Transcriber’s Note

Some compound words appeared both with and without a hyphen. They are given as printed. Where a word is hyphenated on a line break, the hyphen is retained if the preponderance of other appearances indicate it was intended.

Numerals identifying the figures in Plate 18 have been removed and replaced for better legibility.

The few footnotes are repositioned at the end the text, and have been re-numbered consecutively.

Please consult the note at the end of this text for details of any corrections made.

CATLIN’S NOTES

OF

EIGHT YEARS’ TRAVELS AND RESIDENCE
IN EUROPE

WITH HIS
NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN COLLECTION.

VOLUME II.

ADVENTURES
OF THE
OJIBBEWAY AND IOWAY INDIANS
IN
ENGLAND, FRANCE, AND BELGIUM;

BEING NOTES OF
EIGHT YEARS’ TRAVELS AND RESIDENCE IN EUROPE
WITH HIS
NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN COLLECTION,

BY GEO. CATLIN.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

With numerous Engravings.

THIRD EDITION.

LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR,
AT HIS INDIAN COLLECTION, NO. 6, WATERLOO PLACE.

1852.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

CATLIN’S NOTES IN EUROPE,
&c. &c.

CHAPTER XVII.

Arrival of fourteen Ioway Indians in London—Their lodgings in St. James’s Street—The Author visits them—Their portraits and names—Mr. Melody, their conductor—Jeffrey Doraway, their interpreter—Landlady’s alarm—Indians visit the Author’s Collection in the Egyptian Hall—Arrangement to dance in the Collection—The Doctor (Medicine or Mystery man) on top of the Hall—Their first drive in a bus—Doctor’s appearance outside—Indians’ first impressions of London—Lascars sweeping the streets—Man with a big nose—The Doctor lost, and found on the housetop—Their first exhibition in Egyptian Hall—Eagle-dance—The Doctor’s speech—Great amusement of the ladies—His description of the railroad from Liverpool to London—War-dance, great applause—The “jolly fat dame”—She presents a gold bracelet to the Doctor by mistake—Her admiration of the Roman-nose—War-whoop—Description of—Approaching-dance—Wolf-song, and description of—Great amusement of the audience—Shaking hands—Mistake with the bracelet.

The event which I spoke of at the close of my last chapter—the arrival of another party of Indians—was one which called upon me at once for a new enterprise, and I suddenly entered upon it, again deferring the time of my return to my native land.

The “fourteen Ioway Indians,” as report had said, had arrived, and were in apartments at No. 7, St. James’s Street, with their interpreter. This party was in charge of Mr. G. H. C. Melody, who had accompanied them from their own country, with a permission gained from the Secretary at War to bring them to Europe, which permission was granted in the following words:—

War Department, Washington City, Sept. 14th, 1843.

Dear Sir,

In answer to your application relative to Mr. Melody’s making a tour to Europe with a party of Ioway Indians, as well as to a similar one on his behalf from the Rev. Wm. P. Cochran, of Marian County, Missouri, I beg leave to say, that it has not been usual to grant any permissions of the kind, and the verbal instructions to the Agents, Superintendents, &c. have been against permitting such tours, for the reason, I presume, that the persons having them in charge are usually men who merely wish to make money out of them by exhibitions, without taking any care of their habits or morals, or inducing them to profit by what they see and hear upon their route.

In the present case, however, I do not think that the evils usually to be apprehended will occur, from the character of Mr. Melody, and the mode in which the Indians are proposed to be selected. This I understand is to be done by the Chief, White Cloud, with the full assent of the individuals thus selected, and their continuance on the tour to be their own act.

Under all the circumstances, I suppose all the Department can do, is to allow Mr. Melody and the Chiefs of the tribe to do as they please, without imposing the usual or any prohibition.

I am, yours, very truly,
J. M. Porter,
Secretary at War.

Vespasian Ellis, Esq.

Washington City, Sept. 1843.

Dear Sir,

Under this letter you are authorised to make any arrangement with the Chief of the tribe of Indians that you and he may please to make; and the War Department agrees, in consideration of your well-known integrity of character, not to interfere with the arrangement which you and the Chief or the Indians may make.

Your obedient Servant,
Vespasian Ellis.

Mr. Melody.

Mr. Melody called upon me immediately on his arrival in London, and I went with him to see his party, several of whom I at once recognized as I entered their rooms. On seeing me they all rose upon their feet and offered me their hands, saluting me by their accustomed word, “How! how! how! Chip-pe-ho-la!” and evidently were prepared for great pleasure on meeting me. White Cloud, the head chief of the tribe, was of the party, and also the war-chief Neu-mon-ya (the Walking Rain). These two chiefs, whose portraits were then hanging in my collection, had stood before me for their pictures several years previous in their own village, and also one of the warriors now present, whose name was Wash-ka-mon-ya (the Fast Dancer). These facts being known, one can easily imagine how anxious these good fellows had been, during a journey of 2000 miles from their country to New York, and then during their voyage across the ocean, to meet me in a foreign land, who had several years before shared the hospitality of their village, and, to their knowledge, had done so much to collect and perpetuate the history of their race. They had come also, as I soon learned, in the full expectation to dance in my collection, which they were now impatient to see.

This first interview was during the evening of their arrival, and was necessarily brief, that they might get their night’s rest, and be prepared to visit my rooms in the morning. A few pipes were smoked out as we were all seated on the floor, in a “talk” upon the state of affairs in their country and incidents of their long and tedious journey, at the end of which they now required rest, and I left them.

By entering the city at night, they had created little excitement or alarm, except with the landlady and her servants, where they had been taken in. Their rooms had been engaged before their arrival, but the good woman “had no idea they were going to look so savage and wild; she was very much afraid that their red paint would destroy her beds,” not yet knowing that they were to wash the paint all off before they retired to rest, and that then they were to spread their buffalo robes upon the floor and sleep by the side of, and under her beds, instead of getting into them. These facts, when they became known, amused her very much; and Mr. Melody’s representations of the harmlessness and honesty of the Indians, put her at rest with respect to the safety of her person and her property about her house.

The objects of these being the same as those of the former party, of seeing the country and making money by their exhibitions, I entered into a similar arrangement with Mr. Melody, joining with my collection, conducting their exhibitions, and sharing the expenses and receipts of the same, on condition that such an arrangement should be agreeable to the Indians.

Their first night’s rest in London being finished, they were all up at an early hour, full of curiosity to see what was around them; and their fourteen red heads out of their front windows soon raised a crowd and a novel excitement in St. James’s. Every body knew that the “Indians had gone,” and the conjectures amongst the crowd were various and curious as to this strange arrival. Some said it was “the wedding party returned;” others, more sagacious, discovered the difference in their appearance, and pronounced them “the real cannibals from New Zealand;” and others said “their heads were too red, and they could be nothing else than the real red-heads—the man-eaters—that they had read of somewhere, but had forgotten the place.”

The morning papers, however, which are the keys for all such mysteries, soon solved the difficulty, but without diminishing the crowd, by the announcement that a party of fourteen Ioway Indians, from the base of the Rocky Mountains, had arrived during the night and taken up their lodgings in St. James’s Street.

After taking their breakfasts and finishing their toilets, they stepped into carriages and paid their first visit to my collection, then open in the Egyptian Hall. Instead of yelling and shouting as the Ojibbeways did on first entering it, they all walked silently and slowly to the middle of the room, with their hands over their mouths, denoting surprise and silence. In this position, for some minutes (wrapped in their pictured robes, which were mostly drawn over their heads or up to their eyes), they stood and rolled their eyes about the room in all directions, taking a general survey of what was around them, before a word was spoken. There was an occasional “she-e” in a lengthened whisper, and nothing more for some time, when at length a gradual and almost imperceptible conversation commenced about portraits and things which they recognized around the room. They had been in a moment transferred into the midst of hundreds of their friends and their enemies, who were gazing at them from the walls—amongst wig-wams and thousands of Indian costumes and arms, and views of the prairies they live in—altogether opening to their view, and to be seen at a glance, what it would take them years to see in their own country. They met the portraits of their chiefs and other friends, upon the walls, and extended their hands towards them; and they gathered in groups in front of their enemies, whom the warriors had met in battle, and now recognized before them. They looked with great pleasure on a picture of their own village, and examined with the closest scrutiny the arms and weapons of their enemies. One may easily imagine how much there was in this collection to entertain these rude people, and how much to command their attachment to me, with whom they had already resolved to unite.

A council was held and the pipe lit under the Crow wig-wam, which was standing in the middle of my room, when Mr. Melody explained to the Indians that he had now got them safe across the ocean as he had promised, and into the midst of the greatest city in the world, where they would see many curious things, and make many good and valuable friends, if they conducted themselves properly, which he was confident they would do.

“You have met,” said he, “your old friend Chip-pe-ho-la, whom you have talked so much about on the way; you are now in his wonderful collection, and he is by the side of you, and you will hear what he has to say.” (“How! how! how!”)

I reminded the White-cloud of the time that I was in his village, and lived under his father’s tent, where I had been kindly treated, and for which I should always feel grateful. That in meeting them here, I did not meet them as strangers, but as friends. (“How! how! how!”) That they had come a great way, and with a view to make something to carry home to their wives and little children; that Mr. Melody and I had entered into an arrangement by which I was in hopes that my efforts might aid in enabling them to do so. (“How! how! how!”) That I was willing to devote all my time, and do all that was in my power, but the continuation of my exertions would depend entirely upon their own conduct, and their efforts to gain respect, by aiding in every way they could, and keeping themselves entirely sober, and free from the use of spirituous liquors. (“How! how! how!”)

Mr. Melody here remarked that they had pledged their words to him and their Great Father (as the condition on which they were allowed to come), that they would drink no ardent spirits while absent, and that he was glad to say they had thus far kept their promise strictly. (“How! how! how!”)

I told them I was glad to hear this, and I had no doubt but they would keep their word with me on that point, for every thing depended on it. We were amongst a people who look upon drunkenness as low and beastly, and also as a crime; and as I had found that most white people were of opinion that all Indians were drunkards, if they would show by their conduct that such was not the case, they would gain many warm and kind friends wherever they went. (“How! how! how!”) I told them that the Ojibbeways whom I had had with me, and who had recently gone home, gave me a solemn promise when they arrived that they would keep entirely sober and use no spirituous liquors,—that they kept that promise awhile, but I had been grieved to hear that before they left the country they had taken up the wicked habit of drinking whiskey, and getting drunk, by which they had lost all the respect that white people had for them when they first came over. (A great laugh, and “How! how! how!”)

Neu-mon-ya (the war-chief) replied to me, that they were thankful that the Great Spirit had kept them safe across the ocean and allowed them to see me, and to smoke the pipe again with me, and to hear my wise counsel, which they had all determined to keep (“How! how! how!”). He said that they had been very foolish to learn to drink “fire-water” in their country, which was very destructive to them, and they had promised their Great Father, the President, that they would drink none of it whilst they were abroad. He said he hoped I would not judge them by the Ojibbeways who had been here, “for,” said he, “they are all a set of drunkards and thieves, and always keep their promises just about as well as they kept them with you.” (A laugh, and “How! how! how!”)[1]

This talk, which was short, was ended here, to the satisfaction of all parties, and the Indians were again amusing themselves around the room, leaving the wig-wam and further conversations to Mr. Melody, the interpreter, and myself. Mr. Melody, though a stranger to me, bearing the high recommendations contained in the letter of the Secretary at War, already published, at once had my confidence (which I am pleased to say his conduct has kept up) as an excellent and honest man.

Their interpreter, Jeffrey Doraway (a mulatto), and who had been one of the first to recognize and hail me when I entered their rooms, had been an old and attached acquaintance of mine while travelling in that country, and that acquaintance had several times been renewed in St. Louis, and New York, and other places where I had subsequently met him. He had been raised from childhood in the tribe, and the chiefs and all the party were very much attached to him, and his interest seemed to be wholly identified with that of the tribe. He was of a most forbearing and patient disposition, and of temperate habits, and as he was loved by the chiefs, had great influence with them, and control over the party.

I related to Mr. Melody and Jeffrey the difficulties that laid before us; the prejudices raised in the public, mind by the conduct of Mr. Rankin with his party of Ojibbeways, and the unfortunate season of the year at which they had arrived in London. That the middle of July was the very worst season in which to open an exhibition, and that it might be difficult to raise a second excitement sufficiently strong to pay the very heavy expenses we must incur; but that I had resolved to unite my whole efforts to theirs, to bring their party into notice; which formed so much more complete and just a representation of the modes and appearance of the wild Indians of America than the Ojibbeways had given.

Finishing our conversation here, we found the Indians adjusting their plumes, and their robes, and their weapons, preparing to step into their “omnibus and four,” to take their first rapid glance at the great City of London, in “a drive,” which was to pass them through some of its principal thoroughfares for their amusement. At this moment of excitement it was suddenly announced that one of the party (and a very essential one), the “Doctor” (or medicine man), was missing! Search was everywhere making for him, and when it was quite certain that he could not have passed into the street, Jeffrey inquired of the curator of the Hall if there was any passage that led out upon the roof? to which the curator replied, “Yes.” “Well then,” said Jeffrey, “we may be sure that he is there, for it is ‘a way that he has:’ he always is uneasy until he gets as high as he can go, and then he will stay there all night if you will let him alone.” I went immediately to the roof, and found him standing on one corner of the parapet, overlooking Piccadilly,—wrapped in his buffalo robe, and still as a statue, while thousands were assembling in the streets to look at him, and to warn him of the danger they supposed him in.

The readers who have not had the pleasure of seeing this eccentric character, will scarcely be able to appreciate the oddity of this freak until they become better acquainted with the Doctor in the following pages. I invited him down from his elevated position, which he seemed reluctant to leave, and he joined his party, who passed into their carriage at the door. In this moment of confusion, of escaping from the crowd and closing the door, heads were counted, and the old Doctor was missing again. A moment’s observation showed, however, that his ascending propensity had gained him a position over their heads, as he had seated himself by the side of the driver, with his buffalo robe wrapped around him, the long and glistening blade of his spear passing out from underneath it, near to his left ear, and his vermilioned face surmounted by a huge pair of buffalo horns, rising out of a crest of eagle’s quills and ermine skins. Thus loaded, and at the crack of the whip, and amidst the yelling multitude that had gathered around them, did the fourteen Ioways dash into the streets, to open their eyes to the sights and scenes of the great metropolis.

An hour or so in the streets, in a pleasant day, enabled them to see a great deal that was unlike the green prairies where they lived; and the “old Doctor,” wrapped in his robe, and ogling the pretty girls, and everything else that he saw that was amusing as he passed along, raised a new excitement in the streets, and gave an extensive notification that “the wedding party had actually got back,” or that another party of red skins had arrived. They returned to their lodgings in great glee, and amused us at least for an hour with their “first impressions” of London; the leading, striking feature of which, and the one that seemed to afford them the greatest satisfaction, was the quantity of fresh meat that they saw in every street hanging up at the doors and windows—pigs, and calves, and sheep, and deer, and prairie hens, in such profusion that they thought “there would be little doubt of their getting as much fresh meat as they could eat.” Besides this, they had seen many things that amused them, and others that excited their pity. They laughed much about the “black fellows with white eyes” who were carrying bags of coal, and “every one of them had got their hats on the wrong side before.” They had seen many people who seemed to be very poor, and looked as if they were hungry: for they held out their hands to people passing by, as if they were asking for something to eat. “They had passed two Indians, with brooms in their hands, sweeping the dirt in the streets!”

This occurrence had excited their greatest anxieties to know “what Indians they could be, that would be willing to take a broom in their hands and sweep the dirt from under white men’s feet, and then hold out their hands to white people for money to buy food to eat.” They all agreed “that Ioways would not do it, that Sioux would not, that Pawnees would not;” and when they were just deciding that their enemies, the Ojibbeways, might be slaves enough to do it, and that these were possibly a part of the Ojibbeway party that had been flourishing in London, I explained the mystery to them, by informing them that their conjectures were wrong—that it was true they were Indians, but not from North America. I agreed with them that no North American Indian would use that mode of getting his living, but that there were Indians in different parts of the world, and that these were from the East Indies, a country many thousands of miles from here; that these people were Indians from that country, and were of a tribe called Lascars; that many of them were employed by the captains of English ships to help to navigate their vessels from that country to this; and that in London they often come to want, and are glad to sweep the streets and beg, as the means of living, instead of starving to death. It seemed still a mystery to them, but partly solved, and they made many further remarks among themselves about them. The good landlady at this moment announced to Mr. Melody and Jeffrey that the dinner for the Indians was ready, and in a moment all were seated save the Doctor; he was missing. “That old fool,” said Jeffrey, “there’s no doubt but he has found his way to the top of the house.” I was conducted by one of the servants through several unoccupied rooms and dark passages, and at last through a narrow and almost impassable labyrinth that brought me out upon the roof. The “Doctor” was there; and, wrapped in his buffalo robe, with his red face and his buffalo horns, was standing like a Zealand penguin, and smiling upon the crowds of gazers who were gathering in the streets, and at the windows, and upon the house-tops, in the vicinity.

