THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 327 



everything gone began to neigli very violently, and at last started off at fullest speed 

 and overtook me, passing within a few paces of me and wheeling about at a few rods' 

 distance in front of me, trembling like an aspen leaf. 



I called him by his familiar name, and walked up to him with the bridle in my 

 baud, which I put over his head as he held it down for me, and the saddle on his 

 back, as he actually stooped to receive it. I was soon arranged and on his back, 

 when he started off upon his course as if he was well contented and pleased, like his 

 rider, with the maneuver which had brought us together again and afforded us mu- 

 tual relief from our awkward positions. Though this alarming freak of Charley's 

 passed off and terminated so satisfactorily, yet I thought such rather dangerous ones 

 to play, and I took good care after that night to keep him under my strict authority, 

 resolving to avoid further tricks and experiments till we got to the land of cultivated 

 fields and steady habits. 



On the night of this memorable day Charley and I stopped in one of the most 

 lovely little valleys I ever saw, and even far more beautiful than could have been 

 imagined by mortal man— an enchanting little lawn of five or six acres, on the banks 

 of a cool and rippling stream that was alive with fish, and every now and then a 

 fine brood of young ducks, just old enough for delicious food and too unsophisticated 

 to avoid an easy and simple death. This little lawn was surrounded by bunches and 

 copses of the most luxuriant and picturesque foliage, consisting of the lofty hois 

 Wares and elms, spreading out their huge branches as if offering protection to the 

 rounded groups of cherry and plum trees that supported festoons of grape-vines, with 

 their purple clusters, that hung in the most tempting manner over the green carpet 

 that was everywhere decked out with wild flowers of all tints and of various sizes, 

 from the modest wild sunflowers, with their thousand tall and drooping het ds, to 

 the lilies that stood and the violets that crept beneath them. By the side of this 

 cool stream Charley was fastened, and near him my bear-skin was spread in the 

 grass, and by it my little fire, to which I soon brought a fine string of perch from the 

 brook; from which, and a broiled duck, and a delicious cup of coffee I made my din- 

 ner and supper, which were usually united in one meal at half an hour's sun. After 

 this I strolled about this sweet little paradise, which I found was chosen not only by 

 myself but by the wild deer, which were repeatedly rising from their quiet lairs and 

 bounding out and over the graceful swells of the prairies Avhich hemmed in and 

 framed this little picture of sweetest tints and most masterly touches. 



The Indians also, I found, had loved it once, and left it : for here and there were their 

 solitary aud deserted graves, which told, though briefly, of former haunts and sports 

 and perhaps of wars and deaths that have once rung and echoed through this little 

 silent vale. — G. C. 



Mr. Catlin and Charley reached Saint Louis safely in November, 1834, 

 where Charley was sold. 



470. Sioux Worshiping at the Red Bowlders; a large bowlder and two small 



ones, bearing some resemblance to a buffalo cow and two calves, painted 

 red by the Indians, and regarded by them with superstitious reverence, 

 near the Coteau des Prairies. Painted in 1836. 



(See also Nos. 337 and 336, herein.) 



471. Camanchee (Comanchee) Warrior Lancing an Osage, at full speed. Painted 



in 1834, while on First Dragoon tour. (No plate.) 



472. Camanches giving the Arrows to the Medicine Rock. Painted in 1834, at 



Great Comanche Village. 

 § (No plate.) 

 A curious superstition of the Camanches : Going to war, they have uo faith in their 

 success, unless they pass a celebrated painted rock, where they appease the spirit oi 



