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Title: Illustrations of the manners, customs, & condition of the North American Indians, Vol. 2 (of 2): With letters and notes, written during eight years of travel and adventure among the wildest and most remarkable tribes now existing
Author: Catlin, George
Language: English
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CUSTOMS, & CONDITION OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS, VOL. 2 (OF 2) ***
[Illustration: U. STATES’ INDIAN FRONTIER IN 1840.
_Showing the Positions of the Tribes that have been removed west of
the Mississippi._]
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. II.
=London:=
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY.
1876.
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
LETTER—No. 32.
Cantonment Leavenworth, p. 1, 15.—Shiennes, p. 2.—Portraits of, pls.
115, 116.—Floyd’s Grave, p. 4, pl. 118.—Black Bird’s Grave, p. 5, pl.
117.—Beautiful grassy bluffs, p. 8, pls. 119, 120.—Mandan remains,
p. 9, pl. 121.—Belle Vue, p. 11, pl. 122.—Square hills, p. 11, pl.
123.—Mouth of Platte, p. 13, pl. 125.—Buffaloes crossing, p. 13, pl.
126.
LETTER—No. 33.
Grouse shooting before the burning prairies, p. 16.—Prairie bluffs
burning, p. 17, pl. 127.—Prairie meadows burning, p. 17, pl. 128.
LETTER—No. 34.
Ioways, p. 22, pls. 129, 130, 132.—Konzas, p. 22, pls. 133, 134, 135,
136.—Mode of shaving the head, p. 23.—Pawnees, p. 24.—Small-pox
amongst Pawnees, p. 25.—Major Dougherty’s opinion of the Fur Trade,
p. 26.—Grand Pawnees, p. 27, pls. 138, 139, 140.—Ottoes, p. 27, pls.
143, 144.—Omahas, p. 27, pls. 145, 146.
LETTER—No. 35.
St. Louis, p. 29.—Loss of Indian curiosities, &c.—Governor Clarke, p.
30.
LETTER—No. 36.
Pensacola, Florida—Perdido, p. 32.—Pine woods of Florida, p. 33, pl.
147.—Santa Rosa Island, p. 33, pl. 148.—Prophecy, p. 34.—Start for
Camanchee country, p. 35.
LETTER—No. 37.
Transit up the Arkansas river, p. 36.—Fort Gibson, 1st regiment United
States’ Dragoons reviewed, p. 38.—Equipping and starting of Dragoons
for the Camanchee country, p. 38, 39.
LETTER—No. 38.
Fort Gibson, p. 40.—Osages, p. 41.—Portraits of Osages, p. 41, pls.
150, 151, 152, 3, 4, 5, 6.—Former and present condition of, p. 43,
44.—Start for Camanchees and Pawnee Picts, p. 44.
LETTER—No. 39.
Mouth of the False Washita and Red River, p. 45.—Beautiful prairie
country, p. 45.—Arkansas grapes.—Plums.—Wild roses, currants,
gooseberries, prickly pears, &c. p. 46.—Buffalo chase, p. 46.—Murder
of Judge Martin and family, p. 47.
LETTER—No. 40.
Sickness at the Mouth of False Washita—one-half of the regiment start
for the Camanchees, under command of Col. Dodge, p. 49.—Sickness of
General Leavenworth, and cause of, p. 50.—Another buffalo hunt, p. 51.
LETTER—No. 41.
Great Camanchee village, Texas, p. 53.—A stampedo, p. 53.—Meeting
a Camanchee war party, and mode of approaching them, p. 55, pl.
157.—They turn about and escort the Dragoons to their village,
p. 56.—Immense herds of buffaloes, p. 56.—Buffaloes breaking
through the ranks of the Dragoon regiment, p. 57, pl. 158.—Wild
horses—sagacity of—wild horses at play, p. 57, pl. 160.—Joe Chadwick
and I “_creasing_” a wild horse, p. 58.—Taking the wild horse with
laso, and “breaking down,” p. 58, pls. 161, 162.—Chain of the Rocky
Mountain, p. 60.—Approach to the Camanchee village, p. 61, pl.
163.—Immense number of Camanchee horses—prices of—Capt. Duncan’s
purchase, p. 62, 63.
LETTER—No. 42.
Description of the Camanchee village, and view of, p. 64, pl.
164.—Painting a family group, p. 165.—Camanchees moving, p. 64,
pl. 166.—Wonderful feats of riding, p. 65, pl. 167.—Portraits of
Camanchee chiefs, p. 67, pls. 168, 169, 170, 171, 172.—Estimates of
the Camanchees, p. 68.—Pawnee Picts, Kiowas, and Wicos, p. 69.
LETTER—No. 43.
The regiment advance towards the Pawnee village—Description and
view of the Pawnee village, p. 70, pl. 173.—Council in the Pawnee
village—Recovery of the son of Judge Martin, and the presentation of
the three Pawnee and Kiowa women to their own people, p. 71.—Return
of the regiment to the Camanchee village, p. 72.—Pawnee Picts,
portraits of, p. 73, pls. 174, 175, 176, 177.—Kiowas, p. 74, pls.
178, 179, 180, 181.—Wicos, portraits of, p. 75, pl. 182.
LETTER—No. 44.
Camp Canadian—Immense herds of buffaloes—Great slaughter of
them—Extraordinary sickness of the command, p. 76.—Suffering from
impure water—sickness of the men, p. 77.—Horned frogs—Curious
adventure in catching them, p. 78.—Death of General Leavenworth and
Lieutenant M‘Clure, p. 78.
LETTER—No. 45.
Return to Fort Gibson—Severe and fatal sickness at that place—Death
of Lieutenant West, p. 80.—Death of the Prussian Botanist and his
servant, p. 81.—Indian Council at Fort Gibson, p. 82.—Outfits of
trading-parties to the Camanchees—Probable consequences of, p.
83.—Curious minerals and fossil shells collected and thrown away,
p. 85.—Mountain ridges of fossil shells, of iron and gypsum, p.
86.—Saltpetre and salt, p. 86.
LETTER—No. 46.
Alton, on the Mississippi—Captain Wharton—His sickness at Fort Gibson,
p. 87.—The Author starting alone for St. Louis, a distance of 500
miles across the prairies—His outfit, p. 88.—The Author and his horse
“Charley” encamped on a level prairie, p. 89, pl. 184.—Singular freak
and attachment of the Author’s horse, p. 90.—A beautiful valley
in the prairies, p. 91.—An Indian’s estimation of a newspaper, p.
92.—Riqua’s village of Osages—Meeting Captain Wharton at the Kickapoo
prairie, p. 93.—Difficulty of swimming rivers—Crossing the Osage, p.
94.—Boonville on the Missouri—Author reaches Alton, and starts for
Florida, p. 95.
LETTER—No. 47.
Trip to Florida and Texas, and back to St. Louis, p. 97.—Kickapoos,
portraits of, p. 98, pls. 185, 186.—Weas, portraits of, p. 99,
pls. 187, 188.—Potawatomies, portraits of, p. 100, pls. 189,
190.—Kaskaskias, portraits of, p. 100, pls. 191, 192.—Peorias,
portraits of, p. 101, pls. 193, 194.—Piankeshaws, p. 101, pls. 195,
196.—Delawares, p. 101, pls. 197, 198.—Moheconneuhs, or Mohegans, p.
103, pls. 199, 200.—Oneidas, p. 103, pl. 201.—Tuskaroras, p. 103,
pl. 202.—Senecas, p. 104, pls. 203, 204, 205.—Iroquois p. 106, pl.
206.
LETTER—No. 48.
Flatheads, Nez Percés, p. 108, pls. 207, 208.—Flathead mission across
the Rocky Mountains to St. Louis—Mission of the Reverends Messrs.
Lee and Spalding beyond the Rocky Mountains, p. 109.—Chinooks,
portraits, p. 110, pls. 209, 210.—Process of flattening the head—and
cradle, p. 111, pl. 210½.—Flathead skulls, p. 111.—Similar custom
of Choctaws—Choctaw tradition, p. 112.—Curious manufactures of the
Chinooks—Klick-a-tacks—Chuhaylas, and Na-as Indians, p. 113, pl.
210½.—Character and disposition of the Indians on the Columbia, p.
114.
LETTER—No. 49.
Shawanos, p. 115, pls. 211, 212, 213, 214.—Shawnee prophet and his
transactions, p. 117.—Cherokees, portraits of, p. 119, pls. 215, 216,
217, 218.—Creeks, portraits of, p. 122, pls. 219, 220.—Choctaws,
portraits of, p. 122, pls. 221, 222.—Ball-play, p. 124, in plates
224, 225, 226.—A distinguished ball-player, pl. 223.—Eagle-dance,
p. 126, pl. 227.—Tradition of the Deluge—Of a future state, p.
127.—Origin of the Craw-fish band, p. 128.
LETTER—No. 50.
Fort Snelling, near the Fall of St. Anthony—Description of the
Upper Mississippi, p. 129, 130.—View on the Upper Mississippi and
“Dubuque’s Grave,” p. 130, pls. 128, 129.—Fall of St. Anthony, p.
131, pl. 230.—Fort Snelling, p. 131, pl. 231.—A Sioux cradle, and
modes of carrying their children, p. 132, pl. 232.—Mourning cradle,
same plate—Sioux portraits, p. 134, pls. 233, 234, 235, 236.
LETTER—No. 51.
Fourth of July at the Fall of St. Anthony, and amusements, p.
135–6.—Dog dance of the Sioux, p. 136, pl. 237.—Chippeway village,
p. 137, pl. 238.—Chippeways making the portage around the Fall
of St. Anthony, p. 138, pl. 239.—Chippeway bark canoes—Mandan
canoes of skins—Sioux canoes—Sioux and Chippeway snow-shoes, p.
138, pl. 240.—Portraits of Chippeways, p. 139, pls. 241, 242, 244,
245.—Snow-shoe dance, p. 139, pl. 243.
LETTER—No. 52.
The Author descending the Mississippi in a bark canoe—Shot at by
Sioux Indians, p. 141.—Lake Pepin and “Lover’s Leap,” p. 143, pl.
248.—Pike’s Tent, and Cap au’l’ail, p. 143, pls. 249, 250.—“Cornice
Rocks,” p. 144, pl. 251.—Prairie du Chien, p. 144, pl. 253.—Ball-play
of the women, p. 145, pl. 252.—Winnebagoes, portraits of, p. 146,
pls. 254, 255, 256.—Menomonies, portraits of, p. 147, pls. 258, 259,
260, 261, 262, 263.—Dubuque—Lockwood’s cave, p. 148.—Camp des Moines,
and visit to Ke-o-kuk’s village, p. 149.
LETTER—No. 53.
The Author and his bark canoe sunk in the Des Moine’s Rapids, p.
151.—The Author left on Mascotin Island, p. 153.—Death of Joe
Chadwick—The “West,” not the “_Far_ West,” p. 155.—Author’s
contemplations on the probable future condition of the Great Valley
of the Mississippi, p. 156–159.
LETTER—No. 54.
Côteau des Prairies, p. 160.—Mackinaw and Sault de St. Mary’s, p. 161,
pls. 264, 265.—Catching white fish—Canoe race, p. 162, pls. 266,
267.—Chippeways, portraits of, p. 162, pls. 268, 269.—Voyage up
the Fox River, p. 162.—Voyage down the Ouisconsin in bark canoe,
p. 163.—Red Pipe Stone Quarry, on the Côteau des Prairies, p. 164,
pl. 270.—Indian traditions relative to the Red Pipe Stone, p. 168,
169, 170.—The “Leaping Rock,” p. 170.—The Author and his companion
stopped by the Sioux, on their way, and objections raised by the
Sioux, p. 172, 173, 174, 175.—British medals amongst the Sioux, p.
173.—Mons. La Fromboise, kind reception, p. 176.—Encampment at the
Pipe Stone Quarry, p. 177.—Ba’tiste’s “Story of the Medicine Bag,” p.
178.—“Story of the Dog,” _prelude to_, p. 180.—Leaving the Mandans in
canoe, p. 181.—Passing the Riccarees in the night, p. 182.—Encamping
on the side of a clay-bluff, in a thunderstorm, p. 183.
LETTER—No. 55.
“Story of the Dog” told, p. 188 to 194.—Story of Wi-jun-jon, (the
pigeon’s egg head,) p. 194 to 200.—Further account of the Red Pipe
Stone Quarry, and the Author’s approach to it, p. 201.—Boulders of
the Prairies, p. 203.—Chemical analysis of the Red Pipe Stone, p. 206
LETTER—No. 56.
Author’s return from the Côteau des Prairies—“Laque du Cygne,” p.
207, pl. 276.—Sioux taking Muskrats, pl. 277, same page.—Gathering
wild rice, p. 208, pl. 278.—View on St. Peters river, p. 208, pl.
279.—The Author and his companion embark in a log canoe at “Traverse
de Sioux”—Arrive at Fall of St. Anthony, p. 208.—Lake Pepin—Prairie
du Chien—Cassville—Rock Island, p. 209.—Sac and Fox Indians,
portraits of, p. 210, pls. 280, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286, 287,
289.—Ke-o-kuk on horseback, p. 212, pl. 290.—Slave-dance, p. 213, pl.
291.—“Smoking horses,” p. 213, pl. 292.—Begging-dance, p. 214, pl.
293.—Sailing in canoes—Discovery-dance—Dance to the Berdashe, p. 214,
pls. 294, 295, 296.—Dance to the medicine of the brave, p. 215, pl.
297.—Treaty with Sacs and Foxes—Stipulations of, p. 215, and 216.
LETTER—No. 57.
Fort Moultrie.—Seminolees, p. 218.—Florida war—Prisoners
of war—Os-ce-o-la, p. 219. pl. 298.—Cloud, King
Phillip—Co-ee-ha-jo—Creek Billy, Mick-e-no-pah, p. 220, pls. 299 to
305.—Death of Os-ce-o-la, p. 221.
LETTER—No. 58.
North Western Frontier—General remarks on, p. 223.—General appearance
and habits of the North American Indians, p. 225 to 230.—Jewish
customs and Jewish resemblances, p. 232, 233.—Probable origin of the
Indians, p. 234.—Languages, p. 236.—Government, p. 239.—Cruelties
of punishments, p. 240.—Indian queries on white man’s modes, p.
241.—Modes of war and peace, p. 242.—Pipe of peace dance, p.
242.—Religion, p. 242–3.—Picture writing, songs and totems, p.
246, pls. 306, 307, 308, 309, 310, 311.—Policy of removing the
Indians, p. 249.—Trade and small-pox, the principal destroyers of
the Indian tribes, p. 250.—Murder of the Root Diggers and Riccarees,
252.—Concluding remarks, p. 254 to 256.
APPENDIX A.
Account of the destruction of the Mandans, p. 257.—Author’s reasons for
believing them to have perpetuated the remains of the Welsh Colony
established by Prince Madoc.
APPENDIX B.
Vocabularies of several different Indian languages, shewing their
dissimilarity, p. 262.
APPENDIX C.
Comparison of the Indians’ _original_ and _secondary_ character, p. 266.
LETTERS AND NOTES
ON THE
NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.
LETTER—No. 32.
FORT LEAVENWORTH, _LOWER MISSOURI_.
The readers, I presume, will have felt some anxiety for me and the
fate of my little craft, after the close of my last Letter; and I have
the very great satisfaction of announcing to them that we escaped
_snags_ and _sawyers_, and every other danger, and arrived here safe
from the Upper Missouri, where my last letters were dated. We, (that
is, Ba’tiste, Bogard and I,) are comfortably quartered for awhile, in
the barracks of this hospitable Cantonment, which is now the extreme
Western military post on the frontier, and under the command of Colonel
Davenport, a gentleman of great urbanity of manners, with a Roman
head and a Grecian heart, restrained and tempered by the charms of an
American lady, who has elegantly pioneered the graces of civilized
refinements into these uncivilized regions.
This Cantonment, which is beautifully situated on the west bank of the
Missouri River, and six hundred miles above its mouth, was constructed
some years since by General Leavenworth, from whom it has taken its
name. Its location is very beautiful, and so is the country around
it. It is the concentration point of a number of hostile tribes in
the vicinity, and has its influence in restraining their warlike
propensities.
There is generally a regiment of men stationed here, for the purpose of
holding the Indians in check, and of preserving the peace amongst the
hostile tribes. I shall visit several tribes in this vicinity, and most
assuredly give you some further account of them, as fast as I get it.
Since the date of my last epistles, I succeeded in descending the river
to this place, in my little canoe, with my two men at the oars, and
myself at the helm, steering its course the whole way amongst snags and
sand-bars.
Before I give further account of this downward voyage, however, I
must recur back for a few moments, to the Teton River, from whence I
started, and from whence my last epistles were written, to record a
few more incidents which I then overlooked in my note-book. Whilst
painting my portraits amongst the Sioux, as I have described, I got the
portrait of a noble Shienne chief, by the name of Nee-hee-o-ee-woo-tis,
the wolf on the hill (+plate+ 115). The chief of a party of that
tribe, on a friendly visit to the Sioux, and the portrait also of a
woman, Tis-see-woo-na-tis (she who bathes her knees, +plate+ 116). The
Shiennes are a small tribe of about 3000 in numbers, living neighbours
to the Sioux, on the west of them, and between the Black Hills and the
Rocky Mountains. There is no finer race of men than these in North
America, and none superior in stature, excepting the Osages; scarcely
a man in the tribe, full grown, who is less than six feet in height.
The Shiennes are undoubtedly the richest in horses of any tribe on the
Continent, living in a country as they do, where the greatest herds
of wild horses are grazing on the prairies, which they catch in great
numbers and vend to the Sioux, Mandans and other tribes, as well as to
the Fur Traders.
These people are the most desperate set of horsemen, and warriors also,
having carried on almost unceasing wars with the Pawnees and Blackfeet,
“time out of mind.” The chief represented in the picture was clothed in
a handsome dress of deer skins, very neatly garnished with broad bands
of porcupine quill-work down the sleeves of his shirt and his leggings,
and all the way fringed with scalp-locks. His hair was very profuse,
and flowing over his shoulders; and in his hand he held a beautiful
Sioux pipe, which had just been presented to him by Mr. M‘Kenzie, the
Trader. This was one of the finest looking and most dignified men that
I have met in the Indian country; and from the account given of him
by the Traders a man of honour and strictest integrity. The woman was
comely, and beautifully dressed; her dress of the mountain-sheep skins,
tastefully ornamented with quills and beads, and her hair plaited in
large braids, that hung down on her breast.
After I had painted these and many more, whom I have not time at
present to name, I painted the portrait of a celebrated warrior of
the Sioux, by the name of Mah-to-chee-ga (the little bear), who was
unfortunately slain in a few moments after the picture was done, by
one of his own tribe; and which was very near costing me my life for
having painted a side view of his face, leaving one-half of it out of
the picture, which had been the cause of the affray; and supposed by
the whole tribe to have been intentionally left out by me, as “good for
nothing.” This was the last picture that I painted amongst the Sioux,
and the last, undoubtedly, that I ever shall paint in that place. So
tremendous and so alarming was the excitement about it, that my brushes
were instantly put away, and I embarked the next day on the steamer for
the sources of the Missouri, and was glad to get underweigh.
The man who slew this noble warrior was a troublesome fellow of the
same tribe, by the name of Shon-ka (the dog). A “hue and cry” has been
on his track for several months; and my life having been repeatedly
threatened during my absence up the river, I shall defer telling
the whole of this most extraordinary affair, until I see that my own
scalp is safe, and I am successfully out of the country. A few weeks or
months will decide how many are to fall victims to the vengeance of the
relatives of this murdered brave: and if I outlive the affair, I shall
certainly give some further account of it.[1]
[Illustration: 115]
[Illustration: 116]
My voyage from the mouth of the Teton River to this place has been
the most rugged, yet the most delightful, of my whole Tour. Our
canoe was generally landed at night on the point of some projecting
barren sand-bar, where we straightened our limbs on our buffalo
robes, secure from the annoyance of musquitoes, and out of the walks
of Indians and grizzly bears. In addition to the opportunity which
this descending Tour has afforded me, of visiting all the tribes of
Indians on the river, and leisurely filling my portfolio with the
beautiful scenery which its shores present—the sportsman’s fever was
roused and satisfied; the swan, ducks, geese, and pelicans—the deer,
antelope, elk, and buffaloes, were “_stretched_” by our rifles; and
some times—“pull boys! pull!! a war party! for your lives pull! or we
are gone!”
I often landed my skiff, and mounted the green carpeted bluffs, whose
soft grassy tops, invited me to recline, where I was at once lost in
contemplation. Soul melting scenery that was about me! A place where
the mind could think volumes; but the tongue must be silent that
would _speak_, and the hand palsied that would _write_. A place where
a Divine would confess that he never had fancied Paradise—where the
painter’s palette would lose its beautiful tints—the blood-stirring
notes of eloquence would die in their utterance—and even the soft
tones of sweet music would scarcely preserve a spark to light the
soul again that had passed this sweet delirium. I mean the prairie,
whose enamelled plains that lie beneath me, in distance soften into
sweetness, like an essence; whose thousand thousand velvet-covered
hills, (surely never formed by chance, but grouped in one of Nature’s
sportive moods)—tossing and leaping down with steep or graceful
declivities to the river’s edge, as if to grace its pictured shores,
and make it “a thing to look upon.” I mean the prairie at _sun-set_;
when the green hill-tops are turned into gold—and their long shadows of
melancholy are thrown over the valleys—when all the breathings of day
are hushed, and nought but the soft notes of the retiring dove can be
heard; or the still softer and more plaintive notes of the wolf, who
sneaks through these scenes of enchantment, and mournfully how—l——s, as
if lonesome, and lost in the too beautiful quiet and stillness about
him. I mean _this_ prairie; where Heaven sheds its purest light, and
lends its richest tints—_this round-topp’d bluff_, where the foot
treads soft and light—whose steep sides, and lofty head, rear me to
the skies, overlooking yonder pictured vale of beauty—this solitary
_cedar-post_, which tells a tale of grief—grief that was keenly felt,
and tenderly, but long since softened in the march of time and lost.
Oh, sad and tear-starting contemplation! sole tenant of this stately
mound, how solitary thy habitation! here Heaven wrested from thee thy
ambition, and made thee sleeping monarch of this land of silence.
Stranger! oh, how the mystic web of sympathy links my soul to thee
and thy afflictions! I knew thee not, but it was enough; thy tale was
told, and I a solitary wanderer through thy land, have stopped to drop
familiar tears upon thy grave. Pardon this gush from a stranger’s eyes,
for they are all that thou canst have in this strange land, where
friends and dear relations are not allowed to pluck a flower, and drop
a tear to freshen recollections of endearments past.
Stranger! adieu. With streaming eyes I leave thee again, and thy
fairy land, to peaceful solitude. My pencil has faithfully traced thy
beautiful habitation; and long shall live in the world, and familiar,
the name of “_Floyd’s Grave_.”
Readers, pardon this digression. I have seated myself down, not on a
prairie, but at my table, by a warm and cheering fire, with my journal
before me to cull from it a few pages, for your entertainment; and if
there are spots of loveliness and beauty, over which I have passed, and
whose images are occasionally beckoning me into digressions, you must
forgive me.
Such is the spot I have just named, and some others, on to which I am
instantly transferred when I cast my eyes back upon the enamelled and
beautiful shores of the Upper Missouri; and I am constrained to step
aside and give ear to their breathings, when their soft images, and
cherished associations, so earnestly prompt me. “Floyd’s Grave” is a
name given to one of the most lovely and imposing mounds or bluffs on
the Missouri River, about twelve hundred miles above St. Louis, from
the melancholy fate of Serjeant Floyd, who was of Lewis and Clark’s
expedition, in 1806; who died on the way, and whose body was taken to
this beautiful hill, and buried in its top, where now stands a cedar
post, hearing the initials of his name (+plate+ 118).
I landed my canoe in front of this grass-covered mound, and all hands
being fatigued, we encamped a couple of days at its base. I several
times ascended it and sat upon his grave, overgrown with grass and
the most delicate wild flowers, where I sat and contemplated the
solitude and stillness of this tenanted mound; and beheld from its
top, the windings infinite of the Missouri, and its thousand hills and
domes of green, vanishing into blue in distance, when nought but the
soft-breathing winds were heard, to break the stillness and quietude
of the scene. Where not the chirping of bird or sound of cricket, nor
soaring eagle’s scream, were internosed ’tween God and man; nor aught
to check man’s whole surrender of his soul to his Creator. I could
not _hunt_ upon this ground, but I roamed from hill-top to hill-top,
and culled wild flowers, and looked into the valley below me, both
up the river and down, and contemplated the thousand hills and dales
that are now carpeted with green, streaked as they _will_ be, with
the plough, and yellow with the harvest sheaf; spotted with lowing
kine—with houses and fences, and groups of hamlets and villas—and these
lovely hill-tops ringing with the giddy din and maze, or secret earnest
whispers of lovesick swains—of pristine simplicity and virtue—wholesome
and well-earned contentment and abundance—and again, of wealth and
refinements—of idleness and luxury—of vice and its deformities—of fire
and sword, and the vengeance of offended Heaven, wreaked in retributive
destruction!—and peace, and quiet, and loveliness, and silence,
dwelling _again_, over and through these scenes, and blending them into
futurity!
[Illustration: 117]
[Illustration: 118]
Many such scenes there are, and thousands, on the Missouri shores.
My canoe has been stopped, and I have clambered up their grassy and
flower-decked sides; and sighed all alone, as I have carefully traced
and fastened them in colours on my canvass.
This voyage in my little canoe, amid the thousand islands and
grass-covered bluffs that stud the shores of this mighty river,
afforded me infinite pleasure, mingled with pains and privations which
I never shall wish to forget. Gliding along from day to day, and tiring
our eyes on the varying landscapes that were continually opening to our
view, my merry _voyageurs_ were continually chaunting their cheerful
boat songs, and “every now and then,” taking up their unerring rifles
to bring down the stately elks or antelopes, which were often gazing at
us from the shores of the river.
But a few miles from “Floyd’s Bluff” we landed our canoe, and spent
a day in the vicinity of the “_Black Bird’s Grave_.” This is a
celebrated point on the Missouri, and a sort of telegraphic place,
which all the travellers in these realms, both white and red, are in
the habit of visiting: the one to pay respect to the bones of one of
their distinguished leaders; and the others, to indulge their eyes
on the lovely landscape that spreads out to an almost illimitable
extent in every direction about it. This elevated bluff, which may
be distinguished for several leagues in distance (+plate+ 117), has
received the name of the “Black Bird’s Grave,” from the fact, that
a famous chief of the O-ma-haws, by the name of the Black Bird, was
buried on its top, at his own peculiar request; over whose grave a
cedar post was erected by his tribe some thirty years ago, which is
still standing. The O-ma-haw village was about sixty miles above this
place; and this very noted chief, who had been on a visit to Washington
City, in company with the Indian agent, died of the small-pox, near
this spot, on his return home. And, whilst dying, enjoined on his
warriors who were about him, this singular request, which was literally
complied with. He requested them to take his body down the river to
this his favourite haunt, and on the pinnacle of this towering bluff,
to bury him on the back of his favourite war-horse, which was to be
buried alive, under him, from whence he could see, as he said, “the
Frenchmen passing up and down the river in their boats.” He owned,
amongst many horses, a noble white steed that was led to the top
of the grass-covered hill; and, with great pomp and ceremony, in
presence of the whole nation, and several of the Fur Traders and the
Indian agent, he was placed astride of his horse’s back, with his bow
in his hand, and his shield and quiver slung—with his pipe and his
_medicine-bag_—with his supply of dried meat, and his tobacco-pouch
replenished to last him through his journey to the “beautiful hunting
grounds of the shades of his fathers”—with his flint and steel, and
his tinder, to light his pipes by the way. The scalps that he had
taken from his enemies’ heads, could be trophies for nobody else, and
were hung to the bridle of his horse—he was in full dress and fully
equipped; and on his head waved, to the last moment, his beautiful
head-dress of the war-eagle’s plumes. In this plight, and the last
funeral honours having been performed by the _medicine-men_, every
warrior of his band painted the palm and fingers of his right hand with
vermilion; which was stamped, and perfectly impressed on the milk-white
sides of his devoted horse.
This all done, turfs were brought and placed around the feet and legs
of the horse, and gradually laid up to its sides; and at last, over the
back and head of the unsuspecting animal, and last of all, over the
head and even the eagle plumes of its valiant rider, where altogether
have smouldered and remained undisturbed to the present day.
This mound which is covered with a green turf, and spotted with wild
flowers, with its cedar post in its centre, can easily be seen at the
distance of fifteen miles, by the _voyageur_, and forms for him a
familiar and useful land-mark.
Whilst visiting this mound in company with Major Sanford, on our way up
the river, I discovered in a hole made in the mound, by a “ground hog”
or other animal, the skull of the horse; and by a little pains, also
came at the skull of the chief, which I carried to the river side, and
secreted till my return in my canoe, when I took it in, and brought
with me to this place, where I now have it, with others which I have
collected on my route.
There have been some very surprising tales told of this man, which
will render him famous in history, whether they be truth or matters of
fiction. Of the many, one of the most current is, that he gained his
celebrity and authority by the most diabolical series of murders in his
own tribe; by administering arsenic (with which he had been supplied
by the Fur Traders) to such of his enemies as he wished to get rid
of—and even to others in his tribe whom he was willing to sacrifice,
merely to establish his superhuman powers, and the most servile dread
of the tribe, from the certainty with which his victims fell around
him, precisely at the times he saw fit to predict their death! It has
been said that he administered this potent drug, and to them unknown
_medicine_, to many of his friends as well as to foes; and by such an
inhuman and unparalleled depravity, succeeded in exercising the most
despotic and absolute authority in his tribe, until the time of his
death!
This story may be true, and it may not. I cannot contradict it; and I
am sure the world will forgive me, if I say, I cannot believe it. If
it be true, two things are also true; the one, not much to the credit
of the Indian character; and the other, to the everlasting infamy of
the Fur Traders. If it be true, it furnishes an instance of Indian
depravity that I never have elsewhere heard of in my travels; and
carries the most conclusive proof of the incredible enormity of white
men’s dealings in this country; who, for some sinister purpose must
have introduced the poisonous drug into the country, and taught the
poor chief how to use it; whilst they were silent accessories to the
murders he was committing. This story is said to have been told by the
Fur Traders; and although I have not always the highest confidence in
their justice to the Indian, yet, I cannot for the honour of my own
species, believe them to be so depraved and so wicked, nor so weak, as
to reveal such iniquities of this chief, if they were true, which must
directly implicate themselves as accessories to his most wilful and
unprovoked murders.
Such he has been heralded, however, to future ages, as a murderer—like
hundreds and thousands of others, as “horse thieves”—as “drunkards”—as
“rogues of the first order,” &c. &c.—by the historian who catches but
a glaring story, (and perhaps fabrication) of their lives, and has
no time nor disposition to enquire into and record their long and
brilliant list of virtues, which must be lost in the shade of infamy,
for want of an historian.
I have learned much of this noble chieftain, and at a proper time shall
recount the modes of his civil and military life—how he exposed his
life, and shed his blood in rescuing the victims to horrid torture,
and abolished that savage custom in his tribe—-how he led on and
headed his brave warriors, against the Sacs and Foxes; and saved the
butchery of his women and children—how he received the Indian agent,
and entertained him in his hospitable wigwam, in his village—and how he
conducted and acquitted himself on his embassy to the civilized world.
So much I will take pains to say, of a man whom I never saw, because
other historians have taken equal pains just to mention his name, and a
solitary (and doubtful) act of his life, as they have said of hundreds
of others, for the purpose of consigning him to infamy.
How much more kind would it have been for the historian, who never saw
him, to have enumerated with this, other characteristic actions of his
life (for the verdict of the world); or to have allowed, in charity,
his bones and his name to have slept in silence, instead of calling
them up from the grave, to thrust a dagger through them, and throw them
back again.
Book-making now-a-days, is done for money-making; and he who takes the
Indian for his theme, and cannot go and see him, finds a poverty in
his matter that naturally begets error, by grasping at every little
tale that is brought or fabricated by their enemies. Such books are
standards, because they are made for white man’s reading only; and
herald the character of a people who never can disprove them. They
answer the purpose for which they are written; and the poor Indian who
has no redress, stands stigmatized and branded, as a murderous wretch
and beast.
If the system of book-making and newspaper printing were in operation
in the Indian country awhile, to herald the iniquities and horrible
barbarities of white men in these Western regions, which now are
sure to be overlooked; I venture to say, that chapters would soon be
printed, which would sicken the reader to his heart, and set up the
Indian, a fair and tolerable man.
There is no more beautiful prairie country in the world, than that
which is to be seen in this vicinity. In looking back from this bluff,
towards the West, there is, to an almost boundless extent, one of
the most beautiful scenes imaginable. The surface of the country is
gracefully and slightly undulating, like the swells of the retiring
ocean after a heavy storm. And everywhere covered with a beautiful
green turf, and with occasional patches and clusters of trees. The soil
in this region is also rich, and capable of making one of the most
beautiful and productive countries in the world.
Ba’tiste and Bogard used their rifles to some effect during the day
that we loitered here, and gathered great quantities of delicious
grapes. From this lovely spot we embarked the next morning, and glided
through constantly changing scenes of beauty, until we landed our canoe
at the base of a beautiful series of grass-covered bluffs, which, like
thousands and thousands of others on the banks of this river, are
designated by no name, that I know of; and I therefore introduce them
as fair specimens of the _grassy bluffs_ of the Missouri.
My canoe was landed at noon, at the base of these picturesque hills—and
there rested till the next morning. As soon as we were ashore, I
scrambled to their summits, and beheld, even to a line, what the reader
has before him in +plates+ 119 and 120. I took my easel, and canvass
and brushes, to the top of the bluff, and painted the two views from
the same spot; the one looking up, and the other down the river. The
reader, by imagining these hills to be five or six hundred feet high,
and every foot of them, as far as they can be discovered in distance,
covered with a vivid green turf, whilst the sun is gilding one side,
and throwing a cool shadow on the other, will be enabled to form
something like an adequate idea of the shores of the Missouri. From
this enchanting spot there was nothing to arrest the eye from ranging
over its waters for the distance of twenty or thirty miles, where it
quietly glides between its barriers, formed of thousands of green and
gracefully sloping hills, with its rich and alluvial meadows, and
woodlands—and its hundred islands, covered with stately cotton-wood.
In these two views, the reader has a fair account of the general
character of the Upper Missouri; and by turning back to +plate 39, Vol.
I.+, which I have already described, he will at once see the process by
which this wonderful formation has been produced. In that plate will be
seen the manner in which the rains are wearing down the clay-bluffs,
cutting gullies or sluices behind them, and leaving them at last to
stand out in relief, in these rounded and graceful forms, until in
time they get seeded over, and nourish a growth of green grass on their
sides, which forms a turf, and protects their surface, preserving them
for centuries, in the forms that are here seen. The tops of the highest
of these bluffs rise nearly up to the summit level of the prairies,
which is found as soon as one travels a mile or so from the river,
amongst these picturesque groups, and comes out at their top; from
whence the country goes off to the East and the West, with an almost
perfectly level surface.
[Illustration: 119]
[Illustration: 120]
These two views were taken about thirty miles above the village of
the Puncahs, and five miles above “the Tower;” the name given by the
travellers through the country, to a high and remarkable clay bluff,
rising to the height of some hundreds of feet from the water, and
having in distance, the castellated appearance of a fortification.
My canoe was not unmoored from the shores of this lovely spot for two
days, except for the purpose of crossing the river; which I several
times did, to ascend and examine the hills on the opposite side. I had
Ba’tiste and Bogard with me on the tops of these green carpeted bluffs,
and tried in vain to make them see the beauty of scenes that were
about us. They dropped asleep, and I strolled and contemplated alone;
clambering “_up one hill_” and sliding or running “_down another_,”
with no other living being in sight, save now and then a bristling
wolf, which, from my approach, was reluctantly retreating from his
shady lair—or sneaking behind me and smelling on my track.
Whilst strolling about on the western bank of the river at this place,
I found the ancient site of an Indian village, which from the character
of the marks, I am sure was once the residence of the Mandans. I said
in a former Letter, when speaking of the Mandans, that within the
recollection of some of their oldest men, they lived some sixty or
eighty miles down the river from the place of their present residence;
and that they then lived in nine villages. On my way down, I became
fully convinced of the fact; having landed my canoe, and examined the
ground where the foundation of every wigwam can yet be distinctly
seen. At that time, they must have been much more numerous than at
present, from the many marks they have left, as well as from their own
representations.
The Mandans have a peculiar way of building their wigwams, by digging
down a couple of feet in the earth, and there fixing the ends of the
poles which form the walls of their houses. There are other marks,
such as their caches—and also their mode of depositing their dead on
scaffolds—and of preserving the skulls in circles on the prairies;
which peculiar customs I have before described, and most of which
are distinctly to be recognized in each of these places, as well as
in several similar remains which I have met with on the banks of the
river, between here and the Mandans; which fully convince me, that
they have formerly occupied the lower parts of the Missouri, and have
gradually made their way quite through the heart of the great Sioux
country; and having been well fortified in all their locations, as in
their present one, by a regular stockade and ditch; they have been
able successfully to resist the continual assaults of the Sioux, that
numerous tribe, who have been, and still are, endeavouring to effect
their entire destruction. I have examined, at least fifteen or twenty
of their ancient locations on the banks of this river, and can easily
discover the regular differences in the ages of these antiquities; and
around them all I have found numerous bits of their broken pottery,
corresponding with that which they are now manufacturing in great
abundance; and which is certainly made by no other tribe in these
regions. These evidences, and others which I shall not take the time to
mention in this place, go a great way in my mind towards strengthening
the possibility of their having moved from the Ohio river, and of
their being a remnant of the followers of Madoc. I have much further
to trace them yet, however, and shall certainly have more to say on so
interesting a subject in future.
Almost every mile I have advanced on the banks of this river, I have
met evidences and marks of Indians in some form or other; and they have
generally been those of the Sioux, who occupy and own the greater part
of this immense region of country. In the latter part of my voyage,
however, and of which I have been speaking in the former part of this
Letter, I met the ancient sites of the O-ma-ha and Ot-to towns, which
are easily detected when they are met. In +plate+ 121 (letter +a+),
is seen the usual mode of the Omahas, of depositing their dead in the
crotches and on the branches of trees, enveloped in skins, and never
without a wooden dish hanging by the head of the corpse; probably for
the purpose of enabling it to dip up water to quench its thirst on the
long and tedious journey, which they generally expect to enter on after
death. These corpses are so frequent along the banks of the river, that
in some places a dozen or more of them may be seen at one view.
Letter +b+ in the same plate, shews the customs of the Sioux, which
are found in endless numbers on the river; and in fact, through every
part of this country. The wigwams of these people are only moveable
tents, and leave but a temporary mark to be discovered. Their burials,
however, are peculiar and lasting remains, which can be long detected.
They often deposit their dead on trees, and on scaffolds; but more
generally bury in the tops of bluffs, or near their villages; when they
often split out staves and drive in the ground around the grave, to
protect it from the trespass of dogs or wild animals.
Letter +c+ (same plate), shews the character of Mandan remains, that
are met with in numerous places on the river. Their mode of resting
their dead upon scaffolds is not so peculiar to them as positively to
distinguish them from Sioux, who sometimes bury in the same way; but
the excavations for their earth-covered wigwams, which I have said
are two feet deep in the ground, with the ends of the decayed timbers
remaining in them, are peculiar and conclusive evidence of their
being of Mandan construction; and the custom of leaving the skulls
bleached upon the ground in circles (as I have formerly described in
+plate 48, Vol. I.+), instead of burying them as the other tribes do,
forms also a strong evidence of the fact that they are Mandan remains.
[Illustration: 121]
[Illustration: 122]
In most of these sites of their ancient towns, however, I have been
unable to find about their burial places, these characteristic deposits
of the skulls; from which I conclude, that whenever they deliberately
moved to a different region, they buried the skulls out of respect to
the dead. I found, just back of one of these sites of their ancient
towns, however, and at least 500 miles below where they now live, the
same arrangement of skulls as that I described in +plate+ 48. They had
laid so long, however, exposed to the weather, that they were reduced
almost to a powder, except the teeth, which mostly seemed polished and
sound as ever. It seems that no human hands had dared to meddle with
the dead; and that even their enemies had respected them; for every
one, and there were at least two hundred in one circle, had mouldered
to chalk, in its exact relative position, as they had been placed in a
circle. In this case, I am of opinion that the village was besieged by
the Sioux, and entirely destroyed; or that the Mandans were driven off
without the power to stop and bury the bones of their dead.
_Belle Vue_ (+plate+ 122) is a lovely scene on the West bank of the
river, about nine miles above the mouth of the Platte, and is the
agency of Major Dougherty, one of the oldest and most effective agents
on our frontiers. This spot is, as I said, lovely in itself; but doubly
so to the eye of the weather-beaten _voyageur_ from the sources of
the Missouri, who steers his canoe in, to the shore, as I did, and
soon finds himself a welcome guest at the comfortable board of the
Major, with a table again to eat from—and that (not “_groaning_,” but)
_standing_ under the comfortable weight of meat and vegetable luxuries,
products of the labour of cultivating man. It was a pleasure to see
again, in this great wilderness, a civilized habitation; and still more
pleasant to find it surrounded with corn-fields, and potatoes, with
numerous fruit-trees, bending under the weight of their fruit—with
pigs and poultry, and kine; and what was best of all, to see the kind
and benevolent face, that never looked anything but welcome to the
half-starved guests, who throw themselves upon him from the North, from
the South, the East, or the West.
At this place I was in the country of the Pawnees, a numerous tribe,
whose villages are on the Platte river, and of whom I shall say more
anon. Major Dougherty has been for many years the agent for this
hostile tribe; and by his familiar knowledge of the Indian character,
and his strict honesty and integrity, he has been able to effect a
friendly intercourse with them, and also to attract the applause and
highest confidence of the world, as well as of the authorities who sent
him there.
An hundred miles above this, I passed a curious feature, called the
“Square Hills” (+plate+ 123). I landed my canoe, and went ashore, and
to their tops, to examine them. Though they appeared to be near the
river, I found it half a day’s journey to travel to and from them; they
being several miles from the river. On ascending them I found them to
be two or three hundred feet high, and rising on their sides at an
angle of 45 degrees; and on their tops, in some places, for half a
mile in length, perfectly level, with a green turf, and corresponding
exactly with the tabular hills spoken of above the Mandans, in +plate
39, Vol. I.+ I therein said, that I should visit these hills on my way
down the river; and I am fully convinced, from close examination, that
they are a part of the same original superstratum, which I therein
described, though seven or eight hundred miles separated from them.
They agree exactly in character, and also in the materials of which
they are composed; and I believe, that some unaccountable gorge of
waters has swept away the intervening earth, leaving these solitary
and isolated, though incontrovertible evidences, that the summit level
of all this great valley has at one time been where the level surface
of these hills now is, two or three hundred feet above what is now
generally denominated the summit level.
The mouth of the Platte (+plate+ 124), is a beautiful scene, and no
doubt will be the site of a large and flourishing town, soon after
Indian titles shall have been extinguished to the lands in these
regions, which will be done within a very few years. The Platte is
a long and powerful stream, pouring in from the Rocky Mountains and
joining with the Missouri at this place.
In this voyage, as in all others that I have performed, I kept my
journal, but I have not room, it will be seen, to insert more than an
occasional extract from it for my present purpose. In this voyage,
Ba’tiste and Bogard were my constant companions; and we all had our
rifles, and used them often. We often went ashore amongst the herds of
buffaloes, and were obliged to do so for our daily food. We lived the
whole way on buffaloes’ flesh and venison—we had no bread; but laid in
a good stock of coffee and sugar. These, however, from an unforeseen
accident availed us but little; as on the second or third day of our
voyage, after we had taken our coffee on the shore, and Ba’tiste and
Bogard had gone in pursuit of a herd of buffaloes, I took it in my
head to have an extra very fine dish of coffee to myself, as the fire
was fine. For this purpose, I added more coffee-grounds to the pot,
and placed it on the fire, which I sat watching, when I saw a fine
buffalo cow wending her way leisurely over the hills, but a little
distance from me, for whom I started at once, with my rifle trailed
in my hand; and after creeping, and running, and heading, and all
that, for half an hour, without getting a shot at her; I came back to
the encampment, where I found my two men with meat enough, but in the
most uncontroulable rage, for my coffee had all boiled out, and the
coffee-pot was melted to pieces!
This was truly a deplorable accident, and one that could in no
effectual way be remedied. We afterwards botched up a mess or two of
it in our frying-pan, but to little purpose, and then abandoned it to
Bogard alone, who thankfully received the dry coffee-grounds and
sugar, at his meals, which he soon entirely demolished.
[Illustration: 123]
[Illustration: 124]
We met immense numbers of buffaloes in the early part of our voyage and
used to land our canoe almost every hour in the day; and oftentimes all
together approach the unsuspecting herds, through some deep and hidden
ravine within a few rods of them, and at the word, “pull trigger,” each
of us bring down our victim (+plate+ 125).
In one instance, near the mouth of White River, we met the most immense
herd crossing the Missouri River—and from an imprudence got our boat
into imminent danger amongst them, from which we were highly delighted
to make our escape. It was in the midst of the “running season,” and
we had heard the “roaring” (as it is called) of the herd, when we
were several miles from them. When we came in sight, we were actually
terrified at the immense numbers that were streaming down the green
hills on one side of the river, and galloping up and over the bluffs
on the other. The river was filled, and in parts blackened, with their
heads and horns, as they were swimming about, following up their
objects, and making desperate battle whilst they were swimming.
I deemed it imprudent for our canoe to be dodging amongst them,
and ran it ashore for a few hours, where we laid, waiting for the
opportunity of seeing the river clear; but we waited in vain. Their
numbers, however, got somewhat diminished at last, and we pushed off,
and successfully made our way amongst them. From the immense numbers
that had passed the river at that place, they had torn down the prairie
bank of fifteen feet in height, so as to form a sort of road or
landing-place, where they all in succession clambered up. Many in their
turmoil had been wafted below this landing, and unable to regain it
against the swiftness of the current, had fastened themselves along in
crowds, hugging close to the high bank under which they were standing.
As we were drifting by these, and supposing ourselves out of danger, I
drew up my rifle and shot one of them in the head, which tumbled into
the water, and brought with him a hundred others, which plunged in,
and in a moment were swimming about our canoe, and placing it in great
danger (+plate+ 126). No attack was made upon us, and in the confusion
the poor beasts knew not, perhaps, the enemy that was amongst them; but
we were liable to be sunk by them, as they were furiously hooking and
climbing on to each other. I rose in my canoe, and by my gestures and
hallooing, kept them from coming in contact with us, until we were out
of their reach.
This was one of the instances that I formerly spoke of, where thousands
and tens of thousands of these animals congregate in the _running
season_, and move about from East and West, or wherever accident or
circumstances may lead them. In this grand crusade, no one can know the
numbers that may have made the ford within a few days; nor in their
blinded fury in such scenes, would feeble man be much respected.
During the remainder of that day we paddled onward, and passed many
of their carcasses floating on the current, or lodged on the heads of
islands and sand-bars. And, in the vicinity of, and not far below the
grand turmoil, we passed several that were mired in the quicksand near
the shores; some were standing fast and half immersed; whilst others
were nearly out of sight, and gasping for the last breath; others were
standing with all legs fast, and one half of their bodies above the
water, and their heads sunk under it, where they had evidently remained
several days; and flocks of ravens and crows were covering their backs,
and picking the flesh from their dead bodies.
So much of the Upper Missouri and its modes, at present; though I have
much more in store for some future occasion.
Fort Leavenworth, which is on the Lower Missouri, being below the mouth
of the Platte, is the nucleus of another neighbourhood of Indians,
amongst whom I am to commence my labours, and of whom I shall soon be
enabled to give some account. So, for the present, Adieu.
[Illustration: 125]
[Illustration: 126]
[1] Some months after writing the above, and after I had arrived
safe in St. Louis, the news reached there that the Dog had been
overtaken and killed, and a brother of his also, and the affair
thus settled. The portraits are in Vol. II. (+plates+ 273, 274, and
275), and the story there told.
LETTER—No. 33.
FORT LEAVENWORTH, _LOWER MISSOURI_.
I mentioned in a former epistle, that this is the extreme outpost on
the Western Frontier, and built, like several others, in the heart of
the Indian country. There is no finer tract of lands in North America,
or, perhaps, in the world, than that vast space of prairie country,
which lies in the vicinity of this post, embracing it on all sides.
This garrison, like many others on the frontiers, is avowedly placed
here for the purpose of protecting our frontier inhabitants from the
incursions of Indians; and also for the purpose of preserving the peace
amongst the different hostile tribes, who seem continually to wage, and
glory in, their deadly wars. How far these feeble garrisons, which are
generally but half manned, have been, or will be, able to intimidate
and controul the warlike ardour of these restless and revengeful
spirits; or how far they will be able in desperate necessity, to
protect the lives and property of the honest pioneer, is yet to be
tested.
They have doubtless been designed with the best views, to effect
the most humane objects, though I very much doubt the benefits that
are anticipated to flow from them, unless a more efficient number
of men are stationed in them than I have generally found; enough to
promise protection to the Indian, and then to _ensure_ it; instead of
promising, and leaving them to seek it in their own way at last, and
when they are least prepared to do it.
When I speak of this post as being on the _Lower Missouri_, I do not
wish to convey the idea that I am down near the sea-coast, at the mouth
of the river, or near it; I only mean that I am on the lower part of
the Missouri, yet 600 miles above its junction with the Mississippi,
and near 2000 from the Gulf of Mexico, into which the Mississippi
discharges its waters.
In this delightful Cantonment there are generally stationed six or
seven companies of infantry, and ten or fifteen officers; several
of whom have their wives and daughters with them, forming a very
pleasant little community, who are almost continually together in
social enjoyment of the peculiar amusements and pleasures of this
wild country. Of these pastimes they have many, such as riding on
horseback or in carriages over the beautiful green fields of the
prairies, picking strawberries and wild plums—deer chasing—grouse
shooting—horse-racing, and other amusements of the garrison, in which
they are almost constantly engaged; enjoying life to a very high
degree.
In these delightful amusements, and with these pleasing companions, I
have been for a while participating with great satisfaction; I have
joined several times in the deer-hunts, and more frequently in grouse
shooting, which constitutes the principal amusement of this place.
This delicious bird, which is found in great abundance in nearly all
the North American prairies, and most generally called the Prairie Hen,
is, from what I can learn, very much like the English grouse, or heath
hen, both in size, in colour, and in habits. They make their appearance
in these parts in the months of August and September, from the higher
latitudes, where they go in the early part of the summer, to raise
their broods. This is the season for the best sport amongst them; and
the whole garrison, in fact are almost subsisted on them at this time,
owing to the facility with which they are killed.
I was lucky enough the other day, with one of the officers of the
garrison, to gain the enviable distinction of having brought in
together seventy-five of these fine birds, which we killed in one
afternoon; and although I am quite ashamed to confess the manner in
which we killed the greater part of them, I am not so professed a
sportsman as to induce me to conceal the fact. We had a fine pointer,
and had legitimately followed the sportsman’s style for a part of the
afternoon; but seeing the prairies on fire several miles ahead of us,
and the wind driving the fire gradually towards us, we found these
poor birds driven before its long line, which seemed to extend from
horizon to horizon, and they were flying in swarms or flocks that
would at times almost fill the air. They generally flew half a mile or
so, and lit down again in the grass, where they would sit until the
fire was close upon them, and then they would rise again. We observed
by watching their motions, that they lit in great numbers in every
solitary tree; and we placed ourselves near each of these trees in
turn, and shot them down as they settled in them; sometimes killing
five or six at a shot, by getting a range upon them.
In this way we retreated for miles before the flames, in the midst of
the flocks, and keeping company with them where they were carried along
in advance of the fire, in accumulating numbers; many of which had been
driven along for many miles. We murdered the poor birds in this way,
until we had as many as we could well carry, and laid our course back
to the Fort, where we got much credit for our great shooting, and where
we were mutually pledged to keep the secret.
The prairies burning form some of the most beautiful scenes that are to
be witnessed in this country, and also some of the most sublime. Every
acre of these vast prairies (being covered for hundreds and hundreds of
miles, with a crop of grass, which dies and dries in the fall) burns
over during the fall or early in the spring, leaving the ground of a
black and doleful colour.
There are many modes by which the fire is communicated to them, both
by white men and by Indians—_par accident_; and yet many more where
it is voluntarily done for the purpose of getting a fresh crop of
grass, for the grazing of their horses, and also for easier travelling
during the next summer, when there will be no old grass to lie upon the
prairies, entangling the feet of man and horse, as they are passing
over them.
Over the elevated lands and prairie bluffs, where the grass is thin
and short, the fire slowly creeps with a feeble flame, which one can
easily step over (+plate+ 127); where the wild animals often rest in
their lairs until the flames almost burn their noses, when they will
reluctantly rise, and leap over it, and trot off amongst the cinders,
where the fire has past and left the ground as black as jet. These
scenes at night become indescribably beautiful, when their flames are
seen at many miles distance, creeping over the sides and tops of the
bluffs, appearing to be sparkling and brilliant chains of liquid fire
(the hills being lost to the view), hanging suspended in graceful
festoons from the skies.
But there is yet another character of burning prairies (+plate+ 128),
that requires another Letter, and a different pen to describe—the war,
or hell of fires! where the grass is seven or eight feet high, as is
often the case for many miles together, on the Missouri bottoms; and
the flames are driven forward by the hurricanes, which often sweep
over the vast prairies of this denuded country. There are many of
these meadows on the Missouri, the Platte, and the Arkansas, of many
miles in breadth, which are perfectly level, with a waving grass, so
high, that we are obliged to stand erect in our stirrups, in order to
look over its waving tops, as we are riding through it. The fire in
these, before such a wind, travels at an immense and frightful rate,
and often destroys, on their fleetest horses, parties of Indians,
who are so unlucky as to be overtaken by it; not that it travels as
fast as a horse at full speed, but that the high grass is filled with
wild pea-vines and other impediments, which render it necessary for
the rider to guide his horse in the zig-zag paths of the deers and
buffaloes, retarding his progress, until he is overtaken by the dense
column of smoke that is swept before the fire—alarming the horse, which
stops and stands terrified and immutable, till the burning grass which
is wafted in the wind, falls about him, kindling up in a moment a
thousand new fires, which are instantly wrapped in the swelling flood
of smoke that is moving on like a black thunder-cloud, rolling on the
earth, with its lightning’s glare, and its thunder rumbling as it goes.
* * * * * * * * When Ba’tiste, and Bogard, and I, and Patrick Raymond
(who like Bogard had been a free trapper in the Rocky Mountains), and
Pah-me-o-ne-qua (the red thunder), our guide back from a neighbouring
village, were jogging along on the summit of an elevated bluff,
overlooking an immense valley of high grass, through which we were
about to lay our course.—— * * * * * * * * *
“Well, then, you say you have seen the prairies on fire?” Yes. “You
have seen the fire on the mountains, and beheld it feebly creeping over
the grassy hills of the North, where the toad and the timid snail were
pacing from its approach—all this you have seen, and who has not? But
who has seen the vivid lightnings, and heard the roaring thunder of
the rolling conflagration which sweeps over the _deep-clad_ prairies
of the West? Who has dashed, on his wild horse, through an ocean of
grass, with the raging tempest at his back, rolling over the land
its swelling waves of liquid fire?” What! “Aye, even so. Ask the red
savage of the wilds what is awful and sublime—Ask him where the Great
Spirit has mixed up all the elements of death, and if he does not blow
them over the land in a storm of fire? Ask him what foe he has met,
that regarded not his frightening yells, or his sinewy bow? Ask these
lords of the land, who vauntingly challenge the thunder and lightning
of Heaven—whether there is not one foe that travels over their land,
too swift for their feet, and too mighty for their strength—at whose
approach their stout hearts sicken, and their strong-armed courage
withers to nothing? Ask him _again_ (if he is sullen, and his eyes set
in their sockets)—‘Hush!————sh!————sh!’—(he will tell you, with a soul
too proud to confess—his head sunk on his breast, and his hand over his
mouth)—‘that’s _medicine_!’” * * * * * * * * * * * *
I said to my comrades, as we were about to descend from the towering
bluffs into the prairie—“We will take that buffalo trail, where the
travelling herds have slashed down the high grass, and making for that
blue point, rising, as you can just discern, above this ocean of grass;
a good day’s work will bring us over this vast meadow before sunset.”
We entered the trail, and slowly progressed on our way, being obliged
to follow the winding paths of the buffaloes, for the grass was higher
than the backs of our horses. Soon after we entered, my Indian guide
dismounted slowly from his horse, and lying prostrate on the ground,
with his face in the dirt, he _cried_, and was talking to the Spirits
of the brave—“For,” said he, “over this beautiful plain dwells the
Spirit of fire! he rides in yonder cloud—his face blackens with rage
at the sound of the trampling hoofs—the _fire-bow_ is in his hand—he
draws it across the path of the Indian, and quicker than lightning, a
thousand flames rise to destroy him; such is the talk of my fathers,
and the ground is whitened with their bones. It was here,” said he,
“that the brave son of Wah-chee-ton, and the strong-armed warriors of
his band, just twelve moons since, licked the fire from the blazing
wand of that great magician. Their pointed spears were drawn upon the
backs of the treacherous Sioux, whose swifter-flying horses led them,
in vain, to the midst of this valley of death. A circular cloud sprang
up from the prairie around them! it was raised, and their doom was
fixed by the Spirit of fire! It was on this vast plain of _fire-grass_
that waves over our heads, that the swift foot of Mah-to-ga was laid.
It is here, also, that the fleet-bounding wild horse mingles his bones
with the red man; and the eagle’s wing is melted as he darts over
its surface. Friends! it is the season of fire; and I fear, from the
smell of the wind, that the Spirit is awake!”
[Illustration: 128]
[Illustration: 127]
Pah-me-o-ne-qua said no more, but mounted his wild horse, and waving
his hand, his red shoulders were seen rapidly vanishing as he glided
through the thick mazes of waving grass. We were on his trail, and
busily traced him until the midday-sun had brought us to the ground,
with our refreshments spread before us. He partook of them not, but
stood like a statue, while his black eyes, in sullen silence, swept the
horizon round; and then, with a deep-drawn sigh, he gracefully sunk to
the earth, and laid with his face to the ground. Our buffalo _tongues_
and pemican, and marrow-fat, were spread before us; and we were in the
full enjoyment of these dainties of the Western world, when, quicker
than the frightened elk, our Indian friend sprang upon his feet! His
eyes skimmed again slowly over the prairies’ surface, and he laid
himself as before on the ground.
“Red Thunder seems sullen to-day,” said Bogard—“he startles at every
rush of the wind, and scowls at the whole world that is about him.”
“There’s a rare chap for you—a fellow who would shake his fist at
Heaven, when he is at home; and here, in a _grass-patch_, must make his
_fire-medicine_ for a _circumstance_ that he could easily leave at a
shake of his horse’s heels.”
“Not sae sure o’ that, my hooney, though we’ll not be making too
lightly of the matter, nor either be frightened at the mon’s strange
octions. But, Bogard, I’ll tell ye in a ’ord (and thot’s enough),
there’s something more than odds in all this ‘_medicine_.’ If this
mon’s a fool, he was born out of his own country, that’s all—and if
the divil iver gits him, he must take him cowld, for he is too swift
and too wide-awake to be taken alive—you understond thot, I suppouse?
But, to come to the plain matter—supposin that the Fire Spirit (and I
go for somewhat of witchcraft), I say supposin that this _Fire Spirit_
should jist impty his pipe on tother side of this prairie, and strike
up a bit of a blaze in this high grass, and send it packing across in
this direction, before sich a death of a wind as this is! By the _bull
barley_, I’ll bet you’d be after ‘_making medicine_,’ and taking a bit
of it, too, to get rid of the racket.”
“Yes, but you see, Patrick——”
“Neever mind thot (not wishin to distarb you); and suppouse the blowin
wind was coming fast ahead, jist blowin about our ears a warld of smoke
and chokin us to dith, and we were dancin about a _Varginny reel_ among
these little paths, where the divil would we be by the time we got to
that bluff, for it’s now fool of a distance? Givin you time to spake,
I would say a word more (askin your pardon), I know by the expression
of your face, mon, you neever have seen the world on fire yet, and
therefore you know nothin at all of a _hurly burly_ of this kind—did
ye?—did ye iver see (and I jist want to know), did ye iver see the
fire in high-grass, runnin with a strong wind, about five mile and the
half, and thin hear it strike into a _slash_ of _dry_ cane brake!! I
would jist ax you that? By thuneder you niver have—for your eyes would
jist stick out of your head at the thought of it! Did ye iver look
way into the backside of Mr. Maelzel’s Moscow, and see the flashin
flames a runnin up; and then hear the poppin of the _militia fire_ jist
afterwards? then you have jist a touch of it! ye’re jist beginnin—ye
may talk about fires—but this is sich a _baste of a fire_! Ask _Jack
Sanford_, he’s a chop that can tall you all aboot it. Not wishin
to distarb you, I would say a word more—and that is this—If I were
advisin, I would say that we are gettin too far into this imbustible
meadow; for the grass is dry, and the wind is too strong to make a
light matter of, at this sason of the year; an now I’ll jist tell ye
how M‘Kenzie and I were sarved in this very place about two years ago;
and he’s a worldly chop, and niver aslape, my word for that————hollo,
what’s that!”
_Red Thunder_ was on his feet!—his long arm was stretched over the
grass, and his blazing eye-balls starting from their sockets! “White
man (said he), see ye that small cloud lifting itself from the prairie?
he rises! the hoofs of our horses have waked him! The _Fire Spirit_ is
awake—this wind is from his nostrils, and his face is this way!” No
more—but his swift horse darted under him, and he gracefully slid over
the waving grass as it was bent by the wind. Our viands were left, and
we were swift on his trail. The extraordinary leaps of his wild horse,
occasionally raised his red shoulders to view, and he sank again in the
waving billows of grass. The tremulous wind was hurrying by us fast,
and on it was borne the agitated wing of the soaring eagle. His neck
was stretched for the towering bluff, and the thrilling screams of his
voice told the secret that was behind him. Our horses were swift, and
we struggled hard, yet hope was feeble, for the bluff was yet _blue_,
and nature nearly exhausted! The sunshine was _dying_, and a cool
shadow advancing over the plain. Not daring to look back, we strained
every nerve. The roar of a distant cataract seemed gradually advancing
on us—the winds increased, the howling tempest was maddening behind
us—and the swift-winged _beetle_ and _heath hens_, instinctively drew
their straight lines over our heads. The fleet-bounding antelope passed
us also; and the _still swifter_ long-legged hare, who leaves but a
shadow as he flies! Here was no time for thought—but I recollect the
heavens were overcast—the distant thunder was heard—the lightning’s
glare was reddening the scene—and the smell that came on the winds
struck terror to my soul! * * * * The piercing yell of my savage guide
at this moment came back upon the winds—his robe was seen waving in the
air, and his foaming horse leaping up the towering bluff.
Our breath and our sinews, in this last struggle for life, were just
enough to bring us to its summit. We had risen from a _sea of fire_!
“Great God! (I exclaimed) how sublime to gaze into that valley, where
the elements of nature are so strangely convulsed!” Ask not the poet or
painter how it looked, for they can tell you not; but ask the _naked
savage_, and watch the electric twinge of his manly nerves and muscles,
as he pronounces the lengthened “hush——sh————” his hand on his mouth,
and his glaring eye-balls looking you to the very soul!
I beheld beneath me an immense cloud of black smoke, which extended
from one extremity of this vast plain to the other, and seemed
majestically to roll over its surface in a bed of liquid fire; and
above this mighty desolation, as it rolled along, the whitened smoke,
pale with terror, was streaming and rising up in magnificent cliffs to
heaven!
I stood _secure_, but tremblingly, and heard the maddening wind, which
hurled this _monster_ o’er the land—I heard the roaring thunder, and
saw its thousand lightnings flash; and then I saw _behind_, the black
and smoking desolation of this _storm_ of _fire_!
LETTER—No. 34.
FORT LEAVENWORTH, _LOWER MISSOURI_.
Since writing the last epistle, some considerable time has elapsed,
which has, nevertheless, been filled up and used to advantage,
as I have been moving about and using my brush amongst different
tribes in this vicinity. The Indians that may be said to belong
to this vicinity, and who constantly visit this post, are the
Ioways—Konzas—Pawnees—Omahas—Ottoes, and Missouries (primitive), and
Delawares—Kickapoos—Potawatomies—Weahs—Peorias—Shawanos, Kaskaskias
(semi-civilized remnants of tribes that have been removed to this
neighbourhood by the Government, within the few years past). These
latter-named tribes are, to a considerable degree, agriculturalists;
getting their living principally by ploughing, and raising corn, and
cattle and horses. They have been left on the frontier, surrounded by
civilized neighbours, where they have at length been induced to sell
out their lands, or exchange them for a much larger tract of wild lands
in these regions, which the Government has purchased from the wilder
tribes.
Of the first named, the Ioways may be said to be the farthest
departed from primitive modes, as they are depending chiefly on their
corn-fields for subsistence; though their appearance, both in their
dwellings and personal looks, dress, modes, &c., is that of the
primitive Indian.
The Ioways are a small tribe, of about fourteen hundred persons, living
in a snug little village within a few miles of the eastern bank of the
Missouri River, a few miles above this place.
The present chief of this tribe is Notch-ee-ning-a (the white cloud,
+plate+ 129), the son of a very distinguished chief of the same name,
who died recently, after gaining the love of his tribe, and the respect
of all the civilized world who knew him. If my time and space will
admit it, and I should not forget it, I shall take another occasion to
detail some of the famous transactions of his signal life.
The son of White Cloud, who is now chief, and whose portrait I have
just named, was tastefully dressed with a buffalo robe, wrapped around
him, with a necklace of grizzly bear’s claws on his neck; with shield,
bow, and quiver on, and a profusion of wampum strings on his neck.
_Wy-ee-yogh_ (the man of sense, +plate+ 130), is another of this tribe,
much distinguished for his bravery and early warlike achievements. His
head was dressed with a broad silver band passing around it, and decked
out with the crest of horsehair.
[Illustration: 129 130]
[Illustration: 131 132]
Pah-ta-coo-che (the shooting cedar, +plate+ 131), and Was-com-mun
(the busy man, +plate+ 132), are also distinguished warriors of the
tribe; tastefully dressed and equipped, the one with his war-club on
his arm, the other with bow and arrows in his hand; both wore around
their waists beautiful buffalo robes, and both had turbans made of
vari-coloured cotton shawls, purchased of the Fur Traders. Around their
necks were necklaces of the bears’ claws, and a profusion of beads and
wampum. Their ears were profusely strung with beads; and their naked
shoulders curiously streaked and daubed with red paint.
Others of this tribe will be found amongst the paintings in my Indian
Museum; and more of them and their customs given at a future time.
The Konzas, of 1560 souls, reside at the distance of sixty or eighty
miles from this place, on the Konzas River, fifty miles above its union
with the Missouri, from the West.
This tribe has undoubtedly sprung from the Osages, as their personal
appearance, language and traditions clearly prove. They are living
adjoining to the Osages at this time, and although a kindred people,
have sometimes deadly warfare with them. The present chief of this
tribe is known by the name of the “White Plume;” a very urbane and
hospitable man, of good portly size, speaking some English, and making
himself good company for all white persons who travel through his
country and have the good luck to shake his liberal and hospitable hand.
It has been to me a source of much regret, that I did not get the
portrait of this celebrated chief; but I have painted several others
distinguished in the tribe, which are fair specimens of these people.
Sho-me-cos-se (the wolf, +plate+ 133), a chief of some distinction,
with a bold and manly outline of head; exhibiting, like most of this
tribe, an European outline of features, signally worthy the notice
of the enquiring world. The head of this chief was most curiously
ornamented, and his neck bore a profusion of wampum strings.
Meach-o-shin-gaw (the little white bear, +plate+ 134). Chesh-oo-hong-ha
(the man of good sense, +plate+ 135), and Wa-hon-ga-shee (no fool,
+plate+ 136), are portraits of distinguished Konzas, and all furnish
striking instances of the bold and Roman outline that I have just
spoken of.
The custom of shaving the head, and ornamenting it with the crest
of deer’s hair, belongs to this tribe; and also to the Osages, the
Pawnees, the Sacs, and Foxes, and Ioways, and to no other tribe that
I know of; unless it be in some few instances, where individuals have
introduced it into their tribes, merely by way of imitation.
With these tribes, the custom is one uniformly adhered to by every man
in the nation; excepting some few instances along the frontier, where
efforts are made to imitate white men, by allowing the hair to grow out.
In +plate+ 135, is a fair exhibition of this very curious custom—the
hair being cut as close to the head as possible, except a tuft the
size of the palm of the hand, on the crown of the head, which is
left of two inches in length: and in the centre of which is fastened
a beautiful crest made of the hair of the deer’s tail (dyed red) and
horsehair, and oftentimes surmounted with the war-eagle’s quill. In
the centre of the patch of hair, which I said was left of a couple
of inches in length, is preserved a small lock, which is never cut,
but cultivated to the greatest length possible, and uniformly kept in
braid, and passed through a piece of curiously carved bone; which lies
in the centre of the crest, and spreads it out to its uniform shape,
which they study with great care to preserve. Through this little
braid, and outside of the bone, passes a small wooden or bone key,
which holds the crest to the head. This little braid is called in these
tribes, the “_scalp-lock_,” and is scrupulously preserved in this way,
and offered to their enemy if they can get it, as a trophy; which it
seems in all tribes they are anxious to yield to their conquerors,
in case they are killed in battle; and which it would be considered
cowardly and disgraceful for a warrior to shave off, leaving nothing
for his enemy to grasp for, when he falls into his hands in the events
of battle.
Amongst those tribes who thus shave and ornament their heads, the crest
is uniformly blood-red; and the upper part of the head, and generally
a considerable part of the face, as red as they can possibly make it
with vermilion. I found these people cutting off the hair with small
scissors, which they purchase of the Fur Traders; and they told me that
previous to getting scissors, they cut it away with their knives; and
before they got knives, they were in the habit of burning it off with
red hot stones, which was a very slow and painful operation.
With the exception of these few, all the other tribes in North America
cultivate the hair to the greatest length they possibly can; preserving
it to flow over their shoulders and backs in great profusion, and quite
unwilling to spare the smallest lock of it for any consideration.
The Pawnees are a very powerful and warlike nation, living on the river
Platte, about one hundred miles from its junction with the Missouri;
laying claim to, and exercising sway over, the whole country, from its
mouth to the base of the Rocky Mountains.
The present number of this tribe is ten or twelve thousand; about one
half the number they had in 1832, when that most appalling disease, the
small-pox, was accidentally introduced amongst them by the Fur Traders,
and whiskey sellers; when ten thousand (or more) of them perished in
the course of a few months.
The Omahas, of fifteen hundred; the Ottoes of six hundred; and
Missouries of four hundred, who are now living under the protection and
surveillance of the Pawnees, and in the immediate vicinity of them,
were all powerful tribes, but so reduced by this frightful disease,
and at the same time, that they were unable longer to stand against
so formidable enemies as they had around them, in the Sioux, Pawnees,
Sacs, and Foxes, and at last merged into the Pawnee tribe, under
whose wing and protection they now live.
[Illustration: 133 134]
[Illustration: 135 136]
The period of this awful calamity in these regions, was one that will
be long felt, and long preserved in the traditions of these people. The
great tribe of the Sioux, of whom I have heretofore spoken, suffered
severely with the same disease; as well as the Osages and Konzas; and
particularly the unfortunate Puncahs, who were almost extinguished by
it.
The destructive ravages of this most fatal disease amongst these poor
people, who know of no specific for it, is beyond the knowledge, and
almost beyond the belief, of the civilized world. Terror and dismay
are carried with it; and awful despair, in the midst of which they
plunge into the river, when in the highest state of fever, and die in a
moment; or dash themselves from precipices; or plunge their knives to
their hearts, to rid themselves from the pangs of slow and disgusting
death.
Amongst the formidable tribe of Pawnees, the Fur Traders are yet doing
some business; but, from what I can learn, the Indians are dealing
with some considerable distrust, with a people who introduced so fatal
a calamity amongst them, to which one half of their tribe have fallen
victims. The Traders made their richest harvest amongst these people,
before this disease broke out; and since it subsided, quite a number
of their lives have paid the forfeit, according to the Indian laws of
retribution.[2]
The Pawnees have ever been looked upon, as a very warlike and hostile
tribe; and unusually so, since the calamity which I have mentioned.
Major Dougherty, of whom I have heretofore spoken, has been for
several years their agent; and by his unremitted endeavours, with
an unequalled familiarity with the Indian character, and unyielding
integrity of purpose, has successfully restored and established,
a system of good feeling and respect between them and the “pale
faces,” upon whom they looked, naturally and experimentally, as their
destructive enemies.
Of this stern and uncompromising friend of the red man, and of justice,
who has taken them close to his heart, and familiarized himself with
their faults and their griefs, I take great pleasure in recording here
for the perusal of the world, the following extract from one of his
true and independent Reports, to the Secretary at War; which sheds
honour on his name, and deserves a more public place than the mere
official archives of a Government record.
“In comparing this Report with those of the years preceding, you will
find there has been little improvement on the part of the Indians,
either in literary acquirements or in agricultural knowledge.
“It is my decided opinion, that, so long as the Fur Traders and
trappers are permitted to reside among the Indians, all the efforts
of the Government to better their condition will be fruitless; or, in
a great measure checked by the strong influence of those men over the
various tribes.
“Every exertion of the agents, (and other persons, intended to carry
into effect the views of the Government, and humane societies,) are
in such direct opposition to the Trader and his interest, that the
agent finds himself continually contending with, and placed in direct
and immediate contrariety of interest to the Fur Traders or grossly
neglecting his duty by overlooking acts of impropriety; and it is a
curious and melancholy fact, that while the General Government is using
every means and expense to promote the advancement of those aboriginal
people, it is at the same time suffering the Traders to oppose and
defeat the very objects of its intentions. So long as the Traders and
trappers are permitted in the Indian country, the introduction of
spirituous liquors will be inevitable, under any penalty the law may
require; and until its prohibition is certain and effectual, every
effort of Government, through the most faithful and indefatigable
agents, will be useless. It would be, in my humble opinion, better to
give up every thing to the Traders, and let them have the sole and
entire control of the Indians, than permit them to contend at every
point, with the views of the Government; and that contention made
manifest, even to the most ignorant Indian.
“While the agent is advising the Indians to give up the chase and
settle themselves, with a view to agricultural pursuits, the Traders
are urging them on in search of skins.
“Far be it from me to be influenced or guided by improper or personal
feeling, in the execution of my duty; but, Sir, I submit my opinion to
a candid world, in relation to the subject, and feel fully convinced
you will be able to see at once the course which will ever place the
Indian Trader, and the present policy of Government, in relation to the
Indians, at eternal war.
[Illustration: 138]
[Illustration: 139]
[Illustration: 140]
[Illustration: 141]
[Illustration: 143]
[Illustration: 144]
“The missionaries sent amongst the several tribes are, no doubt,
sincere in their intentions. I believe them to be so, from what I
have seen; but, unfortunately, they commence their labours where they
should end them. They should teach the Indians to work, by establishing
schools of that description among them; induce them to live at home,
abandon their restless and unsettled life, and live independent of the
chase. After they are taught this, their intellectual faculties would
be more susceptible of improvement of a moral and religious nature; and
their steps towards civilization would become less difficult.”
The Pawnees are divided into four bands, or families—designated by the
names of Grand Pawnees—Tappage Pawnees—Republican Pawnees, and Wolf
Pawnees.
Each of these bands has a chief at its head; which chiefs, with all the
nation, acknowledge a superior chief at whose voice they all move.
At the head of the Grand Pawnees, is _Shon-ka-ki-he-ga_ (the horse
chief, +plate+ 138); and by the side of him, _Haw-che-ke-sug-ga_ (he
who kills the Osages, +plate+ 139), the aged chief of the Missouries,
of whom I have spoken, and shall yet say more.
_La-doo-ke-a_ (the buffalo bull, +plate+ 140), with his _medicine_ or
_totem_ (the head of a buffalo) painted on his breast and his face,
with bow and arrows in his hands, is a warrior of great distinction in
the same band.
_Le-shaw-loo-lah-le-hoo_ (the big elk, +plate+ 141), chief of the Wolf
Pawnees, is another of the most distinguished of this tribe.
In addition to the above, I have also painted of this tribe,
for my Museum, _Ah-shaw-wah-rooks-te_ (the medicine horse);
_La-kee-too-wi-ra-sha_ (the little chief); _Loo-ra-we-re-coo_ (the
bird that goes to war); _Ah-sha-la-couts-a_ (mole in the forehead);
_La-shaw-le-staw-hix_ (the man chief); _Te-ah-ke-ra-le-re-coo_
(the Chayenne); _Lo-loch-to-hoo-la_ (the big chief);
_La-wah-ee-coots-la-shaw-no_ (the brave chief); and _L’har-e-tar-rushe_
(the ill-natured man).
The Pawnees live in four villages, some few miles apart, on the banks
of the Platte river, having their allies the Omahas and Ottoes so near
to them as easily to act in concert, in case of invasion from any other
tribe; and from the fact that half or more of them are supplied with
guns and ammunition, they are able to withstand the assaults of any
tribe that may come upon them.
Of the Ottoes, _No-way-ke-sug-ga_ (he who strikes two at once, +plate+
143); and _Raw-no-way-woh-krah_ (the loose pipe-stem, +plate+ 144),
I have painted at full length, in beautiful costumes—the first with
a necklace of grizzly bear’s claws, and his dress profusely fringed
with scalp-locks; the second, in a tunic made of the entire skin of a
grizzly bear, with a head-dress of the war-eagle’s quills.
Besides these, I painted, also, _Wah-ro-nee-sah_ (the surrounder);
_Non-je-ning-a_ (no heart); and _We-ke-ru-law_ (he who exchanges).
Of the Omahas, _Ki-ho-ga-waw-shu-shee_ (the brave chief, +plate+ 145),
is the head chief; and next to him in standing and reputation, is
_Om-pa-ton-ga_ (the big elk, +plate+ 146), with his tomahawk in his
hand, and his face painted black, for war.
Besides these, I painted _Man-ska-qui-ta_ (the little soldier), a
brave; _Shaw-da-mon-nee_ (there he goes); and _Nom-ba-mon-nee_ (the
double walker).
Of these wild tribes I have much more in store to say in future, and
shall certainly make another budget of Letters from this place, or from
other regions from whence I may wish to write, and _possibly, lack
material_! All of these tribes, as well as the numerous semi-civilized
remnants of tribes, that have been thrown out from the borders of
our settlements, have missionary establishments and schools, as well
as agricultural efforts amongst them; and will furnish valuable
evidence as to the success that those philanthropic and benevolent
exertions have met with, contending (as they have had to do) with the
contaminating influences of whiskey-sellers, and other mercenary men,
catering for their purses and their unholy appetites.
[Illustration: 145]
[Illustration: 146]
[2] Since the above was written, I have had the very great pleasure
of reading the notes of the Honourable Charles A. Murray, (who was
for several months a guest amongst the Pawnees), and also of being
several times a fellow-traveller with him in America; and at last
a debtor to him for his signal kindness and friendship in London.
Mr. Murray’s account of the Pawnees, as far as he saw them, is
without doubt drawn with great fidelity, and he makes them out a
pretty bad set of fellows. As I have before mentioned, there is
probably not another tribe on the Continent, that has been more
abused and incensed by the system of trade, and money-making, than
the Pawnees; and the Honourable Mr. Murray, with his companion,
made his way boldly into the heart of their country, without guide
or interpreter, and I consider at great hazard to his life: and,
from all the circumstances, I have been ready to congratulate him
on getting out of their country as well as he did.
I mentioned in a former page, the awful destruction of this tribe
by the small-pox; a few years previous to which, some one of the
Fur Traders visited a threat upon these people, that if they did
not comply with some condition, “he would let the small-pox out of
a bottle and destroy the whole of them.” The pestilence has since
been introduced accidentally amongst them by the Traders; and the
standing tradition of the tribe now is, that “the Traders opened a
bottle and let it out to destroy them.” Under such circumstances,
from amongst a people who have been impoverished by the system of
trade, without any body to protect him, I cannot but congratulate
my Honourable friend for his peaceable retreat, where others before
him have been less fortunate; and regret at the same time, that
he could not have been my companion to some others of the remote
tribes.
LETTER—No. 35.
ST. LOUIS, _MISSOURI_.
My little bark has been soaked in the water again, and Ba’tiste and
Bogard have paddled, and I have steered and dodged our little craft
amongst the snags and sawyers, until at last we landed the humble
little thing amongst the huge steamers and floating palaces at the
wharf of this bustling and growing city.
And first of all, I must relate the fate of my little boat, which had
borne us safe over two thousand miles of the Missouri’s turbid and
boiling current, with no fault, excepting two or three instances, when
the waves became too saucy, she, like the best of boats of her size,
went to the bottom, and left us soused, to paddle our way to the shore,
and drag out our things and dry them in the sun.
When we landed at the wharf, my luggage was all taken out, and removed
to my hotel; and when I returned a few hours afterwards, to look for my
little boat, to which I had contracted a peculiar attachment (although
I had left it in special charge of a person at work on the wharf); some
_mystery_ or _medicine_ operation had relieved me from any further
anxiety or trouble about it—it had gone and never returned, although it
had safely passed the countries of mysteries, and had often laid weeks
and months at the villages of red men, with no laws to guard it; and
where it had also often been taken out of the water by _mystery-men_,
and carried up the bank, and turned against my wigwam; and by them
again safely carried to the river’s edge, and put afloat upon the
water, when I was ready to take a seat in it.
St. Louis, which is 1400 miles west of New York, is a flourishing
town, of 15,000 inhabitants, and destined to be the great emporium of
the West—the greatest inland town in America. Its location is on the
Western bank of the Mississippi river, twenty miles below the mouth of
the Missouri, and 1400 above the entrance of the Mississippi into the
Gulf of Mexico.
This is the great depôt of all the Fur Trading Companies to the Upper
Missouri and Rocky Mountains, and their starting-place; and also for
the Santa Fe, and other Trading Companies, who reach the Mexican
borders overland, to trade for silver bullion, from the extensive mines
of that rich country.
I have also made it _my_ starting-point, and place of deposit, to which
I send from different quarters, my packages of paintings and Indian
articles, minerals, fossils, &c., as I collect them in various regions,
here to be stored till my return; and where on my _last return_, if I
ever make it, I shall hustle them altogether, and remove them to the
East.
