620 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



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 chimcgotches. "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: 



JIM'S STOEY OF CHIMEGOTCHES, OE "eISH." 



"When the great Mississippi Eiver was a young and beautiful stream, and its waters ■ 

 were blue and clear, and the loways lived on its banks, more than a thousand snows 

 since, Nel-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. 0-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-aJi-Jca, 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 ri-a/i-/L<x grieves; this must not be; his breast must 

 be quiet, and his thoughts like the quiet waters of the gliding brook; thesonof Ti-a/t-^-a 

 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-lca 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 appe- 

 tite 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 fioating 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 inclose 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-aJi- lea 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 wigwam of Net-7io-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 dream of the ante- 

 lope, 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 ayes of the eagle, his appetite was 



