216 
FORE ST A ND STREAM; 
[Sept. io, 1904. 
MANDAN DANCING FOR THE COMING OF THE BUFFALO. 
From Catlin's "Letters on the North American Indians." 
and snorting, hauling a travaille loaded with a bag of 
flour, cabbages, turnips, onions, a small keg of water, and 
a large kettle of broth. Michel Langlois, who is master 
of the band, now comes on leading a horse that draws a 
travaille nicely covered with a new painted tent, under 
which his daughter and Mrs. Cameron lie at full length, 
very sick; this covering or canopy has a pretty effect in 
the caravan, and appears at a great distance in the plains. 
Madame Langlois brings up the rear of the human be- 
ings, following the travaille with a slow step and melan- 
choly air, attending to the wants of her daughter, who, 
notwithstanding her sickness, can find no other expres- 
sions of gratitude to her parents than by calling them 
dogs, fools, beasts, etc. The rear-guard consists of a long- 
train of twenty dogs, some for sleighs, some for game, 
and others for no use whatever, except to snarl and 
destroy meat. The total forms a procession nearly a mile 
long, and appears like a large band of Assinaboines." 
Early in November Henry went over to the Hair Hills. 
In March, on a journey from the Hair Hills to his home, 
he mentions he traveled in the night always, preferring 
to do so at this season of the year, partly to avoid snow 
blindness, and partly because the cold of the night makes 
travel easier than during the day, when the snow is 
melted and soft, and dogs and sledges sink deep into it. 
In April, when he was chasing buffalo, he came near 
leaving his bones in the plains, a prey for the wolves. 
"This was occasioned by my horse stumbling while at full 
speed. I was just drawing my gun from the belt to fire, 
holding it by the barrel, near the muzzle, when the sudden 
shock caused the priming to fire the gun; the ball passed 
near my hip and struck in the ground, and the gun flew 
some distance. I was in the midst of the herd; a fine 
large calf passing near me, I dismounted, caught him by 
the tail, and held him fast; he began to bleat, when in- 
stantly the mother turned and rushed at me:; I was gladl 
to let go and run to my. horse. As I reflected on my 
narrow escape, it brought to my mind a similar _ affair 
which happened to me some years ago at Michipicoten, 
when shooting wildfowl in the spring, in a small canoe. 
In attempting to remove my gun from my left to my right 
side, passing the muzzle behind my back, the cock got fast 
in one of the bars, and, on my pulling the gun forward 
from behind me, she went off ; the load grazed my right 
side, taking a piece of my belt and capot away." 
In April he bought a beautiful white buffalo skin; the 
hair was long, soft, and perfectly white, resembling a 
sheep's fleece. Early in May extraordinary numbers of 
wild pigeons were seen, and the Indian women were pre- 
paring the ground for their farming. With the summer 
came the usual packing of the furs, and the journey to 
Kamanistiquia. The return journey was a short one, and 
Henry reached the Panbian River early in September. 
In October he writes, as showing the excellence of his 
horse, that one day he ran an elk five miles before killing 
it ; then chased a hare, which he killed after a long pur- 
suit; and finally, toward evening, he ran a herd of buffalo, 
and killed a fat cow for supper. Besides these long races, 
he had covered about thirty-six miles of travel. 
This winter, because he refused to give credit to an 
Indian for a blanket, Henry was twice shot at, but missed. 
On his return to his post that summer, he learned of an at- 
tack on a small camp of his Indians by Sioux a month 
earlier. This is the story as Henry gives it, and it may be 
retold because it illustrates Indian modes: "My beaupere 
(father-in-law) was the first man that fell, about eight 
o'clock in the morning. He had climbed a tree to see if 
the buffalo were at hand, as they were tented there to 
make dried provisions. He had no sooner reached the top 
than two Sioux discoverers fired at the same moment, 
and both balls passed through his body. He had only time 
to call out to his family, who were in the tent, about a 
hundred paces from him, 'Save yourselves, the Sioux are 
killing us !' and fell dead to the ground, his body break- 
ing several branches of the tree as it dropped. The noise 
brought the Indians out of the tent, when, perceiving 
their danger, the women and children instantly ran 
through the plains toward an island of wood on Tongue 
River, about a mile distant, and on a direct line toward 
the fort. The men took their arms and made off also, 
keeping in the rear of their women and children, whom 
they urged on. The four surviving men had not gone 
more than a quarter of a mile when they saw the main 
body of the war party, on horseback, rushing down upon 
them. Crossing Tongue River, and in a few moments 
coming up with them, the Sioux began to fire. The four 
men, by expert maneuvers and incessant fire, prevented 
the enemy from closing in on them, while the women 
and/ children continued to fly, and the men followed. 