To this place I had transmitted by steamer and other conveyance, about
twenty boxes and packages at different times, as my note-book shewed;
and I have, on looking them up and enumerating them, been lucky enough
to recover and recognize about fifteen of the twenty, which is a pretty
fair proportion for this wild and desperate country, and the very
_conscientious hands_ they often are doomed to pass through.
Ba’tiste and Bogard (poor fellows) I found, after remaining here a few
days, had been about as unceremoniously snatched off, as my little
canoe; and Bogard, in particular, as he had made show of a few hundred
dollars, which he had saved of his hard earnings in the Rocky Mountains.
He came down with a liberal heart, which he had learned in an Indian
life of ten years, with a strong taste, which he had acquired, for
whiskey, in a country where it was sold for twenty dollars per gallon;
and with an independent feeling, which illy harmonized with rules and
regulations of a country of laws; and the consequence soon was, that by
the “Hawk and Buzzard” system, and Rocky Mountain liberality, and Rocky
Mountain prodigality, the poor fellow was soon “jugged up;” where he
could deliberately dream of beavers, and the free and cooling breezes
of the mountain air, without the pleasure of setting his trap for the
one, or even indulging the hope of ever again having the pleasure of
breathing the other.
I had imbibed rather less of these delightful passions in the Indian
country, and consequently indulged less in them when I came back; and
of course, was rather more fortunate than poor Bogard, whose feelings
I soothed as far as it laid in my power, and prepared to “lay my
course” to the South, with colours and canvass in readiness for another
campaign.
In my sojourn in St. Louis, amongst many other kind and congenial
friends whom I met, I have had daily interviews with the venerable
Governor Clark, whose whitened locks are still shaken in roars of
laughter, and good jests among the numerous citizens, who all love him,
and continually rally around him in his hospitable mansion.
Governor Clark, with Captain Lewis, were the first explorers across the
Rocky Mountains, and down the Colombia to the Pacific Ocean thirty-two
years ago; whose tour has been published in a very interesting work,
which has long been before the world. My works and my design have
been warmly approved and applauded by this excellent patriarch of the
Western World; and kindly recommended by him in such ways as have been
of great service to me. Governor Clark is now Superintendent of Indian
Affairs for all the Western and North Western regions; and surely,
their interests could never have been intrusted to better or abler
hands.[3]
So long have I been recruiting, and enjoying the society of friends in
this town, that the navigation of the river has suddenly closed, being
entirely frozen over; and the earth’s surface covered with eighteen
inches of drifting snow, which has driven me to the only means, and I
start in a day or two, with a tough little pony and a packhorse, to
trudge through the snow drifts from this to New Madrid, and perhaps
further; a distance of three or four hundred miles to the South—where
I must venture to meet a warmer climate—the river open, and steamers
running, to waft me to the Gulf of Mexico. Of the fate or success
that waits me, or of the incidents of that travel, as they have not
transpired, I can as yet say nothing; and I close my book for further
time and future entries.
[3] Some year or two after writing the above, I saw the
announcement of the death of this veteran, whose life has been
one of faithful service to his country, and, at the same time, at
strictest fidelity as the guardian and friend of the red men.
LETTER—No. 36.
PENSACOLA, _WEST FLORIDA_.
From my long silence of late, you will no doubt have deemed me out of
the _civil_ and perhaps out of the _whole world_.
I have, to be sure, been a great deal of the time _out of the limits_
of one and, at times, nearly _out of_ the other. Yet I am _living_,
and hold in my possession a number of epistles which passing events
had dictated, but which I neglected to transmit at the proper season.
In my headlong transit through the Southern tribes of Indians, I have
“_popped out_” of the woods upon this glowing land, and I cannot
forego the pleasure of letting you into a few of the secrets of this
delightful place.
“_Flos—floris_,” &c. every body knows the meaning of; and _Florida_,
in Spanish, is a country of flowers.—_Perdido_ is _perdition_, and Rio
Perdido, _River_ of _Perdition_. Looking down its perpendicular banks
into its black water, its depth would seem to be _endless_, and the
doom of the unwary to be gloomy in the extreme. Step not accidentally
or wilfully over its fatal brink, and Nature’s opposite extreme is
spread about you. You are _literally_ in the land of the “cypress and
myrtle”—where the ever-green live oak and lofty magnolia dress the
forest in a perpetual mantle of green.
The sudden transition from the ice-bound regions of the North to this
mild climate, in the midst of winter, is one of peculiar pleasure. At a
half-way of the distance, one’s cloak is thrown aside; and arrived on
the ever-verdant borders of Florida, the bosom is opened and bared to
the soft breeze from the ocean’s wave, and the congenial warmth of a
summer’s sun.
Such is the face of Nature here in the rude month of February;
green peas are served on the table—other garden vegetables in great
perfection, and garden flowers, as well as wild, giving their full and
sweetest perfume to the winds.
I looked into the deep and bottomless _Perdido_, and beheld about
it the thousand charms which Nature has spread to allure the unwary
traveller to its brink. ’Twas not enough to entangle him in a web of
sweets upon its borders, but _Nature_ seems to have used an _art_ to
draw him to its _bottom_, by the voluptuous buds which blossom under
its black waters, and whose vivid colours are softened and enriched the
deeper they are seen below its surface. The sweetest of wild flowers
enamel the shores and spangle the dark green tapestry which hangs
over its bosom—the stately _magnolia_ towers fearlessly over its black
waters, and sheds (with the myrtle and jessamine) the richest perfume
over this chilling pool of death.
How exquisitely pure and sweet are the delicate tendrils which Nature
has hung over these scenes of melancholy and gloom! and how strong,
also, has she fixed in man’s breast the passion to possess and enjoy
them! I could have hung by the tree tops over that fatal stream, or
blindly staggered over its thorny brink to have culled the sweets which
are found only in its bosom; but the _poisonous fang_, I was told, was
continually aimed at my heel, and I left the sweetened atmosphere of
its dark and gloomy, yet enamelled shores.
Florida is, in a great degree, a dark and sterile wilderness, yet
with spots of beauty and of loveliness, with charms that cannot be
forgotten. Her swamps and everglades, the dens of alligators, and
lurking places of the desperate savage, gloom the thoughts of the wary
traveller, whose mind is cheered and lit to admiration, when in the
solitary pine woods, where he hears nought but the echoing notes of
the _sand-hill cranes_, or the howling wolf, he suddenly breaks out
into the open savannahs, teeming with their myriads of wild flowers,
and palmettos (+plate+ 147); or where the winding path through which
he is wending his lonely way, suddenly brings him out upon the beach,
where the rolling sea has thrown up her thousands of hills and mounds
of sand as white as the drifted snow, over which her green waves are
lashing, and sliding back again to her deep green and agitated bosom
(+plate+ 148). This sketch was made on _Santa Rosa Island_, within
a few miles of Pensacola, of a favourite spot for _tea_ (and other
convivial) _parties_, which are often held there. The hills of sand
are as _purely white as snow_, and fifty or sixty feet in height, and
supporting on their tops, and in their sides, clusters of magnolia
bushes—of myrtle—of palmetto and heather, all of which are evergreens,
forming the most vivid contrast with the snow-white sand in which they
are growing. On the beach a family of Seminole Indians are encamped,
catching and drying red fish, their chief article of food.
I have traversed the snow-white shores of Pensacola’s beautiful bay,
and I said to myself, “Is it possible that Nature has done so much
in vain—or will the wisdom of man lead him to add to such works the
embellishments of art, and thus convert to his own use and enjoyment
the greatest luxuries of life?” As a travelling stranger through the
place, I said “yes: it must be so.” Nature has here formed the finest
harbour in the world; and the dashing waves of the ocean have thrown
around its shores the purest barriers of sand, as white as the drifted
snow. Unlike all other Southern ports, it is surrounded by living
fountains of the purest water, and its shores continually fanned by the
refreshing breathings of the sea. To a Northern man, the winters in
this place appear like a continual spring time; and the intensity of a
summer’s sun is cooled into comfort and luxury by the ever-cheering sea
breeze.
This is the only place I have found in the Southern country to which
Northern people can repair with safety in the summer season; and I know
not of a place in the world where they can go with better guarantees
of good health, and a reasonable share of the luxuries of life. The
town of Pensacola is beautifully situated on the shore of the bay,
and contains at present about fifteen hundred inhabitants, most of
them Spanish Creoles. They live an easy and idle life, without any
energy further than for the mere means of living. The bay abounds in
the greatest variety of fish, which are easily taken, and the finest
quality of oysters are found in profusion, even alongside of the
wharves.
Government having fixed upon this harbour as the great naval depôt
for all the Southern coast, the consequence will be, that a vast sum
of public money will always be put into circulation in this place;
and the officers of the navy, together with the officers of the army,
stationed in the three forts built and now building at this place, will
constitute the most polished and desirable society in our country.
What Pensacola _has been_ or _is_, in a commercial point of view,
little can be said; but what it _can be_, and most certainly _will
be_, in a few years, the most sanguine can hardly predict. I would
unhesitatingly recommend this to the enterprising capitalists of the
North, as a place where they can _live_, and where (if nature has been
kind, as experience has taught us) they _will_ flourish. A few such
men have taken their stand here within a few months past; and, as a
first step towards their aggrandizement, a plan of a rail-road has been
projected, from Pensacola to Columbus, in Georgia; which needs only to
be completed, to place Pensacola at once before any other town on the
Southern coast, excepting New Orleans. Of the feasibility of such a
work, there is not the slightest doubt; and, from the opinions advanced
by Captain Chase and Lieutenant Bowman, two of the most distinguished
engineers of the army, it would seem as if Nature had formed a level
nearly the whole way, and supplied the best kind of timber on the spot
for its erection. The route of this rail-road would be through or near
the principal cotton-growing part of Alabama, and the quantity of
produce from that state, as well as from a great part of the state of
Georgia, which would seek this market, would be almost incalculable.
Had this road been in operation during the past winter, it has been
ascertained by a simple calculation, that the cotton-growers of
Alabama, might have saved 2,000,000 of dollars on their crop; by being
enabled to have got it early into market, and received the first price
of 18¾ cents, instead of waiting six weeks or two months for a rise of
water, enabling them to get it to Mobile—at which time it had fallen to
nine cents per pound.
As a work also of _national utility_, it would rank amongst the
most important in our country, and the Government might afford to
appropriate the whole sum necessary for its construction. In a period
of war, when in all probability, for a great part of the time, this
port may be in a state of blockade, such a communication with the
interior of the country, would be of incalculable benefit for the
transportation of men—of produce and munitions of war.
[Illustration: 147]
[Illustration: 148]
Of the few remnants of Indians remaining in this part of the country, I
have little to say, at present, that could interest you. The sum total
that can be learned or seen of them (like all others that are half
civilized) is, that they are to be pitied.
The direful “_trump of war_” is blowing in East Florida, where I was
“steering my course;” and I shall in a few days turn my steps in a
different direction.
Since you last heard from me, I have added on to my former Tour “down
the river,” the remainder of the Mississippi (or rather Missouri),
from St. Louis to New Orleans; and I find that, from its source to the
Balize, the distance is 4500 _miles only_! I shall be on the wing again
in a few days, for a shake of the hand with the Camanchees, Osages,
Pawnees, Kioways, Arapahoes, &c.—some hints of whom I shall certainly
give you from their different localities, provided I can keep the hair
on my head.
This Tour will lead me up the Arkansas to its source, and into the
Rocky Mountains, under the protection of the United States dragoons.
You will begin to think ere long, that I shall acquaint myself pretty
well with the manners and customs of our country—at least with the
_out-land-ish_ part of it.
I shall hail the day with pleasure, when I can again reach the free
land of the lawless savage; for far more agreeable to my ear is the
Indian yell and war-whoop, than the civilized groans and murmurs about
“_pressure_,” “_deposites_,” “_banks_,” “_boundary questions_,” &c.;
and I vanish from the country with the sincere hope that these tedious
words may become _obsolete_ before I return. Adieu.
LETTER—No. 37.
FORT GIBSON, _ARKANSAS TERRITORY_.
Since the date of my last Letter at Pensacola, in Florida, I travelled
to New Orleans, and from thence up the Mississippi several hundred
miles, to the mouth of the Arkansas; and up the Arkansas, 700 miles to
this place. We wended our way up, between the pictured shores of this
beautiful river, on the steamer “Arkansas,” until within 200 miles
of this post; when we got aground, and the water falling fast, left
the steamer nearly on dry ground. Hunting and fishing, and whist, and
sleeping, and eating, were our principal amusements to deceive away
the time, whilst we were waiting for the water to rise. Lieutenant
Seaton, of the army, was one of my companions in misery, whilst we
lay two weeks or more without prospect of further progress—the poor
fellow on his way to his post to join his regiment, had left his trunk,
unfortunately, with all his clothes in it; and by hunting and fishing
in shirts that I loaned him, or from other causes, we became yoked in
amusements, in catering for our table—in getting fish and wild fowl;
and, after that, as the “last kick” for amusement and pastime, with
another good companion by the name of Chadwick, we clambered up and
over the rugged mountains’ sides, from day to day, turning stones to
catch _centipedes_ and _tarantulas_, of which poisonous reptiles we
caged a number; and on the boat amused ourselves by betting on their
battles, which were immediately fought, and life almost instantly
taken, when they came together.[4]
In this, and fifty other ways, we whiled away the heavy time: but yet,
at last we reached our destined goal, and here we are at present fixed.
Fort Gibson is the extreme south-western outpost on the United States
frontier; beautifully situated on the banks of the river, in the midst
of an extensive and lovely prairie; and is at present occupied by the
7th regiment of United States infantry, heretofore under the command of
General Arbuckle, one of the oldest officers on the frontier, and the
original builder of the post.
Being soon to leave this little civilized world for a campaign in the
Indian country, I take this opportunity to bequeath a few words before
the moment of departure. Having sometime since obtained permission
from the Secretary of War to accompany the regiment of the United
States dragoons in their summer campaign, I _reported_ myself at
this place two months ago, where I have been waiting ever since for
their organization.—After the many difficulties which they have had
to encounter, they have at length all assembled—the grassy plains are
resounding with the trampling hoofs of the prancing war-horse—and
already the hills are echoing back the notes of the spirit-stirring
trumpets, which are sounding for the onset. The _natives_ are again “to
be astonished,” and I shall probably again be a witness to the scene.
But whether the approach of eight hundred mounted dragoons amongst the
Camanchees and Pawnees, will afford me a better subject for a picture
of a _gaping_ and _astounded multitude_, than did the first approach
of our steam-boat amongst the Mandans, &c., is a question yet to be
solved. I am strongly inclined to think that the scene will not be
less wild and spirited, and I ardently wish it; for I have become so
much Indian of late, that my pencil has lost all appetite for subjects
that savour of tameness. I should delight in seeing these red knights
of the lance astonished, for it is then that they shew their brightest
hues—and I care not how badly we frighten them, provided we hurt
them not, nor frighten them out of _sketching distance_. You will
agree with me, that I am going farther to get _sitters_, than any of
my fellow-artists ever did; but I take an indescribable pleasure in
roaming through Nature’s trackless wilds, and selecting my models,
where I am free and unshackled by the killing restraints of society;
where a painter must modestly sit and breathe away in agony the edge
and soul of his inspiration, waiting for the sluggish _calls_ of the
civil. Though the toil, the privations, and expense of travelling to
these remote parts of the world to get subjects for my pencil, place
almost insurmountable, and sometimes _painful_ obstacles before me, yet
I am encouraged by the continual conviction that I am practising in
the _true School of the Arts_; and that, though I should get as poor
as Lazarus, I should deem myself rich in models and studies for the
future occupation of my life. Of this much I am certain—that amongst
these sons of the forest, where are continually repeated the feats
and gambols equal to the Grecian Games, I have learned more of the
essential parts of my art in the three last years, than I could have
learned in New York in a life-time.
The landscape scenes of these wild and beautiful regions, are, of
themselves, a rich reward for the traveller who can place them in his
portfolio: and being myself the only one accompanying the dragoons for
scientific purposes, there will be an additional pleasure to be derived
from those pursuits. The regiment of eight hundred men, with whom I
am to travel, will be an effective force, and a perfect protection
against any attacks that will ever be made by Indians. It is composed
principally of young men of respectable families, who would act, on all
occasions, from feelings of pride and honour, in addition to those of
the common soldier.
The day before yesterday the regiment of dragoons and the 7th regiment
of infantry, stationed here, were reviewed by General Leavenworth, who
has lately arrived at this post, superseding Colonel Arbuckle in the
command.
Both regiments were drawn up in battle array, in _fatigue dress_, and
passing through a number of the manœuvres of battle, of charge and
repulse, &c., presenting a novel and thrilling scene in the prairie, to
the thousands of Indians and others who had assembled to witness the
display. The proud and manly deportment of these young men remind one
forcibly of a regiment of Independent Volunteers, and the horses have a
most beautiful appearance from the arrangement of colours. Each company
of horses has been selected of one colour entire. There is a company
of _bays_, a company of _blacks_, one of _whites_, one of _sorrels_,
one of _greys_, one of _cream_ colour, &c. &c., which render the
companies distinct, and the effect exceedingly pleasing. This regiment
goes out under the command of Colonel Dodge, and from his well tested
qualifications, and from the beautiful equipment of the command, there
can be little doubt but that they will do credit to themselves and an
honour to their country; so far as honours can be gained and laurels
can be plucked from their wild stems in a savage country. The object
of this summer’s campaign seems to be to cultivate an acquaintance
with the Pawnees and Camanchees. These are two extensive tribes of
roaming Indians, who, from their extreme ignorance of us, have not yet
recognized the United States in treaty, and have struck frequent blows
on our frontiers and plundered our traders who are traversing their
country. For this I cannot so much blame them, for the Spaniards are
gradually advancing upon them on one side, and the Americans on the
other, and fast destroying the furs and game of their country, which
God gave them as their only wealth and means of subsistence. This
movement of the dragoons _seems_ to be one of the most humane in its
views, and I heartily hope that it may prove so in the event, as well
for our own sakes as for that of the Indian. I can see no reason why
we should march upon them with an invading army carrying with it the
spirit of chastisement. The object of Government undoubtedly is to
effect a friendly meeting with them, that they may see and respect us,
and to establish something like a system of mutual rights with them. To
penetrate their country with the other view, that of chastising them,
even with five times the number that are now going, would be entirely
futile, and perhaps _disastrous_ in the extreme. It is a pretty thing
(and perhaps an easy one, in the estimation of the world) for an army
of mounted men to be gaily prancing over the boundless green fields of
the West, and it _is_ so for a little distance—but it would be well
that the world should be apprised of some of the actual difficulties
that oppose themselves to the success of such a campaign, that they
may not censure too severely, in case this command should fail to
accomplish the objects for which they were organized.
In the first place, from the great difficulty of organizing and
equipping, these troops are starting too late in the season for their
summer’s campaign, by two months. The journey which they have to
perform is a very long one, and although the first part of it will be
picturesque and pleasing, the after part of it will be tiresome and
fatiguing in the extreme. As they advance to the West, the grass (and
consequently the game) will be gradually diminishing, and water in many
parts of the county not to be found.
As the troops will be obliged to subsist themselves a great part of the
way, it will be extremely difficult to do it under such circumstances,
and at the same time hold themselves in readiness, with half-famished
horses and men nearly exhausted, to contend with a numerous enemy who
are at home, on the ground on which they were born, with horses fresh
and ready for action. It is not probable, however, that the Indians
will venture to take advantage of such circumstances; but I am inclined
to think, that the expedition will be more likely to fail from another
source: it is my opinion that the appearance of so large a military
force in their country, will alarm the Indians to that degree, that
they will fly with their families to their hiding-places amongst those
barren deserts, which they themselves can reach only by great fatigue
and extreme privation, and to which our half-exhausted troops cannot
possibly follow them. From these haunts their warriors would advance
and annoy the regiment as much as they could, by striking at their
hunting parties and cutting off their supplies. To attempt to pursue
them, if they cannot be called to a council, would be as useless as
to follow the wind; for our troops in such a case, are in a country
where they are obliged to subsist themselves, and the Indians being on
fresh horses, with a supply of provisions, would easily drive all the
buffaloes ahead of them; and endeavour, as far as possible, to decoy
our troops into the barren parts of the country, where they could not
find the means of subsistence.
The plan designed to be pursued, and the only one that can succeed,
is to send runners to the different bands, explaining the friendly
intentions of our Government, and to invite them to a meeting. For this
purpose several Camanchee and Pawnee prisoners have been purchased from
the Osages, who may be of great service in bringing about a friendly
interview.
I ardently hope that this plan may succeed, for I am anticipating
great fatigue and privation in the endeavour to see these wild tribes
together; that I may be enabled to lay before the world a just estimate
of their manners and customs.
I hope that my suggestions may not be truly prophetic; but I am
constrained to say, that I doubt very much whether we shall see
anything more of them than their trails, and the sites of their
deserted villages.
Several companies have already started from this place; and the
remaining ones will be on their march in a day or two. General
Leavenworth will accompany them 200 miles, to the mouth of False
Washita, and I shall be attached to his staff. Incidents which may
occur, I shall record. Adieu.
+Note.+—In the mean time, as it may be long before I can write
again, I send you some account of the Osages; whom I have been
visiting and painting during the two months I have been staying
here.
[4] Several years after writing the above, I was shocked at the
announcement of the death of this amiable and honourable young man,
Lieutenant Seaton, who fell a victim to the deadly disease of that
country; severing another of the many fibres of my heart, which
peculiar circumstances in these wild regions, had woven, but to be
broken.
LETTER—No. 38.
FORT GIBSON, _ARKANSAS_.
Nearly two months have elapsed since I arrived at this post, on my way
up the river from the Mississippi, to join the regiment of dragoons on
their campaign into the country of the Camanchees and Pawnee Picts;
during which time, I have been industriously at work with my brush and
my pen, recording the looks and the deeds of the Osages, who inhabit
the country on the North and the West of this.
The Osage, or (as they call themselves) _Wa-saw-see_, are a tribe of
about 5200 in numbers, inhabiting and hunting over the head-waters
of the Arkansas, and Neosho or Grand Rivers. Their present residence
is about 700 miles West of the Mississippi river: in three villages,
constituted of wigwams, built of barks and flags or reeds. One of these
villages is within forty miles of this Fort; another within sixty, and
the third about eighty miles. Their chief place of trade is with the
sutlers at this post; and there are constantly more or less of them
encamped about the garrison.
The Osages may justly be said to be the tallest race of men in North
America, either of red or white skins; there being very few indeed of
the men, at their full growth, who are less than six feet in stature,
and very many of them six and a half, and others seven feet. They are
at the same time well-proportioned in their limbs, and good looking;
being rather narrow in the shoulders, and, like most all very tall
people, a little inclined to stoop; not throwing the chest out, and
the head and shoulders back, quite as much as the Crows and Mandans,
and other tribes amongst which I have been familiar. Their movement is
graceful and quick; and in war and the chase, I think they are equal to
any of the tribes about them.
This tribe, though living, as they long have, near the borders of
the civilized community, have studiously rejected everything of
civilized customs; and are uniformly dressed in skins of their own
dressing—strictly maintaining their primitive looks and manners,
without the slightest appearance of innovations, excepting in the
blankets, which have been recently admitted to their use instead of the
buffalo robes, which are now getting scarce amongst them.
The Osages are one of the tribes who shave the head, as I have before
described when speaking of the Pawnees and Konzas, and they decorate
and paint it with great care, and some considerable taste. There is
a peculiarity in the heads of these people which is very striking to
the eye of a traveller; and which I find is produced by artificial
means in infancy. Their children, like those of all the other tribes,
are carried on a board, and slung upon the mother’s back. The infants
are lashed to the boards, with their backs upon them, apparently in
a very uncomfortable condition; and with the Osages, the head of the
child bound down so tight to the board, as to force in the occipital
bone, and create an unnatural deficiency on the back part, and
consequently more than a natural elevation of the top of the head.
This custom, they told me they practiced, because “it pressed out a
bold and manly appearance in front.” This I think, from observation,
to be rather imaginary than real; as I cannot see that they exhibit
any extraordinary development in the front; though they evidently
shew a striking deficiency on the back part, and also an unnatural
elevation on the top of the head, which is, no doubt, produced by this
custom. The difference between this mode and the one practiced by the
Flathead Indians beyond the Rocky Mountains, consists in this, that
the Flatheads press the head _between_ two boards; the one pressing
the frontal bone down, whilst the other is pressing the occipital up,
producing the most frightful deformity; whilst the Osages merely press
the occipital in, and that, but to a moderate degree, occasioning but
a slight, and in many cases, almost immaterial, departure from the
symmetry of nature.
[Illustration: 150]
[Illustration: 151]
These people, like all those tribes who shave the head, cut and slit
their ears very much, and suspend from them great quantities of wampum
and tinsel ornaments. Their necks are generally ornamented also with
a profusion of wampum and beads; and as they live in a warm climate
where there is not so much necessity for warm clothing, as amongst the
more Northern tribes, of whom I have been heretofore speaking; their
shoulders, arms, and chests are generally naked, and painted in a great
variety of picturesque ways, with silver bands on the wrists, and
oftentimes a profusion of rings on the fingers.
The head-chief of the Osages at this time, is a young man by the name
of Clermont (+plate+ 150), the son of a very distinguished chief of
that name, who recently died; leaving his son his successor, with the
consent of the tribe. I painted the portrait of this chief at full
length, in a beautiful dress, his leggings fringed with scalp-locks,
and in his hand his favourite and valued war-club.
By his side I have painted also at full length, his wife and child
(+plate+ 151). She was richly dressed in costly cloths of civilized
manufacture, which is almost a solitary instance amongst the Osages,
who so studiously reject every luxury and every custom of civilized
people; and amongst those, the use of whiskey, which is on all sides
tendered to them—but almost uniformly rejected! This is an unusual and
unaccountable thing, unless the influence which the missionaries and
teachers have exercised over them, has induced them to abandon the
pernicious and destructive habit of drinking to excess. From what I can
learn, the Osages were once fond of whiskey; and, like all other tribes
who have had the opportunity, were in the habit of using it to excess.
Several very good and exemplary men have been for years past exerting
their greatest efforts, with those of their families, amongst these
people; having established schools and agricultural experiments amongst
them. And I am fully of the opinion, that this decided anomaly in the
Indian country, has resulted from the devoted exertions of these pious
and good men.
Amongst the chiefs of the Osages, and probably the next in authority
and respect in the tribe, is Tchong-tas-sab-bee, the black dog (+plate+
152), whom I painted also at full length, with his pipe in one hand,
and his tomahawk in the other; his head shaved, and ornamented with a
beautiful crest of deers’ hair, and his body wrapped in a huge mackinaw
blanket.
This dignitary, who is blind in the left eye, is one of the most
conspicuous characters in all this country, rendered so by his huge
size (standing in height and in girth, above all of his tribe), as
well as by his extraordinary life. The Black Dog is familiarly known
to all the officers of the army, as well as to Traders and all other
white men, who have traversed these regions, and I believe, admired and
respected by most of them.
His height, I think, is seven feet; and his limbs full and rather
fat, making his bulk formidable, and weighing, perhaps, some 250
or 300 pounds. This man is chief of one of the three bands of the
Osages, divided as they are into three families; occupying, as I
before said, three villages, denominated, “Clermont’s Village,” “Black
Dog’s Village,” and “White Hair’s Village.” The White Hair is another
distinguished leader of the Osages; and some have awarded to him the
title of _Head Chief_; but in the jealous feelings of rivalry which
have long agitated this tribe, and some times, even endangered its
peace, I believe it has been generally agreed that his claims are third
in the tribe; though he justly claims the title of a chief, and a very
gallant and excellent man. The portrait of this man, I regret to say, I
did not get.
Amongst the many brave and distinguished warriors of the tribe, one of
the most noted and respected is Tal-lee (+plate+ 153), painted at full
length, with his lance in his hand—his shield on his arm, and his bow
and quiver slung upon his back.
In this portrait, there is a fair specimen of the Osage figure and
dress, as well as of the facial outline, and shape and character of the
head, and mode of dressing and ornamenting it with the helmet-crest,
and the eagle’s quill.
If I had the time at present, I would unfold to the reader some of the
pleasing and extraordinary incidents of this gallant fellow’s military
life; and also the anecdotes that have grown out of the familiar life
I have led with this handsome and high-minded _gentleman_ of the wild
woods and prairies. Of the Black Dog I should say more also; and
most assuredly will not fail to do justice to these extraordinary men,
when I have leisure to write off all my notes, and turn biographer. At
present, I shake hands with these two noblemen, and bid them good-bye;
promising them, that if I never get time to say more of their virtues—I
shall say nothing against them.
[Illustration: 152]
[Illustration: 153]
In +plates+ 154, 155, 156, I have represented three braves,
Ko-ha-tunk-a (the big crow); Nah-com-e-shee (the man of the bed), and
Mun-ne-pus-kee (he who is not afraid). These portraits set forth fairly
the modes of dress and ornaments of the young men of the tribe, from
the tops of their heads to the soles of their feet. The only dress they
wear in warm weather is the breech-cloth, leggings, and moccasins of
dressed skins, and garters worn immediately below the knee, ornamented
profusely with beads and wampum.[5]
These three distinguished and ambitious young men, were of the best
families in the Osage nation; and as they explained to me, having
formed a peculiar attachment to each other—they desired me to paint
them all on one canvass, in which wish I indulged them.
Besides the above personages, I also painted the portraits of
_Wa-ho-beck-ee_ (————), a brave, and said to be the handsomest
man in the Osage nation; _Moi-een-e-shee_ (the constant walker);
_Wa-mash-ee-sheek_ (he who takes away); _Wa-chesh-uk_ (war);
_Mink-chesk_ (————); _Wash-im-pe-shee_ (the mad man), a distinguished
warrior; _Shin-ga-wos-sa_ (the handsome bird); _Cah-he-ga-shin-ga_ (the
little chief), and _Tcha-to-ga_ (the mad buffalo); all of which will
hang in my +Indian Museum+ for the inspection of the curious. The last
mentioned of these was tried and convicted of the murder of two white
men during Adams’s administration, and was afterwards pardoned, and
still lives, though in disgrace in his tribe, as one whose life had
been forfeited, “but (as they say) not worth taking.”
The Osages have been formerly, and until quite recently, a powerful
and warlike tribe; carrying their arms fearlessly through all of
these realms; and ready to cope with foes of any kind that they were
liable to meet. At present, the case is quite different; they have
been repeatedly moved and jostled along, from the head waters of the
White river, and even from the shores of the Mississippi, to where
they now are; and reduced by every war and every move. The small-pox
has taken its share of them at two or three different times; and the
Konzas, as they are now called, having been a part of the Osages, and
receded from them, impaired their strength; and have at last helped
to lessen the number of their warriors; so that their decline has
been very rapid, bringing them to the mere handful that now exists of
them; though still preserving their valour as warriors, which they
are continually shewing off as bravely and as professionally as they
can, with the Pawnees and the Camanchees, with whom they are waging
incessant war; although they are the principal sufferers in those
scenes which they fearlessly persist in, as if they were actually bent
on their self-destruction. Very great efforts have been, and are being
made amongst these people to civilize and christianize them; and still
I believe with but little success. Agriculture they have caught but
little of; and of religion and civilization still less. One good result
has, however, been produced by these faithful labourers, which is the
conversion of these people to temperance; which I consider the first
important step towards the other results, and which of itself is an
achievement that redounds much to the credit and humanity of those,
whose lives have been devoted to its accomplishment.
Here I must leave the Osages for the present, but not the reader, whose
company I still hope to have awhile longer, to hear how I get along
amongst the wild and untried scenes, that I am to start upon in a few
days, in company with the first regiment of dragoons, in the first
grand _civilized foray_, into the country of the wild and warlike
Camanchees.
[Illustration: 154 155 156]
[5] These three young men, with eight or ten others, were sent
out by the order of the Black Dog and the other chiefs, with the
regiment of dragoons, as guides and hunters, for the expedition to
the Camanchees, an account of which will be found in the following
pages.
I was a fellow-traveller and hunter with these young men for
several months, and therefore have related in the following
pages some of the incidents of our mutual exploits whilst in the
Camanchee country.
LETTER—No. 39.
MOUTH OF FALSE WASHITA, _RED RIVER_.
Under the protection of the United States dragoons, I arrived at this
place three days since, on my way again in search of the “Far West.”
How far I may _this time_ follow the flying phantom, is uncertain. I am
already again in the land of the _buffaloes_ and the _fleet-bounding
antelopes_; and I anticipate, with many other beating hearts, rare
sport and amusement amongst the wild herds ere long.
We shall start from hence in a few days, and other epistles I may
occasionally drop you from _terra incognita_, for such is the great
expanse of country which we expect to range over; and names we are to
give, and country to explore, as far as we proceed. We are, at this
place, on the banks of the Red River, having Texas under our eye on
the opposite bank. Our encampment is on the point of land between the
Red and False Washita rivers, at their junction; and the country about
us is a panorama too beautiful to be painted with a pen: it is, like
most of the country in these regions, composed of prairie and timber,
alternating in the most delightful shapes and proportions that the eye
of a connoisseur could desire. The verdure is everywhere of the deepest
green, and the plains about us are literally speckled with buffalo.
We are distant from Fort Gibson about 200 miles, which distance we
accomplished in ten days.
A great part of the way, the country is prairie, gracefully
undulating—well watered, and continually beautified by copses and
patches of timber. On our way my attention was rivetted to the tops
of some of the prairie bluffs, whose summits I approached with
inexpressible delight. I rode to the top of one of these noble mounds,
in company with my friends Lieut. Wheelock and Joseph Chadwick, where
we agreed that our _horses_ instinctively _looked_ and _admired_.
They thought not of the rich herbage that was under their feet,
but, with deep-drawn sighs, their necks were loftily curved, and
their eyes widely stretched over the landscape that was beneath us.
From this elevated spot, the horizon was bounded all around us by
mountain streaks of blue, softening into azure as they vanished, and
the pictured vales that intermediate lay, were deepening into green
as the eye was returning from its roamings. Beneath us, and winding
through the waving landscape was seen with peculiar effect, the “bold
dragoons,” marching in beautiful order forming a train of a mile in
length. Baggage waggons and Indians (_engagés_) helped to lengthen
the procession. From the point where we stood, the line was seen in
miniature; and the undulating hills over which it was bending its way,
gave it the appearance of a huge black snake gracefully gliding over a
rich carpet of green.
This picturesque country of 200 miles, over which we have passed,
belongs to the Creeks and Choctaws, and affords one of the richest and
most desirable countries in the world for agricultural pursuits.
Scarcely a day has passed, in which we have not crossed oak ridges,
of several miles in breadth, with a sandy soil and scattering timber;
where the ground was almost literally covered with vines, producing the
greatest profusion of delicious grapes, of five-eighths of an inch in
diameter, and hanging in such endless clusters, as justly to entitle
this singular and solitary wilderness to the style of a vineyard (and
ready for the vintage), for many miles together.
The next hour we would be trailing through broad and verdant valleys of
green prairies, into which we had descended; and oftentimes find our
progress completely arrested by hundreds of acres of small plum-trees,
of four or six feet in height; so closely woven and interlocked
together, as entirely to dispute our progress, and sending us several
miles around; when every bush that was in sight was so loaded with the
weight of its delicious wild fruit, that they were in many instances
literally without leaves on their branches, and bent quite to the
ground. Amongst these, and in patches, were intervening beds of wild
roses, wild currants, and gooseberries. And underneath and about them,
and occasionally interlocked with them, huge masses of the prickly
pears, and beautiful and tempting wild flowers that sweetened the
atmosphere above; whilst an occasional huge yellow rattlesnake, or
a copper-head, could be seen gliding over, or basking across their
vari-coloured tendrils and leaves.
On the eighth day of our march we met, for the first time, a herd of
buffaloes; and being in advance of the command, in company with General
Leavenworth, Colonel Dodge, and several other officers; we all had an
opportunity of testing the mettle of our horses and _our own tact_ at
the wild and spirited death. The inspiration of chase took at once, and
alike, with the old and the young; a beautiful plain lay before us,
and we all gave spur for the onset. General Leavenworth and Colonel
Dodge, with their pistols, gallantly and handsomely belaboured a fat
cow, and were in together at the death. I was not quite so fortunate
in my selection, for the one which I saw fit to gallant over the plain
alone, of the same sex, younger and coy, led me a hard chase, and for a
long time, disputed my near approach; when, at length, the _full speed_
of my horse forced us to close company, and she desperately assaulted
his shoulders with her horns. My gun was aimed, but missing its fire,
the muzzle entangled in her mane, and was instantly broke in two in my
hands, and fell over my shoulder. My pistols were then brought to bear
upon her; and though severely wounded, she succeeded in reaching the
thicket and left me without “a deed of chivalry to boast.”—Since that
day, the Indian hunters in our charge have supplied us abundantly with
buffalo meat; and report says, that the country ahead of us will afford
us continual sport, and an abundant supply.
We are halting here for a few days to recruit horses and men, after
which the line of march will be resumed; and if the Pawnees are as near
to us as we have strong reason to believe, from their recent trails and
fires, it is probable that within a few days we shall “thrash” them or
“_get thrashed_;” unless through their sagacity and fear, they elude
our search by flying before us to their hiding-places.
The prevailing policy amongst the officers seems to be, that of
flogging them first, and then establishing a treaty of peace. If this
plan were _morally right_, I do not think it _practicable_; for,
as _enemies_, I do not believe they will stand to meet us; but, as
_friends_, I think we _may_ bring them to a _talk_, if the proper means
are adopted. We are here encamped on the ground on which Judge Martin
and servant were butchered, and his son kidnapped by the Pawnees or
Camanchees, but a few weeks since; and the moment they discover us in
a large body, they will presume that we are relentlessly seeking for
revenge, and they will probably be very shy of our approach. We are
over the Washita—the “Rubicon is passed.” We are invaders of a sacred
soil. We are carrying war in our front,—and “we shall soon _see_, what
we _shall see_.”
The cruel fate of Judge Martin and family has been published in the
papers; and it belongs to the regiment of dragoons to demand the
surrender of the murderers, and get for the information of the world,
some authentic account of the mode in which this horrid outrage was
committed.
Judge Martin was a very respectable and independent man, living on the
lower part of the Red River, and in the habit of taking his children
and a couple of black men-servants with him, and a tent to live in,
every summer, into these wild regions; where he pitched it upon the
prairie, and spent several months in killing buffaloes and other wild
game, for his own private amusement. The news came to Fort Gibson but
a few weeks before we started, that he had been set upon by a party of
Indians and destroyed. A detachment of troops was speedily sent to the
spot, where they found his body horridly mangled, and also of one of
his negroes; and it is supposed that his son, a fine boy of nine years
of age, has been taken home to their villages by them. Where they still
retain him, and where it is our hope to recover him.
Great praise is due to General Leavenworth for his early and unremitted
efforts to facilitate the movements of the regiment of dragoons, by
opening roads from Gibson and Towson to this place. We found encamped
two companies of infantry from Fort Towson, who will follow in the
rear of the dragoons as far as necessary, transporting with waggons,
stores and supplies, and ready, at the same time, to co-operate with
the dragoons in case of necessity. General Leavenworth will advance
with us from this post, but how far he may proceed is uncertain. We
know not exactly the route which we shall take, for circumstances alone
must decide that point. We shall probably reach Cantonment Leavenworth
in the fall; and one thing is _certain_ (in the opinion of one who has
already seen something of Indian life and country), we shall meet with
many severe privations and reach that place a jaded set of fellows, and
as ragged as Jack Falstaff’s famous band.
You are no doubt inquiring, who are these Pawnees, Camanchees, and
Arapahoes, and why not tell us all about them? Their history, numbers
and limits are still in obscurity; nothing definite is yet known of
them, but I hope I shall soon be able to give the world a clue to them.
If my life and health are preserved, I anticipate many a pleasing scene
for my pencil, as well as incidents worthy of reciting to the world,
which I shall occasionally do, as opportunity may occur.
LETTER—No. 40.
MOUTH OF FALSE WASHITA.
Since I wrote my last Letter from this place, I have been detained here
with the rest of the cavalcade from the extraordinary sickness which
is afflicting the regiment, and actually threatening to arrest its
progress.
It was, as I wrote the other day, the expectation of the commanding
officer that we should have been by this time recruited and recovered
from sickness, and ready to start again on our march; but since I wrote
nearly one half of the command, and included amongst them, several
officers, with General Leavenworth, have been thrown upon their backs,
with the prevailing epidemic, a slow and distressing bilious fever. The
horses of the regiment are also sick, about an equal proportion, and
seemingly suffering with the same disease. They are daily dying, and
men are calling sick, and General Leavenworth has ordered Col. Dodge to
select all the men, and all the horses that are able to proceed, and be
off to-morrow at nine o’clock upon the march towards the Camanchees,
in hopes thereby to preserve the health of the men, and make the most
rapid advance towards the extreme point of destination.
General Leavenworth has reserved Col. Kearney to take command of the
remaining troops and the little encampment; and promises Colonel Dodge
that he will himself be well enough in a few days to proceed with a
party on his trail and overtake him at the Cross Timbers.
I should here remark, that when we started from Fort Gibson, the
regiment of dragoons, instead of the eight hundred which it was
supposed it would contain, had only organized to the amount of 400
men, which was the number that started from that place; and being at
this time half disabled, furnishes but 200 effective men to penetrate
the wild and untried regions of the hostile Camanchees. All has been
bustle and confusion this day, packing up and preparing for the start
to-morrow morning. My canvass and painting apparatus are prepared and
ready for the packhorse, which carries the goods and chattels of my
esteemed companion Joseph Chadwick and myself, and we shall be the two
only guests of the procession, and consequently the only two who will
be at liberty to gallop about where we please, despite military rules
and regulations, chasing the wild herds, or seeking our own amusements
in any such modes as we choose. Mr. Chadwick is a young man from St.
Louis, with whom I have been long acquainted, and for whom I have the
highest esteem. He has so far stood by me as a faithful friend, and
I rely implicitly on his society during this campaign for much good
company and amusement. Though I have an order from the Secretary at War
to the commanding officer, to protect and supply me, I shall ask but
for their protection; as I have, with my friend Joe, laid in our own
supplies for the campaign, not putting the Government to any expense on
my account, in pursuit of my own private objects.
I am writing this under General Leavenworth’s tent, where he has
generously invited me to take up my quarters during our encampment
here, and he promises to send it by his express, which starts to-morrow
with a mail from this to Fort Towson on the frontier, some hundreds of
miles below this. At the time I am writing, the General lies pallid
and emaciated before me, on his couch, with a dragoon fanning him,
whilst he breathes forty or fifty breaths a minute, and writhes under
a burning fever, although he is yet unwilling even to admit that he is
sick.
In my last Letter I gave a brief account of a buffalo chase, where
General Leavenworth and Col. Dodge took parts, and met with pleasing
success. The next day, while on the march, and a mile or so in advance
of the regiment, and two days before we reached this place, General
Leavenworth, Col. Dodge, Lieut. Wheelock and myself were jogging along,
and all in turn complaining of the lameness of our bones, from the
chase on the former day, when the General, who had long ago had his
surfeit of pleasure of this kind on the Upper Missouri, remonstrated
against further indulgence, in the following manner: “Well, Colonel,
this running for buffaloes is bad business for us—we are getting too
old, and should leave such amusements to the young men; I have had
enough of this fun in my life, and I am determined not to hazard my
limbs or weary my horse any more with it—it is the height of folly for
us, but will do well enough for boys.” Col. Dodge assented at once to
his resolves, and approved them; whilst I, who had tried it in every
form (and I had thought, to my heart’s content), on the Upper Missouri,
joined my assent to the folly of our destroying our horses, which had
a long journey to perform, and agreed that I would join no more in the
buffalo chase, however near and inviting they might come to me.
In the midst of this conversation, and these mutual declarations (or
rather just at the end of them), as we were jogging along in “_Indian
file_,” and General Leavenworth taking the lead, and just rising to the
top of a little hill over which it seems he had had an instant peep, he
dropped himself suddenly upon the side of his horse and wheeled back!
and rapidly informed us with an agitated whisper, and an exceeding
game contraction of the eye, that a snug little band of buffaloes were
quietly grazing just over the knoll in a beautiful meadow for running,
and that if I would take to the left! and Lieut. Wheelock to the right!
and let him and the Colonel dash right into the midst of them! we could
play the devil with them!! one half of this at least was said after
he had got upon his feet and taken off his portmanteau and valise, in
which we had all followed suit, and were mounting for the start! and I
am almost sure nothing else was said, and if it had been I should not
have heard it, for I was too far off! and too rapidly dashed over the
waving grass! and too eagerly gazing and plying the whip, to hear or to
see, anything but the trampling hoofs! and the blackened throng! and
the dancing steeds! and the flashing of guns! until I had crossed the
beautiful lawn! and the limb of a tree, as my horse was darting into
the timber, had crossed my horse’s back, and had scraped me into the
grass, from which I soon raised my head! and all was silent! and all
out of sight! save the dragoon regiment, which I could see in distance
creeping along on the top of a high hill. I found my legs under me in a
few moments, and put them in their accustomed positions, none of which
would for some time, answer the usual purpose; but I at last got them
to work, and brought “Charley” out of the bushes, where he had “brought
up” in the top of a fallen tree, without damage.
No buffalo was harmed in this furious assault, nor horse nor rider.
Col. Dodge and Lieut. Wheelock had joined the regiment, and General
Leavenworth joined me, with too much game expression _yet_ in his eye
to allow him more time than to say, “I’ll have that calf before I
quit!” and away he sailed, “up hill and down dale,” in pursuit of a
fine calf that had been hidden on the ground during the chase, and was
now making its way over the prairies in pursuit of the herd. I rode
to the top of a little hill to witness the success of the General’s
second effort, and after he had come close upon the little affrighted
animal, it dodged about in such a manner as evidently to baffle his
skill, and perplex his horse, which at last fell in a hole, and both
were instantly out of my sight. I ran my horse with all possible speed
to the spot, and found him on his hands and knees, endeavouring to get
up. I dismounted and raised him on to his feet, when I asked him if
he was hurt, to which he replied “no, but I might have been,” when he
instantly fainted, and I laid him on the grass. I had left my canteen
with my portmanteau, and had nothing to administer to him, nor was
there water near us. I took my lancet from my pocket and was tying his
arm to open a vein, when he recovered, and objected to the operation,
assuring me that he was not in the least injured. I caught his horse
and soon got him mounted again, when we rode on together, and after two
or three hours were enabled to join the regiment.
From that hour to the present, I think I have seen a decided change in
the General’s face; he has looked pale and feeble, and been continually
troubled with a violent cough. I have rode by the side of him from day
to day, and he several times told me that he was fearful he was badly
hurt. He looks very feeble now, and I very much fear the result of the
fever that has set in upon him.
We take up the line of march at bugle-call in the morning, and it
may be a long time before I can send a Letter again, as there are no
post-offices nor mail carriers in the country where we are now going.
It will take a great deal to stop me from writing, however, and as I
am now to enter upon one of the most interesting parts of the Indian
country, inasmuch as it is one of the wildest and most hostile, I shall
surely scribble an occasional Letter, if I have to carry them in my own
pocket, and bring them in with me on my return.
LETTER—No. 41.
GREAT CAMANCHEE VILLAGE.
We are again at rest, and I am with subjects rude and almost infinite
around me, for my pen and my brush. The little band of dragoons are
encamped by a fine spring of cool water, within half a mile of the
principal town of the Camanchees, and in the midst of a bustling and
wild scene, I assure you; and before I proceed to give an account of
things and scenes that are about me, I must return for a few moments to
the place where I left the Reader, at the encampment at False Washita,
and rapidly travel with him over the country that lies between that
place and the Camanchee Village, where I am now writing.
On the morning after my last Letter was written, the sound and
efficient part of the regiment was in motion at nine o’clock. And with
them, my friend “Joe” and I, with our provisions laid in, and all
snugly arranged on our packhorse, which we alternately led or drove
between us.
Our course was about due West, on the divide between the Washita and
Red Rivers, with our faces looking towards the Rocky Mountains. The
country over which we passed from day to day, was inimitably beautiful;
being the whole way one continuous prairie of green fields, with
occasional clusters of timber and shrubbery, just enough for the uses
of cultivating-man, and for the pleasure of his eyes to dwell upon.
The regiment was rather more than half on the move, consisting of
250 men, instead of 200 as I predicted in my Letter from that place.
All seemed gay and buoyant at the fresh start, which all trusted was
to liberate us from the fatal miasma which we conceived was hovering
about the mouth of the False Washita. We advanced on happily, and
met with no trouble until the second night of our encampment, in the
midst of which we were thrown into “pie” (as printers would say,) in
an instant of the most appalling alarm and confusion. We were encamped
on a beautiful prairie, where we were every hour apprehensive of
the lurking enemy. And in the dead of night, when all seemed to be
sound asleep and quiet, the instant sound and flash of a gun within a
few paces of us! and then the most horrid and frightful groans that
instantly followed it, brought us all upon our hands and knees in an
instant, and our affrighted horses (which were breaking their lasos,)
in full speed and fury over our heads, with the frightful and mingled
din of snorting, and cries of “Indians! Indians! Pawnees!” &c., which
rang from every part of our little encampment! In a few moments the
excitement was chiefly over, and silence restored; when we could
hear the trampling hoofs of the horses, which were making off in all
directions, (not unlike a drove of swine that once ran into the sea,
when they were possessed of devils); and leaving but now and then an
individual quadruped hanging at its stake within our little camp. The
mode of our encampment was, uniformly in four lines, forming a square
of fifteen or twenty rods in diameter. Upon these lines our saddles and
packs were all laid, at the distance of five feet from each other; and
each man, after grazing his horse, had it fastened with a rope or laso,
to a stake driven in the ground at a little distance from his feet;
thus enclosing the horses all within the square, for the convenience of
securing them in case of attack or alarm. In this way we laid encamped,
when we were awakened by the alarm that I have just mentioned; and our
horses affrighted, dashed out of the camp, and over the heads of their
masters in the desperate “_Stampedo_.”
After an instant preparation for battle, and a little recovery from the
fright, which was soon effected by waiting a few moments in vain, for
the enemy to come on;—a general explanation took place, which brought
all to our legs again, and convinced us that there was no decided
obstacle, as yet, to our reaching the Camanchee towns; and after that,
“sweet home,” and the arms of our wives and dear little children,
provided we could ever overtake and recover our horses, which had
swept off in fifty directions, and with impetus enough to ensure us
employment for a day or two to come.
At the proper moment for it to be made, there was a general enquiry for
the cause of this _real misfortune_, when it was ascertained to have
originated in the following manner. A “raw recruit,” who was standing
as one of the sentinels on that night, saw, as he says “he supposed,”
an Indian creeping out of a bunch of bushes a few paces in front of
him, upon whom he levelled his rifle; and as the poor creature did not
“_advance_ and _give the countersign_” at his call, nor any answer at
all, he “let off!” and popped a bullet through the heart of a poor
dragoon horse, which had strayed away on the night before, and had
faithfully followed our trail all the day, and was now, with a beastly
misgiving, coming up, and slowly poking through a little thicket of
bushes into camp, to join its comrades, in servitude again!
The sudden shock of a gun, and the most appalling groans of this poor
dying animal, in the dead of night, and so close upon the heels of
sweet sleep, created a long vibration of nerves, and a day of great
perplexity and toil which followed, as we had to retrace our steps
twenty miles or more, in pursuit of affrighted horses; of which some
fifteen or twenty took up wild and free life upon the prairies,
to which they were abandoned, as they could not be found. After a
detention of two days in consequence of this disaster, we took up the
line of march again, and pursued our course with vigour and success,
over a continuation of green fields, enamelled with wild flowers, and
pleasingly relieved with patches and groves of timber.
On the fourth day of our march, we discovered many fresh signs of
buffaloes; and at last, immense herds of them grazing on the distant
hills. Indian trails were daily growing fresh, and their smokes were
seen in various directions ahead of us. And on the same day at noon,
we discovered a large party at several miles distance, sitting on
their horses and looking at us. From the glistening of the blades of
their lances, which were blazing as they turned them in the sun, it
was at first thought that they were Mexican cavalry, who might have
been apprized of our approach into their country, and had advanced to
contest the point with us. On drawing a little nearer, however, and
scanning them closer with our spy-glasses, they were soon ascertained
to be a war-party of Camanchees, on the look out for their enemies.
The regiment was called to a halt, and the requisite preparations made
and orders issued, we advanced in a direct line towards them until
we had approached to within two or three miles of them, when they
suddenly disappeared over the hill, and soon after shewed themselves
on another mound farther off and in a different direction. The course
of the regiment was then changed, and another advance towards them was
commenced, and as before, they disappeared and shewed themselves in
another direction. After several such efforts which proved ineffectual,
Col. Dodge ordered the command to halt, while he rode forward with a
few of his staff, and an ensign carrying a white flag. I joined this
advance, and the Indians stood their ground until we had come within
half a mile of them, and could distinctly observe all their numbers and
movements. We then came to a halt, and the white flag was sent a little
in advance, and waved as a signal for them to approach; at which one of
their party galloped out in advance of the war-party, on a milk white
horse, carrying a piece of white buffalo skin on the point of his long
lance in reply to our flag.
This moment was the commencement of one of the most thrilling and
beautiful scenes I ever witnessed. All eyes, both from his own party
and ours, were fixed upon the manœuvres of this gallant little fellow,
and he well knew it.
The distance between the two parties was perhaps half a mile, and that
a beautiful and gently sloping prairie; over which he was for the space
of a quarter of an hour, reining and spurring his maddened horse, and
gradually approaching us by tacking to the right and the left, like
a vessel beating against the wind. He at length came prancing and
leaping along till he met the flag of the regiment, when he leaned his
spear for a moment against it, looking the bearer full in the face,
when he wheeled his horse, and dashed up to Col. Dodge (+plate+ 157),
with his extended hand, which was instantly grasped and shaken. We
all had him by the hand in a moment, and the rest of the party seeing
him received in this friendly manner, instead of being sacrificed,
as they undoubtedly expected, started under “full whip” in a direct
line towards us, and in a moment gathered, like a black cloud, around
us! The regiment then moved up in regular order, and a general shake
of the hand ensued, which was accomplished by each warrior riding
along the ranks, and shaking the hand of every one as he passed.
This necessary form took up considerable time, and during the whole
operation, my eyes were fixed upon the gallant and wonderful appearance
of the little fellow who bore us the white flag on the point of his
lance. He rode a fine and spirited wild horse, which was as white as
the drifted snow, with an exuberant mane, and its long and bushy tail
sweeping the ground. In his hand he tightly drew the reins upon a
heavy Spanish bit, and at every jump, plunged into the animal’s sides,
till they were in a gore of blood, a huge pair of spurs, plundered, no
doubt, from the Spaniards in their border wars, which are continually
waged on the Mexican frontiers. The eyes of this noble little steed
seemed to be squeezed out of its head; and its fright, and its
agitation had brought out upon its skin a perspiration that was fretted
into a white foam and lather. The warrior’s quiver was slung on the
warrior’s back, and his bow grasped in his left hand, ready for instant
use, if called for. His shield was on his arm, and across his thigh, in
a beautiful cover of buckskin, his gun was slung—and in his right hand
his lance of fourteen feet in length.
Thus armed and equipped was this dashing cavalier; and nearly in the
same manner, all the rest of the party; and very many of them leading
an extra horse, which we soon learned was the favourite war-horse; and
from which circumstances altogether, we soon understood that they were
a war-party in search of their enemy.
After a shake of the hand, we dismounted, and the pipe was lit, and
passed around. And then a “talk” was held, in which we were aided by
a Spaniard we luckily had with us, who could converse with one of the
Camanchees, who spoke some Spanish.
Colonel Dodge explained to them the friendly motives with which we were
penetrating their country—that we were sent by the President to reach
their villages—to see the chiefs of the Camanchees and Pawnee Picts—to
shake hands with them, and to smoke the pipe of peace, and to establish
an acquaintance, and consequently a system of trade that would be
beneficial to both.
They listened attentively, and perfectly appreciated; and taking
Colonel Dodge at his word, relying with confidence in what he told
them; they informed us that their great town was within a few days’
march, and pointing in the direction—offered to abandon their
war-excursion, and turn about and escort us to it, which they did in
perfect good faith. We were on the march in the afternoon of that
day, and from day to day they busily led us on, over hill and dale,
encamping by the side of us at night, and resuming the march in the
morning.
During this march, over one of the most lovely and picturesque
countries in the world, we had enough continually to amuse and excite
us. The whole country seemed at times to be alive with buffaloes, and
bands of wild horses.
[Illustration: 157]
[Illustration: 158]
We had with us about thirty Osage and Cherokee, Seneca and Delaware
Indians, employed as guides and hunters for the regiment; and with
the war-party of ninety or a hundred Camanchees, we formed a most
picturesque appearance while passing over the green fields, and
consequently, sad havoc amongst the herds of buffaloes, which we were
almost hourly passing. We were now out of the influence and reach of
bread stuffs, and subsisted ourselves on buffaloes’ meat altogether;
and the Indians of the different tribes, emulous to shew their skill in
the chase, and prove the mettle of their horses, took infinite pleasure
in dashing into every herd that we approached; by which means, the
regiment was abundantly supplied from day to day with fresh meat.
In one of those spirited scenes when the regiment were on the march,
and the Indians with their bows and arrows were closely plying a band
of these affrighted animals, they made a bolt through the line of the
dragoons, and a complete breach, through which the whole herd passed,
upsetting horses and riders in the most amusing manner (+plate+ 158),
and receiving such shots as came from those guns and pistols that were
_aimed_, and not fired off into the empty air.
The buffaloes are very blind animals, and owing, probably in a great
measure, to the profuse locks that hang over their eyes, they run
chiefly by the nose, and follow in the tracks of each other, seemingly
heedless of what is about them; and of course, easily disposed to rush
in a mass, and the whole tribe or gang to pass in the tracks of those
that have first led the way.
The tract of country over which we passed, between the False Washita
and this place, is stocked, not only with buffaloes, but with numerous
bands of wild horses, many of which we saw every day. There is no other
animal on the prairies so wild and so sagacious as the horse; and none
other so difficult to come up with. So remarkably keen is their eye,
that they will generally run “at the sight,” when they are a mile
distant; being, no doubt, able to distinguish the character of the
enemy that is approaching when at that distance; and when in motion,
will seldom stop short of three or four miles. I made many attempts
to approach them by stealth, when they were grazing and playing their
gambols, without ever having been more than once able to succeed. In
this instance, I left my horse, and with my friend Chadwick, skulked
through a ravine for a couple of miles; until we were at length brought
within gun-shot of a fine herd of them, when I used my pencil for some
time, while we were under cover of a little hedge of bushes which
effectually screened us from their view. In this herd we saw all the
colours, nearly, that can be seen in a kennel of English hounds. Some
were milk white, some jet black—others were sorrel, and bay, and cream
colour—many were of an iron grey; and others were pied, containing a
variety of colours on the same animal. Their manes were very profuse,
and hanging in the wildest confusion over their necks and faces—and
their long tails swept the ground (see +plate+ 160).
After we had satisfied our curiosity in looking at these proud and
playful animals, we agreed that we would try the experiment of
“creasing” one, as it is termed in this country; which is done by
shooting them through the gristle on the top of the neck, which stuns
them so that they fall, and are secured with the hobbles on the feet;
after which they rise again without fatal injury. This is a practice
often resorted to by expert hunters, with good rifles, who are not
able to take them in any other way. My friend Joe and I were armed on
this occasion, each with a light fowling-piece, which have not quite
the preciseness in throwing a bullet that a rifle has; and having both
levelled our pieces at the withers of a noble, fine-looking iron grey,
we pulled trigger, and the poor creature fell, and the rest of the herd
were out of sight in a moment. We advanced speedily to him, and had the
most inexpressible mortification of finding, that we never had thought
of hobbles or halters, to secure him—and in a few moments more, had the
still greater mortification, and even anguish, to find that one of our
shots had broken the poor creature’s neck, and that he was quite dead.
The laments of poor Chadwick for the wicked folly of destroying this
noble animal, were such as I never shall forget; and so guilty did we
feel that we agreed that when we joined the regiment, we should boast
of all the rest of our hunting feats, but never make mention of this.
The usual mode of taking the wild horses, is, by throwing the _laso_,
whilst pursuing them at full speed (+plate+ 161), and dropping a noose
over their necks, by which their speed is soon checked, and they are
“choked down.” The laso is a thong of rawhide, some ten or fifteen
yards in length, twisted or braided, with a noose fixed at the end of
it; which, when the coil of the laso is thrown out, drops with great
certainty over the neck of the animal, which is soon conquered.
The Indian, when he starts for a wild horse, mounts one of the fleetest
he can get, and coiling his laso on his arm, starts off under the
“full whip,” till he can enter the band, when he soon gets it over
the neck of one of the number; when he instantly dismounts, leaving
his own horse, and runs as fast as he can, letting the laso pass out
gradually and carefully through his hands, until the horse falls for
want of breath, and lies helpless on the ground; at which time the
Indian advances slowly towards the horse’s head, keeping his laso tight
upon its neck, until he fastens a pair of hobbles on the animal’s
two forefeet, and also loosens the laso (giving the horse chance to
breathe), and gives it a noose around the under jaw, by which he gets
great power over the affrighted animal, which is rearing and plunging
when it gets breath; and by which, as he advances, hand over hand,
towards the horse’s nose (+plate+ 162), he is able to hold it down and
prevent it from throwing itself over on its back, at the hazard of its
limbs. By this means he gradually advances, until he is able to place
his hand on the animal’s nose, and over its eyes; and at length to
breathe in its nostrils, when it soon becomes docile and conquered; so
that he has little else to do than to remove the hobbles from its feet,
and lead or ride it into camp.
[Illustration: 160]
[Illustration: 161]
[Illustration: 162]
This “breaking down” or taming, however, is not without the most
desperate trial on the part of the horse, which rears and plunges in
every possible way to effect its escape, until its power is exhausted,
and it becomes covered with foam; and at last yields to the power
of man, and becomes his willing slave for the rest of its life. By
this very rigid treatment, the poor animal seems to be so completely
conquered, that it makes no further struggle for its freedom; but
submits quietly ever after, and is led or rode away with very little
difficulty. Great care is taken, however, in this and in subsequent
treatment, not to subdue the spirit of the animal, which is carefully
preserved and kept up, although they use them with great severity;
being, generally speaking, cruel masters.
The wild horse of these regions is a small, but very powerful animal;
with an exceedingly prominent eye, sharp nose, high nostril, small feet
and delicate leg; and undoubtedly, have sprung from a stock introduced
by the Spaniards, at the time of the invasion of Mexico; which having
strayed off upon the prairies, have run wild, and stocked the plains
from this to Lake Winnepeg, two or three thousand miles to the North.[6]
This useful animal has been of great service to the Indians living on
these vast plains, enabling them to take their game more easily, to
carry their burthens, &c.; and no doubt, render them better and handier
service than if they were of a larger and heavier breed. Vast numbers
of them are also killed for food by the Indians, at seasons when
buffaloes and other game are scarce. They subsist themselves both in
winter and summer by biting at the grass, which they can always get in
sufficient quantities for their food.
Whilst on our march we met with many droves of these beautiful animals,
and several times had the opportunity of seeing the Indians pursue
them, and take them with the laso. The first successful instance of
the kind was effected by one of our guides and hunters, by the name of
Beatte, a Frenchman, whose parents had lived nearly their whole lives
in the Osage village; and who, himself had been reared from infancy
amongst them; and in a continual life of Indian modes and amusements,
had acquired all the skill and tact of his Indian teachers, and
probably a little more; for he is reputed, without exception, the best
hunter in these Western regions.
This instance took place one day whilst the regiment was at its usual
halt of an hour, in the middle of the day.
When the bugle sounded for a halt, and all were dismounted, Beatte and
several others of the hunters asked permission of Col. Dodge to pursue
a drove of horses which were then in sight, at a distance of a mile or
more from us. The permission was given, and they started off, and by
following a ravine, approached near to the unsuspecting animals, when
they broke upon them and pursued them for several miles in full view
of the regiment. Several of us had good glasses, with which we could
plainly see every movement and every manœuvre. After a race of two or
three miles, Beatte was seen with his wild horse down, and the band and
the other hunters rapidly leaving him.
Seeing him in this condition, I galloped off to him as rapidly as
possible, and had the satisfaction of seeing the whole operation of
“breaking down,” and bringing in the wild animal; and in +plate+ 162,
I have given a fair representation of the mode by which it was done.
When he had conquered the horse in this way, his brother, who was one
of the unsuccessful ones in the chase, came riding back, and leading
up the horse of Beatte which he had left behind, and after staying
with us a few minutes, assisted Beatte in leading his conquered wild
horse towards the regiment, where it was satisfactorily examined and
commented upon, as it was trembling and covered with white foam, until
the bugle sounded the signal for marching, when all mounted; and with
the rest, Beatte, astride of his wild horse, which had a buffalo skin
girted on its back, and a halter, with a cruel noose around the under
jaw. In this manner the command resumed its march, and Beatte astride
of his wild horse, on which he rode quietly and without difficulty,
until night; the whole thing, the capture, and breaking, all having
been accomplished within the space of one hour, our usual and daily
halt at midday.
Several others of these animals were caught in a similar manner
during our march, by others of our hunters, affording us satisfactory
instances of this most extraordinary and almost unaccountable feat.
The horses that were caught were by no means very valuable specimens,
being rather of an ordinary quality; and I saw to my perfect
satisfaction, that the finest of these droves can never be obtained in
this way, as they take the lead at once, when they are pursued, and in
a few moments will be seen half a mile or more ahead of the bulk of
the drove, which they are leading off. There is not a doubt but there
are many very fine and valuable horses amongst these herds; but it is
impossible for the Indian or other hunter to take them, unless it be
done by “creasing” them, as I have before described; which is often
done, but always destroys the spirit and character of the animal.
After many hard and tedious days of travel, we were at last told by our
Camanchee guides that we were near their village; and having led us to
the top of a gently rising elevation on the prairie, they pointed to
their village at several miles distance, in the midst of one of the
most enchanting valleys that human eyes ever looked upon. The general
course of the valley is from N. W. to S. E., of several miles in width,
with a magnificent range of mountains rising in distance beyond; it
being, without doubt, a huge “spur” of the Rocky Mountains, composed
entirely of a reddish granite or gneiss corresponding with the other
links of this stupendous chain. In the midst of this lovely valley,
we could just discern amongst the scattering shrubbery that lined the
banks of the watercourses, the tops of the Camanchee wigwams, and the
smoke curling above them. The valley, for a mile distant about the
village, seemed speckled with horses and mules that were grazing in
it. The chiefs of the war-party requested the regiment to halt, until
they could ride in, and inform their people who were coming. We then
dismounted for an hour or so; when we could see them busily running and
catching their horses; and at length, several hundreds of their braves
and warriors came out at full speed to welcome us, and forming in a
line in front of us, as we were again mounted, presented a formidable
and pleasing appearance (+plate+ 163). As they wheeled their horses,
they very rapidly formed in a line, and “dressed” like well-disciplined
cavalry. The regiment was drawn up in three columns, with a line formed
in front, by Colonel Dodge and his staff, in which rank my friend
Chadwick and I were also paraded; when we had a fine view of the whole
manœuvre, which was picturesque and thrilling in the extreme.
In the centre of our advance was stationed a white flag, and the
Indians answered to it with one which they sent forward and planted by
the side of it.[7]
The two lines were thus drawn up, face to face, within twenty or thirty
yards of each other, as inveterate foes that never had met; and, to the
everlasting credit of the Camanchees, whom the world had always looked
upon as murderous and hostile, they had all come out in this manner,
with their heads uncovered, and without a weapon of any kind, to meet a
war-party bristling with arms, and trespassing to the middle of their
country. They had every reason to look upon us as their natural enemy,
as they have been in the habit of estimating all pale faces; and yet,
instead of arms or defences, or even of frowns, they galloped out and
looked us in our faces, without an expression of fear or dismay, and
evidently with expressions of joy and impatient pleasure, to shake us
by the hand, on the bare assertion of Colonel Dodge, which had been
made to the chiefs, that “we came to see them on a friendly visit.”
After we had sat and gazed at each other in this way for some half an
hour or so, the head chief of the band came galloping up to Colonel
Dodge, and having shaken him by the hand, he passed on to the other
officers in turn, and then rode alongside of the different columns,
shaking hands with every dragoon in the regiment; he was followed in
this by his principal chiefs and braves, which altogether took up
nearly an hour longer, when the Indians retreated slowly towards their
village, escorting us to the banks of a fine clear stream, and a good
spring of fresh water, half a mile from their village, which they
designated as a suitable place for our encampment, and we were soon
bivouacked at the place from which I am now scribbling.
No sooner were we encamped here (or, in other words, as soon as our
things were thrown upon the ground,) Major Mason, Lieutenant Wheelock,
Captain Brown, Captain Duncan, my friend Chadwick and myself, galloped
off to the village, and through it in the greatest impatience to the
prairies, where there were at least three thousand horses and mules
grazing; all of us eager and impatient to see and to appropriate the
splendid _Arabian horses_, which we had so often heard were owned by
the Camanchee warriors. We galloped around busily, and glanced our eyes
rapidly over them; and all soon returned to the camp, quite “crest
fallen” and satisfied, that, although there were some tolerable nags
amongst this medley group of all colours and all shapes, the beautiful
Arabian we had so often heard of at the East, as belonging to the
Camanchees, must either be a great ways further South than this, or
else it must be a _horse of the imagination_.
The Camanchee horses are generally small, all of them being of the
wild breed, and a very tough and serviceable animal; and from what I
can learn here of the chiefs, there are yet, farther South, and nearer
the Mexican borders, some of the noblest animals in use of the chiefs,
yet I do not know that we have any more reason to rely upon this
information, than that which had made our horse-jockeys that we have
with us, to run almost crazy for the possession of those we were to
find at this place. Amongst the immense herds we found grazing here,
one-third perhaps are mules, which are much more valuable than the
horses.
Of the horses, the officers and men have purchased a number of the
best, by giving a very inferior blanket and butcher’s knife, costing
in all about four dollars! These horses in our cities at the East,
independent of the name, putting them upon their merits alone, would be
worth from eighty to one hundred dollars each, and not more.
A vast many of such could be bought on such terms, and are hourly
brought into camp for sale. If we had goods to trade for them, and
means of getting them home, a great profit could be made, which can
easily be learned from the following transaction that took place
yesterday. A fine looking Indian was hanging about my tent very closely
for several days, and continually scanning an old and half-worn cotton
umbrella, which I carried over me to keep off the sun, as I was
suffering with fever and ague, and at last proposed to purchase it of
me, with a very neat limbed and pretty pied horse which he was riding.
He proposed at first, that I should give him a knife and the umbrella,
but as I was not disposed for the trade (the umbrella being so useful
an article to me, that I did not know how to part with it, not knowing
whether there was another in the regiment); he came a second time, and
offered me the horse for the umbrella alone, which offer I still
rejected; and he went back to the village, and soon returned with
another horse of a much better quality, supposing that I had not valued
the former one equal to the umbrella.
[Illustration: 163]
With this he endeavoured to push the trade, and after I had with great
difficulty made him understand that I was sick, and could not part with
it, he turned and rode back towards the village, and in a short time
returned again with one of the largest and finest mules I ever saw,
proposing that, which I also rejected; when he _disappeared_ again.
In a few moments my friend Captain Duncan, in whose hospitable tent
I was quartered, came in, and the circumstance being related to him,
started up some warm jockey feelings, which he was thoroughly possessed
of, when he instantly sprang upon his feet, and exclaimed, “d——mn the
fellow! where is he gone? here, Gosset! get my old umbrella out of the
pack, I rolled it up with my wiper and the _frying-pan_—get it as quick
as lightning!” with it in his hand, the worthy Captain soon overtook
the young man, and escorted him into the village, and returned in a
short time—not with the mule, but with the second horse that had been
offered to me.
[6] There are many very curious traditions about the first
appearance of horses amongst the different tribes, and many of
which bear striking proof of the above fact. Most of the tribes
have some story about the first appearance of horses; and amongst
the Sioux, they have beautifully recorded the fact, by giving it
the name of Shonk a-wakon (the medicine-dog).
[7] It is a fact which I deem to be worth noting here, that amongst
all Indian tribes, that I have yet visited, in their primitive,
as well as improved state, the _white flag_ is used as a flag of
truce, as it is in the civilized parts of the world, and held to
be sacred and inviolable. The chief going to war always carries it
in some form or other, generally of a piece of white skin or bark,
rolled on a small stick, and carried under his dress, or otherwise;
and also a red flag, either to be unfurled when occasion requires
the _white flag_ as a truce, and the _red_ one for battle, or, as
they say, “for blood.”
LETTER—No. 42.
GREAT CAMANCHEE VILLAGE.
The village of the Camanchees by the side of which we are encamped, is
composed of six or eight hundred skin-covered lodges, made of poles and
buffalo skins, in the manner precisely as those of the Sioux and other
Missouri tribes, of which I have heretofore given some account. This
village with its thousands of wild inmates, with horses and dogs, and
wild sports and domestic occupations, presents a most curious scene;
and the manners and looks of the people, a rich subject for the brush
and the pen.
In the view I have made of it (+plate+ 164), but a small portion of
the village is shewn; which is as well as to shew the whole of it,
inasmuch as the wigwams, as well as the customs, are the same in every
part of it. In the foreground is seen the wigwam of the chief; and in
various parts, crotches and poles, on which the women are drying meat,
and “_graining_” buffalo robes. These people, living in a country
where buffaloes are abundant, make their wigwams more easily of their
skins, than of anything else; and with them find greater facilities of
moving about, as circumstances often require: when they drag them upon
the poles attached to their horses, and erect them again with little
trouble in their new residence.
We white men, strolling about amongst their wigwams, are looked upon
with as much curiosity as if we had come from the moon; and evidently
create a sort of chill in the blood of children and dogs, when we make
our appearance. I was pleased to-day with the simplicity of a group
which came out in front of the chief’s lodge to scrutinize my faithful
friend Chadwick and I, as we were strolling about the avenues and
labyrinths of their village; upon which I took out my book and sketched
as quick as lightning, whilst “Joe” rivetted their attention by some
ingenious trick or other, over my shoulders, which I did not see,
having no time to turn my head (+plate+ 165). These were the juvenile
parts of the chief’s family, and all who at this moment were at home;
the venerable old man, and his three or four wives, making a visit,
like hundreds of others, to the encampment.
In speaking just above, of the mode of moving their wigwams, and
changing their encampments, I should have said a little more, and
should also have given to the reader, a sketch of one of these
extraordinary scenes, which I have had the good luck to witness
(+plate+ 166); where several thousands were on the march, and
furnishing one of those laughable scenes which daily happen, where so
many dogs, and so many squaws, are travelling in such a confused mass;
with so many conflicting interests, and so many local and individual
rights to be pertinaciously claimed and protected. Each horse drags his
load, and each dog, _i. e._ each dog that _will_ do it (and there are
many that will _not_), also dragging his wallet on a couple of poles;
and each squaw with her load, and all together (notwithstanding their
burthens) cherishing their pugnacious feelings, which often bring them
into general conflict, commencing usually amongst the dogs, and sure
to result in fisticuffs of the women; whilst the men, riding leisurely
on the right or the left, take infinite pleasure in overlooking these
desperate conflicts, at which they are sure to have a laugh, and in
which, as sure never to lend a hand.
[Illustration: 164]
[Illustration: 165]
[Illustration: 166]
The Camanchees, like the Northern tribes, have many games, and in
pleasant weather seem to be continually practicing more or less of
them, on the prairies, back of, and contiguous to, their village.
In their ball-plays, and some other games, they are far behind the
Sioux and others of the Northern tribes; but, in racing horses and
riding, they are not equalled by any other Indians on the Continent.
Racing horses, it would seem, is a constant and almost incessant
exercise, and their principal mode of gambling; and perhaps, a more
finished set of jockeys are not to be found. The exercise of these
people, in a country where horses are so abundant, and the country
so fine for riding, is chiefly done on horseback; and it “stands to
reason,” that such a people, who have been practicing from their
childhood, should become exceedingly expert in this wholesome and
beautiful exercise. Amongst their feats of riding, there is one that
has astonished me more than anything of the kind I have ever seen, or
expect to see, in my life:—a stratagem of war, learned and practiced
by every young man in the tribe; by which he is able to drop his body
upon the side of his horse at the instant he is passing, effectually
screened from his enemies’ weapons (+plate+ 167) as he lays in a
horizontal position behind the body of his horse, with his heel hanging
over the horses back; by which he has the power of throwing himself up
again, and changing to the other side of the horse if necessary. In
this wonderful condition, he will hang whilst his horse is at fullest
speed, carrying with him his bow and his shield, and also his long
lance of fourteen feet in length, all or either of which he will wield
upon his enemy as he passes; rising and throwing his arrows over the
horse’s back, or with equal ease and equal success under the horse’s
neck.[8] This astonishing feat which the young men have been repeatedly
playing off to our surprise as well as amusement, whilst they have
been galloping about in front of our tents, completely puzzled the
whole of us; and appeared to be the result of magic, rather than
of skill acquired by practice. I had several times great curiosity
to approach them, to ascertain by what means their bodies could be
suspended in this manner, where nothing could be seen but the heel
hanging over the horse’s back. In these endeavours I was continually
frustrated, until one day I coaxed a young fellow up within a little
distance of me, by offering him a few plugs of tobacco, and he in a
moment solved the difficulty, so far as to render it apparently more
feasible than before; yet leaving it one of the most extraordinary
results of practice and persevering endeavours. I found on examination,
that a short hair halter was passed around under the neck of the horse,
and both ends tightly braided into the mane, on the withers, leaving
a loop to hang under the neck, and against the breast, which, being
caught up in the hand, makes a sling into which the elbow falls, taking
the weight of the body on the middle of the upper arm. Into this loop
the rider drops suddenly and fearlessly, leaving his heel to hang over
the back of the horse, to steady him, and also to restore him when he
wishes to regain his upright position on the horse’s back.
Besides this wonderful art, these people have several other feats
of horsemanship, which they are continually showing off; which are
pleasing and extraordinary, and of which they seem very proud. A people
who spend so very great a part of their lives, actually on their
horses’ backs, must needs become exceedingly expert in every thing that
pertains to riding—to war, or to the chase; and I am ready, without
hesitation, to pronounce the Camanchees the most extraordinary horsemen
that I have seen yet in all my travels, and I doubt very much whether
any people in the world can surpass them.
The Camanchees are in stature, rather low, and in person, often
approaching to corpulency. In their movements, they are heavy and
ungraceful; and on their feet, one of the most unattractive and
slovenly-looking races of Indians that I have ever seen; but the
moment they mount their horses, they seem at once metamorphosed, and
surprise the spectator with the ease and elegance of their movements. A
Camanchee on his feet is out of his element, and comparatively almost
as awkward as a monkey on the ground, without a limb or a branch to
cling to; but the moment he lays his hand upon his horse, his _face_,
even, becomes handsome, and he gracefully flies away like a different
being.
Our encampment is surrounded by continual swarms of old and young—of
middle aged—of male and female—of dogs, and every moving thing that
constitutes their community; and our tents are lined with the chiefs
and other worthies of the tribe. So it will be seen there is no
difficulty of getting subjects enough for my brush, as well as for my
pen, whilst residing in this place.
The head chief of this village, who is represented to us here, as the
head of the nation, is a mild and pleasant looking gentleman, without
anything striking or peculiar in his looks (+plate+ 168); dressed in a
very humble manner, with very few ornaments upon him, and his hair
carelessly falling about his face, and over his shoulders. The name of
this chief is Ee-shah-ko-nee (the bow and quiver). The only ornaments
to be seen about him were a couple of beautiful shells worn in his
ears, and a boar’s tusk attached to his neck, and worn on his breast.
[Illustration: 167]
[Illustration: 168 169]
[Illustration: 170 171]
For several days after we arrived at this place, there was a huge mass
of flesh (+plate+ 169), Ta-wah-que-nah (the mountain of rocks), who was
put forward as head chief of the tribe; and all honours were being paid
to him by the regiment of dragoons, until the above-mentioned chief
arrived from the country, where it seems he was leading a war-party;
and had been sent for, no doubt, on the occasion. When he arrived, this
huge monster, who is the largest and fattest Indian I ever saw, stepped
quite into the background, giving way to this admitted chief, who
seemed to have the confidence and respect of the whole tribe.
This enormous man, whose flesh would undoubtedly weigh three hundred
pounds or more, took the most wonderful strides in the exercise of
his temporary authority; which, in all probability, he was lawfully
exercising in the absence of his superior, as second chief of the tribe.
A perfect personation of Jack Falstaff, in size and in figure, with an
African face, and a beard on his chin of two or three inches in length.
His name, he tells me, he got from having conducted a large party of
Camanchees through a secret and subterraneous passage, entirely through
the mountain of granite rocks, which lies back of their village;
thereby saving their lives from their more powerful enemy, who had
“cornered them up” in such a way, that there was no other possible mode
for their escape. The mountain under which he conducted them, is called
_Ta-wah-que-nah_ (the mountain of rocks), and from this he has received
his name, which would certainly have been far more appropriate if it
had been a _mountain of flesh_.
Corpulency is a thing exceedingly rare to be found in any of the
tribes, amongst the men, owing, probably, to the exposed and active
sort of lives they lead; and that in the absence of all the spices of
life, many of which have their effect in producing this disgusting, as
well as unhandy and awkward extravagance in civilized society.
Ish-a-ro-yeh (he who carries a wolf, +plate+ 170); and Is-sa-wah-tam-ah
(the wolf tied with hair, +plate+ 171); are also chiefs of some
standing in the tribe, and evidently men of great influence, as they
were put forward by the head chiefs, for their likenesses to be painted
in turn, after their own. The first of the two seemed to be the leader
of the war-party which we met, and of which I have spoken; and in
escorting us to their village, this man took the lead and piloted us
the whole way, in consequence of which Colonel Dodge presented him a
very fine gun.
