THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 521 



whose grief was inconsolable at the thought of having been herself the immediate 

 and innocent cause of his death, by depriving him of his supposed protection. 



" This marvelous and fatal transaction was soon talked through the village, and 

 the eyes of all this superstitious multitude were fixed upon me as the cause of the 

 calamity. My paintings and brushes were instantly packed, and all hands, both 

 traders and travelers, assumed at once a posture of defense. 



"I evaded, no doubt, in a great measure, the concentration of their immediate cen- 

 sure upon me, by expressions of great condolence, and by distributing liberal pres- 

 ents to the wife and relations of the deceased, and by uniting also with Mr. Laidlaw 

 and the other gentlemen in giving him honorable burial, where we placed over hia 

 grave a handsome Sioux lodge and hung a white flag to wave over it. 



" On this occasion many were the tears that were shed for the brave and honorable 

 Mah-to-tchee-ga, and all the warriors of his band swore sleepless vengeance on the 

 Dog, until his life should answer for the loss of their chief and leader. 



"On the day that he was buried I started for the mouth of Yellowstone, and while 

 I was gone the spirit of vengeance had pervaded nearly all the Sioux country in 

 search of the Dog, who had evaded pursuit. His brother, however (Plate 274), a 

 noble and honorable fellow, esteemed by all who knew him, fell in their way in an 

 unlucky hour, when their thirst for vengeance was irresistible, and they slew him. 

 Repentance deep and grief were the result of so rash an act when they beheld a 

 brave and worthy man fall for so worthless a character ; and as they became exas- 

 perated, the spirit of revenge grew more desperate than ever, and they swore they 

 never would lay down their arms or embrace their wives and children until ven- 

 geance, full and complete, should light upon the head that deserved it. This brings 

 us again to the first part of my story, and in this state were things in that part of 

 the country when I was descending the river, four months afterwards, and landed 

 my canoe, as I before stated, at Laidlaw's trading-house. 



"The excitement had been kept up all summer amongst these people, and their 

 superstitions bloated to the full brim, from circumstances so well calculated to feed 

 and increase them. Many of them looked to me at once as the author of all these 

 disasters, considering I knew that one-half of the man's face was good for nothing 

 or that I would not have left it out of the picture, and that I must therefore have 

 foreknown the evils that were to flow from the omission. They consequently resolved 

 that I was a dangerous man and should suffer for my temerity in case the Dog could 

 not be found. Councils had been held, and in all the solemnity of Indian medicine 

 and mystery I had been doomed to die. At one of these a young warrior of the 

 Onc-pa-pa band arose and said: 'The blood of two chiefs has just sunk into the 

 ground, and a hundred bows are bent which are ready to shed more. On whom 

 shall we bend them ? I am a friend to the white men, but here is one whose medicine 

 is too great. He is a great medicine-man ; his medicine is too great. He was the death 

 of Mah-to-tchee-ga ; he made only one side of his face ; he would not make the other; 

 the side that he made was alive; the other was dead, and Shon-ka shot it off. How 

 is this? Who is to die?' 



"After him, Tah-zee-Tcee-da-cha (Torn Belly), of the Yankton band, arose and said: 

 'Father, this medicine-man has done much harm. You told our chiefs and warriors 

 that they must be painted ; you said he was a good man, and we believed you; you 

 thought so, my father, but you see what he has done! He looks at our chiefs and our 

 women and then makes them alive. In this way he has taken our chiefs away, and 

 he can trouble their spirits when they are dead. They will be unhappy. If he can 

 make them alive by looking at. them, he can do us much harm. You tell us that they 

 are not alive. We see their eyes move ; their eyes follow us wherever we go ; that is 

 enough. I have no more to say.' After him rose a young man of the Onc-pa-pa 

 band. 'Father, you know that I am the brother of Mah-to-tchee-ga. You know 

 that I loved him. Both sides of his face were good, and the medicine-man knew it 

 also. Why was half his face left out ? He never was ashamed, but always looked 