They were within about two hundred paces of the wood, 
and some of the most active had actually entered it, when 
the enemy surrounded and fell upon them. Three of the 
Salteurs fled in different directions ; Grand Gueule escaped 
before they were completely surrounded, but the other 
two were killed. One who remained to protect the women 
and children was a brave fellow— Aceguemanche, or Lit- 
tle Chief ; he waited deliberately until the enemy came 
very near, when he fired at one who appeared to be a 
' chief, and knocked the Sioux from his horse. Three 
'young girls and a boy. were taken prisoners; the remam- 
- der were all murdered and mutilated in a horrible man- 
ner. Several women and children had escaped in the 
'woods, where the enemy chased them on horseback, but 
: the willows and brush were so intricate that every one of 
these escaped. A boy about twelve years old, whom the 
Sioux pursued, crawled into a hollow under a branch of 
willows, which a horseman leaped over without perceiving 
him. One of the little girls who escaped tells a pitiful 
I story of her mother, who was killed. This woman, having 
: two young children that could not walk fast enough, had 
taken one of them on her back and prevailed upon her 
; sister-in-law to carry the other ; but when they got near 
I the woods, and the enemy' rushed Upon them with hideous 
yells and war-whoops, the young woman was so fright- 
: ened that she threw down the child and soon overtook the 
^mother, who, observing that the child was missing, and 
Tiearing its screams, kissed her little daughter— the one 
who relates the -story— saying, with tears streaming from 
her eyes : 'Take courage, my daughter ; try to reach the 
woods, and if you do, go to your eldest sister, who will 
• be kind to you ; I must turn back and recover your 
youngest sister, or die in the attempt. Take courage ; run 
■fast, my daughter!' Poor woman! She actually did re- 
cover her child, and was running off with both children, 
when she was felled to the ground by a blow on the head 
with a war-club. She recovered instantly, drew her knife, 
and plunged it into the neck of her murderer; but others 
coming up, she was despatched. Thus my belle mere 
ended her days." 
This same story is told by Tanner, who was then an 
Indian captive, living with the Chippewas. Tanner even 
mentions Henry's name, and speaks of his father-in-law 
having been killed. The Salteurs were determined to 
avenge ithe death of their relations, and Henry furnished 
them with ammunition for their war journey. Later, he 
visited the battlefield and the Sioux camp, and judged from 
the sign that theremust have been about three hundred men 
in the Sioux party. In October the remains of the 
Sioux killed by Little Chief were discovered by some 
of the Indians ; and the certainty that their enemies had 
met one loss was some satisfaction to the Salteurs. 
Although Henry had made an - agreement with Mr. 
Miller, an agent of the Hudson's Bay Company, by which 
the rum to be given to the Indians should be limited, the 
winter did not pass without deaths due to drinking. One 
of these was an accident where a drunken Indian knocked 
down a gun which, exploding, killed one of Henry's men, 
who was lying on a bed in the next room. The profits for 
the season's work in 1805 and '06, as given in Henry's 
diary, are nearly three thousand five hundred pounds. 