His-oo-san-ches (the Spaniard, +plate+ 172), a gallant little fellow,
is represented to us as one of the leading warriors of the tribe; and
no doubt is one of the most extraordinary men at present living in
these regions. He is half Spanish, and being a half-breed, for whom
they generally have the most contemptuous feelings, he has been all
his life thrown into the front of battle and danger; at which posts
he has signalized himself, and commanded the highest admiration and
respect of the tribe, for his daring and adventurous career. This is
the man of whom I have before spoken, who dashed out so boldly from
the war-party, and came to us with the white flag raised on the point
of his lance, and of whom I have made a sketch in +plate+ 157. I have
here represented him as he stood for me, with his shield on his arm,
with his quiver slung, and his lance of fourteen feet in length in his
right hand. This extraordinary little man, whose figure was light,
seemed to be all bone and muscle, and exhibited immense power, by the
curve of the bones in his legs and his arms. We had many exhibitions of
his extraordinary strength, as well as agility; and of his gentlemanly
politeness and friendship, we had as frequent evidences. As an instance
of this, I will recite an occurrence which took place but a few days
since, when we were moving our encampment to a more desirable ground
on another side of their village. We had a deep and powerful stream to
ford, when we had several men who were sick, and obliged to be carried
on litters. My friend “Joe” and I came up in the rear of the regiment,
where the litters with the sick were passing, and we found this little
fellow up to his chin in the muddy water, wading and carrying one
end of each litter on his head, as they were in turn, passed over.
After they had all passed, this gallant little fellow beckoned to
me to dismount, and take a seat on his shoulders, which I declined;
preferring to stick to my horse’s back, which I did, as he took it by
the bridle and conducted it through the shallowest ford. When I was
across, I took from my belt a handsome knife and presented it to him,
which seemed to please him very much.
Besides the above-named chiefs and warriors, I painted the portrait of
_Kots-o-ko-ro-ko_ (the hair of the bull’s neck); and _Hah-nee_ (the
beaver); the first, a chief, and the second, a warrior of terrible
aspect, and also of considerable distinction. These and many other
paintings, as well as manufactures from this tribe, may be always seen
in my +Museum+, if I have the good luck to get them safe home from this
wild and remote region.
From what I have already seen of the Camanchees, I am fully convinced
that they are a numerous and very powerful tribe, and quite equal in
numbers and prowess, to the accounts generally given of them.
It is entirely impossible at present to make a correct estimate of
their numbers; but taking their own account of villages they point
to in such numbers, South of the banks of the Red River, as well as
those that lie farther West, and undoubtedly North of its banks, they
must be a very numerous tribe; and I think I am able to say, from
estimates that these chiefs have made me, that they number some 30 or
40,000—being able to shew some 6 or 7000 warriors, well-mounted and
well-armed. This estimate I offer not as conclusive, for so little is
as yet known of these people, that no estimate can be implicitly
relied upon other than that, which, in general terms, pronounces them
to be a very numerous and warlike tribe.
[Illustration: 172]
We shall learn much more of them before we get out of their country;
and I trust that it will yet be in my power to give something like a
fair census of them before we have done with them.
They speak much of their allies and friends, the Pawnee Picts, living
to the West some three or four days’ march, whom we are going to visit
in a few days, and afterwards return to this village, and then “bend
our course” homeward, or, in other words, back to Fort Gibson. Besides
the Pawnee Picts, there are the Kiowas and Wicos; small tribes that
live in the same vicinity, and also in the same alliance, whom we shall
probably see on our march. Every preparation is now making to be off in
a few days—and I shall omit further remarks on the Camanchees, until
we return, when I shall probably have much more to relate of them and
their customs. So many of the men and officers are getting sick, that
the little command will be very much crippled, from the necessity we
shall be under, of leaving about thirty sick, and about an equal number
of well to take care of and protect them; for which purpose, we are
constructing a fort, with a sort of breastwork of timbers and bushes,
which will be ready in a day or two; and the sound part of the command
prepared to start with several Camanchee leaders, who have agreed to
pilot the way.
[8] Since writing the above, I have conversed with some of the
young men of the Pawnees, who practice the same feat, and who told
me they could throw the arrow from under the horse’s belly, and
elevate it upon an enemy with deadly effect!
This feat I did not see performed, but from what I did see, I feel
inclined to believe that these young men were boasting of no more
than they were able to perform.
LETTER—No. 43.
GREAT CAMANCHEE VILLAGE.
The above Letter it will be seen, was written some time ago, and when
all hands (save those who were too sick) were on the start for the
Pawnee village. Amongst those exceptions was I, before the hour of
starting had arrived; and as the dragoons have made their visit there
and returned in a most jaded condition, and I have again got well
enough to write, I will render some account of the excursion, which is
from the pen and the pencil of my friend Joe, who went with them and
took my sketch and note-books in his pocket.
“We were four days travelling over a beautiful country, most of the
way prairie, and generally along near the base of a stupendous range
of mountains of reddish granite, in many places piled up to an immense
height without tree or shrubbery on them; looking as if they had
actually dropped from the clouds in such a confused mass, and all
lay where they had fallen. Such we found the mountains enclosing the
Pawnee village, on the bank of Red River, about ninety miles from the
Camanchee town. The dragoon regiment was drawn up within half a mile or
so of this village, and encamped in a square, where we remained three
days. We found here a very numerous village, containing some five or
six hundred wigwams, all made of long prairie grass, thatched over
poles which are fastened in the ground and bent in at the top; giving
to them, in distance, the appearance of straw beehives as in +plate+
173, which is an accurate view of it, shewing the Red River in front,
and the “_mountains of rocks_” behind it.
“To our very great surprise, we have found these people cultivating
quite extensive fields of corn (maize), pumpkins, melons, beans and
squashes; so, with these aids, and an abundant supply of buffalo meat,
they may be said to be living very well.
“The next day after our arrival here, Colonel Dodge opened a council
with the chiefs, in the chief’s lodge, where he had the most of his
officers around him. He first explained to them the friendly views
with which he came to see them; and of the wish of our Government to
establish a lasting peace with them, which they seemed at once to
appreciate and highly to estimate.
“The head chief of the tribe is a very old man, and he several times
replied to Colonel Dodge in a very eloquent manner; assuring him
of the friendly feelings of his chiefs and warriors towards the pale
faces, in the direction from whence we came.
[Illustration: 173]
“After Colonel Dodge had explained in general terms, the objects of our
visit, he told them that he should expect from them some account of the
foul murder of Judge Martin and his family on the False Washita, which
had been perpetrated but a few weeks before, and which the Camanchees
had told us was done by the Pawnee Picts. The Colonel told them, also,
that he learned from the Camanchees, that they had the little boy,
the son of the murdered gentleman, in their possession; and that he
should expect them to deliver him up, as an indispensable condition of
the friendly arrangement that was now making. They positively denied
the fact, and all knowledge of it; firmly assuring us that they knew
nothing of the murder, or of the boy. The demand was repeatedly made,
and as often denied; until at length a negro-man was discovered, who
was living with the Pawnees, who spoke good English; and coming into
the council-house, gave information that such a boy had recently been
brought into their village, and was now a prisoner amongst them. This
excited great surprise and indignation in the council, and Colonel
Dodge then informed the chiefs that the council would rest here; and
certainly nothing further of a peaceable nature would transpire until
the boy was brought in. In this alarming dilemma, all remained in
gloomy silence for awhile; when Colonel Dodge further informed the
chiefs, that as an evidence of his friendly intentions towards them,
he had, on starting, purchased at a very great price, from their
enemies the Osages, two Pawnee (and one Kiowa) girls; which had been
held by them for some years as prisoners, and which he had brought the
whole way home, and had here ready to be delivered to their friends
and relations; but whom he certainly would never show, until the
little boy was produced. He also made another demand, which was for
the restoration of an United States ranger, by the name of Abbé, who
had been captured by them during the summer before. They acknowledged
the seizure of this man, and all solemnly declared that he had been
taken by a party of the Camanchees, over whom they had no controul,
and carried beyond the Red River into the Mexican provinces, where
he was put to death. They held a long consultation about the boy,
and seeing their plans defeated by the evidence of the negro; and
also being convinced of the friendly disposition of the Colonel, by
bringing home their prisoners from the Osages, they sent out and had
the boy brought in, from the middle of a corn-field, where he had been
secreted. He is a smart and very intelligent boy of nine years of
age, and when he came in, he was entirely naked, as they keep their
own boys of that age. There was a great excitement in the council
when the little fellow was brought in; and as he passed amongst them,
he looked around and exclaimed with some surprise, “What! are there
white men here?” to which Colonel Dodge replied, and asked his name;
and he promptly answered, “my name is Matthew Wright Martin.” He was
then received into Colonel Dodge’s arms; and an order was immediately
given for the Pawnee and Kiowa girls to be brought forward; they were
in a few minutes brought into the council-house, when they were at
once recognized by their friends and relatives, who embraced them with
the most extravagant expressions of joy and satisfaction. The heart
of the venerable old chief was melted at this evidence of white man’s
friendship, and he rose upon his feet, and taking Colonel Dodge in his
arms, and placing his left cheek against the left cheek of the Colonel,
held him for some minutes without saying a word, whilst tears were
flowing from his eyes. He then embraced each officer in turn, in the
same silent and affectionate manner; which form took half an hour or
more, before it was completed.[9]
“From this moment the council, which before had been a very grave and
uncertain one, took a pleasing and friendly turn. And this excellent
old man ordered the women to supply the dragoons with something to eat,
as they were hungry.
“The little encampment, which heretofore was in a woeful condition,
having eaten up their last rations twelve hours before, were now
gladdened by the approach of a number of women, who brought their
“back loads” of dried buffalo meat and green corn, and threw it down
amongst them. This seemed almost like a providential deliverance, for
the country between here and the Camanchees, was entirely destitute of
game, and our last provisions were consumed.
“The council thus proceeded successfully and pleasantly for several
days, whilst the warriors of the Kiowas and Wicos, two adjoining and
friendly tribes living further to the West, were arriving; and also a
great many from other bands of the Camanchees, who had heard of our
arrival; until two thousand or more of these wild and fearless-looking
fellows were assembled, and all, from their horses’ backs, with
weapons in hand, were looking into our pitiful little encampment,
of two hundred men, all in a state of dependence and almost literal
starvation; and at the same time nearly one half the number too sick to
have made a successful resistance if we were to have been attacked.” *
* * * * * * * * * *
The command returned to this village after an absence of fifteen days,
in a fatigued and destitute condition, with scarcely anything to eat,
or chance of getting anything here; in consequence of which, Colonel
Dodge almost instantly ordered preparations to be made for a move to
the head of the Canadian river, a distance of an hundred or more miles,
where the Indians represented to us there would be found immense herds
of buffaloes; a place where we could get enough to eat, and by lying by
awhile, could restore the sick, who are now occupying a great number of
litters. Some days have elapsed, however, and we are not quite
ready for the start yet. And during that time, continual parties of the
Pawnee Picts and Kioways have come up; and also Camanchees, from other
villages, to get a look at us, and many of them are volunteering to go
in with us to the frontier.
[Illustration: 174 175]
[Illustration: 176 177]
[Illustration: 178 179]
[Illustration: 180 181]
[Illustration: 182]
[Illustration: 183]
The world who know me, will see that I can scarcely be idle under such
circumstances as these, where so many subjects for my brush and my pen
are gathering about me.
The Pawnee Picts, Kioways, and Wicos are the subjects that I am most
closely scanning at this moment, and I have materials enough around me.
The Pawnee Picts are undoubtedly a numerous and powerful tribe,
occupying, with the Kioways and Wicos, the whole country on the head
waters of the Red River, and quite into and through the southern part
of the Rocky Mountains. The old chief told me by signs, enumerating
with his hands and fingers, that they had altogether three thousand
warriors; which if true, estimating according to the usual rule, one
warrior to four, would make the whole number about twelve thousand;
and, allowing a fair per-centage for boasting or bragging, of which
they are generally a little guilty in such cases, there would be at
a fair calculation from eight to ten thousand. These then, in an
established alliance with the great tribe of Camanchees, hunting and
feasting together, and ready to join in common defence of their country
become a very formidable enemy when attacked on their own ground.
The name of the Pawnee Picts, we find to be in their own language,
Tow-ee-ahge, the meaning of which I have not yet learned. I have
ascertained also, that these people are in no way related to the
Pawnees of the Platte, who reside a thousand miles or more North of
them, and know them only as enemies. There is no family or tribal
resemblance; nor any in their language or customs. The Pawnees of the
Platte shave the head, and the Pawnee Picts abominate the custom;
allowing their hair to grow like the Camanchees and other tribes.
The old chief of the Pawnee Picts, of whom I have before spoken, and
whose name is We-ta-ra-sha-ro (+plate+ 174), is undoubtedly a very
excellent and kind-hearted old man, of ninety or more years of age,
and has consented to accompany us, with a large party of his people,
to Fort Gibson; where Colonel Dodge has promised to return him liberal
presents from the Government, for the friendship he has evinced on the
present occasion.
The second chief of this tribe, Sky-se-ro-ka (+plate+ 175), we found to
be a remarkably clever man, and much approved and valued in his tribe.
The Pawnee Picts, as well as the Camanchees, are generally a very
clumsy and ordinary looking set of men, when on their feet; but being
fine horsemen, are equally improved in appearance as soon as they mount
upon their horses’ backs.
Amongst the women of this tribe, there were many that were exceedingly
pretty in feature and in form; and also in expression, though their
skins are very dark. The dress of the men in this tribe, as amongst
the Camanchees, consists generally in leggings of dressed skins, and
moccasins; with a flap or breech clout, made also of dressed skins or
furs, and often very beautifully ornamented with shells, &c. Above the
waist they seldom wear any drapery, owing to the warmth of the climate,
which will rarely justify it; and their heads are generally uncovered
with a head-dress, like the Northern tribes who live in a colder
climate, and actually require them for comfort.
The women of the Camanchees and Pawnee Picts, are always decently and
comfortably clad, being covered generally with a gown or slip, that
reaches from the chin quite down to the ancles, made of deer or elk
skins; often garnished very prettily, and ornamented with long fringes
of elk’s teeth, which are fastened on them in rows, and more highly
valued than any other ornament they can put upon them.
In +plates+ 176 and 177, I have given the portraits of two Pawnee
girls, Kah-kee-tsee (the thighs), and She-de-a (wild sage), the
two Pawnee women who had been held as prisoners by the Osages, and
purchased by the Indian Commissioner, the Reverend Mr. Schemmerhom, and
brought home to their own people, and delivered up in the Pawnee town,
in the manner that I have just described.
The Kioways are a much finer looking race of men, than either the
Camanchees or Pawnees—are tall and erect, with an easy and graceful
gait—with long hair, cultivated oftentimes so as to reach nearly to
the ground. They have generally the fine and Roman outline of head,
that is so frequently found at the North,—and decidedly distinct from
that of the Camanchees and Pawnee Picts. These men speak a language
distinct from both of the others; and in fact, the Camanchees and
Pawnee Picts—and Kioways, and Wicos, are all so distinctly different
in their languages, as to appear in that respect as total strangers to
each other.[10]
The head chief of the Kioways, whose name is Teh-toot-sah (+plate+
178), we found to be a very gentlemanly and high minded man, who
treated the dragoons and officers with great kindness while in his
country. His long hair, which was put up in several large clubs, and
ornamented with a great many silver broaches, extended quite down to
his knees. This distinguished man, as well as several others of his
tribe, have agreed to join us on the march to Fort Gibson; so I shall
have much of their company yet, and probably much more to say of
them at a future period. Bon-son-gee (the new fire, +plate+ 179) is
another chief of this tribe, and called a very good man; the principal
ornaments which he carried on his person were a boar’s tusk and his
war-whistle, which were hanging on his breast.
Quay-ham-kay (the stone shell, +plate+ 180), is another fair specimen
of the warriors of this tribe; and, if I mistake not, somewhat allied
to the mysteries and arcana of the healing art, from the close company
he keeps with my friend Dr. Findley, who is surgeon to the regiment,
and by whom I have been employed to make a copy of my portrait of this
distinguished personage.
In +plate+ 181, Wun-pan-to-mee (the white weasel), a girl; and
Tunk-aht-oh-ye (the thunderer), a boy; who are brother and sister,
are two Kioways who were purchased from the Osages, to be taken to
their tribe by the dragoons. The girl was taken the whole distance
with us, on horseback, to the Pawnee village, and there delivered to
her friends, as I have before mentioned; and the fine little boy was
killed at the Fur Trader’s house on the banks of the Verdigris, near
Fort Gibson, the day after I painted his portrait, and only a few days
before he was to have started with us on the march. He was a beautiful
boy of nine or ten years of age, and was killed by a ram, which struck
him in the abdomen, and knocking him against a fence, killed him
instantly.
Kots-a-to-ah (the smoked shield, +plate+ 182), is another of the
extraordinary men of this tribe, near seven feet in stature, and
distinguished, not only as one of the greatest warriors, but the
swiftest on foot, in the nation. This man, it is said, runs down a
buffalo on foot, and slays it with his knife or his lance, as he runs
by its side!
In +plate+ 183, is the portrait of Ush-ee-kitz (he who fights with a
feather) head chief of the Wi-co tribe, a very polite and polished
Indian, in his manners, and remarkable for his mode of _embracing_ the
officers and others in council.
In the different talks and councils that we have had with these people,
this man has been a conspicuous speaker; and always, at the end of
his speeches, has been in the habit of stepping forward and embracing
friends and foes, all that were about him, taking each one in turn,
closely and affectionately in his arms, with his left cheek against
theirs, and thus holding them tightly for several minutes.
All the above chiefs and braves, and many others, forming a very
picturesque cavalcade, will move off with us in a day or two, on our
way back to Fort Gibson, where it is to be hoped we may arrive more
happy than we are in our present jaded and sickly condition.
[9] The little boy of whom I have spoken, was brought in the whole
distance to Fort Gibson, in the arms of the dragoons, who took
turns in carrying him; and after the command arrived there, he was
transmitted to the Red River, by an officer, who had the enviable
satisfaction of delivering him into the arms of his disconsolate
and half-distracted mother.
[10] I have several times, in former parts of this work, spoken
of the great number of different Indian languages which I have
visited, and given my opinion, as to the dissimilarity and
distinctness of their character. And would refer the reader for
further information on this subject, as well as for a vocabulary of
several languages, to the Appendix to this Volume, letter B.
LETTER—No. 44.
CAMP CANADIAN, _TEXAS_.
Six days of severe travelling have brought us from the Camanchee
village to the North bank of the Canadian, where we are snugly encamped
on a beautiful plain, and in the midst of countless numbers of
buffaloes; and halting a few days to recruit our horses and men, and
dry meat to last us the remainder of our journey.
The plains around this, for many miles, seem actually speckled in
distance, and in every direction, with herds of grazing buffaloes; and
for several days, the officers and men have been indulged in a general
licence to gratify their sporting propensities; and a scene of bustle
and cruel slaughter it has been, to be sure! From morning till night,
the camp has been daily almost deserted; the men have dispersed in
little squads in all directions, and are dealing death to these poor
creatures to a most cruel and wanton extent, merely for the pleasure of
_destroying_, generally without stopping to cut out the meat. During
yesterday and this day, several hundreds have undoubtedly been killed,
and not so much as the flesh of half a dozen used. Such immense swarms
of them are spread over this tract of country; and so divided and
terrified have they become, finding their enemies in all directions
where they run, that the poor beasts seem completely bewildered—running
here and there, and as often as otherwise, come singly advancing to
the horsemen, as if to join them for their company, and are easily
shot down. In the turmoil and confusion, when their assailants have
been pushing them forward, they have galloped through our encampment,
jumping over our fires, upsetting pots and kettles, driving horses from
their fastenings, and throwing the whole encampment into the greatest
instant consternation and alarm. The hunting fever will be satiated in
a few days amongst the young men, who are well enough to take parts in
the chase; and the bilious fever, it is to be hoped, will be abated in
a short time, amongst those who are invalid, and meat enough will be
dried to last us to Fort Gibson, when we shall be on the march again,
and wending our way towards that garrison.
Many are now sick and unable to ride, and are carried on litters
between two horses. Nearly every tent belonging to the officers has
been converted to hospitals for the sick; and sighs and groaning are
heard in all directions. From the Camanchee village to this place, the
country has been entirely prairie; and most of the way high and dry
ground, without water, for which we sometimes suffered very much. From
day to day we have dragged along exposed to the hot and burning rays of
the sun, without a cloud to relieve its intensity, or a bush to shade
us, or anything to cast a shadow, except the bodies of our horses. The
grass for a great part of the way, was very much dried up, scarcely
affording a bite for our horses; and sometimes for the distance of
many miles, the only water we could find, was in stagnant pools, lying
on the highest ground, in which the buffaloes have been lying and
wallowing like hogs in a mud-puddle. We frequently came to these dirty
lavers, from which we drove the herds of wallowing buffaloes, and into
which our poor and almost dying horses, irresistibly ran and plunged
their noses, sucking up the dirty and poisonous draught, until, in some
instances, they fell dead in their tracks—the men also (and oftentimes
amongst the number, the writer of these lines) sprang from their
horses, and laded up and drank to almost fatal excess, the disgusting
and tepid draught, and with it filled their canteens, which were slung
to their sides, and from which they were sucking the bilious contents
during the day.
In our march we found many deep ravines, in the bottoms of which there
were the marks of wild and powerful streams; but in this season of
drought they were all dried up, except an occasional one, where we
found them dashing along in the coolest and clearest manner, and on
trial, to our great agony, so _salt_ that even our horses could not
drink from them; so we had occasionally the tantalizing pleasure of
hearing the roar of, and looking into, the clearest and most sparkling
streams; and after that the dire necessity of drinking from stagnant
pools which lay from month to month exposed to the rays of the sun,
till their waters become so poisonous and heavy, from the loss of their
vital principle, that they are neither diminished by absorption, or
taken into the atmosphere by evaporation.
This poisonous and indigestible water, with the intense rays of the
sun in the hottest part of the summer, is the cause of the unexampled
sickness of the horses and men. Both appear to be suffering and dying
with the same disease, a slow and distressing bilious fever, which
seems to terminate in a most frightful and fatal affection of the liver.
In these several cruel days’ march, I have suffered severely, having
had all the time (and having yet) a distracting fever on me. My real
friend, Joe, has constantly rode by my side, dismounting and filling my
canteen for me, and picking up minerals or fossils, which my jaundiced
eyes were able to discover as we were passing over them; or doing other
kind offices for me, when I was too weak to mount my horse without
aid. During this march over these dry and parched plains, we picked up
many curious things of the fossil and mineral kind, and besides them
a number of the horned frogs. In our portmanteaux we had a number of
tin boxes in which we had carried Seidlitz powders, in which we caged
a number of them safely, in hopes to carry them home alive. Several
remarkable specimens my friend Joe has secured of these, with the horns
of half and three-fourths of an inch in length, and very sharp at the
points.
These curious subjects have so often fallen under my eye while on the
Upper Missouri, that with me, they have lost their novelty in a great
degree; but they have amused and astonished my friend Chadwick so
much, that he declares he will take every one he can pick up, and make
a sensation with them when he gets home. In this way Joe’s fancy for
horned frogs has grown into a sort of _frog-mania_, and his eyes are
strained all day, and gazing amongst the grass and pebbles as he rides
along, for his precious little prizes, which he occasionally picks up
and consigns to his pockets.[11]
On one of these hard day’s march, and just at night, whilst we were
looking out for water, and a suitable place to encamp, Joe and I
galloped off a mile or two to the right of the regiment, to a point of
timber, to look for water, where we found a small and sunken stagnant
pool; and as our horses plunged their feet into it to drink, we saw
to our great surprise, a number of frogs hopping across its surface,
as our horses started them from the shore! Several of them stopped in
the middle of the pool, sitting quite “high and dry” on the surface of
the water; and when we approached them nearer, or jostled them, they
made a leap into the air, and coming down head foremost—went under the
water and secreted themselves at the bottom. Here was a subject for
Joe, in his own line! frogs with horns, and frogs with _webbed feet_,
that could hop about, and sit upon, the surface of the water! We rode
around the pool and drove a number of them into it, and fearing that
it would be useless to try to get one of them that evening; we rode
back to the encampment, exulting very much in the curious discovery
we had made for the naturalists; and by relating to some of the
officers what we had seen, got excessively laughed at for our wonderful
discovery! Nevertheless, Joe and I could not disbelieve what we had
seen so distinctly “with our own eyes;” and we took to ourselves (or
in other words, I acquiesced in Joe’s taking to _himself_, as it was
so peculiarly in his line) the most unequivocal satisfaction in the
curious and undoubted discovery of this new variety; and we made our
arrangements to ride back to the spot before “_bugle call_” in the
morning; and by a thorough effort, to obtain a specimen or two of the
web-footed frogs for Joe’s pocket, to be by him introduced to the
consideration of the knowing ones in the East. Well, our horses were
saddled at an early hour, and Joe and I were soon on the spot—and he
with a handkerchief at the end of a little pole, with which he had
made a sort of scoop-net, soon dipped one up as it was hopping along
on the surface of the water, and making unsuccessful efforts to dive
through its surface. On examining its feet, we found, to our very great
surprise, that we had taken a great deal of pains to entrap an old
and familiar little acquaintance of our boyhood; but, somewhat like
ourselves, unfortunately, from dire necessity, driven to a loathsome
pool, where the water was so foul and slimy, that it could hop and
dance about its surface with dry feet; and where it oftentimes found
difficulty in diving through the surface to hide itself at the bottom.
I laughed a great deal at poor Joe’s most cruel expense, and we amused
ourselves a few minutes about this filthy and curious pool, and rode
back to the encampment. We found by taking the water up in the hollow
of the hand, and dipping the finger in it, and drawing it over the
side, thus conducting a little of it out; it was so slimy that the
whole would run over the side of the hand in a moment!
We were joked and teased a great deal about our _web-footed frogs_; and
after this, poor Joe has had repeatedly to take out and exhibit his
little pets in his pockets, to convince our travelling companions that
_frogs sometimes actually have horns_.
Since writing the above, an express has arrived from the encampment,
which we left at the mouth of False Washita, with the melancholy
tidings of the death of General Leavenworth, Lieutenant M‘Clure, and
ten or fifteen of the men left at that place! This has cast a gloom
over our little encampment here, and seems to be received as a fatal
foreboding by those who are sick with the same disease; and many of
them, poor fellows, with scarce a hope left now for their recovery.
It seems that the General had moved on our trail a few days after we
left the Washita, to the “Cross Timbers,” a distance of fifty or sixty
miles, where his disease at last terminated his existence; and I am
inclined to think, as I before mentioned, in consequence of the injury
he sustained in a fall from his horse when running a buffalo calf. My
reason for believing this, is, that I rode and ate with him every day
after the hour of his fall; and from that moment I was quite sure that
I saw a different expression in his face, from that which he naturally
wore; and when riding by the side of him two or three days after his
fall, I observed to him, “General, you have a very bad cough”—“Yes,”
he replied, “I have killed myself in running that devilish calf; and
it was a very lucky thing, Catlin, that you painted the portrait of me
before we started, for it is all that my dear wife will ever see of me.”
We shall be on the move again in a few days; and I plainly see that
I shall be upon a litter, unless my horrid fever leaves me, which is
daily taking away my strength, and almost, at times, my senses. Adieu!
[11] Several months after this, when I visited my friend Joe’s room
in St. Louis, he shewed me his horned frogs in their little tin
boxes, in good flesh and good condition, where they had existed
several months, without food of any kind.
LETTER—No. 45.
FORT GIBSON, _ARKANSAS_.
The last Letter was written from my tent, and out upon the wild
prairies, when I was shaken and _terrified_ by a burning fever, with
home and my dear wife and little one, two thousand miles ahead of me,
whom I was despairing of ever embracing again. I am now scarcely better
off, except that I am in comfortable quarters, with kind attendance,
and friends about me. I am yet sick and very feeble, having been for
several weeks upon my back since I was brought in from the prairies.
I am slowly recovering, and for the first time since I wrote from the
Canadian, able to use my pen or my brush.
We drew off from that slaughtering ground a few days after my last
Letter was written, with a great number sick carried upon litters—with
horses giving out and dying by the way, which much impeded our progress
over the long and tedious route that laid between us and Fort Gibson.
Fifteen days, however, of constant toil and fatigue brought us here,
but in a most crippled condition. Many of the sick were left by the
way with attendants to take care of them, others were buried from
their litters on which they breathed their last while travelling, and
many others were brought in, to this place, merely to die and get the
privilege of a decent burial.
Since the very day of our start into that country, the men have been
constantly falling sick, and on their return, of those who are alive,
there are not well ones enough to take care of the sick. Many are
yet left out upon the prairies, and of those that have been brought
in, and quartered in the hospital, with the soldiers of the infantry
regiment stationed here, four or five are buried daily; and as an equal
number from the 9th regiment are falling by the same disease, I have
the mournful sound of “Roslin Castle” with muffled drums, passing six
or eight times a-day under my window, to the burying-ground; which is
but a little distance in front of my room, where I can lay in my bed
and see every poor fellow lowered down into his silent and peaceful
habitation. During the day before yesterday, no less than eight solemn
processions visited that insatiable ground, and amongst them was
carried the corpse of my intimate and much-loved friend Lieutenant
West, who was aid-de-camp to General Leavenworth, on this disastrous
campaign, and who has left in this place, a worthy and distracted
widow, with her little ones to mourn for his untimely end. On the
same day was buried also the Prussian Botanist, a most excellent and
scientific gentleman, who had obtained an order from the Secretary at
War to accompany the expedition for scientific purposes. He had at St.
Louis, purchased a very comfortable dearborn waggon, and a snug span
of little horses to convey himself and his servant with his collection
of plants, over the prairies. In this he travelled in company with the
regiment from St. Louis to Fort Gibson some five or six hundred miles
and from that to the False Washita, and the Cross Timbers and back
again. In this Tour he had made an immense, and no doubt, very valuable
collection of plants, and at this place had been for some weeks
indefatigably engaged in changing and drying them, and at last, fell
a victim to the disease of the country, which seemed to have made an
easy conquest of him, from the very feeble and enervated state he was
evidently in, that of pulmonary consumption. This fine, gentlemanly and
urbane, excellent man, to whom I became very much attached, was lodged
in a room adjoining to mine, where he died, as he had lived, peaceably
and smiling, and that when nobody knew that his life was in immediate
danger. The surgeon who was attending me, (Dr. Wright,) was sitting on
my bedside in his morning-call at my room, when a negro boy, who alone
had been left in the room with him, came into my apartment and said Mr.
Beyrich was dying—we instantly stepped into his room and found him,
not in the _agonies_ of death, but quietly breathing his last, without
a word or a struggle, as he had laid himself upon his bed with his
clothes and his boots on. In this way perished this worthy man, who had
no one here of kindred friends to drop tears for him; and on the day
previous to his misfortune, died also, and much in the same way, his
devoted and faithful servant, a young man, a native of Germany. Their
bodies were buried by the side of each other, and a general feeling of
deep grief was manifested by the officers and citizens of the post,
in the respect that was paid to their remains in the appropriate and
decent committal of them to the grave.
After leaving the head waters of the Canadian, my illness continually
increased, and losing strength every day, I soon got so reduced that
I was necessarily lifted on to and off from, my horse; and at last,
so that I could not ride at all. I was then put into a baggage-waggon
which was going back empty, except with several soldiers sick, and
in this condition rode eight days, most of the time in a delirious
state, lying on the hard planks of the waggon, and made still harder by
the jarring and jolting, until the skin from my elbows and knees was
literally worn through, and I almost “_worn out_;” when we at length
reached this post, and I was taken to a bed, in comfortable quarters,
where I have had the skilful attendance of my friend and old schoolmate
Dr. Wright, under whose hands, thank God, I have been restored, and am
now daily recovering my flesh and usual strength.
The experiment has thus been made, of sending an army of men from the
North, into this Southern and warm climate, in the hottest months of
the year, of July and August; and from this sad experiment I am sure a
secret will be learned that will be of value on future occasions.
Of the 450 fine fellows who started from this place four months since,
about one-third have already died, and I believe many more there
are whose fates are sealed, and will yet fall victims to the deadly
diseases contracted in that fatal country. About this post it seems to
be almost equally unhealthy, and generally so during this season, all
over this region, which is probably owing to an unusual drought which
has been visited on the country, and unknown heretofore to the oldest
inhabitants.
Since we came in from the prairies, and the sickness has a little
abated, we have had a bustling time with the Indians at this place.
Colonel Dodge sent _runners_ to the chiefs of all the contiguous tribes
of Indians, with an invitation to meet the Pawnees, &c. in council, at
this place. Seven or eight tribes flocked to us, in great numbers on
the first day of the month, when the council commenced; it continued
for several days, and gave these semi-civilized sons of the forest a
fair opportunity of shaking the hands of their wild and untamed red
brethren of the West—of embracing them in their arms, with expressions
of friendship, and of smoking the calumet together, as the solemn
pledge of lasting peace and friendship.
Colonel Dodge, Major Armstrong (the Indian agent), and General Stokes
(the Indian commissioner), presided at this council, and I cannot name
a scene more interesting and entertaining than it was; where, for
several days in succession, free vent was given to the feelings of
men _civilized_, _half-civilized_, and _wild_; where the three stages
of man were fearlessly asserting their rights, their happiness, and
friendship for each other. The vain orations of the half-polished (and
half-breed) Cherokees and Choctaws, with all their finery and art,
found their match in the brief and jarring gutturals of the wild and
naked man.
After the council had adjourned, and the fumes of the peace-making
calumet had vanished away, and Colonel Dodge had made them additional
presents, they soon made preparations for their departure, and on
the next day started, with an escort of dragoons, for their own
country. This movement is much to be regretted; for it would have been
exceedingly gratifying to the people of the East to have seen so wild a
group, and it would have been of great service to them to have visited
Washington—a journey, though, which they could not be prevailed upon to
make.
We brought with us to this place, three of the principal chiefs of
the Pawnees, fifteen Kioways, one Camanchee, and one Wi-co chief. The
group was undoubtedly one of the most interesting that ever visited our
frontier; and, I have taken the utmost pains in painting the portraits
of all of them, as well as seven of the Camanchee chiefs, who came part
of the way with us, and turned back. These portraits, together with
other paintings which I have made, descriptive of their manners and
customs—views of their villages—landscapes of the country, &c., will
soon be laid before the amateurs of the East, and, I trust, will be
found to be very interesting.
Although the achievement has been a handsome one, of bringing these
unknown people to an acquaintance, and a general peace; and at first
sight would appear to be of great benefit to them—yet I have my strong
doubts, whether it will better their condition, unless with the
exercised aid of the strong arm of Government, they can be protected in
the rights which by nature, they are entitled to.
There is already in this place a company of eighty men fitted out, who
are to start to-morrow, to overtake these Indians a few miles from
this place, and accompany them home, with a large stock of goods, with
traps for catching beavers, &c., calculating to build a trading-house
amongst them, where they will amass, at once, an immense fortune, being
the first traders and trappers that have ever been in that part of the
country.
I have travelled too much among Indian tribes, and seen too much, not
to know the evil consequences of such a system. Goods are sold at
such exorbitant prices, that the Indian gets a mere shadow for his
peltries, &c. The Indians see no white people but traders and sellers
of whiskey; and of course, judge us all by them—they consequently
hold us, and always will, in contempt; as inferior to themselves, as
they have reason to do—and they neither fear nor respect us. When,
on the contrary, if the Government would promptly prohibit such
establishments, and invite these Indians to our frontier posts, they
would bring in their furs, their robes, horses, mules, &c., to this
place, where there is a good market for them all—where they would
get the full value of their property—where there are several stores
of goods—where there is an honourable competition, and where they
would get four or five times as much for their articles of trade,
as they would get from a trader in the village, out of the reach of
competition, and out of sight of the civilized world.
At the same time, as they would be continually coming where they
would see good and polished society, they would be gradually adopting
our modes of living—introducing to their country our vegetables,
our domestic animals, poultry, &c., and at length, our arts and
manufactures; they would see and estimate our military strength, and
advantages, and would be led to fear and respect us. In short, it would
undoubtedly be the quickest and surest way to a general acquaintance—to
friendship and peace, and at last to civilization. If there is a law in
existence for such protection of the Indian tribes, which may have been
waived in the case of those nations with which we have long traded, it
is a great pity that it should not be rigidly enforced in this new and
important acquaintance, which we have just made with thirty or forty
thousand strangers to the civilized world; yet (as we have learned
from their unaffected hospitality when in their villages), with hearts
of human mould, _susceptible_ of all the noble feelings belonging to
civilized man.
This acquaintance has cost the United States a vast sum of money, as
well as the lives of several valuable and esteemed officers and more
than 100 of the dragoons; and for the honour of the American name, I
think we ought, in forming an acquaintance with these numerous tribes,
to adopt and _enforce_ some different system from that which has been
generally practiced on and beyond our frontiers heretofore.
What the regiment of dragoons has suffered from sickness since they
started on their summer’s campaign is unexampled in this country, and
almost incredible.—When we started from this place, ten or fifteen were
sent back the first day, too sick to proceed; and so afterwards our
numbers were daily diminished, and at the distance of 200 miles from
this place we could muster, out of the whole regiment, but 250 men who
were able to proceed, with which little band, and that again reduced
some sixty or seventy by sickness, we pushed on, and accomplished
all that was done. The beautiful and pictured scenes which we passed
over had an alluring charm on their surface, but (as it would seem)
a lurking poison within, that spread a gloom about our encampment
whenever we pitched it.
We sometimes rode day after day, without a tree to shade us from the
burning rays of a tropical sun, or a breath of wind to regale us or
cheer our hearts—and with mouths continually parched with thirst, we
dipped our drink from stagnant pools that were heated by the sun, and
kept in fermentation by the wallowing herds of buffaloes that resort
to them. In this way we dragged on, sometimes passing picturesque and
broken country, with fine springs and streams, affording us the luxury
of a refreshing shade and a cool draught of water.
Thus was dragged through and completed this most disastrous campaign;
and to Colonel Dodge and Colonel Kearney, who so indefatigably led and
encouraged their men through it, too much praise cannot be awarded.
During my illness while I have been at this post, my friend Joe has
been almost constantly by my bedside; evincing (as he did when we were
creeping over the vast prairies) the most sincere and intense anxiety
for my recovery; whilst he has administered, like a brother, every aid
and every comfort that lay in his power to bring. Such tried friendship
as this, I shall ever recollect; and it will long hence and often, lead
my mind back to retrace, at least, the first part of our campaign,
which was full pleasant; and many of its incidents have formed pleasing
impressions on my memory, which I would preserve to the end of my life.
When we started, we were fresh and ardent for the incidents that
were before us—our little packhorse carried our bedding and culinary
articles; amongst which we had a coffee-pot and a frying-pan—coffee in
good store, and sugar—and wherever we spread our bear-skin, and kindled
our fire in the grass, we were sure to take by ourselves, a delightful
repast, and a refreshing sleep. During the march, as we were subject to
no military subordination, we galloped about wherever we were disposed,
popping away at whatever we chose to spend ammunition upon—and running
our noses into every wild nook and crevice, as we saw fit. In this way
we travelled happily, until our coffee was gone, and our bread; and
even then we were happy upon meat alone, until at last each one in his
turn, like every other moving thing about us, both man and beast, were
vomiting and fainting, under the poisonous influence of some latent
enemy, that was floating in the air, and threatening our destruction.
Then came the “tug of war,” and instead of catering for our amusements,
every one seemed desperately studying the means that were to support
him on his feet, and bring him safe home again to the bosoms of his
friends. In our start, our feelings were buoyant and light, and we had
the luxuries of life—the green prairies, spotted with wild flowers, and
the clear blue sky, were an earthly paradise to us, until fatigue and
disease, and at last despair, made them tiresome and painful to our
jaundiced eyes.
On our way, and while we were in good heart, my friend Joe and I had
picked up many minerals and fossils of an interesting nature, which we
put in our portmanteaux and carried for weeks, with much pains, and
some _pain_ also, until the time when our ardour cooled and our spirits
lagged, and then we discharged and threw them away; and sometimes we
came across specimens again, still more wonderful, which we put in
their place, and lugged along till we were tired of _them_, and their
weight, and we discharged them as before; so that from our eager desire
to procure, we lugged many pounds weight of stones, shells, &c. nearly
the whole way, and were glad that their mother Earth should receive
them again at our hands, which was done long before we got back.
One of the most curious places we met in all our route, was a
mountain ridge of fossil shells, from which a great number of the
above-mentioned specimens were taken. During our second day’s march
from the mouth of the False Washita, we were astonished to find
ourselves travelling over a bed of clam and oyster shells, which were
all in a complete state of petrifaction. This ridge, which seemed to
run from N.E. to S.W. was several hundred feet high, and varying from a
quarter to half a mile in breadth, seemed to be composed of nothing but
a concretion of shells, which, on the surface, exposed to the weather
for the depth of eight or ten inches, were entirely separated from the
cementing material which had held them together, and were lying on the
surface, sometimes for acres together, without a particle of soil or
grass upon them; with the colour, shapes and appearance exactly, of the
natural shells, lying loosely together, into which our horses’ feet
were sinking at every step, above their fetterlocks. These I consider
the most extraordinary petrifactions I ever beheld. In any way they
could be seen, individually or in the mass together, they seemed to
be nothing but the _pure shells themselves_, both in colour and in
shape. In many instances we picked them up entire, never having been
opened; and taking our knives out, and splitting them open as we would
an oyster, the fish was seen petrified in perfect form, and by dipping
it into water, it shewed all the colours and freshness of an oyster
just opened and laid on a plate to be eaten. Joe and I had carefully
tied up many of these, with which we felt quite sure we could deceive
our oyster-eating friends when we got back to the East; yet, like many
other things we collected, they shared the fate that I have mentioned,
without our bringing home one of them, though we brought many of them
several hundreds of miles, and at last threw them away. This remarkable
ridge is in some parts covered with grass, but generally with mere
scattering bunches, for miles together, partially covering this compact
mass of shells, forming (in my opinion) one of the greatest geological
curiosities now to be seen in this country, as it lies evidently some
thousands of feet above the level of the ocean, and seven or eight
hundred miles from the nearest point on the sea-coast.
In another section of the country, lying between Fort Gibson and the
Washita, we passed over a ridge for several miles, running parallel to
this, where much of the way there was no earth or grass under foot, but
our horses were travelling on a solid rock, which had on its surface
a reddish or oxidized appearance; and on getting from my horse and
striking it with my hatchet, I found it to contain sixty or eighty per
cent of solid iron, which produced a ringing noise, and a rebounding of
the hatchet, as if it were struck upon an anvil.
In other parts, and farther West, between the Camanchee village and the
Canadian, we passed over a similar surface for many miles denuded, with
the exception of here and there little bunches of grass and wild sage,
a level and exposed surface of solid gypsum, of a dark grey colour: and
through it, occasionally, as far as the eye could discover, to the East
and the West streaks of three and five inches wide of snowy gypsum,
which was literally as white as the drifted snow.
Of saltpetre and salt, there are also endless supplies; so it will
be seen that the mineral resources of this wilderness country are
inexhaustible and rich, and that the idle savage who never converts
them to his use, must soon yield them to the occupation of enlightened
and cultivating man.
In the vicinity of this post there are an immense number of Indians,
most of whom have been removed to their present locations by the
Government, from their Eastern original positions, within a few
years past; and previous to my starting with the dragoons, I had two
months at my leisure in this section of the country, which I used
in travelling about with my canvass and note-book, and visiting all
of them in their villages. I have made many paintings amongst them,
and have a curious note-book to open at a future day, for which the
reader may be prepared. The tribes whom I thus visited, and of whom my
note-book will yet speak, are the _Cherokees_, _Choctaws_, _Creeks_,
_Seminoles_, _Chickasaws_, _Quapaws_, _Senecas_, _Delawares_, and
several others, whose customs are interesting, and whose history, from
their proximity to, and dealings with the civilized community, is one
of great interest, and some importance, to the enlightened world.
Adieu.
LETTER—No. 46.
ALTON, _ILLINOIS_.
A few days after the date of the above Letter, I took leave of Fort
Gibson, and made a transit across the prairies to this place, a
distance of 550 miles, which I have performed entirely alone, and had
the satisfaction of joining my wife, whom I have found in good health,
in a family of my esteemed friends, with whom she has been residing
during my last year of absence.
While at Fort Gibson, on my return from the Camanchees, I was quartered
for a month or two in a room with my fellow-companion in misery,
Captain Wharton, of the dragoons, who had come in from the prairies in
a condition very similar to mine, and laid in a bed in the opposite
corner of the room; where we laid for several weeks, like two grim
ghosts, rolling our glaring and staring eye-balls upon each other, when
we were totally unable to hold converse, other than that which was
exchanged through the expressive language of our hollow, and bilious,
sunken eyes.
The Captain had been sent with a company of dragoons to escort the
Santa Fee Traders through the country of the Camanchees and Pawnees,
and had returned from a rapid and bold foray into the country, with
many of his men sick, and himself attacked with the epidemic of the
country. The Captain is a gentleman of high and noble bearing, of
one of the most respected families in Philadelphia, with a fine and
chivalrous feeling; but with scarce physical stamina sufficient to bear
him up under the rough vicissitudes of his wild and arduous sort of
life in this country.
As soon as our respective surgeons had clarified our flesh and our
bones with calomel, had brought our pulses to beat calmly, our tongues
to ply gently, and our stomachs to digest moderately; we began to feel
pleasure exquisitely in our convalescence, and draw amusement from
mutual relations of scenes and adventures we had witnessed on our
several marches. The Captain convalescing faster than I did, soon got
so as to eat (but not to digest) enormous meals, which visited back
upon him the renewed horrors of his disease; and I, who had got ahead
of him in strength, but not in prudence, was thrown back in my turn,
by similar indulgence; and so we were mutually and repeatedly, until
he at length got so as to feel strength enough to ride, and resolution
enough to swear that he would take leave of that deadly spot, and seek
restoration and health in a cooler and more congenial latitude. So he
had his horse brought up one morning, whilst he was so weak that he
could scarcely mount upon its back, and with his servant, a small negro
boy, packed on another, he steered off upon the prairies towards Fort
Leavenworth, 500 miles to the North, where his company had long since
marched.
I remained a week or two longer, envying the Captain the good luck to
escape from that dangerous ground; and after I had gained strength
sufficient to warrant it, I made preparations to take informal leave,
and wend _my_ way also over the prairies to the Missouri, a distance of
500 miles, and most of the way a solitary wilderness. For this purpose
I had my horse “Charley” brought up from his pasture, where he had been
in good keeping during my illness, and got so fat as to form almost an
objectionable contrast to his master, with whom he was to embark on
a long and tedious journey again, over the vast and almost boundless
prairies.
I had, like the Captain, grown into such a dread of that place, from
the scenes of death that were and had been visited upon it, that I
resolved to be off as soon as I had strength to get on to my horse, and
balance myself upon his back. For this purpose I packed up my canvass
and brushes, and other luggage, and sent them down the river to the
Mississippi, to be forwarded by steamer, to meet me at St. Louis. So,
one fine morning, Charley was brought up and saddled, and a bear-skin
and a buffalo robe being spread upon his saddle, and a coffee-pot
and tin cup tied to it also—with a few pounds of hard biscuit in my
portmanteau—with my fowling-piece in my hand, and my pistols in my
belt—with my sketch-book slung on my back, and a small pocket compass
in my pocket; I took leave of Fort Gibson, even against the advice of
my surgeon and all the officers of the garrison, who gathered around me
to bid me farewell. No argument could contend with the fixed resolve
in my own mind, that if I could get out upon the prairies, and moving
continually to the Northward, I should daily gain strength, and save
myself, possibly, from the jaws of that voracious burial-ground that
laid in front of my room; where I had for months laid and imagined
myself going with other poor fellows, whose mournful dirges were
played under my window from day to day. No one can imagine what was
the dread I felt for that place; nor the pleasure, which was extatic,
when Charley was trembling under me, and I turned him around on the top
of a prairie bluff at a mile distance, to take the last look upon it,
and thank God, as I did audibly, that I was not to be buried within
its enclosure. I said to myself, that “to die on the prairie, and be
devoured by wolves; or to fall in combat and be scalped by an Indian,
would be far more acceptable than the lingering death that would
consign me to the jaws of that insatiable grave,” for which, in the
fever and weakness of my mind, I had contracted so destructive a terror.
So, alone, without other living being with me than my affectionate
horse Charley, I turned my face to the North, and commenced on my long
journey, with confidence full and strong, that I should gain strength
daily; and no one can ever know the pleasure of that moment, which
placed me alone, upon the boundless sea of waving grass, over which my
proud horse was prancing, and I with my life in my own hands, commenced
to steer my course to the banks of the Missouri.
For the convalescent, rising and escaping from the gloom and horrors
of a sick bed, astride of his strong and trembling horse, carrying him
fast and safely over green fields spotted and tinted with waving wild
flowers; and through the fresh and cool breezes that are rushing about
him, as he daily shortens the distance that lies between him and his
wife and little ones, there is an exquisite pleasure yet to be learned,
by those who never have felt it.
Day by day I thus pranced and galloped along, the whole way through
waving grass and green fields, occasionally dismounting and lying in
the grass an hour or so, until the grim shaking and chattering of
an ague chill had passed off; and through the nights, slept on my
bear-skin spread upon the grass, with my saddle for my pillow, and
my buffalo robe drawn over me for my covering. My horse Charley was
picketed near me at the end of his laso, which gave him room for his
grazing; and thus we snored and nodded away the nights, and never were
denied the doleful serenades of the gangs of sneaking wolves that were
nightly perambulating our little encampment, and stationed at a safe
distance from us at sunrise in the morning—gazing at us, and impatient
to pick up the crumbs and bones that were left, when we moved away from
our feeble fire that had faintly flickered through the night, and in
the absence of timber, had been made of dried buffalo dung, (+plate+
184).
This “_Charley_” was a noble animal of the Camanchee wild breed, of
a clay bank colour; and from our long and tried acquaintance, we had
become very much attached to each other, and acquired a wonderful
facility both of mutual accommodation, and of construing each other’s
views and intentions. In fact, we had been so long tried together, that
there would have seemed to the spectator almost an unity of _interest_;
and at all events, an unity of feelings on the subject of attachment,
as well as on that of mutual dependence and protection.
I purchased this very showy and well-known animal of Colonel Burbank,
of the ninth regiment, and rode it the whole distance to the Camanchee
villages and back again; and at the time when most of the horses of the
regiment were drooping and giving out by the way—_Charley_ flourished
and came in in good flesh and good spirits.
On this journey, while he and I were twenty-five days alone, we had
much time, and the best of circumstances, under which to learn what we
had as yet overlooked in each other’s characters, as well as to draw
great pleasure and real benefit from what we already had learned of
each other in our former travels.
I generally halted on the bank of some little stream, at half an hour’s
sun, where feed was good for Charley, and where I could get wood to
kindle my fire, and water for my coffee. The first thing was to undress
“Charley” and drive down his picket, to which he was fastened, to graze
over a circle that he could inscribe at the end of his laso. In this
wise he busily fed himself until nightfall; and after my coffee was
made and drank, I uniformly moved him up, with his picket by my head,
so that I could lay my hand upon his laso in an instant, in case of any
alarm that was liable to drive him from me. On one of these evenings
when he was grazing as usual, he slipped the laso over his head, and
deliberately took his supper at his pleasure, wherever he chose to
prefer it, as he was strolling around. When night approached, I took
the laso in hand and endeavoured to catch him, but I soon saw that he
was determined to enjoy a little freedom; and he continually evaded
me until dark, when I abandoned the pursuit, making up my mind that I
should inevitably lose him, and be obliged to perform the rest of my
journey on foot. He had led me a chase of half a mile or more, when I
left him busily grazing, and returned to my little solitary bivouac,
and laid myself on my bear skin, and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night I waked, whilst I was lying on my back, and
on half opening my eyes, I was instantly shocked to the soul, by the
huge figure (as I thought) of an Indian, standing over me, and in the
very instant of taking my scalp! The chill of horror that paralyzed me
for the first moment, held me still till I saw there was no need of
my moving—that my faithful horse “Charley” had “played shy” till he
had “filled his belly,” and had then moved up, from feelings of pure
affection, or from instinctive fear, or possibly, from a due share of
both, and taken his position with his forefeet at the edge of my bed,
with his head hanging directly over me, while he was standing fast
asleep!
My nerves, which had been most violently shocked, were soon quieted,
and I fell asleep, and so continued until sunrise in the morning, when
I waked, and beheld my faithful servant at some considerable distance,
busily at work picking up his breakfast amongst the cane-brake, along
the bank of the creek. I went as busily to work, preparing my own,
which was eaten, and after it, I had another half-hour of fruitless
endeavours to catch Charley, whilst he seemed mindful of success on
the evening before, and continually tantalized me by turning around
and around, and keeping out of my reach. I recollected the conclusive
evidence of his attachment and dependence, which he had voluntarily
given in the night, and I thought I would try them in another way. So
I packed up my things and slung the saddle on my back, trailing my gun
in my hand, and started on my route. After I had advanced a quarter
of a mile, I looked back, and saw him standing with his head and tail
very high, looking alternately at me and at the spot where I had been
encamped, and left a little fire burning. In this condition he stood
and surveyed the prairies around for a while, as I continued on.
He, at length, walked with a hurried step to the spot, and seeing
everything gone, began to neigh very violently, and at last started off
at fullest speed, and overtook me, passing within a few paces of me,
and wheeling about at a few rods distance in front of me, trembling
like an aspen leaf.
[Illustration: 184]
I called him by his familiar name, and walked up to him with the bridle
in my hand, which I put over his head, as he held it down for me, and
the saddle on his back, as he actually stooped to receive it. I was
soon arranged, and on his back, when he started off upon his course as
if he was well contented and pleased, like his rider, with the manœuvre
which had brought us together again, and afforded us mutual relief
from our awkward positions. Though this alarming freak of “Charley’s”
passed off and terminated so satisfactorily; yet I thought such rather
dangerous ones to play, and I took good care after that night, to keep
him under my strict authority; resolving to avoid further tricks and
experiments till we got to the land of cultivated fields and steady
habits.
On the night of this memorable day, Charley and I stopped in one of the
most lovely little valleys I ever saw, and even far more beautiful than
could have been _imagined_ by mortal man. An enchanting little lawn of
five or six acres, on the banks of a cool and rippling stream, that was
alive with fish; and every now and then, a fine brood of young ducks,
just old enough for delicious food, and too unsophisticated to avoid an
easy and simple death. This little lawn was surrounded by bunches and
copses of the most luxuriant and picturesque foliage, consisting of the
lofty bois d’arcs and elms, spreading out their huge branches, as if
offering protection to the rounded groups of cherry and plum-trees that
supported festoons of grapevines, with their purple clusters that hung
in the most tempting manner over the green carpet that was everywhere
decked out with wild flowers, of all tints and of various sizes, from
the modest wild sun-flowers, with their thousand tall and drooping
heads, to the lillies that stood, and the violets that crept beneath
them. By the side of this cool stream, Charley was fastened, and near
him my bear-skin was spread in the grass, and by it my little fire, to
which I soon brought a fine string of perch from the brook; from which,
and a broiled duck, and a delicious cup of coffee, I made my dinner
and supper, which were usually united in one meal, at half an hour’s
sun. After this I strolled about this sweet little paradise, which I
found was chosen, not only by myself, but by the wild deer, which were
repeatedly rising from their quiet lairs, and bounding out, and over
the graceful swells of the prairies which hemmed in, and framed this
little picture of sweetest tints and most masterly touches.
The Indians also, I found, had loved it once, and left it; for here
and there were their solitary and deserted graves, which told, though
briefly, of former chaunts and sports; and perhaps, of wars and deaths,
that have once rung and echoed through this little silent vale.
On my return to my encampment, I laid down upon my back, and looked
awhile into the blue heavens that were over me, with their pure
and milk white clouds that were passing—with the sun just setting
in the West, and the silver moon rising in the East, and renewed
the impressions of my own insignificance, as I contemplated the
incomprehensible mechanism of that _wonderful clock_, whose time is
infallible, and whose motion is eternity! I trembled, at last, at the
dangerous expanse of my thoughts, and turned them again, and my eyes,
upon the little and more comprehensible things that were about me. One
of the first was a _newspaper_, which I had brought from the Garrison,
the National Intelligencer, of Washington, which I had read for years,
but never with quite the zest and relish that I now conversed over its
familiar columns, in this clean and sweet valley of dead silence!
And while reading, I thought of (and laughed), what I had almost
forgotten, the sensation I produced amongst the Minatarees while on the
Upper Missouri, a few years since, by taking from amongst my painting
apparatus an old number of the _New York Commercial Advertiser_, edited
by my kind and tried friend Colonel Stone. The Minatarees thought that
I was mad, when they saw me for hours together, with my eyes fixed upon
its pages. They had different and various conjectures about it; the
most current of which was, that I was looking at it to cure my sore
eyes, and they called it the “_medicine cloth for sore eyes_!” I at
length put an end to this and several equally ignorant conjectures,
by reading passages in it, which were interpreted to them, and the
objects of the paper fully explained; after which, it was looked upon
as much greater mystery than before; and several liberal offers were
made me for it, which I was obliged to refuse, having already received
a beautifully garnished robe for it, from the hands of a young son of
Esculapius, who told me that if he could employ a good interpreter to
explain everything in it, he could travel about amongst the Minatarees
and Mandans, and Sioux, and exhibit it after I was gone; getting rich
with presents, and adding greatly to the list of his _medicines_, as
it would make him a great _Medicine-Man_. I left with the poor fellow
his painted robe, and the newspaper; and just before I departed, I saw
him unfolding it to show to some of his friends, when he took from
around it, some eight or ten folds of birch bark and deer skins; all of
which were carefully enclosed in a sack made of the skin of a pole cat,
and undoubtedly destined to become, and to be called, his mystery or
_medicine-bag_.
The distance from Fort Gibson to the Missouri, where I struck the
river, is about five hundred miles, and most of the way a beautiful
prairie, in a wild and uncultivated state without roads and without
bridges, over a great part of which I steered my course with my
pocket-compass, fording and swimming the streams in the best manner I
could; shooting prairie hens, and occasionally catching fish, which I
cooked for my meals, and slept upon the ground at night. On my way I
visited “Riqua’s Village” of Osages, and lodged during the night in the
hospitable cabin of my old friend Beatte, of whom I have often spoken
heretofore, as one of the guides and hunters for the dragoons on their
campaign in the Camanchee country. This was the most extraordinary
hunter, I think, that I ever have met in all my travels. _To “hunt,”_
was a phrase almost foreign to him, however, for when he went out with
his rifle, it was “_for meat_,” or “_for cattle_;” and he never came
in without it. He never told how many animals he had seen—how many he
had wounded, &c.—but his horse was always loaded with meat, which was
thrown down in camp without comment or words spoken. Riqua was an early
pioneer of Christianity in this country, who has devoted many years
of his life, with his interesting family, in endeavouring to civilize
and christianize these people, by the force of pious and industrious
examples, which he has successfully set them; and, I think, in the most
judicious way, by establishing a little village, at some miles distance
from the villages of the Osages; where he has invited a considerable
number of families who have taken their residence by the side of him;
where they are following his virtuous examples in their dealings and
modes of life, and in agricultural pursuits which he is teaching them,
and showing them that they may raise the comforts and luxuries of life
out of the ground, instead of seeking for them in the precarious manner
in which they naturally look for them, in the uncertainty of the chase.
It was a source of much regret to me, that I did not see this pious
man, as he was on a Tour to the East, when I was in his little village.
Beatte lived in this village with his aged parents, to whom he
introduced me; and with whom, altogether, I spent a very pleasant
evening in conversation. They are both French, and have spent the
greater part of their lives with the Osages, and seem to be familiar
with their whole history. This Beatte was the hunter and guide for a
party of rangers (the summer before our campaign), with whom Washington
Irving made his excursion to the borders of the Pawnee country; and
of whose extraordinary character and powers, Mr. Irving has drawn a
very just and glowing account, excepting one error which I think he
has inadvertently fallen into, that of calling him a “_half breed_.”
Beatte had complained of this to me often while out on the prairies;
and when I entered his hospitable cabin, he said he was glad to see me,
and almost instantly continued, “Now you shall see, Monsieur Catline, I
am not ‘_half breed_,’ here I shall introduce you to my father and my
mother, who you see are two very nice and good old French people.”
From this cabin where I fared well and slept soundly, I started in the
morning, after taking with them a good cup of coffee, and went smoothly
on over the prairies on my course.
About the middle of my journey, I struck a road leading into a small
civilized settlement, called the “_Kickapoo prairie_,” to which I “bent
my course;” and riding up to a log cabin which was kept as a sort of
an hotel or tavern, I met at the door, the black boy belonging to my
friend Captain Wharton, who I have said took his leave of Fort Gibson
a few weeks before me; I asked the boy where his master was, to which
he replied, “My good massa, Massa Wharton, in dese house, jist dead ob
de libber compliment!” I dismounted and went in, and to my deepest
sorrow and anguish, I found him, as the boy said, nearly dead, without
power to raise his head or his voice—his eyes were rolled upon me, and
as he recognized me he took me by the hand, which he firmly gripped,
whilst both shed tears in profusion. By placing my ear to his lips, his
whispers could be heard, and he was able in an imperfect manner to make
his views and his wishes known. His disease seemed to be a repeated
attack of his former malady, and a severe affection of the liver, which
was to be (as his physician said) the proximate cause of his death. I
conversed with his physician who seemed to be a young and inexperienced
man, who told me that he certainly could not live more than ten days. I
staid two days with him, and having no means with me of rendering him
pecuniary or other aid amongst strangers, I left him in kind hands, and
started on my course again. My health improved daily, from the time of
my setting out at Fort Gibson; and I was now moving along cheerfully,
and in hopes soon to reach the end of my toilsome journey. I had yet
vast prairies to pass over, and occasional latent difficulties, which
were not apparent on their smooth and deceiving surfaces. Deep sunken
streams, like ditches, occasionally presented themselves suddenly to my
view, when I was within a few steps of plunging into them from their
perpendicular sides, which were overhung with long wild grass, and
almost obscured from the sight. The bearings of my compass told me that
I must cross them, and the only alternative was to plunge into them,
and get out as well as I could. They were often muddy, and I could
not tell whether they were three or ten feet deep, until my horse was
in them; and sometimes he went down head foremost, and I with him, to
scramble out on the opposite shore in the best condition we could. In
one of these canals, which I had followed for several miles in the
vain hope of finding a shoal, or an accustomed ford, I plunged, with
Charley, where it was about six or eight yards wide (and God knows how
deep, for we did not go to the bottom), and swam him to the opposite
bank, on to which I clung; and which, being perpendicular and of clay,
and three or four feet higher than the water, was an insurmountable
difficulty to Charley; and I led the poor fellow at least a mile, as
I walked on the top of the bank, with the bridle in my hand, holding
his head above the water as he was swimming; and I at times almost
inextricably entangled in the long grass that was often higher than my
head, and hanging over the brink, filled and woven together, with ivy
and wild pea-vines. I at length (and just before I was ready to drop
the rein of faithful Charley, in hopeless despair), came to an old
buffalo ford, where the banks were graded down, and the poor exhausted
animal, at last got out, and was ready and willing to take me and my
luggage (after I had dried them in the sun) on the journey again.
The Osage river which is a powerful stream, I struck at a place which
seemed to stagger my courage very much. There had been heavy rains but
a few days before, and this furious stream was rolling along its wild
and turbid waters, with a freshet upon it, that spread its waters,
in many places over its banks, as was the case at the place where I
encountered it. There seemed to be but little choice in places with
this stream, which, with its banks full, was sixty or eighty yards
in width, with a current that was sweeping along at a rapid rate. I
stripped everything from Charley, and tied him with his laso, until
I travelled the shores up and down for some distance, and collected
drift wood enough for a small raft, which I constructed, to carry my
clothes and saddle, and other things, safe over. This being completed,
and my clothes taken off, and they with other things, laid upon
the raft, I took Charley to the bank and drove him in and across,
where he soon reached the opposite shore, and went to feeding on the
bank. Next was to come the “_great white medicine_;” and with him,
saddle, bridle, saddle-bags, sketch-book, gun and pistols, coffee and
coffee-pot, powder, and his clothes, all of which were placed upon the
raft, and the raft pushed into the stream, and the “_medicine man_”
swimming behind it, and pushing it along before him, until it reached
the opposite shore, at least half a mile below! From this, his things
were carried to the top of the bank, and in a little time, Charley was
caught and dressed, and straddled, and on the way again.
These are a few of the incidents of that journey of 500 miles, which I
performed entirely alone, and which at last brought me out at Boonville
on the Western bank of the Missouri. While I was crossing the river
at that place, I met General Arbuckle, with two surgeons, who were to
start the next day from Boonville for Fort Gibson, travelling over
the route that I had just passed. I instantly informed them of the
condition of poor Wharton, and the two surgeons were started off that
afternoon at fullest speed, with orders to reach him in the shortest
time possible, and do everything to save his life. I assisted in
purchasing for him, several little things that he had named to me, such
as jellies—acids—apples, &c. &c.; and saw them start; and (God knows),
I shall impatiently hope to hear of their timely assistance, and of his
recovery.[12]
From Boonville, which is a very pretty little town, building up with
the finest style of brick houses, I crossed the river to New Franklin,
where I laid by several days, on account of stormy weather; and from
thence proceeded with success to the end of my journey, where I now am,
under the roof of kind and hospitable friends, with my dear wife, who
has patiently waited one year to receive me back, a wreck, as I now am;
and who is to start in a few days with me to the coast of Florida, 1400
miles South of this, to spend the winter in patching up my health, and
fitting me for future campaigns.
On this Tour (from which I shall return in the spring, if my health
will admit of it), I shall visit the Seminoles in Florida,—the
Euchees—the Creeks in Alabama and Georgia, and the Choctaws and
Cherokees, who are yet remaining on their lands, on the East side of
the Mississippi.
We take steamer for New Orleans to morrow, so, till after another
campaign, Adieu.
[12] I have great satisfaction in informing the reader, that I
learned a year or so after the above date, that those two skilful
surgeons hastened on with all possible speed to the assistance of
this excellent gentleman, and had the satisfaction of conducting
him to his post after he had entirely and permanently recovered his
health.
LETTER—No. 47.
SAINT LOUIS.
Since the date of my last Letter, a whole long winter has passed off,
which I have whiled away on the Gulf of Mexico and about the shores of
Florida and Texas. My health was soon restored by the congenial climate
I there found, and my dear wife was my companion the whole way. We
visited the different posts, and all that we could find to interest us
in these delightful realms, and took steamer from New Orleans to this
place, where we arrived but a few days since.
Supposing that the reader by this time may be somewhat tired of
following me in my erratic wanderings over these wild regions, I have
resolved to sit down awhile before I go further, and open to him my
_sketch-book_, in which I have made a great many entries, as I have
been dodging about, and which I have not as yet shewed to him, for want
of requisite time and proper opportunity.
In opening this book, the reader will allow me to turn over leaf after
leaf, and describe to him, tribe after tribe, and chief after chief,
of many of those whom I have visited, without the tediousness of
travelling too minutely over the intervening distances; in which I fear
I might lose him as a fellow-traveller, and leave him fagged out by the
way-side, before he would see all that I am anxious to show him.
About a year since I made a visit to the
KICKAPOOS.
At present but a small tribe, numbering six or 800, the remnant of a
once numerous and warlike tribe. They are residing within the state of
Illinois, near the south end of Lake Michigan, and living in a poor and
miserable condition, although they have one of the finest countries in
the world. They have been reduced in numbers by whiskey and small-pox,
and the game being destroyed in their country, and having little
industry to work, they are exceedingly poor and dependent. In fact,
there is very little inducement for them to build houses and cultivate
their farms, for they own so large and so fine a tract of country,
which is now completely surrounded by civilized settlements, that they
know, from experience, they will soon be obliged to sell out their
country for a trifle, and move to the West. This system of moving has
already commenced with them, and a considerable party have located on a
tract of lands offered to them on the West bank of the Missouri river,
a little north of Fort Leavenworth.[13]
The Kickapoos have long lived in alliance with the Sacs and Foxes, and
speak a language so similar that they seem almost to be of one family.
The present chief of this tribe, whose name is _Kee-an-ne-kuk_ (the
foremost man, +plate+ 185), usually called the _Shawnee Prophet_, is
a very shrewd and talented man. When he sat for his portrait, he took
his attitude as seen in the picture, which was that of prayer. And I
soon learned that he was a very devoted Christian, regularly holding
meetings in his tribe, on the sabbath, preaching to them and exhorting
them to a belief in the Christian religion, and to an abandonment of
the fatal habit of whiskey-drinking, which he strenuously represented
as the bane that was to destroy them all, if they did not entirely
cease to use it. I went on the sabbath, to hear this eloquent man
preach, when he had his people assembled in the woods; and although I
could not understand his language, I was surprised and pleased with the
natural ease and emphasis, and gesticulation, which carried their own
evidence of the eloquence of his sermon.
I was singularly struck with the noble efforts of this champion of
the mere remnant of a poisoned race, so strenuously labouring to
rescue the remainder of his people from the deadly bane that has been
brought amongst them by enlightened Christians. How far the efforts
of this zealous man have succeeded in christianizing, I cannot tell,
but it is quite certain that his exemplary and constant endeavours
have completely abolished the practice of drinking whiskey in his
tribe; which alone is a very praiseworthy achievement, and the first
and indispensable step towards all other improvements. I was some time
amongst these people, and was exceedingly pleased, and surprised also,
to witness their sobriety, and their peaceable conduct; not having
seen an instance of drunkenness, or seen or heard of any use made of
spirituous liquors whilst I was amongst the tribe.
_Ah-ton-we-tuck_ (the cock turkey, +plate+ 186), is another Kickapoo
of some distinction, and a disciple of the Prophet; in the attitude of
prayer also, which he is reading off from characters cut upon a stick
that he holds in his hands. It was told to me in the tribe by the
Traders (though I am afraid to vouch for the whole truth of it), that
while a Methodist preacher was soliciting him for permission to preach
in his village, the Prophet refused him the privilege, but secretly
took him aside and supported him until he learned from him his creed,
and his system of teaching it to others; when he discharged him, and
commenced preaching amongst his people himself; pretending to have
had an interview with some superhuman mission, or inspired personage;
ingeniously resolving, that if there was any honour or emolument, or
influence to be gained by the promulgation of it, he might as well
have it as another person; and with this view he commenced preaching
and instituted a prayer, which he ingeniously carved on a maple-stick
of an inch and a half in breadth, in characters somewhat resembling
Chinese letters. These sticks, with the prayers on them, he has
introduced into every family of the tribe, and into the hands of every
individual; and as he has necessarily the manufacturing of them all, he
sells them at his own price; and has thus added lucre to fame, and in
two essential and effective ways, augmented his influence in his tribe.
Every man, woman and child in the tribe, so far as I saw them, were in
the habit of saying their prayer from this stick when going to bed at
night, and also when rising in the morning; which was invariably done
by placing the fore-finger of the right hand under the upper character,
until they repeat a sentence or two, which it suggests to them; and
then slipping it under the next, and the next, and so on, to the bottom
of the stick, which altogether required about ten minutes, as it was
sung over in a sort of a chaunt, to the end.
[Illustration: 185 186]
[Illustration: 187 188]
Many people have called all this an ingenious piece of hypocrisy on
the part of the Prophet, and whether it be so or not, I cannot decide;
yet one thing I can vouch to be true, that whether his motives and
his life be as pure as he pretends or not, his example has done much
towards correcting the habits of his people, and has effectually turned
their attention from the destructive habits of dissipation and vice, to
temperance and industry, in the pursuits of agriculture and the arts.
The world may still be unwilling to allow him much credit for this, but
I am ready to award him a great deal, who can by his influence thus far
arrest the miseries of dissipation and the horrid deformities of vice,
in the descending prospects of a nation who have so long had, and still
have, the white-skin teachers of vices and dissipation amongst them.
Besides these two chiefs, I have also painted _Ma-shee-na_ (the elk’s
horn) _Ke-chim-qua_ (the big bear), warriors, and _Ah-tee-wot-o-mee_,
and _She-nah-wee_, women of the same tribe, whose portraits are in the
Gallery.
WEE-AHS.
These are also the remnant of a once powerful tribe, and reduced by
the same causes, to the number of 200. This tribe formerly lived in
the State of Indiana, and have been moved with the Piankeshaws, to a
position forty or fifty miles south of Fort Leavenworth.
_Go-to-kow-pah-a_ (he who stands by himself, +plate+ 187), and
_Wa-pon-je-a_ (the swan), are two of the most distinguished warriors of
the tribe, both with intelligent European heads.
POT-O-WAT-O-MIES.
The remains of a tribe who were once very numerous and warlike, but
reduced by whiskey and small-pox, to their present number, which is not
more than 2700. This tribe may be said to be semi-civilized, inasmuch
as they have so long lived in contiguity with white people, with whom
their blood is considerably mixed, and whose modes and whose manners
they have in many respects copied. From a similarity of language as
well as of customs and personal appearance, there is no doubt that
they have formerly been a part of the great tribe of Chippeways or
Ot-ta-was. Living neighbours and adjoining to them, on the North. This
tribe live within the state of Michigan, and there own a rich and very
valuable tract of land; which, like the Kickapoos, they are selling
out to the Government, and about to remove to the west bank of the
Missouri, where a part of the tribe have already gone and settled, in
the vicinity of Fort Leavenworth. Of this tribe I have painted the
portraits of _On-saw-kie_ (the Sac, +plate+ 189), in the attitude of
prayer, and _Na-pow-sa_ (the Bear travelling in the night,) +plate+
190, one of the principal chiefs of the tribe. These people have for
some time lived neighbours to, and somewhat under the influence of the
Kickapoos; and very many of the tribe have become zealous disciples
of the Kickapoo prophet, using his prayers most devoutly, and in the
manner that I have already described, as is seen in the first of the
two last-named portraits.
KAS-KAS-KI-AS.
This is the name of a tribe that formerly occupied, and of course
owned, a vast tract of country lying on the East of the Mississippi,
and between its banks and the Ohio, and now forming a considerable
portion of the great and populous state of Illinois. History furnishes
us a full and extraordinary account of the once warlike character and
numbers of this tribe; and also of the disastrous career that they have
led, from their first acquaintance with civilized neighbours; whose
rapacious avarice in grasping for their fine lands—with the banes of
whiskey and small-pox, added to the unexampled cruelty of neighbouring
hostile tribes, who have struck at them in the days of their adversity,
and helped to erase them from existence.
Perhaps there has been no other tribe on the Continent of equal power
with the Kas-kas-ki-as, that have so suddenly sank down to complete
annihilation and disappeared. The remnant of this tribe have long
since merged into the tribe of Peorias of Illinois; and it is doubtful
whether one dozen of them are now existing. With the very few remnants
of this tribe will die in a few years a beautiful language, entirely
distinct from all others about it, unless some enthusiastic person may
preserve it from the lips of those few who are yet able to speak it. Of
this tribe I painted _Kee-mon-saw_ (the little chief), half-civilized,
and, I should think, half-breed (+plate+ 191); and _Wah-pe-seh-see_
(+plate+ 192), a very aged woman, mother of the same.
This young man is chief of the tribe; and I was told by one of the
Traders, that his mother and his son, were his only subjects! Whether
this be true or not, I cannot positively say, though I can assert with
safety that there are but a very few of them left, and that those,
like all of the last of tribes, will soon die of dissipation or broken
hearts.
[Illustration: 189 190]
[Illustration: 191 192]
[Illustration: 193 194]
[Illustration: 195 196]
PE-O-RI-AS.
The name of another tribe inhabiting a part of the state of Illinois;
and, like the above tribes, but a remnant and civilized (or
_cicatrized_, to speak more correctly). This tribe number about 200,
and are, like most of the other remnants of tribes on the frontiers,
under contract to move to the West of the Missouri. Of this tribe I
painted the portrait of _Pah-me-cow-e-tah_ (the man who tracks, +plate+
193); and _Kee-mo-ra-ni-a_ (no English, +plate+ 194). These are said to
be the most influential men in the tribe, and both were very curiously
and _well_ dressed, in articles of civilized manufacture.
PI-AN-KE-SHAWS.
The remnant of another tribe, of the states of Illinois and Indiana,
who have also recently sold out their country to Government, and are
under contract to move to the West of the Missouri, in the vicinity of
Fort Leavenworth. _Ni-a-co-mo_ (to fix with the foot, +plate+ 195), a
brave of distinction; and _Men-son-se-ah_ (the left hand, +plate+ 196),
a fierce-looking and very distinguished warrior, with a stone-hatchet
in his hand, are fair specimens of this reduced and enfeebled tribe,
which do not number more than 170 persons at this time.
DELAWARES.
The very sound of this name has carried terror wherever it has been
heard in the Indian wilderness; and it has travelled and been known, as
well as the people, over a very great part of the Continent. This tribe
originally occupied a great part of the Eastern border of Pennsylvania,
and great part of the states of New Jersey and Delaware. No other
tribe on the Continent has been so much moved and jostled about by
civilized invasions; and none have retreated so far, or fought their
way so desperately, as they have honourably and bravely contended for
every foot of the ground they have passed over. From the banks of the
Delaware to the lovely Susquehana, and _my native valley_, and to the
base of and over, the Alleghany mountains, to the Ohio river—to the
Illinois and the Mississippi, and at last to the West of the Missouri,
they have been moved by Treaties after Treaties with the Government,
who have now assigned to the mere handful of them that are left, a
tract of land, as has been done a dozen times before, in _fee simple,
for ever_! In every move the poor fellows have made, they have been
thrust against their wills from the graves of their fathers and their
children; and planted as they now are, on the borders of new enemies,
where their first occupation has been to take up their weapons in
self-defence, and fight for the ground they have been planted on.
There is no tribe, perhaps, amongst which greater and more continued
exertions have been made for their conversion to Christianity; and that
ever since the zealous efforts of the Moravian missionaries, who first
began with them; nor any, amongst whom those pious and zealous efforts
have been squandered more in vain; which has, probably, been owing to
the bad faith with which they have so often and so continually been
treated by white people, which has excited prejudices that have stood
in the way of their mental improvement.
This scattered and reduced tribe, which once contained some 10 or
15,000, numbers at this time but 800; and the greater part of them have
been for the fifty or sixty years past, residing in Ohio and Indiana.
In these states, their reservations became surrounded by white people,
whom they dislike for neighbours, and their lands too valuable for
Indians—and the certain consequence has been, that they have sold out
and taken lands West of the Mississippi; on to which they have moved,
and on which it is, and always will be, almost impossible to find them,
owing to their desperate disposition for roaming about, indulging in
the chase, and in wars with their enemies.
The wild frontier on which they are now placed, affords them so fine
an opportunity to indulge both of these propensities, that they will
be continually wandering in little and desperate parties over the vast
buffalo plains, and exposed to their enemies, till at last the new
country, which is given to them, in “fee simple, for ever,” and which
is destitute of game, will be deserted, and they, like the most of the
removed remnants of tribes, will be destroyed; and the faith of the
Government well preserved, which has offered _this_ as their _last
move_, and these lands as _theirs in fee simple, for ever_.
In my travels on the Upper Missouri, and in the Rocky Mountains,
I learned to my utter astonishment, that little parties of these
adventurous myrmidons, of only six or eight in numbers, had visited
those remote tribes, at 2000 miles distance; and in several
instances, after having cajoled a whole tribe—having been feasted in
their villages—having solemnized the articles of everlasting peace
with them, and received many presents at their hands, and taken
affectionate leave, have brought away six or eight scalps with them;
and nevertheless, braved their way, and defended themselves as they
retreated in safety out of their enemies’ country, and through the
regions of other hostile tribes, where they managed to receive the same
honours, and come off with similar trophies.
Amongst this tribe there are some renowned chiefs, whose lives, if
correctly written, would be matter of the most extraordinary kind for
the reading world; and of which, it may be in my power at some future
time, to give a more detailed account. In +plate+ 197 will be seen
the portrait of one of the leading chiefs of the tribe, whose name
is _Ni-co-man_ (the answer), with his bow and arrows in his hand.
_Non-on-da-gon_ (+plate+ 198), with a silver ring in his nose, is
another of the chiefs of distinction, whose history I admired very
much, and whom, from his very gentlemanly attentions to me, I became
much attached to. In both of these instances, their dresses were
principally of stuffs of civilized manufacture; and their heads were
bound with vari-coloured handkerchiefs or shawls, which were tastefully
put on like a Turkish turban.
[Illustration: 197 198]
[Illustration: 199 200]
+MO-HEE-CON-NEUHS, or MOHEGANS (the good canoemen).+
There are 400 of this once powerful and still famous tribe, residing
near Green Bay, on a rich tract of land given to them by the
Government, in the territory of Wisconsin, near Winnebago lake—on
which they are living very comfortably; having brought with them from
their former country, in the state of Massachusetts, a knowledge of
agriculture, which they had there effectually learned and practiced.
This tribe are the remains, and all that are left, of the once powerful
and celebrated tribe of Pequots of Massachusetts. History tells us,
that in their wars and dissensions with the whites, a considerable
portion of the tribe moved off under the command of a rival chief,
and established a separate tribe or band, and took the name of
Mo-hee-con-neuhs, which they have preserved until the present day; the
rest of the tribe having long since been extinct.
The chief of this tribe, _Ee-tow-o-kaum_ (both sides of the river,
+plate+ 199), which I have painted at full length, with a psalm-book
in one hand, and a cane in the other, is a very shrewd and intelligent
man, and a professed, and I think, sincere Christian. _Waun-naw-con_
(the dish), John W. Quinney (+plate+ 200), in civilized dress, is a
civilized Indian, well-educated—speaking good English—is a Baptist
missionary preacher, and a very plausible and eloquent speaker.
O-NEI-DA’S.
The remnant of a numerous tribe that have been destroyed by wars with
the whites—by whiskey and small-pox, numbering at present but five or
six hundred, and living in the most miserable poverty, on their reserve
in the state of New York, near Utica and the banks of the Mohawk river.
This tribe was one of the confederacy, called the Six Nations, and much
distinguished in the early history of New York. The present chief is
known by the name of _Bread_ (+plate+ 201). He is a shrewd and talented
man, well educated,—speaking good English—is handsome, and a polite and
gentlemanly man in his deportment.
TUS-KA-RO-RA’S.
Another of the tribes in the confederacy of the Six Nations, once
numerous, but reduced at present to the number of 500. This little
tribe are living on their reserve, a fine tract of land, near Buffalo,
in the state of New York, and surrounded by civilized settlements.
Many of them are good farmers, raising abundant and fine crops.
The chief of the tribe is a very dignified man, by the name of
_Cu-sick_, and his son, of the same name, whom I have painted (+plate+
202), is a very talented man—has been educated for the pulpit in some
one of our public institutions, and is now a Baptist preacher, and I am
told a very eloquent speaker.
SEN-E-CA’S.
