are like that animal, except
in the horns, which resemble those of the ram; sometimes making two
entire circles in their coil; and at the roots, each horn is, in some
instances, from five to six inches in breadth.

On the second day of our voyage we discovered a number of these
animals skipping along the sides of the precipice, always keeping
about equi-distant between the top and bottom of the ledge; leaping
and vaulting in the most extraordinary manner from point to point, and
seeming to cling actually, to the sides of the wall, where neither man
nor beast could possibly follow them.

We landed our canoe, and endeavoured to shoot one of these sagacious
animals; and after he had led us a long and fruitless chase, amongst
the cliffs, we thought we had fairly entrapped him in such a way as to
be sure to bring him, at last, within the command of our rifles; when
he suddenly bounded from his narrow foot-hold in the ledge, and tumbled
down a distance of more than a hundred feet, amongst the fragments of
rocks and clay, where I thought we must certainly find his carcass
without further trouble; when, to my great surprise, I saw him bounding
off, and he was almost instantly out of my sight.

Bogard, who was an old hunter, and well acquainted with these
creatures, shouldered his rifle, and said to me—“the game is up; and
you now see the use of those big horns; when they fall by accident, or
find it necessary to quit their foot-hold in the crevice, they fall
upon their head at a great distance unharmed, even though it should be
on the solid rock.”

Being on shore, and our canoe landed secure, we whiled away the greater
part of this day amongst the wild and ragged cliffs, into which we had
entered; and a part of our labours were vainly spent in the pursuit
of a war-eagle. This noble bird is the one which the Indians in these
regions, value so highly for their tail feathers, which are used as
the most valued plumes for decorating the heads and dresses of their
warriors. It is a beautiful bird, and, the Indians tell me, conquers
all other varieties of eagles in the country; from which circumstance,
the Indians respect the bird, and hold it in the highest esteem, and
value its quills. I am unable so say to what variety it belongs; but
I am sure it is not to be seen in any of our museums; nor is it to be
found in America (I think), until one gets near to the base of the
Rocky Mountains. This bird has often been called the calumet eagle and
war-eagle; the last of which appellations I have already accounted
for; and the other has arisen from the fact, that the Indians almost
invariably ornament their calumets or pipes of peace with its quills.

Our day’s loitering brought us through many a wild scene; occasionally
across the tracks of the grizzly bear, and, in sight merely of a band
of buffaloes; “which got the wind of us,” and were out of the way,
leaving us to return to our canoe at night, with a mere speck of good
luck. Just before we reached the river, I heard the crack of a rifle,
and in a few moments Bogard came in sight, and threw down from his
shoulders a fine antelope; which added to our larder, and we were
ready to proceed. We embarked and travelled until nightfall, when
we encamped on a beautiful little prairie at the base of a series of
grass-covered bluffs; and the next morning cooked our breakfast and
ate it, and rowed on until late in the afternoon; when we stopped at
the base of some huge clay bluffs, forming one of the most curious
and romantic scenes imaginable. At this spot the river expands itself
into the appearance somewhat of a beautiful lake; and in the midst of
it, and on and about its sand-bars, floated and stood, hundreds and
thousands of white swans and pelicans.

Though the scene in front of our encampment at this place was placid
and beautiful; with its flowing water—its wild fowl—and its almost
endless variety of gracefully sloping hills and green prairies in the
distance; yet it was not less wild and picturesque in our rear, where
the rugged and various coloured bluffs were grouped in all the wildest
fancies and rudeness of Nature’s accidental varieties.

The whole country behind us seemed to have been dug and thrown up into
huge piles, as if some giant mason had been there mixing his mortar
and paints, and throwing together his rude models for some sublime
structure of a colossal city;—with its walls—its domes—its ramparts—its
huge porticos and galleries—its castles—its fosses and ditches;—and in
the midst of his progress, he had abandoned his works to the destroying
hand of time, which had already done much to tumble them down, and
deface their noble structure; by jostling them together, with all their
vivid colours, into an unsystematic 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 hundred feet, generally
pointed or rounded at the top, and in some places grouped together
in great numbers; some of which having a tabular surface on the top,
and covered with a green turf. This fact (as all of those which are
horizontal on their tops, and corresponding exactly with the summit
level of the wide-spreading prairies in distance) clearly shows, that
their present isolated and rounded forms have been produced by the
action of waters: which have carried away the intervening earth, and
left them in the picturesque shapes in which they are now seen.

A similar formation (or _de_formation) 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 high enough to support anything of
the original surface) is composed, for the depth of fifteen feet, of
red pumice; terminating at its bottom, in a layer of several feet of
sedimentary deposite, which is formed into endless conglomerates 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 the rains and melting of the frost; and
the superincumbent masses of pumice and basalt are crumbling off, and
falling down to their bases; and from thence, in vast quantities, by
the force of the gorges of water which are often cutting their channels
between them—carried into the river, which 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 vermilion. It is
porous and open, and its specific gravity but trifling. These curious
bluffs must be seen as they are in nature; or else in a painting, where
their colours are faithfully given, or they lose their picturesque
beauty, which consists in the variety of their vivid tints. The strata
of clay are alternating from red to yellow—white—brown and dark blue;
and so curiously arranged, as to form the most pleasing and singular
effects.

During the day that I loitered about this strange scene, I left my
men stretched upon the grass, by the canoe; and taking my rifle and
sketch-book in my hand, I wandered and clambered through the rugged
defiles between the bluffs; passing over and under the immense blocks
of the pumice, that had fallen to their bases; determined, if possible,
to find the crater, or source, from whence these strange phenomena
had sprung; but after clambering and squeezing about for some time,
I unfortunately came upon the enormous tracks of a grizzly bear,
which, apparently, 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
enjoying the pleasure of a “mountaineer’s nap”—we met together—took
our coffee and dried buffalo tongues—spread our buffalo robes upon the
grass, and enjoyed during the night the luxury of sleep, that belongs
so peculiarly to the tired voyageur in these realms of pure air and
dead silence.

[Illustration: 37]

[Illustration: 38]

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 slumbers. 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 rawhide
thong, with which it was tied to a stake, had been chewed, and no doubt
swallowed, as there was no trace of it remaining. Nor was this peep
into the secrets of our luggage enough for her insatiable curiosity—we
saw by the prints of her huge paws, that were left in the ground, that
she had been perambulating our humble mattresses, smelling at our toes
and our noses, without choosing to molest us; verifying a trite saying
of the country, “That man lying down is _medicine_ to the grizzly
bear;” though it is a well-known fact, that man and beast, upon their
feet, are sure to be attacked when they cross the path of this grizzly
and grim monster, which is the 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, however,
entirely failed, though we were well armed; 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 scalping-knife in my belt; when Ba’tiste suddenly thrust his arm
over my shoulder and pointing in another direction, exclaimed in an
emphatic tone, “Voila! voila un corps de reserve—Monsr. Cataline—voila
sa mari! allons—allons! déscendons la riviére, 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 possible; giving each one of
them the contents of our rifles as we drifted off in the current; which
brought the she-monster, in all her rage and fury, to the spot where
we, a few moments before, had passed our most prudent resolve.

During the rest of this day, we passed on rapidly, gazing upon and
admiring the beautiful shores, which were continually changing, from
the high and ragged cliffs, to the graceful and green slopes of the
prairie bluffs; and then to the wide expanded meadows, with their long
waving grass, enamelled with myriads of wild flowers.

The scene was one of enchantment the whole way; our chief conversation
was about grizzly bears and hair’s-breadth escapes; of the histories
of which my companions had volumes in store.—Our breakfast was a late
one—cooked and eaten about five in the afternoon; at which time our
demolished larder was luckily replenished by the unerring rifle of
Bogard, which brought down a fine antelope, as it was innocently gazing
at us, from the bank of the river. We landed our boat, and took in
our prize; but there being no wood for our fire, we shoved off, and
soon ran upon the head of an island, that was covered with immense
quantities of raft and drift wood, where we easily kindled a huge fire
and ate our delicious meal from a clean peeled log, astride of which
we comfortably sat, making it answer admirably the double purpose of
chairs and a table. After our meal was finished, we plied the paddles,
and proceeded several miles further on our course; leaving our fire
burning, and dragging our canoe upon the shore, in the dark, in a wild
and unknown spot; and silently spreading our robes for our slumbers,
which it is not generally considered prudent to do by the side of our
fires, which might lead a war-party upon us, who often are prowling
about and seeking an advantage over their enemy.

The scenery of this day’s travel, as I have before said, was
exceedingly beautiful; and our canoe was often run to the shore,
upon which we stepped to admire the endless variety of wild flowers,
“wasting their sweetness on the desert air,” and the abundance of
delicious fruits that were about us. Whilst wandering through the high
grass, the wild sun-flowers and voluptuous lilies were constantly
taunting us by striking our faces; whilst 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
effect, the wild rose bushes seemed planted in beds and in hedges, and
everywhere were decked out in all the glory of their delicate tints,
and shedding sweet aroma to every breath of the air that passed over
them.

In addition to these, we had the luxury of service-berries, without
stint; and the buffalo bushes, which are peculiar to these northern
regions, lined the banks of the river and defiles in the bluffs,
sometimes for miles together; forming almost impassable hedges,
so loaded with the weight of their fruit, that their boughs were
everywhere gracefully bending down and resting on the ground.

This last shrub (_shepperdia_), which may be said to be the most
beautiful ornament that decks out the wild prairies, forms a striking
contrast to the rest of the foliage, from the blue appearance of its
leaves, by which it can be distinguished for miles in distance. The
fruit which it produces in such incredible profusion, hanging in
clusters to every limb and to every twig, is about the size of ordinary
currants, and not unlike them in colour and even in flavour; being
exceedingly acid, and almost unpalatable, until they are bitten by the
frost of autumn, when they are sweetened, and their flavour delicious;
having, to the taste, much the character of grapes, and I am inclined
to think, would produce excellent wine.

The shrub which bears them resembles some varieties of the thorn,
though (as I have said) differs entirely in the colour of its leaves.
It generally grows to the height of six or seven feet, and often to
ten or twelve; and in groves or hedges, in some places, for miles in
extent. While gathering the fruit, and contemplating it as capable of
producing good wine, I asked my men this question, “Suppose we three
had ascended the river to this point in the spring of the year, and in
a timbered bottom had pitched our little encampment; and one of you 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 other to have built
a mackinaw-boat, capable of carrying fifty or a hundred casks; and I
had been a good hunter, capable of supplying the little encampment with
meat; and we should have started off about this time, to float down
the current, stopping our boat wherever we saw the finest groves of
the buffalo bush, collecting the berries and expressing the juice, and
putting it into our casks for fermentation while on the water for two
thousand miles; how many bushels of these berries could you two gather
in a day, provided I watched the boat and cooked your meals? and how
many barrels of good wine do you think we could offer for sale in St.
Louis when we should arrive there?”

This idea startled my two men exceedingly, and Ba’tiste gabbled so
fast in French, that I could not translate; and I am almost willing
to believe, that but for the want of the requisite tools for the
enterprize, I should have lost the company of Bogard and Ba’tiste; or
that I should have been under the necessity of submitting to one of the
unpleasant alternatives which are often regulated by the _majority_, in
this strange and singular wilderness.

I at length, however, got their opinions on the subject; when they
mutually agreed that they could gather thirty bushels of this fruit
per day; and I gave it then, and I offer it now, as my own also,
that their estimate was not out of the way, and judged so from the
experiments which we made in the following manner:—We several times
took a large mackinaw blanket which I had in the canoe, and spreading
it on the ground 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 unfrequently would
produce us, from one blow, the eighth part of a bushel of this fruit;
when the boughs relieved of their burden, instantly flew up to their
native position.

Of this beautiful native, which I think would form one of the loveliest
ornamental shrubs for a gentleman’s park or pleasure grounds, I
procured a number of the roots; but which, from the many accidents and
incidents that our unlucky bark was subjected to on our rough passage,
I lost them (and almost the recollection of them) as well as many other
curiosities I had collected on our way down the river.

On the morning of the next day, and not long after we had stopped and
taken our breakfast, and while our canoe was swiftly gliding along
under the shore of a beautiful prairie, I saw in the grass, on the
bank above me, what I supposed to be the back of a fine elk, busy at
his grazing. I let our craft float silently by for a little distance,
when I communicated the intelligence to my men, and slily ran in, to
the shore. I pricked the priming of my firelock, and taking a bullet
or two in my mouth, stepped ashore, and trailing my rifle in my hand,
went back under the bank, carefully crawling up in a little ravine,
quite sure of my game; when, to my utter surprise and violent alarm,
I found the elk to be no more nor less than an Indian pony, getting
his breakfast! and a little beyond him, a number of others grazing;
and nearer to me, on the left, a war-party reclining around a little
fire; and yet nearer, and within twenty paces of the muzzle of my gun,
the naked shoulders if a brawny Indian, who seemed busily engaged in
cleaning his gun. From this critical dilemma, the reader can easily
imagine that I vanished with all the suddenness and secrecy that was
possible, bending my course towards my canoe. Bogard and Ba’tiste
correctly construing the expression of my face, and the agitation of
my hurried retreat, prematurely unmoored from the shore; and the force
of the current carrying them around a huge pile of drift wood, threw
me back for some distance upon my 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 our sinews with effect and in silence, till we
were wafted far from the ground which we deemed critical and dangerous
to our lives; for we had been daily in dread of meeting a war-party of
the revengeful Riccarees, which we had been told was on the river, in
search of the Mandans. From and after this exciting occurrence, the
entries in my journal for the rest of the voyage to the village of the
Mandans, were as follow:—

Saturday, fifth day of our voyage from the mouth of Yellow Stone, at
eleven o’clock.—Landed our canoe in the Grand Détour (or Big Bend) as
it is called, at the base of a stately clay mound, and ascended, all
hands, to the summit level, to take a glance at the picturesque and
magnificent 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’tiste and Bogard carried my easel and canvass to the top of a huge
mound, where they left me at my work; and I painted my picture (+plate+
39), whilst they amused themselves with their rifles, decoying a flock
of antelopes, of which they killed several, and abundantly added to the
stock of our provisions.

Scarcely anything in nature can be found, I am sure, more exceedingly
picturesque than the view from this place; exhibiting the wonderful
manner in which the gorges of the river have cut out its deep channel
through these walls of clay on either side, of two or three hundred
feet in elevation; and the imposing features of the high table-lands
in distance, standing as a perpetual anomaly in the country, and
producing the indisputable, though astounding evidence of the fact,
that there has been at some ancient period, a _super_ surface to this
country, corresponding with the elevation of these tabular hills, whose
surface, for half a mile or more, on their tops, is perfectly level;
being covered with a green turf, and yet one hundred and fifty or two
hundred feet elevated above what may now be properly termed the summit
level of all this section of country; as will be seen stretching off at
their base, without furnishing other instances in hundreds of miles,
of anything rising one foot above its surface, excepting the solitary
group which is shewn in the painting.

The fact, that _there_ was once the summit level of this great valley,
is a stubborn one, however difficult it may be to reconcile it with
reasonable causes and results; and the mind of feeble man is at once
almost paralyzed in endeavouring to comprehend the process by which the
adjacent country, from this to the base of the Rocky Mountains, as well
as in other directions, could have been swept away; and equally so, for
knowledge of the place where its mighty deposits have been carried.

I recollect to have seen on my way up the river, at the distance of
six or eight hundred miles below, a place called “the Square Hills,”
and another denominated “the Bijou Hills;” which are the only features
on the river, seeming to correspond with this strange _remain_, and
which, on my way down, I shall carefully examine; and not fail to
add their testimonies (if I am not mistaken in their character) to
further speculations on this interesting feature of the geology of the
great valley of the Missouri. Whilst my men were yet engaged in their
sporting excursions, I left my easel and travelled to the base and
summit of these tabular hills; which, to my great surprise, I found to
be several miles from the river, and a severe journey to accomplish
getting back to our encampment at nightfall. I found by their sides
that they were evidently of an alluvial deposite, composed of a great
variety of horizontal layers of clays of different colours—of granitic
sand and pebbles (many of which furnished me beautiful specimens of
agate, jasper and carnelians), and here and there large fragments of
pumice and cinders, which gave, as instances above-mentioned, evidences
of volcanic remains.

The mode by which Bogard and Ba’tiste had been entrapping the timid
and sagacious antelopes was one which is frequently and successfully
practised in this country; and on this day had afforded them fine
sport.

The antelope of this country, I believe to be different from all
other known varieties, and forms one of the most pleasing, living
ornaments to this western world. They are seen in some places 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 handkerchief on the end of his gun-rod (+plate+ 40),
which he sticks in the ground, and to which they are sure to advance,
though with great coyness and caution; whilst he lies close, at a
little distance, with his rifle in hand; when it is quite an easy
matter to make sure of two or three at a shot, which he gets in range
of his eye, to be pierced with one bullet.

On Sunday, departed from our encampment in the Grand Détour; and having
passed for many miles, through a series of winding and ever-varying
bluffs and fancied ruins, like such as have already been described, our
attention was more than usually excited by the stupendous scene (+plate+
41), called by the voyageurs “the Grand Dome,” which was lying in full
view before us.

Our canoe was here hauled ashore, and a day whiled away again, amongst
these clay built ruins.

We clambered to their summits and enjoyed the distant view of the
Missouri 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_
communities; though it was taken in a former excursion, when my party
was on horseback, and near the mouth of the Yellow Stone River; yet
it answers for this place as well as any other, for their habits are
one and the same wherever they are found; their houses or burrows
are all alike, and as their location is uniformly on a level and
desolate prairie, without timber, there is little room for variety or
dissimilarity.

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 Asia. It bears no resemblance to any variety of dogs,
except in the sound of its voice, when excited by the approach of
danger, which is something like that of a very small dog, and still
much more resembling the barking of a grey squirrel.

[Illustration: 39]

[Illustration: 40]

The size of these curious little animals is not far from that of a
very large rat, and they are not unlike in their appearance. As I have
said, their burrows, are uniformly built in a lonely desert; and away,
both from the proximity of timber and water. Each individual, or each
family, dig their hole in the prairie to the depth of eight or ten
feet, throwing up the dirt from each excavation, in a little pile, in
the form of a cone, which forms the only elevation for them to ascend;
where they sit, to bark and chatter when an enemy is approaching their
village. These villages are sometimes of several miles in extent;
containing (I 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 be described.

In the present instance, we made many endeavours to shoot them, but
finding our efforts to be entirely in vain. As we were approaching them
at a distance, each 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. I made several
attempts to get near enough to “draw a bead” upon one of them; and
just before I was ready to fire (and as if they knew the utmost 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 subjected their scalps to danger again, from
the aim of a rifle; when they instantly disappeared from our sight,
and all was silence thereafter, about their premises, as I passed them
over; until I had so far advanced by them, that their ears were again
discovered, 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
communicate 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, without danger from pursuit.

Their food is simply the grass in the immediate vicinity of their
burrows, which is cut close to the ground by their flat, shovel teeth;
and, as they sometimes live twenty miles from any water, it is to be
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, undoubtedly, in a torpid state,
as they certainly lay by no food for that season—nor can they procure
any. These curious little animals belong to almost every latitude in
the vast plains of prairie in North America; and their villages, which
I have sometimes encountered in my travels, have compelled my party to
ride several miles out of our way to get by them; for their burrows are
generally within a few feet of each other, and dangerous to the feet
and the limbs of our horses.

The sketch of the bluffs denominated “the Grand Dome,” of which I spoke
but a few moments since, is a faithful delineation of the lines and
character of that wonderful scene; and the reader has here a just and
striking illustration of the ruin-like appearances, as I have formerly
described, that are 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, owing to the perfect appearance
of its several huge domes, turrets, and towers, which were everywhere
as precise and as perfect in their forms as they are represented in
the illustration. These stupendous works are produced by the continual
washing down of the sides of these clay-formed hills; and although, in
many instances, their sides, by exposure, have become so hardened, that
their change is very slow; yet they are mostly subjected to continual
phases, more or less, until ultimately their decomposition ceases,
and their sides becoming seeded and covered with a green turf, which
protects and holds them (and will hold them) unalterable: 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,
we floated away from this noble scene; looking back again and again
upon it, wondering at its curious and endless changes, as the swift
current of the river, hurried us by, and gradually out of sight of
it. We took a sort of melancholy leave of it—but at every bend and
turn in the stream, we were introduced to others—and others—and yet
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 each step, a great part of the way up
its sides. So curious was this solitary bluff, standing alone as it
did, to the height of 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
devoted 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.

[Illustration: 41]

[Illustration: 42]

[Illustration: 43]

[Illustration: 44]

On this day, just before night, we landed our little boat in front of
the Mandan village; and amongst the hundreds and thousands who flocked
towards 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.




                             LETTER—No. 11.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


I said that I was here in the midst of a strange people, which is
literally true; and I find myself surrounded by subjects and scenes
worthy the pens of Irving or Cooper—of the pencils of Raphael or
Hogarth; rich in legends and romances, which would require no aid of
the imagination for a book or a picture.

The Mandans (or See-pohs-kah-nu-mah-kah-kee, “people of the pheasants,”
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; contending that they were the
_first_ people created on earth. Their existence in these regions has
not 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 by the continual wars which have existed
between them and their neighbours, they have been reduced to their
present numbers.

This tribe is at present located on the west bank of the Missouri,
about 1800 miles above St. Louis, and 200 below the Mouth of Yellow
Stone river. They have two villages only, which are about two miles
distant from each other; and number in all (as near as I can learn),
about 2000 souls. Their present villages are beautifully located, and
judiciously also, for defence against the assaults of their enemies.
The site of the lower (or principal) 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) of dirt—and the thousand spears (not “spires”) and scalp-poles,
&c. &c., of the semi-subterraneous village of the hospitable and
gentlemanly Mandans.

[Illustration: 45]

[Illustration: 46]

These people formerly (and within the recollection of many of their
oldest men) lived fifteen or twenty miles farther down the river, in
ten contiguous villages; the marks or ruins of which are yet plainly
to be seen. At that period, it is evident, as well from the number of
lodges which their villages contained, as from their traditions, that
their numbers were much greater than at the present day.

There are other, and very interesting, traditions and historical facts
relative to a still prior location and condition of these people,
of which I shall speak more fully on a future occasion. From these,
when they are promulged, 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
admirably selected for defence; being on a bank forty or fifty feet
above the bed of the river. The greater part of this bank is nearly
perpendicular, and of solid rock. The 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 fortification) is inside of the piquet, in
which their warriors screen their bodies from the view and weapons of
their enemies, whilst they are reloading and discharging their weapons
through the piquets.

The Mandans are 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 the lodge. These
floors or foundations are all perfectly circular, and varying in size
in proportion to the number of inmates, or of the quality or standing
of the families which are to occupy them. The superstructure is then
produced, by arranging, inside of this circular excavation, firmly
fixed in the ground and resting against the bank, a barrier or wall of
timbers, some eight or nine inches in diameter, of equal height (about
six feet) placed on end, and resting against each other, supported by
a formidable embankment of earth raised against them outside; then,
resting upon the tops of these timbers or piles, are others of equal
size and equal in numbers, of twenty or twenty-five feet in length,
resting firmly against each other, and sending their upper or smaller
ends towards the centre and top of the lodge; rising at an angle of
forty-five degrees to the apex or sky-light, which is about three or
four feet in diameter, answering as a chimney and a sky-light at the
same time. The roof of the lodge being thus formed, is supported by
beams passing around the inner part of the lodge about the middle of
these poles or timbers, and themselves upheld by four or five large
posts passing down to the floor of the lodge. On the top of, and over
the poles forming the roof, is placed a complete mat of willow-boughs,
of half a foot or more in thickness, which protects the timbers from
the dampness of the earth, with which the lodge is covered from bottom
to top, to the depth of two or three feet; and then with a hard or
tough clay, which is impervious to water, and which with long use
becomes quite hard, and a lounging place for the whole family in
pleasant weather—for sage—for wooing lovers—for dogs and all; an airing
place—a look-out—a place for gossip and mirth—a seat for the solitary
gaze and meditations of the stern warrior, who sits and contemplates
the peaceful mirth and happiness that is breathed beneath him, fruits
of his hard-fought battles, on fields of desperate combat with
bristling Red Men.

The floors of these dwellings are of earth, but so hardened by use,
and swept so clean, and tracked by bare and moccassined feet, that
they have almost a polish, and would scarcely soil the whitest linen.
In the centre, and immediately under the sky-light (+plate+ 46) is the
fire-place—a hole of four or five feet in diameter, of a circular form,
sunk a foot or more below the surface, and curbed around with stone.
Over the fire-place, and suspended from the apex of diverging props or
poles, is generally seen the pot or kettle, filled with buffalo meat;
and around it are the family, reclining in all the most picturesque
attitudes and groups, resting on their buffalo-robes and beautiful mats
of rushes. These cabins are so spacious, that they hold from twenty
to forty persons—a family and all their connexions. They all sleep on
bedsteads similar in form to ours, but generally not quite so high;
made of round poles rudely lashed together with thongs. A buffalo skin,
fresh stripped from the animal, is stretched across the bottom poles,
and about two feet from the floor; which, when it dries, becomes much
contracted, and forms a perfect sacking-bottom. The fur side of this
skin is placed uppermost, on which they lie with great comfort, with
a buffalo-robe folded up for a pillow, and others drawn over them
instead of blankets. These beds, as far as I have seen them (and I have
visited almost every lodge in the village), are uniformly screened with
a covering of buffalo or elk skins, oftentimes beautifully dressed
and placed over the upright poles or frame, like a suit of curtains;
leaving a hole in front, sufficiently spacious for the occupant to pass
in and out, to and from his or her bed. Some of these coverings or
curtains are exceedingly beautiful, 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 uncommon
thing to see these lodges fifty feet in diameter inside (which is an
immense room), with a row of these curtained beds extending quite
around their sides, being some ten or twelve of them, placed four or
five feet apart, and the space between them occupied by a large post,
fixed quite firm in the ground, and six or seven feet high, with large
wooden pegs or bolts in it, on which are hung and grouped, with a wild
and startling taste, the arms and armour of the respective proprietor;
consisting of his whitened shield, embossed and emblazoned with the
figure of his protecting _medicine_ (or 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 some conjuror
or Indian magician, to guard and protect the spell of wildness 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
sweethearts, 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 seems to have gone forth to the world
on this subject.

As I have before observed, there is no subject that I know of within
the scope and reach of human wisdom, on which the civilized world in
this enlightened age are more incorrectly informed, than upon that
of the true manners and customs, and moral condition, rights and
abuses, of the North American Indians; and that, as I have also before
remarked, chiefly on account of the difficulty of our cultivating a
fair and honourable acquaintance with them, and doing them the justice,
and ourselves the credit, of a fair and impartial investigation of
their true character. The present age of refinement and research has
brought every thing else that I 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 become changed, at the approach of the enlightened
and intellectual world; who follow him like a phantom for awhile, and
in ignorance of his true character at last turn back to the common
business and social transactions of life.

Owing to the above difficulties, which have stood in the way, the world
have fallen into many egregious errors with regard to the true modes
and meaning of the savage, which I am striving to set forth and correct
in the course of these epistles. And amongst them all, there is none
more common, nor more entirely erroneous, nor more easily refuted,
than the current one, that “the Indian is a sour, morose, reserved and
taciturn man.” I have heard this opinion advanced a thousand times and
I believed it; but such certainly, is not uniformly nor generally the
case.

I have observed in all my travels amongst the Indian tribes, and
more particularly amongst these unassuming people, that they are a
far more talkative and conversational race than can easily be seen
in the civilized world. This assertion, like many others I shall
occasionally make, will somewhat startle the folks at the East, yet
it is true. No one can look into the wigwams of these people, or into
any little momentary group of them, without being at once struck with
the conviction that small-talk, gossip, garrulity, and story-telling,
are the leading passions with them, who have little else to do in
the world, but to while away their lives in the innocent and endless
amusement of the exercise of those talents with which Nature has
liberally endowed them, for their mirth and enjoyment.

One has but to walk or ride about this little town and its environs
for a few hours in a pleasant day, and overlook the numerous games and
gambols, where their notes and yelps of exultation are unceasingly
vibrating in the atmosphere; or peep into their wigwams (and watch
the glistening fun that’s beaming from the noses, cheeks, and chins,
of the crouching, cross-legged, and prostrate groups around the fire;
where the pipe is passed, and jokes and anecdote, and laughter are
excessive) to become convinced that it is natural to laugh and be
merry. Indeed it would be strange if a race of people like these, who
have little else to do or relish in life, should be curtailed in that
source of pleasure and amusement; and it would be also strange, if a
life-time of indulgence and practice in so innocent and productive a
mode of amusement, free from the cares and anxieties of business or
professions, should not advance them in their modes, and enable them to
draw far greater pleasure from such sources, than we in the civilized
and business world can possibly feel. If the uncultivated condition of
their minds curtails the number of their enjoyments; yet they are free
from, and independent of, a thousand cares and jealousies, which arise
from mercenary motives in the civilized world; and are yet far a-head
of us (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 not customary
to look forward into the future with concern, for they live without
incurring the expenses of life, which are absolutely necessary and
unavoidable in the enlightened world; and of course their inclinations
and faculties are solely directed to the enjoyment of the present day,
without the sober reflections on the past or apprehensions of the
future.

With minds thus unexpanded and uninfluenced by the thousand passions
and ambitions of civilized life, it is easy and natural to concentrate
their thoughts and their conversation upon the little and trifling
occurrences of their lives. They are fond of fun and good cheer, and
can laugh easily and heartily at a slight joke, of which their peculiar
modes of life furnish them an inexhaustible fund, and enable them to
cheer their little circle about the wigwam fire-side with endless
laughter and garrulity.

It may be thought, that I am taking a great deal of pains to establish
this fact, and I am dwelling longer upon it than I otherwise should,
inasmuch as I am opposing an error that seems to have become current
through the world; and which, if it be once corrected, removes a
material difficulty, which has always stood in the way of a fair and
just estimation of the Indian character. For the purpose of placing
the Indian in a proper light before the world, as I hope to do in
many respects, it is of importance to me—it is but justice to the
savage—and justice to my readers also, that such points should be
cleared up as I proceed; and for the world who enquire for correct and
just information, they must take my words for the truth, or else come
to this country and look for themselves, into these grotesque circles
of never-ending laughter and fun, instead of going to Washington
City to gaze on the poor embarrassed Indian who is called there by
his “Great Father,” to contend with the sophistry of the learned and
acquisitive world, in bartering away his lands with the graves and the
hunting grounds of his ancestors. There is not the proper place to
study the Indian character; yet it is the place where the sycophant and
the scribbler go to gaze and frown upon him—to learn his character,
and write his history! and because he does not speak, and quaffs the
delicious beverage which he receives from white men’s hands, “he’s a
speechless brute and a drunkard.” An Indian is a beggar in Washington
City, and a white man is almost equally so in the Mandan village. An
Indian in Washington is mute, is dumb and embarrassed; and so is a
white man (and for the very same reasons) in this place—he has nobody
to talk to.

A wild Indian, to reach the civilized world, must needs travel
some thousands of miles in vehicles of conveyance, to which he is
unaccustomed—through latitudes and longitudes which are new to
him—living on food that he is unused to—stared and gazed at by the
thousands and tens of thousands whom he cannot talk to—his heart
grieving and his body sickening at the exhibition of white men’s wealth
and luxuries, which are enjoyed on the land, and over the bones of
his ancestors. And at the end of his journey he stands (like a caged
animal) to be scanned—to be criticised—to be pitied—and heralded to the
world as a mute—as a brute, and a beggar.

A white man, to reach this village, must travel by steam-boat—by
canoes—on horseback and on foot; swim rivers—wade quagmires—fight
mosquitoes—patch his moccasins, and patch them again and again, and his
breeches; live on meat alone—sleep on the ground the whole way, and
think and dream of his friends he has left behind; and when he gets
here, half-starved, and half-naked, and more than half sick, he finds
himself a beggar for a place to sleep, and for something to eat; a
mute amongst thousands who flock about him, to look and to criticise,
and to laugh at him for his jaded appearance, and to speak of him as
they do of all white men (without distinction) as liars. These people
are in the habit of seeing no white men in their country but Traders,
and know of no other; deeming us all alike, and receiving us all under
the presumption that we come to trade or barter; applying to us all,
indiscriminately, the epithet of “liars” or Traders.

The reader will therefore see, that we mutually suffer in each other’s
estimation from the unfortunate ignorance, which distance has chained
us in; and (as I can vouch, and the Indian also, who has visited
the civilized world) that the historian who would record justly and
correctly the character and customs of a people, must go and live among
them.




                             LETTER—No. 12.

                    MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI.


In my last, I gave some account of the village, and the customs, and
appearances of this strange people,—and I will now proceed to give
further details on that subject.

I have this morning, perched myself upon the top of one of the
earth-covered lodges, which I have before described, and having the
whole village beneath and about me (+plate+ 47), with its sachems—its
warriors—its dogs—and its horses in motion—its medicines (or mysteries)
and scalp-poles waving over my head—its piquets—its green fields and
prairies, and river in full view, with the din and bustle of the
thrilling panorama that is about me. I shall be able, I hope, to give
some sketches more to the life than I could have done from any effort
of recollection.

I said that the lodges or wigwams were covered with earth—were of forty
or sixty feet in diameter, and so closely grouped that there was but
just room enough to walk and ride between them,—that they had a door by
which to enter them, and a hole in the top for the admission of light,
and for the smoke to escape,—that the inmates were at times grouped
upon their tops in conversations and other amusements, &c.; and yet
you know not exactly how they look, nor what is the precise appearance
of the strange world that is about me. There is really a newness
and rudeness in every thing that is to be seen. There are several
hundred houses or dwellings about me, and they are purely unique—they
are all covered with dirt—the people are all red, and yet distinct
from all other red folks I have seen. The horses are wild—every dog
is a wolf—the whole moving mass are strangers to me: the living, in
everything, carry an air of intractable wildness about them, and the
dead are not buried, but dried upon scaffolds.

The groups of lodges around me present a very curious and pleasing
appearance, resembling in shape (more nearly than anything else I
can compare them to) so many potash-kettles inverted. On the tops
of these are to be seen groups standing and reclining, whose wild
and picturesque appearance it would be difficult to describe. Stern
warriors, like statues, standing in dignified groups, wrapped in their
painted robes, with their heads decked and plumed with quills of the
war-eagle; extending their long arms to the east or the west, the
scenes of their battles, which they are recounting over to each other.
In another direction, the wooing lover, softening the heart of his fair
Taih-nah-tai-a with the notes of his simple lute. On other lodges, and
beyond these, groups are engaged in games of the “moccasin,” or the
“platter.” Some are to be seen manufacturing robes and dresses, and
others, fatigued with amusements or occupations, have stretched their
limbs to enjoy the luxury of sleep, whilst basking in the sun. With
all this wild and varied medley of living beings are mixed their dogs,
which seem to be so near an Indian’s heart, as almost to constitute a
material link of his existence.

In the centre of the village is an open space, or public area, of 150
feet in diameter, and circular in form, which is used for all public
games and festivals, shews and exhibitions; and also for their “annual
religious ceremonies,” which are soon to take place, and of which I
shall hereafter give some account. The lodges around this open space
front in, with their doors towards the centre; and in the middle of
this circle stands an object of great religious veneration, as I am
told, on account of the importance it has in the conduction of those
annual religious rites.

This object is in form of a large hogshead, some eight or ten feet
high, made of planks and hoops, containing within it some of their
choicest medicines or mysteries, and religiously preserved unhacked or
scratched, as a symbol of the “Big Canoe,” as they call it.

One of the lodges fronting on this circular area, and facing this
strange object of their superstition, is called the “Medicine Lodge,”
or council house. It is in this sacred building that these wonderful
ceremonies, in commemoration of the flood, take place. I am told by the
Traders that the cruelties of these scenes are frightful and abhorrent
in the extreme; and that this huge wigwam, which is now closed, has
been built exclusively for this grand celebration. I am every day
reminded of the near approach of the season for this strange affair,
and as I have not yet seen any thing of it, I cannot describe it; I
know it only from the relations of the Traders who have witnessed parts
of it; and their descriptions are of so extraordinary a character, that
I would not be willing to describe until I can see for myself,—which
will, in all probability, be in a few days.

In ranging the eye over the village from where I am writing, there
is presented to the view the strangest mixture and medley of
unintelligible trash (independent of the living beings that are in
motion), that can possibly be imagined. On the roofs of the lodges,
besides the groups of living, are buffaloes’ skulls, skin canoes,
pots and pottery; sleds and sledges—and suspended on poles, erected
some twenty feet above the doors of their wigwams, are displayed in a
pleasant day, the scalps of warriors, preserved as trophies; and thus
proudly exposed as evidence of their warlike deeds. In other parts are
raised on poles the warriors’ pure and whitened shields and quivers,
with medicine-bags attached; and here and there a sacrifice of red
cloth, or other costly stuff, offered up to the Great Spirit, over
the door of some benignant chief, in humble gratitude for the blessings
which he is enjoying. Such is a part of the strange medley that is
before and around me; and amidst them and the blue streams of smoke
that are rising from the tops of these hundred “coal-pits,” can be
seen in distance, the green and boundless, treeless, bushless prairie;
and on it, and contiguous to the piquet which encloses the village, a
hundred scaffolds on which their “dead live,” as they term it.

[Illustration: 47]

[Illustration: 48]

These people never bury the dead, but place the bodies on slight
scaffolds just above the reach of human hands, and out of the way of
wolves and dogs; and they are there left to moulder and decay. This
cemetery, or place of deposite for the dead, is just back of the
village, on a level prairie (+plate+ 48); and with all its appearances,
history, forms, ceremonies, &c. is one of the strangest and most
interesting objects to be described in the vicinity of this peculiar
race.

Whenever a person dies in the Mandan village, and the customary honours
and condolence are paid to his remains, and the body dressed in its
best attire, painted, oiled, feasted, and supplied with bow and quiver,
shield, pipe and tobacco—knife, flint and steel, and provisions enough
to last him a few days on the journey which he is to perform; a fresh
buffalo’s skin, just taken from the animal’s back, is wrapped around
the body, and tightly bound and wound with thongs of raw hide from head
to foot. Then other robes are soaked in water, till they are quite
soft and elastic, which are also bandaged around the body in the same
manner, and tied fast with thongs, which are wound with great care and
exactness, so as to exclude the action of the air from all parts of the
body.

There is then a separate scaffold erected for it, constructed of four
upright posts, a little higher than human hands can reach; and on the
tops of these are small poles passing around from one post to the
others; across which a number of willow-rods just strong enough to
support the body, which is laid upon them on its back, with its feet
carefully presented towards the rising sun.

There are a great number of these bodies resting exactly in a similar
way; excepting in some instances where a chief, or medicine-man, may
be seen with a few yards of scarlet or blue cloth spread over his
remains, as a mark of public respect and esteem. Some hundreds of these
bodies may be seen reposing in this manner in this curious place, which
the Indians call, “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 will give attention to
the respect and devotions that are paid to this sacred place, he will
draw many a moral deduction that will last him through life: he will
learn, at least, that filial, conjugal, and paternal affection are not
necessarily the results of civilization; but that the Great Spirit
has given them to man in his native state; and that the 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—cutting their flesh with their knives,
and doing other penance to appease the spirits of the dead, whose
misfortunes they attribute to some sin or omission of their own, for
which they sometimes inflict the most excruciating self-torture.

When the scaffolds on which the bodies rest, decay and fall to the
ground, the nearest relations having buried the rest of the bones,
take the skulls, which are perfectly bleached and purified, and place
them in circles of an 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 objects
of religious and affectionate veneration (+plate+ 48).

There are several of these “Golgothas” or circles of twenty or thirty
feet in diameter, and in the centre of each ring or circle is a
little mound of three feet high, on which uniformly rest two buffalo
skulls (a male and female); and in the centre of the little mound is
erected a “medicine pole,” about twenty feet high, supporting many
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.

Each 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
resemblance) the skull of her husband or her child, which lies in this
group; and there seldom passes a day that she does not visit it, with
a dish of the best cooked food that her wigwam affords, which she sets
before the skull at night, and returns for the dish in the morning.
As soon as it is discovered 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 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 phrenologist; 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.




                             LETTER—No. 13.

                    MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI.


In several of my former Letters I have given sketches of the village,
and some few of the customs of these peculiar people; and I have many
more yet in store; some of which will induce the readers to laugh, and
others almost dispose them to weep. But at present, I drop them, and
introduce a few of the wild and gentlemanly Mandans themselves; and
first, Ha-na-tah-nu-mauh, the wolf chief (+plate+ 49). This man is
head-chief of the nation, and familiarly known by the name of “Chef
de Loup,” as the French Traders call him; a haughty, austere, and
overbearing man, respected and feared by his people rather than loved.
The tenure by which this man holds his office, is that by which the
head-chiefs of most of the tribes claim, that of inheritance. It is
a general, though not an infallible rule amongst the numerous tribes
of North American Indians, that the office of chief belongs to the
eldest son of a chief; provided he shews himself, by his conduct, to be
equally worthy of it as any other in the nation: making it hereditary
on a very proper condition—in default of which requisites, or others
which may happen, the office is elective.

The dress of this chief was one of great extravagance, and some beauty;
manufactured of skins, and a great number of quills of the raven,
forming his stylish head-dress.

The next and second chief of the tribe, is Mah-to-toh-pa (the four
bears). This extraordinary man, though second in office is undoubtedly
the first and most popular man in the nation. Free, generous, elegant
and gentlemanly in his deportment—handsome, brave and valiant; wearing
a robe on his back, with the history of his battles emblazoned on it;
which would fill a book of themselves, if properly translated. This,
readers, is the most extraordinary man, perhaps, who lives at this day,
in the atmosphere of Nature’s noblemen; and I shall certainly tell you
more of him anon.

After him, there are Mah-tahp-ta-ha, he who rushes through the middle
(+plate+ 50); Seehk-hee-da, the mouse-coloured feather (+plate+ 51);
San-ja-ka-ko-kah (the deceiving wolf); Mah-to-he-ha (the old bear), and
others, distinguished as chiefs and warriors—and there are belles also;
such as Mi-neek-e-sunk-te-ca, the mink (+plate+ 53); and the little
gray-haired Sha-ko-ka, mint (+plate+ 52); and fifty others, who are
famous for their conquests, not with the bow or the javelin, but
with their small black eyes, which shoot out from under their unfledged
brows, and pierce the boldest, fiercest chieftain to the heart.

[Illustration: 49]

[Illustration: 50 51]

[Illustration: 52 53]

The Mandans are certainly a very interesting and pleasing people in
their personal appearance and manners; differing in many respects, both
in looks and customs, from all other tribes which I have seen. They
are not a warlike people; for they seldom, if ever, carry war into
their enemies’ country; but 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 on 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 supplied their lodges more
abundantly with the comforts, and even luxuries of life, than any
Indian nation I know of. The consequence of this is, that 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 Traders
and others, who have been amongst them, “the polite and friendly
Mandans.”

There is certainly great justice in the remark; and so forcibly have
I 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
discussion; 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, independent 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 him; and is at once almost disposed to exclaim that “these
are not Indians.”

There are a great many of these people whose complexions appear as
light as half breeds; and amongst the women particularly, there are
many whose skins are almost white, with the most pleasing symmetry
and proportion of features; with hazel, with grey, and with blue
eyes,—with mildness and sweetness of expression, and excessive modesty
of demeanour, which render them exceedingly pleasing and beautiful.

Why this diversity of complexion I cannot tell, nor can they
themselves account for it. Their traditions, so far as I have yet
learned them, afford us no information of their having had any
knowledge of white men before the visit of Lewis and Clarke, made to
their village thirty-three years ago. Since that time there have been
but very few visits from white men to this place, and surely not enough
to have changed the complexions and the customs of a nation. And I
recollect perfectly well that Governor Clarke told me, before I started
for this place, that I would find the Mandans a strange people and half
white.

The diversity in the colour of hair is also equally as great as that
in the complexion; for in a numerous group of these people (and more
particularly amongst the females, who never take pains to change its
natural colour, as the men often do), there may be seen every shade and
colour of hair that can be seen in our own country, with the exception
of red or auburn, which is not to be found.

And there is yet one more strange 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 fit to assign a reason. There are very many, of both
sexes, and of every age, from infancy to manhood and old age, with hair
of a bright silvery grey; and in 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,
which spreads over their shoulders and falls as low as the knee. I have
ascertained, on a careful enquiry, that about one in ten or twelve of
the whole tribe are what the French call “cheveux gris,” or greyhairs;
and that this strange and unaccountable 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 I often have,
I have found it uniformly to be as coarse and harsh as a horse’s mane;
differing materially from the hair of other colours, which amongst the
Mandans, is generally as fine and as soft as silk.

The reader will at once see, by the above facts, that there is enough
upon the faces and heads of these people to stamp them peculiar,—when
he meets them in the heart of this almost boundless wilderness,
presenting such diversities of colour in the complexion and hair; when
he knows from what he has seen, and what he has read, that all other
primitive tribes known in America, are dark copper-coloured, with jet
black hair.

From these few facts alone, the reader will see that I am amongst a
strange and interesting people, and know how to pardon me, if I lead
him through a maze of novelty and mysteries to the knowledge of a
strange, yet kind and hospitable, people, whose fate, like that of all
their race is sealed;— whose doom is fixed, to live just long enough
to be imperfectly known, and then to fall before the fell disease or
sword of civilizing devastation.

The stature of the Mandans is rather below the ordinary size of
man, with beautiful symmetry of form and proportion, and wonderful
suppleness and elasticity; they are pleasingly erect and graceful,
both in their walk and their attitudes; and the hair of the men,
which generally spreads over their backs, falling down to the hams,
and sometimes to the ground, is divided into plaits or slabs of two
inches in width, and filled with a profusion of glue and red earth or
vermilion, at intervals of an inch or two, which becoming very hard,
remains in and unchanged from year to year.

This mode of dressing the hair is curious, and gives to the Mandans the
most singular appearance. The hair of the men is uniformly all laid
over from the forehead backwards; carefully kept above and resting on
the ear, and thence falling down over the back, in these flattened
bunches, and painted red, extending oftentimes quite on to the calf
of the leg, and sometimes in such profusion as almost to conceal the
whole figure from the person walking behind them. In the portrait
of San-ja-ka-ko-kah (the deceiving wolf, +plate+ 54), where he is
represented at full length, with several others of his family around
him in a group, there will be seen a fair illustration of these and
other customs of these people.

The hair of the women is also worn as long as they can possibly
cultivate 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 ear, on each side of the head; and
on any occasion which requires 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 Blackfeet (and, in fact,
all other tribes I have seen, without a single exception), of parting
the hair on the forehead, and always keeping the crease or separation
filled with vermilion or other red paint. This is one of the very few
little (and apparently trivial) customs which I have found amongst the
Indians, without being able to assign any cause for it, other than that
“they are Indians,” and that this is an Indian fashion.

In mourning, like the Crows and most other tribes the women are obliged
to crop their hair all off; and the usual term of that condolence is
until the hair has grown again to its former length.

When a man mourns for the death of a near relation the case is quite
different; his long, valued tresses, are of much greater importance,
and only a lock or two can 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 white men
in their country has been friendly and kind ever since their first
acquaintance with them—they have ever met and received them, on the
prairie or in their villages, with hospitality and honour.

