634 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



"Having finished my visit to this veteran and his son, I mounted my horse, and tak- 

 ing leave followed an Indian trail to the town of Saint Charles, some 30 or 40 miles be- 

 low, on the north banks of the Missouri. I here visited some old friends with whom I 

 had become acquainted on the lower Mississippi in former years, and intending to descend 

 the river from there to Saint Louis by a boat had sold my horse when I arrived there. 

 Before I was ready to embark, however, an old friend of mine, Lieutenant Pike, who had 

 just returned from his exploring expedition to the Rocky Mountains, had passed up from 

 Saint Louis to a small settlement formed on the east bank of the Mississippi, and a few 

 miles below the mouth of the Missouri, to attend a wedding which was to take place on 

 the very evening*that I had received the information of it, and like himself, being inti- 

 mately acquainted with the young man who was to be married, I resolved to be present 

 if possible, though I had had no invitation to attend, it not being known to the parties 

 that I was in that part of the country. The spot where the wedding was to take place 

 being on the bank of the river, and on my route to Saint Louis, I endeavored to procure 

 a canoe for the purpose, but not being able to get such a thing in Saint Charles at that time 

 for love or money, and still resolved to be at the wedding, I succeeded in rolling a couple 

 of large logs in the stream, which laid upon the shore in front of the village, and lashing 

 them firmly together, took a paddle from the first b^at that I could meet, and seating 

 myself astride of the two logs I pushed off into the muddy current of the Missouri, and 

 was soon swept away out of sight of the town of Saint Charles. My embarkation was a 

 little before sundown, and having 15 or 20 miles to float before I should be upon the 

 waters of the Mississippi, I was in the midst of my journey overtaken by night, and had 

 to navigate my floating logs as well as I could among the snags and sandbars that fell in 

 my way. I was lucky, however, in escaping them all, though I sometimes grazed them 

 as I passed, and within a few inches of being hurled to destruction. I at length entered 

 the broad waters of the Mississippi, and a few miles below on theleft bank saw the light 

 in the cabins in which the merry circle of my friends were assembled, and with all my 

 might was plying my paddle to propel my two logs to -the shore. 



"In the midst of my hard struggle I discovered several objects on my right and ahead 

 of me, which seemed to be rapidly approaching me, and I concluded that I was drifting 

 onto rocks or snags that were in a moment to destroy me. But in an instant one of 

 these supposed snags silently shot along by the side of my logs, and being a canoe with 

 four Indians in it, and all with their bows and war-clubs drawn upon me, they gave the 

 signal for silence, as one of them, a tall, long-armed, and powerful man, seized me by 

 the collar. Having partially learned several of the languages of the Indian tribes bor- 

 dering on the Mississippi, I understood him as he said in the Ioway language, ' Not a 

 word ! if you speak you die ! ' At that moment a dozen or more canoes were all drawn 

 close around my two logs of wood, astride of which I sat, with my legs in the water up 

 to my knees. These canoes were all filled with warriors with their weapons'in their 

 hands, and no women being with them, I saw they were a war party, and preparing for 

 some mischief. Finding that I understood their language and could speak a few words with 

 them, the warrior who still held me by the collar made a sign to the other canoes to fall 

 back a little while he addressed me in a low voice. c Do you know the white chief who 

 is visiting his friends this night on the bank yonder where we see the lights ? ' to which 

 I replied ' Yes, he is an old friend of mine. ' ' Well ' said he, ' he dies to-night, and all 

 those wigwams are to be laid in ashes. Stet-e-no-ha was a cousin of mine, and Que-tun-ka 

 was a good man, and a friend to the white people. The pale faces hung them like two 

 dogs by their necks, and the life of your friend, the white warrior, pays the forfeit this 

 night, and many may be the women and children who will die by his side ! ' I explained 

 to him as well as I could that my friend, Lieutenant Pike, had had no hand in the execu- 

 tion of the two Indians; that they were hung below Saint Louis when Lieutenant Pike 

 was on his way home from the Rocky Mountains. I told him also that Lieutenant Pike 

 was a great friend of the Indians, and would do anything to aid or please them; that he 