One thousand two hundred in numbers at present, living on their
reserve, near Buffalo, and within a few miles of Niagara Falls, in the
state of New York. This tribe formerly lived on the banks of the Seneca
and Cayuga lakes; but, like all the other tribes who have stood in the
way of the “march of civilization,” have repeatedly bargained away
their country, and removed to the West; which easily accounts for the
origin of the familiar phrase that is used amongst them, that “they are
going to the setting sun.”
This tribe, when first known to the civilized world, contained some
eight or ten thousand; and from their position in the centre of the
state of New York, held an important place in its history. The Senecas
were one of the most numerous and effective tribes, constituting the
compact called the “Six Nations;” which was a confederacy formed by
six tribes, who joined in a league as an effective mode of gaining
strength, and preserving themselves by combined efforts which would be
sufficiently strong to withstand the assaults of neighbouring tribes,
or to resist the incursions of white people in their country. This
confederacy consisted of the Senecas, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas,
Mohawks, and Tuskaroras; and until the innovations of white people,
with their destructive engines of war—with whiskey and small-pox, they
held their sway in the country, carrying victory, and consequently
terror and dismay, wherever they warred. Their war-parties were
fearlessly sent into Connecticut and Massachusetts, to Virginia, and
even to the Carolinas, and victory everywhere crowned their efforts.
Their combined strength, however, in all its might, poor fellows, was
not enough to withstand the siege of their insidious foes—a destroying
flood that has risen and advanced, like a flood-tide upon them, and
covered their country; has broken up their strong holds, has driven
them from land to land; and in their retreat, has drowned the most of
them in its waves.
The Senecas are the most numerous remnant of this compact; and have
at their head an aged and very distinguished chief, familiarly known
throughout the United States, by the name of _Red Jacket_ (+plate+
205). I painted this portrait from the life, in the costume in which he
is represented; and indulged him also, in the wish he expressed, “that
he might be seen standing on the Table Rock, at the Falls of Niagara;
about which place he thought his spirit would linger after he was dead.”
_Good Hunter_ (+plate+ 203), and _Hard Hickory_ (+plate+ 204), are
fair specimens of the warriors of this tribe or rather hunters;
or perhaps, still more correctly speaking, _farmers_; for the Senecas
have had no battles to fight lately, and very little game to kill,
except squirrels and pheasants; and their hands are turned to the
plough, having become, most of them, tolerable farmers; raising the
necessaries, and many of the luxuries of life, from the soil.
[Illustration: 201 202]
[Illustration: 203 204]
[Illustration: 205]
Of this interesting tribe, the visitors to my Gallery will find several
other portraits and paintings of their customs; and in books that have
been written, and are being compiled, a much more able and faithful
account than I can give in an epistle of this kind.
The fame as well as the face of Red Jacket, is generally familiar
to the citizens of the United States and the Canadas; and for the
information of those who have not known him, I will briefly say, that
he has been for many years the head chief of the scattered remnants of
that once powerful compact, the Six Nations; a part of whom reside on
their reservations in the vicinity of the Senecas, amounting perhaps in
all, to about four thousand, and owning some two hundred thousand acres
of fine lands. Of this Confederacy, the Mohawks and Cayugas, chiefly
emigrated to Canada, some fifty years ago, leaving the Senecas, the
Tuskaroras, Oneidas, and Onondagas in the state of New York, on fine
tracts of lands, completely surrounded with white population; who by
industry and enterprize, are making the Indian lands too valuable to be
long in their possession, who will no doubt be induced to sell out to
the Government, or, in other words, to exchange them for lands West of
the Mississippi, where it is the avowed intention of the Government to
remove all the border tribes.[14]
Red Jacket has been reputed one of the greatest orators of his day;
and, no doubt, more distinguished for his eloquence and his influence
in council, than as a warrior, in which character I think history
has not said much of him. This may be owing, in a great measure, to
the fact that the wars of his nation were chiefly fought before his
fighting days; and that the greater part of his life and his talents
have been spent with his tribe, during its downfall; where, instead of
the horrors of Indian wars, they have had a more fatal and destructive
enemy to encounter, in the insidious encroachments of pale faces,
which he has been for many years exerting his eloquence and all his
talents to resist. Poor old chief—not all the eloquence of Cicero
and Demosthenes would be able to avert the calamity, that awaits his
declining nation—to resist the despoiling hand of mercenary white man,
that opens and spreads liberally, but to entrap the unwary and ignorant
within its withering grasp.
This talented old man has for many years past, strenuously remonstrated
both to the Governor of New York, and the President of the United
States, against the continual encroachments of white people; whom he
represented as using every endeavour to wrest from them their lands—to
destroy their game, introducing vices of a horrible character, and
unknown to his people by nature! and most vehemently of all, has he
continually remonstrated against the preaching of missionaries in his
tribe; alleging, that the “black coats” (as he calls the clergymen),
did more mischief than good in his tribe, by creating doubts and
dissensions amongst his people! which are destructive of his peace, and
dangerous to the success, and even _existence_ of his tribe. Like many
other great men who endeavour to soothe broken and painful feelings, by
the kindness of the bottle, he has long since taken up whiskey-drinking
to excess; and much of his time, lies drunk in his cabin, or under
the corner of a fence, or wherever else its _kindness_ urges the
necessity of his dropping his helpless body and limbs, to indulge
in the delightful _spell_. He is as great a drunkard as some of our
most distinguished law-givers and law-makers; and yet _ten times more
culpable_, as he has little to do in life, and wields the destinies of
a nation in his hands![15]
There are no better people to be found, than the Seneca Indians—none
that I know of that are by Nature more talented and ingenious; nor any
that would be found to be better neighbours, if the arts and abuses of
white men and whiskey, could be kept away from them. They have mostly
laid down their hunting habits, and become efficient farmers, raising
fine crops of corn, and a great abundance of hogs, cattle and horses,
and other necessaries and luxuries of life.
I-RO-QUOIS.
One of the most numerous and powerful tribes that ever existed in the
Northern regions of our country, and now one of the most completely
annihilated. This tribe occupied a vast tract of country on the River
St. Lawrence, between its banks and Lake Champlain; and at times, by
conquest, actually over-run the whole country, from that to the shores
of Lakes Erie, Huron, and Michigan. But by their continual wars with
the French, English, and Indians, and dissipation and disease, they
have been almost entirely annihilated. The few remnants of them have
long since merged into other tribes, and been mostly lost sight of.[16]
Of this tribe I have painted but one, _Not-o-way_ (the thinker,
+plate+ 206). This was an excellent man, and was handsomely dressed for
his picture. I had much conversation with him, and became very much
attached to him. He seemed to be quite ignorant of the early history
of his tribe, as well as of the position and condition of its few
scattered remnants, who are yet in existence. He told me, however, that
he had always learned that the Iroquois had conquered nearly all the
world; but the Great Spirit being offended at the great slaughters by
his favourite people, resolved to punish them; and he sent a dreadful
disease amongst them, that carried the most of them off, and all the
rest that could be found, were killed by their enemies—that though he
was an Iroquois, which he was proud to acknowledge to me, as I was
to “make him live after he was dead;” he wished it to be generally
thought, that he was a Chippeway, that he might live as long as the
Great Spirit had wished it when he made him.[17]
[Illustration: 206]
[13] Since the above was written, the whole of this tribe have been
removed beyond the Missouri, having sold out their lands in the
state of Illinois to the Government.
[14] Since the above was written, the Senecas and all the other
remnants of the Six Nations residing in the state of New York,
have agreed in Treaties with the United States to remove to tracts
of country assigned them, West of the Mississippi, twelve hundred
miles from their reservations in the state of New York.
[15] This celebrated chief died several years since, in his
village near Buffalo; and since his death our famous comedian,
Mr. Placide, has erected a handsome and appropriate monument over
his grave; and I am pleased also to learn, that my friend Wm. L.
Stone, Esq., is building him a still more lasting one in history,
which he is compiling, of the life of this extraordinary man, to an
early perusal of which, I can confidently refer the world for much
curious and valuable information.
[16] The whole of the Six Nations have been by some writers
denominated Iroquois—how correct this may be, I am not quite able
to say; one thing is certain, that is, that the Iroquois tribe did
not all belong to that Confederacy, their original country was on
the shores of the St. Lawrence; and, although one branch of their
nation, the Mohawks, formed a part, and the most effective portion
of that compact, yet the other members of it spoke different
languages; and a great part of the Iroquois moved their settlements
further North and East, instead of joining in the continual wars
carried on by the Six Nations. It is of this part of the tribe that
I am speaking, when I mention them as nearly extinct: and it is
from this branch of the family that I got the portrait which I have
introduced above.
[17] Since the above Letter was written, all the tribes and
remnants of tribes mentioned in it have been removed by the
Government, to lands West of the Mississippi and Missouri, given
to them, in addition to considerable annuities, in consideration
for the immense tracts of country they have left on the frontier,
and within the States. The present positions of these tribes, and
their relative locations to the civilized frontier and the wild,
unjostled tribes, can be seen on a map in the beginning of this
Volume. There are also other tribes there laid down, who have also
been removed by Treaty stipulations, in the same way, which are
treated of in subsequent Letters. The Government, under General
Jackson, strenuously set forth and carried out, the policy of
removing all the semi-civilized and border Indians, to a country
West of the Mississippi; and although the project had many violent
opponents, yet there were very many strong reasons in favour of it,
and the thing _has been at last done_; and a few years will decide,
by the best of all arguments, whether the policy was a good one or
not. I may have occasion to say more on this subject hereafter; and
in the mean time recommend the reader to examine their relative
positions, and contemplate their prospects between their mortal
foes on the West, and their acquisitive _friends_ following them up
from the East.
LETTER—No. 48.
ST. LOUIS.
Whilst I am thus taking a hasty glance at the tribes on the Atlantic
Coast, on the borders of Mexico, and the confines of Canada, the
reader will pardon me for taking him for a few minutes to the mouth
of the Columbia, on the Pacific Coast; which place I have not yet
quite reached myself, in my wild rambles, but most undoubtedly shall
ere long, if my strolling career be not suddenly stopped. I scarcely
need tell the reader where the Columbia River is, since its course and
its character have been so often, and so well described, by recent
travellers through those regions. I can now but glance at this remote
country and its customs; and revert to it again after I shall have
examined it in all its parts, and collected my materials for a fuller
account.
FLAT HEADS.
These are a very numerous people, inhabiting the shores of the Columbia
River, and a vast tract of country lying to the South of it, and living
in a country which is exceedingly sterile and almost entirely, in many
parts, destitute of game for the subsistence of the savage; they are
mostly obliged to live on roots, which they dig from the ground, and
fish which they take from the streams; the consequences of which are,
that they are generally poor and miserably clad; and in no respect
equal to the Indians of whom I have heretofore spoken, who live on the
East of the Rocky Mountains, in the ranges of the buffaloes; where they
are well-fed, and mostly have good horses to ride, and materials in
abundance for manufacturing their beautiful and comfortable dresses.
The people generally denominated Flat Heads, are divided into a great
many bands, and although they have undoubtedly got their name from the
custom of flattening the head; yet there are but very few of those so
denominated, who actually practice that extraordinary custom.
The _Nez Percés_ who inhabit the upper waters and mountainous parts of
the Columbia, are a part of this tribe, though they are seldom known
to flatten the head like those lower down, and about the mouth of the
river. _Hee-oh’ks-te-kin_ (the rabbit skin leggings, +plate+ 207), and
_H’co-a-h’co a-h’cotes-min_ (no horns on his head, +plate+ 208), are
young men of this tribe. These two young men, when I painted them,
were in beautiful Sioux dresses, which had been presented to them
in a talk with the Sioux, who treated them very kindly, while passing
through the Sioux country. These two men were part of a delegation that
came across the Rocky Mountains to St. Louis, a few years since, to
enquire for the truth of a representation which they said some white
man had made amongst them, “that our religion was better than theirs,
and that they would all be lost if they did not embrace it.”
[Illustration: 207 208]
[Illustration: 209 210]
Two old and venerable men of this party died in St. Louis, and I
travelled two thousand miles, companion with these two young fellows,
towards their own country, and became much pleased with their manners
and dispositions.
The last mentioned of the two, died near the mouth of the Yellow
Stone River on his way home, with disease which he had contracted
in the civilized district; and the other one I have since learned,
arrived safely amongst his friends, conveying to them the melancholy
intelligence of the deaths of all the rest of his party; but assurances
at the same time, from General Clark, and many Reverend gentlemen,
that the report which they had heard was well founded; and that
missionaries, good and religious men, would soon come amongst them to
teach this religion, so that they could all understand and have the
benefits of it.
When I first heard the report of the object of this extraordinary
mission across the mountains, I could scarcely believe it; but on
conversing with General Clark on a future occasion, I was fully
convinced of the fact; and I, like thousands of others, have had the
satisfaction of witnessing the complete success that has crowned the
bold and daring exertions of Mr. Lee and Mr. Spalding, two Reverend
gentlemen who have answered in a Christian manner to this unprecedented
call; and with their wives have crossed the most rugged wilds and
wildernesses of the Rocky Mountains, and triumphantly proved to the
world, that the Indians, in their native wilds are a kind and friendly
people, and susceptible of mental improvement.
I had long been of the opinion, that to ensure success, the exertions
of pious men should be carried into the heart of the wilderness, beyond
the reach and influence of civilized vices; and I so expressed my
opinion to the Reverend Mr. Spalding and his lady, in Pittsburgh, when
on their way, in their first Tour to that distant country. I have seen
the Reverend Mr. Lee and several others of the mission, several years
since the formation of their school; as well as several gentlemen who
have visited their settlement, and from all, I am fully convinced of
the complete success of these excellent and persevering gentlemen, in
proving to the world the absurdity of the assertion that has been often
made, “that the Indian can never be civilized or christianized.” Their
uninterrupted transit over such a vast and wild journey, also, with
their wives on horseback, who were everywhere on their way, as well as
amongst the tribes where they have located, treated with the utmost
kindness and respect, bears strong testimony to the assertions so often
made by travellers in those countries, that these are, in their native
state, a kind and excellent people.
I hope I shall on a future occasion, be able to give the reader some
further detailed account of the success of these zealous and excellent
men, whose example, of penetrating to the _heart_ of the Indian
country, and _there_ teaching the Indian in the true and effective
way, will be a lasting honour to themselves, and I fully believe, a
permanent benefit to those ignorant and benighted people.
THE CHINOOKS.
Inhabiting the lower parts of the Columbia, are a small tribe, and
correctly come under the name of Flat Heads, as they are almost
the only people who strictly adhere to the custom of squeezing and
flattening the head. +Plate+ 209, is the portrait of a Chinook boy,
of fifteen or eighteen years of age, on whose head that frightful
operation has never been performed. And in +plate+ 210, will be seen
the portrait of a Chinook woman, with her child in her arms, her own
head flattened, and the infant undergoing the process of flattening;
which is done by placing its back on a board, or thick plank, to which
it is lashed with thongs, to a position from which it cannot escape,
and the back of the head supported by a sort of pillow, made of moss
or rabbit skins, with an inclined piece (as is seen in the drawing),
resting on the forehead of the child; being every day drawn down a
little tighter by means of a cord, which holds it in its place, until
it at length touches the nose; thus forming a straight line from the
crown of the head to the end of the nose.
This process is seemingly a very cruel one, though I doubt whether it
causes much pain; as it is done in earliest infancy, whilst the bones
are soft and cartilaginous, and easily pressed into this distorted
shape, by forcing the occipital up, and the frontal down; so that the
skull at the top, in profile, will show a breadth of not more than an
inch and a half, or two inches; when in a front view it exhibits a
great expansion on the sides, making it at the top, nearly the width of
one and a half natural heads.
By this remarkable operation, the brain is singularly changed from its
natural shape; but in all probability, not in the least diminished
or injured in its natural functions. This belief is drawn from the
testimony of many credible witnesses, who have closely scrutinized
them; and ascertained that those who have the head flattened, are in no
way inferior in intellectual powers to those whose heads are in their
natural shapes.
In the process of flattening the head, there is often another form of
crib or cradle, into which the child is placed, much in the form of a
small canoe, dug out of a log of wood, with a cavity just large enough
to admit the body of the child, and the head also, giving it room to
expand in width; while from the head of the cradle there is a sort of
lever, with an elastic spring to it that comes down on the forehead
of the child, and produces the same effects as the one I have above
described.
The child is wrapped in rabbits’ skins, and placed in this little
coffin-like looking cradle, from which it is not, in some instances,
taken out for several weeks. The bandages over and about the lower
limbs, and as high up as the breast, are loose, and repeatedly taken
off in the same day, as the child may require cleansing; but the head
and shoulders are kept strictly in the same position, and the breast
given to the child by holding it up in the cradle, loosing the outer
end of the lever that comes over the nose, and raising it up of turning
it aside, so as to allow the child to come at the breast, without
moving its head.
[Illustration: 210½]
The length of time that the infants are generally carried in these
cradles is three, five, or eight weeks, until the bones are so formed
as to keep their shapes, and preserve this singular appearance through
life.
This little cradle has a strap, which passes over the woman’s forehead
whilst the cradle rides on her back; and if the child dies during its
subjection to this rigid mode, its cradle becomes its coffin, forming
a little canoe, in which it lies floating on the water in some sacred
pool, where they are often in the habit of fastening the canoes,
containing the dead bodies of the old and the young; or which is often
the case, elevated into the branches of trees, where their bodies
are left to decay, and their bones to dry; whilst they are bandaged
in many skins, and curiously packed in their canoes, with paddles to
propel, and ladles to bail them out, and provisions to last, and pipes
to smoke, as they are performing their “long journey after death, to
their contemplated hunting-grounds,” which these people think is to be
performed in their canoes.
In +plate+ 210½ letter _a_, is an accurate drawing of the
above-mentioned cradle, perfectly exemplifying the custom described;
and by the side of it (letter _b_,) the drawing of a Chinook skull,
giving the front and profile view of it. Letter _c_, in the same plate,
exhibits an Indian skull in its _natural_ shape, to contrast with the
_artificial_.[18]
This mode of flattening the head is certainly one of the most
unaccountable, as well as unmeaning customs, found amongst the
North American Indians. What it could have originated in, or for
what purpose, other than a mere useless fashion, it could have been
invented, no human being can probably ever tell. The Indians have many
curious and ridiculous fashions, which have come into existence, no
doubt, by accident, and are of no earthly use (like many silly fashions
in enlightened society), yet they are perpetuated much longer, and
that only because their ancestors practiced them in ages gone by. The
greater part of Indian modes, however, and particularly those that are
accompanied with much pain or trouble in their enactment, are most
wonderfully adapted to the production of some good or useful results;
for which the inquisitive world, I am sure, may for ever look in vain
to this stupid and useless fashion, that has most unfortunately been
engendered on these ignorant people, whose superstition forbids them to
lay it down.
It is a curious fact, and one that should be mentioned here, that
these people have not been alone in this strange custom; but that it
existed and was practiced precisely the same, until recently, amongst
the Choctaws and Chickasaws; who occupied a large part of the states of
Mississippi and Alabama, where they have laid their bones, and hundreds
of their skulls have been procured, bearing incontrovertible evidence
of a similar treatment, with similar results.
The Choctaws who are now living, do not flatten the head; the custom,
like that of the _medicine-bag_, and many others, which the Indians
have departed from, from the assurances of white people, that they were
of no use, and were utterly ridiculous to be followed. Whilst amongst
the Choctaws, I could learn little more from the people about such a
custom, than that “their old men recollected to have heard it spoken
of”—which is much less satisfactory evidence than inquisitive white
people get by referring to the grave, which the Indian never meddles
with. The distance of the Choctaws from the country of the Chinooks,
is certainly between two and three thousand miles; and there being no
intervening tribes practicing the same custom—and no probability that
any two tribes in a state of Nature, would ever hit upon so peculiar
an absurdity, we come, whether willingly or not, to the conclusion,
that these tribes must at some former period, have lived neighbours
to each other, or have been parts of the same family; which time and
circumstances have gradually removed to such a very great distance from
each other. Nor does this, in my opinion (as many suppose), furnish
any very strong evidence in support of the theory, that the different
tribes have all sprung from one stock; but carries a strong argument to
the other side, by furnishing proof of the very great tenacity these
people have for their peculiar customs; many of which are certainly not
general, but often carried from one end of the Continent to the other,
or from ocean to ocean, by bands or sections of tribes, which often get
“run off” by their enemies in wars, or in hunting, as I have before
described; where to emigrate to a vast distance is not so unaccountable
a thing, but almost the _inevitable result_, of a tribe that have got
set in motion, all the way amongst deadly foes, in whose countries it
would be fatal to stop.
I am obliged therefore, to believe, that either the Chinooks emigrated
from the Atlantic, or that the Choctaws came from the West side of the
Rocky Mountains; and I regret exceedingly that I have not been able as
yet, to compare the languages of these two tribes, in which I should
expect to find some decided resemblance. They might, however, have been
near neighbours, and practicing a copied custom where there was no
resemblance in their language.
Whilst among the Choctaws I wrote down from the lips of one of their
chiefs, the following tradition, which seems strongly to favour the
supposition that they came from a great distance in the West, and
probably from beyond the Rocky Mountains:—_Tradition_. “The Choctaws,
a great many winters ago, commenced moving from the country where
they then lived, which was a great distance to the West of the great
river, and the mountains of snow; and they were a great many years on
their way. A great medicine-man led them the whole way, by going before
with a red pole, which he stuck in the ground every night where they
encamped. This pole was every morning found leaning to the East; and
he told them that they must continue to travel to the East, until the
pole would stand upright in their encampment, and that there the Great
Spirit had directed that they should live. At a place which they named
_Nah-ne-wa-ye_ (the sloping hill); the pole stood straight up, where
they pitched their encampment, which was one mile square, with the men
encamped on the outside, and the women and children in the centre;
which is the centre of the old Choctaw nation to ‘this day.’”
In the vicinity of the mouth of the Columbia, there are, besides the
_Chinooks_, the _Klick-a-tacks_, _Cheehaylas_, _Na-as_, and many other
tribes, whose customs are interesting, and of whose manufactures, my
Museum contains many very curious and interesting specimens, from which
I have inserted a few outlines in +plate+ 210½, to which the reader
will refer. Letter _d_, is a correct drawing of a Chinook canoe—_e_,
a Na-as war-canoe, curiously carved and painted—_f_, two dishes or
ladles for baling their canoes—_g_, a Stikeen mask, curiously carved
and painted, worn by the mystery-men when in councils, for the purpose
of calling up the Great or Evil Spirits to consult an the policy of
peace or war—_h_, custom of the _Na-as_ women of wearing a block of
wood in the under lip, which is almost as unaccountable as the custom
of flattening the head. Letter _i_, is a drawing of the block, and
the exact dimensions of one in the Collection, taken out of the lip
of a deceased _Na-as_ woman—_k_, “wapito diggers,” instruments used
by the women for digging the wapito, a bulbous root, much like a
turnip, which the French Traders call _pomme blanche_, and which I have
before described. Letter _l_, _pau-to-mau-gons_, or _po-ko-mo-kons_,
war-clubs, the one made by the Indians from a piece of native copper,
the other of the bone of the sperm whale. Letter _n_, two very
curiously carved pipes, made of black slate and highly polished.
Besides these, the visitor will find in the Collection a great number
of their very ingenious articles of dress; their culinary, war, and
hunting implements, as well as specimens of their spinning and weaving,
by which they convert dog’s hair and the wool of the mountain-sheep
into durable and splendid robes, the production of which, I venture to
say, would bid defiance to any of the looms in the American or British
Factories.
The Indians who inhabit the rugged wildernesses of the Rocky Mountains,
are chiefly the Blackfeet and Crows, of whom I have heretofore spoken,
and the Shoshonees or Snakes, who are a part of the Camanchees,
speaking the same language, and the Shoshokies or root diggers, who
inhabit the southern parts of those vast and wild realms, with the
Arapahoes and Navahoes, who are neighbours to the Camanchees on the
West, having Santa Fe on the South, and the coast of California on
the West. Of the Shoshonees and Shoshokies, all travellers who have
spoken of them, give them a good character, as a kind and hospitable
and harmless people; to which fact I could cite the unquestionable
authorities of the excellent Rev. Mr. Parker, who has published his
interesting Tour across the Rocky Mountains—Lewis and Clarke—Capt.
Bonneville and others; and I allege it to be a truth, that the
reason why we find them as they are uniformly described, a kind and
inoffensive people, is, that they have not as yet been abused—that they
are in their primitive state, as the Great Spirit made and endowed them
with good hearts and kind feelings, unalloyed and untainted by the
vices of the money-making world.
To the same fact, relative to the tribes on the Columbia river, I have
been allowed to quote the authority of H. Beaver, a very worthy and
kind Reverend Gentleman of England, who has been for several years past
living with these people, and writes to me thus:—
“I shall be always ready, with pleasure, to testify my perfect
accordance with the sentiments I have heard you express, both in
your public lectures, and private conversation, relative to the
much-traduced character of our Red brethren, particularly as it relates
to their _honesty_, _hospitality_ and _peaceableness_, throughout the
length and breadth of the Columbia. Whatever of a contrary disposition
has at any time, in those parts, been displayed by them, has, I
am persuaded been exotic, and forced on them by the depravity and
impositions of the white Traders.”
[18] Besides these, there are a number of other skulls in the
Collection, most interesting specimens, from various tribes.
LETTER—No. 49.
ST. LOUIS.
In one of my last Letters from Fort Gibson, written some months since.
I promised to open my note-book on a future occasion, to give some
further account of tribes and remnants of tribes located in that
vicinity, amongst whom I had been spending some time with my pen and
my pencil; and having since that time extended my rambles over much of
that ground again, and also through the regions of the East and South
East, from whence the most of those tribes have emigrated; I consider
this a proper time to say something more of them, and their customs and
condition, before I go farther.
The most of these, as I have said, are tribes or parts of tribes which
the Government has recently, by means of Treaty stipulations, removed
to that wild and distant country, on to lands which have been given to
them in exchange for their valuable possessions within the States, ten
or twelve hundred miles to the East.
Of a number of such reduced and removed tribes, who have been located
West of the Missouri, and North of St. Louis, I have already spoken in
a former Letter, and shall yet make brief mention of another, which has
been conducted to the same region—and then direct the attention of the
reader to those which are settled in the neighbourhood of Fort Gibson,
who are the Cherokees—Creeks—Choctaws—Chickasaws—Seminoles, and Euchees.
The people above alluded to are the
SHA-WA-NO’S.
The history of this once powerful tribe is so closely and necessarily
connected with that of the United States, and the revolutionary war,
that it is generally pretty well understood. This tribe formerly
inhabited great parts of the states of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, (and
for the last sixty years,) a part of the states of Ohio and Indiana,
to which they had removed; and now, a considerable portion of them,
a tract of country several hundred miles West of the Mississippi,
which has been conveyed to them by Government in exchange for their
lands in Ohio, from which it is expected the remainder of the tribe
will soon move. It has been said that this tribe came formerly from
Florida, but I do not believe it. The mere fact, that there is found
in East Florida a river by the name of _Su-wa-nee_, which bears some
resemblance to _Sha-wa-no_, seems, as far as I can learn, to be the
principal evidence that has been adduced for the fact. They have
evidently been known, and that within the scope of our authenticated
history, on the Atlantic coast—on the Delaware and Chesapeak bays.
And after that, have fought their way against every sort of trespass
and abuse—against the bayonet and disease, through the states of
Pennsylvania, Delaware and Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri, to
their present location near the Konzas River, at least 1500 miles from
their native country.
This tribe and the Delawares, of whom I have spoken, were neighbours
on the Atlantic coast, and alternately allies and enemies, have
retrograded and retreated together—have fought their enemies united,
and fought each other, until their remnants that have outlived their
nation’s calamities, have now settled as neighbours together in the
Western wilds; where, it is probable, the sweeping hand of death will
soon relieve _them_ from further necessity of warring or moving; and
the _Government_, from the necessity or policy of proposing to them a
yet more distant home. In their long and disastrous pilgrimage, both
of these tribes laid claim to, and alternately occupied the beautiful
and renowned valley of Wy-ô-ming; and after strewing the Susquehana’s
lovely banks with their bones, and their tumuli, they both yielded at
last to the dire necessity, which follows all civilized intercourse
with natives, and fled to the Alleghany, and at last to the banks of
the Ohio; where necessity soon came again, and again, and again, until
the great _“Guardian” of all “red children”_ placed them where they now
are.
There are of this tribe remaining about 1200; some few of whom are
agriculturists, and industrious and temperate, and religious people;
but the greater proportion of them are miserably poor and dependent,
having scarcely the ambition to labour or to hunt, and a passion for
whiskey-drinking, that sinks them into the most abject poverty, as they
will give the last thing they possess for a drink of it.
There is not a tribe on the Continent whose history is more interesting
than that of the Shawanos, nor any one that has produced more
extraordinary men.
The great Tecumseh, whose name and history I can but barely allude
to at this time, was the chief of this tribe, and perhaps the most
extraordinary Indian of his age.
The present chief of the tribe _Lay-law-she-kaw_ (he who goes up the
river, +plate+ 211), is a very aged, but extraordinary man, with a
fine and intelligent head, and his ears slit and stretched down to
his shoulders, a custom highly valued in this tribe; which is done
by severing the rim of the ear with a knife, and stretching it down
by wearing heavy weights attached to it at times, to elongate it as
much as possible, making a large orifice, through which, on parades,
&c. they often pass a bunch of arrows of quills, and wear them as
ornaments.
In this instance (which was not an unusual one), the rims of the ears
were so extended down, that they touched the shoulders, making a ring
through which the whole hand could easily be passed. The daughter of
this old chief, _Ka-te-qua_ (the female eagle, +plate+ 212), was an
agreeable-looking girl, of fifteen years of age, and much thought of by
the tribe. _Pah-te-coo-saw_ (the straight man, +plate+ 213), a warrior
of this tribe, has distinguished himself by his exploits; and when he
sat for his picture, had painted his face in a very curious manner with
black and red paint.
_Ten-squa-ta-way_ (the open door, +plate+ 214), called the “_Shawnee
Prophet_,” is perhaps one of the most remarkable men, who has
flourished on these frontiers for some time past. This man is brother
of the famous Tecumseh, and quite equal in his _medicines_ or
mysteries, to what his brother was in arms; he was blind in his left
eye, and in his right hand he was holding his “_medicine fire_,” and
his “_sacred string of beans_” in the other. With these mysteries
he made his way through most of the North Western tribes, enlisting
warriors wherever he went, to assist Tecumseh in effecting his great
scheme, of forming a confederacy of all the Indians on the frontier,
to drive back the whites and defend the Indians’ rights; which he told
them could never in any other way be protected. His plan was certainly
a correct one, if not a very great one; and his brother, the Prophet,
exercised his astonishing influence in raising men for him to fight his
battles, and carry out his plans. For this purpose, he started upon
an embassy to the various tribes on the Upper Missouri, nearly all of
which he visited with astonishing success; exhibiting his mystery fire,
and using his sacred string of beans, which every young man who was
willing to go to war, was to touch, thereby taking the solemn oath to
start when called upon, and not to turn back.
In this most surprising manner, this ingenious man entered the villages
of most of his inveterate enemies, and of others who never had heard
of the name of his tribe; and manœuvred in so successful a way, as to
make his medicines a safe passport for him to all of their villages;
and also the means of enlisting in the different tribes, some eight or
ten thousand warriors, who had solemnly sworn to return with him on his
way back; and to assist in the wars that Tecumseh was to wage against
the whites on the frontier. I found, on my visit to the Sioux—to the
Puncahs, to the Riccarees and the Mandans, that he had been there,
and even to the Blackfeet; and everywhere told them of the potency of
his mysteries, and assured them, that if they allowed the fire to go
out in their wigwams, it would prove fatal to them in every case. He
carried with him into every wigwam that he visited, the image of a
dead person of the size of life; which was made ingeniously of some
light material, and always kept concealed under bandages of thin white
muslin cloths and not to be opened; of this he made great mystery, and
got his recruits to swear by touching a sacred string of white beans,
which he had attached to its neck or some other way secreted about
it. In this way by his extraordinary cunning, he had carried terror
into the country as far as he went; and had actually enlisted some
eight or ten thousand men, who were sworn to follow him home; and in
a few days would have been on their way with him, had not a couple of
his political enemies in his own tribe, followed on his track, even
to those remote tribes, and defeated his plans, by pronouncing him
an impostor; and all of his forms and plans an imposition upon them,
which they would be fools to listen to. In this manner, this great
recruiting officer was defeated in his plans, for raising an army of
men to fight his brother’s battles; and to save his life, he discharged
his medicines as suddenly as possible, and secretly travelled his
way home, over those vast regions, to his own tribe, where the death
of Tecumseh, and the opposition of enemies, killed all his splendid
prospects, and doomed him to live the rest of his days in silence, and
a sort of disgrace; like all men in Indian communities who pretend to
_great medicine_, in any way, and fail; as they all think such failure
an evidence of the displeasure of the Great Spirit, who always judges
right.
This, no doubt, has been a very shrewd and influential man, but
circumstances have destroyed him, as they have many other great men
before him; and he now lives respected, but silent and melancholy
in his tribe. I conversed with him a great deal about his brother
Tecumseh, of whom he spoke frankly, and seemingly with great pleasure;
but of himself and his own great schemes, he would say nothing. He told
me that Tecumseh’s plans were to embody all the Indian tribes in a
grand confederacy, from the province of Mexico, to the Great Lakes, to
unite their forces in an army that would be able to meet and drive back
the white people, who were continually advancing on the Indian tribes,
and forcing them from their lands towards the Rocky Mountains—that
Tecumseh was a great general, and that nothing but his premature death
defeated his grand plan.
The Shawanos, like most of the other remnants of tribes, in whose
countries the game has been destroyed, and by the use of whiskey, have
been reduced to poverty and absolute want, have become, to a certain
degree, agriculturists; raising corn and beans, potatoes, hogs, horses,
&c., so as to be enabled, if they could possess anywhere on earth, a
country which they could have a certainty of holding in perpetuity, as
their own, to plant and raise their own crops, and necessaries of life
from the ground.
The Government have effected with these people, as with most of the
other dispersed tribes, an arrangement by which they are to remove West
of the Mississippi, to lands assigned them; on which they are solemnly
promised a home _for ever_; the uncertain definition of which important
word, time and circumstances alone will determine.
Besides the personages whom I have above-mentioned, I painted the
portraits of several others of note in the tribe; and amongst them
_Lay-loo-ah-pe-ai-shee-kaw_ (the grass-bush and blossom), whom I
introduce in this place, rather from the very handy and poetical name,
than from any great personal distinction known to have been acquired by
him.
[Illustration: 211 212]
[Illustration: 213 214]
+The CHER-O-KEES.+
Living in the vicinity of, and about Fort Gibson, on the Arkansas,
and 700 miles west of the Mississippi river, are a third part or more
of the once very numerous and powerful tribe who inhabited and still
inhabit, a considerable part of the state of Georgia, and under a
Treaty made with the United States Government, have been removed to
those regions, where they are settled on a fine tract of country;
and having advanced somewhat in the arts and agriculture before they
started, are now found to be mostly living well, cultivating their
fields of corn and other crops, which they raise with great success.
Under a serious difficulty existing between these people (whom their
former solemn Treaties with the United States Government, were
acknowledged a free and independent nation, with powers to make and
enforce their own laws), and the state of Georgia, which could not
admit such a Government within her sovereignty, it was thought most
expedient by the Government of the United States, to propose to them,
for the fourth or fifth time, to enter into Treaty stipulations again
to move; and by so doing to settle the difficult question with the
state of Georgia, and at the same time, to place them in peaceable
possession of a large tract of fine country, where they would for ever
be free from the continual trespasses and abuses which it was supposed
they would be subjected to, if they were to remain in the state of
Georgia, under the present difficulties and the high excited feelings
which were then existing in the minds of many people along their
borders.
_John Ross_, a civilized and highly educated and accomplished
gentleman, who is the head-chief of the tribe, (+plate+ 215), and
several of his leading subordinate chiefs, have sternly and steadily
rejected the proposition of such a Treaty; and are yet, with a great
majority of the nation remaining on their own ground in the state of
Georgia, although some six or 7000 of the tribe have several years
since removed to the Arkansas, under the guidance and controul of an
aged and dignified chief by the name of _Jol-lee_ (+plate+ 217).
This man, like most of the chiefs, as well as a very great proportion
of the Cherokee population, has a mixture of white and red blood in
his veins, of which, in this instance, the first seems decidedly to
predominate. Another chief, and second to this, amongst this portion of
the Cherokees, by the name of Teh-ke-neh-kee (the black coat), I have
also painted and placed in my Collection, as well as a very interesting
specimen of the Cherokee women (+plate+ 216).
I have travelled pretty generally through the several different
locations of this interesting tribe, both in the Western and Eastern
divisions, and have found them, as well as the Choctaws and Creeks,
their neighbours, very far advanced in the arts; affording to the world
the most satisfactory evidences that are to be found in America, of the
fact, that the Indian was not made to shun and evade good example, and
necessarily to live and die a brute, as many speculating men would
needs record them and treat them, until they are robbed and trampled
into the dust; that no living evidences might give the lie to their
theories, or draw the cloak from their cruel and horrible iniquities.
As I have repeatedly said to my readers, in the course of my former
epistles, that the greater part of my time would be devoted to the
condition and customs of the tribes that might be found in their
primitive state, they will feel disposed to pardon me for barely
introducing the Cherokees, and several others of these very interesting
tribes, and leaving them and their customs and histories (which are of
themselves enough for volumes), to the reader, who is, perhaps, nearly
as familiar as I am myself, with the full and fair accounts of these
people, who have had their historians and biographers.
The history of the Cherokees and other numerous remnants of tribes,
who are the exhabitants of the finest and most valued portions of the
United States, is a subject of great interest and importance, and has
already been woven into the most valued histories of the country, as
well as forming material parts of the archives of the Government, which
is my excuse for barely introducing the reader to them, and beckoning
him off again to the native and untrodden wilds, to teach him something
new and unrecorded. Yet I leave the subject, as I left the people (to
whom I became attached, for their kindness and friendship), with a
heavy heart, wishing them success and the blessing of the Great Spirit,
who alone can avert the _doom_ that would almost seem to be fixed for
their unfortunate race.
The Cherokees amount in all to about 22,000, 16,000 of whom are yet
living in Georgia, under the Government of their chief, John Ross,
whose name I have before mentioned; with this excellent man, who has
been for many years devotedly opposed to the Treaty stipulations for
moving from their country, I have been familiarly acquainted; and,
notwithstanding the bitter invective and animadversions that have been
by his political enemies heaped upon him, I feel authorized, and bound,
to testify to the unassuming and gentlemanly urbanity of his manners,
as well as to the rigid temperance of his habits, and the purity of
his language, in which I never knew him to transgress for a moment, in
public or private interviews.
At this time, the most strenuous endeavours are making on the part
of the Government and the state of Georgia, for the completion of an
arrangement for the removal of the whole of this tribe, as well as
of the Choctaws and Seminoles; and I have not a doubt of their final
success, which seems, from all former experience, to attend every
project of the kind made by the Government to their red children.[19]
[Illustration: 215 216]
[Illustration: 217 218]
[Illustration: 219 220]
[Illustration: 221 222]
It is not for me to decide, nor in this place to reason, as to the
justice or injustice of the treatment of these people at the hands of
the Government or individuals; or of the wisdom of the policy which is
to place them in a new, though vast and fertile country, 1000 miles
from the land of their birth, in the doubtful dilemma whether to break
the natural turf with their rusting ploughshares, or string their bows,
and dash over the boundless prairies, beckoned on by the alluring
dictates of their nature, seeking laurels amongst the ranks of their
new enemies, and subsistence amongst the herds of buffaloes.
Besides the Cherokees in Georgia, and those that I have spoken of in
the neighbourhood of Fort Gibson, there is another band or family
of the same tribe, of several hundreds, living on the banks of the
Canadian river, an hundred or more miles South West of Fort Gibson,
under the Government of a distinguished chief by the name of _Tuch-ee_
(familiarly called by the white people, “_Dutch_,” +plate+ 218). This
is one of the most extraordinary men that lives on the frontiers at
the present day, both for his remarkable history, and for his fine and
manly figure, and character of face.
This man was in the employment of the Government as a guide and hunter
for the regiment of dragoons, on their expedition to the Camanchees,
where I had him for a constant companion for several months, and
opportunities in abundance, for studying his true character, and
of witnessing his wonderful exploits in the different varieties of
the chase. The history of this man’s life has been very curious and
surprising; and I sincerely hope that some one, with more leisure and
more talent than myself, will take it up, and do it justice. I promise
that the life of this man furnishes the best materials for a popular
tale, that are now to be procured on the Western frontier.
He is familiarly known, and much of his life, to all the officers who
have been stationed at Fort Gibson, or at any of the posts in that
region of country.
Some twenty years or more since, becoming fatigued and incensed with
civilized encroachments, that were continually making on the borders of
the Cherokee country in Georgia, where he then resided, and probably,
foreseeing the disastrous results they were to lead to, he beat up
for volunteers to emigrate to the West, where he had designed to go,
and colonize in a wild country beyond the reach and contamination of
civilized innovations; and succeeded in getting several hundred men,
women, and children, whom he led over the banks of the Mississippi, and
settled upon the head waters of White River, where they lived until
the appearance of white faces, which began to peep through the forests
at them, when they made another move of 600 miles to the banks of the
Canadian, where they now reside; and where, by the system of desperate
warfare, which he has carried on against the Osages and the Camanchees,
he has successfully cleared away from a large tract of fine country,
all the enemies that could contend for it, and now holds it, with his
little band of myrmidons, as their own undisputed soil, where they are
living comfortably by raising from the soil fine crops of corn and
potatoes, and other necessaries of life; whilst they indulge whenever
they please, in the pleasures of the chase amongst the herds of
buffaloes, or in the natural propensity for ornamenting their dresses
and their war-clubs with the scalp-locks of their enemies.
+The CREEKS (or MUS-KO-GEES).+
Of 20,000 in numbers, have, until quite recently, occupied an immense
tract of country in the states of Mississippi and Alabama; but by a
similar arrangement (and for a similar purpose) with the Government,
have exchanged their possessions there for a country, adjoining to
the Cherokees, on the South side of the Arkansas, to which they have
already all removed, and on which, like the Cherokees, they are laying
out fine farms, and building good houses, in which they live; in many
instances, surrounded by immense fields of corn and wheat. There is
scarcely a finer country on earth than that now owned by the Creeks;
and in North America, certainly no Indian tribe more advanced in the
arts and agriculture than they are. It is no uncommon thing to see a
Creek with twenty or thirty slaves at work on his plantation, having
brought them from a slave-holding country, from which, in their long
journey, and exposure to white man’s ingenuity, I venture to say, that
most of them got rid of one-half of them, whilst on their long and
disastrous crusade.
The Creeks, as well as the Cherokees and Choctaws, have good schools
and churches established amongst them, conducted by excellent and pious
men, from whose example they are drawing great and lasting benefits.
In +plates+ 219 and 220, I have given the portraits of two
distinguished men, and I believe, both chiefs. The first by the name of
_Stee-cha-co-me-co_ (the great king), familiarly called “Ben Perryman;”
and the other. _Hol-te-mal-te-tez-te-neehk-ee_ (——), called “Sam
Perryman.” These two men are brothers, and are fair specimens of the
tribe, who are mostly clad in calicoes, and other cloths of civilized
manufacture; tasselled and fringed oft by themselves in the most
fantastic way, and sometimes with much true and picturesque taste. They
use a vast many beads, and other trinkets, to hang upon their necks,
and ornament their moccasins and beautiful belts.
+The CHOCTAWS.+
Of fifteen thousand, are another tribe, removed from the Northern
parts of Alabama, and Mississippi, within the few years past, and now
occupying a large and rich tract of country, South of the Arkansas and
the Canadian rivers; adjoining to the country of the Creeks and the
Cherokees, equally civilized, and living much in the same manner.
[Illustration: 223]
In this tribe I painted the portrait of their famous and excellent
chief, _Mo-sho-la-tub-bee_ (he who puts out and kills, +plate+ 221),
who has since died of the small-pox. In the same plate will also be
seen, the portrait of a distinguished and very gentlemanly man, who
has been well-educated, and who gave me much curious and valuable
information, of the history and traditions of his tribe. The name of
this man, is _Ha-tchoc-tuck-nee_ (the snapping turtle, +plate+ 222),
familiarly called by the whites “_Peter Pinchlin_.”
These people seem, even in their troubles, to be happy; and have,
like all the other remnants of tribes, preserved with great tenacity
their different games, which it would seem they are everlastingly
practicing for want of other occupations or amusements in life. Whilst
I was staying at the Choctaw agency in the midst of their nation, it
seemed to be a sort of season of amusements, a kind of holiday; when
the whole tribe almost, were assembled around the establishment, and
from day to day we were entertained with some games or feats that were
exceedingly amusing: horse-racing, dancing, wrestling, foot-racing, and
ball-playing, were amongst the most exciting; and of all the catalogue,
the most beautiful, was decidedly that of ball-playing. This wonderful
game, which is the favourite one amongst all the tribes, and with these
Southern tribes played exactly the same, can never be appreciated by
those who are not happy enough to see it.
It is no uncommon occurrence for six or eight hundred or a thousand of
these young men, to engage in a game of ball, with five or six times
that number of spectators, of men, women and children, surrounding the
ground, and looking on. And I pronounce such a scene, with its hundreds
of Nature’s most beautiful models, denuded, and painted of various
colours, running and leaping into the air, in all the most extravagant
and varied forms, in the desperate struggles for the ball, a school for
the painter or sculptor, equal to any of those which ever inspired the
hand of the artist in the Olympian games or the Roman forum.
I have made it an uniform rule, whilst in the Indian country, to
attend every ball-play I could hear of, if I could do it by riding a
distance of twenty or thirty miles; and my usual custom has been on
such occasions, to straddle the back of my horse, and look on to the
best advantage. In this way I have sat, and oftentimes reclined, and
almost dropped from my horse’s back, with irresistible laughter at the
succession of droll tricks, and kicks and scuffles which ensue, in
the almost superhuman struggles for the ball. These plays generally
commence at nine o’clock, or near it, in the morning; and I have more
than once balanced myself on my pony, from that time till near sundown,
without more than one minute of intermission at a time, before the game
has been decided.
It is impossible for pen and ink alone, or brushes, or even with their
combined efforts, to give more than a _caricature_ of such a scene; but
such as I have been able to do, I have put upon the canvass, and in
the slight outlines which I have here attached in +plates+ 224, 225,
226, taken from those paintings, (for the colouring to which the reader
must look to my pen,) I will convey as correct an account as I can, and
leave the reader to imagine the rest; or look to _other books_ for what
I may have omitted.
While at the Choctaw agency it was announced, that there was to be a
great play on a certain day, within a few miles, on which occasion I
attended, and made the three sketches which are hereto annexed; and
also the following entry in my note-book, which I literally copy out.
“Monday afternoon at three, o’clock, I rode out with Lieutenants S.
and M., to a very pretty prairie, about six miles distant, to the
ball-play-ground of the Choctaws, where we found several thousand
Indians encamped. There were two points of timber about half a mile
apart, in which the two parties for the play, with their respective
families and friends, were encamped; and lying between them, the
prairie on which the game was to be played. My companions and myself,
although we had been apprised, that to see the whole of a ball-play,
we must remain on the ground all the night previous, had brought
nothing to sleep upon, resolving to keep our eyes open, and see what
transpired through the night. During the afternoon, we loitered about
amongst the different tents and shantees of the two encampments, and
afterwards, at sundown, witnessed the ceremony of measuring out the
ground, and erecting the “byes” or goals which were to guide the play.
Each party had their goal made with two upright posts, about 25 feet
high and six feet apart, set firm in the ground, with a pole across
at the top. These goals were about forty or fifty rods apart; and at
a point just half way between, was another small stake, driven down,
where the ball was to be thrown up at the firing of a gun, to be
struggled for by the players. All this preparation was made by some
old men, who were, it seems, selected to be the judges of the play,
who drew a line from one bye to the other; to which directly came from
the woods, on both sides, a great concourse of women and old men,
boys and girls, and dogs and horses, where bets were to be made on
the play. The betting was all done across this line, and seemed to be
chiefly left to the women, who seemed to have martialled out a little
of everything that their houses and their fields possessed. Goods and
chattels—knives—dresses—blankets—pots and kettles—dogs and horses, and
guns; and all were placed in the possession of _stake-holders_, who sat
by them, and watched them on the ground all night, preparatory to the
play.
The sticks with which this tribe play, are bent into an oblong hoop
at the end, with a sort of slight web of small thongs tied across, to
prevent the ball from passing through. The players hold one of these in
each hand, and by leaping into the air, they catch the ball between the
two nettings and throw it, without being allowed to strike it, or catch
it in their hands.
The mode in which these sticks are constructed and used, will be seen
in the portrait of _Tullock-chish-ko_ (he who drinks the juice of the
stone), the most distinguished ball-player of the Choctaw nation
(+plate+ 223), represented in his ball-play dress, with his ball-sticks
in his hands. In every ball-play of these people, it is a rule of the
play, that no man shall wear moccasins on his feet, or any other dress
than his breech-cloth around his waist, with a beautiful bead belt,
and a “tail,” made of white horsehair or quills, and a “_mane_” on the
neck, of horsehair dyed of various colours.
This game had been arranged and “made up,” three or four months before
the parties met to play it, and in the following manner:—The two
champions who led the two parties, and had the alternate choosing of
the players through the whole tribe, sent runners, with the ball-sticks
most fantastically ornamented with ribbons and red paint, to be touched
by each one of the chosen players; who thereby agreed to be on the
spot at the appointed time and ready for the play. The ground having
been all prepared and preliminaries of the game all settled, and the
bettings all made, and goods all “staked,” night came on without
the appearance of any players on the ground. But soon after dark, a
procession of lighted flambeaux was seen coming from each encampment,
to the ground where the players assembled around their respective
byes; and at the beat of the drums and chaunts of the women, each
party of players commenced the “ball-play dance” (+plate+ 224). Each
party danced for a quarter of an hour around their respective byes,
in their ball-play dress; rattling their ball-sticks together in the
most violent manner, and all singing as loud as they could raise their
voices; whilst the women of each party, who had their goods at stake,
formed into two rows on the line between the two parties of players,
and danced also, in an uniform step, and all their voices joined in
chaunts to the Great Spirit; in which they were soliciting his favour
in deciding the game to their advantage; and also encouraging the
players to exert every power they possessed, in the struggle that
was to ensue. In the mean time, four old _medicine-men_, who were to
have the starting of the ball, and who were to be judges of the play,
were seated at the point where the ball was to be started; and busily
smoking to the Great Spirit for their success in judging rightly, and
impartially, between the parties in so important an affair.
This dance was one of the most picturesque scenes imaginable, and was
repeated at intervals of every half hour during the night, and exactly
in the same manner; so that the players were certainly awake all the
night, and arranged in their appropriate dress, prepared for the play
which was to commence at nine o’clock the next morning. In the morning,
at the hour, the two parties and all their friends, were drawn out
and over the ground; when at length the game commenced, by the judges
throwing up the ball at the firing of a gun; when an instant struggle
ensued between the players, who were some six or seven hundred in
numbers, and were mutually endeavouring to catch the ball in their
sticks, and throw it home and between their respective stakes; which,
whenever successfully done, counts one for game. In this game every
player was dressed alike, that is, _divested_ of all dress, except
the girdle and the tail, which I have before described; and in these
desperate struggles for the ball, when it is _up_ (+plate+ 225, where
hundreds are running together and leaping, actually over each other’s
heads, and darting between their adversaries’ legs, tripping and
throwing, and foiling each other in every possible manner, and every
voice raised to the highest key, in shrill yelps and barks)! there are
rapid successions of feats, and of incidents, that astonish and amuse
far beyond the conception of any one who has not had the singular good
luck to witness them. In these struggles, every mode is used that can
be devised, to oppose the progress of the foremost, who is likely to
get the ball; and these obstructions often meet desperate individual
resistance, which terminates in a violent scuffle, and sometimes
in fisticuffs; when their sticks are dropped, and the parties are
unmolested, whilst they are settling it between themselves; unless it
be by a general _stampede_, to which they are subject who are down, if
the ball happens to pass in their direction. Every weapon, by a rule of
all ball-plays, is laid by in their respective encampments, and no man
allowed to go for one; so that the sudden broils that take place on the
ground, are presumed to be as suddenly settled without any probability
of much personal injury; and no one is allowed to interfere in any way
with the contentious individuals.
There are times, when the ball gets to the ground (+plate+ 226),
and such a confused mass rushing together around it, and knocking
their sticks together, without the possibility of any one getting or
seeing it, for the dust that they raise, that the spectator loses his
strength, and everything else but his senses; when the condensed mass
of ball-sticks, and shins, and bloody noses, is carried around the
different parts of the ground, for a quarter of an hour at a time,
without any one of the mass being able to see the ball; and which they
are often thus scuffling for, several minutes after it has been thrown
off, and played over another part of the ground.
For each time that the ball was passed between the stakes of either
party, one was counted for their game, and a halt of about one minute;
when it was again started by the judges of the play, and a similar
struggle ensued; and so on until the successful party arrived to 100,
which was the limit of the game, and accomplished at an hour’s sun,
when they took the stakes; and then, by a previous agreement, produced
a number of jugs of whiskey, which gave all a wholesome drink, and sent
them all off merry and in good humour, but not drunk.
After this exciting day, the concourse was assembled in the vicinity
of the agency house, where we had a great variety of dances and other
amusements; the most of which I have described on former occasions.
One, however, was new to me, and I must say a few words of it: this was
the _Eagle Dance_, a very pretty scene, which is got up by their young
men, in honour of that bird, for which they seem to have a religious
regard. This picturesque dance was given by twelve or sixteen men,
whose bodies were chiefly naked and painted white, with white clay, and
each one holding in his hand the tail of the eagle, while his
head was also decorated with an eagle’s quill (+plate+ 227). Spears
were stuck in the ground, around which the dance was performed by four
men at a time, who had simultaneously, at the beat of the drum, jumped
up from the ground where they had all sat in rows of four, one row
immediately behind the other, and ready to take the place of the first
four when they left the ground fatigued, which they did by hopping or
jumping around behind the rest, and taking their seats, ready to come
up again in their turn, after each of the other sets had been through
the same forms.
[Illustration: 224]
[Illustration: 225]
[Illustration: 226]
In this dance, the steps or rather jumps, were different from anything
I had ever witnessed before, as the dancers were squat down, with their
bodies almost to the ground, in a severe and most difficult posture, as
will have been seen in the drawing.
I have already, in a former Letter, while speaking of the ancient
custom of flattening the head, given a curious tradition of this
interesting tribe, accounting for their having come from the West, and
I here insert another or two, which I had, as well as the former one,
from the lips of Peter Pinchlin, a very intelligent and influential man
in the tribe, of whom I have spoken in page 123.
_The Deluge._ “Our people have always had a tradition of the Deluge,
which happened in this way:—there was total darkness for a great time
over the whole of the earth; the Choctaw doctors or mystery-men looked
out for daylight for a long time, until at last they despaired of ever
seeing it, and the whole nation were very unhappy. At last a light was
discovered in the North and there was great rejoicing, until it was
found to be great mountains of water rolling on, which destroyed them
all, except a few families who had expected it and built a great raft,
on which they were saved.”
_Future State._ “Our people all believe that the spirit lives in a
future state—that it has a great distance to travel after death towards
the West—that it has to cross a dreadful deep and rapid stream, which
is hemmed in on both sides by high and rugged hills—over this stream,
from hill to hill, there lies a long and slippery pine-log, with the
bark peeled off, over which the dead have to pass to the delightful
hunting-grounds. On the other side of the stream there are six persons
of the good hunting-grounds, with rocks in their hands, which they
throw at them all when they are on the middle of the log. The good walk
on safely, to the good hunting-grounds, where there is one continual
day—where the trees are always green—where the sky has no clouds—where
there are continual fine and cooling breezes—where there is one
continual scene of feasting, dancing and rejoicing—where there is no
pain or trouble, and people never grow old, but for ever live young and
enjoy the youthful pleasures.
“The wicked see the stones coming, and try to dodge, by which they fall
from the log, and go down thousands of feet to the water, which is
dashing over the rocks, and is stinking with dead fish, and animals,
where they are carried around and brought continually back to the same
place in whirlpools—where the trees are all dead, and the waters are
full of toads and lizards, and snakes—where the dead are always hungry,
and have nothing to eat—are always sick, and never die—where the sun
never shines, and where the wicked are continually climbing up by
thousands on the sides of a high rock from which they can overlook the
beautiful country of the good hunting-grounds, the place of the happy,
but never can reach it.”
Origin of the _Craw-fish band_. “Our people have amongst them a band
which is called, the _Craw-fish band_. They formerly, but at a very
remote period, lived under ground, and used to come up out of the
mud—they were a species of craw-fish; and they went on their hands and
feet, and lived in a large cave deep under ground, where there was no
light for several miles. They spoke no language at all, nor could they
understand any. The entrance to their cave was through the mud—and
they used to run down through that, and into their cave; and thus, the
Choctaws were for a long time unable to molest them. The Choctaws used
to lay and wait for them to come out into the sun, where they would try
to talk to them, and cultivate an acquaintance.
“One day, a parcel of them were run upon so suddenly by the Choctaws,
that they had no time to go through the mud into their cave, but
were driven into it by another entrance, which they had through the
rocks. The Choctaws then tried a long time to smoke them out, and
at last succeeded—they treated them kindly—taught them the Choctaw
language—taught them to walk on two legs—made them cut off their toe
nails, and pluck the hair from their bodies, after which they adopted
them into their nation—and the remainder of them are living under
ground to this day.”
[Illustration: 227]
[19] Since writing the above, the Government have succeeded in
removing the remainder of the Cherokees beyond the Mississippi,
where they have taken up their residence along side of their old
friends, who emigrated several years since under _Jol-lee_, as
I have before mentioned. In the few years past, the Government
has also succeeded in stipulating with, and removing West of the
Mississippi, nearly every remnant of tribes spoken of in this
and the two last Letters, so that there are at this time but
a few hundreds of the red men East of the Mississippi; and it
is probable, that a few months more will effect the removal of
the remainder of them. See their present locations West of the
Mississippi, on the map at the beginning of this Volume.
LETTER—No. 50.
FORT SNELLING, _FALL OF ST. ANTHONY_.
Having recruited my health during the last winter, in recreation and
amusements on the Coast of Florida, like a _bird of passage_ I started,
at the rallying notes of the swan and the wild goose, for the cool and
freshness of the North, but the gifted passengers soon left me behind.
I found them here, their nests built—their eggs hatched—their offspring
fledged and figuring in the world, before I arrived.
The majestic river from the Balize to the Fall of St. Anthony, I have
just passed over; with a high-wrought mind filled with amazement
and wonder, like other travellers who occasionally leave the stale
and profitless routine of the “Fashionable Tour,” to gaze with
admiration upon the wild and native grandeur and majesty of this
great Western world. The Upper Mississippi, like the Upper Missouri,
must be approached to be appreciated; for all that can be seen on the
Mississippi below St. Louis, or for several hundred miles above it,
gives no hint or clue to the magnificence of the scenes which are
continually opening to the view of the traveller, and riveting him to
the deck of the steamer, through sunshine, lightning or rain, from the
mouth of the Ouisconsin to the Fall of St. Anthony.
The traveller in ascending the river, will see but little of
picturesque beauty in the landscape, until he reaches Rock Island; and
from that point he will find it growing gradually more interesting,
until he reaches Prairie du Chien; and from that place until he arrives
at Lake Pepin, every reach and turn in the river presents to his eye
a more immense and magnificent scene of grandeur and beauty. From day
to day, the eye is riveted in listless, tireless admiration, upon the
thousand bluffs which tower in majesty above the river on either side,
and alternate as the river bends, into countless fascinating forms.
The whole face of the country is covered with a luxuriant growth of
grass, whether there is timber or not; and the magnificent bluffs,
studding the sides of the river, and rising in the forms of immense
cones, domes and ramparts, give peculiar pleasure, from the deep and
soft green in which they are clad up their broad sides, and to their
extreme tops, with a carpet of grass, with spots and clusters of timber
of a deeper green; and apparently in many places, arranged in orchards
and pleasure-grounds by the hands of art.
The scenes that are passed between Prairie du Chien and St. Peters,
including Lake Pepin, between whose magnificently turretted shores one
passes for twenty-two miles, will amply reward the tourist for the
time and expense of a visit to them. And to him or her of too little
relish for Nature’s rude works, to profit as they pass, there will be
found a redeeming pleasure at the mouth of St. Peters and the Fall of
St. Anthony. This scene has often been described, and I leave it for
the world to come and gaze upon for themselves; recommending to them at
the same time, to denominate the next “Fashionable Tour,” a trip to St.
Louis; thence by steamer to Rock Island, Galena, Dubuque, Prairie du
Chien, Lake Pepin, St. Peters, Fall of St. Anthony, back to Prairie du
Chien, from thence to Fort Winnebago, Green Bay, Mackinaw, Sault de St.
Mary, Detroit, Buffalo, Niagara, and home. This Tour would comprehend
but a small part of the great “Far West;” but it will furnish to the
traveller a fair sample, and being a part of it which is now made
so easily accessible to the world, and the only part of it to which
_ladies_ can have access, I would recommend to all who have time and
inclination to devote to the enjoyment of so splendid a Tour, to wait
not, but make it while the subject is new, and capable of producing the
greatest degree of pleasure. To the world at large, this trip is one of
surpassing interest—to the artist it has a double relish, and to _me_,
still further inducements; inasmuch as, many of the tribes of Indians
which I have met with, furnish manners and customs which have awakened
my enthusiasm, and afforded me interesting materials for my Gallery.
To give to the reader a better idea of the character of the scenes
which I have above described, along the stately shores of the Upper
Mississippi, I have here inserted a river view taken about one hundred
miles below this place (+plate+ 228); and another of “Dubuque’s Grave”
(+plate+ 229) about equi-distant between this and St. Louis; and both
fairly setting forth the predominant character of the shores of the
Upper Mississippi, which are every where covered, as far as the eye can
behold, with a green turf, and occasional forest trees, as seen in the
drawings.
_Dubuque’s Grave_ is a place of great notoriety on this river, in
consequence of its having been the residence and mining place of the
first lead mining pioneer of these regions, by the name of Dubuque, who
held his title under a grant from the Mexican Government (I think), and
settled by the side of this huge bluff, on the pinnacle of which he
erected the tomb to receive his own body, and placed over it a cross
with his own inscription on it. After his death, his body was placed
within the tomb, at his request, lying in state (and uncovered except
with his winding-sheet), upon a large flat stone, where it was exposed
to the view, as his bones now are, to the gaze, of every traveller who
takes the pains to ascend this beautiful, grassy and lilly-covered
mound to the top, and peep through the gratings of two little windows,
which have admitted the eyes, but stopped the sacrilegious _hands_ of
thousands who have taken a walk to it.
At the foot of this bluff, there is now an extensive smelting furnace,
where vast quantities of lead are melted from the ores which are dug
out of the hills in all directions about it.
[Illustration: 228]
[Illustration: 229]
[Illustration: 230]
[Illustration: 231]
The _Fall of St. Anthony_ (+plate+ 230), which is 900 miles above St.
Louis, is the natural curiosity of this country, and nine miles above
the mouth of St. Peters, from whence I am at this time writing. At this
place, on the point of land between the Mississippi and the St. Peters
rivers, the United States’ Government have erected a strong Fort, which
has taken the name of Fort Snelling, from the name of a distinguished
and most excellent officer of that name, who superintended the building
of it. The site of this Fort is one of the most judicious that could
have been selected in the country, both for health and defence; and
being on an elevation of 100 feet or more above the water, has an
exceedingly bold and picturesque effect, as seen in +plate+ 231.
This Fort is generally occupied by a regiment of men placed here to
keep the peace amongst the Sioux and Chippeways, who occupy the country
about it, and also for the purpose of protecting the citizens on the
frontier.
The Fall of St. Anthony is about nine miles above this Fort, and the
junction of the two rivers; and, although a picturesque and spirited
scene, is but a pigmy in size to Niagara, and other cataracts in our
country—the actual perpendicular fall being but eighteen feet, though
of half a mile or so in extent, which is the width of the river; with
brisk and leaping rapids above and below, giving life and spirit to the
scene.
The Sioux who live in the vicinity of the Falls, and occupy all the
country about here, West of the Mississippi, are a part of the great
tribe on the Upper Missouri; and the same in most of their customs,
yet very dissimilar in personal appearance, from the changes which
civilized examples have wrought upon them. I mentioned in a former
Letter, that the country of the Sioux, extended from the base of the
Rocky Mountains to the banks of the Mississippi; and for the whole of
that way, it is more or less settled by this immense tribe, bounding
the East side of their country by the Mississippi River.
The Sioux in these parts, who are out of reach of the beavers and
buffaloes, are poor and very meanly clad, compared to those on the
Missouri, where they are in the midst of those and other wild animals,
whose skins supply them with picturesque and comfortable dresses. The
same deterioration also is seen in the morals and constitutions of
these, as amongst all other Indians, who live along the frontiers, in
the vicinity of our settlements, where whiskey is sold to them, and the
small-pox and other diseases are introduced to shorten their lives.
The principal bands of the Sioux that visit this place, and who live in
the vicinity of it, are those known as the Black Dog’s band—Red Wing’s
band, and Wa-be-sha’s band; each band known in common parlance, by the
name of its chief, as I have mentioned. The Black Dog’s band reside but
a few miles above Fort Snelling, on the banks of the St. Peters, and
number some five or six hundred. The Red Wing’s band are at the head of
Lake Pepin, sixty miles below this place on the West side of the river.
And Wa-be-sha’s band and village are some sixty or more miles below
Lake Pepin on the West side of the river, on a beautiful prairie, known
(and ever will be) by the name of “Wa-be-sha’s prairie.” Each of these
bands, and several others that live in this section of country, exhibit
considerable industry in their agricultural pursuits, raising very
handsome corn-fields, laying up their food, thus procured, for their
subsistence during the long and tedious winters.
The greater part of the inhabitants of these bands are assembled here
at this time, affording us, who are visitors here, a fine and wild
scene of dances, amusements, &c. They seem to take great pleasure in
“showing off” in these scenes, to the amusement of the many fashionable
visitors, both ladies and gentlemen, who are in the habit of reaching
this post, as steamers are arriving at this place every week in the
summer from St. Louis.
Many of the customs of these people create great surprise in the minds
of the travellers of the East, who here have the first satisfactory
opportunity of seeing them; and none, I observe, has created more
surprise, and pleasure also, particularly amongst the ladies, than
the mode of carrying their infants, slung on their backs, in their
beautifully ornamented cradles.
The custom of carrying the child thus is not peculiar to this tribe,
but belongs alike to all, as far as I have yet visited them; and also
as far as I have been able to learn from travellers, who have been
amongst tribes that I have not yet seen. The child in its earliest
infancy, has its back lashed to a straight board, being fastened to
it by bandages, which pass around it in front, and on the back of the
board they are tightened to the necessary degree by lacing strings,
which hold it in a straight and healthy position, with its feet resting
on a broad hoop, which passes around the foot of the cradle, and the
child’s position (as it rides about on its mother’s back, supported
by a broad strap that passes across her forehead), that of standing
erect, which, no doubt, has a tendency to produce straight limbs, sound
lungs, and long life. In +plate+ 232, letter _a_, is a correct drawing
of a Sioux cradle, which is in my Collection, and was purchased from a
Sioux woman’s back, as she was carrying her infant in it, as is seen in
letter _d_ of the same plate.
In this instance, as is often the case, the bandages that pass around
the cradle, holding the child in, are all the way covered with a
beautiful embroidery of porcupine quills, with ingenious figures of
horses, men, &c. A broad hoop of elastic wood passes around in front of
the child’s face, to protect it in case of a fall, from the front of
which is suspended a little toy of exquisite embroidery, for the child
to handle and amuse itself with. To this and other little trinkets
hanging in front of it, there are attached many little tinselled and
tinkling things, of the brightest colours, to amuse both the eyes and
the ears of the child. Whilst travelling on horseback, the arms of
the child are fastened under the bandages, so as not to be endangered
if the cradle falls; and when at rest, they are generally taken out,
allowing the infant to reach and amuse itself with the little toys
and trinkets that are placed before it, and within its reach. This
seems like a cruel mode, but I am inclined to believe that it is a
very good one for the people who use it, and well adapted to the
circumstances under which they live; in support of which opinion, I
offer the universality of the custom, which has been practiced for
centuries amongst all the tribes of North America, as a legitimate and
very strong reason. It is not true that amongst all the tribes the
cradle will be found so much ornamented as in the present instance; but
the model is essentially the same, as well as the mode of carrying it.
[Illustration: 232]
Along the frontiers, where the Indians have been ridiculed for the
custom, as they are for everything that is not _civil_ about them, they
have in many instances departed from it; but even there, they will
generally be seen lugging their child about in this way, when they have
abandoned almost every other native custom, and are too poor to cover
it with more than rags and strings, which fasten it to its cradle.
The infant is carried in this manner until it is five, six or seven
months old, after which it is carried on the back, in the manner
represented in two of the figures of the same plate, and held within
the folds of the robe of blanket.
The modes of carrying the infant when riding, are also here shewn, and
the manner in which the women ride, which, amongst all the tribes, is
_astride_, in the same manner as that practiced by the men.
Letter _b_ in the same plate is a _mourning cradle_, and opens to the
view of the reader another very curious and interesting custom. If the
infant dies during the time that is allotted to it to be carried in
this cradle, it is buried, and the disconsolate mother fills the cradle
with black quills and feathers, in the parts which the child’s body had
occupied, and in this way carries it around with her wherever she goes
for a year or more, with as much care as if her infant were alive and
in it; and she often lays or stands it leaning against the side of the
wigwam, where she is all day engaged in her needle-work, and chatting
and talking to it as familiarly and affectionately as if it were her
loved infant, instead of its shell, that she was talking to. So lasting
and so strong is the affection of these women for the lost child, that
it matters not how heavy or cruel their load, or how rugged the route
they have to pass over, they will faithfully carry this, and carefully
from day to day, and even more strictly perform their duties to it,
than if the child were alive and in it.
In the little toy that I have mentioned, and which is suspended before
the child’s face, is carefully and superstitiously preserved the
_umbilicus_, which is always secured at the time of its birth, and
being rolled up into a little wad of the size of a pea, and dried,
it is enclosed in the centre of this little bag, and placed before
the child’s face, as its protector and its security for “_good luck_”
and long life. Letter _c_, same plate, exhibits a number of forms
and different tastes of several of these little toys, which I have
purchased from the women, which they were very willing to sell for
a trifling present; but in every instance, they cut them open, and
removed from within a bunch of cotton or moss, the little sacred
_medicine_, which, to part with, would be to “endanger the health of
the child”—a thing that no consideration would have induced them in any
instance to have done.
My brush has been busily employed at this place, as in others; and
amongst the dignitaries that I have painted, is, first and foremost,
_Wa-nah-de-tunck-a_ (the big eagle), commonly called the “Black
Dog” (+plate+ 234). This is a very noted man, and chief of the
_O-hah-kas-ka-toh-y-an-te_ (long avenue) band.
By the side of him _Toh-to-wah-kon-da-pee_ (the blue medicine—+plate+
233), a noted medicine-man, of the Ting-tah-to-a band; with his
medicine or mystery drum, made of deer-skins; and his mystery rattles
made of antelopes’ hoofs, in his hands. This notorious old man was
professionally a doctor in his tribe, but not very distinguished, until
my friend Dr. Jarvis, who is surgeon for the post, very liberally dealt
out from the public medicine-chest, occasional “odds and ends” to him,
and with a _professional concern_ for the poor old fellow’s success,
instructed him in the modes of their application; since which, the
effects of his prescriptions have been so decided amongst his tribe,
whom he holds in ignorance of his aid in his mysterious operations;
that he has risen quite rapidly into notice, within the few last years,
in the vicinity of the Fort; where he finds it most easy to carry out
his new mode of practice, for reasons above mentioned.
In +plates+ 235 and 236, there are portraits of the two most
distinguished ball-players in the Sioux tribe, whose names
are _Ah-no-je-nahge_ (he who stands on both sides), and
_We-chush-ta-doo-ta_ (the red man). Both of these young men stood to
me for their portraits, in the dresses precisely in which they are
painted; with their ball-sticks in their hands, and in the attitudes of
the play. We have had several very spirited plays here within the few
past days; and each of these young men came from the ball-play ground
to my painting-room, in the dress in which they had just struggled in
the play.
It will be seen by these sketches, that the custom in this tribe,
differs in some respects from that of the Choctaws and other Southern
tribes, of which I have before spoken; and I there showed that they
played with a stick in each hand, when the Sioux use but one stick,
which is generally held in both hands, with a round hoop at the end, in
which the ball is caught and thrown with wonderful tact; a much more
difficult feat, I should think, than that of the Choctaws, who catch
the ball between two sticks. The tail also, in this tribe, differs,
inasmuch as it is generally made of quills, instead of white horsehair,
as described amongst the Choctaws. In other respects, the rules and
manner of the game are the same as amongst those tribes.
Several others of the _distingués_ of the tribe, I have also painted
here, and must needs refer the reader to the Museum for further
information of them.
[Illustration: 233]
[Illustration: 234]
[Illustration: 235]
[Illustration: 236]
LETTER—No. 51.
FORT SNELLING, _FALL OF ST. ANTHONY_.
The fourth of July was hailed and celebrated by us at this place, in
an unusual, and not uninteresting manner. With the presence of several
hundreds of the wildest of the Chippeways, and as many hundreds of the
Sioux; we were prepared with material in abundance for the novel—for
the wild and grotesque,—as well as for the grave and ludicrous. Major
Talliafferro, the Indian agent, to aid my views in procuring sketches
of manners and customs, represented to them that I was a great
_medicine-man_, who had visited, and witnessed the sports of, a vast
many Indians of different tribes, and had come to see whether the Sioux
and Chippeways were equal in a ball-play, &c. to their neighbours; and
that if they would come in on the _next_ day (fourth of July), and
give us a ball-play, and some of their dances, in their best style, he
would have the _big gun_ fired twenty-one times (the customary salute
for that day), which they easily construed into a high compliment to
themselves. This, with still stronger inducements, a barrel of flour—a
quantity of pork and tobacco, which I gave them, brought the scene
about on the day of independence, as follows:—About eleven o’clock (the
usual time for Indians to make their appearance on any great occasion),
the young men, who were enlisted for ball-play, made their appearance
on the ground with ball-sticks in hand—with no other dress on than the
flap, and attached to a girdle or ornamental sash, a tail, extending
nearly to the ground, made of the choicest arrangement of quills and
feathers, or of the hair of white horses’ tails. After an excited and
warmly contested play of two hours, they adjourned to a place in front
of the agent’s office, where they entertained us for two or three hours
longer, with a continued variety of their most fanciful and picturesque
dances. They gave us the _beggar’s dance_—the _buffalo-dance_—the
_bear-dance_—the _eagle-dance_—and _dance of the braves_. This last
is peculiarly beautiful, and exciting to the feelings in the highest
degree.
At intervals they stop, and one of them steps into the ring,
and vociferates as loud as possible, with the most significant
gesticulations, the feats of bravery which he has performed during
his life—he boasts of the scalps he has taken—of the enemies he has
vanquished, and at the same time carries his body through all the
motions and gestures, which have been used during these scenes when
they were transacted. At the end of his boasting, all assent to the
truth of his story, and give in their approbation by the guttural
“_waugh!_” and the dance again commences. At the next interval, another
makes his boasts, and another, and another, and so on.
During this scene, a little trick was played off in the following
manner, which produced much amusement and laughter. A woman of goodly
size, and in woman’s attire, danced into the ring (which seemed to
excite some surprise, as women are never allowed to join in the dance),
and commenced “sawing the air,” and boasting of the astonishing feats
of bravery she had performed—of the incredible number of horses she
had stolen—of the scalps she had taken, &c. &c.; until her feats
surpassed all that had ever been heard of—sufficient to put all the
warriors who had boasted, to the blush. They all gave assent, however,
to what she had said, and apparently _credence_ too; and to reward so
extraordinary a feat of female prowess, they presented to her a kettle,
a cradle, beads, ribbons, &c. After getting her presents, and placing
them safely in the hands of another matron for safe keeping, she
commenced disrobing herself; and, almost instantly divesting herself
of a loose dress, in the presence of the whole company, came out in a
_soldier’s coat_ and _pantaloons_! and laughed at them excessively for
their mistake! She then commenced dancing and making her boasts of her
exploits, assuring them that she was a man, and a great brave. They all
gave unqualified assent to this, acknowledged their error, and made her
other presents of a gun, a horse, of tobacco, and a war-club. After her
boasts were done, and the presents secured as before, she deliberately
threw off the pantaloons and coat, and presented herself at once, and
to their great astonishment and confusion, in a beautiful woman’s
dress. The tact with which she performed these parts, so uniformly
pleased, that it drew forth thundering applause from the Indians, as
well as from the spectators; and the chief stepped up and crowned
her head with a beautiful plume of the eagle’s quill, rising from a
crest of the swan’s down. My wife, who was travelling this part of the
country with me, was a spectator of these scenes, as well as the ladies
and officers of the garrison, whose polite hospitality we are at this
time enjoying.
Several days after this, the plains of St. Peters and St. Anthony,
rang with the continual sounds of drums and rattles, in time with
the thrilling yells of the dance, until it had doubly ceased to be
novelty. General Patterson, of Philadelphia, and his family arrived
about this time, however, and a dance was got up for their amusement;
and it proved to be one of an unusual kind, and interesting to all.
Considerable preparation was made for the occasion, and the Indians
informed me, that if they could get a couple of dogs that were of no
use about the garrison, they would give us their favourite, the “_dog
dance_.” The two dogs were soon produced by the officers, and in
presence of the whole assemblage of spectators, they butchered them and
placed their two hearts and livers entire and uncooked, on a couple
of crotches about as high as a man’s face (+plate+ 237). These were
then cut into strips, about an inch in width, and left hanging in
this condition, with the blood and smoke upon them. A spirited dance
then ensued; and, in a confused manner, every one sung forth his own
deeds of bravery in ejaculatory gutturals, which were almost deafening;
and they danced up, two at a time to the stakes, and after spitting
several times upon the liver and hearts, catched a piece in their
mouths, bit it off, and swallowed it. This was all done without losing
the step (which was in time to their music), or interrupting the times
of their voices.
[Illustration: 237]
Each and every one of them in this wise bit off and swallowed a piece
of the livers, until they were demolished; with the exception of the
two last pieces hanging on the stakes, which a couple of them carried
in their mouths, and communicated to the mouths of the two musicians
who swallowed them. This is one of the most valued dances amongst the
Sioux, though by no means the most beautiful or most pleasing. The
beggar’s dance, the discovery dance, and the eagle dance, are far
more graceful and agreeable. The _dog dance_ is one of _distinction_,
inasmuch as it can only be danced by those who have taken scalps from
the enemy’s heads, and come forward boasting, that they killed their
enemy in battle, and swallowed a piece of his heart in the same manner.
As the Sioux own and occupy all the country on the West bank of the
river in this vicinity; so do the Chippeways claim all lying East, from
the mouth of the Chippeway River, at the outlet of Lake Pepin, to the
source of the Mississippi; and within the month past, there have been
one thousand or more of them encamped here, on business with the Indian
agent and Sioux, with whom they have recently had some difficulty.
These two hostile foes, who have, time out of mind, been continually
at war, are now encamped here, on different sides of the Fort; and all
difficulties having been arranged by their agent, in whose presence
they have been making their speeches, for these two weeks past, have
been indulging in every sort of their amusements, uniting in their
dances, ball-plays and other games; and feasting and smoking together,
only to raise the war-cry and the tomahawk again, when they get upon
their hunting grounds.
Major Talliafferro is the Government agent for the Sioux at this place,
and furnishes the only instance probably, of a public servant on these
frontiers, who has performed the duties of his office, strictly and
faithfully, as well as kindly, for fifteen years. The Indians think
much of him, and call him Great Father, to whose advice they listen
with the greatest attention.
The encampment of the Chippeways, to which I have been a daily visitor,
was built in the manner seen in +plate+ 238; their wigwams made of
birch bark, covering the frame work, which was of slight poles stuck in
the ground, and bent over at the top, so as to give a rooflike shape to
the lodge, best calculated to ward off rain and winds.
Through this curious scene I was strolling a few days since with my
wife, and I observed the Indian women gathering around her, anxious to
shake hands with her, and shew her their children, of which she took
especial notice; and they literally filled her hands and her arms, with
_muk-kuks_ of maple sugar which they manufacture, and had brought in,
in great quantities for sale.
After the business and amusements of this great Treaty between the
Chippeways and Sioux were all over, the Chippeways struck their tents
by taking them down and rolling up their bark coverings, which, with
their bark canoes seen in the picture, turned up amongst their wigwams,
were carried to the water’s edge; and all things being packed in, men,
women, dogs, and all, were swiftly propelled by paddles to the Fall of
St. Anthony, where we had repaired to witness their mode of passing the
cataract, by “_making_ (as it is called) _the portage_,” which we found
to be a very curious scene; and was done by running all their canoes
into an eddy below the Fall, and as near as they could get by paddling;
when all were landed, and every thing taken out of the canoes (+plate+
239), and with them carried by the women, around the Fall, and half a
mile or so above, where the canoes were put into the water again; and
goods and chattels being loaded in, and all hands seated, the paddles
were again put to work, and the light and bounding crafts upon their
voyage.
The bark canoe of the Chippeways is, perhaps, the most beautiful and
light model of all the water crafts that ever were invented. They
are generally made complete with the rind of one birch tree, and so
ingeniously shaped and sewed together, with roots of the tamarack,
which they call _wat-tap_, that they are water-tight, and ride upon
the water, as light as a cork. They gracefully lean and dodge about,
under the skilful balance of an Indian, or the ugliest squaw; but
like everything wild, are timid and treacherous under the guidance of
white man; and, if he be not an experienced equilibrist, he is sure
to get two or three times soused, in his first endeavours at familiar
acquaintance with them. In +plate+ 240, letter _a_, the reader will see
two specimens of these canoes correctly drawn; where he can contrast
them and their shapes, with the log canoe, letter _b_, (or “dug out,”
as it is often called in the Western regions) of the Sioux, and many
other tribes; which is dug out of a solid log, with great labour, by
these ignorant people, who have but few tools to work with.