They are handsome, straight and elegant in their forms—not tall,
but quick and graceful; easy and polite in their manners, neat in
their persons and beautifully clad. When I say “neat in person and
beautifully clad,” however, I do not intend my readers to understand
that such is the case with them all, for among them and most other
tribes, as with the enlightened world, there are different grades of
society—those who care but little for their personal appearance, and
those who take great pains to please themselves and their friends.
Amongst this class of personages, such as chiefs and braves, or
warriors of distinction, and their families, and dandies or exquisites
(a class of beings of whom I shall take due time to speak in a future
Letter), the strictest regard to decency, and cleanliness and elegance
of dress is observed; and there are few people, perhaps, who take more
pains to keep their persons neat and cleanly than they do.

At the distance of half a mile or so above the village, is the
customary place where the women and girls resort every morning in the
summer months, to bathe in the river. To this spot they repair by
hundreds, every morning at sunrise, where, on a beautiful beach, they
can be seen running and glistening in the sun, whilst they are playing
their innocent gambols and leaping into the stream. They all learn to
swim well, and the poorest swimmer amongst them will dash fearlessly
into the boiling and eddying current of the Missouri, and cross it with
perfect ease. At the distance of a quarter of a mile back from the
river, extends a terrace or elevated prairie, running north from the
village, and forming a kind of semi-circle around this bathing-place;
and on this terrace, which is some twenty or thirty feet higher than
the meadow between it and the river, are stationed every morning
several sentinels, with their bows and arrows in hand, to guard and
protect this sacred ground from the approach of boys or men from any
directions.

At a little distance below the village, also, is the place where
the men and boys go to bathe and learn to swim. After this morning
ablution, they return to their village, wipe their limbs dry, and use a
profusion of bear’s grease through their hair and over their bodies.

The art of swimming is known to all the American Indians; and perhaps
no people on earth have taken more pains to learn it, nor any who turn
it to better account. There certainly are no people whose avocations
of life more often call for the use of their limbs in this way; as
many of the tribes spend their lives on the shores of our vast lakes
and rivers, paddling about from their childhood in their fragile bark
canoes, which are liable to continual accidents, which often throw the
Indian upon his natural resources for the preservation of his life.

There are many times also, when out upon their long marches in the
prosecution of their almost continued warfare, when it becomes
necessary to plunge into and swim across the wildest streams and
rivers, at times when they have no canoes or craft in which to cross
them. I have as yet seen no tribe where this art is neglected. It is
learned at a very early age by both sexes, and enables the strong and
hardy muscles of the squaws to take their child upon the back, and
successfully to pass any river that lies in their way.

[Illustration: 54]

The mode of swimming amongst the Mandans, as well as amongst most of
the other tribes, is quite different from that practiced in those parts
of the civilized world, which I have had the pleasure yet to visit. The
Indian, instead of parting his hands simultaneously under the chin, and
making the stroke outward, in a horizontal direction, causing thereby
a serious strain upon the chest, throws his body alternately upon the
left and the right side, raising one arm entirely above the water and
reaching as far forward as he can, to dip it, whilst his whole weight
and force are spent upon the one that is passing under him, and like a
paddle propelling him along; whilst this arm is making a half circle,
and is being raised out of the water behind him, the opposite arm is
describing a similar arch in the air over his head, to be dipped in the
water as far as he can reach before him, with the hand turned under,
forming a sort of bucket, to act most effectively as it passes in its
turn underneath him.

By this bold and powerful mode of swimming, which may want the grace
that many would wish to see, I am quite sure, from the experience I
have had, that much of the fatigue and strain upon the breast and spine
are avoided, and that a man will preserve his strength and his breath
much longer in this alternate and rolling motion, than he can in the
usual mode of swimming, in the polished world.

In addition to the modes of bathing which I have above described,
the Mandans have another, which is a much greater luxury, and often
resorted to by the sick, but far more often by the well and sound, as
a matter of luxury only, or perhaps for the purpose of hardening their
limbs and preparing them for the thousand exposures and vicissitudes
of life to which they are continually liable. I allude to their vapour
baths, or _sudatories_, of which each village has several, and which
seem to be a kind of public property—accessible to all, and resorted to
by all, male and female, old and young, sick and well.

In every Mandan lodge is to be seen a crib or basket, much in the shape
of a bathing-tub, curiously woven with willow boughs, and sufficiently
large to receive any person of the family in a reclining or recumbent
posture; which, when any one is to take a bath, is carried by the squaw
to the sudatory for the purpose, and brought back to the wigwam again
after it has been used.

These sudatories are always near the village, above or below it, on
the bank of the river. They are generally built of skins (in form of
a Crow or Sioux lodge which I have before described), covered with
buffalo skins sewed tight together, with a kind of furnace in the
centre; or in other words, in the centre of the lodge are two walls of
stone about six feet long and two and a half apart, and about three
feet high; across and over this space, between the two walls, are laid
a number of round sticks, on which the bathing crib is placed (vide
+plate+ 71). Contiguous to the lodge, and outside of it, is a little
furnace something similar, in the side of the bank, where the woman
kindles a hot fire, and heats to a red heat a number of large stones,
which are kept at these places for this particular purpose; and having
them all in readiness, she goes home or sends word to inform her
husband or other one who is waiting, that all is ready; when he makes
his appearance entirely naked, though with a large buffalo robe wrapped
around him. He then enters the lodge and places himself in the crib or
basket, either on his back or in a sitting posture (the latter of which
is generally preferred), with his back towards the door of the lodge;
when the squaw brings in a large stone red hot, between two sticks
(lashed together somewhat in the form of a pair of tongs) and, placing
it under him, throws cold water upon it, which raises a profusion of
vapour about him. He is at once enveloped in a cloud of steam, and a
woman or child will sit at a little distance and continue to dash water
upon the stone, whilst the matron of the lodge is out, and preparing to
make her appearance with another heated stone: or he will sit and dip
from a wooden bowl, with a ladle made of the mountain-sheep’s horn, and
throw upon the heated stones, with his own hands, the water which he is
drawing through his lungs and pores, in the next moment, in the most
delectable and exhilarating vapours, as it distils through the mat of
wild sage and other medicinal and aromatic herbs, which he has strewed
over the bottom of his basket, and on which he reclines.

During all this time the lodge is shut perfectly tight, and he quaffs
this delicious and renovating draught to his lungs with deep drawn
sighs, and with extended nostrils, until he is drenched in the most
profuse degree of perspiration that can be produced; when he makes a
kind of strangled signal, at which the lodge is opened, and he darts
forth with the speed of a frightened deer, and plunges headlong into
the river, from which he instantly escapes again, wraps his robe around
him and “leans” as fast as possible for home. Here his limbs are wiped
dry, and wrapped close and tight within the fur of the buffalo robes,
in which he takes his nap, with his feet to the fire; then oils his
limbs and hair with bear’s grease, dresses and plumes himself for a
visit—a feast—a parade, or a council; or slicks down his long hair,
and rubs his oiled limbs to a polish, with a piece of soft buckskin,
prepared to join in games of ball or Tchung-kee.

Such is the sudatory or the vapour bath of the Mandans, and as I before
observed, it is resorted to both as an every-day luxury by those who
have the time and energy or industry to indulge in it; and also used
by the sick as a remedy for nearly all the diseases which are known
amongst them. Fevers are very rare, and in fact almost unknown amongst
these people: but in the few cases of fever which have been known, this
treatment has been applied, and without the fatal consequences which
we would naturally predict. The greater part of their diseases are
inflammatory rheumatisms, and other chronic diseases; and for these,
this mode of treatment, with their modes of life, does admirably well.
This custom is similar amongst nearly all of these Missouri Indians,
and amongst the Pawnees, Omahas, and Punchas and other tribes, who have
suffered with the small-pox (the dread destroyer of the Indian race),
this mode was practiced by the poor creatures, who fled by hundreds
to the river’s edge, and by hundreds died before they could escape
from the waves, into which they had plunged in the heat and rage of a
burning fever. Such will yet be the scourge, and such the misery of
these poor unthinking people, and each tribe to the Rocky Mountains,
as it has been with every tribe between here and the Atlantic
Ocean. White men—whiskey—tomahawks—scalping knives—guns, powder and
ball—small-pox—debauchery—extermination.




                             LETTER No. 14.

                    MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI.


The Mandans in many instances dress very neatly, and some of them
splendidly. As they are in their native state, their dresses are all
of their own manufacture; and of course, altogether made of skins of
different animals belonging to those regions. There is, certainly,
a reigning and striking similarity of costume amongst most of the
North Western tribes; and I cannot say that the dress of the Mandans
is decidedly distinct from that of the Crows or the Blackfeet, the
Assinneboins or the Sioux; yet there are modes of stitching or
embroidering, in every tribe, which may at once enable the traveller,
who is familiar with their modes, to detect or distinguish the dress
of any tribe. These differences consist generally in the fashions of
constructing the head-dress, or of garnishing their dresses with the
porcupine quills, which they use in great profusion.

Amongst so many different and distinct nations, always at war with
each other, and knowing nothing at all of each other’s languages; and
amongst whom, fashions in dress seldom if ever change; it may seem
somewhat strange that we should find these people so nearly following,
or imitating each other, in the forms and modes of their dress and
ornaments. This must however, be admitted, and I think may be accounted
for in a manner, without raising the least argument in favour of the
theory of their having all sprung from one stock or one family; for in
their continual warfare, when chiefs or warriors fall, their clothes
and weapons usually fall into the possession of the victors, who wear
them; and the rest of the tribe would naturally more or less often
copy from or imitate them; and so also in their repeated councils or
treaties of peace, such articles of dress and other manufactures are
customarily exchanged, which are equally adopted by the other tribe;
and consequently, eventually lead to the similarity which we find
amongst the modes of dress, &c. of the different tribes.

The tunic or shirt of the Mandan men is very similar in shape to that
of the Blackfeet—made of two skins of deer or mountain-sheep, strung
with scalp-locks, beads, and ermine. The leggings, like those of the
other tribes, of whom I have spoken, are made of deer skins, and shaped
to fit the leg, embroidered with porcupine quills, and fringed with
scalps from their enemies heads. Their moccasins are made of buckskin,
and neatly ornamented with porcupine quills—over their shoulders (or
in other words, over one shoulder and passing under the other), they
very gracefully wear a robe from the young buffalo’s back, oftentimes
cut down to about half its original size, to make it handy and easy
for use. Many of these are also fringed on one side with scalp-locks;
and the flesh side of the skin curiously ornamented with pictured
representations of the creditable events and battles of their lives.

Their head-dresses are of various sorts, and many of them exceedingly
picturesque and handsome; generally made of war-eagles’ or ravens
quills and ermine. These are the most costly part of an Indian’s dress
in all this country, owing to the difficulty of procuring the quills
and the fur. The war-eagle being the “_rara avis_,” and the ermine the
rarest animal that is found in the country. The tail of a war-eagle
in this village, provided it is a perfect one, containing some six or
eight quills, which are denominated first-rate plumes, and suitable to
arrange in a head-dress, will purchase a tolerable good horse (horses,
however, are much cheaper here than they are in most other countries).
I have had abundant opportunities of learning the great value which
these people sometimes attach to such articles of dress and ornament,
as I have been purchasing a great many, which I intend to exhibit in
my Gallery of Indian Paintings, that the world may examine them for
themselves, and thereby be enabled to judge of the fidelity of my
works, and the ingenuity of Indian manufactures.

In these purchases I have often been surprised at the prices demanded
by them; and perhaps I could not recite a better instance of the kind,
than one which occurred here a few days since:—One of the chiefs, whom
I had painted at full length, in a beautiful costume, with head-dress
of war-eagles’ quills and ermine, extending quite down to his feet;
and whom I was soliciting for the purchase of his dress complete, was
willing to sell to me all but the head-dress; saying, that “he could
not part with that, as he would never be able to get quills and ermine
of so good a quality to make another like it.” I agreed with him,
however, for the rest of the dress, and importuned him, from day to
day, for the head-dress, until he at length replied, that, if I must
have it, he must have two horses for it; the bargain was instantly
struck—the horses were procured of the Traders at twenty-five dollars
each, and the head-dress secured for my Collection.

There is occasionally, a chief or a warrior of so extraordinary renown,
that he is allowed to wear horns on his head-dress, which give to his
aspect a strange and majestic effect. These are made of about a third
part of the horn of a buffalo bull; the horn having been split from end
to end, and a third part of it taken and shaved thin and light, and
highly polished. These are attached to the top of the head-dress on
each side, in the same place that they rise and stand on the head of
a buffalo; rising out of a mat of ermine skins and tails, which hang
over the top of the head-dress, somewhat in the form that the large and
profuse locks of hair hang and fall over the head of a buffalo bull.
See head-dress in +plates+ 14, 64, and 91, of three different tribes.

The same custom I have found observed amongst the Sioux,—the Crows—the
Blackfeet and Assinneboins, and it is one of so striking a character
as needs a few more words of observation. There is a peculiar meaning
or importance (in their estimation) to this and many other curious and
unaccountable appearances in the habits of Indians, upon which the
world generally look as things that are absurd and ridiculous, merely
because they are beyond the world’s comprehension, or because we do not
stop to enquire or learn their uses or meaning.

I find that the principal cause why we underrate and despise the
savage, is generally because we do not understand him; and the reason
why we are ignorant of him and his modes, is that we do not stop to
investigate—the world have been too much in the habit of looking
upon him as altogether inferior—as a beast, a brute; and unworthy
of more than a passing notice. If they stop long enough to form
an acquaintance, it is but to take advantage of his ignorance and
credulities—to rob him of the wealth and resources of his country;—to
make him drunk with whiskey, and visit him with abuses which in his
ignorance he never thought of. By this method his first visitors
entirely overlook and never understand the meaning of his thousand
interesting and characteristic customs; and at the same time, by
changing his native modes and habits of life, blot them out from the
view of the enquiring world for ever.

It is from the observance of a thousand little and apparently trivial
modes and tricks of Indian life, that the Indian character must be
learned; and, in fact, it is just the same with us if the subject were
reversed: excepting that the system of civilized life would furnish
ten apparently useless and ridiculous trifles to one which is found in
Indian life; and at least twenty to one which are purely nonsensical
and unmeaning.

The civilized world look upon a group of Indians, in their classic
dress, with their few and simple oddities, all of which have their
moral or meaning, and laugh at them excessively, because they are not
like ourselves—we ask, “why do the silly creatures wear such great
bunches of quills on their heads?—Such loads and streaks of paint upon
their bodies—and bear’s grease? abominable!” and a thousand other
equally silly questions, without ever stopping to think that Nature
taught them to do so—and that they all have some definite importance
or meaning which an Indian could explain to us at once, if he were
asked and felt disposed to do so—that each quill in his head stood,
in the eyes of his whole tribe, as the symbol of an enemy who had
fallen by his hand—that every streak of red paint covered a wound
which he had got in honourable combat—and that the bear’s grease with
which he carefully anoints his body every morning, from head to foot,
cleanses and purifies the body, and protects his skin from the bite of
mosquitoes, and at the same time preserves him from colds and coughs
which are usually taken through the pores of the skin.

At the same time, an Indian looks among the civilized world, no doubt,
with equal, if not much greater, astonishment, at our apparently, as
well as _really_, ridiculous customs and fashions; but he laughs not,
nor ridicules, nor questions,—for his natural good sense and good
manners forbid him,—until he is reclining about the fire-side of his
wigwam companions, when he vents forth his just criticisms upon the
learned world, who are a rich and just theme for Indian criticism and
Indian gossip.

An Indian will not ask a white man the reason why he does not oil his
skin with bears’ grease, or why he does not paint his body—or why he
wears a hat on his head, or why he has buttons on the back part of
his coat, where they never can be used—or why he wears whiskers, and
a shirt collar up to his eyes—or why he sleeps with his head towards
the fire instead of his feet—why he walks with his toes out instead of
turning them in—or why it is that hundreds of white folks will flock
and crowd round a table to see an Indian eat—but he will go home to his
wigwam fire-side, and “make the welkin ring” with jokes and fun upon
the ignorance and folly of the knowing world.

A wild Indian thrown into the civilized atmosphere will see a man
occasionally moving in society, wearing a cocked hat; and another with
a laced coat and gold or silver epaulettes upon his shoulders, without
knowing or enquiring the meaning of them, or the objects for which they
are worn. Just so a white man travels amongst a wild and untaught tribe
of Indians, and sees occasionally one of them parading about their
village, with a head-dress of eagles’ quills and ermine, and elevated
above it a pair of beautifully polished buffalo horns; and just as
ignorant is he also, of their meaning or importance; and more so, for
the first will admit the presumption that epaulettes and cocked hats
amongst the civilized world, are made for some important purpose,—but
the latter will presume that horns on an Indian’s head are nothing more
nor less (nor can they be in their estimation), than Indian nonsense
and stupidity.

This brings us to the “corned crest” again, and if the poor Indian
scans epaulettes and cocked hats, without enquiring their meaning,
and explaining them to his tribe, it is no reason why I should have
associated with the noble dignitaries of these western regions, with
horns and ermine on their heads, and then to have introduced the
subject without giving some further clue to their importance and
meaning. For me, this negligence would be doubly unpardonable, as I
travel, not to _trade_ but to _herald_ the Indian and his dying customs
to posterity.

This custom then, which I have before observed belongs to all the
north-western tribes, is one no doubt of very ancient origin, having
a purely classic meaning. No one wears the head-dress surmounted with
horns except the dignitaries who are very high in authority, and whose
exceeding valour, worth, and power is admitted by all the nation.

He may wear them, however, who is not a _chief_; but a brave, or
warrior of such remarkable character, that he is esteemed universally
in the tribe, as a man whose “voice is as loud in council” as that of a
chief of the first grade, and consequently his _power_ as great.

This head-dress with horns is used only on certain occasions, and they
are very seldom. When foreign chiefs, Indian agents, or other important
personages visit a tribe; or at war parades, at the celebration of
a victory, at public festivals, &c. they are worn; but on no other
occasions—unless, sometimes, when a chief sees fit to lead a war-party
to battle, he decorates his head with this symbol of power, to
stimulate his men; and throws himself into the foremost of the battle,
inviting his enemy to concentrate their shafts upon him.

The horns on these head-dresses are but loosely attached at the bottom,
so that they easily fall back or forward, according as the head is
inclined forward or backward; and by an ingenious motion of the head,
which is so slight as to be almost imperceptible—they are made to
balance to and fro, and sometimes, one backward and the other forward
like a horse’s ears, giving a vast deal of expression and force of
character, to the appearance of the chief who is wearing them. This,
reader, is a remarkable instance (like hundreds of others), for its
striking similarity to _Jewish customs_, to the kerns (or keren, in
Hebrew), the horns worn by the Abysinian chiefs and Hebrews, as a
_symbol of power_ and command; worn at great parades and celebrations
of victories.

“The false prophet Zedekiah, made him horns of iron” (1 Kings xxii.
11). “Lift not your horns on high; speak not with a stiff neck” (Ps.
lxxv. 5).

This last citation seems so exactly to convey to my mind the mode of
raising and changing the position of the horns by a motion of the head,
as I have above described, that I am irresistibly led to believe that
this custom is now practiced amongst these tribes very nearly as it
was amongst the Jews; and that it has been, like many other customs of
which I shall speak more in future epistles, handed down and preserved
with very little innovation or change from that ancient people.

The reader will see this custom exemplified in the portrait of
Mah-to-toh-pa (+plate+ 64). This man, although the second chief, was
the only man in the nation who was allowed to wear the horns; and
all, I found, looked upon him as the leader, who had the power to
lead all the warriors in time of war; and that, in consequence of the
extraordinary battles which he had fought.




                             LETTER—No. 15.

                    MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI.


A week or more has elapsed since the date of my last Letter, and
nothing as yet of the great and curious event—or the _Mandan religious
ceremony_. There is evidently much preparation making for it,
however; and from what I can learn, no one in the nation, save the
_medicine-men_, have any knowledge of the exact day on which it is to
commence. I am informed by the chiefs, that it takes place as soon as
the willow-tree is in full leaf; for, say they, “the twig which the
bird brought in was a willow bough, and had full-grown leaves on it.”
So it seems that this celebration has some relation to the Flood.

This great occasion is close at hand, and will, undoubtedly, commence
in a few days; in the meantime I will give a few notes and memorandums,
which I have made since my last.

I have been continually at work with my brush, with fine and
picturesque subjects before me; and from the strange, whimsical,
and superstitious notions which they have of an art so novel and
unaccountable to them, I have been initiated into many of their
mysteries—have witnessed many very curious incidents, and preserved
several anecdotes, some of which I must relate.

Perhaps nothing ever more completely astonished these people than the
operations of my _brush_. The art of portrait-painting was a subject
entirely new to them, and of course, unthought of; and my appearance
here has commenced a new era in the arcana of _medicine_ or mystery.
Soon after arriving here, I commenced and finished the portraits of
the two principal chiefs. This was done without having awakened the
curiosity of the villagers, as they had heard nothing of what was going
on, and even the chiefs themselves seemed to be ignorant of my designs,
until the pictures were completed. No one else was admitted into my
lodge during the operation; and when finished, it was exceedingly
amusing to see them mutually recognizing each other’s likeness, and
assuring each other of the striking resemblance which they bore to the
originals. Both of these pressed their hand over their mouths awhile
in dead silence (a custom amongst most tribes, when anything surprises
them very much); looking attentively upon the portraits and myself, and
upon the palette and colours with which these unaccountable effects had
been produced.

They then walked up to me in the most gentle manner, taking me in
turn by the hand, with a firm grip; with head and eyes inclined
downwards, and in a tone a little above a whisper—pronounced the words
“te-ho-pe-nee Wash-ee!” and walked off.

Readers, at that moment I was christened with a new and a great
name—one by which I am now familiarly hailed, and talked of in this
village; and no doubt will be, as long as traditions last in this
strange community.

That moment conferred an honour on me, which you as yet do not
understand. I took the degree (not of Doctor of Laws, nor Bachelor of
Arts) of Master of Arts—of mysteries—of magic, and of hocus pocus.
I was recognized in that short sentence as a “great _medicine white
man_;” and since that time, have been regularly installed _medicine_ or
mystery, which is the most honourable degree that could be conferred
upon me here; and I now hold a place amongst the most eminent and
envied personages, the doctors and conjurati of this titled community.

Te-ho-pe-nee Wash-ee (or medicine white man) is the name I now go by,
and it will prove to me, no doubt, of more value than gold, for I have
been called upon and feasted by the doctors, who are all mystery-men;
and it has been an easy and successful passport already to many strange
and mysterious places; and has put me in possession of a vast deal of
curious and interesting information, which I am sure I never should
have otherwise learned. I am daily growing in the estimation of the
medicine-men and the chiefs; and by assuming all the gravity and
circumspection due from so high a dignitary (and even considerably
more); and endeavouring to perform now and then some art or trick that
is unfathomable, I am in hopes of supporting my standing, until the
great annual ceremony commences; on which occasion, I may possibly be
allowed a seat in the _medicine-lodge_ by the doctors, who are the sole
conductors of this great source and fountain of all priestcraft and
conjuration in this country.

After I had finished the portraits of the two chiefs, and they had
returned to their wigwams, and deliberately seated themselves by their
respective fire-sides, and silently smoked a pipe or two (according
to an universal custom), they gradually began to tell what had taken
place; and at length crowds of gaping listeners, with mouths wide open,
thronged their lodges; and a throng of women and girls were about my
house, and through every crack and crevice I could see their glistening
eyes, which were piercing my hut in a hundred places, from a natural
and restless propensity, a curiosity to see what was going on within.
An hour or more passed in this way, and the soft and silken throng
continually increased, until some hundreds of them were clung, and
piled about my wigwam like a swarm of bees hanging on the front and
sides of their hive.

During this time, not a man made his appearance about the
premises—after awhile, however, they could be seen, folded in their
robes, gradually _siding_ up towards the lodge, with a silly look upon
their faces, which confessed at once that curiosity was leading them
reluctantly, where their pride checked and forbade them to go. The
rush soon after became general, and the chiefs and medicine-men took
possession of my room, placing _soldiers_ (braves with spears in their
hands) at the door, admitting no one, but such as were allowed by the
chiefs, to come in.

Monsr. Kipp (the agent of the Fur Company, who has lived here eight
years, and to whom, for his politeness and hospitality, I am much
indebted), at this time took a seat with the chiefs, and, speaking
their language fluently, he explained to them my views and the objects
for which I was painting these portraits; and also expounded to them
the manner in which they were made,—at which they seemed all to be very
much pleased. The necessity at this time of exposing the portraits to
the view of the crowds who were assembled around the house, became
imperative, and they were held up together over the door, so that
the whole village had a chance to see and recognize their chiefs.
The effect upon so mixed a multitude, who as yet had heard no way of
accounting for them, was novel and really laughable. The likenesses
were instantly recognized, and many of the gaping multitude commenced
yelping; some were stamping off in the jarring dance—others were
singing, and others again were crying—hundreds covered their mouths
with their hands and were mute; others, indignant, drove their spears
frightfully into the ground, and some threw a reddened arrow at the
sun, and went home to their wigwams.

The pictures seen,—the next curiosity was to see the man who made them,
and I was called forth. Readers! if you have any imagination, save me
the trouble of painting this scene.    *    *    *    *    *    *    *
*    *    I stepped forth, and was instantly hemmed in in the throng.
Women were gaping and gazing—and warriors and braves were offering me
their hands,—whilst little boys and girls, by dozens, were struggling
through the crowd to touch me with the ends of their fingers; and
whilst I was engaged, from the waist upwards, in fending off the throng
and shaking hands, my legs were assailed (not unlike the nibbling of
little fish, when I have been standing in deep water) by children, who
were creeping between the legs of the bystanders for the curiosity or
honour of touching me with the end of their finger. The eager curiosity
and expression of astonishment with which they gazed upon me, plainly
shewed that they looked upon me as some strange and unaccountable
being. They pronounced me the greatest _medicine-man_ in the world;
for they said I had made _living beings_,—they said they could see
their chiefs alive, in two places—those that I had made were a _little_
alive—they could see their eyes move—could see them smile and laugh,
and that if they could laugh they could certainly speak, if they should
try, and they must therefore have _some life_ in them.

The squaws generally agreed, that they had discovered life enough in
them to render my _medicine_ too great for the Mandans; saying that
such an operation could not be performed without taking away from the
original something of his existence, which I put in the picture, and
they could see it move, could see it stir.

This curtailing of the natural existence, for the purpose of
instilling life into the secondary one, they decided to be an useless
and destructive operation, and one which was calculated to do great
mischief in their happy community; and they commenced a mournful and
doleful chaunt against me, crying and weeping bitterly through the
village, proclaiming me a most “dangerous man; one who could make
living persons by looking at them; and at the same time, could, as
a matter of course, destroy life in the same way, if I chose. That
my medicine was dangerous to their lives, and that I must leave the
village immediately. That bad luck would happen to those whom I
painted—that I was to take a part of the existence of those whom I
painted, and carry it home with me amongst the white people, and that
when they died they would never sleep quiet in their graves.”

In this way the women and some old quack medicine-men together,
had succeeded in raising an opposition against me; and the reasons
they assigned were so plausible and so exactly suited for their
superstitious feelings, that they completely succeeded in exciting
fears and a general panic in the minds of a number of chiefs who had
agreed to sit for their portraits, and my operations were, of course,
for several days completely at a stand. A grave council was held on
the subject from day to day, and there seemed great difficulty in
deciding what was to be done with me and the dangerous art which I was
practicing; and which had far exceeded their original expectations.
I finally got admittance to their sacred conclave, and assured them
that I was but a man like themselves,—that my art had no _medicine_ or
mystery about it, but could be learned by any of them if they would
practice it as long as I had—that my intentions towards them were of
the most friendly kind, and that in the country where I lived, brave
men never allowed their squaws to frighten them with their foolish
whims and stories. They all immediately arose, shook me by the hand,
and dressed themselves for their pictures. After this, there was no
further difficulty about sitting; all were ready to be painted,—the
squaws were silent, and my painting-room a continual resort for the
chiefs, and braves, and medicine-men; where they waited with impatience
for the completion of each one’s picture,—that they could decide as to
the likeness as it came from under the brush; that they could laugh,
and yell, and sing a new song, and smoke a fresh pipe to the health and
success of him who had just been safely delivered from the hands and
the mystic operation of the “_white medicine_.”

In each of these operations, as they successfully took place, I
observed that a pipe or two were well filled, and as soon as I
commenced painting, the chiefs and braves, who sat around the sides
of the lodge, commenced smoking for the success of the picture (and
probably as much or more so for the safe deliverance of the sitter from
harm while under the operation); and so they continued to pass the
pipe around until the portrait was completed.

In this way I progressed with my portraits, stopping occasionally
very suddenly as if something was wrong, and taking a tremendous puff
or two at the pipe, and streaming the smoke through my nostrils,
exhibiting in my looks and actions an evident relief; enabling me to
proceed with more facility and success,—by flattering and complimenting
each one on his good looks after I had got it done, and taking them
according to rank, or standing, making it a matter of honour with them,
which pleased them exceedingly, and gave me and my art the stamp of
respectability at once.

I was then taken by the arm by the chiefs, and led to their lodges,
where feasts were prepared for me in elegant style, _i. e._ in the
best manner which this country affords; and being led by the arm, and
welcomed to them by _gentlemen_ of high and exalted feelings, rendered
them in my estimation truly elegant.

I was waited upon in due form and ceremony by the _medicine-men_, who
received me upon the old adage, “Similis simili gaudet.” I was invited
to a feast, and they presented me a _she-shee-quoi_, or a doctor’s
rattle, and also a magical wand, or a doctor’s staff, strung with
claws of the grizzly bear, with hoofs of the antelope—with ermine—with
wild sage and bat’s wings—and perfumed withal with the _choice_ and
_savoury_ odour of the pole-cat—a dog was sacrificed and hung by
the legs over my wigwam, and I was therefore and thereby initiated
into (and countenanced in the practice of) the arcana of medicine
or mystery, and considered a Fellow of the Extraordinary Society of
_Conjurati_.

Since this signal success and good fortune in my operations, things
have gone on very pleasantly, and I have had a great deal of amusement.
Some altercation has taken place, however, amongst the chiefs and
braves, with regard to standing or rank, of which they are exceedingly
jealous; and they must sit (if at all) in regular order, according to
that rank; the trouble is all settled at last, however, and I have had
no want of subjects, though a great many have become again alarmed,
and are unwilling to sit, for fear, as some say, that they will die
prematurely if painted; and as others say, that if they are painted,
the picture will live after they are dead, and they cannot sleep quiet
in their graves.

I have had several most remarkable occurrences in my painting-room, of
this kind, which have made me some everlasting enemies here; though
the minds and feelings of the chiefs and medicine-men have not been
affected by them. There has been three or four instances where proud
and aspiring young men have been in my lodge, and after gazing at the
portraits of the head chief across the room (which sits looking them
in the eyes), have raised their hands before their faces and walked
around to the side of the lodge, on the right or left, from whence to
take a long and fair side-look at the chief, instead of staring him
full in the face (which is a most unpardonable offence in all Indian
tribes); and after having got in that position, and cast their eyes
again upon the portrait which was yet looking them full in the face,
have thrown their robes over their heads and bolted out of the wigwam,
filled equally with astonishment and indignation; averring, as they
always will in a sullen mood, that they “saw the eyes move,”—that as
they walked around the room “the eyes of the portrait followed them.”
With these unfortunate gentlemen, repeated efforts have been made by
the Traders, and also by the chiefs and doctors, who understand the
illusion, to convince them of their error, by explaining the mystery;
but they will not hear to any explanation whatever; saying, that “what
they see with their eyes is always evidence enough for them;” that they
always “believe their own eyes sooner than a hundred tongues,” and all
efforts to get them a second time to my room, or into my company in any
place, have proved entirely unsuccessful.

I had trouble brewing also the other day from another source; one of
the “_medicines_” commenced howling and haranguing around my domicil,
amongst the throng that was outside, proclaiming that all who were
inside and being painted were fools and would soon die; and very
materially affecting thereby my popularity. I however sent for him
and called him in the next morning, when I was alone, having only the
interpreter with me; telling him that I had had my eye upon him for
several days, and had been so well pleased with his looks, that I had
taken great pains to find out his history, which had been explained by
all as one of a most extraordinary kind, and his character and standing
in his tribe as worthy of my particular notice; and that I had several
days since resolved that as soon as I had practiced my hand long enough
upon the others, to get the stiffness out of it (after paddling my
canoe so far as I had) and make it to work easily and successfully,
I would begin on his portrait, which I was then prepared to commence
on that day, and that I felt as if I could do him justice. He shook
me by the hand, giving me the “Doctor’s grip,” and beckoned me to sit
down, which I did, and we smoked a pipe together. After this was over,
he told me, that “he had no inimical feelings towards me, although he
had 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 children 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 me well, and they have not asked me to come in and be
_made alive_ with paints—my friend, I am glad that my people have told
you who I am—my heart is glad—I will go to my 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
palette, and whistled away the time until twelve o’clock, before he
made his appearance; having used the whole of the fore-part of the day
at his toilette, arranging his dress and ornamenting his body for his
picture.

[Illustration: 55]

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-ha (the
old bear, +plate+ 55), with a train of his own profession, who seated
themselves around him; and also a number of boys, whom it was requested
should remain with him, and whom I supposed it possible might have been
pupils, whom he was instructing in the mysteries of _materia medica_
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 I 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 communities, a kind of nondescript,
with whom I have been somewhat annoyed, and still more amused, since I
came to this village, of whom (or of _which_) I shall give some account
in my next epistle.




                             LETTER—No. 16.

                    MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI.


Besides chiefs, and braves and doctors, of whom I have heretofore
spoken, there is yet another character 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 _beau_ or _dandy_. Such
personages may be seen on every pleasant day, strutting and parading
around the village in the most beautiful and unsoiled dresses, without
the honourable trophies however of scalp locks and claws of the grizzly
bear, attached to their costume, for with such things they deal not.
They are not peculiarly anxious to hazard their lives in equal and
honourable combat with the one, or disposed to cross the path of the
other; but generally remain about the village, to take care of the
women, and attire themselves in the skins of such animals as they can
easily kill, without seeking the rugged cliffs for the war-eagle,
or visiting the haunts of the grizzly bear. They plume themselves
with swan’s-down and quills of ducks, with braids and plaits of
sweet-scented grass and other harmless and unmeaning ornaments, which
have 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 denominated “faint hearts” or “old women” by the whole tribe, and
are therefore but little respected. 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 share of the world’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-brush
attached to the wrist of the same hand, and underneath them a white and
beautiful and soft pleasure-saddle, ornamented with porcupine quills
and ermine, parading through and lounging about the village for an hour
or so, when they will cautiously bend their course to the suburbs of
the town, where they will sit or recline upon their horses for an hour
or two, overlooking the beautiful 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 dresses and best attitudes, as if in hopes that I would select
them as models, for my canvass. It was natural that I should do so,
for their costume and personal appearance was entirely more beautiful
than anything else to be seen in the village. My plans were laid,
and one day when I had got through with all of the head men, who
were willing to sit to be painted, and there were two or three of
the chiefs lounging in my room, I stepped to the door and tapped one
of these fellows on the shoulder, who took the hint, and stepped in,
well-pleased and delighted with the signal and honourable notice I had
at length taken of him and his beautiful dress. Readers, you cannot
imagine what was the expression of gratitude which beamed forth in
this poor fellow’s face, and how high his heart beat with joy and
pride at the idea of my selecting him to be immortal, alongside of the
chiefs and worthies whose portraits he saw arranged around the room;
and by which honour he, undoubtedly, considered 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 neatly, that they
were almost as soft and as white as Canton crape—around the bottom and
the sides it was trimmed with ermine, and porcupine quills of beautiful
dyes garnished it in a hundred parts;—his hair which was long, and
spread over his back and shoulders, extending nearly to the ground, was
all combed back and parted 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
nought to shock the finest, chastest intellect.

I 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 informal leave of my cabin. I was apprehensive
of their displeasure, though I continued my work; and in a few moments
the interpreter came furiously into my room, addressing me thus:—“My
God, Sir! this never will do; you have given great offence to the
chiefs—they have made complaint of your conduct to me—they tell me
this is a worthless fellow—a man of no account in the nation, and if
you paint his picture, you must instantly destroy theirs; you have no
alternative, my dear Sir—and the quicker this chap is out of your lodge
the better.”

The same matter was explained to my sitter by the interpreter, when
he picked up 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 Mandan braves and worthies value the honour
of being painted; and so little do they value a man, however lavishly
Nature may have bestowed her master 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 bears), the
second chief of the nation, and the most popular man of the Mandans—a
high-minded and gallant warrior, as well as a polite and polished
gentleman. Since I painted his portrait, as I before described, I
have received at his hands many marked and signal attentions; some
of which I must name to you, as the very relation of them will put
you in possession of many little forms and modes of Indian life, that
otherwise might not have been noted.

About a week since, this noble fellow stepped into my painting-room
about twelve o’clock in the day, in full and splendid dress, and
passing his arm through mine, pointed the way, and led me in the most
gentlemanly manner, through the village and into his own lodge, where
a feast was prepared in a careful manner and waiting our arrival. The
lodge in which he 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, resting 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, two of which were served in wooden bowls, and the third in
an earthen vessel of their own manufacture, somewhat in shape of a
bread-tray in our own country. This last contained a quantity of
_pem-i-can_ and _marrow-fat_; and one of the former held a fine
brace of buffalo ribs, delightfully roasted; and the other was filled
with a kind of paste or pudding, made of the flour of the “_pomme
blanche_,” as the French call it, a delicious turnip of the prairie,
finely flavoured with the buffalo berries, which are collected in great
quantities in this country, and used with divers dishes in cooking,
as we in civilized countries use dried currants, which they very much
resemble.

[Illustration: 62]

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 whiff or
two while he held the stem in his hands. This done, he laid down the
pipe, and drawing his knife from his belt, cut 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
drawing 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 this strange land. In all
tribes in these western regions it is an invariable rule that a chief
never eats with his guests invited to a feast; but while they eat, he
sits by, at their service, and ready to wait upon them; deliberately
charging and lighting the pipe which is to be passed around after the
feast is over. Such was the case in the present instance, and while
I was eating, Mah-to-toh-pa sat cross-legged before me, cleaning his
pipe and preparing it for a cheerful smoke when I had finished my meal.
For this ceremony I observed he was making unusual preparation, and I
observed as I ate, that after he had taken enough of the k’nick-k’neck
or bark of the red willow, from his pouch, he rolled out of it also a
piece of the “_castor_,” which it is customary amongst these folks to
carry in their tobacco-sack to give it a flavour; and, shaving off a
small quantity of it, mixed it with the bark, with which he charged his
pipe. This done, he drew also from his sack a small parcel containing a
fine powder, which was made of dried buffalo dung, a little of which he
spread over the top, (according also to custom,) which was like tinder,
having no other effect than that of lighting the pipe with ease and
satisfaction. My appetite satiated, I straightened up, and with a whiff
the pipe was lit, and we enjoyed together for a quarter of an hour the
most delightful exchange of good feelings, amid clouds of smoke and
pantomimic signs and gesticulations.

The 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 bread in the civilized world. It is made of buffalo meat
dried very hard, and afterwards pounded in a large wooden mortar until
it is made nearly as fine as sawdust, then packed in this dry state in
bladders or sacks of skin, and is easily carried to any part of the
world in good order. “Marrow-fat” is collected by the Indians from
the buffalo bones which they break to pieces, yielding a prodigious
quantity of marrow, which is boiled out and put into buffalo bladders
which have been distended; and after it cools, becomes quite hard like
tallow, and has the appearance, and very nearly the flavour, of the
richest yellow butter. At a feast, chunks of this marrow-fat are cut
off and placed in a tray or bowl, with the pemican, and eaten together;
which we civilized folks in these regions consider a very good
substitute 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 a familiar part of the culinary furniture of
every Mandan lodge, and are manufactured by the women of this tribe
in great quantities, and modelled into a thousand forms and tastes.
They are made by the hands of the women, from a tough black clay, and
baked in kilns which are made for the purpose, and are nearly equal in
hardness to our own manufacture of pottery; though they have not yet
got the art of glazing, which would be to them a most valuable secret.
They make them so strong and serviceable, however, that they hang them
over the fire as we do our iron pots, and boil their meat in them with
perfect success. I have seen some few specimens of such manufacture,
which have been dug up in Indian mounds and tombs in the southern and
middle states, placed in our Eastern Museums and looked upon as a great
wonder, when here this novelty is at once done away with, and the whole
mystery; where women can be seen handling and using them by hundreds,
and they can be seen every day in the summer also, moulding them into
many fanciful forms, and passing them through the kiln where they are
hardened.

Whilst sitting at this feast the wigwam was as silent as death,
although we were not alone in it. This chief, like most others, had a
plurality of wives, and all of them (some six or seven) were seated
around the sides of the lodge, upon robes or mats placed upon the
ground, and not allowed to speak, though they were 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 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.




                             LETTER—No. 17.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


I mentioned in the foregoing epistle, that the chiefs of the Mandans
frequently have a plurality of wives. Such is the custom amongst 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 doors, and entertain, for the support of his popularity) to
have in his wigwam a sufficient number of such handmaids or menials to
perform the numerous duties and drudgeries of so large and 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 the 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 affluent and envied man in the tribe; for his table is most
bountifully supplied, and his lodge the most abundantly furnished with
the luxuries of civilized manufacture, who has at the year’s end the
greatest number of robes to vend to the Fur Company.

The manual labour amongst savages is all done by the women; and as
there are no daily labourers or persons who will “_hire out_” to labour
for another, it becomes necessary for him who requires more than the
labour or services of one, to add to the number by legalizing and
compromising by the ceremony of marriage, his stock of labourers; who
can thus, and thus alone, be easily enslaved, and the results of their
labour turned to good account.

There is yet the other inducement, which probably is more effective
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 by temptations which he considers it would be
unnatural to resist, where no law or regulation of society stands
in the way of his enjoyment. Such a custom amongst savage nations
can easily be excused too, and we are bound to excuse it, when
we behold man in a state of nature, as he was made, following a
natural inclination, which is sanctioned by ancient custom and by
their religion, without a law or regulation of their society to
discountenance it; and when, at the same time, such an accumulation of
a man’s household, instead of quadrupling his expenses (as would be
the case in the civilized world), actually becomes his wealth, as the
results of their labour abundantly secure to him all the necessaries
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-field is almost the only road, their warriors
are killed off to that extent, that in many instances two and sometimes
three women to a man are found in a tribe. In such instances I have
found that the custom of polygamy has kindly helped the community to an
evident relief from a cruel and prodigious calamity.

The instances of which I have above spoken, are generally confined to
the chiefs and medicine-men; though there is no regulation prohibiting
a poor or obscure individual from marrying several wives, other than
the personal difficulties which lie between him and the hand which he
wishes in vain to get, for want of sufficient celebrity in society, or
from a still more frequent objection, that of his inability (from want
of worldly goods) to deal in the customary way with the fathers of the
girls whom he would appropriate to his own household.

There are very few instances indeed, to be seen in these regions, where
a poor or ordinary citizen has more than one wife; but amongst chiefs
and braves of great reputation, and doctors, it is common to see some
six or eight 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 the nation,
and enables them, with the influence of their new family connexions,
to carry on successfully their business transactions with them. The
young women of the best families only can aspire to such an elevation;
and the most of them are exceedingly ambitious for such a connexion,
inasmuch as they are certain of a delightful exemption from the slavish
duties that devolve upon them when married under other circumstances;
and expect to be, as they generally are, allowed to lead a life of ease
and idleness, covered with mantles of blue and scarlet cloth—with beads
and trinkets, and ribbons, in which they flounce and flirt about, the
envied and tinselled belles of every tribe.

These connexions, however, can scarcely be called marriages, for I
believe they are generally entered into without the form or solemnizing
ceremony of a marriage, and on the part of the father of the girls,
conducted purely as a mercenary or business transaction; in which
they are very expert, and practice a deal of shrewdness in exacting
an adequate price from a purchaser whom they consider possessed of
so large and so rich a stock of the world’s goods; and who they deem
abundantly able to pay liberally for so delightful a commodity.

Almost every Trader and every clerk who commences in the business of
this country, speedily enters into such an arrangement, which is done
with as little ceremony as he would bargain for a horse, and just as
unceremoniously 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 espousal.

From the enslaved and degraded condition in which the women are held in
the Indian country, the world would naturally think that theirs must
be a community formed of incongruous and unharmonizing materials; and
consequently destitute of the fine, 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
were 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 I am scribbling about the looks and usages of the Indians
who are about me and under my eye; and I must not digress too much into
general remarks, lest I lose sight of those who are near me, and the
first to be heralded.

Such, then, are the Mandans—their women are beautiful and modest,—and
amongst the respectable families, virtue is as highly cherished and
as inapproachable, as in any society whatever; yet at the same time a
chief may marry a dozen wives if he pleases, and so may a white man;
and if either wishes to marry the most beautiful and modest girl in the
tribe, she is valued only equal, perhaps, to two horses, a gun with
powder and ball for a year, five or six pounds of beads, a couple of
gallons of whiskey, and a handful of awls.

The girls of this tribe, like those of most of these north-western
tribes, marry at the age of twelve or fourteen, and some at the age of
eleven years; and their beauty, from this fact, as well as from the
slavish life they lead, soon after marriage vanishes. Their occupations
are almost continual, and they seem to go industriously at them, as if
from choice or inclination, without a murmur.

The principal occupations of the women in this village, consist in
procuring wood and water, in cooking, dressing robes and other skins,
in drying meat and wild fruit, and raising corn (maize). The Mandans
are somewhat of agriculturists, as they raise a great deal of corn and
some pumpkins and squashes. 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 season is one of great
festivity with them, and one of much importance. The greater part of
their crop is eaten during these festivals, and the remainder is
gathered and dried on the cob, before it has ripened, and packed away
in “_caches_” (as the French call them), holes dug in the ground, some
six or seven feet deep, the insides of which are somewhat in the form
of a jug, and tightly closed at the top. The corn, and even dried meat
and pemican, are placed in these _caches_, being packed tight around
the sides., with prairie grass, and effectually preserved through the
severest winters.

Corn and dried meat are generally laid in in the fall, in sufficient
quantities to support them through the winter. These are the principal
articles of food during that long and inclement season; and in addition
to them, they oftentimes have in store great quantities of dried
squashes and dried “_pommes blanches_,” a kind of turnip which grows in
great abundance in these regions, and of which I have before spoken.
These are dried in great quantities, and pounded into a sort of meal,
and cooked with the dried meat and corn. Great quantities also of wild
fruit of different kinds are dried and laid away in store for the
winter season, such as buffalo berries, service berries, strawberries,
and wild plums.

The buffalo meat, however, is the great staple and “staff of life” in
this country, and seldom (if ever) fails to afford them an abundant and
wholesome 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 these animals, through 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 taken off, and to fall to eating as he pleases.
Such is an unvarying custom amongst the North American Indians, and I
very much doubt, whether the civilized world have in their institutions
any system which can properly be called more humane and charitable.
Every man, woman, or child in Indian communities is allowed to enter
any one’s lodge, and even that of the chief of the nation, and eat when
they 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 everyone will share with him as long as there is anything to eat.
He, 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-legged,
or rather with their ancles crossed in front of them, and both feet
drawn close under their bodies; or, which is very often the case also,
take their meals in a reclining posture, with the legs thrown out, and
the body resting on one elbow and fore-arm, which are under them. The
dishes from which they eat are invariably on the ground or floor of
the lodge, and the group resting on buffalo robes or mats of various
structure and manufacture.