For the several days succeeding this, while the Indians were lying still, and resting from their long and tedious voyage, and I was announcing in the usual way their arrival, and the time of the commencement of their exhibitions, I held many curious and amusing conversations with them about things they had already seen, and scenes and events that were yet in anticipation and before them. These are subjects, however, that must be passed over for events that were before us, and fuller of interest and excitement.

They had much amusement at this time also, about a man they said they had seen, with a remarkably big nose, which they said looked like a large potato (or wapsapinnakan), and one of the women sitting near the door of the omnibus declared “that it was actually a wapsapinnakan, for she could distinctly see the little holes where the sprouts grow out.” The bus, they said, had passed on rather too quick for all to have a fair look, but they believed they would at some future time meet him again, and take a good look at him.

The evening for their first appearance before the public having arrived, the Ioways were prepared in all their rouge and fine dresses, and made their début before a fashionable, but not a crowded audience. Their very appearance, as they entered the room, was so wild and classic, that it called forth applause from every part of the hall. The audience was composed chiefly of my friends, and others who had been familiar with the other group, and who were able to decide as to the comparative interest of the two parties; and it was proclaimed in every part of the room, that they were altogether more primitive in their appearance and modes, and decidedly a finer body of men. I had accompanied them on to the platform, and when they had got seated, and were lighting their pipe, I introduced them by stating, that in the exhibition of this party of Indians, I felt satisfied that I was bringing before the eyes of the audience the most just and complete illustration of the native looks and modes of the red men of the American wilderness, that had ever been seen on this side of the Atlantic; and that I should take great pleasure in introducing them and their modes, as they so satisfactorily illustrated and proved what I had been for several years labouring to show to English people, by my numerous paintings and Indian manufactures which I had collected, as well as by my notes of travel amongst these people, which I had recently published: That the Ioway was one of the remote tribes, yet adhering to all their native customs and native looks; and that this party, composed, as it was, of the two principal men of the tribe, and several of its most distinguished warriors, not only conveyed to the eyes of people in this country the most accurate account of primitive modes, but was calculated to excite the deepest interest, and to claim the respect of the community. That the position of this tribe being upon the great plains between the Missouri and the Rocky Mountains, 1000 miles farther west than the country from which the Ojibbeways came, their modes and personal appearance were very different, having as yet received no changes from the proximity of civilization: That I had visited this tribe several years before, during my travels in the Indian countries, and that I had there formed my first acquaintance with the two chiefs who were now here, and which acquaintance, from the hospitable manner in which they had welcomed me in their humble wig-wams, I now felt great pleasure in renewing: (“Hear, hear,” and applause.)

That these facts being known, with others which would be incidentally given, I felt fully assured that they would meet with a kind reception in this country, and that the audience were prepared for the introduction I was now to make of them and their modes.[2] (Great applause.)

I then pointed out and explained to the audience, the characteristic differences between the appearance and modes of this party and the Ojibbeways, whom they had seen, and which will be obvious to the reader in the annexed illustration ([Plate No. 9]). The Ioways, like three other tribes only, in North America, all adhere to their national mode of shaving and ornamenting their heads. This is a very curious mode, and presents an appearance at once that distinguishes them from the Ojibbeways and other tribes, who cultivate the hair to the greatest length they possibly can, and pride themselves on its jet and glossy black. Every man in the Ioway tribe adheres to the mode of cutting all the hair as close as he can, excepting a small tuft which is left upon the crown, and being that part which the enemy takes for the scalp, is very properly denominated the “scalp-lock.” He then rouges with vermilion the whole crown of his head (and oftentimes his whole face), and surmounts his scalp-lock by a beautiful crest, made of the hair of the deer’s tail, dyed of vermilion red.

The chief man of this party, the “White Cloud,” the son of a distinguished chief of the same name, who died a few years since, was 35 years of age, and hereditary chief of the tribe. By several humane and noble acts, after he received his office of chief, he gained the admiration and friendship of the officers of the United States Government, as well as of his tribe, and had therefore been countenanced by the Government (as has been shown) in the enterprise of going abroad.

Neu-mon-ya (the Walking Rain), and war-chief of the tribe, was 54 years of age, and nearly six feet and a half in height. A noble specimen of the manly grace and dignity that belong to the American wilderness, and also a man who had distinguished himself in the wars that he had led against his enemies.

Se-non-ti-yah (the Blistered Feet), the Medicine or Mystery Man, was a highly important personage of the party, and held a high and enviable position, as physician, soothsayer, and magician, in his tribe.

These personages are found in every tribe, and so much control have they over the superstitious minds of their people, that their influence and power in the tribe often transcend those of the chief. In all councils of war and peace they have a seat by the chiefs, and are as regularly consulted by the chiefs, as soothsayers were consulted in ancient days, and equal deference and respect is paid to their advice or opinions, rendering them oracles of the tribe in which they live.

N^o. 9.

A good illustration of this was given by this magician, while on their voyage to this country, a few weeks since, when near the land, off the English coast. The packet ship in which the Indians were passengers, was becalmed for several days, much to the annoyance of the Indians and numerous other passengers, when it was decided, by the Indian chief, that they must call upon the Medicine Man, to try the efficacy of his magical powers in the endeavour to raise a wind. For this purpose he very gradually went to work, with all due ceremony, according to the modes of the country, and after the usual ceremony of a mystery feast, and various invocations to the spirit of the wind and the ocean, both were conciliated by the sacrifice of many plugs of tobacco thrown into the sea; and in a little time the wind began to blow, the sails were filled, and the vessel soon wafted into port, to the amusement of the passengers, and much to the gratification of the Indians, who all believed, and ever will, that the vessel was set in motion by the potency of the Doctor’s mysterious and supernatural powers.

Of the Warriors, Shon-ta-yi-ga (the Little Wolf) and Nu-ho-mun-ya (called the “Roman Nose”) were the most distinguished, and I believe the world will agree with me, that it would be an act of injustice on my part, should I allow the poor fellows to carry through this country, without giving them publication, the subjoined documents,[3] by which it will be seen that they saved, in a humane manner, and worthy of warriors of better caste, the lives of ten unarmed and unoffending enemies.

Okee-wee-me (the wife of the Little Wolf) is the mother of the infant pappoose, called Corsair. This child is little more than three months old, and slung in the cradle on the mother’s back, according to the general custom practised by all the American tribes, and furnishes one of the most interesting illustrations in the group.

All tribes in America practise the same mode of carrying their infant children for several months from their birth upon a flat board resting upon the mother’s back, as she walks or rides, suspended by a broad strap passing over her forehead, or across her breast. By this mode of carrying their children, the mothers, who have to perform all the slavish duties of the camp, having the free use of their hands and arms, are enabled to work most of the time, and, in fact, exercise and labour nearly as well as if their children were not attached to their persons. These cradles are often, as in the present instance, most elaborately embroidered with porcupine quills, and loaded with little trinkets hanging within the child’s reach, that it may amuse itself with them as it rides, with its face looking from that of its mother, while she is at work, so as not to draw upon her valuable time.

This rigid, and seemingly cruel mode of binding the child with its back to a straight board, seems to be one peculiarly adapted to Indian life, and, I believe, promotes straight limbs, sound lungs, and long life.

I having thus introduced the party to their first audience in England, and left other remarks upon them for their proper place, the Indians laid by their pipe, and commenced their evening’s amusements by giving first their favourite, the Eagle-Dance. The Drum (and their “Eagle-Whistles,” with which they imitate the chattering of the soaring eagle), with their voices, formed the music for this truly picturesque and exciting dance. At their first pause in the dance, the audience, who had witnessed nothing of this description in the amusements of the Ojibbeways, being excited to the highest degree, encouraged the strangers with rounds of applause. The song in this dance is addressed to their favourite bird the war-eagle, and each dancer carries a fan made of the eagle’s tail, in his left hand, as he dances, and by his attitudes endeavours to imitate the motions of the soaring eagle. This, being a part of the war-dance, is a boasting dance; and at the end of each strain in the song some one of the warriors steps forth and, in an excited speech, describes the time and the manner in which he has slain his enemy in battle, or captured his horses, or performed some other achievement in war. After this the dance proceeds with increased spirit; and several in succession having thus excited their fellow-dancers, an indescribable thrill and effect are often produced before they get through.

In the midst of the noise and excitement of this dance the Doctor (or mystery-man) jumped forward to the edge of the platform, and making the most tremendous flourish of his spear which he held in his right hand, and his shield extended upon his left arm, recited the military deeds of his life—how he had slain his enemies in battle and taken their scalps; and with singular effect fitting the action to the word, acting them out as he described.

The thrilling effect produced by the Doctor’s boast brought him showers of applause, which touched his vanity, and at the close of the dance he imagined all eyes in admiration fixed upon him, and no doubt felt himself called upon for the following brief but significant speech which he delivered, waving his right hand over the heads of the audience from the front of the platform where he stood, and from which he dropped his most humble and obsequious smiles upon the groups of ladies who were near him, and applauding at the end of every sentence:—

“My Friends,—It makes me very happy to see so many smiling faces about me, for when people smile and laugh, I know they are not angry—”

Jeffrey, the Interpreter, now made his début; the Doctor had beckoned him up by his side to interpret his speech to the audience, and when he explained the above sentence, the “Doctor” received a round of applause, and particularly from the ladies, who could not but be pleased with the simple vanity of the speaker and the self-complacent smiles which he always lavished upon the fair sex who were around him. The Doctor, though advanced to the sound and efficient age of 45, had never taken to him a wife; and, like too many of his fraternity, had always lived upon the excessive vanity of believing that he was the beau idéal of his tribe, and admired too much by all to be a legitimate subject of exclusive appropriation to any particular one. And more than this (which may not have quite fallen to the happy lot of any of his brother bachelors in the polished world), from the sort of charitable habit he had of spreading his glowing smiles upon the crowds about him, one would almost be of opinion that, in his own community, under the aids and charms of his profession, he in a measure had existed upon the belief that his smiles were food and clothing for the crowds upon whom they were bestowed.

The Doctor yet stood, the concentration of smiles and anxious looks from every part of the room, and at length proceeded ([Plate No. 10]):—

“My Friends,—I see the ladies are pleased, and this pleases me—because I know, that if they are pleased, they will please the men.”

It was quite impossible for the Doctor to proceed further until he had bowed to the burst of laughter and applause from all parts of the room, and particularly from the ladies. This several times ceased, but suddenly burst out again, and too quick for him to resume. He had evidently made a “hit” with the ladies, and he was braced strong in courage to make the best use of it, although the rest of his comrades, who were seated and passing the pipe around, were laughing at him and endeavouring to embarrass him. One of the party, by the name of Wash-ka-mon-ya, and a good deal of the braggart, had the cruelty to say to him, “You old fool, you had better sit down, the white squaws are all laughing at you.” To which the Doctor, deliberately turning round, sarcastically replied, “You badger, go into your burrow backwards: I have said more in two sentences than you ever said in your life.” He then turned round, and calling Jeffrey nearer to his side, proceeded—

“My Friends,”—[here was a burst of irresistible laughter from the ladies, which the drollness of his expression and his figure excited at the moment, and in which, having met it all in good humour, he was taking a part, but continued]—

“My Friends,—I believe that our dance was pleasing to you, and that our noise has not given you offence. (Applause.)

“My Friends,—We live a great way from here, and we have come over a great salt lake to see you, and to offer you our hands. The Great Spirit has been kind to us; we know that our lives are always in his hands, and we thank him for keeping us safe. (How, how, how! from the Indians, and applause, with Hear, hear, hear!)

“My Friends,—We have met our friend Chip-pe-ho-la here, and seen the medicine things that he has done, and which are hanging all around us, and this makes us happy. We have found our chiefs’ faces on the walls, which the Great Spirit has allowed him to bring over safe, and we are thankful for this. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—This is a large village, and it has many fine wig-wams; we rode in a large carriage the other day and saw it all. (A laugh, and Hear!) We had heard a great deal about the people on this side of the water, but we did not think they were so rich; we believe that the Saganoshes know a great deal. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—We have come on your great medicine road, and it pleased us very much. When we landed from our ship, we came on your medicine road, and were told it would be very fine; but when we started, we were all very much alarmed; we went in the dark; we all went right down into the ground, under a high mountain; we had heard that a part of the white people go into the ground when they die, and some of them into the fire; we saw some fire; there was a great hissing, and a great deal of smoke coming out of this place,[4] and we could not get out; we were then somewhat afraid, my friends and I began to sing our ‘death-song;’ but when we had commenced, our hearts were full of joy, we came out again in the open air, and the country was very beautiful around us. (How, how, how! and great applause.)

“My Friends,—After we got out from under the ground, we were much pleased all the way on the medicine road until we got to this village. There were many things to please us, and I think that before the trees were cut down, it was a very beautiful country. My friends, we think there were Indians and buffalos in this country then. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—We think we saw some of the k’nick k’neck[5] as we came along the medicine road, and some quash-e-gon-eh-co,[6] but we came so fast that we were not certain; we should like to know. My Friends, this is all I have to say.” (How, how, how! and great applause.)

N^o. 10.

The Doctor’s speech, which would have been terminated much sooner if he had been allowed to proceed unmolested, had a very pleasing effect upon the audience, and had allowed abundant time for the rest of the party to prepare for the next dance.

I now announced to the audience that the Indians were about to give the Warrior’s-dance, as performed by their tribe. I explained the meaning of it, the circumstances under which it was given, and the respects in which it differed from the War-dance as given by the Ojibbeways. After which they were all upon their feet, and, with weapons in hand, proceeded to give it the most exciting, and even alarming effect.

They received great applause at the end of this dance, and also a number of presents, which were handed and thrown on to the platform. This created much excitement and good cheer among them, and I was not a little surprised, nor was I less amused and gratified, to discover at this moment, that the (so-called) “jolly fat dame,” of Ojibbeway notoriety, was along side of the platform, at her old stand, and, in her wonted liberality, the first one to start the fashion of making the poor fellows occasional presents. I regretted, however, that I should have been the ignorant cause of her bestowing her first present upon a person for whom she did not intend it. The finest-looking man of the party, and one of the youngest, was No-ho-mun-ya (the Roman-nose), upon whom it seems this good lady’s admiration had been fixed during the evening, notwithstanding the smiles that had been lavished by the Doctor, and the eloquence which he had poured forth in his boastings and speeches.

The elegant limbs, Herculean frame, and graceful and terrible movements of this six foot and a-half young man, as she had gazed upon him in this last dance, had softened her heart into all its former kindness and liberality, and she had at this moment, when I first discovered her, unclasped a beautiful bracelet from one of her arms, and was just reaching over the platform to say to me as she did, “Wonderful! wonderful! Mr. Catlin; I think it one of the wonders of the world! Will you hand this to that splendid fellow, with my compliments—give him my compliments, will you—it’s a bracelet for his arm (Cadotte has got the other, you know). Oh! but he is a splendid fellow—give him my compliments, will you. I think them a much finer party than the other—oh, far superior! I never saw the like; hand it to him, will you, and if he can’t put it on, poor fellow, I will show him how.”

All this had been run over so rapidly that I scarcely could recollect what she said, for several were speaking to me at the same time; and at that unfortunate moment it was that I committed the error, for which I was almost ready to break my own back when I found it out. I presented it by mistake to the Doctor, who, I supposed, had of course been winning all the laurels of the evening, and with them the good lady’s compliments, which it would have been quite awkward on her part and mine also to have unpresented. The Doctor raised up the bracelet as high as he could reach, and made the house ring and almost tremble with the war-whoop, which he several times repeated.[7] What could be done? She was too gallant, and I did not yet know the mistake. The Doctor happened to know how to put it on—it fitted to his copper-coloured arm above his elbow—and his true politeness led him to bow and to smile a thousand thanks upon the fair dame as he bent over her from the platform.

The Approaching-dance[8] was now given, in which the Doctor took the lead in great glee, and of course with great effect. He tilted off with a light and elastic step, as he was “following the track of his enemy,” and when he raised his brawny arm to beckon on his warriors to the attack, he took great pains to display the glistening trinket which he had accepted with such heartfelt satisfaction.