In the same plate, letter _c_, I have also introduced the skin canoes
of the Mandans, (of the Upper Missouri, of whom I have spoken in Volume
I), which are made almost round like a tub, by straining a buffalo’s
skin over a frame of wicker work, made of willow or other boughs. The
woman in paddling these awkward tubs, stands in the bow, and makes
the stroke with the paddle, by reaching it forward in the water and
drawing it to her, by which means she pulls the canoe along with some
considerable speed. These very curious and rudely constructed canoes,
are made in the form of the _Welsh coracle_; and, if I mistake not,
propelled in the same manner, which is a very curious circumstance;
inasmuch as they are found in the heart of the great wilderness
of America, when all the other surrounding tribes construct their
canoes in decidedly different forms, and of different materials.
[Illustration: 238]
[Illustration: 239]
[Illustration: 240]
[Illustration: 241]
[Illustration: 242]
In the same plate, letter _d_, is a pair of Sioux (and in letter _e_,
of Chippeway) _snow shoes_, which are used in the deep snows of the
winter, under the Indians’ feet, to buoy him up as he runs in pursuit
of his game. The hoops or frames of these are made of elastic wood, and
the webbing, of strings of rawhide, which form such a resistance to the
snow, as to carry them over without sinking into it; and enabling them
to come up with their game, which is wallowing through the drifts, and
easily overtaken; as in the buffalo hunt, in +plate+ 109, Volume I.
Of the portraits of chiefs and others I have painted amongst the
Chippeways at this place, two distinguished young men will be seen
in +plates+ 241, 242. The first by the name of _Ka-bes-kunk_ (he
who travels everywhere), the other, _Ka-be-mub-be_ (he who sits
everywhere), both painted at full length, in full dress, and just as
they were adorned and equipped, even to a quill and a trinket.
The first of these two young men is, no doubt, one of the most
remarkable of his age to be found in the tribe. Whilst he was standing
for his portrait, which was in one of the officer’s quarters in the
Fort, where there were some ten or fifteen of his enemies the Sioux,
seated on the floor around the room; he told me to take particular
pains in representing eight quills which were arranged in his
head-dress, which he said stood for so many Sioux scalps that he had
taken with his left hand, in which he was grasping his war-club, with
which hand he told me he was in the habit of making all his blows.
In +plate+ 244, is the portrait of a warrior by the name of _Ot-ta-wa_
(the otaway), ———— with his pipe in his hand; and in +plate+ 245,
the portrait of a Chippeway woman, _Ju-ah-kis-gaw_, with her child
in its crib or cradle. In a former Letter I gave a minute account
of the Sioux cradle, and here the reader sees the very similar mode
amongst the Chippeways; and as in all instances that can be found, the
_ni-ahkust-ahg_ (or umbilicus) hanging before the child’s face for its
supernatural protector.
This woman’s dress was mostly made of civilized manufactures, but
curiously decorated and ornamented according to Indian taste.
Many were the dances given to me on different places, of which I may
make further use and further mention on future occasions: but of which
I shall name but one at present, the _snow-shoe dance_ (+plate+ 243),
which is exceedingly picturesque, being danced with the snow shoes
under the feet, at the falling of the first snow in the beginning of
winter; when they sing a song of thanksgiving to the Great Spirit for
sending them a return of snow, when they can run on their snow shoes in
their valued hunts and easily take the game for their food.
About this lovely spot I have whiled away a few months with great
pleasure, and having visited all the curiosities, and all the different
villages of Indians in the vicinity, I close my note-book and start in
a few days for Prairie du Chien, which is 300 miles below this; where I
shall have new subjects for my brush and new themes for my pen, when I
may continue my epistles. Adieu.
[Illustration: 243]
[Illustration: 244 245]
LETTER—No. 52.
CAMP DES MOINES.
Soon after the date of my last Letter, written at St. Peters, having
placed my wife on board of the steamer, with a party of ladies, for
Prairie du Chien, I embarked in a light bark canoe, on my homeward
course, with only one companion, Corporal Allen, from the garrison;
a young man of considerable taste, who thought he could relish the
transient scenes of a voyage in company with a painter, having gained
the indulgence of Major Bliss, the commanding officer, with permission
to accompany me.
With stores laid in for a ten days’ voyage, and armed for any
emergency—with sketch-book and colours prepared, we shoved off and
swiftly glided away with paddles nimbly plied, resolved to see and
relish every thing curious or beautiful that fell in our way. We
lingered along, among the scenes of grandeur which presented themselves
amid the thousand bluffs, and arrived at Prairie du Chien in about
ten days, in good plight, without accident or incident of a thrilling
nature, with the exception of one instance which happened about thirty
miles below St. Peters, and on the first day of our journey. In the
after part of the day, we discovered three lodges of Sioux Indians
encamped on the bank, all hallooing and waving their blankets for us
to come in, to the shore. We had no business with them, and resolved
to keep on our course, when one of them ran into his lodge, and coming
out with his gun in his hand, levelled it at us, and gave us a charge
of buck-shot about our ears. One of them struck in my canoe, passing
through several folds of my cloak, which was folded, and lying just in
front of my knee, and several others struck so near on each side as
to spatter the water into our faces. There was no fun in this, and I
then ran my canoe to the shore as fast as possible—they all ran, men,
women, and children, to the water’s edge, meeting us with yells and
laughter as we landed. As the canoe struck the shore, I rose violently
from my seat, and throwing all the infuriated demon I could into my
face—thrusting my pistols into my belt—a half dozen bullets into my
mouth—and my double-barrelled gun in my hand—I leaped ashore and chased
the lot of them from the beach, throwing myself, by a nearer route,
between them and their wigwams, where I kept them for some time at a
stand, with my barrels presented, and threats (corroborated with looks
which they could not misunderstand) that I would annihilate the whole
of them in a minute. As the gun had been returned to the lodge, and the
man who fired it could not be identified, the rascal’s life was thereby
probably prolonged. We stood for some time in this position, and no
explanation could be made, other than that which could be read from the
lip and the brow, a language which is the same, and read alike, among
all nations. I slipped my sketch-book and pencil into my hand, and
under the muzzle of my gun, each fellow stood for his likeness, which I
made them understand, by signs, were to be sent to “Muzzabucksa” (iron
cutter), the name they gave to Major Talliafferro, their agent at St.
Peters.
This threat, and the continued vociferation of the corporal from the
canoe, that I was a “Grande Capitaine,” seemed considerably to alarm
them. I at length gradually drew myself off, but with a lingering eye
upon the sneaking rascals, who stood in sullen silence, with one eye
upon me, and the other upon the corporal; who I found had held them at
bay from the bow of his canoe, with his musket-levelled upon them—his
bayonet fixed—his cartouch box slung, with one eye in full blaze over
the barrel, and the other drawn down within two parts of an inch of the
upper corner of his mouth. At my approach, his muscles were gradually
(but somewhat reluctantly) relaxed. We seated ourselves, and quietly
dipped our paddles again on our way.
Some allowance must be made for this outrage, and many others that
could be named, that have taken place amongst that part of the Sioux
nation; they have been for many years past made drunkards, by the
solicitations of white men, and then abused, and their families also;
for which, when they are drunk (as in the present instance), they
are often ready, and disposed to retaliate and to return insult for
injuries.
We went on peaceably and pleasantly during the rest of our voyage,
having ducks, deer, and bass for our game and our food; our bed was
generally on the grass at the foot of some towering bluff, where, in
the melancholy stillness of night, we were lulled to sleep by the
liquid notes of the whip-poor-will; and after his warbling ceased,
roused by the mournful complaints of the starving wolf, or _surprised_
by the startling interrogation, “who! who! who!” by the winged monarch
of the dark.
There is a something that fills and feeds the mind of an enthusiastic
man, when he is thrown upon natural resources, amidst the rude
untouched scenes of nature, which cannot be described; and I leave the
world to imagine the feelings of pleasure with which I found myself
again out of the din of artful life, among scenes of grandeur worthy
the whole soul’s devotion, and admiration.
When the morning’s dew was shaken off, our coffee enjoyed—our light
bark again launched upon the water, and the chill of the morning
banished by the quick stroke of the paddle, and the busy chaunt of
the corporal’s boat-song, our ears and our eyes were open to the rude
scenes of romance that were about us—our light boat ran to every
ledge—dodged into every slough or “_cut-off_” to be seen—every mineral
was examined—every cave explored—and almost every bluff of grandeur
ascended to the top. These towering edifices of nature, which will
stand the admiration of thousands and tens of thousands, unchanged
and unchangeable, though grand and majestic to the eye of the passing
traveller, will be found to inspire new ideas of magnitude when
attempted to be travelled to the top. From the tops of many of them I
have sketched for the information of the world, and for the benefit
of those who travel much, I would recommend a trip to the Summit of
“Pike’s Tent” (the highest bluff on the river), 100 miles above Prairie
du Chien; to the top also of “La Montaigne qui tromps a l’eau”—the
summit of Bad Axe Mountain—and a look over Lake Pepin’s turretted
shores from the top of the bluff opposite to the “Lover’s Leap,” being
the highest on the lake, and the point from which the greater part of
its shores can be seen.
[Illustration: 248]
[Illustration: 249]
Along the shores of this beautiful lake we lingered for several days,
and our canoe was hauled a hundred times upon the pebbly beach, where
we spent hours and days, robbing it of its precious gems, which are
thrown up by the waves. We found many rich agates, carnelians, jaspers,
and porphyrys. The agates are many of them peculiarly beautiful, most
of them water-waved—their colours brilliant and beautifully striated.
“Point aux Sables” has been considered the most productive part of
the lake for these gems; but owing to the frequent landings of the
steam-boats and other craft on that point, the best specimens of them
have been picked up; and the traveller will now be best remunerated for
his trouble, by tracing the shore around into some of its coves, or on
some of its points less frequented by the footsteps of man.
The _Lover’s Leap_ (+plate+ 248), is a bold and projecting rock, of
six or seven hundred feet elevation on the East side of the lake, from
the summit of which, it is said, a beautiful Indian girl, the daughter
of a chief, threw herself off in presence of her tribe, some fifty
years ago, and dashed herself to pieces, to avoid being married to a
man whom her father had decided to be her husband, and whom she would
not marry. On our way, after we had left the beautiful shores of Lake
Pepin, we passed the magnificent bluff called “_Pike’s Tent_” (+plate+
249), and undoubtedly, the highest eminence on the river, running up in
the form of a tent; from which circumstance, and that of having first
been ascended by Lieutenant Pike, it has taken the name of Pike’s Tent,
which it will, doubtless, for ever retain.
The corporal and I run our little craft to the base of this stupendous
pyramid, and spent half a day about its sides and its pinnacle,
admiring the lovely and almost boundless landscape that lies beneath it.
To the top of this grass-covered mound I would advise every traveller
in the country, who has the leisure to do it, and sinew enough in his
leg, to stroll awhile, and enjoy what it may be difficult for him to
see elsewhere.
“_Cap au l’ail_” (Garlic Cape, +plate+ 250), about twenty miles above
Prairie du Chien is another beautiful scene—and the “Cornice Rocks”
(+plate+ 251), on the West bank, where my little bark rested two days,
till the corporal and I had taken bass from every nook and eddy about
them, where our hooks could be dipped. To the lover of fine fish, and
fine sport in fishing, I would recommend an encampment for a few days
on this picturesque ledge, where his appetite and his passion will be
soon gratified.
Besides these picturesque scenes, I made drawings also of all the
Indian villages on the way, and of many other interesting points, which
are curious in my Collection, but too numerous to introduce in this
place.
In the midst, or half-way of Lake Pepin, which is an expansion of the
river of four or five miles in width, and twenty-five miles in length,
the corporal and I hauled our canoe out upon the beach of Point aux
Sables, where we spent a couple of days, feasting on plums and fine
fish and wild fowl, and filling our pockets with agates and carnelians
we were picking up along the pebbly beach; and at last, started on
our way for the outlet of the lake, with a fair North West wind,
which wafted us along in a delightful manner, as I sat in the stern
and steered, while the corporal was “catching the breeze” in a large
umbrella, which he spread open and held in the bow. We went merrily
and exultingly on in this manner, until at length the wind increased
to anything but a gale; and the waves were foaming white, and dashing
on the shores where we could not land without our frail bark being
broken to pieces. We soon became alarmed, and saw that our only safety
was in keeping on the course that we were running at a rapid rate, and
that with our sail full set, to brace up and steady our boat on the
waves, while we kept within swimming distance of the shore, resolved
to run into the first cove, or around the first point we could find
for our protection. We kept at an equal distance from the shore—and in
this most critical condition, the wind drove us ten or fifteen miles,
without a landing-place, till we exultingly steered into the mouth of
the Chippeway river, at the outlet of the lake, where we soon found
quiet and safety; but found our canoe in a sinking condition, being
half full of water, and having three of the five of her beams or braces
broken out, with which serious disasters, a few rods more of the fuss
and confusion would have sent us to the bottom. We here laid by part
of a day, and having repaired our disasters, wended our way again
pleasantly and successfully on.
At Prairie du Chien, which is near the mouth of the Ouisconsin River,
and 600 miles above St. Louis, where we safely landed my canoe, I
found my wife enjoying the hospitality of Mrs. Judge Lockwood, who had
been a schoolmate of mine in our childhood, and is now residing with
her interesting family in that place. Under her hospitable roof we
spent a few weeks with great satisfaction, after which my wife took
steamer for Dubuque, and I took to my little bark canoe alone (having
taken leave of the corporal), which I paddled to this place, quite
leisurely—cooking my own meat, and having my own fun as I passed along.
Prairie du Chien (+plate+ 253) has been one of the earliest and
principal trading posts of the Fur Company, and they now have a
large establishment at that place; but doing far less business than
formerly, owing to the great mortality of the Indians in its vicinity,
and the destruction of the game, which has almost entirely disappeared
in these regions. The prairie is a beautiful elevation above the
river, of several miles in length, and a mile or so in width, with a
most picturesque range of grassy bluffs encompassing it in the rear.
The Government have erected there a substantial Fort, in which are
generally stationed three or four companies of men, for the purpose (as
at the Fall of St. Anthony) of keeping the peace amongst the hostile
tribes, and also of protecting the frontier inhabitants from the
attacks of the excited savages. There are on the prairie some forty
or fifty families, mostly French, and some half-breeds, whose lives
have been chiefly spent in the arduous and hazardous occupations of
trappers, and traders, and voyageurs; which has well qualified them for
the modes of dealing with Indians, where they have settled down and
stand ready to compete with one another for their shares of annuities,
&c. which are dealt out to the different tribes who concentrate at that
place, and are easily drawn from the poor Indians’ hands by whiskey and
useless gewgaws.
[Illustration: 250]
[Illustration: 251]
[Illustration: 253]
The consequence of this system is, that there is about that place,
almost one continual scene of wretchedness, and drunkenness, and
disease amongst the Indians, who come there to trade and to receive
their annuities, that disgusts and sickens the heart of every stranger
that extends his travels to it.
When I was there, Wa-be-sha’s band of the Sioux came there, and
remained several weeks to get their annuities, which, when they
received them, fell (as they always will do), far short of paying off
the account, which the Traders take good care to have standing against
them for goods furnished them on a year’s credit. However, whether
they pay off or not, they can always get whiskey enough for a grand
carouse and a brawl, which lasts for a week or two, and almost sure to
terminate the lives of some of their numbers.
At the end of one of these a few days since, after the men had enjoyed
their surfeit of whiskey, and wanted a little more amusement, and felt
disposed to indulge the weaker sex in a little recreation also; it was
announced amongst them, and through the village, that the women were
going to have a ball-play!
For this purpose the men, in their very liberal trades they were making
and filling their canoes with goods delivered to them on a year’s
credit, laid out a great quantity of ribbons and calicoes, with other
presents well adapted to the wants and desires of the women; which were
hung on a pole resting on crotches, and guarded by an old man, who was
to be judge and umpire of the play which was to take place amongst
the women, who were divided into two equal parties, and were to play
a desperate game of ball, for the valuable stakes that were hanging
before them (+plate+ 252).
In the ball-play of the women, they have two balls attached to the ends
of a string, about a foot and a half long; and each woman has a short
stick in each hand, on which she catches the string with the two balls,
and throws them, endeavouring to force them over the goal of her own
party. The men are more than half drunk, when they feel liberal enough
to indulge the women in such an amusement; and take infinite pleasure
in rolling about on the ground and laughing to excess, whilst the women
are tumbling about in all attitudes, and scuffling for the ball. The
game of “_hunt the slipper_,” even, loses its zest after witnessing one
of these, which sometimes last for hours together; and often exhibits
the hottest contest for the balls, exactly over the heads of the men;
who, half from whiskey, and half from inclination, are laying in groups
and flat upon the ground.
Prairie du Chien is the concentrating place of the Winnebagoes and
Menomonies, who inhabit the waters of the Ouisconsin and Fox Rivers,
and the chief part of the country lying East of the Mississippi, and
West of Green Bay.
The _Winnebagoes_ are the remnant of a once powerful and warlike tribe,
but are now left in a country where they have neither beasts or men
to war with; and are in a most miserable and impoverished condition.
The numbers of this tribe do not exceed four thousand; and the most of
them have sold even their guns and ammunition for whiskey. Like the
Sioux and Menomonies that come in to this post, they have several times
suffered severely with the small-pox, which has in fact destroyed the
greater proportion of them.
In +plate+ 254, will be seen the portrait of an old chief, who died
a few years since; and who was for many years the head chief of
the tribe, by the name of _Naw-kaw_ (wood). This man has been much
distinguished in his time, for his eloquence; and he desired me to
paint him in the attitude of an orator, addressing his people.
+Plate+ 255, is a distinguished man of the Winnebago tribe, by the name
of _Wah-chee-hahs-ka_ (the man who puts all out of doors), commonly
called the “boxer.” The largest man of the tribe, with rattlesnakes’
skins on his arms, and his war-club in his hand.[20]
In +plate+ 256 is seen a warrior, _Kaw-kaw-ne-choo-a_; and in +plate+
257 another, Wa-kon-zee-kaw (the snake), both at full length; and fair
specimens of the tribe, who are generally a rather short and thick-set,
square shouldered set of men, of great strength, and of decided
character as brave and desperate in war.
Besides the chief and warriors above-named, I painted the portraits of
_Won-de-tow-a_ (the wonder), _Wa-kon-chash-kaw_ (he who comes on the
thunder), _Nau-naw-pay-ee_ (the soldier), _Span-e-o-nee-kaw_
(the Spaniard), _Hoo-wan-ee-kaw_ (the little elk), _No-ah-choo-she-kaw_
(he who breaks the bushes), and _Naugh-haigh-ke-kaw_ (he who moistens
the wood), all distinguished men of the tribe; and all at full length,
as they will be seen standing in my Collection.
[Illustration: 252]
[Illustration: 255]
[Illustration: 254]
[Illustration: 256]
[Illustration: 257]
[Illustration: 258 259]
[Illustration: 260 261]
+The MENOMONIES,+
Like the Winnebagoes, are the remnant of a much more numerous and
independent tribe, but have been reduced and enervated by the use of
whiskey and the ravages of the small-pox, and number at this time,
something like three thousand, living chiefly on the banks of Fox
River, and the Western shore of Green Bay. They visit Prairie du Chien,
where their annuities are paid them; and they indulge in the _bane_,
like the tribes that I have mentioned.
Of this tribe, I have painted quite a number of their leading
characters, and at the head of them all, _Mah-kee-me-teuv_ (the grizzly
bear, +plate+ 258), with a handsome pipe in his hand; and by the side
of him his wife _Me-cheet-e-neuh_ (the wounded bear’s shoulder, +plate+
259). Both of these have died since their portraits were painted. This
dignified chief led a delegation of fifteen of his people to Washington
City, some years since, and there commanded great respect for his
eloquence, and dignity of deportment.
In +plate+ 260 is the portrait of _Chee-me-na-na-quet_ (the great
cloud), son of the chief—an ill-natured and insolent fellow who has
since been killed for some of his murderous deeds. +Plate+ 261, is the
portrait of a fine boy, whose name is _Tcha-kauks-o-ko-maugh_ (the
great chief). This tribe living out of the reach of buffaloes, cover
themselves with blankets, instead of robes, and wear a profusion of
beads and wampum, and other trinkets.
In +plate+ 262, is_Coo-coo-coo_ (the owl), a very aged and emaciated
chief, whom I painted at Green Bay, in Fort Howard. He had been a
distinguished man, but now in his dotage, being more than 100 years
old—and a great pet of the surgeon and officers of the post.
In +plate+ 263, are two Menominee youths at full length, in beautiful
dresses, whose names I did not get—one with his war-club in his hand,
and the other blowing on his “courting flute,” which I have before
described.
In addition to these I have painted of this tribe, and placed in
my Collection, the portraits of _Ko-man-i-kin-o-shaw_ (the little
whale); _Sha-wa-no_ (the South); _Mash-kee-wet_ (the thought);
_Pah-shee-nau-shaw_ (————); _Au-nah-quet-o-hau-pay-o_ (the one sitting
in the clouds); _Auh-ka-na-paw-wah_ (earth standing); _Ko-man-ni-kin_
(the big wave); _O-ho-pa-sha_ (the small whoop); _Au-wah-shew-kew_ (the
female bear); and _Chesh-ko-tong_ (he who sings the war-song).
It will be seen by the reader, from the above facts, that I have been
laying up much curious and valuable record of people and customs in
these regions; and it will be seen at the same time, from the brief
manner in which I have treated of these semi-civilized tribes, which
every body can see, and thousands have seen, that my enthusiasm, as
I have before explained, has led me more into minuteness and detail
amongst those tribes which are living in their unchanged native modes,
whose customs I have been ambitious to preserve for ages to come,
before the changes that civilized acquaintance will soon work upon them.
The materials which I am daily gathering, however, are interesting;
and I may on a future occasion use them—but in an epistle of this
kind, there is not room for the incidents of a long voyage, or for a
minute description of the country and the people in it; so, what I
have said must suffice for the present. I lingered along the shores
of this magnificent river then, in my fragile bark, to Prairie du
Chien—Dubuque—Galena, to Rock Island, and lastly to this place.
During such a Tour between the almost endless banks, carpeted with
green, with one of the richest countries in the world, extending back
in every direction, the mind of a contemplative man is continually
building for posterity splendid seats, cities, towers and villas, which
a few years of rolling time will bring about, with new institutions,
new states, and almost empires; for it would seem that this vast region
of rich soil and green fields, was almost enough for a world of itself.
I hauled my canoe out of the water at Dubuque, where I joined my wife
again in the society of kind and hospitable friends, and found myself
amply repaid for a couple of weeks’ time spent in the examination
of the extensive lead mines; walking and creeping through caverns,
some eighty or one hundred feet below the earth’s surface, decked in
nature’s pure livery of stalactites and spar—with walls, and sometimes
ceilings, of glistening massive lead. And I hold yet (and ever shall)
in my mind, without loss of a fraction of feature or expression, the
image of one of my companions, and the scene that at one time was
about him. His name is Jeffries. We were in “Lockwood’s Cave,” my wife
and another lady were behind, and he advancing before me; _his_ ribs,
more elastic, than mine, gave him entrance through a crevice, into a
chamber yet unexplored; he dared the pool, for there was one of icy
water, and translucent as the air itself. We stood luckless spectators,
to gaze and envy, while he advanced. The lighted flambeau in his hand
brought the splendid furniture of this tesselated palace into view;
the surface of the jostled pool laved his sides as he advanced, and
the rich stalagmites that grew up from the bottom reflected a golden
light through the water, while the walls and ceiling were hung with
stalactites which glittered like diamonds.
In this wise he stood in silent gaze, in awe and admiration of the
hidden works of Nature; his figure, as high as the surface of the
water, was magnified into a giant—and his head and shoulders not unfit
for a cyclop. In fact, he was a perfect figure of Vulcan. The water in
which he stood was a lake of liquid fire—he held a huge hammer in
his right hand, and a flaming thunderbolt in his left, which he had
just forged for Jupiter. There was but one thing wanting, it was the
“sound of the hammer!” which was soon given in peals upon the beautiful
pendents of stalactite and spar, which sent back and through the
cavern, the hollow tones of thunder.
[Illustration: 262]
[Illustration: 263]
A visit of a few days to Dubuque will be worth the while of every
traveller; and for the speculator and man of enterprize, it affords the
finest field now open in our country. It is a small town of 200 houses,
built entirely within the last two years, on one of the most delightful
sites on the river, and in the heart of the richest and most productive
parts of the mining region; having this advantage over most other
mining countries, that immediately over the richest (and in fact all)
of the lead mines; the land on the surface produces the finest corn,
and all other vegetables that may be put into it. This is certainly the
richest section of country on the Continent, and those who live a few
years to witness the result, will be ready to sanction my assertion,
that it is to be the _mint of our country_.
From Dubuque, I descended the river on a steamer, with my bark canoe
laid on its deck, and my wife was my companion, to Camp Des Moines,
from whence I am now writing.
After arriving at this place, which is the wintering post of Colonel
Kearney, with his three companies of dragoons, I seated my wife and two
gentlemen of my intimate acquaintance, in my bark canoe, and paddled
them through the Des Moine’s Rapids, a distance of fourteen miles,
which we performed in a very short time; and at the foot of the Rapids,
placed my wife on the steamer for St. Louis, in company with friends,
when I had some weeks to return on my track, and revert back again to
the wild and romantic life that I occasionally love to lead. I returned
to Camp Des Moines, and in a few days joined General Street, the Indian
Agent, in a Tour to Ke-o-kuck’s village of Sacs and Foxes.
Colonel Kearney gave us a corporal’s command of eight men, with
horses, &c. for the journey; and we reached the village in two days’
travel, about sixty miles up the Des Moines. The whole country that we
passed over was like a garden, wanting only cultivation, being mostly
prairie, and we found their village beautifully situated on a large
prairie, on the bank of the Des Moines River. They seemed to be well
supplied with the necessaries of life, and with some of its luxuries.
I found Ke-o-kuck to be a chief of fine and portly figure, with a good
countenance, and great dignity and grace in his manners.
General Street had some documents from Washington, to read to him,
which he and his chiefs listened to with great patience; after which
he placed before us good brandy and good wine, and invited us to
drink, and to lodge with him; he then called up five of his _runners_
or _criers_, communicated to them in a low, but emphatic tone, the
substance of the talk from the agent, and of the letters read to him,
and they started at full gallop— one of them proclaiming it through
his village, and the others sent express to the other villages,
comprising the whole nation. Ke-o-kuck came in with us, with about
twenty of his principal men—he brought in all his costly wardrobe, that
I might select for his portrait such as suited me best; but at once
named (of his own accord) the one that was purely Indian. In that he
paraded for several days, and in it I painted him at full length. He is
a man of a great deal of pride, and makes truly a splendid appearance
on his black horse. He owns the finest horse in the country, and is
excessively vain of his appearance when mounted, and arrayed, himself
and horse, in all their gear and trappings. He expressed a wish to see
himself represented on horseback, and I painted him in that light. He
rode and nettled his prancing steed in front of my door, until its
sides were in a gore of blood. I succeeded to _his_ satisfaction, and
his vanity is increased, no doubt, by seeing himself immortalized
in that way. After finishing him, I painted his favourite wife (the
favoured one of seven), his favourite boy, and eight or ten of his
principal men and women; after which, he and all his men shook hands
with me, wishing me well, and leaving, as tokens of regard, the most
valued article of his dress, and a beautiful string of wampum, which he
took from his wife’s neck.
They then departed for their village in good spirits, to prepare for
their _fall hunt_.
Of this interesting interview and its incidents, and of these people,
I shall soon give the reader a further account, and therefore close my
note-book for the present. Adieu.
[20] This man died of the small-pox the next summer after this
portrait was painted. Whilst the small-pox was raging so bad at
the Prairie, he took the disease, and in a rage plunged into the
river, and swam across to the island where he dragged his body out
upon the beach, and there died, and his bones were picked by dogs,
without any friend to give him burial.
LETTER—No. 53.
SAINT LOUIS.
It will be seen by the heading of this Letter that I am back again to
“head-quarters,” where I have joined my wife, and being seated down by
a comfortable fire, am to take a little retrospect of my rambles, from
the time of my last epistle.
The return to the society of old friends again, has been delightful,
and amongst those whom I more than esteem, I have met my kind and
faithful friend Joe Chadwick, whom I have often mentioned, as my
companion in distress whilst on that disastrous campaign amongst the
Camanchees. Joe and I have taken great pleasure in talking over the
many curious scenes we have passed together, many of which are as yet
unknown to others than ourselves. We had been separated for nearly two
years, and during that time I had passed many curious scenes worthy
of Joe’s knowing, and while he sat down in the chair for a portrait I
painted of him to send to his mother, on leaving the States, to take an
appointment from Governor Houston in the Texan army; I related to him
one or two of my recent _incidents_, which were as follow, and pleased
Joe exceedingly;—
“After I had paddled my bark canoe through the rapids, with my wife and
others in it, as I mentioned, and had put them on board a steamer for
St. Louis, I dragged my canoe up the east shore of the rapids, with a
line, for a distance of four miles, when I stopped and spent half of
the day in collecting some very interesting minerals, which I had in
the bottom of my canoe, and ready to get on the first steamer passing
up, to take me again to Camp Des Moines, at the head of the rapids.
“I was sitting on a wild and wooded shore, and waiting, when I at
length discovered a steamer several miles below me, advancing through
the rapids, and in the interim I set too and cleaned my fowling piece
and a noble pair of pistols, which I had carried in a belt at my side,
through my buffalo and other sports of the West, and having put them
in fine order and deposited them in the bottom of the canoe before me,
and taken my paddle in hand, with which my long practice had given
me unlimited confidence, I put off from the shore to the middle of
the river, which was there a mile and a halt in width, to meet the
steamer, which was stemming the opposing torrent, and slowly moving
up the rapids. I made my signal as I neared the steamer, and desired
my old friend Captain Rogers, not to stop his engine; feeling full
confidence that I could, with an _Indian touch_ of the paddle, toss
my little bark around, and gently grapple to the side of the steamer,
which was loaded down, with her gunnels near to the water’s edge. Oh,
that my skill had been equal to my imagination, or that I could have
had at that moment, the balance and the skill of an Indian _woman_,
for the sake of my little craft and what was in it! I had _brought it
about_, with a master hand, however, but the waves of the rapids and
the foaming of the waters by her sides were too much for my peaceable
adhesion, and at the moment of wheeling, to part company with her, a
line, with a sort of “laso throw,” came from an awkward hand on the
deck, and falling over my shoulder and around the end of my canoe, with
a simultaneous “haul” to it, sent me down head foremost to the bottom
of the river; where I was tumbling along with the rapid current over
the huge rocks on the bottom, whilst my gun and pistols, which were
emptied from my capsised boat, were taking their permanent position
amongst the rocks; and my trunk, containing my notes of travel for
several years, and many other valuable things, was floating off upon
the surface. If I had drowned, my death would have been witnessed by
at least an hundred ladies and gentlemen who were looking on, but I
_did not_.—I soon took a peep, by the side of my trunk &c., above the
water, and for the first time in my life was “collared,” and that by
my friend Captain Rogers, who undoubtedly saved me from making further
explorations on the river bottom, by pulling me into the boat, to the
amusement of all on deck, many of whom were my old acquaintance, and
not knowing the preliminaries, were as much astounded at my sudden
appearance, as if I had been disgorged from a whale’s belly. A small
boat was sent off for my trunk, which was picked up about half a mile
below and brought on board full of water, and consequently, clothes,
and sketch-books and everything else entirely wet through. My canoe
was brought on board, which was several degrees dearer to me now than
it had been for its long and faithful service; but my gun and pistols
are there yet, and at the service of the lucky one who may find them.
I remained on board for several miles, till we were passing a wild and
romantic rocky shore, on which the sun was shining warm, and I launched
my little boat into the water, with my trunk in it and put off to the
shore, where I soon had every paper and a hundred other things spread
in the sun, and at night in good order for my camp, which was at the
mouth of a quiet little brook, where I caught some fine bass and fared
well, till a couple of hours paddling the next morning brought me back
to Camp Des Moines.”
Here my friend Joe laughed excessively, but said not a word, as I
kept on painting—and told him also, that a few days after this, I
put my little canoe on the deck of a steamer ascending the river,
and landed at Rock Island, ninety miles above, on some business with
General Street, the Indian Agent—after which I “put off” in my little
bark, descending the river alone, to Camp Des Moines, with a fine
double-barrelled fowling-piece, which I had purchased at the garrison,
lying in the canoe before me as the means of procuring wild fowl, and
other food on my passage. “Egad!” said Joe, “how I should like to have
been with you!” “Sit still,” said I, “or I shall lose your likeness.”
So Joe kept his position, and I proceeded.
“I left Rock Island about eleven o’clock in the morning, and at
half-past three in a pleasant afternoon, in the cool month of October,
run my canoe to the shore of _Mas-co-tin_ Island, where I stepped out
upon its beautiful pebbly beach, with my paddle in my hand, having
drawn the bow of my canoe, as usual, on to the beach, so as to hold
it in its place. This beautiful island, so called from a band of the
Illinois Indians of that name, who once dwelt upon it, is twenty-five
or thirty miles in length, without habitation on or in sight of it,
and the whole way one extended and lovely prairie; with high banks
fronting the river, and extending back a great way, covered with a
high and luxuriant growth of grass. To the top of this bank I went
with my paddle in my hand, quite innocently, just to range my eye over
its surface, and to see what might be seen; when, in a minute or two,
I turned towards the river, and, to my almost annihilating surprise
and vexation, I saw my little canoe some twenty or thirty rods from
the shore, and some distance below me, with its head aiming across
the river, and steadily gliding along in that direction, where the
wind was roguishly wafting it! What little swearing I had learned in
the whole of my dealings with the _civilized_ world, seemed then to
concentrate in two or three involuntary exclamations, which exploded
as I was running down the beach, and throwing off my garments one
after the other, till I was denuded—and dashing through the deep
and boiling current in pursuit of it, I swam some thirty rods in a
desperate rage, resolving that this _must be_ my remedy, as there
was no other mode; but at last found, to my great mortification and
_alarm_, that the canoe, having got so far from the shore, was more
in the wind, and travelling at a speed quite equal to my own; so that
the only safe alternative was to turn and make for the shore with
all possible despatch. This I did—and had but just strength to bring
me where my feet could reach the bottom, and I waded out with the
appalling conviction, that if I had swam one rod farther into the
stream, my strength would never have brought me to the shore; for it
was in the fall of the year, and the water so cold as completely to
have benumbed me, and paralyzed my limbs. I hastened to pick up my
clothes, which were dropped at intervals as I had run on the beach, and
having adjusted them on my shivering limbs, I stepped to the top of the
bank, and took a deliberate view of my little canoe, which was steadily
making its way to the other shore—with my gun, with my provisions and
fire apparatus, and sleeping apparel, all snugly packed in it.
“The river at that place is near a mile wide; and I watched the
mischievous thing till it ran quite into a bunch of willows on the
opposite shore, and out of sight. I walked the shore awhile, alone and
solitary as a Zealand penguin, when I at last sat down, and in one
minute passed the following resolves from premises that were before
me, and too imperative to be evaded or unappreciated ‘I am here on a
desolate island, with nothing to eat, and destitute of the means of
procuring anything; and if I pass the night, or half a dozen of them
here, I shall have neither fire or clothes to make me comfortable;
and nothing short of _having my canoe_ will answer me at all.’ For
this, the only alternative struck me, and I soon commenced upon it. An
occasional log or limb of drift wood was seen along the beach and under
the bank, and these I commenced bringing together from all quarters,
and some I had to lug half a mile or more, to form a raft to float
me up and carry me across the river. As there was a great scarcity
of materials, and I had no hatchet to cut anything; I had to use my
scanty materials of all lengths and of all sizes and all shapes, and
at length ventured upon the motley mass, with paddle in hand, and
carefully shoved it off from the shore, finding it just sufficient to
float me up. I took a seat in its centre on a bunch of barks which I
had placed for a seat, and which, when I started, kept me a few inches
above the water, and consequently dry, whilst my feet were resting on
the raft, which in most parts was sunk a little below the surface. The
only alternative was _to go_, for there was no more timber to be found;
so I balanced myself in the middle, and by reaching forward with my
paddle, to a little space between the timbers of my raft, I had a small
place to dip it, and the only one, in which I could make but a feeble
stroke—propelling me at a very slow rate _across_, as I was floating
rapidly _down_ the current. I sat still and worked patiently, however,
content with the little gain; and at last reached the opposite shore
about three miles below the place of my embarkation; having passed
close by several huge snags, which I was lucky enough to escape,
without the power of having cleared them except by kind accident.
“My craft was ‘unseaworthy’ when I started, and when I had got to the
middle of the river, owing to the rotten wood, with which a great part
of it was made, and which had now become saturated with water, it had
sunk entirely under the surface, letting me down nearly to the waist,
in the water. In this critical way I moved slowly along, keeping the
sticks together under me; and at last, when I reached the shore, some
of the long and awkward limbs projecting from my raft, having reached
it before me, and being suddenly resisted by the bank, gave the instant
signal for its dissolution, and my sudden debarkation, when I gave one
grand leap in the _direction_ of the bank, yet some yards short of it,
and into the water, from head to foot; but soon crawled out, and wended
my way a mile or two up the shore, where I found my canoe snugly and
safely moored in the willows, where I stepped into it, and paddled back
to the island, and to the same spot where my misfortunes commenced, to
enjoy the pleasure of exultations, which were to flow from contrasting
my present with my former situation.
“Thus, the Island of Mas-co-tin soon lost its horrors, and I strolled
two days and encamped two nights upon its silent shores—with prairie
hens and wild fowl in abundance for my meals. From this lovely ground,
which shews the peaceful graves of hundreds of red men, who have valued
it before me, I paddled off in my light bark, and said, as I looked
back, ‘Sleep there in peace, ye brave fellows! until the sacrilegious
hands of white man, and the unsympathizing ploughshare shall turn thy
bones from their quiet and beautiful resting-place!’
“Two or three days of strolling, brought me again to the Camp Des
Moines, and from thence, with my favourite little bark canoe, placed
upon the deck of the steamer, I embarked for St. Louis, where I arrived
in good order, and soon found the way to the comfortable quarters from
whence I am now writing.”
When I finished telling this story to Joe, his portrait was done, and I
rejoiced to find that I had given to it all the fire and all the _game
look_ that had become so familiar and pleasing to me in our numerous
rambles in the far distant wilds of our former campaigns.[21]
When I had landed from the steamer Warrior, at the wharf, I left all
other considerations to hasten and report myself to my dear wife,
leaving my little canoe on deck and in the especial charge of the
Captain, till I should return for it in the afternoon, and remove it
to safe storage with my other Indian articles, to form an interesting
part of my Museum. On my return to the steamer it was “_missing_,” and
like one that I have named on a former occasion, by some _medicine_
operation, for ever severed from my sight, though not from my
recollections, where it will long remain, and also in a likeness which
I made of it (+plate+ 240, _a_), just after the trick it played me on
the shore of the Mascotin Island.
After I had finished the likeness of my friend Joe, and had told him
the two stories, I sat down and wrote thus in my note-book, and now
copy it into my Letter:—
The West—not the “Far West,” for that is a phantom, travelling on its
tireless wing: but the _West_, the simple West—the vast and vacant
wilds which lie between the trodden haunts of present savage and
civil life—the great and almost boundless garden-spot of earth! This
is the theme at present. The “antres vast and deserts idle,” where
the tomahawk sleeps with the bones of the savage, as yet untouched by
the trespassing ploughshare—the pictured land of silence, which, in
its melancholy alternately echoes backward and forward the plaintive
yells of the vanished red men, and the busy chaunts of the approaching
pioneers. I speak of the boundless plains of beauty, and Nature’s
richest livery, where the waters of the “great deep” parted in peace,
and gracefully passed off without leaving deformity behind them. Over
whose green, enamelled fields, as boundless and free as the ocean’s
wave, Nature’s proudest, noblest men have pranced on their wild horses,
and extended, through a series of ages, their long arms in orisons of
praise and gratitude to the Great Spirit in the sun, for the freedom
and happiness of their existence.—The land that was beautiful and
famed, but had no chronicler to tell—where, while “civilized” was yet
in embryo, dwelt the valiant and the brave, whose deeds of chivalry and
honour have passed away like themselves, unembalmed and untold—where
the plumed war-horse has pranced in time with the shrill sounding
war-cry, and the eagle calumet as oft sent solemn and mutual pledges in
fumes to the skies. I speak of the _neutral ground_ (for such it may
be called), where the smoke of the wigwam is no longer seen, but the
bleaching bones of the buffaloes, and the graves of the savage, tell
the story of times and days that are passed—the land of stillness, on
which the red man now occasionally re-treads in sullen contemplation,
amid the graves of his fathers, and over which civilized man advances,
filled with joy and gladness.
Such is the great valley of the Mississippi and Missouri, over almost
every part of which I have extended my travels, and of which and of its
future wealth and improvements, I have had sublime contemplations.
I have viewed man in the artless and innocent simplicity of nature, in
the full enjoyment of the luxuries which God had bestowed upon him. I
have seen him happier than kings or princes _can_ be; with his pipe
and little ones about him. I have seen him shrinking from civilized
approach, which came _with all its vices_, like the _dead of night_,
upon him: I have seen raised, too, in that _darkness, religion’s
torch_, and seen him gaze and then retreat like the frightened deer,
that are blinded by the light; I have seen him shrinking from the
soil and haunts of his boyhood, bursting the strongest ties which
bound him to the earth, and its pleasures; I have seen him set fire
to his wigwam, and smooth over the graves of his fathers; I have seen
him (’tis the only thing that will bring them) with tears of grief
sliding over his cheeks, clap his hand in silence over his mouth,
and take the _last look_ over his fair hunting grounds, and turn his
face in sadness to the setting sun. All this I have seen performed
in Nature’s silent dignity and grace, which forsook him not in the
last extremity of misfortune and despair; and I have seen as often,
the approach of the bustling, busy, talking, whistling, hopping,
elated and exulting white man, with the first dip of the ploughshare,
making sacrilegious trespass on the bones of the valiant dead. I
have seen the _skull_, the _pipe_, and the _tomahawk_ rise from the
ground together, in interrogations which the sophistry of the world
can never answer. I have seen thus, in all its forms and features,
the grand and irresistible march of civilization. I have seen this
splendid Juggernaut rolling on, and beheld its sweeping desolation;
and held converse with the happy thousands, living, as yet, beyond
its influence, who have not been crushed, nor yet have dreamed of its
approach.
I have stood amidst these unsophisticated people, and contemplated with
feelings of deepest regret, the certain approach of this overwhelming
system, which will inevitably march on and prosper, until reluctant
tears shall have watered every rod of this fair land; and from the
towering cliffs of the Rocky Mountains, the luckless savage will turn
back his swollen eye, over the blue and illimitable hunting grounds
from whence he has fled, and there contemplate, like Caius Marius on
the ruins of Carthage, their splendid desolation.
Such is the vast expanse of country from which Nature’s men are at
this time rapidly vanishing, giving way to the _modern crusade_ which
is following the thousand allurements, and stocking with myriads, this
world of green fields. This splendid area, denominated the “Valley of
the Mississippi,” embraced between the immutable barriers on either
side, the Alleghany and Rocky Mountains; with the Gulf of Mexico on
the South, and the great string of lakes on the North, and the mighty
Mississippi rolling its turbid waters through it, for the distance of
four thousand miles, receiving its hundred tributaries, whose banks
and plateaus are capable of supporting a population of one hundred
millions, covered almost entirely with the richest soil in the world,
with lead, iron, and coal, sufficient for its population—with twelve
thousand miles of river navigation for steamers, within its embrace,
besides the coast on the South, and the great expanse of lakes on the
North—with a population of five millions, already sprinkled over its
nether half, and a greater part of the remainder of it, inviting the
world to its possession, for one dollar and 25 cents (five shillings)
per acre!
I ask, who can contemplate, without amazement, this _mighty river
alone_, eternally rolling its boiling waters through the richest of
soil, for the distance of four thousand miles; over three thousand
five hundred of which, I have myself been wafted on mighty steamers,
ensconced within “curtains damasked, and carpets ingrain;” and on its
upper half, gazed with tireless admiration upon its thousand hills and
mounds of grass and green, sloping down to the water’s edge, in all
the grace and beauty of Nature’s loveliest fabrication. On its lower
half, also, whose rich alluvial shores are studded with stately cotton
wood and elms, which echo back the deep and hollow cough of the puffing
steamers. I have contemplated the bed of this vast river, sinking from
its natural surface; and the alligator driven to its bosom, abandoning
his native bog and fen, which are drying and growing into beauty and
loveliness under the hand of the husbandman.
I have contemplated these boundless forests melting away before the
fatal axe, until the expanded waters of this vast channel, and its
countless tributaries, will yield their surplus to the thirsty sunbeam,
to which their shorn banks will expose them; and I have contemplated,
also, the never-ending transit of steamers, ploughing up the sand
and deposit from its bottom, which its turbid waters are eternally
hurrying on to the ocean, sinking its channel, and thereby raising its
surrounding alluvions for the temptations and enjoyment of man.
All this is _certain_. Man’s increase, and the march of human
improvements in this New World, are as true and irresistible as the
laws of nature, and he who could rise from his grave and speak, or
would speak from the _life_ some half century from this, would proclaim
my prophecy true and fulfilled. I said above, (and I again say it,)
that these are subjects for “sublime contemplation!” At all events
they are so to the traveller, who has wandered over and seen this
vast subject in all its parts, and able to appreciate—who has seen
the frightened _herds_, as well as _multitudes of human_, giving way
and shrinking from the mountain wave of civilization, which is busily
rolling on behind them.
From Maine to Florida on the Atlantic coast, the forefathers of those
hardy sons who are now stocking this fair land, have, from necessity,
in a hard and stubborn soil, inured their hands to labour, and their
habits and taste of life to sobriety and economy, which will ensure
them success in the new world.
This rich country which is now alluring the enterprising young men from
the East, being commensurate with the whole Atlantic States, holds out
the extraordinary inducement that every emigrant can enjoy a richer
soil, and that too in his own native latitude. The sugar planter, the
rice, cotton, and tobacco growers—corn, rye, and wheat producers, from
Louisiana to Montreal, have only to turn their faces to the West, and
there are waiting for them the same atmosphere to breathe, and green
fields already cleared, and ready for the plough, too tempting to be
overlooked or neglected.
As far west as the banks of the Mississippi, the great wave of
emigration has rolled on, and already in its rear the valley is
sprinkled with towns and cities, with their thousand spires pointing
to the skies. For several hundred miles West, also, have the daring
pioneers ventured their lives and fortunes, with their families,
testing the means and luxuries of life, which Nature has spread before
them; in the country where the buried tomahawk is scarce rusted, and
the war-cry has scarcely died on the winds. Among these people have I
roamed. On the Red River I have seen the rich Louisianian chequering
out his cotton and sugar plantations, where the sunbeam could be seen
reflected from the glistening pates of his hundred negroes, making
first trespass with the hoe. I have sat with him at his hospitable
table in his log cabin, sipping sherry and champaigne. _He_ talks of
“_hogsheads_ and _price of stocks_,” or “goes in for cotton.”
In the western parts of Arkansas and Missouri, I have shared the
genuine cottage hospitality of the abrupt, yet polite and honourable
Kentuckian; the easy, affable and sociable Tennesseean; _this_ has “a
smart chance of corn;” the _other_, perhaps, “a power of cotton;” and
then, occasionally, (from the “Old Dominion,”) “I _reckon_ I shall have
a _mighty heap_ of tobacco this season,” &c.
Boys in this country are “_peart_,” fever and ague renders one
“_powerful weak_,” and sometimes it is almost impossible to get
“_shet_” of it. Intelligence, hospitality, and good cheer reign
under all of these humble roofs, and the traveller who knows how to
appreciate those things, with a good cup of coffee, “_corn_[22] bread,”
and fresh butter, can easily enjoy moments of bliss in converse with
the humble pioneer.
On the Upper Mississippi and Missouri, for the distance of seven or
eight hundred miles above St. Louis, is one of the most beautiful
champaigne countries in the world, continually alternating into timber
and fields of the softest green, calculated, from its latitude, for the
people of the northern and eastern states, and “Jonathan” is already
here—and almost every body else from “down East”—with fences of white,
drawn and drawing, like chalk lines, over the green prairie. “By gosh,
this ere is the biggest clearin I ever see.” “I expect we had’nt ought
to raise nothin but wheat and rye here.”—“I guess you’ve come arter
land, ha’nt you?”
Such is the character of this vast country, and such the manner in
which it is filled up, with people from all parts, tracing their
own latitudes, and carrying with them their local peculiarities and
prejudices. The mighty Mississippi, however, the great and everlasting
highway on which these people are for ever to intermingle their
interests and manners, will effectually soften down those prejudices,
and eventually result in an amalgamation of feelings and customs,
from which this huge mass of population will take one new and general
appellation.
It is here that the true character of the _American_ is to be
formed—here where the peculiarities and incongruities which detract
from his true character are surrendered for the free, yet lofty
principle that strikes between meanness and prodigality—between
_literal democracy_ and _aristocracy_—between low cunning and
self-engendered ingenuousness. Such will be found to be the true
character of the Americans when jostled awhile together, until their
local angles are worn off; and such may be found and already pretty
well formed, in the genuine Kentuckian, the first brave and daring
pioneer of the great West; he is the true model of an American—the
nucleus around which the character must form, and from which it is
to emanate to the world. This is the man who first relinquished the
foibles and fashions of Eastern life, trailing his rifle into the
forest of the Mississippi, taking simple Nature for his guide. From
necessity (as well as by nature), bold and intrepid, with the fixed
and unfaltering brow of integrity, and a hand whose very grip (without
words) tells you welcome.
And yet, many people of the East object to the Mississippi, “that it
is too far off—is out of the world.” But how strange and insufficient
is such an objection to the traveller who has seen and enjoyed its
hospitality, and reluctantly retreats from it with feelings of regret;
pronouncing it a “world of itself, equal in luxuries and amusements to
any other.” How weak is such an objection to him who has ascended the
Upper Mississippi to the Fall of St. Anthony, traversed the States of
Missouri, Illinois, and Michigan, and territory of Ouisconsin; over
all of which nature has spread her green fields, smiling and tempting
man to ornament with painted house and fence, with prancing steed and
tasseled carriage—with countless villages, silvered spires and domes,
denoting march of intellect and wealth’s refinement. The sun is sure to
look upon these scenes, and we, perhaps, “_may hear the tinkling from
our graves_.” Adieu.
[21] Poor Chadwick! a few days after the above occasion, he sent
his portrait to his mother, and started for Texas, where he joined
the Texan army, with a commission from Governor Houston; was taken
prisoner in the first battle that he fought, and was amongst the
four hundred prisoners who were shot down in cold blood by the
order of Santa Anna.
[22] Maize.
LETTER—No. 54.
RED PIPE STONE QUARRY, _CÔTEAU DES PRAIRIES_.
The reader who would follow me from the place where my last epistle
was written, to where I now am, must needs start, as I did, from St.
Louis, and cross the Alleghany mountains, to my own native state;
where I left my wife with my parents, and wended my way to Buffalo, on
Lake Erie, where I deposited my Collection; and from thence trace, as
I did, the zig-zag course of the Lakes, from Buffalo to Detroit—to the
Sault de St. Marys—to Mackinaw—to Green Bay, and thence the tortuous
windings of the Fox and Ouisconsin Rivers, to Prairie du Chien; and
then the mighty Mississippi (for the second time), to the Fall of St.
Anthony—then the sluggish, yet decorated and beautiful St. Peters,
towards its source; and thence again (on horseback) the gradually and
gracefully rising terraces of the shorn, yet green and carpeted plains,
denominated the “_Côteau des Prairies_” (being the high and dividing
ridge between the St. Peters and the Missouri Rivers), where I am
bivouacked, at the “_Red Pipe Stone Quarry_.” The distance of such a
Tour would take the reader 4,000 miles; but I save him the trouble by
bringing him, in a moment, on the spot.
This journey has afforded me the opportunity of seeing, on my way,
_Mackinaw_—the _Sault de St. Marys_, and _Green Bay_—points which I
had not before visited; and also of seeing many distinguished Indians
among the Chippeways, Menomonies and Winnebagoes, whom I had not before
painted or seen.
I can put the people of the East at rest, as to the hostile aspect of
this part of the country, as I have just passed through the midst of
these tribes, as well as of the Sioux, in whose country I now am, and
can, without contradiction, assert, that, as far as can be known, they
are generally well-disposed, and have been so, towards the whites.
There have been two companies of United States dragoons, ordered
and marched to Green Bay, where I saw them; and three companies of
infantry from Prairie du Chien to Fort Winnebago, in anticipation
of difficulties; but in all probability, without any real cause or
necessity, for the Winnebago chief answered the officer, who asked
him if they wanted to fight, “that they _could_ not, had they been so
disposed; for,” said he, “we have no guns, no ammunition, nor anything
to eat; and, what is worst of all, one half of our men are dying
with the small-pox. If you will give us guns and ammunition, and pork,
and flour, and feed and take care of our squaws and children, we will
fight you; nevertheless, we will _try_ to fight if you want us to, as
it is.”
[Illustration: 264]
[Illustration: 265]
There is, to appearance (and there is no doubt of the truth of it), the
most humble poverty and absolute necessity for peace among these people
at present, that can possibly be imagined. And, amidst their poverty
and wretchedness, the only war that suggests itself to the eye of the
traveller through their country, is the _war of sympathy and pity_,
which wages in the breast of a feeling, thinking man.
The small-pox, whose ravages have now pretty nearly subsided, has taken
off a great many of the Winnebagoes and Sioux. The famous Wa-be-sha,
of the Sioux, and more than half of his band, have fallen victims
to it within a few weeks, and the remainder of them, blackened with
its frightful distortions, look as it they had just emerged from the
sulphurous regions below. At Prairie du Chien, a considerable number
of the half-breeds, and French also, suffered death by this baneful
disease; and at that place I learned one fact, which may be of service
to science, which was this: that in all cases of vaccination, which had
been given several years ago, it was an efficient protection; but in
those cases where the vaccine had been recent (and there were many of
them), it had not the effect to protect, and in almost every instance
of such, death ensued.
At the Sault de St. Marys on Lake Superior, I saw a considerable number
of Chippeways, living entirely on fish, which they catch with great
ease at that place.
I need not detain the reader a moment with a description of St. Marys,
or of the inimitable summer’s paradise, which can always be seen
at Mackinaw; and which, like the other, has been an hundred times
described. I shall probably have the chance of seeing about 3,000
Chippeways at the latter place on my return home, who are to receive
their annuities at that time through the hands of Mr. Schoolcraft,
their agent.
In +plate+ 264, I have given a distant view of _Mackinaw_, as seen
approaching it from the East; and in +plate+ 265, a view of the _Sault
de St. Marys_, taken from the Canada shore, near the missionary-house,
which is seen in the foreground of the picture, and in distance, the
United States Garrison, and the Rapids; and beyond them the Capes at
the outlet of Lake Superior.
I mentioned that the Chippeways living in the vicinity of the Sault,
live entirely on fish; and it is almost literally true also, that the
French and English, and Americans, who reside about there live on fish,
which are caught in the greatest abundance in the rapids at that place,
and are, perhaps, one of the greatest luxuries of the world. The _white
fish_, which is in appearance much like a salmon, though smaller, is
the luxury I am speaking of, and is caught in immense quantities by
the scoop-nets of the Indians and Frenchmen, amongst the foaming and
dashing water of the rapids (+plate+ 266), where it gains strength
and flavour not to be found in the same fish in any other place. This
unequalled fishery has long been one of vast importance to the immense
numbers of Indians, who have always assembled about it; but of late,
has been found by _money-making men_, to be too valuable a spot for the
exclusive occupancy of the savage, like hundreds of others, and has
at last been filled up with adventurers, who have dipped _their_ nets
till the poor Indian is styled an intruder; and his timid bark is seen
dodging about in the coves for a scanty subsistence, whilst he scans
and envies insatiable white man filling his barrels and boats, and
sending them to market to be converted into money.
In +plate+ 267 is seen one of their favourite amusements at this place,
which I was lucky enough to witness a few miles below the Sault, when
high bettings had been made, and a great concourse of Indians had
assembled to witness an _Indian regatta_ or _canoe race_, which went
off with great excitement, firing of guns, yelping, &c. The Indians in
this vicinity are all Chippeways, and their canoes all made of birch
bark, and chiefly of one model; they are exceedingly light, as I have
before described, and propelled with wonderful velocity.
Whilst I stopped at the Sault, I made excursions on Lake Superior,
and through other parts of the country, both on the Canada and United
States sides, and painted a number of Chippeways; amongst whom were
_On-daig_ (the crow, +plate+ 268), a young man of distinction, in an
extravagant and beautiful costume; and _Gitch-ee-gaw-ga-osh_ (the
point that remains for ever), +plate+ 269, an old and respected
chief.[23] And besides these, _Gaw-zaw-que-dung_ (he who hallows);
_Kay-ee-qua-da-kum-ee-gish-kum_ (he who tries the ground with his
foot); and _I-an-be-wa-dick_ (the male carabou.)
From Mackinaw I proceeded to Green Bay, which is a flourishing
beginning of a town, in the heart of a rich country, and the
head-quarters of land speculators.
From thence, I embarked in a large bark canoe, with five French
voyageurs at the oars, where happened to be grouped and _messed_
together, five “jolly companions” of us, bound for Fort Winnebago and
the Mississippi. All our stores and culinary articles were catered for
by, and bill rendered to, mine host, Mr. C. Jennings (quondam of the
city hotel in New York), who was one of our party, and whom we soon
elected “_Major_” of the expedition; and shortly after, promoted to
“_Colonel_”—from the philosophical dignity and patience with which he
met the difficulties and exposure which we had to encounter, as well
as for his extraordinary skill and taste displayed in the culinary
art. Mr. Irving, a relative of W. Irving, Esq., and Mr. Robert Serril
Wood, an Englishman (both travellers of European realms, with fund
inexhaustible for amusement and entertainment); Lieutenant Reed,
of the army, and myself, forming the rest of the party. The many
amusing little incidents which enlivened our transit up the sinuous
windings of the Fox river, amid its rapids, its banks of loveliest
prairies and “oak openings,” and its boundless shores of wild rice,
with the thrilling notes of Mr. Wood’s guitar, and “_chansons pour
rire_,” from our tawny boatmen, &c. were too good to be thrown away,
and have been registered, perhaps for a future occasion. Suffice it
for the present, that our fragile bark brought us in good time to Fort
Winnebago, with impressions engraven on our hearts which can never
be erased, of this sweet and beautiful little river, and of the fun
and fellowship which kept us awake during the nights, almost as well
as during the days. At this post, after remaining a day, our other
companions took a different route, leaving Mr. Wood and myself to cater
anew, and to buy a light bark canoe for our voyage down the Ouisconsin,
to Prairie du Chien; in which we embarked the next day, with paddles in
hand, and hearts as light as the zephyrs, amid which we propelled our
little canoe. Three days’ paddling, embracing two nights’ encampment,
brought us to the end of our voyage. We entered the mighty Mississippi,
and mutually acknowledged ourselves paid for our labours, by the
inimitable scenes of beauty and romance, through which we had passed,
and on which our untiring eyes had been riveted during the whole way.
[Illustration: 266]
[Illustration: 267]
[Illustration: 268 269]
The Ouisconsin, which the French most appropriately denominate “La
belle riviere,” may certainly vie with any other on the Continent or
in the world, for its beautifully skirted banks and prairie bluffs. It
may justly be said to be equal to the Mississippi about the Prairie du
Chien in point of sweetness and beauty, but not on quite so grand a
scale.
My excellent and esteemed fellow-traveller, like a true Englishman, has
untiringly stuck by me through all difficulties, passing the countries
above-mentioned, and also the Upper Mississippi, the St. Peters, and
the overland route to our present encampment on this splendid plateau
of the Western world. * * * * * * * Thus far have I strolled, within
the space of a few weeks, for the purpose of reaching _classic ground_.
Be not amazed if I have sought, in this distant realm, the Indian
_Muse_, for here she dwells, and here she must be invoked—nor be
offended if my narratives from this moment should savour of poetry or
appear like romance.
If I can catch the inspiration, I may sing (or yell) a few epistles
from this famed ground before I leave it; or at least I will _prose_ a
few of its leading characteristics and mysterious legends. This place
is great (not in history, for there is none of it, but) in traditions,
and stories, of which this Western world is full and rich.
“Here (according to their traditions), happened the mysterious birth
of the red pipe, which has blown its fumes of peace and war to the
remotest corners of the Continent; which has visited every warrior,
and passed through its reddened stem the irrevocable oath of war and
desolation. And here also, the peace-breathing calumet was born, and
fringed with the eagle’s quills, which has shed its thrilling fumes
over the land, and soothed the fury of the relentless savage.
“The Great Spirit at an ancient period, here called the Indian nations
together, and standing on the precipice of the red pipe stone rock,
broke from its wall a piece, and made a huge pipe by turning it in his
hand, which he smoked over them, and to the North, the South, the East,
and the West, and told them that this stone was red—that it was their
flesh—that they must use it for their pipes of peace—that it belonged
to them all, and that the war-club and scalping knife must not be
raised on its ground. At the last whiff of his pipe his head went into
a great cloud, and the whole surface of the rock for several miles was
melted and glazed; two great ovens were opened beneath, and two women
(guardian spirits of the place), entered them in a blaze of fire; and
they are heard there yet (Tso-mec-cos-tee, and Tso-me-cos-te-won-dee),
answering to the invocations of the high priests or medicine-men, who
consult them when they are visitors to this sacred place.”
Near this spot, also, on a high mound, is the “_Thunder’s nest_,”
(_nid-du-Tonnere_), where “a very small bird sits upon her eggs during
fair weather, and the skies are rent with bolts of thunder at the
approach of a storm, which is occasioned by the hatching of her brood!”
“This bird is eternal, and incapable of reproducing her own species:
she has often been seen by the medicine-men, and is about as large as
the end of the little finger! Her mate is a serpent, whose fiery tongue
destroys the young ones as they are hatched, and the fiery noise darts
through the skies.”
Such are a few of the stories of this famed land, which of itself, in
its beauty and loveliness, without the aid of traditionary fame, would
be appropriately denominated a paradise. Whether it has been an Indian
Eden or not, or whether the thunderbolts of Indian Jupiter are actually
forged here, it is nevertheless a place renowned in Indian heraldry
and tradition, which I hope I may be able to fathom and chronicle, as
explanatory of many of my anecdotes and traditionary superstitions of
Indian history, which I have given, and _am giving_, to the world.
With my excellent companion, I am encamped on, and writing from, the
very rock where “the Great Spirit stood when he consecrated the _pipe
of peace_, by moulding it from the rock, and smoking it over the
congregated nations that were assembled about him.” (See +plate+ 270.)
Lifted up on this stately mound, whose top is fanned with air as
light to breathe as nitrous oxide gas—and bivouacked on its very
ridge, (where nought on earth is seen in distance save the thousand
_treeless_, _bushless_, _weedless_ hills of grass and vivid green which
all around me vanish into an infinity of blue and azure), stretched
on our bears’-skins, my fellow-traveller, Mr. Wood, and myself, have
laid and contemplated the splendid orrery of the heavens. With _sad
delight_, that shook me with a terror, have I watched the swollen sun
_shoving down_ (too fast for time) upon the mystic horizon; whose line
was lost except as it was marked in blue across his blood-red disk.
Thus have we laid night after night (two congenial spirits who could
draw pleasure from sublime contemplation), and descanted on our own
insignificance; we have closely drawn our buffalo robes about us,
talked of the ills of life—of friends we had lost—of projects that had
failed—and of the painful steps we had to retrace to reach our own dear
native lands again. We have sighed in the melancholy of twilight, when
the busy winds were breathing their last, the chill of sable night was
hovering around us, and nought of noise was heard but the silvery tones
of the howling wolf, and the subterraneous whistle of the busy gophirs
that were ploughing and vaulting the earth beneath us. Thus have we
seen _wheeled down_ in the _West_, the glories of day; and at the next
moment, in the East, beheld her _silver majesty_ jutting up above the
horizon, with splendour in her face that seemed again to fill the world
with joy and gladness. We have seen here, too, in all its sublimity,
the blackening thunderstorm—the lightning’s glare, and stood amidst
the jarring thunderbolts, that tore and broke in awful rage about us,
as they rolled over the smooth surface, with nought but empty air to
vent their vengeance on. There is a sublime grandeur in these scenes as
they are presented here, which must be seen and felt, to be understood.
There is a majesty in the very ground that we tread upon, that inspires
with awe and reverence; and he must have the soul of a brute, who could
gallop his horse for a whole day over swells and terraces of green that
rise continually a-head, and tantalize (where hills peep over hills,
and Alps on Alps arise), without feeling his bosom swell with awe and
admiration, and himself as well as his thoughts, lifted up in sublimity
when he rises the last terrace, and sweeps his eye over the wide
spread, blue and pictured infinity that lies around and beneath him.[24]
[Illustration: 270]
Man feels here, and startles at the thrilling sensation, the force of
_illimitable freedom_—his body and his mind both seem to have entered
a new element—the former as free as the very wind it inhales, and the
other as expanded and infinite as the boundless imagery that is spread
in distance around him. Such is (and it is feebly told) the _Côteau
du Prairie_. The rock on which I sit to write, is the summit of a
precipice thirty feet high, extending two miles in length and much
of the way polished, as if a liquid glazing had been poured over its
surface. Not far from us, in the solid rock, are the deep impressed
“footsteps of the Great Spirit (in the form of a track of a large
bird), where he formerly stood when the blood of the buffaloes that
he was devouring, ran into the rocks and turned them red.” At a few
yards from us, leaps a beautiful little stream, from the top of the
precipice, into a deep basin below. Here, amid rocks of the loveliest
hues, but wildest contour, is seen the poor Indian performing ablution;
and at a little distance beyond, on the plain, at the base of five huge
granite boulders, he is humbly propitiating the guardian spirits of the
place, by sacrifices of tobacco, entreating for permission to take away
a small piece of the red stone for a pipe. Farther along, and over an
extended plain are seen, like gophir hills, their excavations, ancient
and recent, and on the surface of the rocks, various marks and their
sculptured hieroglyphics—their wakons, totems and medicines—subjects
numerous and interesting for the antiquary or the merely curious.
Graves, mounds, and ancient fortifications that lie in sight—the
_pyramid_ or _leaping-rock_, and its legends; together with traditions,
novel and numerous, and a description, graphical and geological, of
this strange place, have all been subjects that have passed rapidly
through my contemplation, and will be given in future epistles.
On our way to this place, my English companion and myself were arrested
by a rascally band of the Sioux, and held in _durance vile_, for having
dared to approach the sacred _fountain of the pipe_! While we had
halted at the trading-hut of “Le Blanc,” at a place called _Traverse
des Sioux_, on the St. Peters river, and about 150 miles from the Red
Pipe, a murky cloud of dark-visaged warriors and braves commenced
gathering around the house, closing and cramming all its avenues, when
one began his agitated and insulting harangue to us, announcing to us
in the preamble, that we were prisoners, and could not go ahead. About
twenty of them spoke in turn; and we were doomed to sit nearly the
whole afternoon, without being allowed to speak a word in our behalf,
until they had all got through. We were compelled to keep our seats
like culprits, and hold our tongues, till all had brandished their
fists in our faces, and vented all the threats and invective which
could flow from Indian malice, grounded on the presumption that we had
come to trespass on their dearest privilege,—their religion.
There was some allowance to be made, and some excuse, surely, for the
rashness of these poor fellows, and we felt disposed to pity, rather
than resent, though their _unpardonable stubbornness_ excited us
almost to desperation. Their superstition was sensibly touched, for we
were persisting, in the most peremptory terms, in the determination
to visit this, their greatest medicine (mystery) place; where, it
seems, they had often resolved no white man should ever be allowed to
go. They took us to be “officers sent by Government to see what this
place was worth,” &c. As “this red stone was a part of their flesh,”
it would be sacrilegious for white man to touch or take it away—“a
hole would be made in their flesh, and the blood could never be made
to stop running.” My companion and myself were here in a _fix_, one
that demanded the use of every energy we had about us; astounded at
so unexpected a rebuff, and more than ever excited to go ahead, and
see what was to be seen at this strange place; in this emergency, we
mutually agreed to go forward, even if it should be at the hazard
of our lives; we heard all they had to say, and then made our own
speeches—and at length had our horses brought, which we mounted and
rode off without further molestation; and having arrived upon this
interesting ground, have found it quite equal in interest and beauty to
our sanguine expectations, abundantly repaying us for all our trouble
in traveling to it.
I had long ago heard many curious descriptions of this spot given by
the Indians, and had contracted the most impatient desire to visit
it.[25] It will be seen by some of the traditions inserted in this
Letter, from my notes taken on the Upper Missouri four years since,
that those tribes have visited this place freely in former times; and
that it has once been held and owned in common, as neutral ground,
amongst the different tribes who met here to renew their pipes, under
some superstition which stayed the tomahawk of natural foes, always
raised in deadly hate and vengeance in other places. It will be
seen also, that within a few years past (and that, probably, by the
instigation of the whites, who have told them that by keeping off other
tribes, and manufacturing the pipes themselves, and trading them to
other adjoining nations, they can acquire much influence and wealth),
the Sioux have laid entire claim to this quarry; and as it is in the
centre of their country, and they are more powerful than any other
tribes, they are able successfully to prevent any access to it.
That this place should have been visited for centuries past by all the
neighbouring tribes, who have hidden the war-club as they approached
it, and stayed the cruelties of the scalping-knife, under the fear of
the vengeance of the Great Spirit, who overlooks it, will not seem
strange or unnatural, when their religion and superstitions are known.
That such has been the custom, there is not a shadow of doubt; and that
even so recently as to have been witnessed by hundreds and thousands
of Indians of different tribes, now living, and from many of whom I
have personally drawn the information, some of which will be set forth
in the following traditions; and as an additional (and still more
conclusive) evidence of the above position, here are to be seen (and
will continue to be seen for ages to come), the _totems_ and _arms_
of the different tribes, who have visited this place for ages past,
deeply engraved on the quartz rocks, where they are to be recognized in
a moment (and not to be denied) by the passing traveller, who has been
among these tribes, and acquired even but a partial knowledge of them
and their respective modes.[26]
The thousands of inscriptions and paintings on the rocks at this
place, as well as the ancient diggings for the pipe-stone, will afford
amusement for the world who will visit it, without furnishing the least
data, I should think, of the time at which these excavations commenced,
or of the period at which the Sioux assumed the exclusive right to it.
Among the many traditions which I have drawn personally from the
different tribes, and which go to support the opinion above advanced,
is the following one, which was related to me by a distinguished
Knisteneaux, on the Upper Missouri, four years since, on occasion of
presenting to me a handsome red stone pipe. After telling me that he
had been to this place—and after describing it in all its features, he
proceeded to say:—
“That in the time of a great freshet, which took place many centuries
ago, and destroyed all the nations of the earth, all the tribes of the
red men assembled on the Côteau du Prairie, to get out of the way of
the waters. After they had all gathered here from all parts, the water
continued to rise, until at length it covered them all in a mass, and
their flesh was converted into red pipe stone. Therefore it has always
been considered neutral ground—it belonged to all tribes alike, and all
were allowed to get it and smoke it together.
“While they were all drowning in a mass, a young woman, K-wap-tah-w (a
virgin), caught hold of the foot of a very large bird that was flying
over, and was carried to the top of a high cliff, not far off, that
was above the water. Here she had twins, and their father was the
war-eagle, and her children have since peopled the earth.
“The pipe stone, which is the flesh of their ancestors, is smoked by
them as the symbol of peace, and the eagle’s quill decorates the head
of the brave.”
_Tradition of the Sioux._—“Before the creation of man, the Great Spirit
(whose tracks are yet to be seen on the stones, at the Red Pipe, in
form of the tracks of a large bird) used to slay the buffaloes and
eat them on the ledge of the Red Rocks, on the top of the Côteau des
Prairies, and their blood running on to the rocks, turned them red. One
day when a large snake had crawled into the nest of the bird to eat
his eggs, one of the eggs hatched out in a clap of thunder, and the
Great Spirit catching hold of a piece of the pipe stone to throw at the
snake, moulded it into a man. This man’s feet grew fast in the ground
where he stood for many ages, like a great tree, and therefore he grew
very old; he was older than an hundred men at the present day; and at
last another tree grew up by the side of him, when a large snake ate
them both off at the roots, and they wandered off together; from these
have sprung all the people that now inhabit the earth.”
The above tradition I found amongst the Upper Missouri Sioux, but
which, when I related to that part of the great tribe of Sioux who
inhabit the Upper Mississippi, they seemed to know nothing about it.
The reason for this may have been, perhaps, as is often the case, owing
to the fraud or excessive ignorance of the interpreter, on whom we
are often entirely dependent in this country; or it is more probably
owing to the very vague and numerous fables which may often be found,
cherished and told by different bands or families in the same tribe,
and relative to the same event.
I shall on a future occasion, give you a Letter on traditions of this
kind, which will be found to be very strange and amusing; establishing
the fact at the same time, that theories respecting their origin,
creation of the world, &c. &c., are by no means uniform throughout
the different tribes, nor even through an individual tribe; and that
very many of these theories are but the vagaries, or the ingenious
systems of their medicine or mystery-men, conjured up and taught to
their own respective parts of a tribe, for the purpose of gaining an
extraordinary influence over the minds and actions of the remainder
of the tribe, whose superstitious minds, under the supernatural
controul and dread of these self-made magicians, are held in a state of
mysterious vassalage.
Amongst the Sioux of the Mississippi, and who live in the region of
the Red Pipe Stone Quarry, I found the following and not less strange
tradition on the same subject. “Many ages after the red men were made,
when all the different tribes were at war, the Great Spirit sent
runners and called them all together at the ‘Red Pipe.’—He stood on the
top of the rocks, and the red people were assembled in infinite numbers
on the plains below. He took out of the rock a piece of the red stone,
and made a large pipe; he smoked it over them all; told them that it
was part of their flesh; that though they were at war, they must meet
at this place as friends; that it belonged to them all; that they must
make their calumets from it and smoke them to him whenever they wished
to appease him or get his good-will—the smoke from his big pipe rolled
over them all, and he disappeared in its cloud; at the last whiff
of his pipe a blaze of fire rolled over the rocks, and melted their
surface—at that moment two squaws went in a blaze of fire under the two
medicine rocks, where they remain to this day, and must be consulted
and propitiated whenever the pipe stone is to be taken away.”
The following speech of a Mandan, which was made to me in the Mandan
village four years since, after I had painted his picture, I have
copied from my note-book as corroborative of the same facts:
“My brother—You have made my picture and I like it much. My friends
tell me they can see the eyes move, and it must be very good—it must
be partly alive. I am glad it is done—though many of my people are
afraid. I am a young man, but my heart is strong. I have jumped on to
the medicine-rock—I have placed my arrow on it and no Mandan can take
it away.[27] The red stone is slippery, but my foot was true—it did
not slip. My brother, this pipe which I give to you, I brought from a
high mountain, it is toward the rising sun—many were the pipes that
we brought from there—and we brought them away in peace. We left our
_totems_ or marks on the rocks—we cut them deep in the stones, and
they are there now. The Great Spirit told all nations to meet there
in peace, and all nations hid the war-club and the tomahawk. The
_Dah-co-tahs_, who are our enemies, are very strong—they have taken up
the tomahawk, and the blood of our warriors has run on the rocks. My
friend, we want to visit our medicines—our pipes are old and worn out.
My friend, I wish you to speak to our Great Father about this.”
The chief of the Puncahs, on the Upper Missouri, also made the
following allusion to this place, in a speech which he made to me on
the occasion of presenting me a very handsome pipe about four years
since:—
“My friend, this pipe, which I wish you to accept, was dug from the
ground, and cut and polished as you now see it, by my hands. I wish
you to keep it, and when you smoke through it, recollect that this
red stone is a part of our flesh. This is one of the last things we
can ever give away. Our enemies the Sioux, have raised the red flag
of blood over the Pipe Stone Quarry, and our medicines there are
trodden under foot by them. The Sioux are many, and we cannot go to the
mountain of the red pipe. We have seen all nations smoking together at
that place—but, my brother, it is not so now.”[28]
Such are a few of the stories relating to this curious place, and many
others might be given which I have procured, though they amount to
nearly the same thing, with equal contradictions and equal absurdities.
The position of the Pipe Stone Quarry, is in a direction nearly West
from the Fall of St. Anthony, at a distance of three hundred miles,
on the summit of the dividing ridge between the St. Peters and the
Missouri rivers, being about equi-distant from either. This dividing
ridge is denominated by the French, the “Côteau des Prairies,” and
the “Pipe Stone Quarry” is situated near its southern extremity, and
consequently not exactly on its highest elevation, as its general
course is north and south, and its southern extremity terminates in a
gradual slope.
Our approach to it was from the East, and the ascent, for the distance
of fifty miles, over a continued succession of slopes and terraces,
almost imperceptibly rising one above another, that seemed to lift
us to a great height. The singular character of this majestic mound,
continues on the West side, in its descent toward the Missouri. There
is not a tree or bush to be seen from the highest summit of the ridge,
though the eye may range East and West, almost to a boundless extent,
over a surface covered with a short grass, that is green at one’s feet,
and about him, but changing to blue in distance, like nothing but the
blue and vastness of the ocean.
The whole surface of this immense tract of country is hard and smooth,
almost without stone or gravel, and coated with a green turf of grass
of three or four inches only in height. Over this the wheels of a
carriage would run as easily, for hundreds of miles, as they could on a
Mc Adamized road, and its graceful gradations would in all parts, admit
of a horse to gallop, with ease to himself and his rider.
The full extent and true character of these vast prairies are but
imperfectly understood by the world yet; who will agree with me that
they are a subject truly sublime, for contemplation, when I assure
them, that “a coach and four” might, be driven with ease, (with the
exception of rivers and ravines, which are in many places impassable),
over unceasing fields of green, from the Fall of St. Anthony to Lord
Selkirk’s Establishment on the Red River, at the North; from that to
the mouth of Yellow Stone on the Missouri—thence to the Platte—to the
Arkansas, and Red Rivers of the South, and through Texas to the Gulf of
Mexico, a distance of more than three thousand miles.
I mentioned in a former Letter, that we had been arrested by the Sioux,
on our approach to this place, at the trading-post of Le Blanc, on
the banks of the St. Peters; and I herein insert the most important
part of the speeches made, and talks held on that momentous occasion,
as near as my friend and I could restore them, from partial notes and
recollection. After these copper-visaged advocates of their country’s
rights had assembled about us, and filled up every avenue of the cabin,
the grave council was opened in the following manner:—
_Te-o-kun-hko_ (the swift man), first rose and said—
“My friends, I am not a chief, but the son of a chief—I am the son of
my father—he is a chief—and when he is gone away, it is my duty to
speak for him—he is not here—but what I say is the talk of his mouth.
We have been told that you are going to the Pipe Stone Quarry. We come
now to ask for what purpose you are going, and what business you have
to go there.” (‘How! how!’ vociferated all of them, thereby approving
what was said, giving assent by the word _how_, which is their word for
yes).
“_Brothers_—I am a brave, but not a chief—my arrow stands in the top of
the leaping-rock; all can see it, and all know that Te-o-kun-hko’s foot
has been there. (‘How! how!’)
“_Brothers_—We look at you and we see that you are Che-mo-ke-mon
capitains (white men officers): we know that you have been sent by your
Government, to see what that place is worth, and we think the white
people want to buy it. (‘How! how!’).
“_Brothers_—We have seen always that the white people, when they see
anything in our country that they want, send officers to value it, and
then if they can’t buy it, they will get it some other way. (‘How!
how!’)
“_Brothers_—I speak strong, my heart is strong, and I speak fast; this
red pipe was given to the red men by the Great Spirit—it is a part of
our flesh, and therefore is great _medicine_. (‘How! how!’)
“_Brothers_—We know that the whites are like a great cloud that rises
in the East, and will cover the whole country. We know that they will
have all our lands; but, if ever they get our Red Pipe Quarry they will
have to pay very dear for it. (‘How! how! how!’)
“_Brothers_—We know that no white man has ever been to the Pipe Stone
Quarry, and our chiefs have often decided in council that no white man
shall ever go to it. (‘How! how!’)
“_Brothers_—You have heard what I have to say, and you can go no
further, but you must turn about and go back. (‘How! how! how!’)
“_Brothers_—You see that the sweat runs from my face, for I am
troubled.”
Then I commenced to reply in the following manner:—
“My friends, I am sorry that you have mistaken us so much, and the
object of our visit to your country. We are not officers—we are not
sent by any one—we are two poor men travelling to see the Sioux and
shake hands with them, and examine what is curious or interesting
in their country. This man who is with me is my friend; he is a
_Sa-ga-nosh_ (an Englishman).
(‘How! how! how!’)
(All rising and shaking hands with him, and a number of them taking out
and showing British medals which were carried in their bosoms.)
“We have heard that the Red Pipe Quarry was a great curiosity, and we
have started to go to it, and we will not be stopped.” (Here I was
interrupted by a grim and black-visaged fellow, who shook his long
shaggy locks as he rose, with his sunken eyes fixed in direst hatred on
me, and his fist brandished within an inch of my face.)
“_Pale faces!_ you cannot speak till we have all done; you are our
_prisoners_—our young men (our soldiers) are about the house, and you
must listen to what we have to say. What has been said to you is true,
you must go back. (‘How! how!’)
“We heard the word _Saganosh_, and it makes our hearts glad; we
shook hand with our brother—his father is our father—he is our Great
Father—he lives across the big lake—his son is here, and we are glad—we
wear our Great Father the sag-a-nosh on our bosoms, and we keep his
face bright[29]—we shake hands, but no white man has been to the red
pipe and none shall go. (‘How!’)
“You see (holding a red pipe to the side of his naked arm) that this
pipe is a part of our flesh. The red men are a part of the red stone.
(‘How, how!’)
“If the white men take away a piece of the red pipe stone, it is a hole
made in our flesh, and the blood will always run. We cannot stop the
blood from running. (‘How, how!’)
“The Great Spirit has told us that the red stone is only to be used for
pipes, and through them we are to smoke to him. (‘How!’)
“Why do the white men want to get there? You have no good object in
view; we know you have none, and the sooner you go back, the better.”
(“How, how!”)
_Muz-za_ (the iron) spoke next.
“My friends, we do not wish to harm you; you have heard the words of
our chief men, and you now see that you must go back. (‘How, how!’)
“_Tchan-dee-pah-sha-kah-free_ (the red pipe stone) was given to us
by the Great Spirit, and no one need ask the price of it, for it is
_medicine_. (‘How, how!’)
