THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 329 



sand iuhabftants, upon which, after consulting a little, they pitched their sticks 

 overboard into the river. 



" I was in Saint Louis at the time of their arrival, and painted their portraits while 

 they rested in that place. Wi-jun-jon was the first, who reluctantly yielded to the 

 solicitations of the Indian agent and myself and appeared as sullen as death in my 

 painting-room, with eyes fixed like those of a statue upon me, though his pride had 

 plumed and tinted him in all the freshness and brilliancy of an Indian's toilet. In his 

 nature's uncowering pride he stood a perfect model, but superstition had hung a lin- 

 gering curve upon his lip, and pride had stiffened it into contempt. He had been urged 

 into a measure against which his fears had pleaded, yet he stood unmoved and un- 

 flinching amid the struggles of mysteries that were hovering about him, foreboding 

 ills of every kind and misfortunes that were to happen to him in consequence of this 

 operation. 



"He was dressed in his native costume, which was classic and exceedingly beau- 

 tiful (Plate 271); his leggings and shirt were of the mountain-goat skin, richly gar- 

 nished with quills of the porcupine and fringed with locks of scalps taken from his 

 enemies' heads. Over these floated his long hair in plaits that fell nearly to the 

 ground ; his head was decked with the war-eagle's plumes, his robe was of the skiu 

 of the young buffalo bull, richly garnished and emblazoned with the battles of his 

 life ; his quiver and bow were slung, and his shield of the skiu of the bull's ueck. 



" I painted him in this beautiful dress, and so also the others who were with him ; 

 and after I had done, Major Sanford went on to "Washington with them, where they 

 spent the winter. 



" Wi-jun-jon was the foremost on all occasions — the first to enter the levee, the first 

 to shake the President's hand and make his speech to him, the last to extend the hand 

 to them, but the first to catch the smiles and admiration of the gentler sex. He trav- 

 eled the giddy maze and beheld among the buzzing din of civil life their tricks of art, 

 their handiworks, and their finery. He visited their principal cities; he saw their 

 forts, their ships, their great guns, steamboats, balloons, &c, and in the spring re- 

 turned to Saint Louis, where I joined him and his companions on their way back to 

 their own country. 



" Through the politeness of Mr. Chouteau, of the American Fur Company, I was ad- 

 mitted (the only passenger except Major Sanford and his Indians) to a passage in 

 their steamboat on her first trip to the Yellowstone; and when I had embarked and 

 the boat was about to depart, Wi-jun-jon made his appearance on deck in a full suit 

 of regimentals! He had in Washington exchanged his beautifully garnished and 

 classic costume for a full dress en militaire (see Plate 272). It was, perhaps, pre- 

 senred to him by the President. It was broadcloth of the finest blue, trimmed with 

 lace of gold. On his shoulders were mounted two immense epaulettes ; his neck was 

 strangled with a shining black stock, and his feet were pinioned in a pair of water- 

 proof boots with high heels, which made him ' step like a yoked hog.' 



" ' Ha-ha-bagh (pardon, Monsieur Cataline, for I am almost laugh) — well, he was a 

 fine gentleman, ha? ; 



" On his head was a high-crowned beaver hat, with a broad silver lace band, sur- 

 mounted by a huge red feather, some two feet high ; his coat collar, stiff with lace, 

 came higher up than his ears, and over it flowed, down towards his haunches, his 

 long Indian locks, stuck up in rolls and plaits, with red paint. 



" ' Ha-ha-hagh-agh-ah.' 



" Hold your tongue, Ba'tiste. 



" ' Well, go on— go on.' 



"A large silver medal was suspended from his neck by a blue ribbon, and across 

 his right shoulder passed a wide belt, supporting by his side a broadsword. 



"'Diable!' 



"On his hands he had drawn a pair of white kid gloves, and in them held, a blue 

 umbrella in one, and a large fan in the other. In this fashion was poor Wi-jun-jon 



