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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
BULLETIN 115

JOURNAL OP:
RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ

Translated by
MYRTIS JARRELL
Edited by
J. N. B. HEWITT

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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
BULLETIN 115

JOURNAL OF
RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ

An Account of His Experiences Among Fur Traders
and American [ndians on the Mississippi and
the Upper Missouri Rivers During
the Years 1846 to 1852

Translated by
MYRTIS JARRELL
Kdited by
JoNwB. HEWETT

UNITED STATES
GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE
WASHINGTON : 1937

For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, Washington, D. G. - - - - - - Price 60 cents

LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION,
Bureav or American ErHnowocy,
Washington, D. C., July 10, 1936.
Str: I have the honor to submit the accompanying manuscript,
entitled “Journal of Rudolph Friederich Kurz”, edited by J. N. B.
Hewitt, and to recommend that it be published as a bulletin of the
Bureau of American Ethnology.
Very respectfully yours,
M. W. Sriruinea, Chief.
Dr. C. G. Axsor,
Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution.
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FOREWORD

The accompanying narrative Journal of the noted Swiss artist,
Rudolph Friederich Kurz, of Bern, Switzerland, was recorded in
the German language during the years from 1846 to 1852, which the
author spent at the western trading posts of the great fur companies
on the Mississippi and the upper Missouri Rivers, from New Orleans
to St. Louis and Fort Union.

Through the interest of Mr. David I. Bushnell, Jr., a typed copy
of the Journal in the German language, and a script and a typed
translation of it into English by Myrtis Jarrell,} are now in the
archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Smithsonian In-
stitution, Washington, D. C.

The typed German text consists of 455 pages (inclusive of three
supplements), large legal cap in size; the English translation of 780
pages of ordinary typewriter size (including the appendices).

The original German manuscript of this interesting Journal is
now in the Historical Museum in Bern, Switzerland.

Rudolph Friederich Kurz was born in Bern, Switzerland, about
January 8, 1818, and he died there in 1871. From his Journal it is
learned that he had two brothers, Louis and Gustav.

Through the courtesy of the staff of the Legation of Switzerland
in Washington, D. C., the following biographical note concerning
Mr. Kurz has become available for use here—namely, from

“Dictionnaire historique et biographique de la Suisse”, to wit:

“Kurz, Rudolph Friederich, 1818-1871, peintre anamalier et pay-
sagiste, vécut quatre ans chez les Indiens du Miscissippi supérieur};
maitre de dessin 4 l’école cantonale de Berne 1855-1871; membre
fondateur et premier directeur de l’école dart.

Références:

Sammlung bernischer Biographien, volume I;
Dictionnaire des artistes suisses;

E. Kurz: Aus den Tagebucheren des Malers F. Kurz;
Volumes d’esquisses au Musée historique de Berne.”

1 TRANSLATOR’S NOTE.—Owing, no doubt, to omissions in the copy of the Kurz manu-
script, references in the manuscript proper to certain additions in the supplements have
no corresponding references on the pages of the latter, so I was unable, in every instance,
to verify the references in the manuscript.

vi

VIit FOREWORD

From evidence which the Journal itself supplies it appears that
at least portions of it were recast and rewritten as late as the year
1856, so that his comments on events and persons of the period
covered by the manuscript express his own matured opinions and
observations.

Mr. Kurz witnessed a number of historically important events in
the valley of the Mississippi River. While in this great western
region he learned much of the final westward migration of the
Mormon people resulting from the bitter hostility of the white peo-
ple with whom the Mormons came in contact.

He likewise witnessed the great rush westward of the money-mad
to California after the reported discovery of gold there. His com-
ments on these events are sometimes rather caustic, but they appear
to be based on his own observations. Mr. Kurz is especially critical
in his remarks on the causes and the conduct of the Mexican War,
which had broken out just before he reached this country.

Mr. Kurz lived at several of the great trading posts of the fur
companies on the Missouri River, being occupied at times as a clerk,
especially at Forts Berthold and Union, and so came into direct
contact with the daily lives of the Indians, of the carefree traders,
and of the officers of these trading posts.

It was this intimacy with the private lives of these several classes
of people which supplied him with the data he so interestingly in-
corporated in his narrative, since he witnessed conditions which have
long ago passed into oblivion along with the buffalo.

At all times he evinced a deep sympathy for the Indians in their
struggle against the destructive encroachments of the white man,
and so he willingly excused the Indians for their foibles.

Mr. Kurz indulged in severe criticism of Mr. George Catlin, the
artist, even charging that Catlin did not hesitate to victimize “Uncle
Sam” in the sale of his paintings.

Mr. Kurz, in explaining his presence in America, writes in his
Journal: “From my earliest youth primeval forest and Indians had
an indescribable charm for me.” He continues: “Man’s habitations
spread over the whole earth; there are churches and schoolhouses
without number; yet where are men found dwelling together in
unity? Where does sober living prevail, or contentment? I longed
for unknown lands, where no demands of citizenship would involve
me in the vortex of political agitations.” Continuing, he remarks:
“Twelve long years I spent in preparation for my professional tour.”

Such considerations, among others, moved Rudolph Friederich
Kurz to leave his homeland to seek in an unknown country for the
attainment of his ideals.

So, Mr. Kurz sailed from Havre on the Tallahassee, commanded
by Captain Hoddard. His objective was Mexico, although he knew

FOREWORD Ix

that war had broken out between that country and the United States.
Notwithstanding this information, he kept on to New Orleans, under
the impression that Mexico would submit as soon as General Taylor
crossed the disputed boundary, the Rio Grande.

But upon his arrival in New Orleans on December 24, 1846, he
learned that, according to the plans of President Polk, the war was
to continue. This knowledge caused Mr. Kurz to change the field
of his proposed operations. So, on January 1, 1847, he embarked
from the city of New Orleans on board the steamer Amaranth for
St. Louis, which place he reached January 17.

The editor has not felt it incumbent upon him to make any mate-
rial change in the text of the Journal, except to make the spellings
of tribal names in it conform to the standard of orthography adopted
in the Handbook of American Indians, Bulletin 30 of the Bureau
of American Ethnology. He has, however, in one or two places
expunged passages reporting mere hearsay which might be held to
be obnoxious to certain bodies of people. In all other respects the
Journal has been left in the language of the translator, Myrtis

Jarrell.
J. N. B. Hewrirr.

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JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ

AN ACCOUNT OF HIS EXPERIENCES AMONG FUR TRADERS AND
AMERICAN INDIANS ON THE MISSISSIPPI AND THE UPPER
MISSOURI RIVERS, DURING THE YEARS 1846 TO 1852

TRANSLATED BY Myrtis JARRELL

Epirep sy J. N. B. Hewrrr

I remained an entire week in New Orleans to recover from sea-
sickness, to make drawings of scenes in the native forests nearby, and,
in the meantime, to determine upon definite future plans.

On Christmas day I set foot for the first time in the American
forest primeval. As it was winter, I could not expect luxuriant
vegetation such as one finds in the warm seasons, but, I must say,
the extensive cypress swamps and brakes behind the city toward Lake
Pontchartrain were totally different from anything I had ever seen
before. As that region is marsh, cypress and water oak are found
there almost exclusively, and denuded of foliage at that season, their
only adornment was festoons of Spanish moss. The climber I saw
most frequently was the blackberry. On the ground I found odd
outgrowths from the cypress roots concerning the origin of which,
according to what I read afterwards in William Bartram’s “Journey
Through Louisiana”, I had a mistaken idea. Botanists there call
those formations cypress knees. To me they seemed to be cypress
stems broken off and worn away by rain or by the action of water
during the frequent floods.

From my earliest youth primeval forest and Indians had an in-
describable charm for me. In spare hours I read only those books
that included descriptions and adventures of the new world; even
my own beautiful homeland pleased me best in its records of primi-
tive times, when sturdy shepherds and huntsmen, with their noble
forms unconcealed—like the “woodmen” in heraldry or the Germans
of Tacitus—roamed freely in the virgin woods where dwelt the
aurochs and the stag, the bison and the gazelle, the wild boar and the
unicorn, the chamois and, what is more, the dragon. Now primeval
forests exist only in inaccessible mountain fastnesses; cultivation ex-

1

2 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

tends even to the snow-capped peaks. Man’s habitations spread over
the whole earth; there are churches and schoolhouses without num-
ber; yet where are men found dwelling together in unity? Where
does sober living prevail? Or contentment? I longed for unknown
lands, where no demands of citizenship would involve me in the
vortex of political agitations. I longed for the quietude of imme-
morial woods where no paupers mar one’s delight in beauty, where
neither climate, false modesty, nor fashion compels concealment of
the noblest form in God’s creation; where there is neither overlord-
ship of the bourgeois nor the selfishness of the rich who treasure
their wealth in splendid idleness, while the fine arts languish.

When I was allowed to devote myself to painting, those longings
became all the more intense for the reason that, from the moment
I determined to become an artist, my life purpose was fixed: I would
devote my talents to the portrayal of the aboriginal forests, the wild
animals that inhabited them, and to the Indians. From that mo-
ment I had an ideal—a definite purpose in life to the attainment of
which I might dedicate all my powers. To depict with my brush
the romantic life of the American Indian seemed to me a subject
worthy of the manifold studies I was to undertake. In fact, the
comprehensiveness of the plan proved my greatest difficulty, because,
in the study of art, landscape and animals require each a special
training that is only little less important than that demanded for the
representation of human beings. Many years would be required of
me, if I was to attain to mastery in a single one of these subjects.
Nevertheless, my enthusiasm for art, my perseverance and untiring
patience—self-will, as this trait is often named—gave me fair hopes
of realizing my aims.

I spent 12 years in preparation for my professional tour. Dur-
ing that time I had wavered between this country and that in trying
to make up my mind which would be the best field for my work.
It was not merely a question as to which zone afforded the most
luxuriant landscape and the greatest variety of wild animals, but,
above all else, which country afforded, also, the most perfect type
of primitive man; for, as my studies progressed, my ideals became
more exacting, my aims more lofty: I aspired to attain to the excel-
lence of antique art—yes, still more, to equal Raphael’s master works.

Accordingly, it was no longer my purpose to portray the Indian |
as an end in itself but to employ that type as a living model in the
portrayal of the antique. Baron Alexander von Humboldt, whom |

I had the honor to meet in Paris in 1839, recommended Mexico as

the country above all others that would serve my purpose best. —

The lofty cordilleras, the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics, the
Comanche Indians, the buffalo, etc., were all there together—un-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 3

surpassed in any other geographical zone. In Brazil and in Suri-
nam, it is true, vegetation was much more abundant, but, on the
other hand, the wild animals were less varied in kind and the In-
dians not so finely formed. Furthermore, the North American In-
dian, inasmuch as he has to exert himself to a greater degree for his
livelihood, has far more intelligence and energy than his southern
brother.

In 1839 I decided in favor of Mexico and, so eager was my desire
for travel, I would have set out thither at once had not my friend
Karl Bodmer restrained me with his good advice. He wisely urged
me not to be in too great haste, but first to become so practiced in
the drawing of natural objects and in the true representation of
animals and of mankind that the matter of technique would no
longer offer the least difficulty. Then I should be able to discern
quickly the natural characteristics peculiar to the region in question
and to portray the forms with facility and ease. It is an undoubted
fact that, when one has to labor painfully with drawing, perspective,
and the combining of colors while sketching or painting an object or
scene, life and action suffer thereby. One must have a practiced
hand and an experienced eye to be able to indicate with a few swift
strokes the preeminent characteristics of an object, which he can
keep in mind upon painting the same or else recover always with
ease. The ability merely to make sketches would not avail me. I
must devote myself to prolonged study in art.

Now, with regard to the contents of my journal: No scientific de-
scriptions of natural life, as studies of mine, will be found therein.
That work has been admirably done by recognized scientists such as
Audubon, Prince Neu Wied, and others. My pictorial representations
are more complete, more accurate in so far as the animals are por-
trayed together with the terrain that offers the best setting for them,
and the Indians are represented not only in their ceremonial garb
but also in the dress of everyday life. An artist depicts but one
moment of an action, though there may be many more ideas as well
as descriptions of habits and customs that, while not suitable to his
purpose, are interesting and justify an account of the whole action.
On the other hand, the pictorial delineation is supposed to be a
clearer, more complete picture than the most perfect description in
words.

My chief task in this work was to give from my own observation
a sincere portrayal of the American Indian in his romantic mode of
life, a true representation of the larger fur-bearing animals and of
the native forests and prairies. The pictures are intended to be true
to nature but chosen from the standpoint of the picturesque and de-
picted in an aesthetic manner. They are intended to satisfy natural-

4 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

ists as well as artists, to broaden the knowledge of the layman and
serve at the same time to cultivate his taste.

1846

In the autumn of 1846 I believed myself sufficiently prepared to
attain success in my life work; longer delay seemed unnecessary.
Because of the political unrest at that time, I left Bern without
regret. I went direct to Havre—Paris I knew already from a 3
years’ stay there some time earlier—and engaged passage on the
Tallahassee, of which boat Captain Hoddard was in charge. The
voyage was, on the whole, favorable. I suffered the entire time from
seasickness, but for that I was prepared. What I found most un-
pleasant was the motley crowd of emigrants I was obliged to mingle
with for such a long time. The revolting scenes I, among others,
was forced to look upon turns my stomach even now. In spite of
the fact that war had just been declared between the United States
and Mexico, I pressed on to New Orleans with the expectation that
Mexico would surrender as soon as General Taylor had taken pos-
session of the boundary in dispute, i. e., the Rio Grande. Upon my
arrival in New Orleans on December 24, however, it was perfectly
manifest that, according to Polk’s plans, the war would continue.
In the meantime there was no prospect whatsoever of comfortably
sketching scenes in the war zone. I should have been obliged to
enlist with the forces of one country or the other; either enter the
ranks or take the risk of being treated as a spy by both of them.
My sympathies were not sufficiently enlisted either for Mexico or
Uncle Sam to jeopardize my life, when my purpose in going to Mexico
could be only halfway accomplished.

I was much inclined to go to Texas and remain there until the war
was over. I was strongly advised against that plan, however, by my
friend, L. V., on account of the great number of lawless ne’er-do-
wells who made that part of the country unsafe. Moreover, Texas
was within the theater of war. Though the country surrounding
New Orleans interested me with its cypress woodlands, Spanish
moss, and low fan palms, the sudden and extreme variations in tem-
perature were, I thought, not at all conducive to health. That which
displeased me, however, was the public sale of slaves. These trans-
actions made the city so distasteful that I would not even consider
spending the winter there in the interest of my art. I was urged on
to other scenes; first, to St. Louis; from there, the way lay open
before me along the Santa Fé trail across the prairies to Mexico, by
way of Fort Laramie to California, or up the Missouri to the Sioux,
Crows, etc., or, last of all, up the Mississippi River to the Chip-
pewa or the Winnebago.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 5)
1847

So, on New Year’s Day, 1847, I left the city of New Orleans on
board the Amaranth for a voyage up the Mississippi to St. Louis.
I found many German immigrants below and, among them, several
of my earlier fellow-passengers. One of them tarried too long mak-
ing purchases in Memphis and his family was compelled to leave
for St. Louis without him. The consternation of the latter can be
imagined; the man had all the money with him. Did they ever find
one another again, I wonder? From day to day the weather grew
colder and the landscape more wintry. Cypresses, orange trees, and
Spanish moss became more and more rare. The muddy stream below
Cairo, at the mouth of the Ohio, is so wide and the banks, for the
most part, so flat, that I could see from the boat little that was
picturesque. The days were short. On deck the sharp wind was so
cold that one felt quite content to sit, with an interesting book,
beside the iron stove in the cabin, A. Murray’s Prairie Bird afforded
me some very pleasant hours. There were not many passengers; that
time of year was the least favorable for travel. Above Cairo we
found a snow-covered landscape and the river partly frozen. The
only navigable water was in midstream—in a channel, as it were,
that became continually more difficult on account of the drifting ice
that kept up a constant din, rubbing against the sides of the keel,
plunging defiantly among the paddle wheels, then reappearing,
bobbing and bouncing out of the eddies.

On January 12, a night of Egyptian darkness, we lay to at
Devil’s Hole to get some firewood. Next morning drifting ice was
so thick about the boat that we found it impossible to work our way
out. We were frozen in. All our efforts to break the ice with hand-
spikes and turn the boat were equally as futile as our attempt to agi-
tate the water by ceaseless working of the rudder. Fine prospect!
Nothing but the swelling of the waters or a thaw could help us out
of the dilemma. The captain took advantage of the circumstances
to “rope us in.” He gave us only two scant meals a day for which
he charged us a dollar extra. It was no fault of his, he said, that
we were fast bound in ice; superior force was denied him.’ The only
dwelling in our neighborhood was on the farm of a woodcutter whose
supplies, for a number of people icebound for an indefinite time, were
reckoned to be as meager as those of the ship’s company; conse-
quently, we had to submit. This was all the more severe on us be-
cause of the time of year: in winter one has a keener appetite; fur-
thermore, several meals a day make the time seem less long and

1Travel by steamboat in America is usually very reasonable, comfortable, and satis-
factory. The fare is, on an average, one dollar per 100 miles with bed, 3 good meals a
day, and, as a rule, luggage free.

6 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

wearisome. As for me, I was bent on adventure of any kind what-
soever, so I attempted to beguile the time by taking a turn in the
forest, knee deep in snow. But I was annoyed by the extra expense:
my purse could not hold out as long as my courage and endurance.
Depletions of the purse are not to be disregarded; hence, I found
that outing a most vexatious adventure.

To make matters worse, the river fell, and in consequence we
were, for the first few days, aground. No exertion on the part of
the crew could avail anything. Meanwhile, I made my first acquain-
tance with the American log cabin and the backwoodsman. The
fellow chewed tobacco incessantly, spitting his brown juice right and
left. The mother smoked a pipe as she swayed back and forth in
a rocking chair, a piece of furniture as indispensable, it seems, as a
bed. The log house is built usually with only one room; the huge
fireplace serves for kitchen. The entire family and their guests
sleep in that room; its only vestige of ornamentation was found in
pieced-together bed coverings called quilts. There is no trace of
running water, vegetable gardens, flower gardens, or orchards, and,
as compared with ours, the same might be said of their stables and
granaries. The people themselves were most friendly and seemed
to be contented with their lot, because they were easily satisfied.
As to their appearance, they did not look healthy. Even the native-
born Americans are not exempt from fever. ‘The freshly broken
forest land is by no means salutary for any one. The backwoods-
man, therefore, is wont to be a tall, gaunt man with hollow chest
and pale, almost ashen, complexion.

The food of these people consists, three times a day, of black
coffee with a bit of brown sugar, fried ham and hominy (boiled
maize), corn bread, and molasses. ‘The children are very fond of
crumbling their corn bread in warm ham gravy. Although they
possessed cows and chickens, milk and eggs were a rarity in winter.
The backwoodsman seemed not to have the least idea of stall feed-
ing; it was far too much trouble for him to arrange, particularly
in the depths of the forest. Furthermore, he cared too little about
cattle to put himself to the inconvenience of giving them the neces-
sary attention; consequently, the poor beasts presented, in winter,
a sorry sight, shocking to a native of Switzerland. At a zigzag
fence that enclosed the house lot the cows had to stand exposed to
the wind, snow, and rain. With shoulders and hoofs thrust forward
and their gaunt backs covered with a crust of snow, half-starved,
benumbed with cold, their only possible comfort the smell of corn
nearby, they seemed to me the embodiment of misery. The horses
were protected during severe weather for the reason that the back-
woodsman’s wife was especially fond of horseback riding. ‘“Visit-
ing”—that is, riding around to visit the neighbors—is for the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 7

farmer’s wife what “shopping” is for the city woman. As excuse for
this negligence toward his poor cattle the farmer declared that the
beasts were better adapted to the out-of-doors than to stall feeding
and, accordingly, Nature had provided especially for them; there
was forage enough under the snow. With regard to wild cattle
that is, in a way, true, but not when it is a question of domestic
animals.

Every beast loses in instinct in proportion to what it gains by
training. The farmer gave a peck of corn more to a cow with a
young calf (also, to a sow with a litter of pigs), so that the animals
would not stray too far. He accustomed the cow to stay near the
house, where she longingly and with bovine patience looked forward
to having the corn, that she constantly smelled in the nearby corncrib,
at last between her teeth. If she preferred to be independent and
wander around for food, not appearing again in the evening, then
the farmer went after her and brought her back with a whip and many
a “hulloa” and “damn.” If this treatment of cattle were confined
to the backwoodsman only, it might be explained, for he cannot grow
hay in the forest and has to feed his cattle on corn, But the same
thing is true in the West: one rarely sees even a well-to-do farmer
there who cuts winter forage, and not even then unless he lives near
cities or towns, where he can sell the hay at a good price.

After 6 long days and what seemed still longer winter nights, the
river rose and burst the ice layer. We were delighted to hear the
sounds of its cracking and splitting. But, after all, it was only in
midstream that the ice had broken up. In order to open a way for us
into that channel, the captain had two sailors put his small boat on
the ice crust at right angles to the bow, then had four other sailors
(hands) cut an opening for the boat with axes and pull it lengthwise,
back and forth, against the ice in an effort to break through. He had
the same experiment tried at the keel. Soon we had the satisfaction
of seeing the thick crust of ice cut away and an opening made for
us into the navigable water. Still the bow of the Amaranth had to
be raised and the steamer had to be turned around. Even the
passengers joyfully lent a hand to turn the capstan and to shove the
boat forward. Floating ice greatly hindered our sailing and also
damaged the boat by its constant bobbing and bouncing against the
keel and beating against the paddle wheels. We were often obliged
to stop altogether for fear that the largest of the ice blocks might
shatter the blades. That continual friction of the ice against the
boat caused an incessant noise like the beating of grain on a threshing
floor.

What interested me particularly was the sailing trim of American
steamers. For inland voyages they are exceedingly well arranged

both for comfort and for practical use. In contrast with ocean
81634—37——2

8 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

steamers, they are built very broad and flat beneath the keel, in order
that they may be heavily loaded with all sorts of goods and com-
modities without sinking the vessel too deeply into the water. The
entire space in the hold between the capstan and the boilers is con-
structed to accommodate an inconceivable cargo of different sorts of
wares that, oftentimes, overflows to the lower and to the upper (hur-
ricane) decks, both of which are reserved for such uses. The inter-
vening or saloon deck is given up wholly to passengers: about three-
fourths of its length in the forepart of the boat is called the gentle-
men’s cabin, but serves also for the dining saloon; in the rear—
farthest removed from the boilers, and regarded, therefore, as the
safest quarters—is the ladies’ cabin. The latter is usually fitted up
more luxuriously than the men’s cabin, from which it is shut off by
glass doors. Only those gentlemen who are acquaintances or friends
of the ladies on board have entree to their cabin.

This custom of separating the two sexes in that way impresses
a foreigner unpleasantly and also exerts an influence upon men’s
manners that is distinctly disadvantageous. Not allowed to shorten
the long hours of a voyage in agreeable intercourse with ladies, to
be enlivened by their charming company and refining influence, the
men, restricted to their own devices for amusement, spend the time
playing cards, drinking, chewing tobacco, smoking, talking politics,
or they resort to the idle employment of whittling. Whether this
custom has been established by Americans precisely for the purpose
of being able to follow undisturbed those passions and practices
I have mentioned or whether the highly cultivated American ladies
feel that they can not run the risk of attempting to elevate the
stronger but less refined sex without suffering some harm to them-
selves, I cannot decide.

As a drawing of one of these steamboats will be given later, I
omit any detailed description. The jovial Negroes on the planta-
tions afforded us much amusement. New Year’s week the Negroes
spend as a holiday, and such a round they have of visiting, exchange
of gifts, drinking, fiddling, and dancing! It is a pleasure to observe
them. When I witnessed their merriment and drollery in servitude,
I could not help thinking them a fortunate people.

On the morning of January 17 we could see through the clear
cold atmosphere the tower and courthouse in St. Louis. How
different the feeling with which a traveler approaches an unknown
city where he has but a passing interest, from that emotion which
one experiences when setting out to seek one’s fortune.

St. Louis appealed to me. I found the city much larger than
I had expected. I made a number of pleasant acquaintances among
people from my own country. As artist, I had no chance at all

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 9

there: daguerreotypists completely crowded out portrait painters;
lithographers needed only printers—no draughtsmen; to get a posi-
tion as instructor in a girl’s school I had to be a married man;
to be employed in a boy’s school I had to be a Romanist. On
the other hand, as house painter I might have met with success.
But I grew dizzy at the thought of hanging high up on houses
and steamboats, either bronzed by the sun or rocked by the wind.
If I had been willing to settle down in St. Louis I might have been
able to make a good income as decorator. But Indians—I had
already seen several—appealed to me much more than business
affairs. I found out soon enough that I was far too visionary, too
unpractical to succeed in that new land as a businessman, however
well equipped I might otherwise be in the knowledge of languages
as well as in other acquirements.

I was lacking, moreover, in those qualities that fit a man for the
sedentary life. My desire was now to travel and to contemplate
the deep woods, to study the buffalo and the red man. Two oppor-
tunities were offered me: a campaign in Mexico; a position with a
firm of furriers. On the one hand, the attraction of the cordilleras
was very great, but I could not make up my mind to fight the
Mexicans who had done me no injury or to defend a country that
was waging the war without just cause—plainly for conquest only.?
Besides, I could have accomplished, under those circumstances, only
a few sketches. I could not have done my work thoroughly or com-
pletely. My other chance was to go as clerk with a fur trader,
some time during the summer after the melting of the snow had
opened the upper Mississippi to navigation. Meanwhile, the forests
on the Cahokia, opposite St. Louis, began to burgeon. I forgot
everything else in my wonder at the loveliness of that display. Dur-
ing the following summer my resolution to devote myself exclusively
to the study of the native forests was unalterably fixed.

?At that time there were 10 regiments of volunteers in the United States. Any man
who aspired to be an officer put up a notice at his recruiting office, where men could be
enrolled for his company. When he got together a dozen volunteers, he had them march
daily through the streets, making great noise with fife and drum to arouse enthusiasm
and beat up recruits. If this future captain (who, by the way, had hardly held a gun in
his hand so far as military training was concerned) could bring together from 70 to 80
men, he reported them with his muster roll to the Secretary of War in Washington. He
had no fear of being refused his brevet as captain, for, whether the would-be officer
were or were not qualified for the command, he had the number of men required for his
company. Ags these aspirants for commissions were compelled to have funds for recruit-
ing purposes, acquaintances usually stood together, advanced the sum necessary, and
distributed the commissions among themselves. For the higher commissions one was
obliged to have “protection.” In this country that means no more than being a political
demagogue. As a matter of course, only Democrats received the higher commands. It
is a question whether such lawyers, newspaper men, and counting-house clerks would
become good soldiers at once; for instance, one of the generals ordered an earthwork
thrown up in front of a trench! While it is perfectly true that American yolunteers
make up for lack of training in their dash and bravery, one wondered what sort of
Mexican army was going to be defeated by such soldiers.

10 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [puun. 115

On February 15 I had a chance to see a parade (a turn-out show)
in St. Louis to celebrate the eighty-third anniversary of the founding
of the city. Government officials, the oldest inhabitants, Free
Masons, Odd Fellows, school children, firemen with their brilliant
fire engines, hunters in the dress of mountaineers, and militia—all
marching in procession with different bands of musicians. Another
thing I must not neglect to mention was a model of the first steam-
boat that appeared at St. Louis (General Pike, 1817) which was
carried on the shoulders of sailors. In the evening there were bon-
fires in the streets, “transparents”, sky rockets, enthusiastic speeches,
much eating and drinking.

On March 24 Mr. Alfred Michel invited me to go with him on a
business trip to Nauvoo. Upon mentioning his highly respected
name I cannot do otherwise than express my gratitude, also, for
his many kindnesses to me. We went up the Mississippi on the
“crack” boat Zempest to Keokuk, a small town near the lower
rapids, and made a detour by land to Montrose, where we found
picturesque groups of native settlers encamped at Des Moines. A
skiff took us across to Nauvoo. The temple there could be seen at
a. considerable distance. Nauvoo is well known as the scene of the
struggle between the Mormons and the Suckers (inhabitants of the
State of Illinois), when each contestant, in gallant self-defense, was
forced to give up houses, improved lands, and, so far as the former
is concerned, even the State itself. They went from there to the
upper Missouri in the State of Iowa, where they founded the
flourishing city of Kanesville. That place is now their rallying
point before they wander on to Salt Lake in what has since become
the State of Utah.

Much has been written already concerning the cause of the con-
flict but the accounts are, as a rule, partisan. The Mormons were
first driven out of Jackson County in Missouri because they, as
Democrats and aliens, were set upon by the Whigs and natives and
maligned with all the rancor of political ill will.

Nowhere in the world are such attacks the practice in politics as
in North America; in no other country is a political opponent ex-
posed to such venom, to such base methods as in the United States.
The Whigs had, at first, the upper hand in Jackson County but they
were put in the minority by the Mormons. Any one who is ac-
quainted with the violent political practices of Americans knows
that in no election—that of President no more than that of a dis- |
trict official—are personalities respected or lies or absurdities dis-
regarded. Knowing this, he can fully understand how little basis
of truth there was for the Whigs’ accusations. And to what means |
the people in Missouri resorted in order to expel the Mormons! |

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 1

The militia marched upon them; the general, to avoid a clash, assured
the Mormon leaders upon his word of honor that, if they would
surrender arms until they had crossed the border, they would be
allowed to withdraw in peace. They accepted General Greene’s
terms honorably, and never saw their weapons again.

Whether Joe Smith, the first Mormon prophet, actually found
the Golden Tablets containing the history of the lost tribes of Israel
or whether, as is said, he indulges in spiritual hallucinations is,
in the abstract, of no significance; for the Book of Mormon con-
tains only an account of the sufferings, endless wanderings, and
battles of the lost tribes somewhat in the style of the Book of Kings
and the Book of Judges in the Old Testament. It includes no
articles of belief. The book may be regarded as harmless in itself;
it merely proves, so it is said, that the North American Indians are
descended from the Jews.

Neither the teaching nor the practices of the Mormons that are
held to be, for the most part, obnoxious, were cited in the objec-
tions raised against the sect until their adherents increased to such
degree that the “Elders” assumed too much importance. The leaders
in the church, by an improper use of appearances, bring their fol-
lowers into discredit. The laity also have several wives, though
they do not often happen to mention the fact. This abomination
they attempt to justify by reference to the Scriptural teaching:
God gave Hagar to Abraham because Sarah was barren. Interpre-
tations of Holy Writ so absurd as that bring Christianity to scorn.
That the Omniscient One should bestow Hagar upon Abraham, in
order to preserve his race, when He knew that, later on, a child
would be born to Sarah in her eightieth year! Besides, the Bible
denies to no man the right to possess more than one wife; and,
moreover, polygamy is said to be customary among the North
American Indians.

There is still another reproach brought against the elders, namely,
they are said to defraud well-to-do members of their wealth by
exacting loans and tithes under all sorts of pretenses for the good
of the church. This may be true in certain instances but I met so
many Mormons in good circumstances that I did not believe the
elders guilty, in this respect, of abusing their power. I was even
less inclined to believe that report for the reason that in making
proselytes material prosperity is regarded as the principal appeal
rather than different opinions in matters of faith.

Generally speaking, the Mormons are honest and industrious. Of
this, their enterprises in Nauvoo, their rapid progress in the wilder-
ness, are striking examples. Their temple at Nauvoo (since de-
stroyed by fire) is the only building in the United States showing

12 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

originality in design and construction. All others are either imita-
tions of the Gothic and rococo styles or, oftentimes, an extraordinary
combination of both. This Mormon temple proves what an indus-
trious people can accomplish in a short time by uniting their forces.
It was a structure in quadrangular form built of solid limestone.
At the western end the entrance admitted to a lofty vestibule over
which rose a small tower. There was very little ornamentation;
only a sort of decoration, about 6 feet from the floor and extending
all the way round, that reminded me of runic inscriptions. Unfor-
tunately, I have lost my sketch of that building.

On the ground floor there was a large stone basin drawn by 12
life-size oxen carved in stone. In that basin repentant sinners, male
and female, bathed naked in the presence of the prophet and thereby
washed away their sins.

I was not an eyewitness. Those tales were told by people who
had lived as good neighbors to the Mormons in Nauvoo. It seemed
to me, however, that women and girls who would permit improper
advances in the church could not prevent the same sort of liberties
outside the church; consequently, they would be branded by public
opinion as dissolute. Such is not the case. The only reproach that
can be brought against them is that they seemed overfond of dress,
in the selection of which they did not always show good taste. In
Savannah, later on, I often listened to one of the Mormon preachers
by whom I was really edified. I enjoyed, especially, too, the singing
of the choir. When they met together for choir practice one evening
in every week, I found real pleasure in hearing them sing. What
made this particularly enjoyable was the fact that in the western
part of the United States choir music was so seldom heard. What-
ever singing one hears in the West is usually among the negroes.
The American, who is not of a musical temperament as are the
French and Germans, rarely devotes his vocal powers to anything
more than psalms, unless he should indulge in light or ribald songs.

In Savannah there lived also a Mormon named Rains, who was a
farmer. He had two wives, each living in her own house but both
on the same farm. He was twice summoned before the court at
Savannah on a charge of bigamy. As his wives did not appear
against him, however, and as no one else could prove that he had
the second woman for wife, therefore could not testify to the fact
on oath, he had to be released both times, notwithstanding that every-
body was convinced of his guilt. Under such circumstances one is
led to doubt the honesty of the jury. In the first place, when Rains
was accused of bigamy but was not committed, the jury dared not
pronounce him guilty, even though he could have been committed,
at least, on the charge of adultery. He might have been brought

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 13

before the court a second time for his immorality but no one would
trust himself to do that, because the wording of the charge was not
“adultery” but “bigamy.” Furthermore, according to American law,
the offence must be affirmed on the oath of an eyewitness. Now,
there were people who had sufficient evidence against Rains but
would not make use of what they knew, for the reason that, on farms,
such loose living was allowed and known as “bundling.” * A similar
case came up later in St. Louis in the summer of 1852. I was pres-
ent in the courthouse at that most remarkable trial. A certain man
named Johnson was accused of incest.

The witnesses were able to testify on oath to all possible proof but,
since they were not eyewitnesses to his acts, he was acquitted.
Americans can’t do such a thing—Oh, no!

Another important undertaking on the part of the Mormons, which
was interrupted by their exodus, was the projected 6 miles of rail-
way from Nauvoo to Warsaw to avoid the rapids. Through the
Mississippi River there extends a ledge, all the way from Keokuk
to Warsaw, that leaves only from 3 to 4 feet of navigable water;
at low water navigation is impossible. Even small steamers with
a draft of more than 3 feet are forced, therefore, to make use of so-
called “lighters”, i. e., they unload their commodities in barks which
they tow up to Montrose and then, having passed the rapids, load
their boats again at Keokuk. This condition of things is a great
hindrance to navigation; consequently, for the sake of improving
facilities for transportation and at the same time of having the work
done to their own advantage, i. e., on their side of the river (the
eastern or left side), the Mormons decided to construct a short rail-
way line from Warsaw to Nauvoo. The present plan for a canal
would cost more but would, at least, dispense with the trouble of
unloading the boats.

The Suckers acted in a manner equally dishonorable toward Joe
Smith as did the militia general in Missouri.

The Mormons in Nauvoo were accused of violating the law; for
example, they were charged with certain practices concerning mar-
riage, civil rights, etc., that were not in accord with the laws of the
State of Illinois. Joe Smith offered to appear before the court and
defend both this teaching and his practices. Though the governor
sent him a company of rangers for bodyguard, the prophet was
nevertheless set upon by the mob and murdered in his bed.

We journeyed back to St. Louis on the Zaclede. That steamer and
the Tempest were at that time the fastest and best-equipped boats
on the Upper Mississippi. Service, meals, rate of speed, left nothing

* Not an unusual custom of the times in Pennsylvania and elsewhere.

14 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

to be desired. To travel on such steamers is a real delight: One has
all the comforts of good food and lodging, swift motion, tranquillity,
conversation, and scenery for a reasonable price (on an average of
$2 per 100 miles).

April: By this time the trees were in full burgeon everywhere
but not yet in their perfection. So far I had had to satisfy myself
with studying the bark and trunk of the different varieties of trees
and the stems of vines and parasitic plants. The result was that
the latter proved so interesting that they put the trees out of my
mind almost altogether. That forest in Lllinois, opposite St. Louis,
surpassed in luxuriant vegetation, diversity in plant groups, and in
its great variety of trees all other woodlands I have ever seen.

Along the banks of the quiet little Cahokia River, every step of the
way, I found a constant variation of picturesque woodland scenes:
Oaks, elms, poplars, willows, nut trees, locusts, maples, persimmon
trees, their boughs laden with parasitic vines, were clustered on the
borders of the stream, their loveliness reflected in the clear waters
as ina mirror. What distinguishes these native forests from others
is the rank growth of creepers and climbing plants and the dead
trees. The wanderer, at every step, encounters the striking contrasts
of death and abundant life, profusion and decomposition, lavish
bestowals and advantage withheld, flaunting pride and payment
exacted. He treads a narrow path made by no conveyance of man
nor laid out for man’s convenience; it marks the track of the deer,
whose course no fallen tree nor the thickest copse can hinder.‘

As soon as the foliage is in full leaf the mighty trunks themselves
are hidden from view by rank luxuriance of creepers and twining
plants. The latter, strange to say, are distinguished by no choice
assortment of blossoms; the whole living force of the vines is ex-
pended in foliage. As most of the trees on the Cahokia were known
to me already, I devoted my entire attention to the different varieties
of creepers and climbers. I was at once struck with the fact that no
ivy appeared among them. They were, for the most part, perennial
vines. I noted, furthermore, that certain trees, like cottonwood and
poplar, support these vines hardly at all, while others, like “sweet
locust”, are almost smothered by them. This observation led me to
suppose that the climbing species or suckers thrive best on trees hav-
ing thin foliage. Whether the sap of the tree, entering into the vine

*The Virginia or white-tailed deer, a very graceful animal, is still found in this part
of the country; here and there the horns of elks are found but no longer any trace of
the buffalo, though a hundred years ago they were numerous. Indian women in Illinois
used to weave a fine web out of wool from the buffalo’s hump. Of that kind of weaving
there is no longer any trace among the tribes of the upper Missouri; their only thread is
obtained from the tendon taken from the dorsal muscle of the deer. After this has been
dried and beaten they separate the fibers, coarse or fine, according to the purpose for
which they are to be used.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 15

through the many suckers that press into the bark, makes any dif-
ference in this respect I can not say. My artistic study of trees and
plants was confined rather more to outward appearances and, in that
regard, I was so enraptured by their indescribable loveliness that I
came near forgetting, not only the rest of the world, but even to do
my sketching. Interlacing with one another and intertwining about
the trees these vines made a sylvan decoration the richest as well
as the most graceful that one can imagine. The festoons sway with
the gentlest breeze and loosen themselves from the support of twigs.
Sometimes, under a gust of wind, garlands as thick as a man’s arm are
detached and hang suspended from the boughs to the ground like the
rope of a sail.

The trees become so impoverished by the dense shade and exhaust-
ing effects of this parasitic growth that they not infrequently decay
and fall to the ground; whereupon, the parasites, as if the tree existed
for support, even take fresh growth in the débris of the wreck. Some-
times old trees, collapsing under the burden of an ever-increasing mass
of vines, form regularly shaped mounds that resemble high walls;
sometimes, deep declivities of a great green ledge; sometimes, sylvan
bowers with vaulted roof—hidden recesses of the serpent kind. In
fact, the presence of these decayed or dead trees, which marks the
chief distinction between primitive and cultivated forests, serves the
purpose of beautifying the former in a most picturesque manner. In
the darkness of night, when one cannot at once distinguish objects
clearly, one is often startled by the bizarre forms that the suspended
vine garlands seem to assume. So strangely intertwined are they
that, in the dusk, they look like fallen giants who, though overthrown,
still threaten with long uplifted arms.

In this forest wild animals are hardly found at all; turtles, frogs,
wild ducks, wild geese, doves, both gray and white, herons, and the
white-tail (Virginia) deer are only worthy of mention. As is usual
in localities where heat and moisture produce abundant vegetation,
the mosquitoes are excessively disagreeable both because of their mul-
titude and their bloodthirstiness. I was forced, frequently, to visit
the same spot several times, because they stabbed my face, hands, and
body with such fury that, with all my enthusiasm, I could not sus-
tain their attacks long enough to finish my sketch at one sitting.

At the end of May Mr. Michel most kindly invited me the second
time to go up the Mississippi with him. On my first voyage the
forests were not yet in full leaf; therefore I was unable to prepare
sketches, except of some bluffs above Alton. These bluffs begin
near Alton with what is called the Pia® rock, well known from an
Indian tradition and an age-old, half-disintegrating hieroglyphic

5Piasa: A mythic being, representing the meteor or firedragon.

16 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

drawing of a colossal eagle, which is said to have played in early
days a role similar to that of our dragon, and is reputed to have had,
also, his St. George and his secret nook in a fen.

The bluffs extend along the left bank of the river all the way to
Warsaw. They are not lofty but oftentimes original in form and
beautiful in color. Between them are wild glens and ravines, where
one sees grotesque forms of trees, masses of rock, and bowlders that
have fallen from the heights above. The Mississippi is beautifully
clear until it mingles with its tributary, the Missouri, which is in-
variably muddy for the reason that throughout its entire tremendous
length it flows through alluvial soil. Therefore only as far as
Illinoistown, opposite St. Louis, can one follow the clear stream;
after that the waters become turgid and dark.

May 29. This afternoon I had my first experience in one of those
accidents that, owing to negligence on the part of engineers, so fre-
quently occur on North American steamers. Our boat, the Provi-
dence, stopped several hours at Rock Island City in Illinois to unload
lumber and other freight. Soon after we left there, as we were
striving against gale and current in our course around Rock Island,
we were startled by a detonation like the discharge of a twelve-
pounder and the bursting forth of steam. The engineer had neg-
lected to supply the boilers with sufficient water and an explosion
was the result. I had just sat down on the saloon deck, directly
above the boilers, with the intention of sketching that old American
fort on Rock Island (Fort Armstrong). Another man was sitting
near me. Vapor from the outpouring steam blackened both of us
with soot and we were deluged with water.

As all the passengers were rushing back toward the ladies’ cabin,
thinking that part of the boat to be the safest place, I ran along
with them. I did not know whether, at the next moment, we should
be hurled to death in mid-air, gulped down by the river, or consumed

by fire. My first view of the terrified men and women, hurtling |
against one another, crying and shrieking, was almost laughable. |
As far as I was concerned, I felt that, as I could swim, I had noth- |
ing to fear, except that I might be blown into the air. Otherwise |
I was all the more easy in mind because I had no luggage with me. |

When the explosion occurred several of the ladies, on account of
the oppressive heat, were enjoying a siesta in their staterooms; ac-
cordingly they rushed out on deck negligée, looking charming in
their light garments and with hair unbound.

That impression was immediately dispelled by another so hor-
rible that I hope I may never see the like again; the second cook

and a 17-year-old German girl, together with her younger brother, |

were brought up on deck frightfully burned. They were carried
into the cabin, so that their horrible suffering might be alleviated.

|

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 17

Their poor black bodies, burned almost beyond recognition, were
rubbed with oil and when that remedy proved ineffectual, with
raw potatoes, scraped into a soft mass and applied to soothe the
pain. There were others below more or less scalded; a total of 14
people were injured, 4 of whom died that night.

The boilers had too little water and in consequence became over-
heated; two of them were rent. Boiling water was thrown back-
ward at least 30 feet and struck the people near the cooking stove
with full force. A small boy lying directly beneath the boiler was
not hurt. In spite of the fact that the engineer, who unfortunately
escaped unhurt, might justly have been held responsible, the captain
insisted he be given a written acknowledgment to the contrary, in
order that he might not lose the insurance on the ship and the ship’s
cargo. The fact is, the captain was engaged in a card game at the
time of the accident and more interested, no doubt, in his cards and
stakes than in the proper management of his boat, on the safety
of which he most likely relied too much. He is to be held blame-
worthy, I presume, only in so far as he is responsible for the negli-
gence of the ship’s crew. His companions in the card game signed
at once the written statement exonerating him.

The Providence, being unfit for further travel, had to be taken
back to the landing place we had just left. We passengers were
obliged to wait for the arrival of another boat before we could
proceed farther on our journey. Next morning we were glad to
see, in the distance, between the river and the forest, a cloud of
smoke slowly but steadily approaching. After some hours a steam-
boat came into view; the name Red Wing I could already decipher
with the aid of my telescope. By and by she came alongside, took
us on board, and as much of our freight as could be carried besides.
It is always lucky, in such instances, if one’s passage is not paid
in advance. Otherwise, one is likely to lose the entire amount. If
one has luggage one need not pay the fare until the day before
arriving at one’s destination.

The Upper Mississippi far surpasses the Missouri and the Ohio
in picturesque scenery—has many more islands abounding in beautiful
woodlands, which sometimes take the form of long, narrow strips of
forest opening out here and there into pleasing vistas; sometimes
they seem nothing more than detached clumps of trees that, presently,
widen to such extent that they can hardly be distinguished from the
mainland. Not infrequently a beached steamboat proves the most
suitable accessory to the landscape. Still farther north the river

_ becomes but a series of small lakes, where picturesque scenes, famous
for their beauty, may be enjoyed all the way from the foot of the
bluffs to the Falls of St. Anthony.

18 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

At the head, or highest point, of Rock Island the upper rapids begin
and, just as the lower rapids near Keokuk do, make navigation
difficult. Due to the rugged, rocky bed, the waters are always in
ereat agitation. The river was very high as we came on; conse-
quently, though there was really less danger under such circumstances,
we went forward very slowly and with much difficulty. When
shall I ever forget Rock Island and that group of apparently cold-
blooded Fox Indians who wrapped themselves so snugly in their
blankets and watched us with such curiosity! The Upper Rapids are
30 English miles in length and are formed, just as the Lower Rapids
are, by a rocky ledge that extends from one bank of the river to the
other.

On June 2 we arrived at Galena (in German, Bleierz) on the Fever
River. The city is well known for its lead mines, the profits from
which caused the Black Hawk War. Lead is found in a single
narrow stratum that extends 8 miles along the right bank, at the foot
of a precipitous hill just where this tiny stream flows into the
Mississippi. On and near the hill are a great number of dwelling
houses that by means of a steep flight of steps are brought into
connection with the city below. The Fever River is rightly named:
it is a shallow stream with little or no fall; therefore it engenders
miasma and mosquitoes by thousands. Farther upstream the river is
not navigable for steamboats, and even to this point by only the
smaller boats. At the landing place there was a queer sort of ferry:
flatboats propelled with the hands, without the aid of rudder, horse,
or steam. There is no current, therefore no resistance to overcome.
A rope is suspended over the water at about half a man’s height.
The ferryboat is attached to the rope at both ends by means of slid-
ing rings. The ferryman’s method of setting the boat in motion is
10 take firm hold of the rope and thrust the boat forward or backward
with his feet. He begins at the fore end (which is the rear end on
his return trip, for the ferryboat is never turned around) and pushes
forward until he reaches the stern, then runs back to the fore end
and catches hold of the rope again, and proceeds as before. |

For two days I rambled about the neighborhood of Galena. The —
weather was ideal. I made sketches of many interesting places. In _
the vicinity lies the battlefield, which was pointed out to me, where —
Capt. Zachary Taylor, afterwards President of the United States, —
defeated Black Hawk. To this day opinions concerning that war |
differ much, even among the Americans themselves. Some maintain |
that Black Hawk was altogether in the wrong, because Keokuk, chief
of the Fox Tribe, had concluded a treaty with the United States con- |
cerning the cession of lands and Black Hawk should have accepted |
that agreement. Yes; but in accordance with the laws of which
|

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 19

nation? According to Indian decree? In the first place, any one
who is acquainted with Indian customs knows that a chief has no
authority as regent; may never ordain a thing done, notwithstanding
the fact that the members of his tribe, at certain times and under
certain circumstances, may confer upon him supreme command, in
some instances bow absolutely to his will. In the event that one
member, who is quite his equal, does not willingly agree to be
subordinated to him, the chief as such has no power over that person.
If, in accordance with our ideas, Keokuk had had the authority of
regent, then Black Hawk and his followers would have been bound
to accede. But the former chief had no such authority; he was
empowered to conclude a treaty only for himself and his faction—
never at any time for the Fox nation as a whole. So long as Black
Hawk and his adherents did not agree to the cession of lands no one
had a right to take possession of them until his share had been
apportioned. That had not been done.

Furthermore, Keokuk was not even chief by tribal decree. He was
installed as such by the United States simply because he was a good
friend to the Americans; in consequence of this the Foxes separated
into factions, one of which was favorable to Americans, the other
to the English. For that reason the treaty accepted by Keokuk was
not binding in any sense upon the adverse party.

Thus far Black Hawk was within his right to fight for the graves
of his forefathers. He might with justice look upon the Americans
as robbers and treat them accordingly. From the moment, how-
ever, when Black Hawk was defeated on the field of battle, and made
a treaty with General Atkinson, binding himself and his followers
to surrender the lands in dispute, he was put in restraint. Never
again would he be allowed to contest that transaction in arms against
the Americans. One can only say, what has been said before, that
right as established by the strong hand will prevail only so long as
the weaker contestant is obliged to yield to superior force without
question as to the justice of his claim. The same observation applies
also to decisions contested by armed forces in revolution, though
according to the generally accepted view in such instances the
defeated force is always in the wrong.

In connection with the Black Hawk War one further fact is
worthy of mention: according to the stipulations of the treaty with
Keokuk, the Fox Indians were granted permission to withdraw at
once to their former lands but the white owners of lead mines were
unwilling to submit to that provision and shot the Indians down
like wild beasts, just as, later on, the gold seekers did in California.

As I had visited lead mines and silver mines before at Huelgoat
and Pullonen in Brittany, and furthermore, had little time now

20 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

at my disposal, I did not go to the mines at Galena. As soon as
Mr. Michel had accomplished his business undertakings we returned
on the Wareagle to St. Louis.

On November 19 in the same year I accompanied Mr. Michel to
New Orleans, where he intended to establish a commission house.
On that visit I saw many Choctaws at the market. The men were
selling wild game (rabbits, turkeys, venison) and the women, seeds,
grain, and healing herbs.

The most important event during my stay in New Orleans, and
that which I most enjoyed, was the public appearance there of the
hero of Buena Vista. I shared the universal jubilation upon his
passing through the streets on his old gray horse. My enthusiasm
was not. so much for his unexcelled achievements in war as for the
man who, in spite of Polk’s mean treatment of him, proved himself
capable of such glorious examples of military greatness as his vic-
tories at Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma against General Arista
on the 8th and 9th of May, against Ampudien at Monterey on the
Qist of September 1846, and against Santa Anna on February 22,
1847. Notwithstanding that Polk had left him in the lurch, had
transferred his best troops to Gen. Winfield Scott in order that this
man might also win laurels; * * * I was glad that, in spite of
Polk, old Zach® had the best prospects of being President of the
United States. I was very glad of this, although I would myself
sooner be a Democrat than a Whig. The throng that filled the streets
was something dreadful and the exultation of the people indescrib-
able. What impressed me particularly was the comparatively small
number of good-looking white women. Among the great numbers
of feminine onlookers at the windows, those of the colored race
seemed, as a rule, the handsomer.