“My friends, I believe what you have told us; I think your intentions
are good; but our chiefs have always told us, that no white man was
allowed to go there—and you cannot go.” (“How, how!”)
_Another._—“My friends, you see I am a young man; you see on my
war-club two scalps from my enemies’ heads; my hands have been dipped
in blood, but I am a good man. I am a friend to the whites, to the
traders; and they are your friends. I bring them 3000 muskrat skins
every year, which I catch in my own traps. (‘How, how!’)
“We love to go to the Pipe Stone, and get a piece for our pipes; but we
ask the Great Spirit first. If the white men go to it, they will take
it out, and not fill up the holes again, and the Great Spirit will be
offended.” (“How, how, how!”)
_Another._—“My friends, listen to me! what I am to say will be the
truth.—(‘How!’)
“I brought a large piece of the pipe stone, and gave it to a white man
to make a pipe; he was our trader, and I wished him to have a good
pipe. The next time I went to his store, I was unhappy when I saw that
stone made into a dish! (‘Eugh!’)
“This is the way the white men would use the red pipe stone, if they
could get it. Such conduct would offend the Great Spirit, and make a
red man’s heart sick. (‘How, how!’)
“_Brothers_, we do not wish to harm you—if you turn about and go back,
you will be well, both you and your _horses_—you cannot go forward.
(‘How, how!’)
“We know that if you go to the pipe stone, the Great Spirit looks upon
you—the white people do not think of that. (‘How, how!’)
“I have no more to say.”
These, and a dozen other speeches to the same effect, having been
pronounced, I replied in the following manner:
“_My friends_, you have entirely mistaken us; we are no officers, nor
are we sent by any one—the white men do not want the red pipe—it is not
worth their carrying home so far, if you were to give it all to them.
Another thing, they don’t use pipes—they don’t know how to smoke them.
‘How, how!’
“_My friends_, I think as you do, that the Great Spirit has given that
place to the red men for their pipes.
‘How, how, how!’
“I give you great credit for the course you are taking to preserve and
protect it; and I will do as much as any man to keep white men from
taking it away from you.
‘How, how!’
“But we have started to go and see it; and we cannot think of being
stopped.”
Another rose (interrupting me):—
“White men! your words are very smooth; you have some object in view or
you would not be so determined to go—you have no good design, and the
quicker you turn back the better; there is no use of talking any more
about it—if you think best to go, try it; that’s all I have to say.”
(“How, how!”)
During this scene, the son of Monsr. Le Blanc was standing by, and
seeing this man threatening me so hard by putting his fist near my
face; he several times stepped up to him, and told him to stand back
at a respectful distance, or that he would knock him down. After their
speaking was done, I made a few remarks, stating that we should go
ahead, which we did the next morning, by saddling our horses and riding
off through the midst of them, as I have before described.
Le Blanc told us, that these were the most disorderly and treacherous
part of the Sioux nation, that they had repeatedly threatened his life,
and that he expected they would take it. He advised us to go back as
they ordered; but we heeded not his advice.
On our way we were notified at several of their villages which
we passed, that we must go back; but we proceeded on, and over a
beautiful prairie country, of one hundred miles or more, when our
Indian guide brought us to the trading-house of an old acquaintance of
mine, Monsieur La Fromboise, who lives very comfortably, and in the
employment of the American Fur Company, near the base of the Côteau,
and forty or fifty miles from the Pipe Stone Quarry.
We rode up unexpectedly, and at full gallop, to his door, when he met
us and addressed us as follows:—
“Ha! Monsr. how do you do?—Quoi! ha, est ce vous, Monsr. Cataline—est
il possible? Oui, oui, vraiment le meme—mon ami, Cataline—comment se
va-t-il? et combien (pardon me though, for I can speak English). How
have you been since I saw you last season? and how under Heaven, have
you wandered into this wild region, so far from civilization? Dismount,
dismount, gentlemen, and you are welcome to the comforts, such as they
are, of my little cabin.”
“Monsr. La Fromboise, allow me to introduce to your acquaintance, my
friend, and travelling companion, Mr. Wood, of England.”
“Monsr. Wood, I am happy to see you, and I hope you will make allowance
for the rudeness of my cabin, and the humble manner in which I shall
entertain you.”
“I assure you, my dear sir, that no apology is necessary; for your
house looks as delightful as a palace, to Mr. Catlin and myself, who
have so long been tenants of the open air.”
“Gentlemen, walk in; we are surrounded with red folks here, and you
will be looked upon by them with great surprise.”
“That’s what we want to see exactly. Catlin! that’s fine—oh! how lucky
we are.”
“Well, gentlemen, walk into the other room; you see I have two rooms
to my house (or rather cabin), but they are small and unhandy. Such as
I have shall be at your service heartily; and I assure you, gentlemen,
that this is the happiest moment of my life. I cannot give you
feather-beds to sleep on; but I have a plenty of new robes, and you,
at all events, Monsr. Cataline, know by this time how to make a bed of
them. We can give you plenty of buffalo meat, buffalo tongues, wild
geese, ducks, prairie hens, venison, trout, young swan, beaver tails,
pigeons, plums, grapes, young bear, some green corn, squash, onions,
water-melons, and pommes des terres, some coffee and some tea.”
“My good friend, one-half or one-third of these things (which are all
luxuries to us) would render us happy; put yourself to no trouble on
our account, and we shall be perfectly happy under your roof.”
“I am very sorry, gentlemen, that I cannot treat you as I would be
glad to do; but you must make up for these things if you are fond of
sporting, for there are plenty of buffaloes about; at a little distance
the prairies are speckled with them; and our prairies and lakes abound
with myriads of prairie hens, ducks, geese and swan. You shall make me
a long visit, gentlemen, and we will have sport in abundance. I assure
you, that I shall be perfectly happy whilst you are with me. Pardon me
a little, while I order you some dinner, and attend to some Indians who
are in my store, trading, and taking their fall credits.”
“That’s a fine fellow I’ll engage you,” said my companion.
“Yes, he is all that. I have known him before; he is a gentleman, and
a polished one too, every ounce of him. You see in this instance how
durable and lasting are the manners of a true gentleman, and how little
a life-time of immersion in the wilderness, amid the reckless customs
of savage life, will extinguish or efface them. I could name you a
number of such, whose surface seems covered with a dross, which once
rubbed of, shows a polish brighter than ever.”
We spent a day or two very pleasantly with this fine and hospitable
fellow, until we had rested from the fatigue of our journey; when he
very kindly joined us with fresh horses, and piloted us to the Pipe
Stone Quarry, where he is now encamped with us, a jolly companionable
man, and familiar with most of the events and traditions of this
strange place, which he has visited on former occasions.[30]
La Fromboise has some good Indian blood in his veins, and from his
modes of life, as well as from a natural passion that seems to belong
to the French adventurers in these wild regions, he has a great relish
for songs and stories, of which he gives us many, and much pleasure;
and furnishes us one of the most amusing and gentlemanly companions
that could possibly be found. My friend Wood sings delightfully,
also, and as I cannot sing, but can tell, now and then, a story, with
tolerable effect, we manage to pass away our evenings, in our humble
bivouack, over our buffalo meat and prairie hens, with much fun and
amusement. In these nocturnal amusements, I have done _my_ part, by
relating anecdotes of my travels on the Missouri, and other parts of
the Indian country which I have been over; and occasionally reading
from my note-book some of the amusing entries I had formerly made in
it, but never have had time to transcribe for the world.
As I can’t write music, and _can_ (in my own way) write a story, the
readers will acquit me of egotism or partiality, in reporting only _my
own part_ of the entertainments; which was generally the mere reading
a story or two from my notes which I have with me, or relating some of
the incidents of life which my old travelling companion “_Batiste_” and
I had witnessed in former years.
Of these, I read one last evening, that pleased my good friend La
Fromboise so exceedingly, that I am constrained to copy it into my
Letter and send it home.
This amusing story is one that my man Ba’tiste used to tell to Bogard,
and others with great zest; describing his adventure one night, in
endeavouring to procure a _medicine-bag_, which I had employed him to
obtain for me on the Upper Missouri; and he used to prelude it thus:—
“Je commence—”
“Dam your commonce, (said Bogard), tell it in English—”
“Pardón, Monsieur, en Americaine—”
“Well, American then, if you please; anything but your darned ‘_parlez
vous_.’”
“Bien, excusez—now Monsieur Bogard, you must know first place, de
‘_Medicine-Bags_’ is mere humbug, he is no _medicine_ in him—no pills;
he is someting mysterieux. Some witchcraft, súppose. You must know
que tous les sauvages have such tings about him, pour for good luck.
Ce n’est que (pardón) it is only _hocus pocus_, to keep off witch,
súppose. You must know ces articles can nevare be sold, of course you
see dey cannot be buy. So my friend here, Monsieur Cataline, who have
collect all de curiosités des pays sauvages, avait made strong applique
to me pour for to get one of dese _medicine-bags_ for his Collection
curieux, et I had, pour moimeme, le curiosité extreme pour for to see
des quelques choses ces étranges looking tings was composi.
I had learn much of dese strange custom, and I know wen de Ingin die,
his _medicine-bags_ is buried wis him.
Oui, Monsieur, so it never can be got by any boday. Bien. I hap to tink
one day wen we was live in de mous of Yellow Stone, now is time, and I
avait said to Monsieur Cataline, que pensez vous? _Kon-te-wonda_ (un
des chefs du) (pardón, one of de chiefs, of de Knisteneaux) has die
tó-day. Il ayait une _medicine-bag_ magnifique, et extremement curieux;
il est composé d’un, it is made (pardón, si vous plait) of de wite wolf
skin, ornement et stuff wid tousand tings wich we shall see, ha? Good
luck! Suppose Monsieur Cataline, I have seen him just now. I av see de
_medicine-bag_; laid on his breast avec his hands crossed ovare it. Que
pensez vous? I can get him to-night, ha? If you will keep him, if you
shall not tell, ha? ’Tis no harm—’tis no steal—he is dead, ha? Well,
you shall _see_. But, would you not be afraid, Ba’tiste, (said Monsieur
Cataline), to take from dis poor fellow his medicines (or mysteries)
on which he has rest all his hopes in dis world, and de world to come?
Pardón, je n’ai pas peur; non, Monsieur, ne rien de peur. I nevare saw
ghost—I have not fear, mais, súppose, it is not right, éxact; but I
have grand disposition pour for to obligé my friend, et le curiosité
moimeme, pour to see wat it is made of; suppose tó-night I shall go,
ha? ‘Well, Ba’tiste, I have no objection (said Monsieur Cataline) if
your heart does not fail you, for I will be very glads to get him,
and will make you a handsome present for it, but I think it will be
a cold and gloomy kind of business.’ Nevare mind, Monsieur Cataline
(I said) provide he is well dead, _perfect dead_! Well, I had see les
Knisteneaux when dey ave bury de chap—I ave watch close, and I ave
see how de medicine-bags was put. It was fix pretty tight by some
cord around his bellay, and den some skins was wrap many times áround
him—he was put down in de hole dug for him, and some flat stones and
some little dirt was laid on him, only till next day, wen some grand
ceremonays was to be pérform ovare him, and den de hole was to be fill
up; now was de only time possibe for de _medicine-bag_, ha? I ave very
pretty little wife at dat times, Assinneboin squaw, and we sleep in one
of de stores inside of de Fort, de Trade-house, you know, ha?
“So you may súppose I was all de day perplex to know how I should go,
somebody may watch—súppose, he may not be dead! not quite dead, ha?
nevare mind—le jour was bien long, et le nuit dismal, _dismal_! oh by
gar _it was dismal_! plien, plien (pardon) full of apprehension, mais
sans _peur_, je _navais pas peur_! So some time aftere midnights, wen
it was bout right time pour go, I made start, very light, so my wife
must not wake. Oh diable l’imagination! quel solitude! well, I have go
very well yet, I am pass de door, and I am pass de gate, and I am at
lengts arrive at de grave! súppose ‘now Ba’tiste, courage, courage!
now is de times come.’ Well, suppose, I am not fraid of _dead man_,
mais, perhaps, dese _medicine-bag_ is give by de Grande Esprit to de
Ingin for someting? possibe! I will let him keep it. I shall go back!
No, Monsieur Cataline will laughs at me. I must have him, ma foi,
mon courage! so I climb down very careful into de grave, mais, as I
déscend, my heart rise up into my mouse! Oh mon Dieu! courage Ba’tiste,
courage! ce n’est pas _l’homme_ dat I fear, mais le _medicine_, le
_medicine_. So den I ave lift out de large stones, I ave put out my
head in de dark, and I ave look all de contré round; ne personne, ne
personne—no bodé in sight! Well, I ave got softly down on my knees
ovare him, (oh, courage! courage! oui) and wen I ave unwrap de robe,
I av all de time say, ‘pardon, courage! pardon, courage! untill I ad
got de skins all off de bodé; I ave den take hold of de cord to untie,
mais!! (dans l’instant) two cold hands seize me by de wrists! and I was
just dead—I was petrifact in one instant. Oh St. Esprit! I could just
see in de dark two eyes glaring like fire sur upon me! and den, (oh,
eugh!) it spoke to me, ‘Who are you?’ (Sacré, vengeance! it will not
do to deceive him, no,) ‘I am Ba’tiste, _poor_ Ba’tiste!’ ‘Then thou
art surely mine, (as he clenched both arms tight around my boday) lie
still Ba’tiste.’ Oh, holy Vierge! St. Esprit! O mon Dieu! I could not
breathe! miserable! je sui perdu! oh pourquoi have I been such fool
to get into dese cold, cold arms! ‘Ba’tiste? (drawing me some tighter
and tighter!) do you not belong to me, Ba’tiste?’ Yes, súppose! oh
diable! belong? Oui, oui, je suis certainment perdu, lost, lost, for
evare! _Oh! can you not possibe let me go?_ ‘No, Ba’tiste, we must
never part.’ Grand Dieu! c’est finis, finis, finis avec moi! “Then you
do not love me any more, Ba’tiste?” Quel! quoi! what!! est ce vous,
_Wee-ne-on-ka_? ‘Yes, Ba’tiste, it is the _Bending Willow_ who holds
you, she that loves you and will not let you go? Are you dreaming
Ba’tiste?’ Oui, diable, ————!”
“Well, Ba’tiste, that’s a very good story, and very well told; I
presume you never tried again to get a medicine-bag?”
“Non, Monsieur Bogard, je vous assure, I was satisfy wis de mistakes
dat night, pour for je crois qu’il fut l’Esprit, le Grand Esprit.”
After this, my entertaining companions sung several amusing songs, and
then called upon me for another story. Which Mr. Wood had already heard
me tell several times, and which he particularly called for; as
“THE STORY OF THE DOG,”
and which I began as follows:—
“Well, some time ago, when I was drifting down the mighty Missouri, in
a little canoe, with two hired men, Bogard and Ba’tiste, (and in this
manner _did_ we glide along) amid all the pretty scenes and ugly, that
decked the banks of that river, from the mouth of the Yellow Stone, to
St. Louis, a distance of _only_ two thousand miles; Bogard and Ba’tiste
plied their paddles and I _steered_, amid snag and sand-bar—amongst
drift logs and herds of swimming buffaloes—our beds were uniformly on
the grass, or upon some barren beach, which we often chose, to avoid
the suffocating clouds of musquitoes; our fire was (by the way we had
none at night) kindled at sundown, under some towering bluff—our supper
cooked and eaten, and we off again, floating some four or five miles
after nightfall, when our canoe was landed at random, on some unknown
shore. In whispering silence and darkness our buffalo robes were drawn
out and spread upon the grass, and our bodies stretched upon them; our
pistols were belted to our sides, and our rifles always slept in our
arms. In this way we were encamped, and another robe drawn over us,
head and foot, under which our iron slumbers were secure from the tread
of all foes saving that of the sneaking gangs of wolves, who were
nightly serenading us with their harmonics, and often quarrelling for
the privilege of chewing off the corners of the robe, which served us
as a blanket. ‘Caleb’ (the grizzly bear) was often there too, leaving
the print of his deep impressed footsteps where he had perambulated,
reconnoitring, though not disturbing us. Our food was simply buffalo
meat from day to day, and from morning till night, for coffee and bread
we had not. The fleece (hump) of a fat cow, was the luxury of luxuries;
and for it we would step ashore, or as often level our rifles upon the
‘slickest’ of the herds from our canoe, as they were grazing upon the
banks. Sometimes the antelope, the mountain-sheep, and so the stately
elk contributed the choicest cuts for our little larder; and at others,
while in the vicinity of war-parties, where we dared not to fire our
guns, our boat, was silently steered into some little cove or eddy, our
hook and line dipped, and we trusted to the bite of a catfish for our
suppers: if we got him, he was sometimes too large and tough; and if we
got him not, we would swear, (not at all) and go to bed.
“Our meals were generally cooked and eaten on piles of driftwood, where
our fire was easily kindled, and a peeled log (which we generally
straddled) did admirably well for a seat, and a table to eat from.
“In this manner did we glide away from day to day, with anecdote and
fun to shorten the time, and just enough of the _spice of danger_ to
give vigour to our stomachs, and keenness to our appetites—making and
meeting accident and incident sufficient for a ‘book.’ Two hundred
miles from the mouth of Yellow Stone brought us to the village of the
kind and gentlemanly Mandans. With them I lived for some time—was
welcomed—taken gracefully by the arm, by their plumed dignitaries,
and feasted in their hospitable lodges. Much have I already said of
these people, and more of them, a great deal, I may say at a future
day; but now, to our ‘_story_.’ As _preamble_, however, having
launched our light canoe at the Mandan village, shook hands with the
chiefs and braves, and took the everlasting farewell glance at those
_models_, which I wept to turn from; we dipped our paddles, and were
again gliding off upon the mighty water, on our way to St. Louis. We
travelled fast, and just as the village of the Mandans, and the bold
promontory on which it stands, were changing to blue, and ‘dwindling
into nothing,’ we heard the startling yells, and saw in distance behind
us, the troop that was gaining upon us! their red shoulders were
bounding over the grassy bluffs—their hands extended, and robes waving
with signals for us to stop! In a few moments they were opposite to us
on the bank, and I steered my boat to the shore. They were arranged for
my reception, with amazement and orders imperative stamped on every
brow. ‘Mi-neek-e-sunk-te-ka’ (the mink), they exclaimed, ‘is dying!
the picture which you made of her is too much like her—you put so much
of her into it, that when your boat took it away from our village, it
drew a part of her life away with it—she is bleeding from her mouth—she
is puking up all her blood; by taking that away, you are drawing the
strings out of her heart, and they will soon break; we must take her
picture back, and then she will get well—your _medicine_ is great, it
is too great; but we wish you well.’ Mr. Kipp, their Trader, came with
the party, and interpreted as above. I unrolled my bundle of portraits,
and though I was unwilling to part with it (for she was a beautiful
girl), yet I placed it in their hands, telling them that I wished her
well; and I was exceedingly glad to get my boat peaceably under way
again, and into the current, having taken another and everlasting shake
of the hands. They rode back at full speed with the portrait; but
intelligence which I have since received from there, informs me that
the girl died; and that I am for ever to be considered as the cause of
her misfortunes. This is not _the_ ‘_story_,’ however, but I will tell
it as soon as I can come to it. We dropped off, and down the rolling
current again, from day to day, until at length the curling smoke of
the Riccarees announced their village in view before us!
“We trembled and quaked, for all boats not stoutly armed, steal by them
in the dead of night. We muffled our paddles, and instantly dropped
under some willows, where we listened to the yelping, barking rabble,
until sable night had drawn her curtain around (though it was not
_sable_, for the moon arose, to our great mortification and alarm, in
full splendour and brightness), when, at eleven o’clock, we put out
to the middle of the stream—silenced our paddles, and trusted to the
current to waft us by them. We lay close in our boat with a pile of
green bushes over us, making us nothing in the world but a ‘floating
tree-top.’ On the bank, in front of the village, was enacting at
that moment, a scene of the most frightful and thrilling nature. An
hundred torches were swung about in all directions, giving us a full
view of the group that were assembled, and some fresh scalps were hung
on poles, and were then going through the nightly ceremony that is
performed about them for a certain number of nights, composed of the
frightful and appalling shrieks, and yells, and gesticulations of the
_scalp-dance_.[31]
“In addition to this multitude of demons (as they looked), there
were some hundreds of cackling women and girls bathing in the river
on the edge of a sand-bar, at the lower end of the village; at which
place the stream drifted our small craft in, close to the shore,
till the moon lit their shoulders, their foreheads, chins, noses!
and they stood, half-merged, like mermaids, and gazed upon us!
singing ‘_Chee-na-see-nun, chee-na-see-nun ke-mon-shoo kee-ne-he-na,
ha-way-tah? shee-sha, shee-sha_;’ ‘How do you do, how do you do? where
are you going, old tree? Come here, come here.’ ‘_Lah-kee-hoon! lali
kee-hoon! natoh, catogh!_’ (‘A canoe, a canoe! see the paddle!!’) In
a moment the songs were stopped! the lights were out—the village in
an instant was in darkness, and dogs were muzzled! and nimbly did our
paddles ply the water, till spy-glass told us at morning’s dawn, that
the bank and boundless prairies of grass and green that were all around
us, were free from following footsteps of friend or foe. A sleepless
night had passed, and lightly tripped our bark, and swift, over the
swimming tide during _that_ day; which was one, not of pleasure, but
of trembling excitement; while our eyes were continually scanning the
distant scenes that were behind us, and our muscles throwing us forward
with tireless energy. * * * * * * * * * Night came upon us again, and
we landed at the foot of a towering bluff, where the musquitoes met us
with ten thousand kicks and cuffs, and importunities, until we were
choked and strangled into almost irrevocable despair and madness.[32]
“A ‘_snaggy bend_’ announced its vicinity just below us by its roaring;
and hovering night told us, that we could not with safety ‘undertake
it.’
“The only direful alternative was now in full possession of us, (I am
not going to tell the ‘_story_’ _yet_), for just below us was a stately
bluff of 200 feet in height, rising out of the water, at an angle of
forty-five degrees, entirely denuded in front, and constituted of clay.
‘Montons, montons!’ said Ba’tiste, as he hastily clambered up its
steep inclined plane on his hands and feet, over its parched surface,
which had been dried in the sun, ‘essayez vous, essayez! ce’n’est pas
difficile Monsr. Cataline,’ exclaimed he, from an elevation of about
100 feet from the water, where he had found a level platform, of some
ten or fifteen feet in diameter, and stood at its brink, waving his
hand over the twilight landscape that lay in partial obscurity beneath
him.
“‘Nous avons ici une belle place pour for to get some _slips_, some
_coot slips_, vare de dam Riccaree et de dam muskeet shall nevare get
si haut, by Gar! montez, montez en haut.’
“Bogard and I took our buffalo robes and our rifles, and with
difficulty hung and clung along in the crevices with fingers and
toes, until we reached the spot. We found ourselves about half-way
up the precipice, which continued almost perpendicular above us; and
within a few yards of us, on each side, it was one unbroken slope
from the bottom to the top. In this snug little nook were we most
appropriately fixed, as we thought, for a warm summer’s night, out of
the reach entirely of musquitoes, and all other earthly obstacles, as
we supposed, to the approaching gratification, for which the toils and
fatigues of the preceding day and night, had so admirably prepared
us. We spread one of our robes, and having ranged ourselves side by
side upon it, and drawn the other one over us, we commenced, without
further delay, upon the pleasurable forgetfulness of toils and dangers
which had agitated us for the past day and night. We had got just
about to that stage of our enjoyment which is almost resistless, and
nearly bidding defiance to every worldly obstrusive obstacle, when the
pattering of rain on our buffalo robes opened our eyes to the dismal
scene that was getting up about us! _My_ head was out, and on the
watch; but the other two skulls were flat upon the ground, and there
chained by the unyielding links of iron slumber. The blackest of all
clouds that ever swept hill tops of grass, of clay, or towering rock,
was hanging about us—its lightning’s glare was incessantly flashing us
to blindness; and the giddy elevation on which we were perched, seemed
to tremble with the roar and jar of distant, and the instant bolts
and cracks of present thunder! The rain poured and fell in torrents
(its not enough); it seemed _floating_ around and above us in waves
succeeding waves, which burst upon the sides of the immense avalanche
of clay that was above, and _slid_ in _sheets_, upon us! Heavens! what
a scene was here. The river beneath us and in distance, with windings
infinite, whitening into silver, and trees, to deathlike paleness, at
the lightning’s flash! All about us was drenched in rain and mud. At
this juncture, poor Ba’tiste was making an effort to raise his head and
shoulders—he was in agony! he had slept himself, and _slipt_ himself
partly from the robe, and his elbows were fastened in the mud.
“‘Oh sacré, ’tis too bad by Gar! we can get some _slips_ nevare.’
“‘Ugh! (replied Yankee Bogard) we shall get ‘slips’ enough directly, by
darn, for we are all afloat, and shall go into the river by and by, in
the twinkling of a goat’s eye, if we don’t look out.’
“We were nearly afloat, sure enough, and our condition growing more
and more dreary every moment, and our only alternative was, to fold up
our nether robe and sit upon it; hanging the other one over our heads,
which formed a roof, and shielded the rain from us. To give compactness
to the _trio_, and bring us into such shape as would enable the robe to
protect us all, we were obliged to put our backs and occiputs together,
and keep our heads from nodding. In this way we were enabled to divide
equally the robe that we sat upon, as well as receive mutual benefit
from the one that was above us. We thus managed to protect ourselves in
the most important points, leaving our feet and legs (from necessity)
to the mercy of mud.
“Thus we were re-encamped. ‘A pretty mess’ (said I), we look like
the ‘three graces;’—‘de tree grace, by Gar!’ said Ba’tiste. ‘Grace!
(whispered Bogard) yes, it’s all _grace_ here; and I believe we’ll all
be buried in _grace_ in less than an hour.’
“‘Monsr. Cataline! excusez my back, si vous plait. Bogard! comment,
comment?—bonne nuit, Messieurs. Oh! mon Dieu, mon Dieu! Je vous rends
grace—je vous prie pour for me sauver ce nuit—delivrez nous! delivrez
nous! Je vous adore, Saint Esprit—la Vierge Marie—oh je vous rends
grace! pour for de m’avoir conservé from de dam Riccree et de diable
muskeet. Eh bien! eh bien!’
“In this miserable and despairing mood poor Ba’tiste dropped off
gradually into a most tremendous sleep, whilst Bogard and I were
holding on to our corners of the robe—recounting over the dangers and
excitements of the day and night past, as well as other scenes of
our adventurous lives, whilst we laid (or rather sat) looking at the
lightning, with our eyes shut. Ba’tiste snored louder and louder, until
sleep had got her strongest grip upon him; and his specific gravity
became so great, that he pitched forward, pulling our corners of the
robe nearly off from our heads, reducing us to the necessity of drawing
upon them till we brought the back of his head in contact with ours,
again, and his body in an erect posture, when he suddenly exclaimed.
“‘Bon jour, Monsr. Bogard: bon jour, Monsr. Cataline; n’est ce pas
morning, pretty near?’
“‘No, its about midnight.’
“‘Quel temps?’
“Why it rains as hard as ever.
“‘Oh diable, I wish I was _tó hell_.’
“‘You may be there yet before morning, by darn.’
“‘Pardón! pardón, Monsr Bogard—I shall not go to night, not _to_ night,
I was joke—mais! dis is not joke, sùppose—oh vengeance! I am slip down
considerable—mais I shall not go to hell quite—I am slip off de seat!’
“‘What! you are sitting in the mud?’
“‘Oui, Bogard, in de muds! mais, I am content, my _head_ is not in
de mud. You see Bogard, I avait been sleep, et I raisee my head
pretty suddain, and keepee my e back e straight, et I am slip off
of de seat. Now, Monsr. Bogard you shall keepee you head straight
and moove————————leet, at de bottom?————————remercie, Bogard,
remercie,————eh bien,——————ah well——————————ha—ha—h——a—by Gar, Bogard,
I have a de good joke. Monsr. Cataline will paintez my likeeness as
I am now look—he will paint us all—I am tink he will make putty coot
view? ha-ha-ha-a——we should see very putty landeescape aboutee de legs,
ha? Ha——ha——h————a——a.’
“Oh, Ba’tiste, for Heaven’s sake stop your laughing and go to sleep;
we’ll talk and laugh about this all day to-morrow.
“‘Pardón, Monsr. Cataline, (excusez) have you got some slips?’
“No, Ba’tiste, I have not been asleep. Bogard has been entertaining me
these two hours whilst you was asleep, with a description of a buffalo
hunt, which took place at the mouth of Yellow Stone, about a year ago.
It must have been altogether a most splendid and thrilling scene, and I
have been paying the strictest attention to it, for I intend to write
it down and send it to New York for the cits to read.”
“‘I like’e dat much, Monsr. Cataline, and I shall take much plaisir
pout vous donner to give déscript of someting, provide you will write
him down, ha?’
“Well Ba’tiste, go on, I am endeavouring to learn everything that’s
curious and entertaining, belonging to this country.
“‘Well Monsr. Cataline, I shall tell you someting very much entertain,
mais, but, you will nevare tell somebody how we have been fix to night?
ha?’
“No, Ba’tiste, most assuredly I shall never mention it nor make
painting of it.
“‘Well, je commence,—diable Bogard! you shall keep your back straight
you must sit up, ou il n’est pas possibe for to keep de robe ovare
all. Je commence, Mons. Cataline, to describe some _Dog Feast_, which
I attend among de dam Pieds noirs. I shall describe some grande,
magnifique ceremonay, and you will write him down?’
“Yes, I’ll put it on paper.
“‘Pardón, pardón, I am get most to slip, I shall tell him to-morrow,
pérhaps I shall————eh bien;—but you will nevare tell how we look, ha!
Monsr. Cataline?’
“No Ba’tiste, I’ll never mention it.
“‘Eh bien————bon nuit.’
“In this condition we sat, and in this manner we nodded away the night,
as far as I recollect of it, catching the broken bits of sleep, (that
were even painful to us when we got them), until the morning’s rays
at length gave us a view of the scene that was around us!! Oh, all ye
brick-makers, ye plasterers, and soft-soap manufacturers! put all your
imaginations in a ferment together, and see if ye can invent a scene
like this! Here _was_ a ‘fix’ to be sure. The sun arose in splendour
and in full, upon this everlasting and boundless scene of ‘_saft
soap_’ and grease, which admitted us not to move. The whole hill was
constituted entirely of tough clay, and on each side and above us there
was no possibility of escape; and one single step over the brink of the
place where we had ascended, would inevitably have launched us into
the river below, the distance of an hundred feet! Here, looking like
hogs just risen from a mud puddle, or a buffalo bull in his wallow,
we sat, (_and had to sit_,) admiring the wide-spread and beautiful
landscape that lay steeping and smoking before us, and our little boat,
that looked like a nutshell beneath us, hanging at the shore; telling
stories and filling up the while with nonsensical garrulity, until
the sun’s warming rays had licked up the mud, and its dried surface,
about eleven o’clock, gave us foothold, when we cautiously, but safely
descended to the bottom; and then, at the last jump, which brought his
feet to _terra firma_, Ba’tiste exclaimed, ‘Well, we have cheatee de
dam muskeet, ha!’”
And this, reader, is not ‘_the story_,’ but one of the little incidents
which stood exactly in the way, and could not well be got over without
a slight notice, being absolutely necessary, as a key, or kind of
glossary, for the proper understanding of the tale that is to be told.
There is _blood_ and _butchery_ in the story that is now to be related;
and it should be read by every one who would form a correct notion of
the force of Indian superstitions.
Three mighty warriors, proud and valiant, licked the dust, and all in
consequence of one of the portraits I painted; and as my brush was the
prime mover of all these misfortunes, and my life was sought to heal
the wound, I must be supposed to be knowing to and familiar with the
whole circumstances, which were as—(I was going to say, as follow) but
my want of time and your want of patience, compel me to break off here,
and I promise to go right on with _the story of the Dog_ in my next
Letter, and I advise the reader not to neglect or overlook it.
[23] This very distinguished old chief, I have learned, died a few
weeks after I painted his portrait.
[24] The reader and traveller who may have this book with him,
should follow the Côteau a few miles to the North of the Quarry,
for the highest elevation and greatest sublimity of view.
[25] I have in former epistles, several times spoken of the red
pipes of the Indians which are found in almost every tribe of
Indians on the Continent; and in every instance have, I venture
to say, been brought from the Côteau des Prairies, inasmuch as no
tribe of Indians that I have yet visited, have ever apprized me
of any other source than this; and the stone from which they are
all manufactured, is of the same character exactly, and different
from any known mineral compound ever yet discovered in any part
of Europe, or other parts of the American Continent. This may be
thought a broad assertion—yet it is one I have ventured to make
(and one I should have had no motive for making, except for the
purpose of eliciting information, if there be any, on a subject
so curious and so exceedingly interesting). In my +Indian Museum+
there can always be seen a great many beautiful specimens of this
mineral selected on the spot, by myself, embracing all of its
numerous varieties; and I challenge the world to produce anything
like it, except it be from the same locality. In a following Letter
will be found a further account of it, and its chemical analysis.
[26] I am aware that this interesting fact may be opposed by
subsequent travellers, who will find nobody but the Sioux upon
this ground, who now claim exclusive right to it; and for the
satisfaction of those who doubt, I refer them to Lewis and Clark’s
Tour thirty-three years since, before the influence of Traders
had deranged the system and truth of things, in these regions. I
have often conversed with General Clark, of St. Louis, on this
subject, and he told me explicitly, and authorized me to say it to
the world, that every tribe on the Missouri told him they had been
to this place, and that the Great Spirit kept the peace amongst
his red children on that ground, where they had smoked with their
enemies.
[27] The medicine (or leaping) rock is a part of the precipice
which has become severed from the main part, standing about seven
or eight feet from the wall, just equal in height, and about seven
feet in diameter.
It stands like an immense column of thirty-five feet high, and
highly polished on its top and sides. It requires a daring effort
to leap on to its top from the main wall, and back again, and many
a heart has sighed for the honour of the feat without daring to
make the attempt. Some few have tried it with success, and left
their arrows standing in its crevice, several of which are seen
there at this time; others have leapt the chasm and fallen from
the slippery surface on which they could not hold, and suffered
instant death upon the craggy rocks below. Every young man in
the nation is ambitious to perform this feat; and those who have
successfully done it are allowed to boast of it all their lives.
In the sketch already exhibited, there will be seen, a view of the
“leaping rock;” and in the middle of the picture, a mound, of a
conical form, of ten feet height, which was erected over the body
of a distinguished young man who was killed by making this daring
effort, about two years before I was there, and whose sad fate was
related to me by a Sioux chief, who was father of the young man,
and was visiting the Red Pipe Stone Quarry, with thirty others of
his tribe, when we were there, and cried over the grave, as he
related the story to Mr. Wood and myself, of his son’s death.
[28] On my return from the Pipe Stone Quarry, one of the old chiefs
of the Sacs, on seeing some specimens of the stone which I brought
with me from that place, observed as follows:—
“My friend, when I was young, I used to go with our young men to
the mountain of the Red Pipe, and dig out pieces for our pipes.
We do not go now; and our red pipes as you see, are few. The
Dah-co-tah’s have spilled the blood of red men on that place, and
the Great Spirit is offended. The white traders have told them to
draw their bows upon us when we go there; and they have offered us
many of the pipes for sale, but we do not want to smoke them, for
we know that the Great Spirit is offended. My mark is on the rocks
in many places, but I shall never see them again. They lie where
the Great Spirit sees them, for his eye is over that place, and he
sees everything that is here.”
Ke-o-kuck chief of the Sacs and Foxes, when I asked him whether he
had ever been there, replied—
“No, I have never seen it; it is in our enemies’ country,—I wish it
was in ours—I would sell it to the whites for a great many boxes of
money.”
[29] Many and strong are the recollections of the Sioux and
other tribes, of their alliance with the British in the last and
revolutionary wars, of which I have met many curious instances,
one of which was correctly reported in the London Globe, from my
Lectures, and I here insert it.—
THE GLOBE AND TRAVELLER.
“_Indian Knowledge of English Affairs_—Mr. Catlin, in one of his
Lectures on the manners and customs of the North American Indians,
during the last week, related a very curious occurrence, which
excited a great deal of surprise and some considerable mirth
amongst his highly respectable and numerous audience. Whilst
speaking of the great and warlike tribe of Sioux or Dahcotas, of
40,000 or 50,000, he stated that many of this tribe, as well as of
several others, although living entirely in the territory of the
United States, and several hundred miles south of her Majesty’s
possessions, were found cherishing a lasting friendship for the
English, whom they denominate Saganosh. And in very many instances
they are to be seen wearing about their necks large silver medals,
with the portrait of George III. in bold relief upon them. These
medals were given to them as badges of merit during the last war
with the United States, when these warriors were employed in the
British service.
“The Lecturer said, that whenever the word Saganosh was used,
it seemed to rouse them at once; that on several occasions when
Englishmen had been in his company as fellow-travellers, they had
marked attentions paid them by these Indians as Saganoshes. And on
one occasion, in one of his last rambles in that country, where
he had painted several portraits in a small village of Dahcotas,
the chief of the band positively refused to sit; alleging as his
objection that the pale faces, who were not to be trusted, might
do some injury to his portrait, and his health or his life might
be affected by it. The painter, as he was about to saddle his
horse for his departure, told the Indian that he was a Saganosh,
and was going across the Big Salt Lake, and was very sorry that
he could not carry the picture of so distinguished a man. At this
intelligence the Indian advanced, and after a hearty grip of the
hand, very carefully and deliberately withdrew from his bosom, and
next to his naked breast, a large silver medal, and turning his
face to the painter, pronounced with great vehemence and emphasis
the word Sag-a-nosh! The artist, supposing that he had thus gained
his point with the Indian Sagamore, was making preparation to
proceed with his work, when the Indian still firmly denied him
the privilege—holding up the face of his Majesty (which had got a
superlative brightness by having been worn for years against his
naked breast), he made this singular and significant speech:—‘When
you cross the Big Salt Lake, tell my Great Father that you saw his
face, and it was bright!’ To this the painter replied, ‘I can never
see your Great Father, he is dead!’ The poor Indian recoiled in
silence, and returned his medal to his bosom, entered his wigwam,
at a few paces distant, where he seated himself amidst his family
around his fire, and deliberately lighting his pipe, passed it
around in silence.
“When it was smoked out he told them the news he had heard, and in
a few moments returned to the traveller again, who was preparing
with his party to mount their horses, and enquired whether the
Saganoshes had no chief. The artist replied in the affirmative,
saying that the present chief of the Saganoshes is a _young_ and
_very beautiful woman_. The Sagamore expressed great surprise and
some incredulity at this unaccountable information; and being
fully assured by the companions of the artist that his assertion
was true, the Indian returned again quite hastily to his wigwam,
called his own and the neighbouring families into his presence, lit
and smoked another pipe, and then communicated the intelligence
to them, to their great surprise and amusement; after which he
walked out to the party about to start off, and advancing to the
painter (or Great Medicine as they called him), with a sarcastic
smile on his face, in due form, and with much grace and effect, he
carefully withdrew again from his bosom the polished silver medal,
and turning the face to the painter, said, ‘Tell my _Great Mother_,
that you saw our Great Father, and that we keep his face bright!’”
[30] This gentleman, the summer previous to this, while I was
in company with him at Prairie du Chien, gave me a very graphic
account of the Red Pipe Stone Quarry, and made for me, from
recollection, a chart of it, which I yet possess, and which was
drawn with great accuracy.
[31] But a few weeks before I left the mouth of Yellow Stone, the
news arrived at that place, that a party of trappers and traders
had burnt two Riccarees to death, on the prairies, and M‘Kenzie
advised me not to stop at the Riccarree village, but to pass them
in the night; and after I had got some hundreds of miles below
them, I learned that they were dancing two white men’s scalps taken
in revenge for that inhuman act.
[32] The greater part of the world can never, I am sure, justly
appreciate the meaning and application of the above sentence,
unless they have an opportunity to encounter a swarm of these
tormenting insects, on the banks of the Missouri or Mississippi
river.
LETTER—No. 55.
RED PIPE STONE QUARRY, _CÔTEAU DES PRAIRIES_.
Well, to proceed with the _Story of the Dog_, which I promised; (after
which I shall record the tale of _Wi-jun-jon_, the pigeon’s egg head),
which was also told by me during the last night, before we retired to
rest.
“I think I said that my little canoe had brought us down the Missouri,
about eight hundred miles below the mouth of Yellow Stone, when we
landed at Laidlaw’s Trading-house, which is twelve hundred miles above
civilization and the city of St. Louis. If I did _not_ say it, it is no
matter, for it was even so; and ‘Ba’tiste and Bogard who had paddled,
and I who had steered,’ threw our little bark out upon the bank, and
taking our paddles in our hands, and our ‘_plunder_’ upon our backs,
crossed the plain to the American Fur Company’s Fort, in charge of Mr.
Laidlaw, who gave us a hearty welcome; and placed us in an instant
at his table, which happened at that moment to be stationed in the
middle of the floor, distributing to its surrounding guests the simple
blessings which belong to that fair and silent land of buffalo-tongues
and beavers’ tails! A bottle of good Madeira wine sprung (à l’instant)
upon the corner of the table, before us, and _swore, point blank_, to
the welcome that was expressed in every feature of our host. After
the usual salutations, the news, and a glass of wine, Mr. Laidlaw
began thus;—“Well, my friend, you have got along well, so far; and
I am glad to see you. You have seen a great many fine Indians since
you left here, and have, no doubt, procured many interesting and
valuable _portraits_; but there has been a deal of trouble about the
‘_pictures_,’ in this neighbourhood, since you went away. Of course,
you have heard nothing of it at the Yellow Stone; but amongst us, I
assure you, there has not a day passed since you left, without some
fuss or excitement about the portraits. The ‘Dog’ is not yet dead,
though he has been shot at several times, and had his left arm broken.
The ‘Little _Bear’s_’ friends have overtaken the brother of the Dog,
that fine fellow whom you painted, and killed him! They are now
sensible that they have sacrificed one of the best men in the nation,
for one of the greatest rascals; and they are more desperately bent on
revenge than ever. They have made frequent enquiries for you, knowing
that you had gone up the river; alleging that you had been the cause of
these deaths, and that if the Dog could not be found, they should look
to you for a settlement of that unfortunate affair!
“‘That unlucky business, taken altogether, has been the greatest piece
of _medicine_ (mystery), and created the greatest excitement amongst
the Sioux, of anything that has happened since I came into the country.
My dear Sir, you must not continue your voyage down the river, in
your unprotected condition. A large party of the ‘Little Bear’s’ band,
are now encamped on the river below, and for you to stop there (which
you might be obliged to do), would be to endanger your life.’” * * *
Reader, sit still, and let me change ends with my story, (which is done
in one moment,) and then, from a relation of the circumstances which
elicited the friendly advice and caution of Mr. Laidlaw just mentioned,
you will be better enabled to understand the nature of the bloody
affair which I am undertaking to relate.
“About four months previous to the moment I am now speaking of, I had
passed up the Missouri river by this place, on the steam-boat Yellow
Stone, on which I ascended the Missouri to the mouth of Yellow Stone
river. While going up, this boat, having on board the United States
Indian agent, Major Sanford—Messrs. Pierre, Chouteau, McKenzie of
the American Fur Company, and myself, as passengers, stopped at this
trading-post, and remained several weeks; where were assembled six
hundred families of Sioux Indians, their tents being pitched in close
order on an extensive prairie on the bank of the river.
“This trading-post, in charge of Mr. Laidlaw, is the concentrating
place, and principal trading depôt, for this powerful tribe, who
number, when all taken together, something like forty or fifty
thousand. On this occasion, five or six thousand had assembled to
see the steam-boat and meet the Indian agent, which, and whom they
knew were to arrive about this time. During the few weeks that we
remained there, I was busily engaged painting my portraits, for
here were assembled the principal chiefs and _medicine-men_ of the
nation. To these people, the operations of my brush were entirely new
and unaccountable, and excited amongst them the greatest curiosity
imaginable. Every thing else (even the steam-boat) was abandoned
for the pleasure of crowding into my painting-room, and witnessing
the result of each fellow’s success, as he came out from under the
operation of my brush.
“They had been at first much afraid of the consequences that might flow
from so strange and unaccountable an operation; but having been made to
understand my views, they began to look upon it as a great _honour_,
and afforded me the opportunities that I desired; exhibiting the utmost
degree of vanity for their appearance, both as to features and dress.
The consequence was, that my room was filled with the chiefs who sat
around, arranged according to the rank or grade which they held in
the estimation of their tribe; and in this order it became necessary
for me to paint them, to the exclusion of those who never signalized
themselves, and were without any distinguishing character in society.
“The first man on the list, was _Ha-wan-ghee-ta_ (one horn), head chief
of the nation, of whom I have heretofore spoken; and after him the
subordinate chiefs, or chiefs of bands, according to the estimation in
which they were held by the chief and the tribe. My models were thus
_placed_ before me, whether ugly or beautiful, all the same, and I
saw at once there was to be trouble somewhere, as I could not paint
them all. The medicine-men or high priests, who are esteemed by many
the oracles of the nation, and the most important men in it—becoming
jealous, commenced their harangues, outside of the lodge, telling them
that they were all fools—that those who were painted would soon die in
consequence; and that these pictures, which had life to a considerable
degree in them, would live in the hands of white men after they were
dead, and make them sleepless and endless trouble.
“Those whom I had painted, though evidently somewhat alarmed, were
unwilling to acknowledge it, and those whom I had not painted,
unwilling to be outdone in courage, allowed me the privilege; braving
and defying the danger that they were evidently more or less in dread
of. Feuds began to arise too, among some of the chiefs of the different
bands, who (not unlike some instances amongst the chiefs and warriors
of our own country), had looked upon their rival chiefs with unsleeping
jealousy, until it had grown into disrespect and enmity. An instance of
this kind presented itself at this critical juncture, in this assembly
of inflammable spirits, which changed in a moment, its features, from
the free and jocular garrulity of an Indian levee, to the frightful
yells and agitated treads and starts of an Indian battle! I had in
progress at this time a portrait of _Mah-to-tchee-ga_ (little bear);
of the _Onc-pa-pa band_, a noble fine fellow, who was sitting before
me as I was painting (+plate+ 273). I was painting almost a profile
view of his face, throwing a part of it into shadow, and had it nearly
finished, when an Indian by the name of _Shon-ka_ (the dog), chief
of the _Caz-a-zshee-ta_ band (+plate+ 275); an ill-natured and surly
man—despised by the chiefs of every other band, entered the wigwam in
a sullen mood, and seated himself on the floor in front of my sitter,
where he could have a full view of the picture in its operation. After
sitting a while with his arms folded, and his lips stiffly arched with
contempt; he sneeringly spoke thus:—
‘_Mah-to-tchee-ga_ is but _half a man_.’ * * * * * * “Dead silence
ensued for a moment, and nought was in motion save the eyes of the
chiefs, who were seated around the room, and darting their glances
about upon each other in listless anxiety to hear the sequel that was
to follow! During this interval, the eyes of Mah-to-tchee-ga had not
moved—his lips became slightly curved, and he pleasantly asked, in low
and steady accent, ‘Who says that?’ ‘_Shon-ka_ says it,’ was the reply;
‘and _Shon-ka_ can prove it.’ At this the eyes of Mah-to-tchee-ga,
which had not yet moved, began steadily to turn, and slow, as if upon
pivots, and when they were rolled out of their sockets till they had
fixed upon the object of their contempt; his dark and jutting brows
were shoving down in trembling contention, with the blazing rays that
were actually _burning_ with contempt, the object that was before them.
‘_Why_ does Shon-ka say it?’
“‘Ask _We-chash-a-wa-kon_ (the painter), he can tell you; he knows you
are but _half a man_—he has painted but one half of your face, and
knows the other half is good for nothing!’
[Illustration: 273]
[Illustration: 274]
[Illustration: 275]
“‘Let the _painter_ say it, and I will believe it; but when the Dog
says it let him _prove_ it.’
“‘_Shon-ka_ said it, and _Shon-ka_ can prove it; if _Mah-to-tchee-ga_
be a man, and wants to be honoured by the white men, let him not be
ashamed; but let him do as _Shon-ka_ has done, give the white man a
horse, and then let him see the _whole of your face_ without being
ashamed.’
“‘When _Mah-to-tchee-ga_ kills a white man and _steals_ his horses, he
may be ashamed to look at a white man until he brings him a horse! When
_Mah-to-tchee-ga_ waylays and murders an honourable and a brave Sioux,
because he is a coward and not brave enough to meet him in fair combat,
_then_ he may be ashamed to look at a white man till he has given him a
horse! _Mah-to-tchee-ga_ can look at any one; and he is now looking at
an _old woman_ and a _coward_!’
“This repartee, which had lasted for a few minutes, to the amusement
and excitement of the chiefs, being ended thus:—The Dog rose suddenly
from the ground, and wrapping himself in his robe, left the wigwam,
considerably agitated, having the laugh of all the chiefs upon him.
“The Little Bear had followed him with his piercing eyes until he left
the door, and then pleasantly and unmoved, resumed his position, where
he sat a few minutes longer, until the portrait was completed. He then
rose, and in the most graceful and gentlemanly manner, presented to me
a very beautiful shirt of buckskin, richly garnished with quills of
the porcupine, fringed with scalp-locks (honourable memorials) from
his enemies’ heads, and painted, with all his battles emblazoned on
it. He then left my wigwam, and a few steps brought him to the door
of his own, where the Dog intercepted him, and asked, ‘What meant
_Mah-to-tchee-ga_ by the last words that he spoke to _Shon-ka_?’
‘_Mah-to-tchee-ga_ said it, and _Shon-ka_ is not a fool—that is
enough.’ At this the Dog walked violently to his own lodge; and the
Little Bear retreated into his, both knowing from looks and gestures
what was about to be the consequence of their altercation.
“The Little Bear instantly charged his gun, and then (as their custom
is) threw himself upon his face, in humble supplication to the Great
Spirit for his aid and protection. His wife, in the meantime, seeing
him agitated, and fearing some evil consequences, without knowing
anything of the preliminaries, secretly withdrew the bullet from his
gun, and told him not of it.
“The Dog’s voice, at this moment, was heard, and recognized at the door
of Mah-to-tchee-ga’s lodge,—‘If Mah-to-tchee-ga be a _whole_ man, let
him come out and prove it; it is _Shon-ka_ that calls him!’
“His wife screamed; but it was too late. The gun was in his hand, and
he sprang out of the door—both drew and simultaneously fired! The Dog
fled uninjured; but the Little Bear lay weltering in his blood (strange
to say!) with all that side of his face entirely shot away, which had
been left out of the picture; and, according to the prediction of the
Dog, ‘_good for nothing_;’ carrying away one half of the jaws, and
the flesh from the nostrils and corner of the mouth, to the ear,
including one eye, and leaving the jugular vein entirely exposed. Here
was a ‘coup;’ and anyone accustomed to the thrilling excitement that
such scenes produce in an Indian village, can form _some_ idea of the
frightful agitation amidst several thousand Indians, who were divided
into jealous bands or clans, under ambitious and rival chiefs! In one
minute, a thousand guns and bows were seized! A thousand thrilling
yells were raised; and many were the fierce and darting warriors who
sallied round the Dog for his protection—he fled amidst a shower of
bullets and arrows; but his braves were about him! The blood of the
_Onc-pa-pas_ was roused, and the indignant braves of that gallant band
rushed forth from all quarters, and, swift upon their heels, were hot
for vengeance! On the plain, and in full view of us, for some time, the
whizzing arrows flew, and so did bullets, until the Dog and his brave
followers were lost in distance on the prairie! In this rencontre, the
Dog had his left arm broken; but succeeded, at length, in making his
escape.
“On the next day after this affair took place, the Little Bear died of
his wound, and was buried amidst the most pitiful and heart-rending
cries of his distracted wife, whose grief was inconsolable at the
thought of having been herself the immediate and innocent cause of his
death, by depriving him of his supposed protection.
“This marvellous and fatal transaction was soon talked through the
village, and the eyes of all this superstitious multitude were fixed
upon me as the cause of the calamity—my paintings and brushes were
instantly packed, and all hands, both Traders and Travellers, assumed
at once a posture of defence.
“I evaded, no doubt, in a great measure, the concentration of their
immediate censure upon me, by expressions of great condolence, and
by distributing liberal presents to the wife and relations of the
deceased; and by uniting also with Mr. Laidlaw and the other gentlemen,
in giving him honourable burial, where we placed over his grave a
handsome Sioux lodge, and hung a white flag to wave over it.
“On this occasion, many were the tears that were shed for the brave
and honourable Mah-to-tchee-ga, and all the warriors of his band swore
sleepless vengeance on the Dog, until his life should answer for the
loss of their chief and leader.
“On the day that he was buried, I started for the mouth of Yellow
Stone, and while I was gone, the spirit of vengeance had pervaded
nearly all the Sioux country in search of the Dog, who had evaded
pursuit. His brother, however (+plate+ 274), a noble and honourable
fellow, esteemed by all who knew him, fell in their way in an unlucky
hour, when their thirst for vengeance was irresistible, and they
slew him. Repentance deep, and grief were the result of so rash an
act, when they beheld a brave and worthy man fall for so worthless a
character; and as they became exasperated, the spirit of revenge grew
more desperate than ever, and they swore they never would lay down
their arms or embrace their wives and children until vengeance, full
and complete, should light upon the head that deserved it. This brings
us again to the first part of my story, and in this state were things
in that part of the country, when I was descending the river, four
months afterwards, and landed my canoe as I before stated, at Laidlaw’s
trading-house.
“The excitement had been kept up all summer amongst these people, and
their superstitions bloated to the full brim, from circumstances so
well calculated to feed and increase them. Many of them looked to me at
once as the author of all these disasters, considering I knew that one
half of the man’s face was _good for nothing_, or that I would not have
left it out of the picture, and that I must therefore have foreknown
the evils that were to flow from the omission; they consequently
resolved that I was a dangerous man, and should suffer for my temerity
in case the Dog could not be found. Councils had been held, and in all
the solemnity of Indian _medicine_ and _mystery_, I had been doomed to
die! At one of these, a young warrior of the _Onc-pa-pa_ band, arose
and said, ‘The blood of two chiefs has just sunk into the ground, and
an hundred bows are bent which are ready to shed more! on whom shall
we bend them? I am a friend to the white men, but here is one whose
medicine is too great—he is a great _medicine-man_! his _medicine_ is
too great! he was the death of Mah-to-tchee-ga! he made only one side
of his face! he would not make the other—the side that he made was
alive; the other was dead, and Shon-ka shot it off! How is this? Who is
to die.’
“After him, _Tah-zee-kee-da-cha_ (torn belly), of the _Yankton_ band,
arose and said—‘Father, this medicine-man has done much harm! You told
our chiefs and warriors, that they must be painted—you said he was a
good man, and we believed you!—you thought so, my father, but you see
what he has done!—he looks at our chiefs and our women and then makes
them alive!! In this way he has taken our chiefs away, and he can
trouble their spirits when they are dead!—they will be unhappy. If he
can make them alive by looking at them, he can do us much harm!—you
tell us that they are not alive—we see their eyes move!—their eyes
follow us wherever we go, that is enough! I have no more to say!’ After
him, rose a young man of the Onc-pa-pa band ‘Father! you know that I am
the brother of _Mah-to-tchee-ga_!—-you know that I loved him—both sides
of his face were good, and the medicine-man knew it also! Why was half
of his face left out? He never was ashamed, but always looked white man
in the face! Why was that side of his face shot off? Your friend is not
our friend, and has forfeited his life—we want you to tell us where he
is—we want to see him!’
“Then rose Toh-ki-e-to (a _medicine-man_ of the Yankton band, and
principal orator of the nation.) ‘My friend, these are young men that
speak—I am not afraid! your white medicine-man painted my picture, and
it was good—I am glad of it—I am very glad to see that I shall live
after I am dead!—I am old and not afraid!—some of our young men are
foolish I know that this man _put many of our buffaloes in his book_!
for I was with him, and we have had no buffaloes since to eat, it is
true—but I am not afraid!! _his medicine_ is great and I wish him
well—we are friends!’
“In this wise was the subject discussed by these superstitious
people during my absence, and such were the reasons given by my
friend Mr. Laidlaw, for his friendly advice; wherein he cautioned me
against exposing my life in their hands, advising me to take some
other route than that which I was pursuing down the river, where I
would find encamped at the mouth of Cabri river, eighty miles below,
several hundred Indians belonging to the Little Bear’s band, and I
might possibly fall a victim to their unsatiated revenge. I resumed
my downward voyage in a few days, however, with my little canoe,
which ‘Ba’tiste and Bogard paddled and I steered,’ and passed their
encampment in peace, by taking the opposite shore. The usual friendly
invitation however, was given (which is customary on that river), by
skipping several rifle bullets across the river, a rod or two ahead
of us. To those invitations we paid no attention, and (not suspecting
who we were), they allowed us to pursue our course in peace and
security. Thus rested the affair of the Dog and its consequences, until
I conversed with Major Bean, the agent for these people, who arrived
in St. Louis some weeks after I did, bringing later intelligence from
them, assuring me that ‘_the Dog had at length been overtaken and
killed_, near the Black-hills, and that the affair might now for ever
be considered as settled.’”
Thus happened, and thus terminated the affair of “the Dog,” wherein
have fallen three distinguished warriors; and wherein _might_ have
fallen one “_great medicine-man_!” and all in consequence of the
operations of my brush. The portraits of the three first named will
long hang in my Gallery for the world to gaze upon; and the head of the
latter (whose hair yet remains on it), may probably be seen (for a time
yet) occasionally stalking about in the midst of this Collection of
Nature’s dignitaries.
The circumstances above detailed, are as correctly given as I could
furnish them! and they have doubtless given birth to one of the most
wonderful traditions, which will be told and sung amongst the Sioux
Indians from age to age; furnishing one of the rarest instances,
perhaps, on record, of the extent to which these people may be carried
by the force of their superstitions.
After I had related this curious and unfortunate affair, I was called
upon to proceed at once with the
+STORY OF WI-JUN-JON (the pigeon’s egg head);+
and I recited it as I first told it to poor Ba’tiste, on a former
occasion, which was as follows:—
“Well, Ba’tiste, I promised last night, as you were going to sleep,
that I would tell you a story this morning—did I not?
“Oui, Monsieur, oui—de ‘Pigeon’s Head.’
“No, Ba’tiste, the ‘Pigeon’s Egg Head.’
“‘Well den, Monsieur Cataline, de ‘Pigeon Egg’s Head.’
“No, Ba’tiste, you have it wrong yet. The Pigeon’s Egg Head.
“‘Sacré—well, ‘_Pee—jonse—ec—head_.’
“Right, Ba’tiste. Now you shall hear the ‘Story of the Pigeon’s Egg
Head.’
“The Indian name of this man (being its literal translation into the
Assinneboin language) was Wi-jun-jon.
“‘Wat! comment! by Gar (pardón); not _Wi-jun-jon_, le frere de ma douce
_Wee-ne-on-ka_, fils du chef Assinneboin? But excusez; go on, s’il vous
plait.’
“_Wi-jun-jon_ (the Pigeon’s Egg Head) was a brave and a warrior of the
Assinneboins—young—proud—handsome—valiant, and graceful. He had fought
many a battle, and won many a laurel. The numerous scalps from his
enemies’ heads adorned his dress, and his claims were fair and just for
the highest honours that his country could bestow upon him; for his
father was chief of the nation.
“Le meme! de same—mon frere—mon ami! Bien, I am composé; go on,
Monsieur.’
“Well, this young Assinneboin, the ‘Pigeon’s Egg Head,’ was selected by
Major Sanford, the Indian Agent, to represent his tribe in a delegation
which visited Washington city under his charge in the winter of 1832.
With this gentleman, the Assinneboin, together with representatives
from several others of those North Western tribes, descended the
Missouri river, several thousand miles, on their way to Washington.
“While descending the river in a Mackinaw boat, from the mouth of
Yellow Stone, Wi-jun-jon and another of his tribe who was with him, at
the first approach to the civilized settlements, commenced a register
of the white men’s houses (or cabins), by cutting a notch for each on
the side of a pipe-stem, in order to be able to shew when they got
home, how many white men’s houses they saw on their journey. At first
the cabins were scarce; but continually as they advanced down the
river, more and more rapidly increased in numbers; and they soon found
their pipe-stem filled with marks, and they determined to put the rest
of them on the handle of a war-club, which they soon got marked all
over likewise; and at length, while the boat was moored at the shore
for the purpose of cooking the dinner of the party, _Wi-jun-jon_ and
his companion stepped into the bushes, and cut a long stick, from which
they peeled the bark; and when the boat was again underweigh, they
sat down, and with much labour, copied the notches on to it from the
pipe-stem and club; and also kept adding a notch for every house they
passed. This stick was soon filled; and in a day or two several others;
when, at last, they seemed much at a loss to know what to do with their
troublesome records, until they came in sight of St. Louis, which is a
town of 15,000 inhabitants; upon which, after consulting a little, they
pitched their sticks overboard into the river!
I was at St. Louis at the time of their arrival, and painted their
portraits while they rested in that place. _Wi-jun-jon_ was the first,
who reluctantly yielded to the solicitations of the Indian agent and
myself, and appeared as sullen as death in my painting-room—with eyes
fixed like those of a statue, upon me, though his pride had plumed
and tinted him in all the freshness and brilliancy of an Indian’s
toilet. In his nature’s uncowering pride he stood a perfect model; but
superstition had hung a lingering curve upon his lip, and pride had
stiffened it into contempt. He had been urged into a measure, against
which his fears had pleaded; yet he stood unmoved and unflinching amid
the struggles of mysteries that were hovering about him, foreboding
ills of every kind, and misfortunes that were to happen to him in
consequence of this operation.
“He was dressed in his native costume, which was classic and
exceedingly beautiful (+plate+ 271); his leggings and shirt were of the
mountain-goat skin, richly garnished with quills of the porcupine, and
fringed with locks of scalps, taken from his enemies’ heads. Over these
floated his long hair in plaits, that fell nearly to the ground; his
head was decked with the war-eagle’s plumes—his robe was of the skin
of the young buffalo bull, richly garnished and emblazoned with the
battles of his life; his quiver and bow were slung, and his shield, of
the skin of the bull’s neck.
“I painted him in this beautiful dress, and so also the others who were
with him; and after I had done, Major Sanford went on to Washington
with them, where they spent the winter.
“_Wi-jun-jon_ was the foremost on all occasions—the first to enter the
levee—the first to shake the President’s hand, and make his speech
to him—the last to extend the hand to them, but the first to catch
the smiles and admiration of the gentler sex. He travelled the giddy
maze, and beheld amid the buzzing din of civil life, their tricks of
art, their handiworks, and their finery; he visited their principal
cities—he saw their forts, their ships, their great guns, steamboats,
balloons, &c. &c.; and in the spring returned to St. Louis, where I
joined him and his companions on their way back to their own country.
“Through the politeness of Mr. Chouteau, of the American Fur Company, I
was admitted (the only passenger except Major Sanford and his Indians)
to a passage in their steamboat, on her first trip to the Yellow Stone;
and when I had embarked, and the boat was about to depart, _Wi-jun-jon_
made his appearance on deck, in a full suit of regimentals! He had in
Washington exchanged his beautifully garnished and classic costume,
for a full dress ‘en militaire’ (see +plate+ 272). It was, perhaps,
presented to him by the President. It was broadcloth, of the finest
blue, trimmed with lace of gold; on his shoulders were mounted two
immense epaulettes; his neck was strangled with a shining black stock,
and his feet were pinioned in a pair of water proof boots, with high
heels, which made him ‘step like a yoked hog.’
“‘Ha-ha-hagh (pardón, Monsieur Cataline, for I am almost laugh)—well,
he was a fine genteman, ha?’
“On his head was a high-crowned beaver hat, with a broad silver lace
band, surmounted by a huge red feather, some two feet, high; his coat
collar stiff with lace, came higher up than his ears, and over it
flowed, down towards his haunches—his long Indian locks, stuck up in
rolls and plaits, with red paint.
“‘Ha-ha-hagh-agh-ah.’
“Hold your tongue, Ba’tiste.
“‘Well, go on—go on.’
‘A large silver medal was suspended from his neck by a blue ribbon—and
across his right shoulder passed a wide belt, supporting by his side a
broad sword.
“‘Diable!’
“On his hands he had drawn a pair of white kid gloves, and in them
held, a blue umbrella in one, and a large fan in the other. In
this fashion was poor Wi-jun-jon metamorphosed, on his return from
Washington; and, in this plight was he strutting and whistling Yankee
Doodle, about the deck of the steamer that was wending its way up the
mighty Missouri, and taking him to his native land again; where he was
soon to light his pipe, and cheer the wigwam fire-side, with tales of
novelty and wonder.
“Well, Ba’tiste, I travelled with this new-fangled gentleman until
he reached his home, two thousand miles above St. Louis, and I could
never look upon him for a moment without excessive laughter, at the
ridiculous figure he cut—the strides, the angles, the stiffness of this
travelling beau! Oh Ba’tiste, if you could have seen him, you would
have split your sides with laughter; he was—‘puss in boots,’ precisely!
“‘By gar, he is good compare! Ha-ha, Monsieur: (pardón) I am laugh: I
am see him wen he is arrive in Yellow Stone; you know I was dere. I am
laugh much wen he is got off de boat, and all de Assinneboins was dere
to look. Oh diable! I am laugh almost to die, I am split!—súppose he
was pretty stiff, ha?—‘cob on spindle,’ ha? Oh, by gar, he is coot pour
laugh—pour rire?’
“After Wi-jun-jon had got home, and passed the usual salutations among
his friends, he commenced the simple narration of scenes he had passed
through, and of things he had beheld among the whites; which appeared
to them so much like fiction, that it was impossible to believe them,
and they set him down as an impostor. ‘He has been, (they said,) among
the whites, who are great liars, and all he has learned is to come home
and tell lies.’ He sank rapidly into disgrace in his tribe; his high
claims to political eminence all vanished; he was reputed worthless—the
greatest, liar of his nation; the chiefs shunned him and passed him
by as one of the tribe who was lost; yet the ears of the gossipping
portion of the tribe were open, and the camp-fire circle and the
wigwam fire-side, gave silent audience to the whispered narratives of
the ‘travelled Indian.’ * * * * *
“The next day after he had arrived among his friends, the superfluous
part of his coat, (which was a laced frock), was converted into
a pair of leggings for his wife; and his hat-band of silver lace
furnished her a magnificent pair of garters. The remainder of the coat,
curtailed of its original length, was seen buttoned upon the shoulders
of his brother, over and above a pair of leggings of buckskin; and
_Wi-jun-jon_ was parading about among his gaping friends, with a bow
and quiver slung over his shoulders, which, _sans coat_, exhibited a
fine linen shirt with studs and sleeve buttons. His broad-sword kept
its place, but about noon, his boots gave way to a pair of garnished
moccasins; and in such plight he gossipped away the day among his
friends, while his heart spoke so freely and so effectually from the
bung-hole of a little keg of whiskey, which he had brought the whole
way, (as one of the choicest presents made him at Washington), that his
tongue became silent.
“One of his little fair enamoratas, or ‘catch crumbs,’ such as live
in the halo of all great men, fixed her eyes and her affections upon
his beautiful silk braces, and the next day, while the keg was yet
dealing out its kindnesses, he was seen paying visits to the lodges
of his old acquaintance, swaggering about, with his keg under his
arm, whistling Yankee Doodle, and Washington’s Grand March; his white
shirt, or that part of it that had been _flapping_ in the wind, had
been shockingly tithed—his pantaloons of blue, laced with gold, were
razed into a pair of comfortable leggings—his bow and quiver were
slung, and his broad-sword which trailed on the ground, had sought the
centre of gravity, and taken a position between his legs, and dragging
behind him, served as a rudder to steer him over the ‘earth’s troubled
surface.’
“‘Ha-hah-hagh————ah——————o——————oo——k, eh bien.’
“Two days’ revel of this kind, had drawn from his keg all its charms;
and in the mellowness of his heart, all his finery had vanished, and
all of its appendages, except his umbrella, to which his heart’s
strongest affections still clung, and with it, and under it, in rude
dress of buckskin, he was afterwards to be seen, in all sorts of
weather, acting the fop and the beau as well as he could, with his
limited means. In this plight, and in this dress, with his umbrella
always in his hand, (as the only remaining evidence of his _quondam_
greatness,) he began in his sober moments, to entertain and instruct
his people, by honest and simple narratives of things and scenes he had
beheld during his tour to the East; but which (unfortunately for him),
were to them too marvellous and improbable to be believed. He told the
gaping multitude, that were constantly gathering about him, of the
distance he had travelled—of the astonishing number of houses he had
seen—of the towns and cities, with all their wealth and splendour—of
travelling on steamboats, in stages, and on railroads. He described
our forts, and seventy-four gun ships, which he had visited—their big
guns—our great bridges—our great council-house at Washington, and its
doings—the curious and wonderful machines in the patent office, (which
he pronounced the _greatest medicine place_ he had seen); he described
the great war parade, which he saw in the city of New York—the ascent
of the balloon from Castle Garden—the numbers of the white people, the
beauty of the white squaws; their red cheeks, and many thousands of
other things, all of which were so much beyond their comprehension,
that they ‘could not be true,’ and ‘he must be the very greatest liar
in the whole world.’[33]
“But he was beginning to acquire a reputation of a different kind. He
was denominated a _medicine-man_, and one too of the most extraordinary
character; for they deemed him far above the ordinary sort of human
beings, whose mind could _invent_ and _conjure_ up for their amusement,
such an ingenious _fabrication_ of novelty and wonder. He steadily and
unostentatiously persisted, however, in this way of entertaining his
friends and his people, though he knew his standing was affected by
it. He had an exhaustless theme to descant upon through the remainder
of his life; and he seemed satisfied to lecture all his life, for the
pleasure which it gave him.
“So great was his _medicine_, however, that they began, chiefs and
all, to look upon him as a most extraordinary being, and the customary
honours and forms began to be applied to him, and the respect
shewn him, that belongs to all men in the Indian country, who are
distinguished for their _medicine_ or _mysteries_. In short, when all
became familiar with the astonishing representations that he made, and
with the wonderful alacrity with which ‘he _created_ them,’ he was
denominated the very greatest of _medicine_; and not only that, but
the ‘_lying medicine_.’ That he should be the greatest of _medicine_,
and that for _lying, merely_, rendered him a prodigy in mysteries that
commanded not only respect, but at length, (when he was more maturely
heard and listened to) admiration, awe, and at last dread and terror;
which altogether must needs conspire to rid the world of a monster,
whose more than human talents must be cut down, to less than human
measurement.
“‘Wat! Monsieur Cataline, dey av not try to kill him?’
“Yes, Ba’tiste, in this way the poor fellow had lived, and been for
three years past continually relating the scenes he had beheld, in
his tour to the ‘_Far East_;’ until his medicine became so alarmingly
great, that they were unwilling he should live; they were disposed
to kill him for a wizard. One of the young men of the tribe took the
duty upon himself, and after much perplexity, hit upon the following
plan, _to-wit_:—he had fully resolved, in conjunction with others who
were in the conspiracy, that the medicine of Wi-jun-jon was too great
for the ordinary mode, and that he was so great a liar that a rifle
bullet would not kill him; while the young man was in this distressing
dilemma, which lasted for some weeks, he had a dream one night, which
solved all difficulties; and in consequence of which, he loitered about
the store in the Fort, at the mouth of the Yellow Stone, until he could
procure, _by stealth_, (according to the injunction of his dream,)
the handle of an iron pot, which he supposed to possess the requisite
virtue, and taking it into the woods, he there spent a whole day in
straightening and filing it, to fit it into the barrel of his gun;
after which, he made his appearance again in the Fort, with his gun
under his robe, charged with the pot handle, and getting behind poor
Wi-jun-jon, whilst he was talking with the Trader, placed the muzzle
behind his head and blew out his brains!
“‘Sacré vengeance! oh, mon Dieu! let me cry—I shall cry always, for
evare—Oh he is not true, I hope? no, Monsieur, no!’
“Yes, Ba’tiste, it is a fact: thus ended the days and the greatness,
and all the pride and hopes of +Wi-jun-jon+, the ‘_Pigeon’s Egg
Head_,’—a warrior and a brave of the valiant Assinneboins, who
travelled eight thousand miles to see the President, and all the great
cities of the civilized world; and who, for telling the _truth_, and
_nothing but the truth_, was, after he got home, disgraced and killed
for a wizard.
“‘Oh, Monsieur Cataline—I am distress—I am sick—I was hope he is not
true—oh I am mortify. Wi-jun-jon was coot Ingin—he was my bruddare—eh
bien—eh bien.’
“Now, my friend Ba’tiste, I see you are distressed, and I regret
exceedingly that it must be so; he was your friend and relative, and I
myself feel sad at the poor fellow’s unhappy and luckless fate; for he
was a handsome, an honest, and a noble Indian.”
“‘C’est vrais. Monsieur, c’est vrai.’
“This man’s death, Ba’tiste, has been a loss to himself, to
his friends, and to the world, but you and I may profit by it,
nevertheless, if we bear it in mind——
“‘Oui! yes, Monsr. mais, suppose, ’tis bad wind dat blows nary way, ha?’
“Yes, Ba’tiste, we may profit by his misfortune, if we choose. We may
call it a ‘caution;’ for instance, when I come to write your book,
as you have proposed, the fate of this poor fellow, who was relating
no more than what he actually saw, will _caution_ you against the
_imprudence of telling all that you actually know_, and narrating all
that you have _seen_, lest like him you sink into disgrace for telling
the truth. You know, Ba’tiste, that there are many things to be seen in
the kind of life that you and I have been living for some years past,
which it would be more prudent for us to suppress than to tell.
“‘Oui, Monsieur. Well, súppose, perhaps I am discourage about de book.
Mais, we shall see, ha?’”
Thus ended the last night’s gossip, and in the cool of this morning,
we bid adieu to the quiet and stillness of this wild place, of which I
have resolved to give a little further account before we take leave of
it.
From the Fall of St. Anthony, my delightful companion (Mr. Wood, whom
I have before mentioned) and myself, with our Indian guide, whose name
was O-kup-pee, tracing the beautiful shores of the St. Peters river,
about eighty miles; crossing it at a place called “_Traverse des
Sioux_,” and recrossing it at another point about thirty miles above
the mouth of “_Terre Bleue_,” from whence we steered in a direction a
little North of West for the “Côteau des Prairies,” leaving the St.
Peters river, and crossing one of the most beautiful prairie countries
in the world, for the distance of one hundred and twenty or thirty
miles, which brought us to the base of the Côteau, where we were joined
by our kind and esteemed companion Monsieur La Fromboise, as I have
before related. This tract of country as well as that along the St.
Peters river, is mostly covered with the richest soil, and furnishes an
abundance of good water, which flows from a thousand living springs.
For many miles we had the Côteau in view in the distance before us,
which looked like a blue cloud settling down in the horizon; and we
were scarcely sensible of the fact, when we had arrived at its base,
from the graceful and almost imperceptible swells with which it
commences its elevation above the country around it. Over these swells
or terraces, gently rising one above the other, we travelled for the
distance of forty or fifty miles, when we at length reached the summit;
and from the base of this mound, to its top, a distance of forty or
fifty miles, there was not a tree or bush to be seen in any direction,
and the ground everywhere was covered with a green turf of grass, about
five or six inches high; and we were assured by our Indian guide,
that it descended to the West, towards the Missouri, with a similar
inclination, and for an equal distance, divested of every thing save
the grass that grows, and the animals that walk upon it.
On the very top of this mound or ridge, we found the far-famed quarry
or fountain of the Red Pipe, which is truly an anomaly in nature
(+plate+ 270). The principal and most striking feature of this
place, is a perpendicular wall of close-grained, compact quartz, of
twenty-five and thirty feet in elevation, running nearly North and
South with its face to the West, exhibiting a front of nearly two
miles in length, when it disappears at both ends by running under the
prairie, which becomes there a little more elevated, and probably
covers it for many miles, both to the North and the South. The
depression of the brow of the ridge at this place has been caused by
the wash of a little stream, produced by several springs on the top,
a little back from the wall; which has gradually carried away the
super-incumbent earth, and having bared the wall for the distance of
two miles, is now left to glide for some distance over a perfectly
level surface of quartz rock; and then to leap from the top of the
wall into a deep basin below, and from thence seek its course to the
Missouri, forming the extreme source of a noted and powerful tributary,
called the “Big Sioux.”
This beautiful wall is horizontal, and stratified in several distinct
layers of light grey, and rose or flesh-coloured quartz; and for most
of the way, both on the front of the wall, and for acres of its
horizontal surface, highly polished or glazed, as if by ignition.
At the base of this wall there is a level prairie, of half a mile in
width, running parallel to it; in any and all parts of which, the
Indians procure the red stone for their pipes, by digging through the
soil and several slaty layers of the red stone, to the depth of four
or five feet.[34] From the very numerous marks of ancient and modern
diggings or excavations, it would appear that this place has been for
many centuries resorted to for the red stone; and from the great number
of graves and remains of ancient fortifications in its vicinity, it
would seem, as well as from their actual traditions, that the Indian
tribes have long held this place in high superstitious estimation; and
also that it has been the resort of different tribes, who have made
their regular pilgrimages here to renew their pipes.
The red pipe stone, I consider, will take its place amongst minerals,
as an interesting subject of itself; and the “Côteau des Prairies” will
become hereafter an important theme for geologists; not only from the
fact that this is the only known locality of that mineral, but from
other phenomena relating to it. The single fact of such a table of
quartz, in horizontal strata, resting on this elevated plateau, is of
itself (in my opinion) a very interesting subject for investigation;
and one which calls upon the scientific world for a correct theory with
regard to the time when, and the manner in which, this formation was
produced. That it is of a secondary character, and of a sedimentary
deposit, seems evident; and that it has withstood the force of the
diluvial current, while the great valley of the Missouri, from this
very wall of rocks to the Rocky Mountains, has been excavated, and
its debris carried to the ocean, there is also not a shadow of doubt;
which opinion I confidently advance on the authority of the following
remarkable facts:
At the base of the wall, and within a few rods of it, and on the very
ground where the Indians dig for the red stone, rests a group of five
stupendous boulders of gneiss, leaning against each other; the smallest
of which is twelve or fifteen feet, and the largest twenty-five feet
in diameter, altogether weighing, unquestionably, several hundred
tons. These blocks are composed chiefly of felspar and mica, of an
exceedingly coarse grain (the felspar often occurring in crystals
of an inch in diameter). The surface of these boulders is in every
part covered with a grey moss, which gives them an extremely ancient
and venerable appearance, and their sides and angles are rounded by
attrition, to the shape and character of most other erratic stones,
which are found throughout the country. It is under these blocks that
the two holes, or ovens are seen, in which, according to the Indian
superstition, the two old women, the guardian spirits of the place,
reside; of whom I have before spoken.
That these five immense blocks, of precisely the same character, and
differing materially from all other specimens of boulders which I have
seen in the great vallies of the Mississippi and Missouri, should have
been hurled some hundreds of miles from their native bed, and lodged in
so singular a group on this elevated ridge, is truly matter of surprise
for the scientific world, as well as for the poor Indian, whose
superstitious veneration of them is such, that not a spear of grass is
broken or bent by his feet, within three or four rods of them, where
he stops, and in humble supplication, by throwing plugs of tobacco
to them, solicits permission to dig and carry away the red stone for
his pipes. The surface of these boulders are in every part entire and
unscratched by anything; wearing the moss everywhere unbroken, except
where I applied the hammer, to obtain some small specimens, which I
shall bring away with me.
The fact alone, that these blocks differ in character from all other
specimens which I have seen in my travels, amongst the thousands of
boulders which are strewed over the great valley of the Missouri and
Mississippi, from the Yellow Stone almost to the Gulf of Mexico, raises
in my mind an unanswerable question, as regards the location of their
native bed, and the means by which they have reached their isolated
position; like five brothers, leaning against and supporting each
other, without the existence of another boulder within many miles of
them. There are thousands and tens of thousands of boulders scattered
over the prairies, at the base of the Côteau on either side; and so
throughout the valley of the St. Peters and Mississippi, which are also
subjects of very great interest and importance to science, inasmuch as
they present to the world, a vast variety of characters; and each one,
though strayed away from its original position, bears incontestable
proof of the character of its native bed. The tract of country lying
between the St. Peters river and the Côteau, over which we passed,
presents innumerable specimens of this kind; and near the base of
the Côteau they are strewed over the prairie in countless numbers,
presenting almost an incredible variety of rich, and beautiful colours;
and undoubtedly traceable, (if they can be traced), to separate and
distinct beds.
Amongst these beautiful groups, it was sometimes a very easy matter
to sit on my horse and count within my sight, some twenty or thirty
different varieties, of quartz and granite, in rounded boulders, of
every hue and colour, from snow white to intense red, and yellow,
and blue, and almost to a jet black; each one well characterized and
evidently from a distinct quarry. With the beautiful hues and almost
endless characters of these blocks, I became completely surprised and
charmed; and I resolved to procure specimens of every variety, which
I did with success, by dismounting from my horse, and breaking small
bits from them with my hammer; until I had something like an hundred
different varieties, containing all the tints and colours of a
painter’s palette. These, I at length threw away, as I had on several
former occasions, other minerals and fossils, which I had collected and
lugged along from day to day, and sometimes from week to week.
Whether these varieties of quartz and granite can all be traced to
their native beds, or whether they all have origins at this time
exposed above the earth’s surface, are equally matters of much doubt in
my mind. I believe that the geologist may take the different varieties,
which he may gather at the base of the Côteau in one hour, and travel
the Continent of North America all over without being enabled to put
them all in place; coming at last to the unavoidable conclusion, that
numerous chains or beds of primitive rocks have reared their heads on
this Continent, the summits of which have been swept away by the force
of diluvial currents, and their fragments jostled together and strewed
about, like foreigners in a strange land, over the great vallies of the
Mississippi and Missouri, where they will ever remain, and be gazed
upon by the traveller, as the only remaining evidence of their native
beds, which have again submerged or been covered with diluvial deposits.
There seems not to be, either on the Côteau or in the great vallies on
either side, so far as I have travelled, any slaty or other formation
exposed above the surface on which grooves or scratches can be seen, to
establish the direction of the diluvial currents in those regions; yet
I think the fact is pretty clearly established by the general shapes of
the vallies, and the courses of the mountain ridges which wall them in
on their sides.
