_Hunter._ As a general remark, those Indians who have had least to do with civilized life are the most worthy of regard. Such as live near white men, or such as are frequently visited by them, seem to learn quickly the vices of others, without giving up their own. To observe the real character of red men, it is necessary to trace the turnings and windings of the Yellow Stone River, or the yet more remote sinuosities of the Upper Missouri. The nearer the United States, the more servile is the Indian character; and the nearer the Rocky Mountains, the more independent and open-hearted. _Austin._ If I ever go among the red men, the Yellow Stone River, or the Upper Missouri, will be the place for me. _Hunter._ Many of the chiefs of the tribes near the Rocky Mountains may be said to live in a state of splendour. They have the pure air of heaven around them and rivers abounding in fish. The prairie yields them buffaloes in plenty; and, as for their lodges and dress, some of them may be called sumptuous. Sometimes, twenty or thirty buffalo skins, beautifully dressed, are joined together to form a covering for a lodge; and their robes and different articles of apparel are so rich with ermine, the nails and claws of birds and animals, war-eagle plumes, and embroidery of highly coloured porcupine quills, that a monarch in his coronation robes is scarcely a spectacle more imposing. _Austin._ Ay, I remember the dress of Mah-to-toh-pa, "the four bears," his buffalo robe, his porcupine-quilled leggings, his embroidered buckskin mocassins, his otter necklace, his buffalo horns, and his splendid head-dress of war-eagle plumes. _Hunter._ In a state of war, it is the delight of a chief to leap on the back of his fiery steed, decorated as the leader of his tribe, and armed with his glittering lance and unerring bow, to lead on his band to victory. In the chase, he is as ardent as in the battle; smiling at danger, he plunges, on his flying steed, among a thousand buffaloes, launching his fatal shafts with deadly effect. Thus has the Indian of the far-west lived, and thus is he living still. But the trader and the rum-bottle, and the rifle and the white man are on his track; and, like his red brethren who once dwelt east of the Mississippi, he must fall back yet farther, and gradually decline before the approach of civilization. _Austin._ It is a very strange thing that white men will not let red men alone. What right have they to cheat them of their hunting-grounds? _Hunter._ I will relate to you an account, that appeared some time ago in most of the newspapers (though I cannot vouch for the truth of it,) of a chief who, though he was respected by his tribe before he went among the whites, had very little respect paid to him afterwards. _Brian._ I hope it is a long account.