Two weeks later I returned to St. Louis, taking with me several
new studies of forest scenes in Louisiana and Arkansas. This winter
voyage up the Mississippi was even more adventurous than my first
one. Page, the captain and owner of the boat (the Hannibal), was
so extraordinarily pious that he thought it a sin to travel on Sun-
day; therefore he anchored Saturday evening at a safe but very
lonely place and built a fire. There we remained the entire Sabbath
day and until midnight. Any one who cared for extempore ser-
mons had the chance three times during the day to hear them, I was
sorry that it was a season when the forests were not in leaf; I should
have had such excellent opportunity for sketching. As it was, how-
ever, the trees with their draperies of Spanish moss presented a
dusky, original appearance that, when seen through the river mists,
was peculiarly effective. Near the close of day crashing peals of
thunder sent me scurrying back to the boat.

6 Gen. Zachary Taylor.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 21

That pious captain played a trick on us at Cairo. Upon hearing
the news that the Mississippi north of its junction with the Ohio
(at Cairo) was frozen over, Page determined not to risk sailing
his precious ship in ice-blocked waters but, notwithstanding his obli-
gation to those on board, to unload passengers and freight and return
to New Orleans. He was kind enough, however, to wait one day
longer (meanwhile, he unloaded the freight). By that time the
Oswego, coming up from Louisville, arrived and took us aboard for
St. Louis. Oh, you wretched old Oswego; never shall I forget you
as long as I live!

The Ohio was overflowing its banks—exceedingly high and swift.
The swollen waters swept along with them a multitude of fragments
from houses demolished by the flood, fences, uprooted trees, and the
dead bodies of cattle. In the midst of all that the more daring river
craft were scouring the waters to appropriate from the wreckage
whatever was of value. The delta was nothing more than a deep
morass; there was no place where we could saunter about; so we had
to content ourselves, as far as entertainment was concerned, with
watching the river pirates from the hurricane deck.

The little Oswego did not please me at all; the besmeared appear-
ance of the cabins discouraged any hope of good service; on small,
cheap boats there is never congenial company, so there was no other
choice for me and my unfortunate fellow passengers but to betake
ourselves to the poop with its old stern wheel (instead of two paddle
wheels, one on each side, this boat had one at the rear). Yet, when
we had to make up our minds whether we would wait at an inn for
a more comfortable steamer or continue the journey on the Oswego,
I decided in favor of the latter.

As I said before, the swollen waters of the Ohio were causing wide-
spread devastation. The current was so swift and strong that it
pressed back the waters of the Mississippi and, under the low tem-
perature at the time, that backwater quickly froze. Though the
ice crust was quite thin, it retarded considerably the cheaply con-
structed Oswego. In addition to that hindrance, the boat, being
heavily loaded, was forced to a strain beyond its worn-out strength
and had to stop almost every minute while some damage to the
machinery or to the wheel was being repaired. At Chester we
stuck fast again; the old machinery could do no more.

Again we were forced to wait for another steamer and pay dearly
for our short journey from Cairo to Chester (60 English miles).
Fortunately, we were not delayed very long—not an entire day. On
first view, I had little hope of finding a place on the Boreas No. 3
that arrived a few hours later from New Orleans. From a distance
the boat seemed to be overcrowded. However, most of those on
board were German immigrants, not cabin passengers. Quite a

De BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

number of them lodged on the floor in front of the main cabin in
an open space between the stoves, where they had the comfort of
some heat and were protected by a strip of canvas from the wind.
They were cold, notwithstanding. The older people and little
children remained nearly all the time under the protection of their
wraps and blankets, but some of the young girls declared every time
in favor of the main cabin where the crowd was. There they allowed
themselves to be stared at, in the hope of attracting a beau.

It is extraordinary how universally the opinion is held among
immigrant girls (no nation excepted) that there are precious few
of their sort in the United States and that nothing is so easily
managed as getting married—one need only possess a pretty face.
Now, luckily, every one of them believes herself to be in possession of
that attraction; therefore, not one of them considers the possibility
of failure. Whether she understands that most necessary qualification
of all, i. e., the English speech, is immaterial. Eyes are eloquent
and, where they do not avail, gesticulations assist. Such girls as
that were found almost always standing together in the saloon (they
have no right to sit down nor were there any seats for them, if
they had). They giggled if a man stared, especially in their direc-
tion. If he said something to them, the words of which they could
not understand, they had not the least doubt in the world as to his
meaning, nevertheless. The young man was deliberating upon the
possibility of his being accepted whether he had money or not.

It is natural that immigrant girls from Europe should stand on
so little ceremony in the matter of accepting husbands on short
acquaintance, without courtship. They imagine, more or less justly,
that the life of an American woman is one of leisure and comfort.
They are therefore quite ready to be married to an American, even
though they may not be able to converse with him. Besides, they
find extended courtships are by no means the custom in the United
States, particularly in the West.

If a young man calls twice on a girl he is expected to declare
himself. If he is accepted, he plans to marry at once. If he is not
accepted, he is supposed to discontinue his visits, for the reason that
he might otherwise prevent others from paying suit to the girl and,
it may be, rob her of a love that might lead to marriage later. That
is essentially practical. In the first place, it is notoriously true that
during courtship both parties reveal their most amiable qualities
and only after marriage let their contrary traits be known. That
is why, in spite of long courtships, there is so much complaint in
Europe. Now, in the United States, a man conducts his love affairs
without illusions. He does not indulge in dreams of an angel but
assumes, simply, that both parties to the contract have faults that

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 23

must be borne. Therefore, since he does not surrender himself to
passionate overfondness, he is not likely to suffer disappointments
so grave. Inasmuch as the simpler mode of life here as well as
better means of supporting a family enable a young man to settle
early, it usually happens that both men and women marry their first
love. If the union should result unhappily, the civil compact can
be dissolved with the greatest ease; quite frequently, the ease with
which a man vanishes (“vamooses”) into a distant State, settles
down under an assumed name, and may marry again.

We travelers from the Oswego found no vacant cabins and in con-
sequence had to be satisfied at night with mattresses on the floor,
an upturned chair for headrest, and a blanket. That we slept in our
clothes goes without saying; in the first place, we were cold and,
besides, we felt so insecure about everything. There were 80 cabin
passengers; two tables had to be served at all meals.

As soon as a meal is ready to be served on American steamers
the steward reports this to the captain or his clerk; whereupon one
or the other goes to the ladies’ saloon and invites them to the table.
Then the steward rings a bell. Upon that announcement, the un-
married men may go in and wait, standing, as patient as sheep, until
the ladies, or perhaps only one lady, finishes her toilette, sweeps
to the table on the arm of her cavalier or her husband, and sits
down; then, and not until then, the remainder of the gentlemen take
their seats. This American comedy in manners is observed as well
at the inns and is meant to show the high respect American gentle-
men pay the fair sex, surpassing, in that regard, even the world-
famed gallantry of the French and winning for themselves the dis-
tinction of being called the most enlightened people. The result is,
they encourage American womankind in vanity and laziness. Every
woman expects the greatest consideration. She is unwilling to work.
The instant a young wife is obliged to set about any task she re-
proaches her husband: “I am forced to do the work of a negress.
You ought to be ashamed!” An American woman is never seen work-
ing in the field.

A country girl dresses herself just as girls dress in the city (there
is no difference in the style of dress). All she knows about domestic
affairs is to cut out and make her clothes, to piece bedquilts, to
cook, only in the most rudimentary sense, 1. e., to make coffee and
boil hominy (soup is unknown in the country), to fry ham and eggs,
and bake corn bread. The acme of her ambition in the culinary
arts is mince pie.

In connection with my remarks concerning the form so punctili-
ously observed with regard to the ladies, I must record this: I

was present when 40 men were obliged to stand 8 minutes behind
81634—37——3

24 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

their chairs because of one woman’s tardy appearance. When the
captain entered the saloon to invite her to the table she went at
once to the mirror to see whether her hair was in order, then mois-
tened her delicate fingers to give it a better gloss, smoothed out
the folds of her skirt, took still another survey with evident pleasure
in the tout ensemble, then she sailed in, no doubt with the conscious-
ness that many men (one of whom, at least, was worthy of her)
were gazing upon her with admiration. Under the influence of such
flattering vanity she gave us a look that plainly said: “As reward
for your patience, you stupid men, you may now behold what is truly
beautiful. Look at me!”

Many people may regard such observations as of petty signifi-
cance. So they would be, if American wives would stay in their
place and not be perpetually striving, little by little, to supersede
the men in everything, even in politics. It has happened often
enough in our modern day that women form unions for their emanci-
pation, nay, what is more, convene congresses, where they deal with
men as though they were bears and demand nothing less than politi-
cal equality. What is the cause of this ambition on the part of
idle women? Nothing more than the submissiveness of their hus-
bands. They find household matters uncongenial. They think their
duties as wives and mothers allow them too little scope. They
would rather read newspapers and novels than to do any work.
Do young girls desire political privileges? Not at all. A girl’s
desire, above all else, is to be married, as a matter of course. What
a privilege that some one is going to be allowed to work for her!
I do not mean to assert that the female sex is not endowed with
requisite qualifications for governing but I think women should
call themselves happy in that they are not required to employ their
abilities in political affairs. They should be satisfied with their
sway over the hearts of their husbands. Through that influence
they get, also, control in public affairs, at least indirectly. If they
insist upon having all the rights that men possess, then they must
assume men’s duties and obligations.

The many shocking instances of indecent assault, more numerous
in this country than in any other, are due in large measure to this
division between the sexes and the undue claims of women. To the
same cause may be traced those frequent desertions on the part of
parents—either a mother or a father leaves children and helpmate in
the lurch. Furthermore, the vice of polygamy may be cited as
another result.

Before the Boreas No. 3 reached St. Louis another call was made
upon her for help in time of need; the A¢lantie for two days had
been stuck fast in the ice, all the firewood had been consumed, and

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 25

on account of drifting ice in the river, no more could be procured.
After we had given her a “lift” and supplied her with wood she
was soon afloat once more. We had no further adventure before
landing, but witnessed a comic byplay in the ladies’ saloon; one
woman accused another of having filched her purse and her breast-
pin and of having hidden them under a pillow. There was much
gabble and cackle but nothing proved.

On December 24 we were again in St. Louis—14 days on the way.

1848

During the first 3 months of the year 1848 I painted a number of
horses from life. I saw them all day long, standing before my
window. American horses are bred from no particular stock but are
a product of much cross-breeding. They are, on the whole, excellent
for riding but not strong enough for draft horses. Indian ponies—
dwarfed horses—resemble in many respects the spirited but some-
what delicate Breton trotters. Between whiles I read diligently,
in St. Louis newspapers, those highly interesting accounts that were
appearing at the time, of the Mexican War; visited the courts of
justice, and listened to political speeches in order to become ac-
quainted with American conditions. Further remarks on that sub-
ject I postpone until the end, when I leave the United States. By
that time, my judgment, matured through a protracted stay and
comprehensive observation of things, will be more just.

The winter of 1848 was not very cold—at least, not cold enough
to freeze the Mississippi from shore to shore at St. Louis. That
occurs only in very severe weather. During these months, while I
was waiting for the coming of spring, when the waterways farther
north would be open to navigation, I had time to consider plans for
the future. As my private affairs are of little interest to the public,
I leave out prosaic accounts of my activities in the way of earning
a livelihood, with the exception of this observation: in the United
States, just now, a painter in the fine arts has no prospects what-
soever. He is looked upon as a “windbag,” an intriguer, a “hum-
bug.” A house painter, on the contrary, makes a good income. In
saying this, I bring no reproach against the Americans; they are
republicans—that means, the political life of the nation absorbs, to
a great degree, their energy of mind and their interest. Further-
more, the nation is young; the ambition of the people is to become
a great country, to get the mastery, so that they can dictate to
European powers. And lastly, the inhabitants outside the cities
are a farming class, who have no taste for the works of art. They
regard such things as extravagance.

26 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

As the purpose of my stay in America was to accomplish certain
aims in the study of art, all plans for employment in other direc-
tions for the sake of earning my bread (my supply of funds was
already low) had to be subordinated, necessarily, to that purpose.
I found out soon enough that I could never do anything so antag-
onistic to my true nature as to go into business, even for the length
of time required to earn enough money to get forward independently
as an artist. That a man cannot serve two masters was never more
truly verified than in me. If my penchant for portraying aboriginal
nature in art had made me dissatisfied with what my own beautiful
country could offer, now that I had actually seen primeval woods
and the wild beasts, Nature’s true children, that desire of earlier
years had become a passion. I was so happy not to have been dis-
appointed in the woodlands and forests: they were, I found, far
more rich, included more that was original, and the Indians were of
a more noble type than I had ever dreamed.

I had already accomplished something in the pursuit of my aims:
primeval woods, prairies, and river I had observed at every season
of the year—torpid under the benumbing influence of frost, brim-
ming with life under the influence of warmth. Now I longed to
study Indians and wild animals.

The war with Mexico still interfered with my visit to that coun-
try. The upper Mississippi, as far north as Galena, afforded much
picturesque scenery, to be sure, but few buffaloes or stags; further-
more, the Indians in those far northern districts, owing to the severe
climate, were of stunted growth and, for the studies I wished to
make, wore too many clothes, The Missouri region, therefore, at-
tracted me especially. That region offered more, in reality, that an
artist could turn to account than northern Mexico or the Lake
region of North America, but not what I cared for especially.
However, in the event that the Indians there did not satisfy my ex-
pectations I had still a choice between the Independence trail to
Santa Fe and the one leading from St. Joseph to the Rocky Moun-
) tains, Oregon, and California.

I decided to go to St. Joseph on the Missouri. There I should
certainly find Indians enough: The region in the midst of which the
town was situated was open Indian country, belonging to the Kicka-
poo, and the town itself was a rendezvous for fur traders of Mis-
souri and Nebraska, just as Independence was a center for Santa Fe
fur traders and, at an earlier date, St. Louis for the entire fur-
trading region of the West.

Before I left St. Louis, perhaps forever, I made sketches of some
remains in the city that date from the most remote Indian epoch,
and others from the days of Spanish rule. There were two tumuli

kuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ oT

in the form of huge terraces, both of which, for the reason that
dwelling houses had been built upon them, could be recognized as
such only from traditional report. The former residence of the
Spanish governor, now a German brewery, Washington garden to
the south of Third Street, was an unpretentious building of lime-
stone with veranda and high wall. Not far from this house on South
Main Street is the oldest chapel or church; it is of wood with stone
foundation. The entrance is at the end toward the street and the
door is reached by a flight of steps. ‘This elevated entrance was
contrived, probably, to avoid entering directly from what was fre-
quently little more than a bog. The chapel has no tower but a cross
above the door. The walls are timbered beams joined together as
in a blockhouse. On the river shore, north of St. Louis, there is a
round Spanish watchtower with stone walls of great thickness—no
loopholes.

I left St. Louis April 5 aboard the Z’amerlane, under command
of Captain Miller. The boat was heavily loaded with tradespeople,
for the most part, who were going up from St. Louis taking their
supplies along on the same boat with themselves. During the entire
winter tradesmen in St. Louis can receive no goods from the Kast
and can send away just as little fresh corn, hemp, and tobacco. The
opening of the waterways, therefore, is an important event for the
cities along the Missouri and will be always, until railway lines
have established connections with the East.

The Missouri is invariably muddy. Owing to a lack of mineral
matter in the soil, both in the bed of the stream and in the banks,
the river tears away the shore on one side and deposits the
sediment on the other, according to the direction of the current.
That is what gives the Mississippi its “coffee and milk” color below
Alton. Strictly speaking, the Missouri deserves to bear its name
all the way to the Gulf of Mexico, for it is of greater length, breadth,
and depth than its eastern brother. But its immense length was
not known at all to the first French travelers, to whom we are
indebted for our earliest information concerning this part of the
country; they knew the Missouri only at its broad estuary. The
muddy condition of the water makes the stream a dangerous route
for steamers for the reason that trees are easily uprooted by the
current from the loose soil—there is no stony substance in the soil—
and they sink into the river bed, where every shoot can ram itself
into the soft earth in such a way that it bores through the most
solid hull that comes in contact with it. These offshoots from the
submerged trees are called “snags.” Those that are completely hid-
den under water cause the greatest peril. Sometimes, in places
where a strong current tears away an entire strip of forest, the

28 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

river is so blocked with those tree trunks that boats can wind their
way through the channel only with the most careful steering.

Therefore if the pilot sees a heavy tree trunk floating toward the
side of the boat and finds it impossible to avoid, he has an especial
warning bell rung, so that the engineer will adjust the wheel in a
way that prevents the blades from being shattered by the tree. No
damage is feared from a trunk of light weight.

The average speed of a steamboat going upstream is 10 miles an
hour; going downstream, from 10 to 20 miles, according to the con-
dition of the river and the power of the engine. For instance, the
average boat makes the voyage from New Orleans to St. Louis in 138
days; a “crack” steamer in only 5 or 6. From St. Louis to New
Orleans the worst conditioned vessel needs not more than 9 days
to make the distance (1,200 miles). From St. Louis to St. Joseph
(500 miles) steamers require as much time as from New Orleans
to St. Louis, because, owing to “snags” and shifting sandbanks, they
do not run at night.

On that account the steering wheel on these river boats is fixed high
up, so that the pilot can keep a sharp lookout over a wide expanse of
water. To discover these completely submerged obstructions he has
to watch closely every variation of the water surface. As may be in-
ferred, the boats do not travel upstream at night unless there is a
brilliant moon. Even then only the most experienced pilots who have
made constant study of the changes in the river and variations in the
current dare attempt to steer them. Our first pilot on the Z’amerlane,
Laberge by name, had been at the wheel on the Mackinaw boats by
means of which the fur traders dispatched their hides and pelts to
St. Louis long before the upper Missouri was navigated by steamboats.
He was, of course, one of the best pilots on the Missouri.

The uprooted trees assume still other, though less dangerous, posi-
tions in the Missouri (also in the lower Mississippi), 1. e., they do not
lie stationary on the bed of the stream but are balanced by the current
in a way that gives them a saw-like motion; hence they are called
“sawyers.” There is also much driftwood which, when it is heavy,
does great damage to the paddle wheels.

We progressed slowly but without accident. I was in no haste, and,
on the hurricane deck, I enjoyed the beautiful weather exceedingly.
The consciousness of being actually on the voyage up the Missouri,
drawing nearer and nearer each day to the buffaloes, deer, and bears,
was intoxicating.

“Ye, who have yearn’d alone, my grief can measure.”" My long-
ings were soon to be satisfied. The dreams of my youth were to be
realized. My life purpose in art was to be accomplished.

™“Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt, weiss was ich leide.’—GonrTun.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 29

On April 18 at 11 o’clock at night, while the ship’s black crew were
singing a jubilee song, we docked at St. Joseph. In my eager gladness
I went in search of an inn, although I should have fared just as well
if I had spent the rest of the night on board.

St. Joseph, once the trading post of Joseph Robidoux, is situated
at the foot of the Black Snake Hills on the left bank of the Missouri.
Though the town was founded only six years ago there are evidences
already of a rapidly expanding and flourishing city. In spite of the
fact that there are many new buildings, both of wood and of brick,
houses, either for homes or for business purposes, are hard to get.
Upon my arrival the principal streets were much enlivened by fur
traders and immigrants on their way to regions, as yet little known,
in Oregon and California. The rich gold mines were not then dis-
covered. Only the most daring fur traders had penetrated into that
far country and, following in their wake, a rough, lawless set of
adventurers, eager for gain and best pleased with what the strong
hand won, traveled the same trail in armed bands with pack mules
and covered wagons.

A black bear, captured and enchained, gave me the welcome oppor-
tunity to study his kind. He was absolutely black; not even a trace
of gray or brown, even on his upper lip.

July 12. To-day an Iowa farmer brought into the town a live
badger,’ in a piece of hollow tree, to exhibit him for sale. I bought
the animal for $4 and kept him about a month in my bedroom, pro-
viding him daily with meat, bread, and fresh fruit. He was quite
well-behaved toward me but during the night scratched out great
pieces of plastering at the foot of my bedroom walls. Now and then
I allowed him to run in the outlying fields to get some exercise and
to amuse me with his way of digging in. He could not run any
faster than I usually walked. If I went along behind him he moved
straight ahead; if I walked beside him then he tried to escape in
the opposite direction. In less than 10 minutes he would burrow
his whole length into the rich, loose soil and then I had to pull him
out by his tail. When he was set upon by dogs it was a matter of no
importance to him so long as they made a frontal attack; but as he
was not able to turn his head, on account of his stiff, thick neck, the
instant he was attacked from the side he was lost. He was skilled
in the art of biting; he had a queer sort of bark somewhat like that
of a fox. After I made repeated drawings of him I was obliged to
have him killed; the damage he did was so far in excess of his good
uses. I had his pelt tanned, in order to use it for a hunting bag, but

8 According to Audubon, the American badger differs from the species found in
Europe only in its jaw teeth. It appears so to mein the drawing.

30 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

it proved to be too greasy to be of service. However, I brought it
home with me.

Indians of various tribes—the Potawatomi, the Foxes (Musquakee),
Kickapoo, Towa, and Oto—one sees constantly in this town, particu-
larly at the landing where they take the ferryboat to cross the river.
They conduct themselves in a very dignified manner. Now and then,
to be sure, when one of them has drunk too much of the forbidden
whisky, he is somewhat quarrelsome, but no more so than an intoxi-
cated white man; nor is an Indian under those conditions any more
dangerous than a drunken American. The latter is armed, as a rule,
with bowie knife or revolver and is quick to use his weapon upon the
slightest provocation.

Throughout the entire summer bourgeois or the heads of firms,
clerks, and other engagees or employees of the different fur companies
crowded the streets and public houses of the town. St. Joseph is for
them now what St. Louis was earlier—their rendezvous. Here all
staple commodities are supplied from St. Louis, but horses are
bought up for the purpose of selling them to the Indians on the upper
Missouri and on the Platte or Nebraska. There packs of buffalo hides
(as many as 10 packs at a time) are reshipped on the steamers, the
empty mackinaw boats sold and their crews discharged. Those
people are called Mountaineers,** a name associated with many dan-
gerous adventures, much painful endurance, but also with much ro-
mance and pleasure. The Mountaineers like best to dress themselves
in clothes made of tanned deerskin, embroidered and fringed. One
recognizes them, therefore, at sight; knows who they are and whence
they come. They are stared at as though they were bears. Not
infrequently they have no other apparel then their leather costume,
for after a long stay any other clothing would be entirely worn out.

It seldom happens, however, that these engagees have ever seen
the Rocky Mountains, much less braved their dangers. But, on the
other hand, they are compelled to work very hard in cold, rain, and
storm. The Canadian engagees, guides in the Canadian woods,
mangeurs de lard,®” are known to have swaggered through the most
breakneck dangers in which they were inclined to play an important
role. However, they cannot reckon courage as the most striking of
their fine qualities. They have far too much regard for their own
safety to fight for an employer about whom they constantly com-
plain, because he demands work done in return for his money. Later
on, when I reached the upper Missouri, I observed a great many of

81 See footnote 9 below.

8> “Manquiro de lard’ appears to be miswritten for “mangeurs de lard.” This habit
of devouring lard has led to the sobriquet ‘“greaser’, applied now broadly in the west.
Sylva Clapin, Dictionnaire Canadien Francais, says of the phrase “mangeurs de lard,’
“a surname given by our ancient bush-runners to a new initiate, who, after having
endured the first hardships, often misses the bread and the bacon of the paternal table.”

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 31

these swaggerers. In that distant region, beyond the pale of law, I
have often seen them cry out in alarm at the mere sight of a stranger
in the distance and take to flight—even throwing aside their weapons
or implements as if those instruments of defense did not belong to
them. They are, on the other hand, the most good-tempered people
and especially good patrons of the innkeepers if they have any part
of their wages left when they reach home. Few of them are provi-
dent enough to put aside any part of their earnings to buy house
and land or to settle down to their earlier employment.

Since gold has been discovered in California and lands have been
granted on the part of the United States Government to settlers in
Oregon, fur traders are in the background at St. Joseph. Now
thousands upon thousands of gold seekers and immigrants en route
to Oregon throng the taverns and streets in spring. The coming of
the Montagnards ® is no longer an interesting event.

In the summer of 1848, however, they were still the heroes of the
day and took great delight in their triumph. Four of them whom I
knew were much superior to the usual engagees in their good man-
ners, their love of truth, and in enterprise. All four were Canadians;
their names were Lambert, Francois Desolles, Michaux, and Wiskom.
They were all inspired with the same purpose: to save enough money
to become owners of land and of their homes. That common aim
united them. For lack of means they could not be independent trad-
ers; for lack of training they could not be employed as clerks. At
best, they could only serve as interpreters, for which their knowledge
of the Sioux tongue qualified them. They were a far better type than
the usual engagees, servants, and day laborers. As soon as the
winter, or fur season, was over they left the fort, where they had
been employed as trappers or traders, came to St. Joseph to spend
the summer and, incidentally, to buy a good saddle horse cheap.

In the autumn they packed provisions and some gifts for their
Indian wives and rode away to the trading post, where they thought
they could get the best prices for their horses. At the time of which
I speak they had a profitable business in horse trading, because they
bought the animals at such a low price ($20 to $30) in St. Joseph.
But when the bands of emigrants to California increased to such
numbers they were forced to pay more than twice as much for a
horse, which the Indians were no longer in a position to purchase
from them for the reason that they could not get together a sufficient
number of buffalo hides.

The four engagees having arrived at a trading post are no longer
free to trade on their own account but only in the interests of the

®Montagnards are the discharged engagees or employees of the various fur companies
and have formed the crews of the mackinaw boats which have discharged their loads
of furs. They were called mountaineers, although very few of them have ever seen the
Rocky Mountains.

oe BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

proprietor or of the company to whom the post belongs. Wherever
they find employment for the winter there they remain and sell their
horses to the bourgeois or person in charge. They dare not trade
horses to the Indians themselves, at least for buffalo hides (under no
circumstances in exchange for Indian women), because, in doing that,
they would violate the chartered rights of the licensed fur traders.
So they sell their beasts to the bourgeois at the current price for
horses at the post in exchange on St. Joseph or St. Louis. Then
the bourgeois trades the animals for buffalo hides, whereby he never
fails to make his profit.

All four engagees are enthusiastic for the Indian life. On the
whole, the French more than any other European nation adapt
themselves most readily to the Indian customs and mode of life;
their easygoing temper, their courage, gallantry, and la gloire are
inherent virtues of the Indian. Lambert is also a “bravo”; he has
often fought with the Sioux in their battles against enemies and dis-
tinguished himself for gallantry in action. Therefore he is entitled
to wear the crest in recognition of his heroic deeds: Porter les plumes,
parcequ’1l compte coup. This word “coup” has been adopted in the
English speech. It is used to designate distinguished or heroic ac-
tion in recognition of which an Indian is entitled to wear an eagle
feather in his hair and to have the same emblazoned in Indian fashion
on his buffalo robe. So far as Lambert is concerned, however, the
winning of such trophies is a mere fancy; his ideal in life is to
retire, in the course of time, as a landed proprietor.

My intercourse with these Mountaineers was very pleasant. Those
with whom I talked were half-breeds who gave me much informa-
tion and taught me, besides, the Indian language of signs which,
however much their dialects may differ, is the same throughout all
tribes on the Missouri. This knowledge of the sign language was
of the utmost importance to me, even in St. Joseph, for I came in
contact there with Indians from so many different tribes that I was
at first hopelessly confused by their various dialects.

One of my hobbies was to collect Indian weapons, decorations, and
apparel. Before I had learned the sign for “swap” I rarely suc-
ceeded in making a purchase unless I had an interpreter. The rea-
son was, as I found out, that, in my bungling manner, I had made
the sign meaning “give.” When a man presses the desired object to
his breast and gives the Indian a questioning look he is requesting
a gift; when he indicates or points out the article he wishes, then
strikes his right forefinger twice across his left forefinger, he means
barter or trade. I soon became better acquainted with the Indians,
when I was able by means of signs to purchase moccasins, bows
and arrows, tobacco pipes, embroidered purses, bracelets, and cloth-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 33

ing. For a very slight compensation I was enabled thus to proceed
with my studies. The Iowa I found especially friendly. ‘The
Fox Indians and the Potawatomi were far more reserved. The
Iowa have been a well-disposed tribe from the first; there is no
record of any hostile act on their part toward the white race. Both
of the other two, on the contrary, have waged bloody wars for the
retention of their lands, especially the Potawatomi. Whether, as
some people assert, those two tribes are to be regarded for that rea-
son as more warlike is a question. The Potawatomi, as a related
tribe to the Chippewa, fought during the War of the Revolution
with the English against the Colonists.

After the Treaty of Ghent they remained still loyal to the English
by whom they were won over with gifts and instigated to uprisings
until, upon their last great attempt under ips they were left
in the lurch by the English under command of Gael Proctor and
were forced to surrender their landed properties and to withdraw.
In accordance with the terms of the treaty of 1814, they were al-
lotted lands, known in the State of Missouri as “the Platte Purchase,”
that extended from the estuary of the Platte toward the northwest,
even to the confines of their enemies, the Sioux. But, though they
excelled all other tribes in the art of tilling the soil and in the breed-
ing of cattle, they were not yet to settle down in peace. A part of the
tribe was removed to lands beyond the Missouri, on the Kansas
River. How long they are to have the benefit of that retreat only
time will prove. As to the questions whether this continual dis-
placing of tribes from their farms is a benefit or a menace to civiliza-
tion and whether a benefit or a menace to friendly relations with the
Americans, that is easily answered. The Fox Indians have not been
inveterate foes of the Americans. That they came in conflict at all
was the fault of the English, whose plan was to make the Indians a
cat’s-paw to pull their own chestnuts out of the fire. That explains
the position taken by Black Hawk, who builded his hope on the
English, and also why Tecumseh was put in chains.

This strife between the Indians and the Americans caused unrest
among the Iowa; they had never existed in great numbers—were
never a large tribe. Therefore, when they saw the white men pressing
westward even to their own boundaries, they knew the Americans
too well to risk a losing fight. Besides, being allied with the French,
not the English, they were always friendly in their dealings with
the white race. That they were brave warriors the records of their
history prove. Less than twelve years ago they fought the Missouri
Indians at King’s Hill, not far from St. Joseph, and won the battle.

By the treaty of 1814 the Iowa were granted a strip of land
south of the Potawatomi. They lived in a village on Black Snake
River. 3 miles from St. Joseph. Those possessions they were

34 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

obliged to give up, however, and to withdraw to territory across
the Mississippi. They then came into conflict with the wandering
tribes of Shawnee and Pawnee. What a fate for the Iowa! No
game in their hunting grounds. No courage to break up land and
establish themselves in settled habitations; they were continually
dispossessed; and now, directly through their territory lay the great
trail to California and Oregon. Their fate was easy to foresee.
They themselves realized it only too well.

Indians one meets here and in the surrounding country are, to
be sure, no longer a true type of the savage. They have acquired
much from living neighbors to the white man and, more’s the pity,
little that is good. How could it be otherwise? Do so-called
Christians set them good examples? In the main, however, the
Indian retains his traditional usages and customs; consequently, I
found quite enough to study and to sketch. The stalwart forms,
the race color, their tents of skins, their dances and games, their
family life, all conform to our traditional conception of the Indian.
The dress of the women, except in the matter of the material of
which it is made, is unchanged; the “robe” and the blanket are still
in vogue. The horses and saddles, flints, knives, and tomahawks
of steel are innovations, and some articles of food as well.

Differences of physiognomy and distinctions in dress that set
apart Indians of one tribe from those of another one does not notice
at first. Only after rather close observation one learns to distin-
guish characteristics of one tribe from those of another with the
same ease with which one recognizes natives of France, Spain,
Germany, England, or the Jewish race, notwithstanding that the
distinctive characteristics of each are very difficult to express in
words.

The manner of dress among Indians varies quite as much and sets
them as distinctly apart from us as their copper-colored skin. As
a rule, the men wear only breechcloths, moccasins, and woolen
blankets; otherwise, they are nude. Sometimes they wear leggings,
i. e., trousers of deerskin, that are cut differently according to the
tribe to which the wearer belongs; that denote tribal differences
also in the way they are made and ornamented. The Indian women
wear, nowadays, a short, bright-colored calico shirt (this garment
is worn also now and then by the men) made with collar and with
sleeves that are finished with cuff or wristband; they wear, besides,
a sort of underskirt of red or blue woolen material that reaches to
the calf of the leg and is held in place about the hips by a leather
or woven girdle. Sometimes women use the same material for a
kind of leggings that extend only to the knee and are fastened with
knee bands, the straps and bands being often varicolored and richly
ornamented with coral. On their arms they wear any number of

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 35

bracelets, often as many as twenty, of brass wire that they them-
selves embellish in a really tasteful manner with files.

The fall of the Indian’s blanket is similar to that of the Roman
toga, but more graceful, because the drapery of a blanket is not
so full—is less baggy in appearance. To put the blanket on, one
takes hold of the longer upper edge with both hands, and bending
forward, draws it up somewhat above the head, so that its weight
is distributed equally on both sides, and therefore it does not drop
when the belt (usually a strap of tanned buffalo hide) is worn to
confine the folds about the hips. Though Indian women always
belt their blankets, men never do except on their wanderings. In the
under side of the belt or girdle at the back there is a slit through
which a knife, in its sheath, is carried. Beneath the folds of the
blanket, above the belt, women carry their children or other belong-
ings. The blanket serves both as covering for the head and, in a
way, as veil. When the women are at work it is allowed to fall
over the belt in order that they may move their arms freely. As I
have said already, men use belts but rarely. In the vicinity of their
villages the braves adopt a manner of wearing their blankets that
is peculiar to themselves. For instance, in order to have free use
of the right hand and to reveal the tattoo marks, usually on the right
breast, they take hold of their blanket or robe on the right side,
draw it from under the right arm across the body to the left hip;
the other half of the robe is brought forward with the left hand
which remains covered and holds that part, brought under from the
right, in its proper place.

Often these braves carry a fan in the right hand as they strut
about the village dressed in this way. That style is followed, how-
ever, only in warm weather. As these coverings are ornamented
with one or more colored stripes along the border of their narrower
sides that fall straight down in front, those stripes always attract
one’s attention. The buffalo robe is worn in the same way as the
blanket, i. e., lengthwise around the body, the head end brought over
from the right, the tail end carried forward from the left. But, as
buffalo robes are much heavier than blankets, the women use little
leather straps that are drawn through the robe and fastened, some-
what like the fastenings on a mantle, at the throat. This helps to
place the weight of the robe on the shoulders. Blankets, as well as
bison robes, are sometimes painted, but they are not as artistic,
because the woolen surface does not admit of detailed drawing. One
sees, usttally only on the back, red or yellow hands; these denote
“coups”; and red or yellow hoofprints, which denote horses stolen.
If the hoofprints are blue or black they indicate that the horses
were presented as gifts. The blanket is, as a rule, the Indians’ only
bed covering. Their pouch is made use of as a pillow. Having

36 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

taken off their moccasins and loosened their girdles or belts, they
are ready for bed.

The blankets, however, Indians are beginning to use as material
for coats, similar to the blanket coat worn by Americans. They
give to these garments the shape of a paletot with hood but without
buttons. They are held in place only by means of the belt. The
garment is cut in such a way that the colored stripes are used for
ornamentation. The straight edge with the stripes forms the lower
part of the coat; nay, even the strokes denoting the quality (1, 2, 3,
point blanket) are left in view; and stripes outline shoulder seams
and extend along the base of the hood. This kind of coat I saw
among the Herantsa,** the Crows, Assiniboin, Cree, Sauteurs, both
for children and young and old men; women and girls, on the con-
trary, do not wear them. The hood is pulled up in bad weather
and here and there one sees on the peak of one of these a feather
for decoration. Indians wear white, red, green, sky blue, and indigo
blue blankets. Special sizes are woven for children.

After a more extended acquaintance with the various tribes
one becomes observant and notices definite marks of distinction.
For instance, the Potawatomi skin is much darker than that of
other tribes in this region, their features less noble, their bearing
not so stately. They wear their hair loose and unkempt. The men
are fully clothed. They wear, usually, a coat and leggings of tanned
deerskin, the leggings having a broad, double projecting seam that
distinguishes the wearer from members of any other tribe.

Frequently they wind around their heads and loins woolen scarfs
or sashes that are embroidered with beads in a design of arrow
heads in different colors (called, therefore, ceinture a fleche). The
same design, both in drawing and in color, appears also in old Mex-
ican paintings; the colors, in most instances, are white, black, and red.

The Iowa are a more cleanly people than the Potawatomi; they
are also of a brighter color, handsomer, and more stately in bearing.
The men stiffen their hair with grease or loam and wear it pulled
back from the forehead in such a way that the brow, being entirely
exposed, appears very high. They do not wear the shirt of deer-
skin nor do their leggings have the broad projecting seam, but the
latter are often trimmed with beads. On the whole, they wear very
little clothing; in midsummer, with the exception of the breechcloth
and blanket, they wear no clothes at all. So I had at last my long-
desired opportunity to study the antique from living models.

Even during the first month of my stay in St. Joseph I had
chances every day to study Indians that came in bands from the

®a They were the Hidatsa; also called Belantse-etea. These are only dialectic variants of
the name Hidatsa.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 37

different neighboring tribes. It was the time when the yearly pay-
ments were made for the land extorted from them. As soon as
the father received the money for himself and members of his
family (the Iowa received $8 a head from the United States Indian
Agent) they came to St. Joseph to make their purchases, because
they could supply their needs there at more reasonable rates than with
the traders. Still many Indians were in debt to the latter and, in
that case, the traders had the first claim for payment.

The Indians came in increasing numbers, pitched their tents of
skins (or, as often happened, of white cotton cloth) in the depths
of the forest on their side of the river and had themselves ferried
across to St. Joseph. The first two occasions upon which I crossed
to the Indian settlement in that flatboat I came back in a most
unexpected way. The first time, a numerous band of Potawatomi was
on our bank, waiting to be put across. I had already bartered for
several articles and was just in the act of trading with one of those
Indians who had bought a rifle and therefore was offering his bow
and well-filled quiver for sale. We could not come to an agreement ;
he entered the flatboat together with many other members of his
tribe and all their horses, while I remained on shore watching the
animated scene.

As the boat was shoved off, the Potawatomi shouted to me, “Trade.”
I sprang into the boat among the horses, in order to conclude the
bargain on the other side of the Missouri. Then, as the ferryman
told me that boats would be on the river until late in the evening,
I went, with perfect ease of mind, in the forest to observe the Indian
settlement at nearer view. My attention was especially attracted
to some young people who were racing American horses they had
recently bought. These beautifully formed naked savages riding
bareback in a horse race along the sandy river shore I thought as
fine a sight as the Grecian horseman at the Parthenon, and much
more alive and intelligent. Their settlement I found not less inter-
esting. There were tents just set up in readiness for new arrivals;
others unpitched and bound on the horses in readiness for the tribe
departing. I remained such a long while in the midst of these
sights so welcome to me that it was evening before I returned to the
shore. There I found a group of Americans and Indians waiting
patiently but in vain for the ferryboat. Such a violent wind was
blowing on the river that, let us shout “over” as lustily as we could,
the ferryman would not attempt to cross while the waves were so
high. At last, after a long delay, the wind fell and we were taken
over, or rather we ourselves lent a hand to get the flatboat to the
other shore, for the river, even then, was very rough.

I was attracted, the second time, to the Indians’ side of the stream
by the escapade of a young Fox brave whom I could not see enough

38 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

of. It happened this way: I had been sitting for a long while on
the shore, observing a group of elderly warriors *° of the Fox Tribe
who were partaking freely of the whisky bottle while waiting for
another person of importance with whom they would be ferried
across. Their women were already asquat in the boat with their
goods and chattels. Suddenly a superb young brave, elegantly at-
tired, came galloping down the steep river bank and with a bound
landed in the boat with such force that the women started up
screaming. As I was drawing near to get a closer view of the
splendid horseman and his charger the young warrior dismounted,
in order to keep his horse under control during the crossing, but the
fiery animal, startled by the Indian’s throwing his red blanket over
his shoulders, leaped out of the flatboat. I caught him at once by
the bridle and quieted him. Neither by entreaties nor blows, how-
ever, could his owner get him again on the ferryboat; he shied at
the red blanket, and just having been purchased from a farmer, he
was not yet acquainted with the sounds of Indian speech.

What picturesque poses these two Fox Indians took! In order to
spare the beautiful horse further blows I gave the Indian to under-
stand that I would induce the animal to go aboard the flatboat; for
the brave’s eyes were blazing, his “blood was up”; he needed but little
more annoyance to bring his knife into play. Stroking the stamp-
ing, snorting beast and speaking kindly in English, I soon pacified
him and led him into the boat, and kept hold of the rein until we
arrived on the other side. The handsome brave swung himself at
once into the saddle and with a friendly Hou! Hou! he disappeared
in the forest.

Forms more beautiful than those I found among the Iowa Indians
I can not imagine, though I have been accustomed during my studies
from life for many years to all that is finest in the human form.
Another advantage was their habit of wandering about in a nude
condition, which contributed much toward the proud, easy bearing,
as well as to the natural, graceful movements that characterize the
Indian. No individuals of the white race can compare with them in
that regard. The Iowa arrange their hair in one or two braids on
the crown of their head and fasten thereon some eagle feathers or
other headgear. The women, on the contrary, part their hair above
the brow, draw it backward and bind it at the neck; then they braid
with that queue a cloth, either varicolored or else richly embroidered.
The younger girls, the elite among them, at least, arrange their hair
in two braids, one on each side of the head, that hang sometimes

10One of these Indians wore a beautiful collar with a bear’s claw, for which he asked
$12. That seemed to me too dear a price, so I postponed the purchase of such a badge
of distinction until a later time.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 39

at the back, sometimes in front, and are also often adorned with
bright-colored bands and beads.

Every Indian has straight black hair, dark brown eyes, copper-
colored skin, more or less dark, rather prominent cheek bones, and
small hands and feet. They rarely allow their beards to grow; in
fact, they have hardly any hair at all on their bodies and the little
that appears they very carefully pull out. When standing, an
Indian’s feet point directly in front of him; therefore, the foot-
prints of an Indian can be easily distinguished from those of a
white man. Any one who has had to walk a great deal through
tall grass or along narrow paths that animals use will understand
at once the advantage of placing the feet in that way.

Indians, including both sexes, have no tendency to obesity. Their
distinctive physical characteristics are, further, a robust, low-arched
chest and strong, compact limbs. Their attitudes and movements are
never awkward. Their hands, which are perfectly flexible and sup-
ple from their constant practice in the sign language, they use in
a manner particularly graceful. How often I have wished I was
a sculptor that I might memorialize in stone the stately pose of
certain figures and the masterful fall of the blanket.

The Oto, in speech as well as in outward characteristics, are a
kindred tribe to the Iowa. According to certain American philolo-
gists the Iowa belong to the Dakota Tribe.*”» From what I know of
their language that conclusion is incomprehensible to me. That the
Iowa in later years lived in the territory of the Dakota, west of the
Missouri, proves nothing. They were forced to withdraw to the
other side of the river by the combined tribes of Sauk and Fox
Indians.

The Sauk and the Fox Indians shave the hair entirely from the
crown of their heads and arrange what is left at the back in such
a way that it looks like a tuft or brush. Some of them leave the
long hair on their crowns for a support on which to fasten their
head adornments. The braves have a proud warlike mien. They
have this, at least, in common with the Potawatomi: they love the
Americans just as little. They have no outlook for the future that
inspires hope. Their thoughts dwell more on the past, when they
were independent and free. Their daughters are not as beautiful
as the maidens among the Iowa; consequently not so much exposed
to the temptations of the white man.

In the late autumn of 1848 the Missouri froze over to such a depth
that a four-horse team or sleighs laden with wood could cross with-
out the slightest danger. This icebound passageway gave to many
Americans easy access to the Indians’ forests, where they collected

*> JT, e., the Siouan stock.
81634—37——4

40 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

enormous amounts of firewood and took it away without compensa-
tion to the owners and sold it in the city. Finally the chief of the
Kickapoo ™ (the land of the Iowas begins at Wolf River) complained
to the United States land agents, who then had a prohibitory order
issued. The Americans act as though they think the Indian domain
is at their disposal for hunting and fishing as much as they lke
without being called to account; but if an Indian should be met
hunting, on what is really his own ancient native ground that he has
recently parted with, a bullet or a beating will certainly fall to his
share.

Near the end of the year 1848 about 30 lodges of Iowa Indians
camped in the forest across the river from St. Joseph.

They came to get the benefit of the clippings and cuttings of meat
and the wastage incident upon the hog-killing season. Since they
must live by hunting, the winter is a difficult time for the Indians,
and particularly grave in those forests where wild animals are well-
nigh exterminated. The buffalo and the elk have retreated long since
to regions farther west. Following the chase under such conditions,
in the frosts and mists over ground covered with snow and ice, is
extremely hard.

The chief of that band or kindred tribe of 30 Iowa families, or
lodges, was called Kirutsche. During the summer he had often vis-
ited me for several days at a time and taught me the Iowa dialect.
So I was already very well acquainted with him. He took much
pleasure in my eagerness to learn. Kirutsche was a man of middle
age, agreeable in manner, not tall but extremely agile. He had
seen a great deal of the world; had been received by Louis Philippe
himself in Paris.

As soon as Kirutsche was encamped and the entire settlement in
order, he came over immediately to invite me to a dance that was
to be given in his honor the next evening by some of his friends.
I accepted his invitation with delight.

It was the evening of December 15. As I was crossing the frozen
stream an ice-cold wind swept across the river, driving before it a
cloud of snowflakes.

In the forest I found many converging paths and did not know
which one would lead to Kirutsche’s tent. As soon, however, as I
was well into the wood, out of the howling wind, I heard the meas-
ured beating of a drum. Following in the direction of that sound,
I arrived in a short time at the lodge. I had expected to find a tent
of skins similar to those I had already passed, but this, I saw, was a
hut constructed of withes in elliptical form and overarched with
rush mats. At the top there was an opening for light and for the

u The Kickapoo a hundred years ago were the southeastern neighbors of the Sauk.
According to Lieutenant Pike they inhabited the region at the mouth of the Missouri in 1805.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 41

egress of smoke and cut low in one of the long sidewalls was another
that served for door. The latter was covered, as by a curtain, with
an animal pelt.

While I was standing before the hut, enjoying this interesting
picture, in the twilight, of Indians’ habitations in the primeval for-
est, I saw the form of a full-grown Indian come hurtling through
the doorway. Naked, as he was, he fell in a snowbank and lay
there, affording great amusement to the women and children who
had gathered around him. He had drunk too much whisky and
was in consequence hurled out of the hut for disturbing the company.

When I wished to go through the narrow door I found a great
tall Indian stationed there as guard. He was unwilling to let me in.
Kirutsche’s squaw, who had already seen me, called to her husband,
however, and he came at once to greet me. Kirutsche bade me sit
down beside his beautiful 16-year-old daughter Witthae.

Notwithstanding my enthusiasm for the moment, I realized that
my highest aims were being fulfilled; that after all my patient
endurance, after all reverses, hindrances, and weary persevering
years, I was at last in the midst of Indians; that I had found living
models for my study of the antique; notwithstanding my heightened
feeling under the consciousness of all this, I had to admit that this
charming Indian girl made a deep impression on me. We could ex-
change very few words, to be sure; though she understood English,
she was not willing to attempt conversation in that language; I could
speak still less “Pachotschie.” We had to converse, therefore, by
means of signs, and eyes. To express my good will I presented some
small gifts that I had taken along with me for that purpose. It was
then that I learned what I often put to the test later on: that one
becomes acquainted with Indians much more quickly if one does not
understand their speech.

My beautiful neighbor did not absorb all of my attention, however,
to the exclusion of the dance. Around a large fire that was burning
in the center of the lodge sat twenty men and young blades (called
“bannerets” by the Canadians and “bucks” by the Americans, be-
cause, at that age, their only occupation seems to be strolling about
with girls). At the upper end Kirutsche sat on the floor, just as all
Indians sit, with his legs crooked under him. Beside him were
grouped his special friends and two drummers who to the measured
drumbeats sang loud a repetition of “Oh!”

Two young men leaped, one behind the other, around the open
space between the fire and the circle of onlookers; each of them
holding back the blanket with his left hand, carried in his right a
slender whistle made of bone with which, inclining now to the
ground, now toward the heavens, then toward the fire, then toward

42 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

the guests, he blew a succession of harsh tuneless sounds. The entire
scene was in the highest degree animated and picturesque. I studied
it very carefully in all its details, got the impression complete, so
that, immediately afterwards, I was able to make a sketch true to life.

Then, varying the movements, the two performers (they really
cannot be called dancers) went slowly round the circle and ad-
dressed themselves to each of the older guests or to those who were
actually taking part (as distinguished from the mere spectators).
With the right hand they indicated the person to whom they would
speak, said something flattering, whereupon the latter would reply
“Hau” or “Hun” (both words drawled, the last one very nasal and
strongly aspirated; they are abbreviations for “yes”). After they
had spoken to every one in the circle and had repeated the bounding
and whistling act, the two young men and the drummers were re-
leved from further duty. However, before the new performers came
into action whisky was served, in a wooden cup, to inspirit the guests.

To avoid accidents, in case of inebriation, Witthae collected all
the knives (no Indian, man or woman, ever fails to carry a knife
at the belt) and hid them.

Between whiles, Kirutsche sat down beside me to chat and to make
me better acquainted with his daughter. I made him a present of
some lead and gunpowder that he greatly needed. Then he said
something to Witthae, who immediately took out of her pouch
(which served also for pillow) a daguerreotype and showed it to me.
Both she and her father were immensely pleased when I recognized
at once a likeness of the chief.

“Paris—Louis Philippe—big King—French”, said Kirutsche; and
made the sign meaning “received as a gift.” Witthae pressed the
picture into my hand, giving me to understand that she was pre-
senting it to me. Her mother (Wuotschimm) made known to me
with nods and winks that I might kiss her daughter, but Witthae,
seeing that I was about te put my arm around her, sprang up
laughing and slipped out of the tent. Then all had a great laugh
at me. But I was only saying to myself: “Just -wait a bit!”

In about three hours the whisky flagon was empty, the people
were tired, and the guests began to disperse. I was hoping all the
while that Witthae would come back, but I hoped in vain. To search
for her in other tents I did not like to do. As finale, an old witch
of a woman who had become intoxicated gave a solo dance to the
universal amusement of the spectators.

With her long hair wildly disheveled, she stood with back
bent and elbows akimbo, moving her arms alternately backward
and forward, while with feet close together she hopped, now to
the right, now to the left, keeping time to the measured drumbeats
and her own outcry.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 43

Then I had to search out my way home through the forest. There
was sufficient light, I admit, to show huge, dusky objects rising out
of the snow but not enough to enable me to find a path. I wrapped
my riding cloak close about me and stamped cautiously along in the
direction of the river, sometimes climbing over a fallen tree, some-
times wading kneedeep in a snowdrift, but exulting all the way
over the thought of having spent an evening in a lodge.

For three months I was a regular visitor at that camp and spent
many a day and night in the variously constructed dwellings. The
tents were, for the most part, conical in form and made of skins in
the usual Indian fashion. There were among them, however, some
lodges constructed of osier twigs or withes and covered with rush
mats. There were others, besides, constructed with pieces of bark
with a roof of the same material; i. e., strips of bark laid across the
top. The last-named hut could be used only when roof and sides
were covered with snow.

In this Indian settlement I observed customs and modes of life.
I sketched also as much as was possible during the cold winter season.

In severe weather I remained indoors, made portrait sketches of
interesting faces, and tried to learn the language as quickly as
possible. My linguistic attempts gave occasion for a great many
jokes and much pleasantry. I wrote the words down, always, in
order to learn them by rote and the better to impress them. My
reading their words off in that way afforded the Iowa much diver-
sion. I was never able to get a copy of the dictionary in “Pachot-
schie” that their missionary (a Protestant) had compiled for the
purpose of teaching the language in the schools. When attempting
to write the pronunciation of words correctly I made use of all the
languages I knew: For instance, the Iowa dialect has the English
th, many nasal sounds from the French, the German u, r, i, but no
sound for f or 1. On the whole, I found the dialect a soft, melodious
language.