Early in July, 1806, after his return from down the 
river, Henry made preparations to set off on a tour to 
the southwest, to the country of the Mandans? who then, 
as now, lived on the Missouri River. There had been 
heavy rains, and the plains of the Red River were covered 
with water, or else were so muddy that travel was slow 
and exceedingly laborious. The horses often sank up to 
their knees in mud, and at times had water up to their 
bellies, while the little rivulets which they crossed they 
were obliged to swim, carrying on their heads such arti- 
cles as they wished to keep dry. Mosquitoes were a 
veritable plague, and Henry had prepared a mask of thin 
dressed caribou skin, which in some measure protected 
him; but those who were not provided with some defense 
suffered terribly. Only when the wind blew was there any 
relief from the pests. They were more than once obliged 
to make rafts, and when they were naked, hauling the 
raft back and forth, they had no defense against the mos- 
quitoes. The horses suffered as much as the men. 
The final start for the Mandans was from the establish- 
ment on Mouse River, and the party consisted of seven 
persons, of whom one was a Salteur, a brother-in-law of 
Chaboillez, who had undertaken to guide the party to the 
Mandans. It was midsummer, and they traveled west- 
southwest over delightful prairies, where antelope were 
exceedingly abundant. After crossing Mouse River, they 
found buffalo in great plenty, and all in motion, from 
east to west. It was the rutting season, and the herds 
were noisy and excited. On the 18th of July, as they 
^vere crossing the high Missouri plains, they came in sight 
of the buttes, called Maison du Chien, now commonly 
known as the Dogden Buttes. This is one of the great 
landmarks of the country, and many stirring adventures 
have taken place within sight of it. A little later they 
could see the high red banks of the Missouri before 
them, a long way off. When they reached the Missouri, 
they found plenty of tracks of people there, and an 
abundance of last year's corncobs. The winter village of 
the Minitaris was near. A well-defined trail led down 
the river, and they were several times in danger of break- 
ing their necks in deep pits, which the natives had dug in 
the path to catch wolves and foxes in winter. Some of 
these were ten feet deep, and hollowed out in places to 
about thirty feet in circumference, while the entrance was 
no wider than a foot-path, and about five feet in length. 
"These holes are covered with dried grass, at the season 
when the wolves are caught, and every morning are found 
to contain some of those animals. In summer the grass 
grows strong and high about the mouths, entirely conceal- 
ing them until one arrives upon the very brink, and he is 
in danger of tumbling in headlong." Down the river 
about five miles they came to a Mandan village. The 
people received them pleasantly, and the Black Cat, the 
chief, took them to one of his houses, which was kept for 
strangers. The people were desirous to trade, and could 
not understand why the white men should have come so 
far out of mere curiosity. As usual in these permanent 
villages of earth lodges, the horses at night were confined 
in one part of the lodge while the people slept in the other. 
The Mandans had large earthen pots of different sizes, 
from five gallons to one quart, used solely for boiling corn 
and beans. The Black Cat was told the next day by a 
Canadian who lived in the neighboring Mandan village, 
who his visitors were, and at once brought out the Ameri- 
can flag, given him in the autumn of 1804 by Captains 
Lewis and Clark, and hoisted it over the hut in which the 
strangers were staying. When they were about to cross 
the river and go to the opposite village, they packed up 
such goods as they had, and the few things they had pur- 
chased, chiefly provisions, and gave them into the care of 
the chief. "These people are much given to thieving, but 
in the hut in which a stranger is lodged his property may 
be left in perfect security; none dare touch it, as the mas- 
ter conceives his honor concerned in whatever is placed 
under his immediate protection. Out of doors, if they can 
pick your pocket or pilfer any article, it is gone in an 
instant, and search would be in vain; every one would 
wish to appear innocent, although they are not offended 
when accused of stealing, but laugh the matter away." 
Henry and his people crossed the river in bull-boats, 
and were well received at the other Mandan village. He 
noted the expertness of the young men in getting the horses 
across, one swimming ahead with the rope in his teeth, 
while others swam on each side, and in the rear, driving 
each horse very rapidly. He also saw the bull-boats, which 
were evidently a new vessel to him. They had hardly 
reached the village when there came in some Pawness 
from down the river on an embassy to treat for peace. 
They could not speak the language either of the Mandans 
or the Minitaris, but they talked freely in signs; and this 
From Catlin's 
A MANDAN HORSE RACE. 
'Letters on the North American Indians." 