This dance finished, they all sat down upon the platform and passed the pipe around, whilst I was further explaining upon their appearance and modes, and the dance which they had just given. I asked them what amusement they proposed next, and they announced to me, that as the Doctor was taking all the honours and all the glory to himself on that night (and of whom they all seemed extremely jealous), they had decided that he should finish the amusements of the evening by singing the “Wolf-song.” He was so conscious of having engrossed the principal attention of the house that he at once complied with their request, though at other times it required a great effort to get him to sing it. I had not myself heard this song, which seemed, from their preparations, to promise some amusement, and which Jeffrey told me belonged exclusively to the Doctor, he having composed it. The Doctor was ready to commence, and wrapping his robe around him, having his right arm out, he shook a rattle (she-she-quoin) in his right hand, as he tilted about the platform, singing alone; at the end of a sentence he commenced to bark and howl like a wolf, when another jumped upon his feet and ran to him, and another, and another, and joined in the chorus, with their heads turned up like wolves when they are howling. He then sang another strain as he moved about the platform again, all following him, singing, and ready to join in the deafening chorus. This strange and comic song drew roars of laughter, and many rounds of applause for the Doctor, and left him, sure enough, the lion of the evening.[9]

After he had finished his song, he traversed the platform a few times, lavishing his self-complacent smiles upon the ladies around the room, and then desired me to say to the audience, that on the next evening they were going to give the Pipe of Peace-dance, and the Scalp-dance, which he wished all the ladies to see, and that now the chiefs and himself were ready to shake hands with all the people in the room.

This of course brought a rush of visitors to the platform, anxious to welcome the new comers by giving them their hands. A general shake of the hands took place, and a conversation that occupied half an hour or more, and much to the satisfaction of the Indians as well as to those who came to see them.

Much curiosity was kept up yet about the Doctor. The impression that his countenance and his wit had made upon the women had secured a knot of them about him, from whom it was difficult to disengage him: some complained that they were sick, and desired him to feel their pulse; he did so, and being asked as to the nature of their disease, he replied that “they were in love,”—and as to the remedy, he said, “Get husbands, and in a day and a night you will be well.” All this they could have got from other quarters, but coming from an Indian, whose naked shoulders were glistening around the room, it seemed to come with the freshness and zest of something entirely new, and created much merriment.

The amusements of their first night being over, the Indians were withdrawn from the room, and the audience soon dispersed. Daniel, as usual, had been at his post, and his report of a few moments’ chat with the “jolly fat dame” gave me the first intelligence of the awful error I had committed in giving her bracelet to the Doctor instead of the Roman-nose, for whom she had intended it. She had said to him, however, that “it was no matter, and the error must not be corrected; she would bring one on the following evening for the Roman-nose, and begged that the Doctor might never be apprised of the mistake which had resulted to his benefit.” “They are a splendid set of men, Daniel—far superior to the others. It is the greatest treat I ever had—I shall be here every night. You’ll think by and by that I am a pretty good customer; ha, Daniel? That Roman-nose is a magnificent fellow—he’s got no wife, has he, Daniel?” “No, Madam, he is the youngest man of the party.” “He is an elegant fellow—but then his skin, Daniel. Their skins are not so fine as the others—they are too black, or red, or what you call it; but Cadotte! what a beautiful colour he was, ha? But I dare say a little washing and living in a city would bring them nearly white? These people love Mr. Catlin—he’s a curious man—he’s a wonderful man; these are his old acquaintance, he has boarded with them; how they love him, don’t they? Ah, well, good night, good night.” She was the last of the visitors going out of the door, and did not know that I was so close behind her.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Character of the Doctor (mystery or medicine man)—An omnibus drive—The Doctor’s admiration of the “jolly fat dame”—Jealousy—War-dress and war-paint of the Roman-nose—His appearance—He leads the War-dance—The Welcome-dance, and Bear-dance—Description of—Pipe-of-peace (or Calumet) dance, and Scalp-dance—Chip-pe-ho-la (the Author)—Speech of the War-chief—The “jolly fat dame”—She presents a gold bracelet to Roman-nose—Jealousy and distress of the Doctor—She converses with Daniel—Two reverend gentlemen converse with the Indians about religion—Reply of White-cloud and War-chief—Questions by the reverend gentlemen—Answers by the War-chief—Indians invited to breakfast with Mr. Disraeli, M.P., Park Lane—Indians' toilette and dress—The Doctor and Jim (Wash-ka-mon-ya) fasting for the occasion.

On paying a visit to the lodgings of the Indians, after they had returned from the exhibition, I found them in a merry mood, cracking their jokes upon the Doctor, who had put himself forward in so conspicuous a manner, to the great amusement of the ladies. During the exhibition, it would have appeared, from his looks and his actions, that he was to be perfectly happy for a twelvemonth at least; but he now appeared sad and dejected as he listened to their jokes, and turned his splendid bracelet around with his fingers. Several of the women had received brooches and other trinkets of value, and all had been highly pleased.

It seemed that the War-chief was looked upon by the rest of the party as their orator; and, on an occasion like that which had just passed by, it was usual, and was expected, that he would have arisen and made a speech; and it was as little expected that the Doctor, who, they said, was a very diffident and backward man on such occasions, should have had so much, or anything to say. But the Doctor was a man of talent and wit, and with an exorbitant share of vanity and self-conceit, which were excited to that degree by the irresistible smiles of the ladies, that he was nerved with courage and ambition to act the part that he did through the evening. Under the momentary excitement of his feelings, he had, to be sure, but innocently, stepped a little out of his sphere, and in the way of the chiefs, which had somewhat annoyed them at the time, but of which they were now rather making merry than otherwise. The Doctor was a good-natured and harmless man, and entirely the creature of impulse. He was always polite, though not always in good humour. The two leading traits in his character, one or the other of which was always conspicuous, were extreme buoyancy of spirits and good humour, when he smiled upon everybody and everything around him, or silent dejection, which bade defiance to every social effort. In either of these moods he had the peculiarities of being entirely harmless, and of remaining in them but a very short time; and between these moods, he was like a spirit level, exceedingly difficult to hold at a balance.

The jokes that had been concentrated on the Doctor had been rather pleasant and amusing than otherwise, though there had been so many of them from the chiefs, from the warriors, from the squaws, and also from Mr. Melody, and Jeffrey and Daniel, all of whom were laughing at his expense, that I found him, and left him, sitting in one corner of the room, with his robe wrapped around him, in stoic silence, occasionally casting his eyes on his gold bracelet, and then upon the smoking beef-steaks and coffee which were on the table for their suppers, and of which he partook not.

Whilst the rest were at the table, he silently spread his robe upon the floor, and wrapped himself in it. In the morning he washed, as usual, at the dawning of day, spent an hour or so in solitary meditation on the roof of the house, and afterwards joined with a pleasant face at the breakfast table, and through the amusements of the day and evening.

Mr. Melody had, with my cordial approbation, employed an omnibus with four horses, to drive them an hour each day for the benefit of their health; and, at the same time, to amuse and instruct them, by showing them everything that they could see in the civilized world to their advantage. The Doctor joined, in good spirits, in the “drive” of that day; and, as on the day before, was wrapped in his buffalo, and seated by the side of the driver, with the polished blade of his lance glistening above his head, as many Londoners who read this will forcibly recollect.

From their drive, in which they had seen many strange things, they returned in good spirits, and received in their chambers a private party of ladies and gentlemen, my esteemed friends, and several editors of the leading journals of London. A long and very interesting conversation was held with them on several subjects, and the clear and argumentative manner in which their replies were made, and the truly striking and primitive modes in which they were found, at once engaged the profound attention of all, and procured for them, besides some handsome presents at the time, the strongest recommendations from the editors of the press, as subjects of far greater interest than the party of Ojibbeways, whom they had before seen. Amongst these visiters they recognized with great pleasure, and shook hands with, my kind friend Dr. Thomas Hodgkin, at whose hospitable board they had, a few days before, with the author, partaken of an excellent dinner prepared for them. This was the first gentleman’s table they were invited to in the kingdom, and probably the first place where they ever tried the use of the knife and fork in the English style.

Dr. Hodgkin being of the Society of Friends, they received much kind and friendly advice from him, which they never forgot; and from the unusual shape of his dress, they called him afterwards (not being able to recollect his name) Tchon-a-wap-pa (the straight coat).

At night they were in the Hall again, and around them, amidst a greatly increased audience, had the pleasure of beholding nearly all the faces they had seen the night before; and the Doctor, in particular, of seeing the smiling ladies whom he had invited to see the scalp-dance and the scalps, and, to his more identical satisfaction, of beholding, at the end of the platform where he had taken pains to spread his robe and seat himself, the fair dame of gushing charms, to whom he was occasionally gently turning his head on one side and smiling, as he presented to her view his copper-coloured arm, encompassed with the golden bracelet.

This kind lady’s goodness was such that she could not but respond to the bows and the smiles of the Doctor, though (within herself) she felt a little annoyed at the position which he had taken, so immediately between her place, which the crowd prevented her from changing, and that of the splendid “Roman Nose,” who was now much more an object of admiration than he had been the night before, and more peremptorily called for all her attention. He had been selected to lead in the scalp-dance which was to be given that night; and for this purpose, in pursuance of the custom of the country, he had left off his shirt and all his dress save his beautifully garnished leggings and mocassins, and his many-coloured sash and kilt of eagle’s quills and ermine around his waist. His head was vermilioned red, and dressed with his helmet-like red crest, and surmounted with a white and a red eagle’s quill, denoting his readiness for peace or for war. His shoulders and his arms were curiously streaked with red paint, and on his right and his left breast were the impresses, in black paint, of two hands, denoting the two victims he had struck, and whose scalps he then held attached to his painted tomahawk, which he was to wield in triumph as he had in the scalp-dance. Thus arrayed and ornamented, he appeared in his “war dress,” as it is termed; and as he arose from his seat upon the platform, and drew his painted shield and quiver from his back, shouts of applause rung from every part of the hall, and, of course, trepidation increased in the veins of the fair dame, whose elbows were resting on the edge of the platform, while she was in rapture gazing upon him, and but partly concealing at times a beautiful trinket, the sparkling of which the sharp eyes of the Doctor had seen, as she endeavoured to conceal it in her right hand.

The Doctor could not speak to this fair lady except with his eyes, with the softest expressions of which he lost no time or opportunity; and (for several combined reasons, no doubt) he seemed quite unambitious to leave his seat to “saw the air,” and strike for a repetition of the applause he had gained the night before.

Unfortunately in some respects, and as fortunately no doubt in others, the splendid “Roman Nose” held his position at the farther end of the platform during the greater part of the evening; and the Doctor, for the several reasons already imagined, remained in the close vicinity of the fair dame, whose over-timidity, he feared, held her in an unnecessary and painful suspense.

In this position of things and of parties, the amusements allotted for the evening had commenced, and were progressing, amidst the roars of applause that were ready at the close of each dance. They commenced by giving the “Welcome Dance” and song[10] peculiar to their tribe. The sentiment of this being explained by me, gave great pleasure to the audience, and prepared them for the dances and amusements which were to follow.

They next announced the “Bear Dance” and amused the audience very much in its execution. This curious dance is given when a party are preparing to hunt the black bear, for its delicious food; or to contend with the more ferocious and dangerous “grizly bear,” when a similar appeal is made to the bear-spirit, and with similar results, (i.e.) all hands having strictly attended to the important and necessary form of conciliating in this way the good will and protection of the peculiar spirit presiding over the destinies of those animals, they start off upon their hunt with a confidence and prospect of success which they could not otherwise have ventured to count upon. In this grotesque and amusing mode, each dancer imitates with his hands, alternately, the habits of the bear when running, and when sitting up, upon its feet, its paws suspended from its breast.

It was customary with them to be seated a few minutes after each dance, and to pass around the pipe; and in the interval they were thus filling up after this dance, the Indians, as well as the audience, were all surprised at the appearance of a large square parcel handed in, and on to the platform, by a servant in livery, as a present to the Indians from his anonymous mistress. “Curiosity was on tip-toe” to know what so bulky a parcel contained; and when it was opened, it was found to contain 14 beautifully bound Bibles—the number just equal to the number of Indians of the party; and a very kind letter addressed to them, and which was read, exhorting them to change the tenor of their lives, to learn to read, and to profit by the gifts enclosed to them.

The Bibles being distributed amongst them, the War-chief arose, and in the most respectful and appropriate manner returned his thanks for the liberal present and the kind wishes of the lady who gave them; he said he was sorry he did not know which lady to thank, but by thanking all in the room, he considered he was taking the surest way of conveying his thanks to her.

After this, the ne plus ultra (as the Doctor would undoubtedly call it), the frightful “Scalp Dance,”[11] was announced. All parties, the modest squaws (of whom they had four with them) as well as the men, were arranging their dresses and implements to take part in it. The drums struck up, and the “splendid Roman Nose” led off, waving his two scalps on the point of a lance, until he was once around the circle, when they were placed in the hands of a squaw to carry, whilst he wielded his tomahawk and scalping-knife, and showed the manner in which his unfortunate enemies had fallen before him. This was probably the first time that the Scalp Dance, in its original and classic form, was ever seen in the city of London, and embellished by the presence of real and genuine scalps.

This exciting scene, with its associations, had like to have been too much for the nerves and tastes of London people; but having evidently assembled here for the pleasure of receiving shocks and trying their nerves, they soon seemed reconciled, and all looked on with amazement and pleasure, whilst they were sure for once in their lives, at least, that they were drawing information from its true and native source. This dance was long and tedious, but when it was finished, it was followed by a deafening round of applause, not of approbation of the shocking and disgusting custom, but of the earnest and simple manner in which these ignorant and thoughtless people were endeavouring to instruct and to amuse the enlightened world by a strict and emphatic illustration of one of the barbarous, but valued, modes of their country.

The subject and mode of scalping, and of thus celebrating their victories, so little understood in the enlightened world, afforded me an interesting theme for remarks at this time; and when the Indians were again seated and “taking a smoke,” I took the occasion of this complete illustration to explain it in all its parts and meanings, for which, when I had done, I received five times as much applause as I deserved for doing it.

The Pipe of Peace (or Calumet) Dance[12] was the next announced; and was danced with great spirit, and gained them much applause. At the close of this, their favourite dance, it became peculiarly the privilege of the War-chief to make his boast, as the dance is given only at the conclusion of a treaty of peace between hostile tribes, and at which treaty he is supposed to preside. For this purpose he rose, and straightening up his tall and veteran figure, with his buffalo robe thrown over his shoulder and around him, with his right arm extended over the heads of his fellow warriors, made a most animated speech to them for several minutes (with his back turned towards the audience), reminding them of the principal exploits of his military life, with which they were all familiar. He then called upon one of the younger men to light his pipe, which being done, and placed in his hand, he took several deliberate whiffs through its long and ornamented stem; this done, and his ideas all arranged, he deliberately turned around, and passing his pipe into his left hand, extended his right over the heads of the audience and commenced:—

“My Friends,—We believe that all our happiness in this life is given to us by the Great Spirit, and through this pipe I have thanked Him for enabling me to be here at this time, and to speak to you all who are around me. (How, how, how! and applause)

“My Friends,—We have had a long journey, and we are still very much fatigued. We prayed to the Great Spirit, and He has heard our prayers; we are all here, and all well. (How, how, how! and Hear!)

“My Friends,—We are poor and live in the woods, and though the Great Spirit is with us, yet He has not taught us how to weave the beautiful things that you make in this country; we have seen many of those things brought to us, and we are now happy to be where all these fine things are made. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—The Great Spirit has made us with red skins, and taught us how to live in the wilderness, but has not taught us to live as you do. Our dresses are made of skins and are very coarse, but they are warm; and in our dances we are in the habit of showing the skins of our shoulders and our arms, and we hope you will not be angry with us—it is our way. (How, how, how! and great applause.)

“My Friends,—We have heard that your chief is a woman, and we know that she must be a great chief, or your country would not be so rich and so happy. (Cheers and Hear!) We have been told that the Ojibbeways went to see your queen, and that she smiled upon them; this makes us the more anxious to see her face, as the Ojibbeways are our enemies. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—We hope to see the face of your queen, and then we shall be happy. Our friend Chippehola[13] has told us that he thinks we shall see her. My Friends, we do not know whether there are any of her relations now in the room. (How, how, how! and a laugh.)

“My Friends,—We shall be glad to shake your hands. This is all I have to say.” (Great applause.)

At the close of his speech, and as he turned around to meet the approbation of his fellow-warriors, there was a sudden burst of laughter amongst the Indians, occasioned by the sarcastic and exulting manner in which the old Doctor told him he had better say something more before he sat down, “because,” said he, “you have not made half as much laugh yet as I did last night.” “I should be sorry if I had,” said the War-chief; “the audience always laugh the moment they see your ugly face.”

The Doctor’s troubles commenced here, for just at that moment the “fair dame” had caught the eye of the “Roman-nose,” and holding up a beautiful bracelet enclosing a brilliant stone, she tempted him up, while she clasped it upon his arm as it was extended immediately over the Doctor’s head, whose unfailing politeness induced him to bow down his head to facilitate the operation.