1849

On New Year’s morning an old squaw came to sell me a quiver
of many good arrows; her husband now has a gun. After the sale
was effected she took me aside and gave me to understand, partly
with words, partly by signs, that she had a young and beautiful
girl she wished me to marry. I was to come in the evening and
see her. Being fond of these people and having given no occasion
for mistrust or quarreling, I did not once consider the danger of
rambling about the forest at night among so-called savages.

Curious and on the alert for any adventure, I went at nightfall
along the way I now knew well to the tent designated. There I

44 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

found the old woman with her entire family squatting around the
fire. She bade me sit down beside an exceedingly young but attrac-
tive girl, and made the sign meaning, “That is your wife!” The
girl was yet a child; at least, no more than 13 years old. Anene
shrouded herself in her shabby blanket and began to sob from fright.
I was much embarrassed. I tried to calm the shy girl and to comfort
her with gifts of candy and other trifles. Meanwhile the old squaw
sent for a young Indian who had learned very good English in
Johnson’s school in Kentucky. Now the transaction began: First,
the marriage contract, namely, to the mother a pony, and in addi-
tion a new woolen blanket; to the bride a complete outfit of new
clothes, good food, and no beatings(!); to the remaining relatives
a sack (70 pounds) of meal. I was struck dumb with amazement;
accordingly the old woman, thinking, from my silence, that I was
satisfied with the terms, desired to have mentioned, as an after-
thought, some sugar and coffee for herself. Then, quite unexpect-
edly, came Witthae with her younger sister, Niukigreme, and sat
down just behind me. Witthae had heard about the transaction
and now came to let me know that she was aware of what was going
on. I gave her but one look; she gave me but a glance, yet that
revealed what she had been careful, until now, to conceal.

She and her sister ran out again without having spoken a word.
Then Anene ran out; for fear, most likely, of having her ears boxed
by the jealous Witthae. Nor would she come back again; her mother
might send for her as much as she liked, she would not come.

After waiting a long time in vain, I took myself off. In the wood
outside I came into a tempest; trees were crashing, snowflakes fall-
ing thick and fast, and the night had become so black that darkness
seemed almost palpable. Under such circumstances it was impossible
to find my way home without a lantern. So I returned to the fire.
Kennachuk, Anene’s brother (all members of the same band or lodge
call one another brother and sister, father and mother, whether that
relation really exists or not) prepared a place for me to sleep and
gave me a pillow. I wrapped myself in my cloak and lay down,
but it was far into the night before I went to sleep. I had too much
to think about; though this affair was at an end, I was sure of
Witthae instead.

In just such manner as I have described the Indians give girls
in marriage—or sell them, if they do not consent of their own free
will. One or two horses is the price that makes a binding contract.
When horses are not included, the marriage has no binding force
either for the wife or her parents.”

“ As horses were not originally known te North American savages, the bargain made
with commodities must also have been valid. With the coming of the horse an Indian
woman advanced in value.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 45

In the event that the daughter runs off, she must take the horses
back to the son-in-law; either his own or other horses equally good.
For $30 I might have had Anene! Reasonable purchase! That is,
if she were worth anything at all.

I was often surprised to hear young Iowa speak such good
English. I asked Uotschetsche, one of the young men, whether they
were taught so well at the mission. He said not so; but at John-
son’s school in Kentucky. That man Johnson appears to be a
great friend to the Indians (a rare exception among Americans).
Out of his own means he has founded a school for Indian boys,
where the youths are taught the English language, reading, writ-
ing, arithmetic, some geography and history. Whether they re-
ceive also religious training I do not know. I have found not the
slightest trace of Christian belief in the schoolboys; still less, of
better moral standards.

When the boys at Johnson’s school reach a certain age they are
required to learn a trade. However well meant that may be, the
plan will not prove a success so long as the Indians are not given
the same political rights as the white population in America. What
is the use of being shoemakers, tailors, etc., when one is discriminated
against as an isolated class? In their present state of poverty their
old clothes serve them very well: are, really, more suitable to the
conditions under which they live.

I would say that such training would not serve its purpose even
in the useful trades, such as blacksmiths, armorers, tanners, rope
makers and similar occupations, because an Indian skilled in such
a trade would never work for an American; the latter would not
receive him as a partner; he would never be able to establish him-
self as his own master for lack of capital; and among his own
people he could not find sufficient employment or sufficient pay.

When these Kentucky protégés come back to their tribes they
soon learn the truth as to their prospects. They then become the
most unhappy, the most indolent, the most disregarded among their
people. With their new-fashioned ideas they find no means of
support; they are not farmers, huntsmen, or protectors; still less,
warriors. In a word, they are ruined as Indian braves.

Judging by the many examples that I have observed, I shoud say
that, notwithstanding his good intentions and self-sacrifice, Colonel
Johnson has accomplished no good end. Nor will he as long as his
fellow-countrymen do not receive the Indians as their social equals.
Indian blood would certainly do the Americans no damage; Indian
blood is purer than that of thousands of native-born Americans as
well as of naturalized immigrants. The Indian, as the real natives
of the land, would have a more ardent attachment to the soil, a

46 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

deeper love for the nation, than, for instance, the Irishman who
never surrenders his loyalty to the Emerald Isle.

The American is an aristocrat only skin deep. That sort is more
foolish, more absurd in his pretensions and more immoral than an
aristocrat by birth. The nobles have rendered excellent service.
Real nobility serves as incentive to honor and distinction, but never
when good birth is judged only by the difference in color of a man’s
skin.

At the end of January 1849 the first gold seeker showed himself in
St. Joseph. For a long time I, and many other people as weil,
had regarded this much-discussed discovery of gold as a make-
believe on the part of the United States Government to get the
newly acquired region of California quickly populated. However,
when a certain Widmer arrived here in the autumn, having been
sent on by Solothurn von Sutter in California to conduct his wife
and daughter over the prairie, no one could longer doubt the truth
of the reports. The first arrivals from the East were two rich
merchants from New York. They had traveled in a sleigh direct
from their home to this place (more than 3,000 miles), in order to
be the first to reach California. As they traveled westward the
gold fever mounted; they were wealthy speculators—not duffers.

In the main, I think most of the gold seekers of this year had more
ample means than those of later years; it was the more necessary
also, because nobody hereabouts was prepared for such a large num-
ber of emigrants. The prices of provisions, cattle, and goods be-
came exorbitant.

The farmer fixed no price for his products but advanced them
higher and higher with each new band of adventurers. A bushel
ef corn, formerly only 15 cents, advanced to $1; a barrel, containing
5 bushels, was $5. Ham, formerly from 3 to 7 cents a pound, was
now 12 cents; butter, from 8 to 25 cents. Oftentimes bread could
not be had at all. Half of the farmers were again on their feet
financially. Many of them, in spite of their preemption rights,
were so poor that they could not pay the State for their land when
the payments fell due; therefore a law had to be passed for their
relief, whereby they were allowed to make payments in installments.
But for that measure, most of the elderly farmers in the upper
counties would have been bankrupt and their properties, together
with the improvements they had made on them, would have fallen
into the hands of speculators.

When the Missouri was open to navigation in the middle of Feb-
ruary several thousand of these adventurers, all in a heat from goid
fever, streamed into St. Joseph from all parts of the more northerly
States, from the south by way of Panama, and many from Europe
besides. Here the steamboat stopped and unloaded passengers, mules,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 47

horses, cattle, vehicles, and commodities. The landing place was
animated to an extraordinary degree.

The city was packed so full of people that tents were pitched
about the city and along the opposite bank of the river in such
numbers that we seemed to be besieged by an army. Every house
lot that was enclosed became a stable and brought in money to the
owner. Widmer also came back; as Sutter’s family had taken the
route through Panama, instead of coming to Highland, he was now
conducting a large company of gold seekers.

Because of the advance in prices, many poor emigrants felt com-
pelled to give up their plans, at least for that year. They were
obliged to return home or else remain here and seek employment.
Many more, because they were unacquainted with this new mode of
life and the conditions under which they must travel, wrecked their
draft animals and for that reason had to turn back. Most of them
made the mistake of loading their wagons too heavily and also of
having begun their journey across the prairie too early, before the
erass was high enough. These last-mentioned emigrants were forced,
at best, to make a detour with their horses, mules, and cattle that
greatly overtasked their teams. Instead of beginning with a maxi-
mum speed of 14 miles a day they went oftentimes twice that dis-
tance—by far too much, when setting out on a long journey. These
ill-advised beginnings caused much laughter on the part of observers
but were anything but pleasant for the emigrants themselves. At-
tempts to drive the obstinate wild ass caused, frequently, a great
hullabaloo.

Many a time I have seen one single ass turn to scorn a dozen of
those inexperienced drivers. They might jerk and pull as much as
they pleased, the ass would not budge until they had mastered the
art of driving in the right way. With oxen matters were often quite
as bad; until their drivers learned how to put on the yoke, could
crack the whip and knew which side was meant by “tschi” and which
by “ho” the beasts gave occasion for much cursing and swearing.

Not less entertaining was the horror many of these emigrants had
of the Indians, and even of the pioneers. They went about the streets
heavily armed. They never failed to carry pistols (revolvers) and
long knives in their belts. The inhabitants of St. Joseph, on the
contrary, had more to fear from these adventurers than they had to
fear from us.

And their golden dreams! Not one of them would return with less
than $50,000! In California, that El Dorado, gold could be scratched
out with the nails, without difficulty, with almost no work at all.
There was no need of taking money along, if one but had his outfit ;
Indians one paid with the whip. After the fare was paid for being
ferried across the Missouri, there was no further need of money, they

48 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

said. Under illusions, created by gold fever, they did not consider
that on the way out they might be forced by accidents to trade or to
barter; that they would not be given their food and clothing in
California; that they, even in the gold region, might suffer for lack
of money. In their delirium brought on by gold fever they did not
consider these matters at all.

Play and drink was the order of their day. In proportion to the
promiscuous throng, however, there was not much quarreling, horse
stealing, or swindling. “Oh, Californy, you are the land for me”,
was their song, their rallying cry, their constant thought. It hap-
pened, however, that a conductor who had been engaged by several
bands of emigrants gambled away their combined funds instead of
providing the necessary outfit.

That was a jolly, stirring time. They tarried in St. Joseph until
June. Our tradesmen did a splendid business. About the same time
the Mormons assembled near Kanesville, 8 miles from Council Bluffs,
in readiness to wander on to Salt Lake and found their new Zion.
The quiet that followed this hubbub was almost unbearable. To
make the contrast all the more noticeable, most of the tradespeople
were off on new speculations and the farmers were busy on their
lands making preparation for the next migration to the west.

These travelers brought cholera with them from St. Louis; in
consequence, several of our population lost their lives. Up to this
time I had been perfectly well, even immune from cholera, although
my young partner who slept in the same bed with me had such a
severe attack that his convulsions awoke me. He died; I remained
in good health still.

On June 4, about 10 o’clock at night, a frightful storm broke over
the city and caused great destruction. Such a flood of rain streamed
down the street in front of the house where I lived that the swift
current made it dangerous for any one to stand there. Black Snake
River demolished dikes, bridges, and houses; my dwelling was sur-
rounded by water that found no outlet. During the whole night I
was forced to work strenuously to keep the tide from rising further.
Next morning I was wretchedly cold in spite of the summer heat;
even at midday I was freezing cold. My illness became more grave.
I had an attack of bilious fever and spent several dreadful nights
entirely alone, without assistance. In my delirium I fancied the
house was falling in, that the bed was sinking under me. When I
became once more rational, I found that I had fallen out of bed and
was clinging convulsively to the fireplace.

But ill weeds grow apace. In a few weeks the doctor had allayed
the fever. As an after effect, my feet were so terribly swollen
that they felt like lead; standing or walking was painful. The
thought of having to submit to slow death from dropsy was ex-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 49

cruciating to me. So near the fulfillment of my aims and not to be
able to accomplish them! I would rather shoot myself than to watch
the steady swelling of my legs. But the water did not rise further;
after three long months I was again restored to health.

When I was strong enough once more to crawl up Black Snake Hill
and stand beside the grave of little La Fleur I looked out over the
widespreading view of that Indian domain—the forest with which I
associated such a throng of memories—and felt my heart quicken
again with purpose; I took courage anew. ‘Poland is not yet lost”,
I said to myself. “Never despair!”

Indians who came to see me in the autumn served as models for
sketches and portraits. First came six of the most notable Fox
Indians with their interpreter, asking that I put down in writing for
them a message to the squire in this place through whose assistance
they might get some horses that had strayed. As I wrote their
signatures, each in his turn touched my quill pen as a sign that he
consented to or authorized what was written. I took the greatest
pleasure in those grandees; they bore themselves with a dignity so
natural, so distinguished, that I was filled with admiration. With
all sorts of pretexts I tried to detain them; I found in them delicate
tact in manners, nobility of feature, and dignity in bearing. Un-
fortunately I did not take down their names. It occurred to me
afterwards how frequently I forgot names, my memory having been
too much overtaxed with the multitude of new matters.

From a trader I bought a painted buffalo robe. I had one already
in my possession that was adorned with a sun, but the figures in the
other were still more interesting.

The so-called “Indian summer” was wonderful that autumn; cold
weather began late. It was the 22d of December before the Iowa
came and spread their tents. The river was not yet frozen over and
the poor Indians did not have enough money to pay the ferryman.
They waited the livelong day, gazing with longing at the city across
thestream. I was waiting most impatiently the hour of their arrival.
Several whom I knew shouted across to me, “Istamantugra wagya-
chere.” I sprang into a skiff and was rowed across. Then all begged
to be taken back with me. First of all, I inquired for Kirutsche. He
was not there. Then I went into all the tents to see whether other
intimate acquaintances of mine had come. I selected the handsomest
for models, so that I might go on with my studies. Until the river
froze, I was obliged to be ferried across each time when I wished to
paint a portrait of any one, and also to pay the person’s fare back.

One evening, when the wilderness was irresistibly beautiful, I
wandered in the forest, paid some visits, listened to the enamored
lads as they made love to the girls with their flutes or made signals
by blowing through their clenched fists. I, too, had a trysting place

50 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

with the dainty little Niukogra near a hollow tree on the bank of the
Missouri, whose waters refreshed this entire region. Several small
herds of the most noble wild animals came there to graze, happily
unconscious of their woeful fate.

The moon never shone so brilliantly, the trees never seemed so
huge, nor life so romantic as at that spot. I sat there for a long time
with the dear little wanton on the trunk of a fallen tree, under the
spell of the moon, mirrored in the stream before us, and of her
languishing eyes. I asked many questions but wrote nothing down.
We sat there until late into the night, then went into the tent,
wrapped ourselves in a cloak or blanket, and those who could fell
asleep.

1850

On January 1 I began the New Year well by remaining in camp
the livelong day and sketching both the exterior and interior of
tents. At last, January 9, Kirutsche came, but at first he was alone.
He made a proposal to me: if I would marry his daughter, Witthae,
and establish myself in their domain, I should receive from his tribe
more than 2,000 acres of land, secured to me by authority of the
chiefs and the United States land agent. JKirutsche had spoken to
me about this before. He wished to work; standing with folded
arms was of no use. Neither did working by himself advance him
at all; he had, then, to support all his relatives. He could not
possess anything for himself alone, nor could he save anything,
while the others were hungry. In order that he might derive some
benefit from his labors, he wished me to form a partnership with
him in the purchase of a stone-cutter’s business that we knew of
and work it ourselves.

On making the proposal he said emphatically that I was never
to begin giving any of our possessions to the others, because they
would then constantly beg without doing anything for us in return.
The Iowa, he said, were not yet accustomed to agricultural labor.
Their landed property, moreover, was not secured to them as mine
would be, if the title was signed by the United States land agent;
land so secured the Iowa could no longer offer to the United States
for sale. I must admit that the plan rather appealed to me; to
Witthae still more. I knew that what he told me about the land
was true (improvements are included in the terms only that the
land may not be obtained by speculators and thieves for their own
advantage, but by settlers). The greatest difficulty was how to rid
ourselves of the hungry Indians. Well, we would plant no corn.
They could not take the stone from us. Besides, the stone-cutter’s
place was on the Missouri, a long distance from their village. He
who ventures nothing, gains nothing, I thought; in all matters,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 51

there is much to be said on both sides. Furthermore, my parents-
in-law pleased me quite well; they were industrious, good-tempered,
and honest.

So, when Witthae came with her mother on January 10, I received
her as my wife. Her mother served hot coffee, fried meat, and
bread.#® White Cloud, chief of the Iowa, came as guest to witness
our union. Next day I purchased her outfit that she might clothe
herself in new garments throughout. I bought the usual short shirt
or blouse of red calico, a woolen underskirt and pantalettes, a red
blanket, a choice of large pearl beads for necklaces, and many col-
ored bands for her hair and for her costume. Later I bought wool
for knitting and smaller beads for girdle and garters..4 Though
Witthae herself would rather have adopted the European mode, I
preferred that she dress as an Indian girl. I liked the Indian style
of dress both for its charm and its utility.

Everything went well until the mild winter weather made fur-
ther slaughtering of hogs inadvisable; then, since the Iowa could no
longer profit by the bits of meat trimmed from the slaughtered
swine, one family after another went away—Kirutsche and Wuot-
schime among them. Floating ice made their passage across the
river very dangerous. Soon Witthae began to feel like a captive
bird. She had no one but me to entertain her. All my efforts to
cheer her up proved unavailing. She became melancholy, obviously
homesick. She gazed continually with tear-dimmed eyes into the
distance beyond the river. Wrapped in her blanket she sat, dream-
ing of her earlier freedom; paying no attention to my assurances
that I would take her over to her people as soon as the weather
permitted.

Luckily, her mother’s sister came one evening, bringing her daugh-
ters with her. Witthae was once more cheerful. In the hope of
relieving my wife from further attacks of homesickness I invited
her aunt to remain with us a while and help us to spend the time
until we should settle down in a place nearer Witthae’s people. It
was arranged, moreover, that Kirutsche was to come to us upon his
return from a visit to some friends in the Fox Indian tribe and assist
us, when we transferred our residence to the land promised.

Then, imagine my astonishment, some mornings later, when I
found that my bird had flown. Witthae had gone, taking her rela-
tives and her belongings with her. I was in the front room shaving,
when, all at once, it occurred to me that there was an unwonted still-
hess in our living room. After I had finished I went in there. I

18The women are especially fond of coffee drinking. They think it conserves their
strength.
14 She had, most likely, the same costume, originally of soft deer skin.

52 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

could hardly believe my eyes, in spite cf undoubted proof to the ©
contrary. There was no possibility of doubt: their goods and chat- —
tels had been taken along with them. I pondered: should I hasten —
after her, stop her, plead with her to be gracious and come back to —
me? Never! I loved her; I had taken her in sincerity with good —
intention; I had treated her well; I hoped, therefore, that she would —
come back. But at evening she had not returned. I thought it be-
neath my dignity to go after her.

Two weeks later my mother-in-law came, but did not bring her
daughter. She said Kirutsche would bring her back.

“Tf she does not wish to come of her own accord, she may remain
at home,” I told her mother. Wuotschime was very much grieved.
I held to my resolve. ‘That was the end of my romantic dream of
love and marriage with an Indian. Brief joy!

Now, all at once, St. Joseph was spoiled for me. I went 14 miles
farther north to the town of Savannah. If the emigrants to Cali-
fornia had appealed to me more I should have supplied myself with
funds to go out with them, try my fortune in El Dorado, and then,
with additional wealth, be all the more able to complete my work in
art. But the gold seekers appealed to me even less this year than
last. The route along which they traveled west was now known,
as well as the expense of the necessary outfit and the best means of
getting forward rapidly. The multitudes on the way to Califor-
nia, therefore, were poorer men, on the whole, and much more ava-
ricious than the first adventurers. “Gold or death; gold, by all
means”, was their war cry. The farmers withheld their forage
crops, for they knew that most of the gold seekers, in their fevered
haste, would come on too early and be obliged to tarry a while in
St. Joseph until the prairie grass was sufficient for their draft
animals.

The emigrants were in great distress: The grass simply would not
grow; the weather was unfavorable. As waiting in the city cost
so much, they dispersed themselves on the farms, where, though they
found food just as dear in price, they did not have to pay for the
ground on which to pitch their tents. Many farmers, for the sake
of exorbitant profits, sold so much of their produce that they them-
selves had nothing left and, oftentimes, had to wait until the next
harvest. Swine were so rare and so dear that there were no pork
houses the next winter; all hog meat had to be ordered from St.
Louis, sometimes from Cincinnati.

As I have said, if the emigrants this year had pleased me better,
I should have gone with them, for the possession of gold would
have been a great assistance in the accomplishment of my purpose.
Furthermore, I might have gone from California to Mexico and
have been able to follow my original plan to study the Comanche.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 53

But, in the first place, what assurance had I that I should accom-
plish this three months’ journey in safety or that I should be suc-
cessful in California, either in trade or in delving for gold? One
had only to be acquainted with the majority of these wanderers and
realize their passion for gold to form a very good idea as to one’s
chance. If a man were lucky enough to stuff his pockets with gold
dust was he certain of keeping any of it? When people undertake
a journey of 3,000 miles on foot with a wheelbarrow what avari-
cious greed must urge them on! Of what doubtful undertakings
are such men not capable!

Almost every newspaper brought accounts of murders in the
“diggings.” My principal reason for not going, however, was my
knowledge of conditions in Missouri: I knew that I could continue
my studies among Indians and the wild animals in native forests
nearer at hand. I did not need to wander so far west. If I had
gone to California I should have profited, even at best, only by
the opportunity to travel; I should not have been able to finish my
studies. Often one does not value what one sees every day and,
precisely for that reason, one goes forth to seek at a distance what
can be had near at hand.

April. Savannah, although founded 8 years earlier than St.
Joseph, is, on account of the latter’s advantageous situation on the
river, not nearly so large or important. In this land, the size of
cities, not favorably situated either on a railway or navigable stream,
is determined by the business enterprise of the region round about
them. The fruits of the field are profitable or not, according to the
transportation cost to a better market. Many farmers, too far re-
moved from markets, do not harvest their crops except to feed and
clothe themselves and their families; therefore they are unable ever
to better their condition.

The rapid growth of St. Joseph has caused the abandonment of
Jamestown (Jeintown), a former settlement on an eminence half-
way between St. Joseph and Savannah. Competition was too great.

The empty tavern and some heaps of rubbish are still there as
testimony to the town’s early downfall.

St. Joseph was founded just eight years ago (laid out in 1842) but
already takes precedence over all neighboring towns, even Weston.
St. Joseph’s favorable situation on the Missouri makes it a ren-
dezvous for Mountaineers as well as the rallying point for emigrants
to Oregon and California. When direct connection with the Missis-
sippi is established by the projected railway to Palmyra the town
will have every prospect for a bright future, unless the great con-
tinental from New York to San Francisco takes a route that leaves
St. Joseph aside. In that event the growth of the town will be
brought to a standstill; its very existence may be endangered. St.

54 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Louis’ early bright prospects are becoming daily more clouded.
Trade with the North is now diverted almost entirely to Chicago,
If, in spite of all efforts and sacrifices on the part of her citizens,
St. Louis should not be made a principal station on the great con-
tinental railway, this emporium of the West, the future seat of the
United States Government, would pass as a tale that is told.

St. Joseph, as well as St. Louis, is indebted to the fur traders
for its beginning. In 1834 Joseph Robidoux, as I have mentioned
already, bought this trading post from the American Fur Co. and
from this point carried on an exchange trade with the neighboring
Indian tribes. His first house stood at the end of a ridge near the
mouth of the Black Snake, as the stream is called from its tortuous
course through the black shadows of the woodland. Canadians
called the place at an earlier time, Le Post du Serpent Noir. Robi-
doux’s old storehouse is still standing; it looks like a stall. In fact,
the place is now used for that purpose. His dwelling house was on
the other side of town. On its site now stands a tavern that was
built by County Clerk Fowler. .

As soon as the increasing number of country towns and farms
began to close in upon Joe Robidoux and to create competition in
the fur trade he decided to buy 160 acres to which he held pre-
emption rights and to sell the land for city property. At first he
sold lot for lot at very reasonable prices, in order to induce people
to buy them; for instance, he would sell a lot for $10 or for a yoke
of oxen. Then, according to the convenient location of the plots
in question, he steadily advanced the prices. He is now an im-
mensely wealthy property holder, but his 60 papooses, his seven
white children, and several brothers in rags and tatters continually
consume his substance. Two years ago the city lots had advanced
threefold in value.

Now a building lot with 40 feet front and a depth of 140 feet,
abutting in the rear on an alley, is worth from $300 to $600.

In Savannah I had an especially good opportunity to observe
some of the religious carryings-on: camp meetings, baptism by
“sprinkling” or “ducking in mud holes” was the order of the day.
It was certainly a sight that reflects little credit on these so-called
Christians. This religious mischief is sometimes carried to such
extremes that an impressionable woman with a delicate nervous
organism is driven out of her mind by the frantic rage of the
preacher! Each claims to be right; each threatens with hell and

15 St. Louis’ prospects have been much improved by the railway line from Cincinnati ;
at the time I wrote the above, Illinois, out of jealousy, refused to grant the railway
company right of way. But universal condemnation of that course brought the Suckers
to a better mind.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 55

damnation. This sort of thing influences many of their adherents
to seek other churches.

On August 7 I bought a dainty black mare with white feet—
all four white. She is a genuine mustang. What a joy to wander
about the forest, where Fashion carries me to distances I could
not otherwise accomplish and so widens the sphere of my observa-
tions. With Fashion’s aid I have been able to visit often the
Hundred-and-Two River (so named because it is said to be 102 miles
long), to bathe in its clear waters, to sketch groups of trees on its
shores that are hardly surpassed by those on the Cahokia.

Potawatomi from Kansas and those on the land known as the
“Platte Purchase” visited one another frequently. I made sketches
of some of them and, in exchange, furnished the young fellows with
10-cent pieces of rods out of which they make arrows for the
hunting season.

At 20 feet they hit small objects with great accuracy; at a greater
distance the least movement of the air may exert an adverse effect.
At 100 feet they fly the arrows with great skill but can not be sure
of piercing the heart of the animal.

In the autumn newspapers began to publish articles about a plan
that was being considered by the United States Government, in con-
nection with the highway to California and Oregon, to enter into
negotiations with the Indian tribes concerned and for that purpose to
invite the most notable men among them to a conference next sum-
mer at Fort Laramie. At once it occurred to me that I might enjoy
an agreeable adventure and at the same time make it profitable
if I would occasionally buy good horses, ride about the country on
horseback, sell the animals at a profit next spring at Salt Lake, then,
on my return, attend, if possible, that most interesting assembly at
Fort Laramie and witness the signing of the treaty.

1551

The speculation in horses did not succeed particularly well.
Farmers held back their corn and hay for the expected emigrants;
the maintenance of my five pads came too high. Finally, because
of bad news from California, not nearly so many adventurers came
in the spring, but many more Oregon farmers who brought their
cattle and provisions with them.

Then, of course, horses declined in value. I lost a great deal of
money. The cost of feeding the animals was out of proportion to
the amount their work brought me. I was too fond of them and
spent too much taking care of them.

One misfortune after another induced me to sell the horses and
give up the idea of going to Salt Lake. First, I suffered the loss

81634—37—_5

56 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BUEEI15 |
of an excellent mare that I lent to an acquaintance who wished to
attend a Christmas ball at Rochester. After he had run a race on
a bet, after the manner of Americans, and over a rough, frozen road,
he left my fine animal standing in front of a public house all in a
sweat and without the protection of a blanket. In spite of all efforts
to save her, the mare died from pneumonia. I suffered another
mishap in a pasture where I allowed my four horses to exercise on
a beautiful March day. A boy took great delight in playing tricks
on the spirited animals and, to give himself further amusement, set
a dog on them just to see them run an extended course. Having
become once frightened, they did not stop running for several miles,
until they were far into the forest. After a long search I came up
with them at last but, as I drew nearer, calling gently to them, and
was sure of getting hold of at least one of them, whinnying, they
turned abruptly about, extended their legs, shook their manes and,
in a trice, had disappeared from view.

For the reason that Lily, one of my mares, appeared to be going
in the direction of the place where she had been bred, I thought I
should find all of them next morning at her old home. So early
in the day I hired a horse and rode over there, through a region
that was unfamiliar to me. My road, a most romantic one, led
through a magnificent forest, over two beautiful streams, and across
a waste. Not a trace of my horses anywhere! Then I remained at
home two days, hoping that my runaways might be induced by
hunger to return or else that some news might come to me concern-
ing their whereabouts. But they did not return. No news came.
On the fifth day after their flight I hired another horse and rode
to the place where two other mares of mine had been bred, i. e., to
the “Round Prairie” on the high road to Fort Kearney near Newark.
There, fully 9 miles from the city, I heard specifically that they had
been seen. Fortunately, they had kept together and were so wild
and spirited that no one could catch them; otherwise I should cer-
tainly have lost one or the other. A young farmer who had seen
the two colts and knew the range of their earlier pasture mounted
his horse and helped me trace them. For several hours we followed
them from one farm to another. It was perfectly evident that they
wanted to play with their former companions and were searching
for them, and as the brutes went visiting around in their old neigh-
borhood and tarried here and there with their former playmates
we drew constantly nearer.

Still following the trace we came, late in the evening, into the
highroad again, where dust made it impossible any longer to dis-
tinguish their tracks.

Well, I spent the night in Newark. Next morning, the sixth day
of their “spree,” I was up with the sun to follow any trace I might

|
}

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 57

find on the highway. Over a wide stretch I searched but could find
neither on the right nor on the left any tracks made by sixteen feet.
I did find a place beside the road where they had lain down together,
but on what night? That was a puzzle too difficult for my wits to
solve. My only possible clue was fresh dung. After breakfast I
mounted my hired pad with the intention of going home, hoping that
my straying animals would instinctively return, finally, to the place
where they had received good nurture and rich forage. Upon my
inquiry at a farm on the highway I was told that toward sunset the
previous evening four horses—according to the description, they
must be mine—were seen prancing along the way in the direction of
Savannah.

A little farther on, where the road from Marysville branches off
from the highroad to Fort Kearney, I heard from a countryman
living there that during the night four horses wanted to rest on the
straw lying in front of his fence, that the roan mare (my Bet) had
already lain down but, for fear that their presence might tempt his
own beasts to break out, he had driven them away. Which way they
went he did not know.

“Home, of course, to their own comfortable stalls,” I said to myself.

I rode rapidly back to Savannah in happy expectation. There I
found no trace of my runaways’ return. So, after I had eaten, I
had to mount a fresh horse and renew the search. Following my
latest clue, I rode until the evening in all directions, through forest
and over plain, without result. Vexed and tired, I returned to the
Savannah road. Suddenly I was aroused from my ill-humored
reverie by hearing some one call out as I was passing a farm,
“Hulloa, Dutchman!” Turning my head, I saw a man sitting on
his fence. He called out again, “Look here! Are them your
horses?” Sure enough, there they were, evidently half-starved.
There was no grass. At best, they could only have fed on tender
buds just appearing on the shrubs. Besides, they had been racing
about the country without rest.

Several hours earlier, the man said, those hungry horses had
stopped at his fence, cast longing looks toward his stacks of corn,
and then made known their desires by an eager neighing. He took
them in, because he had heard that I was searching for them. The
birds were caught, to be sure, but I had trouble still to get them in
hand. So wildly they ran about, so persistently parried our efforts
on every hand, that I thought they must be possessed with the devil.

Finally we got them in a corner and held them in fear by cracking
a whip until I had bridled them. I saddled the filly, because she
remained uncontrollable longer than the others. Then I paid the
man for his assistance and set out home on a gallop. Never in my

58 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

life have I ridden as fast; the horses seemed really running a race
with one another to see which could reach home first. I thought
I should be jerked off the saddle.

I had hardly got my team of four in good condition again when
they ran away with me and plunged with the vehicle down a hill.
To practice driving a four-in-hand and to accustom the horses to
that mode of traveling I took drives every day in the vicinity. I
got excellent practice on the usual American roads, for they abounded
in stumps, steep slopes, and many running streams, but to learn
how to manage with sloughs, ditches, narrow passes, curves, and
the turning of corners I chose the forest road to Nodaway Island,
to the Hundred-and-Two, and along the Little Platte River, all the
way out to the parade ground. The horses pulled so well together,
traveled with such uniform gait, were so instantly responsive to
the rein, always stood so quietly when halted, backed without plung-
ing, trotted so well without need of the whip, and the roan mare
proved such an excellent lead horse, I was planning with much
pleasure to take a journey with them to Deseret.

In April I drove alone to St. Joseph to talk over plans for the
journey with my future traveling companion. On my return, about
3 miles from Savannah, the offside horse cast a shoe on her left rear
foot. I stopped immediately, for she seemed to be limping. Since
no one was there to take the reins, I threw them lightly on the seat
cushion and went to examine the hoof. In spite of the care I took,
stroking her soothingly and speaking gently, the instant I attempted
to raise her foot she gave a leap and off and away all of them went
over stock and stone, up hill and down dale, as if in a mad pursuit.
I tried at once to seize the bridle rein of the lead horse but, in run-
ning, I stumbled over a stump and fell. When I got up I saw the
vehicle plunging on—here a cushion hurled away, there my cloak.
“Adieu, je t’ai vu!” I thought. “Confound it all!”

IT ran after them, of course, as fast as I could. I had an idea
that they were stuck fast in the forest. Sure enough, below the
first hill, I found Bet wallowing in the dust, trying to get free
from the harness and the long lines that were wound about her.
Having set her free, I ordered her to get up. She could hardly
stand! She was trembling in every limb and spread her feet wide
apart for fear of falling. She had lost her head entirely. I led
her away from the road and tied her tight and fast at a spot where
there was grass; then I went in search of the others. About a
hundred feet farther on I found Lily, Bet’s companion, standing,
bewildered, in the road.

Aside from a wound in her left rear shank, inflicted, most likely,
by the pole, she had suffered no injury. I swung myself lightly
upon her back and went on after the two shaft horses and the hack.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 59

I found them at the top of the last steep hill as one approaches
Savannah. Fortunately they could go no farther; they had hardly
come out alive from the creek below. The two horses were caught
in some bushes and the vehicle was jammed against a tree. The
horse on the right had thrown her hind leg over the pole and was
evidently forced to stop. The vehicle had most probably been car-
ried on until it was held fast by striking the tree trunk.

I disentangled the beasts from their harness to see what damage
had been done. Lily had suffered no injury—was only lamed. The
hack could stand on its wheels, to be sure, but many screws were
gone. I went back to bring Bet, the cushion, and my cloak. Then,
having harnessed Lily and the colt together, I led them slowly home.
The horses had to be cared for and doctored; the vehicle and harness
had to be mended.

Finally, at the end of April I was ready for my journey; my
wagon was provided with a canvas top and provisioned with zwie-
bach, smoked meat, butter, eggs, sugar, tea, cooking and drinking
utensils, oats and corn meal for the horses, a saddle, a double-bar-
reled shotgun, a hunting knife, and four 30-foot cords with iron pins.
The last-named were to be used for tying the horses.

My intended companion on the journey, a young American, was
to wait in St. Joseph and be ready to set out with me on the first
of May. Notwithstanding that he had detained me with his prom-
ises to go, Steiner refused, when I arrived in St. Joseph, to con-
sider taking the trip. He had not the means, he said, to provide his
own personal outfit. Now, I had asked nothing more of him than
that he bring his own provisions, and, in return for his seat in my
wagon, that he look after the vehicle on the journey, while I took
care of the horses.

A fine predicament! To travel with four horses and a wagon
alone was not to be considered, for both team and vehicle would
have to be constantly guarded. To find another trustworthy per-
son to go with me could not be done at once. Therefore, my grand
display with four-in-hand came to a sudden end. I determined
to sell both wagon and team. But now, when I wanted a purchaser,
nobody would buy. Earlier, when I did not wish to part with my
horses, I had many advantageous offers.

May 9. Lily and the colt sold in Weston. Bet placed on a farm
so that she may grow strong again. Such a fine mare one is justified
in giving the best attention; she will certainly bring $60 more. The
wagon and harness as well as the large mare, Landy, left behind
to be sold, so that on my return I shall have some funds. Trip to
Salt Lake and Fort Laramie given up; I should have found no wild
animals on the jaunt anyway.

60 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

So, I am going up the Missouri, a stream that has already been
turned to good account, but not exhaustively. But both Indians
and wild animals have been treated rather more from the viewpoint
of natural history than from that of their picturesque life; my chief
purpose, after all, is the study of primitive conditions. Art galleries
and paintings are for me secondary considerations: they will interest
me only when my preparatory work shall have been thoroughly
accomplished and are to be the means, when I bring out my master
works, whereby I prove myself a great artist.

May 11. Left St. Joseph on board the Sacramento for Council
Bluffs, where I shall wait for one of the two boats that make
annual trips to the Yellowstone in the interest of the two fur
companies and bring back the commodities that supply their traffic.

May 12. This afternoon we passed a community of Oto and various
settlements of half-breeds. One of our deck hands, spying some
Indian women in bathing, amused himself by throwing out to them
a bottle of whisky with the hope of enticing them out of hiding.
His ruse succeeded; they were not willing to let the valuable gift
sink to the bottom.

May 18. Arrived this evening about 6 o’clock at Lowa Point near
the Bluffs. A forlorn place. None of the houses are built near
the river, because the inhabitants so much dread losing their lives
by the constant floods.

As a result the town is already a mile from its original site; on
the opposite side much of the land is under water. My bed is made
on a trestle over which a buffalo robe is stretched. Another buffalo
robe serves for coverlet. Hardly a dozen houses are inhabited
here; the people are, for the most part, Mormons.

May 14. Crossed over to Belle Vue, Mr. Peter A. Sarpy’s trading
house for the Omaha. There are still many emigrants in this part
of the country. The cattle are driven across the river at this point,
an undertaking that gives rise to much drollery. Many of the cows
swim back again to find their calves that were thought too young
for the journey and had to be sold. The teams are taken across
in flatboats with the wagons.

In Belle Vue besides Sarpy’s house there was the place where
the United States land agent lived (Barrow by name. On account
of unauthorized transactions with the Indians, he was removed at
that time), the school for Pawnee children (Ellet was the teacher’s
name), six log houses with adjoining plantations, where half-breeds
lived, and the remains (ruin it cannot be called) of Fontanelle’s
earlier trading post, a picture of which one may see in Neu Wied’s
Atlas. Farther below a Protestant mission, and beyond MacKinney,
a trading place for the Oto and Omaha, a beautiful, far-reaching
view over the estuary of the Big Platte or Nebraska.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 61

May 16. In Belle Vue I saw the first Indian huts of clay. I made
a sketch of a Pawnee girl beside one of them. Her attire was dis-
tinctive for simplicity; a shirt or chemise that came up under the
arms and was held there by two straps over the shoulders—et voi la
tout! I should have done better to stay in Belle Vue than here in
Council Bluffs, but there is no tavern over there; besides, I know no
one at all in that place.

May 17. A Mormon girl showed me a man’s coat and trousers made
of white leather and richly embroidered with silk in Indian fashion.
She thought I would allow myself to be influenced to order a similar
suit made. That one was ordered especially for a fop here, and is
said to have cost as much as $500. I have had frequent oppor-
tunities, both here and across the river, to make portraits of Omaha.
Each portrait costs me 50 cents.

May 20. Crossed again to Belle Vue for the purpose of visiting a
village of the Omaha 6 miles distant. The nearest way is a road
running sheer over the bluff by the ruins of Fontanelle. From that
height one enjoys a picturesque, far-reaching view up the river to-
ward Kanesville, where it winds through the forest below and far
on to the estuary of the Platte, then through a wooded plain toward
Papillon Brook that encircles, in part, the height on which the
Omaha village is situated. How I was to get across that muddy
stream was a puzzle. Nosign of a bridge anywhere, only a number
of fords where horses had to wade in dark, turbid water up to
their paunches, and for that matter, men and women had to cross in
the same manner.

I was on foot; furthermore, not exactly inclined to intrust myself
to that mudhole and then appear in such a soiled condition in the
village. I was going along downstream, hoping to find a fallen tree
that would serve me for footlog, when I saw on the opposite side a
mother and two boys getting ready to swim. The latter swam im-
mediately over, but the woman wrapped herself again in her blanket,
and remained on the bank. She spread on the water a skin or bag
the edges of which turned upward, giving it the appearance of a
miniature flatboat. The boys gave signs that I was to put my
sketchbook and my clothes in that novel contrivance and then swim
across. I took off my clothes, except my trousers, and let my be-
longings be towed as directed; then in I went with a splash and,
with a few strokes, was on the other side. I gave the lads a tip,
and explained that in a little while I should be there again and
might need them. But my knowledge of the Iowa dialect did not
avail me; the Omaha have a different dialect. With signs, how-
ever, I got on well.

The instant my back was turned—splash—the mother swam to the
opposite shore, but not after our manner of swimming, with both

62 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 115

hands at once, forward stroke, curving inward to the side. She
pulled a stroke with one arm at a time, alternately, in the Indian
way. Negroes swim with the same stroke.

When I had put on my clothes again I climbed the hill to
the Omaha settlement. Their dwellings consisted both of skin tents
(tipis) and clay huts, in the midst of which were scaffolds used
for the curing of meat and high enclosures in which they confined
their horses for safety. On the side from which I entered the vil-
lage there was a narrow ditch or trench, whether constructed for
defense (a shelter behind which they fired on their enemies) I do
not know. At that time it was serving as depository for their
“commodities.” They mounted the meat scaffold by means of the
simplest sort of improvised ladder, i. e., the trunk of a tree about
6 inches in diameter in which steps were cut. A young Indian
woman invited me in good English to come into her tent and dry
my trousers before the fire. Her name was Betsy. She spoke Eng-
lish quite well; also French and both the Iowa and Omaha dialects.
She was what the Americans call “a character” (one of those genial
originals).1° J had news of Witthae, who is married to an Oto
and lives in the neighborhood. I took a walk about the village.
For a long while I watched the sport of young boys as they prac-
ticed hurling the spear with great velocity through a revolving
brass ring—lordly figures, notable postures, fine expressions of ani-
mation and eagerness.

Before a clay hut sat the personages of the village as spectators
and judges, some of them distinguished for their trappings of state,
for their inherent dignity. * * * I sketched several portraits.
Betsy expressed a desire to accompany me to Belle Vue to buy some
bread. We swam together across the Papillon, after she had pushed
me into the water, because, with unpardonable curiosity, I looked
around to get a glimpse of her in her bathing suit. We then
took our way across the plain. From the top of a hill we saw, a
long way off, smoke rising from a steamboat coming up the Missouri.
I was waiting with much impatience for the boat that was to take
me back to Council Bluffs. I had fumed in vain until I was in quite
a heat, was “boiling over.” Still no emigrants were there; no ferry-
man appeared. After waiting for two hours my patience was well-
nigh exhausted: In the first place I was hungry; in the second
place I was plagued with the thought of my possible plight, if this
approaching steamer should prove to be the company’s boat that I
so restlessly awaited and could not take, because I did not have my

16 Decatur told me later about Betsy. Once when there was a famine she had, by her
own efforts alone, constructed with some pieces of timber a sort of raft on which she
crossed the river, killed a cow with her rifle, cut the animal to pieces, put the meat on her
float, and with her stolen booty steered her way back to her people.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 63

luggage with me. Would the captain allow me to go aboard here and
then, for my sake, make another stop at Council Bluffs? If I lost
this chance what was I to do? Meanwhile the steamboat drew nearer
and nearer. Both upper and lower decks were black with human
figures. Those people are engagees, I said to myself. Finally, as the
vessel came round a curve, I could read with my telescope the
name Statesman.

As far as I knew, that was not one of the St. Louis line of steam-
ers. On the hurricane deck I could see wagon bodies painted blue
and red wheels piled upon them—a sort of vehicle I had identified
with Pittsburgh. That must be an Ohio boat, I concluded, bringing
emigrants from the East.

In due time it came alongside. The passengers and I peered at
each other. Are they emigrants? I asked myself. Mormons?
Exactly. Far from halting at the Bluffs, they were going on 30
miles farther up the river to Kanesville or Mormon Landing. At
last the agony of suspense was over !

May 25. Was sauntering along the sands near the ferry in the
afternoon to make studies of some trees when a flotilla of Mackinaw
boats arrived. Charles Martin was at the wheel. While they were
waiting here in hope that a steamer would relieve him from further
steering I made Martin’s acquaintance. I sketched his half-breed
sons for his wife—also, for myself. The people with him dressed
as half-breeds and wore their hair long.

May 26. Today a horse thief was arrested by the ferryman. The
latter had just ferried the man and his stolen horse across, when
several emigrants, covered with mud and oozing perspiration, came
galloping up to catch the rogue. The ferryman at once mounted a
fresh horse and followed the trace of the fugitive, whose horse was
already tired out.

To allay suspicion he rode quietly beside the man, took hold of the
stolen horse’s bridle, and ordered that the animal be given up. The
thief grabbed for his pistol but our man discharged his own weapon
through the former’s coat pocket and wounded him in the hip;
whereupon he was obliged to surrender the horse.

June 1. A very ordinary crowd here. President Monroe’s verdict
only too well confirmed :

“The worst Indians I have seen in my travels are the white people
that live on the borders.”

*k * * * * * *

We had an example, a short time ago, of the manner in which
Judge Lynch administers justice. A number of counterfeiters and
gamblers (professional card players, oftentimes tricksters and mur-
derers) fled from the States to this place and thought they could here

64 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

carry on their questionable practices in perfect safety. The farmers
in this vicinity were of one mind with regard to them: after having
destroyed their molds and their presses they whipped the evildoers in
a frightful manner.

Peter A. Sarpy has been here. He proposed that I wait as his
guest in Belle Vue until the great company’s boat arrives. His
brother is a member of the company. He promised to give me in-
troductions. I accepted with gratitude.

June 3. The entire plain is flooded from continual rain. Not an
inch of dry ground; therefore this lair also is under water. For three
weeks I have waited here. This evening I shall go to Belle Vue.

June 4. Belle Vue. The ends I have in view come nearer their
fulfillment. I am living at present in a trading house; I sleep on a
buffalo robe; I am again in the midst of Indians who are continually
trading with Mr. Sarpy. He lets them have gunpowder, lead, and
tobacco on credit that they may be prepared for hunting during the
summer. Buffaloes range about 80 miles from this village. In this
vicinity the Virginia (white-tailed) deer is still frequently found.
Stephen Decatur, a nephew of the celebrated commodore, is employed
here now as clerk. He is most courteous and obliging. ‘Two months
ago he served as sailor on a ship because, owing to the illness of his
comrades on their way to California, he got stuck fast in this region,
He was earlier a teacher in the East. There are three other em-
ployees: Joseph La Fleche, Sagan Fontanelle, and Peter, an inter-
preter for the Omaha and Oto. All three are half-breeds.

The Omaha wear moccasins made of elk skin blackened with
smoke and usually with an ornamental seam across the back of the
foot. The flaps turn outward. Shoes that the Pima wear are some-
what different from these of the Iowa; for instance, they have no
flaps around the ankles. The decoration also is of another sort but
difficult to describe.

June 8. Six braves from the Omaha tribe came today to let me
sketch their portraits in return for a gift. After I had made draw-
ings of Tehnegech and Techidingue in the position they themselves
preferred, 1. e., sitting on their heels with their faces full front, I told
Wikusche, a very handsome old man of noble bearing, to sit in my
armchair, showing him that I wished his head turned somewhat
to the side, because in that way his features would be seen to better
advantage. He wished, however, to be represented just as others,
fullface. Nevertheless I would not consent to that. Whereupon he
went outside to take counsel with his comrades as to whether he might
allow his portrait made with profile view without prejudice to his
honor. Whether the much desired playing cards or his friends’ argu-
ments had most weight in overruling his scruples, I do not know.
Enough! THe came back and sat as I desired.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 65

June 9. Tecumseh Fontanelle was careless with his gun and shot
his left arm to pieces. This misfortune caused great wailing among
his female relations. He was carried to his mother in the village,
so that his friends might suck impure blood from the wound. Mr.
Sarpy owns a splendid stallion, white with reddish brown spots. I
made a portrait sketch of Waaschamani, a very old former chief of
the Omaha. He showed me several testimonials from United States
agents, in order that I might know he was a good friend to the white
man. I sketched also Aschiwagi (Spotted Horse), a Pawnee chief
who is on a visit here for the purpose of exchange and barter.
Whenever he brings his wares he puts them in Mr. Sarpy’s store-
house and stays with him until his business transactions are accom-
plished.

June 10. This morning, just as I was beginning a portrait of an
Omaha youth, three gentlemen came in, two of whom, W. Picotte
and A. Culbertson, I knew already. They are agents in the upper
Missouri region for the great fur-trading company. The third gen-
tleman was chief pilot of the Mackinaw boats and also a trader.
TI talked with Mr. Picotte about my plan to take advantage of their
steamboat, if possible, to study Indians and wild animals in the
regions of the upper Missouri. He said I should be able to see
little or nothing from the boat, for the reason that, owing to the
noise a steamer makes, animals were very shy about coming near the
shore.

I should see little more than a few gaping Indians; nothing of
their woodland exploits, their dancing, or anything of their sports.
To see what was really of interest concerning the Indians, he said,
T should have to spend two or three years at a fort. That I knew
beforehand ; however, I had not the means to take up quarters in a
fort at my own expense as did Comte d’Otrente, the Irish Palesieux,
Prince von Neu Wied, Baron von Barneburg, Audubon, and others.
I asked him whether it were possible to get a position as clerk.

“T will see,” he said. “In any case, come on board. If you find
that you can see as much as you desire, voyaging up the river, then
you can return on the boat.”

Mr. Culbertson will take me as far at least as Fort Benton, where
the Blackfeet live.

June 11. The two agents went downstream in their boats, met the
company’s steamer and accompanied it up the river. Heretofore the
firm (Chouteau, Jr., & Co.) operated their own boat, the Assinzboin,
and, after that was destroyed by fire, the Yellowstone. Since the
latter was wrecked, however, they have their goods transported on
boats owned by other people. So far all has gone well! I made a
portrait of Tamegache, son of the well-known Waschinga. He be-
came lame and surrendered his claims as chief in favor of the young

66 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

“Blk.” I made a sketch, also, of Tanini, a most beautiful 14-year-old
girl. She began to cry from fear (of some charm of witchcraft’).
Only the promise of a calico dress could induce her to dry her
tears.

June 12. I rode with Joseph La Fleche to the Omaha village and
witnessed a buffalo dance ’ around the wounded Tecumseh Fontanelle.
We had a hazardous journey, fording the Papillon and clambering
up precipitous slopes. The dance of the buffalo troop was held in
a large, roomy clay hut. Ten dancers arranged in pairs imitated, in
the most natural manner, the way that buffaloes drink, the way
they wallow, how they jostle and horn one another, hew they bellow—
und all the while the performers sprinkle the wounded man with
water. All the dancers wore decorated buffalo masks and buffalo
tails fastened to their belts in the back. With the exception of the
never-failing breechcloth they were nude. A throng of people looked
on. Only the “jongleur” or Indian doctor danced alone, and without
mask and tail. We went home over the prairie at a gallop. A sharp
wind drove the raindrops against our faces and presently a terrible
storm broke with crashes of thunder—neither so loud nor so con-
tinuous, however, as we are accustomed to hear in our Swiss moun-
tains. The Omaha have suffered so dreadfully from attacks of ill-
ness, and from the Sioux, that they could enlist hardly 80 warriors.
At present they are exiles from their own territory and live on land
belonging to the Oto.