The position in which the women sit at their meals and on other
occasions is different from that of the men, and one which they
take and rise from again, with great ease and much grace, by merely
bending the knees both together, inclining the body back and the head
and shoulders quite forward, they squat entirely down to the ground,
inclining both feet either to the right or the left. In this position
they always rest while eating, and it is 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
beautiful or ever so hungry, are not allowed to sit in the same group
with the men while at their meals. So far as I have yet travelled in
the Indian country, I never have seen an Indian woman eating with
her husband. Men form the first group at the banquet, and women, and
children and dogs all come together 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 universally believed, that the Indians are “enormous eaters;”
but comparatively speaking, I assure my readers that this is an error.
I venture to say that there are no persons on earth who practice
greater prudence and self-denial, than the men do (amongst the wild
Indians), who are constantly in war and in the chase, or in their
athletic sports and exercises; for all of which they are excited by
the highest ideas of pride and honour, and every kind of excess is
studiously avoided; and for a very great part of their lives, the most
painful abstinence is enforced upon themselves, for the purpose of
preparing their bodies and their limbs for these extravagant exertions.
Many a man who has been a few weeks along the frontier, amongst the
drunken, naked and beggared part of the Indian race, and run home
and written a book on Indians, has, no doubt, often seen them eat to
beastly excess; and he has seen them also guzzle whiskey (and perhaps
_sold_ it to them) till he has seen them glutted and besotted, without
will or energy to move; and many and thousands of such things can
always be seen, where white people have made beggars of them, and they
have nothing to do but lie under a fence and beg a whole week to get
meat and whiskey enough for one feast and one carouse; but amongst the
wild Indians in this country there are no beggars—no drunkards—and
every man, from a beautiful natural precept, studies to keep his body
and mind in such a healthy shape and condition as will at all times
enable him to use his weapons in self-defence, or struggle for the
prize in their manly games.

As I before observed, these men generally eat but twice a day, and many
times not more than once, and those meals are light and simple compared
with the meals that are swallowed in the civilized world; and by the
very people also, who sit at the festive board three times a day,
making a jest of the Indian for his eating, when they actually guzzle
more liquids, besides their eating, than would fill the stomach of an
Indian.

There are, however, many seasons and occasions in the year with all
Indians, when they fast for several days in succession; and others
where they can _get_ nothing to eat; and at such times (their habits
are such) they may be seen to commence with an enormous meal, and
because they do so, it is an insufficient reason why we should for ever
remain under so egregious an error with regard to a single custom of
these people.

I have seen so many of these, and lived with them, and travelled with
them, and oftentimes felt as if I should starve to death on an equal
allowance, that I am fully convinced I am correct in saying that the
North American Indians, taking them in the aggregate, even where they
have an abundance to subsist on, eat less than any civilized population
of equal numbers, that I have ever travelled amongst.

Their mode of curing and preserving the buffalo meat is somewhat
curious, and in fact it is almost incredible also; for it is all cured
or dried in the sun, without the aid of salt or smoke! The method of
doing this is the same amongst all the tribes, from this to the Mexican
Provinces, and is as follows:—The choicest parts of the flesh from the
buffalo are cut out by the squaws, and carried home on their backs or
on horses, and there cut “_across the grain_,” in such a manner as will
take alternately the layers of lean and fat; and having prepared it
all in this way, in strips about half an inch in thickness, it is hung
up by hundreds and thousands of pounds on poles resting on crotches,
out of the reach of dogs or wolves, and exposed to the rays of the sun
for several days, when it becomes so effectually dried, that it can
be carried to any part of the world without damage. This seems almost
an unaccountable thing, and the more so, as it is done in the hottest
months of the year, and also in all the different latitudes of an
Indian country.

So singular a fact as this can only be accounted for, I consider, on
the ground of the extraordinary rarity and purity of the air which
we meet with in these vast tracts of country, which are now properly
denominated “the great buffalo plains,” a series of exceedingly
elevated plateaus of _steppes_ or _prairies_, lying at and near the
base of the Rocky Mountains.

It is a fact then, which I presume will be new to most of the world,
that meat can be cured in the sun without the aid of smoke or salt;
and it is a fact equally true and equally surprising also, that none
of these tribes use salt in any way, although their country abounds
in salt springs; and in many places, in the frequent walks of the
Indian, the prairie may be seen, for miles together, covered with an
incrustation of salt as white as the drifted snow.

I have, in travelling with Indians, encamped by such places, where they
have cooked and eaten their meat, when I have been unable to prevail on
them to use salt in any quantity whatever. The Indians cook their meat
more than the civilized people do, and I have long since learned, from
necessity, that meat thus cooked can easily be eaten and relished too,
without salt or other condiment.

The fact above asserted applies exclusively to those tribes of Indians
which I have found in their primitive state, living entirely on meat;
but everywhere along our Frontier, where the game of the country
has long since been chiefly destroyed, and these people have become
semi-civilized, raising and eating, as we do, a variety of vegetable
food, they use (and no doubt require), a great deal of salt; and in
many instances use it even to destructive excess.




                             LETTER—No. 18.

                    MANDAN VILLAGE, UPPER MISSOURI.


The Mandans, like all other tribes, lead lives of idleness and
leisure; and of course, devote a great deal of time to their sports
and amusements, of which they have a great variety. Of these, dancing
is one of the principal, and may be seen in a variety of forms: such
as the buffalo dance, the boasting dance, the begging dance, the scalp
dance, and a dozen other kinds of dances, all of which have their
peculiar 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 mysterious meaning, they become a subject of the
most intense and exciting interest. Every dance has its peculiar step,
and every step has its meaning; every dance also has its peculiar song,
and that is so intricate and mysterious oftentimes, that not one in ten
of the young men who are dancing and singing it, know the meaning of
the song which they are chanting over. None but the medicine-men are
allowed to understand them; and even they are generally only initiated
into these secret arcana, on the payment of a liberal stipend for their
tuition, which requires much application and study. 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 past been peculiarly engrossed, and my senses almost confounded
with the stamping, and grunting, and bellowing of the _buffalo dance_,
which closed a few days since at sunrise (thank Heaven), and which I
must needs describe to you.

Buffaloes, it is known, are a sort of roaming creatures, congregating
occasionally in huge masses, and strolling away about the country from
east to west, or from north to south, or just where their whims or
strange fancies may lead them; and the Mandans are sometimes, by this
means, most unceremoniously left without any thing to eat; and being a
small tribe, and unwilling to risk their lives by going far from home
in the face of their more powerful enemies, are oftentimes left almost
in a state of starvation. In any emergency of this kind, every man
musters and brings out of his lodge his mask (the skin of a buffalo’s
head with the horns on), which he is obliged to keep in readiness
for this occasion; and then commences the buffalo dance, of which I
have above spoken, which is held for the purpose of making “buffalo
come” (as they term it), of inducing the buffalo herds to change the
direction of their wanderings, and bend their course towards the Mandan
village, and graze about on the beautiful hills and bluffs in its
vicinity, where the Mandans can shoot them down and cook them as they
want them for food.

For the most part of the year, the young warriors and hunters, by
riding out a mile or two from the village, can kill meat in abundance;
and sometimes large herds of these animals may be seen grazing in
full view of the village. There are other seasons also when the young
men have ranged about the country as far as they are willing to risk
their lives, on account of their enemies, without finding meat. This
sad intelligence is brought back to the chiefs and doctors, who sit in
solemn council, and consult on the most expedient measures to be taken,
until they are sure to decide upon the old and only expedient which
“never has failed.”

The chief issues his order to his runners or criers, who proclaim it
through the village—and in a few minutes the dance begins. The place
where this strange operation is carried on is in the public area in the
centre of the village, and in front of the great medicine or mystery
lodge. About ten or fifteen Mandans at a time join in the dance, each
one with the skin of the buffalo’s head (or mask) with the horns on,
placed over his head, and in his hand his favourite bow or lance, with
which he is used to slay the buffalo.

I mentioned that this dance always had the desired effect, that it
never fails, nor can it, for it cannot be stopped (but is going
incessantly day and night) until “buffalo come.” Drums are beating and
rattles are shaken, and songs and yells incessantly are shouted, and
lookers-on stand ready with masks on their heads, and weapons in hand,
to take the place of each one as he becomes fatigued, and jumps out of
the ring.

During this time of general excitement, spies or “_lookers_” are kept
on the hills in the neighbourhood of the village, who, when they
discover buffaloes in sight, give the appropriate signal, by “throwing
their robes,” which is instantly seen in the village, and understood by
the whole tribe. At this joyful intelligence there is a shout of thanks
to the Great Spirit, and more especially to the mystery-man, and the
dancers, _who have been the immediate cause of their success_! There is
then a brisk preparation for the chase—a grand hunt takes place. The
choicest pieces of the victims are sacrificed to the Great Spirit, and
then a surfeit and a carouse.

These dances have sometimes been continued in this village two and
three weeks without stopping an instant, until the joyful moment when
buffaloes made their appearance. So they _never fail_; and they think
they have been the means of bringing them in.

Every man in the Mandan village (as I have before said) is obliged by
a village regulation, to keep the mask of the buffalo, hanging on a
post at the head of his 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 (+plate+ 56). When one becomes fatigued of the
exercise, he signifies it by bending quite forward, and sinking his
body towards the ground; when another draws a bow upon him and hits
him with a blunt arrow, and he falls like a buffalo—is 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 great
distress. The signal was given into the village on that morning from
the top of a distant bluff, that a band of buffaloes were in sight,
though at a considerable distance off, and every heart beat with joy,
and every eye watered and glistened with gladness.

The dance had lasted some three or four days, and now, instead of the
doleful tap of the drum and the begging chaunts of the dancers, the
stamping 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 boasting,
whilst bows were twanging and spears were polishing by running their
blades into the ground—every face and every eye was filled with joy and
gladness—horses were pawing and snuffing in fury for the outset, when
Louison Frénié, an interpreter of the Fur Company, galloped through the
village with his rifle in his hand and his powder-horn at his side; his
head and waist were bandaged with handkerchiefs, and his shirt sleeves
rolled up to his shoulders—the hunter’s yell issued from his lips and
was repeated through the village; he flew to the bluffs, and behind
him and over the graceful swells of the prairie, galloped the emulous
youths, whose hearts were beating high and quick for the onset.

[Illustration: 56]

In the village, where hunger had reigned, and starvation was almost
ready to look them in the face, all was instantly turned to joy and
gladness. 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 subjects the contents of their own private _caches_, and
the last of every thing that could be mustered, that they might eat a
thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for his goodness in sending them a
supply of buffalo meat. A general carouse of banqueting ensued, which
occupied the greater part of the day; and their hidden stores which
might have fed an emergency for several weeks, were pretty nearly used
up on the occasion—bones were half picked, and dishes half emptied and
then handed to the dogs. _I_ was not forgotten neither, in the general
surfeit; several large and generous wooden bowls of pemican and other
palatable food were sent to my painting-room, and I received them in
this time of scarcity with great pleasure.

After this general indulgence was over, and the dogs had licked the
dishes, their usual games and amusements ensued—and hilarity and mirth,
and joy took possession of, and reigned in, every nook and corner of
the village; and in the midst of this, screams and shrieks were heard!
and echoed everywhere. Women and children scrambled to the tops of
their wigwams, with their eyes and their hands stretched in agonizing
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 bluff 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
in their looks, for one was bleeding, and the blood that flowed from
his naked breast had crimsoned his milk white steed as it had dripped
over him; another grasped in his left hand a scalp that was reeking in
blood—and in 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 away, and trusted to the fleetness of his horse
for his safety; yet the story was audibly told, and the fatal tragedy
recited in irregular and almost suffocating ejaculations—the names
of the dead were in turns pronounced and screams and shrieks burst
forth at their recital—murmurs and groans ran through the village, and
this happy little community were in a moment smitten with sorrow and
distraction.

Their proud band of hunters who had started full of glee and mirth in
the morning, had been surrounded by their enemy, the Sioux, and eight
of them killed. The Sioux, who had probably reconnoitred their village
during the night, and ascertained that they were dancing for buffaloes,
laid a stratagem to entrap them in the following manner:—Some six
or eight of them appeared the next morning (on a distant bluff, in
sight of their sentinel) under the skins of buffaloes, imitating the
movements of those animals whilst grazing; and being discovered by
the sentinel, the intelligence was telegraphed to the village, which
brought out their hunters as I have described. The masked buffaloes
were seen grazing on the top of a high bluff, and when the hunters had
approached within half a mile or so of them, they suddenly disappeared
over the hill. Louison Frénié, who was leading the little band of
hunters, became at that moment suspicious of so strange a movement, and
came to a halt    *    *    *

   * “Look”! (said a Mandan, pointing to a little ravine to the right, and
at the foot of the hill, from which suddenly broke some forty or fifty
furious Sioux, on fleet horses and under full whip, who were rushing
upon them); they wheeled, and in front of them came another band more
furious from the other side of the hill! they started for home (poor
fellows), and strained every nerve; but the Sioux were too fleet for
them; and every now and then, the whizzing arrow and the lance were
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 Frénié 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 broken on that unlucky occasion.

_This_ day, though, my readers, has been one of a more joyful kind, for
the Great Spirit, who was indignant at so flagrant an injustice, has
sent the Mandans an abundance of buffaloes; and all hearts have joined
in a general thanksgiving to Him for his goodness and justice.

[Illustration: 57]




                             LETTER—No. 19.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


In 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 forms, 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 constitutes 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 them 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 effects. Each one has also a little belt or girdle around
his waist, in which he carries a knife made of a piece of wood and
equally harmless—on the tops of their heads are slightly attached
small tufts of grass, which answer as scalps, and in this plight,
they follow the dictates of their experienced leaders, who lead them
through the judicious evolutions of Indian warfare—of feints—of
retreats—of attacks—and at last to a general fight. Many manœuvres 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 their
missiles flying, whilst they are dodging and fending them off.

If any one is struck with an arrow on any vital part of his body, he is
obliged to fall, and his adversary rushes up to him, places his foot
upon him, and snatching from his belt his wooden knife, grasps hold of
his 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 morning,
and is performed on an empty stomach, affording them a rigid and
wholesome exercise, whilst they are instructed in the important science
of war. Some five or six miles of ground are run over during these
evolutions, giving suppleness to their limbs and strength to their
muscles, which 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 _sanguinary
deeds_, to the great astonishment of their tender aged sweethearts, who
are gazing with wonder upon them.

The games and amusements of these people are in most respects like
those of the 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 favourite amusement,
and unknown to the other tribes about them. The game of Tchung-kee, a
beautiful athletic exercise, which they seem to be almost unceasingly
practicing whilst the weather is fair, and 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 two
or three inches in diameter, cut out of a stone; and each one follows
it up with his “tchung-kee” (a stick of six feet in length, with
little bits of leather projecting from its sides of an inch or more in
length), which he throws before him as he runs, sliding it along upon
the ground after the ring, endeavouring to place it in such a position
when it stops, that the ring may fall upon it, and receive one of the
little projections of leather through it, which counts for game, one,
or two, or four, according to the position of the leather on which the
ring is lodged. The last winner 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 game 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 stake their liberty upon the issue of these games,
offering themselves as slaves to their opponents in case they get
beaten.

_Feasting_ and _fasting_ are important customs observed by the Mandans,
as well as by most other tribes, at stated times and for particular
purposes. These observances are strictly religious and rigidly
observed. There are many of 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 present, 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 departed 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—they
consist of ten or fifteen yards of blue and black cloth each, purchased
from the Fur Company at fifteen 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 hundred miles above,
with information that a party of Blackfeet were visiting that place on
business with the American Fur Company; and that they had with them
a white buffalo robe for sale. This was looked upon as a subject of
great importance by the chiefs, and one worthy of public consideration.
A white buffalo robe is a great curiosity, even in the country of
buffaloes, and will always command an almost incredible price, from its
extreme scarcity; and then, from its being the most costly article of
traffic in these regions, it is usually converted into a _sacrifice_,
being offered to the Great Spirit, as the most acceptable gift that can
be procured. Amongst the vast herds of buffaloes which graze on these
boundless prairies, there is not one in an hundred thousand, perhaps,
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 Blackfeet; and also of appropriating the requisite means,
and devising the proper mode of procedure for effecting the purchase.
At the close of their deliberations, eight men were fitted out on eight
of their best horses, who took from the Fur Company’s store, on the
credit of 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 vastly curious,
and containing (as they express it) something of the Great Spirit.
This wonderful anomaly laid several days in the chief’s lodge, until
public curiosity was gratified; and then it was taken by the doctors or
high-priests, and with a great deal of form and mystery consecrated,
and raised on the top of a long pole over the _medicine-lodge_; where
it now stands in a group with the others, and will stand as an offering
to the Great Spirit, until it decays and falls to the ground.

This Letter, as I promised in its commencement, being devoted to some
of the customs peculiar to the Mandans, and all of which will be new
to the world, I shall close, after recording in it an account of a
laughable farce, which was enacted in this village when I was on my
journey up the river, and had stopped on the way to spend a day or two
in the Mandan village.

Readers, did you ever hear of “_Rain Makers_?” If not, sit still, and
read on; but laugh not—keep cool and sober, or else you may laugh in
the _beginning_, and cry at the _end_ of my story. Well, I introduce
to you a new character—not a _doctor_ or a _high-priest_, yet a
_medicine-man_, and one of the highest and most respectable order, a
“_Rain Maker_!” Such dignitaries live in the Mandan nation, aye, and
“_rain stoppers_” too; and even those also amongst their _conjurati_,
who, like Joshua of old, have even essayed to stop the sun in his
course; but from the inefficiency of their medicine or mystery, have
long since descended into insignificance.

Well, the story begins thus:—The Mandans, as I have said in a former
Letter, raise a great deal of corn; and sometimes a most disastrous
drought will be visited on the land, destructive to their promised
harvest. Such was the case when I arrived at the Mandan village
on the steam-boat, Yellow-Stone. Rain had not fallen for many a day,
and the dear little girls and the ugly old squaws, altogether (all of
whom had fields of corn), were groaning and crying to their lords, and
imploring them to intercede for rain, that their little respective
patches, which were now turning pale and yellow, might not be withered,
and they be deprived of the pleasure of their customary annual
festivity, and the joyful occasion of the “roasting ears,” and the
“green corn dance.”

[Illustration: 58]

[Illustration: 59]

The chiefs and doctors sympathized with the plaints of the women, and
recommended patience. Great deliberation, they said, was necessary in
these cases; and though they resolved on making 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 off, the more certain they would
feel of ultimate success. So, after a few days of further delay,
when the importunities of the women had become clamorous, and even
mournful, and almost insupportable, the _medicine-men_ assembled in
the council-house, with all their mystery apparatus about them—with an
abundance of wild sage, and other aromatic herbs, with a fire prepared
to burn them, that their savoury odours might be sent forth to 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 suffer 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 medicine-lodge; and
they were called up by lot, each one in his turn, to spend a day upon
the top of the lodge, 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 their songs and prayers to the Great Spirit for
success, were sending forth grateful fumes and odours to Him “who lives
in the sun and commands the thunders of Heaven.” Wah-kee (the shield)
was the first who ascended the wigwam at sunrise; and he stood all day,
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 brandished his lance, and raised his voice, but in vain; for
at sunset the ground was dry and the sky was clear; the squaws were
crying, and their corn was withering at its roots.

War-rah-pa (the beaver) was the next; he also spent his breath in vain
upon the empty air, and came down at night—and Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (the
white buffalo’s hair) took the stand the next morning. He is a small,
but beautifully proportioned young man. He was dressed in a tunic and
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 from 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 his sinewy bow and one single arrow. The
villagers were all gathered about him; when he threw up a feather to
decide on the course of the wind, and he commenced thus:—“My friends!
people of the pheasants! you see me here a sacrifice—I shall 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 amongs
the dogs and old women all my days. My friends! you saw which way the
feather flew, and I hold my shield this day in the direction where the
wind comes—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, my
friends, and nothing has been done to relieve your distress. On the
first day was Wah-kee (the shield), he could do nothing; he counted 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 father the White Buffalo; and the lightning you see on it is red; it
was taken from a black cloud, and that cloud will come over us to-day.
I am the white buffalo’s hair—and I am the son of my father.”

In this manner flourished and manœuvred Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (the white
buffalo’s hair), alternately addressing the audience and the heaven—and
holding converse with the winds and the “_je-bi_” (spirits) that are
floating about in them—stamping his foot over the heads of the _magi_,
who were involved in mysteries beneath him, and invoking the spirits of
darkness and light to send rain, to gladden the hearts of the Mandans.

It happened on this memorable day about noon, that the 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 fire
a salute of twenty guns of twelve pounds calibre, when we first came
in sight of the village, some three or four miles below. These guns
introduced a _new sound_ into this strange country, which the Mandans
at first 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 him—chiefs envied him—mothers’ hearts were beating
high whilst they were decorating and leading up their fair daughters
to offer him in marriage, on his signal success. The medicine-men had
left the lodge, and came out to bestow upon him the envied title of
“_medicine-man_,” or “_doctor_,” which he had so deservedly won—wreaths
were prepared to decorate his brows, and eagle’s plumes and calumets
were in readiness for him; his friends were all rejoiced—his enemies
wore on their faces a silent gloom and hatred; and his old sweethearts,
who had formerly cast him off, gazed intensely upon him, as they glowed
with the burning fever of repentance.

During all this excitement, Wak-a-dah-ha-hee kept his position,
assuming the most commanding and threatening attitudes; brandishing his
shield in the direction of the thunder (+plate+ 58), although there
was not a cloud to be seen, until he (poor fellow), being elevated
above the rest of the village, espied, to his inexpressible amazement,
the steam-boat ploughing its way up the windings of the river below;
puffing her steam from her pipes, and sending forth the thunder from
a twelve-pounder on her deck!    *    *    *    The White Buffalo’s
Hair stood motionless and turned pale, he looked awhile, and turned to
the chief and to the multitude, and addressed them with a trembling
lip—“My friends, we will get no rain!—there are, you see, no clouds;
but my medicine is great—I have brought a _thunder boat_! look and see
it! the thunder you hear is out of her mouth, and the lightning which
you see is on the waters!”

At this intelligence, the whole village flew to the tops of their
wigwams, or to the bank of 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
on to her deck, with a spear in one hand and the calumet or pipe of
peace in the other. The moment they stepped on board they met (to their
great surprise and joy) their old friend, Major Sanford, their agent,
which circumstance put an instant end to all their fears. The villagers
were soon apprized of the fact, and the whole race of the beautiful and
friendly Mandans was paraded on the bank of the river, in front of the
steamer.

The “rain maker,” whose apprehensions of a public calamity brought
upon the nation by his extraordinary _medicine_, had, for the better
security of his person from apprehended vengeance, secreted himself in
some secure place, and was the last to come forward, and the last to
be convinced that this visitation was a friendly one from the white
people; and that his _medicine_ had not in the least been instrumental
in bringing it about. This information, though received by him with
much caution and suspicion, at length gave him great relief, and
quieted his mind as to his danger. Yet still in his breast there was a
rankling thorn, though he escaped the dreaded vengeance which he had a
few moments before apprehended as at hand; as he had the mortification
and disgrace of having failed in his mysterious operations. He set
up, however (during the day, in his conversation about the strange
arrival), his _medicines_, as the cause of its approach; asserting
everywhere and to everybody, that he knew of its coming, and that he
had by his magic brought the occurrence about. This plea, however, did
not get him much audience; and in fact, everything else was pretty
much swallowed up in the guttural talk, and bustle, and gossip about
the mysteries of the “thunder-boat;” and so passed the day, until just
at the approach of evening, when the “White Buffalo’s Hair” (more
watchful of such matters on this occasion than most others) observed
that a black cloud had been jutting up in the horizon, and was almost
directly over the village! In an instant his shield was on his arm, and
his bow in his hand, and he again upon the lodge! stiffened and braced
to the last sinew, he stood, with his face and his shield presented to
the cloud, and his bow drawn. He drew the eyes of the whole village
upon him as he vaunted forth his super-human powers, and at the same
time commanding the cloud to come nearer, that he might draw down
its contents upon the heads and the corn-fields of the Mandans! In
this wise he stood, waving his shield over his head, stamping his
foot and frowning as he drew his bow and threatened the heavens,
commanding it to rain—his bow was bent, and the arrow drawn to its
head, was sent to the cloud, and he exclaimed, “My friends, it is done!
Wak-a-dah-ha-hee’s arrow has entered that black cloud, and the Mandans
will be wet with the water of the skies!” His predictions were true;—in
a few moments the cloud was over the village, and the rain fell in
torrents. He stood for some time wielding his weapons and presenting
his shield to the sky, while he boasted of his power and the efficacy
of his _medicine_, to those who had been about him, but were now driven
to the shelter of their wigwams. He, at length, finished his vaunts and
his threats, and descended from his high place (in which he had been
perfectly drenched), prepared to receive the honours and the homage
that were due to one so potent in his mysteries; and to receive the
style and title of “_medicine-man_.” This is one of a hundred different
modes in which a man in Indian countries acquires the honourable
appellation.

This man had “made it rain,” and of course was to receive more than
usual honours, as he had done much more than ordinary men could do. All
eyes were upon him, and all were ready to admit that he was skilled
in the magic art; and must be so nearly allied to the Great or Evil
Spirit, that he must needs be a man of great and powerful influence in
the nation, and well entitled to the style of doctor or _medicine-man_.

Readers, there are two facts relative to these strange transactions,
which are infallibly true, and should needs be made known. The first
is, that when the Mandans undertake to make it rain, _they never fail
to succeed_, for their ceremonies never stop until rain begins to fall.
The second is equally true, and is this:—that he who has once “_made
it rain_,” never attempts it again; his medicine is undoubted—and on
future occasions of the kind, he stands aloof, who has once done it in
presence of the whole village, giving an opportunity to other young men
who are ambitious to signalize themselves in the same way.

During the memorable night of which I have just spoken, the steam-boat
remained by the side of the Mandan village, and the rain that had
commenced falling continued to pour down its torrents until midnight;
black thunder roared, and livid lightning flashed until the heavens
appeared to be lit up with one unceasing and appalling glare. In
this frightful moment of consternation, a flash of lightning buried
itself in one of the earth-covered lodges of the Mandans, and killed a
beautiful girl. Here was food and fuel fresh for their superstitions;
and a night of vast tumult and excitement ensued. The dreams of the
new-made medicine-man were troubled, and he had dreadful apprehensions
for the coming day—for he knew that he was subject to the irrevocable
decree of the chiefs and doctors, who canvass every strange and
unaccountable event, with close and superstitious scrutiny, and let
their vengeance fall without mercy upon its immediate cause.

He looked upon his well-earned fame as likely to be withheld from him;
and also considered that his life might perhaps be demanded as the
forfeit for this girl’s death, which would certainly be charged upon
him. He looked upon himself as culpable, and supposed the accident
to have been occasioned by his criminal 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, which were brought in, and he mounted
the _medicine-lodge_, around which, in a few moments, the villagers
were all assembled. “My friends! (said he) I see you all around me, and
I am before you; my medicine, you see, is great—it is _too great_—I
am young, and I was too fast—I knew not when to stop. The wigwam of
Mah-sish 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 who weep for Ko-ka; his medicine was great—his arrow pierced the
black cloud, and the lightning came, and the _thunder-boat_ also! who
says the medicine of Wak-a-dah-ha-hee is not strong?”

At the end of this sentence an unanimous shout of approbation ran
through the crowd, and the “Hair of the White Buffalo” descended
amongst them, where he was greeted by shakes of the hand; and amongst
whom he now lives and thrives under the familiar and honourable
appellation of the “+Big Double Medicine+.”




                             LETTER—No. 20.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


This 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 almost all
their days and hours are spent in innocent amusements. Amongst a people
who have no office hours to attend to—no professions to study, and of
whom but very little time is required in the chase, to supply their
families with food, it would be strange if they did not practice many
games and amusements, 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 favourite
amusement which they call the “_game of the arrow_” (see +plate+ 60),
where the young men who are the most distinguished in this exercise,
assemble on the prairie at a little distance from the village, and
having paid, each one, his “entrance-fee,” such as a shield, a robe,
a pipe, or other article, step forward in turn, shooting their arrows
into the air, endeavouring to see who can get the greatest number
flying in the air at one time, thrown from the same bow. For this, the
number of eight or ten arrows are clenched in the left hand with the
bow, and the first one which is thrown is elevated to such a degree
as will enable it to remain the longest time possible in the air, and
while it is flying, the others are discharged as rapidly as possible;
and he who succeeds in getting the greatest number up at once, is
“best,” and takes the goods staked.

In looking on at this amusement, the spectator is surprised; not at
the great distance to which the arrows are actually sent; but at
the quickness of fixing them on the string, and discharging them in
succession; which is no doubt, the result of great practice, and
enables the most expert of them to get as many as eight arrows up
before the first one reaches the ground.

For the successful use of the bow, as it is used through all this
region of country on horseback, and that invariably at full speed, the
great object of practice is to enable the bowman to draw the bow with
suddenness 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 their enemies fought in the same way; and as
the horse is the swiftest animal of the prairie, and always able to
bring his rider alongside, within a few paces of his victim; it will
easily be seen that the Indian has little use in throwing his arrow
more than a few paces; when he leans quite low on his horse’s side, and
drives it with astonishing force, capable of producing instant death
to the buffalo, or any other animal in the country. The bows which are
generally in use in these regions I have described in a former Letter,
and the effects produced by them at the distance of a few paces is
almost beyond belief, considering their length, which is not often over
three,—and sometimes not exceeding two and a half feet. It can easily
be seen, from what has been said, that the Indian has little use or
object in throwing the arrow to any great distance. And as it is very
seldom 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 dashing forward at fullest speed on the wild horse, without the
use of the rein, when the shot is required to be made with the most
instantaneous 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, unquestionably, 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. These 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 rawhide, 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 regions 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.

[Illustration: 60]

[Illustration: 61]

The Indians are hard and cruel masters; and, added to their cruelties
is the sin that is familiar in the Christian world, of sporting with
the limbs, and the lives of these noble animals. _Horse-racing_ here,
as in all more enlightened communities, is one of the most exciting
amusements, and one of the most extravagant modes of gambling.

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 village; and although I never had the least taste for this cruel
amusement in my own country, yet, I must say, I have been not a little
amused and pleased with the thrilling effect which these exciting
scenes have produced amongst so wild and picturesque a group.

I have made a sketch of the ground and the group, as near as I could
(+plate+ 61); shewing the manner of “starting” and “coming out,” which
vary a little from the customs of the _knowing_ world; but in other
respects, I believe, a horse-race is the same all the world over.

Besides these, many have been the amusements of this day, to which I
have been an eye-witness; and since writing the above, 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 against the
Riccarees, and taken the most solemn oath amongst themselves never
to return without achieving a victory. They had wandered long and
faithfully about the country, following the trails of their enemy; when
they were attacked by a numerous party, and lost several of their men
and all their horses. In this condition, to evade the scrutiny of their
enemy, who were closely investing the natural route to their village;
they took a circuitous range of the country, to enable them to return
with their lives, to their village.

In this plight, it seems, I had dropped my little canoe alongside of
them, while descending from the Mouth of Yellow Stone to this place,
not many weeks since; where they had bivouacked or halted, to smoke
and consult on the best and safest mode of procedure. At the time of
meeting them, not knowing anything of their language, they were unable
to communicate their condition to me, and more probably were afraid
to do so even if they could have done it, from apprehension that we
might have given some account of them to their enemies. I rested my
canoe an hour or so with them, during which time they treated us with
an indifferent reserve, yet respectfully; and we passed on our way,
without further information of them or their plans than the sketch that
I there made (+plate+ 63), and which I shall preserve and value as one
of the most pleasing groups I ever have had the pleasure to see. Seated
on their buffalo robes, which were spread upon the grass, with their
respective weapons laying about them, and lighting their pipes at a
little fire which was kindled in the centre—the chief or leader of the
party, with his arms stacked behind him, and his long head-dress of
war-eagles’ 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 I ever
looked upon.

These gallant fellows got safely home to their village, and the
numerous expressions of joy for their return, which I have this day
witnessed, have much fatigued me that I write brief, and close my
Letter here.

[Illustration: 63]




                             LETTER—No. 21.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


In a former Letter I gave some account of Mah-to-toh-pa (the four
bears), second chief of the Mandans, whom I said I had painted at
full length, in a splendid costume. I therein said, also, that “this
extraordinary man, though second in office, is undoubtedly the first
and most popular man in the nation. Free, generous, elegant, and
gentlemanly in his deportment—handsome, brave and valiant; wearing a
robe on his back, with the history of 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 he 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
pardon me for devoting a Letter or two at this time, to a sketch of
this extraordinary man, which I will give in as brief a manner as
possible, by describing the costume in which I painted his portrait;
and afterwards reciting the most remarkable incidents of his life,
as I had them from the Traders and the Indian agents, and afterwards
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
represented in his full-length portrait, and which I shall now
describe, was purchased of him after I had painted his picture; and
every article of it can be seen in my Indian Gallery by the side of
the portrait, provided I succeed in getting them home to the civilized
world without injury.

Mah-to-toh-pa had agreed to stand before me for his portrait at an
early 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 arrangement of his equipments; and at that time it
was announced, that “Mah-to-toh-pa was coming in full dress!” I looked
out of the door of the wigwam, 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 manly dignity than did Mah-to-toh-pa enter
the wigwam, where I was in readiness to receive him. He took his
attitude before me (+plate+ 64), and with the sternness of a Brutus
and the stillness of a statue, he stood until the darkness of night
broke upon the solitary stillness. His dress, which was a very splendid
one, was complete in all its parts, and consisted of a shirt or tunic,
leggings, moccasins, head-dress, necklace, shield, bow and quiver,
lance, tobacco-sack, and pipe; robe, belt, and knife; medicine-bag,
tomahawk, and war-club, or _po-ko-mo-kon_.

The shirt, of which I have spoken, was made of two skins of the
mountain-sheep, beautifully dressed, and sewed together by seams which
rested upon the arms; one skin hanging in front, upon the breast, and
the other falling down upon the back; the head being passed between
them, and they falling over and resting on the shoulders. Across each
shoulder, and somewhat in the form of an epaulette, was a beautiful
band; and down each arm from the neck to the hand was a similar one,
of two inches in width (and crossing the other at right angles on the
shoulder) beautifully embroidered with porcupine quills worked on the
dress, and covering the seams. To the lower edge of these bands the
whole way, at intervals of half an inch, were attached long locks of
black hair, which he had taken with his own hand from the heads of
his enemies whom he had slain in battle, and which he thus wore as a
trophy, and also as an ornament to his dress. The front and back of
the shirt were curiously garnished in several parts with porcupine
quills and paintings of the battles he had fought, and also with
representations of the victims that had fallen by his hand. The bottom
of the dress was bound or hemmed with ermine skins, and tassels of
ermines’ tails were suspended from the arms and the shoulders.

The _Leggings_, which were made of deer skins, beautifully dressed,
and fitting tight to the leg, extended from the feet to the hips, and
were fastened to a belt which was passed around the waist. These, like
the shirt, had a similar band, worked with porcupine quills of richest
dyes, passing down the seam on the outer part of the leg, and fringed
also the whole length of the leg, with the scalp-locks taken from his
enemies’ heads.

The _Moccasins_ were of buckskin, and covered in almost every part with
the beautiful embroidery of porcupines’ quills.

The _Head-dress_, which was superb and truly magnificent, consisted
of a crest of war-eagles’ quills, gracefully falling back from the
forehead over the back part of the head, and extending quite down to
his feet; set the whole way in a profusion of ermine, and surmounted
on the top of the head, with the horns of the buffalo, shaved thin and
highly polished.

The _Necklace_ was made of fifty huge claws or nails of the grizzly
bear, ingeniously arranged on the skin of an otter, and worn, like the
scalp-locks, as a trophy—as an evidence unquestionable, that he had
contended with and overcome that desperate enemy in open combat.

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 eagles’ quills and
hoofs of the antelope.

His _Bow_ was of bone, and as white and beautiful as ivory; over its
back was laid, and firmly attached to it, a coating of deers’
sinews, which gave it its elasticity, and of course death to all that
stood inimically before 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.

[Illustration: 64]

The _Quiver_ was made of a panther’s skin and hung upon his back,
charged with its deadly arrows; some were poisoned and some were not;
they were feathered with hawks’ and eagles’ quills; some were clean and
innocent, and pure, and others were stained all over, with animal and
human blood that was 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 left 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 ornamented at intervals with tufts of war-eagles’ quills.

His _Tobacco-sack_ was made of the skin of an otter, and tastefully
garnished 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’s quills, so ingeniously
wrought as to represent figures of men and animals upon it. It was
also ornamented with the skins and beaks of wood-peckers’ heads, and
the hair of the white buffalo’s tail. The lower half of the stem was
painted red, and on its edges it bore the notches he had recorded for
the snows (or years) of his life.

His _Robe_ was made of the skin of a young buffalo bull, with the fur
on one side, and the other finely and delicately dressed; with all the
battles of his life emblazoned on it by his own hand.

His _Belt_, which was of a substantial piece of buckskin, was firmly
girded around his waist; and in it were worn his tomahawk and
scalping-knife.

His _Medicine-bag_ was the skin of a beaver, curiously ornamented
with hawks’ bills and ermine. It was held in his right hand, and his
_po-ko-mo-kon_ (or war-club) which was made of a round stone, tied up
in a piece of rawhide, and attached to the end of a stick, somewhat in
the form of a sling, was laid with others of his weapons at his feet.

Such was the dress of Mah-to-toh-pa when he entered my wigwam to stand
for his picture; but such I have not entirely represented it in his
portrait; having rejected such trappings and ornaments as interfered
with the grace and simplicity of the figure. He was beautifully and
extravagantly dressed; and in this he was not alone, for hundreds of
others are equally elegant. In plumes, and arms, and ornaments, he is
not singular; but in laurels and wreaths he stands unparalleled. His
breast has been bared and scarred in defence of his country, and his
brows crowned with honours that elevate him conspicuous above all of
his nation. There is no man amongst the Mandans so generally loved,
nor any one who wears a robe so justly famed and honourable as that of
Mah-to-toh-pa.

I said his robe was of the skin of a young buffalo bull, and that the
battles of his life 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 weeks’ time in copying from his
original one, which he wore on his shoulders.

This robe, with his tracings on it, is the chart of his military life;
and when explained, will tell more of Mah-to-toh-pa.

Some days after 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 I 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.


                  ROBE OF MAH-TO-TOH-PA (+Plate+ 65).

1. Mah-to-toh-pa kills a Sioux chief—the three heads represent the
three Riccarees, whom the Sioux chief had previously killed. The Sioux
chief is seen with war-paint black on his face. Mah-to-toh-pa is seen
with the scalp of the Sioux in one hand, and his knife in the other,
with his bow and quiver lying behind him.[3]

2. A Shienne chief, who sent word to Mah-to-toh-pa that he wished to
fight him—was killed by Mah-to-toh-pa with a lance, in presence of a
large party of Mandans and Shiennes. Mah-to-toh-pa is here known
by his lance with eagles’ quills on it.

[Illustration: 65]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

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 Shiennes, who were present
when the battle took place; and the bullets from their guns represented
as flying all around the head of Mah-to-toh-pa.

4. Shienne chief with war-eagle head-dress, and a beautiful shield,
ornamented with eagles’ 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-eagles’ quills,
and one on his horse’s head of equal beauty; his shield 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 brother’s body with the lance
in it: he drew the lance from the body, kept it four years with the
blood dried on its blade, and then, according to his oath, killed the
same Riccaree with the same lance; the dead body of his brother is here
seen with the arrow and lance remaining in it, and the tracks of the
Riccaree’s horses in front.

The following was, perhaps, 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 handsome spear left piercing the body through
the heart. The spear was by him brought into the Mandan village, where
it was recognized by many as a famous weapon belonging to a noted brave
of the Riccarees, by the name of Won-ga-tap. This spear was brandished
through the Mandan village by Mah-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 of four years, in the fruitless
expectation of an opportunity to use it upon the breast of its owner;
when his indignant soul, impatient of further delay, burst forth in the
most uncontroullable frenzy and fury; he again brandished it through
the village, and said, that the blood of his brother’s heart which was
seen on its blade was yet fresh, and called loudly for revenge. “Let
every Mandan (said he) be silent, and let no one sound the name of
Mah-to-toh-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 you 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.”

With 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 bluffs. He travelled the distance
of two hundred miles entirely alone, with a little parched corn in
his pouch, making his marches by night, and laying secreted by days,
until he reached the Riccaree village; where (being acquainted with
its shapes and its habits, and knowing the position of the wigwam of
his doomed enemy) he loitered about in disguise, mingling himself in
the obscure throng; and at last, silently and alone, observed through
the rents of the wigwam, the last motions and movements of his victim,
as he retired to bed with his wife: he saw him light his last pipe and
smoke it “to its end”—he saw the last whiff, and saw the last curl of
blue smoke that faintly steeped from its bowl—he saw the village awhile
in darkness and silence, and the embers that were covered in the middle
of the wigwam gone nearly out, and the last flickering light which had
been gently playing over them; when he walked softly, but not slyly,
into the wigwam and seated himself by the fire, over which was hanging
a large pot, with a quantity of cooked meat remaining in it; and by
the side of the fire, the pipe and tobacco-pouch which had just been
used; and knowing that the twilight of the wigwam was not sufficient to
disclose the features of his face to his enemy, he very deliberately
turned to the pot and completely satiated the desperate appetite, which
he had got in a journey of six or seven days, with little or nothing
to eat; and then, as deliberately, charged and lighted the pipe, and
sent (no doubt, in every whiff that he drew through its stem) a prayer
to the Great Spirit for a moment longer for the consummation of his
design. Whilst eating and smoking, the wife of his victim, while laying
in bed, several times enquired of her husband, what man it was who was
eating in their lodge? to which, 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 walk into any man’s lodge and eat. Whilst smoking his
last gentle and tremulous whiffs on the pipe, Mah-to-toh-pa (leaning
back, and turning gradually on his side, to get a better view of the
position of his enemy, and to see a little more distinctly the shapes
of things) stirred the embers with his toes (readers, 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 way was clear; at which
moment, with his lance in his hands, he rose and drove it through the
body of his enemy, and snatching the scalp from his head, he darted
from the lodge—and quick as lightning, with the lance in one hand,
and the scalp in the other, made his way to the prairie! The village
was in an uproar, but he was off, and no one knew the enemy who had
struck the blow. Mah-to-toh-pa ran all night, and lay close during the
days; thanking the Great Spirit for strengthening his heart and his
arm to this noble revenge; and prayed fervently for a continuance of
his aid 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 Won-ga-tap suspended from its handle.

[Illustration]

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 the blood of several human victims was
seen dried upon its surface, one over the other; its shaft was of the
toughest ash, and ornamented at intervals with tufts of war-eagle’s
quills.”

In the portrait, of which I am speaking, there will be seen an eagle’s
quill balanced on the hilt of the lance, severed from its original
position, and loose from the weapon. When I painted his portrait,
he brought that quill to my wigwam in his left hand, and carefully
balancing it on the lance, as seen in the painting; he desired me to be
very exact with it, to have it appear as separate from, and unconnected
with, the lance; and to represent a spot of blood which was visible
upon it. I indulged him 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-ga-tap, I looked back and saw that quill hanging to
the wound in his side; I ran back, and pulling it out, brought it home
in my left hand, and I have kept it for the Great Spirit to this day!”

“Why do you not then tie it on to the lance again, where it came off?”

“Hush-sh (said he), if the Great Spirit had wished it to be tied on in
that place, it never would have come off; he has been kind to me, and I
will not offend him.”

7. A Riccaree killed by Mah-to-toh-pa in revenge of the death of a
white man killed by a Riccaree in the Fur Traders’ Fort, a short time
previous.

8. Mah-to-toh-pa, or four bears, kills a Shienne chief, who challenged
him to single combat, in presence of the two war-parties; they fought
on horseback with guns, until Mah-to-toh-pa’s powder-horn was shot
away; they then fought with bows and arrows, until their quivers were
emptied, when they dismounted and fought single-handed. The Shienne
drew his knife, and Mah-to-toh-pa had left his; they struggled for the
knife, which Mah-to-toh-pa wrested from the Shienne, and killed him
with it; in the struggle, the blade of the knife was several times
drawn through the hand of Mah-to-toh-pa, and the blood is seen running
from the wound.

This extraordinary occurrence also, was one which admits of, and
deserves a more elaborate description, which I will here give as it
was translated from his own lips, while he sat upon the robe, pointing
to his painting of it; and at the same time brandishing the identical
knife which he drew from his belt, as he was shewing how the fatal blow
was given; and exhibiting the wounds inflicted in his hand, as the
blade of the knife was several times drawn through it before he wrested
it from his antagonist.

A party of about 150 Shienne warriors had made an assault upon the
Mandan village at an early hour in the morning, and driven off a
considerable number of horses, and taken one scalp. Mah-to-toh-pa,
who was then a young man, but famed as one of the most valiant of the
Mandans, took the lead of a party of fifty warriors, all he could at
that time muster, and went in pursuit of the enemy; about noon of the
second day, they came in sight of the Shiennes; and the Mandans seeing
their enemy much more numerous than they had expected, were generally
disposed to turn about and return without attacking them. They started
to go back, when Mah-to-toh-pa galloped out in front upon the prairie,
and plunged his lance into the ground; the blade was driven into the
earth to its hilt—he made another circuit around, and in that circuit
tore from his breast his reddened sash, which he hung upon its handle
as a flag, calling out to the Mandans, “What! have we come to this?
we have dogged our enemy two days, and now when we have found them,
are we to turn about and go back like cowards? Mah-to-toh-pa’s lance,
which is red with the blood of brave men, has led you to the sight of
your enemy, and you have followed it; it now stands firm in the ground,
where the earth will drink the blood of Mah-to-toh-pa! you may all go
back, and Mah-to-toh-pa will fight them alone!”

During this manœuvre, 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
understanding the difficulty, and admiring the gallant conduct of
Mah-to-toh-pa, galloped his horse forward within hailing distance, in
front of the Mandans, and called out to know “who he was who had stuck
down his lance and defied the whole enemy alone?”

“I am Mah-to-toh-pa, second in command of the brave and valiant
Mandans.”

“I have heard often of Mah-to-toh-pa, he is a great warrior—dares
Mah-to-toh-pa to come forward and fight this battle with me alone, and
our warriors will look on?”

“Is he a chief who speaks to Mah-to-toh-pa?”

[Illustration: 66]

“My scalps you see hanging to my horse’s bits, and here is my lance
with the ermine skins and the war-eagle’s tail!”

“You have said enough.”

The Shienne chief made a circuit or two at full gallop on a beautiful
white horse, when he struck his lance into the ground, and left it
standing by the side of the lance of Mah-to-toh-pa, both of which were
waving together their little red flags, tokens of blood and defiance.

