494 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



BEATTE, THE HUNTER. 



Beatte lived in this village with his aged parents, to whom he introduced me, and 

 with whom, altogether, I spent a very pleasant evening in conversation. They are 

 hoth French, and have spent the greater part of their lives with the Osages, and seem 

 to be familiar with their whole history. This Beatte was the hunter and guide for a 

 party of rangers the summer before our campaign, with whom Washington Irving 

 made his excursion to the borders of the Pawnee country, and of whose extraordinary 

 character and powers Mr. Irving has drawn a very jnst and glowing account, except- 

 ing one error, which I think he has inadvertently fallen into, that of calling him a 

 half-breed. Beatte had complained of this to me often while out on the prairies, and 

 when I entered his hospitable cabin he said he was glad to see me, and almost in- 

 stantly continued, "Now, you shall see, Monsieur Catline, I am not half-breed; here 

 I shall introduce you to my father and my mother, who, you see, are two very nice 

 and good old French people." 



From this cabin, where I fared well and slept soundly, I started in the morning, 

 after taking with them a good cup of coffee, and went smoothly on over the prairies 

 on my course. 



MEETS CAPT. WTIARTON'S SUPPOSED CORPSE OX KIGKAPOO PRAIRIE. 



About the middle of my journey I struck a road leading into a small civilized set. 

 tlement, called the Kickapoo Frairio, to which I "bent my course," and, riding up 

 to a log cabin, which was kept as a sort of a hotel or tavern, I met at the door the 

 black boy belonging to my friend Captain Wharton, who, I have said, took his leave 

 of Fort Gibson a few weeks before me. I asked the boy where his master was; to 

 which he replied, "My good massa, Massa Wharton in dese house; just dead ob de 

 libber complimeut." I dismounted and went in, and, to my deepest sorrow and an- 

 guish, I found him, as the boy said, nearly dead, without power to raise his head or 

 his voice ; his eyes were rolled upon me, and, as he recognized me, he took me by the 

 hand, which ho firmly griped, whilst both shed tears in profusion. By placing my 

 ear to his lips his whispers could be heard, and he was able, in an imperfect manner, 

 to make his views and his wishes known. His disease seemed to be a repeated attack 

 of his former malady and a severe affection of the liver, which was to be (as his phy- 

 sician said) the proximate cause of his death. I conversed with his physician, who 

 seemed to be a young and inexperienced man, who told me that he certainly could 

 not live more than ten days. I staid two days with him, and having no means with 

 me of rendering him pecuniary or other aid amongst strangers, I left him in kind 

 hands, and started on my course again. 



RESUMES HIS JOURNEY. 



My health improved daily from the time of my setting out at Fort Gibson, and I 

 was now moving along cheerfully and in hopes soon to reach the end of my toilsome 

 journey. I had yet vast prairies to pass over, and occasional latent difficulties, 

 which were not apparent on their smooth and deceiving surfaces. Deep, sunken 

 streams, like ditches, occasionally presented themselves suddenly to my view when I 

 was within a few steps of plunging into them from their perpendicular sides, which 

 were overhung with long wild grass and almost obscured from the sight. The bear- 

 ings of my compass told me that I must cross them, and the only alternative was to 

 plunge into them and get out as well as I could. They were often muddy, and I could 

 not tell whether they were three or ten feet deep until my horse was in them, and 

 sometimes ho went down head foremost, and I with him, to scramble out on the oppo- 

 site shore in the best condition we could. In one of these canals, which I had followed 

 for several miles in the vain hope of finding a shoal or an accustomed ford, I plunged 

 in with Charley where it was about six or eight yards wide and God knows how 

 deep, for we did not go to the bottom, and swam him to the opposite bank, onto 