To provide me with a position as clerk, in the event that the cap-
tain on the company’s boat that we are expecting cannot take me with
him, Decatur made me an offer at their trading post, with the Pima,
on the Fauquicourt. Sarpy’s trader, Descoteaux, is there. The fact
that he isa man of bad reputation makes the offer unattractive to me.

June 13. Bought al! sorts of materials that I can barter on the boat
for Indian relics and add to my collection. Money would be of little
use in such trading, because the Indians themselves have no idea of
values and all commodities at the forts farther on are very much
more expensive.

June 14. Decatur told me a good joke that old Robidoux played,
many years ago, on a competitor of his in these parts named Manuel
Lisa. Both were traders with the Pawnee. Each of them tried to
acquire by trade as many pelts as possible for himself without being
at all squeamish as to the means he employed, and, for that reason,
they often quarreled. In order to prevent such wrangles and under
the conviction that neither had the power to ruin the other, they
pledged reciprocally to be “loyal”, i. e., if a band of Indians arrived
at their trading posts for the purpose of exchange and barter, neither

17 A “medicine” dance to cure him. ‘The buffalo is imitated.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 67

would attempt to take advantage of the other. Manuel Lisa, how-
ever, had no intention of trading on honorable terms for any length
of time; accordingly, upon an occasion when both of them expected a
band of Pawnee he tried to circumvent Robidoux. While he ordered
his post supplied in secret with commodities to barter to the Pawnee,
he went over to see Robidoux by way of putting him off his guard,
by his own presence there to hinder preparations, and to see what
was really going on in the other storehouse, Robidoux played the
part of unsuspecting host just as well as his opponent played his
role; acted just as though he had allowed himself to be really duped.
He invited Lisa to drink a glass of champagne to the success of
prospective trade; but regretted that on account of his gout he was
not able to stoop down, and therefore would have to ask Lisa to
fetch the flask from the celiar himself. The latter obligingly raised
the trapdoor in the room and went down the steps. Joe let fall the
door, rolled a cask upon it, and with mocking words left his oppo-
nent imprisoned, in order that he might trade alone with the Pawnee.

On this same occasion I related to Decatur another story I had
often heard in St. Joseph about old Robidoux. By his first mar-
riage he had a son, Joe, who inherited from his deceased mother
so many building lots in St. Louis that, according to current prices
of city property, he was worth about $90,000. Now, Joe, Jr., was
a confirmed drunkard and, on account of his bibulous habits, gave
his father a great deal of trouble. Some years ago he went into
the Catholic church dressed like an Indian, 1. e., practically naked,
to the amazement of the assembled worshippers. The old man,
being in rather poor circumstances financially on account of his
great number of children and his unfortunate addiction to cards,
took advantage of this opportunity to confine his drunken son, as a
punishment, for several weeks in his cellar and refused to release
him until Joe, Jr., put in a favorable mood by receiving a glass of
whisky after a long fast, signed a deed, already prepared, transfer-
ring the property to his father.

Another trick played by old Robidoux. As I have said already,
he had a passion for card playing. As he went every spring to St.
Louis, and, indeed to New York, for the purpose of selling furs
and also of bringing back a new stock of Indian goods he had, on
the steamers, plenty of opportunities for gambling. ‘The game
usually played is one in which that player wins who risks the high-
est stake; whether he actually holds the highest cards in his hand
is immaterial. The game is called poker. On one of the old man’s
trips up the Missouri he met with an experienced partner; they
were strangers to each other. Robidoux, rather poorly dressed as
was his habit, did not impress his opponent in the game as one to be

68 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

feared, so, after they had been playing for quite a while, the lat-
ter, with the intention of springing a surprise, put up a consider-
able sum. Old Robidoux, however, instead of showing concern,
called to the waiter: “Bring that old trunk of mine here! Here are
one thousand dollars in cash; I bet ’em all!”

The stranger could not increase the amount; consequently, not-
withstanding the fact that he held the better cards, he lost the game
and was obliged to give up his high stake of 700 or 800 dollars.

In the summer of 1848 the youngest son of old Robidoux met his
death in a tragic manner. When he had finished his cougse at a
college in St. Louis he came direct to St. Joseph. As too frequently
happens, his entrance into the world of affairs was a protracted
“spree.” In his father’s town he thought he might give himself up
to the convivial life without restraint. Now it happened that just
at this time the citizens of St. Joseph were in a state of great excite-
ment over hooded bands of thieves that took away their horses and
cattle. A number were caught and, to avoid legal procedure, the
inhabitants let them be lynched. In consequence of these occurrences,
any one who gave rise to the slightest suspicion after dark had to
be prepared for any fate. One night young Robidoux, in exuberant
spirits, heightened still more by many a “pop”, was leaving the
grocery in the dark, at midnight, to go home, when he conceived the
desire to play a poor joke on a counting-house clerk, left in charge
of the store, by frightening him up with noise. MacD., having no
idea who was beating on the storehouse door so late, and having
only thieves in mind, opened the window and called, again and
again, “Who’s there?” Young Robidoux, instead of answering him,
pressed close against the lintel to avoid being seen, for neither was
MacD. his friend nor Mac’s employer one of his father’s; both of
them were competitors of old Robidoux in trade with the Indians.
Recognizing neither the young gentleman nor his companion, in the
darkness, but regarding their movements as questionable, he shot
young Robidoux from above, directly in the head, and killed him as
dead as a rat. Then Robidoux’s comrade cried out who they were,
but it was too late. I remember perfectly well the scene that fol-
lowed. Notwithstanding the late hour, everybody on Main Street
was waked up; a crowd gathered about the dead body. Old Robi-
doux was furious. He declared the murder of his son to be the base
act of his competitor in trade and wished to lynch MacD.—in fact
he himself brought a rope for the purpose. With much difficulty he
and his adherents were restrained from committing that deed of
violence. MacD., protected by his own friends, gave himself up to
the constable. The fellow who was with the unfortunate young
Robidoux at the time of his death was required to tell the facts and
his statement prevented further bloodshed. MacD.’s employer stood

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 69

bail for him, so that during the legal proceedings he need not re-
main in St. Joseph. As was just, he was later acquitted, and then
he returned to the town.

New Year’s Day, 1851, I spent among friends in St. Joseph.
When, on the following day, I went to the house I had occupied dur-
ing my former residence there (a small log house consisting of one
room with a fireplace) I found that my supply of wood was almost
entirely consumed. On New Year’s eve in the preceding year I
gave permission to some negroes, after they had got the consent of
local magistrates, to dance in my room. I did this because nobody
else would allow them to use premises for that purpose. My per-
mission was limited to that one evening only, and did not include
the use of my firewood. My house was not locked, however, and
those colored people made merry there on New Year’s Day and
burned nearly all of it. On my bed I found a small chest, on which,
after they had covered it with sand, a pair of negroes had indulged
in a very lively dance. As they did not reimburse me for my wood,
I took the chest in payment but was obliged to hide it in the fire-
place. The master of the negro who owned the chest wrote me a
letter in which he threatened to report me for carrying on illegal
transactions with negroes. That caused me no anxiety, however.
Soon after I had another unpleasant experience with a crowd of
boys who, at their mothers’ bidding, when some Iowa Indians visited
me, threw stones both into my stable and my room. I paid them
back with several lashings with my whip.

June 16. Monday. Early this morning Decatur waked La Boue and
me with the shout, “The company’s boat!” From the steps of the
“pickets” I read with my telescope the name St. Ange. Notwith-
standing, there were our two gentlemen, P. and C.18 The vessel came
to land. A young steer was slaughtered at once to provide meat for
the boat’s crew; the doves and cats that were to be taken to the
ports were caught and put in their cages; some freight was unloaded ;
and I was granted my request to take advantage of the boat trip up
the Missouri. The steamer is really a hospital for victims of
cholera—the sick and the dying! My cabin is filled with the effects
of people who have died. My box now serves a sick person for
pillow. Shall I take this risk? But the boat is already under way,
in midstream. “Good-bye, Decatur!” Two engagees took advan-
tage of the boat’s stop at Council Bluffs to abscond, after they had
already drawn their wages in advance.

June 17. No doctor on board; two more deaths since yesterday!
Evans, a professor in geology, prepared the remedy (meal mixed
with whisky) that I administer. Father Van Hocken bestows

18 Picotte and Culbertson.

70 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

spiritual consolation. Father De Smet is also not well, but he is
not suffering from cholera. The engagees drink too much whisky.
The deck hands or sailors remain sober; therefore they are in good
health.

June 19. In the evening we were forced by a violent tempest to
lay to near Black Bird’s grave. Such raging wind! Such a flood
of rain! Such vivid lightning! The cages containing the doves
and the cats were blown into the river.

June 20. Anchored the entire day on the right-hand shore, in
order to renovate the boat, to air clothes in the sunshine, to take
better care of the sick, and to bury the dead.

June 21. Father Van Hocken dead. He died as a Christian.
Had been sick only two hours. It was about 4 o’clock in the morn-
ing when I was awakened by his calling me. I found hin, half-
dressed, on his bed in violent convulsions. I called Father De Smet.
We anchored in the evening and buried him by torchlight. Father
Van Hocken was to have gone as missionary to the Nez Percés.
And I had not sketched his portrait for Father De Smet.

June 22. Stopped a moment at Sergeant’s Bluff (Floyd’s grave)
to greet “La Charité” and “La Verité.” This is Iowa territory.
They say a city is to be founded here later on.

June 23. Passed Bruyére. We travel slowly; there is no need of
haste. As Louis has died, I am now installed as Mr. Picotte’s clerk.
I am obliged, therefore, to be up early in the morning and wake the
engagees, see to the wood cutting, weigh out rations to the cooks—
coffee, sugar, crackers, bacon, etc., for each day’s “mess”: that is
my prospects for a good position. At least I get my traveling
expenses free of charge.

June 25. Fort Vermilion is abandoned. Schlegel, the bourgeois,
came with bag and baggage on board our steamer, to proceed 60
miles farther up the river and establish a new post. His company
is forbidden to sell whisky and could not, therefore, compete with
trade in the nearby Iowa territory, where whisky can be had. An
instance of the effect of civilization upon the fur trade. Civiliza-
tion under the advance of the whisky flask !

June 26. The Prussian Schlegel drank all my French brandy
on the sly, as preventive for cholera. He became intoxicated; as
a consequence, Mr. Picotte called me to account. Schlegel and his
native mistress were put ashore with all their goods and chattels
at the Isle de Bonhomme, where he intends to establish a new
trading post in the land of the Sioux. Toward sunset we passed
the estuary of the Riviére 4 Basil; strikingly picturesque scenes.

There are a great many fallen trunks from which firewood can be
cut. That night we stopped not far from L’Eau qui Court to have

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ ra

wood cut and also to put off an engagee with Mr. Sarpy’s cargo.
We had an unexpected visit: a troop of Ponca warriors who, in the
deep shadows of the primeval woods, gave us a most welcome con-
cert of their war songs. Then they came on board and, after an
exchange of harangues, coffee was served.

July 4. While we were at an extra lunch in honor of the Fourth
we came in sight of Fort Pierre. Finally, after our midday meal
was over, we reached the fort, W. Picotte’s chief trading post for the
Teton Sioux. A dozen braves, painted and decorated, guarded the
wares that were unloaded from the ship. Most Sioux women still
wear their traditional waistcloth. I sketched the fort and the settle-
ment from the deck of the St. Ange. Many people and a large part
of the ship’s cargo were left here. A splendid bull of Devonshire
breed is kept at this place for breeding purposes. He is said to have
overthrown buffalo bulls more than once.

July 5. At 10 o’clock we left Fort Pierre; the Teton warriors
gave us a parting salute. Winter huts in several abandoned Indian
villages demolished, for the purpose of using poles and beams for
firewood. Since we no longer meet farmers along the river, we have
to cut firewood ourselves and carry it aboard. “Au bois! Au
bois!” 48° shouts H. P.

June 27. Cedar Island.

June 28. We met a flotilla of laden Mackinaw boats belonging to
our company. We dropped anchor. Fred La Boue assumed chief
command at the wheel; he directs the course of the first boat. All
of the others must follow in his wake. I saw several Indian women
with their children near the helm. Their husbands are coming back
again in the autumn on horseback. Most of the others remain in
the States and are replaced by our engagees, on the St. Ange.

June 29. As we were nearing Fort Lookout this morning Campbell
(together with Schlegel, who had come aboard) wished to take the
shortest route thither on his favorite horse; for he is a trader there.
Owing to the elasticity of the long planks, however, the beautiful
bay, in attempting to go ashore, fell into the water. Instead of
swimming toward the land, he turned his course midstream in an
effort to cross to a pasture he knew. They had to go out in a row-
boat to catch him and keep fast hold until we could take him aboard
the steamboat, which, on that account, we were forced to land on the
other side of the river.

July 2. While we were voyaging along the right bank this after-
noon I noticed on shore the walls of a fortification. I thought at
once I had found some remains of ancient Indian origin and hastened
to Mr. Picotte to question him concerning this remarkable discovery.

18a “To the forest, to the forest.”
81634—37 6

a2 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

The earthwork dates back to earlier traders from whom the big
company purchased it.

When wood was to be cut those places in the forest were chosen
principally where leafless cottonwood trees were found in great
numbers. At that time I took for granted that those bare tree
trunks were denuded of bark and foliage through decay due to age.
Audubon and Bachmann, on the other hand, attributed that condi-
tion to another cause: one of Audubon’s companions discovered
that the porcupine is the evildoer. Such a condition had never
been observed before, even by such an experienced traveler as
Audubon.

July 7. Today for the first time I saw buffaloes. One hundred
and eighty years ago they were still to be found in the State of Ohio!
Good-by buffaloes, Indians, and fur companies. We came upon
several buffalo bulls standing on a sand bank. Owing to the direc-
tion of the wind, they did not get our scent; so we approached them
so close that we were actually startled and gazed with eyes and
mouth agape. One was killed; he ran quite a distance, however,
before he fell dead. By means of a long rope he was pulled on
to the deck by the engagees with loud hurrah and immediately
quartered. Then I had my first buffalo steak.

July 8. Reached Fort Clarke, the Arikara (Riks) village. As Mr.
Picotte expected the grandees of this settlement and wished to serve
them sweetened coffee and crackers when he presented gifts, I had
to remain on board to issue orders, etc. In the village Mr. P.
and company were invited to partake of roasted dog as a choice
dish. (I should not have exchanged courtesies.) From my station
behind Pére de Smet’s wagon I watched what was going on there
as well as at the fort and observed the people with the aid of my
telescope. Had an interesting view of about 50 girls and women
bathing. As they thought themselves well concealed they were
sportive and animated in a natural way. There were several dainty
figures among them—so slender yet round, so supple yet firm. How
they splashed and romped behind the partly submerged tree that
they thought screened them from observation.

Others dreamily dried themselves in the sun in postures and
movements so natural and unrestrained, and yet such grace! If
only that dog feast had continued until night I should not have
been sorry. Mr. P. was escorted back on a pony that had been
presented to him. I was obliged to go down to the office and see
that the Indians were properly cared for in the main cabin.

Several Mandan accompanied us to their nearby settlement.
Fourteen huts, most of them empty; poor remnant of a tribe. A
windstorm drove us so violently shoreward that we were com-
pelled to halt near those huts. The boat was actually driven to

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ is

the river bank. Several Mandan and Minnetaree (Hidatsa) re-
mained on board and journeyed with us to Fort Berthold, which
they regarded as a great favor. The village now inhabited by the
Arikara belonged formerly to the Mandan. Prince Neu Wied
spent a winter there and Bodmer has a good drawing of it.

July 9. Early this morning Mr. P. told me I was to be prepared
to remain at Fort Berthold. He had just heard that Mr. Kipp, the
bourgeois there, wished to spend the autumn in Canada, and there-
fore a clerk must be left in charge. However, if Pierre Gareau,
the half-breed interpreter, should care to take charge of the fort
himself I might go on to Fort Union. At midday we saw from
afar the white palisades of an Indian village gleaming in the sun-
shine. We enjoyed a joke with our redskins on board.

From the deck they could discern in the distance several members
of their race whom they declared at once belonged to a hostile tribe;
they began their war songs, loaded their muskets, and fired at the
foe. We were rounding a neck of land or “bend”, as “the lurking
enemy” came bounding into view. We found them to be friends.

Commodities consigned to this post were already disembarked
when I received the message to take my luggage and go ashore.
The steamer departed. I remained on guard near the wares until
they were taken in a two-wheeled cart to the fort. At a little dis-
tance off, shy children peered curiously from behind piles of mer-
chandise and made comments on the strangers. In the course of
time I went myself to the fort and met my new bourgeois or chief.
I had seen Mr. Kipp before, in St. Joseph, where he was trading
horses. I observed him, especially, as he was leaving there for
Savannah in a two-wheeled vehicle drawn by two beautiful animals.
After supper with Alexis I took possession of my new quarters. A
dark room, lighted only by a tiny window, the panes of which seem
never to have been washed. A large fireplace and two wooden bed-
steads, which I found upon closer inspection to be inhabited by bed-
bugs. I was induced immediately, therefore, to spread my buffalo
robe on the floor and sleep there.

July 10. What I saw and heard today offers me a rich harvest of
sketches. In the neighborhood in which I now spend my days is an
Indian village of 80 clay huts surrounded by palisades and fre-
quented by billiard players, idle lookers-on, horse traders, and Indian
women engaged in daily tasks.

There are also throngs of troublesome mosquitoes; only by smoking
them with “sweet sage” (Artemisia) can one think of getting any
sleep in the house. This fort, they say, is always alive with Indians,
except in winter, when they hunt the buffalo in surrounding regions.
That is another sight that I shall enjoy.

74 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

There is little trcveling to and from this post. The Minnetaree
or Gros Ventres, as they are called, never go far from their stockades
for fear of the Sioux. They are too few to have the protection of
different bands of their own tribe. The Indian women here plant
fields of Indian corn (maize) and after the harvest, Crow Indians,
a related tribe, come to the village. Now that a treaty of peace is
concluded, Assiniboin come also to barter for corn—or rather, to beg.
The Minnetaree are so reduced by wars and pestilence that Mr. Kipp,
in return for 100 buffalo hides, enclosed their habitations with pali
sades, so that they might be secure at least against surprise attacks
and consequent extermination. Now no huts are visible until one
has passed through the entrance to their barricade. Bellangé holds
out to me the prospect of witnessing a combat, notwithstanding. For
the Sioux, he says, renew their attacks every year.

July 11. I made a trade with Bellangé for two Indian pipe bowls,
seven pairs of moccasins, and other things.

July 12. After breakfast the river shore was all astir. Hunters and
horses were ferried across by Indian women in flatboats made of raw
buffalo hides.

One could see in the distance a shifting dark spot on the plain—it
was buffaloes. The assembled hunters had to surround them on
horseback and procure fresh meat enough to last for a time. While a
few of the animals might escape this danger, they would fall into the
hands of the lurking Sioux. Mr. Kipp had provided his runners with
excellent marksmen, who undertook the hunt for him in return for a
share of the game. They came back soon, their horses laden with
fresh meat. They had come upon five buffaloes apart from the herd
that the huntsmen intended to surround and they selected the
youngest and fattest, overcame him at once, and brought back the
meat that we were so much in need of. For 2 days we had had none
at all; furthermore, only two meals a day—at 6 o’clock in the morning
and 4 in the afternoon. An order of things that brings on the dis-
comfort of an empty stomach. In exchange for a blue blanket and
a knife I got from a Mandan a buffalo robe elaborately trimmed
with vertical stripes of porcupine quills.

July 18. Sunday. In the afternoon, while I was industriously
sketching, a Mandan came hurriedly into my room and begged for
iy double-barreled shotgun, because one of his comrades had been
shot by anenemy. As, in event of an attack, I might need the weapon
myself, I refused to let him have it.

I went out immediately to the village to find out what was going on
and found the place like a swarming beehive. Warriors and young
men in arms were hurrying across the plain, others were mounting
their horses, a crowd of women were returning in haste from the
fields where they had been grubbing turnips, other women were going

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 15

out, curious onlookers were standing in groups, eagerly gesticulating,
anxiously chattering. An Indian, called Le Boeuf Court Queue,
had been shot, they said, by one of the Sioux. He had been at the
fort about breakfast time. I wished to trade with him for an old-
style tomahawk (an elliptic stone attached to a very tough dried tail
of the buffalo bull). I sat on the roof of our house and scanned the
village and plain with my telescope. Though it was a gable roof, it
was covered with earth instead of shingles; so I could easily walk
around up there. The scene before me was most interesting: an
increasing number of women and children were returning across the
plain; some on horseback, others on foot; some with their sumpter-
beasts." others driving loaded “travois” drawn by dogs. Finally,
toward sunset, I saw approaching the escort with the dead. Nearer
and nearer they came across the plain in the golden shimmering light
that soon deepened to violet, then to gray, throwing the dark forms
into relief; the nearer they came, the more dull and dead appeared
the heavens, until, in the dusk of the twilight, they arrived at the
village.

First came the mourning widow, leading the horse across whose
back lay her dead husband wrapped in his blanket. Mourning rela-
tives followed, encircled by restive braves whose blood was hot.
Now we got some information concerning the “coup.” +" Le Boeuf
Court Queue had gone with his family out on the prairie 3 miles
north of the village and had lain down on the ground beside his
grazing horse, while his wife and child were grubbing turnips.
Suddenly the wife was aware of something moving in the tall grass
in front of her and, knowing that they were on the extreme boundary
of their fields, where danger might be lurking, she called her hus-
band’s attention to it. The Mandan swung himself at once upon
his horse, bow and arrow in hand, to investigate the suspicious move-
ment of some low bushes, but hardly was he in range of the enemy’s
arrow when he dropped dead from his steed. The woman screamed
for help. The enemy fled without the scalp—in fact, without having
touched the Mandan. The deed, therefore, is not counted a “coup.”
To shoot a person from a distance and kill him is not regarded
among Indians as an heroic act. One must scalp the person attacked.
One of the five men who admit having witnessed the deed reports
that the enemy took away the Mandan’s swift-footed horse.

Having arrived at the burial ground, the dead warrior was taken
from his horse and laid on his blanket, his head and chest raised.
Relatives sat around him wailing and howling, jerking out their hair,
pounding their heads with their fists, tearing their flesh with knife
and arrow points until their blood flowed as sacrifice.

19T. e., burden-bearing beasts. 19a See below.

76 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Friends brought blankets, garments, bright colors as funeral ©
offerings. Meanwhile a scaffold was constructed of four stakes held |
together with crossbeams. Upon this structure the fallen Mandan, |
attired after the manner of Indian warriors and wrapped in his |
robe, was laid beneath the covering of a new red blanket. His medi- |

cine pouch was fastened to one of the posts. The crowd dispersed—
only his widow and his mother remained to wail.

Indians on the prairie do not put their dead under ground; in |

the first place they have no implements suitable for digging graves
and, second, the bodies would have to be buried very deep to be secure

from wolves. The sight of those scaffolds erected for the dead is
often horrible, even loathsome, when after a time, the wind having |
loosened the wrappings, crows and ravens continually ravage the
body. Bits of putrefied flesh fall below. In the end the posts them-
selves give way and the remains of the dead, once so respected,
so much beloved, so deplored, lie scattered on the ground, the prey

of magpies and mice.

July 15. Whenever I might be sketching in my room the Mandan
are always in the way; they are never weary of smoking with their
friend, Alexis. The latter is here for the purpose of demanding back
his horses that the Minnetaree stole, because they thought them prop-
erty of the Sioux. The fact is, Alexis lives in the domain of the
Sioux (Yankton) at Fort Medicine.

On that account and for the further reason that he is, through
his marriage with a woman of that tribe, allied with those enemies
of the Minnetaree, he will find it a difficult matter, though he has
identified his stolen horses, to get them back.

Now that I see so much that is picturesque, so many striking
groups that follow one another in quick succession and that I wish
to record in sketches while the impression is fresh in my mind, I
can not endure being so much disturbed and inconvenienced. To
make matters worse, the Mandan and Minnetaree as well are ex-
tremely superstitious and they look with dread upon an artist as
the forerunner of pestilence and death. They regard drawing and
painting as “bad medicine.” This is not to be wondered at when
one considers the singular coincidences that have confirmed them in
that belief. For instance, it was the misfortune of these tribes to
suffer their first epidemic of smallpox 20 years ago, when Catlin
made his journey to this region; they suffered an affliction equally
disastrous from cholera immediately after Bodmer’s visit here with
the Prince Von Neu Wied; again, fifteen people were carried off
by cholera on our boat this year and, though in recent years no dev-
astating pestilence prevailed, coincident with my arrival that dread-
ful disease made its appearance among the Indians in the regions

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ hi.

south of us. I was warned by Mr. P. even while in Belle Vue and
forbidden to paint any portraits in their territory, for the reason
that I should be held to account, he said, for the least misfortune.

It might be that I should have to atone for any untoward occur-
rence with my life and might bring upon the company, as my pro-
tectors, complications equally disagreeable.

Accordingly, I had been on my guard. I had not asked any
Indian to sit for his portrait but had studied them covertly and
made only sketches. Notwithstanding their mistrust, however, they
were so impelled by curiosity that they would stand in wonder be-
fore the drawings and took great pleasure in looking at them and
in recognizing Pére De Smet, Picotte, and Captain Laberge from
some rough sketches I had made of those gentlemen without sittings.

Mr. Kipp installed me today as clerk. I was charged with the
task of compiling, according to his pronunciation, a dictionary of
the Mandan dialect for Colonel Mitchell. I kept the rough draft
for myself and gave him a copy.

After supper—I cannot say just what time it was—I was in my
room waiting, when I heard shots and outcries in the village. A
woman, who peered through the small window and saw me there,
made the sign for throat cutting, across the river. The enemy upon
us again already, I thought. A moment later I was on my way
to the steep river bank. A crowd was assembled on the landing
below to see two skinboats come to land. Two young braves were
returning with their first scalps! What exultation among the
spectators! Every one was eager to extend the first welcome. The
warriors came ashore. Their faces were painted black with the
exception of the tips of their noses (sign of their having performed
a “coup”).

They presented their weapons, immediately upon landing, to those
standing nearest them on shore (in token of the first congratula-
tions). One of the bystanders so honored fastened the two scalps
(there was no skin attached) to a long pole and strode into line
just behind the victorious braves, singing their song of triumph.
Proudly they moved forward, betraying no sign of emotion, totally
unresponsive to the embraces of their people.

Before I slept I found out all particulars about that heroic
exploit. The two young Indians were 19 days on the warpath. They
went as far as Fort Lookout, ostensibly on an expedition for scalps,
in reality to steal horses. They had already seized four horses when
they saw two well-clothed Indian women bending over their work
in a cornfield. They rode swiftly by, flying an arrow at the women,
and in an instant the deed was done. The older woman attempted
to draw a pistol from her belt but did not succeed, because her

78 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

blanket came in the way and in her too great haste she could not
extricate the weapon (rash resort to a pistol has long been a matter
of scorn among our Indians). As the attack was made in sight of
the wigwams the two heroes satisfied their greed for glory by scalp-
ing the unfortunate, shrieking women, and fled to their horses.
They were hotly pursued and finally were obliged to abandon their
stolen booty, because the horses were too much exhausted to swim
across the river. The two scalps were placed beside the dead Le
Boeuf Court Queue as an expiatory offering.

As a goodly number of half-breeds live in the vicinity of Fort
Lookout it is possible that the two luckless women were of that
caste. Judging by the good clothes and the fact that Zephir’s wife
is the only woman having a pistol in her possession, one may very
well suppose, as Alexis himseif said, that the women must have
been Zephir’s wife and daughter. Zephir is now enjoying a pleasure
trip on the St. Ange in recognition of his long service as interpreter
for the company. I am well acquainted with both mother and
daughter. In my position here as clerk I have had to measure out
to them a great deal of coffee, sugar, etc. Quite recently the daughter
bartered her white shawl for 20 pounds of New Orleans sugar. How
delighted she seemed that day when she caught sight of the high-
priced luxury!

July 16. The Mandan dictionary is finished—600 words. I bought
from Mr. Kipp some rare antiquities: A bear’s claw, a chaplet, and
a crossbow made of elk horn. I paid $5 each. Mr. Kipp is getting
ready for a journey to Liberty on a visit to his white wife and
children, a trip about which he has for quite a while been undecided.
In the meantime his Mandan wife and papooses will stay with her
parents in the Mandan village. He did not like my bringing a large
trunk filled with wares for the barter trade, because he prefers to
have the advantage of all profits made in that way; but when he
saw that I had only ornaments, weapons, and clothing, the sort of
articles his company does not carry, he said no more. In fact the
two gold pieces he received from me today put him in a good humor.

Heretofore he has always been brusque with me. Regarded me,
it seemed, as the fifth wheel of a wagon. Assigned me no work to
do. Not once has he verified the receipts for goods brought on;
was constantly complaining about having so little to do; was sure
he should die of ennui without some employment. He acted in a way
I thought queer. Finally he said plainly that I would serve my
purposes better at another fort. He was talking in that vein when
I applied to him for work. I felt uncomfortable to see myself re-
garded as superfluous when I knew perfectly well how the time could
be profitably spent.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 79

Now he has decided to go. He will stay at least three months
and return about the time of the first snowfall. Meanwhile Pierre
Gareau will have charge of the post. That man can neither read
nor write. Neither does he know how to enter on the books sales
to the Indians and to the employees, nor to credit the amounts that
are received. In fact he does not know how to reckon. At noon,
just as we were going to watch the war dance around the two scalps
in the village, we discerned on the horizon, beyond the distant for-
est, ascending clouds of smoke from the steamer St. Ange. The
boat from Fort Union was arriving. Indian women who are en-
gaged to carry packs of 10 buffalo robes were summoned from the
dance, painted and bedecked as they were. The dance itself was in-
terrupted.”°

Mr. Kipp came in utmost haste and gave over keys and books to
me, with no special directions. He put on his hat and coat. The
boat was already at the landing. Mr. Picotte came hurrying up
to us without coat and hat and bade us bestir ourselves. He was
much vexed because nothing was in readiness. The bill of lading
should have been at hand when the boat landed. Without the ship-
ping bill, either for the boat’s clerk or for himself, how could he
tell how accounts stood at the post? He bade me give presents to
this and that Indian and charge to his account. I did not know
where they were to be found.

“What have you been doing all this time?”

“Mr. Kipp would not assign me any duties.”

“And yet he will go away. Has he those bills of lading himself?
Then, where can they be?”

At that moment Pierre Gareau and his two wives came upon the
scene, prepared also to go aboard the St. Ange. “Where in heaven’s
name are they setting off for?” I asked myself. Pierre informed
me in passing that, if Mr. Kipp should have to stay, he was going
on a visit to his kinsfolk in the Arikara village. He also gave over
his keys to me. Out of the house came Mr. P. without having found
the bourgeois. The fact is, the latter’s yearning for an inspiring
drop or two had attracted him to the boat.

“You have a fine state of things here.”

I would have liked to creep away somewhere and hide, for he was
certainly right. Nothing was in order, so far, at least, as business
affairs were concerned. There I stood alone, in a state of absolute
unpreparedness, with all the keys in my possession. Every one else
was busy either with the ship’s lading or on the boat. Alexis came

0 Indian women in this region carry bundles on their backs by means of broad leather
bands that cross upon the breast. Iowa women carry their packs by means of bands
across the brow. The difference may be due, however, to the greater weight of the
burden here; 10 robes weigh at least 100 pounds.

80 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

and told me that Buonaparte would give him back his horses. He

went away. Mr. Kipp was not going aboard but Pierre Gareau. |
So—still more. * * * The boat has gone. And Iam here for at |

least a year. The bourgeois says cholera in the States south of us
hindered his departure. He must look after the Indians who are
suffering from influenza, he says, else they might become wild. If
he went to the States he might die himself. The true reason for his
remaining here, however, is Mr. Picotte’s dissatisfaction. He is now
unpacking; comes immediately upon valuable articles, such as casto-
reum, which he had forgotten to dispose of. That makes him
peevish.

July 18. To the accompaniment of a tambourine, played by an

old man, young Indian women and girls gave a dance in full dress |

in our courtyard. They formed an ellipse, facing one another, and —

with feet close together they skipped forward and back to the |

rhythmic call of “eh, eh.” Their cheeks were painted red. A few |
wore feathers in their hair. One carried a cavalryman’s sabre in |
her right hand. The dress of Herantsa 2" women consists of their |

traditional shirt of deerskin or of blue and white striped ticking or
some other cloth made according to their ancient style.

The Crows follow the same mode. Their house dresses are usually |

very greasy and dirty. Their full dress shirts or smocks are trimmed
with rows of elk’s teeth. A hundred teeth cost as much as a good
horse. This high valuation is due to their being so rare: the elk,
as is well known, has only six incisors in the lower jaw. For the
pleasure of witnessing the dance I am indebted to old Totano.
July 19. P. Gareau is back from Fort Clarke. He declares that
the Mandan have cholera and attribute their misfortune to Pale
Face who so frequently brings them ravaging diseases. “The whites
must have buffalo robes, but Indians can get along perfectly well
without the whites.” Mr. P. has bestowed bounties to appease them.

P. G. has fever now. On his return journey he ran down and killed |
a bison, and, while overheated, drank a great deal of impure water.

* * * An Indian offered me five robes for my telescope—a good

price, but I cannot spare my glass: it does me invaluable service by
enabling me to enjoy scenes at a distance that I could not get a view

of close at hand. Besides, being so nearsighted, I could not go out |

on the prairie without it, in this land where I never know what I
may come upon. Furthermore, my telescope was the last gift I
received from my brothers, Louis and Gustav.

The 67 Assiniboin warriors who were put across the river on
Thursday, the 17th, have marched home on account of bad weather
and want of shoes—most probably! They took the field against the
Arikara but have come back empty handed. Went to walk on the

20a Herantsa = Hidatsa; i. e., r—d, a dialectic change.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 81

prairie in hope of finding a certain beautiful person. There were
too many people about in the neighborhood taking care of horses.
Scalps in plenty at the place of sacrifice. The Herantsa, as the Gros

Ventres call themselves (that name is foolish; they have not large

paunches), are mistrustful of my sketching; they say it brings the
pestilence. What would they think if they should see the scalp of
one of their relatives in my possession? I should have to declare it
yee taken from an enemy; then they would be eager for it them-
selves.

Many Indians are sick—afilicted with dry cough and pains in the
head. Mr. Kipp and family, P. Gareau, and others are also very ill

at the fort. Only I, the evil genius (“bad medicine”), am well.
For those deaths on the steamer my art is to blame. In reality the
dry cold wind that has been blowing continually for 14 days causes
this epidemic of colds. Since I came I have enjoyed only 2 warm
days. Wind south, southeast, cool and brisk. Chatted for a long
while with Bellangé. He has been here many years—knows every-
thing. He is smith, wheelwright, farmer, trapper, interpreter, and
trader. He would like to take the position now held by Pierre
Gareau, whom he cannot endure. If he could read and write he
would be ambitious to supersede me also.

July 20. While I was making a study in my room of a droll
shabby dog Le Nain came in and gave me instruction in the Herantsa
dialect. I wrote down the words—sharp pronunciation even for a
Dutchman. Half of our Indian huntsmen rowed across the river
to get fresh meat. For several days now we have had only dried
meat. Not many from the village are on the hunt; most of the
people there are suffering from cold in the chest and from headache
(influenza). Bellangé related many of his adventures. His desire
is to distinguish himself especially as beaver trapper. The fellow
claims to do too much; I don’t believe half he tells me. This year
beaver pelts will not bring, he says, $6 a pound—are not sought
What a power fashion exerts, even in the most distant, out-of-the-
way land! Now that beaver hats are no longer in vogue, the price
of beaver pelts has considerably declined. The low value placed
on their skins is to the advantage of the beavers. There are said to
be a great many of them not far from here but trapping them is too
dangerous for Indians. Besides, as the prairie so frequently swarms
with warlike bands of Arikara, Crows, Cree, Cheyenne, Sioux,
Assiniboin, and even with members of the Blackfeet Tribe, the
Herantsa [Hidatsa] dare venture out only in large numbers.

July 21. As there were few Indians about I made sketches of their
dogs, of which there is an endless number here. Most of them look

like wolves.

Moreover, they do not bark but howl most dolefully. If one dog
begins a chorus 100 strong immediately joins him. Continuous cold

82 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 115

rains. Our huntsmen rowed across the river. I have worse pros-
pects than heretofore for work in the storehouse. But I will at least
show good will. Bellangé gave me further instruction in the Indian
language of signs.

July 22. The epidemic grows constantly worse. Hardly an Indian
seen outside their village. Fever patients now and then jump into
the river in spite of their coughing and sweats. Kipp and Gareau
complain constantly of headache, aching bones, and twitching mus-
cles. Kipp held out no hope of my remaining immune from the
disease now so prevalent. He repeated this so often that I began to
believe he wished me to have influenza. It would relieve his mind
to know that meals need not be cooked for me alone; for if I were
ill, I should have no appetite. Again made studies of dogs. I real-
ize more and more what an advantage it is to be so well prepared
in art that I can readily grasp characteristic feature of the land-
scape, of animals, and of the human figure. This gives me a mastery
I could not possibly attain by studying out with painstaking labor
the relations of things. If one knows the genius, one sees one’s
way, readily, with the individual. Mosquitoes unendurable. Exces-
sive heat, then tempest.

July 28. How fortunately I am placed! What favorable opportu-
nities for studying the Indians!

What I have observed—the hunt, the wild beasts—then I shall have
completed my purpose here. ‘That will come in time. Patience over-
comes all obstacles. Meanwhile I am quite contented to have found
such excellent models among the Indians. The Herantsa Wirussu
are a magnificent people—the women possess little beauty of face
but are splendidly formed. These Indians have a noble mien that is
classic—all about me are living models of the antique. Draped with
their blankets, they offer the best of subjects for the chisel. I often
wish that I was a master sculptor; but then I should have to forego
the pleasure of depicting grandeur in landscape; terrific hailstorms,
in the midst of which these red children eagerly rush out and gather
the hailstones, as many as possible, in order that they may have clear,
cool water to drink. That is a luxury here, where one is dependent
upon muddy lukewarm water from the Missouri.

July 26. The 2 days just passed were of absorbing interest. A
dozen metisse de la Riviére Rouge (half-breeds from Red River)
arrived with a Catholic missionary. They wanted horses, either in
exchange or by purchase. They had come from their large settle-
ment, a day’s journey from here. All were dressed in bright colors,
semi-European, semi-Indian in style—tobacco pouches, girdles, knife
cases, saddles, shoes, and whips were elaborately decorated with glass
beads, porcupine quills, feather quills, etc., in an artistic work done

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 83

by their wives and sweethearts, but their clothes were of Kuropean
rather than western cut.

The young priest, Father Charles Lacombe, began to preach. He
found at once much with which to reproach us. Mr. Kipp, living
here with squaw and children, had a white family in the States. His
half-breed son was not baptized. P. Gareau, living here with two
squaws, was sire of several children equally unregenerate. Bellangé
has a troop of half-breed offspring not yet baptized. As for me, I was
not a Catholic. Things were in a sad state. Every one of the chil-
dren must be christened forthwith. * * * And that was the utmost
that he accomplished. Conditions under which a man had to live in
this region, he was told, were not his concern; white women would not
livehere. * * * Asthe black-robed priest was quartered in my room
I did not escape a lecture. I cut him short, however, with the remark
that there was too wide a divergence of opinion concerning such
matters and too great a difference in age and experience between him
and me to justify his calling me to account. When he found out that
I was not a Romanist he refused to sleep in the same room with me.
Went to his flock encamped outside.

With Catholic priests I am particularly unfortunate. In St.
Joseph I had a misadventure with Scandling, the priest officiating
there. Before the assembled congregation, on October 29, 1848, he
wished to reject me as sponsor at a christening. I was to be god-
father for the son of a Frenchman who was a friend of mine. As I
was not a Romanist I called the father’s attention to their religious
observances and made the condition that he talk the matter over first
with his priest in order to avoid any untoward occurrence. I was
already at loggerheads with Scandling; in a wine trade he apos-
tatized me as a Jew, whereupon J refused to let him have the wine
for communion. The day arrived for the christening and I went
with the boy’s mother and a young man—the other godfather—to
the church. I wondered why the father did not appear. When our
turn came the priest stepped up in front of me and put several ques-
tions in Latin that I was required to answer. As a matter of course
I “melted like butter in the sun.” I was obliged to say that I was
not of his faith. He then objected to my assuming the responsibility
of standing sponsor for a Catholic child. I could not blame him for
that. I was not a little annoyed, however, that the boy’s father had
not forewarned the priest. The mother now intervened—made ex-
euses for her husband—and I gave my word never to alienate the
child from the faith that has the sole disposal of the means of grace.
When the young godfather made a better showing in his examination
than I, the clergyman was mollified and the awkwardness of my

84 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

position much relieved. After the baptism we had to go into an
adjoining room to inscribe our names and to give the priest a small
fee. My goldpiece I wrapped in paper and laid it beside the church
register, thinking in that way to spare the sensibilities of the ecclesi-
astic, However, when I turned to go away I was stopped by the
worthy priest, who remarked that it was customary among his
parishioners to leave a slight token of regard for him. I directed his
attention to the paper beside the book, whereupon, with much bowing
and scraping, he dismissed me with his blessing. By that time I was
really too much out of humor to make myself agreeable to fair
Theresa—and both of us had looked forward with such pleasure to
this meeting.

Among those half-breeds I found a smith who had whisky in his
possession. P. Gareau drank until he was intoxicated, then began
insulting and fighting everybody who refused to drink with him.

He attacked Indians as well as others, pulled off his shirt, and was
of a mind to go into the village and challenge his enemies (members
of the opposition) to combat. He was stopped by the soldiers
(highly respected braves entrusted with the duty of keeping order in
the village or settlement) and brought back. Then I shut the gate.

The priest was sent here by the Bishop of Chicago for the purpose
of founding a mission. He wishes to begin that work, but if he de-
sires success he must not set out by antagonizing respectable people
whose support at this place he must necessarily depend upon. This
is Catholic territory under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Chicago.
Neither Jesuits nor Protestants are allowed to found missions in any
part of this region east and north of the Missouri. * * * Now, these
Metisse are half Chippewa and half Canadian, Scotch—even Swiss
(from an earlier colony of Lord Selkirk’s). Early this morning we
received news that a band of Sauteurs (Ojibwa, Chippewa)? would
come from their settlement and make us a visit. Finally, after all
members of the group had their festive array in order—according to
Indian custom that is of the highest importance—they emerged from
a grove of trees and marched forward toward us. There were perhaps
a hundred of them, some in trappings of war, some on foot, while
others, on horseback, flanked the column.

Five chiefs, carrying ornamental peace pipes or calumets and dis-
playing prominently their trophies in recognition of “coups”, formed
the vanguard. Behind them marched the soldiers in platoon forma-
tion, singing martial airs, beating the drum, and firing their guns.”
Then came three women dressed in one of their several costumes worn

“1The Ojibwa who used to live in the region of Sault Ste. Marie were called Sauteurs.
22Upon oceasions of visits on the part of Indians the firing of a volley from their
muskets to announce their arrival betokens that they come on a mission of peace.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 85

by Indians in this region.** Last in the procession came a chorus of
young men who had not yet won distinction for themselves, Behind
the fort, Quatre Ours, the Herantsa chief, and La Longue Chevelure,
the celebrated speaker, awaited their coming.** When they came up
the Sauteurs paused long enough to hear their speaker’s address of
welcome, then singing together they withdrew with swift, proud step
to the village and sat down in an open place on a narrow strip of dry
ground that bordered what at that time was nothing more than a
large ill-smelling pool of slime inhabited by thousands of frogs.

The five chiefs laid their pipes on the ground in front of them in
such a way that the pipe bowl pointed to the hut occupied by Quatre
Ours and the stem to a wooden fork stuck upright in the earth nearby
The pipes were not lighted. Now, articles of clothing,”* magnificently
ornamented, were brought to the chiefs and laid on the ground in
front of their pipe bowls. There were no presentation speeches but
much dignity of port. During this performance there was continual
singing. I had more than enough of it. As I wished to make pur-
chases from those half-breeds I betook myself to my room, where I
bartered for some beautiful work at a reasonable price, according to
what the same articles would bring today. * * * The Sauteurs
overtook that Sioux who shot Le Boeuf Court Queue and killed the
man and his wife. The woman was so tired she could go no farther,
the man remained with her, while the other three took to flight, riding
the horse in turn. * * * This evening the Sauteurs are off to pitch
their camp farther on and hunt buffaloes—courir la vache, as the
Canadians say. One of the Metisse brought a white buffalo robe to
sell and received two good racehorses in exchange. Such a skin is
very valuable, for white or dappled buffaloes are very rare. There
are sometimes crossbreeds that are said to be very large, splendid
animals.

July 27. The Metisse have also taken their departure. Our Indians
are over the river again to ensnare buffaloes. As soon as they catch
sight of the animals in the distance the “soldiers” assemble in their
hut (socalled assembly lodge) to consider whether they will go on the
hunt. Their decision is reported from the “lodge” by a crier. Nobody
is allowed to take his own course contrary to the decision of the
“soldiers” on the buffalo hunt, because, according to the rules of the

232A skirt of blue cloth that extends to the shoulder and is held in place by 2 broad
bands or supporters over the shoulders and a girdle about the hips, both girdle and bands
elaborately decorated.

% Both chiefs looked particularly self-satisfied in their black dress coats; they wore
black suits, European in style, without the traditional shirt or smock, but with breech-
cloth ; they wore long hair, no gloves, and they carried fans made of eagle feathers.

2>The garments were for the most part so-called habits de Cheffre, i. e., a sort of gay-
colored military coats of red, blue, or green cloth and shirts of soft white deerskin, either
laced or richly embroidered with colors.

86 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

sport, everyone is to enjoy equal opportunities. I bartered a plug of
tobacco to the Metisse for a beautiful bridle; a plug of tobacco and
a pound of candy “kisses” for a knife of odd design with broad,
tapering blade, together with its embroidered sheath; a red coverlet
for a most beautifully ornamented pouch and whip; a pound of coffee
and a pound of candy “kisses” to the Sauteurs for a feather ornament ;
a knife for a boy’s tomahawk; and from Bellangé I got six pairs of
children’s shoes, three pairs of larger moccasins, one pair of gloves
for winter lined with beaver, and two ceintures.

July 28. All the talk of this day is about the disappearance of the
young and beautiful wife of Nez d’Ours, one of our “soldiers”, 1. e.,
one of the braves who are entrusted especially with the protection of
the fort and never allow any transactions with the opposition.

While he was bartering with the Metisse during their stay here
for the white buffalo robe, a young Mandan buck took advantage of
the opportunity to escape with this young woman in a buffalo boat to
the Mandan, who live near the Arikara village. The girl is hardly
15 years of age, rather small, to be sure, but beautiful, graceful, and
to all appearances modest and unassuming inmanner. The elopement
of a wife with her lover is a dangerous venture, but nevertheless
frequently occurs. However much he may care, Nez d’Ours must
treat the matter lightly, else he will be scorned by his comrades as an
unworthy brave. At the same time he has the right to demand the
return of all gifts and horses that he had bestowed for his unfaithful
wife, as well as all that the young Mandan possesses, if he has any-
thing at all, and to give the latter a sound flogging whenever oppor-
tunity is offered. In the presence of several Herantsa I killed a
young chicken snake ** that had the evident intention of crawling
about the floor under my bed. Hardly had I struck the reptile when
one of the Indians fell into my arms and indicated to me that it was
for his medicine (talisman). Then he slowly picked it up with two
sticks and carried it solemnly to the door. Had the Indian brought
the snake into the room? Be that as it may, his superstitious belief
had received a rude shock.

July 29. This evening the steamer Robert Campbell arrived, bring-
ing commodities for the opposition’s company (Primeau, Harney,
and Joe Picotte). Their fort is situated on the other (eastern) side
of the village. The boat has gone farther up the river again. It
left St. Louis on the 2d of July and had met the St. Ange on the way
at Fort Pierre. Last year the St. Ange made the voyage from St.
Louis to Fort Union and back in 82 days. This year 2 months were

26 Chicken snakes are not venomous, neither very often seen. In St. Joseph I saw an
unusually large one, 6 feet long, with a body 2% inches in diameter. Once one of the
Iowa came to me wearing wound around his neck the dried skin of a snake of this sort,
the head and tail of which were decorated. I purchased it just as a curiosity.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 87

necessary. Why? Because $100 a day is charged instead of a fixed
sum for the entire trip. Mr. Kipp is talking again of his desire to
travel on the Robert Campbell to St. Louis. The old man does not
know what he wants to do. It occurs to him at last to unpack his
goods and examine them. Summer is not the season for trade in
furs. Animals shed their hair or fur at that time; their coats are
thick and beautiful only in winter. If I am to remain here, I shall
have a great deal of free time for my studies. The bourgeois says
he must go to Canada and attend to some pressing business with his
two sisters. That arrangement would require my remaining here a
year at least. In the meantime I should learn the Herantsa dialect
and become acquainted with the people and the business. I might
perhaps remain here altogether or at another trading post

I should have to order my effects that I left behind in St. Joseph
sent on to me; otherwise I should lose them. I am not conscious of
the least yearning for so-called cultured societies, for I am not urged
on to this work by ambition to contemplate the most beautiful ob-
jects and reproduce them on canvas but I am inspired by my ideal—
my adoration of beauty. Here one lives much more at ease, is more
free than in the civilized States; the so-called savage is not always
disputing about the teachings of religion, about political matters
the rights of man, etc., principles concerning which men should
have reached some uniform understanding long ago. With the
savage, the sound sense with which Nature endowed him has settled
all such matters. Cursing, quarreling, such as one hears constantly
among us, is never heard among the Indians. Let one but look on
when they are playing billiards; the strokes are so nearly equal, the
game so close, that the players themselves cannot easily decide which
one wins (and they always play for a stake, oftentimes quite high).
They then appeal at once to the bystanders as arbiters. There is no
swearing, no contention—they lack even expressions for such. Fur-
thermore, insult would inevitably bring definite results; deadly re-
venge from the person insulted, involving even bloodshed and death.
With us affairs of honor are either passed over without punishment
or satisfaction is demanded at great cost; the duel is forbidden.

An affront to one’s honor stings to the quick—is a much more
grave offense than horse stealing—yet what means has one to parry
the insult or to get satisfaction? The law. But lawsuits are very
expensive, and because so many people are unable to bear the neces-
sary expense involved in punishing an offender by legal action they
put up with offenses that would otherwise have deadly results. For
that reason I will say nothing in favor of dueling; that is no means
of arriving at a just settlement; either the stronger or the more skill-
ful, not the one suffering unjustly, will be the victor. The justice of

81634—37-—_7

88 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

the court should inflict punishment upon the slanderer at once, with-

out cost, and procure satisfaction for the person maligned if he has |
been wronged. I exchange two good linen shirts with Pierre Gareau _

for a most beautiful saddle pad. While I was taking a walk on the ©

prairie today I met a number of interesting children playing in

groups near their grazing horses. Several little girls, who had made —

a shelter from the blazing sun with their blankets, were singing to
the rhythm of drumbeats and tambourines. Their song practice soon
enticed one of the boys who were also guarding horses, and he taught
a little dwarf to dance. I saw small boys quite frequently also at

their first shooting practice. With grass stalks for arrows they —
aimed at the leaping frogs and, when they hit the mark, laughed with _

delight to see the little white-bellied creatures turn somersaults in
their swift movements to escape.

July 30. Mr. Kipp gave me today a packet of newspapers that he |
had received by boat. The dissension and discord in Europe sicken —

me. How peaceful is life here!

