The Chien chief, mounted on a fierce white horse, now made a circuit at full gallop, and stuck his lance into the ground, leaving it standing by the side of Mah-to-toh-pa’s, and with a red flag also waving from it. They now drew near each other, and discharged their guns. They then passed each other, and, as they wheeled, Mah-to-toh-pa held up his powder-horn, and showed his antagonist that a bullet had shattered it in pieces. He then threw aside his firelock, drew out his bow and an arrow, and hung his shield on his left arm. The Chien did the same, and both dashed on, sending their whizzing shafts at each other in quick succession. Mah-to-toh-pa’s horse received an arrow through the heart, and fell to the ground. The rider sprang to his feet, and was instantly prepared for his antagonist. The Chien dismounted, drove back his horse, and presented his shield, inviting the Mandan to come on. After a few shots from the bow, the Chien held up his empty quiver, and, dashing it with his bow and shield to the ground, drew his knife, and brandished it aloft in air. “Yes!” cried out Mah-to-toh-pa, exultingly, throwing away also his quiver and shield; but, on feeling for his blade, it was missing,—he had not brought it in his belt! He had only his bow in hand, but with this he parried the blows of his assailant, and at last struck him to the ground. After a desperate struggle for the knife, in which the blade was several times drawn through Mah-to-toh-pa’s right hand, he gained possession of it, and plunged it into the heart of the Chien. Holding it up, the Mandan claimed it as his own, and, taking the scalp of his valiant enemy, he departed in triumph.
Such are some of the feats of the Four Bears. But he and his tribe are now no more. In the summer of 1838, the small-pox, that curse of the red race, was introduced among them by the fur-traders. The Mandans were then surrounded by several war-parties of the Sioux, so that they could not scatter into the plains, but were confined to their village. The disease became so malignant, that, after a person was attacked, death ensued in a few hours. Despair and madness seemed to seize upon the people, and a large number destroyed themselves with knives and guns, or by dashing out their brains in leaping headlong from a ledge of rocks in front of their village. None thought of burying their dead, and whole families were left in ghastly heaps in the wigwams.
Mr. Catlin gives the following account of the melancholy fate of Mah-to-toh-pa. “He sat in his wigwam and saw every one of his family die about him,—his wives and his little children. He was attacked with the disease himself, but he recovered. He then walked out, and, passing around the village, wept over the destruction of his tribe. His braves and warriors, whose sinewy arms once seemed to defy danger, were now but as heaps of clay. He came back to his lodge, and covered the bodies of his family in a pile with a number of robes; he threw another around himself, and went out upon a hill at a little distance and sat down. Despite the entreaties of some traders who chanced to be there, he utterly refused to eat. He remained on the earth till the sixth day, when, faint and exhausted, he staggered back to the village, and entered the horrid gloom of his own wigwam. Laying his body down beside the group of his sleeping wife and children, he drew his robe over his face, and, lingering for three days, at last died.”
Thus, in the course of two months, the whole tribe of Mandans perished, with the exception of some thirty or forty, that were taken as slaves by the Ricarees, who moved from their own abodes and took possession of the Mandan village. This remnant of the valiant Mandans could not endure a state of bondage. Some months after they had been reduced to captivity, when the Ricarees were attacked by their enemies, the Sioux, they ran out together upon the prairie, calling to the Sioux to kill them. “We are Ricaree dogs!” said they. “Our friends are dead,—our warriors are no more,—our villages are in the hands of strangers. We will not, we cannot live!” Then, brandishing their weapons in a manner to provoke the enemy, they were all cut in pieces. Not one escaped, and the Mandans are no more. Where is there a sadder page of history than this?
PRESENT CONDITION OF THE WESTERN INDIANS IN THE UNITED STATES.
From our previous pages it will be seen that numerous causes have contributed to reduce the number of the aboriginal inhabitants of this country, so that but a remnant are now found in the States and Territories of this republic. By the most recent report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs to Congress, the following is the estimated number of Indians in the United States. Of tribes indigenous to the country west of the Mississippi River, 168,909; of those removed, 82,594; present western population of the tribes wholly or partially removed, 89,288; remaining east of the Mississippi, 22,846.
From this it seems that there were but about 300,000 of the various tribes specified yet remaining. But this includes only a small portion of some of the most numerous native tribes, as, for instance, the Blackfeet and others.
The evils attending the proximity of the whites to the Indians, while the latter remained within the bounds of the States, have induced the general government to adopt the policy of their removal to an extensive country west of the Mississippi. The measure was one which was, indeed, attended by great present inconvenience and injustice to those tribes which had become, in a degree, somewhat civilized, as they were forcibly torn from their loved homes, and compelled to commence their journey to an untried country, where they must, as it were, begin life anew. Many perished during their march, from fatigue and disease. But resistance was hopeless, and the only chance that remained of their preservation, as distinct tribes, was in their consent to go; and so they obeyed the mandate, and departed far from their ancient seats of power, and the burial-places of their fathers. They left behind them, in many instances, good houses, well cultivated fields, and various improvements, which were the fruit of the labor of years; and, to the great disgrace of the whites, they were subjected, in some cases, to outrage and rapine, dispossessed of their property, and even wounded, or put to death, while defending it.