Whilst painting the portraits of the chiefs and braves of the Sioux,
as described in my last epistle, my painting-room was the continual
rendezvous of the worthies of the tribe; and I, the “lion of the day,”
and my art, the _summum_ and _ne plus ultra_ of mysteries, which
engaged the whole conversation of chiefs and sachems, as well as of
women and children. I mentioned that I have been obliged to paint them
according to rank, as they looked upon the operation as a very great
honour, which I, as “a great chief and medicine-man,” was conferring on
all who sat to me. Fortunate it was for me, however, that the honour
was not a sufficient inducement for all to overcome their fears, which
often stood in the way of their consenting to be painted; for if all
had been willing to undergo the operation, I should have progressed
but a very little way in the “_rank and file_” of their worthies; and
should have had to leave many discontented, and (as they would think)
neglected. About one in five or eight was willing to be painted, and
the rest thought they would be much more sure of “sleeping quiet in
their graves” after they were dead, if their pictures were not made. By
this lucky difficulty I got great relief, and easily got through with
those who were willing, and at the same time decided by the chiefs to
be worthy, of so signal an honour.
After I had done with the chiefs and braves, and proposed to paint a
few of the women, I at once got myself into a serious perplexity, being
heartily laughed at by the whole tribe, both by men and by women, for
my exceeding and (to them) unaccountable condescension in seriously
proposing to paint a woman; conferring on her the same honour that
I had done the chiefs and braves. Those whom I had honoured, were
laughed at by hundreds of the jealous, who had been decided unworthy
the distinction, and were now amusing themselves with the _very
enviable honour_ which the _great white medicine-man_ had conferred,
_especially_ on _them_, and was now to confer equally upon the _squaws_!
The first reply that I received from those whom I had painted, was,
that if I was to paint women and children, the sooner I destroyed
_their_ pictures, the better; for I had represented to them that I
wanted their pictures to exhibit to white chiefs, to shew who were
the most distinguished and worthy of the Sioux; and their women had
never taken scalps, nor did anything better than make fires and dress
skins. I was quite awkward in this dilemma, in explaining to them
that I wanted the portraits of the women to hang _under_ those of
their husbands, merely to shew how their women _looked_, and how they
_dressed_, without saying any more of them. After some considerable
delay of my operations, and much deliberation on the subject, through
the village, I succeeded in getting a number of women’s portraits, of
which the two above introduced are a couple.
The vanity of these men, after they had agreed to be painted was beyond
all description, and far surpassing that which is oftentimes immodest
enough in civilized society, where the sitter generally leaves the
picture, when it is done to speak for, and to take care of, itself;
while an Indian often lays down, from morning till night, in front of
his portrait, admiring his own beautiful face, and faithfully guarding
it from day to day, to save it from accident or harm.
This _watching_ or _guarding_ their portraits, I have observed during
all of my travels amongst them as a very curious thing; and in many
instances, where my colours were not dry, and subjected to so many
accidents, from the crowds who were gathering about them, I have found
this peculiar guardianship of essential service to me—relieving my mind
oftentimes from a great deal of anxiety.
I was for a long time at a loss for the true cause of so singular
a peculiarity, but at last learned that it was owing to their
superstitious notion, that there may be life to a certain extent in the
picture; and that if harm or violence be done to it, it may in some
mysterious way, affect their health or do them other injury.
After I had been several weeks busily at work with my brush in this
village, and pretty well used to the modes of life in these regions—and
also familiarly acquainted with all the officers and clerks of the
Establishment, it was announced one day, that the steamer which we had
left, was coming in the river below, where all eyes were anxiously
turned, and all ears were listening; when, at length, we discovered the
puffing of her steam; and, at last, heard the thundering of her cannon,
which were firing from her deck.
The excitement and dismay caused amongst 6000 of these wild people,
when the steamer came up in front of their village, was amusing in the
extreme. The steamer was moored at the shore, however; and when Mr.
Chouteau and Major Sanford, their old friend and agent, walked ashore,
it seemed to restore their confidence and courage; and the whole
village gathered in front of the boat, without showing much further
amazement, or even curiosity about it.
The steamer rested a week or two at this place before she started on
her voyage for the head-waters of the Missouri; during which time,
there was much hilarity and mirth indulged in amongst the Indians, as
well as with the hands employed in the service of the Fur Company. The
appearance of a steamer in this wild country was deemed a wonderful
occurrence, and the time of her presence here, looked upon, and used
as a holiday. Some sharp encounters amongst the trappers, who come
in here from the mountains, loaded with packs of furs, with sinews
hardened by long exposure, and seemingly impatient for a _fight_, which
is soon given them by some bullying fisticuff-fellow, who steps forward
and settles the matter in a ring, which is made and strictly preserved
for _fair play_, until hard raps, and bloody noses, and blind eyes
“_settle the hash_,” and satisfy his trappership to lay in bed a week
or two, and then graduate, a sober and a civil man.