August 1. The children come frequently to see me, now that they
know I gave several of them sugar. My tiny window is often quite
filled with cheerful faces that watch me, and entreat for “mantsiqua”
(sugar) as I write or sketch. A girl of 14 crops up repeatedly;
she attracts my notice more than the others, because her hair is en-
tirely gray, and with her young, pretty face gives her an extraor-
dinary appearance. Gray hair is said to be quite general among the
Mandan—a sort of family misfortune, not due to severe illnesses.
In this village men set more value on personal adornment and good
appearance than do the girls; they take especially good care of their
hair, even wear false hair glued to their own, but that is done only by
those men who are accredited with “coups.” The hair of the Herantsa
Indians is not smeared with grease and has therefore a rough, reddish-
brown look. The men wear their hair either hanging loose or coiled
into a knot above the brow. La Longue Chevelure, as his name im-
plies, is distinguished by his own unusually long hair. I saw him only
once when he allowed it to hang down, and that was the time he
delivered the address of welcome to the Sauteurs. He wore black
clothes throughout and a black hat—not even a white shirt. He let
his hair loose over his dress coat. In fact, the Indians think that,
aside from the uniform, black clothes, such as are worn by the Presi-
dent of the United States, are most fitting for ceremonial occasions.

Since Indian women are accustomed to the nudity of Indian men
and look upon that condition as in the nature of things, to be taken
as a matter of course, no immoral effect is produced on them; while
the men, who have opportunities all the time to see naked women,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 89

children, and girls in bathing,?? are just as little affected. They
regard clothes more as protection from sun and weather. Girls go
naked even to their third year; boys, to their sixth. Often both are
also sucklings at that age. When girls are in bathing one can usually
see from their manner whether they are still innocent in the real
sense of the word (in a moral sense). An innocent girl is not
ashamed—knows no reason why she should be. Perfectly nude, she
runs about, pursues and splashes her companions, shouts and laughs
as joyfully as though she owned the world. Not so with the self-
conscious maiden. She knows—what she knows. She stands in a
posture & la Venus; she laughs no longer in a carefree way but muses
upon that of which she is aware, upon what she desires or fears.

August 4. Between 9 and 10 o’clock the Robert Campbell returned
from Fort William. Mr. Kipp did not leave on that boat, though he
has often spoken of going. The old man does not know what he will
do. Mosquitoes are still unendurable; unless a man wears clothes of
deerskin they drive him raving mad.

Unless one makes a Hades of one’s room every evening, with the
smoke of sweet sage, one cannot possibly sleep at all. Do these pests
prefer the blood of a white, unsmoked body? Inasmuch as scenes in
my neighborhood have little variation, I am now attempting to
perfect my first sketches and therefore I am paying especial attention
to details.

August 7. The weather is again getting cooler; one is already
sensible of the lengthening of the evenings and the nights. I long
for the winter, that I may observe the hunting in this region. Just
as a variation from my usual life here, such a little adventure would
not be undesirable. If I had only taken some courses in chemistry, I
might amuse myself in a delightful way with the Indians; they would
regard my experiments as “great medicine’”—something supernatural.
To get on in the wilderness demands, generally, a knowledge of many
widely varying subjects not fundamentally acquired. Chemistry,
pharmacology, languages, agriculture, cattle breeding, trade, hunting,
and every possible handicraft one should have, at least, a sufficient
knowledge of to put to practical use. With a musical instrument (for
this region, particularly, a loud sounding one) one might afford much
entertainment, both for oneself and other people. I am frequently
sensible of this lack in my own training; I have given myself too
exclusively to painting; but, on the other hand, to perfect my work
in art I have quite enough to do.

August 8. Have been thinking much about the past—how much I
have endured. My aims are nearer their fulfillment. At last we
begin unpacking and verifying commodities consigned to this post.

27It is certain that half-concealed nakedness excites the senses more than a completely
nude condition.

90 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

August 10. For some time I have been occupied with the thought
of painting an especially beautiful buffalo robe, but not with the
intention of depicting my “coups.” On the contrary, I will paint
thereon Indian scenes in my own manner. Today I have the plan
complete: Across the robe at the top, an Indian village; below, a fort ;
on one side, at the bottom, the outstanding periods in the life of an
Indian brave, from youth to old age; on the other side, the life of an
Indian woman; in the center, “coups” of my heroes. Heroic exploits
and adventures of my heroes will include, necessarily, the most im-
portant wild animals of the chase. Not a bad idea! I gave an order
to Pierre Gareau for the hide, complete and whole, of a buffalo bull,
including the head, tail, and legs. Such hides as that rarely come
into trade for the reason that, on account of their size and thickness,
they are too difficult for the women to handle. Furthermore, such
hides cost as much as three of the usual size, because the hunter, when
flaying the animal, has to be so extremely careful that twice the usual
amount of time and trouble is required. Bellangé is of the opinion
that a buffalo hide may offer good material on which to sketch if it is
shaved perfectly smooth. Perhaps that is true of cowhide, but the
hide of a buffalo bull?

Such fancies often lead me astray; if they prove to be practical,
then they become a definite aim; if not, I put them out of mind. One
profits by experience. My ideal of the perfect human form was at
first only such a notion. As I progressed, however, in my studies
from nature and from the antique and with my investigations in the
field of aesthetics my conception of the high purpose of the fine arts
gave to that early fancy a more and more definite and lofty direction
until it became at last worthy an artist’s life purpose—his ideal. To
create the human form in its highest perfection, as reflecting its
living spirit or, in the language of Holy Writ, the image of God,
became my high ideal. While my present aim to reproduce this In-
dian life in art is merely a preparation for my ultimate life achieve-
ment, still the two purposes are inseparably connected. I must find
a setting for my Adam and Eve, a paradise that bears the character
of early nature in a warm climate. I must become acquainted with
the mode of life among primitive people in order that I may truly
represent them. The ideal of a modern painter must urge him on to
loftier aims than were achieved by the Greeks; loftier than those of
the Christian Middle Ages, when an artist’s ideal was to personify
certain attributes in the character he represented. This might be
called the ideal of blind faith. The modern ideal of man must
comprise all good attributes.

We find beauty in everything where the form corresponds to the
indwelling idea; still our loftiest conception of beauty is man in his

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 91

first perfection, as perfect soul, embodied with noble feeling in an
equally perfect form.

The ideal of the Greek sculptor (and most probably of the painter
also) was perfection of the human form, not actuated by the spiritual ;
a serene being undisturbed by passion or struggle. Their gods served
as the loftiest ideal to which they could attain in the representation
of human perfection in bodily form. But what gods they were! In
what a slight degree they differed from men whom the artist com-
monly saw! ‘To be sure, gods could make themselves invisible—could
at their pleasure transform themselves to other shapes. Not infre-
quently they made use of that godlike advantage to convert themselves
into men. Did they exemplify nobler qualities of mind than men
possessed—more lofty thinking? Were they not as a usual thing
subject to the base passions of hate, envy, sensuality, insatiable desire
for power, of deception, etc.? The Greek deities, as well as those of
the Romans, exemplified lower standards in thought, in feeling, and
in morals than were practiced by the men of that day, and they were
actuated in their dealings by less worthy motives. They did not dis-
tinguish themselves for high qualities of soul; the artists of the classi-
cal period therefore found it impossible to take a more lofty flight.

That perfection to which the best of them attained has always been
a marvel—all the more so as the people of that age, notwithstanding
their high degree of cultivation in art, lagged far behind in other
respects.

When Phidias, one of the famous Greek artists—one may say the
greatest of all antiquity—first attained his ideal in “classic repose”
that was not to be surpassed, a number of celebrated sculptors in
Greece and Asia Minor attempted to portray states of feeling, as in
the Niobe group and the Laocoén. That marked a certain advance,
but did not go beyond those few works.

The ideal of Raphael and his famous contemporaries is just as far
beyond that of the Greeks as the Christian God is exalted above
pagan deities. However, Raphael was also a child of the time in
which he lived: His Christus and his Maria are representations of
blind faith; with all their moral purity they reveal no vibrating in-
tellect, no creative intelligence, no free will. Good characters and
bad are portrayed, to be sure, in a manner distinctively excellent, but
the greatest of the artist’s creations are but passive instruments in
“their Father’s hand.”

We artists of the modern day desire, first of all, free will; for,
without choice, to what virtues can we attain? What is the use of
withstanding temptation if one is only the tool of a higher, invisible
power? What purpose is served if one assumes that victory or fail-
ure is already predestined in his own behalf or for the good of

92 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

others—therefore inevitable? Furthermore, of what avail are pre-
eminent talents if, upon every great discovery in the realm of science,
upon every triumph anew over material things, the cry is raised,
“That is tempting God.” And then, later on, “It was the will of
God.”

Such blind belief is, according to my view at least, the standpoint
of one in subjection. The temptation of our Savior would impress
us as a silly farce if He had not of His own free will resisted the
splendors of temporal power. Moreover, the miracles would have
little significance as direct emanation from divine omnipotence;
yet that must be true if the intelligence of Christ dominates matter
to such degree! How much higher order of being is man, endowed
with intelligence and made an agent of his own will! How much
more lofty such an ideal than that of blind faith, than that of “classic
repose”! How little we are moved by Minerva, goddess of wisdom,
who is all-wise yet impotent! How stupid seems amiable Venus!
How lacking in spirit the meek Madonnas of Raphael!

Would the Christian ideal sacrifice beauty in the least degree if the
artist conceived his perfect being as endowed with divine intelligence,
with independent will? If he represented human beings as more
godlike rather than gods in the form of man? Certainly not.

My ideal is the human creature, in whom are harmoniously com-
bined lofty intelligence, noble mind, and ardent feeling, represented
in corresponding form; difference in sex being taken into account—
that is, without debarring other qualities, man must be portrayed
with more spirit and energy, woman with more noble feeling.

But for the necessity of representing the figures fully clothed, I
would embody this ideal of mine in Christus and Maria. Clothes
are ever an indication of weakness and shame. My ideal is to have
no cause for shame—in my ideal, mind and heart are pure. No
clothing is to be needed, for in a tropical landscape protection from
cold is unnecessary. Aboriginal man! Primeval world! My vision
of man in his perfect state shall be embodied in the nude, with such
beauty, such nobility of form, that the perfection of the figure, the
purity of line, and chaste delineation of feature will permit in the
mind of a beholder of cultivated taste not the least vestige of sensuous
appeal. I said “a beholder of cultivated taste” because one needs a
public made up of individuals who have been accustomed to such
figures in antique art and are not inclined to redden at the least sug-
gestion of nudity, to avert their eyes in order to conceal embarrass-
ment, or, perhaps, to cry out, “Fie! For shame!” for the reason
that in contemplating the nude figure, most beautiful of all created
forms, they are sensitive only to physical attraction.

However, it is not primitive man in his life of untroubled ease that
I shall attempt to reproduce in painting; I will represent him under

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 93

circumstances that test his faculties of heart and mind—his force of
character. For that reason I am studying American Indians; for,
if I acquaint myself with their way of life, I can later on portray
also aborigines of the white race.

The scanty drapery I shall employ will most likely give offense to
the general public, but that attitude toward my art shall not deter
me from pursuing my aesthetic aims. An artist, conscious of his
trained abilities and singleness of purpose, is not to allow his course
to be determined by popular approval; on the contrary, he is to assist
in the artistic cultivation of the populace. To that end he must
necessarily assume an independent position.

How difficult the task! What a long period of time and study,
what perseverance is required for the accomplishment of my purpose!

Here I am interrupted by La Queue Rouge, who has watched me
a long time, wondering how I dare continue writing such a great
while without taking notice of him. At last, as I raise my eyes trying
to bring other thoughts to mind, he asked: “Sagiz?” (Knough?).
“Tampa!” (Don’t understand !)

August 11. This afternoon a cool, brisk wind from the west has
considerably lowered the high temperature of the morning. A bas
les maringuins! [i. e., down with the mosquitoes]. Yesterday I
swapped coffee and sugar with a young girl for a queer sort of em-
broidered needle case. Today the same girl brought a friend with
her who had what seemed to be a bodkin case; swapped with her also.
The girls wore these as ornaments pinned on the front of their
deerskin shirts.

So I passed the time bartering goods I had brought with me for
objects of Indian make. To Pierre Gareau I gave a bolt of calico
for a man’s buckskin shirt, elaborately ornamented, and a woman’s
shirt-dress made of two whole bighorn pelts; each of these, at the
current price, was valued at $12. Bellangé’s Assiniboin wife will
supply me with a similar garment, made more simply and untrimmed,
for 18 pounds of coffee. From Bellangé himself I bought a pair of
ornamented trousers made of buckskin for $10; they are cut accord-
ing to European mode and trimmed in Indian fashion. Finally,
from Mr. Kipp I received six beautiful arrows for my elk-horn bow.
I gave him in return a flask of cherry brandy and two pounds of
candy “kisses” for his Mandan woman. I shall probably pay the
further price of a sleepless night, due not only to my joy in my new
possessions but to the possession, on the part of the “boss” and his
wife, of the flask of cognac!

Ugh! how the rain pours. How agreeable here in this Indian
country, so far withdrawn from the stir of the world, to dream of
the ideal toward which I strive and to philosophize. Yes; my ideal
human form shall be embodied in the nude; not for the purpose of

94 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuL. 115

asserting, however, that the highest ideals can not be attained other-
wise. On the contrary, in certain instances, the highest art requires
that figures be clothed. My Adam has no world to discover, as
had Columbus; his paradise is ready for him.

But his intelligence must show that he is capable of the loftiest
endeavor possible to human genius; like Daniel in the lion’s den, he
must be able to quell wild beasts with a glance. While in primitive
man genius is merely existent and offers no difficulty to the artist
except in the portrayal of nakedness free from any suggestion of
sensuous appeal (otherwise, the artistic purpose would be lost; the
work of art pernicious), in civilized man genius in its fullest develop-
ment reveals itself in the greatness of character and presents that
most difficult effort, on the part of the artist, to show the effect of
those lofty qualities upon the outer world. If I were not so enthu-
siastic for the nude human figure in art, I should not have thought
it necessary to travel so far in order to find models for the perfecting
of my studies, for a handsomer or more intelligent race of men does
not exist than our highlanders. Neither can our natural scenery be
surpassed in any other land, except perhaps in Mexico, where tropical
nature is varied with magnificent mountain scenes and lakes of equal
beauty. Primitive conditions exert an irresistible charm upon me.
Here I may clothe the figures only so far as to make my pictures
acceptable to the greater number of people. The most beautiful
of garments can not serve the purpose in art as well as the perfect
human form; garments are beautiful, in an artistic sense, only when
they reveal to advantage the human form.

Our Celtic forefathers would appeal to me as models for my paint-
ings if their nether garments were not so inartistic. If I should leave
them off what an outcry I should cause among the archeologists!
O Diviko! How picturesque our highlanders would appear without
their pointed skull caps; our women without their stiff sleeves. Such
trivialities often bring an artist to a standstill, because he must be
true to nature!

Whether I shall attain to this lofty ideal is another question. I do
not doubt that in the course of time—after a long time—I shall accom-
plish my aims, for the same qualities of mind and soul that enable
me to conceive such an ideal will empower me to embody my vision in
forms. Now I need only to perfect myself in the technique of paint-
ing. Up to this time I have only made studies—very few paintings.
When I shall have mastered technique I will then venture to under-
take the poetic, the aesthetic principles of art that will enable me to
achieve my aims in composition and expression. When I have reached
my ideal I may assume that my taste is refined. Inasmuch as the
pictures I would create have long been distinct in my own imagina-
tion and during the six years I have already devoted to the study of

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 95

composition in rough sketches, my enthusiasm has never grown less,
but, on the contrary, has ever urged me on to higher aims as my
studies progressed, I am encouraged to believe that, if I live and am
granted the blessings of health and independence for only a few years
longer, I shall accomplish the ends I have in view.

An artist striving for a certain aim must have an ideal beyond his
grasp, else he might think he had attained perfection. That would
bring cessation of effort and result in retrogression. That which is
difficult to attain inspires to higher and more enduring achievement
than that which is easily accomplished.

Earlier in my career I believed that I must, as artist, perfect my
conception of the form as well as the godlike mind of Christ. But
who knows in what form God is to be conceived? Can not the human
creature be distinguished for lofty qualities of mind and heart with-
out being considered, necessarily, the tool of a higher power with no
will of his own? Since my ideal has, luckily, survived my change of
faith I have no longer anything to fear.

August 18. Toward sunset yesterday I heard an outcry from the
direction of the village, followed, as usual, by the howling of all the
dogs. Everything was in commotion. I hurried out to the gate, curi-
ous to know what was going on. The trouble was that some one from
Yankton had carried off four horses belonging to an old Crow Indian.
He could not find them anywhere. In a trice young braves, mounted
and armed, were galloping across the prairie. By the time they
reached the forest, however, night had fallen; to follow any trace was
therefore impossible. Until late at night they were heard singing and
firing off their muskets as they returned home. Today they say the
horses have been found. Only a little excitement for the Indians and
me. This entire day there has been rain and nothing but rain.

August 14, La Grande Chevelure paid me a visit today, bringing
one of his friends with him. He entreated me, with signs, to open
my sketchbook for them that they might see with their own eyes and
decide whether my sketches were really the cause of the sickness so
prevalent among them. Owing to the absence of Quatre Ours, who is
with Mr. Culbertson and the Assiniboin chiefs at Fort Laramie, La
Grande Chevelure is now chief of the Herantsa.

He is distinguished for his intelligence as well as for his gift of
eloquence ; Quatre Ours is accredited with more “coups”, having 14 to
his account. La Grande Chevelure finds in my drawings nothing in
the least to warrant suspicion. He will talk with his people.

He is a middle-aged man of dignified and imposing presence. He
has fine eyes, a well-arched chest, and small hands. He wears usually
an old buffalo robe and carries in his hand an eagle wing for fan.
His breast and arms have tattoo marks. As president of the council
he is regarded the most notable personage in the village and as the

96 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

war chieftain of Quatre Ours he is most influential. While he was
looking at my drawings, I studied his interesting features and, as
soon as he left, I made a sketch of him immediately from memory.
I must, however, get a more exact likeness; here, with Mr. Kipp, I
shall have opportunity to do that, for I can see him almost daily.
Of the two chiefs he is superior to Quatre Ours, who is not distin-
guished for personal force and valor. By the way, Quatre Ours has
a perfectly beautiful wife, with the most finely chiseled features that
ft have seen for a long time.

August 15. I hear daily that Schmidt, the bourgeois at the oppo-
sition company’s trading post, dins into his children’s ears continu-
ally that the great company brings among them all the devastating
diseases so prevalent and that the painter especially is to blame, for
all those whom he sketches fall ill. That is perfidy, pure and simple,
and may in the end place me in a most undesirable situation.

What will trade envy not contrive! <A girl of doubtful character
stole from me today my last Regensburg pencil; she committed the
theft in revenge because I was indifferent to her. This is the second
time articles belonging to me have been purloined by women. The
first time the theft occurred while I was at supper; an old Iowa
woman carried off some drinking glasses. As Witthae was present
I soon found out who the culprit was and went at once to her tent
across the river to get them back again. The woman hed. Never-
theless I unpacked her leather pouch in spite of her gabble and found
the glasses snugly hidden among old clothes. I am surprised not to
have been robbed more frequently, especially as cld women are repre-
sented by certain writers as a thievish rabble. When one considers
their poverty and the fascination of that which glitters and sparkles,
indispensable objects in their eyes, one must admit that, for these
people, such temptations are more than they can resist; besides, steal-
ing from an enemy is, according to their view, not only permissible
but honorable. They do not steal what would serve them for food,
but objects that have for them an irresistible attraction. The pencil
with which I made sketches was “medicine” for the Indian woman;
the bright, glittering cut-glass tumblers exerted, more or less, the
same effect.

Pierre Gareau put me on my guard concerning “the blonde,” i. e.,
the gray-haired girl, because he sees her so frequently here and she
is said to be married. She is certainly not yet 14 years old, and
already a wife.’® She belongs to an old man who brought her up in
order to have about him a young, invigorating person. If he finds
out anything about our relations, he may rightly claim all I possess,

Indian girls in America mature at a very early age. I knew Creoles in St. Louis
who were married at 14; one, in fact, at 11 years old. Her husband (Marey) played
the réle of doctor when the Americans occupied Santa Fé.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 97

end I may indeed be satisfied if that is all he demands; a jealous man,
really outraged in his love, might make an attempt upon my life.
That would be for me a pleasure dearly bought. Perhaps this is in
reality a trap the old sinner lays for me, after having seen, not long
ago, the contents of my boxes. Who would have thought that so
young a girl could be his wife?

Have not sought its companionship hitherto, but this fragrant
blend pleases me well. My pipe will not get me into trouble. And as
I am required for politeness sake to smoke with men who visit me,
I can also resort to the same means of passing the time when alone.

August 16. The wife of La Longue Chevelure is suddenly dead
from cholera, I am told; she suffered violent spasms of colic and
vomiting. Is it a coincidence that cholera should first make its
appearance here now just after we have opened those bales of goods
that we brought with us?

Mr. Kipp says that heretofore the attacks were caused by the
eating of too much unripe fruit, by that ill-smelling pond in the
midst of the village, and by breathing stagnant air confined within
the stockades, through which the wind never blows freely. Hot sun
and cold wind may be the cause of some illnesses. Schmidt, on the
other hand, tells the superstitious Indians they have cholera, a dis-
ease they have caught from the great fur-trading company. And I
am inclined to believe that Schmidt is this time right; the conditions
I have mentioned above would produce cholera any time.

Bellangé seems moody; one evening he can not have enough of
relating his adventures; will talk to me until late at night; another
day he will not say a word. It is a matter of indifference to me;
besides, it is not for one in my position to be familiar with him and
pay no attention to my chief. Day before yesterday he was quite
content to conclude some advantageous bargains with me; yesterday
he hardly recognized me, for fear, most likely, that I might decide
not to trade; today he wishes my double-barreled shotgun at any
price. As long as I live in this region, however, I can not let him
have my gun. He offered me just such a buffalo head as the most
famous warriors appear in when they perform the buffalo dance.
He will, however, have great difficulty in getting one, for they are
very highly prized; so he must himself order such a head made ready
for me by his Assiniboin wife.

Then all at once he has a desire to learn reading and writing, in
order that he may, in the course of time, displace P. Gareau and
perhaps steal a march on me; for, he says, I can see in one year all
that is of interest to me here—every year is merely a repetition of
those gone before. Skirmishes and affrays will most likely end once
for all when these Indians agree to the treaty with Uncle Sam. Oh,
yes; I smell the rat!

98 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL, 115

August 17. Sunday. This recent epidemic is getting the upper
hand—not a day but somebody dies in the village. The Indians have
such dread of the disease that they have determined to hurry away
to the hills; they would like to take their families with them and live
in the huts they build for summer on the Knife River. This would
afford me an opportunity to sketch the village as well as the place
of sacrifice and Indian catafalque. Take advantage of every thing,
even that which is unfortunate.

August 18. Diable! Here Iam confined to the house! At 9 o0’clock
this morning Mr. Kipp came and begged me to put my drawings
away—to allow no Indian to see them ever again. They talked in
the village of nothing but my sketches. I immediately put them
under lock and key. Then I went out to help Reith, one of our
engagees, with the tedding of hay.

Soon Le Corbeau Rouge came to me and gave me to understand,
with signs, that I was to go to my room and stay there; my looking
at everything and writing down what I saw was the cause, he said,
of so much sickness and death in the village. His signs were unmis-
takable. I replied that, though he was, to be sure, a most highly
esteemed brave, he was no chief, least of all my chief; 1. e., he had
no authority over me. Nevertheless I went later to the bourgeois,
who said my own safety demanded that I remain in my room, or
at least inside the fort. The entire blame for the cholera epidemic
was cast upon me. Relatives of some of those who had died were
exasperated, almost frantic, and when and where I least expected
it an arrow might pierce my ribs. While the trading company would
not regard it a matter of principle to revenge an injury done me,
still by exposing myself to danger I should, if attacked, be the cause
of much disturbance and ill feeling. He might forbid their eating
raw pumpkins, turnips, berries, and green maize as much as he liked,
but superstition was so deeply rooted in the Indians and the old
wives were so constantly telling of earlier cases that they could
account for in no other way than in the remarkable coincidence of
my having sketched portraits of the persons dead, and in doing that
had necessarily taken away their life—otherwise the drawings could
not be such exact likenesses. His supplies of medicine had aroused
their anger, etc. I hope all of them will go up on the plateau; other-
wise I shall, sooner or later, be obliged to leave.

To travel down the river alone in a boat made of buffalo hide would
be most romantic, it is true; but since the Arikara and Mandan are
even more incensed against me than the tribe here, such a journey
would be too dangerous a venture. I have, moreover, some friends to
defend me here, but there I have none. Once I was on the river the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 99

Arikara would receive news of it before I could reach there and
would watch for me.*°

After dinner I told Mr. Kipp that I was ready to leave at once if the
interest of the company or his own interest, in particular, made my
departure advisable. All right, he said; but wait a week longer and
see whether the disease spreads or not. It is to be hoped that out on
the open prairie the epidemic will lose its force; in that event nothing
more will be said.

Tf the worst comes, then something can be done at once, if I hold
myself in readiness. In any case I am not to go outside the fort. If
I do, he has no means either to protect me or to revenge an attack on
my life. The sick who were left behind will by and by recover or
they will die; in either case their people who are taking care of them
will goaway. Then I shall again enjoy liberty. Let us have a smoke;
time brings good counsel. JI find it strange that cholera broke out
here for the first time upon the unpacking of those bales of goods;
yet the same disease was prevalent some time before among the
Arikara south of us. None of the boats, at least, had anyone on board
suffering from cholera when they landed either at Fort Clarke or at
this place.

August 19. The wind has shifted from east to WSW.; it brought us
fine cool weather. The sick people are better; those in good health
and the convalescent are going away. In violation of orders and
against my own conscience I had to yield, notwithstanding, to the
desire to draw. The morning was so insufferably long; the thought
of having to leave the fort, to say adieu to the Upper Missouri, per-
haps, even in the next hour, was hard to endure.

Quickly I drew the water tub *° against the door and through my
erimy windowpane I made some sketches of the interior of the fort.
My two sketches finished, I put everything very quickly in place
again, and over a pipe of blended tobacco I reflect upon what con-
science is. Earlier in life I was taught that conscience is the voice

2 That the disease is really cholera I have no longer the least doubt; that this out-
break of the epidemic is due to the opening of those bales of goods that were packed in
St. Louis while cholera was raging there I doubt just as little. That I did not catch
the infection in St. Joseph, on the St. Ange, nor yet here I ascribe less to regular diet
than to lack of fear and, most of all, to a happy frame of mind due to my having realized
the aims for which I took the journey—to the joy of being at the work I had long desired
to do.

20In all of the rooms that are occupied there is kept a large tub or cask filled witn
water for daily use and also as a means of protection in case of fire. There are neither
fountains nor cisterns at the forts; as a consequence, when Mr. Kipp, the bourgeois, went
on a visit to the Blackfeet his fort was burned down. Water is brought from the turbid
Missouri, which stream is within easy distance of the fort, yet too far to supply water
for a burning building without the aid of a fire-engine hose. This lack of water near at
hand would be much more serious in time of war, because most of the forts are on
heights and can without the least difficulty be cut off from all approaches to the river.

100 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

of God, but now I consider this inner monitor to be but the result of
moral training, according to which our standards shift and change,
inchning always in the direction given by our education and expe-
rience. If conscience were the voice of God, of one God, His voice
would be always the same—in every human being the same. On the
contrary, consciences differ in every human being. What one deems
right another holds to be wrong, and vice versa.

Le Loup Court Queue comes with his nephew to ask that they
sleep in my room in order that they may not have to see his mother
die. He then has no fear of me; he asked, to be sure, with signs
whether I were sick? Did I cough? Have violent pain? Con-
vulsions ?

August 19. Made a drawing of the inner construction of a skin
boat. Catlin tries to prove from the similarity of these boats to the
Irish coracle that the Mandan derive their origin from Madoc’s
colony. That this boat made of buffalo hide belongs peculiarly to
the Mandan is just as unlikely as that winter huts are of Mandan
origin. All Indians who dwell on the prairies make use of skin boats
on account of the scarcity of wood. Such conclusions, based purely
on analogies, are questionable.

Hermann Weiss includes in his admirable work on Costumes of all
Nations, page 239, figure 136, a description and drawing of Assyrian
river boats that look very much like the skin boat used by these
Indians. According to him Herodotus makes mention of them, and
according to more recent travelers they are still in use in that part of
the world.

Catlin is inclined to see in Madoc’s Welsh colony also the builders
of Indian mounds in Ohio on the Muskingum, from which place the
latter’s descendants were driven out and appeared later as Mandan
on the upper Missouri. If he had been acquainted with the thorough
investigation of these highly interesting remains made by Squier and
Davis he would not have hit upon that strange idea, for the Mound
Builders had left their dwellings in the Ohio Valley long before
Madoc could have landed in North America in 1170.

What Catlin calls blonde hair among the Mandan is nothing more
than sun-burned hair that is not continually smeared with grease.
Black horses become somewhat brown if they are not well cared for
and are exposed to all kinds of weather. My horse, Fashion, was a
striking example; I bought her for a bay and by painstaking care
gave her the lustrous coat of a splendid black horse. I may mention,
also, that the lighter color of some Indians’ skin (not only Mandan)
is easily traced to the “whites.”

August 20. Of all the occupants of the fort, only Reith and I are in
good health. When he went after stovewood, therefore, I assisted

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 101

him with the flatboat, with loading the carts, and with the bags, as
he brought the loads up the steep river bank. Mr. Kipp consented un-
willingly to my serving as clerk. I replied to him, however, accord-
ing to his own statement that, with nothing to employ my time, I
should become peevish and ill. I had expected, I told him, to be of
some service here, not to live as a lord. Whereupon he assured me
that he understood perfectly well; that I should soon find quite enough
to do, when he went away. In winter, moreover, I am accustomed
to have a horse at my service, by the hour, so that I can take part in
the hunt and extend my opportunities for observation and study.
My willingness to remain here disposed him so far toward liberality
that he added further, what he had always forgotten heretofore to
mention, that if I should get hungry between meals I was only to
go into the kitchen and order something to eat. That may be done;
for instance, the married engagees receive so much meat for their
families and this, they find time, always, to eat during the interval
between meals, while I have nothing at all from 6 o’clock in the
morning to 2 o’clock in the afternoon, a condition against which my
empty stomach often cries out in protest.

Mr. Kipp speaks of undertaking a journey to the States on horse-
back in the autumn. Not at all probable.

Our courtyard is crowded with old men and women who were un-
able to go along when the others departed. Concerning their age,
they can estimate at least that they are certainly more than a hun-
dred years old—or I would better say a hundred winters, because they
can reckon more easily by snows that have fallen; more than 60 or 70
years they do not attempt to count, for they have not the least interest:
in knowing their exact ages. These old crones are disagreeable crea-
tures. I look upon them as sentinels; each possesses, unfortunately,
one or more pet dogs, some young, some old, that make the night
hideous with their continual howls. Sleep is impossible. Bill, the
cook, rose up in his wrath and sent an arrow through the body of one
of these canines and then threw him over the palisades. That rash
act made an enemy of the old woman; she is now quarreling unceas-
ingly about us.

Toward evening Jim Hawkins, a negro from Fort Union, arrived
here. Mr. Culbertson intended at first to take him as cook to Fort
Laramie, but left him behind temporarily at Fort Union, where he
was also obliged to serve as cook. He says Dennik,* the bourgeois
there, is a hard man, liked by nobody, not even here; he keeps two
Indian wives, Jim says, and squanders all he has on them; begrudges
anything paid the employees, oppresses the engagees with too much
work, is never satisfied, ete.

7 T. e., Denig.

102 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Jim ran away—took a boat that belongs to the great company.
He must have related his story to Mr. Kipp with highly pleasing
embellishments, for the latter put him in the kitchen forthwith and
sent Bill, who has been our cook hitherto, to the hayfield.

Jim was at one time in the employ of Mr. P. A. Sarpy in Belle
Vue, where I knew him quite well. All he earned there he squandered
on old immoral Indian women; consequently he could not be kept
longer. He is really the slave of someone in St. Louis and is required
to pay a certain sum to his master every year; the balance of his wages
he may spend as he likes. Here he is free, it is true, but the company
must be responsible, more or less, for his life.

Jim had bad luck today on the Missouri; having been already nine
days on the river, his provisions were exhausted. He was obliged
to go hunting, but dared not trust himself far from his boat, so shot
nothing. He found instead, however, an abundance of wild cherries,
carried a goodly portion to his skiff and this morning, in perfect ease
of mind, was gulping down one handful after another, stones and
all, when his boat struck a snag (“gigot” in French) and was upset,
throwing him, his stolen booty, and his rifle into the water.

Luckily he swam to the shore on this side of the stream. After
shaking his wet clothes and looking sorrowfully but in vain for his
lost belongings, he was then obliged to work his way through a wood
full of bogs, from which he emerged at last on a hill and saw in the
far distance the glimmer of something bright. That he took, rightly,
to be our palisades and wandered on in this direction.

La Queue Rouge, my language teacher, comes along with Le Loup
Court Queue to share my room with me. Just for the fun of the
thing he put on a superb military cap adorned with all sorts of horns
and plumes in order that I might have a model for a sketch. His
friend wrapped a costly mantle of otter skin about his bare legs, which
made a sorry appearance in conjunction with his richly ornamented
leather shirt and the imposing headgear. At first I was reluctant
to make a sketch of La Queue Rouge; I asked him whether he were
not afraid of falling ill. What was I talking about? He laughed
at the idea of such a thing! Extraordinary, what different views
these people take. Did he, I wonder, wish merely to give proof of
his bravery—his fearlessness ?

August 21. Le Loup Court Queue has gone. The only men from
the village now left here are La Queue Rouge and a brother of Quatre
Ours; the former is nursing back to health his convalescent wife,
who is so weak she can scarcely stand. Her fever rages to such a
heat that she wears no clothes at all.

After she had lain perfectly nude for a long while today on her
buffalo robe in the shadow of the palisades, she wished to come alone

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 103

into the courtyard; fortunately I met her just as she grew dizzy from
weakness and was about to fall. I assisted her to her relatives in the
court. ‘Two more people have died in the village (one of them the
mother of my language teacher). Else I might make a sketch of the
settlement. I will steal away to the river shore instead and sketch
the boat landing, the watering place, and the bathing pool.

Jim was tortured to-day by the cherry stones; he suffered so terri-
bly from griping pains and cramps that he lay down across the corner
of a packing case in the courtyard; then he fell to the ground, writh-
ing like a wounded animal. By means of a very strong emetic he
was relieved.

August 22. Since our Indians went away there is no fresh meat.
We have only cured meat served. I am entirely dependent for what
I have to eat upon the mood of the bourgeois. Though P. Gareau is
keeper of the meat house, I am less dependent upon his humor, for the
reason that he orders his two wives to cook what he likes. If Mr.
Kipp has a good appetite he searches for the best of everything in
the storehouse and we live in luxurious abundance, such as one would
not dare expect in these wilds,

If, on the other hand, he is not well, he assumes at once that the
rest of us need no more to eat than he does. A short while ago we
were served a heavy soup with rice or beans, excellent rib roast, fresh
griddle cakes, buffalo tongue, and in addition cakes with dried peaches
or apples. Now, a sudden change of menu: cured meat and hard
crackers—so hard that in an attempt to bite one a man can easily
break his teeth. Nothing more.

August 23. Dorson and Beauchamp, of Fort Clarke, arrived here.
Those women killed at Fort Lookout were in reality Zephir’s wife
and daughter. For 30 years Zephir had lived happily with his wife.
Next autumn, when the Herantsa and Mandan are on the chase, the
Yanktonai will revenge that deed. They would find the present
their best chance to wreak vengeance, but even Sioux are afraid of
contagion.

Today has been the hottest of the entire summer. All the mosqui-
toes and flies in the village have come over here for what they can
find to nourish themselves. Neither by day nor by night do we get
any relief from mosquito choruses and mosquito bites; furthermore,
the pests bring with them the stench of the village slough.

Aged Indians and the sick are encamped in front of our fort in
tiny huts constructed of boughs and twigs. They make use of these
shelters at the same time for taking their vapor baths. They produce
steam by heating stones red hot in a great fire prepared in front of
the huts; then, having tightly closed the one they wish to use, they

carry the stones inside and pour water upon them. As soon as they
81634378

104 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

have converted the place into a sweating box at a high temperature,
the sick people (sometimes those in good health also take vapor
baths) crawl naked into the midst of the heat and steam; whereupon
a profuse perspiration ensues. This, Indians think, is highly con-
ducive to health. It appears to be their only treatment for cholera—
at least I have heard of no other remedy—and yet all their cholera
patients have not died.

At first, for want of other medicine, Mr. Kipp served out small
doses of whisky, but his supply was soon exhausted, for the reason
that he is so very fond of that remedy himself (greatly to his own
hurt, for he has had already the chance of two fortunes and of being
regarded a rich man in the States but has ruined himself by im-
moderate drinking).

Our surroundings have the appearance of a hospital—eight de-
crepit old women squat beside one another in the sunshine along by
the palisades, pick off the lice from their bodies, and eat with relish
the flesh of wild animals. The young sister-in-law of Quatre Ours
lies naked in a corner of the bastion, while her husband continually
goes to and fro, bringing her fresh water from the river; a blind
girl, convulsed with cramps, pounds her abdomen with her fists in
an effort to get rid of the dreadful pain. I met her today tottering
along the palisades toward the gate. Suddenly she sank to the
ground and I hurried forward to lift her up, wrap the buffalo robe
about her nude form, and carry her inside the fort. To me her body
seemed of too bright a color for “pure Indian.” If an old woman
dies, there is nobody to bury her except ourselves. We have already
sent two down the river in perforated skin boats—left there to go
to the bottom.

August 24. Another aged woman is dead; she starved herself to
death because she saw that she was a burden to her family. Though
she did not lack food, she refused obstinately to eat. This hospital
of ours, our fare of dried meat, and the mosquitoes prove too distaste-
ful to Dorson and Beauchamp; they intend to leave this morning.

Dorson, the bourgeois at Fort Clarke, is trying to get together here
the necessary tools for some building he wishes to do.

August 25. In their “patois” the Canadians use two queer expres-
sions I never heard before: “Jongler”, to waver between two propo-
sitions; “se tanner”, to labor hard for a thing.

August 26. Have made a sketch of the great place of sacrifice
dedicated to the sun and moon; a bepainted buffalo skull, set on the
summit of a small mound, is encircled by other skulls of buffaloes
and of enemies. In front of every skull a bit of white down is placed
onasmall stave. Beside the circle of skulls stand two posts to which
bearskins are hung. Fastened to the posts above are bundles of

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 105

fagots; above one of the bundles lies a fur cap to indicate the man,
while the other is to represent the woman—that is, the sun and the
moon. Made a sketch of the Indian catafalque or scaffold for the
dead.

Two young Indian women have taken up quarters with me to avoid
exposure to the weather; a violent, cold east wind is blowing. As
* night came on a heavy rain fell and the good women did not know
where they might find shelter, for they would not go to the village.
One of them is a sister of Mean Court Queue and the wife of Tete
Jaune, who left her and his boy here so that she could take care of
his mother—now dead. The other is the blind woman whom I have
mentioned already, a young wife deserted by her husband, since,
during this illness, she lost her eyesight.

I visited also the village, now deserted. Intrance to the huts was
barricaded. Saw the cask that is said to represent the Ark. Among
the clay huts stood a small blockhouse. The casklike structure (cor-
rectly represented by Prince Max von Neu Wied) was not found,
however, in the principal settlements but in a smaller one, probably
in the land of the Mandan, for the Herantsa tradition includes noth-
ing relating to the flood, consequently the presence of a simulated
Ark among them would be an incongruity.

August 28. This morning the sight of seven buffalo bulls on the
road leading to Fort Clarke relieved somewhat the monotony of our
existence at this hospital. With our telescope we could note their
age; they were, according to the current expression, “cayaks.” That
means they were thrust out by the young bulls and nevermore
allowed to approach any herd of cows. Such animals, excluded from
the herd, range in small groups by themselves; their flesh is not
used for food. Later in the day great droves of buffaloes appeared,
coming down to the river from the distant western hills. P. Gareau
and Bellangé mounted their horses forthwith to go in pursuit of
them. Mounted huntsmen followed with pack horses to bring back
the meat.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the river herds came continually
into view, emerging from glens and valleys and descending slopes on
their way to the river.

Having been left undisturbed for 2 weeks or more in this region,
they dared come within a short distance of the fort. At 4 o’clock
our hunters returned from the chase laden with meat. P. Gareau
shot a cow, Bellangé wounded a calf, which Gareau killed after it
had been driven about for a long while by Mr. Kipp’s small hunting
dog, Schika. Forthwith, on all sides, everybody began to roast meat;
after our recent scanty fare we found delicate, tender rib roast an
unrivaled dish; nothing could be better, we thought.

106 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

August 29. Today old Gagnon, of the opposition fort, came back
from a visit to the Arikara. He says eight people died there in one
night from the same disease that is prevalent here and called
cholera; the symptoms are violent cramps and vomiting, and usually
death results in a few hours. Gagnon was guilty of a mad act in
running his Arikara woman away from here to Fort Clarke; by so
doing he spread the contagion in the Arikara village. Dorson
thinks as I do, however, that cholera was brought in those bales of
goods that we opened. Perhaps he welcomed the occasion that Gag-
non’s arrival afforded him to throw blame on the opposition. Gag-
non had to make his escape by night when he realized the results of
his imprudent act. The Arikara have also abandoned their village
for the most part and are seeking another distant location.

I saw running about here today for the first time a young wolf
that an Indian youth drove out on the prairie last spring with a cord
tied tight at the end of his backbone to accustom the brute to pain.
The animal’s movements—now leaping about, now standing still, now
bounding away, now trying to squirm himself free—can give some
idea of the pain inflicted. Another was made to drag, in addition,
eleven buffalo skulls a mile over the prairie. Behind the fort stands
a queer sort of scaffoldlike contrivance from which, upon occasions
when sacrifices are offered to invoke good fortune on the hunt or in
war, men are suspended, tortured, and starved *1*; thus, young lads
are prepared by enforced endurance of pain and by deprivation for
bloody undertakings.

Toward sunset four buffalo bulls came out on the sandbank with
evident intention of crossing the river. As the river shore on this
side is high and steep they fell down several times while attempting
to ascend and sank deeper and deeper into the mire. While I was
amusing myself watching their floundering I heard a rifle shot.
Turning my head I saw an Indian on a dun-colored horse coming
toward me at a gallop; it was La Queue Rouge. His wife is dead,
his daughter is still sick, but this does not seem to have put him in a
particularly melancholy state of mind. The Herantsa have divided
their people into three bands and are said to have gone far north,
even as far as the Knife River and regions lying contiguous thereto.
The old people at the encampment on the river below us are said
to be in good health.

They were left there because they could not travel to the new
settlement on foot and the horses were needed for other purposes.
La Queue Rouge, while reloading his gun, told me about a “banneret”,
or young Indian, who, upon finding a group of wild cherry trees,
began to sing their funeral dirge, jeered at them as enemies, then—

81a This statement refers superficially to the rites of the Sun Dance.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 107

bang! he shot at them, and fell to eating cherries greedily, under the
impression that his “medicine” had robbed them of any harmful
effect. That same evening he was a corpse. Seventeen more have
died among the Herantsa since they went away.

August 30. As our sick people increase in number rather than
diminish, on account of the return of old women and little girls from
their camp on the river below us, my prospects for a longer stay at
this place do not improve. Therefore I went to the upper cornfield
to get a good view of the fort for a sketch and I finished the drawings
I had begun of the place of sacrifice and burial scaffold. If I could
only have studied buffaloes, stags, elk, and bears, I should not trouble
myself about the rest. For the present I have enough of the antique.

September 5. Fort Union.

I was obliged to flee 3 miles beyond the mouth of the Yellowstone;
perhaps I shall have to travel farther still—as far as I like.

Last Sunday—the Sabbath is not distinguished from week days
here by the ringing of church bells and the preaching of sermons
but merely as rest day for the engagees. Last Sunday I took Bel-
langé with me to the upper cornfields to shoot ducks among the
inundated willow bushes. Though for 6 hours we waded about in
the water, oftentimes up to our chests, in our efforts to steal upon
the ducks, he succeeded in killing only a pair. On the way Bellangé
came near shooting me. He was pushing through the thick willow
growth, just in front of me, when one barrel of his double-barreled
gun was accidentally discharged, the entire load just passing my left
ear. When we returned at 2 o’clock in the afternoon we heard bad
news from the settlements both above and below us. The Herantsa
are dying in great numbers; 50 deaths already estimated; a propor-
tion of 1 person in every 14. Seven hundred souls in 84 clay huts.
Some of them, they say, are in a rage about my presence here, be-
cause so many of their people are dying. Two “bannerets” have come
from the Arikara also and report an even worse condition there than
here. Arikara and Mandan are said to be dying like flies under the
first winter frost; those who survive swear that they will be revenged
on all whites. Dorson has closed his fort, so I am told. ‘The oppo-
sition is without fear, because they are the instigators. At eve-
ning Bellangé came to me and said that the “old man” had the inten-
tion to send him and me to Fort Union.

I was to remain there; he was to conduct me thither and at the
same time get a new supply of medicinal drugs and bring them back.
What he did not especially like was the necessity of making the
return journey alone. By land the distance, as the crow flies, is
about 170 miles; by the river route more than twice as far.

On Monday, September 1, therefore, everything was in readiness
to start in the evening on horseback with just as little luggage as

108 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

possible. As I was obliged to leave my boxes behind, together with
the goods I had brought in them, I began to exchange on the spot
or to barter on a credit whatever articles I was unable to take along
and yet could not leave packed for an indefinite time. At evening
we mounted our horses and bade our acquaintances heartfelt adieu.
I was of the opinion, however, that my departure was due less to con-
siderations for my own safety than to the desire to be rid of a
superfluous man, since the bourgeois could no longer consider taking
his journey. Moreover, Queue Rouge was greatly astonished when I
said good-by and gave him some tobacco as a farewell gift. Be-
sides, we were provided with the worst horses at the fort, which did
not by any means guarantee my safety. Our double-barreled guns,
heavily loaded, we laid across the saddle in front of us; we were well
provided with powder and shot—and each of us carried a scalping
knife which we stuck in our belts; my cloak, together with a sack con-
taining some changes of linen and a zine drinking cup, all fastened
to the back of the saddle, made up my total equipment.

In place of underwear, Bellangé carried our provisions, our coffee-
pot, and a blanket. So we rode across the prairie into the West,
cutting off the circuitous route of the Missouri. The first day we
saw nothing but prairie chickens, blackbirds,*? and, in the evening,
several shy antelopes. We camped at night beside a spring; tethered
our horses to tufts of tall grass. Except for the howling of wolves
and the chorus of mosquitoes, a deathlike silence reigned.

Before sunrise on Tuesday morning we saddled our horses and re-
sumed our journey, always riding at a slow trot. About 8 o’clock I
enjoyed my first prairie breakfast, cooked by a fire made of buffalo
chips. Bellangé forgot the meat, so we had only biscuits and hot
coffee. He consoled me by saying he had his gun, which would keep
us supplied with game. I allow myself to be easily comforted when
I am enjoying myself; when on an adventure and in happy mood I
disregard hunger. If our pads had been better travelers, the sense
of my romantic situation would have sustained me beyond any
specified limit.

Constant danger from lurking enemies, the vast prairie, bounded
only by sky and sea; buffaloes and bears in prospect; perhaps a
violent storm by way of variety; fine health and tense anticipation—
what more could I desire? Every dark spot amid the green might
be an Indian, a buffalo, an elk, or a bear ;°* any bright spot might be
a wolf, an antelope, or a deer. My glances wander everywhere; what
my eyes cannot distinguish my telescope brings within my range of
vision. I would not have exchanged this journey for the one I had

@Here blackbirds (Brewer’s Blackbird, Quiscalus breweri Aud.) take the place of
sparrows and finches.
3 Elks and bears are rarely seen in the vicinity of Fort Berthold,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 109

in mind to Salt Lake; there I should not have seen any fur-bearing
animals and not nearly so many Indians as at Fort Berthold. Nude
Indians, with their beautifully proportioned figures, their slender
yet well-formed limbs, their expressive eyes, their natural, easy bear-
ing—that is what I am seeking, and not the bepainted types well-
nigh overburdened with excessive decoration. We started our first
buffaloes on that day. Bellangé wished to be sure of having the
Knife River (Riviere aux Couteaux) behind us before the evening in
order to get out of the Gros Ventres’ district. So we had to cut across
the Big Bend ** (Grand Detour). Finally Bellangé found the trail
which our Indians had marked out with their tent poles. Traces of
a wandering band of Indians are essentially different from similar
trails left in the wake of white travelers, for the reason that the for-
mer have no wagons.

The tracks of a wagon and team make one road; the travois forms
three deep paths or furrows parallel with one another, that is, a
middie path along which the beasts of burden, whether horse or dog,
travel, and two outer paths furrowed by the tip ends of the carrying
poles. This trace we followed from the prairie down toward the river,
then for a time along the bank of the stream until we came again into
a plain. Near a “cut-off”, i. e., a lake (frequented at that time by
great numbers of pelicans) ,*° which was earlier the bed of a river that
had now taken another direction, we found skeleton twig huts, over
which the Herantsa had merely thrown blankets, and abandoned fires.
This was a trace somewhat too fresh for Bellangé’s comfort. He
began to fear for his skin. We left the trails, therefore, and, turning
from the river, we trotted off to a distant prairie surrounded by a
chain of hills. After a time my horse refused to trot longer, while
Le Vieux Blanc, a well-seasoned traveler, kept steadily his even gait.
So, in order that Bellangé and I might remain together while tra-
versing the wide stretch of country that we had yet to cross, I was
forced to urge my jade forward with a hazel rod. After we had
forded the Coquille at noon we dismounted and lay down for a little
while in the tall grass in order to stretch our legs and to allow our
_ horses to recover breath.

Our midday meal consisted of half a biscuit. We were in the
Herantsa’s own hunting ground. We dared not fire a shot or even
show ourselves too openly for fear of attracting unnecessarily an
attack from the so-called enemy. Besides, hostile Indians frequently
approach such places by stealth in order to number yet another
“coup.” We might, therefore, be in more peril of the Sioux than of
the Herantsa.

%4 A bend of the river 50 miles in length; direct route hardly 10 miles.
8 American white pelican, ?Peleconus americanus Aud,

110 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

As we were proceeding across the plain in a direction that cut off
the Big Bend I called Bellangé’s attention to a graceful cabribuck
(prong-horned antelope) that came trotting forward from a glade
and peered curiously about, without getting scent of us, because we
were traveling against the wind. Bellangé, bidding me be still,
slipped off his horse, took my double-barreled gun and aimed at the
fat animal, which had approached near enough to have been killed
with an ordinary pistol. When Bellangé fired the beast paid not the
least attention to the rifle shot, but trotted gracefully about us, still
without gaining any warning from the wind. Bellangé’s second shot
was aimed much too high; the buck, now alarmed, fled swiftly away
with prodigious leaps and bounds. Bellangé said, by way of excuse,
that, as a matter of course, for hitting an object at that distance the
gun was too heavily loaded. I did not think it necessary to inform
such an excellent huntsman as he represents himself to be that one
ean hit a mark whether distant or near with the same charge, accord-
ing as one takes high or low aim. As sportsman he has rather lost
my good opinion.

He is wont to console himself, moreover, with this saying, that
people applying derision to Canadians because among strangers they
speak in such exalted commendation of their country when there is,
after all, nothing to warrant such exaggeration :

Je suis du Canada (I am from Canada).

Je me font de ca (I am a part of it).

J’ai des pommes de terre (I have potatoes).

