470 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



If you never have been inspired with such a feeling, and have been in the habit of 

 believing that you have thought of and imagined a little of everything, try for a 

 moment to disrobe your mind and your body and helj) me through feelings to which 

 I cannot give utterance. Imagine yourselves as I was with my trembling little horse 

 underneath me, and the cool atmosphere that was floating about and ready more 

 closely and familiarly to embrace me, as it did at the next moment when we "were 

 off," and struggling for the goal and the prize. 



Though my little Pegasus seemed to dart through the clouds and I to be wafted on 

 the wings of Mercury, yet my red adversary was leaving me too far behind for fur- 

 ther competition, and I wheeled to the left, making a circuit on the prairie and came 

 in at; the starting point, much to the satisfaction and exultation of the jockeys, but 

 greatly to the murmuring disappointment of the women and children who had assem- 

 bled in a dense throng to witness the "coming out" of the "white medicine man.'' 

 I clothed myself instantly and came back acknowledging my defeat, and the supe- 

 rior skill of my competitor, as well as the wonderful muscle of his little charger, which 

 pleased him much; and his sisters' lamentations were soon turned to joy by the re- 

 ceipt of a beautiful 'scarlet robe and a profusion of vari-colored beads, which were 

 speedily paraded on her copper-colored neck. 



After I had seen enough of these amusements I succeeded with some difficulty in 

 pulling Ba'tiste and Bogard from amongst the groups of women and girls, where they 

 seemed to be successfully ingratiating themselves, and we trudged back to the little 

 village of earth-covered lodges, which were hemmed in and almost obscured from the 

 eye by the fields of corn and luxuriant growth of wild sunflowers and other vegetable 

 productions of the soil, whose spontaneous growth had reared their heads in such 

 profusion as to appear all but like a dense and formidable forest. 



We loitered about this little village awhile, looking into most of its lodges and 

 tracing its winding avenues, after which we recrossed the river and wended our way 

 back again to headquarters, from whence we started in the morning, and where I am 

 now writing. This day's ramble showed to us all the inhabitants of this little tribe, 

 except a portion of their warriors who are out on a war excursion against the Ricca- 

 rees, and I have been exceedingly pleased with their general behavior and looks, as 

 well as with their numerous games and amusements, in many of which I have given 

 them great pleasure by taking a part. 



RICCABEE VILLAGE. 



As Mr. Catlin passed up the Missouri Eiver in the "Yellowstone," in 

 June, 1832, he made a sketch of the Eiccaree or Arickaree village. (See 

 No. 386.) (Pages 198, 199, vol. 2, Catlin's Eight Tears, as also vol. 1.) 



From the Little Man dan village, in July, 1832, he writes : 



I shall resume my voyage down the river in a few days in my canoe, and I may 

 perhaps stop and pay these people [the Riccarees] a visit, and consequently be able 

 to say more of them ; or, I may be hauled in to the shore and my boat plundered and 

 my scalp danced, as they have dealt quite recently with the last .trader who has dared 

 for several years past to continue his residence with them, after they had laid fatal 

 hands on each one of his comrades before him and divided and shared their goods. 



Kos. 123-126 are portraits of Eiccarees. These were all painted in 

 the Mandan villages where they were visiting. The Eiccarees had de- 

 clared war against all whites, and Mr. Catlin did not risk a visit. 



With the Sioux, at old Fort Pierre, Mouth of Teton Eiver. 



On his return voyage (in his canoe) from Fort Union, a.nd after leav- 

 ing the Mandans, Mr. Catlin, with his two companions, stopped at Old 