The two parties then drew nearer, on a beautiful prairie, and the
two full-plumed chiefs, at full speed, drove furiously upon each
other! both firing their guns at the same moment. They passed each
other a little distance and wheeled, when Mah-to-toh-pa drew off his
powder-horn, and by holding it up, shewed his adversary that the
bullet had shattered it to pieces and destroyed his ammunition; he
then threw it from him, and his gun also—drew his bow from his quiver,
and an arrow, and his shield upon his left arm! The Shienne instantly
did the same; _his_ horn was thrown off, and his gun was thrown into
the air—his shield was balanced on his arm—his bow drawn, and quick
as lightning, they were both on the wing for a deadly combat! Like
two soaring eagles in the open air, they made their circuits around,
and the twangs of their sinewy bows were heard, and the war-whoop, as
they dashed by each other, parrying off the whizzing arrows with their
shields! Some lodged in their legs and others in their arms; but both
protected their _bodies_ with their bucklers of bull’s hide. Deadly and
many were the shafts that fled from their murderous bows. At length the
horse of Mah-to-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 him back, presented the face of his shield towards his enemy,
inviting him to come on!—a few shots more were exchanged thus, when the
Shienne, having discharged all his arrows, held up his empty quiver and
dashing it furiously to the ground, with his bow and his shield; drew
and brandished his naked knife!

“Yes!” said Mah-to-toh-pa, as he threw _his_ shield and quiver to the
earth, and was rushing up—_he_ grasped for his knife, but his belt
had it not; he had left it at home! his bow was in his hand, with
which he parried his antagonist’s blow and felled him to the ground! A
desperate struggle now ensued for the knife—the blade of it was several
times drawn through the right hand of Mah-to-toh-pa, inflicting 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.[4]

9. Several hundred Minatarees 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 his 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 him, whether it was manly to boast of taking
the scalps of women? and his pride prevented him from giving me any
explanation or apology. The interpreter, however, explained to me that
he had secreted himself in the most daring manner, in full sight of the
Ojibbeway village, seeking to revenge a murder, where he remained six
days without sustenance, and then killed the two women in full view of
the tribe, and made his escape, which entitled him to the credit of a
victory, though his victims were women.

11. A large party of Assinneboins entrenched near the Mandan
village attacked by the Mandans and Minatarees, 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 extraordinary that the chiefs and braves awarded him the honour of a
victory.

This feat is seen in the centre of the robe—head-dress of war-eagles’
quills on his own and his horse’s head—the tracks of his enemies’
horses are seen in front of him, and bullets flying both ways all
around him. With his whip in his hand, he is seen urging his horse
forward, and an arrow is seen flying, and bloody, as it has passed
through his body. For this wound, and the several others mentioned
above, he bears the honourable scars on 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.

  [3] The reader will see in +plate+ 65, an accurate drawing of this
  curious robe, which now hangs in the +Indian Gallery+, and on the
  following pages, each group numbered, and delineated on a larger
  scale, which are _fac-similes_ of the drawings on the robe.


  [4] This celebrated weapon with the blood of several victims
  dried upon its blade, now hangs in the +Indian Gallery+, with
  satisfactory certificates of its identity and its remarkable
  history, and an exact drawing of it and its scabbard can be seen in
  +plate+ 99, _a_.




                             LETTER—No. 22.

                   MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Oh! “_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
enacted in this village; and I have, fortunately, been able to see and
to understand 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 _medicine-lodge_.

Since the date of my last Letter, I was lucky enough to have painted
the _medicine-man_, who was high-priest on this grand occasion, or
conductor of the ceremonies, who had me regularly installed doctor or
“_medicine_;” and who, on the morning when these grand refinements
in mysteries commenced, 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 attendance 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 wigwam, with a fine sky-light over my head, with
my palette and brushes, endeavouring faithfully to put the whole
of what we saw upon canvass, which my companions all agree to be
critically correct, and of the fidelity of which they have attached
their certificates to the backs of the paintings. I 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 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 _medicine-house_ 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 inquisition; but such the scene has
been, and as such I will endeavour to describe it.

The “_Mandan religious ceremony_” then, as I believe it is very justly
denominated, is an annual transaction, held in their _medicine-lodge_
once a year, as a great religious anniversary, and for several distinct
objects, as I shall in a few minutes describe; during and after which,
they look with implicit reliance for the justification and approval of
the Great Spirit.

All of the Indian tribes, as I have before observed, are religious—are
worshipful—and many of them go to almost incredible lengths (as will
be seen in the present instance, and many others I may recite) in
worshipping the Great Spirit; denying and humbling themselves before
Him for the same purpose, and in the same hope as we do, perhaps 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 accountability, 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 propitiating 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
obscurities and mysteries thrown over and around their system, yet
these affect not the theory itself, which is everywhere essentially
the same—and which, if it be not correct, has this much to command
the admiration of the enlightened world, that they worship with great
sincerity, and all according to one creed.

The Mandans believe in the existence of a Great (or Good) Spirit, and
also of an Evil Spirit, who they say existed long before the Good
Spirit, and is far superior in power. They all believe also in a
future state of existence, and a future administration of rewards and
punishments, and (so do all other tribes that I have yet visited) they
believe those punishments are not eternal, but commensurate with their
sins.

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 with eternal
snows and ice. The torments of this freezing place they describe as
most excruciating; whilst Heaven they suppose to be in a warmer and
delightful latitude, where nothing is felt but the keenest enjoyment,
and where the country abounds in buffaloes and other luxuries of life.
The Great or Good Spirit they believe dwells in the former place for
the purpose of there meeting those who have offended him; increasing
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, still tempting the happy; and those who have gone
to the regions of punishment they believe to be tortured for a time
proportioned to the amount of their transgressions, and that they are
then to be transferred to the land of the happy, where they are again
liable to the temptations of the Evil Spirit, and answerable again at a
future period for their new offences.

Such is the religious creed of the Mandans, and for the purpose of
appeasing 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 following 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 subsiding 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 spectators 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
exceedingly grotesque and amusing, and that part of them which has a
relation 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 call the “big canoe”—it is undoubtedly
a symbolic representation 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 an object
worth bearing in mind, and worthy of being understood.

This exciting and appalling scene, then, which is familiarly (and no
doubt correctly) called the “Mandan religious ceremony,” commences,
not on a particular day of the year, (for these people keep no record
of days or weeks), but at a particular season, which is designated by
the full expansion of the willow leaves under the bank of the river;
for according to their tradition, “the twig that the bird brought home
was a willow bough, and had full-grown leaves on it,” and the bird to
which they allude, is the mourning or turtle-dove, which they took
great pains to point out to me, as it is often to be seen feeding on
the sides of their earth-covered lodges, and which, being, as they call
it, a _medicine-bird_, is not to be destroyed or harmed by any one, and
even their dogs are instructed not to do it injury.

On the morning on which this strange transaction commenced, I was
sitting at breakfast in the house of the Trader, Mr. Kipp, when at
sun-rise, we were suddenly startled by the shrieking and screaming
of the women, and barking and howling of dogs, as if an enemy were
actually storming their village.

“Now we have it!” (exclaimed _mine host_, as he sprang from the table,)
the grand ceremony has commenced!—“drop your knife and fork, Monsr. and
get your sketch-book as soon as possible, that you may lose nothing,
for the very moment of _commencing_ is as curious as anything else of
this strange affair.” I seized my sketch-book, and all hands of us
were in an instant in front of the medicine-lodge, ready to see and
to hear all that was to take place. Groups of women and children were
gathered on the tops of their earth-covered wigwams, and all were
screaming, and dogs were howling, and all eyes directed to the prairies
in the West, where was beheld at a mile distant, a solitary individual
descending a prairie 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; bows 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 figure discovered on the prairie continued
to approach with a dignified step and in a right line towards the
village; all eyes were upon him, and he at length made his appearance
(without opposition) within the piquets, and proceeded towards the
centre of the village, where all the chiefs and braves stood ready to
receive him, which they did in a cordial manner, by shaking hands with
him, recognizing him as an old acquaintance, and pronouncing his name
_Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah_ (the first or only man). The body of this strange
personage, which was chiefly naked, was painted with white clay, so as
to resemble at a little distance, a white man; he wore a robe of four
white wolf skins falling back over his shoulders; on his head he had a
splendid head-dress made of two ravens’ skins, and in his left hand 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 transaction.

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) travelled 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-lodge_, which must needs receive a present of some
edged-tool from the owner of every wigwam, that it may be sacrificed
to the water;” for he says, “if this is not done, there will be another
flood, and no one will be saved, as it was with such tools that the big
canoe was made.”

Having visited every lodge or wigwam in 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-lodge_, 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 thirty feet high, and in presence of the
whole village; from whence they can never be recovered, and where they
were, undoubtedly, _sacrificed_ to the Spirit of the Water.

During the first night of this strange character in the village, no
one could tell where he slept; and every 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 the _medicine-lodge_; and
at his heels (in “_Indian file_,” _i. e._ single file, one following
in another’s tracks) all the young men who were candidates for the
self-tortures which were to be inflicted, and for the honours that were
to be bestowed by the chiefs on those who could most manfully endure
them. There were on this occasion about fifty young men who entered
the lists, and as they went into the sacred lodge, each one’s body was
chiefly naked, and covered with clay of different colours; some were
red, others were yellow, and some were covered with white clay, giving
them the appearance of white men. Each one of them carried in his right
hand his _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
postures around its sides, and each one had suspended over his head his
respective weapons and _medicine_, presenting altogether, one of the
most wild and picturesque scenes imaginable.

Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (the first or only man) was in the midst of them,
and having lit and smoked his medicine-pipe for their success; and
having addressed them in a short speech, stimulating and encouraging
them 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 _O-kee-pah Ka-se-kah_ (keeper or
conductor of the ceremonies). He was appointed, and the authority
passed by the presentation of the medicine-pipe, on which they 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 bye, saying “that he was going back to the mountains in the west,
from whence he should assuredly return in just a year from that time,
to open the 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 soon disappeared 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 Letter.

To return to the lodge,—the medicine or mystery-man just appointed,
and who had received his injunctions from Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah, was left
sole conductor and keeper; and according to those injunctions, it was
his duty to lie by a small fire in the centre of the 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 communication 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 to 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 its sides, and
the conductor or mystery-man lying by the fire, crying to the Great
Spirit (+plate+ 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 myself, painted a full-length portrait of this
great magician or high-priest, but a day previous to the commencement
of the ceremonies (in which I 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-pooska_, 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 conducting its secrets, as I before described, came out of the door
and taking me with a firm _professional_ affection by the arm, led me
into this _sanctum sanctorum_, which was strictly guarded from, even
a peep or a gaze from the vulgar, by a vestibule of eight or ten feet
in length, guarded with a double screen or door, and two or three dark
and frowning centinels with spears or war-clubs 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 gain them a quiet admission, and all of us
were comfortably placed on elevated seats, which our conductor soon
prepared for us.

We were then in full view of everything that transpired in the lodge,
having before us the scene exactly, which is represented in the first
of the four pictures. To this seat we returned every morning at
sunrise, and remained until sun-down for four days, the whole time
which these strange scenes occupied.

In addition to the preparations and arrangements of the interior of
this sanctuary, as above described, there was a curious, though a very
strict arrangement of buffalo and human skulls placed on the floor of
the lodge, and between them (which were divided into two parcels),
and in front of the reclining group of young candidates, was a small
and very delicate scaffold, elevated about five feet from the ground,
made of four posts or crotches, not larger than a gun-rod, and placed
some four or five feet apart, supporting four equally delicate rods,
resting in the crotches; 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 understand 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 _I_ 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 ornaments; and seemed, from the devotions paid
to it, to be the very nucleus of their mysteries—the _sanctissimus
sanctorum_, from which seemed to emanate all the sanctity of their
proceedings, and to 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 information of, than what I could
learn by my eyes, at the distance at which I saw it, and from the
silent respect which I saw paid to it. I tried with the doctors, and
all of the _fraternity_ answered me, that that was “_great medicine_,”
assuring me that it “could not be told.” So I quieted my curiosity
as well as I could, by the full conviction that I had a _degree_ or
two yet to take before I could fathom all the arcana of Indian
superstitions; and that this little, seemingly wonderful, relic of
antiquity, symbol of some grand event, or “secret too valuable to be
told,” might have been at last nothing but a silly bunch of strings
and toys, to which they pay some great peculiar regard; giving thereby
to some favourite Spirit or essence an ideal existence, and which,
when called upon to describe, they refuse to do so, calling it “_Great
Medicine_,” for the very reason that there is nothing in it to reveal
or describe.

[Illustration: 67]

Immediately under the little frame or scaffold described, and on the
floor of the lodge was placed a knife, and by the side of it a bundle
of splints or skewers, which were kept in readiness for the infliction
of the cruelties directly to be explained. There were seen also, in
this stage of the affair, a number of cords of rawhide hanging down
from the top of the lodge, and passing through its roof, with which
the young men were to be suspended by the splints passed through their
flesh, and drawn up by men placed on the top of the lodge for the
purpose, as will be described in a few moments.

There were also four articles of great veneration and importance
lying on the floor of the lodge, which were sacks, containing in
each some three or four gallons of water. These also were objects of
superstitious regard, and made with great labour and much ingenuity;
each one of them being constructed of the skin of the buffalo’s neck,
and most elaborately sewed together in the form of a large tortoise
lying on its back, with a bunch of eagle’s quills appended to it as a
tail; and each of them having a stick, shaped like a drum-stick, lying
on them, with which, in a subsequent stage of these ceremonies, as will
be seen, they are beaten upon by several of their mystery-men, as a
part of the music for their strange dances and mysteries. By the side
of these sacks which they call _Eeh-teeh-ka_, are two other articles of
equal importance, which they call _Eeh-na-dee_ (rattles), in the form
of a gourd-shell made also of dried skins, and used at the same time
as the others, in the music (or rather _noise_ and _din_) for their
dances, &c.

These four sacks of water have the appearance of very great
antiquity; and by enquiring of my very ingenious friend and patron,
the _medicine-man_, after the ceremonies were over, he very gravely
told me, that “those four tortoises contained the waters from the
four quarters of the world—that these waters had been contained
therein ever since the settling down of the waters!” I did not think
it best to advance any argument against so ridiculous a theory, and
therefore could not even enquire or learn, at what period they had been
instituted, or how often, or on what occasions, the water in them had
been changed or replenished.

I made several propositions, through my friend Mr. Kipp, the trader
and interpreter, to purchase one of these strange things by offering
them a very liberal price; to which I received in answer that these,
and all the very numerous articles used in these ceremonies, being a
_society property_ were _medicine_, and could not be sold for any
consideration; so I abandoned all thoughts of obtaining anything,
except what I have done by the _medicine_ operation of my pencil, which
was applied to everything, and even upon that they looked with decided
distrust and apprehension, as a sort of theft or sacrilege.

Such then was the group, and such the appearance of the interior of the
medicine-lodge during the three first, and part of the fourth day also,
of the Mandan religious ceremonies. The medicine-man with a group about
him, of young aspirants who were under his sole controul, as was every
article and implement to be used, and the sanctity of this solitary and
gloomy looking place, which could not be trespassed upon by any man’s
presence without his most sovereign permission.

During the three first days of this solemn conclave, there were many
very curious forms and amusements enacted in the open area in the
middle of the village, and in front of the medicine-lodge, by other
members of the community, one of which formed a material part or
link of these strange ceremonials. This very curious and exceedingly
grotesque part of their performance, which they denominated _Bel-lohck
nah-pick_ (the bull-dance) of which I have before spoken, as one of
the avowed objects for which they held this annual fête; 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 “_big canoe_,” of which I have before spoken.

This subject I have selected for my second picture, and the principal
actors in it were eight men, with the entire skins of buffaloes thrown
over their backs, with the horns and hoofs and tails remaining on;
their bodies in a horizontal position, enabling them to imitate the
actions of the buffalo, whilst they were looking out of its eyes as
through a mask (+plate+ 67).

The bodies of these men were chiefly naked and all painted in the most
extraordinary manner, with the nicest adherence to exact similarity;
their limbs, bodies and faces, being in every part covered, either
with black, red, or white paint. Each one of these strange characters
had also a lock of buffalo’s hair tied around his ancles—in his right
hand a rattle, and a slender 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. These 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 them, with the back turned to the big canoe,
was another figure, engaged in the same dance, keeping step with them,
with a similar staff or wand in one hand and a rattle in the other, and
(being four in number) answering again to the four cardinal points. The
bodies of these four young men were chiefly naked, with no other dress
upon them than a beautiful kelt (or quartz-quaw), around the waist,
made of eagles quills and ermine, and very splendid head-dresses
made of the same materials. Two of these figures were painted entirely
black with pounded charcoal and grease, whom they called the “firmament
or night,” and the numerous white spots which were dotted all over
their bodies, they called “stars.” The other two were painted from
head to foot as red as vermilion could make them; these they said
represented the day, and the white streaks which were painted up and
down over their bodies, were “ghosts which the morning rays were
chasing away.”

[Illustration: 68]

These twelve are the only persons actually engaged in this strange
dance, which is each time repeated in the same form, without the
slightest variation. There are, however, a great number of characters
engaged in giving the whole effect and wildness to this strange and
laughable scene, each one acting well his part, and whose offices,
strange and inexplicable as they are, I will endeavour to point out
and explain as well as I can, from what I saw, elucidated by their own
descriptions.

This most remarkable scene, then, which is witnessed more or less often
on each day, takes place in presence of the whole nation, who are
generally gathered around, on the tops of the wigwams or otherwise,
as spectators, whilst the young men are reclining and fasting in the
lodge as above described. 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-dance_,
which is then commenced and continued for fifteen minutes or more in
perfect time, and without cessation or intermission. When the music and
dancing stop, which are always perfectly simultaneous, the whole nation
raise the huzza! and a deafening shout of approbation; 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 play their parts in this
grand spectacle, are numerous and well worth description. By the
side of the big canoe are seen two men with the skins of grizzly
bears thrown over them, using the skins as a mask, over their heads.
These ravenous animals are continually growling and threatening to
devour everything before them and interfering with the forms of their
religious ceremony. To appease them, the women are continually bringing
and placing before them dishes of meat, which are as often snatched up
and carried to the prairie, by two men whose bodies are painted black
and their heads white, whom they call bald eagles, who are darting 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 the food away from
them and devour it; thereby inculcating (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 ornamenting their bodies for the occasion.

During each and every one of these dances, the old men who beat upon
the sacks and sing, are earnestly chanting forth their supplications
to the Great Spirit, for the continuation of his influence in sending
them buffaloes to supply them with food during the year; they are
administering courage and fortitude to the young men in the lodge,
by telling them, that “the Great Spirit has opened his ears in their
behalf—that the very atmosphere all about them is peace—that their
women and children can hold the mouth of the grizzly bear—that they
have invoked from day to day O-kee-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 exultations, an instant scream burst forth from the tops of the
lodges!—men, women, dogs and all, seemed actually to howl and shudder
with alarm, as they fixed their glaring eye-balls upon the prairie
bluff, about a mile in the west, down the side of which a man was seen
descending at full speed towards the village! This strange character
darted about in a zig-zag course in all directions on the prairie,
like a boy in pursuit of a butterfly, until he approached the piquets
of the village, when it was discovered that his body was entirely
naked, and painted as black as a negro, with pounded charcoal and
bear’s grease; his body was therefore everywhere of a shining black,
except occasionally white rings of an inch or more in diameter, which
were marked here and there all over him; and frightful indentures of
white around his mouth, resembling canine teeth. Added to his hideous
appearance, he gave the most frightful shrieks and screams as he
dashed through the village and entered the terrified group, which was
composed (in that quarter) chiefly of females, who had assembled to
witness the amusements which were transpiring around the “big canoe.”

This unearthly looking creature carried in his two hands a wand or
staff of eight or nine feet in length, with a red ball at the end of
it, which he continually slid on the ground a-head of him as he ran.
All eyes in the village, save those of the persons engaged in the
dance, were centred upon him, and he made a desperate rush towards
the women, who screamed for protection as they were endeavouring to
retreat; and falling in groups upon each other as they were struggling
to get out of his reach. In this moment of general terror and alarm
there was an instant check! and all for a few moments were as silent as
death.

The old master of ceremonies, who had run from his position at the
big canoe, had met this monster of fiends, and having thrust the
_medicine-pipe_ before him, held him still and immoveable under its
charm! This check gave 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 excitement, 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 more striking group than these two
individuals did for a few moments, with their eye-balls set in direst
mutual hatred upon each other; both struggling for the supremacy,
relying on the potency of their medicine or mystery. The one held in
check, with his body painted black, representing (or rather assuming
to be) his sable majesty, O-kee-hee-de (the Evil Spirit), frowning
everlasting vengeance 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 mysteries) had been thus fully tested and acknowledged, and
the women had had requisite time to withdraw from the reach of this
fiendish monster, the pipe was very gradually withdrawn from before
him, and he seemed delighted to recover the use of his limbs again,
and power of changing 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 further information, which I am constrained to
give, of the plight in which this demon of terror and vulgarity made
his _entrée_ into the midst of the Mandan village, and to the centre
and nucleus of their first and greatest religious ceremony.

Then, to proceed: I said 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 teha,
ung gee an ung hutch tow a tow ah ches menny. Ung gee ah to to wun nee,
ahkst to wan ee eigh’ s ta w._

In this plight, in which I have not dared fully to represent him in
the picture, he pursued the groups of females, spreading dismay and
alarm wherever he went, and consequently producing the awkward and
exceedingly laughable predicament in which he was placed by the sudden
check from the medicine-pipe, as I have above stated, when all eyes
were intently fixed upon him, and all joined in rounds of applause for
the success of the magic spell that was placed upon him; all voices
were raised in shouts of satisfaction 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 had 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 the buffalo-dance was going on, and having (apparently, par
accident) swaggered 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 ung ee aht gwaht ee o nunghths tcha ho a,
tummee oxt no ah, ughstono ah hi en en ah nahxt gwi aht gahtch gun ne.
Gwee en on doatcht chee en aht gunne how how en ahxst tchu!_

After this he paid his visits to three others of the eight, in
succession, receiving as before the deafening shouts of approbation
which pealed 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 both hands full of yellow dirt—dashed it into his face and
eyes, and all over him, and his body being covered with grease, took
instantly a different hue. He seemed heart-broken at this signal
disgrace, and commenced crying most vehemently, when, _a l’instant_,
another caught his _wand_ from his hand, 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 bluffs, from whence he
first appeared.

At the moment of this signal victory, and when all eyes lost sight of
him as he disappeared over the bluffs, the whole village united their
voices in shouts of satisfaction. The bull-dance then stopped, and
preparations were instantly made for the commencement of the cruelties
which were to take place within the lodge, leaving us to draw, from
what had just transpired, the following beautiful moral:—

That in the midst of their religious ceremonies, the Evil Spirit
(O-kee-hee-de) made his entrée for the purpose of doing mischief, and
of disturbing their worship—that he was held in check, and defeated
by the superior influence and virtue of the _medicine-pipe_, and at
last, driven in disgrace out of the village, by the very part of the
community whom he came to abuse.

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 young men sustain themselves in this most extreme and
excruciating ordeal. The chiefs having seated themselves on one side
of the lodge, dressed out in their robes and splendid head-dresses—the
band of music seated and arranged themselves in another part; and the
old master of ceremonies having placed himself in front of a small
fire in the centre of the lodge, with 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 reclining,
as I have before mentioned, a part of the group, whilst others of them
have passed the ordeal of self-tortures, and have been removed out of
the lodge; and others still are seen in the very act of submitting
to them, which were inflicted in the following manner:—After having
removed the _sanctissimus sanctorum_, or little scaffold, of which I
before spoke, and having removed also the buffalo and human skulls
from the floor, and attached them to the posts of the lodge; and two
men having taken their positions near the middle of the lodge, for the
purpose of inflicting the tortures—the one with the scalping-knife, and
the other with the bunch of splints (which I have before mentioned)
in his hand; one at a time of the young fellows, already emaciated
with fasting, and thirsting, and waking, for nearly four days and
nights, advanced from the side of the lodge, and placed himself on his
hands and feet, or otherwise, as best suited for the performance of
the operation, where he submitted to the cruelties in the following
manner:—An inch or more of the flesh on each shoulder, or each breast
was taken up between the thumb and finger by the man who held the
knife in his right hand; and the knife, which had been ground sharp on
both edges, and then hacked and notched with the blade of another, to
make it produce as much pain as possible, was forced through the flesh
below the fingers, and being withdrawn, was followed with a splint or
skewer, from the other, who held a bunch of such in his left hand, and
was ready to force them through the wound. There were then two cords
lowered down from the top of the lodge (by men who were placed on the
lodge outside, for the purpose), which were fastened to these splints
or skewers, and they instantly began to haul him up; he was thus raised
until his body was suspended from the ground where he rested, until
the knife and a splint were passed through the flesh or integuments in
a similar manner on each arm below the shoulder (over the _brachialis
externus_), below the elbow (over the _extensor carpi radialis_), on
the thighs (over the _vastus externus_), and below the knees (over the
_peroneus_).

In some instances they remained in a reclining position on the ground
until this painful operation was finished, which was performed, in all
instances, exactly on the same parts of the body and limbs; and which,
in its progress, occupied some five or six minutes.

Each one was then instantly raised with the cords, until the weight of
his body was suspended by them, and then, while the blood was streaming
down their limbs, the bystanders hung upon the splints each man’s
appropriate shield, bow and quiver, &c.; and in many instances, the
skull of a buffalo 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, which might otherwise have taken 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 additional
weights which were attached to them, was raised six or eight inches by
the skewers; and their heads sunk forward on the breasts, or thrown
backwards, in a much more frightful condition, according to the way in
which they were hung up.

[Illustration: 69]

The unflinching fortitude, with which every one of them bore this part
of the torture surpassed credulity; each one as the knife was passed
through his flesh sustained an unchangeable countenance; and several of
them, seeing me making sketches, beckoned me to look at their faces,
which I watched through all this horrid operation, without being able
to detect anything but the pleasantest smiles as they looked me in
the eye, while I could hear the knife rip through the flesh, and feel
enough of it myself, to start involuntary and uncontroullable tears
over my cheeks.

When raised to the condition above described, and completely suspended
by the cords, the sanguinary hands, through which he had just passed,
turned back to perform a similar operation on another who was
ready, and 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 exquisite agony, gather
around him, when one of the number advances towards him in a sneering
manner, and commences turning him around with a pole which he brings
in his hand for the purpose. This is done in a gentle manner at first;
but gradually increased, when the brave fellow, whose proud spirit
can controul its agony no longer, burst out in the most lamentable
and heart-rending cries that the human voice is capable of producing,
crying forth a prayer to the Great Spirit to support and protect him
in this dreadful trial; and continually 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
scrutiny 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 and his strength have given
out, leaving him to hang entirely still, and apparently lifeless; when
his tongue is distended from his mouth, and his _medicine-bag_, which
he has affectionately and superstitiously clung to with his left hand,
has dropped to the ground; the signal is given to the men on top of the
lodge, by gently striking the cord with the pole below, when they very
gradually and carefully lower him to the ground.

In this helpless condition he lies, like a loathsome corpse to look
at, though in the keeping (as they call it) of the Great Spirit, whom
he trusts will protect him, and enable him to get up and walk away.
As soon 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 disengaging him from the cords by which he has been
hung up; but leaving all the others with their weights, &c. hanging to
his flesh.

In 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
offer him aid, as he is here enjoying the most valued privilege which a
Mandan can boast of, that of “trusting his life to the keeping of the
Great Spirit,” in this time of extreme peril.

As soon as he is seen to get 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 buffalo
skull before him; and here, in the most earnest and humble manner, by
holding up the little finger of his left hand to the Great Spirit, he
expresses to Him, in a speech of a few words, his willingness to give
it as a sacrifice; when he lays it on the dried buffalo skull, where
the other chops it off near the hand, with a blow of the hatchet!

Nearly all of the young men whom I saw passing this horrid ordeal,
gave in the above manner, the little finger of the left hand; and I
saw also several, who immediately afterwards (and apparently with very
little concern or emotion), with a similar speech, extended in the same
way, the _fore_-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 mutilation had thus been carried quite far
enough; but I have since examined several of the head chiefs and
dignitaries 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 incontestible proof,
by five or six corresponding scars on each arm, and each breast, and
each leg, that they had so many times in their lives submitted to this
almost incredible operation, which seems to be optional with them;
and the oftener they volunteer to go through it, the more famous they
become in the estimation of their tribe.

No bandages are applied to the fingers which have been amputated, nor
any arteries taken up; nor is any attention whatever, paid to them or
the other wounds; but they are left (as they say) “for the Great Spirit
to cure, who will surely take good care of them.” It is a remarkable
fact (which I learned from a close inspection of their wounds from day
to day) that the bleeding is but very slight and soon ceases, probably
from the fact of their extreme exhaustion and debility, caused by want
of sustenance and sleep, which checks the natural circulation, and
admirably at the same time prepares them to meet the severity of these
tortures without the same degree of sensibility and pain, which, under
other circumstances, might result in inflammation and death.

During the whole of the time of this cruel part of these most
extraordinary inflictions, the chiefs and dignitaries of the tribe are
looking on, to decide who are the hardiest and “stoutest hearted”—who
can hang the longest by his flesh before he faints, and who will be
soonest up, after he has been down; that they may know whom to appoint
to lead a war-party, or place at the most honourable and desperate
post. The four old men are incessantly beating upon the sacks of water
and singing the whole time, with their voices strained to the highest
key, vaunting forth, for the encouragement of the young men, the power
and efficacy of the _medicine-pipe_, which has disarmed the monster
O-kee-hee-de (or Evil Spirit), and driven him from the village, and
will be sure to protect them and watch over them through their present
severe trial.

As soon as six or eight had passed the ordeal as above 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 commencement of this part of the cruelties was
given by the old master of ceremonies, who again ran out as in
the buffalo-dance, and leaning against the big canoe, with his
_medicine-pipe_ in his hand, began to cry. This was done several times
in the afternoon, as often as there were six or eight who had passed
the ordeal just described within the lodge, who were then taken out in
the open area, in the presence of the whole village, with the buffalo
skulls and other weights attached to their flesh, and dragging on the
ground! There were then in readiness, and prepared for the purpose,
about twenty young men, selected of equal height and equal age; with
their bodies chiefly naked, with beautiful (and similar) head-dresses
of war-eagles’ 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 big canoe, with all possible speed,
raising their voices in screams and yelps to the highest pitch that was
possible, 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 they
call _Eh-ke-nah-ka-nah-pick_ (the last race, +plate+ 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, with his weights 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 commencement 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 and
defeating 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 trapezius muscle, which is necessary for
the support of the great weight of their bodies, and which, as I have
before mentioned, are withdrawn as soon as he is lowered down—but all
the others, on the legs and arms, seem to be very ingeniously passed
through the flesh and integuments without taking up the muscle, and
even these, to be broken out, require 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 frightful 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
privations 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 issues his repeated prayers, and
entrusts 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 or 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 superstition,
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.

In this “last race,” which was the struggle that finally closed their
sufferings, 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, and when they were
thus passed through this shocking ordeal, the medicine-men and the
chiefs returned to the interior, where as many more were soon prepared,
and underwent a similar treatment; 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 _all_, 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 apprehensions 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 him, in such way as he may choose, and some of those
modes are far more extraordinary than the one which I have just named.
Several of the Traders, who have 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 looking on, there was one whose flesh on the arms
was so strong that the weights could not be left, and he dragged them
with his body to the river by the side of the village, where he set a
stake fast in the ground on the top 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
correctness of the established fact of the Indian’s superior stoicism
and power of endurance, although some recent writers have, from motives
of envy, from ignorance, or something else, taken great pains to cut
the poor Indian short in everything, and in _this_, even as if it were
a virtue.

I am ready to accord to them in this particular, the palm; the credit
of outdoing anything and everybody, and of enduring more than civilized
man ever aspired to or ever thought of. My heart has sickened also
with disgust for so abominable and ignorant a custom, and still I
stand ready with all my heart, to excuse and forgive them for adhering
so strictly to an ancient celebration, founded in superstitions and
mysteries, of which they know not the origin, and constituting a
material part and feature in the code and forms of their religion.

Reader, I will return with you a moment to the medicine-lodge, which is
just to be closed, and then we will 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
medicine-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 be given as a sacrifice
to the water, and leaving the lodge securely fastened, he approached
the bank of the river, when all the medicine-men attended 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 speaking, made a sacrifice to the water.
This part of the affair took place just exactly at sun-down, and closed
the scene, being the end or finale of the _Mandan religious ceremony_.

[Illustration: 70]

[Illustration: 71]

_The reader will 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 me; which I offer for the satisfaction of the
  world, who read the above account._

“_We hereby certify, that we witnessed, in company with Mr. Catlin, in
the Mandan Village, the ceremonies represented in the four paintings,
and described in his Notes, to which this Certificate refers; and that
he has therein faithfully represented those scenes as we saw them
transacted without any addition or exaggeration._

                                 “+J. Kipp+, _Agent Amer. Fur Company_.
                                  +L. Crawford+, _Clerk_.
  “_Mandan Village, July 20, 1833._  +Abraham Bogard+.”

The strange country that I am in—its excitements—its accidents and
wild incidents which startle me at almost every moment, prevent me
from any very elaborate disquisition 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 procure hereafter in explanation of
these unaccountable mysteries, yet do I fear that there would be
that inexplicable difficulty that hangs over most of the customs and
traditions of these simple people, who have no history to save facts
and systems from falling into the most absurd and disjointed fable and
ignorant fiction.

What few plausible inferences I have as yet been able to draw from the
above strange and peculiar transactions I will set forth, but with
some diffidence, hoping and trusting that by further intimacy and
familiarity with these people I may yet arrive at more satisfactory and
important results.

That these people should have a tradition of the Flood is by no means
surprising; as I have learned from every tribe I have visited, that
they all have some high mountain in their vicinity, where they insist
upon it the big canoe landed; but that these people should hold an
annual celebration of the event, and the season of that decided by such
circumstances as the full leaf of the willow, and the medicine-lodge
opened by such a man as Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (who appears to be a white
man), and making his appearance “from the high-mountains in the West;”
and some other circumstances, is surely a very remarkable thing, and
requires some extraordinary attention.

This Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (first or only man) is undoubtedly some mystery
or medicine-man of the tribe, who has gone out on the prairie on the
evening previous, and having dressed and painted himself for the
occasion, comes into the village in the morning, endeavouring to keep
up the semblance of reality; for their tradition says, that at a very
ancient period such a man did actually come from the West—that his
body was of the white colour, as this man’s body is represented—that
he wore a robe of four white wolf skins—his head-dress was made of two
raven’s skins—and in his left hand was a huge 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 stopped in his _big 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 edged-tools to the water, for of such things the
big 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 performed their rites to the full letter, they might be assured of
the fact, that they would be the favourite people of the Almighty, and
would always have enough to eat and drink; and that so soon as they
should depart in one tittle from these forms, they might be assured,
that their race would decrease, and finally run out; and that they
might date their nation’s calamity to that omission or neglect.”

These people have, no doubt, been long living under the dread of such
an injunction, and in the fear of departing from it; and while they are
living in total ignorance of its origin, the world must remain equally
ignorant of much of its meaning, as they needs must be of all Indian
customs resting on ancient traditions, which soon run into fables,
having lost all their system, 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,
somewhat 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 these people must have had some proximity to some part of the
civilized world; or that missionaries or others have been formerly
among them, inculcating the Christian religion and the Mosaic account
of the Flood; which is, in this and some other respects, decidedly
different from the theory which most natural people have distinctly
established of that event.

There are other strong, and almost decisive proofs in my opinion, in
support of the assertion, which are to be drawn from the diversity
of colour in their hair and complexions, as I have before described,
as well as from their tradition just related, of the “_first or only
man_,” whose body was white, and who came from the West, telling them
of the destruction of the earth by water, and instructing them in the
forms of these mysteries; and, in addition to the above, I will add
the two following very curious stories, which I had from several of
their old and dignified chiefs, and which are, no doubt, standing and
credited traditions of the tribe.

“The Mandans (people of the pheasants) were the first people created
in the world, and they originally lived inside of the earth; they
raised many vines, and one of them had grown up through a hole in
the earth, over head, and one of their young men climbed up it until
he came out on the top of the ground, on the bank of the river, where
the Mandan village stands. He looked around, and admired the beautiful
country and prairies about him—saw many buffaloes—killed one 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 witnessed 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
opportunity, when there was no one present. When she got part of the
way up, the vine broke under the great weight of her body, and let her
down. 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 great 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, O-kee-hee-de (the Evil Spirit, the black
fellow 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
daughter, 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 buffalo-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 done.

“The friends of the girl soon after endeavoured to disgrace her, by
telling her that she was _enciente_, which she did not deny. She
declared her innocence at the same time, and boldly defied any man
in the village to come forward and accuse her. This raised a great
excitement in the village, and as no one could stand forth to accuse
her, she was looked upon as _great medicine_. She soon after went off
secretly to the upper Mandan village, where the child was born.

“Great search was made for her before she was found; as it was
expected that the child would also be great _medicine_ or mystery,
and of great importance to the existence and welfare of the tribe.
They were induced to this belief from the very strange manner of its
conception and birth, and were soon confirmed in it from the wonderful
things which it did at an early age. They say, that amongst other
miracles which he performed, when the Mandans were like to starve, he
gave them four buffalo bulls, which filled the whole village—leaving as
much meat as there was before they had eaten; saying that these four
bulls would supply them for ever. Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (the first or only
man) was bent on the destruction of the child, and after making many
fruitless searches for it, found it hidden in a dark place, and put it
to death by throwing it into the river.

“When O-kee-hee-de (the Evil Spirit) heard of the death of this child,
he sought for Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah with intent to kill him. He traced
him a long distance, and at length found him at _Heart River_, about
seventy miles below the village, with the big medicine-pipe in his
hand, the charm or mystery of which protects him from all of his
enemies. They soon agreed, however, to become friends, smoked the big
pipe together, and returned to the Mandan village. The Evil Spirit was
satisfied; and Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah told the Mandans never to pass Heart
River to live, for it was the centre of the world, and to live beyond
it would be destruction to them; and he named it _Nat-com-pa-sa-hah_
(heart or centre of the world).”

Such are a few of the principal traditions of these people, which I
have thought proper to give in this place, and I have given them in
their own way, with all the imperfections and absurd inconsistencies
which should be expected to characterize the history of all ignorant
and superstitious people who live in a state of simple and untaught
nature, with no other means of perpetuating historical events, than by
oral traditions.

I advance these vague stories then, as I have done, and shall do in
other instances, not in support of any theory, but merely as I have
heard them related by the Indians; and preserved them, as I have
everything else that I could meet in the Indian habits and character,
for the information of the world, who may get more time to theorize
than I have at present; and who may consider better than I can, how far
such traditions should be taken as evidence of the facts, that these
people have for a long period preserved and perpetuated an imperfect
knowledge of the Deluge—of the appearance and death of a Saviour—and of
the transgressions of mother Eve.

I am not yet able to learn from these people whether they have any
distinct theory of the creation; as they seem to date nothing further
back than their own existence as a people; saying (as I have before
mentioned), that they were the first people created; involving the
glaring absurdities that they were the only people on earth before
the Flood, and the only one saved was a white man; or that they were
created inside of the earth, as their tradition says; and that they did
not make their appearance on its outer surface until after the Deluge.
When an Indian story is told, it is like all other gifts, “to be taken
for what it is worth,” and for any seeming inconsistency in their
traditions there is no remedy; for as far as I have tried to reconcile
them by reasoning with, or questioning them, I have been entirely
defeated; and more than that, have generally incurred their distrust
and ill-will. One of the Mandan doctors told me very gravely a few days
since, that the earth was a large tortoise, that it carried the dirt on
its back—that a tribe of people, who are now dead, and whose faces were
white, used to dig down very deep in this ground to catch _badgers_;
and that one day they stuck a knife through the tortoise-shell, and it
sunk down so that the water ran over its back, and drowned all but one
man. And on the next day while I was painting his portrait, he told me
there were _four tortoises_,—one in the North—one in the East—one in
the South, and one in the West; that each one of these rained ten days,
and the water covered over the earth.

These ignorant and conflicting accounts, and both from the same man,
give as good a demonstration, perhaps, of what I have above mentioned,
as to the inefficiency of Indian traditions as anything I could at
present mention. They might, perhaps, have been in this instance
however the creeds of different sects, or of different priests amongst
them, who often advance diametrically opposite theories and traditions
relative to history and mythology.

And however ignorant and ridiculous they may seem, they are yet worthy
of a little further consideration, as relating to a number of curious
circumstances connected with the unaccountable religious ceremonies
which I have just described.

The Mandan chiefs and doctors, in all their feasts, where the pipe
is lit and about to be passed around, deliberately propitiate the
good-will and favour of the Great Spirit, by extending the stem of
the pipe _upwards_ before they smoke it themselves; and also as
deliberately and as strictly offering the stem to the four _cardinal
points_ in succession, and then drawing a whiff through it, passing it
around amongst the group.

The _annual religious ceremony_ invariably lasts _four_ days, and
the other following circumstances attending these strange forms, and
seeming to have some allusion to the _four_ cardinal points, or the
“four tortoises,” seem to me to be worthy of further notice. _Four_
men are selected by Nu-mohk-muck-a-nah (as I have before said), to
cleanse out and prepare the medicine-lodge for the occasion—one he
calls from the _north_ part of the village—one from the _east_—one from
the _south_, and one from the _west_. The _four_ sacks of water, in
form of large tortoises, resting on the floor of the lodge and before
described, would seem to be typical of the same thing; and also the
_four_ buffalo, and the _four_ human skulls resting on the floor of the
same lodge—the _four_ couples of dancers in the “bull-dance,” as before
described, and also the _four_ intervening dancers in the same dance,
and also described

The bull-dance in front of the medicine-lodge, repeated on the _four_
days, is danced _four_ times on the first day, _eight_ times on the
second, _twelve_ times on the third, and _sixteen_ times on the
_fourth_; (adding _four_ dances on each of the _four_ days,) which
added together make _forty_, the exact number of days that it rained
upon the earth, according to the Mosaic account, to produce the Deluge.
There are _four_ sacrifices of black and blue cloths erected over the
door of the medicine-lodge—the visits of O-kee-hee-de (or Evil Spirit)
were paid to _four_ of the buffaloes in the buffalo-dance, as above
described; and in every instance, the young men who underwent the
tortures before explained, had _four_ splints or skewers run through
the flesh on their legs—_four_ through the arms and _four_ through the
body.

Such is a brief account of these strange scenes which I have just been
witnessing, and such my brief history of the Mandans. I might write
much more on them, giving yet a volume on their stories and traditions;
but it would be a volume of fables, and scarce worth recording. A
nation of Indians in their primitive condition, where there are no
historians, have but a temporary historical existence, for the reasons
above advanced, and their history, what can be certainly learned of it,
may be written in a very small compass.

I have dwelt longer on the history and customs of these people than I
have or shall on any other tribe, in all probability, and that from the
fact that I have found them a very peculiar people, as will have been
seen by my notes.

From these very numerous and striking peculiarities in their personal
appearance—their customs—traditions and language, I have been led
conclusively to believe that they are a people of decidedly a different
origin from that of any other tribe in these regions.

From these reasons, as well as from the fact that they are a small and
feeble tribe, against whom the powerful tribe of Sioux are waging a
deadly war with the prospect of their extermination; and who with their
limited numbers, are not likely to hold out long in their struggle for
existence, I have taken more pains to pourtray their whole character,
than my limited means will allow me to bestow upon other tribes.

From the ignorant and barbarous and disgusting customs just recited,
the world would naturally infer, that these people must be the most
cruel and inhuman beings in the world—yet, such is not the case, and it
becomes my duty to say it; a better, more honest, hospitable and kind
people, as a community, are not to be found in the world. No set of men
that ever I associated with have better hearts than the Mandans, and
none are quicker to embrace and welcome a white man than they are—none
will press him closer to his bosom, that the pulsation of his heart may
be felt, than a Mandan; and no man in any country will keep his word
and guard his honour more closely.

The shocking and disgusting custom that I have just described, sickens
the heart and even the stomach of a traveller in the country, and he
weeps for their ignorance—he pities them with all his heart for their
blindness, and laments that the light of civilization, of agriculture
and religion cannot be extended to them, and that their hearts which
are good enough, could not be turned to embrace something more rational
and conducive to their true happiness.

Many would doubtless ask, whether such a barbarous custom could be
eradicated from these people? and whether their thoughts and tastes,
being turned to agriculture and religion, could be made to abandon the
dark and random channel in which they are drudging, and made to flow in
the light and life of civilization?

To this query I answer _yes_. Although this is a custom of long
standing, being a part of their religion; and probably valued as one
of their dearest rights; and notwithstanding the difficulty of making
inroads upon the religion of a people in whose country there is no
severence of opinions, and consequently no division into different
sects, with different creeds to shake their faith; I still believe, and
I _know_, that by a judicious and persevering effort, this abominable
custom, and others, might be extinguished, and the beautiful green
fields about the Mandan village might be turned into productive
gardens, and the waving green bluffs that are spread in the surrounding
distance, might be spotted with lowing kine, instead of the sneaking
wolves and the hobbled war-horses that are now stalking about them.

All ignorant and superstitious people, it is a well-known fact, are
the most fixed and stubborn in their religious opinions, and perhaps
the most difficult to divert from their established belief, from the
very fact that they are the most difficult to reason with. Here is
an ignorant race of human beings, who have from time immemorial been
in the habit of worshipping in their own way, and of enjoying their
religious opinions without ever having heard any one to question their
correctness; and in those opinions they are quiet and satisfied, and
it requires a patient, gradual, and untiring effort to convince such
a people that they are wrong, and to work the desired change in their
belief, and consequently in their actions.

It is decidedly my opinion, however, that such a thing _can_ be done,
and I do not believe there is a race of wild people on earth where the
experiment could be more successfully made than amongst the kind and
hospitable Mandans, nor any place where the Missionary labours of pious
and industrious men would be more sure to succeed, or more certain to
be rewarded in the world to come.

I deem such a trial of patience and perseverance with these people of
great importance, and well worth the experiment. One which I shall hope
soon to see accomplished, and which, if properly conducted, I am sure
will result in success. Severed as they are from the contaminating and
counteracting vices which oppose and thwart most of the best efforts
of the Missionaries along the frontier, and free from the almost fatal
prejudices which they have there to contend with; they present a
better field for the labours of such benevolent teachers than they
have yet worked in, and a far better chance than they have yet had of
proving to the world that the poor Indian is not a brute—that he is
a human and humane being, that he is capable of improvement—and that
his mind is a beautiful blank on which anything can be written if the
proper means be taken.

The Mandans being but a small tribe, of two thousand only, and living
all in two villages, in sight of each other, and occupying these
permanently, without roaming about like other neighbouring tribes,
offer undoubtedly, the best opportunity for such an experiment of any
tribe in the country. The land about their villages is of the best
quality for ploughing and grazing, and the water just such as would
be desired. Their villages are fortified with piquets or stockades,
which protect them from the assaults of their enemies at home; and
the introduction of agriculture (which would supply them with the
necessaries and luxuries of life, without the necessity of continually
exposing their lives to their more numerous enemies on the plains, when
they are seeking in the chase the means of their subsistence) would
save them from the continual wastes of life, to which, in their wars
and the chase they are continually exposed, and which are calculated
soon to result in their extinction.