Pour passer Vhiverre! (enough to pass the winter).**

In the evening we had to climb the coteaux or hills near the Knife
River; they were so steep and so often intersected by deep-lying
brooks that we were forced to lead our horses. From these heights
we had a magnificent far-reaching view of a range of hills beyond the
Missouri, where the land swarmed with buffaloes. The sun was set-
ting as we waded the Knife River. We saw in the distance the for-
mer village that the Herantsa inhabited before they chose their
present abode near Fort Berthold, which, to say the least, is much
better situated for defense. On a high, steep river shore in a wide-
spreading plain they are much more secure from surprise attacks
than here in the midst of so many deep, narrow valleys. We reached
at length the high woodlands that are usually found along the banks
of the Missouri. We unharbored a herd of white-tail deer; they paid
no attention to the approaching horses until they saw quite near them
that most dangerous of all animals—man.

We selected a spot on the river bank for our camp in order to have
water and, in the second place, to get rid of the mosquitoes by means

85a The rendering of these French lines into English has been supplied by the editor.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ Talal

of the strong breeze that was almost continually blowing toward the
stream. A mug (tin pint cup) of coffee and a cracker (biscuit) was
all we had for our supper. In order to avoid attracting enemies,
either by firelight or smoke, we extinguished our campfire. But we
kept no watch; wrapped in our blankets we slept peacefully with our
saddles for pillows, while our nags, tethered with long halters
(lassos), were grazing. We had been in the saddle 16 hours that day.
As we were in constant danger while crossing this hunting district,
we mounted again before sunrise. We were deprived of much en-
joyment by the utter weariness of our horses; riding a lamed nag that
has to be constantly urged on with the aid of a rod and with digging
one’s shoe heels into the sides of the beast withdraws one’s attention
far too much from the beauty of one’s surroundings. On the other
hand, when one’s horse travels willingly without whip or spur, stamps
with impatience when told to stand, neighs and snorts when allowed
to run, one’s spirits become exuberant—one could shout for joy. Such
an animal I possessed in Savannah—my Bill. After having traveled
60 miles a day he would still be feeling his oats. My mares, though
more rapid travelers for short distances, it is true, and more easy in
their gait, for sustained endurance on long journeys could not com-
pare with Bill. To ride a sluggish horse is very much more fatiguing.

We found a piece of sole leather (parfléche) and a bow lying
beside it, evidence of Indians having but lately passed this spot, while
we imagined they were behind us. We camped for breakfast on the
Riviere Blanche. Afterwards we crossed a steep, rocky ridge of
hills that would have given an enemy thousands of opportunities to
eatch us unawares in an attack or to shoot us dead from ambush. We
saw cedar trees that had turned to stone—trunk and branch. How
very, very old they must have been! As we were descending these
hills and came into the skirts of a forest we saw great quantities of
fresh dung—in fact, we were evidently following quite close upon a

~ number of bison. Our rifles, always loaded, we put in position under

the left arm, so that we might bang at a buffalo the instant he
allowed us a glimpse of him within range of our guns. At length
we caught sight of several dark humps in motion directly before us,
but we were unable to bring our weary nags to a gallop. ‘The beasts
escaped; we could only make ourselves merry over the peculiar rolling
gait of the galloping buffalo bulls. At every step we were crossing
paths that had been traced by those animals from the hills to the
Missourl.

We traversed another range of hills that were peculiarly unlike
any other in one particular, i. e., red clay soil. From a distance they
had the appearance of brick-colored eminences. Entering a deep and
narrow ravine that opened upon the plain, we noticed three buffalo
steers quietly grazing about 200 feet ahead.

112 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

We dismounted at once. I held the horses in the ravine, standing
in the dried bed of a stream, while Bellangé crept forward to shoot a
buffalo. He took most deliberate aim before he fired, notwithstanding
that the beasts were standing perfectly still, grazing. Finally he
pulled the trigger, raising dust beneath the paunch of the bull
nearest him. The animal looked about him with surprise. Bellangé
fired again, this time frightening the buffaloes to the extent that they
flaunted their tails angrily and took to flight, but soon stopped again,
as they saw no one in pursuit. Not one of them was wounded.
Iexcellent marksman! With his own well-tested rifle he missed a
buffalo bull standing perfectly still at a distance of 100 feet; no
evasion would serve this time, and Bellangé was not a little abashed.
First shot was far below the mark; second shot much too high. After
a time, however, he did make a sort of excuse by saying that at this
season of the year the flesh of buffalo bulls was not fit for food.
“But surely,” I answered in scorn, “some parts of the animal are
eatable—the heart, the tongue.” We came in view of several very
large herds of cows encircled by their defenders, the bulls, and
followed by the old, worn-out, cast off members of the herd. At this
season the bulls fight, stamp, paw the ground, and bellow so loud
that they are heard quite a distance away. Oh, what I would have
given for a ride on one of the mares I owned in Savannah. Even my
little Fashion would have soon brought me near those grumbling
males.

All these herds, however great the numbers, fled the moment they
got wind of us, but we could not follow in pursuit. Furthermore, we
dared not stray too far from our course for fear of losing our way
and of fatiguing our weary nags too much. We found, however, a
cow recently killed, from which only the tongue and some of the ribs
had been cut—evident proof that hunters were living in abundance,
when they had cut from their quarry only choice bits and had even
neglected to take off the hide. As the animal seemed to have been
but lately killed—no vultures, ravens, or wolves in sight—I was
inclined to slice off a piece of fresh meat for supper. Considering
our scant traveling provisions thus far, I could not be blamed, if I
were sensible of my animal appetites and found the meat inviting.
But Bellangé pushed on further; Indians were in this vicinity; we
should be obliged, therefore, to leave the open plain, he said, and seek
out a more sheltered way through thickets and along the dry bed of
prairie brooks. As there were multitudes of wild animals here, it
was hardly possible that meat would be wanting for our evening
meal, etc.

So we rode on into grazing lands that extended farther than the
eye could reach and over the wide extent of which were scattered the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 113

dusky forms of bison, ranging in herds. This will give an idea of
the great numbers of these animals that, at an earlier period, roamed
the plains of Indiana and Illinois. All the droves we had met with
on that day were coming from the Missouri, whither they had gone
to quench their thirst; all prairie streams were dry. To my guide
the sight of buffaloes was nothing new; he was on the alert for
Indians, because he feared them. To me, on the contrary, those
immense herds were altogether novel and my keen pleasure in seeing
them made me heedless of any danger whatsoever. Besides, I was
in no hurry to reach Fort Union, was uncertain as to what condition
of things awaited me there; perhaps I should again be regarded a
superfluous guest. I was constantly wishing to stop and observe
more closely the motions and capers of the playful calves, how
the cows were cared for by their lovers, the bulls, and to study the
old stragglers, but Bellangé persisted in hastening forward, perpetu-
ally belabored Vieux Blanc, and called out to me peevishly not to
lag behind. My only thought was for the buffaloes on the prarie; I
was enjoying a sight, indeed, that I had wished a thousand times I
might behold!

Then, all of a sudden, we became aware of a herd coming swiftly
toward us over the crest of a hill in the direction of the river. We
simply could not resist running them.** Just as I was pressing on to
catch up with Bellangé and call his attention to the unusual speed
with which the animals were moving we both saw, at the same mo-
ment, a number of Indians on horseback galloping along the flank of
the fleeing herd. The leader caught sight of us, wheeled about, and
all the wild huntsmen disappeared at once behind the hill. The
buffaloes swept by. Another mounted Indian appeared at the hill’s
edge and turned about immediately when he saw us.

“They have discovered us! We are lost!” Bellangé exclaimed
anxiously.

You see, he had been apprehensive the entire day of our meeting
with some misfortune, because his left elbow had been constantly
itching. I counseled him to put his confidence in those balls of lead
that, in defiance of superstitious Indians, he wore around his neck as
talisman—his “medicine”; what is more, they were said to have been
consecrated by a priest to the purpose of preserving him from peril.
For my part, I relied more on my own courage and the double-
barreled shotgun. We were on an open, perfectly level prairie.

It was probably about 4 o’clock; the sunshine was glaring and hot.
The grass was not sufficiently high to make a surprise attack possible.
For my part, I was not at all concerned about danger—least of all

36 Buffaloes move slowly forward, always, when grazing. They lie down only to chew
their cud or to sleep; hence, they never remain long in one place.

114 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

from the Herantsa; and even though we were beset, has not danger
a part in every romantic adventure? Even love dissociated from risk
and hazard would lose the charm of romance. My guide now took
my telescope to spy out any suspicious signs of the Indians’ approach,
either openly or by stealth. The terrain to our left was distinctly to
our disadvantage: there was the Missouri, several miles distant, to
be sure, bordered with thickets and copses where the enemy might
conceal themselves and get the start of us or else keep watch upon
us, note what course we took, and take us unawares by night. At last
we neared a group of low hills which we had long seen through the
distant blue mists ahead and which Bellangé had mentioned as our
camping place for the night. In their vicinity, he said, was an old
house, where, at an earlier date, Mackenzie, clerk at Fort Union, had
traded with the Assiniboin. In fact we were now in the hunting
grounds of the latter tribe, which, I assumed, was all the better for
us; we had nothing more to fear from the sick and afflicted Herantsa,
and as for the Assiniboin they were friendly redskins whose language
Bellangé had learned from his wife.

We were just speaking of this and he was telling me how he had
first seen his Assiniboin wife at Fort Union, where he was employed
as engagee; how he had later bought her, a prisoner, from the Crows,
because at sight of him she wept for joy, etc. While talking together
in this way we came unexpectedly to a steep bluff and saw with
astonishment that two Indians were standing on the other side of a
small stream at its foot. We were still more surprised when they
waved their red blankets, a sign that we were to come over and join
them. And they called to us, “Maregna! Maregna!” (Friend.)
Bellangé answered: “Oui, oui, crapauds, pas cette fois ci.”*7 He
shouted to me that they were Sioux, who were on the watch at this
place for Gros Ventres; whereupon he whipped up his white horse
and off he went at a gallop. My mare wished to follow, but I was not
of the same mind. While I was forcibly holding her back my port-
iolio was wrested out of place and, as a result, sketchbook, paint box,
writing utensils, journal, everything, lay scattered on the ground.
Abandon my sketches and drawing materials—never! To dismount
and pick up the most important articles required only a moment, but
my portfolio was all awry, and I was obliged to keep hold of the
horse’s rein with the same hand with which I was holding my rifle.

So, finding that I could not get the sketchbook in, I thrust it under
lay arm, and my riding cloak, which had also fallen off, I threw
again across the saddle; whereupon the confounded jade sprang back,
jerked the rein out of my hand, and off she went at a gallop. “Ah, I
see now you can travel quite well”, I said, “Just wait!” The sketch-

87 Yes, yes. You toads! Not this time.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 115

book with my colors, brushes, drawing paper, compass, etc., all re-
stored, and the portfolio put properly in place, I threw my cloak
over my left arm, cocked the rifle, and, holding it with both hands
ready to attack, I awaited the “savages” that were now coming
speedily forward from different directions—all armed and riding
bareback. But instead of holding their hands to their mouths to
make the war cry resound, the leader called to me again, “Maregna!
Maregna!” Meanwhile Bellangé had seen my mare running around
loose and he came galloping back in order that he might share(?) my
danger. He found me surrounded by acquaintances of the Herantsa
Tribe with whom I was shaking hands and making much sport about
his having run away. While he was greeting, in his turn, Le Tete de
Loup and Le Tete de Boeuf, I tried to find the rest of my belongings
that were scattered about on the prairie. Some Indian lads rode after
my horse and brought her back. The Herantsa found our meeting
most edifying; not so Bellangé. He was exasperated with me be-
ause I had not followed him at once.

Now we must go with the Indians to their camp, “bon gre, mal
ere!” TI should see Tete de Loup was bent on mischief. All of us
rode together down the bluff and through the stream to the camp,
which consisted of a number of shelters built of twigs over which
blankets were thrown. We dismounted and sat down before the fire
in the circle of our red friends—or foes. Bellangé bade me keep my
gun in my hand; otherwise, I was lost. Several children, who knew
me and to whom I had frequently given sugar in my room, came
bounding forward and offered their hands in the friendliest man-
ner.** Though I did not believe we were running any risk, I laid
my gun across my lap. Then the Herantsa told how they had been
watching us for a long while, as we approached across the prairie,
and they laughed at us for the way we constantly looked about us;
called attention to my metal water flask that glistened so—it had
dazzled them at a great distance. It was plain that if they had had
evil designs they could very easily have put an end to us with an
arrow while totally unobserved themselves.

There could be no question, moreover, as to their chances of over-
taking our weary nags with their fresh runners on which they were
mounted to hunt buffaloes. We could only have concealed ourselves
in a dense coppice and have halted there, but we could not have
relied on that protection for any length of time. Herantsa knew
something of our weapons from an earlier time: Tete de Boeuf had
often admired the arrangement of my gunlock: a smaller hammer,

88Indians greet one another neither by shaking hands nor expressing good wishes.
Upon meeting, they talk together or give some sign, either by outery or by a movement
of the hand. Iowa say “hou’’ which white people in their neighborhood often imitate
instead of wishing one good day or good night. When an Indian offers the hand in
greeting, therefore, it is in imitation of our custom.

116 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

like the cover of the priming pan, covered the fuse, in order to pro-
tect it from dampness and at the same time to prevent any untimely
discharge. Well, the pipe was passed around, each of us taking
several whiffs. In the meantime Bellangé related to his friend Tete
de Boeuf, who always called the former’s wife “sister” in token of
the great friendship existing between the two families, that the pur-
pose of his journey to Fort Union was to take me there to stay; to
get medicinal drugs for “Ikipesche” (for Kipp; P. Gareau the
Herantsa called “Mi”, Stone, from his name Pierre) and to carry
them back on his return. He entreated him to do us no harm, for
I was much too fond of Indians to have any will to destroy them by
pestilence. He heard that some of them intended to put me to death
but he hoped to be treated as friend by the brother of his wife.
Tete de Boeuf answered, for his part, that they were on their way
to the Crows, to pay a visit to their relatives; that I had nothing at
all to fear from them, though they believed me to be “bad
medicine.”

Hereupon, the Indian women brought choice bits of fresh meats,
a great quantity of which was hanging out to be dried by the sun.
In return we gave them coffee to boil, and sugar with which to
sweeten it, so that all might have a share in our luxurious repast of
juicy, tender meat and sweetened coffee.

After the meal was over, although the two men invited us to spend
the night and ride the rest of the way to Fort Union with them,
Bellangé insisted upon pressing forward. He gave as excuse that he
was in haste, but he was really urged on by fear only. I cut for my
use a jolly goed willow switch with which to teach my mare how
to behave, for I was much provoked with her for running away from
me. Our friendly hosts gave us enough fresh meat to last several
days longer, and, just after sunset, we took our leave. Bellangé
conducted me to a beautiful spring 2 miles from this camp, where we
had near at hand clear, cool water and good pasture. After we
had secured the horses with long halters, we lay down to sleep, but
not before I made clear to my guide the disadvantageous situation
of the place he had chosen and warned him that if he did not really
trust the Herantsa he should not have selected that kettle-shaped
burrow.

Here we were virtually entombed in the midst of encircling heights
behind which the enemy could creep upon us, themselves unseen and
unheard, and shoot us dead. There was no longer any cause for fear,
he replied.*®

*® Bellangé was wholly contradictory with regard to our “danger.” He would not keep
watch at night; he fired his gun as opportunity presented itself, yet he forbade me to do
so, though every shot from his rifle was just as easily heard, of course, as from mine.
He was wanting in courage, bad humored, and much inclined to give himself airs.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 1D

The moon, shining gloriously in a clear sky, was mirrored in the
quiet water of the fountain spring. From far and wide came sub-
dued sounds of the bellowing and pawing of combative bulls. An old
“cayak” passed near the grazing horses, grumbling and shaking his
shaggy mane. How was it possible for a person to go to sleep?
The moonlight was so brilliant that I could read by it. I looked
into my portfolio to find out what articles I had lost; my seal, “fier
mais sensible,” a valued gift from my brother Louis (in Paris, 1838),
a small inkhorn from my friend, F. Studer, some percussion caps,
pencils, compositions on loose paper, and other trifles besides. Only
one pencil remained for my use during the remainder of my jour-
ney—not a comfortable state of things if Fort Union offered me
no better supply of paper and pencils than I found at Fort Berthold.

At last I, too, lay down, wrapped in the riding cloak I set so much
store by. Hardly had I fallen asleep when my mare sent forth a loud
neigh. As I looked up Bellangé said he had long ago heard talking.
“Those toads of Indians” (ces crapeaux de sauvages) “are following
us; the mare has the scent of their horses and is calling to them. I
hear distinctly the cracking of the boughs,” he said. The mare
neighed again, but the old white horse was silently grazing. Though
I heard nothing, I thought Bellangé was probably right, for my hear-
ing had been much affected during my service in the artillery at an
earlier time in my homeland. “Cayaks” continued to pass quite near
us, bellowing and lowing. Finally the moon went down; it was dark !
When the sky began to brighten in the east we saddled our nags,
mounted, and rode across the brook that flowed from our spring.
Then we heard the voice of someone behind us calling “Maregna”
again. Without halting we turned and saw on the height the shadowy
forms of Tete de Boeuf and his boys. He called for us to wait for
them; they wished to make the journey with us. But Bellangé re-
plied, “Adieu, barbarians!” We went swiftly forward, for our
clothes were damp and we were chilled by the night mists.

Thursday. The sun rose brilliantly upon a vast rolling prairie
over which innumerable buffalo herds were grazing. We came several
times quite near the fighting bulls, but in their rage they did not see
us; only ran away when they heard the report of a gun. Then, cov-
ered with dust and foam, they fled swiftly in the wake of the herd,
their tails lashing their flanks or else raised vertically aloft, as a
threat, most likely, that they were about to begin the struggle anew.
I should have thought that, under circumstances such as these, the
bulls at least would be inclined to stand at bay upon the approach of
men, but all of them fled from us.*° We found a little pond inhabited

4) On the prairie they escape the moment they get scent of human beings, unless the
herd is too large to evade hunters. It is only in narrow woodland paths that they try to
run over people or knock them down. However, if, on the hunt, a person comes in close

118 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

by a multitude of ducks. Here we dismounted, watered our horses,
looked about for buffalo chips—though we might search far and near,
we found not the slightest sign of wood or straw—and lighted a fire
to boil the last of our coffee. Moreover, we wished to fry the meat
that was given us, for it was not yet dry enough to be palatable un-
cooked. We found the taste of it by no means impaired by our having
used buffalo chips for fuel; on the contrary, we ate it with great
relish.

After breakfast we hurried on. Saw a great many antelopes and
wolves. Passing through a little valley, we noticed, as we rode by,
a young grizzly bear in his den and frightened him out. Bellangé
called him “Ours Jaune”, because his hair was yellow and he had a
bright ring about his neck. That is the color of one-year-old bears
only. This fellow ran from us, too, but we could easily have over-
taken him and peppered him with shot if, unfortunately, our horses
had not been such poor beasts. However, even though they had been
good travelers, to run our horses for such a purpose would not have
been wise, for opportunities to test their fleetness of foot were too
frequently tempting. For instance, as we were slowly climbing a
hill we noticed the dark hump of a buffalo moving along the edge
of the summit. He was a powerful fellow, and hardly 100 feet dis-
tant. Bellangé was now to have the final test of his marksmanship.
We stopped. I was eager to have a crack at this bison from my
horse’s back—his heart offered a near and sure aim. But Bellangé
sprang down, crept forward in order to get nearer him still—a bout
portant (with muzzle clapped to his breast). He fired. I could see
plainly where he wounded the animal’s shoulder. As the beast was
escaping I took aim and fired, just that I might say I had one shot
at a buffalo.

His movements showed that I hit at least his hinder parts. No
shot that missed the heart would kill. Bellangé had so badly ac-
quitted himself this time that I could not refrain from remark. In
retaliation he made some observation concerning my lack of skill in
horseback riding, because I was not able to keep up with his white
steed. I asked him whether his idea of horsemanship was to bruise
his beast with blows? After fording the Bourbeuse we came to a
prairie that was utterly barren; it was flat, rocky, and sterile. Not
an animal showed itself, not a bird was to be seen throughout the
entire extent of this plain, which to me seemed endless. Finally we
caught sight of hills again in the distance; behind them rose still
another ridge we should have to cross before we arrived at Fort

contact with a buffalo, the animal butts against his pursuer. Buffaloes never attack; a
bull defends himself valiantly against bears, but a cow has less courage. It appears odd
to me, therefore, that these beasts are not tamed. Our breeding bulls in the meadow
are much more fierce, and angrily attack strangers.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 119

Union. So I asked Bellangé whether we should not have done bet-
ter to spend the night on the Bourbeuse and allow our horses to rest.
He replied that he still hoped we might sleep at the fort that night,
for the region we were traveling through was very dangerous ground;
Blackfeet were said to be often roaming stealthily about, lying in
wait for Assiniboin who passed this way constantly, one by one, as
they went back and forth between the forts and their various settle-
ments. We had to make haste. I would have been glad to sleep one
night more in the open; the weather was so enticingly clear, and,
moreover, we still had some meat.

My guide became more timorous and more hurried the nearer we
came to Fort Union. He did not halt even at midday; therefore, in
order to allay thirst as well as hunger, I thrust a piece of half-cured
meat into my mouth to chew on. My arm was tired from administer-
ing blows upon the mare, but we had still 25 English miles to cover
oe reaching our decoction

Finally Bellangé, becoming more and more disquieted, nehtad to
exchange mounts w ith me. He bade me ride the white horse with all
the luggage, whereupon he whipped up the mare unmercifully and
away went the poor beast trotting with a limp. He laughed at
me, saying the only trouble was I was no horseman. In reply, I asked
whether it was his habit to ride with one stirrup shorter than the
other. He had not noticed that one stirrup strap was shorter by two
holes than the other; in consequence, I was forced to sit sidewise. In
order not to be delayed on that account I rode with my legs hanging
free. Now, our way led through plains that became constantly less
broad and were more frequently traversed by streams that had worn
a deep bed, to be sure, but at that time contained little water. On
our right there were always hills; on our left flowed the Missouri.
Iivening came on apace; to me it seemed no longer possible to reach
the fort that day. At length we came to a prairie at the verge of
which Bellangé pointed out a bright spot.

With my telescope I discerned a white bastion. That was Fort
William, trading post of the opposition. Five miles farther, 3 miles
above the miguth of the Yellowstone River, lay Fort Union. Bel-
langé smacked with his tongue and licked his lips. The reason for
Ohic) was his anticipation of a drink when he delivered a letter he
carried from Schmidt to Joe Picotte, bourgeois at Fort William.
nephew of our Mr. Picotte, but employed by the opposition company.
The letter and my close acquaintance with Joe gave Bellangé hopes
of getting a dram. Soon we came upon the track of a wheel. We
were at Fort William. Roulette, clerk and interpreter, received us,
took possession of the letter, thanked us in behalf of his bourgeois,
who at the moment was on the river fishing. Without dismounting

81634379

120 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

we continued our way along a good smooth road to our fort. The
sun went down and a golden shimmering light spread over the land-
scape. Soon the stockade was visible and the white bastions, over
which appeared the top of a tall flagstaff, that stood within the court-
yard. At length we rode up to the gate. Bellangé was immediately
surrounded by his many acquaintances. I was most heartily glad to
stand once more on my own legs.

Bellangé delivered the letter he brought to a small, hard-featured
man wearing a straw hat, the brim of which was turned up in the
back.

He was my new bourgeois, Mr. Denig. He impressed me as a
rather prosy fellow. He stopped Bellangé short, just as the latter
was beginning a long story he wished to tell; on the other hand, he
ordered supper delayed on our account that we might have a better
and more plentiful meal. A bell summoned me to the first table
with Mr. Denig and the clerks. My eyes almost ran over with
tears! There was chocolate, milk, butter, omelet, fresh meat, hot
bread—what a magnificent ntieel MN cheesy my opinion at once
concerning this new chief; a hard, niggardly person could not have
reconciled himself to such a hospitable reception in behalf of a
subordinate who was a total stranger to him. After we had eaten
he apologized for not having a bed in readiness for me; that night
I must content myself with buffalo robes in the interpreter’s room;
better arrangements would be made next day.

The inside of the room presented an appearance rather like an
Indian’s habitation. On the floor near me were three beds for
three couples of half-Indians and their full-blooded wives—visiting
“barbarians.” The wife of Spagnole, the horse guard, was a Man-
dan; Smith’s wife was a Cree; and Cadotte’s ** an Assiniboin.

The last two men had been obliged to accompany as guides the
transport of goods to Fort Benton in the territory of the Blackfeet
and had not yet returned. In spite of this promiscuous company
I slept quite well. I dreamed of milk, for the reason, I presume,
that I had been so long deprived of it; for, until that evening, I
had not even tasted milk since I left Belle Vue. No cows were kept
at Fort Berthold on account of the cornfields; the law prevailing
there gives Indian women the right to kill any animal that strays
into their fields. Once I saw a splendid 2-year-old colt half killed
by an Indian woman because it had escaped from its keeper and
was bustling about in the midst of the growing corn. There is no
Indian village near the fort. The Assiniboin are roving hunters
without fixed abode. The tribe is separated into various bands that

41 Both hunters were Cree half-brecds and at that time absent.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 121

live apart from one another, for the reason that a great number of
people move slowly from place to place and find greater difficulty,
moreover, in providing sufficient food.

That night, after supper, Joe Dolores, the horse guard, played
the leading role in a comic action: He galloped up to the gate
shouting: “Blackfeet! Blackfeet!” R. Mack and Pattneau swung
themselves at once upon the backs of their respective runners in
order to corral the grazing horses and assist in defending the fort.

Everybody was keen to help. Blackfeet were reported to be sneak-
ing secretly about the garden coulee (dry gully). With great trouble
the men got all the horses together just as a man emerged from the
spot where the enemy was suspected to be in hiding. Who should it
be but our negro, Auguste! He had been looking for berries, simply
as a means of diversion. Joe was so ridiculed that he took refuge
in flight.

This morning, after breakfast, the room in which I am now writ-
ing was put in order for me and furnished with bedstead, two chairs,
and a large table. Here I am alone, the more agreeable arrange-
ment always for me. I do not find company a necessity. I have
always something at hand with which to occupy myself, so I am not
lonely, though I may be alone. What is more, Mr. Denig has found
some work at once for me to do. He has here, for instance, many oil
colors (neither very good nor complete) with which I am to paint,
first of all, the front of the house, and then I am to decorate the
reception room with pictures. At the same time I shall not fail to
execute a life-size portrait of himself that is to hang in the office
where it will strike the Indians with awe. All this work is to be
done before Mr. Culbertson returns from Fort Laramie, because
Mr. Denig wishes to prepare a pleasant surprise for his chief and,
furthermore, because he expects that Mr. Culbertson will take me to
Fort Benton.

All colors, crude or ground, were searched for in the principal
building, in the warehouse, in garret and cellar; a marble slab with a
grinder was put on a special table, five measures of oil were pro-
cured, and all spare shaving brushes were collected, in order that
the painting may begin tomorrow. ‘Today I am still free to do as
I like. I employ the time writing.

A young grizzly bear and a war eagle, both alive, are confined be-
hind the powder house. A number of Indian trinkets are displayed
in the reception room and there are, besides, a stuffed Rocky Moun-
tain sheep (female bighorn), black-tailed deer, large white owl,
prairie hens, and pheasants, all of which will afford me, meanwhile,
sufficient models for sketches and studies.

122 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

September 6. Before breakfast Bellangé began his return journey
to Fort Berthold. Denig was provoked with him because he had
to leave two good-for-nothing nags here, and wished to have in ex-
change a thoroughly good traveler. He received, however, a pack
horse with the notification that his commission had been executed.
Bellangé wished very much to be allowed to take my telescope with
him, but I could not spare it; I must give him something later, at all
events, as a return for the fear he endured.

This entire day I have been painting, with the assistance of two
clerks, Owen Mackenzie and Packinaud,** the balcony and reception
room; besides, I have ground some colors.

September 15. Morgan has gone again to the “Chantier,” a place
in the forest up the river where workmen and laborers under his
direction are getting beams ready for the palisades.**

He was only on a visit here; therefore was lodged in my room. Now
I am again in quiet possession. Last week I worked hard: ground
colors and painted the pickets in front of the house. Mr. Denig
expressed the wish that I paint also a sideboard in the mess hall; it
was not sufficiently glary when finished, so he decided to improve
its appearance himself. As paint of that sort is an abhorrence to me,
T praised his work highly in order to be rid of it once for all. But
I was interested in painting the entire outside of the house to his
satisfaction, for in his relations with me he is most kind and agree-
able. Every evening he sits with me, either in my room or in front
of the gate, and relates experiences of his earlier life. As he has held
his position in this locality for 19 years already, his life has been full
of adventure with Indians, particularly since the advent of the
whisky flask. He wishes me to paint also a portrait of himself and
his dog, Natoh (bear), a commission I am very glad to execute. In
return he promises, in the interest of my work, to enable me to have
the best opportunities for studying wild animals. Now that I have
found out what I need to know about Indians, I would lke to vary
my investigations by making just as thorough a study of wild ani-
mals. My plan is, not to write a book on the history, religion, and
customs of the Indian race, but rather to depict the romantic life of
Indians, either in oil paintings (my gallery) or in prints; therefore
I find it necessary to study animals of the chase, although, as a matter
of course, that is by no means my chief purpose.

y)

42 He was called Packinaud, which is said not to be his real name; as he can neither
read nor write he is himself not sure.

43 The palisades of this fort are not driven into the ground, as in Fort Berthold, but are
fitted into heavy beams that rest upon a foundation of limestone. At this place palisades
are further secured by supports of crossed beams on the inside, so that they cannot be
blown down by the wind. Nevertheless, it happened once during my stay that on the
western side, where the supports were badly decayed, a violent wind did force them
down before the new beams were ready.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 123

My recent transfer to this post I may regard as the most fortunate
event of my life in this country. I am indebted to Herantsa super-
stition for my removal from a most unpleasant situation; for a highly
interesting journey to this place, where I find congenial surround-
ings, and where I can make myself useful and not be regarded as the
fifth wheel of a wagon. As to the personality of my new bourgeois,
who was represented at the fort below as being a disagreeable person,
I find myself most pleasantly surprised. Kipp is a man approaching
old age who is forced by necessity to begin life anew for the reason
that he has lost a good fortune on account of his addiction to strong
drink. This makes him unhappy, dissatisfied with himself, and
morose. Denig, his former clerk, has, on the contrary, come rapidly
forward, owing to his commercial knowledge, his shrewdness, and his
courage at the posts where he was earlier employed; therefore he has
aroused the jealousy of his former chief, whom he now disregards.
Fort Berthold, which is really under control of Fort Pierre, is not a
trading post of much consequence; trade is carried on with only one
tribe: and, moreover, business is done, for the most part, on credit,
which frequently results in loss.

Here, on the other hand, Assiniboin, Crows, Cree, and half-breeds
do their trading; and, besides, Fort Union is the depot or storage
house for the more distant posts, Fort Benton and Fort Alexander.

It goes without saying that a bourgeois who occupies the position
of responsible warden, chief tradesman, and person in highest au-
thority at a trading post far removed, where he has fifty men under
his direction, may regard himself of more importance than a man who
directs five men. ‘To conduct such a post as this requires more ability.
In winter there are established from three to four byposts. More-
over, in this region where there is neither the rule of law nor an
established police force, it 1s necessary for one to know these en-
gagees in order to understand the difficulties in managing them.
They are workmen employed by the year; they represent all nationali-
ties—Canadians, Americans, Scotchmen, Germans, Swiss, Frenchmen,
Italians, Creoles, Spaniards, Mulattoes, Negroes, and half-Indians,
and come, for the most part, from St. Louis, where they have found
no means of earning a livelihood. Canadians are in the majority;
but these men are not to be mistaken for those commendable sailors
mentioned earlier, the “Coureurs de bois”, who were fitted for their
employment under the strict discipline of the Hudson Bay Company.

The men here are called “Mangeurs de lard” because their chief
occupation is the eating of pork. According to their talk, there are
no workmen more capable, but when it comes to work they are neither
industrious nor skilled. To make such people work, when one has
no recourse to police control or to any outside assistance, is no small

124 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

matter; one has to manage them with ability, courage, and tact. The
more capable among these engagees advance immediately to better
positions; if they are really skilled craftsmen they are employed as
such, their wages doubled and better board and lodging provided;
on the other hand, if they are qualified in the mercantile line or in
languages and prove to be honest and shrewd, they are advanced
to clerks, bourgeois, or agents. In this region every man works up
from a lower position, for many years’ experience among Indians—
to become familiar with the Indian character, habits, and tongue—
is required at the more important trading posts. One has not much
respect for the ordinary engagee; one has to be constantly at hand
when he is assigned work, for he takes no interest in the success of the
fur trading company, and runs away upon the least suspicion of
danger.**

As a matter of course, Denig keeps the subordinate workmen
strictly under his thumb; what is more, he has to if he is to prevent
their overreaching him. He feels, however, that one man alone is
not sufficient to enforce good order among these underlings, for every
one of them is armed and, though not courageous in general, are,
nevertheless, touchy and revengeful. So for purposes of order and
protection he has attached to himself the clerks, who stand more
nearly on the same level with him in birth and education and afford,
besides, the only support, moral as well as physical, upon which he
can reckon. In his turn he provides just as willingly some diversion
for all of them when they have performed services satisfactory to
him; on the other hand, he limits their victuals when they are idle
or lazy. For instance, last week under Morgan’s direction a supply
of hay for next winter was mowed 9 miles from here and piled up
in “stacks” (conical heaps) ; nearly 15,000 pounds of cured meat was
purchased at an Assiniboin camp and both clerks have returned with
their men and teams. Today they had another laborious and difhi-
cult task, i. e., the felling of trees and the preparing of lumber for
palisades at the fort.

On Saturday evening, therefore, Denig gave a ball, to which he
invited also Joe Picotte, his family, and the people who work with
him. We decorated the room as brilliantly as we could with mirrors,
candies, precious fur skins, and Indian ornaments. He himself had
the hardest work of all, because he was the only fiddler and did not
stop until everybody had tired himself out with dancing.

44Qur Smith (Gagnon) and Zimmermann gave us, more than once, evidences of their
spirit ; both were thrifty fellows and tried to earn some dollars extra as trappers. One
evening in winter they went together into a nearby thicket to set traps for wolves or
foxes. One of them saw, in the distance, a person descending a hill; immediately he
abandoned both friend and trap and ran breathless to us, crying “Indians! Indians!”
The approaching foe proved to be merely an Indian woman accompanied by her dog!

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 125

Indian women and men were dressed according to European mode.
From my point of view, the ball on that account lost much of its
character and the picturesque interest that one might have antici-
pated in this region and under these conditions. Only the spec-
tators, who were in Indian costumes, gave one to understand in what
part of the country the dance was taking place. The cotillion, which
the squaws went through with much grace and far more correctness
than I should have expected, seemed to be the favorite dance.

Indian women manifest the same preference for dancing, however,

“that is common among our white women, and most of them have had

much practice in the art with their white husbands. Figures of the
cotillion represent what is most pleasing to me, in general, in the way
of a dance; to me, the waltz seems nonsense; it corresponds in no way
to the purposes of dancing, i. e., developing a graceful body, supple-
ness, and ease of manner. As I do not dance myself, I beat the
tattoo on the drum.

It is odd, yet worthy of note, that just such engagees, clerks, and
even bourgeois, upon their return to the States or when they go back
there on visits, cannot have enough of distinguishing themselves as
“Mountaineers”, of attracting attention in their highly ornamented
buckskin clothes, of performing Indian dances and imitating Indian
war cries, in order that they may be regarded as the hardy, fearless,
jovial “Mountaineers”, a name synonymous with famous huntsmen,
distinguished warriors, bold and crafty trappers such as are described
in books. While they take pleasure in making themselves conspicuous
among their white brothers as savages, they try to make a forcible
impression upon their red brothers here as white men. He knows—
at least, the usual engagee knows—that he is unable to do this except
in the matter of clothes, which the poor Indian cannot get, for the
former has none of those qualities one ascribes to the “Mountaineer”,
while, on the other hand, the Indian possesses them all in a high
degree.

I must mention here that, since beaver pelts have fallen in price,
that far-famed class of trappers is almost nonexistent. Throughout
the entire territory of Blackfeet, Crows, Assiniboin, Cree, Chippewa,
Herantsa, Arikara, Dakota, the trappers are no longer found at all.

Beaver skins used to be their principal branch of industry; other
pelts, like ermine, fox, muskrat, otter, and Alpine hare, are either too
rarely obtained or else not sufficiently profitable to justify risking so
many dangers. The risks, deprivations, and adventures of trappers
have been enough related by storytellers and most excellent authors.
The same fault is committed, however, almost universally: They treat
the Indians, the rightful owners of these lands and of all beasts of
the chase, the redskins’ only source of food found therein, as robbers

126 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

and murderers if they defend their property against hunters who are
not entitled to poach there. On what authority do huntsmen and
lovers of the chase base their right to follow that sport in Indian ter-
ritory, to rob Indians of their only means of providing food and
clothing? Do they first ask permission? Not at all! But if the Red
Men make reprisals, either by cunning or force, then there is raised
an outcry, both excessive and unjustified. So it comes about that
writers who relate those stories treat first one nation and then the
other as arrant knaves, as the meanest plunderers, just as they have
frequently shown themselves to be among the Pawnee and the Crows.*
Is that just? Moreover, the same can be said concerning the behavior
of the emigrants.

In many cases they could make necessity their excuse, it is true, but
the greater number of animals they killed not from necessity but
merely from love of sport. If, then, the right of the strong hand is
to prevail, let the same right be granted the Indians, and with what-
ever measure one metes, let it be measured to the other. Indians de-
fend their domain as it is distributed among the nations according
to fixed boundaries, and they maintain their supply of food, their ex-
istence, as well as they can. Are not the fruits of the field, the grazing
herds, even the beasts of chase, protected in civilized states by laws?
Furthermore, is it not lawful in many Christian countries for the
owner of land to fire upon a trespasser ?

In return for Mr. Denig’s kind invitation, Joe Picotte invited us
to his fort the next day (yesterday). As I can neither dance nor play
any musical instrument, I looked forward to the visit with little
pleasure; especially as I am just now occupied with ideas other than
amorous adventures. I would much rather have spent Sunday study-
ing the young bear than to have gone to a party at 10 o’clock in the
morning, but Joe Picotte seemed so much pleased to see me again, I
thought mere courtesy required me to go.

Besides, though I was well acquainted with him in St. Joseph, I
had perceived already on the Robert Campbell that he did not like
seeing me with an opposition company. At about 11 o’clock at night
we returned from the ball as merry as it is possible for people to be
who have indulged in such gaiety without the enlivening effects of
love and wine. The ride home in brilliant moonlight was splendid,
a real delight. Morgan, firing off his pistols, rode in front with his
dogs. Mackenzie on Toku, his superb courser, whose plunging and
rearing as well as the great speed at which the spirited animal gal-
loped home, made Mac’s wife, riding behind, anxiously clasp him
round! Denig’s younger wife, riding a pony with Smith’s wife, fol-
lowed with me. I was mounted on a pony belonging to Denig’s older
wife, who expressed a wish to drive back. The two women were con-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 127

stantly trying to tempt me to run a race with them and see which
could first reach the vanguard. They would remain behind a moment,
then shout “Oppaheh! Oppaheh!” to me, whip up the pony, and
away they would go. Behind us came the two-wheeled cart, drawn
by two mules, carrying the bourgeois and his family and the musical
instruments. Pattneau, astride the gray, brought up the rear.

Today Joe Picotte came over to ask how we had passed the night.
At the moment I was engaged in no duties; so Mr. Denig said I might
paint a portrait of Joe in water color. I immediately set about it.
It seems strange to me now that I used to find it so difficult to get a
good likeness when I attempted a portrait: my attention was so
much engrossed with outlines and gradation of colors that I lost the
expression of the sitter. I could not see the wood for the trees. The
same difficulty befell me in the study of composition: I had always
had rather too much imagination than too little, but if I tried to
embody an idea in a sketch I took such pains to draw the forms cor-
rectly, either people or animals, or to give them proper positions or
movements, that, in my effort to perfect the execution of my work, I
lost the idea. A painter dares not give his attention so exclusively
to technique that he fails in the expression of spiritual qualities. He
must be so practiced in drawing that he can embody his conceptions
on canvas with as much ease as the poet expresses his thoughts in
writing by means of words. With outlines the painter reproduces a
likeness or conveys his idea in composition, and no matter how often
he may erase the lines in the execution of his sketch, he will easily
recover them, for the salient features that convey the true character
of his subject are, to him, far more important than perfection of line
and color.

If he excel in the latter only, without being able to portray life
truly, he produces pictures that are lifeless; if he excel in the former
alone, even though he produces but caricatures he will give expres-
sion to that which is truly alive. To grasp the true meaning of his
subject and to portray that conception with ease and charm bespeaks
the master. If I shall be able to paint a portrait without sittings,
merely from observation, I shall be content. But to succeed in doing
that a physiognomy must make such an unusual appeal as to put me
in a particularly fine mood.

I received today, as a gift from Mr. Denig, a [buffalo] cow’s hide
most excellently prepared and decorated. The hair is as fine as
silk; the under side like velvet. Across the middle of it runs a
broad band, decorated with beads, porcupine quills, and tiny bells
that hang from rosettes. He got it from the Crows. Though it is
so smooth, I found it impossible to adorn it further with fine draw-
ings, still less with drawings on a large scale; so I shall not be able
to paint my robe after my own style, Mr. Denig says.

128 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 115

In return for the portrait Mr. Picotte promises me something rare
in Indian design. He possesses elk horns ** of remarkable size and
attached to the skull. If I could get such a pair I should have quite
an addition to my collection.

Since I came here I seem to be at perfect peace with myself. In the
first place, I am quite unexpectedly so much nearer the accomplish-
ment of my life purpose that I have little more to worry about. My
youthful dream of journeyings in strange lands, of horses, Indian
women, and collections of Indian rarities I have enjoyed in reality.

If I can spend my later life in the painting of pictures that portray
the American Indian, if time and strength remain to me until I have
realized my ideal, then my cherished aims will have been fulfilled.
In truth, I do not desire to create perfect human forms for the sake
of attaining fame, but merely to satisfy an impulse from within, a
longing for pure beauty. It is therefore a matter of indifference
whether I succeed in the fulfillment of my purposes before the end
of my life. Unfortunately an artist rarely receives his true valua-
tion until after he is dead. Then it may be his works are bought at
colossal prices, while during his life, perhaps, he has suffered want.
Who knows whether he may not have lived in penury! Are we to call
those people who pay enormous sums for paintings by deceased
artists, but who, ignorant of the true value of master works, allow
equally gifted contemporary artists to starve—are we to call such
people patrons of art? They are votaries of fashion, neither con-
noisseurs nor patrons of art.

September 16. There was a downpour of rain the entire day; in
consequence, no work out-of-doors. I spent the time sketching the
head attire of a Cree chieftain captured by Blackfeet. This Cree
partisan and eight of his braves were attacked by a superior force
of Blackfeet, and when the former saw that they were going to be
overtaken they quickly dug a hole with their hands and knives in
the side of a low hill.**

45The difference in the size of elk horns is so considerable that I attributed the smaller
pair of horns on our bastion to a smaller species. The hunters maintain, on the contrary,
that they were taken from young elks whose antlers up to a certain age have only a given
number of tines, and afterwards increase both in weight and size.

4#6In his Account of a Voyage up the Mississippi to Its Source, Lieutenant Pike gives a
more detailed description of such a dugout: “Mr. Frazier showed me, on this prairie,
holes dug by the Sioux when in expectation of an attack, in which they first put their
women and children, and afterwards crawl themselves. These holes are generally round
and about 10 feet in diameter; but some are half moons, and quite a breastwork.” The
moment the Indians “apprehend or discover an enemy, they commence digging with their
knives, tomahawks, and a wooden ladle; and in an incredibly short space of time will
make a hole sufficiently deep to secure themselves and family from the balls or arrows of
the enemy. They have no idea of taking these subterranean redoubts by storm, as many
men might be lost in the attack, which, even if successful, would be considered an
imprudent act.” He saw, later on, when examining huts that had been abandoned by
Chippewa, similar entrenchments with boughs lying by, in readiness to cover them
(whether as abattis or to protect their bodies is a question).

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 129

That was their only means of shielding themselves. All died
valiantly, fighting to their last breath. The chief’s headgear is esti-
mated to be worth as much as a pack horse; therefore, not being in a
position to purchase it, I content myself with making a true copy.
My funds are spent; my merchandise has been disposed of; my credit
with the company is good only for wearing apparel. “ At this place
the cost of necessaries is very high—out of proportion to the increase
one might expect on account of the distance things have to be trans-
ported. The price of coffee is 100 cents a pound; brown sugar, the
same; meal costs 25 cents a pound; seven ship biscuits cost 100 cents;
one pound of soap costs the same; calico is 100 cents a yard; to
get one shirt washed costs 25 cents, etc. On an average, prices are
nine times as dear as in the States.*7 If I had bartered my wares at
such prices at Fort Berthold, I should have done a better business than
I could have managed with cash. The value of a dollar is insignifi-
cant; what one receives for it is of no consequence. Even in the
States 20 cents is not worth reckoning. In the Western States there
is no smaller coin than a 5-cent piece.

And if I lose the collection, what benefit do I derive? Since I lost
such old and valuable memorials upon the occasion of that great
scare on the part of the Herantsa, I trust fortune less, if that is possi-
ble, than I did earlier. Have I ever had any good fortune? How
have I arrived at my goal?

By overcoming a whole series of misfortunes, by struggling on in
spite of disappointments. For lack of money I had to leave Paris
and go back to Berne; owing to the death of old Fellenberg I failed
to get a pleasant position as instructor in his famous institute;
failing to sell my paintings, I became convinced that a man could
not earn his livelihood as artist in Berne, not in all Switzerland,
where political affairs absorb all man’s faculties, all expedients, all
lofty thoughts; where one looks upon art as luxury, for the simple
reason that one has no taste for it. But for bilious fever I should
be still in St. Joseph; but for bad luck with my horses I should
be now in Savannah or in Deseret; but for cholera I should be still
at Fort Berthold. I shall be obliged to leave this post, because I am
superfluous here. That is my good fortune! Notwithstanding, I
shall be consoled, in spite of all these adversities, if, in the future, I
get a comfortable income from my Indian pictures, either by editing
a work on that subject or by the sale of my paintings.

If I were a fatalist I should be forced to the conclusion that I was
predestined to produce a collection of picturesque scenes in what was
formerly called the Far West—my studies have taken a direction
so completely unforeseen.

47 He was in the Territories then.

130 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

By means of my exhibitions, I may be able to contribute my small
share in the cultivation of people’s taste and in the advance of science.
My chief purpose was to study the antique from life. For the reason
that persons who are accustomed to being nude assume postures dif-
ferent from those who are habitually clothed, I had to come to Amer-
ica in quest of Indians who could serve me as models. For
preliminary studies, academic models served well enough.

September 17. Worked at painting the house this morning. Began
a pen sketch of the house this afternoon for Mr. Denig. A band of
Assiniboin came from their settlement on horseback, bringing dried
buffalo meat for sale. They were invited to partake of sweetened
coffee, which must now replace the whisky that used to be served.
Mr. Denig thinks a portrait worthless unless the eyes follow a person
who gazes upon it, no matter on which side the beholder stands;
furthermore, a portrait must be drawn life-size and painted in oil,
he says—otherwise it is of no value as a true representation. A water-
color, it appears, has no worth.

Mr. Denig came up the river in the same year in which the Baron
von Barneburg, alias Prince von Neu Wied, came; then it was that
he and Mr. Culbertson arrived in this region for the first time.

I have several anecdotes from them concerning the Prince and my
friend Bodmer; also in connection with Catlin. This last-named
painter is regarded here as a humbug. He is said to have compro-
mised the gentlemen who were then at Fort Pierre with a book of
stories that they had written. Catlin took the steamer only as far as
this point, went back on the same boat to Fort Pierre, where he re-
mained three months and painted pictures of the Indians. Could
never paint at all unless he were perfectly comfortable with easel,
camp stool, etc. During the three months at Fort Pierre he requested
the bourgeois and clerks to put down in a book, over their own sig-
natures, accounts of interesting moments spent in that region. Many
of them related their adventures in the Indian territory as he had
asked them to do. Later on, so it seems, he published the book, re-
taining the names of the writers, but greatly distorting the narratives
for the sake of effect, i. e., to make as tense as possible the interest of
the reader. I had heard Mr. Kipp complain of Catlin. Though the
painter knew hardly a word of the Sioux language, he is reported to
have given lectures in New York on that subject. Yankee humbug!
Since writing the above I have read the book myself. With the ex-
ception of several instances where the author talks big, the book con-
tains a great deal that is true. The drawings, on the other hand, are
for the most part in bad taste, and to a high degree inexact, especially
the buffaloes. Indians never go on the hunt arrayed as if for war.
That scene where wolves surround the dying bull is a silly make-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 131

believe; that one of the Indian vaulting upon a single bull is another.
(The latter may possibly occur in a thickly crowded herd, when the
hunter is hemmed in on both sides.) His buffalo herds, moreover,
consist of nothing but bulls—no cows and calves. Bodmer makes the
same mistake. What astonishes one in Catlin’s sketches, particularly
in the English originals, is that the faces are grotesque; what is more,
they are faces of the same Indians whom he extols constantly, and
justly, in the text for possessing the rare beauty of the antique.

He is said to have sold certain paintings of Indians to the United
States Government with the understanding that no copies would be
made; but, far from keeping his word, he copied them in secret before
they were delivered and exhibited them later in London.

Mr. Murray, former English envoy here in Berne, told me he had
procured from Catlin in St. Louis the means to make the voyage up
the Missouri. Mr. Murray is the author of the interesting novel
Prairiebird, a later edition of which, in another form, is called The >
Trapper’s Bride. He took much interest also in my sketches of Indian
life.

September 19. I had a most interesting ride to the little or upper
Bourbeuse and back again. Yesterday, after our midday meal (here
we eat at least three times each day), the bourgeois sent me with
Carafel on a horseback ride to the little stream mentioned above, in
order that I might have a chance to see my comrade set his beaver
traps. Carafel is a skilled beaver trapper, an occupation that re-
quires much patience and cunning. A ride of 10 miles over prairie,
steep slopes, and many rivulets brought us to the upper Bourbeuse,
where we saw several beaver dams.

While I made a drawing of the one most solid and complete, my
companion, with the least possible noise, laid three traps nearby in
the water and baited them with castoreum that he carried in a small
horn. We took a farther ride about that neighborhood later with
the hope of coming upon some buffaloes. Our horses were not pre-
pared for a run; Carafel was riding my former mount, Vieux Blanc.
Though “Old White” is no racer, he is nevertheless a most useful
animal; he has no bad faults; he is capable of great endurance, and
can be left standing untied at any place where he finds forage. As the
few buffaloes that we could find were too far away, we went in search
of a comfortable place where we could camp for the night. We found
just such a place in high grass between two beautiful ash trees. I
went immediately to work on a drawing of that spot, while Carafel
lighted a fire and made tea. There were mosquitoes, to be sure, in
great numbers, but we enjoyed our mea! in merry mood, just as well-
proved hunters and trappers are wont to do, because they are content
with little and blessed with good appetites. While our horses grazed

182 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

nearby we chatted together until it was dark, then wrapped ourselves
up and went to sleep, dreaming the dreams of lucky mortals. We ate
breakfast this morning at our camping place, saddled the horses,
took a drink, mounted, and rode again to the stream where the traps
were set.

I finished some sketches, but we caught no beavers; they are too
sly, having been too frequently disturbed by Indians that pass that
way. We saw several of the animals, however, but at the slightest
sound they disappeared under water. We came home at a quick
pace; saw nothing more of interest except a fat buck that we scared
away from his lair and an arrow cut at its upper end in the form of
a bird. Around the arrow was a wide circle, where the ground bore
the impress of dancing warriors.