The Côteau des Prairies is the dividing ridge between the St. Peters
and Missouri rivers; its southern termination or slope is about in the
latitude of the Fall of St. Anthony, and it stands equi-distant between
the two rivers; its general course bearing two or three degrees West of
North for the distance of two or three hundred miles, when it gradually
slopes again to the North, throwing out from its base the head-waters
and tributaries of the St. Peters, on the East. The Red River, and
other streams, which empty into Hudson’s Bay, on the North; La Riviere
Jaque and several other tributaries to the Missouri, on the West; and
the Red Cedar, the Ioway and the Des Moines, on the South.
This wonderful feature, which is several hundred miles in length, and
varying from fifty to a hundred in width, is, perhaps, the noblest
mound of its kind in the world; it gradually and gracefully rises on
each side, by swell after swell, without tree, or bush or rock (save
what are to be seen in the vicinity of the Pipe Stone Quarry), and
everywhere covered with green grass, affording the traveller, from its
highest elevations, the most unbounded and sublime views——of nothing at
all——save the blue and boundless ocean of prairies that lie beneath and
all around him, vanishing into azure in the distance without a speck or
spot to break their softness.
The direction of this ridge, I consider, pretty clearly establishes the
course of the diluvial current in this region, and the erratic stones
which are distributed along its base, I attribute to an origin several
hundred miles North West from the Côteau. I have not myself traced
the Côteau to its highest points, nor to its Northern extremity; but
it has been a subject, on which I have closely questioned a number of
traders, who have traversed every mile of it with their carts, and from
thence to Lake Winnepeg on the North, who uniformly tell me, that there
is no range of primitive rocks to be crossed in travelling the whole
distance, which is one connected and continuous prairie.
The top and sides of the Côteau are everywhere strewed over the surface
with granitic sand and pebbles, which, together with the fact of the
five boulders resting at the Pipe Stone Quarry, shew clearly that every
part of the ridge has been subject to the action of these currents,
which could not have run counter to it, without having disfigured or
deranged its beautiful symmetry.
The glazed or polished surface of the quartz rocks at the Pipe Stone
Quarry, I consider a very interesting subject, and one which will
excite hereafter a variety of theories, as to the manner in which it
has been produced, and the causes which have led to such singular
results. The quartz is of a close grain, and exceedingly hard,
eliciting the most brilliant spark from steel; and in most places,
where exposed to the sun and the air, has a high polish on its
surface, entirely beyond any results which could have been produced by
diluvial action, being perfectly glazed as if by ignition. I was not
sufficiently particular in my examinations to ascertain whether any
parts of the surface of these rocks under the ground, and not exposed
to the action of the air, were thus affected, which would afford an
important argument in forming a correct theory with regard to it; and
it may also be a fact of similar importance, that this polish does not
extend over the whole wall or area; but is distributed over it in parts
and sections, often disappearing suddenly, and reappearing again, even
where the character and exposure of the rock is the same and unbroken.
In general, the parts and points most projecting and exposed, bear
the highest polish, which would naturally be the case whether it was
produced by ignition, or by the action of the air and sun. It would
seem almost an impossibility, that the air passing these projections
for a series of centuries, could have produced so high a polish on so
hard a substance; and it seems equally unaccountable, that this effect
could have been produced in the other way, in the total absence of all
igneous matter.
I have broken off specimens and brought them home, which certainly bear
as high a polish and lustre on the surface, as a piece of melted glass;
and then as these rocks have undoubtedly been formed where they now
lie, it must be admitted, that this strange effect on their surface has
been produced either by the action of the air and sun, or by igneous
influence; and if by the latter course, there is no other conclusion we
can come to, than that these results are volcanic; that this wall has
once formed the side of a crater, and that the Pipe Stone, laving in
horizontal strata, is formed of the lava which has issued from it. I
am strongly inclined to believe, however, that the former supposition
is the correct one; and that the Pipe Stone, which differs from all
known specimens of lava, is a new variety of _steatite_, and will be
found to be a subject of great interest and one worthy of a careful
analysis.[35]
With such notes and such memorandums on this shorn land, whose quiet
and silence are only broken by the winds and the thunders of Heaven, I
close my note-book, and we this morning saddle our horses; and after
wending our way to the “Thunders’ Nest” and the “Stone-man Medicine,”
we shall descend into the valley of the St. Peters, and from that to
the regions of civilization; from whence, if I can get there, you will
hear of me again. Adieu.
[Illustration: 271 272]
[Illustration: 273 274 275]
[Illustration: 276]
[Illustration: 277]
[33] Most unfortunately for this poor fellow, the other one of his
tribe, who travelled with him, and could have borne testimony to
the truth of his statements, died of the quinsey on his way home.
[34] From the very many excavations recently and anciently made,
I could discover that these layers varied very much, in their
thickness in different parts; and that in some places they were
overlaid with four or five feet of rock, similar to, and in fact a
part of, the lower stratum of the wall.
[35] In Silliman’s American Journal of Science, Vol. xxxvii., p.
394, will be seen the following analysis of this mineral, made by
Dr. Jackson of Boston, one of our best mineralogists and chemists;
to whom I sent some specimens for the purpose, and who pronounced
it, “_a new mineral compound, not steatite, is harder than gypsum,
and softer than carbonate of lime_.”
_Chemical Analysis of the Red Pipe Stone_, brought by George
Catlin, from the Côteau des Prairies, in 1836:
Water 8.4
Silica 48.2
Alumina 28.2
Magnesia 6.0
Carbonate of lime 2.6
Peroxide of iron 5.0
Oxide of manganése 0.6
—————
99.0
—————
Loss (probably magnesia) 1.0
—————
100.0
—————
+Note.+—All the varieties of this beautiful mineral, may at all
times be seen in the +Indian Museum+; and by the curious, specimens
may be obtained for any further experiments.
LETTER—No. 56.
ROCK ISLAND, _UPPER MISSISSIPPI_.
It will be seen by this, that I am again wending my way towards home.
Our neat little “dug out,” by the aid of our paddles, has at length
brought my travelling companion and myself in safety to this place,
where we found the river, the shores, and the plains contiguous, alive
and vivid with plumes, with spears, and war-clubs of the yelling red
men.
We had heard that the whole nation of Sacs and Foxes were to meet
Governor Dodge here in treaty at this time, and nerve was given
liberally to our paddles, which had brought us from Traverse de Sioux,
on the St. Peters river; and we reached here luckily in time to see the
parades and forms of a savage community, transferring the rights and
immunities of their natural soil, to the insatiable grasp of pale faced
voracity.
After having glutted our curiosity at the fountain of the Red Pipe, our
horses brought us to the base of the Côteau, and then over the extended
plain that lies between that and the Traverse de Sioux, on the St.
Peters with about five days’ travel.
In this distance we passed some of the loveliest prairie country in
the world, and I made a number of sketches—“_Laque du Cygne_, Swan
Lake,” (+plate+ 276), was a peculiar and lovely scene, extending for
many miles, and filled with innumerable small islands covered with a
profusion of rich forest trees. +Plate+ 277, exhibits the Indian mode
of taking muskrats, which dwell in immense numbers in these northern
prairies, and build their burrows in shoal water, of the stalks of
the wild rice. They are built up something of the size and form of
haycocks, having a dry chamber in the top, where the animal sleeps
above water, passing in and out through a hole beneath the water’s
surface. The skins of these animals are sought by the Traders, for
their fur, and they constitute the staple of all these regions, being
caught in immense numbers by the Indians, and vended to the Fur
Traders. The mode of taking them is seen in the drawing; the women,
children and dogs attend to the little encampments, while the men wade
to their houses or burrows, and one strikes on the backs of them, as
the other takes the inhabitants in a rapid manner with a spear, while
they are escaping from them.
+Plate+ 278, is a party of Sioux, in bark canoes (purchased of the
Chippeways), gathering the wild rice, which grows in immense fields
around the shores of the rivers and lakes of these northern regions,
and used by the Indians as an useful article of food. The mode of
gathering it is curious, and as seen in the drawing—one woman paddles
the canoe, whilst another, with a stick in each hand, bends the rice
over the canoe with one, and strikes it with the other, which shells it
into the canoe, which is constantly moving along until it is filled.
+Plate+ 279, is a representation of one of the many lovely prairie
scenes we passed on the banks of the St. Peters river, near the
Traverse de Sioux.
Whilst traversing this beautiful region of country, we passed the bands
of Sioux, who had made us so much trouble on our way to the Red Pipe,
but met with no further molestation.
At the Traverse de Sioux, our horses were left, and we committed our
bodies and little travelling conveniences to the narrow compass of
a modest canoe, that must most evidently have been dug out from the
_wrong side of the log_—that required _us_ and everything in it, to be
exactly in the bottom—and then, to look straight forward, and speak
from the _middle_ of our _mouths_, or it was “_t’other side up_” in an
instant. In this way embarked, with our paddles used as balance poles
and propellers (after drilling awhile in shoal water till we could “get
the hang of it”), we started off, upon the bosom of the St. Peters,
for the Fall of St. Anthony. * * * * * * Sans accident we arrived, at
ten o’clock at night of the second day—and sans steamer (which we were
in hopes to meet), we were obliged to trust to our little tremulous
craft to carry us through the windings of the mighty Mississippi and
Lake Pepin, to Prairie du Chien, a distance of 400 miles, which I had
travelled last summer in the same manner.
“Oh the drudgery and toil of paddling our little canoe from this to
Prairie du Chien, we never can do it, Catlin.”
“Ah well, never mind, my dear fellow—we _must_ ‘go it’—there is no
other way. But think of the pleasure of such a trip, ha? Our guns and
our fishing-tackle will we have in good order, and be masters of our
own boat—we can shove it into every nook and crevice; explore the
caves in the rocks; ascend ‘_Mount Strombolo_,’ and linger along the
pebbly shores of Lake Pepin, to our hearts’ content.” “Well, I am
perfectly agreed; that’s fine, by Jupiter, that’s what I shall relish
exactly; we will have our own fun, and a truce to the labour and time;
let’s haste and be off.” So we catered for our voyage, shook hands
with our friends, and were again balancing our skittish bark upon
the green waters of the Mississippi. We encamped (as I had done the
summer before), along its lonely banks, whose only music is the echoing
war-song that rises from the glimmering camp-fire of the retiring
savage, or the cries of the famishing wolf that sits and bitterly weeps
out in tremulous tones, his impatience for the crumbs that are to fall
to his lot.
[Illustration: 278]
[Illustration: 279]
Oh! but we enjoyed those moments, (did we not, Wood? I would ask you,
in any part of the world, where circumstances shall throw this in your
way) those nights of our voyage, which ended days of peril and fatigue;
when our larder was full, when our coffee was good, our mats spread,
and our musquito bars over us, which admitted the cool and freshness of
night, but screened the dew, and bade defiance to the buzzing thousands
of sharp-billed, winged torturers that were kicking and thumping
for admission. I speak now of _fair weather_, not of the nights of
lightning and of rain! We’ll pass them over. We had all kinds though,
and as we loitered ten days on our way, we examined and experimented
on many things for the benefit of mankind. We drew into our larder
(in addition to bass and wild fowls), clams, snails, frogs, and
rattlesnakes; the latter of which, when properly dressed and broiled,
we found to be the most delicious food of the land.
We were stranded upon the Eastern shore of Lake Pepin, where headwinds
held us three days; and, like solitary Malays or Zealand penguins, we
stalked along and about its pebbly shores till we were tired, before
we could, with security, lay our little trough upon its troubled
surface. When liberated from its wind-bound shores, we busily plied
our paddles, and nimbly sped our way, until we were landed at the
fort of “Mount Strombolo,” (as the soldiers call it), but properly
denominated, in French, _La Montaigne que tromps a l’eau_. We ascended
it without much trouble; and enjoyed from its top, one of the most
magnificent panoramic views that the Western world can furnish; and
I would recommend to the tourist who has time to stop for an hour or
two, to go to its summit, and enjoy with rapture, the splendour of
the scene that lies near and in distance about him. This mountain, or
rather pyramid, is an anomaly in the country, rising as it does, about
seven hundred feet from the water, and washed at its base, all around,
by the river; which divides and runs on each side of it. It is composed
chiefly of rock, and all its strata correspond exactly with those of
the projecting promontories on either side of the river. We at length
arrived safe at Prairie du Chien; which was also sans steamer. We were
moored again, thirty miles below, at the beautiful banks and bluffs of
Cassville; which, too, was _sans steamer_—we dipped our paddles again
———— ———— ———— and ...
We are now six hundred miles below the Fall of St. Anthony, where
steamers daily pass; and we feel, of course, at home. I spoke of
the _Treaty_. We were just in time, and beheld its conclusion. It
was signed yesterday; and this day, of course, is one of revel and
amusements—shows of war-parades and dances. The whole of the Sacs and
Foxes are gathered here, and their appearance is very thrilling, and
at the same time pleasing. These people have sold so much of their
land lately, that they have the luxuries of life to a considerable
degree, and may be considered rich; consequently they look elated and
happy, carrying themselves much above the humbled manner of most of the
semi-civilized tribes, whose heads are hanging and drooping in poverty
and despair.
In a former epistle, I mentioned the interview which I had with
Kee-o-kuk, and the leading men and women of his tribe, when I painted a
number of their portraits and amusements as follow:
_Kee-o-kuk_ (the running fox, +plate+ 280), is the present chief of
the tribe, a dignified and proud man, with a good share of talent,
and vanity enough to force into action all the wit and judgment he
possesses, in order to command the attention and respect of the world.
At the close of the “Black Hawk War” in 1833, which had been waged with
disastrous effects along the frontier, by a Sac chief of that name;
_Kee-o-kuk_ was acknowledged chief of the Sacs and Foxes by General
Scott, who held a Treaty with them at Rock Island. His appointment as
chief, was in consequence of the friendly position he had taken during
the war, holding two-thirds of the warriors neutral, which was no doubt
the cause of the sudden and successful termination of the war, and the
means of saving much bloodshed. Black Hawk and his two sons, as well
as his principal advisers and warriors, were brought into St. Louis in
chains, and _Kee-o-kuk_ appointed chief with the assent of the tribe.
In his portrait I have represented him in the costume, precisely, in
which he was dressed when he stood for it, with his shield on his
arm, and his staff (insignia of office) in his left hand. There is no
Indian chief on the frontier better known at this time, or more highly
appreciated for his eloquence, as a public speaker, than Kee-o-kuk; as
he has repeatedly visited Washington and others of our Atlantic towns,
and made his speeches before thousands, when he has been contending
for his people’s rights, in their stipulations with the United States
Government, for the sale of their lands.
As so much is known of this man, amongst the citizens of the United
States, there is scarcely need of my saying much more of him to them;
but for those who know less of him, I shall say more anon. +Plate+ 281,
is a portrait of the wife of _Kee-o-kuk_, and +plate+ 282, of his
favourite son, whom he intends to be his successor. These portraits
are both painted, also, in the costumes precisely in which they were
dressed. This woman was the favourite one, (I think) of seven, whom
he had living, (_apparently_ quite comfortably and peaceably,) in his
wigwam, where General Street and I visited him in his village on the
Des Moines river. And, although she was the oldest of the “lot,” she
seemed to be the favourite one on this occasion—the only one that could
be painted; on account, I believe, of her being the mother of his
favourite son. Her dress, which was of civilized stuffs, was fashioned
and ornamented by herself, and was truly a most splendid affair; the
upper part of it being almost literally covered with silver broaches.
The Sacs and Foxes, who were once two separate tribes, but with a
language very similar, have, at some period not very remote, united
into one, and are now an inseparable people, and go by the familiar
appellation of the amalgam name of “Sacs and Foxes.”
These people, as will be seen in their portraits, shave and ornament
their heads, like the Osages and Pawnees, of whom I have spoken
heretofore; and are amongst the number of tribes who have
relinquished their immense tracts of lands, and recently retired West
of the Mississippi river. Their numbers at present are not more than
five or six thousand, yet they are a warlike and powerful tribe.
[Illustration: 280]
[Illustration: 282]
[Illustration: 281]
[Illustration: 283 284]
[Illustration: 285 286]
_Muk-a-tah-mish-o-kah-kaik_ (the black hawk, +plate+ 283) is the man to
whom I have above alluded, as the leader of the “Black Hawk war,” who
was defeated by General Atkinson, and held a prisoner of war, and sent
through Washington and other Eastern cities, with a number of others,
to be gazed at.
This man, whose name has carried a sort of terror through the country
where it has been sounded, has been distinguished as a speaker or
councellor rather than as a warrior; and I believe it has been pretty
generally admitted, that “_Nah-pope_” and the “Prophet” were, in fact,
the instigators of the war; and either of them with much higher claims
for the name of warrior than Black Hawk ever had.
When I painted this chief, he was dressed in a plain suit of buckskin,
with strings of wampum in his ears and on his neck, and held in his
hand, his medicine-bag, which was the skin of a black hawk, from which
he had taken his name, and the tail of which made him a fan, which he
was almost constantly using.
+Plate+ 284, is the eldest son of Black Hawk, _Nah-se-us-kuk_ (the
whirling thunder), a very handsome young warrior, and one of the
finest-looking Indians I ever saw. There is a strong party in the tribe
that is anxious to put this young man up; and I think it more than
likely, that _Kee-o-kuk_ as chief may fall ere long by his hand, or by
some of the tribe, who are anxious to reinstate the family of Black
Hawk.
+Plate+ 285, _Wah-pe-kee-suck_ (the white cloud), called “the Prophet,”
is a very distinguished man, and one of the principal and leading men
of the Black Hawk party, and studying favour with the whites, as will
be seen by the manner in which he was allowing his hair to grow out.
+Plate+ 286, _Wee-sheet_ (the sturgeon’s head), this man held a spear
in his hand when he was being painted, with which he assured me he
killed four white men during the war; though I have some doubts of the
fact.
_Ah-mou-a_ (the whale, +plate+ 287, and his wife, +plate+ 288), are
also fair specimens of this tribe. Her name is Wa-quo-the-qua (the
buck’s wife, or female deer), and she was wrapped in a mackinaw
blanket, whilst he was curiously dressed, and held his war-club in his
hand.
_Pash-ee-pa-ho_ (the little stabbing chief, +plate+ 289), a very old
man, holding his shield, staff and pipe in his hands; has long been the
head civil chief of this tribe; but, as is generally the case in very
old age, he has resigned the office to those who are younger and better
qualified to do the duties of it.
Besides the above-mentioned personages, I painted also the following
portraits, which are now in my Collection.
_I-o-way_ (the Ioway), one of Black Hawk’s principal warriors; his
body curiously ornamented with his “war-paint;” _Pam-a-ho_ (the
swimmer), one of Black Hawk’s warriors; _No-kuk-qua_ (the bear’s fat);
_Pash-ee-pa-ho_ (the little stabbing chief, the younger), one of Black
Hawk’s braves; _Wah-pa-ko-las-kuk_ (the bear’s track); _Wa-saw-me-saw_
(the roaring thunder), youngest son of Black Hawk; painted while
prisoner of war.
+Plate+ 290, _Kee-o-kuk_, on horseback. After I had painted the
portrait of this vain man at full length, and which I have already
introduced, he had the vanity to say to me, that he made a fine
appearance on horseback, and that he wished me to paint him thus. So
I prepared my canvass in the door of the hospital which I occupied,
in the dragoon cantonment; and he flourished about for a considerable
part of the day in front of me, until the picture was completed. The
horse that he rode was the best animal on the frontier; a fine blooded
horse, for which he gave the price of 300 dollars, a thing that he was
quite able to, who had the distribution of 50,000 dollars annuities,
annually, amongst his people. He made a great display on this day, and
hundreds of the dragoons and officers were about him, and looking on
during the operation. His horse was beautifully caparisoned, and his
scalps were carried attached to the bridle-bits.[36]
[Illustration: 287]
[Illustration: 288]
[Illustration: 289]
[Illustration: 290]
[Illustration: 291]
[Illustration: 292]
The dances and other amusements amongst this tribe are exceedingly
spirited and pleasing; and I have made sketches of a number of them,
which I briefly introduce here, and leave them for further comments at
a future time, provided I ever get leisure and space to enable me to do
it.
The _slave-dance_ (+plate+ 291), is a picturesque scene, and the custom
in which it is founded a very curious one. This tribe has a society
which they call the “_slaves_,” composed of a number of the young men
of the best families in the tribe, who volunteer to be slaves for the
term of two years, and subject to perform any menial service that the
chief may order, no matter how humiliating or how degrading it may
be; by which, after serving their two years, they are exempt for the
rest of their lives, on war-parties or other excursions, or wherever
they may be—from all labour or degrading occupations, such as cooking,
making fires, &c. &c.
These young men elect one from their numbers to be their master, and
all agree to obey his command whatever it may be, and which is given to
him by one of the chiefs of the tribe. On a certain day or season of
the year, they have to themselves a great feast, and preparatory to it
the above-mentioned dance.
_Smoking horses_ (+plate+ 292), is another of the peculiar and very
curious customs of this tribe. When General Street and I, arrived at
Kee-o-kuks village, we were just in time to see this amusing scene, on
the prairie a little back of his village. The Foxes, who were making
up a war-party to go against the Sioux, and had not suitable horses
enough by twenty, had sent word to the Sacs, the day before (according
to an ancient custom), that they were coming on that day, at a certain
hour, to “smoke” that number of horses, and they must not fail to have
them ready. On that day, and at the hour, the twenty young men who were
beggars for horses, were on the spot, and seated themselves on the
ground in a circle, where they went to smoking. The villagers flocked
around them in a dense crowd, and soon after appeared on the prairie,
at half a mile distance, an equal number of young men of the Sac tribe,
who had agreed, each to give a horse, and who were then galloping them
about at full speed; and, gradually, as they went around in a circuit,
coming in nearer to the centre, until they were at last close around
the ring of young fellows seated on the ground. Whilst dashing about
thus, each one, with a heavy whip in his hand, as he came within reach
of the group on the ground, selected the one to whom he decided to
present his horse, and as he passed him, gave him the most tremendous
cut with his lash, over his naked shoulders; and as he darted around
again he plied the whip as before, and again and again, with a violent
“crack!” until the blood could be seen trickling down over his naked
shoulders, upon which he instantly dismounted, and placed the bridle
and whip in his hands, saying, “here, you are a beggar—I present you a
horse, but you will carry my mark on your back.” In this manner, they
were all in a little time “_whipped up_,” and each had a good horse
to ride home, and into battle. His necessity was such, that he could
afford to take the stripes and the scars as the price of the horse,
and the giver could afford to make the present for the satisfaction of
putting his mark upon the other, and of boasting of his liberality,
which he has always a right to do, when going into the dance, or on
other important occasions.
The _Begging Dance_ (+plate+ 293), is a frequent amusement, and one
that has been practiced with some considerable success at this time,
whilst there have been so many distinguished and liberal visitors here.
It is got up by a number of desperate and long-winded fellows, who will
dance and yell their visitors into liberality; or, if necessary, laugh
them into it, by their strange antics, singing a song of importunity,
and extending their hands for presents, which they allege are to
gladden the hearts of the poor, and ensure a blessing to the giver.
The Sacs and Foxes, like all other Indians, are fond of living along
the banks of rivers and streams; and like all others, are expert
swimmers and skilful canoemen.
Their canoes, like those of the Sioux and many other tribes, are dug
out from a log, and generally made extremely light; and they dart them
through the coves and along the shores of the rivers, with astonishing
quickness. I was often amused at their freaks in their canoes,
whilst travelling; and I was induced to make a sketch of one which I
frequently witnessed, that of sailing with the aid of their blankets,
which the men carry; and when the wind is fair, stand in the bow of the
canoe and hold by two corners, with the other two under the foot or
tied to the leg (+plate+ 294); while the women sit in the other end of
the canoe, and steer it with their paddles.
The _Discovery Dance_ (+plate+ 295), has been given here, amongst
various others, and pleased the bystanders very much; it was
exceedingly droll and picturesque, and acted out with a great deal of
pantomimic effect—without music, or any other noise than the patting
of their feet, which all came simultaneously on the ground, in perfect
time, whilst they were dancing forward two or four at a time, in a
skulking posture, overlooking the country, and professing to announce
the approach of animals or enemies which they have discovered, by
giving the signals back to the leader of the dance.
_Dance to the Berdashe_ (+plate+ 296), is a very funny and amusing
scene, which happens once a year or oftener, as they choose, when
a feast is given to the “_Berdashe_,” as he is called in French,
(or _I-coo-coo-a_, in their own language), who is a man dressed in
woman’s clothes, as he is known to be all his life, and
for extraordinary privileges which he is known to possess, he is
driven to the most servile and degrading duties, which he is not
allowed to escape; and he being the only one of the tribe submitting
to this disgraceful degradation, is looked upon as _medicine_ and
sacred, and a feast is given to him annually; and initiatory to it, a
dance by those few young men of the tribe who can, as in the sketch,
dance forward and publicly make their boast (without the denial of
the Berdashe), that Ahg-whi-ee-choos-cum-me hi-anh-dwax-cumme-ke
on-daig-nun-ehow ixt. Che-ne-a’hkt ah-pex-ian I-coo-coo-a wi-an-gurotst
whow-itcht-ne-axt-ar-rah, ne-axt-gun-he h’dow-k’s dow-on-daig-o-ewhicht
nun-go-was-see.
[Illustration: 293]
[Illustration: 294]
[Illustration: 295]
[Illustration: 296]
Such, and such only, are allowed to enter the dance and partake of
the feast, and as there are but a precious few in the tribe who have
legitimately gained this singular privilege, or willing to make a
public confession of it, it will be seen that the society consists of
quite a limited number of “odd fellows.”
This is one of the most unaccountable and disgusting customs, that I
have ever met in the Indian country, and so far as I have been able
to learn, belongs only to the Sioux and Sacs and Foxes—perhaps it is
practiced by other tribes, but I did not meet with it; and for further
account of it I am constrained to refer the reader to the country where
it is practiced, and where I should wish that it might be extinguished
before it be more fully recorded.
Dance to the _Medicine of the Brave_ (+plate+ 297). This is a custom
well worth recording, for the beautiful moral which is contained in it.
In this plate is represented a party of Sac warriors who have returned
victorious from battle, with scalps they have taken from their enemies,
but having lost one of their party, they appear and dance in front of
his wigwam, fifteen days in succession, about an hour on each day, when
the widow hangs his _medicine-bag_ on a green bush which she erects
before her door, under which she sits and cries, whilst the warriors
dance and brandish the scalps they have taken, and at the same time
recount the deeds of bravery of their deceased comrade in arms, whilst
they are throwing presents to the widow to heal her grief and afford
her the means of a living.
The Sacs and Foxes are already drawing an annuity of 27,000 dollars,
for thirty years to come, in cash; and by the present Treaty just
concluded, that amount will be enlarged to 37,000 dollars per annum.
This Treaty with the Sacs and Foxes, held at Rock Island, was for
the purchase of a tract of land of 256,000 acres, lying on the Ioway
river, West of the Mississippi, a reserve which was made in the tract
of land conveyed to the Government by Treaty after the Sac war, and
known as the “Black Hawk purchase.” The Treaty has been completed by
Governor Dodge, by stipulating on the part of Government to pay them
seventy-five cents per acre for the reserve, (amounting to 192,000
dollars), in the manner and form following:—
Thirty thousand dollars to be paid in specie in June next, at the
Treaty-ground; and ten thousand dollars annually, for ten years to
come, at the same place, and in the same manner; and the remaining
sixty-two thousand, in the payment of their debts, and some little
donations to widows and half-breed children. The American Fur Company
was their principal creditor, whose account for goods advanced
on credit, they admitted, to the amount of nearly fifty thousand
dollars. It was stipulated by an article in the Treaty that one half
of these demands should be paid in cash as soon as the Treaty should
be ratified—and that five thousand dollars should be appropriated
annually, for their liquidation, until they were paid off.
It was proposed by Kee-o-kuk in his speech (and it is a fact worthy of
being known, for such has been the proposition in every Indian Treaty
that I ever attended), that the first preparatory stipulation on the
part of Government, should be to pay the requisite sum of money to
satisfy all their creditors, who were then present, and whose accounts
were handed in, acknowledged and admitted.
The price paid for this tract of land is a liberal one, comparatively
speaking, for the usual price heretofore paid for Indian lands, has
been one and a half or three quarter cents, (instead of seventy-five
cents) per acre, for land which Government has since sold out for ten
shillings.
Even one dollar per acre would not have been too much to have paid
for this tract, for every acre of it can be sold in one year, for ten
shillings per acre, to actual settlers, so desirable and so fertile is
the tract of country purchased. These very people sold to Government
a great part of the rich states of Illinois and Missouri, at the low
rates above-mentioned; and this small tract being the last that they
can ever part with, without throwing themselves back upon their natural
enemies, it was no more than right that Government should deal with
them, as they have done, liberally.
As an evidence of the immediate value of that tract of land to
Government, and, as a striking instance of the overwhelming torrent of
emigration, to the “Far West,” I will relate the following occurrence
which took place at the close of the Treaty:—After the Treaty was
signed and witnessed, Governor Dodge addressed a few very judicious
and admonitory sentences to the chiefs and braves, which he finished
by requesting them to move their families, and all their property from
this tract, within one month, which time he would allow them, to make
room for the whites.
Considerable excitement, was created among the chiefs and braves, by
this suggestion, and a hearty laugh ensued, the cause of which was soon
after explained by one of them in the following manner:—
“My father, we have to laugh—we require no time to move—we have all
left the lands already, and sold our wigwams to Chemokemons (white
men)—some for one hundred, and some for two hundred dollars, before
we came to this Treaty. There are already four hundred Chemokemons on
the land, and several hundred more on their way moving in; and three
days before we came away, one Chemokemon sold his wigwam to another
Chemokemon for two thousand dollars, to build a great town.”
[Illustration: 297]
In this wise is this fair land filling up, one hundred miles or more
West of the Mississippi—not with barbarians, but with people from the
East, enlightened and intelligent—with industry and perseverance that
will soon reap from the soil all the luxuries, and add to the surface,
all the taste and comforts of Eastern refinement.
The Treaty itself, in all its forms, was a scene of interest, and
_Kee-o-kuk_ was the principal speaker on the occasion, being recognized
as the head chief of the tribe. He is a very subtle and dignified
man, and well fitted to wield the destinies of his nation. The poor
dethroned monarch, old Black Hawk, was present, and looked an object of
pity. With an old frock coat and brown hat on, and a cane in his hand,
he stood the whole time outside of the group, and in dumb and dismal
silence, with his sons by the side of him, and also his _quondam_,
aide-de-camp, Nah-pope, and the prophet. They were not allowed to
speak, nor even to sign the Treaty. _Nah-pope_ rose, however, and
commenced a very earnest speech on the subject of _temperance_! but
Governor Dodge ordered him to sit down, (as being out of order),
which probably saved him from a much more _peremptory command_ from
_Kee-o-kuk_, who was rising at that moment, with looks on his face
that the Devil himself might have shrunk from. This Letter I must end
here, observing, before I say adieu, that I have been catering for the
public during this summer at a _difficult_ (and almost _cruel_) rate;
and if, in my over-exertions to grasp at material for their future
entertainment, the cold hand of winter should be prematurely laid upon
me and my works in this Northern region, the world, I am sure, will be
disposed to pity, rather than censure me for my delay.
[36] About two years after the above was written, and the portrait
painted, and whilst I was giving Lectures on the Customs of the
Indians, in the Stuyvesant Institute in New York, Kee-o-kuk and
his wife and son, with twenty more of the chiefs and warriors
of his tribe, visited the City of New York on their way to
Washington City, and were present one evening at my Lecture,
amidst an audience of 1500 persons. During the Lecture, I placed a
succession of portraits on my easel before the audience, and they
were successively recognized by the Indians as they were shewn;
and at last I placed this portrait of Kee-o-kuk before them, when
they all sprung up and hailed it with a piercing yell. After the
noise had subsided, Kee-o-kuk arose, and addressed the audience in
these words:—“My friends, I hope you will pardon my men for making
so much noise, as they were very much excited by seeing me on my
favourite war-horse, which they all recognized in a moment.”
I had the satisfaction then of saying to the audience, that this
was very gratifying to me, inasmuch as many persons had questioned
the correctness of the picture of the horse; and some had said in
my Exhibition Room, “that it was an imposition—that no Indian on
the frontier rode so good a horse.” This was explained to Kee-o-kuk
by the interpreter, when he arose again quite indignant at the
thought that any one should doubt its correctness, and assured the
audience, “that his men, a number of whom never had heard that the
picture was painted, knew the horse the moment it was presented;
and further, he wished to know why Kee-o-kuk could not ride as good
a horse as any white man?” He here received a round of applause,
and the interpreter, Mr. Le Clair, rose and stated to the audience,
that he recognized the horse the moment it was shewn, and that it
was a faithful portrait of the horse that he sold to Kee-o-kuk for
300 dollars, and that it was the finest horse on the frontier,
belonging either to red or white man.
In a few minutes afterwards I was exhibiting several of my
paintings of buffalo-hunts, and describing the modes of slaying
them with bows and arrows, when I made the assertion which I had
often been in the habit of making, that there were many instances
where the arrow was thrown entirely through the buffalo’s body; and
that I had several times witnessed this astonishing feat. I saw
evidently by the motions of my audience, that many doubted the
correctness of my assertion; and I appealed to _Kee-o-kuk_, who
rose up when the thing was explained to him, and said, that it had
repeatedly happened amongst his tribe; and he believed that one
of his young men by his side had done it. The young man instantly
stepped up on the bench, and took a bow from under his robe, with
which he told the audience he had driven his arrow quite through a
buffalo’s body. And, there being forty of the Sioux from the Upper
Missouri also present, the same question was put to them, when the
chief arose, and addressing himself to the audience, said that it
was a thing very often done by the hunters in his tribe.
LETTER—No. 57.
FORT MOULTRIE, _SOUTH CAROLINA_.
Since the date of my last Letter, I have been a wanderer as usual,
and am now at least 2000 miles from the place where it was dated. At
this place are held 250 of the Seminolees and Euchees, prisoners of
war, who are to be kept here awhile longer, and transferred to the
country assigned them, 700 miles West of the Mississippi, and 1400
from this. The famous _Os-ce-o-la_ is amongst the prisoners; and also
_Mick-e-no-pah_, the head chief of the tribe, and _Cloud_, _King
Phillip_, and several others of the distinguished men of the nation,
who have celebrated themselves in the war that is now waging with the
United States’ Government.
There is scarcely any need of my undertaking in an epistle of this
kind, to give a full account of this tribe, of their early history—of
their former or present location—or of their present condition, and the
disastrous war they are now waging with the United States’ Government,
who have held an invading army in their country for four or five years,
endeavouring to dispossess them and compel them to remove to the West,
in compliance with Treaty stipulations. These are subjects generally
understood already (being matters of history), and I leave them to the
hands of those who will do them more complete justice than I could
think of doing at this time, with the little space that I could allow
them; in the confident hope that justice may be meted out to them, at
least by the historian, if it should not be by their great Guardian,
who takes it upon herself, as with all the tribes, affectionately to
_call_ them her “_red children_.”
For those who know nothing of the Seminolees, it may be proper for me
here just to remark, that they are a tribe of three or four thousand;
occupying the peninsula of Florida—and speaking the language of the
Creeks, of whom I have heretofore spoken, and who were once a part of
the same tribe.
The word Seminolee is a Creek word, signifying runaways; a name which
was given to a part of the Creek nation, who emigrated in a body to a
country farther South, where they have lived to the present day; and
continually extended their dominions by overrunning the once numerous
tribe that occupied the Southern extremity of the Florida Cape, called
the Euchees; whom they have at last nearly annihilated, and taken the
mere remnant of them in, as a part of their tribe. With this tribe
the Government have been engaged in deadly and disastrous warfare for
four or five years; endeavouring to remove them from their lands, in
compliance with a Treaty stipulation, which the Government claims to
have been justly made, and which the Seminolees aver, was not. Many
millions of money, and some hundreds of lives of officers and men have
already been expended in the attempt to dislodge them; and much more
will doubtless be yet spent before they can be removed from their
almost impenetrable swamps and hiding-places, to which they can, for
years to come, retreat; and from which they will be enabled, and no
doubt disposed, in their exasperated state, to make continual sallies
upon the unsuspecting and defenceless inhabitants of the country;
carrying their relentless feelings to be reeked in cruel vengeance on
the unoffending and innocent.[37]
[Illustration: 298]
The prisoners who are held here, to the number of 250, men, women
and children, have been captured during the recent part of this
warfare, and amongst them the distinguished personages whom I named
a few moments since; of these, the most conspicuous at this time is
Os-ce-o-la (+plate+ 298), commonly called Powell, as he is generally
supposed to be a half-breed, the son of a white man (by that name), and
a Creek woman.
I have painted him precisely in the costume, in which he stood for his
picture, even to a string and a trinket. He wore three ostrich feathers
in his head, and a turban made of a vari-coloured cotton shawl—and his
dress was chiefly of calicoes, with a handsome bead sash or belt around
his waist, and his rifle in his hand.
This young man is, no doubt, an extraordinary character, as he has been
for some years reputed, and doubtless looked upon by the Seminolees as
the master spirit and leader of the tribe, although he is not a chief.
From his boyhood, he had led an energetic and desperate sort of life,
which had secured for him a conspicuous position in society; and when
the desperate circumstances of war were agitating his country, he at
once took a conspicuous and decided part; and in some way whether he
deserved it or not, acquired an influence and a name that soon sounded
to the remotest parts of the United States, and amongst the Indian
tribes, to the Rocky Mountains.
This gallant fellow, who was, undoubtedly, _captured_ a few months
since, with several of his chiefs and warriors, was at first brought
in, to Fort Mellon in Florida, and afterwards sent to this place for
safe-keeping, where he is grieving with a broken spirit, and ready to
die, cursing white man, no doubt, to the end of his breath.
The surgeon of the post, Dr. Weedon, who has charge of him, and has
been with him ever since he was taken prisoner, has told me from day to
day, that he will not live many weeks; and I have my doubts whether he
will, from the rapid decline I have observed in his face and his flesh
since I arrived here.
During the time that I have been here, I have occupied a large room in
the officers’ quarters, by the politeness of Captain Morrison, who has
command of the post, and charge of the prisoners; and on every evening,
after painting all day at their portraits, I have had Os-ce-o-la,
Mick-e-no-pa, Cloud, Co-a-had-jo, King Phillip, and others in my room,
until a late hour at night, where they have taken great pains to give
me an account of the war, and the mode in which they were captured, of
which they complain bitterly.
I am fully convinced from all that I have seen, and learned from the
lips of Os-ce-o-la, and from the chiefs who are around him, that he is
a most extraordinary man, and one entitled to a better fate.
In stature he is about at mediocrity, with an elastic and graceful
movement; in his face he is good looking, with rather an effeminate
smile; but of so peculiar a character, that the world may be ransacked
over without finding another just like it. In his manners, and all his
movements in company, he is polite and gentlemanly, though all his
conversation is entirely in his own tongue; and his general appearance
and actions, those of a full-blooded and wild Indian.
In +plate+ 299, is a portrait of _Ye-how-lo-gee_ (the cloud), generally
known by the familiar name of “_Cloud_.” This is one of the chiefs, and
a very good-natured, jolly man, growing fat in his imprisonment, where
he gets enough to eat, and an occasional drink of whiskey from the
officers, with whom he is a great favourite.
_Ee-mat-la_ (“King Philip,” +plate+ 300) is also a very aged chief, who
has been a man of great notoriety and distinction in his time, but has
now got too old for further warlike enterprize.[38]
_Co-ee-ha-jo_ (+plate+ 301), is another chief who has been a long time
distinguished in the tribe, having signalized himself very much by his
feats in the present war.
[Illustration: 299 300]
[Illustration: 301 302]
_La-shee_ (the licker, +plate+ 302), commonly called “Creek Billy,” is
a distinguished brave of the tribe, and a very handsome fellow.
+Plate+ 303, is the portrait of a Seminolee boy, about nine years of
age;[39] and +plate+ 304, a Seminolee woman.
_Mick-e-no-pah_ (+plate+ 305), is the head chief of the tribe, and a
very lusty and dignified man. He took great pleasure in being present
every day in my room, whilst I was painting the others; but positively
refused to be painted, until he found that a bottle of whiskey, and
another of wine, which I kept on my mantelpiece, by permission of my
kind friend Captain Morrison, were only to deal out their occasional
kindnesses to those who sat for their portraits; when he at length
agreed to be painted, “if I could make a fair likeness of his _legs_,”
which he had very tastefully dressed in a handsome pair of red
leggings, and upon which I at once began, (as he sat cross-legged), by
painting _them_ on the lower part of the canvass, leaving room for his
body and head above; all of which, through the irresistible influence
of a few kindnesses from my bottle of wine, I soon had fastened to the
canvass, where they will firmly stand I trust, for some hundreds of
years.
Since I finished my portrait of Os-ce-o-la, and since writing the first
part of this Letter, he has been extremely sick, and lies so yet, with
an alarming attack of the quinsey or putrid sore throat, which will
probably end his career in a few days. Two or three times the surgeon
has sent for the officers of the Garrison and myself, to come and see
him “_dying_”—we were with him the night before last till the middle of
the night, every moment expecting his death; but he has improved during
the last twenty-four hours, and there is some slight prospect of his
recovery.[40] The steamer starts to-morrow morning for New York, and I
must use the opportunity; so I shall from necessity, leave the subject
of Os-ce-o-la and the Seminolees for future consideration. Adieu.
[Illustration: 303]
[Illustration: 304]
[Illustration: 305]
[37] The above Letter was written in the winter of 1838, and by the
Secretary at War’s Report, a year and a half ago, it is seen that
36,000,000 of dollars had been already expended in the Seminolee
war, as well as the lives of 12 or 1400 officers and men, and
defenceless inhabitants, who have fallen victims to the violence of
the enraged savages and diseases of the climate. And at the present
date, August, 1841, I see by the American papers, that the war is
being prosecuted at this time with its wonted vigour; and that
the best troops in our country, and the lives of our most valued
officers are yet jeopardised in the deadly swamps of Florida, with
little more certainty of a speedy termination of the war, than
there appeared five years ago.
The world will pardon me for saying no more of this inglorious
war, for it will be seen that I am too near the end of my book, to
afford it the requisite space; and as an American citizen, I would
pray, amongst thousands of others, that all books yet to be made,
might have as good an excuse for leaving it out.
[38] This veteran old warrior died a few weeks after I painted his
portrait, whilst on his way, with the rest of the prisoners, to the
Arkansas.
[39] This remarkably fine boy, by the name of _Os-ce-o-la
Nick-a-no-chee_, has recently been brought from America to London,
by Dr. Welch, an Englishman, who has been for several years
residing in Florida. The boy it seems, was captured by the United
States troops, at the age of six years: but how my friend the
Doctor got possession of him, and leave to bring him away I never
have heard. He is acting a very praiseworthy part however, by the
paternal fondness he evinces for the child, and fairly proves,
by the very great pains he is taking with his education. The
doctor has published recently, a very neat volume, containing the
boy’s history; and also a much fuller account of Os-ce-o-la, and
incidents of the Florida war, to which I would refer the reader.
[40] From accounts which left Fort Moultrie a few days after I
returned home, it seems, that this ill-fated warrior died, a
prisoner, the next morning after I left him. And the following
very interesting account of his last moments, was furnished me by
Dr. Weedon, the surgeon who was by him, with the officers of the
garrison, at Os-ce-o-la’s request.
“About half an hour before he died, he seemed to be sensible that
he was dying; and although he could not speak, he signified by
signs that he wished me to send for the chiefs and for the officers
of the post, whom I called in. He made signs to his wives (of whom
he had two, and also two fine little children by his side,) to
go and bring his full dress, which he wore in time of war; which
having been brought in, he rose up in his bed, which was on the
floor, and put on his shirt, his leggings and moccasins—girded
on his war-belt—his bullet-pouch and powder-horn, and laid his
knife by the side of him on the floor. He then called for his red
paint, and his looking-glass, which was held before him, when
he deliberately painted one half of his face, his neck and his
throat—his wrists—the backs of his hands, and the handle of his
knife, red with vermilion; a custom practiced when the irrevocable
oath of war and destruction is taken. His knife he then placed in
its sheath, under his belt; and he carefully arranged his turban
on his head, and his three ostrich plumes that he was in the habit
of wearing in it. Being thus prepared in full dress, he laid down
a few minutes to recover strength sufficient, when he rose up as
before, and with most benignant and pleasing smiles, extended his
hand to me and to all of the officers and chiefs that were around
him; and shook hands with us all in dead silence; and also with his
wives and his little children; he made a signal for them to lower
him down upon his bed, which was done, and he then slowly drew from
his war-belt, his scalping-knife, which he firmly grasped in his
right hand, laying it across the other, on his breast, and in a
moment smiled away his last breath, without a struggle or a groan.”
LETTER—No. 58.
NORTH WESTERN FRONTIER.
Having finished my travels in the “Far West” for awhile, and being
detained a little time, sans occupation, in my nineteenth or twentieth
transit of what, in common parlance is denominated the Frontier; I
have seated myself down to give some further account of it, and of the
doings and habits of people, both red and white, who live upon it.
The Frontier may properly be denominated the fleeting and unsettled
line extending from the Gulf of Mexico to the Lake of the Woods,
a distance of three thousand miles; which indefinitely separates
civilized from Indian population—a moving barrier, where the
unrestrained and natural propensities of two people are concentrated,
in an atmosphere of lawless iniquity, that offends Heaven, and holds in
mutual ignorance of each other, the honourable and virtuous portions of
two people, which seem destined never to meet.
From what has been said in the foregoing epistles, the reader will
agree that I have pretty closely adhered to my promise made in the
commencement of them; that I should confine my remarks chiefly to
people I have visited, and customs that I have _seen_, rather than
by taking up his time with matter that might be gleaned from books.
He will also agree, that I have principally devoted my pages, as I
promised, to an account of the condition and customs of those Indians
whom I have found entirely beyond the Frontier, acting and living
as Nature taught them to live and act, without the examples, and
consequently without the taints of civilized encroachments.
He will, I flatter myself, also yield me some credit for devoting
the time and space I have occupied in my first appeal to the world,
entirely to the condition and actions of the _living_, rather than
fatiguing him with _theories_ of the living or the dead. I have
theories enough of my own, and have as closely examined the condition
and customs of these people on the Frontier, as of those living beyond
it—and also their past and present, and prospective history; but the
reader will have learned, that my chief object in these Letters, has
been not only to describe what I have _seen_, but of _those_ things,
such as I deemed the most novel and least understood; which has of
course confined my remarks heretofore, mostly to the character and
condition of those tribes living entirely in a state of nature.
And as I have now a little leisure, and no particular tribes before
me to speak of, the reader will allow me to glance my eye over the
whole Indian country for awhile, both along the Frontier and beyond
it; taking a hasty and brief survey of them, and their prospects in
the aggregate; and by not _seeing_ quite as distinctly as I have been
in the habit of doing heretofore, taking pains to tell a little more
emphatically what I _think_, and what I have _thought_ of those things
that I have seen, and yet have told but in part.
I have seen a vast many of these wild people in my travels, it will be
admitted by all. And I have had toils and difficulties, and dangers to
encounter in paying them my visits; yet I have had my pleasures as I
went along, in shaking their friendly hands, that never had felt the
contaminating touch of _money_, or the withering embrace of pockets;
I have shared the comforts of their hospitable wigwams, and always
have been preserved unharmed in their country. And if I have spoken,
or am to speak of them, with a seeming bias, the reader will know what
allowance to make for me, who am standing as the champion of a people,
who have treated me kindly, of whom I feel bound to speak well; and who
have no means of speaking for themselves.
Of the dead, to speak kindly, and to their character to render justice,
is always a praiseworthy act; but it is yet far more charitable to
extend the hand of liberality, or to hold the scale of justice, to the
_living_ who are able to feel the benefit of it. Justice to the dead is
generally a charity, inasmuch as it is a kindness to living friends;
but to the poor Indian dead, if it is meted out at all, which is seldom
the case, it is thrown to the grave with him, where he has generally
gone without friends left behind him to inherit the little fame that
is reluctantly allowed him while living, and much less likely to be
awarded to him when dead. Of the thousands and millions, therefore, of
these poor fellows who are dead, and whom we have thrown into their
graves, there is nothing that I could now say, that would do them any
good, or that would not answer the world as well at a future time as at
the present; while there is a debt that we are owing to those of them
who are yet living, which I think justly demands our attention, and all
our sympathies at this moment.
The peculiar condition in which we are obliged to contemplate these
most unfortunate people at this time—hastening to destruction and
extinction, as they evidently are, lays an uncompromising claim upon
the sympathies of the civilized world, and gives a deep interest and
value to such records as are truly made—setting up, and perpetuating
from the life, their true native character and customs.
If the great family of North American Indians were all dying by a
scourge or epidemic of the country, it would be natural, and a virtue,
to weep for them; but merely to sympathize with them (and but partially
to do that) when they are dying at our hands, and rendering their glebe
to our possession, would be to subvert the simplest law of Nature, and
turn civilized man, with all his boasted virtues, back to worse than
savage barbarism.
Justice to a nation who are dying, need never be expected from
the hands of their destroyers; and where injustice and injury are
visited upon the weak and defenceless, from ten thousand hands—from
Governments—monopolies and individuals—the offence is lost in the
inseverable iniquity in which all join, and for which nobody is
answerable, unless it be for their respective amounts, at a final day
of retribution.
Long and cruel experience has well proved that it is impossible for
enlightened Governments or money-making individuals to deal with these
credulous and unsophisticated people, without the sin of injustice;
but the humble biographer or historian, who goes amongst them from a
different motive, _may_ come out of their country with his hands and
his conscience clean, and himself an anomaly, a white man dealing with
Indians, and meting out justice to them; which I hope it may be my good
province to do with my pen and my brush, with which, at least, I will
have the singular and valuable satisfaction of having done them no harm.
With this view, and a desire to render justice to my readers also, I
have much yet to say of the general appearance and character of the
Indians—of their condition and treatment; and far more, I fear, than
I can allot to the little space I have designed for the completion of
these epistles.
Of the _general appearance_ of the North American Indians, much might
be yet said, that would be new and instructive. In _stature_, as I have
already said, there are some of the tribes that are considerably above
the ordinary height of man, and others that are evidently below it;
allowing their average to be about equal to that of their fellow-men
in the civilized world. In girth they are less, and lighter in their
limbs, and almost entirely free from corpulency or useless flesh. Their
bones are lighter, their skulls are thinner, and their muscles less
hard than those of their civilized neighbours, excepting in the legs
and feet, where they are brought into more continual action by their
violent exercise on foot and on horseback, which swells the muscles
and gives them great strength in those limbs, which is often quite
as conspicuous as the extraordinary development of muscles in the
shoulders and arms of our labouring men.
Although the Indians are generally narrow in the shoulders, and less
powerful with the arms, yet it does not always happen by any means,
that they are so effeminate as they look, and so widely inferior in
brachial strength, as the spectator is apt to believe, from the smooth
and rounded appearance of their limbs. The contrast between one of our
labouring men when he denudes his limbs, and the figure of a naked
Indian is to be sure very striking, and entirely too much so, for the
actual difference in the power of the two persons. There are several
reasons for this which account for so disproportionate a contrast, and
should be named.
The labouring man, who is using his limbs the greater part of his life
in lifting heavy weights, &c. sweats them with the weight of clothes
which he has on him, which softens the integuments and the flesh,
leaving the muscles to stand out in more conspicuous relief when they
are exposed; whilst the Indian, who exercises his limbs for the most
of his life, denuded and exposed to the air, gets over his muscles a
thicker and more compact layer of integuments which hide them from the
view, leaving the casual spectator, who sees them only at rest, to
suppose them too decidedly inferior to those which are found amongst
people of his own colour. Of muscular strength in the legs, I have met
many of the most extraordinary instances in the Indian country, that
ever I have seen in my life; and I have watched and studied such for
hours together, with utter surprise and admiration, in the violent
exertions of their dances, where they leap and jump with every nerve
strung, and every muscle swelled, till their legs will often look like
a bundle of ropes, rather than a mass of human flesh. And from all that
I have seen, I am inclined to say, that whatever differences there may
be between the North American Indians and their civilized neighbours
in the above respects, they are decidedly the results of different
habits of life and modes of education rather than of any difference in
constitution. And I would also venture the assertion, that he who would
see the Indian in a condition to judge of his muscles, must see him
in motion; and he who would get a perfect study for an Hercules or an
Atlas, should take a stone-mason for the upper part of his figure, and
a Camanchee or a Blackfoot Indian from the waist downwards to the feet.
There is a general and striking character in the facial outline of the
North American Indians, which is bold and free, and would seem at once
to stamp them as distinct from natives of other parts of the world.
Their noses are generally prominent and aquiline—and the whole face, if
divested of paint and of copper-colour, would seem to approach to the
bold and European character. Many travellers have thought that their
eyes were smaller than those of Europeans; and there is good cause for
one to believe so, if he judges from first impressions, without taking
pains to inquire into the truth and causes of things. I have been
struck, as most travellers, no doubt have, with the want of expansion
and apparent smallness of the Indians’ eyes, which I have found upon
examination, to be principally the effect of continual exposure to the
rays of the sun and the wind, without the shields that are used by the
civilized world; and also when in-doors, and free from those causes,
subjected generally to one more distressing, and calculated to produce
similar results, the smoke that almost continually hangs about their
wigwams, which necessarily contracts the lids of the eyes, forbidding
that full flame and expansion of the eye, that the cool and clear
shades of our civilized domicils are calculated to promote.
The teeth of the Indians are generally regular and sound, and
wonderfully preserved to old age, owing, no doubt, to the fact that
they live without the spices of life—without saccharine and without
salt, which are equally destructive to teeth, in civilized communities.
Their teeth, though sound, are not white, having a yellowish cast; but
for the same reason that a negro’s teeth are “like ivory,” they look
white—set as they are in bronze, as any one with a _tolerable_ set of
teeth can easily test, by painting his face the colour of an Indian,
and grinning for a moment in his looking-glass.
_Beards_ they generally have not—esteeming them great vulgarities,
and using every possible means to eradicate them whenever they are so
unfortunate as to be annoyed with them. Different writers have been
very much at variance on this subject ever since the first accounts
given of these people; and there seems still an unsatisfied curiosity
on the subject, which I would be glad to say that I could put entirely
at rest.
From the best information that I could obtain amongst forty-eight
tribes that I have visited, I feel authorized to say, that, amongst
the wild tribes, where they have made no efforts to imitate white men,
at least, the proportion of eighteen out of twenty, by nature are
entirely without the appearance of a beard; and of the very few who
have them by nature, nineteen out of twenty eradicate it by plucking it
out several times in succession, precisely at the age of puberty, when
its growth is successfully arrested; and occasionally one may be seen,
who has omitted to destroy it at that time, and subjects his chin to
the repeated pains of its extractions, which he is performing with a
pair of clamshells or other tweezers, nearly every day of his life—and
occasionally again, but still more rarely, one is found, who from
carelessness or inclination has omitted both of these, and is allowing
it to grow to the length of an inch or two on his chin, in which case
it is generally very soft, and exceedingly sparse. Wherever there is a
cross of the blood with the European or African, which is frequently
the case along the Frontier, a proportionate beard is the result; and
it is allowed to grow, or is plucked out with much toil, and with great
pain.
There has been much speculation, and great variety of opinions, as
to the results of the intercourse between the European and African
population with the Indians on the borders; and I would not undertake
to decide so difficult a question, though I cannot help but express
my opinion, which is made up from the vast many instances that I have
seen, that generally speaking, these half-breed specimens are in both
instances a decided deterioration from the two stocks, from which they
have sprung; which I grant may be the consequence that generally flows
from illicit intercourse, and from the inferior rank in which they are
held by both, (which is mostly confined to the lowest and most degraded
portions of society), rather than from any constitutional objection,
necessarily growing out of the amalgamation.
The finest built and most powerful men that I have ever yet seen, have
been some of the last-mentioned, the negro and the North American
Indian mixed, of equal blood. These instances are rare to be sure, yet
are occasionally to be found amongst the Seminolees and Cherokees,
and also amongst the Camanchees, even, and the Caddoes; and I account
for it in this way: From the slave-holding States to the heart of the
country of a wild tribe of Indians, through almost boundless and
impassable wilds and swamps, for hundreds of miles, it requires a
negro of extraordinary leg and courage and perseverance, to travel;
absconding from his master’s fields, to throw himself into a tribe
of wild and hostile Indians, for the enjoyment of his liberty; of
which there are occasional instances, and when they succeed, they are
admired by the savage; and as they come with a good share of the tricks
and arts of civilization, they are at once looked upon by the tribe,
as extraordinary and important personages; and generally marry the
daughters of chiefs, thus uniting theirs with the best blood in the
nation, which produce these remarkably fine and powerful men that I
have spoken of above.
Although the Indians of North America, where dissipation and disease
have not got amongst them, undoubtedly are a longer lived and healthier
race, and capable of enduring far more bodily privation and pain,
than civilized people can; yet I do not believe that the differences
are constitutional, or anything more than the results of different
circumstances, and a different education. As an evidence in support
of this assertion, I will allude to the hundreds of men whom I have
seen, and travelled with, who have been for several years together in
the Rocky Mountains, in the employment of the Fur Companies; where
they have lived exactly upon the Indian system, continually exposed
to the open air, and the weather, and, to all the disappointments and
privations peculiar to that mode of life; and I am bound to say, that I
never saw a more hardy and healthy race of men in my life, whilst they
remain in the country; nor any who fall to pieces quicker when they get
back to confined and dissipated life, which they easily fall into, when
they return to their own country.
The Indian women who are obliged to lead lives of severe toil and
drudgery, become exceedingly healthy and robust, giving easy birth
and strong constitutions to their children; which, in a measure, may
account for the simplicity and fewness of their diseases, which in
infancy and childhood are very seldom known to destroy life.
If there were anything like an equal proportion of deaths amongst the
Indian children, that is found in the civilized portions of the world,
the Indian country would long since have been depopulated, on account
of the decided disproportion of children they produce. It is a very
rare occurrence for an Indian woman to be “_blessed_” with more than
four or five children during her life; and generally speaking, they
seem contented with two or three; when in civilized communities it
is no uncommon thing for a woman to be the mother of ten or twelve,
and sometimes to bear two or even three at a time; of which I never
recollect to have met an instance during all my extensive travels in
the Indian country, though it is possible that I might occasionally
have passed them.
For so striking a dissimilarity as there evidently is between these
people, and those living according to the more artificial modes of
life, in a subject, seemingly alike natural to both, the reader will
perhaps expect me to furnish some rational and decisive causes. Several
very plausible reasons have been advanced for such a deficiency on the
part of the Indians, by authors who have written on the subject, but
whose opinions I should be very slow to adopt; inasmuch as they have
been based upon the Indian’s inferiority, (as the same authors have
taken great pains to prove in most other respects,) to their pale-faced
neighbours.
I know of but one decided cause for this difference, which I would
venture to advance, and which I confidently believe to be the principal
obstacle to a more rapid increase of their families; which is the very
great length of time that the women submit to lactation, generally
carrying their children at the breast to the age of two, and sometimes
three, and even four years!
The astonishing ease and success with which the Indian women pass
through the most painful and most trying of all human difficulties,
which fall exclusively to the lot of the gentler sex; is quite equal,
I have found from continued enquiry, to the representations that
have often been made to the world by other travellers, who have gone
before me. Many people have thought this a wise provision of Nature,
in framing the constitutions of these people, to suit the exigencies
of their exposed lives, where they are beyond the pale of skilful
surgeons, and the nice little comforts that visit the sick beds in the
enlightened world; but I never have been willing to give to Nature
quite so much credit, for stepping aside of her own rule, which I
believe to be about half way between—from which I am inclined to think
that the refinements of art, and its spices, have led the civilized
world into the pains and perils of one unnatural extreme; whilst the
extraordinary fatigue and exposure, and habits of Indian life, have
greatly released them from natural pains, on the other. With this
view of the case, I fully believe that Nature has dealt everywhere
impartially; and that, if from their childhood, our mothers had, like
the Indian women, carried loads like beasts of burthen—and those over
the longest journeys, and highest mountains—had swam the broadest
rivers—and galloped about for months and even years of their lives,
_astride_ of their horse’s backs; we should have taxed them as lightly
in stepping into the world, as an Indian pappoose does its mother, who
ties her horse under the shade of a tree for half an hour, and before
night, overtakes her travelling companions with her infant in her arms,
which has often been the case.
As to the probable origin of the North American Indians, which is one
of the first questions that suggests itself to the enquiring mind,
and will be perhaps, the last to be settled; I shall have little to
say in this place, for the reason that so abstruse a subject, and
one so barren of positive proof, would require in its discussion too
much circumstantial evidence for my allowed limits; which I am sure
the world will agree will be filled up much more consistently with
the avowed spirit of this work, by treating of that which admits
of an abundance of proof—their actual existence, their customs—and
misfortunes; and the suggestions of modes for the amelioration of their
condition.
For a professed philanthropist, I should deem it cruel and hypocritical
to waste time and space in the discussion of a subject, ever so
interesting, (though unimportant), when the present condition and
prospects of these people are calling so loudly upon the world for
justice, and for mercy; and when their evanescent existence and customs
are turning, as it were, on a wheel before us, but soon to be lost;
whilst the mystery of their origin can as well be fathomed at a future
day as now, and recorded with their exit.
Very many people look upon the savages of this vast country, as an
“_Anomaly in Nature_;” and their existence and origin, and locality,
things that needs must be at once accounted for.
Now, if the world will allow me, (and perhaps they may think me
singular for saying it), I would say, that these things are, in my
opinion, natural and simple; and, like all other works of Nature,
destined to remain a mystery to mortal man; and if man be anywhere
entitled to the name of an anomaly, it is he who has departed the
farthest from the simple walks and actions of his nature.
It seems natural to enquire at once who these people are, and from
whence they came; but this question is natural, only because we are out
of nature. To an Indian, such a question would seem absurd—he would
stand aghast and astounded at the _anomaly_ before _him_—himself upon
his own ground, “where the Great Spirit made him”—hunting in his own
forests; if an exotic, with a “pale face,” and from across the ocean,
should stand before him, to ask him where he came from, and how he got
there!
I would invite this querist, this votary of science, to sit upon a log
with his red acquaintance, and answer the following questions:—
“You white man, where you come from?”
“From England, across the water.”
“How white man come to see England? how you face come to get white, ha?”
I never yet have been made to see the _necessity_ of showing how these
people _came here_, or that they _came here_ at all; which might easily
have been done, by the way of Behring’s Straits from the North of Asia.
I should much rather dispense with such a _necessity_, than undertake
the other necessities that must follow the establishment of this;
those of showing how the savages paddled or drifted in their canoes
from this Continent, after they had got here, or from the Asiatic
Coast, and landed on all the South Sea Islands, which we find to be
inhabited nearly to the South Pole. For myself I am quite satisfied
with the fact, which is a thing certain, and to be relied on, that this
Continent was found peopled in every part, by savages; and so, nearly
every Island in the South Seas, at the distance of several thousand
miles from either Continent; and I am quite willing to surrender the
mystery to abler pens than my own—to theorists who may have the time,
and the means to prove to the world, how those rude people wandered
there in their bark canoes, without water for their subsistence, or
compasses to guide them on their way.
The North American Indians, and all the inhabitants of the South Sea
Islands, speaking some two or three hundred different languages,
entirely dissimilar, may have all sprung from one stock; and the
Almighty, after creating man. for some reason that is unfathomable
to human wisdom, might have left the whole vast universe, with its
severed continents, and its thousand distant isles everywhere teeming
with necessaries and luxuries, spread out for man’s use; and there
to vegetate and rot, for hundreds and even thousands of centuries,
until ultimate, _abstract_ accident should throw him amongst these
infinite mysteries of creation; the least and most insignificant of
which have been created and placed by design. Human reason is weak,
and human ignorance is palpable, when man attempts to approach these
unsearchable mysteries; and I consider human discretion well applied,
when it beckons him back to things that he can comprehend; where his
reason, and all his mental energies can be employed for the advancement
and benefit of his species. With this conviction, I feel disposed to
retreat to the ground that I have before occupied—to the Indians, as
they are, and _where_ they are; recording amongst them living evidences
whilst they live, for the use of abler theorists than myself—who may
labour to establish their origin, which may be as well (and perhaps
better) done, a century hence, than at the present day.
The reader is apprised, that I have nearly filled the limits allotted
to these epistles; and I assure him that a vast deal which I have seen
must remain untold—whilst from the same necessity, I must tell him much
less than I think, and beg to be pardoned if I withhold, till some
future occasion, many of my reasons for, _thinking_.
I believe, with many others, that the North American Indians are a
mixed people—that they have Jewish blood in their veins, though I would
not assert, as some have undertaken to prove, “_that they are Jews_,”
or that they are “_the ten lost tribes of Israel_.” From the character
and conformation of their heads, I am compelled to look upon them as an
amalgam race, but still savages; and from many of their customs, which
seem to me, to be peculiarly Jewish, as well as from the character of
their heads, I am forced to believe that some part of those ancient
tribes, who have been dispersed by Christians in so many ways, and
in so many different eras, have found their way To this country,
where they have entered amongst the native stock, and have lived and
intermarried with the Indians, until their identity has been swallowed
up and lost in the greater numbers of their new acquaintance, save the
bold and decided character which they have bequeathed to the Indian
races; and such of their customs as the Indians were pleased to adopt,
and which they have preserved to the present day.
I am induced to believe thus from the very many customs which I have
witnessed amongst them, that appear to be decidedly Jewish; and many of
them so peculiarly so, that it would seem almost impossible, or at all
events, exceedingly improbable, that two people in a state of nature
should have hit upon them, and practiced them exactly alike.
The world need not expect me to _decide_ so interesting and difficult
a question; but I am sure they will be disposed to hear simply my
opinion, which I give in this place, quite briefly, and with the utmost
respectful deference to those who think differently. I claim no merit
whatever, for advancing such an opinion, which is not new, having been
in several works advanced to the world by far abler pens than my own,
with volumes of evidence, to the catalogue of which, I feel quite
sure I shall be able to add some new proofs in the proper place. If
I could establish the fact by positive proof, I should claim a great
deal of applause from the world, and should, no doubt, obtain it; but,
like everything relating to the origin and early history of these
unchronicled people, I believe this question is one that will never be
settled, but will remain open for the opinions of the world, which will
be variously given, and that upon circumstantial evidence alone.
I am compelled to believe that the Continent of America, and each
of the other Continents, have had their aboriginal stocks, peculiar
in colour and in character—and that each of these native stocks has
undergone repeated mutations (at periods, of which history has kept no
records), by erratic colonies from abroad, that have been engrafted
upon them—mingling with them, and materially affecting their original
character. By this process, I believe that the North American Indians,
even where we find them in their wildest condition, are several
degrees removed from their original character; and that one of their
principal alloys has been a part of those dispersed people, who have
mingled their blood and their customs with them, and even in their new
disguise, seem destined to be followed up with oppression and endless
persecution.
The first and most striking fact amongst the North American Indians
that refers us to the Jews, is that of their worshipping in all parts,
the Great Spirit, or Jehovah, as the Hebrews were ordered to do by
Divine precept, instead of a plurality of gods, as ancient pagans and
heathens did—and their idols of their own formation. The North American
Indians, are nowhere _idolaters_—they appeal at once to the Great
Spirit, and know of no mediator, either personal or symbolical.
The Indian tribes are everywhere divided into bands, with chiefs,
symbols, badges, &c., and many of their modes of worship I have found
exceedingly like those of the Mosaic institution. The Jews had their
_sanctum sanctorums_, and so may it be said the Indians have, in their
council or medicine-houses, which are always held as sacred places. As
the Jews had, they have their high-priests and their prophets. Amongst
the Indians as amongst the ancient Hebrews, the women are not allowed
to worship with the men—and in all cases also, they eat separately.
The Indians everywhere, like the Jews, believe that they are the
favourite people of the Great Spirit, and they are certainly, like
those ancient people, _persecuted_, as every man’s hand seems raised
against them—and they, like the Jews, destined to be dispersed over the
world, and seemingly scourged by the Almighty, and despised of man.
In their marriages, the Indians, as did the ancient Jews, uniformly
buy their wives by giving presents—and in many tribes, very closely
resemble them in other forms and ceremonies of their marriages.
In their preparations for war, and in peace-making, they are strikingly
similar. In their treatment of the sick, burial of the dead and
mourning, they are also similar.
In their bathing and ablutions, at all seasons of the year, as a part
of their religious observances—having separate places for men and women
to perform these immersions—they resemble again. And the custom amongst
the women, of absenting themselves during the lunar influences, is
exactly consonant to the Mosaic law. This custom of _separation_ is an
uniform one amongst the different tribes, as far as I have seen them in
their primitive state, and be it Jewish, natural or conventional, it is
an indispensable form with these wild people, who are setting to the
civilized world, this and many other examples of decency and propriety,
only to be laughed at by their wiser neighbours, who, rather than award
to the red man any merit for them, have taken exceeding pains to call
them but the results of ignorance and superstition.
So, in nearly every family of a tribe, will be found a small lodge,
large enough to contain one person, which is erected at a little
distance from the family lodge, and occupied by the wife or the
daughter, to whose possession circumstances allot it; where she dwells
alone until she is prepared to move back, and in the meantime the
touch of her hand or her finger to the chief’s lodge, or his gun, or
other article of his household, consigns it to destruction at once;
and in case of non-conformity to this indispensable form, a woman’s
life may, in some tribes, be answerable for misfortunes that happen to
individuals or the tribe, in the interim.
After this season of separation, _purification_ in running water, and
_annointing_, precisely in accordance with the Jewish command, is
requisite before she can enter the family lodge. Such is one of the
extraordinary observances amongst these people in their wild state; but
along the Frontier, where white people have laughed at them for their
forms, they have departed from this, as from nearly everything else
that is native and original about them.
In their _feasts_, _fastings_ and _sacrificing_, they are exceedingly
like those ancient people. Many of them have a feast closely resembling
the annual feast of the Jewish passover; and amongst others, an
occasion much like the Israelitish feast of the tabernacles, which
lasted eight days, (when history tells us they carried bundles of
_willow boughs_, and fasted several days and nights) making sacrifices
of the first fruits and best of everything, closely resembling the
sin-offering and peace-offering of the Hebrews.[41]
These, and many others of their customs would seem to be decidedly
Jewish; yet it is for the world to decide how many of them, or whether
all of them, might be natural to all people, and, therefore, as well
practiced by these people in a state of nature, as to have been
borrowed from a foreign nation.
Amongst the list of their customs however, we meet a number which
had their origin it would seem, in the Jewish Ceremonial code, and
which are so very _peculiar_ in their forms, that it would seem quite
improbable, and almost impossible, that two different people should
ever have hit upon them alike, without some knowledge of each other.
These I consider, go farther than anything else as evidence, and
carry, in my mind, conclusive proof that these people are tinctured
with Jewish blood; even though the Jewish sabbath has been lost,
and circumcision probably rejected; and dog’s flesh, which was an
abomination to the Jews, continued to be eaten at their feasts by all
the tribes of Indians; not because the Jews have been prevailed upon to
use it, but, because they have survived only, as their blood was mixed
with that of the Indians, and the Indians have imposed on that mixed
blood the same rules and regulations that governed the members of the
tribes in general.
Many writers are of opinion, that the natives of America are all
from one stock, and their languages from one root—that that stock is
exotic, and that that language was introduced with it. And the reason
assigned for this theory is, that amongst the various tribes, there
is a reigning similarity in looks—and in their languages a striking
resemblance to each other.
Now, if all the world were to argue in this way, I should reason just
in the other; and pronounce this, though evidence to a certain degree,
to be very far from conclusive, inasmuch as it is far easier and more
natural for distinct tribes, or languages, grouped and used together,
to _assimilate_ than to _dissimilate_; as the pebbles on a sea-shore,
that are washed about and jostled together, lose their angles, and
incline at last to one rounded and uniform shape. So that if there had
been, _ab origine_, a variety of different stocks in America, with
different complexions, with different characters and customs, and of
different statures, and speaking entirely different tongues; where they
have been for a series of centuries living neighbours to each other,
moving about and intermarrying; I think we might reasonably look for
quite as great a similarity in their personal appearance and languages,
as we now find; when, on the other hand, if we are to suppose that
they were all from one foreign stock, with but one language, it is
a difficult thing to conceive how or in what space of time, or for
what purpose, they could have formed so many tongues, and so widely
different, as those that are now spoken on the Continent.
It is evident I think, that if an island or continent had been peopled
with black, white and red; a succession of revolving centuries of
intercourse amongst these different colours would have had a tendency
to bring them to one standard complexion, when no computable space
of time, nor any conceivable circumstances could restore them again;
reproducing all, or either of the distinct colours, from the compound.
That _customs_ should be found similar, or many of them exactly the
same, on the most opposite parts of the Continent, is still less
surprising; for these will travel more rapidly, being more easily
taught at Treaties and festivals between hostile bands, or disseminated
by individuals travelling through neighbouring tribes, whilst languages
and blood require more time for their admixture.
That the languages of the North American Indians, should be found to be
so numerous at this day, and so very many of them radically different,
is a subject of great surprise, and unaccountable, whether these people
are derived from one individual stock, or from one hundred, or one
thousand.
Though languages like colour and like customs, are calculated to
assimilate, under the circumstances above named; yet it is evident
that, (if derived from a variety of sources), they have been
unaccountably kept more distinct than the others; and if from one
root, have still more unaccountably dissimulated and divided into at
least one hundred and fifty, two-thirds of which, I venture to say,
are entirely and radically distinct; whilst amongst the people who
speak them, there is a reigning similarity in looks, in features and
in customs, which would go very far to pronounce them one family, by
nature or by convention.
I do not believe, with some very learned and distinguished writers,
that the languages of the North American Indians can be traced to one
root or to three or four, or any number of distinct idioms; nor do
I believe all, or any one of them, will ever be fairly traced to a
foreign origin.
If the looks and customs of the Jews, are decidedly found and
identified with these people—and also those of the Japanese, and Calmuc
Tartars, I think we have but little, if any need of looking for the
Hebrew language, or either of the others, for the reasons that I have
already given; for the feeble colonies of these, or any other foreign
people that might have fallen by accident upon the shores of this great
Continent, or who might have approached it by Behring’s Straits, have
been too feeble to give a language to fifteen or twenty millions of
people, or in fact to any portion of them; being in all probability,
in great part cut to pieces and destroyed by a natural foe; leaving
enough perhaps, who had intermarried, to innoculate their blood and
their customs; which have run, like a drop in a bucket, and slightly
tinctured the character of tribes who have sternly resisted their
languages, which would naturally, under such circumstances, have made
but very little impression.
Such I consider the condition of the Jews in North America; and perhaps
the Scandanavians, and the followers of Madoc, who by some means, and
some period that I cannot name, have thrown themselves upon the shores
of this country, and amongst the ranks of the savages; where, from
destructive wars with their new neighbours, they have been overpowered,
and perhaps, with the exception of those who had intermarried, they
have been destroyed, yet leaving amongst the savages decided marks of
their character; and many of their peculiar customs, which had pleased,
and been adopted by the savages, while they had sternly resisted
others: and decidedly shut out and discarded their language, and of
course obliterated everything of their history.
That there should often be found contiguous to each other, several
tribes speaking dialects of the same language, is a matter of no
surprise at all; and wherever such is the case, there is resemblance
enough also, in looks and customs, to show that they are parts of the
same tribes, which have comparatively recently severed and wandered
apart, as their traditions will generally show; and such resemblances
are often found and traced, nearly across the Continent, and have
been accounted for in some of my former Letters. Several very learned
gentlemen, whose opinions I would treat with the greatest respect,
have supposed that all the native languages of America were traceable
to three or four roots; a position which I will venture to say will be
an exceedingly difficult one for them to maintain, whilst remaining
at home and consulting books, in the way that too many theories are
supported; and one infinitely more difficult to prove if they travel
amongst the different tribes, and collect their own information as
they travel.[42] I am quite certain that I have found in a number of
instances, tribes who have long lived neighbours to each other, and
who, from continued intercourse, had learned mutually, many words of
each others language, and adopted them for common use or mottoes, as
often, or oftener than we introduce the French or Latin phrases in our
conversation; from which the casual visitor to one of these tribes,
might naturally suppose there was a similarity in their languages;
when a closer examiner would find that the idioms and structure of the
several languages were entirely distinct.
I believe that in this way, the world who take but a superficial glance
at them, are, and will be, led into continual error on this interesting
subject; one that invites, and well deserves from those learned
gentlemen, a fair investigation by them, _on the spot_; rather than so
limited and feeble an examination as _I_ have been able to make of it,
or that _they, can_ make, in their parlours, at so great a distance
from them, and through such channels as they are obliged to look to for
their information.
Amongst the tribes that I have visited, I consider that thirty, out
of the forty-eight, are distinct and radically different in their
languages, and eighteen are dialects of some three or four. It is a
very simple thing for the off-hand theorists of the scientific world,
who do not go near these people, to arrange and classify them; and
a very clever thing to _simplify_ the subject, and bring it, like
everything else, under three or four heads, and to solve, and resolve
it, by as many simple rules.
I do not pretend to be able to give to this subject, or to that of the
probable origin of these people, the close investigation that these
interesting subjects require and deserve; yet I have travelled and
observed enough amongst them, and collected enough, to enable me to
form decided opinions of my own; and in my conviction, have acquired
confidence enough to tell them, and at the same time to recommend to
the Government or institutions of my own country, to employ men of
science, such as I have mentioned, and protect them in their _visits
to_ these tribes, where “the truth, and the whole truth” may be got;
and the languages of all the tribes that are yet in existence, (many
of which are just now gasping them out in their last breath,) may be
snatched and preserved from oblivion; as well as their _looks_ and
their _customs_, to the preservation of which _my_ labours have been
principally devoted.
I undertake to say to such gentlemen, who are enthusiastic and
qualified, that here is one of the most interesting subjects that they
could spend the energies of their valuable lives upon, and one the most
sure to secure for them that immortality for which it is natural and
fair for all men to look.
From what has been said in the foregoing Letters, it will have been
seen that there are three divisions under which the North American
Indians may be justly considered; those who are dead—those who are
dying, and those who are yet living and flourishing in their primitive
condition. Of the _dead_, I have little to say at present, and I can
render them no service—of the _living_, there is much to be said, and I
shall regret that the prescribed limits of these epistles, will forbid
me saying all that I desire to say of them and their condition.
The present condition of these once numerous people, contrasted with
what, it was, and what it is soon to be, is a subject of curious
interest, as well as some importance, to the civilized world—a
subject well entitled to the attention, and very justly commanding
the sympathies of, enlightened communities. There are abundant proofs
recorded in the history of this country, and to which I need not at
this time more particularly refer, to shew that this very numerous and
respectable part of the human family, which occupied the different
parts of North America, at the time of its first settlement by the
Anglo-Americans, contained more than fourteen millions, who have
been reduced since that time, and undoubtedly in consequence of that
settlement, to something less than two millions!
This is a startling fact, and one which carries with it, if it be the
truth, other facts and their results, which are equally startling, and
such as every inquiring mind should look into. The first deduction that
the mind draws from such premises, is the rapid declension of these
people, which must at that rate be going on at this day; and sooner or
later, lead to the most melancholy result of their final extinction.
Of this sad termination of their existence, there need not be a doubt
in the minds of any man who will read the history of their former
destruction; contemplating them swept already from two-thirds of the
Continent; and who will then travel as I have done, over the vast
extent of Frontier, and witness the modes by which the poor fellows are
falling, whilst contending for their rights, with acquisitive white
men. Such a reader, and such a traveller, I venture to say, if he has
not the heart of a brute, will shed tears for them; and be ready to
admit that their character and customs, are at _this time_, a subject
of interest and importance, and rendered peculiarly so from the facts
that they are dying _at the hands_ of their Christian neighbours; and,
from all past experience, that there will probably be no effectual plan
instituted, that will save the remainder of them from a similar fate.
As they stand at this day, there may be four or five hundred thousand
in their primitive state; and a million and a half, that may be said to
be semi-civilized, contending with the sophistry of white men, amongst
whom they are timidly and unsuccessfully endeavouring to hold up their
heads, and aping their modes; whilst they are swallowing their poisons,
and yielding their lands and their lives, to the superior tact and
cunning of their merciless cajolers.
In such parts of their community, their customs are uninteresting;
being but poor and ridiculous imitations of those that are _bad
enough_, those practiced by their first teachers—but in their primitive
state, their modes of life and character, before they are changed, are
subjects of curious interest, and all that I have aimed to preserve.
Their personal appearance, their dress, and many of their modes of
life, I have already described.
For their Government, which is purely such as has been dictated to them
by Nature and necessity alone, they are indebted to no foreign, native
or civilized nation. For their religion, which is simply Theism, they
are indebted to the Great Spirit, and not to the Christian world. For
their modes of war, they owe nothing to enlightened nations—using only
those weapons and those modes which are prompted by nature, and within
the means of their rude manufactures.
If, therefore, we do not find in their systems of polity and
jurisprudence, the efficacy and justice that are dispensed in
civilized institutions—if we do not find in their religion the light
and the grace that flow from Christian faith—if in wars they are less
honourable, and wage them upon a system of “_murderous stratagem_,”
it is the duty of the enlightened world, who administer justice in a
better way—who worship in a more acceptable form—and who war on a more
_honourable_ scale, to make great allowance for their ignorance, and
yield to their credit, the fact, that if their systems are less wise,
they are often more free from injustice—from hypocrisy and from carnage.
Their Governments, if they have any (for I am almost disposed to
question the propriety of applying the term), are generally alike;
each tribe having at its head, a chief (and most generally a war and
civil chief), whom it would seem, alternately hold the ascendency,
as the circumstances of peace or war may demand their respective
services. These chiefs, whose titles are generally hereditary, hold
their offices only as long as their ages will enable them to perform
the duties of them by taking the lead in war-parties, &c., after which
they devolve upon the next incumbent, who is the eldest son of the
chief, provided he is decided by the other chiefs to be as worthy of
it as any other young man in the tribe—in default of which, a chief is
elected from amongst the sub-chiefs; so that the office is _hereditary
on condition_, and _elective_ in _emergency_.
The chief has no controul over the life or limbs, or liberty of his
subjects, nor other power whatever, excepting that of _influence_ which
he gains by his virtues, and his exploits in war, and which induces
his warriors and braves to follow him, as he leads them to battle—or
to listen to him when he speaks and advises in council. In fact, he is
no more than a _leader_, whom every young warrior may follow, or turn
about and go back from, as he pleases, if he is willing to meet the
disgrace that awaits him, who deserts his chief in the hour of danger.