When the “Roman-nose” had taken his seat, and the poor Doctor had raised up his head to meet the eyes and the taunts of his fellow-Indians, who were laughing at him, and the gaze of the visitors from every quarter of the room, there was a smile, but altogether a new one, and a new word should be coined for the sudden and singular distress of the dilemma he was in: it would not do to undervalue the beautiful present that was already upon his arm, and to save his life he could not smile as pleasantly upon the fair hand that gave it as he had been smiling a few minutes before. The trinket had instantly fallen fifty per cent. in its value—the brilliant prospect that had been before him had fled, and left him in the dread, not only that his beautiful commercial prospects were blighted, but that he was to have an enemy in the field.

The Roman-nose received his present in a respectful and thankful manner, but it was too late to be affectionately accepted, as it was the second one that was afloat, and taken by him, partly as an evidence of a kind heart, and partly as a foil to cover the true meaning of the first one that had been bestowed. However, he valued it very much, and the secret respecting the mistake that had been made in presenting the first, having been committed only to Daniel and myself, was thought best, for the peace of all parties, not to be divulged.

The amusements of the evening being finished, there commenced a general shake of the hands, and when it had been requested by some of the audience that the Indians should come on to the floor, the request was instantly complied with, which afforded the most gratifying opportunity for the visitors to get near to them, and scan them and their costumes and weapons more closely. There was a general outcry by the ladies for the wife of the Little-wolf to descend from the platform with her little pappoose slung on her back in its splendid cradle, ornamented with porcupine’s quills and ermine skins. It was a beautiful illustration, and formed one of the most attractive features of the exhibition, for gentlemen as well as for ladies, as thousands will recollect.

The “jolly fat dame” had an opportunity of meeting the Roman-nose and of shaking his hand: but, “oh, the distress!” she could not speak to him as she had done to Cadotte,—it was impossible for her to explain to him the abominable mistake of the first night, and she feared he never would properly appreciate the present which she had just made him; nevertheless they were “a noble, fine set of fellows.” The Doctor passed about in the crowd shaking hands, and shaking his fan also, which was made of the eagle’s tail. He met the “fair dame,” and (cruel that he could not speak to her) he dropped many smiles as he looked down upon and over her dimpled cheeks and round neck, as he raised and showed her his brawny arm with the golden bracelet.

The Indians soon withdrew, and after them the crowd; and after the crowd the “jolly fat dame,” who said to Daniel as she passed, “I can’t stop to-night, Daniel, I am in a great hurry; but I gave the bracelet to the Roman-nose—I got a good opportunity, Daniel—I buckled it on myself: oh, yes, I did—that I did—the good fellow, he stood it well—he never stirred. He’ll recollect me, won’t he, Daniel? I am going; but oh, look here—I can’t, to save my life, make the poor fellow understand how the accident took place—it is so provoking!—it’s awkward—it is very annoying to me. You can tell him, Daniel—I wish you would tell him—I want you to explain it to him. Come, will you, Daniel? that’s a good fellow. Tell him I never intended to give a bracelet to the old Doctor. But stop, he won’t tell the Doctor that, will he? I wouldn’t for the world hurt the poor old man’s feelings—no, Daniel, not for twenty bracelets—what shall we do?” “Oh, there is no danger, Madam, that the Doctor will ever hear of it.” “You think so?” “Oh, I am sure, Madam.” “Then it’s all right—good night. I shall be here every night, you know.”

The next morning after this, the Rev. Mr. —— and Mr. —— called upon me at my family residence, to ask if it would be consistent with my views and the views of the Indians for them to have some conversation with them in private on the subject of religion and education. I replied, that it was one of the greatest satisfactions I could have during their stay in England, to promote as far as in my power such well-meant efforts to enlighten their minds, and to enable them to benefit in that way by their visit to this country. I told them also, that I was very glad to say that this party was under the charge of Mr. Melody, a man who was high in the confidence of the American Government, and that I knew him to be a temperate and moral man: as he was interested in the missionary efforts being made in this very tribe, I felt quite certain that he would do all in his power to promote their object, and they had better call on him. They did so, and an appointment was made for them to visit the Indians in the afternoon, subsequent to their usual daily “drive.”

Mr. Melody had had a conversation with the Indians on the subject, and although they felt some reluctance at first, on account of the little time they would have to reflect upon it, they had agreed to see the reverend gentlemen in the afternoon, and I was sent for to be present. I was there at the time, and when the reverend gentlemen called, I introduced them to the Indians in their rooms. The Indians were all seated on the floor, upon their robes and blankets, and passing around the pipe. After the usual time taken by strangers to examine their curious dresses, weapons, &c., one of the reverend gentlemen mentioned to the chiefs, in a very kind and friendly manner, the objects of their visit, and with their permission gave them a brief account of the life and death of our Saviour, and explained as well as he could to their simple minds the mode of Redemption. He urged upon them the necessity of their taking up this belief, and though it might be difficult for them to understand at first, yet he was sure it was the only way to salvation. This gentleman took full time to explain his views to them, which was done in the most suitable language for their understanding, and every sentence was carefully and correctly interpreted to them by Jeffrey, who seemed to be himself much interested in hearing his remarks.

After the reverend gentleman had finished, Mr. Melody stated to the Indians that he believed all that the gentleman said was true, and that he knew it to be worth their closest and most patient consideration. He then asked White-cloud if he had anything to answer; to which he said, “he had but a few words to say, as he did not feel very well, and Neu-mon-ya (the War-chief) was going to speak for him.” He thought, however, that it was a subject which they might as well omit until they got home.

Neu-mon-ya during this time was hanging his head quite down, and puffing the smoke as fast as he could draw it through his pipe, in long breaths, and discharging it through his nostrils. He raised up after a moment more of pause, and passing the pipe into White-cloud’s hand, folded his arms, with his elbows on his knees, when he drew a deep sigh, and followed it with the last discharge of smoke from his lungs, which was now passing in two white streams through his distended nostrils, as he said—

“My friends,[14]—The Great Spirit has sent you to us with kind words, and he has opened our ears to hear them, which we have done. We are glad to see you and to hear you speak, for we know that you are our friends. What you have said relative to our learning to read and to write, we are sure can do us no good—we are now too old; but for our children, we think it would be well for them to learn; and they are now going to schools in our village, and learning to read and to write. As to the white man’s religion which you have explained, we have heard it told to us in the same way, many times, in our own country, and there are white men and women there now, trying to teach it to our people. We do not think your religion good, unless it is so for white people, and this we don’t doubt. The Great Spirit has made our skins red, and the forests for us to live in. He has also given us our religion, which has taken our fathers to ’the beautiful hunting grounds,' where we wish to meet them. We don’t believe that the Great Spirit made us to live with pale faces in this world, and we think He has intended we should live separate in the world to come.

“My friends,—We know that when white men come into our country we are unhappy—the Indians all die, or are driven away before the white men. Our hope is to enjoy our hunting grounds in the world to come, which white men cannot take from us: we know that our fathers and our mothers have gone there, and we don’t know why we should not go there too.

“My friends,—You have told us that the Son of the Great Spirit was on earth, and that he was killed by white men, and that the Great Spirit sent him here to get killed; now we cannot understand all this—this may be necessary for white people, but the red men, we think, have not yet got to be so wicked as to require that. If it was necessary that the Son of the Great Spirit should be killed for white people, it may be necessary for them to believe all this; but for us, we cannot understand it.”

He here asked for the pipe, and having drawn a few whiffs, proceeded.

“My friends,—You speak of the ‘good book’ that you have in your hand; we have many of these in our village; we are told that ‘all your words about the Son of the Great Spirit are printed in that book, and if we learn to read it, it will make good people of us.’ I would now ask why it don’t make good people of the pale faces living all around us? They can all read the good book, and they can understand all that the 'black coats'[15] say, and still we find they are not so honest and so good a people as ours: this we are sure of; such is the case in the country about us, but here we have no doubt but the white people who have so many to preach and so many books to read, are all honest and good. In our country the white people have two faces, and their tongues branch in different ways; we know that this displeases the Great Spirit, and we do not wish to teach it to our children.”

He here took the pipe again, and while smoking, the reverend gentleman asked him if he thought the Indians did all to serve the Great Spirit that they ought to do—all that the Great Spirit required of them? to which he replied—

“My friends,—I don’t know that we do all that the Great Spirit wishes us to do; there are some Indians, I know, who do not; there are some bad Indians as well as bad white people; I think it is very difficult to tell how much the Great Spirit wishes us to do.”

The reverend gentleman said—

“That, my friends, is what we wish to teach you; and if you can learn to read this good book, it will explain all that.”

The chief continued—

“We believe the Great Spirit requires us to pray to Him, which we do, and to thank Him for everything we have that is good. We know that He requires us to speak the truth, to feed the poor, and to love our friends. We don’t know of anything more that he demands; he may demand more of white people, but we don’t know that.”

The reverend gentleman inquired—

“Do you not think that the Great Spirit sometimes punishes the Indians in this world for their sins?”

War-chief.—“Yes, we do believe so.”

Rev. Gentleman.—“Did it ever occur to you, that the small pox that swept off half of your tribe, and other tribes around you, a few years ago, might have been sent into your country by the Great Spirit to punish the Indians for their wickedness and their resistance to his word?”

War-chief.—“My Friends, we don’t know that we have ever resisted the word of the Great Spirit. If the Great Spirit sent the small pox into our country to destroy us, we believe it was to punish us for listening to the false promises of white men. It is white man’s disease, and no doubt it was sent amongst white people to punish them for their sins. It never came amongst the Indians until we began to listen to the promises of white men, and to follow their ways; it then came amongst us, and we are not sure but the Great Spirit then sent it to punish us for our foolishness. There is another disease sent by the Great Spirit to punish white men, and it punishes them in the right place—the place that offends. We know that disease has been sent to punish them; that disease was never amongst the Indians until white men came—they brought it, and we believe we shall never drive it out of our country.”

The War-chief here reached for the pipe again for a minute, and then continued—

“My Friends,—I hope my talk does not offend you; we are children, and you will forgive us for our ignorance. The Great Spirit expects us to feed the poor; our wives and children at home are very poor; wicked white men kill so many of our hunters and warriors with fire-water, that they bring among us, and leave so many children among us for us to feed, when they go away, that it makes us very poor. Before they leave our country they destroy all the game also, and do not teach us to raise bread, and our nation is now in that way, and very poor; and we think that the way we can please the Great Spirit first, is to get our wives and children something to eat, and clothes to wear. It is for that we have come to this country, and still we are glad to hear your counsel, for it is good.”

The reverend gentlemen, and several ladies who had accompanied them, here bestowed some very beautiful Bibles and other useful presents upon the Indians; and thanking them for their patience, were about to take leave of them, when Mr. Melody begged their attention for a few moments while he read to them several letters just received from reverend gentlemen conducting a missionary school in this tribe, giving a flattering account of its progress, and presented them a vocabulary and grammar, already printed in the Ioway language, by a printing-press belonging to the missionary school in their country. This surprised them very much, and seemed to afford them great satisfaction.

The comments of the press, as well as the remarks of the public who had seen them, now being made upon the superior interest of this party, they were receiving daily calls from distinguished persons, and also numerous invitations to gentlemen’s houses, which daily increased their consequence, and, of course, their enjoyment. Amongst the first of these kind invitations was one from Mr. Disraeli, M.P., for the whole party to partake of a breakfast at his house, in Park Lane.

This was for the next morning after the interview just described; and, not knowing or even being able to imagine what they were to see, or what sort of rules or etiquette they were to be subjected to, they were under the most restless excitement to prepare everything for it, and the greatest anxiety for the hour to approach. They were all up at an unusually early hour, preparing every trinket and every article of dress, and spent at least an hour at their toilets in putting the paint upon their faces. The Doctor had been told that he would sit down at the table amongst many very splendid ladies; and this, or some other embarrassment, had caused him to be dissatisfied with the appearance of the paint which he had put upon his face, and which he was carefully examining with his little looking-glass. He decided that it would not do, and some bear’s grease and a piece of deer-skin soon removed it all. He spent another half hour with his different tints, carefully laying them on with the end of his forefinger; and, displeased again, they were all demolished as before. Alarm about time now vexed him, and caused him to plaster with a more rapid and consequently with a more “masterly touch.” The effect was fine! He was ready, and so were all the party, from head to foot. All their finest was on, and all were prepared for the move, when I came in at about eight o’clock to advise them of the hour at which we were to go, and which I had forgotten to mention to them the evening before. I then referred to the note of invitation, and informed them that the hour appointed was twelve o’clock. The whole party, who were at that time upon their feet around me, wrapped in their robes, their shields and quivers slung, and the choice tints upon their faces almost too carefully arranged to be exposed to the breath of the dilapidating wind, expressed a decided shock when the hour of twelve was mentioned. They smiled, and evidently thought it strange, and that some mistake had been made. Their conjectures were many and curious: some thought it was dinner that was meant, instead of breakfast; and others thought so late an hour was fixed that they might get their own breakfasts out of the way, and then give the Indians theirs by themselves. I answered, “No, my good fellows, it is just the reverse of this; you are all wrong—it is to breakfast that you are invited, and lest their family, and their friends whom they have invited to meet you, should not have the honour of sitting down and eating with you, they have fixed the hour at twelve o’clock, the time that the great and fashionable people take their breakfasts. You must have your breakfasts at home at the usual hour, and take your usual drive before you go; so you will have plenty of time for all, and be in good humour when you go there, where you will see many fine ladies and be made very happy.”

My remarks opened a new batch of difficulties to them that I had not apprehended, some of which were exceedingly embarrassing. To wait four hours, and to eat and to ride in the meantime, would be to derange the streaks of paint and also to soil many articles of dress which could not be put on excepting on very particular occasions. To take them off and put them on, and to go through the vexations of the toilet again, at eleven o’clock, was what several of the party could submit to, and others could not. As to the breakfast of huge beefsteaks and coffee which was just coming up, I had felt no apprehensions; but when it was on the table I learned that the old Doctor and Wash-ka-mon-ya and one or two others of the young men were adhering to a custom of their country, and which, in my rusticity (having been seven or eight years out of Indian life), I had at the moment lost sight of.

It is the habit in their country, when an Indian is invited to a feast, to go as hungry as he can, so as to be as fashionable as possible, by eating an enormous quantity, and for this purpose the invitations are generally extended some time beforehand, paying the valued compliment to the invited guest of allowing as much time as he can possibly require for starving himself and preparing his stomach by tonics taken in bitter decoctions of medicinal herbs. In this case the invitation had only been received the day before, and of course allowed them much less than the usual time to prepare to be fashionable. They had, however, received the information just in time for the Doctor and Wash-ka-mon-ya and the Roman-nose to avoid the annoyance of their dinners and suppers on that day, and they had now laid themselves aside in further preparation for the feast in which they were to be candidates for the mastery in emptying plates and handling the “knife and fork” (or “knife and fingers”), the custom of their country.

In this condition the Doctor particularly was a subject for the freshest amusement, or for the profoundest contemplation. With all his finery and his trinkets on, and his red and yellow paint—with his shield, and bow and quiver lying by his side, he was straightened upon his back, with his feet crossed, as he rested in a corner of the room upon his buffalo robe, which was spread upon the floor. His little looking glass, which was always suspended from his belt, he was holding in his hand, as he was still arranging his beautiful feathers, and contemplating the patches of red and yellow paint, and the tout ensemble of the pigments and copper colour with which he was to make a sensation where he was going to feast (as he had been told) with ladies, an occurrence not known in the annals of the Indian country. He had resolved, on hearing the hour was twelve, not to eat his breakfast (which he said might do for women and children), or to take his usual ride in the bus, that he might not injure his growing appetite, or disturb a line of paint or a feather, until the hour had arrived for the honours and the luxuries that awaited them.

I reasoned awhile with these three epicures of the land of “buffaloes’ tongues and beavers’ tails,” telling them that they were labouring under a misconception of the ideas of gentility as entertained in the civilized and fashionable world; that in London, the genteel people practised entirely the opposite mode from theirs; that light dinners and light breakfasts were all the fashion, and the less a lady or gentleman could be seen eating, the more sentimental he or she was considered, and consequently the more transcendently genteel: and that when they went to breakfast with their friends at 12, or to dine at 7 or 8, they were generally in the habit of promoting gentility by eating a little at home before they started.

My reasoning, however, had no other effect than to excite a smile from the Doctor, and the very philosophic reply, “that they should prefer to adhere to their own custom until they got to the lady’s house, when they would try to conform to that of the white people of London.” The drollness of these remarks from this droll old gentleman entirely prevented Mr. Melody and myself from intruding any further suggestions, until the hour arrived, and it was announced that the carriage was at the door.

CHAPTER XIX.