Toward midday we arrived here, full of enthusiasm for life in the
bush; for horseback rides over stock and stone, through clear streams
and across the plains; for dreams of the night, as we he wrapped
in our mantles beside a crackling fire, while our horses are grazing
beside us and our loaded rifles lie near at hand. But the keen eyes
of a hunter, his principal asset, I lack.

Of all the situations at the fort Morgan’s appeals to me most. To
be sure, when he is out in the wilds he does not have the benefit of
as good meals as we enjoy here, but what advantage have we in
comparison with his free roving through meadow and forest, over
mountain and vale, hunting deer, buffaloes, bears, ducks, and geese,
trapping beaver, foxes, and wolves in the service and under the pro-
tection of the company.

He sleeps and dreams in his tent of skin. His life as hunter offers
a much more varied existence than even that of the huntsmen regu-
larly employed at the fort; the latter go on the chase only once a
week, when fresh meat is needed. Even then they hunt only buffa-
loes or elks, shoot and kill as many as they have need of, load the
pack horses that are taken along for the purpose; quickly flay the
beasts, cut off the best portions of meat, which they bind together and
lay across the pack saddle, the weight equally balanced on both sides,
and hasten home, not taking time even to smoke a pipe.

Morgan was talking about going next year to visit “auld lang syne”
and see his mother and sister. Who knows whether his leaving
might not give me an opportunity to remain here as overseer of the
engagees? For that purpose I do not need an especially keen eye,
nor any knowledge of the Indian speech. On the contrary, European
languages and tact suffice for association with such people as they.
I feel so well here. Iam no sufferer from nostalgia. If I can only
sketch here and there, I am happy.

What delights can civilized States offer an honest, industrious
human being not certain as to how he is to earn his bread? How

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 133

unhappy I should be to find that even my pictures of Indians would
not provide an income—to have my sheet anchor fail me.

I should be perfectly satisfied where I am if I could have my two
boxes; one of them is 2,500 miles distant (at St. Joseph), the other
170 miles away, and both in danger of being gnawed to pieces by
mice and moths or else of being lost. Such a situation causes me
to reflect much upon conditions at my old home. How unjust it
seems that any active and industrious person should be uncertain as
to his means of earning board and clothes. A wrong arrangement
of things in human societies.

In appreciation of Mr. Denig’s many kindnesses I copied for him
my sketch of the interior of the fort.

September 20. Mr. Denig has again contrived some employment
for me, i. e., to paint the picture of an eagle, life size, on cotton cloth;
then to sew thereon stripes of red and white cloth in alternating
stripes about 15 feet long, thus providing flags for Indians. They
are to pay the handsome price of 20 robes apiece for these standards;
so only the wealthiest among them can afford to enjoy the distinc-
tion of possessing one.

Mr. Denig likes to look on the while, and he talks to me continu-
ally about Indian legends and usages. As he writes the best of those
stories for Pére de Smet, by whom they are published, there is no
need of my preserving more than some bits of memoranda.**

After a few studies from life and further understanding as to the
position the eagle was to have in relation to the peace pipe, I set to
work at once.

Not the golden eagle but the white-headed or bald eagle is the
national emblem of the United States. The last-named bird is not
known, however, on the Missouri. The first is a brave well known
to the Indians. Whether the fur traders, like Franklin, thought
the noble golden eagle a more desirable emblem for the coat of arms
of the United States than the common bald eagle I do not know. It
is highly probable that they chose that one because it alone was
known to the prairie Indians. Audubon referred to Franklin’s opin-
ion concerning the unfortunate choice of the national bird and
expressed himself as in full agreement. Unluckily, the character of
North Americans, as a Nation, corresponds to that of the bald eagle.
It is unnecessary to offer further proof of that than was made evi-
dent in the recent commercial crisis of 1857 in the United States.
Did not the Americans say then to their leading creditors in Eu-
rope, “We have your goods; we will not pay you for them; go to

48Tf I had only written them in full! Then the book would have been known to
myself, at least, and to others on this side of the Atlantic. Even now I like to recall
some of the stories he related to me about jugglery: A wager an Indian made with him
as to which of them was the most sharp-witted. It was the true exploit of that illustrious
chief of the Assiniboin—Gaucher.

134 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

smash, like ancient and honorable folk; we are young, your ruin
does us no harm’?

As Franklin’s opinion, as well as that of Audubon, reveals nobility
of character not possessed by the majority of Yankees, I append his
words here.*®

He said today that he never wears anything at all that belongs
distinctly to Indian dress, for the reason that Indians take pride in
procuring for themselves clothes according to our mode and have an
ambition to appear dressed as white men, because they regard our
garments more fashionable and expensive. A white person in Indian
costume inspires no especial respect among the tribes; on the con-
trary, he rather lowers himself in their estimation. Furthermore,
if he is a white man in the Indian garb of a different tribe he runs far
more risk of being killed, because he may not be recognized in that
disguise as a pale face. ‘That is possibly Mr. Denig’s real reason
for discarding buckskin clothes, which are certainly more serviceable
for life in the bush and on the prairie and serve as better protection
against sun and mosquitoes when one is on horseback. However, he
rarely goes outside the fort any more. The clerks who will stay here
for years, indeed, for the rest of their lives, perhaps, in the employ of
a trading company, endeavor, of course, to oblige the latter; they
wear, therefore, clothes made of materials that the company carries
in stock and on which a considerable profit is realized. For that
reason such an arrangement is acceptable to them. Most of the
engagees bring with them quantities of clothing for which they paid
much less at the place whence they came and which affords them a
good article for trade among themselves.

The “Mountaineer” costume, in which they array themselves in
St. Joseph and St. Louis, they have made before their departure for
the purpose of distinguishing themselves. Such suits of clothes are
made up and sold at Fort Pierre. Buffalo hides are said to be
prepared there and marked for sale.

September 21. Have finished the eagle. This is my first oil paint-
ing during the entire 5 years I have been absent from home; the

*# The words are not appended in the Kurz manuscript, but the author refers, presum-
ably, to the following taken from a letter Dr. Franklin sent from Passy, under date of
Jan. 26, 1784, to his daughter, Mrs. Sarah Bache [translator] :

“For my own part, I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of
our country; he is a bird of bad moral character; he does not get his living honestly ;
you may have seen him perched on some dead tree, where, too lazy to fish for himself,
he watches the labor of the fishing hawk; and, when that diligent bird has at length
taken a fish, and is bearing it to his nest for the support of his mate and young ones,
the bald eagle pursues him and takes it from him. With all this injustice he is never in
good care; but, like those among men who live by sharping and robbing, he is generally
poor, and often very lousy. Besides, he is a rank coward; the little kingbird, not bigger
than a sparrow, attacks him boldly and drives him out of the district. He is therefore
by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America, whe have
driven all the king birds from our country; though exactly fit for that order of knights
which the Wrench call Chevaliers d'Industrie.”

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 135

smell of the paints gave me both pleasure and pain. I brought no
oil colors on the journey with me, because they are too circumstantial ;
occupy too much space and take far too much time to dry. Water
colors are much more practical to take along when one is traveling.
Otherwise I should greatly prefer colors in oil. In the first place, I
might have more practice, and, secondly, I find that objects covered
with hair, like animals, are portrayed in a much more lifelike manner
when painted in oil. In the matter of technique, painting in water
colors is distinctly more difficult than oil painting. When working
with the former one has to be sparing with white and come forward
gradually with the dark colors; consequently, the artist must be sure
of his subject beforehand—idea and effect must be calculated with
utmost exactitude before he begins; for with too much washing the
freshness of the colors is lost.

On the other hand, in oil painting he may put in the white after
he has disposed the rest of the tones; he need not calculate so exactly
beforehand points of high light but can decide that definitely there-
after. Furthermore, in oil painting mistakes can be much more
easily corrected than in water colors. With the spatula he can re-
move what is wrong without injury to the canvas, while by frequent
applications of water to the paper he may change an individual part
of the composition in a picture already dry. When working in oil
an artist has the further advantage of producing transparency in
color, the utmost degree of radiance, while to achieve that extremely
difficult aim with water colors, to produce colors that are soft and
transparently clear, he must have had long practice and have gained
an exact knowledge of the science of mixing his pigments. English
artists are preeminent in water-color painting. But in producing
their effects they use also quassia, oil colors, and crayons.

What one is capable of doing with a beard brush, ink brushes, and
with no lacquer or Guimet, anybody who has the least knowledge of
this subject can readily understand.

I gave general satisfaction with my eagle, however, and am there-
fore content. If I had refused to paint the bird because of the lack
of necessary materials I might have been thought ill-natured, and that
would not have been well. It might perhaps have also been whis-
pered about in secret that I could not paint the eagle and had evaded
the task by a subterfuge. This much is certain: that while a pre-
tended painter can produce nothing worth while even when equipped
with the best materials, a real artist, though he cannot acquit him-
self as well, of course, as when he is supplied with everything he
needs, will reveal something of his capability even with the worst
materials,

81634—37——10

136 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Mr. Denig has been reading to me again from his manuscript, which
is extremely interesting. He is very well educated, and he has made
a thorough study of Indian life—a distinct advantage to him in trade.
He is so fond of the life in this part of the country that he is averse
to any thought of going back to his Pennsylvania home in the United
States.°° On this occasion we talked a long while about the future
of the Indian race. To be sure, the Americans are much to blame for
the present unhappy state of things among the Indians on the bor-
ders, but it is, one may say, their heritage from the English, Spanish,
and French.

From the time the Western Continent was known those nations
contested claims to land in North America without regard to the
aboriginal inhabitants. They laid claim to tracts of land where white
man had never set foot; the boundaries of which were wholly unde-
termined and therefore the constant cause of petty jealousies, disputes,
and war. When the Colonies declared their independence a new
power came upon the field which, from the standpoint of geographi-
cal position, was permitted to make more pretensions to the land than
foreign nations for the reason that this was the home, the native land
of the Americans. Moreover, the fact that the English and the
French made use of the Indians as instruments in their pretexts for
war, in order to assert their right to property unlawfully obtained,
had so deeply involved the colonists in the Indian wars, had aroused
such hostility between themselves and the original inhabitants, that
it was difficult, nay, impossible, to conclude peace with them imme-
diately after their Declaration of Independence. For that reason it
was impossible for the new government, because it had not yet suffi-
cient power, to prevent emigration to the West (nor was it desired).
Already, as colonists, those highly religious but most un-Christian
Anglo-Americans looked upon Indian territory as their own possession
and the Indians themselves as their enemies.

“Tt is not right for Indians to own so much uncultivated land
while white ‘gentlemen’ are forced to live in want.” As is well known,
Indians in the East planted maize and tobacco, turnips and beans in
abundance; bands of marauding colonists went out against them with
the express purpose of destroying villages and taking possession of
their stores as well as of laying waste the young corn and lately sown
fields. They did not learn the culture of those fruits of the field from
the white race, but the growing of maize, tobacco, and potatoes they

50 Not for the reason, as he says, that he may have 2 wives here, but to avoid political
carryings-on that disgust him. J’accord! Owing to an accident, his old wife is of no
service; so, according to customs in this part of the world, he might be divorced. For
the sake of his kind feeling toward her and of keeping her here as companion for the
younger wife, so that the latter may not seek amusement at the homes of the clerks’ Or
engagees’ wives, he will not cast her off. Furthermore, he has a son and a daughter by
her. His boy is being educated in Chicago, but the girl is at home with her mother.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 137

learned from the redskins. So that reproach about the latter’s leaving
so much land uncultivated misses the mark utterly, so far as the east-
ern nations are concerned. The Indian war, just as Negro slavery, is
the colonists’ heritage from the British, a curse that Englishmen left
behind them but which seems not to have satisfied them, for they con-
tinued during a period of 30 years (up to the Black Hawk war) by
presenting gifts to the Indians and holding out promises of assistance
to incite the tribes to uprisings against the Americans. It is not ex-
traordinary, therefore, that the latter still harbor feelings of hatred
toward the Indian.

Still, whether with the help of this nation or that, Indians have
the right to defend their domain, and, now that Americans have
grown so mighty, forcing England to discontinue her former prac-
tices, it would be more worthy a great nation to treat the tribes in a
better way, to make their future secure, to grant them equal rights,
allow them the same privileges that the white race enjoys; in a word,
allow the two races to intermingle. Other things being equal,
difference in color is no reason for keeping them separate.

Whether the United States Government has any higher purpose
in calling together so many tribes at Fort Laramie than merely to
negotiate a treaty for free passage through their territory on the way
to Oregon and California only time will prove.

Tf only the eastern nations had been united, had made peace with
one another for the purpose of driving back covetous enemies, had
trusted no white nation nor made compacts with any of them, they
would have been strong enough to repel all intruders. But hatred
was too strongly indulged among the different tribes, unfortunately
too deeply rooted, to admit of united action.

September 22. Yesterday the thought never once entered my mind
that it was Sunday, and yet I keep a journal with great regularity.
Rain fell in such streams all day and all night, and penetrated
through the roof and ceiling into my room in such quantities, that
I was forced to the constant occupation of placing water basin and
empty paint pots beneath the leaks in order to prevent an inundation.

Today I painted a good-sized picture of my bourgeois’ pet, Natoh,
whose image I represented so true to life that his master was per-
fectly satisfied and the women especially delighted. JI took pleasure
in the work on my part, because it has been so long since I painted
in oil that I feared I might get out of practice. I have always found,
however, that by varying the kind of work I do, by allowing my
several senses or faculties some relaxation, I invariably gain. Just
as perpetual eating fails finally to nourish, but, on the contrary, does
damage to the stomach, so continued painting dulls the color sense,
incessant sketching makes less exact one’s sense of form, too pro-

138 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

longed and unvarying application to the study of composition ren-
ders less keen the imaginative faculty. When food has been digested,
appetite restored, and desire for further nourishment awakes, then
one eats with zest and food contributes properly to strength and
sustains health. The same applies in the matter of mental nutri-
ment—mental occupations. My first experience as student in Paris
impressed that truth for all time; for 8 months I worked with ardent
zeal from 7 o’clock in the morning until 10 o’clock at night, resting
only at night and on Sundays.

The result was that, even though I made considerable advance for
some time, my faculties were so exhausted from fatigue that I saw
neither colors, forms, nor proportions truly; in consequence, I
imagined that I should never succeed in art and determined to give
it up. In disgust I fastened a stone to my collection of studies and
from the Pont de Jena I threw them into the Seine. Every artist
eager for success suffers at times such miserable states of mind. Then
a long period often intervenes before he recovers himself again. The
more keenly he suffers the more gradual his restoration. After a
4-months’ trip, including a stay in Compiegne (St. Jean les Deux
Jumeaux), Havre, and Brittany (at Fouiilee), I was fully restored
to my former energy—I might well say, to proper understanding.
But those studies I threw away were a great loss—a loss I shall
never cease to regret, notwithstanding I have now replaced them with
another collection made among the Indians. Precisely for that rea-
son, i. e., the resulting detriment to myself, I learned from that
experience this lesson I shall never forget: Never again to bring
about by overfatigue such a wretched state of mind as that which I
overcame with such difficulty and at so great a loss of time.

September 23. This has been a splendid day in my experience; I
have been on the chase for the first time and shot my first buffalo.
Sketched my first buffalo from life.

After breakfast old Spagnole, our cattle herd (doesn’t look like a
shepherd) brought news that huntsmen from the opposition fort ™
were running buffalo on the lower prairie. At once Mr. Denig, with
much kindness, offered me the pacer so that I could chase buffaloes
with Owen Mackenzie and so have an opportunity to study them.
Mackenzie rode Condee. We were therefore admirably mounted, and
having no orders to bring meat back we followed the hunt with no
other object in view than our own pleasure. Mackenzie was to kill a
fine specimen so that I might have the chance to make a sketch. My
equipment consisted of my sketchbook, carried in my pouch, which
was swung over my shoulder, a rifle laid across my lap, hunting
knife stuck in my belt at the back, and a bullet pouch hung beside

51 We called them dobies, from the word “adobe”, because their fort is built of sun-
dried clay.

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KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 139

the powder horn, also suspended from my belt. Mackenzie had re-
turned only this morning at breakfast from a buffalo hunt of several
days in another region; it was therefore most kind of him to ride
out again with me before he had taken any rest.

How different are one’s sensations when sitting a fiery courser
whose desire is always to advance beyond the pace, which one must
constantly restrain, lest the animal be carried beyond control from
excess of high spirits, from sheer delight in the chase—how different
from riding a weary, melancholy nag that one wears oneself out with
beating and prodding without getting on any faster. What a differ-
ence it makes in one’s feelings! When provided with an excellent
mount, the blood courses more rapidly through one’s veins, one’s
heart leaps for joy; Nature seems entrancing! We could not have
chosen more beautiful weather—warm sunshine, clear air, a cloudless
sky, and the wide, wide horizon, in the far distance, merged in blue
haze. The ground was dry—no dusty stretches, no bogs or fens. We
had to go 5 miles at a brisk pace before we reached the herd we were
in pursuit of. We were beginning to think that the “dobies” had
spoiled our sport when, near the so-called Butte de Mackenzie (named
for the father of my companion on the chase), we came unexpectedly
upon a small group of both old and young bulls. Some of them were
lying in the grass near a spring at the upper end of a coulee; others
were comfortably grazing round about them. We changed our course
at once, rode around the hill, along by thickets of wild cherry and
plum trees that covered the coulee, in order to fall upon the buffaloes
unawares. But the sound of hoofbeats had already warned them;
those we had seen lying on the grass had sprung to their feet, and,
with tails aloft, speedily took to flight.

At a mad gallop we crossed the brook and followed close upon the
fleeing herd. Even the horses shared our eagerness and tried to outdo
each other, but I allowed Mackenzie to get ahead so that I could ob-
serve him. With his keen eye he had already selected his victim, ap-
proached within 2 feet, and fired. So true was his aim that the
animal lay dead as I passed on a gallop. It might be truly said that
suddenly he fell to earth. In the grip of death he groaned, beat the
ground with his hoofs, and rolled over on his side. So accurately had
the ball pierced his heart that I thought at first he had fallen from
sheer fright. But we went much farther. I had a great desire at
least to shoot at a buffalo. Mackenzie bade me follow him; we set out
again at a gallop and came up with the herd. He singled out a bison
for me and forced the animal apart from its companions. I pursued
it over the rolling prairie until I was so close I couldn’t miss aim.
At my first shot the ball entered just a little too high; he turned in
such a way that my second shot struck his right knee. Then Macken-

140 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

zie rode forward and in passing the old fellow sent a bullet into his
heart. The pouch swung across my shoulder was a great hindrance
when I was shooting, because I was forced to keep it in position
with my left arm and yet found it difficult to do that and at the same
time fire a gun.

While in full chase, drawing nearer and nearer the fleeing herd,
we reloaded our rifles. Mackenzie was laughing the while at the
wounded buffalo, who was trying to run, notwithstanding a bullet in
his heart. In truth he was killed! He could go no farther. All at
once he stood as still as a block and looked angrily toward us, his nose
dripping with blood. I reined in my pacer and took aim, intending
to shoot the animal in the head and bring him down. My horse, all
in a heat from the swift gallop, could not stand quietly; he snorted,
he foamed, he pawed the ground; as a result, my shot went amiss,
merely grazing the forehead of the monster. He hardly moved his
head. But he began at last to sway, placed his feet wide apart to
balance himself, but nothing could help him more. He was obliged
to come down, first on a fore knee, then on his side. The beast was
too thin to serve me for a model buffalo; therefore, we left him lying
there and rode back to the first one we had shot. We dismounted,
tethered our horses with long halters, and allowed them to graze
while I made as exact drawings as I could, showing different views
of the fallen bison. As soon as I had finished my sketching, Macken-
zie cut out the tongue and other choice bits of meat to take to his
wife. Then we galloped home. What joy!

On our way home Mackenzie pointed out to me on the left bank of
the Yellowstone a prairie where several years ago he caught a wild
mare—an adventure that came to a tragic end. He was riding the
fleet-footed John at the time and found that he was some distance
ahead of the pack horses that were to carry the meat as usual to the
fort as soon as he should have the luck to kill a buffalo. In the dis-
tance he saw a drove of dark-colored animals grazing; he directed his
course so as to gain the wind and take them by surprise. He made
ready his rifle and gave fiery John the reins as soon as he thought
the distance favorable. But when he got sight of the herd again he
saw that they were not buffaloes at all, but wild horses. As the
horses took to flight immediately, for they were just as shy as the
former, Mackenzie laid his gun across his lap and seized his lasso of
twisted leather, fixed the noose, and pursued the fleeing herd at a
riotous gallop. John soon drew near his wild blood relations and
Mackenzie selected from among them a black mare that was accom-
panied by a young foal. He rode after her and with his right hand
swung the lasso, catching her head in the noose, while, with his left
hand, he held fast to the other end of the rope. He drew in the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 141

thong, choking the imprisoned animal by a violent jerk backward
that forced her to stop, while at the same time he reined in his own
horse. The foal turned back and kept near its mother, now brought
to a stand by means of the choking noose and thereby subdued.

Then, with the assistance of Spagnole, who happened to be hurry-
ing by, Mackenzie bound together the mare’s feet, so that he could
leave her lying there while he followed the chase, for he dared not
return home without meat. Unfortunately he did not find buffaloes
as soon as he expected and his return to the place was delayed until
the next day, when he found only the colt’s head, tail, and feet. The
mother also, his captured mare, had already fallen a prey to wolves.

To have had such a ride and to have made the sketches! As my
shot did not bring down the second buffalo, I returned without
trophies.

In the afternoon we delivered Joe Picotte’s portrait. Mr. Denig
insisted that I demand a flask of whisky in return, and when I refused
to bite, because I would rather have had a pair of elk horns, he him-
self, as a “wink” to Joe, sketched in a whisky bottle at the bottom of
the picture. But it was of no avail; there is no longer any whisky to
be had at the adobe fort. Joe Picotte offered to give me any Indian
curio that I would mention. I would have liked to have asked for the
horns, but what would Mr. Denig have said about that? I was think-
ing only of myself. So we both came away empty-handed. Bear
meat, juicy and tender, was served at supper. Ramsay shot bruin
on a headland (projecting point of wooded land) quite nearby. The
“dobies’” fort is more favorably situated for hunting than ours
because it stands between two densely wooded forests.

September 24. Began a portrait of Mr. Denig—life-size, knee-
length. This work is to be finished before Mr. Culbertson’s return
from Fort Laramie for the reason that he may possibly take me with
him to Fort Benton.

Bears, big with young, if frightened, smoked out or in any manner
driven from their dens during their winter sleep, are said to bring
forth their cubs often prematurely. Ducks, when hotly pursued on
the water, are said to fix their feet firmly to the grass below the
surface and expose only their bills for air, in the hope of escaping
the eye of their pursuers. Indians on a stag hunt disguise them-
selves by covering the upper part of the body with a wolf’s skin, the
head with antlers and tufts of wormwood, in order to deceive the
animals. Some of them turn somersaults, tumble over themselves,
and gesticulate like mad to arouse the curiosity of the antelopes.
But in order to be successful they must keep themselves always in lee
of the wind. If a buffalo shows an inclination to fight, shakes his
head and threatens pursuit, which is very rare, one is to shoot him in

142 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

the nose. The shock will stop him for an instant; that the hunter
must be quick to profit by and get away.

If it so happens that one’s gun is not loaded, one is to prop it firmly
on the ground, so that, in running, the beast will strike his head
against it. This is to be done, however, only at times of extreme
danger, because the gun will be broken to pieces by the hurtling of
the furious colossus, and, furthermore, one runs the risk of being
trampled underfoot. The Assiniboin were called by the Cree In-
dians Assinibuaduk, 1. e., stone eaters [correctly, Stone Dakota |,°1*
because, it is said, they followed the custom at an earlier period of
cooking meat not in the fire but on hot stones. Absaroka they call
Crows, 1. e., Crow Indians.

In Indian combat the intensity of the struggle, the most violent
fighting, centers about the dead or wounded, as in the Trojan wars.
An Indian’s greatest glory is to distinguish himself as a warrior;
that is why the various tribes have been in armed conflict among
themselves for so long a time that, as a rule, they can no longer recall
ihe first cause of strife. Their real motive springs less frequently,
therefore, from a desire to wage a war of extermination than to gain
an opportunity to win distinction as braves. To kill an enemy from
a distance bespeaks no courage, is not regarded as the deed of a hero,
is not accredited as a “coup”; on the other hand, to strike down your
foe in hand-to-hand combat requires force, skill, bravery, and cunning.

Inasmuch as some proof is demanded of the victor’s having
touched his vanquished enemy, if no one is present to bear witness
to the fact, he takes off the scalp of the one slain; that is, he cuts
off the skin of the head, together with the hair, or, in fact, only a
part of it. To do that requires time, and to expose himself so long
to the rage or vengeance of enemies demands courage. In an en-
counter where many witnesses are at hand no scalp is required as
evidence of valor for which a “coup” may be accredited, but the
hero must have touched the fallen enemy either with his hand or
with his weapon. This explains the press about the fallen foe.
Furthermore, it is regarded the worst ignominy, the utmost disgrace
of a band, especially of a chieftain, if the enemy captures the body
of one of his men, treats it with insult, cuts off the limbs, delivers
them to women for their dance of triumph, and finally throws them
to dogs for food. Therefore the furious onset in defense of a fallen
savage.

Bands of equal strength seldom attack each other unless the war
is waged out of plain hate. To expose themselves to a loss without
the certainty of gain is not “smart”,*as the Americans express it, 1. e.,
not crafty, not shrewd. And shrewdness is the better part of valor.

‘ia That is, Buaniig, the Dakota, not ‘‘eater,” in Chippewa.—Hd.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 143

If a band of limited numbers is set upon by a superior force, every
one fights as courageously as a lion, even to the last man—not one
attempts to escape.

To provoke one another by jeering, to challenge one another, is
much the practice among Indians; it affords them an opportunity to
signalize themselves in the presence of their own people. Also re-
minds one of the Greeks and Trojans. Generally speaking, how-
ever, the heroes described by Homer are in no sense like Indians.
Assiniboin (Dacota, also Nacota, Hoha, or Hohe, called the disloyal
by their related tribe, the Sioux) rarely take prisoners.®? They kill
everybody who comes under their tomahawk: the old, and gray-
haired, women, children, and young girls. All are enemies—have
begotten foes or will beget future foes.

Girls from the best Indian families are strictly guarded, and upon
going out at night are required to be closely muffled, because young
“bucks”, when in the humor to run the risk of a fray or to expose
themselves to the danger of being stabbed, are allowed to try their
luck when and where they please. Such practices allure lads of
mettle, because of the danger involved, and afford them, according
to their point of view, a sort of preliminary preparation for military
exploits that are to be seriously undertaken later on. When once
recognized as braves they no longer stoop to such larks. They are
men. They respect themselves as such and act accordingly. As a
brave may have wives, ad libitum, as many as he is able to support,
he buys (marries) the girl that appeals to him.

IT am told that some time ago a daughter of Ours Fou, chief of the
Assiniboin (now with Mr. Culbertson at Fort Laramie), hanged her-
self, because, notwithstanding that she was so closely muffled and so
strictly watched, one of these young fellows succeeded in taking ad-
vantage of her. He made a boast of this and, from chagrin, she
hanged herself. Whether she was driven to the rash act by his ill-
mannered boastings or by his bold misconduct the story does not
make clear. In consequence of her death the boy was forced to go
away and join another band for a year, and his relatives had to give
horses and other presents by way of atonement for his wrongdoing.

Accidental injury or death to a member of a tribe demands the same
vengeance or propitiation as death or injury inflicted purposely. The
only exculpation held to be valid is the wounding or killing of a man
in the disguise of an animal skin that Indians adopt to decoy stags
or antelopes. Such an accident is pardonable, because one must shoot
on the instant one is aware of the slightest indication of an animal
being near. For the further reason, also, that there is the possibility

52 Quatre Ours was taken prisoner by the Assiniboin.

144 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

of an enemy concealing himself under that disguise in order to play
the spy.

Assiniboin, Cree, Crows, Blackfeet, Flatheads—none of them have
any idea of the great numbers of people that make up the white
population or the least notion of the power of the United States
Government.

The few white fur traders and the people employed by them, In-
dians look upon as poor men who find no means of earning a living
at home. Even though one of the chiefs makes a visit to the States
to inform himself, none of his tribe believe what he tells on his return.
They are unable to comprehend the marvels he reports. A son-in-law
of our bourgeois was murdered for no other reason than his refusal
to allow himself to be called a lar; consequently, he shot down the
offender at once. Then he was also killed by the revengeful tribes-
men. These are facts I have picked up during Mr. Denig’s sittings
for his portrait.

September 25. The portrait is finished. The old man is perfectly
delighted that he possesses something new to excite the wonder of the
Indians. “Who is that? Do you know him?” he asks Indian women
and children. As everybody recognizes the likeness as his own he 1s
very much pleased. Redskins do not understand how a picture of a
man can be painted exactly like a given person whom they know.
That cannot be done by any natural means, so the spectacles must
surely have had something to do with it; for not one of all the other
whites is able to paint, much less to wear spectacles.

They comprehend quite clearly that the human figure can be repre-
sented with special sort of clothes; they themselves have practice in
such hieroglyphics. In their drawings they designate a man by
representing the figure with legs; a woman, by a long skirt; in other
words, a figure without legs. But to paint a face that every child
knows for Minnehasga (Long Knife, Indian name for the bourgeois
as Americans), that is most extraordinary. The picture of Natoh
was amazing, but now, a very man! What pleases Mr. Denig espe-
cially is the remark of his wives, that, stand wherever they may in
the room or walk wherever they will, his picture constantly looks at
them. “Ehah, wakan!” What witchcraft is this!

Since his portrait has proved such a success Mr. Denig takes much
more interest in my ideas concerning a collection of pictures repre-
senting Indian life. He is now convinced, also, that I have sufficient
ability to execute them in the proper way. He approves of my plan:
Six landscapes (forest, prairie, river, coulee, a view in perspective,
crags) ; six animal pieces (buffalo, bear, elk, stag, antelope, horse) ;
six scenes from Indian life (the dance, sport, combat, family, hunt,
a group about the council fire). “Only they must be large, very
large,” he said; “small pictures produce no effect.”

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 145

The above plan was a fancy of mine when I was preparing for my
American studies. No repetition, nothing to amaze or shock, ani-
mals to enliven the landscape, and the latter to be depicted in a
characteristic manner as background for the figures.

But my greatest difficulty was lack of money; I was in need of an
independent income in order to put my plans into effect ; furthermore,
to enable me to vary my studies, to enrich and enlarge my collection
of paintings. In any case, such a plan is of great advantage on an
artist’s professional tour, because he recognizes at once what his objec-
tive is, what he needs to do, then goes systematically to work on his
studies without losing time with futile attempts here and there. Dur-
ing the first year, accordingly, I studied nothing but landscape; sev-
eral years thereafter only Indians; and finally wild animals; the last-
named came last, because they are found in regions farthest removed
from my starting point.

We had great fun this evening with our grizzly; he broke loose
from his chain and, of course, had to be caught again. Mac. and
Spagnole threw their lassos but their efforts were long in vain, for
bruin was always prompt to ward them off with his paw. They
succeeded finally, however, between the two, in holding him fast
between the nooses. While we drew in the lassos to confine securely
the sly and supple bear the old cowherd stood behind him and seized
his ears, in order to keep his head still while his collar was put on.
The old man then ran out of the way, and our prisoner amused us
with the clever manner in which he slipped off the nooses.

Natoh, the dog, nipped him several times on the back but was
wary enough never to attack him in front. Natoh knows the effect
of a blow from bruin’s paw or a bite with his sharp teeth. Three
such dogs would cause a 2-year-old bear little concern.

September 26. During the winter season the Assiniboin and other
tribes construct in the neighborhood of their villages so-called parks
or enclosures, into which they entice buffaloes and kill them in droves
in order to provision the settlement with meat for a long period.
Such occasions afford the spectacle of a hunt more vast than one can
conceive and accompanied with much tumult and noise. On ground
suitably chosen for their purpose, they throw up a widespreading
circular enclosure of heavy logs and dry boughs. They leave a small
opening through which the park is entered. They then set up two
rows of stakes that diverge from either side of this entrance and
thus form, when completed, a passageway of sufficient width for a
herd to pass through. As soon as the hunters are aware of a nearby
herd, one of them, disguised as a buffalo, goes out to meet it, and
by imitating the cry of a calf, by bellowing, by shaking his buffalo
robe, and resorting to all sorts of motions endeavors to attract the

146 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

attention of the animal nearest him, and then approaches by slow
degrees the entrance to the park.

If the decoy can but excite the curiosity of the buffaloes in front
and set them in motion toward him as their ringleader, the others
follow of themselves. The members of a herd always follow their
leaders en masse, kept together by the timidity of the cows, their
sohcitude for their calves, and the jealousy of the bulls. The crafty
hunter moves slowly, never hurries. If he make but one bungling
movement he may betray himself, startle the animals, cause them to
take flight, spoil the hunt, expose himself to ridicule, and lose his
reputation as skilled and practiced huntsman to whom only this
most difficult undertaking might be intrusted. Not every one pos-
sesses that exact knowledge of the ways and habits of buffaloes, the
exceeding cleverness in imitating them, or the craft and courage to
expose himself to their horns and hoofs which insures success in
ensnaring a herd. As soon as the foremost bison have come near
enough to the narrow opening leading into the enclosure to bring
the entire drove between the two barriers, then hunters on horseback
as well as swift runners reveal themselves in the rear to cut off retreat
and by their presence to keep the animals moving forward. Not
until the disguised hunter has reached the “medicine pole” in the
center of the park, has presented his buffalo hide as offering, and
suspended it there along with other decorations and painted objects,
does the commotion and noise begin.

The decoy rushes out of the inclosure by an opening on the other
side and the bison, attempting to follow, are driven in with wild out-
cries and renewed tumult until the inclosed space is entirely filled.
Then, for fear that the ensnared beasts might attempt to break out,
all noise is hushed and the entrance is barred. Huntsmen, standing
around the inclosure, either shoot their captives or kill them by hurl-
ing spears. When they have slaughtered the herd to the last beast
Indian women enter with knives, wash themselves in the gore of their
victims, grub into the moist carcasses, dexterously cut off the twitch-
ing limbs, drink warm blood, and if very hungry, eat the raw flesh.

When on a general hunt, “mikawua cerne,” the hunters shoot in
full gallop. They count only the arrows or balls that miss their mark.
Women follow close behind them, fall upon the first victim, and
carefully rip off the hide, which is all that the hunters require. The
meat belongs to those who cut it up and haul it to the settlement in
travois drawn by horses or dogs.

Indians of both sexes are passionately fond of games, particularly
of those that still survive from their age-old free and independent
life. In social intercourse they have no important subjects for discus-
sion, such as political or financial matters, religious questions, their

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 147

own history, past and present, as compared with that of other remote
nations, or of other peoples varying widely in civilization, etc.

Their isolated, lonely existence in tent or village offers few subjects
for conversation. They are daily employed in war or hunting; their
interest in those adventures is already dulled by too frequent repeti-
tion. Their language, utterly lacking in flexibility and grace, is not
favorable to the cultivation of wit. Consequently they turn to games
as the only excitement their quiet way of life provides. Their object
in view, no matter how trivial or insignificant, they strive eagerly,
enthusiastically, to gain, but never contentiously. They have no
games that offer opportunity for cheating; they indulge in no strife
in their play. I have never seen or heard anything of the sort.

The Iowa are fond of card games (poker: the one who holds the
highest cards wins). But on many occasions I have seen two young
people sit down on the ground opposite each other, take off their moc-
casins, and place all four in a row between them. Then one of the
players thrusts his hand into each shoe, leaving in one of them his
finger ring or some other small object. His opponent has now to guess
in which shoe it is to be found. He is allowed only one chance;
accordingly as he guesses right or wrong he wins or loses the game.

At the Omaha village I saw Indian youths hurling light-weight
spears full tilt through revolving rings—a very difficult feat, but one
that affords superb exercise for the body, because throughout the
game the players run continually up and down the course and at the
same time bring their bodily muscles into further action by prac-
ticing the swift hurling of a lance at a mark that is in constant
motion.

Herantsa are fond of the so-called billiard game, which, when
weather permits, they practice constantly in and about their village.
They play the game with a billiard wand that they throw with full
strength toward a hoop rolling along the ground. This wand or cue
has four markings indicated with leather and at the end a pad made
of leather strips, scraps of cloth, or, for want of something better,
even bunches of grass. The winner starts the hoop, both players run
along beside it and throw their wands, the flight of which is retarded
by the pads, called idi by the Herantsa, so that they do not take too
wide a range over the smooth course. To be sure the ground is not
as smooth as a floor; it is uneven, but cleared of pebbles and filth.
According to that mark on the cue or wand on which the hoop in
falling rests, they reckon the game. Oftentimes the players throw
their wands so uniformly that they fall one upon the other, making it
impossible for the contestants themselves to decide which wins.

Whereupon, without wrangling or the least suggestion of conten-
tion, they appeal at once to the older spectators, whose decision is

148 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

accepted. Although they always put up some small or trifling object
at the beginning of the game, the stakes are steadily increased in
value until not infrequently they mount quite high; for instance, from
bows, arrows, knives, moccasins, to buffalo robes, ornamented leg-
gings, mitasses, richly adorned leather shirts, tobacco pipes, guns,
horses, tents, and it sometimes happens that the players even venture
their elder wives. Some members of the Herantsa Tribe devote them-
selves exclusively to this game—never take part in the hunt.

The “boss” (Meitzer, Schutz, bourgeois) has told me quite a little
about games that are enjoyed among the Crows and the Assiniboin.
The former are said to be much given to cheating and swindling, the
latter are reputed to be generous by nature and good-tempered (?%).
They take a shallow wooden plate, put in it some beans or seeds of
corn that have been burned black on one side and add thereto a mag-
pie’s claw, one talon of which is distinguished from the others by a
white line drawn from the root to the tip; they put in also, if they
have them, some brass nail heads. Then they turn the plate quickly
upside down.

According as the black or bright side of the seeds lhe upward,
but especially as to the position taken by the white tip of the magpie’s
claw, they reckon the count. If the loser is obstinate or his means
considerable the game is sometimes continued for several days with-
out interruption. So long as he has something still to stake he is
ashamed to withdraw. In such a case, for the sake of giving the
loser further chance to continue the play, and also to prolong the
sport, the following rule is observed: The winning player puts up a
stake in opposition to the one that has been advanced by the loser
twice the value of all that he has won. When the excitement of play
is at its height they stake tents made of skins, women, nay, some-
times their own lives. When one loses everything and no longer
possesses a dwelling or a family he may well be ashamed to live
longer. His life is never taken, however; he becomes, instead, the
servant of him who won, i. e., he must serve as hunter. Values range
as follows: two knives equal in value a pair of leggings; two knives
and leggings, a blanket; two knives, leggings, and blanket are
equivalent in value to a rifle; two knives, leggings, blanket, and gun,
to the price of a horse; all of those objects taken together equal in
value a tent made of skins; and, finally, all the last-named group in
combination are reckoned to be worth as much as a woman.

From a bundle of peeled sticks about 2 feet long a handful is
quickly separated, even while the player passes them from one hand
to the other. His opponent must guess the number taken out.

Mr. Denig declares that the Indians dress themselves much better
now than in earlier days. When he became acquainted with them

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 149

first (speaking, of course, of Indians here) they were either nude or
else clothed in soiled, shabby, ragged skins. Only very seldom, upon
special occasions, were they rigged out in their finery. Nowadays
they are more cleanly, bedeck themselves with beads and blankets,
own horses, and, according to their own fancy or their needs, they
make saddles that are beautiful as well as practical. In short, along
with much that might be spared, Indians have received from the fur
traders a very great deal that is beneficial to them.

Whether I shall include in my gallery the modern Indian or limit
my productions to representations of the primitive savage I have
not yet decided. If I adopt the latter plan I lose too much that is
picturesque—the majestic folds of the woolen blanket, the war horse
with his splendid, impetuous rider. To represent Indian life truly
I would better mingle, perhaps, the ancient and modern, thus repre-
senting in my pictures life among Indians as it reveals itself today.
That affords more variation, more action and character.

All redskins who live along rivers or lake shores are always clean,
because they are not only admirable swimmers but all of them—men,
women, and children—are passionately fond of that exercise.
Herantsa and Arikara go in bathing every day, preferably twice a day
than not at all. Even during the influenza epidemic, notwithstand-
ing high fevers, depleted strength, and coughs, they took one another
into the water. The mother bathes herself and her newborn babe in
cold water, so long as the water is not cold enough to freeze. It is
owing to the lack of such opportunities and due to conditions only
that prairie Indians are ever uncleanly. They have no liking for dirt
and filth; such a disposition is not in keeping with their fondness for
personal adornment or their excessive desire to please.

There is another question I have discussed at some length with Mr.
Denig; that is, whether the American Indians are a happier people
since their association with the white race. That depends, he says,
upon the conclusions arrived at by modern philosophical thinkers. If
human happiness consists in ease of mind, in contentment, then the
Indian is no longer as happy as he was in former days.

Now that he is acquainted with articles made of steel, such as
knives, axes, rifles, etc., with tinder boxes, the hewing of logs, with
horses, blankets, all sorts of materials for clothing and ornamenta-
tion, and with the taste of coffee, sugar, etc., he regards these things
as indispensable to his needs; he is no longer content with his former
implements but regards ours as incomparably more profitable to him.
His life of contentment in the old days deteriorated into a hum-
drum, lazy existence, yet was the direct result of a mind satisfied.
Now that kind of happiness he enjoys no more. But is such a state
the end and aim of human destiny? If so, then all activities are

150 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD, 115

unnecessary except those that provide bread—or rather food—and
protection against heat or cold. Art, science, handicrafts, business
enterprises are then extravagant undertakings that may be dispensed
with. Only the hunter, the land proprietor, the shepherd, those who
contribute adequately to bodily needs, are really necessary to our well
being. Now the question is: Does the human being find his best
satisfaction in eating, drinking, and sleeping? Is our decision to take
into account the whole of human needs or only a part? Is man to be
accepted as a mere animal? Is he not endowed with talents that
enable him to rise above and dominate animal instincts? To gain
the mastery over inanimate matter? To rule over the animal king-
dom? Are not joys of mind and spirit more profound, more enduring
than pleasures of sense ?

Are not mental achievements just as indispensable as those occupa-
tions carried on by bodily exertion? We have, then, to provide nutri-
ment for the mind; we have to take care that our mental faculties are
properly cultivated. In our modern society, increasing in numbers
daily, this becomes a need, an absolute, unqualified necessity. In our
overpopulated States we are forced to be dissatisfied. Only the In-
dian, in the midst of a limited population inhabiting extensive tracts
of land, can afford to be contented with his lot; but he also is sensible
of his need of mental exertion, of the necessity for mental accom-
plishment.®*

So long as he is satisfied he will remain what he is; but for how-
ever long a time he does nothing but hunt, he roves about, having no
settled habitation ; he fails to improve his land by cultivating the soil.
The human being, however, like other species of animals, is by nature
sociable; he must live in association with his fellows. The more
numerous the inhabitants in a place, the more densely populated a
community, the more difficult to find resources for getting on. Man is
obliged to cultivate his land and he settles near his fields. He gains
thereby a fixed dwelling place to which he is more closely attached
than to hunting grounds. As we know, Indians who inhabited forest
lands in the East were able to provide themselves early with stable
habitations, because they had timber at hand in abundance and were
not obliged to follow roving herds. As a consequence, the tribes in
the East, notwithstanding their having been forced into wars with
increasing numbers of encroaching foreign nations, reached a higher
degree of civilization.

53 Why does every one of the tribes retain its enemies, even though the first cause of
strife is no longer remembered? Only to preserve some means of employing their minds.
Among prairie Indians war takes the place that the school occupies in our civilization.
War serves to develop their intelligence and to prepare them for their highest purpose in
life. As long as the chase suffices a man merely for his support he makes no further
exertion.

KuRzZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 151

Mind assists body; invention strengthens mental faculties. Inven-
tive power replaces instinct, raises man far above the lower animals,
stamps him a human being, and distinguishes him from all other
creatures.

This creative faculty of the human mind must necessarily be put
in action by compulsion, by discontent, and as a result of the struggle
man himself becomes creator; but in such striving to a higher state
that quiet self-content of primitive man and his consequent satisfac-
tion with his lot is forever lost; his earthly paradise is foregone.
When the human being has but once tasted fruit from the Tree of
Knowledge his earlier carefree existence no longer satisfies him. He
has experienced new delights, he is ever longing for those enjoyments,
for the fulfillment of his new desires, for the attainment of a further
aim. This incentive is the germ from which culture of mind and soul
proceeds; together with this inner impulse to better his condition
comes dissatisfaction with things as they are. The complex social
conditions under which we live make it impossible for us to be happy,
at least for long at a time. There are moments when we experience
unutterable joy! How rare those moments, and how dearly we have
to pay for them!

Civilization has so increased our material necessities that those of
us who are not wealthy spend the greater part of our time working
for a livelihood—to provide food, clothing, house, and home. And
happy is he who finds joy in his employment. Nevertheless, in the
cultivation of our minds we have pleasures infinitely above those en-
joyed by primitive man; the satisfaction we find in an excellent com-
position, in our work, in invention, is incomparably greater than that
of the hunter in shooting down a wild animal.

The majority of mankind look upon this terrestrial existence as a
hard school and take comfort in the thought of a future life, when,
after death, they will be able to enjoy unending peace and happiness.
They console themselves for the difficulties of the present in anticipa-
tion of future bliss; for reality they substitute likelihood. This belief
in a better future fate has become an imperative need. In proportion
to their faithfulness in service, their fortitude under suffering, they
are to be rewarded. That is their consolation.

Indians believe, also, in man’s continued existence after death, but
in an existence only slightly different from their life on earth. <Ac-
cording to their belief, physical needs are to be satisfied as well after
death as before. Their happy hunting ground will provide them
with wild beasts in superfluous numbers. They will suffer neither
cold nor hunger there. They believe also that warriors and huntsmen
who have distinguished themselves on earth are to have a life apart
and enjoy higher privileges than those conferred on cowards or

81634—37——11

152 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

sluggards. Asa matter of course, such ideas are consistent with their
manner of life here below, where their highest efforts are put forth
for pleasure of sense. Of striving toward spiritual perfection they
have not the least notion.**

We have different ideas concerning Heaven. According to our
view, not personal courage alone but purity of soul entitles us to
heavenly joys. <A striving for spiritual perfection! This concep-
tion does not presuppose that our earthly existence will be made more
difficult thereby or less happy. That one finds the means of earning
a livelihood so difficult oftentimes, even with the best intentions, well-
nigh impossible, on account of the increase in human population, re-
veals false deductions; shows a condition in human affairs out of
accord with Nature’s law, an imperfect arrangement of things in our
would-be Christian nations. That any person should be able at any
time to provide honorably the necessities of life by honest and profit-
able work seems to me a fundamental principle in the organization
of a state; for it can hardly be expected of such a person that he
strive for spiritual perfection while he constantly suffers want. That
entertaining of idle hopes concerning future splendor has never yet
fed the hungry or clothed the naked. Notwithstanding the Chris-
tian’s exhortation to put your trust in a kind and merciful Father,
great numbers die every day from starvation.

Nevertheless it is a true saying that necessity is the mother of
invention. To necessity we are indebted for marked advance in
science and in art. It is much to be doubted, furthermore, whether
without concern for the future people would exert their best energies;
whether their idealism, ambition, or competition would effect as
much; whether, in fine, liberality and Christian love might not abate
in fervor, even languish altogether, if there were no want. I know
well that perfection cannot be attained in this world, but I cannot
understand how it is that, notwithstanding the promises given in the
Sermon on the Mount, results in reality are so totally otherwise. Or,
if one is to accept only that food which is spiritual, one may well ask
why so many of the “well-intentioned” are spiritually lost.

I do not mean to say that I think the Indians’ conception of Heaven
more just than ours or that their life on earth is more fortunate. I
mean only that more real happiness would enter into our manner of
living if less emphasis were given to holding out hopes of future com-
pensation for hardships and sorrows endured during our earthly
existence—in a word, if the great amount of trouble and pains one
is bidden to take by way of preparation for an unsure future be

*4 Speaking always of nomadic tribes in this part of the world, not of the eastern and
Mexican Indians of an earlier period; the latter reached an advanced degree of civilization.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 153

devoted to the improvement of temporal endtions “our material
prosperity.

It is all very well, after a night’s untroubled sleep, followed by a
delicious breakfast, to preach to hungry people that they are not to
set their minds on earthly comforts. First feed the hungry, as Jesus
did, before you begin to preach.

By nature an ardent idealist, I am not one of those who give mate-
rial welfare an importance above mental and moral advancement.
I regard one equally essential with the other. Since it is true, how-
ever, that mental powers are capable of their finest development only
when the body is sound and when bodily needs are satisfied, we must
admit that material well-being is fundamentally important. When
we have given proper care to our physical health we are able to turn
our attention all the more effectively to those matters that conduce to
our spiritual advantage, thereby becoming a happier, better-contented
people, not dependent upon being consoled with hopes of happiness
to be realized only in life beyond the grave.*®

September 27. This afternoon about 50 Cree Indians, men, women,
and boys, came from a nearby village to pay us a visit. La Rossade
de Cou, La Velle Jamb, Le Couteau conducted them. These are the
first Cree I have seen. They came to beg rather than to barter—their
real purpose is to try and find out at which fort they can get the best
price for their skins and furs. They have to be attracted with gifts
and much liberality, else they trade with the Hudson Bay Co. No
Indians are admitted to trading posts in charge of English fur
traders—only what they have to sell is received there. England’s
commercial policy is here revealed in its true light—spread of civili-
zation affords a fine pretext under which to advance trade interests.

September 28. Nearly all of the Cree have left. They wear their
ancient and original dress almost entire, 1. e., garments made of
dressed skins, and buffalo robes. These people thought Mr. Denig’s
parrot a great curiosity; they found it hard to part with him. Old
and young, chiefs, braves of rank, and men of low degree were con-
stantly laughing at the bird’s remarks; though they could not under-
stand his English “How do you do?” “Pretty Polly,” etc., yet the
fact that he had spoken was sufficiently amusing.

55] have come to the realization that a man is much more prone to idealize, in his
meditations concerning the betterment of human society, if he is in comfortable circum-
stances than if he is forced to beg, not knowing even from one day to the next where he is
to sleep, where he will find food, wherewith he is to be clothed. Then the poetry of life
is lost sight of in bitterness of heart and in sorrow. Then the future is so overclouded
that not one bright ray from the clear heavens pierces through the gloom to give promise
of relief. Neither faith nor poetry relieves an empty stomach; sympathetic words just as
littla

154 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL, 115

A bird that talks must be a miraculous bird—great medicine.”
His crying, laughing, coughing, scolding, carried them out of them-
selves; they could not help laughing aloud. That Indians are inva-
riably stoical is an erroneous idea pretty generally accepted. Cer-
tainly, under given circumstances, they are; for instance, when tor-
ture is inflicted. Furthermore, in their deliberations no interruption
when one is speaking would be endured. But in their social life they
talk and laugh as we do. That an esteemed brave respects himself
and guards against doing injury to his own dignity by unbecoming
behavior, such as overloud talking and inquisitiveness, boyish laugh-
ing and chaffing, I think is perfectly proper. That is neither stoicism
nor the assumption of an official mein, but simply shows respect for
his own worth, his inherent dignity, his noble pride.

Cree are said to be most valiant warriors, excellent marksmen with
the rifle, but very cautious and pertinacious in trade. Assiniboin
excel in shooting with bow and arrow (but it must be taken into con-
sideration that they get fewer good rifles from Americans than the
former receive from the English). “Indians at this post place little
value on us whites,” says the bourgeois [Denig].

