518 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



[Letter from Red Pipe-Stone Quarry, Coteau Des Prairies, 1836.1 

 THE STORY OF THE DOG— CONTINUED. 



Well, to proceed with the story of the Dog : 



" I think I said that my little canoe had brought us down the Missouri about S00 

 miles below the mouth of Yellowstone, when we landed at Laidlaw's trading-house, 

 which is 1,200 miles above civilization and the city of Saint Louis. If I did not say 

 it, it is no matter, for it was even so ; and 'Ba'tiste and Bogard, who had paddled, and 

 I,' who had steered,' threw our little bark out upon the bank, and taking our paddles 

 in our hands and our plunder upon our backs crossed the plain to the American Fur 

 Company's fort, in charge of Mr. Laidlaw, who gave us a hearty welcome, and placed 

 us in an instant at his table, which happened at that moment to be stationed in the 

 middle of the floor, distributing to its surrounding guests the simple blessings which 

 belong to that fair and silent land of buffalo tongues and beavers' tails. A bottle of 

 o-ood Madeira wine sprung (a l'instant) upon the corner of the table before us, and 

 swore, point blank, to the welcome that was expressed in every feature of our host. 

 After the usual salutations, the news, and a glass of wine, Mr. Laidlaw began thus : 

 'Well, my friend, you have got along well so far, and I am glad to see you. You 

 have seen a great many fine Indians since you left here, and have, no doubt, procured 

 many interesting and valuable portraits ; but there has been a deal of trouble about 

 the pictures in this neighborhood since you went away. Of course you have heard 

 nothing of it at the Yellowstone, but amongst us, I assure you, there has not a day 

 passedlince you left without some fuss or excitement about the portraits. The Dog 

 is not yet dead, though he has been shot at several times and had his left arm broken. 

 The Little Bear's friends have overtaken the brother of the Dog, that fine fellow whom 

 you painted, and killed him. They are now sensible that they have sacrificed one of 

 the best men in the nation for one of the greatest rascals, and they are more desper- 

 ately bent on revenge than ever. They have made frequent inquiries for you, know- 

 ing that you had gone up the river, alleging that you had been the cause of these 

 deaths, and that if the Dog could not be found they should look to you for a settle- 

 ment of that unfortunate affair. 



" 'That unlucky business, taken altogether, has been the greatest piece of medicine 

 (mystery) and created the greatest excitement amongst the Sioux of anything that 

 has happened since I came into the country. 



" About four months previous to the moment I am now speaking of, I had passed 

 up the Missouri River by this place, on the steamboat Yellowstone, on which I 

 ascended the Missouri to the mouth of Yellowstone River. While going up, this boat, 

 having on board the United States Indian agent, Major Sanford, Messrs. Pierre, Chou- 

 teau, McKenzie, of the American Fur Company, and myself, as passengers, stopped 

 at this trading-post and remained several weeks, where we assembled six hundred 

 families of Sioux Indians, their tents being pitched in close order on an extensive 

 prairie on the bank of the river. 



"They had assembled to see the steamboat and meet the Indian agent, which and 

 whom they knew were to arrive about this time. During the few weeks that we re- 

 mained there I was busily engaged painting my portraits, for here were assembled 

 the principal chiefs and medicine-men of the nation. To these people the operations 

 of my brush were entirely new and unaccountable, and excited amongst them the 

 greatest curiosity imaginable. Everything else (even the steamboat) was aban- 

 doned for the pleasure of crowding into my painting-room, and witnessing the result 

 of each fellow's success as he came out from under the operation of my brush. 



"They had been at first much afraid of the consequences that might flow from so 



