Illustrations of the manners, customs, & condition of the North American Indians, Vol. 1 (of 2): With letters and notes, written during eight years of travel and adventure among the wildest and most remarkable tribes now existingCatlin, George
History
Illustrations of the manners, customs, & condition of the North American Indians, Vol. 1 (of 2): With letters and notes, written during eight years of travel and adventure among the wildest and most remarkable tribes now existing
Catlin, George
Indians of North America
Of this beautiful native, which I think would form one of the loveliest
ornamental shrubs for a gentleman’s park or pleasure grounds, I
procured a number of the roots; but which, from the many accidents and
incidents that our unlucky bark was subjected to on our rough passage,
I lost them (and almost the recollection of them) as well as many other
curiosities I had collected on our way down the river.
On the morning of the next day, and not long after we had stopped and
taken our breakfast, and while our canoe was swiftly gliding along
under the shore of a beautiful prairie, I saw in the grass, on the
bank above me, what I supposed to be the back of a fine elk, busy at
his grazing. I let our craft float silently by for a little distance,
when I communicated the intelligence to my men, and slily ran in, to
the shore. I pricked the priming of my firelock, and taking a bullet
or two in my mouth, stepped ashore, and trailing my rifle in my hand,
went back under the bank, carefully crawling up in a little ravine,
quite sure of my game; when, to my utter surprise and violent alarm,
I found the elk to be no more nor less than an Indian pony, getting
his breakfast! and a little beyond him, a number of others grazing;
and nearer to me, on the left, a war-party reclining around a little
fire; and yet nearer, and within twenty paces of the muzzle of my gun,
the naked shoulders if a brawny Indian, who seemed busily engaged in
cleaning his gun. From this critical dilemma, the reader can easily
imagine that I vanished with all the suddenness and secrecy that was
possible, bending my course towards my canoe. Bogard and Ba’tiste
correctly construing the expression of my face, and the agitation of
my hurried retreat, prematurely unmoored from the shore; and the force
of the current carrying them around a huge pile of drift wood, threw
me back for some distance upon my own resources; though they finally
got in, near the shore, and I into the boat, with the steering oar in
my hand; when we plied our sinews with effect and in silence, till we
were wafted far from the ground which we deemed critical and dangerous
to our lives; for we had been daily in dread of meeting a war-party of
the revengeful Riccarees, which we had been told was on the river, in
search of the Mandans. From and after this exciting occurrence, the
entries in my journal for the rest of the voyage to the village of the
Mandans, were as follow:—
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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