Kind reception at Mr. Disraeli’s—View of Hyde Park from the top of his house—Review of troops, and sham fight—Breakfast-table—The Doctor missing—The Author finds him in the bathing-room—Champagne wine—Refused by the Indians—Chickabobboo: Chippehola tells the story of it—The Indians drink—Presents—The “big looking-glass”—The Doctor smiles in it—Speech of the War-chief—Shake of hands, and return—Exhibition-room, Egyptian Hall—Doctor presents a string of wampum and the “White-feather” to the “jolly fat dame”—Indians talk about chickabobboo—The Rev. Mr. G—— calls—A different religion (a Catholic)—Interview appointed—Two Methodist clergymen call—Indians refuse to see them—The giant and giantess visit the Indians—The Doctor measuring the giantess—The talk with the Catholic clergyman.

This chapter begins with the introduction of the Ioways into fashionable life, through the various phases of which they had the good or bad fortune to pass, in this and other countries, as will be seen, before they returned to resume the tomahawk and scalping-knife in their favourite prairies, and the Rocky Mountains in America.

Mr. Melody and myself accompanied the Indians, and all together were put down at the door, where we met a host of waiters in livery, ready to conduct us to the kind lady and gentleman, whom they instantly recollected to have seen and shaken hands with in the exhibition room. This gave them confidence, and all parties were made easy in a moment, by a general introduction which followed. Through the interpreter, the ladies complimented them for their dances and songs, which they had heard, and pronounced to be very wonderful. Their women and little children were kindly treated by the ladies, and seats were prepared for them to sit down. The men were also desired to be seated, but on looking around the room, upon the richness of its furniture, the splendid carpet on which they stood, and the crimson velvet of the cushioned chairs that were behind them, they smiled, and seemed reluctant to sit upon them, for fear of soiling them. They were at length prevailed upon to be seated, however, and after a little conversation, were conducted by Mr. Disraeli through the different apartments of his house, where he put in their hands, and explained to them, much to their gratification, many curious daggers, sabres, and other weapons and curiosities of antiquity. In passing through the dining saloon, they passed the table, groaning under the weight of its costly plate and the luxuries which were prepared for them; upon this the old Doctor smiled as he passed along, and he even turned his head to smile again upon it, as he left it.

After we had surveyed all below, the party were invited to the top of the house, and Mr. Disraeli led the way. The ladies, of whom there were a goodly number, all followed; and altogether, the pictured buffalo robes—the rouged heads and red feathers—the gaudy silks, and bonnets, and ribbons—glistening lances and tomahawks—and black coats, formed a novel group for the gaze of the multitude who were gathering from all directions, under the ever exciting cry of “Indians! Indians!”

Hyde Park was under our eye, and from our position we had the most lovely view of it that any point could afford; and also of the drilling of troops, and the sham-fight in the park, which was going on under our full view. This was exceedingly exciting and amusing to the Indians, and also the extensive look we had in turning our eyes in the other direction, over the city. The ladies had now descended, and we all followed to the saloon, where it was soon announced that the breakfast was ready; and in a few moments all were seated at the table, excepting the Doctor, who was not to be found. Jeffrey and I instantly thought of his “propensity” and went to the house-top for him, but to our amazement he was not there. In descending the stairs, however, and observing a smoke issuing out of one of the chambers, into which we had been led, on going up to examine the beautiful arrangement for vapour and shower baths, we stepped in, and found the Doctor seated in the middle of the room, where he had lit his pipe, and was taking a more deliberate look at this ingenious contrivance, which he told us pleased him very much, and which he has often said he thought would be a good mode to adopt in his practice in his own country. He was easily moved, however, when it was announced to him that the breakfast was on the table and ready, where he was soon seated in the chair reserved for him.

Great pains were taken by the ladies and gentlemen to help the Indians to the luxuries they might like best; and amongst others that were offered, their glasses were filled with sparkling champagne, in which their health was proposed. The poor fellows looked at it, and shaking their heads, declined it. This created some surprise, upon which Mr. Melody explained for them that they had pledged their words not to drink spirituous liquors while in this country. They were applauded by all the party for it, and at the same time it was urged that this was only a light wine, and could not hurt them: we were drinking it ourselves, and the ladies were drinking it, and it seemed cruel to deny them. Poor Melody!—he looked distressed: he had a good heart, and loved his Indians, but he felt afraid of the results. The Doctor and Wash-ka-mon-ya kept their hands upon their glasses, and their eyes upon Melody and myself, evidently understanding something of the debate that was going on, until it was agreed and carried, by the ladies and all, that taking a little champagne would not be a breach of their promise in the least, and that it would do them no harm. Their health and success were then proposed, and all their glasses were drained to the bottom at once.

The Doctor, after finding the bottom of his glass, turned round, and smacking his lips, dropped me a bow and a smile, seeming to say that “he was thankful, and that the wine was very good.”

I told them that this was not “fire-water” as they could themselves judge, but that it was “chickabobboo.” This word seeming to them to be an Indian word, excited their curiosity somewhat, and being called upon by the ladies to explain the meaning of it, as they did not recollect to have met such a word in Johnson’s Dictionary or elsewhere, I related to them the story of chickabobboo, as told by the war-chief of the Ojibbeways, at Windsor Castle; and the manner in which those Indians partook of the Queen’s wine, or “chickabobboo” as they called it, on that occasion.

This explanation afforded much amusement to the party, and to the Indians also, as Jeffrey interpreted it to them; and it was soon proposed that their glasses should be filled again with chickabobboo. The Doctor sat next to me at the table, and every time he emptied his glass of chickabobboo I was amused to hear him pronounce the word “good!”—the first word of English he had learned, and the first occasion on which I had heard him sound it. After the wine was first poured out, he had kept one hand around his glass or by the side of it, and had entirely stopped eating. He had minced but a little in the outset, and seeming to have a delicate stomach, was giving great pain to the ladies who were helping him and urging him to eat, in his irrevocable resolution to be genteel, as he had before suggested, and which they probably never understood.

The last dish that was passed around the table, and relished by the Indians quite as much as the chickabobboo, was a plate of trinkets of various kinds, of brooches, bracelets, chains, and other ornaments for their persons, which they received with expressions of great thankfulness as they were rising from the table. Thus ended the “feast,” as they called it; and on entering the drawing-room the Doctor became a source of much amusement to the ladies, as his attention was arrested by the enormous size of a mirror that was before him, or by the striking effect of his own beautiful person, which he saw at full length in it. He affected to look only at the frame, as the ladies accused him of vanity; and he drew out from under his belt his little looking-glass, about an inch square, imbedded in a block of deal to protect it from breaking. The contrast was striking and amusing, but what followed was still more so. The ladies were anxious to examine his looking-glass (which was fastened to his person with a leathern thong), and in pulling it out, there necessarily came out with it, attached to the same thong, a little wallet carefully rolled up in a rattle-snake’s skin; and which, on inquiry, was found to be his toilet of pigments of various colours, with which he painted his face. A small pair of scissors also formed a necessary appendage, and by the side of them hung a boar’s tusk and a human finger shrivelled and dried. This he had taken from a victim he had slain in battle, and now wore as his “medicine,” or talismanic charm, that was to guard and protect him in all times of trouble or danger. This remarkable trophy was generally, on occasions when he was in full dress, suspended from his neck by a cord, and hung amongst the strings of wampum on his breast; but on this occasion he had so many other things to think of, that he had forgotten to display it there.

The War-chief at this time preparing his mind to make some remarks before leaving, and to thank the lady for her kindness, was asking “if he should give any offence by lighting his pipe;” to which they all answered at once, “No, oh no! we shall be glad to see the old chief smoke; get him some fire immediately.” When the fire arrived, he had lighted his pipe with his flint and steel, and was arranging his ideas as he was drawing the smoke through its long stem. It amused the ladies very much to see him smoke, and when he was ready he passed the pipe into White Cloud’s hand, and rising, and throwing his head and his shoulders back, he said to the lady that “he was authorized by the chief to return to her and her husband his thanks, and the thanks of all the party, for the kindness they had shown them.” He said they were strangers in the country, and a great way from home, and this would make them more thankful for the kindness they had met this day.

“My Friends (said he), the Great Spirit has caused your hearts to be thus kind to us, and we hope the Great Spirit will not allow us to forget it. We are thankful to all your friends whom we see around you also, and we hope the Great Spirit will be kind to you all.

“My friend the chief wishes to shake hands with you all, and then we will bid you farewell.”

The kindest wishes were expressed, in reply to the old man’s remarks, for their health and happiness; and after a general shaking of hands we took leave, and our omnibus, for St. James’s Street.

The usual dinner hour of the Indians was just at hand when they returned, which was a joyful occurrence for the Doctor, who had, at some inconvenience, been endeavouring to practise Indian and civilized gentility at one and the same time. He smiled when dinner came on, and others smiled to see him endeavouring to mend the breach that had been made.

The excitements of this day had put the Indians in remarkably good humour for their evening’s amusements at the Hall, which they gave to a crowded house, and, as usual, with great applause. The “jolly fat dame” was there as she had promised, still admiring, and still “quite miserable that she could not speak to them in their own language, or something that they could understand.” Daniel had taken a private opportunity to tell the Doctor the whole story of her attachment to Cadotte, and to assure him, at the same time, of her extraordinary admiration of him, the evidence of which was, that “she had made him the first present, after which all others were mere foils.” The Doctor took a peculiar liking to Daniel from that moment, and little else than a lasting friendship could be expected to flow from such a foundation as was then so kindly laid. This most welcome information had been communicated to the Doctor’s ear on the evening previous, and he had now come prepared to present her (with his own hand, and the most gracious smile, and at the end of the platform) a string of wampum from his own neck, and a white feather with two spots of red painted on it, to which he pointed with great energy, and some expression that she heard, but did not understand. The “fair dame” held her exciting present in her hand during the evening, with some little occasional trepidation, expecting to draw from Daniel some key to the meaning of the mysterious gift as she was leaving the rooms. This hope proved vain, however; for Daniel, it seems, was not yet deep enough in Indian mysteries to answer her question, and she carried the present home, with its mysterious meaning, to ruminate upon until the riddle could be solved.

Mr. Melody and I visited the Indians in their apartments that evening after their exhibition was over, and taking a beefsteak and a cup of coffee with them, we found them still in high glee, and in good humour for gossip, which ran chiefly upon the immense looking-glasses they had seen (and “forgot to measure”), and the chickabobboo, which they pronounced to be first-rate for a grand feast, which it would be their duty to get up in a few days to thank the Great Spirit for leading them all safe over the ocean, and to ensure their safe return when they should be ready to go. I then told them of the kind of chickabobboo that the Ojibbeways liked very much, and of which I had allowed each one glass every day at his dinner, and also at night after their dances were done, and which the physicians thought would be much better for them than the strong coffee they were in the habit of drinking; that I had talked with Mr. Melody on the subject, and he was quite willing, with me, that they should have it in the same way, provided they liked it.

“How, how, how!” they all responded; and while the servant was gone for a jug of ale, I explained to them that we did not consider that this was breaking their solemn promise made to us, “not to drink spirituous liquors.” I stated to them, also, that it was possible to get drunk by drinking chickabobboo; and if any of them drank so much of it as to produce that effect, we should consider it the same as if they had got drunk by drinking whiskey.

The ale came in foaming, and being passed round, they all decided that “it was good, but not quite so good as that the kind lady gave us at the feast to-day.”

These evening gossips with these good-natured fellows in their own rooms, after their day’s work and excitements were over, became extremely pleasing to me; so completely reviving the by-gone pleasures I had felt in whiling away the long evenings in their hospitable wigwams, when I was a guest in their remote country, amused with their never-ending fund of anecdotes and stories.

On the next morning, or the day after, at an early hour, Daniel announced to the Indians that there was a reverend gentleman in the sitting-room who wished to see them a little while, and to have some talk with them if possible. Daniel had taken this liberty, as he had heard Mr. Melody and myself say that we should feel disposed to promote, as far as we could, all such efforts. The Indians had not yet had their breakfasts, which were nearly ready, and felt a little annoyed; the War-chief observing “that they had had a long council with some clergymen, and had said to them all they had to say, and thought this gentleman had better go and see and talk with them; and another thing, as he believed that Chippehola[16] had written in a book all that he and the clergymen had said, he thought he might learn it all by going to him.”

Daniel whispered to him, in an earnest manner, that “this was a Catholic priest, a different kind of religion altogether.” This created some little surprise and conversation around the room, that the white people should have two kinds of religion; and it was at last agreed that the War-chief and Jeffrey should step into the other room a few minutes and see him, the White Cloud saying “he did not care about going in.”

It seems that Jeffrey took some interest in this gentleman, as the little that his ancestors had learned of religion had been taught them by Roman Catholic clergymen, who have been the first to teach the Christian religion in most parts of the American wilderness. The conversation and manner of the priest also made some impression on the mind of the War-chief; and as they heard the others using their knives and forks in the adjoining room, they took leave of the reverend gentleman, agreeing to a council with him and a number of his friends in a few days. White Cloud and Wash-ka-mon-ya excited much laughter and amusement amongst the party, on learning that the War-chief had appointed another council, “when he was to make his talk all over again.” They told him “they expected to take him home a preacher, to preach white man’s religion when he got back;” and they thought he had better get a “black coat” at once, and be called “Black-coat to the party of Ioway Indians.”

The next day after the above interview, Daniel again announced to the chiefs and Jeffrey that there were two reverend gentlemen waiting to see them, who had seen Mr. Melody on the subject, and were to meet him there at that hour. White Cloud told the War-chief, that “as he had promised to meet them, he must do it; but as for himself, he would rather not see them, for he was not well.” Wash-ka-mon-ya laughed at the old chief and Jeffrey as they went out. “Now,” said he, “for your grand council!” The War-chief lit his long pipe, and he and Jeffrey entered the room; but finding they were not the persons whom they were expecting to meet, they had a few words of conversation with them, taking care not to approach near to the subject of religion, and left them, as they had some other engagements that took up their time.

There was much merriment going on in the meantime in the Indians’ room, and many jokes ready for the War-chief and Jeffrey when they should get back, as Daniel had returned to their room, and told them that, by the cut of their clothes and their manners, he was quite sure that these two gentlemen were of a different religion still; he believed they were Methodist preachers.

The War-chief, who was always dignified and contemplative in his manners, and yet susceptible of good humour and jokes, returned to the Indians’ room at this time, apparently quite insensible to the mirth and the remarks around him, as he learned from the Indians, and got the confirmation from Daniel, that this was the third kind of religion, and that there were the Baptists, the Jews, and several other kinds yet to come. He seated himself on his robe, which he spread upon the floor, and taking out of his pouch his flint and steel, and spunk, struck a light in the true Indian way (though there was fire within reach of his arm), and, lighting his pipe, commenced smoking. During this silent operation he seemed downcast, and in profound meditation. Mr. Melody and I entered the room at this moment, but seeing the mood he was in, did nothing to interrupt the train of his thoughts. When his pipe was smoked out, he charged it again with tobacco, but before lighting it he laid it aside, and straightening his long limbs upon the floor, and drawing another buffalo robe over his body and his head, he went to sleep.[17]

N^o. 11.

This was the day for “seeing the Giants,” and they were soon after announced as having arrived, according to appointment. During one of the Indians’ exhibitions there had been a great excitement produced amongst them by the appearance in the crowd, of two immense persons, a man and a woman, who stood nearly the whole length of their bodies above the heads of others about them! This had excited the amazement of the Indians so much, that for a while they stopped their dances, to sit down and smoke a pipe. They must necessarily make some sacrifice on such an occasion, and it was decided to be done with a piece of tobacco, which being duly consecrated by them, was carried by the Doctor (the medicine man) to an adjoining room, and burned in the fire.

There were no questions asked by the Indians about these unaccountable people, where they came from, &c., but they wished me to invite them to call at their lodgings at No. 7, St. James’s-street, the next day at twelve o’clock, where they would be glad to see them a little while. This wish was communicated to them in a note which I wrote on my knee, and was passed to them over the heads of the audience; the giant man read it, and smiling, nodded his head, accepting of their invitation. This pleased the Indians, who all joined in sounding the war-whoop. These two extraordinary personages proved to be the well-known “Norfolk giants,” who were brother and sister, and walking “arm-in-arm,” so high that the eye of an ordinary man was just on a level with the apron string of the fair damsel; and the waist of the brother was, of course, yet some inches higher. I regret that I have not preserved the exact elevation of these two extraordinary persons, which I took pains to procure, but have somehow mislaid.