It may be a difficult question to decide, whether their Government
savours most of a democracy or an aristocracy; it is in some respects
purely democratic—and in others aristocratic. The influence of names
and families is strictly kept up, and their qualities and relative
distinctions preserved in heraldric family Arms; yet entirely severed,
and free from influences of wealth, which is seldom amassed by any
persons in Indian communities; and most sure to slip from the hands of
chiefs, or others high in office, who are looked upon to be liberal
and charitable; and oftentimes, for the sake of popularity, render
themselves the poorest, and most meanly dressed and equipped of any in
the tribe.
These people have no written laws, nor others, save the penalties
affixed to certain crimes, by long-standing custom, or by the
decisions of the chiefs in council, who form a sort of Court and
Congress too, for the investigation of crimes, and transaction of the
public business. For the sessions of these dignitaries, each tribe
has, in the middle of their village, a Government or council-house,
where the chiefs often try and convict, for capital offences—leaving
the punishment to be inflicted by the nearest of kin, to whom all eyes
of the nation are turned, and who has no means of evading it without
suffering disgrace in his tribe. For this purpose, the custom, which
is the common law of the land, allows him to use any means whatever,
that he may deem necessary to bring the thing effectually about; and he
is allowed to _waylay_ and shoot down the criminal—so that punishment
is _certain_ and _cruel_, and as effective from the hands of a feeble,
as from those of a stout man, and entirely beyond the hope that often
arises from the “glorious uncertainty of the law.”
As I have in a former place said, cruelty is one of the leading traits
of the Indian’s character; and a little familiarity with their modes of
life and government will soon convince the reader, that _certainty_ and
_cruelty_ in punishments are requisite (where individuals undertake to
inflict the penalties of the laws), in order to secure the lives and
property of individuals in society.
In the treatment of their prisoners also, in many tribes, they are
in the habit of inflicting the most appalling tortures, for which
the enlightened world are apt to condemn them as cruel and unfeeling
in the extreme; without stopping to learn that in every one of these
instances, these cruelties are practiced by way of retaliation, by
individuals or families of the tribe, whose relatives have been
previously dealt with in a similar way by their enemies, and whose
_manes_ they deem it their duty to appease by this horrid and cruel
mode of retaliation.
And in justice to the savage, the reader should yet know, that
amongst these tribes that torture their prisoners, these cruelties
are practiced but upon the few whose lives are required to atone for
those who have been similarly dealt with by their enemies, and that the
_remainder are adopted into the tribe_, by marrying the widows whose
husbands have fallen in battle, in which capacity they are received
and respected like others of the tribe, and enjoy equal rights and
immunities. And before we condemn them too far, we should yet pause and
enquire whether in the enlightened world we are not guilty of equal
cruelties—whether in the ravages and carnage of war, and treatment
of prisoners, we practice any virtue superior to this; and whether
the annals of history which are familiar to all, do not furnish
abundant proof of equal cruelty to prisoners of war, as well as in
many instances, to the members of our own respective communities. It
is a remarkable fact and one well recorded in history, as it deserves
to be, to the honour of the savage, that no instance has been known
of violence to their captive females, a virtue yet to be learned in
civilized warfare.
If their punishments are certain and cruel, they have the merit of
being _few_, and those confined chiefly to their enemies.
It is natural to be cruel to enemies; and in this, I do not see
that the improvements of the enlightened and Christian world have
yet elevated them so very much above the savage. To their friends,
there are no people on earth that are more kind; and cruelties and
punishments (except for capital offences) are amongst themselves,
entirely dispensed with. No man in their communities is subject to
any restraints upon his liberty, or to any corporal or degrading
punishment; each one valuing his limbs, and his liberty to use them as
his inviolable right, which no power in the tribe can deprive him of;
whilst each one holds the chief as amenable to him as the most humble
individual in the tribe.
[Illustration: 306]
[Illustration: 307]
[Illustration: 308]
On an occasion when I had interrogated a Sioux chief, on the Upper
Missouri, about their Government—their punishments and tortures of
prisoners, for which I had freely condemned them for the cruelty of the
practice, he took occasion when I had got through, to ask _me_ some
questions relative to modes in the _civilized world_, which, with his
comments upon them, were nearly as follow; and struck me, as I think
they must every one, with great force.
“Among white people, nobody ever take your wife—take your children—take
your mother, cut off nose—cut eyes out—burn to death?” No! “Then _you_
no cut off nose—_you_ no cut out eyes—_you_ no burn to death—very good.”
He also told me he had often heard that white people hung their
criminals by the neck and choked them to death like dogs, and those
their own people; to which I answered, “yes.” He then told me he had
learned that they shut each other up in prisons, where they keep them a
great part of their lives _because they can’t pay money_! I replied in
the affirmative to this, which occasioned great surprise and excessive
laughter, even amongst the women. He told me that he had been to our
Fort, at Council Bluffs, where we had a great many warriors and braves,
and he saw three of them taken out on the prairies and tied to a post
and whipped almost to death, and he had been told that they submit to
all this to get a little money, “yes.” He said he had been told, that
when all the white people were born, their white _medicine-men_ had to
stand by and look on—that in the Indian country the women would not
allow that—they would be ashamed—that he had been along the Frontier,
and a good deal amongst the white people, and he had seen them whip
their little children—a thing that is very cruel—he had heard also,
from several white _medicine-men_, that the Great Spirit of the white
people was the child of a white woman, and that he was at last put to
death by the white people! This seemed to be a thing that he had not
been able to comprehend, and he concluded by saying, “the Indians’
Great Spirit got no mother—the Indians no kill him, he never die.” He
put me a chapter of other questions, as to the trespasses of the white
people on their lands—their continual corruption of the morals of their
women—and digging open the Indians’ graves to get their bones, &c. To
all of which I was compelled to reply in the affirmative, and quite
glad to close my note-book, and quietly to escape from the throng that
had collected around me, and saying (though to myself and silently),
that these and an hundred other vices belong to the civilized world,
and are practiced upon (but certainly, in no instance, reciprocated by)
the “cruel and relentless savage.”
Of their modes of war, of which, a great deal has been written by
other travellers—I could say much, but in the present place, must be
brief. All wars, offensive or defensive, are decided on by the chiefs
and doctors in council, where majority decides all questions. After
their resolve, the chief conducts and leads—his pipe with the reddened
stem is sent through the tribe by his _runners_, and every man who
consents to go to war, draws the smoke once through its stem; he is
then a _volunteer_, like all of their soldiers in war, and bound by
no compulsive power, except that of pride, and dread of the disgrace
of turning back. After the soldiers are enlisted, the war-dance
is performed in presence of the whole tribe; when each warrior in
warrior’s dress, with weapons in hand, dances up separately, and
striking the reddened post, thereby takes the solemn oath not to desert
his party.
The chief leads in full dress to make himself as conspicuous a mark as
possible for his enemy; whilst his men are chiefly denuded, and their
limbs and faces covered with red earth or vermilion, and oftentimes
with charcoal and grease, so as completely to disguise them, even from
the knowledge of many of their intimate friends.
At the close of hostilities, the two parties are often brought together
by a flag of truce, where they sit in Treaty, and solemnize by smoking
through the calumet or pipe of peace, as I have before described; and
after that, their warriors and braves step forward, with the pipe of
peace in the left hand, and the war-club in the right, and dance around
in a circle—going through many curious and exceedingly picturesque
evolutions in the “_pipe of peace dance_.”
To each other I have found these people kind and honourable, and
endowed with every feeling of parental, of filial, and conjugal
affection, that is met in more enlightened communities. I have found
them moral and religious: and I am bound to give them great credit for
their zeal, which is often exhibited in their modes of worship, however
insufficient they may seem to us, or may be in the estimation of the
Great Spirit.
I have heard it said by some very good men, and some who have even
been preaching the Christian religion amongst them, that they have
no religion—that all their zeal in their worship of the Great Spirit
was but the foolish excess of ignorant superstition—that their humble
devotions and supplications to the Sun and the Moon, where many of them
suppose that the Great Spirit resides, were but the absurd rantings of
idolatry. To such opinions as these I never yet gave answer, nor drew
other instant inferences from them, than, that from the bottom of my
heart, I pitied the persons who gave them.
I fearlessly assert to the world, (and I defy contradiction,) that the
North American Indian is everywhere, in his native state, a highly
moral and religious being, endowed by his Maker, with an intuitive
knowledge of some great Author of his being, and the Universe; in dread
of whose displeasure he constantly lives, with the apprehension before
him, of a future state, where he expects to be rewarded or punished
according to the merits he has gained or forfeited in this world.
I have made this a subject of unceasing enquiry during all my travels,
and from every individual Indian with whom I have conversed on the
subject, from the highest to the lowest and most pitiably ignorant,
I have received evidence enough, as well as from their numerous
and humble modes of worship, to convince the mind, and elicit the
confessions of, any man whose gods are not beaver and muskrats’
skins—or whose ambition is not to be deemed an apostle, or himself,
their only redeemer.
Morality and virtue, I venture to say, the civilized world need not
undertake to teach them; and to support me in this, I refer the reader
to the interesting narrative of the Rev. Mr. Parker, amongst the tribes
through and beyond the Rocky Mountains; to the narratives of Captain
Bonneville, through the same regions; and also to the reports of the
Reverend Messrs. Spalding and Lee, who have crossed the Mountains, and
planted their little colony amongst them. And I am also allowed to
refer to the account given by the Rev. Mr. Beaver, of the tribes in the
vicinity of the Columbia and the Pacific Coast.
Of their extraordinary modes and sincerity of worship, I speak with
equal confidence; and although I am compelled to pity them for their
ignorance, I am bound to say that I never saw any other people of any
colour, who spend _so much of their lives_ in humbling themselves
before, and worshipping the Great Spirit, as some of these tribes do,
nor any whom I would not as soon suspect of insincerity and hypocrisy.
Self-denial, which is comparatively a word of no meaning in the
enlightened world; and self-torture and almost self-immolation, are
continual modes of appealing to the Great Spirit for his countenance
and forgiveness; and these, not in studied figures of rhetoric,
resounding in halls and synagogues, to fill and astonish the ears of
the multitude; but humbly cried forth from starved stomachs and parched
throats, from some lone and favourite haunts, where the poor penitents
crawl and lay with their faces in the dirt from day to day, and day to
day, sobbing forth their humble confessions of their sins, and their
earnest implorations for divine forgiveness and mercy.
I have seen man thus prostrating himself before his Maker, and
worshipping as Nature taught him; and I have seen mercenary white man
with his bottle and its associate vices, _unteaching_ them; and after
that, good and benevolent and pious men, devotedly wearing out their
valuable lives, all but in vain, endeavouring to break down confirmed
habits of cultivated vices and dissipation, and to engraft upon them
the blessings of Christianity and civilization. I have visited
most of the stations, and am acquainted with many of the excellent
missionaries, who, with their families falling by the diseases of the
country about them, are zealously labouring to benefit these benighted
people; but I have, with thousands and millions of others, to deplore
the ill success with which their painful and faithful labours have
generally been attended.
This failure I attribute not to the want of capacity on the part of the
savage, nor for lack of zeal and Christian endeavours of those who have
been sent, and to whom the eyes of the sympathizing part of the world
have been anxiously turned, in hopes of a more encouraging account.
The misfortune has been, in my opinion, that these efforts have mostly
been made in the wrong place—along the Frontier, where (though they
have stood most in need of Christian advice and example) they have
been the least ready to hear it or to benefit from its introduction;
where whiskey has been sold for twenty, or thirty, or fifty years, and
every sort of fraud and abuse that could be engendered and visited upon
them, and amongst their families, by ingenious, _money-making_ white
man; rearing up under a burning sense of injustice, the most deadly and
thwarting prejudices, which, and which alone, in my opinion, have stood
in the way of the introduction of Christianity—of agriculture, and
everything which virtuous society has attempted to teach them; which
they meet and suspect, and reject as some new trick or enterprize of
white man, which is to redound to his advantage rather than for their
own benefit.
The pious missionary finds himself here, I would venture to say, in
an indescribable vicinity of mixed vices and stupid ignorance, that
disgust and discourage him; and just at the moment when his new theory,
which has been at first received as a mystery to them, is about to be
successfully revealed and explained, the whiskey bottle is handed again
from the bushes; and the poor Indian (whose perplexed mind is just
ready to catch the brilliant illumination of Christianity), grasps it,
and, like too many people in the enlightened world, quiets his excited
feelings with its soothing draught, embracing most affectionately the
friend that brings him the most sudden relief; and is contented to fall
back, and linger—and die in the moral darkness that is about him.
And notwithstanding the great waste of missionary labours, on many
portions of our vast Frontier, there have been some instances in
which their efforts have been crowned with signal success, (even with
the counteracting obstacles that have stood in their way), of which
instances I have made some mention in former epistles.
I have always been, and still am, an advocate for missionary efforts
amongst these people, but I never have had much faith in the success
of any unless they could be made amongst the tribes in their primitive
state; where, if the strong arm of the Government could be extended
out to protect them, I believe that with the example of good and pious
men, teaching them at the same time, agriculture and the useful arts,
much could be done with these interesting and talented people, for the
successful improvement of their moral and physical condition.
I have ever thought, and still think, that the Indian’s mind is a
beautiful blank, on which anything might be written, if the right mode
were taken to do it.
Could the enlightened and virtuous society of the East, have been
brought in contact with him as his first neighbours, and his eyes been
first opened to improvements and habits worthy of his imitation; and
could religion have been taught him without the interference of the
counteracting vices by which he is surrounded, the best efforts of the
world would not have been thrown away upon him, nor posterity been left
to say, in future ages, when he and his race shall have been swept from
the face of the earth, that he was destined by Heaven to be unconverted
and uncivilized.
The Indian’s calamity is surely far this side of his origin—his
misfortune has been in his education. Ever since our first acquaintance
with these people on the Atlantic shores, have we regularly advanced
upon them; and far a-head of good and moral society have their first
teachers travelled (and are yet travelling), with vices and iniquities
so horrible as to blind their eyes for ever to the light and loveliness
of virtue, when she is presented to them.
It is in the bewildering maze of this moving atmosphere that he, in
his native simplicity, finds himself lost amidst the ingenuity and
sophistry of his new acquaintance. He stands amazed at the arts and
improvements of civilized life—his proud spirit which before was
founded on his ignorance, droops, and he sinks down discouraged, into
melancholy and despair; and at that moment grasps the bottle (which
is ever ready), to soothe his anguished feelings to the grave. It
is in this deplorable condition that the civilized world, in their
approach, have ever found him; and here in his inevitable misery, that
the charity of the world has been lavished upon him, and religion has
exhausted its best efforts almost in vain.
Notwithstanding this destructive ordeal, through which all the border
tribes have had to pass, and of whom I have spoken but in general
terms, there are striking and noble exceptions on the Frontiers, of
individuals, and in some instances, of the remaining remnants of
tribes, who have followed the advice and example of their Christian
teachers; who have entirely discarded their habits of dissipation,
and successfully outlived the dismal wreck of their tribe—having
embraced, and are now preaching, the Christian religion; and proving
by the brightest example, that they are well worthy of the sincere and
well-applied friendship of the enlightened world, rather than their
enmity and persecution.
By nature they are decent and modest, unassuming and inoffensive—and
all history (which I could quote to the end of a volume), proves them
to have been found friendly and hospitable, on the first approach
of white people to their villages on all parts of the American
Continent—and from what I have _seen_, (which I offer as proof, rather
than what I have _read_). I am willing and proud to add, for the ages
who are only to read of these people, my testimony to that which was
given by the immortal Columbus, who wrote back to his Royal Master and
Mistress, from his first position on the new Continent, “I swear to
your Majesties, that there is not a better people in the world than
these; more affectionate, affable, or mild. They love their neighbours
as themselves, and they always speak smilingly.”
They are ingenious and talented, as many of their curious manufactures
will prove, which are seen by thousands in my Collection.
In the _mechanic arts_ they have advanced but little, probably because
they have had but little use for them, and have had no teachers to
bring them out. In the _fine arts_, they are perhaps still more rude,
and their productions are very few. Their materials and implements that
they work with, are exceedingly rare and simple; and their principal
efforts at pictorial effects, are found on their buffalo robes; of
which I have given some account in former Letters, and of which I shall
herein furnish some additional information.
I have been unable to find anything like a _system_ of hieroglyphic
writing amongst them; yet, their _picture writings_ on the rocks, and
on their robes, approach somewhat towards it. Of the former, I have
seen a vast many in the course of my travels; and I have satisfied
myself that they are generally the _totems_ (symbolic names) merely,
of Indians who have visited those places, and from a similar feeling
of vanity that everywhere belongs to man much alike, have been in the
habit of recording their names or symbols, such as birds, beasts, or
reptiles; by which each family, and each individual, is generally
known, as white men are in the habit of recording their names at
watering places, &c.
Many of these have recently been ascribed to the North-men, who
probably discovered this country at an early period, and have been
extinguished by the savage tribes. I might have subscribed to such a
theory, had I not at the Red Pipe Stone Quarry, where there are a vast
number of these inscriptions cut in the solid rock, and at other places
also, seen the Indian at work, recording his totem amongst those of
more ancient dates; which convinced me that they had been progressively
made, at different ages, and without any system that could be called
hieroglyphic writing.
The paintings on their robes are in many cases exceedingly curious, and
generally represent the exploits of their military lives, which they
are proud of recording in this way and exhibiting on their backs as
they walk.
In +plates+ 306 and 307, are _fac-similes_ of the paintings on a Crow
robe, which hangs in my Collection, amongst many others from various
tribes; exhibiting the different tastes, and state of the fine arts,
in the different tribes. All the groups on these two plates, are taken
from one robe; and on the original, are quite picturesque, from the
great variety of vivid colours which they have there given to them. The
reader will recollect the robe Of _Mah-to-toh-pa_, which I described
in the First Volume of this work. And he will find here, something
very similar, the battles of a distinguished war-chief’s life; all
pourtrayed by his own hand, and displayed on his back as he walks,
where all can read, and all of course are challenged to deny.[43]
In +plate+ 308, are _fac-simile_ outlines from about one-half of a
group on a Pawnee robe, also hanging in the exhibition; representing a
procession of doctors or medicine-men, when one of them, the foremost
one, is giving freedom to his favourite horse. This is a very curious
custom, which I found amongst many of the tribes, and is done by his
announcing to all of his fraternity, that on a certain day, he is
going to give liberty to his faithful horse that has longest served
him, and he expects them all to be present; at the time and place
appointed, they all appear on horseback, most fantastically painted,
and dressed, as well as armed and equipped; when the owner of the horse
leads the procession, and drives before him his emancipated horse,
which is curiously painted and branded; which he holds in check with a
long laso. When they have arrived at the proper spot on the prairie,
the ceremony takes place, of turning it loose, and giving it, it
would seem, as a sort of sacrifice to the Great Spirit. This animal
after this, takes his range amongst the bands of wild horses; and if
caught by the laso, as is often the case, is discharged, under the
superstitious belief that it belongs to the Great Spirit, and not with
impunity to be appropriated by them.
Besides this curious custom, there are very many instances where these
magicians, (the avails of whose practice enable them to do it, in order
to enthral the ignorant and superstitious minds of their people, as
well as, perhaps, to quiet their own apprehensions,) sacrifice to the
Great or Evil Spirit, their horses and dogs, by killing them instead of
turning them loose. These sacrifices are generally made _immediately_
to their _medicine-bags_, or to their _family-medicine_, which every
family seems to have attached to their household, in addition to
that which appropriately belongs to individuals. And in making these
sacrifices, and all gifts to the Great Spirit, there is one thing yet
to be told—that whatever gift is made, whether a horse, a dog, or
other article, it is sure to be the _best_ of its kind, that the giver
possesses, otherwise he subjects himself to disgrace in his tribe, and
to the ill-will of the power he is endeavouring to conciliate.[44]
In +plate+ 309, there is a _fac-simile_ copy of the paintings on
another Pawnee robe, the property and the designs of a distinguished
doctor or medicine-man. In the centre he has represented himself in
full dress on his favourite horse; and, at the top and bottom, it
would seem, he has endeavoured to set up his claims to the reputation
of a warrior, with the heads of seven victims which he professes to
have slain in battle. On the sides there are numerous figures, very
curiously denoting his profession, where he is vomiting and purging
his patients, with herbs; where also he has represented his _medicine_
or totem, the Bear. And also the rising of the sun, and the different
phases of the moon, which these magicians look to with great dependence
for the operation of their charms and mysteries in effecting the cure
of their patients.
In +plate+ 310, is a further exemplification of symbolic
representations, as well as of the state of the arts of drawing and
design amongst these rude people. This curious chart is a _fac-simile_
copy of an Indian song, which was drawn on a piece of birch bark, about
twice the size of the plate, and used by the Chippeways preparatory
to a _medicine-hunt_, as they term it. For the bear, the moose, the
beaver, and nearly every animal they hunt for, they have certain
seasons to commence, and previous to which, they “make medicine” for
several days, to conciliate the bear (or other) Spirit, to ensure a
successful season. For this purpose, these doctors, who are the only
persons, generally, who are initiated into these profound secrets,
sing forth, with the beat of the drum, the songs which are written in
characters on these charts, in which all dance and join in the chorus;
although they are generally as ignorant of the translation and meaning
of the song, as a mere passing traveller; and which they have no means
of learning, except by extraordinary claims upon the tribe, for their
services as warriors and hunters; and then by an extraordinary fee to
be given to the mystery-men, who alone can reveal them, and that under
the most profound injunctions of secrecy. I was not initiated far
enough in this tribe, to explain the mysteries that are hidden on this
little chart, though I heard it sung over, and listened, (I am sure) at
least one hour, before they had sung it all.
Of these kinds of _symbolic writings_, and totems, such as are given
in +plate+ 311, recorded on rocks and trees in the country, a volume
might be filled; and from the knowledge which I have been able to
obtain of them, I doubt whether I should be able to give with them
all, much additional information, to that which I have briefly given
in these few simple instances. Their _picture writing_, which is found
on their robes, their wigwams, and different parts of their dress, is
also voluminous and various; and can be best studied by the curious,
on the numerous articles in the Museum, where they have the additional
interest of having been traced by the Indian’s own hand.
In +plate+ 312, is also a _fac-simile_ of a Mandan robe, with a
representation of the sun, most wonderfully painted upon it. This
curious robe, which was a present from an esteemed friend of mine
amongst those unfortunate people, is now in my Collection; where it may
speak for itself, after this brief introduction.
[Illustration: 309]
[Illustration: 310]
[Illustration: 311]
[Illustration: 312]
From these brief hints, which I have too hastily thrown together,
it will be seen that these people are ingenious, and have much in
their modes as well as in their manners, to enlist the attention of
the merely curious, even if they should not be drawn nearer to them
by feelings of sympathy and pity for their existing and approaching
misfortunes.
But he who can travel amongst them, or even sit down in his parlour,
with his map of North America before him, with Halkett’s Notes on
the History of the North American Indians (and several other very
able works that have been written on their character and history),
and fairly and truly contemplate the system of universal abuse, that
is hurrying such a people to utter destruction, will find enough to
enlist all his sympathies, and lead him to cultivate a more general and
intimate acquaintance with their true character.
He who will sit and contemplate that vast Frontier, where, by the past
policy of the Government, one hundred and twenty thousand of these
poor people, (who had just got initiated into the mysteries and modes
of civilized life, surrounded by examples of industry and agriculture
which they were beginning to adopt), have been removed several hundred
miles to the West, to meet a second siege of the whiskey-sellers
and traders in the wilderness, to whose enormous exactions their
semi-civilized habits and appetites have subjected them, will assuredly
pity them. Where they have to quit their acquired luxuries, or pay
ten times their accustomed prices for them—and to scuffle for a few
years upon the plains, with the wild tribes, and with white men also,
for the flesh and the skins of the last of the buffaloes; where their
carnage, but not their _appetites_, must stop in a few years, and
with the ghastliness of hunger and despair, they will find themselves
gazing at each other upon the vacant waste, which will afford them
nothing but the empty air, and the desperate resolve to flee to the
woods and fastnesses of the Rocky Mountains; whilst more lucky white
man will return to his comfortable home, with no misfortune, save that
of _deep remorse_ and a _guilty conscience_. Such a reader will find
enough to claim his pity and engage his whole soul’s indignation, at
the wholesale and retail system of injustice, which has been, from
the very first landing of our forefathers, (and is equally at the
present day, being) visited upon these poor, and naturally unoffending,
untrespassing people.
In alluding to the cruel policy of removing the different tribes to
their new country, West of the Mississippi, I would not do it without
the highest respect to the motives of the Government—and to the
feelings and opinions of those worthy Divines, whose advice and whose
services were instrumental in bringing it about; and who, no doubt
were of opinion that they were effecting a plan that would redound to
the Indian’s benefit. Such was once my own opinion—but when I go, as I
have done, through every one of those tribes removed, who had learned
at home to use the ploughshare, and also contracted a passion, and
a taste for civilized manufactures; and after that, removed twelve
and fourteen hundred miles from their homes, to a district where
their wants are to be supplied by the traders, at eight or ten times
the prices they have been in the habit of paying; where whiskey can
easily be sold to them in a boundless and lawless forest, without the
restraints that can be successfully put upon the sellers of it in their
civilized neighbourhoods; and where also they are allured from the use
of their ploughs, by the herds of buffaloes and other wild animals on
the plains; I am compelled to state, as my irresistible conviction,
that I believe the system one well calculated to benefit the interests
of the voracious land-speculators and Indian Traders; the first of whom
are ready to grasp at their lands, as soon as they are vacated—and
the others, at the _annuities_ of one hundred and twenty thousand
extravagant customers. I believe the system is calculated to aid these,
and perhaps to facilitate the growth and the wealth of the civilized
border; but I believe, like everything else that tends to white man’s
aggrandizement, and the increase of his wealth, it will have as rapid
a tendency to the poverty and destruction of the poor _red men_;
who, unfortunately, _almost_ seem _doomed_, never in any way to be
associated in interest with their pale-faced neighbours.
The system of trade, and the small-pox, have been the great and
wholesale destroyers of these poor people, from the Atlantic Coast to
where they are now found. And no one but God, knows where the voracity
of the one is to stop, short of the acquisition of everything that is
desirable to money-making man in the Indian’s country; or when the
mortal destruction of the other is to be arrested, whilst there is
untried flesh for it to act upon, either within or beyond the Rocky
Mountains.
From the first settlements on the Atlantic Coast, to where it is now
carried on at the base of the Rocky Mountains, there has been but one
system of trade and money-making, by hundreds and thousands of white
men, who are desperately bent upon making their fortunes in this trade,
with the unsophisticated children of the forest; and generally they
have succeeded in the achievement of their object.
The Governments of the United States, and Great Britain, have always
held out every encouragement to the Fur Traders, whose traffic has
uniformly been looked upon as beneficial, and a source of wealth
to nations; though surely, they never could have considered such
intercourse as advantageous to the savage.
Besides the many thousands who are daily and hourly selling whiskey
and rum, and useless gewgaws, to the Indians on the United States, the
Canada, the Texan and Mexican borders, there are, of hardy adventurers,
in the Rocky Mountains and beyond, or near them, and out of all
limits of laws, one thousand armed men in the annual employ of the
United States’ Fur Companies—an equal number in the employment of the
British Factories, and twice that number in the Russian and Mexican
possessions; all of whom pervade the countries of the wildest tribes
they can reach, with guns and gunpowder in their hands, and other
instruments of death, unthought of by the simple savage, calculated
to terrify and coerce him to favourable terms in his trade; and in all
instances they assume the right, (and prove it, if necessary, by the
superiority of their weapons,) of hunting and trapping the streams and
lakes of their countries.
These traders, in addition to the terror, and sometimes death, that
they carry into these remote realms, at the muzzles of their guns, as
well as by whiskey and the small-pox, are continually arming tribe
after tribe with firearms; who are able thereby, to bring their
unsuspecting enemies into unequal combats, where they are slain by
thousands, and who have no way to heal the awful wound but by arming
themselves in turn; and in a similar manner reeking their vengeance
upon _their_ defenceless enemies on the West. In this wholesale way,
and by whiskey and disease, tribe after tribe sink their heads and lose
their better, proudest half, before the next and succeeding waves of
civilization flow on, to see or learn anything definite of them.
Without entering at this time, into any detailed history of this
immense system, or denunciation of any of the men or their motives, who
are engaged in it, I would barely observe, that, from the very nature
of their traffic, where their goods are to be carried several thousands
of miles, on the most rapid and dangerous streams, over mountains and
other almost discouraging obstacles; and that at the continual hazard
to their lives, from accidents and diseases of the countries, the poor
Indians are obliged to pay such enormous prices for their goods, that
the balance of trade is so decidedly against them, as soon to lead
them to poverty; and, unfortunately for them, they mostly contract a
taste for whiskey and rum, which are not only ruinous in their prices,
but in their effects destructive to life—destroying the Indians, much
more rapidly than an equal indulgence will destroy the civilized
constitution.
In the Indian communities, where there is no law of the land or custom
denominating it a vice to drink whiskey, and to get drunk; and where
the poor Indian meets whiskey tendered to him by white men, whom he
considers wiser than himself, and to whom lie naturally looks for
example; he thinks it no harm to drink to excess, and will lie drunk
as long as he can raise the means to pay for it. And after his first
means, in his wild state, are exhausted, he becomes a beggar for
whiskey, and begs until he disgusts, when the honest pioneer becomes
his neighbour; and then, and not before, gets the name of the “poor,
degraded, naked, and drunken Indian,” to whom the epithets are well and
truly applied.
On this great system of carrying the Fur Trade into the Rocky Mountains
and other parts of the wilderness country, where whiskey is sold at
the rate of twenty and thirty dollars per gallon, and most other
articles of trade at a similar rate; I know of no better comment, nor
any more excusable, than the quotation of a few passages from a very
popular work, which is being read with great avidity, from the pen of a
gentleman whose name gives currency to any book, and whose fine taste,
pleasure to all who read. The work I refer to “The Rocky Mountains,
or Adventures in the Far West, by W. Irving,” is a very interesting
one; and its incidents, no doubt, are given with great candour, by
the excellent officer, Captain Bonneville, who spent five years in
the region of the Rocky Mountains, on a furlough; endeavouring, in
competition with others, to add to his fortune, by pushing the Fur
Trade to some of the wildest tribes in those remote regions.
“The worthy Captain (says the Author) started into the country with
110 men; whose very appearance and equipment exhibited a piebald
mixture—half-civilized and half-savage, &c.” And he also preludes
his work by saying, that it was revised by himself from Captain
Bonneville’s own notes, which can, no doubt, be relied on.
This medley group, it seems, traversed the country to the Rocky
Mountains, where, amongst the Nez Percés and Flatheads, he says, “They
were friendly in their dispositions, and honest to the most scrupulous
degree in their intercourse with the white men. And of the same people,
the Captain continues—Simply to call these people religious, would
convey but a faint idea of the deep hue of piety and devotion which
pervades the whole of their conduct. Their honesty is immaculate; and
their purity of purpose, and their observance of the rites of their
religion, are most uniform and remarkable. They are, certainly, more
like a nation of saints than a horde of savages.”
Afterwards, of the “_Root-Diggers_,” in the vicinity of the Great
Salt Lake, who are a band of the Snake tribe, (and of whom he speaks
thus:—“In fact, they are a simple, timid, inoffensive race, and scarce
provided with any weapons, except for the chase”); he says that, “one
morning, one of his trappers, of a violent and savage character,
discovering that his traps had been carried off in the night, took
a horrid oath that he would kill the first Indian he should meet,
innocent or guilty. As he was returning with his comrades to camp,
he beheld two unfortunate Root-Diggers seated on the river bank
fishing—advancing upon them, he levelled his rifle, shot one upon the
spot, and flung his bleeding body into the stream.”
A short time afterwards, when his party of trappers “were about to
cross Ogden’s river, a great number of Shoshokies or Root-Diggers
were posted on the opposite bank, when they _imagined_ they were
there with hostile intent; they advanced upon them, levelled their
rifles, and killed twenty-five of them on the spot. The rest fled to
a short distance, then halted and turned about, howling and whining
like wolves, and uttering most piteous wailings. The trappers chased
them in every direction; the poor wretches made no defence, but fled
with terror; neither does it appear from the accounts of the boasted
victors, that a weapon had been wielded, or a weapon launched by the
Indians throughout the affair.”
After this affair, this “piebald” band of trappers wandered off to
Monterey, on the coast of California, and on their return on horseback
through an immense tract of the Root-Diggers’ country, he gives the
further following accounts of their transactions:—
“In the course of their journey through the country of the poor
Root-Diggers, there seems to have been an emulation between them,
which could inflict the greatest outrages upon the natives. The
trappers still considered them in the light of dangerous foes; and the
Mexicans, very probably, charged them with the sin of horse-stealing;
we have no other mode of accounting for the infamous barbarities, of
which, according to their own story, they were guilty—hunting the poor
Indians like wild beasts, and killing them without mercy—chasing their
unfortunate victims at full speed; noosing them around the neck with
their lasos, and then dragging them to death.”
It is due to Captain Bonneville, that the world should know that these
cruel (not “_savage_”) atrocities were committed by his men, when they
were on a Tour to explore the shores of the Great Salt Lake, and many
hundreds of miles from him, and beyond his controul; and that in his
work, both the Captain and the writer of the book have expressed in a
proper way, their abhorrence of such fiendish transactions.
A part of the same “piebald mixture” of trappers, who were encamped in
the Riccaree country, and trapping the beavers out of their streams,
when, finding that the Riccarees had stolen a number of their horses
one night, in the morning made prisoners of two of the Riccarees, who
loitered into their camp, and probably without knowledge of the offence
committed, when they were bound hand and foot as hostages, until every
one of the horses should be returned.
“The mountaineers declared, that unless the horses were relinquished,
the prisoners should be burned to death. To give force to their threat,
a pyre of logs and faggots was heaped up and kindled into a blaze.
The Riccarees released one horse, and then another; but finding that
nothing but the relinquishment of all their spoils would purchase the
lives of their captives, they abandoned them to their fate, moving off
with many parting words and howlings, when the prisoners were dragged
to the blazing pyre, and burnt to death in sight of their retreating
comrades.
“Such are the savage cruelties that white men learn to practice, who
mingle in savage life; and such are the acts that lead to terrible
recrimination on the part of the Indians. Should we hear of any
atrocities committed by the Riccarees upon captive white men; let this
signal and recent provocation be born in mind. Individual cases of the
kind dwell in the recollections of whole tribes—and it is a point of
honour and conscience to revenge them.”[45]
To quote the author further————“The facts disclosed in the present
work, clearly manifest the policy of establishing military posts, and
a mounted force to protect our Traders in their journeys across the
great Western wilds; and of pushing the outposts into the heart of the
singular wilderness we have laid open, so as to maintain some degree of
sway over the country, and to put an end to the kind of ‘black mail,’
levied on all occasions, by the savage ‘chivalry of the mountains’”!
The appalling cruelties in the above quotations require no comment;
and I hope the author, as well as the Captain, who have my warmest
approbation for having so frankly revealed them, will pardon me for
having quoted them in this place, as one striking proof of the justice
that may be reasonably expected, in _prospect_; and that may fairly
be laid to the _past_ proceedings of these great systems of trading
with, and civilizing the savages; which have been carried on from the
beginning of our settlements on the Atlantic Coast, to the present
day—making first acquaintance with them, and first impressions of
the glorious effects of civilization—and of the sum total of which,
this instance is but a mere point; but with the singular merit which
redounds to the honour of Captain Bonneville, that he has frankly told
the whole truth; which, if as fully revealed of _all other transactions
in these regions_, I am enabled to say, would shake every breast with
ague-chills of abhorrence of _civilized_ barbarities. From the above
facts, as well as from others enumerated in the foregoing epistles,
the discerning reader will easily see how prejudices are raised in
the minds of the savage, and why so many murders of white people
are heard of on the Frontier, which are uniformly attributed to the
wanton cruelty and rapacity of the savage—which we denominate “Indian
murders,” and “ruthless barbarities,” before we can condescend to go to
the poor savage, and ask him for a reason, which there is no doubt he
could generally furnish us.
From these, and hundreds of others that might be named, and equally
barbarous, it can easily be seen, that white men may well feel a dread
at every step they take in Indian realms, after atrocities like these,
that call so loudly and so justly for revenge, in a country where there
are no laws to punish; but where the cruel savage takes vengeance in
his own way—and white men fall, in the Indian’s estimation, not as
_murdered_, but _executed_, under the common law of their land.
Of the hundreds and thousands of such _murders_, as they are
denominated by white men, who are the only ones to tell of them in the
civilized world; it should also be kept in mind by the reader, who
passes his sentence on them, that they are all committed on Indian
ground—that the Indian hunts not, nor traps anywhere on white man’s
soil, nor asks him for his lands—or molests the sacred graves where
they have deposited the bones of their fathers, their wives and their
little children.
I have said that the principal means of the destruction of these
people, were the system of trade, and the introduction of small-pox,
the infallible plague that is consequent, sooner or later, upon the
introduction of trade and whiskey-selling to every tribe. I would
venture the assertion, from books that I have searched, and from other
evidence, that of the numerous tribes which have already disappeared,
and of those that have been traded with, quite to the Rocky Mountains,
each one has had this exotic disease in their turn—and in a few months
have lost one half or more of their numbers; and that from living
evidences, and distinct traditions, this appalling disease has several
times, before our days, run like a wave through the Western tribes,
over the Rocky Mountains, and to the Pacific Ocean—thinning the ranks
of the poor Indians to an extent which no knowledge, save that of the
overlooking eye of the Almighty, can justly comprehend.[46]
I have travelled faithfully and far, and have closely scanned, with
a hope of fairly pourtraying the condition and customs of these
unfortunate people; and if in taking leave of my readers, which I must
soon do, they should censure me for any oversight, or any indiscretion
or error, I will take to myself these consoling reflections, that they
will acquit me of intention to render more or less than justice to
any one; and also, that if in my zeal to render a service and benefit
to the Indian, I should have fallen short of it, I will, at least, be
acquitted of having done him an _injury_. And in endeavouring to render
them that justice, it belongs to me yet to say that the introduction of
the fatal causes of their destruction above-named, has been a subject
of close investigation with me during my travels; and I have watched on
every part of the Frontier their destructive influences, which result
in the overthrow of the savage tribes, which, one succeeding another,
are continually becoming extinct under their baneful influences.
And before I would expatiate upon any system for their successful
improvement and preservation, I would protrude my opinion to the world,
which I regret to do, that so long as the past and present system of
trade and whiskey-selling is tolerated amongst them, there is little
hope for their improvement, nor any chance for more than a temporary
existence. I have closely studied the Indian character in its native
state, and also in its secondary form along our Frontiers; civilized,
as it is often (but incorrectly) called. I have seen it in every phase,
and although there are many noble instances to the contrary, and with
many of whom I am personally acquainted; yet the greater part of those
who have lingered along the Frontiers, and been kicked about like dogs,
by white men, and beaten into a sort of a civilization, are very far
from being what I would be glad to see them, and proud to call them,
civilized by the aids and examples of good and moral people. Of the
Indians in their general capacity of civilized, along our extensive
Frontier, and those tribes that I found in their primitive and
disabused state, I have drawn a Table, which I offer as an estimate of
their comparative character, which I trust will be found to be near the
truth, generally, though like all general rules or estimates, with its
exceptions. (Vide Appendix C.)
Such are the results to which the present system of civilization brings
that small part of these poor unfortunate people, who outlive the
first calamities of their country; and in this degraded and pitiable
condition, the most of them end their days in poverty and wretchedness,
without the power of rising above it. Standing on the soil which
they have occupied from their childhood, and inherited from their
fathers; with the dread of “pale faces,” and the deadly prejudices that
have been reared in their breasts against them, for the destructive
influences which they have introduced into their country, which have
thrown the greater part of their friends and connexions into the grave,
and are now promising the remainder of them no better prospect than
the dreary one of living a few years longer, and then to sink into the
ground themselves; surrendering their lands and their fair hunting
grounds to the enjoyment of their enemies, and their bones to be dug up
and strewed about the fields, or to be labelled in our Museums.
For the Christian and philanthropist, in any part of the world, there
is enough, I am sure, in the character, condition, and history of
these unfortunate people, to engage his sympathies—for the Nation,
there is an unrequited account of sin and injustice that sooner or
later will call for _national retribution_—and for the American
citizens, who live, every where proud of their growing wealth and their
luxuries, over the bones of these poor fellows, who have surrendered
their hunting-grounds and their lives, to the enjoyment of their
cruel dispossessors, there is a lingering terror yet, I fear, for the
reflecting minds, whose mortal bodies must soon take their humble
places with their red, but injured brethren, under the same glebe; to
appear and stand, at last, with guilt’s shivering conviction, amidst
the myriad ranks of accusing spirits, that are to rise in their own
fields, at the final day of resurrection!
[41] See the four days’ religious ceremonies of the Mandans, and
use of the willow boughs, and sacrifices of fingers, &c. in Vol. I.
pp. 159. 170; and also the custom of war-chiefs wearing horns on
their head-dresses, like the Israelitish chiefs of great renown,
Vol. I. p. 104.
[42] For the satisfaction of the reader, I have introduced in
the Appendix to this Volume, Letter B, a brief vocabulary of the
languages of several adjoining tribes in the North West, from
which, by turning to it, they can easily draw their own inferences.
These words have all been written down by myself, from the Indian’s
mouths, as they have been correctly translated to me; and I think
it will at once he decided, that there is very little affinity or
resemblance, if any, between them. I have therein given a sample
of the Blackfoot language, yet, of that immense tribe who all
class under the name of Blackfoot, there are the Cotonnés and the
Grosventres des Prairies—whose languages are entirely distinct
from this—and also from each other—and in the same region, and
neighbours to them, are also the Chayennes—the Knisteneaux, the
Crows, the Shoshonees, and Pawnees; all of whose languages are as
distinct, and as widely different, as those that I have given.
These facts, I think, without my going further, will fully show the
entire dissimilarity between these languages, and support me to a
certain extent, at all events, in the opinion I have advanced above.
[43] The reader will bear it in mind, that these drawings, as well
as all those of the kind that have heretofore been given, and those
that are to follow, have been correctly traced with a _Camera_,
from the robes and other works of the Indians belonging to my
Indian Museum.
[44] Lewis and Clarke, in their Tour across the Rocky Mountains,
have given an account of a Mandan chief, who had sacrificed
seventeen horses to his _medicine-bag_—to conciliate the good will
of the Great Spirit. And I have met many instances, where, while
boasting to me of their exploits and their liberality, they have
claimed to have given several of their horses to the Great Spirit,
and as many to white men!
[45] During the summer of this transaction I was on the Upper
Missouri river, and had to pass the Riccaree village in my bark
canoe, with only two men, which the leader will say justly accounts
for the advice of Mr. M‘Kenzie, to pass the Riccaree village in the
night, which I did, as I have before described, by which means it
is possible I preserved my life, as they had just killed the last
Fur Trader in their village, and as I have learned since, were
“_dancing his scalp_” when I came by them.
[46] The Reverend Mr. Parker in his Tour across the Rocky Mountains
says, that amongst the Indians below the Falls of the Columbia
at least seven-eighths, if not nine-tenths, as Dr. M‘Laughlin
believes, have been swept away by disease between the years 1829,
and the time that he visited that place in 1836. “So many and so
sudden were the deaths which occurred, that the shores were strewed
with the unburied dead, whole and large villages were depopulated,
and some entire tribes have disappeared.” This mortality he says
“extended not only from the Cascades to the Pacific, but from very
far North to the coast of California.” These facts, with hundreds
of others, shew how rapidly the Indian population is destroyed,
long before we become acquainted with them.
APPENDIX—A.
EXTINCTION OF THE MANDANS.
From the accounts brought to New York in the fall of 1838, by Messrs.
M‘Kenzie, Mitchell, and others, from the Upper Missouri, and with whom
I conversed on the subject, it seems that in the summer of that year
the small-pox was accidentally introduced amongst the Mandans, by the
Fur Traders; and that in the course of two months they all perished,
except some thirty or forty, who were taken as slaves by the Riccarees;
an enemy living two hundred miles below them, and who moved up and
took possession of their village soon after their calamity, taking up
their residence in it, it being a better built village than their own;
and from the lips of one of the Traders who had more recently arrived
from there, I had the following account of the remaining few, in whose
destruction was the final termination of this interesting and once
numerous tribe.
The Riccarees, he said, had taken possession of the village after the
disease had subsided, and after living some months in it, were attacked
by a large party of their enemies, the Sioux, and whilst fighting
desperately in resistance, in which the Mandan prisoners had taken an
active part, the latter had concerted a plan for their own destruction,
which was effected by their simultaneously running through the piquets
on to the prairie, calling out to the Sioux (both men and women) to
kill them, “that they were Riccaree dogs, that their friends were all
dead, and they did not wish to live,”—that they here wielded their
weapons as desperately as they could, to excite the fury of their
enemy, and that they were thus cut to pieces and destroyed.
The accounts given by two or three white men, who were amongst the
Mandans during the ravages of this frightful disease, are most
appalling and actually too heart-rending and disgusting to be recorded.
The disease was introduced into the country by the Fur Company’s
steamer from St. Louis; which had two of their crew sick with the
disease when it approached the Upper Missouri, and imprudently stopped
to trade at the Mandan village, which was on the bank of the river,
where the chiefs and others were allowed to come on board, by which
means the disease got ashore.
I am constrained to believe, that the gentlemen in charge of the
steamer did not believe it to be the small-pox; for if they had known
it to be such, I cannot conceive of such imprudence, as regarded
their own interests in the country, as well as the fate of these poor
people, by allowing their boat to advance into the country under such
circumstances.
It seems that the Mandans were surrounded by several war-parties of
their more powerful enemies the Sioux, at that unlucky time, and they
could not therefore disperse upon the plains, by which many of them
could have been saved; and they were necessarily enclosed within the
piquets of their village, where the disease in a few days became so
very malignant that death ensued in a few hours after its attacks; and
so slight were their hopes when they were attacked, that nearly half
of them destroyed themselves with their knives, with their guns, and
by dashing their brains out by leaping head-foremost from a thirty
foot ledge of rocks in front of their village. The first symptom of
the disease was a rapid swelling of the body, and so very virulent
had it become, that very many died in two or three hours after their
attack, and that in many cases without the appearance of the disease
upon the skin. Utter dismay seemed to possess all classes and all ages,
and they gave themselves up in despair, as entirely lost. There was
but one continual crying and howling and praying to the Great Spirit
for his protection during the nights and days; and there being but few
living, and those in too appalling despair, nobody thought of burying
the dead, whose bodies, whole families together, were left in horrid
and loathsome piles in their own wigwams, with a few buffalo robes, &c.
thrown over them, there to decay, and be devoured by their own dogs.
That such a proportion of their community as that above-mentioned,
should have perished in so short a time, seems yet to the reader, an
unaccountable thing; but in addition to the causes just mentioned, it
must be borne in mind that this frightful disease is everywhere far
more fatal amongst the native than in civilized population, which may
be owing to some extraordinary constitutional susceptibility; or, I
think, more probably, to the exposed lives they live, leading more
directly to fatal consequences. In this, as in most of their diseases,
they ignorantly and imprudently plunge into the coldest water, whilst
in the highest state of fever, and often die before they have the power
to get out.
Some have attributed the unexampled fatality of this disease amongst
the Indians to the fact of their living entirely on animal food; but
so important a subject for investigation I must leave for sounder
judgments than mine to decide. They are a people whose constitutions
and habits of life enable them most certainly to meet most of its
ills with less dread, and with decidedly greater success, than they
are met in civilized communities; and I would not dare to decide that
their simple meat diet was the cause of their fatal exposure to one
frightful disease, when I am decidedly of opinion that it has been the
cause of their exemption and protection from another, almost equally
destructive, and, like the former, of civilized introduction.
During the season of the ravages of the Asiatic cholera which swept
over the greater part of the western country, and the Indian frontier,
I was a traveller through those regions, and was able to witness its
effects; and I learned from what I saw, as well as from what I have
heard in other parts since that time, that it travelled to and over the
frontiers, carrying dismay and death amongst the tribes on the borders
in many cases, so far as they had adopted the civilized modes of life,
with its dissipations, using vegetable food and salt; but wherever it
came to the tribes living exclusively on meat, and that without the
use of salt, its progress was suddenly stopped. I mention this as a
subject which I looked upon as important to science, and therefore one
on which I made many careful enquiries; and so far as I have learned
along that part of the frontier over which I have since passed, I have
to my satisfaction ascertained that such became the utmost limits of
this fatal disease in its travel to the West, unless where it might
have followed some of the routes of the Fur Traders, who, of course,
have introduced the modes of civilized life.
From the Trader who was present at the destruction of the Mandans I had
many most wonderful incidents of this dreadful scene, but I dread to
recite them. Amongst them, however, there is one that I must briefly
describe, relative to the death of that noble _gentleman_ of whom I
have already said so much, and to whom I became so much attached,
_Mah-to-toh-pa_, or “the Four Bears.” This fine fellow sat in his
wigwam and watched every one of his family die about him, his wives and
his little children, after he had recovered from the disease himself;
when he walked out, around the village, and wept over the final
destruction of his tribe; his braves and warriors, whose sinewy arms
alone he could depend on for a continuance of their existence, all laid
low; when he came back to his lodge, where he covered his whole family
in a pile, with a number of robes, and wrapping another around himself,
went out upon a hill at a little distance, where he laid several days,
despite all the solicitations of the Traders, resolved to _starve_
himself to death. He remained there till the sixth day, when he had
just strength enough to creep back to the village, when he entered the
horrid gloom of his own wigwam, and laying his body alongside of the
group of his family, drew his robe over him and died on the ninth day
of his fatal abstinence.
So have perished the friendly and hospitable Mandans, from the best
accounts I could get; and although it may be _possible_ that some few
individuals may yet be remaining, I think it is not probable; and one
thing is certain, even if such be the case, that, as a nation, the
Mandans are extinct, having no longer an existence.
There is yet a melancholy part of the tale to be told, relating to
the ravages of this frightful disease in that country on the same
occasion, as it spread to other contiguous tribes, to the Minatarees,
the Knisteneaux, the Blackfeet, the Chayennes and Crows; amongst whom
25,000 perished in the course of four or five months, which most
appalling facts I got from Major Pilcher, now Superintendent of Indian
affairs at St. Louis, from Mr. M‘Kenzie, and others.
It may be naturally asked here, by the reader, whether the Government
of the United States have taken any measures to prevent the ravages
of this fatal disease amongst these exposed tribes; to which I
answer, that repeated efforts have been made, and so far generally,
as the tribes have ever had the disease, (or, at all events, within
the recollections of those who are now living in the tribes,) the
Government agents have succeeded in introducing vaccination as a
protection; but amongst those tribes in their wild state, and where
they have not suffered with the disease, very little success has
been met with in the attempt to protect them, on account of their
superstitions, which have generally resisted all attempts to introduce
vaccination. Whilst I was on the Upper Missouri, several surgeons were
sent into the country with the Indian agents, where I several times
saw the attempts made without success. They have perfect confidence
in the skill of their own physicians, until the disease has made one
slaughter in their tribe, and then, having seen white men amongst them
protected by it, they are disposed to receive it, before which they
cannot believe that so minute a puncture in the arm is going to protect
them from so fatal a disease; and as they see white men so earnestly
urging it, they decide that it must be some new mode or trick of pale
faces, by which they are to gain some new advantage over them, and they
stubbornly and successfully resist it.
[Illustration: _180_
A CHART SHEWING THE MOVES OF THE MANDANS & THE PLACE OF THEIR
EXTINCTION.]
THE WELSH COLONY.
Which I barely spoke of in page 206, of Vol. I. which sailed under the
direction of Prince Madoc, or Madawc, from North Wales, in the early
part of the fourteenth century in ten ships, according to numerous
and accredited authors, and never returned to their own country, have
been supposed to have landed somewhere on the coast of North or South
America; and from the best authorities, (which I will suppose everybody
has read, rather than quote them at this time,) I believe it has been
pretty clearly proved that they landed either on the coast of Florida
or about the mouth of the Mississippi, and according to the history and
poetry of their country, settled somewhere in the interior of North
America, where they are yet remaining, intermixed with some of the
savage tribes.
In my Letter just referred to, I barely suggested, that the Mandans,
whom I found with so many peculiarities in looks and customs, which
I have already described, might possibly be the remains of this lost
colony, amalgamated with a tribe, or part of a tribe, of the natives,
which would account for the unusual appearances of this tribe of
Indians, and also for the changed character and customs of the Welsh
Colonists, provided these be the remains of them.
Since those notes were written, as will have been seen by my subsequent
Letters, and particularly in page 9 of this Volume, I have descended
the Missouri river from the Mandan village to St. Louis, a distance
of 1800 miles, and have taken pains to examine its shores; and from
the repeated remains of the ancient locations of the Mandans, which
I met with on the banks of that river, I am fully convinced that I
have traced them down nearly to the mouth of the Ohio river; and from
exactly similar appearances, which I recollect to have seen several
years since in several places in the interior of the state of Ohio,
I am fully convinced that they have formerly occupied that part of
the country, and have, from some cause or other, been put in motion,
and continued to make their repeated moves until they arrived at the
place of their residence at the time of their extinction, on the Upper
Missouri.
In the annexed chart of the Missouri and Ohio rivers, will be seen laid
down the different positions of the ancient marks of their towns which
I have examined; and also, nearly, (though not exactly) the positions
of the very numerous civilized fortifications which are now remaining
on the Ohio and Muskingum rivers, in the vicinity of which I believe
the Mandans once lived.
These ancient fortifications, which are very numerous in that vicinity,
some of which enclose a great many acres, and being built on the
banks of the rivers, with walls in some places twenty or thirty feet
in height, with covered ways to the water, evince a knowledge of the
science of fortifications, apparently not a century behind that of the
present day, were evidently never built by any nation of savages in
America, and present to us incontestable proof of the former existence
of a people very far advanced in the arts of civilization, who have,
from some cause or other, disappeared, and left these imperishable
proofs of their former existence.
Now I am inclined to believe that the ten ships of Madoc, or a part
of them at least, entered the Mississippi river at the Balize, and
made their way up the Mississippi, or that they landed somewhere on
the Florida coast, and that their brave and persevering colonists made
their way through the interior, to a position on the Ohio river, where
they cultivated their fields, and established in one of the finest
countries on earth, a flourishing colony; but were at length set
upon by the savages, whom, perhaps, they provoked to warfare, being
trespassers on their hunting-grounds, and by whom, in overpowering
hordes, they were beseiged, until it was necessary to erect these
fortifications for their defence, into which they were at last driven
by a confederacy of tribes, and there held till their ammunition
and provisions gave out, and they in the end have all perished,
except, perhaps, that portion of them who might have formed alliance
by marriage with the Indians, and their offspring, who would have
been half-breeds, and of course attached to the Indians’ side; whose
lives have been spared in the general massacre; and at length, being
despised, as all half-breeds of enemies are, have gathered themselves
into a band, and severing from their parent tribe, have moved off, and
increased in numbers and strength as they have advanced up the Missouri
river to the place where they have been known for many years past by
the name of the _Mandans_, a corruption or abbreviation, perhaps, of
“_Madawgwys_,” the name applied by the Welsh to the followers of Madawc.
If this be a startling theory for the world, they will be the more
sure to read the following brief reasons which I bring in support of
my opinion; and if they do not support me, they will at least be worth
knowing, and may, at the same time, be the means of eliciting further
and more successful enquiry.
As I have said, in page 9 of this Volume, and in other places, the
marks of the Mandan villages are known by the excavations of two feet
or more in depth, and thirty or forty feet in diameter, of a circular
form, made in the ground for the foundations of their wigwams, which
leave a decided remain for centuries, and one that is easily detected
the moment that it is met with. After leaving the Mandan village, I
found the marks of their former residence about sixty miles below where
they were then living, and from which they removed (from their own
account) about sixty or eighty years since; and from the appearance of
the number of their lodges, I should think, that at that recent date
there must have been three times the number that were living when I
was amongst them. Near the mouth of the big Shienne river, 200 miles
below their last location, I found still more ancient remains, and in
as many as six or seven other places between that and the mouth of the
Ohio, as I have designated on the chart, and each one, as I visited
them, appearing more and more ancient, convincing me that these people,
wherever they might have come from, have gradually made their moves up
the banks of the Missouri, to the place where I visited them.
For the most part of this distance they have been in the heart of the
great Sioux country, and being looked upon by the Sioux as trespassers,
have been continually warred upon by this numerous tribe, who have
endeavoured to extinguish them, as they have been endeavouring to do
ever since our first acquaintance with them; but who, being always
fortified by a strong piquet, or stockade, have successfully withstood
the assaults of their enemies, and preserved the remnant of their
tribe. Through this sort of gauntlet they have run, in passing through
the countries of these warlike and hostile tribes.
It may be objected to this, perhaps, that the Riccarees and Minatarees
build their wigwams in the same way: but this proves nothing, for the
Minatarees are Crows, from the north-west; and by their own showing,
fled to the Mandans for protection, and forming their villages by the
side of them, built their wigwams in the same manner.
The Riccarees have been a very small tribe, far inferior to the
Mandans; and by the traditions of the Mandans, as well as from the
evidence of the first explorers, Lewis and Clarke, and others, have
lived, until quite lately, on terms of intimacy with the Mandans, whose
villages they have successively occupied as the Mandans have moved and
vacated them, as they now are doing, since disease has swept the whole
of the Mandans away.
Whether my derivation of the word _Mandan_ from _Madawgwys_ be
correct or not, I will pass it over to the world at present merely as
_presumptive_ proof, for want of better, which, perhaps, this enquiry
may elicit; and, at the same time, I offer the Welsh word _Mandon_,
(the woodroof, a species of madder used as a red dye,) as the name that
might possibly have been applied by their Welsh neighbours to these
people, on account of their very ingenious mode of giving the beautiful
red and other dyes to the porcupine quills with which they garnish
their dresses.
In their own language they called themselves
_See-pohs-ka-nu-mah-ka-kee_, (the people of the pheasants,) which was
probably the name of the primitive stock, before they were mixed with
any other people; and to have got such a name, it is natural to suppose
that they must have come from a country where _pheasants_ existed,
which cannot be found short of reaching the timbered country at the
base of the Rocky Mountains, some six or eight hundred miles West of
the Mandans, or the forests of Indiana and Ohio, some hundreds of miles
to the South and East of where they last lived.
The above facts, together with the other one which they repeatedly
related to me, and which I have before alluded to, that they had often
been to the hill of the _Red Pipe Stone_, and that they once lived
near it, carry conclusive evidence, I think, that they have formerly
occupied a country much farther to the South; and that they have
repeatedly changed their locations, until they reached the spot of
their last residence, where they have met with their final misfortune.
And as evidence in support of my opinion that they came from the banks
of the Ohio, and have brought with them some of the customs of the
civilized people who erected those ancient fortifications, I am able
to say, that the numerous specimens of pottery which have been taken
from the graves and tumuli about those ancient works, (many of which
may be seen now, in the Cincinnati Museum, and some of which, my own
donations, and which have so much surprised the enquiring world,) were
to be seen in great numbers in the use of the Mandans, and scarcely a
day in the summer, when the visitor to their village would not see the
women at work with their hands and fingers, moulding them from black
clay, into vases, cups, pitchers, and pots, and baking them in their
little kilns in the sides of the hill, or under the bank of the river.
In addition to this art, which I am sure belongs to no other tribe on
the Continent, these people have also, as a secret with themselves, the
extraordinary art of manufacturing a very beautiful and lasting kind of
blue glass beads, which they wear on their necks in great quantities,
and decidedly value above all others that are brought amongst them by
the Fur Traders.
This secret is not only one that the Traders did not introduce amongst
them, but one that they cannot learn from them; and at the same time,
beyond a doubt, an art that has been introduced amongst them by some
civilized people, as it is as yet unknown to other Indian tribes in
that vicinity, or elsewhere. Of this interesting fact, Lewis and
Clarke have given an account thirty-three years ago, at a time when no
Traders, or other white people, had been amongst the Mandans, to have
taught them so curious an art.
The Mandan canoes which are altogether different from those of all
other tribes, are exactly the Welsh _coracle_, made of _raw-hides_,
the skins of buffaloes, stretched underneath a frame made of willow
or other boughs, and shaped nearly round, like a tub; which the woman
carries on her head from her wigwam to the water’s edge, and having
stepped into it, stands in front, and propels it by dipping her
paddle _forward_, and _drawing it to her_, instead of paddling by the
side. In referring to +plate+ 240, letter _c_, page 138, the reader
will see several drawings of these seemingly awkward crafts, which,
nevertheless, the Mandan women will _pull_ through the water at a rapid
rate.
How far these extraordinary facts may go in the estimation of the
reader, with numerous others which I have mentioned in Volume I.,
whilst speaking of the Mandans, of their various complexions, colours
of hair, and blue and grey eyes, towards establishing my opinion as
a sound theory, I cannot say; but this much I can safely aver, that
at the moment that I first saw these people, I was so struck with
the peculiarity of their appearance, that I was under the instant
conviction that they were an amalgam of a native, with some civilized
race; and from what I have seen of them, and of the remains on the
Missouri and Ohio rivers, I feel fully convinced that these people have
emigrated from the latter stream; and that they have, in the manner
that I have already stated, with many of their customs, been preserved
from the _almost total_ destruction of the bold colonists of Madawc,
who, I believe, settled upon and occupied for a century or so, the rich
and fertile banks of the Ohio. In adducing the proof for the support of
this theory, it I have failed to complete it, I have the satisfaction
that I have not taken up much of the reader’s time, and I can therefore
claim his attention a few moments longer, whilst I refer him to a brief
vocabulary of the Mandan language in the following pages, where he may
compare it with that of the Welsh; and better, perhaps, than I can,
decide whether there is any affinity existing between the two; and if
he finds it, it will bring me a friendly aid in support of the position
I have taken.
From the comparison, that I have been able to make, I think I am
authorized to say, that in the following list of words, which form a
part of that vocabulary, there is a striking similarity, and quite
sufficient to excite surprise in the minds of the attentive reader,
if it could be proved that those resemblances were but the results of
accident between two foreign and distinct idioms.
_English._ _Mandan._ _Welsh._ _Pronounced._
_I_ Me Mi Me
_You_ Ne Chwi Chwe
_He_ E A A
_She_ Ea E A
_It_ Ount Hwynt Hooynt
_We_ Noo Ni Ne
_They_ Eonah {Hwna _mas._ Hoona
{Hona _fem._ Hona
_Those ones_ Yrhai Hyna
_No_, or, _there is not_ Megosh Nagoes Nagosh
{Nage
_No_ {Nag
{Na
_Head_ Pan Pen Pan
_The Great Spirit_ Maho peneta Mawr penaethir[47] Maoor panaether
Ysprid mawr[48] Uspryd maoor
[47] To act as a great chief—head or principal—sovereign or supreme.
[48] The Great Spirit.
APPENDIX—B.
The following brief Vocabularies of several different Indian languages,
which have been carefully written by the Author from the lips of the
Indians as they have pronounced them, and which he has endeavoured
to convey with the simplest use of the English alphabet, have been
repeatedly referred to in the text, as a conclusive proof of the
radical difference that actually exists amongst a vast many of the
languages spoken by the North American Indians. And the Author here
repeats, as he has said in page 236, that of the forty-eight languages
which he has visited, he pronounces thirty of them as radically
different as these are, whilst the remaining eighteen may be said to be
dialects from four or five distinct roots.
----------------------+----------------------+-----------------------------+----------------------+
ENGLISH. | MANDAN. | BLACKFOOT. | RICCAREE. |
----------------------+----------------------+-----------------------------+----------------------+
_I_ |Me |Nistoa |Nan to |
_You_ |Ne |Cristoa |Kag hon |
_He_ |E |Amo |Wite |
_She_ |Ea |..... |Sapatish |
_It_ |Ount |..... |Tihai |
_We_ |Noo |Ne stoa pinnan |Aps |
_They_ |Eonah |Maex |Arrish |
_Great Spirit_ |Mah ho peneta |Cristecoom |Te wa rooh teh |
_Evil Spirit_ |Mahho penekheka |Cristecoom sah |Ka ke wa rooh teh |
_Medicine_ (_Mystery_)|Hopeneche |Nahtoya |Wa rooh teh |
_Mystery-man_ |New mohk hopeneche |Nah tose |So nish wa rooh teh |
_Sacrifice_ |Wa pa shee |Kits tah kee |..... |
_Drum_ |Bereck hah |Ogh tum |..... |
_Rattle_ |Eeh na de |..... |..... |
_Sun_ |Menahka |Cristeque ahtose |Sha-koona |
_Moon_ |Esto menahka |Cogue ahtose |We-tah |
_Stars_ |H’ka ka |Ca cha tose |Sa ca |
_Rain_ |H’ka hoosh |Shotta |Tas sou |
_Snow_ |Cop caze |Cane |Tah hah |
_Night_ |Estogr |Caquay |Ee nahght |
_Day_ |Humpah |Cristoque |Sha cona |
_Dark_ |Ham pah eriskah |Skaynatsee |Te ka tistat |
_Light_ |Edayhush |Cristequenats |Sha koona |
_Heavy_ |T’kash |Sacoay |Tah tash |
_Not heavy_ |Ho hesh |Mabts coay |Kak a tash |
_Yes_ |K’hoo |Ah |Nee coo la |
_No_ |Megosh |Sah |Ka ka |
_Good_ |Shusu |Ahghsee |Toh nee |
_Bad_ |K’he cush |Pah kaps |Kah |
_Very bad_ |Keks-cusha (hush) |Eehcooa pah kaps |Koo nah hee |
_How do you do?_ |Tush kah thah mah kah |How ne tucka? |Chee na se nun? |
_Very well_ |Mah shuse |Neet ahkse |Ah teesh te |
_I am sick_ |Me au gana bush |Estse no stum |Na too te rate |
_Are you tired?_ |E da e teache? |Cho hetta ke tesistico? |Kah ka nee now a? |
_I am not tired_ |Wah ee wah ta hish |Nemah tesistico |..... |
_Look there_ |Etta hant tah |Essummissa |Hay nah ho too tayrick|
_Come here_ |Roo-hoo tah |Pohks a pote |Shee sha |
_Hot_ |Dsa shosh |Ea cristochis |Tow war ist |
_Cold_ |Shinee hush |Stuya |Teep se |
_Long_ |Hash kah |Innuya |Tac chess |
_Short_ |Sonnah ka |Sah kee |Nee hootch |
_War eagle_ |Mah sish |Pehta |Nix war roo |
_Buffalo_ |Ptemday |Eneuh |Wa tash |
_Elk_ |Omepah |Ponokah |Wah |
_Deer_ |Mah man a coo |Ouacasee |A noo nach |
_Beaver_ |Warrahpa |Kekstakee |Chee tooghs |
_Porcupine_ |Pahhee |..... |Pan h e |
_Horse_ |Ompah meneda |Ponokah meta |Ha wah rooh te |
_Robe_ |Mah he toh |Aihabwa |Sa hooche |
_Moccasins_ |Hoompah |Itseekist |Hooche |
_Shirt_ |Ema shotah |Assokas |Kraitch |
_Leggings_ |Hoh shee |Ahtsaiks |Kah hooche |
_Bow_ |Warah e noo pah |Netsinnam |Nache |
_Quiver_ |Eehkticka |..... |Nish kratch |
_Arrow_ |Mahha |Ohpsis |Neeche |
_Shield_ |Wah kee |..... |..... |
_Lance_ |Monna etorook shoka |Sapa pistats |Na se wa roo |
_Wigwam_ |Ote |Moeese |Acane |
_Woman_ |Meha |Ahkeea |Sa pat |
_Wife_ |Moorse |Netohkeaman |Tah ban |
_Child_ |Sookhomaha |Pohka |Pe ra |
_Girl_ |Sook meha |Ahkeoquoin |Soo nahtch |
_Boy_ |Sook numohk |Sah komape |Wee nahtch |
_Head_ |Pan |Otokan |Pahgh |
_Arms_ |Arda |Otchist |Arrai |
_Legs_ |Doka |Ahcatches |Ahgha |
_Eyes_ |Estume |Owopspec |Chee ree coo |
_Nose_ |Pahoo |Ohcrisis |..... |
_Mouth_ |Ea |Mah oi |..... |
_Face_ |Estah |Oestocris |..... |
_Ears_ |Nakoha |Ohtokiss |Tickokite |
_Hands_ |Onka |..... |Teho nane |
_Fingers_ |On ka hah |Ohkitchis |Pa rick |
_Foot_ |Shee |Ahocatchis |Ahgh |
_Hair_ |Pah hee |Otokan |Pa hi |
_Canoe_ |Menanka |Ahkeosehts |Lah kee hoon |
_River_ |Pasah ah |Naya tohta |Sa hon nee |
_Paddle_ |Manuk pah sho |..... |Natoh-catogh |
_Fish_ |Poh |Mummea |..... |
_Vermilion_ |Wah sah |Ahsain |Pa hate |
_Painter_ |Wah ka pooska |Ahsainahkee |..... |
_Whiskey_ |Men e pah da |Nah heeoh kee |Te son nan |
_Pipe_ |E hudka |Ahquayneman |Laps |
_Tobacco_ |Mannah sha |Pistacan |Lapscon |
_Gun_ |Eroopah |Nahma |Tnan kee |
_A man runs_ |Numohk p’ahush |Ohks kos moi nema |Sa rish ka tar ree |
_He eats_ |E roosh toosh |Oyeet |Te wa wa |
_I think_ |Wah push e dah hush |Neetasta |Nanto te wiska |
_I am old_ |Wah k’hee hush |Neetashpee |Nanto co nahose |
_She is young_ |Ea sook me hom mehan |Mahto mahxim |Tesoonock |
_Scalp_ |Pon dope khee |Otokan |San ish pa |
_Scalp dance_ |Pon dope khee nah pish|Otokan epascat |Pah te ra ka rohk |
_War dance_ |Keeruck sah nah pish |Soopascat |..... |
_White buffalo_ |Woka da |Eneuh quisix sinnuum |Toh n hah tah ka |
_Raven_ |Ka ka |Mastoa |To kah ka |
_Bear_ |Mahto |Keahyu |Koo nooghk |
_Antelope_ |Ko ka |Saw kee owa kasee |Annoo notche |
_Spirits, or Ghosts_ |Mounon he ka |Ah eene |..... |
_Wolf_ |Harratta |Ahpace |Steerich |
_Dog_ |Mones waroota |A meeteh |Hahtch |
_A brave_ |Numohk harica |Mahtsee |Too ne roose |
_A great chief_ |Numohk k’sbese k’tich |Ahecooa nin nah |Nay shon tee rehoo |
_Old woman_ |Rokah kah ksee ha |Kee pe tah kee |Sooht sabat |
_Fire_ |Wareday |Steea |Te ki eeht |
_Council fire_ |Kaherookah Waraday |Nahto steea |Ki eeht te warooht |
_Council house_ |Kaherookah kahar |Nahto yeweis |Warooht ta ko |
_Good-bye_ |..... |How |..... |
_One_ |Mah han nah |Jeh |Asco |
_Two_ |Nompah |Nah tohk |Pit co |
_Three_ |Namary |No oks kum |Tow wit |
_Four_ |Tohpa |Ne sooyim |Tchee tish |
_Five_ |Kakhoo |Ne see tsee |Tchee hoo |
_Six_ |Kemah |Nah oo |Tcha pis |
_Seven_ |Koo pah |E kitch ekum |To tcha pis |
_Eight_ |Ta tuck a |Nah ne suyim |To tcha pis won |
_Nine_ |Mah pa |Paex o |Nah e ne won |
_Ten_ |Perug |Kay pee |Nah en |
_Eleven_ |Auga mahannah |Kay pee nay tehee kopochee |Ko tchee te won |
_Twelve_ |Auga nompah |Kay pee nah kopochee |Pit co nah en |
_Thirteen_ |Auga namary |Kay pee nay ohk kopochee |Tow wit nah en |
_Fourteen_ |Auga tohpa |Kay pee nay say kopochee |Tchee tish nah en |
_Fifteen_ |Ag kak hoo |Kay pee ne see tchee kopochee|Tchee hoo nahen |
_Sixteen_ |Ag kemah |Kay pee nay kopochee |Tch a pis nahen |
_Seventeen_ |Ag koopah |Kay pee eh kee chie kopochee |To tcha pis nahen |
_Eighteen_ |Aga tah tucka |Kay pee nan esic kopochee |To tcha pis won nahen |
_Nineteen_ |Aga mahpa |Kay pee paex sickopochee |Nah e ne won nahen |
_Twenty_ |Nompah perug |Natchip pee |Weetah |
_Thirty_ |Namary amperug |Ne hippe |Sah wee |
_Forty_ |Toh pa amperug |Ne sippe |Nahen tchee tish |
_Fifty_ |Kah hoo amperug |Ne see chippe |Nahen tchee hoo |
_Sixty_ |Keemah amperug |Nah chippe |Nahen tchee pis |
_Seventy_ |Koopah amperug |O kitch chippe |Nahen to tcha pis |
_Eighty_ |Ta tuck amperug |Nahne sippe |Nah en te tcha pis won|
_Ninety_ |Mah pa amperug |Paex sippe |Nah en nah e ne won |
_One hundred_ |Ee sooc mah hannah |Kay pee pee pee |Shoh tan |
_One thousand_ |Ee sooc perug |Kay pee pee pee pee |Shoh tan tera hoo |
----------------------+------------------------------+----------------------+
ENGLISH. | SIOUX. | TUSKARORA. |
----------------------+------------------------------+----------------------+
_I_ |Mi a |Ee |
_You_ |Nia |Eets |
_He_ |Dai |Rawonroo |
_She_ |Hai chay |Unroo |
_It_ |Dai Chay |Hay |
_We_ |On kia |Dinwuh |
_They_ |Ni a pe |Ka ka wen roo |
_Great Spirit_ |Wakon shecha |Ye wunni yoh |
_Evil Spirit_ |Wakon tonka |Katickuhraxhu |
_Medicine_ (_Mystery_)|Wa kon |Yunnu-kwat |
_Mystery-man_ |We chasha wakon |Yunnu kwat haw |
_Sacrifice_ |We oh pa |Yunnu wonus |
_Drum_ |Chon che a ha |Ye nuf hess |
_Rattle_ |Waga moo |Wuntits u runtha |
_Sun_ |Wee |Hiday |
_Moon_ |On wee |Autsunyehaw |
_Stars_ |We chash pe |Ojisnok |
_Rain_ |Ma how jea |Wara |
_Snow_ |Wah |Wun |
_Night_ |On ha pee |Autsunye |
_Day_ |On pah |Yor huh uh |
_Dark_ |Ee ohk pa zee |Yor wets a yuh |
_Light_ |O jan jee |Yoohooks |
_Heavy_ |Te kay |Wau wis na |
_Not heavy_ |Ka po jel la |Wau ri yos |
_Yes_ |How |Unhuh |
_No_ |Ea |Gwuss |
_Good_ |Wash tay |Wa gwast |
_Bad_ |Shee cha |Wa shuh |
_Very bad_ |Shee cha lahgcha |Array wa shuh |
_How do you do?_ |How ke che wa? |Dati yoot hay its? |
_Very well_ |Tran wou an |Arrav as gu nuh |
_I am sick_ |Ma koo je |Ee wak nu wax |
_Are you tired?_ |Won ne too ka? |Was na ra huh? |
_I am not tired_ |Won ne tooka shee ne |Grons a runk na rahouk|
_Look there_ |Wi a ka |Tsotkathoo |
_Come here_ |Ta ha na dah pe |Ka jee |
_Hot_ |Mush ta |Yoo nau ri hun |
_Cold_ |Sinnee |Aut hooh |
_Long_ |Honska |Ee wats |
_Short_ |Pe tah cha |Di wats a |
_War eagle_ |Wa me day wah kee |Akwiah |
_Buffalo_ |Pe tay |Hohats |
_Elk_ |Opon |Joowaroowa |
_Deer_ |Teh cha |Awgway |
_Beaver_ |Chapa |Jonockuh |
_Porcupine_ |..... |Onhatau |
_Horse_ |Shon ka wakon |Tyanootsruhuh |
_Robe_ |Shee na |Otskiyatsra |
_Moccasins_ |Hong pa |On ok qua |
_Shirt_ |O ken dee |..... |
_Leggings_ |Hons ka |Oristreh |
_Bow_ |Eta zee pah |Awraw |
_Quiver_ |O ju ah |Yonats ronarhoost pah |
_Arrow_ |Wonhee |Kanah |
_Shield_ |Woh ha chon k |Yununay nahquaw |
_Lance_ |Wow oo ke za |..... |
_Wigwam_ |Wah kee on |Onassahunwa |
_Woman_ |Wee on |Kau nuh wuh |
_Wife_ |We noh cha |..... |
_Child_ |Chin cha |Yetyatshoyuh |
_Girl_ |Wee chin cha |..... |
_Boy_ |Okee chin cha |Koonjookwher |
_Head_ |Pah |Otahra |
_Arms_ |Ees ta |Orunjha |
_Legs_ |Hoo |Orusay |
_Eyes_ |Ustah |Ookaray |
_Nose_ |Pah soo |Oojyasa |
_Mouth_ |Poo tay |Oosharunwa |
_Face_ |Ee tay |Ookahsa |
_Ears_ |Noh ghee |Ookahnay |
_Hands_ |Non pay |Ohahua |
_Fingers_ |..... |Oosookway |
_Foot_ |See |Oosa |
_Hair_ |Pay kee |Auwayrah |
_Canoe_ |Wahta |Oohuwa |
_River_ |Wah ta pah |Kinah |
_Paddle_ |Ee chah bo ka |Okawatsreh |
_Fish_ |Oh hong |Runjiuh |
_Vermilion_ |..... |Yout kojun ya |
_Painter_ |Ee cha zoo kah ga |Ah ah |
_Whiskey_ |Me ne wah ka |Wis ky |
_Pipe_ |Tchon de oopa |Yet jy arhoot hah |
_Tobacco_ |Tchondee |Jarhooh |
_Gun_ |Mon za wakon |Au naw |
_A man runs_ |We chasha ee onka |..... |
_He eats_ |U tah pee |yusyhoory |
_I think_ |Ee me doo ke cha |Kary |
_I am old_ |We ma chah cha |Auk hoor |
_She is young_ |Ha chee nah tum pee |Akatsah |
_Scalp_ |Wecha sha pa |..... |
_Scalp dance_ |Wah kee ta no wah |Onahray na yun kwah |
_War dance_ |..... |Ne yunk wah |
_White buffalo_ |Ta his ka |Owaryakuh |
_Raven_ |Kong hee |..... |
_Bear_ |Matto |Jotary yukoh |
_Antelope_ |Tah to ka no |Ojiruk |
_Spirits, or Ghosts_ |Wa nough hgee |Oonowak |
_Wolf_ |..... |Tskwarinuh |
_Dog_ |Shon ka |Jir |
_A brave_ |O eet e ka |..... |
_A great chief_ |We chasha on ta pe ka |Yego wa nuh |
_Old woman_ |Wa kon kana |Kaskwary |
_Fire_ |Pah ta |Yoneks |
_Council fire_ |Pah ta wah |..... |
_Council house_ |Te pe wah ka |Yunt kunis ah thah |
_Good-bye_ |How ke che wa |Tyowits nah na |
_One_ |On je |Unji |
_Two_ |Non pa |Nekty |
_Three_ |Hi ami ni |Au suh |
_Four_ |Tau pah |Hun tak |
_Five_ |Za pe tah |Wisk |
_Six_ |Shah pai |Ooyak |
_Seven_ |Shah co |Jarnak |
_Eight_ |Shah en do hen |Nakruh |
_Nine_ |Nen pe che onca |Ni ruh |
_Ten_ |Oka che min en |Wutsuh |
_Eleven_ |Oka on je |Unjits kahar |
_Twelve_ |Oka nonpa |Nekty tskahar |
_Thirteen_ |Oka hiamini |Au su tskahar |
_Fourteen_ |Oka tau pah |Untak tskahar |
_Fifteen_ |Oka za petah |Wisk tskahar |
_Sixteen_ |Oka shah pai |Ooyok tskahar |
_Seventeen_ |Oka shahko |Jarnak tskahar |
_Eighteen_ |Oka shah en do hen |Nakruh tskahar |
_Nineteen_ |Oka nen pe chi on ka |Niruh tskahar |
_Twenty_ |Oka chiminen non pa |Na wots huh |
_Thirty_ |Oka chiminen hiamini |Au suh tiwotshuh |
_Forty_ |Oka chiminen taupah |Huntak tiwotshuh |
_Fifty_ |Oka chiminen za petah |Wisk tiwotshuh |
_Sixty_ |Oka chiminen shah pai |Ooyak tiwotshuh |
_Seventy_ |Oka chiminen shahco |Jannak tiwotshuh |
_Eighty_ |Oka chiminen sha hen do hen |Naknuh tiwotshuh |
_Ninety_ |Oka chiminen nen pe chee on ca|Ninuh tiwotshuh |
_One hundred_ |O pounkrai |Kau yaustry |
_One thousand_ |Kaut o poun krai |Wutsu-kau yaustry |
APPENDIX—C.
CHARACTER.—(+Page+ 256.)
_Original._ _Secondary._
Handsome Ugly
Mild Austere
Modest Diffident
Virtuous Libidinous
Temperate Dissipated
Free Enslaved
Active Crippled
Affable Reserved
Social Taciturn
Hospitable Hospitable
Charitable Charitable
Religious Religious
Worshipful Worshipful
Credulous Suspicious
Superstitious Superstitious
Bold Timid
Straight Crooked
Graceful Graceless
Cleanly Filthy
Brave Brave
Revengeful Revengeful
Jealous Jealous
Cruel Cruel
Warlike Peaceable
Proud Humble
Honest Honest
Honourable Honourable
Ignorant Conceited
Vain Humble
Eloquent Eloquent
Independent Dependent
Grateful Grateful
Happy Miserable
Healthy Sickly
Long-lived Short-lived
Red Pale-red
Sober Drunken
Wild Wild
Increasing Decreasing
Faithful Faithful
Stout-hearted Broken-hearted
Indolent Indolent
Full-blood Mixed-blood
Living Dying
Rich Poor
Landholders Beggars
FINIS.
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 are no illustrations 246 and 247, and some are out of
sequence.
- “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.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Illustrations of the manners, customs, & condition of the North American Indians, Vol. 2 (of 2): With letters and notes, written during eight years of travel and adventure among the wildest and most remarkable tribes now existing" ***
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