I deem it not folly nor idle to say that these people _can be saved_,
nor officious to suggest to some of the very many excellent and
pious men, who are almost throwing away the best energies of their
lives along the debased frontier, that if they would introduce the
ploughshare and their prayers amongst these people, who are so far
separated from the taints and contaminating vices of the frontier, they
would soon see their most ardent desires accomplished and be able to
solve to the world the perplexing enigma, by presenting a nation of
savages, civilized and christianized (and consequently _saved_), in the
heart of the American wilderness.




                             LETTER—No. 23.

                  MINATAREE VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Soon after witnessing the curious scenes described in the former
Letters, I changed my position to the place from whence I am now
writing—to the village of the Minatarees, which is also located on
the west bank of the Missouri river, and only eight miles above the
Mandans. On my way down the river in my canoe, I passed this village
without attending to their earnest and clamorous invitations for me to
come ashore, and it will thus be seen that I am retrograding a little,
to see all that is to be seen in this singular country.

I have been residing here some weeks, and am able already to say of
these people as follows:—

The Minatarees (people of the willows) are a small tribe of about 1500
souls, residing in three villages of earth-covered lodges, on the
banks of Knife river; a small stream, so called, meandering through
a beautiful and extensive prairie, and uniting its waters with the
Missouri.

This small community is undoubtedly a part of the tribe of Crows, of
whom I have already spoken, living at the base of the Rocky Mountains,
who have at some remote period, either in their war or hunting
excursions, been run off by their enemy, and their retreat having been
prevented, have thrown themselves upon the hospitality of the Mandans,
to whom they have looked for protection, and under whose wing they are
now living in a sort of confederacy, ready to intermarry and also to
join, as they often have done, in the common defence of their country.

In language and personal appearance, as well as in many of their
customs, they are types of the Crows; yet having adopted and so long
lived under its influence, the system of the Mandans, they are much
like them in many respects, and continually assimilating to the modes
of their patrons and protectors. Amongst their vague and various
traditions they have evidently some disjointed authority for the manner
in which they came here; but no account of the time. They say, that
they came poor—without wigwams or horses—were nearly all women, as
their warriors had been killed off in their flight; that the Mandans
would not take them into their village, nor let them come nearer than
where they are now living, and there assisted them to build their
villages. From these circumstances their wigwams have been constructed
exactly in the same manner as those of the Mandans, which I have
already described, and entirely distinct from any custom to be seen in
the Crow tribe.

Notwithstanding the long familiarity in which they have lived with the
Mandans, and the complete adoption of most of their customs, yet it is
almost an unaccountable fact, that there is scarcely a man in the tribe
who can speak half a dozen words of the Mandan language; although on
the other hand, the Mandans are most of them able to converse in the
Minataree tongue; leaving us to conclude, either that the Minatarees
are a very inert and stupid people, or that the Mandan language (which
is most probably the case) being different from any other language in
the country, is an exceedingly difficult one to learn.

The principal village of the Minatarees which is built upon the bank
of the Knife river (+plate+ 70), contains forty or fifty earth-covered
wigwams, from forty to fifty feet in diameter, and being elevated,
overlooks the other two which are on lower ground and almost lost
amidst their numerous corn fields and other profuse vegetation which
cover the earth with their luxuriant growth.

The scenery along the banks of this little river, from village to
village, is quite peculiar and curious; rendered extremely so by the
continual wild and garrulous groups of men, women, and children, who
are wending their way along its winding shores, or dashing and plunging
through its blue waves, enjoying the luxury of swimming, of which both
sexes seem to be passionately fond. Others are paddling about in their
tub-like canoes, made of the skins of buffaloes; and every now and
then, are to be seen their sudatories, or vapour-baths (+plate+ 71),
where steam is raised by throwing water on to heated stones; and the
patient jumps from his sweating-house and leaps into the river in the
highest state of perspiration, as I have more fully described whilst
speaking of the bathing of the Mandans.

The chief sachem of this tribe is a very ancient and patriarchal
looking man, by the name of Eeh-tohk-pah-shee-pee-shah (the black
moccasin), and counts, undoubtedly, more than an hundred _snows_. I
have been for some days an inmate of his hospitable lodge, where he
sits tottering with age, and silently reigns sole monarch of his little
community around him, who are continually dropping in to cheer his
sinking energies, and render him their homage. His voice and his sight
are nearly gone; but the gestures of his hands are yet energetic and
youthful, and freely speak the language of his kind heart.

I have been treated in the kindest manner by this old chief; and have
painted his portrait (+plate+ 72) as he was seated on the floor of his
wigwam, smoking his pipe, whilst he was recounting over to me some of
the extraordinary feats of his life, with a beautiful Crow robe wrapped
around him, and his hair wound up in a conical form upon his head, and
fastened with a small wooden pin, to keep it in its place.

This man has many distinct recollections of Lewis and Clarke, who were
the first explorers of this country, and who crossed the Rocky
Mountains thirty years ago. It will be seen by reference to their very
interesting history of their tour, that they were treated with great
kindness by this man; and that they in consequence constituted him
chief of the tribe, with the consent of his people; and he has remained
their chief ever since. He enquired very earnestly for “Red Hair” and
“Long Knife” (as he had ever since termed Lewis and Clarke), from the
fact, that one had red hair (an unexampled thing in his country), and
the other wore a broad sword which gained for him the appellation of
“Long Knife.”

[Illustration: 72]

[Illustration: 73]

[Illustration: 74]

I have told him that “Long Knife” has been many years dead; and that
“Red Hair” is yet living in St. Louis, and no doubt, would be glad to
hear of him; at which he seemed much pleased, and has signified to me
that he will make me bearer of some peculiar dispatches to him.[5]

The name by which these people are generally called (Grosventres) is
one given them by the French Traders, and has probably been applied to
them with some degree of propriety or fitness, as contradistinguished
from the Mandans, amongst whom these Traders were living; and who
are a small race of Indians, being generally at or below the average
stature of man; whilst the Minatarees are generally tall and heavily
built. There is no tribe in the western wilds, perhaps, who are better
entitled to the style of warlike, than the Minatarees; for they, unlike
the Mandans, are continually carrying war into their enemies’ country;
oftentimes drawing the poor Mandans into unnecessary broils, and
suffering so much themselves in their desperate war-excursions, that I
find the proportion of women to the number of men as two or three to
one, through the tribe.

The son of Black Moccasin, whose name is Ee-a-chin-che-a (the red
thunder), and who is reputed one of the most desperate warriors of his
tribe, I have also painted at full length, in his war-dress (+plate+
73), with his bow in his hand, his quiver slung, and his shield upon
his arm. In this plight, _sans_ head-dress, _sans_ robe, and _sans_
everything that might be an useless incumbrance—with the body chiefly
naked, and profusely bedaubed with red and black paint, so as to form
an almost perfect disguise, the Indian warriors invariably sally forth
to war; save the chief, who always plumes himself, and leads on his
little band, tendering himself to his enemies a conspicuous mark, with
all his ornaments and trophies upon him; that his enemies, if they get
him, may get a prize worth the fighting for.

Besides chiefs and warriors to be admired in this little tribe, there
are many beautiful and voluptuous looking women, who are continually
crowding in throngs, and gazing upon a stranger; and possibly shedding
more bewitching smiles from a sort of necessity, growing out of the
great disparity in numbers between them and the rougher sex, to which I
have before alluded.

From the very numerous groups of these that have from day to day
constantly pressed upon me, overlooking the operations of my brush;
I have been unable to get more than one who would consent to have
her portrait painted, owing to some fear or dread of harm that might
eventually ensue in consequence; or from a natural coyness or timidity,
which is surpassing all description amongst these wild tribes, when in
presence of strangers.

The one whom I have painted (+plate+ 74) is a descendant from the old
chief; and though not the most beautiful, is yet a fair sample of
them, and dressed in a beautiful costume of the mountain-sheep skin,
handsomely garnished with porcupine quills and beads. This girl was
almost _compelled_ to stand for her picture by her relatives who urged
her on, whilst she modestly declined, offering as her excuse that “she
was not pretty enough, and that her picture would be laughed at.”
This was either ignorance or excessive art on her part; for she was
certainly more than comely, and the beauty of her name, Seet-se-be-a
(the midday sun) is quite enough to make up for a deficiency, if there
were any, in the beauty of her face.

I mentioned that I found these people raising abundance of corn or
maize; and I have happened to visit them in the season of their
festivities, which annually take place when the ears of corn are of the
proper size for eating. The green corn is considered a great luxury by
all those tribes who cultivate it; and is ready for eating as soon as
the ear is of full size, and the kernels are expanded to their full
growth, but are yet soft and pulpy. In this green state of the corn,
it is boiled and dealt out in great profusion to the whole tribe, who
feast and surfeit upon it whilst it lasts; rendering thanks to the
_Great Spirit_ for the return of this joyful season, which they do
by making sacrifices, by dancing, and singing songs or thanksgiving.
This joyful occasion is one valued alike, and conducted in a similar
manner, by most of the tribes who raise the corn, however remote they
may be from each other. It lasts but for a week or ten days; being
limited to the longest term that the corn remains in this tender and
palatable state; during which time all hunting, and all war-excursions,
and all other avocations, are positively dispensed with; and all join
in the most excessive indulgence of gluttony and conviviality that can
possibly be conceived. The fields of corn are generally pretty well
stripped during this excess; and the poor improvident Indian thanks the
Great Spirit for the indulgence he has had, and is satisfied to ripen
merely the few ears that are necessary for his next year’s planting,
without reproaching himself for his wanton lavishness, which has laid
waste his fine fields, and robbed him of the golden harvest, which
might have gladdened his heart, with those of his wife and little
children, through the cold and dreariness of winter.

The most remarkable feature of these joyous occasion is the _green
corn-dance_, which is always given as preparatory to the feast, and
by most of the tribes in the following manner:—

[Illustration: 75]

At the usual season, and the time when from outward appearance of the
stalks and ears of the corn, it is supposed to be nearly ready for
use, several of the old women who are the owners of fields or patches
of corn (for such are the proprietors and cultivators of all crops in
Indian countries, the men never turning their hands to such degrading
occupations) are delegated by the medicine-men to look at the corn
fields every morning at sun-rise, and bring into the council-house,
where the kettle is ready, several ears of corn, the husks of which the
women are not allowed to break open or even to peep through. The women
then are from day to day discharged and the doctors left to decide,
until from repeated examinations they come to the decision that it
will do; when they dispatch _runners_ or _criers_, announcing to every
part of the village or tribe that the Great Spirit has been kind to
them, and they must all meet on the next day to return thanks for his
goodness. That all must empty their stomachs, and prepare for the feast
that is approaching.

On the day appointed by the doctors, the villagers are all assembled,
and in the midst of the group a kettle is hung over a fire and filled
with the green corn, which is well boiled, to be given to the Great
Spirit, as a sacrifice necessary to be made before any one can indulge
the cravings of his appetite. Whilst this first kettleful is boiling,
four medicine-men, with a stalk of the corn in one hand and a rattle
(she-she-quoi) in the other, with their bodies painted with white clay,
dance around the kettle, chanting a song of thanksgiving to the Great
Spirit to whom the offering is to be made (+plate+ 75). At the same
time a number of warriors are dancing around in a more extended circle,
with stalks of the corn in their hands, and joining also in the song of
thanksgiving, whilst the villagers are all assembled and looking on.
During this scene there is an arrangement of wooden bowls laid upon the
ground, in which the feast is to be dealt out, each one having in it a
spoon made of the buffalo or mountain-sheep’s horn.

In this wise the dance continues until the doctors decide that the corn
is sufficiently boiled; it then stops for a few moments, and again
assumes a different form and a different song, whilst the doctors are
placing the ears on a little scaffold of sticks, which they erect
immediately over the fire where it is entirely consumed, as they join
again in the dance around it.

The fire is then removed, and with it the ashes, which together are
buried in the ground, and _new fire_ is originated on the same spot
where the old one was, by friction, which is done by a desperate and
painful exertion by three men seated on the ground, facing each other
and violently drilling the end of a stick into a hard block of wood by
rolling it between the hands, each one catching it in turn from the
others without allowing the motion to stop until smoke, and at last a
spark of fire is seen and caught in a piece of spunk, when there is
great rejoicing in the crowd. With this a fire is kindled, and the
kettleful of corn again boiled for the feast, at which the chiefs,
doctors, and warriors are seated; and after this an unlimited licence
is given to the whole tribe, who surfeit upon it and indulge in all
their favourite amusements and excesses, until the fields of corn are
exhausted, or its ears have become too hard for their comfortable
mastication.

Such are the general features of the green corn festivity and dance
amongst most of the tribes; and amongst some there are many additional
forms and ceremonies gone through, preparatory to the indulgence in the
feast.

Some of the southern tribes concoct a most bitter and nauseating
draught, which they call _asceola_ (the black drink), which they drink
to excess for several days previous to the feast; ejecting everything
from their stomachs and intestines, enabling them after this excessive
and painful purgation, to commence with the green corn upon an empty
and keen stomach.

[Illustration: 76]

  [5] About a year after writing the above, and whilst I was in St.
  Louis, I had the pleasure of presenting the compliments of this old
  veteran to General Clarke; and also of shewing to him the portrait,
  which he instantly recognized amongst hundreds of others; saying,
  that “they had considered the Black Moccasin quite an old man when
  they appointed him chief thirty-two years ago.”




                             LETTER—No. 24.

                  MINATAREE VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Epistles from such a strange place as this, where I have no desk to
write from, or mail to send them by, are hastily scribbled off in my
note-book, as I can steal a little time from the gaze of the wild group
that is continually about me; and instead of _sending_ them, _keeping_
them to bring with me when I make my retreat from the country.

The only place where I can satisfactorily make these entries is in
the shade of some sequestered tree, to which I occasionally resort,
or more often from my bed (from which I am now writing), enclosed by
a sort of curtains made of the skins of elks or buffaloes, completely
encompassing me, where I am reclining on a sacking-bottom, made of the
buffalo’s hide; making my entries and notes of the incidents of the
past day, amidst the roar and unintelligible din of savage conviviality
that is going on under the same roof, and under my own eye, whenever I
feel disposed to apply it to a small aperture which brings at once the
whole interior and all its inmates within my view.

There are at this time some distinguished guests, besides _myself_, in
the lodge of the Black Moccasin; two chiefs or leaders of a party of
Crows, who arrived here a few days since, on a visit to their ancient
friends and relatives. The consequence has been, that feasting and
carousing have been the “order of the day” here for some time; and I
have luckily been a welcome participator in their entertainments. A
distinguished chief of the Minatarees, with several others in company,
has been for some months past on a visit to the Crows and returned,
attended by some remarkably fine-looking fellows, all mounted on fine
horses. I have said something of these fine specimens of the human race
heretofore; and as I have been fastening more of them to the canvass
within the few days past, I must use this occasion to add what follows:—

I think I have said that no part of the human race could present a
more picturesque and thrilling appearance on horseback than a party
of Crows rigged out in all their plumes and trappings—galloping about
and yelping, in what they call a war-parade, _i. e._ in a sort of
tournament or sham-fight, passing rapidly through the evolutions of
battle, and vaunting forth the wonderful character of their military
exploits. This is an amusement, of which they are excessively fond; and
great preparations are invariably made for these occasional shows.

No tribe of Indians on the Continent are better able to produce a
pleasing and thrilling effect in these scenes, nor any more vain,
and consequently better prepared to draw pleasure and satisfaction
from them, than the Crows. They may be justly said to be the most
beautifully clad of all the Indians in these regions, and bringing
from the base of the Rocky Mountains a fine and spirited breed of the
wild horses, have been able to create a great sensation amongst the
Minatarees, who have been paying them all attention and all honours for
some days past.

From amongst these showy fellows who have been entertaining us and
pleasing themselves with their extraordinary feats of horsemanship,
I have selected one of the most conspicuous, and transferred him and
his horse, with arms and trappings, as faithfully as I could to the
canvass, for the information of the world, who will learn vastly
more from lines and colours than they could from oral or written
delineations.

I have painted him as he sat for me, balanced on his leaping wild horse
(+plate+ 76) with his shield and quiver slung on his back, and his long
lance decorated with the eagle’s quills, trailed in his right hand.
His shirt and his leggings, and moccasins, were of the mountain-goat
skins, beautifully dressed; and their seams everywhere fringed with a
profusion of scalp-locks taken from the heads of his enemies slain in
battle. His long hair, which reached almost to the ground whilst he was
standing on his feet, was now lifted in the air, and floating in black
waves over the hips of his leaping charger. On his head, and over his
shining black locks, he wore a magnificent crest or head-dress, made of
the quills of the war-eagle and ermine skins; and on his horse’s head
also was another of equal beauty and precisely the same in pattern and
material. Added to these ornaments there were yet many others which
contributed to his picturesque appearance, and amongst them a beautiful
netting of various colours, that completely covered and almost obscured
the horse’s head and neck, and extended over its back and its hips,
terminating in a most extravagant and magnificent crupper, embossed and
fringed with rows of beautiful shells and porcupine quills of various
colours.

With all these picturesque ornaments and trappings upon and about
him, with a noble figure, and the bold stamp of a wild _gentleman_
on his face, added to the rage and spirit of his wild horse, in time
with whose leaps he issued his startling (though smothered) yelps, as
he gracefully leaned to and fro, leaving his plumes and his plumage,
his long locks and his fringes, to float in the wind, he galloped
about; and felt exceeding pleasure in displaying the extraordinary
skill which a lifetime of practice and experiment had furnished him
in the beautiful art of riding and managing his horse, as well as in
displaying to advantage his weapons and ornaments of dress, by giving
them the grace of motion, as they were brandished in the air and
floating in the wind.

[Illustration: 77]

[Illustration: 78]

[Illustration: 79]

I have also secured the portraits of Ee-he-a-duck-chee-a (he who ties
his hair before, +plate+ 78), and Pa-ris-ka-roo-pa (the two Crows,
+plate+ 77); fine and fair specimens of this tribe, in both of which
are exhibited the extraordinary instances of the natural hair reaching
to the ground, peculiarities belonging almost exclusively to this
tribe, and of which I have in a former Letter given some account. In
presenting such instances as these, I offer them, (and the reader will
take them of course) as extraordinary and rare occurrences amongst
the tribe, who generally fall short of these in this peculiarity, and
also in elegance of dress and ornament; although many others from
their numbers might be selected of equal extravagance. The Crows are
generally handsome, and comfortably clad; every man in the nation oils
his hair with a profusion of bear’s grease, and promotes its growth to
the utmost of his ability; and the greater part of them cultivate it
down on to the calf of the leg, whilst a few are able to make it sweep
the ground.

In a former Letter I gave some account of the form of the head peculiar
to this tribe which may well be recorded as a national characteristic,
and worthy of further attention, which I shall give it on a future
occasion. This striking peculiarity is quite conspicuous in the two
portraits of which I have just spoken, exhibiting fairly, as they
are both in profile, the _semi-lunar_ outline of the face of which I
have before spoken, and which strongly characterizes them as distinct
from any relationship or resemblance to, the Blackfeet, Shiennes,
Knisteneaux, Mandans, or other tribes now existing in these regions.
The peculiar character of which I am speaking, like all other national
characteristics, is of course met by many exceptions in the tribe,
though the greater part of the men are thus strongly marked with
a bold and prominent anti-angular nose, with a clear and rounded
arch, and a low and receding forehead; the frontal bone oftentimes
appearing to have been compressed by some effort of art, in a certain
degree approaching to the horrid distortion thus produced amongst the
Flatheads beyond the Rocky Mountains. I learned however from repeated
inquiries, that no such custom is practiced amongst them, but their
heads, such as they are, are the results of a natural growth, and
therefore may well be offered as the basis of a national or tribal
_character_.

I recollect to have seen in several publications on the antiquities of
Mexico, many rude drawings made by the ancient Mexicans, of which the
singular profiles of these people forcibly remind me, almost bringing
me to the conclusion that these people may be the descendants of the
race who have bequeathed those curious and inexplicable remains to the
world, and whose scattered remnants, from dire and unknown necessities
of those dark and veiled ages that have gone by, have been jostled and
thrown along through the hideous and almost impenetrable labyrinths
of the Rocky Mountains to the place of their destination where they
now live. I am stopped, however, from advancing such as a _theory_,
and much prefer to leave it to other hands, who may more easily get
over difficulties which I should be afraid to encounter in the very
outset, from the very important questions raised in my mind, as to the
correctness of those rude and ignorant outlines, in truly establishing
the looks and character of a people. Amongst a people so ignorant and
so little advanced in the arts as the ancient Mexicans were, from whose
tracings those very numerous drawings are copied, I think it would be
assuming a great deal too much for satisfactory argument, to claim
that such records were to set up to the world the looks and character
of a people who have sunk into oblivion, when the heads of horses and
other animals, drawn by the same hands, are so rude and so much out of
drawing as scarcely to be distinguished, one from the other. I feel
as if such rude outlines should be received with great caution and
distrust, in establishing the character of a people; and for a fair
illustration of the objection I am raising, I would refer the reader to
a number of _fac-simile_ drawings which I have copied from some of the
paintings of the Mandans (on the three plates following +plate+ 65),
where most of the figures have the forehead and nose answering exactly
to these Mexican outlines, and strikingly resembling the _living
Crows_, also, when they have certainly borrowed nothing from either,
nor have they any living outlines like them in their own tribe to have
copied from.

Since writing the above I have passed through many vicissitudes, and
witnessed many curious scenes worthy of relating, some of which I will
scribble now, and leave the rest for a more leisure occasion. I have
witnessed many of the valued games and amusements of this tribe, and
made sketches of them; and also have painted a number of portraits of
distinguished warriors and braves which will be found in my collection.

I have just been exceedingly amused with a formal and grave meeting
which was called around me, formed by a number of young men, and even
chiefs and doctors of the tribe, who, having heard that I was _great
medicine_, and a great chief, took it upon themselves to suppose that
I might (or perhaps must) be, a man of influence amongst the “pale
faces,” and capable of rendering them some relief in a case of very
great grievance, under which they represented that they were suffering.
Several most profound speeches were made to me, setting forth these
grievances, somewhat in the following manner:—They represented, that
about five or six years ago, an unknown, small animal—not far differing
in size from a ground squirrel, but with a long, round tail, shewed
himself slily about one of the chief’s wigwams, peeping out from under
the pots and kettles, and other such things; which they looked upon
as great _medicine_—and no one dared to kill it; but hundreds came to
watch and look at it. On one of these occasions, one of the spectators
saw this strange animal catching and devouring a small “deer mouse,”
of which little and very destructive animals their lodges contained
many. It was then at once determined that this had been an act of the
Great Spirit, as a means of putting a stop to the spoliations committed
by these little sappers, who were cutting their clothing, and other
manufactures to pieces in a lamentable manner. Councils had been called
and solemn decrees issued for the countenance and protection of this
welcome visitor and its progeny, which were soon ascertained to be
rapidly increasing, and calculated soon to rid them of these thousands
of little depredators. It was soon, however, learned from one of the
Fur Traders, that this distinguished object of their superstition
(which my man Ba’tiste familiarly calls “_Monsr. Ratapon_”) had, a
short time before, landed himself from one of their keel boats, which
had ascended the Missouri river for the distance of 1800 miles; and had
taken up its residence, without introduction or invitation, in one of
their earth-covered wigwams.

This information, for a while, curtailed the extraordinary respect they
had for some time been paying to it; but its continual war upon these
little mice, which it was using for its food, in the absence of all
other nutriment, continued to command their respect, in spite of the
manner in which it had been introduced; being unwilling to believe that
it had come from that source, even, without the agency in some way of
the Great Spirit.

Having been thus introduced and nurtured, and their numbers having been
so wonderfully increased in the few last years, that every wigwam was
infested with them,—that their _caches_, where they bury their corn
and other provisions, were robbed and sacked; and the very pavements
under their wigwams were so vaulted and sapped, that they were actually
falling to the ground; they were now looked upon as a most disastrous
nuisance, and a public calamity, to which it was the object of this
meeting to call my attention, evidently in hopes that I might be able
to designate some successful mode of relieving them from this real
misfortune. I got rid of them at last, by assuring them of my deep
regret for their situation, which was, to be sure, a very unpleasant
one; and told them, that there was really a great deal of _medicine_
in the thing, and that I should therefore be quite unwilling to have
anything to do with it. Ba’tiste and Bogard, who are yet my daily and
almost hourly companions, took to themselves a great deal of fun and
amusement at the end of this interview, by suggesting many remedies
for the evil, and enjoying many hearty laughs; after which, Ba’tiste,
Bogard and I, took our hats; and I took my sketch-book in hand, and
we started on a visit to the upper town of the Minatarees, which is
half a mile or more distant, and on the other bank of the Knife River,
which we crossed in the following manner:—The old chief, having learned
that we were to cross the river, gave direction to one of the women
of his numerous household, who took upon her head a skin-canoe (more
familiarly called in this country, a bull-boat), made in the form of a
large tub, of a buffalo’s skin, stretched on a frame of willow boughs,
which she carried to the water’s edge; and placing it in the water,
made signs for us three to get into it. When we were in, and seated
flat on its bottom, with scarce room in any way to adjust our legs
and our feet (as we sat necessarily facing each other), she stepped
before the boat, and pulling it along, waded towards the deeper water,
with her back towards us, carefully with the other hand attending to
her dress, which seemed to be but a light slip, and floating upon the
surface until the water was above her waist, when it was instantly
turned off, over her head, and thrown ashore; and she boldly plunged
forward, swimming and drawing the boat with one hand, which she did
with apparent ease. In this manner we were conveyed to the middle of
the stream, where we were soon surrounded by a dozen or more beautiful
girls, from twelve to fifteen and eighteen years of age, who were at
that time bathing on the opposite shore.

They all swam in a bold and graceful manner, and as confidently as so
many otters or beavers; and gathering around us, with their long black
hair floating about on the water, whilst their faces were glowing with
jokes and fun, which they were cracking about us, and which we could
not understand.

In the midst of this delightful little aquatic group, we three sat in
our little skin-bound tub (like the “three wise men of Gotham, who
went to sea in a bowl,” &c.), floating along down the current, losing
sight, and all thoughts, of the shore, which was equi-distant from us
on either side; whilst we were amusing ourselves with the playfulness
of these dear little creatures who were floating about under the
clear blue water, catching their hands on to the sides of our boat;
occasionally raising one-half of their bodies out of the water, and
sinking again, like so many mermaids.

In the midst of this bewildering and tantalizing entertainment, in
which poor Ba’tiste and Bogard, as well as myself, were all taking
infinite pleasure, and which we supposed was all intended for our
especial amusement; we found ourselves suddenly in the delightful
dilemma of floating down the current in the middle of the river; and
of being turned round and round to the excessive amusement of the
villagers, who were laughing at us from the shore, as well as these
little tyros, whose delicate hands were besetting our tub on all
sides; and for an escape from whom, or for fending off, we had neither
an oar, or anything else, that we could wield in self-defence, or
for self-preservation. In this awkward predicament, our feelings of
excessive admiration were immediately changed, to those of exceeding
vexation, as we now learned that they had peremptorily discharged
from her occupation our fair conductress, who had undertaken to ferry
us safely across the river; and had also very ingeniously laid their
plans, of which we had been ignorant until the present moment, to
extort from us in this way, some little evidences of our liberality,
which, in fact, it was impossible to refuse them, after so liberal and
bewitching an exhibition on their part, as well as from the imperative
obligation which the awkwardness of our situation had laid us under. I
had some awls in my pockets, which I presented to them, and also a few
strings of beautiful beads, which I placed over their delicate necks
as they raised them out of the water by the side of our boat; after
which they all joined in conducting our craft to the shore, by swimming
by the sides of, and behind it, pushing it along in the direction where
they designed to land it, until the water became so shallow, that their
feet were upon the bottom, when they waded along with great coyness,
dragging us towards the shore, as long as their bodies, in a crouching
position, could possibly be half concealed under the water, when they
gave our boat the last push for the shore, and raising a loud and
exulting laugh, plunged back again into the river; leaving us the only
alternative of sitting still where we were, or of stepping out into
the water at half leg deep, and of wading to the shore, which we at
once did, and soon escaped from the view of our little tormentors, and
the numerous lookers-on, on our way to the upper village, which I have
before mentioned.

Here I was very politely treated by the _Yellow Moccasin_, quite an old
man, and who seemed to be chief of this band or family, constituting
their little community of thirty or forty lodges, averaging, perhaps,
twenty persons to each. I was feasted in this man’s lodge—and
afterwards invited to accompany him and several others to a beautiful
prairie, a mile or so above the village, where the young men and young
women of this town, and many from the village below, had assembled for
their amusements; the chief of which seemed to be that of racing their
horses. In the midst of these scenes, after I had been for some time
a looker-on, and had felt some considerable degree of sympathy for a
fine-looking young fellow, whose horse had been twice beaten on the
course, and whose losses had been considerable; for which, his sister,
a very modest and pretty girl, was most piteously howling and crying.
I selected and brought forward an ordinary-looking pony, that was
evidently too fat and too sleek to run against his fine-limbed little
horse that had disappointed his high hopes; and I began to comment
extravagantly upon its muscle, &c., when I discovered him evidently
cheering up with the hope of getting me and my pony on to the turf with
him; for which he soon made me a proposition; and I, having lauded the
limbs of my little nag too much to “back out,” agreed to run a short
race with him of half a mile, for three yards of scarlet cloth, a
knife, and half a dozen strings of beads, which I was willing to stake
against a handsome pair of leggings, which he was wearing at the time.
The greatest imaginable excitement was now raised amongst the crowd by
this arrangement; to see a white man preparing to run with an Indian
jockey, and that with a scrub of a pony, in whose powers of running no
Indian had the least confidence. Yet, there was no one in the crowd,
who dared to take up the several other little bets I was willing to
tender (merely for their amusement, and for their final exultation);
owing, undoubtedly, to the bold and confident manner in which I had
ventured on the merits of this little horse, which the tribe had all
overlooked; and needs must have some _medicine_ about it.

So far was this panic carried, that even my champion was ready to
withdraw; but his friends encouraged him at length, and we galloped
our horses off to the other end of the course, where we were to start;
and where we were accompanied by a number of horsemen, who were to
witness the “set off.” Some considerable delay here took place, from a
_condition_, which was then named to me, and which I had not observed
before, that in all the races of this day, every rider was to run
entirely denuded, and ride a naked horse! Here I was completely balked,
and having no one by me to interpret a word, I was quite at a loss to
decide what was best to do. I found however, that remonstrance was of
little avail; and as I had volunteered in this thing to gratify and
flatter them, I thought it best not positively to displease them in
this; so I laid off my clothes, and straddled the naked back of my
round and glossy little pony, by the side of my competitor, who was
also mounted and stripped to the skin, and panting with a restless
anxiety for the start.

Reader! did you ever imagine that in the _middle of a man’s life_
there could be a thought or a feeling so _new_ to him, as to throw him
instantly back to infancy; with a new world and a new genius before
him—started afresh, to navigate and breathe the elements of naked and
untasted liberty, which clothe him in their cool and silken robes that
float about him; and wafting their life-inspiring folds to his inmost
lungs? If you never have been inspired with such a feeling, and have
been in the habit of believing that you have thought of, and imagined a
little of every thing, try for a moment, to disrobe your mind and your
body, and help me through feelings to which I cannot give utterance.
Imagine yourselves as I was, with my trembling little horse underneath
me, and the cool atmosphere that was floating about, and ready, more
closely and familiarly to embrace me, as it did, at the next moment,
when we “were off,” and struggling for the goal and the prize.

Though my little Pegasus seemed to dart through the clouds, and I to
be wafted on the wings of Mercury, yet my red adversary was leaving
me too far behind for further competition; and I wheeled to the left,
making a circuit on the prairie, and came in at the starting point,
much to the satisfaction and exultation of the jockeys; but greatly
to the murmuring disappointment of the women and children, who had
assembled in a dense throng to witness the “coming out” of the “white
medicine-man.” I clothed myself instantly, and came back, acknowledging
my defeat, and the superior skill of my competitor, as well as the
wonderful muscle of his little charger, which pleased him much; and
his sisters’ lamentations were soon turned to joy, by the receipt of a
beautiful scarlet robe, and a profusion of vari-coloured beads, which
were speedily paraded on her copper-coloured neck.

After I had seen enough of these amusements, I succeeded with some
difficulty, in pulling Ba’tiste and Bogard from amongst the groups of
women and girls, where they seemed to be successfully ingratiating
themselves; and we trudged back to the little village of earth-covered
lodges, which were hemmed in, and almost obscured from the eye, by
the fields of corn and luxuriant growth of wild sun-flowers, and other
vegetable productions of the soil, whose spontaneous growth had reared
their heads in such profusion, as to appear all but like a dense and
formidable forest.

We loitered about this little village awhile, looking into most of its
lodges, and tracing its winding avenues, after which we recrossed the
river and wended our way back again to head-quarters, from whence we
started in the morning, and where I am now writing. This day’s ramble
shewed to us all the inhabitants of this little tribe, except a portion
of their warriors who are out on a war excursion against the Riccarees;
and I have been exceedingly pleased with their general behaviour and
looks, as well as with their numerous games and amusements, in many of
which I have given them great pleasure by taking a part.

The Minatarees, as I have before said, are a bold, daring, and warlike
tribe; quite different in these respects from their neighbours the
Mandans, carrying war continually in their enemies’ country, thereby
exposing their lives and diminishing the number of their warriors
to that degree that I find two or three women to a man, through the
tribe. They are bold and fearless in the chase also, and in their eager
pursuits of the bison, or buffaloes, their feats are such as to excite
the astonishment and admiration of all who behold them. Of these scenes
I have witnessed many since I came into this country, and amongst
them all, nothing have I seen to compare with one to which I was an
eye-witness a few mornings since, and well worthy of being described.

The Minatarees, as well as the Mandans, had suffered for some months
past for want of meat, and had indulged in the most alarming fears,
that the herds of buffaloes were emigrating so far off from them,
that there was great danger of their actual starvation, when it was
suddenly announced through the village one morning at an early hour,
that a herd of buffaloes was in sight, when an hundred or more young
men mounted their horses with weapons in hand and steered their course
to the prairies. The chief informed me that one of his horses was in
readiness for me at the door of his wigwam, and that I had better go
and see the curious affair. I accepted his polite offer, and mounting
the steed, galloped off with the hunters to the prairies, where we
soon descried at a distance, a fine herd of buffaloes grazing, when
a halt and a council were ordered, and the mode of attack was agreed
upon. I had armed myself with my pencil and my sketch-book only, and
consequently took my position generally in the rear, where I could see
and appreciate every manœuvre.

The plan of attack, which in this country is familiarly called a
“_surround_,” was explicitly agreed upon, and the hunters who were all
mounted on their “buffalo horses” and armed with bows and arrows or
long lances, divided into two columns, taking opposite directions, and
drew themselves gradually around the herd at a mile or more distance
from them; thus forming a circle of horsemen at equal distances
apart, who gradually closed in upon them with a moderate pace, at a
signal given. The unsuspecting herd at length “got the wind” of the
approaching enemy and fled in a mass in the greatest confusion. To
the point where they were aiming to cross the line, the horsemen were
seen at full speed, gathering and forming in a column, brandishing
their weapons and yelling in the most frightful manner, by which means
they turned the black and rushing mass which moved off in an opposite
direction where they were again met and foiled in a similar manner,
and wheeled back in utter confusion; by which time the horsemen had
closed in from all directions, forming a continuous line around them,
whilst the poor affrighted animals were eddying about in a crowded and
confused mass, hooking and climbing upon each ether; when the work of
death commenced. I had rode up in the rear and occupied an elevated
position at a few rods distance, from which I could (like the general
of a battle field) survey from my horse’s back, the nature and the
progress of the grand mêlée; but (unlike him) without the power of
issuing a command or in any way directing its issue.

In this grand turmoil (+plate+ 79), a cloud of dust was soon raised,
which in parts obscured the throng where the hunters were galloping
their horses around and driving the whizzing arrows or their long
lances to the hearts of these noble animals; which in many instances,
becoming infuriated with deadly wounds in their sides, erected their
shaggy manes over their bloodshot eyes and furiously plunged forwards
at the sides of their assailants’ horses, sometimes goring them to
death at a lunge, and putting their dismounted riders to flight for
their lives; sometimes their dense crowd was opened, and the blinded
horsemen, too intent on their prey amidst the cloud of dust, were
hemmed and wedged in amidst the crowding beasts, over whose backs
they were obliged to leap for security, leaving their horses to the
fate that might await them in the results of this wild and desperate
war. Many were the bulls that turned upon their assailants and met
them with desperate resistance; and many were the warriors who were
dismounted, and saved themselves by the superior muscles of their legs;
some who were closely pursued by the bulls, wheeled suddenly around and
snatching the part of a buffalo robe from around their waists, threw it
over the horns and the eyes of the infuriated beast, and darting by its
side drove the arrow or the lance to its heart. Others suddenly dashed
off upon the prairies by the side of the affrighted animals which had
escaped from the throng, and closely escorting them for a few rods,
brought down their hearts blood in streams, and their huge carcasses
upon the green and enamelled turf.

In this way this grand hunt soon resolved itself into a desperate
battle; and in the space of fifteen minutes, resulted in the total
destruction of the whole herd, which in all their strength and fury
were doomed, like every beast and living thing else, to fall before the
destroying hands of mighty man.

[Illustration: 80]

I had sat in trembling silence upon my horse, and witnessed this
extraordinary scene, which allowed not one of these animals to escape
out of my sight. Many plunged off upon the prairie for a distance, but
were overtaken and killed; and although I could not distinctly estimate
the number that were slain, yet I am sure that some hundreds of these
noble animals fell in this grand mêlée.

The scene after the battle was over was novel and curious in the
extreme; the hunters were moving about amongst the dead and dying
animals, leading their horses by their halters, and claiming their
victims by their private marks upon their arrows, which they were
drawing from the wounds in the animals’ sides.

Amongst the poor affrighted creatures that had occasionally dashed
through the ranks of their enemy, and sought safety in flight upon the
prairie (and in some instances, had undoubtedly gained it), I saw them
stand awhile, looking back, when they turned, and, as if bent on their
own destruction, retraced their steps, and mingled themselves and their
deaths with those of the dying throng. Others had fled to a distance on
the prairies and for want of company, of friends or of foes, had stood
and gazed on till the battle-scene was over; seemingly taking pains to
stay, and hold their lives in readiness for their destroyers, until
the general destruction was over, when they fell easy victims to their
weapons—making the slaughter complete.

After this scene, and after arrows had been claimed and recovered, a
general council was held, when all hands were seated on the ground, and
a few pipes smoked; after which, all mounted their horses and rode back
to the village.

A deputation of several of the warriors was sent to the chief, who
explained to him what had been their success; and the same intelligence
was soon communicated by little squads to every family in the village;
and preparations were at once made for securing the meat. For this
purpose, some hundreds of women and children, to whose lots fall all
the drudgeries of Indian life, started out upon the trail, which
led them to the battle-field, where they spent the day in skinning
the animals, and cutting up the meat, which was mostly brought into
the villages on their backs, as they tugged and sweated under their
enormous and cruel loads.

I rode out to see this curious scene; and I regret exceedingly that I
kept no memorandum of it in my sketch-book. Amidst the throng of women
and children, that had been assembled, and all of whom seemed busily at
work, were many superannuated and disabled nags, which they had brought
out to assist in carrying in the meat; and at least, one thousand
semi-loup dogs, and whelps, whose keen appetites and sagacity had
brought them out, to claim their shares of this abundant and sumptuous
supply.

I staid and inspected this curious group for an hour or more,
during which time, I was almost continually amused by the clamorous
contentions that arose, and generally ended, in desperate combats;
both amongst the dogs and women, who seemed alike tenacious of their
local and recently acquired rights; and disposed to settle their claims
by “tooth and nail”—by manual and brute force.

When I had seen enough of this I rode to the top of a beautiful prairie
bluff, a mile or two from the scene, where I was exceedingly amused by
overlooking the route that laid between this and the village, which
was over the undulating green fields for several miles, that laid
beneath me; over which there seemed a continual string of women, dogs
and horses, for the rest of the day, passing and repassing as they
were busily bearing home their heavy burthens to their village, and in
their miniature appearance, which the distance gave them, not unlike
to a busy community of ants as they are sometimes seen, sacking and
transporting the treasures of a cupboard, or the sweets of a sugar
bowl.




                             LETTER—No. 25.

                LITTLE MANDAN VILLAGE, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


In speaking of the Mandans, in a former Letter, I mentioned that they
were living in two villages, which are about two miles apart. Of their
principal village I have given a minute account, which precludes the
necessity of my saying much of their smaller town, to which I descended
a few days since, from the Minatarees; and where I find their modes
and customs, precisely the same as I have heretofore described. This
village contains sixty or eighty lodges, built in the same manner as
those which I have already mentioned, and I have just learned that
they have been keeping the annual ceremony here, precisely in the same
manner as that which I witnessed in the lower or larger town, and have
explained.

I have been treated with the same hospitality here that was extended
to me in the other village; and have painted the portraits of several
distinguished persons, which has astonished and pleased them very much.
The operation of my brush always gains me many enthusiastic friends
wherever I go amongst these wild folks; and in this village I have been
unusually honoured and even _afflicted_, by the friendly importunities
of one of these reverencing parasites, who (amongst various other
offices of hospitality and kindness which he has been bent upon
extending to me), has insisted on, and for several nights been indulged
in, the honour as he would term it, of offering his body for my
pillow, which _I_ have not had the heart to reject, and of course _he_
has not lacked the vanity to boast of, as an act of signal kindness
and hospitality on his part, towards a _great_ and _a distinguished
stranger_!

I have been for several days suffering somewhat with an influenza,
which has induced me to leave my bed, on the side of the lodge, and
sleep on the floor, wrapped in a buffalo robe, with my feet to the
fire in the centre of the room, to which place the genuine politeness
of my constant and watchful friend has as regularly drawn him, where
his irresistible importunities have brought me, night after night, to
the only alternative of using his bedaubed and bear-greased body for a
pillow.

Being unwilling to deny the poor fellow the satisfaction he seemed to
be drawing from this singular freak, I took some pains to inquire into
his character; and learned that he was a Riccaree brave, by the name of
Pah-too-ca-ra (he who strikes), who is here with several others of his
tribe, on a friendly visit (though in a hostile village), and living
as they are, unprotected, except by the mercy of their enemies. I
think it probable, therefore, that he is ingeniously endeavouring thus
to ingratiate himself in my affections, and consequently to insure my
guardianship and influence for his protection. Be this as it may, he is
rendering me many kind services, and I have in return traced him on my
canvass for immortality (+plate+ 83).

By the side of him (+plate+ 84), I have painted a beautiful little girl
of the same tribe, whose name is Pshan-shaw (the sweet-scented grass),
giving a very pretty specimen of the dress and fashion of the women
in this tribe. The inner garment, which is like a slip or a frock, is
entire in one piece, and beautifully ornamented with embroidery and
beads, with a row of elks’ teeth passing across the breast, and a robe
of the young buffalo’s skin, tastefully and elaborately embroidered,
gracefully thrown over her shoulders, and hanging down to the ground
behind her.

+Plate+ 82 gives a portrait of one of the chiefs of this tribe by the
name of Stan-au-pat (the bloody hand), and (+plate+ 81) of Kah-beck-a
(the twin), a good-looking matron, who was painted a few weeks since in
the principal Mandan village.

The dresses in both of these portraits are very beautiful, and I have
procured them, as well as the one before spoken of, for my collection.

+Plate+ 80, gives a view of the Riccaree village, which is beautifully
situated on the west bank of the river, 200 miles below the Mandans;
and built very much in the same manner; being constituted of 150
earth-covered lodges, which are in part surrounded by an imperfect and
open barrier of piquets set firmly in the ground, and of ten or twelve
feet in height.

This village is built upon an open prairie, and the gracefully
undulating hills that rise in distance behind it are everywhere covered
with a verdant green turf, without a tree or a bush anywhere to be
seen. This view was taken from the deck of the steamer when I was on my
way up the river; and probably it was well that I took it then, for so
hostile and deadly are the feelings of these people towards the _pale
faces_, at this time, that it may be deemed most prudent for me to pass
them on my way down the river, without stopping to make them a visit.
They certainly are harbouring the most resentful feelings at this time
towards the Traders, and others passing on the river; and no doubt,
that there is great danger of the lives of any white men, who unluckily
fall into their hands. They have recently sworn death and destruction
to every white man, who comes in their way; and there is no doubt, that
they are ready to execute their threats.

When Lewis and Clarke first visited these people thirty years since,
it will be found by a reference to their history, that the Riccarees
received and treated them with great kindness and hospitality; but
owing to the system of trade, and the manner in which it has been
conducted in this country, they have been inflicted with real or
imaginary abuses, of which they are themselves, and the Fur Traders,
the best judges; and for which they are now harbouring the most
inveterate feelings towards the whole civilized race.

[Illustration: 81]

[Illustration: 82]

[Illustration: 83]

[Illustration: 84]

[Illustration: 85]

The Riccarees are unquestionably a part of the tribe of Pawnees, living
on the Platte River, some hundreds of miles below this, inasmuch
as their language is nearly or quite the same; and their personal
appearance and customs as similar as could be reasonably expected
amongst a people so long since separated from their parent tribe, and
continually subjected to innovations from the neighbouring tribes
around them; amongst whom, in their erratic wanderings in search of a
location, they have been jostled about in the character, alternately,
of friends and of foes.

I shall resume my voyage down the river in a few days in my canoe; and
I may, perhaps, stop and pay these people a visit, and consequently, be
able to say more of them; or, I may be _hauled in_, to the shore, and
my boat plundered, and my “_scalp danced_,” as they have dealt quite
recently with the _last trader_, who has dared for several years past,
to continue his residence with them, after they had laid fatal hands on
each one of his comrades before him, and divided and shared their goods.

Of the Mandans, who are about me in this little village, I need say
nothing, except that they are in every respect, the same as those
I have described in the lower village—and in fact, I believe this
little town is rather a _summer residence_ for a few of the noted
families, than anything else; as I am told that none of their wigwams
are tenanted through the winter. I shall leave them in the morning,
and take up my residence a few days longer with my hospitable friends
Mr. Kipp, Mah-to-toh-pa, &c. in the large village; and then with my
canvass and easel, and paint-pots in my canoe; with Ba’tiste and Bogard
to paddle, and my own oar to steer, wend my way again on the mighty
Missouri towards my native land, bidding everlasting farewell to the
kind and hospitable Mandans.

In taking this final leave of them, which will be done with some
decided feelings of regret, and in receding from their country, I shall
look back and reflect upon them and their curious and peculiar modes
with no small degree of pleasure, as well as surprise; inasmuch as
their hospitality and friendly treatment have fully corroborated my
fixed belief that the North American Indian in his primitive state is
a high-minded, hospitable and honourable being—and their singular and
peculiar customs have raised an irresistible belief in my mind that
they have had a different origin, or are of a different compound of
character from any other tribe that I have yet seen, or that can be
probably seen in North America.

In coming to such a conclusion as this, the mind is at once filled with
a flood of enquiries as to the source from which they have sprung,
and eagerly seeking for the evidence which is to lead it to the most
probable and correct conclusion. Amongst these evidences of which there
are many, and forcible ones to be met with amongst these people, and
many of which I have named in my former epistles, the most striking
ones are those which go, I think, decidedly to suggest the existence
of looks and of customs amongst them, bearing incontestible proofs of
an amalgam of civilized and savage; and that in the absence of all
proof of any recent proximity of a civilized stock that could in any
way have been engrafted upon them.