The invitation thus given brought them on their present visit to the Indians, who had great satisfaction in shaking their hands, and closely inspecting them: and not many minutes after their arrival a scene ensued that would have made a sick man laugh, or a rich subject for the pencil of Hogarth. The Indians had sent Daniel for a ball of twine, which they had unfolded upon the floor, and each one having cut off a piece of sufficient length, was taking for himself the measure of the “giant man,” from head to foot—from hand to hand, his arms extended—the span of his waist—his breast and his legs—the length of his feet, and his fingers; and tying knots in their cords to indicate each proportion. In the midst of all this, the Doctor presented the most queer and laughable point in the picture, as he had been applying his string to the back of the fair damsel, having taken her length, from the top of her head to the floor, and tied a knot in his cord at the place where the waist of her dress intersected it; he had then arrested the attention of all, and presented his singular dilemma, when he stood with both ends of his cord in his hands, contemplating the enormous waist and other proportions before him, which he coveted for other knots on his string, but which his strict notions of gallantry were evidently raising objections to his taking. I whispered to him, and relieved him from his distressing state of uncertainty, by saying I thought he had been particular enough, and he withdrew, but with a sigh of evident regret.

They insisted on the giant and giantess receiving from them some little keepsakes of trinkets, &c., as evidences of the pleasure they had afforded them by calling on them.

This extraordinary occurrence, like most others of an exciting or interesting nature which these jovial and funny fellows met with, made subject for much subsequent anecdote and amusement. Wash-ka-mon-ya (the fast dancer), a big-mouthed and waggish sort of fellow (who for brevity’s sake was called, in English parlance, “Jim”), was continually teasing the Doctor about his gallantry amongst the ladies; and could rather easily and coolly do it, as he was a married man, and had his wife constantly by the side of him. He had naturally an abundant stock of wit and good humour, and being so much of a wag withal, he was rather a painful companion for the Doctor all the way, and was frequently passing jokes of a cruel as well as of a light and amusing kind upon him. It was known to the whole party that there was no record kept of the length and breadth of the giant lady, except the one that the Doctor had taken, and carefully rolled up and put away in a little box, amongst other precious things, at the head of his bed, and which he generally used as his pillow. It was known also that much stress would be laid upon this in his own country, when they returned home, as something which the rest of the party could not produce, and which for him, therefore, would be of great and peculiar interest there, and probably on other occasions, when it might be proper to refer to it as a thing he could swear to as a subject of interest in this country. Jim’s best jokes (like most Indian jokes) were those which no one else takes a share in; and a piece of the twine that had caught his eye as it was lying upon the floor, probably first suggested the wicked idea of being cut about two feet longer than the Doctor’s measure of the fair giantess, and with a knot about one foot higher than the one made for her waist, and of being rolled up in the same way, and slipped (in place of the other) into the same corner of the box, to which the Doctor had a key, but, according to all Indian practice, he never made use of it. The sequel to all this, and the fun it might have subsequently made for “Jim,” with his “big mouth,” the reader may as well imagine here, or patiently wait till we come to it.

In the afternoon the Catholic clergyman called with a couple of friends, for the interview which Jeffrey and the War-chief had promised. Mr. Melody sent me word when they called, and I came to the meeting, having taken a great interest in these interviews, which were eliciting opinions from the Indians which are exceedingly difficult to obtain in any other way, and which I was careful on all occasions to write down, as translated at the time. These opinions, however unimportant they may seem to be, I am sure many of my readers will find to be of curious interest; and I fully believe, if rightly appreciated, of much importance in directing future efforts to the right points in endeavouring to impress upon these ignorant and benighted people the importance of education, and a knowledge of the true Christian religion.

On this occasion Wash-ka-mon-ya (or “Jim” as I shall often call him) endeavoured to make himself conspicuous by teasing the War-chief and Jeffrey about “going to pray with the black-coats,” and springing upon his feet, took his tomahawk in his hand, and throwing off his robe, jumped to the middle of the floor, where, naked down to the hips, he landed, in an attitude not unlike that of the colossal statue of Rhodes. He frowned a moment upon all around him, and then said, “Let me go in—I have said nothing yet; I want to make a speech to the black-coats.”

White-cloud, who was at that moment taking up his robe to accompany Jeffrey and the War-chief to the “talk,” very mildly said to Jim, that “he would look much more respectful if he would sit down again and hold his tongue, for these were very good people who were calling to talk with them, and must be treated with respect, however their opinions might differ from those of the Indians.” This severe rebuke from the chief instantly silenced Jim, who quietly and respectfully joined the rest of the party, at White-cloud’s request, who seated themselves in the room where the talk was to be held. The pipe was lit and passing around, while one of the reverend gentlemen stated the views with which they had come to visit them, and asked the Indians if it was perfectly convenient and agreeable for them to hear what they had to say, to which the chief replied in the affirmative. The reverend gentleman then proceeded with his remarks upon the importance of education and religion, the nature of which the reader can easily imagine, and save the time it would require to record them here. To these the chiefs and all the party (excepting Jim and the Doctor, who had fallen asleep) listened with patience and profound silence, as the pipe was passing around. The reverend gentleman having finished, the War-chief took a few deep-drawn breaths through the pipe, and passing it along, said—

“My Friends,—I speak for the chief who is here, and not very well. My words are his words, and the words of all our party. We have heard what you had to say, because we had promised to do so.

“My Friends,—We have talked many times on this subject, and some of our talks have been long; but at this time our words will be few, for we are weary, and as we have before said, we are poor, and our wives and children are hungry, and we have come over here to try to make some money to get them warm clothes and food to eat. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—Many of our children are now in schools in our country, and the ‘good book’ which is in your hands is in their hands at this time. We believe that the Great Spirit has made our religion good and sufficient for us if we do not in any way offend him. We see the religion of the white people dividing into many paths, and we cannot believe that it is pleasing to the Great Spirit. The Indians have but one road in their religion, and they all travel in that, and the Great Spirit has never told them that it was not right.

“My Friends,—Our ears have been open since we came here, and the words we have heard are friendly and good; but we see so many kinds of religion, and so many people drunk and begging when we ride in the streets, that we are a little more afraid of white man’s religion than we were before we came here.

“My Friends,—The Indians occupied all the fine hunting grounds long before the white men came to them, but the white men own them nearly all now, and the Indians’ hunting grounds are mostly all gone. The Indians never urge white men to take up their religion, they are satisfied to have them take a different road, for the Indians wish to enjoy their hunting grounds to themselves in the world to come. (How, how, how!)

“My Friends,—We thank you, and shall wish the Great Spirit may be kind to you. I have no more to say.”

Thus ended the conversation this time, and the Indians all rising (except the Doctor, who was still asleep) shook hands with the clergymen and retired to their own room.

These excellent gentlemen then expressed to Mr. Melody and myself their high admiration and respect for them as men, and said that they could make every allowance for them, travelling here only for the laudable objects which they had so clearly explained, and their patience taxed in so many instances as I had mentioned, of a similar nature. They agreed that it would be cruel to urge them to listen any further under their present circumstances, and that they had already exercised far greater patience than white men would in a similar condition. They said they should feel bound to call on another day (and did so), not to talk with them about religion, but to bring them some presents that would be serviceable to their wives and little children, and took leave.

CHAPTER XX.

The Doctor and Jim visit several churches—The Indians in St. Paul’s—In Westminster Abbey—The exhibition at the Hall—The Doctor agrees to go in the carriage of the “jolly fat dame”—Mr. Melody objects—The Doctor’s melancholy—Indians stop the bus to talk with Lascars—Make them presents of money—Indians discover chickabobboo-ags (gin-palaces)—and ladies lying down in their carriages reading books—Chim-e-gotch-ees (or fish)—Jim’s story of “Fish”—Experiments in mesmerism—Wash-ka-mon-ya (Jim) mesmerized—The Doctor’s opinions on mesmerism—Ioways in Lord’s Cricket-ground—Archery and ball-playing—Encampment—Wigwams—Indians invited by Mrs. Lawrence to Ealing Park—Their kind reception—Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge—The Princess Mary—The Duchess of Gloucester—The Hereditary Grand Duke and Duchess, and other distinguished guests—Amusements—Beautiful grounds—Indians dine on the lawn—Roast beef and plum-pudding—Chickabobboo—Alarm of the parrots—Doctor’s superstition—Chickabobboo explained—Speech of the War-chief—Taking leave—Fright of the poor birds—Handsome presents—Conservatory—The Doctor’s ideas of it—Indians visit Surrey Zoological Gardens—Fright of the birds and animals—Indians sacrifice tobacco to the lion and the rattle-snakes.

Mr. Melody, feeling the high importance of the charge of these fourteen wild people intrusted to his hands by the Government while they were to see the sights of a foreign country, and feeling the strongest attachment to them personally, was stimulated to every exertion by which he could properly open their eyes to the benefits of civilization, and consequently was inquiring from day to day “what shall be shown them next?”

I had also, with feelings of the highest respect for the chiefs of the nation, knowing them to be of the party, enlisted my warmest exertions in their behalf, and resolved to render them, in all ways I could, the aid that was due from me for their hospitality which benefited me when I was in their country.

With these views we continued our omnibus in driving them about the City and country, and one or the other of us was almost daily accompanying them to some institution or public works from which they might derive some useful information. To these they generally went together and in their native dresses, but there were others where their costumes and their paint would render them too conspicuous, and for such purposes two or three suits of clothes, beaver hats and wigs, became necessary for such a number as wished at any time to look further (and unobserved) into the arcana and hidden mysteries of the great metropolis. And the reader will be ready to exclaim with me, that the field before us was a vast and boundless one.

The two most ambitious to profit by such adventures were “Jim” (as I have before denominated him) and the “Doctor:” the first, from a peculiar faculty he had of learning the English language (in which he was making daily progress), and a consequent insatiable desire to see and learn the modes, and everything he could, of white people, excepting their religion; and the second, from an indomitable desire to look in everywhere and upon everything, more for the pleasure of gratifying a momentary curiosity, and enjoying a temporary smile, than from any decided ambition to carry home and adopt anything, unless it might be a vapour-bath, or something of the kind, in the way of his profession.

In frock-coats and beaver hats, and boots, with a large stick or an umbrella under the arm, and the paint all washed off, there was not much in the looks of these two new-fangled gentlemen to attract the public gaze or remark; and consequently little in the way of the sights and treasures of London being opened to their view.

From the time that this expedient was adopted, our avocations became more diversified and difficult; our anxieties and cares increased, and with them our amusement: for with Melody the sights of London were as yet prospective; and with me, whether old or new, I met them with an equal relish with my unsophisticated brethren from the wilderness.

The amusement of “trying on” and “getting the hang” of the new dresses made merriment enough for the party for one day; and all but these two were quite willing to forego all the pleasures they could afford, rather than cover their cool and naked heads with beaver hats, their shoulders with frock-coats, and substitute for their soft and pliant mocassins and leggings of buckskin, woollen pantaloons and high-heeled boots. The two wiseacres, however, who had adopted them were philosophers, and knew that they were only for certain occasions, after which they were to be dropped off, and their limbs “at home again” in their light and easy native dresses. They were obliged, on such occasions (to be in keeping), to leave their long and ornamented pipes and tomahawks behind, and (not to lose the indispensable luxury of smoking) to carry a short and handy civilized pipe, with their tobacco, and a box of lucifers, in their pockets.

Reader, pray don’t try to imagine what a figure these two copper-coloured “swells” cut, when they first sallied forth in their new attire, for it will be in vain: but behold them and me, in the future pages of this book, and when their dresses had got to work easy, profiting by gazing upon the wonders and glories of civilization, which we never otherwise could have beheld together.

As one of the first fruits of the new expedient (and while the subject was fresh and revolving in the minds of all), there was now a chance of gratifying the Doctor’s desire to see the modes and places of worship of some of the different denominations of religion, of which he had heard so much, from Daniel and others, within the few days past. These visits were their first attempts in their assumed characters, and were mostly made in the company of Mr. Melody or Jeffrey, and without any amusing results either for the congregations or the Ioways, save an incident or two, such as must be expected in the first experiments with all great enterprises. The Doctor had been told that when he entered the Protestant Church, he must take his hat off at the door, and had practised it before he started; but, seeing such an immense number of ladies, he had unfortunately forgot it, and being reminded of it when he had been placed in his seat, his wig came off with it, exposing, but a moment however, his scalp-lock and the top of his head, where he had not deemed it necessary to wash off the red paint.

In the Methodist chapel, where these two queer fellows had ventured one day with Daniel, the sermon was long and tedious, and there was nothing observed curious excepting a blue smoke rolling up over the top of the pew, where the Doctor’s pipe had been lit, and his head sunk down between his knees; and one other occurrence, that afterwards happened in the heat of the exhortation from the pulpit, and much to the amusement of the Doctor and Jim, of a young woman, in their immediate vicinity, who began to groan, then to sing, and at length tumbled down from her seat upon the floor. The Doctor thought at first she was very sick, and wondered there was no physician there to bleed her; but when Daniel told him what was the matter, the old man smiled, and often talked about it afterwards.

I took the whole party through Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s, where they stood and contemplated in amazement the works of human hands, so entirely beyond their comprehension that they returned in reserved and silent contemplation.

Returning again to the Exhibition-room at the Egyptian Hall, several evenings of which have passed by without mention, but much in the same way, we find the same excitement and applause, and the “jolly fat dame” at the end of the platform, nightly receiving the Doctor’s impressive smiles, which are constantly ready for her; and which by this time, aided by the continued coldness of the Roman-nose, were making visible inroads upon her tender affections. She had had, it seemed, on this evening, some conversation with the Doctor, through the interpreter, who had heretofore studiously kept out of the way, and she had invited the Doctor to ride to her house in her carriage, after the exhibition was over, believing that he would be able to find in her garden, some roots which he was in great distress to find, and that she would bring him home again safe. Mr. Melody objected to this, which seemed to puzzle the fair dame, and to throw the Doctor into a profound melancholy and dejection.

This rebuff from Mr. Melody was so unexpected and so provoking, when she had so nearly accomplished her object, that the good lady passed out of the room earlier than usual, and tossed her head about with her ostrich plumes as she passed along in the crowd, without having the heart to stop and speak a few words to Daniel, as she had been in the habit of doing. Mr. Melody retired with the Indians, and I remained after the crowd had left, at the solicitation of a party of ladies, who had sent me their card and wished to see me after the exhibition was over. The room being nearly emptied, I saw a party of several fashionably-dressed ladies at the further end of the room, examining the paintings on the walls. In advancing towards them, the one who seemed to be the leader of the party turned around and exclaimed, “Oh, here comes Mr. Catlin, I believe?” “Yes, Madam, I am Mr. Catlin.” “Oh, I am so happy to have the honour of seeing you, Sir, and of speaking to you—you have made all these paintings?” “Yes.” “These Indians are curious fellows, and well worth seeing, but I consider you ten times more of a curiosity. Look here, ladies, here’s Mr. Catlin, the very man that I have so often told you about. Dear me, what dangers and hardships you must have been through! Oh, I do think you are one of the wonders of the world—and not a grey hair in your head yet! My dear Sir, I know your whole history— you’d scarcely believe it—I know it ’like a book,' as they say. I recollect the very day when you started for India, and I have followed you the whole way—I have your book—I bought several copies to give to my friends; I have read every word of it over and over again—and, oh! it’s wonderful—it’s charming—one can’t stop in it—there’s no stopping place in it. By the way, I don’t suppose you were down much in the neighbourhood of Chusan (I’ve got a nephew there—a fine fellow—he’s a surgeon). I suppose you kept pretty much back in the mountains? You had no object in coming down about the coast; and they have had rather hot work there.” “No, Madam, I had not the slightest object to take me near Chusan—I kept a great way back.” “That was right; oh, how judicious! Oh, I have read your interesting work so often. By the way, these fellows are not from the coast—they are from a great way back, I dare say?” “Yes, Madam, they are a great way in the interior.” “I thought so, I knew so—I can tell, d’ ye see—I can always tell a coaster. These are fine men—they grow tea, I suppose, though?” “No, these people don’t grow tea.” “Ah, well, it’s late, we won’t take up your time; but I have been so happy to have seen you—glad, glad to see you home alive to your native soil, and out of that plagued India. Good night.” “Good night, ladies.”

As they left me, I turned round, and met a poor fellow approaching me on one leg and a pair of crutches, and his wife holding on to his arm. He said he had been waiting some time to have the honour of speaking to me before he left, having heard my name pronounced. He told me he lived at Woolwich, where he held some situation for life, as he had lost his leg in the service of his country, and it was a good living for him, luckily, though he had been so unfortunate as to lose his leg.

“My wife and I (said he) ave long eard of this extro’nary hexibition, and she as often hax’d me to come to see it; and though we ave been off and hon about it a great many times, we never got off together until this hafter-noon—it’s a wonderful sight, sir, hand we are appy to ave seen you halso.”

I thanked the poor fellow, and asked him how he lost his leg.

“It was done by the kick of a orse, Sir.”

“But your leg has been taken off above your knee.”

“Yes, Sir, the bone was broken, hand it ad to be hamputated.”

“It must have been very painful!”

