“But a few weeks before I left the Sioux country with the
delegation, Ha-wan-je-tah (the one horn) had in some way been the
accidental cause of the death of his only son, a very fine youth;
and so great was the anguish of his mind at times, that he became
frantic and insane. In one of these moods he mounted his favourite
war-horse with his bow and his arrows in his hand, and dashed off
at full speed upon the prairies, repeating the most solemn oath,
‘that he would slay the first living thing that fell in his way, be
it man or beast, or friend or foe.’
“No one dared to follow him, and after he had been absent an hour
or two, his horse came back to the village with two arrows in its
body, and covered with blood! Fears of the most serious kind were
now entertained for the fate of the chief, and a party of warriors
immediately mounted their horses, and retraced the animal’s tracks
to the place of the tragedy, where they found the body of their
chief horribly mangled and gored by a buffalo bull, whose carcass
was stretched by the side of him.
“A close examination of the ground was then made by the Indians,
who ascertained by the tracks, that their unfortunate chief, under
his unlucky resolve, had met a buffalo bull in the season when
they are very stubborn, and unwilling to run from any one; and
had incensed the animal by shooting a number of arrows into him,
which had brought him into furious combat. The chief had then
dismounted, and turned his horse loose, having given it a couple of
arrows from his bow, which sent it home at full speed, and then had
thrown away his bow and quiver, encountering the infuriated animal
with his knife alone, and the desperate battle resulted as I have
before-mentioned, in the death of both. Many of the bones of the
chief were broken, as he was gored and stamped to death, and his
huge antagonist had laid his body by the side of him, weltering in
blood from an hundred wounds made by the chief’s long and two-edged
knife.”
So died this elegant and high-minded nobleman of the wilderness,
whom I confidently had hoped to meet and admire again at some
future period of my life. (_Vide_ +plate+ 86).
[9] _Wampum_ is the Indian name of ornaments manufactured by the
Indians from vari-coloured shells, which they get on the shores of
the fresh water streams, and file or cut into bits of half an inch,
or an inch in length, and perforate (giving to them the shape of
pieces of broken pipe stems), which they string on deers’ sinews,
and wear on their necks in profusion; or weave them ingeniously
into war-belts for the waist.
Amongst the numerous tribes who have formerly inhabited the
Atlantic Coast, and that part of the country which now constitutes
the principal part of the United States, wampum has been invariably
manufactured, and highly valued as a circulating medium (instead of
coins, of which the Indians have no knowledge); so many strings, or
so many hands-breadth, being the fixed value of a horse, a gun, a
robe, &c.
In treaties, the wampum belt has been passed as the pledge of
friendship, and from time immemorial sent to hostile tribes, as the
messenger of peace; or paid by so many fathoms length, as tribute
to conquering enemies, and Indian kings.
It is a remarkable fact, and worthy of observation in this place,
that after I passed the Mississippi, I saw but very little wampum
used; and on ascending the Missouri, I do not recollect to have
seen it worn at all by the Upper Missouri Indians, although the
same materials for its manufacture are found in abundance through
those regions. I met with but very few strings of it amongst the
Missouri Sioux, and nothing of it amongst the tribes north and
west of them. Below the Sioux, and along the whole of our Western
frontier, the different tribes are found loaded and beautifully
ornamented with it, which they can now afford to do, for they
consider it of little value, as the Fur Traders have ingeniously
introduced a spurious imitation of it, manufactured by steam or
otherwise, of porcelain or some composition closely resembling it,
with which they have flooded the whole Indian country, and sold at
so reduced a price, as to cheapen, and consequently destroy, the
value and meaning of the original wampum, a string of which can now
but very rarely be found in any part of the country.
[10] Several years after I left the Sioux country, I saw Messrs.
Chardon and Piquot, two of the Traders from that country, who
recently had left it, and told me in St. Louis, whilst looking at
the portrait of this girl, that while staying in Mr. Laidlaw’s
Fort, the chief, Black Rock, entered the room suddenly where the
portrait of his daughter was hanging on the wall, and pointing to
it with a heavy heart, told Mr. Laidlaw, that whilst his band was
out on the prairies, where they had been for several months “making
meat,” his daughter had died, and was there buried. “My heart is
glad again,” said he, “when I see her here alive; and I want the
one the medicine-man made of her, which is now before me, that I
can see her, and talk to her. My band are all in mourning for her,
and at the gate of your Fort, which I have just passed, are ten
horses for you, and Ee-ah-sa-pa’s wigwam, which you know is the
best one in the Sioux nation. I wish you to take down my daughter
and give her to me.” Mr. Laidlaw, seeing the _unusually_ liberal
price that this nobleman was willing to pay for a portrait, and
the true grief that he expressed for the loss of his child, had
not the heart to abuse such noble feeling; and taking the painting
from the wall, placed it into his hands; telling him that it of
right belonged to him, and that his horses and wigwam he must take
back and keep them, to mend, as far as possible, his liberal heart,
which was broken by the loss of his only daughter.
[11] Several years since writing the above, I made a visit with
my wife, to the venerable parent of Mr. Chardon, who lives in her
snug and neat mansion, near the City of Philadelphia, where we were
treated with genuine politeness and hospitality. His mother and two
sisters, who are highly respectable, had many anxious questions
to ask about him; and had at the same time, living with them, a
fine-looking half-breed boy, about ten years old, the son of Monsr.
Chardon and his Indian wife, whom I have above spoken of. This fine
boy who had received the name of Bolivar, had been brought from the
Indian country by the father, and left here for his education, with
which they were taking great pains.
LETTER—No. 28.