These facts then, with the host of their peculiarities which stare
a traveller in the face, lead the mind back in search of some more
remote and rational cause for such striking singularities; and in this
dilemma, I have been almost disposed (not to advance it as a _theory_,
but) to enquire whether here may not be found, yet existing, the
remains of the _Welsh colony_—the followers of Madoc; who history tells
us, if I recollect right, started with ten ships, to colonize a country
which he had discovered in the Western Ocean; whose expedition I think
has been pretty clearly traced to the mouth of the Mississippi, or the
coast of Florida, and whose fate further than this seems sealed in
unsearchable mystery.

I am travelling in this country as I have before said, not to advance
or to prove _theories_, but to see all that I am able to see, and to
tell it in the simplest and most intelligible manner I can to the
world, for their own conclusions, or for theories I may feel disposed
to advance, and be better able to defend after I get out of this
singular country; where all the powers of ones faculties are required,
and much better employed I consider, in helping him along and in
gathering materials, than in stopping to draw too nice and delicate
conclusions by the way.

If my indefinite recollections of the fate of that colony, however,
as recorded in history be correct, I see no harm in suggesting the
inquiry, whether they did not sail up the Mississippi river in their
ten ships, or such number of them as might have arrived safe in its
mouth; and having advanced up the Ohio from its junction, (as they
naturally would, it being the widest and most gentle current) to a
rich and fertile country, planted themselves as agriculturalists on
its rich banks, where they lived and flourished, and increased in
numbers, until they were attacked, and at last besieged by the numerous
hordes of savages who were jealous of their growing condition; and as
a protection against their assaults, built those numerous _civilized_
fortifications, the ruins of which are now to be seen on the Ohio
and the Muskingum, in which they were at last all destroyed, except
some few families who had intermarried with the Indians, and whose
offspring, being half-breeds, were in such a manner allied to them
that their lives were spared; and forming themselves into a small
and separate community, took up their residence on the banks of the
Missouri; on which, for the want of a permanent location, being on
the lands of their more powerful enemies, were obliged repeatedly to
remove; and continuing their course up the river, have in time migrated
to the place where they are now living, and consequently found with the
numerous and almost unaccountable peculiarities of which I have before
spoken, so inconsonant with the general character of the North American
Indians; with complexions of every shade; with hair of all the colours
in civilized society, and many with hazel, with grey, and with blue
eyes.

The above is a suggestion of a _moment_; and I wish the reader to bear
it in mind, that if I ever advance such as a _theory_, it will be
after I have collected other proofs, which I shall take great pains
to do; after I have taken a vocabulary of their language, and also
in my transit down the river in my canoe, I may be able from my own
examinations of the ground, to ascertain whether the shores of the
Missouri bear evidences of their former locations; or whether amongst
the tribes who inhabit the country below, there remain any satisfactory
traditions of their residences in, and transit through their countries.

I close here my book (and probably for some time, my remarks), on the
friendly and hospitable Mandans.

  +Note+—Several years having elapsed since the above account of the
  Mandans was written, I open the book to convey to the reader the
  melancholy intelligence of the _destruction_ of this interesting
  tribe, which happened a short time after I left their country; and
  the manner and causes of their misfortune I have explained in the
  Appendix to the Second Volume of this Work; as well as some further
  considerations of the subject just above-named, relative to their
  early history, and the probable fate of the followers of _Madoc_,
  to which I respectfully refer the reader before he goes further in
  the body of the Work. See Appendix A.




                             LETTER—No. 26.

                MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Since writing the above Letter I have descended the Missouri, a
distance of six or seven hundred miles, in my little bark, with
Ba’tiste and Bogard, my old “_compagnons du voyage_,” and have much
to say of what we three did and what we saw on our way, which will be
given anon.

I am now in the heart of the country belonging to the numerous tribe
of Sioux or Dohcotas, and have Indian faces and Indian customs in
abundance around me. This tribe is one of the most numerous in North
America, and also one of the most vigorous and warlike tribes to be
found, numbering some forty or fifty thousand, and able undoubtedly
to muster, if the tribe could be moved simultaneously, at least eight
or ten thousand warriors, well mounted and well armed. This tribe
take vast numbers of the wild horses on the plains towards the Rocky
Mountains, and many of them have been supplied with guns; but the
greater part of them hunt with their bows and arrows and long lances,
killing their game from their horses’ backs while at full speed.

The name Sioux (pronounced _see-oo_) by which they are familiarly
called, is one that has been given to them by the French traders, the
meaning of which I never have learned; their own name being, in their
language, Dah-co-ta. The personal appearance of these people is very
fine and prepossessing, their persons tall and straight, and their
movements elastic and graceful. Their stature is considerably above
that of the Mandans and Riccarees, or Blackfeet; but about equal to
that of the Crows, Assinneboins and Minatarees, furnishing at least one
half of their warriors of six feet or more in height.

I am here living with, and enjoying the hospitality of a gentleman by
the name of _Laidlaw_, a Scotchman, who is attached to the American
Fur Company, and who, in company with Mr. M‘Kenzie (of whom I have
before spoken) and Lamont, has the whole agency of the Fur Company’s
transactions in the regions of the Upper Missouri and the Rocky
Mountains.

This gentleman has a finely-built Fort here, of two or three hundred
feet square, enclosing eight or ten of their factories, houses and
stores, in the midst of which he occupies spacious and comfortable
apartments, which are well supplied with the comforts and luxuries of
life and neatly and respectably conducted by a fine looking, modest,
and dignified Sioux woman, the kind and affectionate mother of his
little flock of pretty and interesting children.

[Illustration: 86]

This Fort is undoubtedly one of the most important and productive
of the American Fur Company’s posts, being in the centre of the
great Sioux country, drawing from all quarters an immense and almost
incredible number of buffalo robes, which are carried to the New York
and other Eastern markets, and sold at a great profit. This post
is thirteen hundred miles above St. Louis, on the west bank of the
Missouri, on a beautiful plain near the mouth of the Teton river which
empties into the Missouri from the West, and the Fort has received
the name of Fort Pierre, in compliment to Monsr. Pierre Chouteau, who
is one of the partners in the Fur Company, residing in St. Louis; and
to whose politeness I am indebted, as I have before mentioned, for my
passage in the Company’s steamer, on her first voyage to the Yellow
Stone; and whose urbane and gentlemanly society, I have before said, I
had during my passage.

The country about this Fort is almost entirely prairie, producing along
the banks of the river and streams only, slight skirtings of timber.
No site could have been selected more pleasing or more advantageous
than this; the Fort is in the centre of one of the Missouri’s most
beautiful plains, and hemmed in by a series of gracefully undulating,
grass-covered hills, on all sides; rising like a series of terraces, to
the summit level of the prairies, some three or four hundred feet in
elevation, which then stretches off in an apparently boundless ocean of
gracefully swelling waves and fields of green. On my way up the river
I made a painting of this lovely spot, taken from the summit of the
bluffs, a mile or two distant (+plate+ 85), shewing an encampment of
Sioux, of six hundred tents or skin lodges, around the Fort, where they
had concentrated to make their spring trade; exchanging their furs and
peltries for articles and luxuries of civilized manufactures.

The great family of Sioux who occupy so vast a tract of country,
extending from the banks of the Mississippi river to the base of
the Rocky Mountains, are everywhere a migratory or roaming tribe,
divided into forty-two bands or families, each having a chief who
all acknowledge a superior or head chief, to whom they all are held
subordinate. This subordination, however, I should rather record as
their _former_ and _native_ regulation, of which there exists no
doubt, than an _existing_ one, since the numerous innovations made
amongst these people by the Fur Traders, as well as by the proximity
of civilization along a great deal of their frontier, which soon upset
and change many native regulations, and particularly those relating to
their government and religion.

There is one principal and familiar division of this tribe into what
are called the _Mississippi_ and _Missouri_ Sioux. Those bordering
on the banks of the Mississippi, concentrating at Prairie du Chien
and Fort Snelling, for the purposes of trade, &c., are called the
Mississippi Sioux. These are somewhat advanced towards civilization,
and familiar with white people, with whom they have held intercourse
for many years, and are consequently excessive whiskey drinkers, though
constituting but a meagre proportion, and at the same time, but a very
unfair and imperfect sample of the great mass of this tribe who inhabit
the shores of the Missouri, and fearlessly roam on the vast plains
intervening between it and the Rocky Mountains, and are still living
entirely in their primitive condition.

There is no tribe on the Continent, perhaps, of finer looking men than
the Sioux; and few tribes who are better and more comfortably clad, and
supplied with the necessaries of life. There are no parts of the great
plains of America which are more abundantly stocked with buffaloes and
wild horses, nor any people more bold in destroying the one for food,
and appropriating the other to their use. There has gone abroad, from
the many histories which have been written of these people, an opinion
which is too current in the world, that the Indian is necessarily a
poor, drunken, murderous wretch; which account is certainly unjust
as regards the savage, and doing less than justice to the world for
whom such histories have been prepared. I have travelled several years
already amongst these people and I have not had my scalp taken, nor a
blow struck me; nor had occasion to raise my hand against an Indian;
nor has my property been stolen, as yet to my knowledge, to the value
of a shilling; and that in a country where no man is punishable by
law for the crime of stealing; still some of them steal, and murder
too; and if white men did not do the same, and that in defiance of
the laws of God and man, I might take satisfaction in stigmatizing
the Indian character as thievish and murderous. That the Indians in
their _native state_ are “_drunken_,” is false; for they are the only
temperance people, literally speaking, that ever I saw in my travels,
or ever expect to see. If the civilized world are startled at this,
it is the _fact_ that they must battle with, not with me; for these
people manufacture no spirituous liquor themselves, and know nothing
of it until it is brought into their country and tendered to them by
Christians. That these people are “_naked_” is equally untrue, and
as easily disproved; for I am sure that with the paintings I have
made amongst the Mandans and Crows, and other tribes; and with their
beautiful costumes which I have procured and shall bring home, I shall
be able to establish the fact that many of these people dress, not only
with clothes comfortable for any latitude, but that they also dress
with some considerable taste and elegance. Nor am I quite sure that
they are entitled to the name of “_poor_,” who live in a boundless
country of green fields, with good horses to ride; where they are
all joint tenants of the soil, together; where the Great Spirit has
supplied them with an abundance of food to eat—where they are all
indulging in the pleasures and amusements of a lifetime of idleness
and ease, with no business hours to attend to, or professions to
learn—where they have no notes in bank or other debts to pay—no taxes,
no tithes, no rents, nor beggars to touch and tax the sympathy of their
souls at every step they go. Such might be poverty in the Christian
world, but is sure to be a blessing where the pride and insolence of
comparative wealth are unknown.

[Illustration: 87]

[Illustration: 88]

I mentioned that this is the nucleus or place of concentration of the
numerous tribe of the Sioux, who often congregate here in great masses
to make their trades with the American Fur Company; and that on my way
up the river, some months since, I found here encamped, six hundred
families of Sioux, living in tents covered with buffalo hides. Amongst
these there were twenty or more of the different bands, each one with
their chief at their head, over whom was a _superior chief_ and leader,
a middle-aged man, of middling stature, with a noble countenance, and a
figure almost equalling the Apollo, and I painted his portrait (+plate+
86). The name of this chief is Ha-wan-je-tah (the one horn) of the
Mee-ne-cow-e-gee band, who has risen rapidly to the highest honours
in the tribe, from his own extraordinary merits, even at so early an
age. He told me that he took the name of “One Horn” (or shell) from a
simple small shell that was hanging on his neck, which descended to
him from his father, and which, he said, he valued more than anything
he possessed; affording a striking instance of the living affection
which these people often cherish for the dead, inasmuch as he chose
to carry this name through life in preference to many others and more
honourable ones he had a right to have taken, from different battles
and exploits of his extraordinary life. He treated me with great
kindness and attention, considering himself highly complimented by the
signal and unprecedented honour I had conferred upon him by painting
his portrait, and that before I had invited any other. His costume was
a very handsome one, and will have a place in my +Indian Gallery+ by
the side of his picture. It is made of elk skins beautifully dressed,
and fringed with a profusion of porcupine quills and scalp-locks; and
his hair, which is very long and profuse, divided into two parts, and
lifted up and crossed, over the top of his head, with a simple tie,
giving it somewhat the appearance of a Turkish turban.

This extraordinary man, before he was raised to the dignity of chief,
was the renowned of his tribe for his athletic achievements. In the
chase he was foremost; he could run down a buffalo, which he often had
done, on his own legs, and drive his arrow to the heart. He was the
fleetest in the tribe; and in the races he had run, he had always taken
the prize.

It was proverbial in his tribe, that Ha-wan-je-tah’s bow never was
drawn in vain, and his wigwam was abundantly furnished with scalps that
he had taken from his enemies’ heads in battle.

Having descended the river thus far, then, and having hauled out
my canoe, and taken up my quarters for awhile with mine hospitable
host, Mr. Laidlaw, as I have before said; and having introduced my
readers to the country and the people, and more particularly to the
chief dignitary of the Sioux; and having promised in the beginning of
this Letter also, that I should give them some amusing and curious
information that we picked up, and incidents that we met with, on
our voyage from the Mandans to this place; I have again to beg that
they will pardon me for withholding from them yet awhile longer, the
incidents of that curious and most important part of my Tour, the
absence of which, at this time, seems to make a “hole in the ballad,”
though I promise my readers they are written, and will appear in the
book in a proper and appropriate place.

Taking it for granted then, that I will be indulged in this freak, I am
taking the liberty of presuming on my readers’ patience in proposing
another, which is to offer them here an extract from my Notes, which
were made on my journey of 1300 miles from St. Louis to this place,
where I stopped, as I have said, amongst several thousands of Sioux;
where I remained for some time, and painted my numerous portraits of
their chiefs, &c.; one of whom was the head and leader of the Sioux,
whom I have already introduced. On the long and tedious route that lies
between St. Louis and this place, I passed the Sacs and Ioways—the
Konzas—the Omahaws, and the Otoes (making notes on them all, which are
reserved for another place), and landed at the Puncahs, a small tribe
residing in one village, on the west bank of the river, 300 miles below
this, and 1000 from St. Louis.

The Puncahs are all contained in seventy-five or eighty lodges, made of
buffalo skins, in the form of tents; the frames for which are poles of
fifteen or twenty feet in length, with the butt ends standing on the
ground, and the small ends meeting at the top, forming a cone, which
sheds off the rain and wind with perfect success. This small remnant
of a tribe are not more than four or five hundred in numbers; and I
should think, at least, two-thirds of those are women. This disparity
in numbers having been produced by the continual losses which their
men suffer, who are penetrating the buffalo country for meat, for
which they are now obliged to travel a great way (as the buffaloes
have recently left their country), exposing their lives to their more
numerous enemies about them.

The chief of this tribe, whose name is Shoo-de-ga-cha (smoke), I
painted at full length (+plate+ 87), and his wife also, a young and
very pretty woman (+plate+ 88), whose name is Hee-la’h-dee (the
pure fountain); her neck and arms were curiously tattooed, which is
a very frequent mode of ornamenting the body amongst this and some
other tribes, which is done by pricking into the skin, gunpowder and
vermilion.

The chief, who was wrapped in a buffalo robe, is a noble specimen of
native dignity and philosophy. I conversed much with him; and from his
dignified manners, as well as from the soundness of his reasoning, I
became fully convinced that he deserved to be the sachem of a more
numerous and prosperous tribe. He related to me with great coolness
and frankness, the poverty and distress of his nation; and with the
method of a philosopher, predicted the certain and rapid extinction of
his tribe, which he had not the power to avert. Poor, noble chief; who
was equal to, and worthy of a greater empire! He sat upon the deck of
the steamer, overlooking the little cluster of his wigwams mingled
amongst the trees; and, like Caius Marius, weeping over the ruins
of Carthage, shed tears as he was descanting on the poverty of his
ill-fated little community, which he told me “had once been powerful
and happy; that the buffaloes which the Great Spirit had given them
for food, and which formerly spread all over their green prairies, had
all been killed or driven out by the approach of white men, who wanted
their skins; that their country was now entirely destitute of game,
and even of roots for their food, as it was one continued prairie;
and that his young men penetrating the countries of their enemies
for buffaloes, which they were obliged to do, were cut to pieces and
destroyed in great numbers. That his people had foolishly become fond
of _fire-water_ (whiskey), and had given away everything in their
country for it—that it had destroyed many of his warriors, and soon
would destroy the rest—that his tribe was too small, and his warriors
too few to go to war with the tribes around them; that they were met
and killed by the Sioux on the North, by the Pawnees on the West; and
by the Osages and Konzas on the South; and still more alarmed from the
constant advance of the pale faces—their enemies from the East, with
whiskey and small-pox, which already had destroyed four-fifths of his
tribe, and soon would impoverish, and at last destroy the remainder of
them.”

[Illustration: 89]

[Illustration: 90]

In this way did this shrewd philosopher lament over the unlucky destiny
of his tribe; and I pitied him with all my heart. I have no doubt of
the correctness of his representations; and I believe there is no tribe
on the frontier more in want, nor any more deserving of the sympathy
and charity of the government and Christian societies of the civilized
world.

The son of this chief, a youth of eighteen years, and whose portrait I
painted (+plate+ 90), distinguished himself in a singular manner the
day before our steamer reached their village, by taking to him _four
wives in one day_! This extraordinary and unprecedented freak of his,
was just the thing to make him the greatest sort of _medicine_ in the
eyes of his people; and probably he may date much of his success and
greatness through life, to this bold and original step, which suddenly
raised him into notice and importance.

The old chief Shoo-de-ga-cha, of whom I have spoken above, considering
his son to have arrived to the age of maturity, fitted him out for
house-keeping, by giving him a handsome wigwam to live in, and nine
horses, with many other valuable presents; when the boy, whose name
is Hongs-kay-de (the great chief), soon laid his plans for the proud
and pleasant epoch in his life, and consummated them in the following
ingenious and amusing manner.

Wishing to connect himself with, and consequently to secure the
countenance of some of the most influential men in the tribe, he had
held an interview with one of the most distinguished; and easily
(being the son of a chief), made an arrangement for the hand of his
daughter, which he was to receive on a certain day, and at a certain
hour, for which he was to give two horses, a gun, and several pounds
of tobacco. This was enjoined on the father as a profound secret, and
as a condition of the espousal. In like manner he soon made similar
arrangements with three other leading men of the tribe, each of whom
had a young and beautiful daughter, of marriageable age. To each of
the fathers he had promised two horses, and other presents similar
to those stipulated for in the first instance, and all under the
same injunctions of secrecy, until the hour approached, when he had
announced to the whole tribe that he was to be married. At the time
appointed, they all assembled, and all were in ignorance of the fair
hand that was to be placed in his on this occasion. He had got some
of his young friends who were prepared to assist him, to lead up
the eight horses. He took two of them by the halters, and the other
presents agreed upon in his other hand, and advancing to the first of
the parents, whose daughter was standing by the side of him, saying
to him, “you promised me the hand of your daughter on this day, for
which I was to give you two horses.” The father assented with a “ugh!”
receiving the presents, and giving his child; when some confusion
ensued from the simultaneous remonstrances, which were suddenly made by
the other three parents, who had brought their daughters forward, and
were shocked at this sudden disappointment, as well as by the mutual
declarations they were making, of similar contracts that each one had
entered into with him! As soon as they could be pacified, and silence
was restored, he exultingly replied, “You have all acknowledged in
public your promises with me, which I shall expect you to fulfil. I am
here to perform all the engagements which I have made, and I expect
you all to do the same”—No more was said. He led up the two horses for
each, and delivered the other presents; leading off to his wigwam his
four brides—taking two in each hand, and commenced at once upon his new
mode of life; reserving only one of his horses for his own daily use.

I visited the wigwam of this young installed _medicine-man_ several
times, and saw his four modest little wives seated around the fire,
where all seemed to harmonize very well; and for aught I could
discover, were entering very happily on the duties and pleasures of
married life. I selected one of them for her portrait, and painted it
(+plate+ 89), Mong-shong-shaw (the bending willow), in a very pretty
dress of deer skins, and covered with a young buffalo’s robe, which was
handsomely ornamented, and worn with much grace and pleasing effect.

Mr. Chouteau of the Fur Company, and Major Sanford, the agent for the
Upper Missouri Indians, were with me at this time; and both of these
gentlemen, highly pleased with so ingenious and _innocent_ a freak,
felt disposed to be liberal, and sent them many presents from the
steamer.

The ages of these young brides were probably all between twelve and
fifteen years, the season of life in which most of the girls in this
wild country contract marriage.

[Illustration: 91]

It is a surprising fact, that women mature in these regions at that
early age, and there have been some instances where marriage has taken
place, even at eleven; and the juvenile mother has been blest with her
first offspring at the age of twelve!

These facts are calculated to create surprise and almost incredulity
in the mind of the reader, but there are circumstances for his
consideration yet to be known, which will in a manner account for these
extraordinary facts.

There is not a doubt but there is a more early approach to maturity
amongst the females of this country than in civilized communities,
owing either to a natural and constitutional difference, or to the
exposed and active life they lead. Yet there is another and more
general cause of early marriages (and consequently apparent maturity),
which arises out of the modes and forms of the country, where most
of the marriages are contracted with the parents, hurried on by the
impatience of the applicant, and prematurely accepted and consummated
on the part of the parents, who are often impatient to be in receipt
of the presents they are to receive as the price of their daughters.
There is also the facility of dissolving the marriage contract in this
country, which does away with one of the most serious difficulties
which lies in the way in the civilized world, and calculated greatly
to retard its consummation, which is not an equal objection in Indian
communities. Education and accomplishments, again, in the fashionable
world, and also a time and a season to flourish and show them off,
necessarily engross that part of a young lady’s life, when the poor
Indian girl, who finds herself weaned from the familiar embrace of her
parents, with her mind and her body maturing, and her thoughts and her
passions straying away in the world for some theme or some pleasure
to cling to, easily follows their juvenile and ardent dictates,
prematurely entering on that system of life, consisting in reciprocal
dependence and protection.

In the instance above described, the young man was in no way censured
by his people, but most loudly applauded; for in this country polygamy
is allowed; and in this tribe, where there are two or three times the
number of women that there are of men, such an arrangement answers a
good purpose, whereby so many of the females are provided for and taken
care of; and particularly so, and to the great satisfaction of the
tribe, as well as of the parties and families concerned, when so many
fall to the lot of a chief, or the son of a chief, into whose wigwam it
is considered an honour to be adopted, and where they are the most sure
of protection.




                             LETTER—No. 27.

                MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


When we were about to start on our way up the river from the village
of the Puncahs, we found that they were packing up all their goods and
preparing to start for the prairies, farther to the West, in pursuit
of buffaloes, to dry meat for their winter’s supplies. They took down
their wigwams of skins to carry with them, and all were flat to the
ground and everything packing up ready for the start. My attention
was directed by Major Sanford, the Indian Agent, to one of the most
miserable and helpless looking objects that I ever had seen in my life,
a very aged and emaciated man of the tribe, who he told me was to be
_exposed_.

The tribe were going where hunger and dire necessity compelled them
to go, and this pitiable object, who had once been a chief, and a man
of distinction in his tribe, who was now too old to travel, being
reduced to mere skin and bones, was to be left to starve, or meet
with such death as might fall to his lot, and his bones to be picked
by the wolves! I lingered around this poor old forsaken patriarch for
hours before we started, to indulge the tears of sympathy which were
flowing for the sake of this poor benighted and decrepit old man,
whose worn-out limbs were no longer able to support him; their kind
and faithful offices having long since been performed, and his body
and his mind doomed to linger into the withering agony of decay, and
gradual solitary death. I wept, and it was a pleasure to weep, for the
painful looks, and the dreary prospects of this old veteran, whose
eyes were dimmed, whose venerable locks were whitened by an hundred
years, whose limbs were almost naked, and trembling as he sat by a
small fire which his friends had left him, with a few sticks of wood
within his reach and a buffalo’s skin stretched upon some crotches over
his head. Such was to be his only dwelling, and such the chances for
his life, with only a few half-picked bones that were laid within his
reach, and a dish of water, without weapons or means of any kind to
replenish them, or strength to move his body from its fatal locality.
In this sad plight I mournfully contemplated this miserable remnant
of existence, who had unluckily outlived the fates and accidents of
wars to die alone, at death’s leisure. His friends and his children
had all left him, and were preparing in a little time to be on the
march. He had told them to leave him, “he was old,” he said, “and too
feeble to march.” “My children,” said he, “our nation is poor, and
it is necessary that you should all go to the country where you can
get meat,—my eyes are dimmed and my strength is no more; my days are
nearly all numbered, and I am a burthen to my children—I cannot go, and
I wish to die. Keep your hearts stout, and think not of me; I am no
longer good for anything.” In this way they had finished the ceremony
of _exposing_ him, and taken their final leave of him. I advanced to
the old man, and was undoubtedly the last human being who held converse
with him. I sat by the side of him, and though he could not distinctly
see me, he shook me heartily by the hand and smiled, evidently aware
that I was a white man, and that I sympathized with his inevitable
misfortune. I shook hands again with him, and left him, steering my
course towards the steamer which was a mile or more from me, and ready
to resume her voyage up the Missouri.[6]

This cruel custom of exposing their aged people, belongs, I think, to
all the tribes who roam about the prairies, making severe marches,
when such decrepit persons are totally unable to go, unable to ride or
to walk,—when they have no means of carrying them. It often becomes
absolutely necessary in such cases that they should be left; and they
uniformly insist upon it, saying as this old man did, that they are
old and of no further use—that they left their fathers in the same
manner—that they wish to die, and their children must not mourn for
them.

From the Puncah village, our steamer made regular progress from day
to day towards the mouth of the Teton, from where I am now writing;
passing the whole way a country of green fields, that come sloping down
to the river on either side, forming the loveliest scenes in the world.

From day to day we advanced, opening our eyes to something new and
more beautiful every hour that we progressed, until at last our boat
was aground; and a day’s work of sounding told us at last, that there
was no possibility of advancing further, until there should be a rise
in the river, to enable the boat to get over the bar. After laying in
the middle of the river about a week, in this unpromising dilemma, Mr.
Chouteau started off twenty men on foot, to cross the plains for a
distance of 200 miles to Laidlaw’s Fort, at the mouth of Teton river.
To this expedition, I immediately attached myself; and having heard
that a numerous party of Sioux were there encamped, and waiting to see
the steamer, I packed on the backs, and in the hands of several of the
men, such articles for painting, as I might want; canvass, paints, and
brushes, with my sketch-book slung on my back, and my rifle in my hand,
and I started off with them.

We took leave of our friends on the boat, and mounting the green
bluffs, steered our course from day to day over a level prairie,
without a tree or a bush in sight, to relieve the painful monotony,
filling our canteens at the occasional little streams that we passed,
kindling our fires with dried buffalo dung, which we collected on the
prairie, and stretching our tired limbs on the level turf whenever we
were overtaken by night.

We were six or seven days in performing this march; and it gave me a
good opportunity of testing the muscles of my legs, with a number of
half-breeds and Frenchmen, whose lives are mostly spent in this way,
leading a novice, a cruel, and almost killing journey. Every rod of our
way was over a continuous prairie, with a verdant green turf of wild
grass of six or eight inches in height; and most of the way enamelled
with wild flowers, and filled with a profusion of strawberries.

For two or three of the first days, the scenery was monotonous, and
became exceedingly painful from the fact, that we were (to use a
phrase of the country) “out of sight of land,” _i. e._ out of sight
of anything rising above the horizon, which was a perfect straight
line around us, like that of the blue and boundless ocean. The
pedestrian over such a discouraging sea of green, without a landmark
before or behind him; without a beacon to lead him on, or define his
progress, feels weak and overcome when night falls; and he stretches
his exhausted limbs, apparently on the same spot where he has slept
the night before, with the same prospect before and behind him; the
same grass, and the same wild flowers beneath and about him; the same
canopy over his head, and the same cheerless sea of green to start
upon in the morning. It is difficult to describe the simple beauty
and serenity of these scenes of solitude, or the feelings of feeble
man, whose limbs are toiling to carry him through them—without a hill
or tree to mark his progress, and convince him that he is not, like a
squirrel in his cage, after all his toil, standing still. One commences
on peregrinations like these, with a light heart, and a nimble foot,
and spirits as buoyant as the very air that floats along by the side of
him; but his spirit soon tires, and he lags on the way that is rendered
more tedious and intolerable by the tantalizing _mirage_ that opens
before him beautiful lakes, and lawns, and copses; or by the _looming_
of the prairie ahead of him, that seems to rise in a parapet, and
decked with its varied flowers, phantom-like, flies and moves along
before him.

I got on for a couple of days in tolerable condition, and with some
considerable applause; but my half-bred, companions took the lead at
length, and left me with several other novices far behind, which gave
me additional pangs; and I at length felt like giving up the journey,
and throwing myself upon the ground in hopeless despair. I was not
alone in my misery, however, but was cheered and encouraged by looking
back and beholding several of our party half a mile or more in the rear
of me, jogging along, and suffering more agony in their new experiment
than I was suffering myself. Their loitering and my murmurs, at length,
brought our leaders to a halt, and we held a sort of council, in which
I explained that the pain in my feet was so intolerable, that I felt as
if I could go no further; when one of our half-breed leaders stepped
up to me, and addressing me in French, told me that I must “_turn my
toes in_” as the Indians do, and that I could then go on very well. We
halted a half-hour, and took a little refreshment, whilst the little
Frenchman was teaching his lesson to the rest of my fellow-novices,
when we took up our march again; and I soon found upon trial, that by
turning my toes in, my feet went more easily through the grass; and by
turning the weight of my body more equally on the toes (enabling each
one to support its proportionable part of the load, instead of throwing
it all on to the joints of the big toes, which is done when the toes
are turned out); I soon got relief, and made my onward progress very
well. I rigidly adhered to this mode, and found no difficulty on the
third and fourth days, of taking the lead of the whole party, which I
constantly led until our journey was completed.[7]

On this journey we saw immense herds of buffaloes; and although we had
no horses to _run_ them, we successfully _approached_ them on foot,
and supplied ourselves abundantly with fresh meat. After travelling
for several days, we came in sight of a high range of blue hills in
distance on our left, which rose to the height of several hundred
feet above the level of the prairies. These hills were a conspicuous
landmark at last, and some relief to us. I was told by our guide, that
they were called the Bijou Hills, from a Fur Trader of that name, who
had had his trading-house at the foot of them on the banks of the
Missouri river, where he was at last destroyed by the Sioux Indians.

Not many miles back of this range of hills, we came in contact with an
immense saline, or “salt meadow,” as they are termed in this country,
which turned us out of our path, and compelled us to travel several
miles out of our way, to get by it; we came suddenly upon a great
depression of the prairie, which extended for several miles, and as
we stood upon its green banks, which were gracefully sloping down, we
could overlook some hundreds of acres of the prairie which were covered
with an incrustation of salt, that appeared the same as if the ground
was everywhere covered with snow.

These scenes, I am told are frequently to be met with in these regions,
and certainly present the most singular and startling effect, by the
sudden and unexpected contrast between their snow-white appearance,
and the green fields that hem them in on all sides. Through each of
these meadows there is a meandering small stream which arises from
salt springs, throwing out in the spring of the year great quantities
of water, which flood over these meadows to the depth of three or four
feet; and during the heat of summer, being exposed to the rays of
the sun, entirely evaporates, leaving the incrustation of _muriate_
on the surface, to the depth of one or two inches. These places are
the constant resort of buffaloes, which congregate in thousands about
them, to lick up the salt; and on approaching the banks of this place
we stood amazed at the almost incredible numbers of these animals,
which were in sight on the opposite banks, at the distance of a mile or
two from us, where they were lying in countless numbers, on the level
prairie above, and stretching down by hundreds, to lick at the salt,
forming in distance, large masses of black, most pleasingly to contrast
with the snow white, and the vivid green, which I have before mentioned.

After several days toil in the manner above-mentioned, all the way
over soft and green fields, and amused with many pleasing incidents
and accidents of the chase, we arrived, pretty well jaded, at Fort
Pierre, mouth of Teton River, from whence I am now writing; where for
the first time I was introduced to Mr. M‘Kenzie (of whom I have before
spoken), to Mr. Laidlaw, mine host, and Mr. Halsey, a chief clerk in
the establishment; and after, to the head chief and dignitaries of the
great Sioux nation, who were here encamped about the Fort, in six or
seven hundred skin lodges, and waiting for the arrival of the steamer,
which they had heard, was on its way up the river, and which they had
great curiosity to see.

After resting a few days, and recovering from the fatigues of my
journey, having taken a fair survey of the Sioux village, and explained
my views to the Indians, as well as to the gentlemen whom I have
above named; I commenced my operations with the brush, and first of
all painted the portrait of the head-chief of the Sioux (the one
horn), whom I have before spoken of. This truly noble fellow sat for
his portrait, and it was finished before any one of the tribe knew
anything of it; several of the chiefs and doctors were allowed to see
it, and at last it was talked of through the village; and of course,
the greater part of their numbers were at once gathered around me.
Nothing short of hanging it out of doors on the side of my wigwam,
would in any way answer them; and here I had the peculiar satisfaction
of beholding, through a small hole I had made in my wigwam, the high
admiration and respect they all felt for their chief, as well as
the very great estimation in which they held me as a painter and a
magician, conferring upon me at once the very distinguished appellation
of Ee-cha-zoo-kah-ga-wa-kon (the medicine painter).

After the exhibition of this chief’s picture, there was much excitement
in the village about it; the doctors generally took a decided and noisy
stand against the operations of my brush; haranguing the populace, and
predicting bad luck, and premature death, to all who submitted to so
strange and unaccountable an operation! My business for some days was
entirely at a stand for want of sitters; for the doctors were opposing
me with all their force; and the women and children were crying, with
their hands over their mouths, making the most pitiful and doleful
laments, which I never can explain to my readers; but for some just
account of which, I must refer them to my friends M‘Kenzie and Halsey,
who overlooked with infinite amusement, these curious scenes and are
able, no doubt, to give them with truth and effect to the world.

In this sad and perplexing dilemma, this noble chief stepped forward,
and addressing himself to the chiefs and the doctors, to the braves and
to the women and children, he told them to be quiet, and to treat me
with friendship; that I had been travelling a great way to see them,
and smoke with them; that I was great _medicine_, to be sure; that I
was a great chief, and that I was the friend of Mr. Laidlaw and Mr.
M‘Kenzie, who had prevailed upon him to sit for his picture, and fully
assured him that there was no harm in it. His speech had the desired
effect, and I was shaken hands with by hundreds of their worthies, many
of whom were soon dressed and ornamented, prepared to sit for their
portraits.[8]

The first who then stepped forward for his portrait was Ee-ah-sa-pa
(the Black Rock) chief of the Nee-caw-wee-gee band (+plate+ 91), a tall
and fine looking man, of six feet or more in stature; in a splendid
dress, with his lance in his hand; with his pictured robe thrown
gracefully over his shoulders, and his head-dress made of war-eagles’
quills and ermine skins, falling in a beautiful crest over his back,
quite down to his feet, and surmounted on the top with a pair of horns
denoting him (as I have explained in former instances) head leader or
war-chief of his band.

This man has been a constant and faithful friend of Mr. M‘Kenzie and
others of the Fur Traders, who held him in high estimation, both as an
honourable and valiant man, and an estimable companion.

The next who sat to me was Tchan-dee, tobacco (+plate+ 92), a desperate
warrior, and represented to me by the traders, as one of the most
respectable and famous chiefs of the tribe. After him sat Toh-ki-ee-to,
the stone with horns (+plate+ 93), chief of the Yanc-ton band, and
reputed the principal and most eloquent _orator_ of the nation. The
neck, and breast, and shoulders of this man, were curiously tattooed,
by pricking in gunpowder and vermilion, which in this extraordinary
instance, was put on in such elaborate profusion as to appear at a
little distance like a beautifully embroidered dress. In his hand he
held a handsome pipe, the stem of which was several feet long, and all
the way wound with ornamented braids of the porcupine quills. Around
his body was wrapped a valued robe, made of the skin of the grizzly
bear, and on his neck several strings of _wampum_, an ornament seldom
seen amongst the Indians in the Far West and the North.[9] I was
much amused with the excessive vanity and egotism of this notorious
man, who, whilst sitting for his picture, took occasion to have the
interpreter constantly explaining to me the wonderful effects which his
oratory had at different times produced on the minds of the chiefs and
people of his tribe.

[Illustration: 92 93]

[Illustration: 94 95]

[Illustration: 96]

[Illustration: 97]

He told me, that it was a very easy thing for him to set all the women
of the tribe to crying: and that all the chiefs listened profoundly to
his voice before they went to war; and at last, summed up by saying,
that he was “the greatest orator in the Sioux nation,” by which he
undoubtedly meant the greatest in the _world_.

Besides these _distingués_ of this great and powerful tribe, I
painted in regular succession, according to their rank and standing,
Wan-ee-ton, chief of the _Susseton band_; Tah-zee-kah-da-cha (the torn
belly), a brave of the _Yancton band_; Ka-pes-ka-day (the shell), a
brave of the _O-gla-la band_; Wuk-mi-ser (corn), a warrior of the
_Nee-cow-ee-gee band_; Cha-tee-wah-nee-chee (no heart), chief of the
_Wah-nee-watch-to-nee-nah band_; Mah-to-ra-rish-nee-eeh-ee-rah (the
grizzly bear that runs without regard), a brave of the _Onc-pa-pa
band_; Mah-to-chee-ga (the little bear), a distinguished brave;
Shon-ka (the dog), chief of the _Ca-za-zhee-ta_ (bad arrow points)
_band_; Tah-teck-a-da-hair (the steep wind), a brave of the same
band; Hah-ha-ra-pah (the elk’s head), chief of the _Ee-ta-sip-shov
band_; Mah-to-een-nah-pa (the white bear that goes out), chief of the
_Blackfoot Sioux band_; Shon-ga-ton-ga-chesh-en-day (the horse dung),
chief of a band, a great conjuror and magician.

The portraits of all the above dignitaries can be always seen, as large
as life, in my very numerous Collection, provided I get them safe
home; and also the portraits of two very pretty Sioux women (+plate+
94), Wi-looh-tah-eeh-tchah-ta-mah-nee (the red thing that touches
in marching), and (+plate+ 95), Tchon-su-mons-ka (the sand bar). The
first of these women (+plate+ 94), is the daughter of the famous chief
called Black Rock, of whom I have spoken, and whose portrait has been
given (+plate+ 91). She is an unmarried girl, and much esteemed by the
whole tribe, for her modesty, as well as beauty. She was beautifully
dressed in skins, ornamented profusely with brass buttons and beads.
Her hair was plaited, her ears supported a great profusion of curious
beads—and over her other dress she wore a handsomely garnished buffalo
robe.

So highly was the Black Rock esteemed (as I have before mentioned), and
his beautiful daughter admired and respected by the Traders, that Mr.
M‘Kenzie employed me to make him copies of their two portraits, which
he has hung up in Mr. Laidlaw’s trading-house, as valued ornaments and
keepsakes.[10]

The second of these women (+plate+ 95) was very richly dressed, the
upper part of her garment being almost literally covered with brass
buttons; and her hair, which was inimitably beautiful and soft, and
glossy as silk, fell over her shoulders in great profusion, and in
beautiful waves, produced by the condition in which it is generally
kept in braids, giving to it, when combed out, a waving form, adding
much to its native appearance, which is invariably straight and
graceless.

This woman is at present the wife of a white man by the name of
Chardon, a Frenchman, who has been many years in the employment of the
American Fur Company, in the character of a Trader and Interpreter;
and who by his bold and daring nature, has not only carried dread and
consternation amongst the Indian tribes wherever he has gone; but
has commanded much respect, and rendered essential service to the
Company in the prosecution of their dangerous and critical dealings
with the Indian tribes. I have said something of this extraordinary
man heretofore, and shall take future occasion to say more of him.
For the present, suffice it to say, that although from his continual
intercourse with the different tribes for twenty-five or thirty years,
where he had always been put forward in the front of danger—sent
as a sacrifice, or _forlorn hope_; still his cut and hacked limbs
have withstood all the blows that have been aimed at them; and his
unfaltering courage leads him to “beard the lion in his den,” whilst
his liberal heart, as it always has, deals out to his friends (and even
to strangers, if friends are not by) all the dear earnings which are
continually bought with severest toil, and at the hazard of his life.

I acknowledge myself a debtor to this good hearted fellow for much
kindness and attention to me whilst in the Indian country, and also for
a superb dress and robe, which had been manufactured and worn by his
wife, and which he insisted on adding to my +Indian Gallery+ since her
death, where it will long remain to be examined.[11]

  [6] When passing by the site of the Puncah village a few months
  after this, in my canoe, I went ashore with my men, and found the
  poles and the buffalo skin, standing as they were left, over the
  old man’s head. The firebrands were lying nearly as I had left
  them, and I found at a few yards distant the skull, and others of
  his bones, which had been picked and cleaned by the wolves; which
  is probably all that any human being can ever know of his final and
  melancholy fate.


  [7] On this march we were all travelling in moccasins, which being
  made without any soles, according to the Indian custom, had but
  little support for the foot underneath; and consequently, soon
  subjected us to excruciating pain, whilst walking according to the
  civilized mode, with the toes turned out. From this very painful
  experience I learned to my complete satisfaction, that man in a
  state of nature who walks on his naked feet, _must_ walk with his
  toes turned in, that each may perform the duties assigned to it in
  proportion to its size and strength; and that civilized man _can_
  walk with his toes turned out if he chooses, if he will use a stiff
  sole under his feet, and will be content at last to put up with an
  acquired deformity of the big toe joint which too many know to be a
  frequent and painful occurrence.


  [8] Several years after I painted the portrait of this
  extraordinary man, and whilst I was delivering my Lectures in the
  City of New York, I first received intelligence of his death,
  in the following singular manner:—I was on the platform in my
  Lecture-room, in the Stuyvesant Institute, with an audience of
  twelve or fourteen hundred persons, in the midst of whom were
  seated a delegation of thirty or forty Sioux Indians under the
  charge of Major Pilcher, their agent; and I was successfully
  passing before their eyes the portraits of a number of Sioux
  chiefs, and making my remarks upon them. The Sioux instantly
  recognized each one as it was exhibited, which they instantly
  hailed by a sharp and startling yelp. But when the portrait of this
  chief was placed before them, instead of the usual recognition,
  each one placed his hand over his mouth, and gave a “hush—sh—” and
  hung down their heads, their usual expressions of grief in case of
  a death. From this sudden emotion, I knew instantly, that the chief
  must be dead, and so expressed my belief to the audience. I stopped
  my Lecture a few moments to converse with Major Pilcher who was by
  my side, and who gave me the following extraordinary account of his
  death, which I immediately related to the audience; and which being
  translated to the Sioux Indians, their chief arose and addressed
  himself to the audience, saying that the account was true, and that
  Ha-wan-je-tah was killed but a few days before they left home.

  The account which Major Pilcher gave was nearly as follows:—

  “But a few weeks before I left the Sioux country with the
  delegation, Ha-wan-je-tah (the one horn) had in some way been the
  accidental cause of the death of his only son, a very fine youth;
  and so great was the anguish of his mind at times, that he became
  frantic and insane. In one of these moods he mounted his favourite
  war-horse with his bow and his arrows in his hand, and dashed off
  at full speed upon the prairies, repeating the most solemn oath,
  ‘that he would slay the first living thing that fell in his way, be
  it man or beast, or friend or foe.’

  “No one dared to follow him, and after he had been absent an hour
  or two, his horse came back to the village with two arrows in its
  body, and covered with blood! Fears of the most serious kind were
  now entertained for the fate of the chief, and a party of warriors
  immediately mounted their horses, and retraced the animal’s tracks
  to the place of the tragedy, where they found the body of their
  chief horribly mangled and gored by a buffalo bull, whose carcass
  was stretched by the side of him.

  “A close examination of the ground was then made by the Indians,
  who ascertained by the tracks, that their unfortunate chief, under
  his unlucky resolve, had met a buffalo bull in the season when
  they are very stubborn, and unwilling to run from any one; and
  had incensed the animal by shooting a number of arrows into him,
  which had brought him into furious combat. The chief had then
  dismounted, and turned his horse loose, having given it a couple of
  arrows from his bow, which sent it home at full speed, and then had
  thrown away his bow and quiver, encountering the infuriated animal
  with his knife alone, and the desperate battle resulted as I have
  before-mentioned, in the death of both. Many of the bones of the
  chief were broken, as he was gored and stamped to death, and his
  huge antagonist had laid his body by the side of him, weltering in
  blood from an hundred wounds made by the chief’s long and two-edged
  knife.”

  So died this elegant and high-minded nobleman of the wilderness,
  whom I confidently had hoped to meet and admire again at some
  future period of my life. (_Vide_ +plate+ 86).


  [9] _Wampum_ is the Indian name of ornaments manufactured by the
  Indians from vari-coloured shells, which they get on the shores of
  the fresh water streams, and file or cut into bits of half an inch,
  or an inch in length, and perforate (giving to them the shape of
  pieces of broken pipe stems), which they string on deers’ sinews,
  and wear on their necks in profusion; or weave them ingeniously
  into war-belts for the waist.

  Amongst the numerous tribes who have formerly inhabited the
  Atlantic Coast, and that part of the country which now constitutes
  the principal part of the United States, wampum has been invariably
  manufactured, and highly valued as a circulating medium (instead of
  coins, of which the Indians have no knowledge); so many strings, or
  so many hands-breadth, being the fixed value of a horse, a gun, a
  robe, &c.

  In treaties, the wampum belt has been passed as the pledge of
  friendship, and from time immemorial sent to hostile tribes, as the
  messenger of peace; or paid by so many fathoms length, as tribute
  to conquering enemies, and Indian kings.

  It is a remarkable fact, and worthy of observation in this place,
  that after I passed the Mississippi, I saw but very little wampum
  used; and on ascending the Missouri, I do not recollect to have
  seen it worn at all by the Upper Missouri Indians, although the
  same materials for its manufacture are found in abundance through
  those regions. I met with but very few strings of it amongst the
  Missouri Sioux, and nothing of it amongst the tribes north and
  west of them. Below the Sioux, and along the whole of our Western
  frontier, the different tribes are found loaded and beautifully
  ornamented with it, which they can now afford to do, for they
  consider it of little value, as the Fur Traders have ingeniously
  introduced a spurious imitation of it, manufactured by steam or
  otherwise, of porcelain or some composition closely resembling it,
  with which they have flooded the whole Indian country, and sold at
  so reduced a price, as to cheapen, and consequently destroy, the
  value and meaning of the original wampum, a string of which can now
  but very rarely be found in any part of the country.