“Ah, hit urt a little; though as for the pain of hamputation, I woudn’t give a penny for it: but the loss of my leg is worth a great deal to me; it’s hall ealed up now, Sir, though it’s very hunandy.”

This simple and unfortunate man and his very pretty little wife left me, and I repaired to the Indians’ rooms in St. James’s Street, where I found them finishing their suppers and taking their chickabobboo. Here was in readiness a long catalogue of the adventures of the day—of things they had seen in their drive, &c., to be talked over, as well as the cruel jokes to be listened to, which they were all passing upon the poor Doctor, for the sudden failure of his prospects of digging roots in the fair dame’s garden.

There were many subjects of an amusing nature talked over by these droll fellows during the pipes of this evening, and one of the themes for their comments was the drive which we had given them in two open carriages through Hyde Park, at the fashionable hour. They decided that “the Park, along the banks of the Serpentine, reminded them of the prairies on the shores of the Skunk and the Cedar rivers in their own country; and in fact, that some parts of it were almost exactly the same.” They were amused to see many of the ladies lying down as they rode in their carriages; and also, that many of the great chiefs, pointed out to them riding on horseback, “didn’t know how to ride—that they were obliged to have a man riding a little behind them to pick them up if they should fall off.”

Jim, who was in an unusual good humour this evening, either from the effects of his chickabobboo or from some fine present he might have received in the room, seemed to be the chief “spokesman” for the evening, and for the purpose of assisting his imagination or aiding his voice had laid himself flat upon his back upon his robe, which was spread upon the floor. His loquacity was such, that there was little else for any of us to do than sit still and excessively laugh at the dryness of his jokes, and his amusing remarks upon the things they had seen as they were taking their ride on this and past mornings. He had now got, as has been said, a facility of using occasional words of English, and he brought them in once in a while with the most amusing effect.

He said they had found another place where there were two more Ojibbeway Indians (as he called them), Lascars. sweeping the streets; and it seems that after passing them they had ordered their bus to stop, and called them up and shook hands, and tried to talk with them. They could speak a few words in English, and so could Jim: he was enabled to ask them if they were Ojibbeways, and they to answer, “No, they were Mussulmen.” “Where you live?” “Bombay.” “You sweep dirt in the road?” “Yes,” “Dam fool!” Jim gathered a handful of pennies and gave them, and they drove off.

It seemed that in their drive this day, Jim and the Doctor had both rode outside, which had afforded to Jim the opportunity of seeing to advantage, for the first time. the immense number of “gin palaces,” as they passed along the streets; and into which they could look from the top of the bus, and distinctly see the great number of large kegs, and what was going on inside. The Doctor had first discovered them in his numerous outside rides, and as he was not quite sure that he had rightly understood them, hearing that the English people detested drunkards so much, he had not ventured to say much about them. He had been anxious for the corroboration of Jim’s sharper eyes, and during this morning they had fully decided that the hundreds of such places they were in all directions passing, were places where people went to drink chickabobboo, and they were called chickabobbooags. The conversation of Jim and the Doctor enlarged very much on this grand discovery, and the probable effects they had upon the London people. They had seen many women, and some of them with little babies in their arms, standing and lying around them, and they were quite sure that some of those women were drunk. Jim said that he and the Doctor had counted two or three hundred in one hour. Some of the party told him he had made his story too big, so he said he and the Doctor next day would mark them down on a stick. Jim said there was one street they came through, where he hoped they would never drive them again, for it made their hearts sore to see so many women and little children all in dirty rags: they had never seen any Indians in the wilderness half so poor, and looking so sick. He was sure they had not half enough to eat. He said he thought it was wrong to send missionaries from this to the Indian country, when there were so many poor creatures here who want their help, and so many thousands as they saw going into the chickabobbooags to drink fire-water.

He said they came through a very grand street, where every thing looked so fine and splendid in the windows, and where the ladies looked so beautiful in their carriages, many of them lying quite down, and seemed as if they were very rich and happy; and some of them lay in their carriages, that were standing still, so as to let them read their books. And in this same grand street they saw a great many fine-looking ladies walking along the sides of the roads, and looking back at the gentlemen as they passed by them. These ladies, he and the Doctor observed, looked young, and all looked very smiling, and they thought they wanted husbands. A great deal, Jim said, they had seen of these ladies as they were every day looking out of their own windows in St. James’s Street. A great many of these women, he said, behave very curious; he said he didn’t know for certain but some of these might be chimegotches. This excited a tremendous laugh with the Doctor and several of the young men, and made some of the women smile, though it was rather hushed by the chiefs as an imprudent word for Jim to apply in the present case. This did little, however, to arrest the effects of Jim’s joke, and he continued with some further ingenious embellishments, which set the chiefs into a roar, and Jim then kept the field. Melody and myself laughed also, not at the joke, for we did not understand it, but at their amusement, which seemed to be very great, and led us to inquire the meaning of chimegotches. “Fish,” said Jim, “fish!” We were still at a loss for the meaning of his joke; and our ignorance being discovered, as well as our anxiety to know, they proposed that Jim should relate the story of Chimegotches, or “Fish.” Some one was charging and lighting the pipe in the mean time, which was handed to him, as he rose and took a whiff or two, and then, resuming his former position, flat upon his back, he commenced—

“When the great Mississippi river was a young and beautiful stream, and its waters were blue and clear, and the Ioways lived on its banks, more than a thousand snows since, Net-no-qua, a young man of great beauty, and son of a great chief, complained that he was sick. His appetite left him, and his sleep was not good. His eyes, which had been like those of the war-eagle, grew soft and dim, and sunk deep in his head. His lips, that had been the music for all about him, had become silent; his breast, that had always been calm, was beating, and deep sighs showed that something was wrong within. O-za-pa, whose medicine was great, and to whom all the plants and roots of the prairies were known, was quite lost; he tried all, and all was in vain; the fair son of the chief was wasting away, as each sweet breath that he breathed went off upon the winds, and never came back to him. Thus did Net-no-qua, the son of Ti-ah-ka, pine away. The medicine man told him at last that there was but one thing that could cure him, and that was attended with great danger. In his dream a small prairie snake had got upon a bush, and its light, which was that of the sun, opened his eyes to its brightness, and his ears to its words: ‘The son of Ti-ah-ka grieves—this must not be—his breast must be quiet, and his thoughts like the quiet waters of the gliding brook; the son of Ti-ah-ka will grow like the firm rocks of the mountain, and the chiefs and warriors, who will descend from him, will grow like the branches of the spreading oak.’ The medicine man said to the son of Ti-ah-ka that he must now take a small piece of the flesh from his side for his bait, and in a certain cove on the bank of the river, the first fish that he caught was to be brought to his wigwam alone, under his robe, and she, whose blood would become warm, would be to him like the vine that clings around and through the branches of the oak: that then his eyes would soon shine again like those of the eagle; the music of his lips would soon return, and his troubled breast would again become calm, his appetite would be good, and his sleep would be sweet and quiet like that of a babe.

“Net-no-qua stood upon a rock, and when the hook, with a piece of his side, lay upon the water, the parting hair of Lin-ta (the river-born) was seen floating on the water, and its black and oily tresses were glistening in the sun as the water glided off from them; and her lips were opening to enclose the fatal hook that raised her beautiful breasts above the water. Her round and delicate arms shone bright with their beauty as she extended them to the shore, and the river shed its tears over her skin as her beautiful waist glided through its surface, above which the strong and manly arm of Net-no-qua was gently raising her. The weeping waves in sparkling circles clung around her swelling hips and pressing knees, until the folding robe of the son of Ti-ah-ka was over the wave and around her bending form. One hand still held her slim and tapering fingers, and with the other he encompassed her trembling form, as their equal steps took them from the shore and brought them to the wig-wam of Net-no-qua. His silent house was closed from the footsteps of the world; her delicate arms clung around the neck of the son of the chief, and her black and glossy tresses fell over and around his naked shoulders and mingled with his own. The same robe embraced them both, and her breath was purer than the blue waves from which she came. Their sleep was like the dreams of the antelope, and they awoke as the wild rose-buds open amidst the morning dew; the breast of Net-no-qua was calm, his eyes were again like the eyes of the eagle, his appetite was keen, and his lips sounded their music in the ears of Lin-ta. She was lovely, she was the wife of the son of the chief, and like the vine that clings around and through the branches of the oak, did she cling to Net-no-qua. They were happy, and many have been the descendants that have sprung from the dreams of the son of Ti-ah-ka and the beautiful Lin-ta (the river-born).

“O-ne-ak’n was the brother of Net-no-qua, and Di-ag-gon was his cousin: and they were sick; and they sat upon the rock in the cove in the river: and the two sisters of Lin-ta shone as they lifted their graceful forms above the wave, and their beautiful locks spread as they floated on the surface. The two young warriors sighed as they gazed upon them. The two sisters embraced each other as they glided through and above the waves. They rose to full view, and had no shame. The river ’shed no tears, nor did the sparkling waves hang in circles about their swelling hips and pressing knees;' and as they sank, they beckoned the two young warriors, who followed them to their water-bound caves. They stole back in the morning, and were ashamed and sick. Their tongues were not silent, and others went. The two sisters again showed their lovely forms as they glided above the water, and they beckoned all who came to their hidden caves, and all came home in the morning sick and sad, while every morning saw the son of the chief and his river-born Lin-ta calm and bright as the rising sun. Shame and fear they knew not, but all was love and happiness with them; very different were the sisters of Lin-ta, who at length ventured from their caves at night, and strolled through the village; they were hidden again at the return of the light. Their caves were the resorts of the young men, but the fair daughters of Lin-ta knew them not.

“Such was the story of Lin-ta (the river-born); she was the loved of her husband, and the virtuous mother of her children. Her beautiful sisters were the loved of all men, but had no offspring. They live in their hidden caves to this day, and sometimes in the day as well as in the night are seen walking through the village, though all the Indians call them Chim-ee-gotch-es, that is, Cold-bloods, or Fish.”

Jim got a round of applause for his story, though the Doctor thought he had left out some of the most essential and funny parts of it. Jim, however, seemed well content with the manner in which it was received, and continued to remark that he and the Doctor had come to the conclusion that those beautiful young women, that they saw looking back at the gentlemen in the streets, as well as those who were standing in front of their windows, and bowing to them, and kissing their hands every day, must be “fish;” and that in the great village of London, where so much chickabobboo is drunk, there must be a great number of “fish.” And they thought also that some of these they had seen in the Egyptian Hall when they were giving their dances.

The above and other critiques of Jim upon London modes seemed to the chiefs to be rather too bold, and an impolitic position for Jim to take; and whilst their reprimands were being passed upon him, the train of humour he had happened to get into on that night turned all their remarks into jokes, and they were obliged to join in the irresistible merriment he produced on this occasion, merely from his having taken (as his wife had refused it on this evening as it was just now discovered) the additional mug of his wife’s chickabobboo.

Much merriment was produced amongst the Indians about this time by an appointment that had been made to see some experiments in mesmerism, to be performed by a Dr. M—— at the Indians’ rooms. The Doctor was received at the appointed hour, and brought with him a feeble and pale-looking girl of 14 or 15 years of age to operate upon. This had taken the Indians rather by surprise, as no one had fully explained the nature of the operations to them. I got Jeffrey, however, to translate to them, as near as he could, the nature of this extraordinary discovery, and the effects it was to produce; and the doors being closed, and the young woman placed in a chair, the mesmeriser commenced his mysterious operations. I had instructed the Indians to remain perfectly still and not to laugh, lest they might hinder the operator, and prevent the desired effect. With one knee upon the floor, in front of her, and placing both of his extended thumbs (with his hands clenched) just in front of her two eyebrows, he looked her steadily in the face. This eccentric position and expression disposed Jim to laugh, and though he covered his huge mouth with his hand, and made no noise, still the irresistible convulsions in his fat sides shook the floor we were standing on; and the old Doctor at the same time, equally amused, was liable to do less harm, for all his smiles and laughter, however excessive, were produced by the curious machinery of his face, and never extended further down than the chin or clavicles. The little patient, however, was seen in a few minutes to be going to sleep, and at length fell back in the chair, in the desired state of somnambulism. The operator then, by mesmeric influences, opened her eyes, without touching them, and without waking her, and by the same influence closed them again. In the same way he caused her hand to close, and none of us could open it. Here our Doctor, who tried it, was quite at a stand. He saw the fingers of the operator pass several times in front of it, and its muscles relaxed—it opened of itself. He then brought, by the same influence, her left arm to her breast, and then the right, and challenged the strength of any one in the room to unbend them. This was tried by several of us, but in vain; and when his fingers were passed a few times lightly over them, they were relaxed and returned to their former positions. By this time the Indian women, with their hands over their mouths, began to groan, and soon left the room in great distress of mind. The chiefs, however, and the Doctor and Jim, remained until the experiments were all tried, and with unaccountable success. The operator then, by passing his fingers a few times over the forehead of his patient, brought her gradually to her senses, and the exhibition ended. The convulsions of Jim’s broad sides were now all tempered down into cool quiet, and the knowing smiles of the old Doctor had all run entirely off from, and out of, the furrows of his face, and a sort of painful study seemed to be contracting the rigid muscles that were gathering over them.

N^o. 12.

The chiefs pronounced the unaccountable operation to be the greatest of medicine, and themselves quite satisfied, as they retired; but the old Doctor, not yet quite sure, and most likely thinking it a good thing for his adoption among the mysteries of his profession in his own country, was disposed to remain, with his untiring companion Jim, until some clue could be got to this mystery of mysteries. With this view he had the curiosity of feeling the little girl’s pulse, of examining and smelling the operator’s fingers, &c., and of inquiring whether this thing could be done by any others but himself; to which I replied, that it was now being done by hundreds all through the country, and was no secret. The charm had then fled—it had lost all its value to the old Doctor. The deep thoughts ceased to plough his wrinkled face, and his self-sufficient, happy smiles were again playing upon his front. His views were evidently changed. Jim caught the current of his feelings, and amusement was their next theme. The old Doctor “thought that Jim could easily be frightened,” and would be a good subject. It was proposed that Jim should therefore take the chair, and it was soon announced to the squaws, and amongst them to his wife, that Jim had gone to sleep, and was mesmerised. They all flew to the room, which upset the gravity of his broad mouth, and, with its movements, as a matter of course, the whole bearing of his face; and the operator’s fingers being withdrawn from his nose, he left the chair amidst a roar of laughter. It was then proposed that the old Doctor should sit down and be tried, but he resisted the invitation, on the grounds of the dignity of his profession, which he got me to explain to the medical man, whom he was now evidently disposed to treat rather sarcastically, and his wonderful performance as a piece of extraordinary juggling, or, at least, as divested of its supposed greatest interest, that of novelty. He told him “that there was nothing new or very wonderful in the operation, that he could discover; it was no more than the charm which the snakes used to catch birds; and the more frightful and ugly a man’s face was, the better he could succeed in it. He had no doubt but many ill-looking men amongst white people would use it as a mode of catching pretty girls, which they could not otherwise do, and therefore it would be called amongst white people a very useful thing.”

“All the medicine-men (said he) in the Indian country have known for many years how to do the same thing, and what the white people know of it at this time they have learned from the Indians; but I see that they don’t yet half know how to do it; that he had brought a medicine dress all the way with him for the very purpose, and if the mesmeriser would come the next morning at 9 o’clock, he should see him with it on, and he would engage to frighten any white lady to sleep in five minutes who would take a good look at him without winking or laughing.” The mesmeriser did not come, though the Doctor was on the spot and ready. ([Plate No. 12.])

An event which they had long been looking for with great solicitude took place about this time—the prorogation of Parliament, which afforded the poor fellows their only opportunity of seeing the Queen. They were driven off in good season in their bus, and succeeded in getting the most favourable view of the Queen and the Prince as they were passing in the state-carriage; and, to use their own words for it, “The little Queen and the Prince both put their faces quite out of their carriage of gold to look at us and bow to us.” There is no doubt but by the kindness of the police they were indulged in a favourable position and had a very satisfactory view of Her Majesty the Queen, and it is equally certain that they will never cease to speak of the splendour of the effect of the grand pageant as long as they live.

The nightly excitements and amusements going on at the Egyptian Hall were increasing the public anxiety to see these curious people more at large, and we resolved to procure some suitable ground for the purpose, where their active limbs could be seen in full motion in the open air, as they are seen on their native prairies with their ball-sticks, in their favourite game of the ball, and the use of their bows and arrows, all of which they had brought with them, but could not use in their amusements at the Hall. Their dances, &c., were, however, to be kept up as usual, at night; and for their afternoon exercises in the open air, an arrangement was made for the use of “Lord’s Cricket Ground,” and on that beautiful field (prairie, as they called it) they amused thousands, daily, by their dances, archery, and ball-playing.[18] For this purpose an area of an acre or two was enclosed by a rope, and protected for their amusements by the police. To this the visitors advanced on every side, and seemed delighted with their rude appearance and native sports. This arrangement afforded the Indians the opportunity of showing their games and amusements to the greatest advantage, and also of meeting again the acquaintances they had made at the Egyptian Hall, and shaking hands with all who felt disposed to do them that honour. They had also brought with them, to illustrate the whole of Indian life, no less than three tents (wig-wams) made of buffalo hides, curiously but rudely painted, which the squaws daily erected on the ground, in presence of the spectators, forming by no means the least accurate and pleasing part of the exhibition.