Amongst the Indians we have had numerous sights and
amusements to entertain and some to shock us. Shows of
dances—ball-plays—horse-racing—foot-racing, and wrestling in abundance.
Feasting—fasting, and prayers we have also had; and penance and
tortures, and almost every thing short of self-immolation.
Some few days after the steamer had arrived, it was announced that
a grand feast was to be given to the _great white chiefs_, who were
visitors amongst them; and preparations were made accordingly for it.
The two chiefs, Ha-wan-je-tah and Tchan-dee, of whom I have before
spoken, brought their two tents together, forming the two into a
semi-circle (+plate+ 96), enclosing a space sufficiently large to
accommodate 150 men; and sat down with that number of the principal
chiefs and warriors of the Sioux nation; with Mr. Chouteau, Major
Sanford, the Indian agent, Mr. M‘Kenzie, and myself, whom they had
invited in due time, and placed on elevated seats in the centre of the
crescent; while the rest of the company all sat upon the ground, and
mostly cross-legged, preparatory to the feast being dealt out.
In the centre of the semi-circle was erected a flag-staff, on which
was waving a white flag, and to which also was tied the calumet, both
expressive of their friendly feelings towards us. Near the foot of the
flag-staff were placed in a row on the ground, six or eight kettles,
with iron covers on them, shutting them tight, in which were prepared
the viands for our _voluptuous_ feast. Near the kettles, and on the
ground also, bottomside upwards, were a number of wooden bowls, in
which the meat was to be served out. And in front, two or three men,
who were there placed as waiters, to light the pipes for smoking, and
also to deal out the food.
In these positions things stood, and all sat, with thousands climbing
and crowding around, for a peep at the grand pageant; when at length,
Ha-wan-je-tah (the one horn), head chief of the nation, rose in front
of the Indian agent, in a very handsome costume, and addressed him
thus:—“My father, I am glad to see you here to-day—my heart is always
glad to see my father when he comes—our Great Father, who sends him
here is very rich, and we are poor. Our friend Mr. M‘Kenzie, who
is here, we are also glad to see; we know him well, and we shall
be sorry when he is gone. Our friend who is on your right-hand we
all know is very rich; and we have heard that he owns the great
_medicine-canoe_; he is a good man, and a friend to the red men. Our
friend the _White Medicine_, who sits with you, we did not know—he
came amongst us a stranger, and he has made me very well—all the women
know it, and think it very good; he has done many curious things, and
we have all been pleased with him—he has made us much amusement—and we
know he is great medicine.
[Illustration: 98]
“My father, I hope you will have pity on us, we are very poor—we offer
you to-day, not the best that we have got; for we have a plenty of good
buffalo hump and marrow—but we give you our hearts in this feast—we
have killed our faithful dogs to feed you—and the Great Spirit will
seal our friendship. I have no more to say.”
After these words he took off his beautiful war-eagle head-dress—his
shirt and leggings—his necklace of grizzly bears’ claws and his
moccasins; and tying them together, laid them gracefully down at the
feet of the agent as a present; and laying a handsome pipe on top of
them, he walked around into an adjoining lodge, where he got a buffalo
robe to cover his shoulders, and returned to the feast, taking his seat
which he had before occupied.
Major Sanford then rose and made a short speech in reply, thanking
him for the valuable present which he had made him, and for the very
polite and impressive manner in which it had been done; and sent to the
steamer for a quantity of tobacco and other presents, which were given
to him in return. After this, and after several others of the chiefs
had addressed him in a similar manner; and, like the first, disrobed
themselves, and thrown their beautiful costumes at his feet, one of the
three men in front deliberately lit a handsome pipe, and brought it to
Ha-wan-je-tah to smoke. He took it, and after presenting the stem to
the North—to the South—to the East, and the West—and then to the Sun
that was over his head, and pronounced the words “How—how—how!” drew
a whiff or two of smoke through it, and holding the bowl of it in one
hand, and its stem in the other, he then held it to each of our mouths,
as we successively smoked it; after which it was passed around through
the whole group, who all smoked through it, or as far as its contents
lasted, when another of the three waiters was ready with a second, and
at length a third one, in the same way, which lasted through the hands
of the whole number of guests. This smoking was conducted with the
strictest adherence to exact and established form, and the feast the
whole way, to the most positive silence. After the pipe is charged, and
is being lit, until the time that the chief has drawn the smoke through
it, it is considered an evil omen for any one to speak; and if any one
break silence in that time, even in a whisper, the pipe is instantly
dropped by the chief, and their superstition is such, that they would
not dare to use it on this occasion; but another one is called for
and used in its stead. If there is no accident of the kind during the
smoking, the waiters then proceed to distribute the meat, which is soon
devoured in the feast.
