THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 269 



therefore, yon know nothin' at all of a hurly-burly of this kind, did ye? Did ye iver 

 see (and I jist want to know), did ye iver see the fire in high grass, runnin' with a 

 strong wind, about five mile and a half, and thin hear it strike into a slash of dry 

 cane brake, I would jist ax you that? By thuneder, you niver have, for your eyes 

 would jist stick out of your head at the thought of it. Did ye iver look way into 

 the backside of Mr. Maelzel's Moscow and see the flashin' flames arunnin' up ; and 

 then hear the poppin' of the militia fire jist afterwards ? Then you have jist a touch 

 of it ! ye're jist beginnin'. Ye may talk about fires, but this is sich a baste of a fire ! 

 Ask Jack Sanford, he's a chop that can tall you all aboot it. Not wishin' to distarb 

 you, I would say a word more, and that is this: If I were advisin', I would say that 

 we are gettin' too far into this imbustible meadow, for the grass is dry and the wind 

 is too strong to make a light matter of at this season of the year ; an' now I'll jist 

 tell ye how McKenzie and I were sarved in this very place about two years ago ; 

 and he's a worldly chop, and niver aslape, my word for that hollo, what's that ! " 



Bed Thunder was on his feet ! — his long arm was stretched over the grass, and his 

 blazing eye-balls starting from their sockets! " White man," said he, " see ye that 

 small cloud lifting itself from the prairie ? He rises ! The hoofs of our horses have 

 waked him ! The Fire Spirit is awake ; this wind is from his nostrils, and his face is 

 this way ! *' No more ; but his swift horse darted under him, and he gracefully slid 

 over the waving grass as it was bent by the wind. Our viands were left, and we 

 were .swift on his trail. The extraordinary leaps of his wild horse occasionally raised 

 his red shoulders to view, and he sank again in the waving billows of grass. The 

 tremulous wind was hurrying by us fast, and on it was borne the agitated wing of 

 the soaring eagle. His neck was stretched for the tow r ering bluff, and the thrilling 

 screams of his voice told the secret that was behind him. Our horses were swift, and 

 we struggled hard, yet hope was feeble, for the bluff was yet blue, and nature nearly 

 exhausted. The sunshine was dying, and a cool shadow advancing over the plain. 

 Not daring to look back, we strained every nerve. The roar of a distant cataract 

 seemed gradually advancing on us, the winds increased, the howling tempest was 

 maddening behind us, and the swift-winged beetle and heath-hens instinctively 

 drew their straight lines over our heads. The fleet-bounding antelope passed us also, 

 and the still swifter long-legged hare, who leaves but a shadow as he flies. Here was 

 no time for thought, but I recollect the heavens were overcast, the distant thunder 

 was heard, the lightning's glare was reddening the scene, and the smell that came on 

 the winds struck terror to my soul. * * * The piercing yell of my savage guide 

 at this moment came back upon the winds, his robe was seen waving in the air, and 

 his foaming horse leaping up the towering bluff. 



Our breath and our sinews in this last struggle for life were just enough to bring 

 us to its summit. We had risen from a sea of fire! "Great God!" I exclaimed, 

 " how sublime to gaze into that valley, where the elements of nature are so strangely 

 convulsed! " Ask not the poet or painter how it looked, for they can tell you not ; 

 but ask the naked savage, and watch the electric twinge of his manly nerves and 

 muscles as he pronounces the lengthened " hush — sh — " his hand on his mouth, and 

 his glaring eye-balls looking you to the very soul. 



I beheld beneath me an immense cloud of black smoke, which extended from one 

 extremity of this vast plain to the other, and seemed majestically to roll over its sur- 

 face in a bed of liquid fire ; and above this mighty desolation, as it rolled along, the 

 whitened smoke, pale with terror, was streaming and rising up in magnificent cliffs 

 to heaven. 



I stood secure, but tremblingly, and heard the maddening wind, which hurled this 

 monster o'er the land ; I heard the roaring thunder, and saw its thousand lightnings 

 flash ; and then I saw behind the black and smoking desolation of this storm of fire, 

 —Pages 16-21, vol. 2, Catlin's Eight Years. 