  [10] Several years after I left the Sioux country, I saw Messrs.
  Chardon and Piquot, two of the Traders from that country, who
  recently had left it, and told me in St. Louis, whilst looking at
  the portrait of this girl, that while staying in Mr. Laidlaw’s
  Fort, the chief, Black Rock, entered the room suddenly where the
  portrait of his daughter was hanging on the wall, and pointing to
  it with a heavy heart, told Mr. Laidlaw, that whilst his band was
  out on the prairies, where they had been for several months “making
  meat,” his daughter had died, and was there buried. “My heart is
  glad again,” said he, “when I see her here alive; and I want the
  one the medicine-man made of her, which is now before me, that I
  can see her, and talk to her. My band are all in mourning for her,
  and at the gate of your Fort, which I have just passed, are ten
  horses for you, and Ee-ah-sa-pa’s wigwam, which you know is the
  best one in the Sioux nation. I wish you to take down my daughter
  and give her to me.” Mr. Laidlaw, seeing the _unusually_ liberal
  price that this nobleman was willing to pay for a portrait, and
  the true grief that he expressed for the loss of his child, had
  not the heart to abuse such noble feeling; and taking the painting
  from the wall, placed it into his hands; telling him that it of
  right belonged to him, and that his horses and wigwam he must take
  back and keep them, to mend, as far as possible, his liberal heart,
  which was broken by the loss of his only daughter.


  [11] Several years since writing the above, I made a visit with
  my wife, to the venerable parent of Mr. Chardon, who lives in her
  snug and neat mansion, near the City of Philadelphia, where we were
  treated with genuine politeness and hospitality. His mother and two
  sisters, who are highly respectable, had many anxious questions
  to ask about him; and had at the same time, living with them, a
  fine-looking half-breed boy, about ten years old, the son of Monsr.
  Chardon and his Indian wife, whom I have above spoken of. This fine
  boy who had received the name of Bolivar, had been brought from the
  Indian country by the father, and left here for his education, with
  which they were taking great pains.




                             LETTER—No. 28.

                MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Whilst painting the portraits of the chiefs and braves of the Sioux,
as described in my last epistle, my painting-room was the continual
rendezvous of the worthies of the tribe; and I, the “lion of the day,”
and my art, the _summum_ and _ne plus ultra_ of mysteries, which
engaged the whole conversation of chiefs and sachems, as well as of
women and children. I mentioned that I have been obliged to paint them
according to rank, as they looked upon the operation as a very great
honour, which I, as “a great chief and medicine-man,” was conferring on
all who sat to me. Fortunate it was for me, however, that the honour
was not a sufficient inducement for all to overcome their fears, which
often stood in the way of their consenting to be painted; for if all
had been willing to undergo the operation, I should have progressed
but a very little way in the “_rank and file_” of their worthies; and
should have had to leave many discontented, and (as they would think)
neglected. About one in five or eight was willing to be painted, and
the rest thought they would be much more sure of “sleeping quiet in
their graves” after they were dead, if their pictures were not made. By
this lucky difficulty I got great relief, and easily got through with
those who were willing, and at the same time decided by the chiefs to
be worthy, of so signal an honour.

After I had done with the chiefs and braves, and proposed to paint a
few of the women, I at once got myself into a serious perplexity, being
heartily laughed at by the whole tribe, both by men and by women, for
my exceeding and (to them) unaccountable condescension in seriously
proposing to paint a woman; conferring on her the same honour that
I had done the chiefs and braves. Those whom I had honoured, were
laughed at by hundreds of the jealous, who had been decided unworthy
the distinction, and were now amusing themselves with the _very
enviable honour_ which the _great white medicine-man_ had conferred,
_especially_ on _them_, and was now to confer equally upon the _squaws_!

The first reply that I received from those whom I had painted, was,
that if I was to paint women and children, the sooner I destroyed
_their_ pictures, the better; for I had represented to them that I
wanted their pictures to exhibit to white chiefs, to shew who were
the most distinguished and worthy of the Sioux; and their women had
never taken scalps, nor did anything better than make fires and dress
skins. I was quite awkward in this dilemma, in explaining to them
that I wanted the portraits of the women to hang _under_ those of
their husbands, merely to shew how their women _looked_, and how they
_dressed_, without saying any more of them. After some considerable
delay of my operations, and much deliberation on the subject, through
the village, I succeeded in getting a number of women’s portraits, of
which the two above introduced are a couple.

The vanity of these men, after they had agreed to be painted was beyond
all description, and far surpassing that which is oftentimes immodest
enough in civilized society, where the sitter generally leaves the
picture, when it is done to speak for, and to take care of, itself;
while an Indian often lays down, from morning till night, in front of
his portrait, admiring his own beautiful face, and faithfully guarding
it from day to day, to save it from accident or harm.

This _watching_ or _guarding_ their portraits, I have observed during
all of my travels amongst them as a very curious thing; and in many
instances, where my colours were not dry, and subjected to so many
accidents, from the crowds who were gathering about them, I have found
this peculiar guardianship of essential service to me—relieving my mind
oftentimes from a great deal of anxiety.

I was for a long time at a loss for the true cause of so singular
a peculiarity, but at last learned that it was owing to their
superstitious notion, that there may be life to a certain extent in the
picture; and that if harm or violence be done to it, it may in some
mysterious way, affect their health or do them other injury.

After I had been several weeks busily at work with my brush in this
village, and pretty well used to the modes of life in these regions—and
also familiarly acquainted with all the officers and clerks of the
Establishment, it was announced one day, that the steamer which we had
left, was coming in the river below, where all eyes were anxiously
turned, and all ears were listening; when, at length, we discovered the
puffing of her steam; and, at last, heard the thundering of her cannon,
which were firing from her deck.

The excitement and dismay caused amongst 6000 of these wild people,
when the steamer came up in front of their village, was amusing in the
extreme. The steamer was moored at the shore, however; and when Mr.
Chouteau and Major Sanford, their old friend and agent, walked ashore,
it seemed to restore their confidence and courage; and the whole
village gathered in front of the boat, without showing much further
amazement, or even curiosity about it.

The steamer rested a week or two at this place before she started on
her voyage for the head-waters of the Missouri; during which time,
there was much hilarity and mirth indulged in amongst the Indians, as
well as with the hands employed in the service of the Fur Company. The
appearance of a steamer in this wild country was deemed a wonderful
occurrence, and the time of her presence here, looked upon, and used
as a holiday. Some sharp encounters amongst the trappers, who come
in here from the mountains, loaded with packs of furs, with sinews
hardened by long exposure, and seemingly impatient for a _fight_, which
is soon given them by some bullying fisticuff-fellow, who steps forward
and settles the matter in a ring, which is made and strictly preserved
for _fair play_, until hard raps, and bloody noses, and blind eyes
“_settle the hash_,” and satisfy his trappership to lay in bed a week
or two, and then graduate, a sober and a civil man.

Amongst the Indians we have had numerous sights and
amusements to entertain and some to shock us. Shows of
dances—ball-plays—horse-racing—foot-racing, and wrestling in abundance.
Feasting—fasting, and prayers we have also had; and penance and
tortures, and almost every thing short of self-immolation.

Some few days after the steamer had arrived, it was announced that
a grand feast was to be given to the _great white chiefs_, who were
visitors amongst them; and preparations were made accordingly for it.
The two chiefs, Ha-wan-je-tah and Tchan-dee, of whom I have before
spoken, brought their two tents together, forming the two into a
semi-circle (+plate+ 96), enclosing a space sufficiently large to
accommodate 150 men; and sat down with that number of the principal
chiefs and warriors of the Sioux nation; with Mr. Chouteau, Major
Sanford, the Indian agent, Mr. M‘Kenzie, and myself, whom they had
invited in due time, and placed on elevated seats in the centre of the
crescent; while the rest of the company all sat upon the ground, and
mostly cross-legged, preparatory to the feast being dealt out.

In the centre of the semi-circle was erected a flag-staff, on which
was waving a white flag, and to which also was tied the calumet, both
expressive of their friendly feelings towards us. Near the foot of the
flag-staff were placed in a row on the ground, six or eight kettles,
with iron covers on them, shutting them tight, in which were prepared
the viands for our _voluptuous_ feast. Near the kettles, and on the
ground also, bottomside upwards, were a number of wooden bowls, in
which the meat was to be served out. And in front, two or three men,
who were there placed as waiters, to light the pipes for smoking, and
also to deal out the food.

In these positions things stood, and all sat, with thousands climbing
and crowding around, for a peep at the grand pageant; when at length,
Ha-wan-je-tah (the one horn), head chief of the nation, rose in front
of the Indian agent, in a very handsome costume, and addressed him
thus:—“My father, I am glad to see you here to-day—my heart is always
glad to see my father when he comes—our Great Father, who sends him
here is very rich, and we are poor. Our friend Mr. M‘Kenzie, who
is here, we are also glad to see; we know him well, and we shall
be sorry when he is gone. Our friend who is on your right-hand we
all know is very rich; and we have heard that he owns the great
_medicine-canoe_; he is a good man, and a friend to the red men. Our
friend the _White Medicine_, who sits with you, we did not know—he
came amongst us a stranger, and he has made me very well—all the women
know it, and think it very good; he has done many curious things, and
we have all been pleased with him—he has made us much amusement—and we
know he is great medicine.

[Illustration: 98]

“My father, I hope you will have pity on us, we are very poor—we offer
you to-day, not the best that we have got; for we have a plenty of good
buffalo hump and marrow—but we give you our hearts in this feast—we
have killed our faithful dogs to feed you—and the Great Spirit will
seal our friendship. I have no more to say.”

After these words he took off his beautiful war-eagle head-dress—his
shirt and leggings—his necklace of grizzly bears’ claws and his
moccasins; and tying them together, laid them gracefully down at the
feet of the agent as a present; and laying a handsome pipe on top of
them, he walked around into an adjoining lodge, where he got a buffalo
robe to cover his shoulders, and returned to the feast, taking his seat
which he had before occupied.

Major Sanford then rose and made a short speech in reply, thanking
him for the valuable present which he had made him, and for the very
polite and impressive manner in which it had been done; and sent to the
steamer for a quantity of tobacco and other presents, which were given
to him in return. After this, and after several others of the chiefs
had addressed him in a similar manner; and, like the first, disrobed
themselves, and thrown their beautiful costumes at his feet, one of the
three men in front deliberately lit a handsome pipe, and brought it to
Ha-wan-je-tah to smoke. He took it, and after presenting the stem to
the North—to the South—to the East, and the West—and then to the Sun
that was over his head, and pronounced the words “How—how—how!” drew
a whiff or two of smoke through it, and holding the bowl of it in one
hand, and its stem in the other, he then held it to each of our mouths,
as we successively smoked it; after which it was passed around through
the whole group, who all smoked through it, or as far as its contents
lasted, when another of the three waiters was ready with a second, and
at length a third one, in the same way, which lasted through the hands
of the whole number of guests. This smoking was conducted with the
strictest adherence to exact and established form, and the feast the
whole way, to the most positive silence. After the pipe is charged, and
is being lit, until the time that the chief has drawn the smoke through
it, it is considered an evil omen for any one to speak; and if any one
break silence in that time, even in a whisper, the pipe is instantly
dropped by the chief, and their superstition is such, that they would
not dare to use it on this occasion; but another one is called for
and used in its stead. If there is no accident of the kind during the
smoking, the waiters then proceed to distribute the meat, which is soon
devoured in the feast.

In his case the lids were raised from the kettles, which were all
filled with dogs’ meat alone. It being well-cooked, and made into a
sort of a stew, sent forth a very savoury and pleasing smell, promising
to be an acceptable and palatable food. Each of us civilized guests had
a large wooden bowl placed before us, with a huge quantity of dogs’
flesh floating in a profusion of soup, or rich gravy, with a large
spoon resting in the dish, made of the buffalo’s horn. In this most
difficult and painful dilemma we sat; all of us knowing the solemnity
and good feeling in which it was given, and the absolute necessity of
falling to, and devouring a little of it. We all tasted it a few times,
and resigned our dishes, which were quite willingly taken, and passed
around with others, to every part of the group, who all ate heartily of
the _delicious viands_, which were soon dipped out of the kettles, and
entirely devoured; after which each one arose as he felt disposed, and
walked off without uttering a word. In this way the feast ended, and
all retired silently, and gradually, until the ground was left vacant
to the charge of the waiters or officers, who seemed to have charge of
it during the whole occasion.

This feast was unquestionably given to us, as the most undoubted
evidence they could give us of their friendship; and we, who knew
the spirit and feeling in which it was given, could not but treat it
respectfully, and receive it as a very high and marked compliment.

Since I witnessed it on this occasion, I have been honoured with
numerous entertainments of the kind amongst the other tribes, which I
have visited towards the sources of the Missouri, and all conducted in
the same solemn and impressive manner; from which I feel authorized to
pronounce the _dog-feast_ a truly religious ceremony, wherein the poor
Indian sees fit to sacrifice his faithful companion to bear testimony
to the sacredness of his vows of friendship, and invite his friend to
partake of its flesh, to remind him forcibly of the reality of the
sacrifice, and the solemnity of his professions.

The dog, amongst all Indian tribes, is more esteemed and more valued
than amongst any part of the civilized world; the Indian who has more
time to devote to his company, and whose untutored mind more nearly
assimilates to that of his faithful servant, keeps him closer company,
and draws him nearer to his heart; they hunt together, and are equal
sharers in the chase—their bed is one; and on the rocks, and on their
coats of arms they carve his image as the symbol of fidelity. Yet, with
all of these he will end his affection with this faithful follower, and
with tears in his eyes, offer him as a sacrifice to seal the pledge he
has made to man; because a feast of venison, or of buffalo meat, is
what is due to every one who enters an Indian’s wigwam; and of course,
conveys but a passive or neutral evidence, that generally goes for
nothing.

I have sat at many of these feasts, and never could but appreciate
the moral and solemnity of them. I have seen the master take from the
bowl the head of his victim, and descant on its former affection and
fidelity with tears in his eyes. And I have seen guests at the same
time by the side of me, jesting and sneering at the poor Indian’s folly
and stupidity; and I have said in my heart, that they never deserved a
name so good or so honourable as that of the poor animal whose bones
they were picking.

At the feast which I have been above describing, each of us tasted a
little of the meat, and passed the dishes on to the Indians, who soon
demolished everything they contained. We all agreed that the meat was
well cooked, and seemed to be a well-flavoured and palatable food; and
no doubt, could have been eaten with a good relish, if we had been
hungry, and ignorant of the nature of the food we were eating.

The flesh of these dogs, though apparently relished by the Indians,
is, undoubtedly, inferior to the venison and buffalo’s meat, of which
feasts are constantly made where friends are invited, as they are in
civilized society, to a pleasant and convivial party; from which fact
alone, it would seem clear, that they have some extraordinary motive,
at all events, for feasting on the flesh of that useful and faithful
animal; even when, as in the instance I have been describing, their
village is well supplied with fresh and dried meat of the buffalo. The
dog-feast is given, I believe, by all tribes in North America; and
by them all, I think, this faithful animal, as well as the horse, is
sacrificed in several different ways, to appease offended Spirits or
Deities, whom it is considered necessary that they should conciliate in
this way; and when done, is invariably done by giving the best in the
herd or the kennel.




                             LETTER—No. 29.

                MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


Another curious and disgusting scene I witnessed in the after part of
the day on which we were honoured with the dog feast. In this I took no
part, but was sufficiently near to it, when standing some rods off, and
witnessing the cruel operation. I was called upon by one of the clerks
in the Establishment to ride up a mile or so, near the banks of the
Teton River, in a little plain at the base of the bluffs, where were
grouped some fifteen or twenty lodges of the Ting-ta-to-ah band, to see
a man (as they said) “_looking at the sun_!” We found him naked, except
his breech-cloth, with splints or skewers run through the flesh on both
breasts, leaning back and hanging with the weight of his body to the
top of a pole which was fastened in the ground, and to the upper end
of which he was fastened by a cord which was tied to the splints. In
this position he was leaning back, with nearly the whole weight of his
body hanging to the pole, the top of which was bent forward, allowing
his body to sink about half-way to the ground (+plate+ 97). His feet
were still upon the ground, supporting a small part of his weight; and
he held in his left hand his favourite bow, and in his right, with a
desperate grip, his medicine-bag. In this condition, with the blood
trickling down over his body, which was covered with white and yellow
clay, and amidst a great crowd who were looking on, sympathizing with
and encouraging him, he was hanging and “looking at the sun,” without
paying the least attention to any one about him. In the group that was
reclining around him, were several mystery-men beating their drums
and shaking their rattles, and singing as loud as they could yell, to
encourage him and strengthen his heart to stand and look at the sun,
from its rising in the morning ’till its setting at night; at which
time, if his heart and his strength have not failed him, he is “cut
down,” receives the liberal donation of presents (which have been
thrown into a pile before him during the day), and also the name and
the style of a doctor, or _medicine-man_, which lasts him, and ensures
him respect, through life.

This most extraordinary and cruel custom I never heard of amongst any
other tribe, and never saw an instance of it before or after the one I
have just named. It is a sort of worship, or penance, of great cruelty;
disgusting and painful to behold, with only one palliating circumstance
about it, which is, that it is a voluntary torture and of very rare
occurrence. The poor and ignorant, misguided and superstitious man who
undertakes it, puts his everlasting reputation at stake upon the issue;
for when he takes his stand, he expects to face the sun and gradually
turn his body in listless silence, till he sees it go down at night;
and if he faints and falls, of which there is imminent danger, he loses
his reputation as a brave or mystery-man, and suffers a signal disgrace
in the estimation of the tribe, like all men who have the presumption
to set themselves up for braves or mystery-men, and fail justly to
sustain the character.

The Sioux seem to have many modes of worshipping the Great or Good
Spirit, and also of conciliating the Evil Spirit: they have numerous
fasts and feasts, and many modes of sacrificing, but yet they seem
to pay less strict attention to them than the Mandans do, which may
perhaps be owing in a great measure to the wandering and predatory
modes of life which they pursue, rendering it difficult to adhere so
rigidly to the strict form and letter of their customs.

There had been, a few days before I arrived at this place, a great
medicine operation held on the prairie, a mile or so back of the Fort,
and which, of course, I was not lucky enough to see. The poles were
still standing, and the whole transaction was described to me by my
friend Mr. Halsey, one of the clerks in the Establishment. From the
account given of it, it seems to bear some slight resemblance to that
of the _Mandan religious ceremony_, but no nearer to it than a feeble
effort by so ignorant and superstitious a people, to copy a custom
which they most probably have had no opportunity to see themselves, but
have endeavoured to imitate from hearsay. They had an awning of immense
size erected on the prairie which is yet standing, made of willow
bushes supported by posts, with poles and willow boughs laid over;
under the centre of which there was a pole set firmly in the ground,
from which many of the young men had suspended their bodies by splints
run through the flesh in different parts, the numerous scars of which
were yet seen bleeding afresh from day to day, amongst the crowds that
were about me.

During my stay amongst the Sioux, as I was considered by them to
be great _medicine_, I received many pipes and other little things
from them as presents, given to me in token of respect for me, and
as assurances of their friendship; and I, being desirous to collect
and bring from their country every variety of their manufactures, of
their costumes, their weapons, their pipes, and their mystery-things,
purchased a great many others, for which, as I was “medicine” and a
“great white chief!” I was necessarily obliged to pay very _liberal_
prices.

Of the various costumes (of this, as well as of other tribes), that I
have collected, there will be seen fair and faithful representations in
the numerous portraits; and of their war-clubs, pipes, &c. I have set
forth in the following illustrations, a few of the most interesting of
the very great numbers of those things which I have collected in this
and other tribes which I have visited.

The luxury of smoking is known to all the North American Indians,
in their primitive state, and that before they have any knowledge
of tobacco; which is only introduced amongst them by civilized
adventurers, who teach them the use and luxury of whiskey at the same
time.

In their native state they are excessive smokers, and many of them (I
would almost venture the assertion), would seem to be smoking one-half
of their lives. There may be two good reasons for this, the first
of which is, that the idle and leisure life that the Indian leads,
(who has no trade or business to follow—no office hours to attend
to, or profession to learn), induces him to look for occupation and
amusement in so innocent a luxury, which again further tempts him
to its excessive use, from its feeble and harmless effects on the
system. There are many weeds and leaves, and barks of trees, which are
narcotics, and of spontaneous growth in their countries, which the
Indians dry and pulverize, and carry in pouches and smoke to great
excess—and which in several of the languages, when thus prepared, is
called _k’nick k’neck_.

As smoking is a luxury so highly valued by the Indians, they have
bestowed much pains, and not a little ingenuity, to the construction
of their pipes. Of these I have procured a collection of several
hundreds, and in +plate+ 98, have given fac-simile outlines of a number
of the most curious. The bowls of these are generally made of the red
steatite, or “pipe-stone” (as it is more familiarly called in this
country), and many of them designed and carved with much taste and
skill, with figures and groups in _alto relievo_, standing or reclining
upon them.

The red stone of which these pipe bowls are made, is, in my estimation,
a great curiosity; inasmuch as I am sure it is a variety of steatite
(if it be steatite), differing from that of any known European
locality, and also from any locality known in America, other than the
one from which all these pipes come; and which are all traceable I have
found to one source; and that source as yet unvisited except by the
red man who describes it, everywhere, as a place of vast importance to
the Indians—as given to them by the Great Spirit, for their pipes, and
strictly forbidden to be used for anything else.

The source from whence all these pipes come, is, undoubtedly, somewhere
between this place and the Mississippi River; and as the Indians all
speak of it as a great _medicine_-place, I shall certainly lay my
course to it, ere long, and be able to give the world some account of
it and its mysteries.

The Indians shape out the bowls of these pipes from the solid stone,
which is not quite as hard as marble, with nothing but a knife. The
stone which is of a cherry red, admits of a beautiful polish, and the
Indian makes the hole in the bowl of the pipe, by drilling into it a
hard stick, shaped to the desired size, with a quantity of sharp sand
and water kept constantly in the hole, subjecting him therefore to a
very great labour and the necessity of much patience.

[Illustration: 99]

The shafts or stems of these pipes, as will be seen in +plate+ 98, are
from two to four feet long, sometimes round, but most generally flat;
of an inch or two in breadth, and wound half their length or more with
braids of porcupines’ quills; and often ornamented with the beaks and
tufts from the wood-pecker’s head, with ermine skins and long red hair,
dyed from white horse hair or the white buffalo’s tail.

The stems of these pipes will be found to be carved in many ingenious
forms, and in all cases they are perforated through the centre, quite
staggering the wits of the enlightened world to _guess how_ the
holes have been _bored_ through them; until it is simply and briefly
explained, that the stems are uniformly made of the stalk of the young
ash, which generally grows straight, and has a small pith through the
centre, which is easily burned out with a hot wire or a piece of hard
wood, by a much slower process.

In +plate+ 98, the pipes marked _b_ are ordinary pipes, made and used
for the _luxury_ only of smoking; and for this purpose, every Indian
designs and constructs his own pipe. The _calumet_, or pipe of peace
(+plate+ 98 _a_), ornamented with the war-eagle’s quills, is a sacred
pipe, and never allowed to be used on any other occasion than that of
_peace-making_; when the chief brings it into treaty, and unfolding the
many bandages which are carefully kept around it—has it ready to be
mutually smoked by the chiefs, after the terms of the treaty are agreed
upon, as the means of _solemnizing_ or _signing_, by an illiterate
people, who cannot draw up an instrument, and sign their names to it,
as it is done in the civilized world.

The mode of solemnizing is by passing the sacred stem to each chief,
who draws one breath of smoke only through it, thereby passing the most
inviolable pledge that they can possibly give, for the keeping of the
peace. This sacred pipe is then carefully folded up, and stowed away in
the chief’s lodge, until a similar occasion calls it out to be used in
a similar manner.

There is no custom more uniformly in constant use amongst the poor
Indians than that of smoking, nor any other more highly valued. His
pipe is his constant companion through life—his messenger of peace;
he pledges his friends through its stem and its bowl—and when its
care-drowning fumes cease to flow, it takes a place with him in his
solitary grave, with his tomahawk and war-club, companions to his long
fancied, “mild and beautiful hunting-grounds.”

The weapons of these people, like their pipes, are numerous, and mostly
manufactured by themselves. In a former place (+plate+ 18) I have
described a part of these, such as the bows and arrows, lances, &c.,
and they have yet many others, specimens of which I have collected
from every tribe; and a number of which I have grouped together in
+plate+ 99; consisting of knives, war-clubs, and tomahawks. I have
here introduced the most general and established forms that are in
use amongst the different tribes, which are all strictly copied
from amongst the great variety of these articles to be found in my
Collection.

The scalping-knives _a_ and _b_, and tomahawks _e_ _e_ _e_ _e_ are
of civilized manufacture, made expressly for Indian use, and carried
into the Indian country by thousands and tens of thousands, and sold
at an enormous price. The scabbards of the knives and handles for
the tomahawks, the Indians construct themselves, according to their
own taste, and oftentimes ornament them very handsomely. In his rude
and unapproached condition, the Indian is a stranger to such weapons
as these—he works not in the metals; and his untutored mind has not
been ingenious enough to design or execute anything so _savage_ or
destructive as these civilized _refinements on Indian barbarity_. In
his native simplicity he shapes out his rude hatchet from a piece of
stone, as in letter _f_, heads his arrows and spears with flints; and
his knife is a sharpened bone, or the edge of a broken silex. The
war-club _c_ is also another civilized refinement, with a blade of
steel, of eight or ten inches in length, and set in a club, studded
around and ornamented with some hundreds of brass nails.

Their primitive clubs _d_ are curiously carved in wood, and fashioned
out with some considerable picturesque form and grace; are admirably
fitted to the hand, and calculated to deal a deadly blow with the spike
of iron or bone which is imbedded in the ball or bulb at the end.

Two of the tomahawks that I have named, marked _e_, are what are
denominated “pipe-tomahawks,” as the heads of them are formed into
bowls like a pipe, in which their tobacco is put, and they smoke
through the handle. These are the most valued of an Indian’s weapons,
inasmuch as they are a matter of luxury, and useful for cutting his
fire-wood, &c. in time of peace; and deadly weapons in time of war,
which they use in the hand, or throw with unerring and deadly aim.

The scalping-knife _b_ in a beautiful scabbard, which is carried under
the belt, is the form of knife most generally used in all parts of
the Indian country, where knives have been introduced. It is a common
and cheap butcher knife with one edge, manufactured at Sheffield, in
England, perhaps, for sixpence; and sold to the poor Indian in these
wild regions for a horse. If I should live to get home, and should ever
cross the Atlantic with my Collection, a curious enigma would be solved
for the English people, who may enquire for a scalping-knife, when they
find that every one in my Collection (and hear also, that nearly every
one that is to be seen in the Indian country, to the Rocky Mountains
and the Pacific Ocean) bears on its blade the impress of G.R., which
they will doubtless understand.

The huge two-edged knife, with its scabbard of a part of the skin of a
grizzly bear’s head, letter _a_, is one belonging to the famous chief
of the Mandans, of whom I have before said much. The manufacture of
this knife is undoubtedly American; and its shape differs altogether
from those which are in general use.[12]

[Illustration: 100]

The above weapons, as well as the bow and lance, of which I have before
spoken, are all carried and used on horseback with great effect. The
Indians in this country of green fields, all _ride_ for their enemies,
and also for their game, which is almost invariably killed whilst
their horses are at full-speed. They are all cruel masters for their
horses; and in war or the chase goad them on with a heavy and cruel
whip (+plate+ 99 _g_), the handle of which is generally made of a large
prong of the elk’s horn or of wood, and the lashes of rawhide are very
heavy; being braided, or twisted, or cut into wide straps. These are
invariably attached to the wrist of the right arm by a tough thong, so
that they can be taken up and used at any moment, and dropped the next,
without being lost.

During the time that I was engaged in painting my portraits, I was
occasionally inducing the young men to give me their dances, a great
variety of which they gave me by being slightly paid; which I was glad
to do, in order to enable me to study their character and expression
thoroughly, which I am sure I have done; and I shall take pleasure in
shewing them to the world when I get back. The dancing is generally
done by the young men, and considered undignified for the chiefs or
doctors to join in. Yet so great was my _medicine_, that chiefs and
medicine-men turned out and agreed to compliment me with a dance
(+plate+ 100). I looked on with great satisfaction; having been assured
by the Interpreters and Traders, that this was the highest honour they
had ever known them to pay to any stranger amongst them.

In this dance, which I have called “the dance of the chiefs,” for want
of a more significant title, was given by fifteen or twenty chiefs and
doctors; many of whom were very old and venerable men. All of them came
out in their head-dresses of war-eagle quills, with a spear or staff in
the left hand, and a rattle in the right. It was given in the midst of
the Sioux village, in front of the head chief’s lodge; and beside the
medicine-man who beat on the drum, and sang for the dance, there were
four young women standing in a row, and chanting a sort of chorus for
the dancers; forming one of the very few instances that I ever have
met, where the women are allowed to take any part in the dancing, or
other game or amusement, with the men.

This dance was a very spirited thing, and pleased me much, as well as
all the village, who were assembled around to witness what most of them
never before had seen, their aged and venerable chiefs united in giving
a dance.

As I have introduced the _scalping-knife_ above, it may be well for
me to give some further account in this place of the custom and the
mode of taking the scalp; a custom practiced by all the North American
Indians, which is done when an enemy is killed in battle, by grasping
the left hand into the hair on the crown of the head, and passing the
knife around it through the skin, tearing off a piece of the skin with
the hair, as large as the palm of the hand, or larger, which is dried,
and often curiously ornamented and preserved, and highly valued as a
trophy. The scalping is an operation not calculated of itself to take
life, as it only removes the skin, without injuring the bone of the
head; and necessarily, to be a genuine scalp, must contain and show the
crown or centre of the head; that part of the skin which lies directly
over what the phrenologists call “self-esteem,” where the hair divides
and radiates from the centre; of which they all profess to be strict
judges, and able to decide whether an effort has been made to produce
two or more scalps from one head. Besides taking the scalp, the victor
generally, if he has time to do it without endangering his own scalp,
cuts off and brings home the rest of the hair, which his wife will
divide into a great many small locks, and with them fringe off the
seams of his shirt and his leggings, as will have been seen in many of
the illustrations; which also are worn as trophies and ornaments to the
dress, and then are familiarly called “_scalp-locks_.” Of these there
are many dresses in my Collection, which exhibit a continuous row from
the top of each shoulder, down the arms to the wrists, and down the
seams of the leggings, from the hips to the feet, rendering them a very
costly article to buy from the Indian who is not sure that his success
in his military exploits will ever enable him to replace them.

The scalp, then, is a patch of the skin taken from the head of an enemy
killed in battle, and preserved and highly appreciated as the record of
a death produced by the hand of the individual who possesses it; and
may oftentimes during his life, be of great service to a man living
in a community where there is no historian to enrol the names of the
famous—to record the heroic deeds of the brave, who have gained their
laurels in mortal combat with their enemies; where it is as lawful
and as glorious to slay an enemy in battle, as it is in Christian
communities, and where the poor Indian is bound to keep the record
himself, or be liable to lose it and the honour, for no one in the
tribe will keep it for him. As the scalp is taken then as the evidence
of a death, it will easily be seen, that the Indian has no business or
inclination to take it from the head of the living; which I venture to
say is never done in North America, unless it be, as it sometimes has
happened, where a man falls in the heat of battle, stunned with the
blow of a weapon or a gunshot, and the Indian, rushing over his body,
snatches off his scalp, supposing him dead, who afterwards rises from
the field of battle, and easily recovers from this superficial wound
of the knife, wearing a bald spot on his head during the remainder
of his life, of which we have frequent occurrences on our Western
frontiers. The scalp must be from the head of _an enemy_ also, or it
subjects its possessor to disgrace and infamy who carries it. There
may be many instances where an Indian is justified in the estimation
of his tribe in taking the life of one of his own people; and their
laws are such, as oftentimes make it his imperative duty; and yet no
circumstances, however aggravating, will justify him or release him
from the disgrace of taking the scalp.

[Illustration: 101]

There is no custom practised by the Indians, for which they are
more universally condemned, than that of taking the scalp; and, at
the same time, I think there is some excuse for them, inasmuch as
it is a general custom of the country, and founded, like many other
apparently absurd and ridiculous customs of these people, in one of
the necessities of Indian life, which necessities we are free from in
the civilized world, and which customs, of course, we need not and do
not practice. From an ancient custom, “time out of mind,” the warriors
of these tribes have been in the habit of going to war, expecting to
take the scalps of their enemies whom they may slay in battle, and all
eyes of the tribe are upon them, making it their duty to do it; so from
custom it is every man’s right, and his duty also, to continue and keep
up a regulation of his society, which it is not in his power as an
individual, to abolish or correct, if he saw fit to do it.

One of the principal denunciations against the custom of taking the
scalp, is on account of its alleged _cruelty_, which it certainly has
not; as the cruelty would be in the _killing_, and not in the act of
cutting the skin from a man’s head after he is dead. To say the most of
it, it is a disgusting custom, and I wish I could be quite sure that
the civilized and Christian world (who kill hundreds, to where the poor
Indians kill one), do not often treat their _enemies dead_, in equally
as indecent and disgusting a manner, as the Indian does by taking the
scalp.

If the reader thinks that I am taking too much pains to defend the
Indians for this, and others of their seemingly abominable customs,
he will bear it in mind, that I have lived with these people, until I
have learned the necessities of Indian life in which these customs are
founded; and also, that I have met with so many acts of kindness and
hospitality at the hands of the poor Indian, that I feel bound, when I
can do it, to render what excuse I can for a people, who are dying with
broken hearts, and never can speak in the civilized world in their own
defence.

And even yet, reader, if your education, and your reading of Indian
cruelties and Indian barbarities—of scalps, and scalping-knives, and
scalping, should have ossified a corner of your heart against these
unfortunate people, and would shut out their advocate, I will annoy
you no longer on this subject, but withdraw, and leave you to cherish
the very beautiful, humane and parental moral that was carried out by
the United States and British Governments during the last, and the
revolutionary wars, when they mutually employed thousands of their
“_Red children_,” to aid and to bleed, in fighting their battles, and
paid them, according to contract, so many pounds, shillings and pence
or so many dollars and cents for every “_scalp_” of a “red” or a “blue
coat” they could bring in!

In +plate+ 101, there will be seen the principal modes in which the
scalps are prepared, and several of the uses to which they are put.
The most usual way of preparing and dressing the scalp is that of
stretching it on a little hoop at the end of a stick two or three feet
long (letter _a_), for the purpose of “dancing it,” as they term it;
which will be described in the _scalp-dance_, in a few moments. There
are many again, which are small, and not “dressed;” sometimes not
larger than a crown piece (letter _c_), and hung to different parts of
the dress. In public shows and parades, they are often suspended from
the bridle bits or halter when they are paraded and carried as trophies
(letter _b_). Sometimes they are cut out, as it were into a string,
the hair forming a beautiful fringe to line the handle of a war-club
(letter _e_). Sometimes they are hung at the _end_ of a club (_letter
d_), and at other times, by the order of the chief, are hung out, over
the wigwams, suspended from a pole, which is called the “_scalp-pole_.”
This is often done by the chief of a village, in a pleasant day, by his
erecting over his wigwam a pole with all the scalps that he had taken,
arranged upon it (letter _f_); at the sight of which all the chiefs and
warriors of the tribe, who had taken scalps, “follow suit;” enabling
every member of the community to stroll about the village on that day
and “count scalps,” learning thereby the standing of every warrior,
which is decided in a great degree by the number of scalps they have
taken in battles with their enemies. Letters _g_, _g_, shew the usual
manner of taking the scalp, and (letter _h_), exhibits the head of a
man who had been scalped and recovered from the wound.

So much for scalps and scalping, of which I shall yet say more, unless
I should unluckily _lose one_ before I get out of the country.

[Illustration: 101½]

  [12] This celebrated knife is now in my +Indian Museum+, and
  there is no doubt, from its authentic history, that it has been
  several times plunged to the hearts of his enemies by the hand
  of Mah-to-toh-pa, who wielded it. Several years after I left
  that country, and one year after the destruction of the Mandans,
  I received the following letter from Mr. M‘Kenzie, accompanying
  the knife and other things sent to me by him from that country:
  +Extract+—“The poor Mandans are gone, and amongst them your old
  friend, Mah-to-toh-pa. I have been able to send you but a very few
  things, as the Riccarees immediately took possession of everything
  they had. Amongst the articles I have been able to procure, I send
  you the war-knife of Mah-to-toh-pa, which is now looked upon as the
  greatest _medicine_ in this country; and as you will recollect it,
  it will be highly appreciated by you.”




                             LETTER—No. 30.

                MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


In the last letter I gave an account of many of the weapons and
other manufactures of these wild folks; and as this has been a day
of _packing_ and _casing_ a great many of these things, which I have
obtained of the Indians, to add to my _Musée Indienne_, I will name a
few more, which I have just been handling over; some description of
which may be necessary for the reader in endeavouring to appreciate
some of their strange customs and amusements, which I am soon to
unfold. In +plate+ 101½, letters _a_ and _b_, will be seen the _quiver_
made of the fawn’s skin, and the Sioux _shield_ made of the skin of
the buffalo’s neck, hardened with the glue extracted from the hoofs
and joints of the same animal. The process of “_smoking the shield_”
is a very curious, as well as an important one, in their estimation.
For this purpose a young man about to construct him a shield, digs a
hole of two feet in depth, in the ground, and as large in diameter
as he designs to make his shield. In this he builds a fire, and over
it, a few inches higher than the ground, he stretches the raw hide
horizontally over the fire, with little pegs driven through holes made
near the edges of the skin. This skin is at first, twice as large as
the size of the required shield; but having got his particular and
best friends (who are invited on the occasion,) into a ring, to dance
and sing around it, and solicit the Great Spirit to instil into it the
power to protect him harmless against his enemies, he spreads over
it the glue, which is rubbed and dried in, as the skin is heated;
and a second busily drives other and other pegs, inside of those in
the ground, as they are gradually giving way and being pulled up
by the contraction of the skin. By this curious process, which is
most dexterously done, the skin is kept tight whilst it contracts to
one-half of its size, taking up the glue and increasing in thickness
until it is rendered as thick and hard as required (and his friends
have pleaded long enough to make it arrow, and almost ball proof), when
the dance ceases, and the fire is put out. When it is cooled and cut
into the shape that he desires, it is often painted with his _medicine_
or _totem_ upon it, the figure of an eagle, an owl, a buffalo or other
animal, as the case may be, which he trusts will guard and protect him
from harm; it is then fringed with eagles’ quills, or other ornaments
he may have chosen, and _slung_ with a broad leather strap that crosses
his breast. These shields are carried by all the warriors in these
regions, for their protection in battles, which are almost invariably
fought from their horses’ backs.

Of _pipes_, and the custom of smoking, I have already spoken; and I
then said, that the Indians use several substitutes for tobacco, which
they call _K’nick K’neck_. For the carrying of this delicious weed or
bark, and preserving its flavour, the women construct very curious
pouches of otter, or beaver, or other skins (letters _c_, _c_, _c_,),
which are ingeniously ornamented with porcupine quills and beads, and
generally carried hanging across the left arm, containing a quantity of
the precious _narcotic_, with flint and steel, and spunk, for lighting
the pipe.

The _musical instruments_ used amongst these people are few, and
exceedingly rude and imperfect, consisting chiefly of rattles, drums,
whistles, and lutes, all of which are used in the different tribes.

In +plate+ 101½ (letters _d_, _d_,) will be seen the _rattles_ (or
She-she-quois) most generally used, made of rawhide, which becomes
very hard when dry, and charged with pebbles or something of the
kind, which produce a shrill noise to mark the time in their dances
and songs. Their _drums_ (letters _e_, _e_,) are made in a very rude
manner, oftentimes with a mere piece of rawhide stretched over a hoop,
very much in the shape of a tambourin; and at other times are made in
the form of a keg, with a head of rawhide at each end; on these they
beat with a drum-stick, which oftentimes itself is a rattle, the bulb
or head of it being made of rawhide and filled with pebbles. In other
instances the stick has, at its end, a little hoop wound and covered
with buckskin, to soften the sound; with which they beat on the drum
with great violence, as the chief and _heel-inspiring_ sound for all
their dances, and also as an accompaniment for their numerous and
never-ending songs of amusement, of thanksgiving, and _medicine_ or
_metai_. The _mystery whistle_, (letter _f_,) is another instrument of
their invention, and very ingeniously made, the sound being produced
on a principle entirely different from that of any wind instrument
known in civilized inventions; and the notes produced on it, by the
sleight or trick of an Indian boy, in so simple and successful a
manner, as to baffle entirely all civilized ingenuity, even when it
is seen to be played. An Indian boy would stand and blow his notes on
this repeatedly, for hundreds of white men who might be lookers-on, not
one of whom could make the least noise on it, even by practising with
it for hours. When I first saw this curious exhibition, I was charmed
with the peculiar sweetness of its harmonic sounds, and completely
perplexed, (as hundreds of white men have no doubt been before me, to
the great amusement and satisfaction of the women and children,) as to
the mode in which the sound was produced, even though it was repeatedly
played immediately before my eyes, and handed to me for my vain and
amusing endeavours. The sounds of this little simple toy are liquid and
sweet beyond description; and, though here only given in harmonics,
I am inclined to think, might, by some ingenious musician or musical
instrument-maker, be modulated and converted into something very
pleasing.

The _War-whistle_ (letter _h_,) is a well known and valued little
instrument, of six or nine inches in length, invariably made of
the bone of the deer or turkey’s leg, and generally ornamented with
porcupine quills of different colours which are wound around it. A
chief or leader carries this to battle with him, suspended generally
from his neck, and worn under his dress. This little instrument has
but two notes, which are produced by blowing in the ends of it. The
note produced in one end, being much more shrill than the other, gives
the signal for battle, whilst the other sounds a retreat; a thing that
is distinctly heard and understood by every man, even in the heat and
noise of battle, where all are barking and yelling as loud as possible,
and of course unable to hear the commands of their leader.

[Illustration: 102]

There is yet another wind instrument which I have added to my
Collection, and from its appearance would seem to have been borrowed,
in part, from the civilized world (letter _g_). This is what is often
on the frontier called a “_deer-skin flute_,” a “Winnebago courting
flute,” a “tsal-eet-quash-to,” &c.; it is perforated with holes for the
fingers, sometimes for six, at others for four, and in some instances
for three only, having only so many notes with their octaves. These
notes are very irregularly graduated, showing clearly that they have
very little taste or ear for melody. These instruments are blown in the
end, and the sound produced much on the principle of a whistle.

In the vicinity of the Upper Mississippi, I often and familiarly heard
this instrument, called the Winnebago courting flute; and was credibly
informed by traders and others in those regions, that the young men
of that tribe meet with signal success, oftentimes, in wooing their
sweethearts with its simple notes, which they blow for hours together,
and from day to day, from the bank of some stream—some favourite rock
or log on which they are seated, near to the wigwam which contains the
object of their tender passion; until her soul is touched, and she
responds by some welcome signal, that she is ready to repay the young
_Orpheus_ for his pains, with the gift of her hand and her heart. How
true these representations may have been made, I cannot say, but there
certainly must have been some ground for the present cognomen by which
it is known in that country.

From these rude and exceedingly defective instruments, it will at once
be seen, that music has made but little progress with these people; and
the same fact will be still more clearly proved, to those who have an
opportunity to hear their vocal exhibitions, which are daily and almost
hourly serenading the ears of the traveller through their country.

Dancing is one of the principal and most frequent amusements of all
the tribes of Indians in America; and, in all of these, both vocal and
instrumental music are introduced. These dances consist in about four
different steps, which constitute all the different varieties: but the
figures and forms of these scenes are very numerous, and produced by
the most violent jumps and contortions, accompanied with the song and
beats of the drum, which are given in exact time with their motions.
It has been said by some travellers, that the Indian has neither
harmony or melody in his music, but I am unwilling to subscribe to such
an assertion; although I grant, that for the most part of their vocal
exercises, there is a total absence of what the musical world would
call melody; their songs being made up chiefly of a sort of violent
chaunt of harsh and jarring gutturals, of yelps and barks, and screams,
which are given out in perfect time, not only with “method (but with
harmony) in their madness.” There are times too, as every traveller
of the Indian country will attest, if he will recall them to his
recollection, when the Indian lays down by his fire-side with his drum
in his hand, which he lightly and almost imperceptibly touches over, as
he accompanies it with his stifled voice of dulcet sounds that might
come from the most tender and delicate female.

These quiet and tender songs are very different from those which are
sung at their dances, in full chorus and violent gesticulation; and
many of them seem to be quite rich in plaintive expression and melody,
though barren of change and variety.

_Dancing_, I have before said, is one of the principal and most valued
amusements of the Indians, and much more frequently practised by them
than by any civilized society; inasmuch as it enters into their forms
of worship, and is often their mode of appealing to the Great Spirit—of
paying their usual devotions to their _medicine_—and of honouring and
entertaining strangers of distinction in their country.

Instead of the “giddy maze” of the quadrille or the country dance,
enlivened by the cheering smiles and graces of silkened beauty, the
Indian performs his rounds with jumps, and starts, and yells, much to
the satisfaction of his own exclusive self, and infinite amusement
of the gentler sex, who are always lookers on, but seldom allowed so
great a pleasure, or so signal an honour, as that of joining with
their lords in this or any other entertainment. Whilst staying with
these people on my way up the river, I was repeatedly honoured with
the dance, and I as often hired them to give them, or went to overlook
where they were performing them at their own pleasure, in pursuance
of their peculiar customs, or for their own amusement, that I might
study and correctly herald them to future ages. I saw so many of their
different varieties of dances amongst the Sioux, that I should almost
be disposed to denominate them the “_dancing Indians_.” It would
actually seem as if they had dances for every thing. And in so large a
village, there was scarcely an hour in any day or night, but what the
beat of the drum could somewhere be heard. These dances are almost as
various and different in their character as they are numerous—some of
them so exceedingly grotesque and laughable, as to keep the bystanders
in an irresistible roar of laughter—others are calculated to excite his
pity, and forcibly appeal to his sympathies, whilst others disgust,
and yet others terrify and alarm him with their frightful threats and
contortions.

All the world have heard of the “_bear-dance_,” though I doubt whether
more than a very small proportion have ever seen it; here it is (+plate+
102). The Sioux, like all the others of these western tribes, are
fond of bear’s meat, and must have good stores of the “bear’s-grease”
laid in, to oil their long and glossy locks, as well as the surface of
their bodies. And they all like the fine pleasure of a bear hunt, and
also a participation in the bear dance, which is given several days
in succession, previous to their starting out, and in which they all
join in a song to the _Bear Spirit_; which they think holds somewhere
an invisible existence, and must be consulted and conciliated before
they can enter upon their excursion with any prospect of success. For
this grotesque and amusing scene, one of the chief medicine-men, placed
over his body the entire skin of a bear, with a war-eagle’s quill on
his head, taking the lead in the dance, and looking through the skin
which formed a masque that hung over his face. Many others in the dance
wore masques on their faces, made of the skin from the bear’s head; and
all, with the motions of their hands, closely imitated the movements
of that animal; some representing its motion in running, and others
the peculiar attitude and hanging of the paws, when it is sitting up
on its hind feet, and looking out for the approach of an enemy. This
grotesque and amusing masquerade oftentimes is continued at intervals,
for several days previous to the starting of a party on the bear hunt,
who would scarcely count upon a tolerable prospect of success, without
a strict adherence to this most important and indispensible form!

