Their chief, Black Moccasin, who treated Lewis and Clarke with great kindness, when they crossed the Rocky Mountains, in 1819, was still living when Catlin was among them, though probably more than a hundred years old. Lewis and Clarke constituted him chief of the tribe, and such has he been ever since. He remembered and inquired very earnestly after Red Hair and Long Knife, as he called those officers, from the fact that one had red hair and the other wore a broadsword. The Minetarees are a bold and daring tribe, often carrying war into their enemies’ country, and thus greatly diminishing their numbers.
Mr. Catlin gives an account of the following scene which occurred while he was with this tribe. “The sensation I created,” says he, “among the Minetarees, while on the Upper Missouri, by taking from amongst my painting apparatus an old number of the New York Commercial Advertiser, edited by my kind and tried friend, Colonel Stone, was extraordinary. The Minetarees thought that I was mad, when they saw me, for hours together, with my eyes fixed upon its pages. They had different and various conjectures about it; the most current of which was, that I was looking at it to cure my sore eyes, and they called it ‘the medicine-cloth for sore eyes.’ I, at length, put an end to this and several equally ignorant conjectures, by reading passages in it, which were interpreted to them, and the object of the paper fully explained; after which, it was looked upon as a much greater mystery than before, and several liberal offers were made me for it, which I was obliged to refuse, having already received a beautifully garnished robe for it from the hands of a young son of Esculapius, who told me, if he could employ a good interpreter to explain every thing in it, he could travel amongst the Minetarees, and Mandans, and Sioux, and exhibit it after I was gone, getting rich with presents, and adding greatly to his list of medicines, as it would make him a great medicine-man. I left with the poor fellow his painted robe and the newspaper; and just before I departed, I saw him unfold it to show some of his friends, when he took from around it some eight or ten folds of birch-bark and deer-skins, all of which were carefully enclosed in a sack made of the skin of a polecat, and undoubtedly destined to become, and to be called, his mystery or medicine-bag.”
The Ricarees are esteemed a part of the tribe of the Pawnees, as their language is nearly the same. They received Lewis and Clarke with great cordiality; but, owing to the abuses which they have suffered from the traders, they now harbour the most inveterate feelings of hostility towards the whole civilized race.
We come now to the Mandans, a tribe, a few years since, numbering about two thousand, but who are said to be now extinct. They appear to have been a remarkable and peculiar people, differing greatly from most other Indians. The impression has prevailed among many individuals who became acquainted with them, that they were the descendants of Madoc, the Welsh chief, who is supposed to have landed on the coast with a colony. This opinion is sustained by Mr. Catlin, who has given a full and interesting account of the peculiarities of the nation. He claims to have traced them up from the banks of the Ohio to their last residence, where he found them. In support of his views, he urges that there is a diversity of complexion among them, some being dark, and some light; that blue and gray eyes are often met with; and that striking resemblances to the Welsh, in language, manners, and customs, are to be found.
The Four Bears.
Dr. Morse, in his Indian Report, tells us that he was informed by a French priest at Detroit, that, in 1793, he was told at Fort Chartres, that twelve years before, Captain Lord, who commanded at this post, had heard some of the old people observe, that the Mandan Indians, who visited the post, could converse intelligibly with some Welsh soldiers in the British army. It is to be regretted that more attention was not devoted to the solution of this interesting question, before the last remnant of this people had become extinct. The account which Mr. Catlin gives of their warriors shows that there were many valiant men among them. The robe of one of their chiefs, called Mah-to-toh-pa, or the Four Bears, by means of its pictured records, set forth that he had been engaged in numerous encounters with the Sioux, Chiens, Ricarees, and Assinniboins. The following is the substance of his adventures. His brother having been killed by a noted Ricaree brave, whose spear was found in his body, he drew out the lance and kept it four years, with the blood dried on its blade. He then, according to an oath he had taken, prepared to avenge his brother’s death, with the spear by which he had fallen. Sallying forth, he brandished the weapon through the village, uttering these words:—“Let every Mandan be silent! Let no one sound the name of Mah-to-toh-pa; let no one ask for him, nor where he is gone, until you hear him sound the war-cry in front of the village; he will then enter it, and show you the blood of Won-ga-tap. The blade of this lance shall drink the heart’s blood of Won-ga-tap, or Mah-to-toh-pa shall mingle his shadow with that of his brother!”
He then directed his course toward the Ricaree village. When he approached it, he loitered about the wigwam of his destined victim, and, looking through the chinks, observed him smoking his last pipe. He saw him retire to bed. The village was silent, and wrapt in darkness. He now crept softly into the lodge, and seated himself by the fire, where he satisfied his appetite from the contents of a pot hanging over it; he then lighted his pipe, after which, stirring up the embers until he clearly saw his way, with lance in hand, he rose and drove it through the body of his enemy. Snatching his scalp from his head, he now darted from the lodge, and hurried across the prairie. The whole village was roused, but no one knew who had dealt the blow. He ran all night, and lay by during the day. On the sixth morning, at sunrise, he entered his village, showing the blood of his victim dried upon his spear, over that of his brother, while the scalp was suspended from the handle of the weapon.
On a certain occasion, a band of one hundred and fifty Chien warriors made an assault on the Mandan village at early dawn, drove off a number of horses, and took one scalp. Mah-to-toh-pa, though a young man, yet, as one of the most valiant of his tribe, pursued with a party of fifty. About noon of the second day, they came in sight of the enemy. Finding them more numerous than was imagined, the Mandans were about to return, when their young leader galloped out in front, and, after wheeling in a circuit, plunged his lance into the ground. The blade was driven up to the hilt. He then made another circuit, tore from his breast his red sash, and hung it on the lance as a flag. He now called out to the retreating Mandans, “What! have we come to this? Have we dogged the enemy three days, and found them, now to go back like cowards? Mah-to-toh-pa’s lance, which is red with the blood of brave men, has led you to the sight of your enemy; it now stands firm in the ground, where the earth will drink its owner’s blood; you may all go back, and Mah-to-toh-pa will fight these warriors alone.”
The Chiens had now turned back to give the Mandans battle, and their leader, admiring the gallant conduct of Mah-lo-toh-pa, galloped forward within hailing distance, and demanded who it was that had thus stuck down his lance, and alone defied his enemies? The answer was, “I am Mah-to-toh-pa, the second in command of the brave and valiant Mandans!” The Chien chief then said, “I have heard often of Mah-to-toh-pa; he is a great warrior. Dares he come forward and fight with me alone, while our warriors look on?” “Is he a chief who speaks to Mah-to-toh-pa?“ was the reply. The Chien answered, “My scalps you see hanging to my horse’s bits; and here is my lance, with the ermine-skins and the war-eagle’s tail.” “It is enough,” said Mah-to-toh-pa.