THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 119 



He was taken to Washington in 1832, by Major Sanford, the Indian agent; after he 

 went home he was condemned as a liar, and killed, in consequence of the incredible 

 stories which he told of the whites. (Seo him on his way to, and returning from, 

 Washington, No. 475.) Painted in 1832. 



(Plate No. 28, page 56, vol. 1, Catlin's Eight Years.) 

 I have painted the portrait of a very distinguished young man, and son of the chie 

 (plate 28, No. 179).- His dress is a very handsome one, and in every respect auswers 

 well to the descriptions I have given. 



I have just had the satisfaction of seeing this traveled gentleman (Wi-jiiu-jon) 

 meet his tribe, his wife, and his little children, after an absence of a year or more on 

 his journey of 0,000 miles to Washington City and back again, in company with Major 

 Sanford, the Indian agent, where he has been spending the winter amongst the fash- 

 ionables in the polished circles of civilized society. And I can assure you, readers, 

 thai his entr<5e amongst his own people, in the dress and with the airs of a civilized 

 bean, was one of no ordinary occurrence, and produced no common sensation amongst 

 the red-visaged Assinneboins, or in the minds of those who were travelers, and but 

 spectators to the scene. 



On his way home from Saint Louis to this place, a distance of 2,000 miles, I traveled 

 with this gentleman, on the steamer Yellowstone, and saw him step ashore on a beau- 

 tiful prairie where several thousand of his people were encamped, with a complete 

 suit en militaire, a colonel's uniform of blue, presented to him by the President 

 of the United States, with a beaver hat and feather, with epaulettes of gold — with 

 sash and belt, and broadsword, with high-heeled boots — with a keg of whisky under 

 his arm, and a blue umbrella in his hand. In this plight and metamorphose he took 

 his position on the bank, amongst his friends — his wife and other relations, not one of 

 whom exhibited, for a half-hour or more, the least symptoms of recognition, although 

 they knew^ well who was before them. He also gazed upon them — upon his wife and 

 parents, and little children, who were about, as if they were foreign to him, and he 

 had not a feeling or thought to interchange with them. Thus the mutual gazings 

 upon and from this would-be stranger lasted for fully half an hour, when a gradual, 

 but cold and exceedingly formal recognition began to take place, and an acquaint- 

 ance ensued, which ultimately and smoothly resolved itself, without the least ap- 

 parent emotion, into its former state, and the mutual kindred intercourse seemed to 

 flow on exactly where it had been broken off, as if it had been but for a moment, and 

 nothing had transpired in the interim to check or change its character or expression. 

 Such is one of the stoic instances of a custom which belongs to all the North Ameri- 

 can Indians, forming one of the most striking features in their character ; valued, 

 cherished, and practiced, like many of their strange notions, for reasons which are 

 difficult to be learned or understood, and which probably will never be justly appre- 

 ciated by others than themselves. 



This man, at this time, is creating a wonderful sensation amongst his tribe, who 

 are daily and nightly gathered in gaping and listless crowds around him, whilst he is 

 descauting upon what he has seen in the fashionable world; and which to them in. 

 unintelligible and beyond their comprehension; for which I find they are already 

 setting him down as a liar and impostor. 



What may be the final results of his travels and initiation into the fashionable 

 world, and to what disasters his incredible narrations may yet subject the poor fellow 

 in this strange land, time only will develop. 



He is now in disgrace, and spurned by the leading men of the tribe, and rather to 

 be pitied than envied, for the advantages which one might have supposed would 1 

 have flown from his fashionable tour. More of this curious occurrence and of th'u 

 extraordinary man I will surely give in the future. — G. C. 



(See No. 474, herein.) 