[Illustration: 103]

Dancing is done here too, as it is oftentimes done in the enlightened
world, to get favours—to buy the world’s goods; and in both countries
danced with about equal merit, except that the Indian has surpassed
us in honesty by christening it in his own country, the “_beggar’s
dance_.” This spirited dance (+plate+ 103), was given, not by a set
of _beggars_ though, literally speaking, but by the first and most
independent young men in the tribe, beautifully dressed, (_i. e._ not
dressed at all, except with their breech clouts or _kelts_, made of
eagles’ and ravens’ quills,) with their lances, and pipes, and rattles
in their hands, and a medicine-man beating the drum, and joining in the
song at the highest key of his voice. In this dance every one sings as
loud as he can halloo; uniting his voice with the others, in an appeal
to the Great Spirit, to open the hearts of the bystanders to give to
the poor, and not to themselves; assuring them that the Great Spirit
will be kind to those who are kind to the helpless and poor.

Of _scalps_, and of the modes and objects of scalping, I have before
spoken; and I therein stated, “that most of the scalps were stretched
on little hoops for the purpose of being used in the scalp-dance, of
which I shall say more at a future time.”

The _Scalp-dance_ (+plate+ 104) is given as a celebration of a victory;
and amongst this tribe, as I learned whilst residing with them, danced
in the night, by the light of their torches, and just before retiring
to bed. When a war party returns from a war excursion, bringing home
with them the scalps of their enemies, they generally “dance them” for
fifteen nights in succession, vaunting forth the most extravagant
boasts of their wonderful prowess in war, whilst they brandish their
war weapons in their hands. A number of young women are selected to
aid (though they do not actually join in the dance), by stepping into
the centre of the ring, and holding up the scalps that have been
recently taken, whilst the warriors dance (or rather _jump_), around
in a circle, brandishing their weapons, and barking and yelping in
the most frightful manner, all jumping on both feet at a time, with a
simultaneous stamp, and blow, and thrust of their weapons; with which
it would seem as if they were actually cutting and carving each other
to pieces. During these frantic leaps, and yelps, and thrusts, every
man distorts his face to the utmost of his muscles, darting about his
glaring eye-balls and snapping his teeth, as if he were in the heat
(and actually breathing through his inflated nostrils the very hissing
death) of battle! No description that can be written, could ever convey
more than a feeble outline of the frightful effects of these scenes
enacted in the dead and darkness of night, under the glaring light of
their blazing flambeaux; nor could all the years allotted to mortal
man, in the least obliterate or deface the vivid impress that one scene
of this kind would leave upon his memory.

The precise object for which the scalp is taken, is one which is
definitely understood, and has already been explained; but the motive
(or motives) for which this strict ceremony is so scrupulously held
by all the American tribes, over the scalp of an enemy, is a subject,
as yet not satisfactorily settled in my mind. There is no doubt, but
one great object in these exhibitions is public exultation; yet there
are several conclusive evidences, that there are other and essential
motives for thus formally and strictly displaying the scalp. Amongst
some of the tribes, it is the custom to bury the scalps after they
have gone through this series of public exhibitions; which may in a
measure have been held for the purpose of giving them notoriety, and
of awarding public credit to the persons who obtained them, and now,
from a custom of the tribe, are obliged to part with them. The great
respect which seems to be paid to them whilst they use them, as well as
the pitying and mournful song which they howl to the _manes_ of their
unfortunate victims; as well as the precise care and solemnity with
which they afterwards bury the scalps, sufficiently convince me that
they have a superstitious dread of the spirits of their slain enemies,
and many conciliatory offices to perform, to ensure their own peace;
one of which is the ceremony above described.

[Illustration: 104]




                             LETTER—No. 31.

                MOUTH OF TETON RIVER, _UPPER MISSOURI_.


In former Letters I have given some account of the _Bisons_, or (as
they are more familiarly denominated in this country) _Buffaloes_,
which inhabit these regions in numerous herds; and of which I must say
yet a little more.

These noble animals of the ox species, and which have been so well
described in our books on Natural History, are a subject of curious
interest and great importance in this vast wilderness; rendered
peculiarly so at this time, like the history of the poor savage; and
from the same consideration, that they are rapidly wasting away at the
approach of civilized man—and like him and his character, in a very few
years, to live only in books or on canvass.

The word buffalo is undoubtedly most incorrectly applied to these
animals, and I can scarcely tell why they have been so called; for
they bear just about as much resemblance to the Eastern buffalo, as
they do to a zebra or to a common ox. How nearly they may approach to
the bison of Europe, which I never have had an opportunity to see, and
which, I am inclined to think, is now nearly extinct, I am unable to
say; yet if I were to judge from the numerous engravings I have seen
of those animals, and descriptions I have read of them, I should be
inclined to think, there was yet a wide difference between the bison
of the American prairies, and those in the North of Europe and Asia.
The American bison, or (as I shall hereafter call it) buffalo, is
the largest of the ruminating animals that is now living in America;
and seems to have been spread over the plains of this vast country,
by the Great Spirit, for the use and subsistence of the red men, who
live almost exclusively on their flesh, and clothe themselves with
their skins. The reader, by referring back to +plates+ 7 and 8, in the
beginning of this Work, will see faithful traces of the male and female
of this huge animal, in their proud and free state of nature, grazing
on the plains of the country to which they appropriately belong. Their
colour is a dark brown, but changing very much as the season varies
from warm to cold; their hair or fur, from its great length in the
winter and spring, and exposure to the weather, turning quite light,
and almost to a jet black, when the winter coat is shed off, and a new
growth is shooting out.

The buffalo bull often grows to the enormous weight of 2000 pounds, and
shakes a long and shaggy black mane, that falls in great profusion and
_confusion_, over his head and shoulders; and oftentimes falling down
quite to the ground. The horns are short, but very large, and have but
one turn, _i. e._ they are a simple arch, without the least approach to
a spiral form, like those of the common ox, or of the goat species.

The female is much smaller than the male, and always distinguishable
by the peculiar shape of the horns, which are much smaller and more
crooked, turning their points more in towards the centre of the
forehead.

One of the most remarkable characteristics of the buffalo, is the
peculiar formation and expression of the eye, the ball of which is
very large and white, and the iris jet black. The lids of the eye seem
always to be strained quite open, and the ball rolling forward and
down; so that a considerable part of the iris is hidden behind the
lower lid, while the pure white of the eyeball glares out over it in an
arch, in the shape of a moon at the end of its first quarter.

These animals are, truly speaking, gregarious, but not migratory—they
graze in immense and almost incredible numbers at times, and roam about
and over vast tracts of country, from East to West, and from West to
East, as often as from North to South; which has often been supposed
they naturally and habitually did to accommodate themselves to the
temperature of the climate in the different latitudes. The limits
within which they are found in America, are from the 30th to the 55th
degrees of North latitude; and their extent from East to West, which is
from the border of our extreme Western frontier limits, to the Western
verge of the Rocky Mountains, is defined by quite different causes,
than those which the degrees of temperature have prescribed to them
on the North and the South. Within these 25 degrees of latitude, the
buffaloes seem to flourish, and get their living without the necessity
of evading the rigour of the climate, for which Nature seems most
wisely to have prepared them by the greater or less profusion of fur,
with which she has clothed them.

It is very evident that, as high North as Lake Winnepeg, seven or eight
hundred miles North of this, the buffalo subsists itself through the
severest winters; getting its food chiefly by browsing amongst the
timber, and by pawing through the snow, for a bite at the grass, which
in those regions is frozen up very suddenly in the beginning of the
winter, with all its juices in it, and consequently furnishes very
nutritious and efficient food; and often, if not generally, supporting
the animal in better flesh during these difficult seasons of their
lives, than they are found to be in, in the 30th degree of latitude,
upon the borders of Mexico, where the severity of winter is not known,
but during a long and tedious autumn, the herbage, under the influence
of a burning sun, is gradually dried away to a mere husk, and its
nutriment gone, leaving these poor creatures, even in the dead of
winter, to bask in the warmth of a genial sun, without the benefit of a
green or juicy thing to bite at.

The place from which I am now writing, may be said to be the very heart
or nucleus of the buffalo country, about equi-distant between the two
extremes; and of course, the most congenial temperature for them to
flourish in. The finest animals that graze on the prairies are to be
found in this latitude; and I am sure I never could send from a better
source, some further account of the death and destruction that is dealt
among these noble animals, and hurrying on their final extinction.

The Sioux are a bold and desperate set of horsemen, and great hunters;
and in the heart of their country is one of the most extensive
assortments of goods, of whiskey, and other saleable commodities, as
well as a party of the most indefatigable men, who are constantly
calling for every robe that can be stripped from these animals’ backs.

These are the causes which lead so directly to their rapid destruction;
and which open to the view of the traveller so freshly, so vividly, and
so familiarly, the scenes of archery—of lancing, and of death-dealing,
that belong peculiarly to this wild and shorn country.

The almost countless herds of these animals that are sometimes met with
on these prairies, have been often spoken of by other writers, and may
yet be seen by any traveller who will take the pains to visit these
regions. The “_running season_,” which is in August and September,
is the time when they congregate into such masses in some places, as
literally to blacken the prairies for miles together. It is no uncommon
thing at this season, at these gatherings, to see several thousands
in a mass, eddying and wheeling about under a cloud of dust, which
is raised by the bulls as they are pawing in the dirt, or engaged in
desperate combats, as they constantly are, plunging and butting at each
other in the most furious manner (+plate+ 105). In these scenes, the
males are continually following the females, and the whole mass are in
constant motion; and all bellowing (or “roaring”) in deep and hollow
sounds; which, mingled altogether, appear, at the distance of a mile or
two, like the sound of distant thunder.

During the season whilst they are congregated together in these dense
and confused masses, the remainder of the country around for many
miles, becomes entirely vacated; and the traveller may spend many a
toilsome day, and many a hungry night, without being cheered by the
sight of one; where, if he retraces his steps a few weeks after, he
will find them dispersed, and grazing quietly in little families and
flocks, and equally stocking the whole country. Of these quiet little
herds, a fair representation will be seen in +plate+ 106, where some
are grazing, others at play, or lying down, and others indulging in
their “wallows.” “A bull in his wallow” is a frequent saying in this
country; and has a very significant meaning with those who have ever
seen a buffalo bull performing _ablution_, or rather endeavouring to
cool his heated sides, by tumbling about in a mud puddle.

In the heat of summer, these huge animals, which, no doubt, suffer very
much with the great profusion of their long and shaggy hair or fur,
often graze on the low grounds in the prairies, where there is a little
stagnant water lying amongst the grass, and the ground underneath
being saturated with it, is soft, into which the enormous bull, lowered
down upon one knee, will plunge his horns, and at last his head,
driving up the earth, and soon making an excavation in the ground, into
which the water filters from amongst the grass, forming for him in a
few moments, a cool and comfortable bath, into which he plunges like a
hog in his mire.

In this _delectable_ laver, he throws himself flat upon his side, and
forcing himself violently around, with his horns and his huge hump
on his shoulders presented to the sides, he ploughs up the ground by
his rotary motion, sinking himself deeper and deeper in the ground,
continually enlarging his pool, in which he at length becomes nearly
immersed; and the water and mud about him mixed into a complete mortar,
which changes his colour, and drips in streams from every part of him
as he rises up upon his feet, a hideous monster of mud and ugliness,
too frightful and too eccentric to be described!

It is generally the leader of the herd that takes upon him to make
this excavation; and if not (but another one opens the ground), the
leader (who is conqueror) marches forward, and driving the other from
it plunges himself into it; and having cooled his sides, and changed
his colour to a walking mass of mud and mortar; he stands in the pool
until inclination induces him to step out, and give place to the next
in command, who stands ready; and another, and another, who advance
forward in their turns, to enjoy the luxury of the wallow; until the
whole band (sometimes an hundred or more) will pass through it in turn;
each one throwing his body around in a similar manner; and each one
adding a little to the dimensions of the pool, while he carries away in
his hair an equal share of the clay, which dries to a grey or whitish
colour, and gradually falls off. By this operation, which is done,
perhaps, in the space of half an hour, a circular excavation of fifteen
or twenty feet in diameter, and two feet in depth, is completed, and
left for the water to run into, which soon fills it to the level of the
ground.

To these sinks, the waters lying on the surface of the prairies, are
continually draining, and in them lodging their vegetable deposits;
which, after a lapse of years, fill them up to the surface with a rich
soil, which throws up an unusual growth of grass and herbage; forming
conspicuous circles which arrest the eye of the traveller, and are
calculated to excite his surprise for ages to come.

Many travellers who have penetrated not quite far enough into the
Western country to see the habits of these animals, and the manner
in which these _mysterious_ circles are made; but who have seen the
prairies strewed with their bleached bones, and have beheld these
strange circles, which often occur in groups, and of different
sizes—have come home with beautiful and ingenious theories (which _must
needs be made_), for the origin of these singular and unaccountable
appearances, which, for want of a rational theory, have generally
been attributed to _fairy feet_, and gained the appellation of “_fairy
circles_.”

[Illustration: 105]

[Illustration: 106]

Many travellers, again, have supposed that these rings were produced
by the dances of the Indians, which are oftentimes (and in fact
most generally) performed in a circle; yet a moment’s consideration
disproves such a probability, inasmuch as the Indians always select the
ground for their dancing near the sites of their villages, and that
always on a dry and hard foundation; when these “fairy circles” are
uniformly found to be on low and wet ground.

As my visit to these parts of the “_Great Far West_” has brought me
into the heart of the buffalo country, where I have had abundant
opportunities of seeing this noble animal in all its phases—its habits
of life, and every mode of its death; I shall take the liberty of being
yet a little more particular, and of rendering some further accounts of
scenes which I have witnessed in following out my sporting propensities
in these singular regions.

The chief hunting amusement of the Indians in these parts consists in
the chase of the buffalo, which is almost invariably done on horseback,
with bow and lance. In this exercise, which is highly prized by them,
as one of their most valued amusements, as well as for the principal
mode of procuring meat for their subsistence, they become exceedingly
expert; and are able to slay these huge animals with apparent ease.

The Indians in these parts are all mounted on small, but serviceable
horses, which are caught by them on the prairies, where they are often
running wild in numerous bands. The Indian, then, mounted on his little
wild horse, which has been through some years of training, dashes off
at full speed amongst the herds of buffaloes, elks, or even antelopes,
and deals his deadly arrows to their hearts from his horse’s back. The
horse is the fleetest animal of the prairie, and easily brings his
rider alongside of his game, which falls a certain prey to his deadly
shafts, at the distance of a few paces.

In the chase of the buffalo, or other animal, the Indian generally
“strips” himself and his horse, by throwing off his shield and quiver,
and every part of his dress, which might be an encumbrance to him in
running; grasping his bow in his left hand, with five or six arrows
drawn from his quiver, and ready for instant use. In his right hand (or
attached to the wrist) is a heavy whip, which he uses without mercy,
and forces his horse alongside of his game at the swiftest speed.

These horses are so trained, that the Indian has little use for the
rein, which hangs on the neck, whilst the horse approaches the animal
on the right side (+plate+ 107), giving his rider the chance to throw
his arrow to the left; which he does at the instant when the horse
is passing—bringing him opposite to the heart, which receives the
deadly weapon “to the feather.” When pursuing a large herd, the Indian
generally rides close in the rear, until he selects the animal he
wishes to kill, which he separates from the throng as soon as he can,
by dashing his horse between it and the herd, and forcing it off by
itself; where he can approach it without the danger of being trampled
to death, to which he is often liable by too closely escorting the
multitude.

In +plate+ 107, I have fairly represented the mode of _approaching_,
at the instant the arrow is to be thrown; and the striking disparity
between the size of a huge bull of 2000 pounds weight, and the Indian
horse, which, it will be borne in mind, is but a pony.

No bridle whatever is used in this country by the Indians, as they have
no knowledge of a bit. A short halter, however, which answers in place
of a bridle, is in general use; of which they usually form a noose
around the under jaw of the horse, by which they get great power over
the animal; and which they use generally to _stop_ rather than _guide_
the horse. This halter is called by the French Traders in the country,
_l’arrêt_, the stop, and has great power in arresting the speed of a
horse; though it is extremely dangerous to use too freely as a guide,
interfering too much with the freedom of his limbs, for the certainty
of his feet and security of his rider.

When the Indian then has directed the course of his steed to the animal
which he has selected, the training of the horse is such, that it knows
the object of its rider’s selection, and exerts every muscle to give it
close company; while the halter lies loose and untouched upon its neck,
and the rider leans quite forward, and off from the side of his horse,
with his bow drawn, and ready for the deadly shot, which is given
at the instant he is opposite to the animal’s body. The horse being
instinctively afraid of the animal (though he generally brings his
rider within the reach of the end of his bow), keeps his eye strained
upon the furious enemy he is so closely encountering; and the moment
he has approached to the nearest distance required, and has passed the
animal, whether the shot is given or not, he gradually sheers off, to
prevent coming on to the horns of the infuriated beast, which often
are instantly turned, and presented for the fatal reception of its
too familiar attendant. These frightful collisions often take place,
notwithstanding the sagacity of the horse, and the caution of its
rider; for in these extraordinary (and inexpressible) exhilarations of
chase, which seem to drown the prudence alike, of instinct and reason,
both horse and rider often seem rushing on to destruction, as if it
were mere pastime and amusement.[13]

I have always counted myself a prudent man, yet I have often _waked_
(as it were) out of the delirium of the chase (into which I had fallen,
as into an agitated sleep, and through which I had passed as through
a delightful dream), where to have died would have been but to have
remained, riding on, without a struggle or a pang.

In some of these, too, I have arisen from the prairie, covered with
dirt and blood, having severed company with gun and horse, the one
lying some twenty or thirty feet from me with a broken stalk, and the
other coolly brousing on the grass at half a mile distance, without
man, and without other beast remaining in sight.

[Illustration: 107]

[Illustration: 108]

For the novice in these scenes there is much danger of his limbs and
his life, and he finds it a hard and a desperate struggle that brings
him in at _the death_ of these huge monsters, except where it has been
produced by hands that have acquired more sleight and tact than his own.

With the Indian, who has made this the every day sport and amusement of
his life, there is less difficulty and less danger; he rides without
“losing his breath,” and his unagitated hand deals _certainty_ in its
deadly blows.

In +plate+ 108, I have represented a party of Indians in chase of a
herd some of whom are pursuing with lance and others with bows and
arrows. The group in the foreground shews the attitude at the instant
after the arrow has been thrown and driven to the heart; the Indian at
full speed, and the _laso_ dragging behind his horse’s heels. The laso
is a long thong of rawhide, of ten or fifteen yards in length, made of
several braids or twists, and used chiefly to catch the wild horse,
which is done by throwing over their necks a noose which is made at the
end of the _laso_, with which they are “choked down.” In running the
buffaloes, or in time of war, the _laso_ drags on the ground at the
horse’s feet, and sometimes several rods behind, so that if a man is
dismounted, which is often the case, by the tripping or stumbling of
the horse, he has the power of grasping to the laso, and by stubbornly
holding on to it, of stopping and securing his horse, on whose back he
is instantly replaced, and continuing on in the chase.

In the dead of the winters, which are very long and severely cold in
this country, where horses cannot be brought into the chase with any
avail, the Indian runs upon the surface of the snow by the aid of his
snow shoes, which buoy him up, while the great weight of the buffaloes,
sinks them down to the middle of their sides, and completely stopping
their progress, ensures them certain and easy victims to the bow or
lance of their pursuers, as in +plate+ 109. The snow in these regions
often lies during the winter, to the depth of three and four feet,
being blown away from the tops and sides of the hills in many places,
which are left bare for the buffaloes to graze upon, whilst it is
drifted in the hollows and ravines to a very great depth, and rendered
almost entirely impassable to these huge animals, which, when closely
pursued by their enemies, endeavour to plunge through it, but are soon
wedged in and almost unable to move, where they fall an easy prey to
the Indian, who runs up lightly upon his snow shoes and drives his
lance to their hearts. The skins are then stripped off, to be sold to
the Fur Traders, and the carcasses left to be devoured by the wolves.
This is the season in which the greatest number of these animals are
destroyed for their robes—they are most easily killed at this time, and
their hair or fur being longer and more abundant, gives greater value
to the robe.

The Indians generally kill and dry meat enough in the fall, when it
is fat and juicy, to last them through the winter; so that they have
little other object for this unlimited slaughter, amid the drifts
of snow, than that of procuring their robes for traffic with their
Traders. The snow shoes are made in a great many forms, of two and
three feet in length, and one foot or more in width, of a hoop or
hoops bent around for the frame, with a netting or web woven across
with strings of rawhide, on which the feet rest, and to which they are
fastened with straps somewhat like a skate.[14] With these the Indian
will glide over the snow with astonishing quickness, without sinking
down, or scarcely leaving his track where he has gone.

The poor buffaloes have their enemy _man_, besetting and beseiging them
at all times of the year, and in all the modes that man in his superior
wisdom has been able to devise for their destruction. They struggle in
vain to evade his deadly shafts, when he dashes amongst them over the
plains on his wild horse—they plunge into the snow-drifts where they
yield themselves an easy prey to their destroyers, and they also stand
unwittingly and behold him, unsuspected under the skin of a white wolf,
insinuating himself and his fatal weapons into close company, when they
are peaceably grazing on the level prairies, and shot down before they
are aware of their danger (+plate+ 110).

There are several varieties of the wolf species in this country, the
most formidable and most numerous of which are white, often sneaking
about in gangs or families of fifty or sixty in numbers, appearing in
distance, on the green prairies like nothing but a flock of sheep.
Many of these animals grow to a very great size, being I should think,
quite a match for the largest Newfoundland dog. At present, whilst the
buffaloes are so abundant, and these ferocious animals are glutted
with the buffalo’s flesh, they are harmless, and everywhere sneak away
from man’s presence; which I scarcely think will be the case after
the buffaloes are all gone, and they are left, as they must be, with
scarcely anything to eat. They always are seen following about in the
vicinity of herds of buffaloes and stand ready to pick the bones of
those that the hunters leave on the ground, or to overtake and devour
those that are wounded, which fall an easy prey to them. While the herd
of buffaloes are together, they seem to have little dread of the wolf,
and allow them to come in close company with them. The Indian then has
taken advantage of this fact, and often places himself under the skin
of this animal, and crawls for half a mile or more on his hands and
knees, until he approaches within a few rods of the unsuspecting group,
and easily shoots down the fattest of the throng.

The buffalo is a very timid animal, and shuns the vicinity of man with
the keenest sagacity; yet, when overtaken, and harassed or wounded,
turns upon its assailants with the utmost fury, who have only to seek
safety in flight. In their desperate resistance the finest horses
are often destroyed; but the Indian, with his superior sagacity and
dexterity, generally finds some effective mode of escape, as in +plate+
111.

[Illustration: 109]

[Illustration: 110]

During the season of the year whilst the calves are young, the male
seems to stroll about by the side of the dam, as if for the purpose
of protecting the young, at which time it is exceedingly hazardous to
attack them, as they are sure to turn upon their pursuers, who have
often to fly to each others assistance (+plate+ 112). The buffalo calf,
during the first six months is red, and has so much the appearance of
a red calf in cultivated fields, that it could easily be mingled and
mistaken amongst them. In the fall, when it changes its hair it takes a
brown coat for the winter, which it always retains. In pursuing a large
herd of buffaloes at the season when their calves are but a few weeks
old, I have often been exceedingly amused with the curious manœuvres of
these shy little things. Amidst the thundering confusion of a throng of
several hundreds or several thousands of these animals, there will be
many of the calves that lose sight of their dams; and being left behind
by the throng, and the swift passing hunters, they endeavour to secrete
themselves, when they are exceedingly put to it on a level prairie,
where nought can be seen but the short grass of six or eight inches in
height, save an occasional bunch of wild sage, a few inches higher, to
which the poor affrighted things will run, and dropping on their knees,
will push their noses under it, and into the grass, where they will
stand for hours, with their eyes shut, imagining themselves securely
hid, whilst they are standing up quite straight upon their hind feet
and can easily be seen at several miles distance. It is a familiar
amusement for us accustomed to these scenes, to retreat back over the
ground where we have just escorted the herd, and approach these little
trembling things, which stubbornly maintain their positions, with their
noses pushed under the grass, and their eyes strained upon us, as we
dismount from our horses and are passing around them. From this fixed
position they are sure not to move, until hands are laid upon them,
and then for the shins of a novice, we can extend our sympathy; or if
he can preserve the skin on his bones from the furious buttings of its
head, we know how to congratulate him on his signal success and good
luck. In these desperate struggles, for a moment, the little thing
is conquered, and makes no further resistance. And I have often, in
concurrence with a known custom of the country, held my hands over the
eyes of the calf, and breathed a few strong breaths into its nostrils;
after which I have, with my hunting companions, rode several miles into
our encampment, with the little prisoner busily following the heels
of my horse the whole way, as closely and as affectionately as its
instinct would attach it to the company of its dam!

This is one of the most extraordinary things that I have met with
in the habits of this wild country, and although I had often heard
of it, and felt unable exactly to believe it, I am now willing to
bear testimony to the fact, from the numerous instances which I have
witnessed since I came into the country. During the time that I resided
at this post, in the spring of the year, on my way up the river, I
assisted (in numerous hunts of the buffalo, with the Fur Company’s
men,) in bringing in, in the above manner, several of these little
prisoners, which sometimes followed for five or six miles close to
our horses’ heels, and even into the Fur Company’s Fort, and into the
stable where our horses were led. In this way, before I left for the
head waters of the Missouri, I think we had collected about a dozen,
which Mr. Laidlaw was successfully raising with the aid of a good milch
cow, and which were to be committed to the care of Mr. Chouteau to be
transported by the return of the steamer, to his extensive plantation
in the vicinity of St. Louis.[15]

It is truly a melancholy contemplation for the traveller in this
country, to anticipate the period which is not far distant, when the
last of these noble animals, at the hands of white and red men, will
fall victims to their cruel and improvident rapacity; leaving these
beautiful green fields, a vast and idle waste, unstocked and unpeopled
for ages to come, until the bones of the one and the traditions of the
other will have vanished, and left scarce an intelligible trace behind.

That the reader should not think me visionary in these contemplations,
or romancing in making such assertions, I will hand him the following
item of the extravagancies which are practiced in these regions, and
rapidly leading to the results which I have just named.

When I first arrived at this place, on my way up the river, which was
in the month of May, in 1832, and had taken up my lodgings in the Fur
Company’s Fort, Mr. Laidlaw, of whom I have before spoken, and also his
chief clerk, Mr. Halsey, and many of their men, as well as the chiefs
of the Sioux, told me, that only a few days before I arrived, (when an
immense herd of buffaloes had showed themselves on the opposite side
of the river, almost blackening the plains for a great distance,) a
party of five or six hundred Sioux Indians on horseback, forded the
river about mid-day, and spending a few hours amongst them, recrossed
the river at sun-down and came into the Fort with _fourteen hundred
fresh buffalo tongues_, which were thrown down in a mass, and for which
they required but a few gallons of whiskey, which was soon demolished,
indulging them in a little, and harmless carouse.

This profligate waste of the lives of these noble and useful animals,
when, from all that I could learn, not a skin or a pound of the
meat (except the tongues), was brought in, fully supports me in
the seemingly extravagant predictions that I have made as to
their extinction, which I am certain is near at hand. In the above
extravagant instance, at a season when their skins were without fur and
not worth taking off, and their camp was so well stocked with fresh and
dried meat, that they had no occasion for using the flesh, there is a
fair exhibition of the improvident character of the savage, and also of
his recklessness in catering for his appetite, so long as the present
inducements are held out to him in his country, for its gratification.

[Illustration: 111]

[Illustration: 112]

In this singular country, where the poor Indians have no laws or
regulations of society, making it a vice or an impropriety to drink to
excess, they think it no harm to indulge in the delicious beverage, as
long as they are able to buy whiskey to drink. They look to white men
as wiser than themselves, and able to set them examples—they see none
of these in their country but sellers of whiskey, who are constantly
tendering it to them, and most of them setting the example by using it
themselves; and they easily acquire a taste, that to be catered for,
where whiskey is sold at sixteen dollars per gallon, soon impoverishes
them, and must soon strip the skin from the last buffalo’s back that
lives in their country, to “be dressed by their squaws” and vended to
the Traders for a pint of diluted alcohol.

From the above remarks it will be seen, that not only the red men,
but red men and white, have aimed destruction at the race of these
animals; and with them, _beasts_ have turned hunters of buffaloes in
this country, slaying them, however, in less numbers, and for far more
laudable purpose than that of selling their skins. The white wolves, of
which I have spoken in a former epistle, follow the herds of buffaloes
as I have said, from one season to another, glutting themselves on the
carcasses of those that fall by the deadly shafts of their enemies,
or linger with disease or old age to be dispatched by these sneaking
cormorants, who are ready at all times kindly to relieve them from the
pangs of a lingering death.

Whilst the herd is together, the wolves never attack them, as they
instantly gather for combined resistance, which they effectually make.
But when the herds are travelling, it often happens that an aged or
wounded one, lingers at a distance behind, and when fairly out of sight
of the herd, is set upon by these voracious hunters, which often gather
to the number of fifty or more, and are sure at last to torture him
to death, and use him up at a meal. The buffalo, however, is a huge
and furious animal, and when his retreat is cut off, makes desperate
and deadly resistance, contending to the last moment for the right of
life—and oftentimes deals death by wholesale, to his canine assailants,
which he is tossing into the air or stamping to death under his feet
(+plate+ 113).

During my travels in these regions, I have several times come across
such a gang of these animals surrounding an old or a wounded bull,
where it would seem, from appearances, that they had been for several
days in attendance, and at intervals desperately engaged in the
effort to take his life. But a short time since, as one of my hunting
companions and myself were returning to our encampment with our horses
loaded with meat, we discovered at a distance, a huge bull, encircled
with a gang of white wolves; we rode up as near as we could without
driving them away, and being within pistol shot, we had a remarkably
good view, where I sat for a few moments and made a sketch in my
note-book (+plate+ 114); after which, we rode up and gave the signal
for them to disperse, which they instantly did, withdrawing themselves
to the distance of fifty or sixty rods, when we found, to our great
surprise, that the animal had made desperate resistance, until his
eyes were entirely eaten out of his head—the grizzle of his nose was
mostly gone—his tongue was half eaten off, and the skin and flesh of
his legs torn almost literally into strings. In this tattered and torn
condition, the poor old veteran stood bracing up in the midst of his
devourers, who had ceased hostilities for a few minutes, to enjoy a
sort of parley, recovering strength and preparing to resume the attack
in a few moments again. In this group, some were reclining, to gain
breath, whilst others were sneaking about and licking their chaps in
anxiety for a renewal of the attack; and others, less lucky, had been
crushed to death by the feet or the horns of the bull. I rode nearer
to the pitiable object as he stood bleeding and trembling before me,
and said to him, “Now is your time, old fellow, and you had better be
off.” Though blind and nearly destroyed, there seemed evidently to be
a recognition of a friend in me, as he straightened up, and, trembling
with excitement, dashed off at full speed upon the prairie, in a
straight line. We turned our horses and resumed our march, and when we
had advanced a mile or more, we looked back, and on our left, where we
saw again the ill-fated animal surrounded by his tormentors, to whose
insatiable voracity he unquestionably soon fell a victim.

Thus much I wrote of the buffaloes, and of the accidents that befall
them, as well as of the fate that awaits them; and before I closed my
book, I strolled out one day to the shade of a plum-tree, where I laid
in the grass on a favourite bluff, and wrote thus:—

“It is generally supposed, and familiarly said, that a man ‘_falls_’
into a rêverie; but I seated myself in the shade a few minutes since,
resolved to _force_ myself into one; and for this purpose I laid open a
small pocket-map of North America, and excluding my thoughts from every
other object in the world, I soon succeeded in producing the desired
illusion. This little chart, over which I bent, was seen in all its
parts, as nothing but the green and vivid reality. I was lifted up upon
an imaginary pair of wings, which easily raised and held me floating
in the open air, from whence I could behold beneath me the Pacific
and the Atlantic Oceans—the great cities of the East, and the mighty
rivers. I could see the blue chain of the great lakes at the North—the
Rocky Mountains, and beneath them and near their base, the vast, and
almost boundless plains of grass, which were speckled with the bands of
grazing buffaloes!

“The world turned gently around, and I examined its surface; continent
after continent passed under my eye, and yet amidst them all, I saw
not the vast and vivid green, that is spread like a carpet over the
Western wilds of my own country. I saw not elsewhere in the world, the
myriad herds of buffaloes—my eyes scanned in vain, for they were not.
And when I turned again to the wilds of my native land, I beheld them
all in motion! For the distance of several hundreds of miles from North
to South, they were wheeling about in vast columns and herds—some were
scattered, and ran with furious wildness—some lay dead, and others
were pawing the earth for a hiding-place—some were sinking down and
dying, gushing out their life’s blood in deep-drawn sighs—and others
were contending in furious battle for the life they possessed, and
the ground that they stood upon. They had long since assembled from
the thickets, and secret haunts of the deep forest, into the midst of
the treeless and bushless plains, as the place for their safety. I
could see in an hundred places, amid the wheeling bands, and on their
skirts and flanks, the leaping wild horse darting among them. I saw
not the arrows, nor heard the twang of the sinewy bows that sent them;
but I saw their victims fall!—on other steeds that rushed along their
sides I saw the glistening lances, which seemed to lay across them;
their blades were blazing in the sun, till dipped in blood, and then
I lost them! In other parts (and there were many), the vivid flash of
_fire-arms_ was seen—_their_ victims fell too, and over their dead
bodies hung suspended in air, little clouds of whitened smoke, from
under which the flying horsemen had darted forward to mingle again
with, and deal death to, the trampling throng.

[Illustration: 113]

[Illustration: 114]

“So strange were men mixed (both red and white) with the countless
herds that wheeled and eddyed about, that all below seemed one vast
extended field of battle—whole armies, in some places, seemed to
blacken the earth’s surface;—in other parts, regiments, battalions,
wings, platoons, rank and file, and “_Indian-file_”—all were in motion;
and death and destruction seemed to be the watch-word amongst them. In
their turmoil, they sent up great clouds of dust, and with them came
the mingled din of groans and trampling hoofs, that seemed like the
rumbling of a dreadful cataract, or the roaring of distant thunder.
Alternate pity and admiration harrowed up in my bosom and my brain,
many a hidden thought; and amongst them a few of the beautiful notes
that were once sung, and exactly in point: ‘_Quadrupedante putrem
sonitu quatit ungula campum._’ Even such was the din amidst the
quadrupeds of these vast plains. And from the craggy cliffs of the
Rocky Mountains also were seen descending into the valley, the myriad
Tartars, who had not horses to ride, but before their well-drawn bows
the fattest of the herds were falling. Hundreds and thousands were
strewed upon the plains—they were flayed, and their reddened carcasses
left; and about them bands of wolves, and dogs, and buzzards were seen
devouring them. Contiguous, and in sight, were the distant and feeble
smokes of wigwams and villages, where the skins were dragged, and
dressed for white man’s luxury! where they were all sold for _whiskey_,
and the poor Indians laid drunk, and were crying. I cast my eyes into
the towns and cities of the East, and there I beheld buffalo robes
hanging at almost every door for traffic; and I saw also the curling
smokes of a thousand _Stills_—and I said, ‘Oh insatiable man, is thy
avarice such! wouldst thou tear the skin from the back of the last
animal of this noble race, _and rob thy fellow-man of his meat, and for
it give him poison_!’”    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Many are the rudenesses and wilds in Nature’s works, which are destined
to fall before the deadly axe and desolating hands of cultivating man;
and so amongst her ranks of _living_, of beast and human, we often find
noble stamps, or beautiful colours, to which our admiration clings;
and even in the overwhelming march of civilized improvements and
refinements do we love to cherish their existence, and lend our efforts
to preserve them in their primitive rudeness. Such of Nature’s works
are always worthy of our preservation and protection; and the further
we become separated (and the face of the country) from that pristine
wildness and beauty, the more pleasure does the mind of enlightened man
feel in recurring to those scenes, when he can have them preserved for
his eyes and his mind to dwell upon.

Of such “rudenesses and wilds,” Nature has no where presented more
beautiful and lovely scenes, than those of the vast prairies of the
West; and of _man_ and _beast_, no nobler specimens than those who
inhabit them—the _Indian_ and the _buffalo_—joint and original tenants
of the soil, and fugitives together from the approach of civilized
man; they have fled to the great plains of the West, and there, under
an equal doom, they have taken up their _last abode_, where their race
will expire, and their bones will bleach together.

It may be that _power_ is _right_, and _voracity_ a _virtue_; and that
these people, and these noble animals, are _righteously_ doomed to an
issue that _will_ not be averted. It can be easily proved—we have a
civilized science that can easily do it, or anything else that may be
required to cover the iniquities of civilized man in catering for his
unholy appetites. It can be proved that the weak and ignorant have no
_rights_—that there can be no virtue in darkness—that God’s gifts have
no meaning or merit until they are appropriated by civilized man—by
him brought into the light, and converted to his use and luxury. We
have a mode of reasoning (I forget what it is called) by which all this
can be proved, and even more. The _word_ and the _system_ are entirely
of _civilized_ origin; and latitude is admirably given to them in
proportion to the increase of civilized wants, which often require a
_judge_ to overrule the laws of nature. I say that _we_ can prove such
things; but an _Indian_ cannot. It is a mode of reasoning unknown to
him in his nature’s simplicity, but admirably adapted to subserve the
interests of the enlightened world, who are always their own judges,
when dealing with the savage; and who, in the present refined age, have
many appetites that can only be lawfully indulged, by proving God’s
laws defective.

It is not enough in this polished and extravagant age, that we get from
the Indian his lands, and the very clothes from his back, but the food
from their mouths must be stopped, to add a new and useless article to
the fashionable world’s luxuries. The ranks must be thinned, and the
race exterminated, of this noble animal, and the Indians of the great
plains left without the means of supporting life, that white men may
figure a few years longer, enveloped in buffalo robes—that they may
spread them, for their pleasure and elegance, over the backs of their
sleighs, and trail them ostentatiously amidst the busy throng, as
things of beauty and elegance that had been made for them!

Reader! listen to the following calculations, and forget them not.
The buffaloes (the quadrupeds from whose backs your beautiful robes
were taken, and whose myriads were once spread over the whole country,
from the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic Ocean) have recently fled
before the appalling appearance of civilized man, and taken up their
abode and pasturage amid the almost boundless prairies of the West.
An instinctive dread of their deadly foes, who made an easy prey of
them whilst grazing in the forest, has led them to seek the midst of
the vast and treeless plains of grass, as the spot where they would be
least exposed to the assaults of their enemies; and it is exclusively
in those desolate fields of silence (yet of beauty) that they are to
be found—and over these vast steppes, or prairies, have they fled,
like the Indian, towards the “setting sun;” until their bands have
been crowded together, and their limits confined to a narrow strip of
country on this side of the Rocky Mountains.

This strip of country, which extends from the province of Mexico to
lake Winnepeg on the North, is almost one entire plain of grass, which
is, and ever must be, useless to cultivating man. It is here, and
here chiefly, that the buffaloes dwell; and with, and hovering about
them, live and flourish the tribes of Indians, whom God made for the
enjoyment of that fair land and its luxuries.

It is a melancholy contemplation for one who has travelled as I have,
through these realms, and seen this noble animal in all its pride and
glory, to contemplate it so rapidly wasting from the world, drawing the
irresistible conclusion too, which one must do, that its species is
soon to be extinguished, and with it the peace and happiness (if not
the actual existence) of the tribes of Indians who are joint tenants
with them, in the occupancy of these vast and idle plains.

And what a splendid contemplation too, when one (who has travelled
these realms, and can duly appreciate them) imagines them as they
_might_ in future be seen, (by some great protecting policy of
government) preserved in their pristine beauty and wildness, in a
_magnificent park_, where the world could see for ages to come, the
native Indian in his classic attire, galloping his wild horse, with
sinewy bow, and shield and lance, amid the fleeting herds of elks and
buffaloes. What a beautiful and thrilling specimen for America to
preserve and hold up to the view of her refined citizens and the world,
in future ages! A _nation’s Park_, containing man and beast, in all the
wild and freshness of their nature’s beauty!

I would ask no other monument to my memory, nor any other enrolment of
my name amongst the famous dead, than the reputation of having been the
founder of such an institution.

Such scenes might easily have been preserved, and still could be
cherished on the great plains of the West, without detriment to
the country or its borders; for the tracts of country on which the
buffaloes have assembled, are uniformly sterile, and of no available
use to cultivating man.

It is on these plains, which are stocked with buffaloes, that the
finest specimens of the Indian race are to be seen. It is here, that
the savage is decorated in the richest costume. It is here, and here
only, that his wants are all satisfied, and even the _luxuries_ of
life are afforded him in abundance. And here also is he the proud and
honourable man (before he has had teachers or laws), above the imported
wants, which beget meanness and vice; stimulated by ideas of honour and
virtue, in which the God of Nature has certainly not curtailed him.

There are, by a fair calculation, more than 300,000 Indians, who are
now subsisted on the flesh of the buffaloes, and by those animals
supplied with all the luxuries of life which they desire, as they
know of none others. The great variety of uses to which they convert
the body and other parts of that animal, are almost incredible to
the person who has not actually dwelt amongst these people, and
closely studied their modes and customs. Every part of their flesh is
converted into food, in one shape or another, and on it they entirely
subsist. The robes of the animals are worn by the Indians instead of
blankets—their skins when tanned, are used as coverings for their
lodges, and for their beds; undressed, they are used for constructing
canoes—for saddles, for bridles—l’arrêts, lasos, and thongs. The horns
are shaped into ladles and spoons—the brains are used for dressing the
skins—their bones are used for saddle trees—for war clubs, and scrapers
for graining the robes—and others are broken up for the marrow-fat
which is contained in them. Their sinews are used for strings and backs
to their bows—for thread to string their beads and sew their dresses.
The feet of the animals are boiled, with their hoofs, for the glue
they contain, for fastening their arrow points, and many other uses.
The hair from the head and shoulders, which is long, is twisted and
braided into halters, and the tail is used for a fly brush. In this
wise do these people convert and use the various parts of this useful
animal, and with all these luxuries of life about them, and their
numerous games, they are happy (God bless them) in the ignorance of the
disastrous fate that awaits them.

Yet this interesting community, with its sports, its wildnesses, its
languages, and all its manners and customs, could be perpetuated, and
also the buffaloes, whose numbers would increase and supply them with
food for ages and centuries to come, if a system of non-intercourse
could be established and preserved. But such is not to be the case—the
buffalo’s doom is sealed, and with their extinction must assuredly sink
into real despair and starvation, the inhabitants of these vast plains,
which afford for the Indians, no other possible means of subsistence;
and they must at last fall a prey to wolves and buzzards, who will have
no other bones to pick.

It seems hard and cruel, (does it not?) that we civilized people with
all the luxuries and comforts of the world about us, should be drawing
from the backs of these useful animals the skins for our luxury,
leaving their carcasses to be devoured by the wolves—that we should
draw from that country, some 150 or 200,000 of their robes annually,
the greater part of which are taken from animals that are killed
expressly for the robe, at a season when the meat is not cured and
preserved, and for each of which skins the Indian has received but a
pint of whiskey!

Such is the fact, and that number or near it, are annually destroyed,
in addition to the number that is necessarily killed for the
subsistence of 300,000 Indians, who live entirely upon them. It may
be said, perhaps, that the Fur Trade of these great western realms,
which is now limited chiefly to the purchase of buffalo robes, is of
great and national importance, and should and must be encouraged. To
such a suggestion I would reply, by merely enquiring, (independently of
the poor Indians’ disasters,) how much more advantageously would such
a capital be employed, both for the weal of the country and for the
owners, if it were invested in machines for the manufacture of _woollen
robes_, of equal and superior value and beauty; thereby encouraging
the growers of wool, and the industrious manufacturer, rather than
cultivating a taste for the use of buffalo skins; which is just to be
acquired, and then, from necessity, to be dispensed with, when a few
years shall have destroyed the last of the animals producing them.

It may be answered, perhaps, that the necessaries of life are given in
exchange for these robes; but what, I would ask, are the necessities
in Indian life, where they have buffaloes in abundance to live on?
The Indian’s necessities are entirely artificial—are all created; and
when the buffaloes shall have disappeared in his country, which will
be within _eight_ or _ten_ years, I would ask, who is to supply him
with the necessaries of life then? and I would ask, further, (and leave
the question to be answered ten years hence), when the skin shall have
been stripped from the back of the last animal, who is to resist the
ravages of 300,000 starving savages; and in their trains, 1,500,000
wolves, whom direst necessity will have driven from their desolate and
gameless plains, to seek for the means of subsistence along our exposed
frontier? God has everywhere supplied man in a state of Nature, with
the necessaries of life, and before we destroy the game of his country,
or teach him new desires, he has no wants that are not satisfied.

Amongst the tribes who have been impoverished and repeatedly removed,
the necessaries of life are extended with a better grace from the
hands of civilized man; 90,000 of such have already been removed, and
they draw from Government some 5 or 600,000 dollars annually in cash;
_which money passes immediately into the hands of white men_, and for
it the necessaries of life _may be_ abundantly furnished. But who, I
would ask, are to furnish the Indians who have been instructed in this
unnatural mode—living upon _such_ necessaries, and even luxuries of
life, extended to them by the hands of white men, when those annuities
are at an end, and the skin is stripped from the last of the animals
which God gave them for their subsistence?

Reader, I will stop here, lest you might forget to answer these
important queries—these are questions which I know will puzzle the
world—and, perhaps it is not right that I should ask them.   *    *
  *    *    *    *    *    *    *

  *    *    Thus much I wrote and painted at this place, whilst on my way up
the river: after which I embarked on the steamer for the Yellow Stone,
and the sources of the Missouri, through which interesting regions I
have made a successful Tour; and have returned, as will have been seen
by the foregoing narrations, in my canoe, to this place, from whence
I am to descend the river still further in a few days. If I ever get
time, I may give further Notes on this place, and of people and their
doings, which I met with here; but at present, I throw my note-book,
and canvass, and brushes into my canoe, which will be launched
to-morrow morning, and on its way towards St. Louis, with myself at
the steering-oar, as usual; and with Ba’tiste and Bogard to paddle, of
whom, I beg the readers’ pardon for having said nothing of late, though
they have been my constant companions. Our way is now over the foaming
and muddy waters of the Missouri, and amid snags and drift logs (for
there is a sweeping freshet on her waters), and many a day will pass
before other Letters will come from me; and possibly, the reader may
have to look to my biographer for the rest. Adieu.

  [13] The reader will be further instructed on this subject, by
  referring back to +plate+ 9, in the beginning of the book.


  [14] The readers will look forward to +plates+ 240 and 243, in the
  Second Volume, for snow shoes.


  [15] The fate of these poor little prisoners, I was informed on my
  return to St. Louis a year afterwards, was a very disastrous one.
  The steamer having a distance of 1600 miles to perform, and lying
  a week or two on sand bars, in a country where milk could not be
  procured, they all perished but one, which is now flourishing in
  the extensive fields of this gentleman.


                             END OF VOL. I.


  Transcriber’s Notes:

    - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
    - Text enclosed by equals is in antiqua (=antiqua=).
    - Text enclosed by pluses is in small caps (+Small Caps+).
    - Blank pages have been removed.
    - Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
    - All illustrations are attributed to _G. Catlin_.
    - There is no illustration 23.
    - “Plate” numbers on pages with illustrations are excluded from the
      text version as they seem to serve no purpose. Plate number
      references in the text are for the image numbers.



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