596 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



THE INTERPRETER. 



This talk, which was short, was ended here, to the satisfaction of all parties, and 

 the Indians were again amusing themselves around the room, leaving the wigwam 

 and further conversations to Mr. Melody, the interpreter, and myself. Mr. Melody, 

 though a stranger to me, bearing the high recommendations contained in the letter of 

 the Secretary at War, already published, at once had my confidence (which I am 

 pleased to say his conduct has kept up) as an excellent and honest man. 



Their interpreter, Jeffrey Doraway (a mulatto), and who had been one of the fir&t 

 to recognize and hail me when I entered their rooms, had been an old and attached 

 acquaintance of mine while traveling in that country, and that acquaintance had 

 several times been renewed in Saint Louis and New York and at other places where 

 I had subsequently met him. He had been raised from childhood in the tribe, and 

 the chiefs and all the party were very much attached to him, and his interest seemed 

 to be wholly identified with that of the tribe. He was of a most forbearing and pa- 

 tient disposition, and of temperate habits, and as he was loved by the chiefs, had great 

 influence with them, and control over the party. 



I related to Mr. Melody and Jeffrey the difficulties that laid before us ; the preju- 

 dices raised in the public mind by the conduct of Mr. Rankin with his party of Ojib- 

 beways, and the unfortunate season of the year at which they had arrived in London. 

 That the middle of July was the very worst season in which to open an exhibition, and 

 that it might be difficult to raise a second excitement sufficiently strong to pay the 

 very heavy expenses we must incur. * * * 



THE DOCTOR ON THE ROOF OF THE HALL. 



Finishing our conversation here, we found the Indians adjusting their plurnes, and 

 their robes, and their weapons, preparing to step into their " omnibus and four," to 

 take their first rapid glance at the great city of London, in " a drive," which was to 

 pass them through some of its principal thoroughfares for their amusement. At this 

 moment of excitement it was suddenly aunounced that one of the party (and a very 

 essential one), the doctor (or medicine-man) was missing! Search was everywhere 

 making for him, and when it was quite certain that he could not have passed iutothe 

 street, Jeffrey inquired of the curator of the hall if there was any passage that led out 

 upon the roof, to which the curator replied, "l^es." " Well then," said Jeffrey, " we 

 may be sure that he is there, for it is a way that he has ; he always is uneasy until he 

 gets as high as he can go, and then he will stay there all night if you will let him 

 alone." I went immediately to the roof, and found him standing on one corner of the 

 parapet, overlooking Piccadilly — wrapped in his buffalo robe and still as a statue, 

 while thousands were assembling in the streets to look at him, and to warn him of 

 the danger they supposed him in. 



The readers who have not had the pleasure of seeing this eccentric character will 

 scarcely be able to appreciate the oddity of this freak until they become better ac- 

 quainted with the doctor in the following pages. I invited him down from his ele- 

 vated position, which he seemed reluctant to leave, and he joined his party, who 

 passed into their carriage at the door. In this moment of confusion, of escaping from 

 the crowd and closing the door, heads were counted, and the old doctor was missing 

 again. A moment's observation showed, however, that his ascending propensity had 

 gained him a position over their heads, as he had seated himself by the side of the 

 driver, with his buffalo robe wrapped about him, the long and glistening blade of his 

 spear passing out from underneath it, near to his left ear, and his vermilioned face 

 surmounted by a huge pair of buffalo horns, rising out of a crest of eagle's quills and 

 ermine skins. Thus loaded, and at the crack of the whip, and amidst the yelling 

 multitude that had gathered around them, did the fourteen Iowas dash into the 

 streets, to open their eyes to the sights and scenes of the great metropolis. 



