“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. [TN1] Transcriber's note: “we will fight you” seems like an odd thing to say in this context, but that is what the print edition has. Maybe it should be “we will fight for you”? 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.