The beautiful scenes presented there could be repeated but a few days, owing to other uses to be made of the grounds; but during that time they were visited by vast numbers of the nobility of London, and several members of the Royal Family. The incidents of those days, which were curious and many, must be passed over, excepting that the Doctor daily beheld in front of the crowd, and at full length, the “jolly fat dame,” to whom he as often advanced, with a diffident smile, to receive a beautiful rose, which she handed to him over the rope.

These amusements in the open air in the daytime, with the dances, &c., at the Hall in the evenings, with their “drive” in the morning, and civil attentions to persons calling on them at their rooms, now engrossed completely all their time, and they were actually compelled to give offence to some parties who called on them, and to whom they could not devote the time. Amongst those were several deputations from public schools, of clergymen, and Sunday school teachers; and also three very excellent Christian ladies in a party, one of whom, Mrs. E——, I was well acquainted with, and knowing her extensive Christian and charitable labours, I had encouraged to call, as she had expressed a strong desire to talk with them on the subject of religion. They appealed to me, and I desired them to call at another hour, which they did, and I said to the chief that there was another proposition for a talk on the subject of religion. This seemed to annoy them somewhat, and after smoking a pipe, they decided not to see them. I then told them that they were three ladies; this seemed to startle them for a few moments, but they smoked on, and finally the War-chief said “it was a subject on which, if they had anything more to say, they would rather say it to the men than to women—they can talk with our women if they like.” I then invited the Indian women into the room, and Jeffrey interpreted for the ladies, who had a long conversation with them, but, as the ladies afterwards told me, few words on the subject of religion: as to the first questions on that subject, the squaws answered that they left that mostly to their husbands, and they thought that if they loved their husbands, and took good care of their children, the Great Spirit would be kind to them. These kind ladies called the next day and left them fourteen Bibles and some other very useful presents, and their prayers for their happiness, feeling convinced that this was the most effectual and best way of making lasting and beneficial impressions on their minds.

One of the very high compliments paid them from the fashionable world was now before them, and this being the day for it, all parties were dressing and painting for the occasion. I had received a very kind note from Mrs. Lawrence, inviting me to bring them to pay her a visit in her lovely grounds at Ealing Park, a few miles from the city of London. The omnibus was ready, and being seated, we were there with an hour’s drive, and received on the fine lawn in the rear of her house. Here was presented the most beautiful scene which the Ioways helped to embellish whilst they were in the kingdom—for nothing more sweet can be seen than this little paradise, hemmed in with the richness and wildness of its surrounding foliage, and its velvet carpet of green on which the Indians were standing and reclining, and the kind lady and her Royal and noble guests, collected in groups, to witness their dances and other amusements. Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, with the lovely Princess Mary, the Hereditary Grand Duke and Duchess of Mecklenburgh Strelitz, the Duchess of Gloucester, and many of the nobility, formed the party of her friends whom this lady had invited, and who soon entered the lawn to meet these sons of the forest, and witness their wild sports.

At the approach of the lady and her Royal party, the Indians all arose, and the chiefs having been introduced, half an hour or more was passed in a conversation with them, through Jeffrey and myself, and an examination of their costumes, weapons, &c., when they seated themselves in a circle, and passing the pipe around, were preparing for a dance. The first they selected was their favourite, the eagle-dance, which they gave with great spirit, and my explanation of the meaning of it seemed to add much to its interest. ([Plate No. 13.]) After the dance they strung their bows and practised at the target, and at length Mr. Melody tossed up the ball, when they snatched up their ballsticks, which they had brought for the purpose, and darted over and about the grounds in the exciting game of the ball. This proved more amusing to the spectators than either of the former exercises, but it was short, for they soon lost their ball, and the game being completed, they seated themselves again, and with the pipe were preparing for the war-dance, in which, when they gave it, the beautiful lawn, and the forests around it, resounded with the shrill notes of the war-whoop, which the frightened parroquets and cockatoos saucily echoed back with a laughable effect, and a tolerable exactness. The pipe of peace (or calumet) dance was also given, with the pipes of peace in their hands, which they had brought out for the purpose.

While these exciting scenes were going on, the butler was busy spreading a white cloth over a long table arranged on the lawn, near the house, and on it the luxuries that had been preparing in the kitchen, for their dinners. This arrangement was so timed that the roast beef was on and smoking just when their amusements were finished, and when the announcement was made that their “dinner was up,” all parties moved in that direction, but in two divisions, the one to partake, and the other to look on and see how wild people could handle the knife and fork. This was to be the last, though (as I could see by the anxiety of the spectators) not the least amusing of their amusements, and it was in the event rendered peculiarly so to some of us, from the various parts which the kind and illustrious spectators were enabled to take in it, when in all their former amusements there was no possible way in which they could “lend a hand.” Every one could here assist in placing a chair or handing a plate, and the Indians being seated, all were ready and emulous, standing around the table and at their elbows, to perform some little office of the kind, to assist them to eat, and to make them comfortable. His Royal Highness proposed that I should take my stand at the head of the table, before a huge sirloin of roast beef, and ply the carving knife, which I did; whilst he travelled, plates in hand, until they all were helped. The young Princess Mary, and the two little daughters of the kind lady, like the three Graces, were bending about under loads of bread and vegetables they were helping the Indians to, and the kind lady herself was filling their glasses from the generous pitcher of foaming ale, and ordering the butler to uncork the bottles of champagne which were ready and hissing at the delay.

N^o. 13.

This unusual scene was taking place in the nearer vicinity of the poor parroquets and cockatoos, who seemed, thus far, awed into a discretionary silence, but were dancing to the right and the left, and busily swinging their heads to and fro, with their eyes and their ears open to all that was said and done. When the cork flew from the first bottle of champagne, the parrots squalled out, “There! there!! there!!!” and the Indians as suddenly, “Chickabobboo! chickabobboo!” Both laughed, and all the party had to laugh, at the simultaneous excitement of the parrots and the Indians; and most of them were as ignorant of the language (and of course of the wit of) the one as of the other. Chickabobboo, however, was understood, at least by the Indians; and their glasses being filled with champagne, the moment they were raising it to their lips, and some had commenced drinking, the cockatoos suddenly squalled out again, “There! there!! there!!!” The old Doctor, and his superstitious friend Jim, who had not got their glasses quite to their mouths, slowly lowered them upon the table, and turned, with the most beseeching looks, upon Mr. Melody and myself, to know whether they were breaking their vow to us. They said nothing, but the question was sufficiently plain in their looks for an answer, and I replied, “No, my good fellows, the parrots are fools, they don’t know what they are talking about; they, no doubt, thought this was whiskey, but we know better; it’s some of the ‘Queen’s chickabobboo,’ and you need not fear to drink it.” This curious affair had been seen but by a part of the company, and only by the Indians at our end of the table, and therefore lost its general effect until I related it. The queer-sounding word “chickabobboo” seemed to amuse, and to excite the curiosity of many, and there was no understanding it without my going over the whole ground, and explaining how and where it originated, which, when finished, created much amusement. While I was relating this story the plates were being changed, and just at the end of it the parrots sang out again, “There! there!! there!!!” as before; but it was discovered that, at that instant, one of the waiters was passing near them with a huge and smoking plum-pudding, and so high that we could but just see his face over the top of it. This was placed before me, and as I divided and served it, the same hands, Royal and fair, conveyed it to the different parts of the table. This was a glorious pudding, and I had helped each one abundantly, expecting, as all did, that they would devour it without mincing; but, to the surprise of all, they tasted a little, and left the rest upon their plates. Fears were entertained that the pudding did not suit them, and I was constrained to ask why they did not eat more. The reply was reluctant, but very significant and satisfactory when it came. Jim spoke for all. He said, “They all agreed that it was good—very good; but that the beef was also very good, and the only fault of the pudding was, that it had come too late.”

The War-chief at this time was charging his long pipe with k’nick k’neck, and some fire being brought to light it, it was soon passed from his into the chiefs hands, when he arose from the table, and offering his hand to His Royal Highness, stepped a little back, and addressed him thus:—

“My Great Father,—Your face to-day has made us all very happy. The Great Spirit has done this for us, and we are thankful for it. The Great Spirit inclined your heart to let us see your face, and to shake your hand, and we are very happy that it has been so. (How, how, how!)

“My Father,—We have been told that you are the uncle of the Queen, and that your brother was the King of this rich country. We fear we shall go home without seeing the face of your Queen, except as we saw it in her carriage; but if so, we shall be happy to say that we have seen the great chief who is next to the Queen. (How, how, how!)

“My Father,—We are poor and ignorant people from the wilderness, whose eyes are not yet open, and we did not think that we should be treated so kindly as we have to-day. Our skins are red, and our ways are not so pleasing as those of the white people, and we therefore feel the more proud that so great a chief should come so far to see us, and to help to feed us; this we shall never forget. (How, how, how!)

“My Father,—We feel thankful to the lady who has this fine house and these fine fields, and who has invited us here to-day, and to all the ladies and gentlemen who are here to see us. We shall pray for you all in our prayers to the Great Spirit, and now we shall be obliged to shake hands with you and go home. (How, how, how!)”

His Royal Highness replied to him,—

“That he and all his friends present had been highly pleased with their appearance and amusements to-day, and most of all with the reverential manner in which he had just spoken of the Great Spirit, before whom we must all, whether red or white, soon appear. He thanked the chiefs for the efforts they had made to entertain them, and trusted that the Great Spirit would be kind to them in restoring them safe home to their friends again.”

At this moment, when all were rising and wrapping their robes around them preparing to start, the lady appeared among them, with a large plate in her hands, bearing on it a variety of beautiful trinkets, which she dispensed among them according to their various tastes; and with a general shake of the hand, they retired from the grounds to take their carriage for town. The parrots and cockatoos all bowed their heads in silence as they passed by them; but as the old Doctor (who always lingers behind to bestow and catch the last smile, and take the second shake of the hand where there are ladies in question) extended his hand to the kind lady, to thank her the second and last time, there was a tremendous cry of “There! there!! there!!!” and “Cockatoo! cockatoo!”—the last of which the poor Doctor, in his confusion, had mistaken for “Chickabobboo! chickabobboo!” He, however, kept a steady gait between the din of “There! there!! there!!!” and “Cockatoo!” that was behind him, and the inconceivable laughter of his party in the carriage, who now insisted on it (and almost made him believe), that his ugly face had been the sole cause of the alarm of the birds and monkeys since the Indians entered the ground.[19]

This was theme enough, to ensure them a merry ride home, where they arrived in time, and in the very best of humour, for their accustomed evening amusements at the Hall; and after that, of taking their suppers and chickabobboo in their own apartments, which resounded with songs and with encomiums on the kind lady and her chickabobboo, until they got to sleep.

The next morning we had an appointment to visit the Surrey Zoological Gardens, and having the greatest curiosity to witness the mutual surprise there might be exhibited at the meeting of wild men and wild animals, I was one of the party. The interview, in order to avoid the annoyance of a crowd, had been arranged as a private one: we were, therefore, on the spot at an early hour; and as we were entering (the Doctor, with his jingling dress and red face, being in advance of the party, as he was sure to be in entering any curious place, though the last to leave if there were ladies behind), we were assailed with the most tremendous din of “There! there!! there!!!” “Cockatoo! cockatoo!” and “God dam!” and fluttering of wings of the poor affrighted parrots, that were pitching down from their perches in all directions. I thought it best that we should retreat a few moments, until Mr. Cross could arrange the front ranks of his aviary a little, which he did by moving back some of their outposts to let us pass. We had been shown into a little office in the meantime, where Mr. Melody had very prudently suggested that they had better discharge as many of their rattling gewgaws as possible, and try to carry into the ground as little of the frightful as they could. Amusing jokes were here heaped upon the Doctor for his extreme ugliness, which, as Jim told him, had terrified the poor birds almost to death. The Doctor bore it all patiently, however, and with a smile; and partially turned the laugh upon Jim with the big mouth, by replying that it was lucky for the gentleman owning the parrots that Jim did not enter first; for if he had, the poor man would have found them all dead, instead of being a little alarmed, as they then were.

We were now entering upon the greatest field for the speculations and amusement (as well as astonishment) of the Indians that they were to meet in the great metropolis. My note-book was in my hand and my pencil constantly employed; and the notes that I then and in subsequent visits made, can be allowed very little space in this work. All were ready, and we followed Mr. Cross; the Indians, fourteen in number, with their red faces and red crests, marching in single file. The squalling of parrots and barking of dogs seemed to have announced to the whole neighbourhood that some extraordinary visitation was at hand; and when we were in front of the lions’ cage, their tremendous bolts against its sides, and unusual roar, announced to the stupidest animal and reptile that an enemy was in the field. The terrible voice of the king of beasts was heard in every part, and echoed back in affrighted notes of a hundred kinds. Men as well as beasts were alarmed, for the men employed within the grounds were retreating, and at every turn they made amidst its bewildering mazes, they imagined a roaring lion was to spring upon their backs. The horrid roaring of the lions was answered by lions from another part of the garden. Hyenas and panthers hissed, wolves were howling, the Indians (catching the loved inspiration of nature’s wildness) sounded their native war-whoop, the buffaloes bellowed, the wild geese stretched their necks and screamed; the deer, the elk, and the antelopes were trembling, the otters and beavers dived to the bottom of their pools, the monkeys were chattering from the tops of their wire cages, the bears were all at the summit of their poles, and the ducks and the geese whose wings were not cropped, were hoisting themselves out of their element into quieter regions.

The whole establishment was thus in an instant “brushed up,” and in their excitement, prepared to be seen to the greatest possible advantage; all upon their feet, and walking their cages to and fro, seemingly as impatient to see what they seemed to know was coming, as the visiting party was impatient to see them.

I explained to the Indians that the lion was the king of beasts—and they threw tobacco before him as a sacrifice. The hyenas attracted their attention very much, and the leopards and tigers, of the nature of all of which I promised to give them some fuller account after we got home. They met the panther, which they instantly recognized, and the recognition would seem to have been mutual, from its evident alarm, evinced by its hissing and showing its teeth. Jim called for the Doctor “to see his brother,” the wolf. The Doctor’s totem or arms was the wolf—it was therefore medicine to him. The Doctor advanced with a smile, and offering it his hand, with a smirk of recognition, he began, in a low and soft tone, to howl like a wolf. All were quiet a moment, when the poor animal was led away by the Doctor’s “distant howlings,” until it raised up its nose, with the most pitiable looks of imploration for its liberty, and joined him in the chorus. He turned to us with an exulting smile, but to his “poor imprisoned brother,” as he called it, with a tear in his eye, and a plug of tobacco in his hand, which he left by the side of its cage as a peace-offering.

The ostrich (of which there was a noble specimen there) and the kangaroo excited the admiration and lively remarks of the Indians; but when they met the poor distressed and ragged prisoner, the buffalo from their own wild and free prairies, their spirits were overshadowed with an instant gloom; forebodings, perhaps, of their own approaching destiny. They sighed, and even wept, for this worn veteran, and walked on. With the bears they would have shaken hands, if they could have done it, “and embraced them too,” said the Little-wolf, “for he had hugged many a one.” They threw tobacco to the rattlesnake, which is medicine with them, and not to be killed. The joker, Jim, made us white men take off our hats as we passed the beaver, for it was his relation; and as he had learned a little English, when he heard the ducks cry “quack,” he pointed to them and told the Doctor to go there—he was called for.

Thus rapid were the transitions from surprise to pity, and to mirth, as we passed along, and yet to wonder and astonishment, which had been reserved for the remotest and the last. Before the massive elephant little or nothing was said; all hands were over their mouths; their tobacco was forgotten, they walked quietly away, and all of us being seated under an arbour, to which we were conducted, our kind guide said to Jeffrey, “Tell the Indians that the immense arch they see now over their heads is made of the jaw-bones of a whale, and they may now imagine themselves and the whole party sitting in its mouth.” “Well, now,” said Jeffrey, “you don’t say so?” “Yes, it’s even so.” “Well, I declare! why, the elephant would be a mere baby to it.” Jeffrey explained it to the Indians, and having risen from their seats, and being satisfied, by feeling it, that it was actually bone, they wished to go home, and “see the rest at a future time.” We were then near the gate, where we soon took our carriage, and returned to their quarters in St. James’s Street.