In his case the lids were raised from the kettles, which were all
filled with dogs’ meat alone. It being well-cooked, and made into a
sort of a stew, sent forth a very savoury and pleasing smell, promising
to be an acceptable and palatable food. Each of us civilized guests had
a large wooden bowl placed before us, with a huge quantity of dogs’
flesh floating in a profusion of soup, or rich gravy, with a large
spoon resting in the dish, made of the buffalo’s horn. In this most
difficult and painful dilemma we sat; all of us knowing the solemnity
and good feeling in which it was given, and the absolute necessity of
falling to, and devouring a little of it. We all tasted it a few times,
and resigned our dishes, which were quite willingly taken, and passed
around with others, to every part of the group, who all ate heartily of
the _delicious viands_, which were soon dipped out of the kettles, and
entirely devoured; after which each one arose as he felt disposed, and
walked off without uttering a word. In this way the feast ended, and
all retired silently, and gradually, until the ground was left vacant
to the charge of the waiters or officers, who seemed to have charge of
it during the whole occasion.
This feast was unquestionably given to us, as the most undoubted
evidence they could give us of their friendship; and we, who knew
the spirit and feeling in which it was given, could not but treat it
respectfully, and receive it as a very high and marked compliment.
Since I witnessed it on this occasion, I have been honoured with
numerous entertainments of the kind amongst the other tribes, which I
have visited towards the sources of the Missouri, and all conducted in
the same solemn and impressive manner; from which I feel authorized to
pronounce the _dog-feast_ a truly religious ceremony, wherein the poor
Indian sees fit to sacrifice his faithful companion to bear testimony
to the sacredness of his vows of friendship, and invite his friend to
partake of its flesh, to remind him forcibly of the reality of the
sacrifice, and the solemnity of his professions.
The dog, amongst all Indian tribes, is more esteemed and more valued
than amongst any part of the civilized world; the Indian who has more
time to devote to his company, and whose untutored mind more nearly
assimilates to that of his faithful servant, keeps him closer company,
and draws him nearer to his heart; they hunt together, and are equal
sharers in the chase—their bed is one; and on the rocks, and on their
coats of arms they carve his image as the symbol of fidelity. Yet, with
all of these he will end his affection with this faithful follower, and
with tears in his eyes, offer him as a sacrifice to seal the pledge he
has made to man; because a feast of venison, or of buffalo meat, is
what is due to every one who enters an Indian’s wigwam; and of course,
conveys but a passive or neutral evidence, that generally goes for
nothing.
I have sat at many of these feasts, and never could but appreciate
the moral and solemnity of them. I have seen the master take from the
bowl the head of his victim, and descant on its former affection and
fidelity with tears in his eyes. And I have seen guests at the same
time by the side of me, jesting and sneering at the poor Indian’s folly
and stupidity; and I have said in my heart, that they never deserved a
name so good or so honourable as that of the poor animal whose bones
they were picking.
At the feast which I have been above describing, each of us tasted a
little of the meat, and passed the dishes on to the Indians, who soon
demolished everything they contained. We all agreed that the meat was
well cooked, and seemed to be a well-flavoured and palatable food; and
no doubt, could have been eaten with a good relish, if we had been
hungry, and ignorant of the nature of the food we were eating.
The flesh of these dogs, though apparently relished by the Indians,
is, undoubtedly, inferior to the venison and buffalo’s meat, of which
feasts are constantly made where friends are invited, as they are in
civilized society, to a pleasant and convivial party; from which fact
alone, it would seem clear, that they have some extraordinary motive,
at all events, for feasting on the flesh of that useful and faithful
animal; even when, as in the instance I have been describing, their
village is well supplied with fresh and dried meat of the buffalo. The
dog-feast is given, I believe, by all tribes in North America; and
by them all, I think, this faithful animal, as well as the horse, is
sacrificed in several different ways, to appease offended Spirits or
Deities, whom it is considered necessary that they should conciliate in
this way; and when done, is invariably done by giving the best in the
herd or the kennel.
LETTER—No. 29.