They maintain that we are capable of doing just anything for the
sake of getting buffalo robes—we lie, we cheat, we work in the dirt
even, just as their wives do. We are poor people who could not exist
without them, because we must have buffalo robes or we should
perish from cold. To impress them, therefore, on our part, we think
it best to assume a proud, reserved attitude, to act as though we
take no notice of them, and refuse to imitate them either in dress or
manner. The instant we should seek them, treat them in an intimate
free-handed manner, they would only believe that we were courting
their friendship for the sake of protection, and accordingly would
give them a more exalted idea of their importance and a more sig-
nificant proof of our own helplessness. In that event we should
have to pay dearly for their friendship and their so-called defense,
for there would be no limit to their demands. Among themselves,
Indians value liberality, “largesse”, very highly as a virtue; in con-
sequence every gift is designated, even as a “coup”, on the buffalo
robe. But generosity on the part of a paleface wins neither their
friendship nor their respect. They do not look upon a white person
as one of themselves or as a recognized friend; his liberality shows his
dependence; he seeks protection. The paleface owns no land; he is
obliged to get permission to found his fort, to trade with the native
race; and he is required to pay formal tribute for the privilege.
Accordingly, if one presented an Indian with a gift every day in the
year—this morning, a horse; tomorrow, a gun; the day after to-
morrow, a blanket; the next day, a knife; and so on until the last day

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ $55

in the year—and then might forget or simply neglect to give him
anything at all on the 865th day, he would be all the more angry
on account of the omission. The same is true of an Indian woman;
the more one gives her to win her good will, all the more convinced is
she that the donor is in her power. She does not respect him, much
less love him; only treats him kindly for the sake of the gifts. An
Indian woman must fear her husband; she then esteems him for his
manliness. She desires a warrior—no good-natured pantaloon.
Therefore several sound lashings or other rough treatment is neces-
sary from time to time to keep alive her respect and affection. Be-
sides, an Indian woman loves her white husband only for what he
possesses—because she works less hard, eats better food, is allowed to
dress and adorn herself in a better way—of real love there is no
question. After the third or fourth child, when they are getting too
old for their Indian dandies, they begin to devote themselves entirely
to the father of their children. If an Indian woman runs away, one is
not to pay the least attention to her nor to show the least grief; one
is to forget her. To go after her, to beg her to return, is beneath the
dignity of a brave—is not considered to be worth while.*?

A brave regards his wife as a purchased commodity that he may
throw aside when he chooses; that he may keep in as large numbers
as he can afford to buy and support by his hunting. The better
huntsman he is the more wild beasts he kills and the greater number
of hides he brings home. Buffalo hides when tanned constitute his
wealth, by means of which he provides himself with all that he needs.
Moreover, the more excellent the huntsman the more wives he finds
necessary; women are most skillful and quick in the preparing of
skins for sale and the buffalo meat they can use for food. It is not
strictly true, therefore, that he refuses to look at a woman unless she
be young or beautiful. He aims, to be sure, to have always apart a
dainty one for his own private pleasure, but the others are for the
most part working women—old maids or widows—who are glad to
belong to a family, for, owing to constant warfare, it all too fre-
quently happens that children lose their fathers and women lose their
husbands.°*?

If a man marries the eldest daughter of a family he has also a
priority claim on her younger sisters. If he presents one of them
with a blanket or some other more valuable gift she regards herself

56The Sioux, especially, regard it a very great honor to cast off as many wives or
sweethearts as possible; in other words, to break off marriages. I think, however, that
as this is an old-age custom, the “little wife’, for her own part, takes the matter not too
much to heart—perhaps is glad of a change.

37 Polygamy among Indians is no indication of sensuality, but simply shows their system
of labor. I have known many Indians who had only one wife and had never had any
other.

156 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

at once as bound to her brother-in-law; she belongs to him. He may
surrender her to someone else, but she is not allowed of her own accord
to listen to any other man. On the other hand, if he bestows no
gifts upon her, when she reaches a marriageable age she is free.*®

The more sisters a man has for wives the more successful the
marriage is supposed to be, because they are not acquainted with such
a thing as jealousy; they will not fight one another.

Men in charge of trading posts like to marry into prominent Indian
families when they are able to do so; by such a connection they in-
crease their adherents, their patronage is extended, and they make
correspondingly larger profits. Their Indian relatives remain loyal
and trade with no other company. They have the further advantage
of being constantly informed through their association with the for-
mer as to the demands of trade and the villiage or even the tent where
they can immediately find buffalo robes stored away. For a clerk a
woman of rank is too expensive and brings him no advantage, for the
reason that he is employed at a fixed salary and receives no further
profit. If he falls into debt he is brought under obligation to the
company.

Today I saw a Cree woman with the upper part of her body entirely
uncovered, a sign, they say, of mourning for the loss of a child. She
was walking and wore a buffalo robe. The Cree woman’s garb is
hike that of the Sauteurs women; i. e., shoulders and arms bare, skirt
held up by means of bands or straps.

When the weather is cold they put on sleeves that are knotted
together in the back at the nape of the neck and on the breast. Assini-
boin women wear frequently only one sleeve, leaving the right arm
free; they wear shirtlike skirts that, instead of being held in place by
special straps, are made to extend over the shoulders.

September 30. Have been hard at work. Had to paint, from a
inedal, the portrait of Pierre Chouteau, Jr., in the gable over the
house gallery. All day long I had to work in a most uncomfortable
position on an unsafe scaffold. Pierre Chouteau, Jr., is one of the
oldest and wealthiest shareholders in the great American Fur-
trading Company to whom Fort Union belongs.

Indians think cedars and firs the shrewdest of plants because they
keep their foliage for the winter. Not bad reasoning. A shrewd and

58 Dauxion La Vysse in his Voyage 4 Trinidad, vol. 1, p. 344, says in connection with the
Caribbean: “Ces Califournans sont polygames, comme la plupart des Indiens, et ils ont
ceci de particuliers que lorsqu’un d’eux a spouse l’amie d’une famille, il a le droit d’epouser
les soeurs cadettes a mesure quelles viennant a l’age de puberte.” The Caribbeans called
themselves Californians and claim to have come originally, at a very remote period, from
another land. For that reason D. La Vysse thinks they trace their origin to the Aztec.
He finds, also, marked similarity between the Cherokee and Gonarovun; on p. 364 he gives
instances of certain experiments in language by which S. Baron de la Hontan attempted to
trace the origin of the Algonquin speech from the Ibero-Celtic; on p. 380, D. L. refers to
the same habit among the Caribbeans of pulling out any hair that appears on their
bodies that is common among North American Indians.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 157

intelligent manager of a house, for instance, would have as his
emblem a green sprig of the fir tree. Heretofore, in our interpretation
of the flower language, only feelings, not intellectual gifts, have been
represented.

Mr. Denig asked me, among other things, whether I do not con-
sider that the Indian, in destroying all reminders of a deceased rela-
tive, in never again speaking of him by name but as “the one whom
you know”, shows more delicacy than we do in preserving remem-
brances everlastingly, in perpetually talking of grief, nourishing
sorrow, taking satisfaction in such indulgence, and thereby wasting
much precious time in wailing that should be turned to better account.

I think, really, that his instances are not well taken, for Indians not
only wail and how] for a long while by the grave of one whom they
esteemed, but, as everybody knows, they carry the departed one’s
bones themselves along with them for memorial. Furthermore, only
those among us who have nothing better or more worth while to do
waste their time in lamentation.

I found even less delicacy of feeling shown in a newly married
couple’s custom of keeping in hiding from their parents-in-law. For
instance, if a son-in-law would talk with his wife’s father and mother,
he must always speak through a closed door or else transmit his
message through a third person. He is not allowed ever to look them
in the face. In passing them he must conceal his countenance with his
hands or his blanket. If he comes unawares into their presence, he is
immediately reminded of his mistake. The same thing is required, to
some degree, of the daughter-in-law, but only in relation to her hus-
band’s parents; from her own father and mother she has nothing to
conceal. It is required, furthermore, only during the time before she
takes up her abode with her parents-in-law or in her husband’s tent.
It is very seldom that she leaves her own home during her early mar-
ried life; a son-in-law often lives with his wife’s parents, hunts for
them, and helps to support them.

Such cloaking and hiding I find ridiculous, and only indicative of
false modesty. It would show much more delicacy if the newly
wedded pair conducted themselves in a perfectly natural manner and
allowed no allusion whatsoever to their change of state. And such
observances among Indians!

To the works of Schiller, as well as those of other writers, and
particularly to Schiller’s idea of physical beauty as sign of spiritual
and moral beauty, I am indebted for my viewpoint concerning the
ideal. Schiller’s words must be understood, however, in a strictly
poetic sense; in nature, beauty of soul and physical loveliness are
only in rare instances combined. It would be deplorable if only good
people were beautiful and all the rest were not. Beauty is Nature’s
gift, an endowment that all too frequently gives rise to vanity and

158 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

leads to a person’s downfall. Kindness of heart is also a gift of
Nature, but moral excellence is the result of one’s bringing up. Per-
sonal characteristics are diverse; even from the time one is born good
qualities and bad are existent in the germ}; training and education
give direction to those inherent tendencies and very often produce
good results in their proper development. It is when life’s struggle
begins, when fair hopes of youth are not realized, when moral stand-
ards are forced into conflict with temptations, when the joy of life
itself 1s threatened with destruction, when want and misery, when
obstacles of every sort put patience and endurance to the test, then
it is that character is developed; not until then does the sunshine
of inner peace follow storm and tempest.

Fortunate are they whose lives may be compared to a voyage in
calm waters, inasmuch as they are spared much suffering; but they
will never become great or be capable of great deeds. Rarely does
a great soul attain to anything significant except through hard and
bitter experience. Now all such severe struggles, as well with the
soul’s self as with the outer world, leave their trace on the physiog-
nomy. Every talent of consequence, one’s overruling tendencies and
passions, are connected with the convolutions of the brain and are
reflected in one’s face and form. As a matter of course, preeminent
gifts, such as I have mentioned, are seldom united in one person,
but exist separately in different individuals; thus it comes about that
one may possess beauty of soul or grandeur of spirit which does not
harmonize with one’s outer form or expression. Neither Socrates nor
Alexander the Great, Caesar nor Columbus, Galileo nor Mozart,
Luther nor Shakspeare, Newton nor Raphael, Buonarotti nor Fred-
erick the Great, Voltaire nor Goethe, Schiller nor Pestalozzi, Na-
poleon nor Byron, Washington nor Vernet, was endowed with
an ideally beautiful face and form. Titian and Henry IV are
exceptions.

We imagine Christ as representing our ideal of physical beauty,
because we are so constituted that, when not prevented from doing
so by faithful portraits of the person in question, we delight in pic-
turing to ourselves physical perfection in harmony with perfection
of soul, an indisputable proof that our imaginations, even the imagi-
native faculties of uncultivated people, instinctively associate out-
ward beauty with inner goodness. Hence our conceptions of the
angels.

The most famous beauties of the ancient as well as of the modern
world were, with few exceptions, neither morally good nor endowed
with great gifts. Homer, in the early ages, gives us such examples
as Venus, Helen, Paris, etc.; and, in the modern time, we may men-
tion Maria Stewart. And what numbers of handsome men there are,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 159

have always been, who, without any significant gifts of mind, have
made themselves famous for moral grandeur.

October 1. This morning I put the finishing touches on Pierre
Chouteau, Jr.’s, portrait. In the afternoon I was free to do what I
liked, so I took my double-barreled gun under my arm and went
for a walk on the hill to enjoy the far-reaching view beyond the
Yellowstone. Then I strolled around a bit with the intention of
finding out what I could about this vicinity. As I was just getting
to the top of a hill covered with loose stones I noticed a bright spot
in motion on another height. I lay down at once to observe the
animal more closely with my telescope. I found it to be a fat cabri
buck that evidently had wind of me already, though he could not
see me. Hoping to get nearer to him, I shpped backward down the
hill and approached through a dell; soon came in sight of a herd of
antelopes that, having been given the alarm by the buck, were peering
intently about them, trotting back and forth with eager glance,
stamping their feet, blowing through their nostrils. Then they
started off, one behind the other, turned around again, and finally
took to flight, the buck in the rear. What an elegant picture! How
quickly lost to view! There was no use my attempting to pursue on
foot those shy creatures so swift in flight; I turned from the mau-
vaises terres and followed the well-beaten path Assiniboin take to
the fort.

When, with the hope of starting or finding other game, I was
forcing my way through the garden coulee (the deep bed of a dried-up
stream thickly overgrown with coppices and bushes, over against
which lies our potato garden) the thought came into my mind that
this would be an extraordinarily favorable place of concealment for
a lurking enemy. Prying sharply into the thick shrubbery on all
sides, I sprang across the now insignificant brook and was proceed-
ing with rapid strides toward the horse pasture when I heard a rus-
tling of dry leaves behind me and someone laughed. Turning
around, I saw two young Assiniboin leaping out from behind some
bushes. I stopped and cocked my gun. The elder, still laughing,
offered his hand and gave me a hearty handshake. From their
natural, friendly manner as well as from their clean and expensive
clothing I knew they were not warriors, still less enemies, though
they were doubly armed with bows, arrows, and guns, which weapons
were carried at their backs in Jeathern cases swung over the shoul-
ders. The elder drew these off over his head and gave them into
my keeping, with the remark that he would like meanwhile to ex-
amine my gun. I thought that most courteous, for, in the first place,
he dared not expect that I would suffer an exchange of weapons or
expose myself to the danger of being disarmed. But that he per-

160 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

ceived this at once and acted accordingly predisposed me in his
favor.

As I was walking along between the two brothers (their resem-
blance was striking), the younger gave me to understand, by means
of signs, that they had been watching my approach from a distance
and had immediately concealed themselves in order to startle me,
just to see how I would stare. On the impulse, I had a good mind to
give them a peppering, but I reconsidered, because, I reflected, if
they had been hostile, I should have had ere then two arrows in my
body without anybody’s having seen the murder or, perhaps, ever
finding it out. So, notwithstanding that I returned safe from this
adventure, I decided it would not be amiss to avoid in future such
dangerous places. Upon arriving at the fort I learned forthwith that
the lads were brothers of Mr. Denig’s younger wife.

During our evening meal I was warned against the peril of lonely
rambles—all the more dangerous, they said, because I was not a
hunter and therefore did not recognize signs that would betray the
possibility of an enemy lurking near. Only this spring, I was told,
a woman of the Cree Tribe set out on the longer route from this fort
to that of the opposition and, hardly a half mile from here, was slain
with arrows by Blackfeet and then scalped. The enemies had con-
cealed themselves so effectually in high grass that even the keen-eyed
Indian woman herself did not notice them, though she was only a
few paces distant.

Later in the evening Carafel related to me an adventure he had
with the Sioux, as a result of which he is still lame in one foot.
Two years ago he was told to go on horseback with Ramsay (now
with the “Dobies”’) to a settlement of ‘Assiniboin.

Five miles from here, as they were traveling through some rough
ground, they met, quite suddenly, about fifteen Sioux who came over
a hill just at the moment they themselves arrived at the spot. The
Sioux fired forthwith, wounded Carafel, who was riding ahead, from
head to foot, and killed his horse. Thereupon Ramsay ran off at full
speed. As Carafel’s horse fell to the ground his gun came under
the brute’s body and he was unable to pull it out; consequently he
was without any weapon with which to repel his assailants. So, not-
withstanding his severe wounds, he fled also. While running at full
speed his feet caught in a shrub or a tangle of tall grass and he fell.
He sprang at once to his feet again, however, for his pursuers had
already overtaken him. One of them was in the act of discharging
a gun in his face, but he had still sufficient strength to seize the
barrel and turn it aside until some blows with the butt end of the
rifle dashed him to the ground. He felt then that all was lost; and
just as he was passing into unconsciousness he said in Assiniboin,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 161

“Sioux, it takes a great many of you warriors to kill one white man.”
All at once his murderers fled from the spot. He collapsed. How-
ever, he recovered consciousness after a time and crawled to the
adobe fort, the nearest place of refuge. He is said to have made a
pitiable appearance; a bullet had grazed his foot, cutting some
ligaments to shreds. That flight of the Sioux warriors seemed to
me most extraordinary.

Mr. Denig, who had told me of the adventure earlier, explained
their behavior by taking for granted that they had supposed the two
riders to be Chippewa half-breeds, their deadly enemies, and first
became aware of their mistake when they were near enough to see
Carafel’s blonde curly hair and blue eyes; for every half-breed has,
invariably, black, straight hair and dark brown eyes. They left
Carafel prostrate and without assistance, notwithstanding their
friendship—nay, blood relationship—to the Assiniboin, because they
thought he was dead and feared they might draw vengeance upon
themselves if they were known to have done the deed.®®

Indians believe in spirits, and though they have never yet had any
visible evidence of such things, they talk with them and take counsel.
They think that spirits follow them, not on the ground but about 2
feet above.

Mr. Denig says to me frequently: “When you go to the Blackfeet
territory”, etc. Dare I hope that I shall go so far, that Mr. Culbert-
son will take me with him?

October 2. After dinner Mr. Denig came to my room and asked me
to accompany him on a cabri hunt. He had just seen from the gate
seven of those antelopes in one herd grazing on a hill. To be sure,
what he saw were only white spots moving about. But Mr. Denig is
keen-sighted and well practiced in interpreting signs on the prairie;
he takes much pride in the fact that even his wives have not as good
eyesight as he. He conducted me to the garden coulee that we might
get out of the wind, which was blowing over the hill from the west.
We hurried along up the brook bed, but with the utmost caution, in
crder to get around on the other side of the hill on which the ante-
lopes were feeding. Having arrived there, the bourgeois took off his
coat and hat, examined his priming pan, and crept up the hill, but not
without first giving me instructions to remain perfectly still, not to
spoil his sport by noise due to overhaste.

Still, in my eagerness to see something, and maybe to get a chance
to take a shot also, I crawled to the nearer entrance to the little coulee,
took my hat off, and lay down in the grass. Some of the animals were
quietly grazing; the others lay unconcerned on the ground. Un-
luckily, Mr. Denig was obliged to content himself with killing a

59 Ramsay is in reality a metif or half-breed.

162 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY — [BUEL. 115

female antelope © that was in a position that left her flank exposed.
At the report of the gun, all the rest took flight, unfortunately, to the
other side of the valley.

The cabri that had been shot made two desperate leaps and fell
dead. Still the buck was lingering to muster in the remaining doe,
but Mr. Denig had got to his feet, had allowed himself to be seen, had
not reloaded his gun; the shy buck took to flight. We hurried over to
our quarry; the bullet had pierced her heart—had gone directly
through her breast. I bound her dainty feet together and took her
on my shoulders, completely encircling my neck, and carried her to
my room. I felt her warm blood soak through my clothes and flow
down my back. Upon reaching the fort I laid her out on the floor
and immediately set about painting my first antelope. Mr. Denig’s
wives were waiting around, most impatient to prepare the little
animal for food, but I had not brought it a distance of 3 miles for the
purpose of satisfying myself with an incomplete study.

October 8. Just before dinner Packinaud was brought home in a
cart wounded. He and Mackenzie rode out yesterday on a buffalo
hunt, but found nothing until early this morning. As both of these
men are ambitious to be thought the best hunter for buffaloes, they
galloped full tilt into the herd. Now, Packinaud, who was riding
John, had the advantage of the better mount, for John is an excellent
and enduring traveler, only too unruly for some riders.

The instant he is given the reins he is in full gallop; never needs
to be urged on; never gradually relaxes speed; his first spring meas-
ures all of 21 feet. When, as I said, the two hunters were nearing
the buffalo herd, John tore off, neighing for joy. Andre, although
himself a good runner, is not so spirited, and therefore more easily
guided. Because he is not so impetuous and powerful, his rider is
much more sure of hitting the object aimed at—of securing his victim.
Well, John, in his mad rush, carried Packinaud into the midst of the
herd and crowded him so closely between two buffalo bulls that he
could not get his gun in a position to fire. At the same time one of
the bulls turned aside, but the other tossed his head with a jerk, made
a pass with one horn through his pursuer’s left shin bone, and stuck
the other into the fleshy part of the horse’s breast, bringing him to a
halt. Meanwhile, Mackenzie had already killed a cow and was fol-

60 J was much astonished to see no horns among the female antelopes that I have had
opportunity to observe at Fort Pierre. I was all the more surprised at this for the
reason that both Bodmer and Catlin represent their antelopes (cabris) with horns alike,
which in itself seems unnatural. JI have seen positively no female cabris with horns.
Are there two different species, or are the artists in error? They made the mistake of
representing buffalo herds consisting only of bulls—no cows. I must admit, however,
that one does see small droves of bulls only, but this does not apply to the cabri bucks.
Neither did Aubudon know of female cabris without horns. Nevertheless, I am absolutely

sure that neither the doe that was killed nor her companions showed any sign of growing
horns.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 163

lowing closely behind Packinaud when the latter was stopped, passed
him, and fired on the bull, which immediately tumbled over. Our
wounded man now called Mackenzie to his assistance. Mackenzie
sent the Spaniard immediately to the fort to bring a cart. ‘They
think P.’s shin bone is broken.

After dinner nothing to do. Weather ideal; temperature mild.
Who could restrain himself from taking a walk?

Danger? Well, anyone who stands in fear has no need to come into
these wilds; all the more necessary, being here, that one explore
carefully the whole region—know the ground. What I lack in keen-
sightedness and acute hearing I shall endeavor to offset with courage.
If I only had better eyesight how I should enjoy this life. Would
not desire a better lot than to roam around, now on foot, now on
horseback, with sketch book and gun. Just now, when I have over-
come the most difficult hindrance and my life purpose is so near
fulfillment, it is impossible for me to think that my life should be in
peril. Hethat believeth * * * shall besaved. The image of that
graceful cabri buck hovered ever before my eyes. I was much inclined
to go in search of him again. As I had seen the little band several
times already in the neighborhood of that brackish stream, I turned
my steps thither, stumbled upon several wolves, but in the end came
across fresh tracks in the sandy soil—they had been made by ante-
lopes! Following them, I mounted the hill. As I was not expecting
to meet the animals so near at hand, I was too incautious and showed
myself to them really before I was aware of their presence. To be
sure, I ducked instantly to the ground, but away they went over
mountain and vale, and all was over with my cabri hunt. I re-
proached myself severely for my carelessness, my inconvenient habit
of indulging in dreams, inopportune musings.

After deciding to hunt antelopes, and then giving my exclusive
attention to their tracks, successfully approaching and meeting with
the animals, even my very habits as painter caused me to frighten
them by showing myself too soon and to lose my chance to study the
habits and postures of those beasts of the chase. In vain I searched
for them with my telescope. I could not find them any more. But I
did get sight of a herd of grazing buffaloes several miles off, and I
enjoyed watching them. Now, I said to myself, if I am unable to
steal up on them, that is convincing proof I have no talent for hunt-
ing. Then I hurried through the many dells and tiny valleys and
around the hill to the buffaloes. Concealed in grass or shrubs of
wormwood, I peered this way and that over a hill crest, fearing that
the animals had already run away. Finally, with beating heart, I
crept up the iast steep incline of a ridge, crawled on my belly to the
edge of the plateau, and I saw the herd hardly 30 feet distant from
me. There were thirteen bulls and one calf. Several birds, about the

164 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

size of a dove, with white bodies and blue-gray wings (magpies?)
were sitting on the animals’ humps in the midst of the thick, shaggy
hair, picking off vermin. One of the bulls pleased me immensely
with his odd appearance; he was almost totally black and much
more shaggy than the others. Tufts of hair on his forelegs, above
his forehead, and under his chin dangled about with his slightest
movement.

When viewed from the rear, the front part of him, all overgrown
with bushy hair that rose high above his hump, seemed to have noth-
ing at all in common with his hinder parts—seemed not to belong
to the same beast. For a long while I lay stretched at full length in
the grass, completely absorbed in a detailed study of those beasts.
In my pleasure as painter I forgot entirely the role of hunter, though
I might have had an excellent chance to shoot the black imp through
the heart. After a time they went on farther, sliding down the steep
descent to a narrow path on the other side that led through a defile.
Then I was eager to fire upon them; to forego such an opportunity
would, indeed, show lack of skill. Knowing that buffaloes go up
hill not nearly so rapidly as they go down, I made a detour over
ground covered with rocks and bowlders, through deep hollows,
brambles, and thorn, in order to reach the pass and take them in the
flank. As the sun was already low and I was a considerable dis-
tance from home, I had no time to lose, so I concealed myself behind
a great rock just at the point where the defile opens upon the prairie,
the place where, as I have already related, Mackenzie shot the first
buffalo on the day he went hunting with me. The black fellow was
one of the last to pass me. I fired. He turned aside and ran off at
a gallop, the others with him.

Expecting to see the wounded bull fall, I remained where I was,
neglecting to discharge my second barrel upon him. He refused,
however, to do me the favor of falling dead; he continued to run—
perhaps he is still in flight. I reloaded and hurried around the Butte
de Mackenzie (as the old cowherd named this hill and the nearby
pass from the word butto and in memory of Mackenzie’s father, who
used to be manager at Fort Union) to the road leading to our trading
post. There I saw a rider who was waving his cap to me; I waved
mine in return, and then I recognized Mackenzie. Ah! I thought,
they have also caught sight of the herd from the fort, have mounted
at once and sent ahead the pack horses. It was evidently true; other
horsemen came into view, followed by the riderless pack horses.
Mackenzie, whose chase I had spoiled, of course, caught a glimpse of
still another queer old fellow taking his ease alone on the prairie.
Better fresh meat, though a little tough, than none at all, he said, and
gave Andre the reins. There was a tendril of up-curling smoke, and
the buffalo fell to the ground. I had now been discovered by Joe

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 165

Dolores, our horse guard, who sprang down from his nag, fastened
the long halter to one of the pack horse’s forefeet in order to force
him to stand, and called out to me to mount and follow. Not a bad
idea. To be sure, a pack saddle is far from being a comfortable
seat, a lariat a sorry bridle, but walking alone over a wide prairie at
night is still less agreeable.

I swung myself upon the horse and he galloped forward, of his own
accord, to join his comrades. Upon coming up with the others, I
found that they had already stripped off the buffalo’s hide on one side,
had cut off the hind legs, bound together the tendons and thrown
them across a packhorse; had distributed the choice bits in accord-
ance with hunters’ prerogatives and were ready to start back to the
fort. Night fell. Mackenzie and I hurried forward. The Spaniard
took advantage of the darkness to filch from a neighboring hill a
tanned white calfskin that had been hung there by an Indian as a
votive offering to the sun. He came up with us again at full gallop,
however, before we rode into our courtyard.

Mr. Denig was much relieved in mind to see me again; he feared
that I might have lost my way, might have got bewildered in the
rough, trackless wilds, or else had met with an accident. So, with the
hope of directing my attention to the location of the fort he had given
orders several times that guns be fired. His two young brothers-in-
law expressed the intention of going in search of me at daybreak, if
in the meantime I should not have returned. I offered him for ex-
cuse my irresistible delight in being in the buffalo region, where I
could make a thorough study quite comfortably of those wild beasts.

“That is the way with all you people with your hobbies and favorite
occupations; in your eager zeal you discard prudence altogether.
Then when an accident happens we have to bear the blame. A report
is immediately spread abroad in the States that the dead man was
rich, that he was killed for his money, or if he was poor, that his
death was due to jealousy or some such motive.”

October 4. The Blackfeet tribe on this side of the Rocky Moun-
tains is estimated to have 1,500 tents and approximately 4,000 war-
riors; Crows, 440 tents and 1,200 braves; Assiniboin in this vicinity,
420 tents and as many as 1,050 braves; farther north on Winnipeg
Lake, from 200 to 300 tents; Cree or Knistenaux, who trade here,
occupy 150 tents, but the entire tribe is said to amount to 800 tents;
Arikara are reckoned to have 600 warriors in 300 tents; Chippewa,
3,000 tents; and Sioux, 4,000. Pawnee and Arikara, and Assiniboin
and Sioux,° are not from the same parent stock. Mandan, above
Fort Clarke, have 16 tents (lodges), only 7 of which are occupied;
together with those who live with the Grand Mandan, among the

a Pawnee and Arikara belong to Caddoan stock; Assiniboin and Sioux belong to Siouan
stock,

166 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Herantsa Tribe, they numbered 45 men before the recent cholera
epidemic.

Mr. Denig came upon me while I was working on a sketch of my
feminine beau ideal. He was extraordinarily pleased with the form
and wished to have it painted at once, so that he might hang the
picture on the wall in the reception room. He could not forbear his
bad jest, however, concerning my hard task in attempting to portray
a naked human figure so divine, so exalted, that 1t would make no
appeal to the sensual. He made me feel sick; I was, therefore, not
willing to expose my ideal to further remark. But I know that I
must accustom myself to this conclusion: There will always be ordi-
nary people who see in the nude only physical attraction, not spirit.
A moi mon ideal!

October 5. After Mr. Denig and I had washed and dressed Packi-
naud’s wound he brought the conversation round to the name of a
Herantsa woman who is called “Fifty.” On her account fifty men
suffered the penalty °* because she ran away from her husband twice,
all on the same evening. For like misdoing, fifteen paid the penalty
on account of an Assiniboin woman. Carafel happened to be in the
camp at the time and had been invited to join them but declined.**
The latter woman, from indulgence in the practice for such a long
time, lost the use of her legs. In Belle Vue I saw a Pawnee woman
who had been taken prisoner on the prairie by thirty Omaha braves
and so abused by all thirty of them that she remained a cripple for
life.

It was there also that I heard the story of fifty Comanche hav-
ing abused a white prisoner in like manner and then left her in such
a wretched condition that she was found again by her people maimed
and insane. Indian women do not so easily lose their reason, at
least from such causes, because, I think, they are less afraid and
defy pain.

Now and then Indians give what is properly called a glutton feast.
Everyone invited is served with an unusually large portion of meat.
To the incessant tattoo of the drum they devour what is placed before
them. The one who first swallows his portion is victor; the one who
fails to do so is required to get rid of what is left by paying a
forfeit, i. e., by presenting a gift.

Whether from excess of joy over their triumph or from hate,
Indians bite into the flesh of slain enemies, but this occurs only in
their rage immediately following a battle; they do not go as far as
the Aztec and eat their victims.

Mr. Denig came again to see the sketch of my ideal human figure,
repeated his obscene remarks, and expressed again his desire to pos-

61 An evident euphemism.
“1a Briefly, a rape en masse.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 167

sess a painting of it. When he received, on the contrary, a curt
refusal, he found only faults in my conception of feminine loveli-
ness—she looked ugly, was much too thin, etc. I replied that I would
much rather hear him find fault with the sketch than to listen to
coarse remarks. ‘To paint a nude figure merely for the sake of ap-
pealing to his carnal passions and those of other men was beneath
my dignity. For the painting of other objects I was entirely at his
service, but I would not paint this * * *,

October 7. For a moment there arose such unusual noise made by
Indian women and children at the rear gate that everyone rushed
down to the river bank with the expectation of witnessing Mr. Cul-
bertson’s arrival. The excitement was occasioned, however, only by
the sight of an Indian with his wife getting ready to swim with their
two horses across the Missouri. One of our Assiniboin swam to the
sand bank and demanded to know who he was. As we supposed, he
was Herantsa, not Absaroka. With the aid of my telescope I was
enabled to watch his interesting preparations. He accomplished the
crossing of the river in a similar manner to that described by me
earlier when I swam across the Papillon. By means of a dried buffalo
hide they formed a sort of flatboat on which they placed the saddles
and their personal belongings and to which they fastened a long cord.
While he was carrying the skin boat and leading his horse into the
water his woman, screened by her own nag, stripped herself naked
and, driving the horse before her to the river brink, gave over her
clothes to her husband, who thrust them underneath their goods and
chattels. Then, with powerful strokes, he started over, holding be-
tween his teeth his horse’s leather lariat and the long cord with which
he pulled the boat after him. His wife followed, guiding her nag
in the same manner. They reached the shore on this side without
the least trouble. For the sake of keeping on good terms with my
bourgeois I began to paint another female figure, but not entirely in
the nude.

October 8. An Assiniboin to-day brought the first news I have
received from Fort Berthold since I left. Avrikara are still dying,
he says, like flies under frost. The survivors are in a fury; have
razed the block houses of the opposition and stolen their goods;
Dorson found it necessary to bring into action his great guns
(4-pound cannons) in order to protect himself from the same fate.
If this be true, Dorson has no further prospect of trading with the
Arikara. Nothing is left for him to do but ship his goods to Fort
Pierre. No further illness is reported among the Herantsa.

Indians do not value time at all; among them the idea does not
prevail that time is money. They estimate the price, therefore, for
the work they do, irrespective of the time they take in the accom-
plishment of it. Besides, they must be doing something; otherwise

81634—37——12

168 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

they would find the days entirely too long and tedious; consequently
they work rather to kill time than to derive profit therefrom. They
live at random, generally speaking, without purpose in life, so they
do not have to regard time as capital; on the contrary, they find it
more frequently a burden. I get forward leisurely with my pictures.
There is no haste. The more easily I appear to paint, the less my
work is valued.

What costs little is regarded as of little worth. We had a proof of
that not long ago. An Assiniboin came to get medicine for eye
trouble. He expected the charge to be nothing less than a buffalo robe,
or perhaps a horse, just as he would have been required to pay to their
jugglers or doctors. But, as it happened, he received the remedy as a
gift. He uttered no thanks nor would he use the eye water; had no
longer any confidence in its healing power. This reminds me of the
first English people who visited Switzerland after the fall of
Napoleon. In their own land everything was dear; at first, only the
wealthy families went to the continent. So at that time they found
the innkeeper’s prices too low. They were not pleased with anything.
They were constantly asking “How much?” “Can’t be good at that
price.” The landlords were not slow to adjust matters; they kept on
demanding more, until their meals were relished. Now, it’s just the
other way—the English come to Switzerland in order to save, for on
an income that is hardly sufficient to supply necessities in Old England
they can lead a merry life in our country.

Fort Union, situated on the steep bank of a river on the open
prairie, exposed to every wind that blows from any point of the com-
pass, is said to be the coldest place of all the posts belonging to this
company—even as cold as those situated on Hudson Bay.

October 9. Sitting before a jolly open fire, by the side of the
wounded Packinaud, while a cold, strong wind howled in the court-
yard without, I listened to amusing adventures related by Carafel,
who was today in fine humor. One of his stories interested me more
than the others because I know most of the people concerned. ‘The
hero is that sly dog Vilandre (Carafel, a born Canadian, always says
Vilandra, engagir, une fua, etc.). He is equally well-known for a
tiptop trapper, trader, and hunter, and for a reckless spendthrift not
overscrupulous as to honesty. One day old Gre and his comrade hired
Vilandre to go along with them and trap beavers in the vicinity of
Blackfeet (Pieds Noirs) territory. On the way his two masters quar-
reled all the time, never agreed with each other about anything, and
finally brought matters to such a pass that our hero could stand it
no longer. He said to them:

“Now, here, this won’t do. You two never agree; after this fashion
we shall accomplish nothing. Two masters for one hired man is a bad

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 169

arrangement; it is better for me to employ both of you. Sell me your
horses and traps, and I will pay you later on in beaver skins.”

They traded. From the hunt they realized an unusually large
profit; it was, you see, in the good old days. They brought back
between 400 and 500 bundles of ten skins each.

Colonel Mitchell, the present U.S. agent of the Indian Department
in St. Louis, was then bourgeois at Fort Union. When he saw the
three trappers approaching he went forward to meet the two old
traders, paying no attention to Vilandre, who was leading the way
with two heavily laden horses. He knew nothing of the later agree-
ment and intended, of course, to make himself agreeable to those who
went out in charge of affairs, congratulate them upon their success-
ful hunt, and invite them in. Vilandre passed on by the employees
of the company who were standing beside the gate, curiously looking
on, while waiting to receive the packets. He carried his head as high
as did the bourgeois himself. And imagine the astonishment of the
latter when he saw Vilandre haughtily pass the gate!

“What! You will not trade with me?” he asked the old “grum-
blers.”

“The beaver skins belong to Vilandre, not to us.”

The expressions of certain faces immediately changed—business
took a different turn altogether. Mr. Denig, clerk at that time, was
dispatched at once to present his compliments to Vilandre and ask
him to unload his pelts here. In the end he relented. As he rode
up to the gate he caught sight of a splendid girl, daughter of old
Garion by an Indian woman. He was much pleased with her, and
said to himself, “This night you shall be mine.”

He sold his furs, which were bringing high prices at that time,
paid his quasi-employers forthwith, clothed himself throughout in
new apparel, assumed the arrogance of the devil, and bought a great
number of articles for gifts. When the horses were brought in from
the pasture in the evening and corraled (put in an open stall), he took
his best runner and, leading him to Garion, said brusquely, “Take
him. He is yours!” Garion, suspecting at once what Vilandre’s
purpose was, demurred. “Holy Virgin,” shouted Vilandre, “am I
such a poor man that I can’t afford to give away a horse? Haven't
I still my little gray?”

Thereupon he stroked the gray horse caressingly, without bestow-
ing even a glance upon the beautiful girl near him. But he sent a
friend a little later to Garion asking his daughter in marriage. Her
father consented on condition that a marriage contract be drawn up
in writing and signed. Well and good. Vilandre went at once to
Moncrevier (now with the Pawnee), requesting the draft of an agree-
ment that, when read aloud, would contain all the usual expressions

170 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

and requirements, but with this difference: A provision was to be
inserted permitting him to leave the bride whenever he chose.

Moncrevier, a sort of wag, found much pleasure in anticipation
of the impending wedding feast and made all things ready. Garion
was satisfied; his daughter, who received many presents, was con-
tent; and Vilandre on the same night, after his return to the fort,
was in possession of his beautiful bride.

How long do you think he kept her? One entire winter. When
he determined to send her away he set her on a good horse and
presented her with abundant apparel as well as provisions.

“Holy Virgin”, he cried, “when I bid farewell to my wife, whom
I am casting off, I will not take the shirt from her back. I put her
on a horse and supply her with goods. I don’t mind the loss of a
beaker ° of coffee.”

I have finished the picture I was painting. While working on it I
was often set laughing by Mr. Denig’s remarks. At every stroke of
the brush he found fault, just as with the other one. I let him
chatter, because his judgment is in no sense authoritative so far as I
am concerned. In other matters I strive to please him.

Finally when the meaning of the picture began “to be apparent”
he began to understand and became then just as much concerned for
fear I might spoil what I had done well. “Don’t touch it again.
You will certainly ruin it. Stop! Stop!” And so on.

Indian word for “friend”: taro (Iowa), digahau (Omaha), kondah
(Sioux), kuna (Assiniboin), marequa (Crow and Herantsa), nz¢-
schuwa (Cree), sthuan (Arikara), manuka (Mandan). oki in
Pawnee means “stone”; gaggi in Arikara means “bad.”

October 10. Have cleared up everything; the bourgeois has all
now that he desires from me as painter. Mr. Culbertson is to decide
upon his arrival whether I go with him or remain here, and what,
on the whole, my occupation shall be in future. To give me an idea
of the easy-going manner in which Indians frequently count a “coup”,
Mr. Denig told how, once upon a time when Sioux and Assiniboin
were at war with each other, a band of sixty warriors marched up to
the gate before he was able to get it closed. Luckily, aside from
the married women there was only one Assiniboin here, a boy whom
he confined under lock and key in a small room just above the one
I now occupy. The secret was soon found out; a woman divulged it
to one of the braves, who came forthwith to Mr. Denig and offered
both his gun and richly decorated robe if in return he might only
shake the boy’s hand.

62 Mug, cup, tin drinking cup, but used also for measuring sugar, coffee, and meal, It
holds a pint. Coffee struck off level with the top, sugar or meal heaped up, is reckoned a
pound.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ LV

He would take no weapon at all with him, and even desired Mr.
Denig’s presence. But the latter refused, saying to the Indian brave,
“If you wish to count ‘coup’ you are to seek the occasion in battle.”

Mr. Denig spent his first year in this business at Fort Pierre under
Mr. Ludlow. One summer he had to go out on the prairie with
several Sioux to hunt in order to get meat. As soon as they came near
the buffaloes they pitched their tents, one for him and his wife, a
second for their relatives, a third for the remainder of the company.
All the men except himself left the tents and went out at once to
hunt buffaloes. As they stayed away longer than was expected, he
took a walk about the settlement to find out where the hunters were.
Soon he discovered several buffalo bulls rushing directly upon the
camp. He hurried into his tent to get his rifle. Meanwhile his
mother-in-law had gone in there and was standing nearest him when
he entered and called in haste for the gun, which the old woman
handed to him. He killed two bulls. For several weeks afterwards
he was the butt for all jokes, because he had spoken directly to his
mother-in-law. He should have called to her from without the tent,
but was in such haste that he did not for a moment realize that he was
not speaking to his wife. Jokes are rare among Indians and survive
so much the longer. Even from constant repetition they lose nothing
here.

Once during a war between the Herantsa and Assiniboin Tribes six-
teen Herantsa braves on a visit to the Crows passed here that they
might be put across the Missouri as good customers of the Big Com-
pany. They had hardly seated themselves in the office when a band of
Assiniboin arrived. Mr. Denig was greatly disquieted for fear of
conflict when the two hostile bands stood face to face. He required
both chiefs to promise him at once that they would regard the fort,
at Jeast, as neutral ground. He desired, moreover, to bring about
peace between the two nations. So when the most distinguished of
the Assiniboin entered the office he offered the pipe. The chief of the
Herantsa refused to smoke the pipe, notwithstanding that he was
surrounded by the enemy in superior numbers. Mr. Denig threat-
ened to show him the door: “He should make the effort.” After the
hostile parties had grimly surveyed one another as long as they liked
the Herantsa walked proudly but quietly out to the gate with a
challenge to the others to follow them.

Fur traders to the same company are brought many times into
relations strangely complicated. Indians look upon fur traders who
have an established post and carry on business with them as one of
themselves, but a fur trader to the same company, established in the
domain of their enemy, they regard more or less as a foe. Even the
most intelligent among them, such as “Four Bears” (Quatre Ours). |

172 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

can not understand why white people who go from here to the Arikara
or Blackfeet, enemies of the Assiniboin, should not be treated by
them as enemies; for instance, why Charboneau at Fort Berthold was
unjustified in firing upon the same Sioux who came from Fort Pierre;
why one is not permitted here to fire upon members of the Blackfeet
Tribe merely because they carry on trade with palefaces at another
fort, yet do not hesitate to rob any white person whom they might
find traveling alone from this fort. Fur traders are not liked; merely
endured because they barter things necessary to supply the Indians’
wants. They are required by every tribe that grants them the right
and the ground for a fort to furnish protection and assistance in any
conflict with enemies (inside the fort only). Fur traders are to re-
gard the foes of Indians with whom they deal as their own foes.
Only those carrying on trade on their own account, not for a company
doing an extensive business, would find it possible to agree to such
terms; nor would those independent traders be allowed to deal with
any other than that especial tribe and their friends.

On a recent journey from Fort Benton to this post Mackenzie met
a war-like band of Blackfeet on the lookout for Assiniboin. He
was alone, but fortunately he was riding John, famous among the
tribes of this section for the swift pace at which he can travel. As
Mackenzie thought he had nothing to fear from the approaching
Blackfeet he did not evade the warriors. They surrounded him,
asked him all sorts of questions, and, declaring him to be an Assini-
boin, demanded his horse, his gun, and his knife. He did not ac-
quiesce in those demands, of course, but sought to get rid of the
redskins by cunning and then give John his head. He protested to
the Blackfeet that the company’s steamboat was nearby on the river;
he had been sent to meet the steamer and deliver important tidings.
They wished now to see the boat. They rode forward a mile to a
neighboring hill, from the summit of which they could get a view
of the Missouri. Meanwhile, Mackenzie made them a present of
some tobacco. At the first favorable moment he put spurs to John,
who with a frightful bound galloped off and away. Mackenzie
knew that the braves would neither overtake him on their saddle
horses nor make any attempt on his life.

When two Indians who are not hostile meet on their wanderings
they stop usually several paces apart and question each other as to
whence they come, what news they bring, whether anything unusual
was noticed along the path, whether they met anybody.

If either reports news of significance, they sit down together and,
if possible, smoke a pipe of tobacco. As a rule the younger offers the
pipe to the older and concedes to him also the privilege of beginning

68 After all, it is easy to understand that no tribe likes to see the same company with
whom they deal sell arms and ammunition to their enemies.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 173

the cross-questioning. If one of them has before him the way along
which the other has come, he is warned concerning every trace, every
significant indication of danger near at hand. If he has found no
sign of anything to fear, the other goes on all the more unconcerned.
Indians never greet each other with handshake or nod; neither do
they wish one another good day or good morning. If they are well
acquainted, but still have nothing further to say, they give their
watchword “hou!”

A stranger who approaches an Indian settlement or village where
strangers are rarely seen, has not long to wait before he knows in
what direction his course lies. As he can never come unexpectedly
into a village without having been discovered beforehand by either
the busy or the idle inhabitants, a soldier is immediately on hand to
receive him and conduct him to the soldiers’ or assembly lodge. This
is the largest hut in the settlement and serves as meeting place for
their deliberative assembly or council as well as for the soldiers’
guardroom. There all important news is discussed and decisions
arrived at concerning the chase, war, and wanderings.

No woman is allowed to enter the lodge. There the stranger will
be received, then questioned concerning his purpose in coming and
the information he is able to give.

A soldier is in every case a brave who has already distinguished
himself—counts several “coups.” He is always more or less tattooed ;
1. e., figures, lines, or points are made with a needle on his skin and
then rubbed over with powder or coal dust, so that the tattoo marks
assume a blue-black color. Indians in this region are not tattooed
over the entire body, but usually on the throat and breastbone or over
the chest and shoulders, sometimes on the shoulders and arms or
merely on the forearm or on the shin, the latter, however, being
decorated only with large dots, hoofprints, or spear heads. ‘They
never tattoo their backs, for a warrior, as you know, does not mani-
fest by his hinder part that he is a brave. Women and girls wear
tattoo marks by means of which they make known the nation to which
they belong; for example, many Iowa girls have a large dot between
their eyebrows. Frequently they decorate themselves with two dots,
one above the other, as Witthae did. One point is said to signify
that the person in question has given away ten horses; two points, that
she has given away twenty.*

That may have been the custom originally, but many of these girls
so marked would have been glad to own, once in her lifetime, one good

*& But what did they signify at an earlier period, when Indians did not possess horses?
It is certain that pricking or tattooing the skin was practiced in primitive times. Tattoo-
ing was the naked primitive man’s first means of decoration, of distinguishing himself.
His artist was well paid for the work, sometimes receiving even an ordinary horse. When
people began to wear clothes tattoo marks were not so much the vogue.

174 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

sound horse. Hauwepine was the only girl whom I knew among the
Iowa Tribe having tattoo marks on the breast—a trapeze extending
from the base of the throat to the pit of the stomach. Sauteurs
women, on the other hand, branded themselves by means of one, two,
or three lines diverging from the corners of the mouth toward the
chin. Soldiers are recognized, first of all, by their tattoo marks;
also by their bearing, their dignified demeanor and their especial
manner of wearing the buffalo robe or blanket. The latter they throw
about the body in such a way that the right shoulder, breast, and arm
remain free, and that part of the robe which is supposed to cover the
right shoulder they draw under the right arm and hold in place with
the left hand. Thus they form a drapery that falls in natural but at
the same time majestic and graceful folds, the most beautiful drapery
for the human body that I know. Indians, in addition to their pas-
sion for ornamentation, are adepts with their small hands in giving
the blankets a graceful swing.

They have this art at their fingers’ ends. In this, as in other things,
practice makes perfect. They take not the slightest pains to produce
an effect; rarely arrange their blankets from any motive other than
their own comfort. They wear only their ornamented buffalo robes
to make a show. The Indians’ blankets are never clumsy or un-
wieldy; whether they hang freely over the shoulders, are drawn up
over the head so as to wrap the body closely, or are allowed to drag
on the ground, they are always soft and pliable.

All well-proved braves are soldiers; they serve as police force and
as advisory council for their camp. Their regulations for maintain-
ing order are strictly observed. They have due respect for their own
law. They devise the method also of punishing the refractory—may
inflict beatings or even the death penalty. Their decisions are pro-
claimed by a crier; for instance, suppose that buffaloes are discovered
in the vicinity; now, if one individual hunter should set out after
them, he would drive them away before the other huntsmen arrived,
and so lessen their chances for means of livelihood.

Consequently, individual Indians are not permitted to go on the
chase from a settlement or camp except in pursuit of animals found
singly—never in pursuit of a herd. As soon as the news of approach-
ing wild beasts is received, the soldiers assemble at once for delibera-
tion as to the time and the manner in which the hunt is to be con-
ducted (it frequently happens that most of the soldiers are on the
war path, but some of the older ones always remain at home, the
number depending upon the size of the camp). After their decision
has been publicly made known, every huntsman, the most distin-
guished as well as the poorest, gets himself ready and they enclose the
herd in a circle. Woe be unto the man who, in overhaste, attacks

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 175

inopportunely and upsets the plan; his horse will be shot dead from
under him or his weapons will be broken in splinters.

Every fur trader selects several of the most highly esteemed sol]-
diers, upon whom he bestows rich gifts for the sake of having their
protection both for himself and his goods. Asa rule, each fur trader
lives in the tent of one of his protectors. When we stopped on the
St. Ange at Fort Pierre, it happened that a band of Teton Sioux
were encamped near the fort.

A group of a dozen soldiers in grand array greeted us first with a
salvo, then came on board to welcome their acquaintances, and finally
kept watch over the cargo that had been put ashore. What a welcome
prize they were for me! A dog was shot instantly through the heart
because he was in the act of lifting his leg against the piles of goods.
Women and children were standing in a group apart, curiously
scrutinizing the white strangers.

Every year upon the steamer’s arrival those soldiers are there in
their military garb to welcome representatives of the company with
whom they do business. Yanktonai were awaiting us on a bluff,
where they had raised the United States flag. We found it difficult
to land there, but were obliged to accomplish it, nevertheless, for
politeness’ sake. Those Yanktonnais, in full array, made the most
original group I ever saw. The chief, carrying a tobacco pipe in his
hand, stood on a crest of the bluff that had been washed smooth like
a high pedestal, and round about him, at the river’s edge, stood his
braves, in various postures. After the warriors’ welcoming scene was
over the women were allowed to descend first and come aboard.

As a matter of course, every soldier has a family, of which he is
chief. He loves his children extraordinarily. His word of admoni-
tion must suffice; he never inflicts corporal punishment upon them.
He sets a good example for his son as to how he is to conduct himself
as a future brave. He impresses upon his daughters the virtues of
modesty and chastity but leaves their training, in the main, under
their mother’s care. It frequently happens that, for the sake of
household peace and order, a soldier gives his quarreling wives a beat-
ing. In his own tent he assigns to each member of the family a place
to sleep and a place at the fireside just as he does for visitors and
guests. As head of a family he dares play no tricks in his own tent,
especially with his small children. For that sort of thing a soldier’s
hut is chosen, where neither women nor children come; there he seeks
his recreation, laughs, sings, plays, smokes, dances, and thoroughly
enjoys himself, so long as there is no matter under consideration
before the council. Then “decorum” is strictly required.

When the man of the house, father or brother, has slain the wild
beasts and brought them home, his duty as such is done. Women

176 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

take off the skins and dry them, prepare the flesh for food, get ready
the fire, take care of their children, make the clothes—all women’s
duties and pleasures, in fact, are distinctly designated for them.

No woman has any voice in the council, is ever listened to, or her
advice followed, not even one who has made herself conspicuous for
bravery, as not infrequently happens when a village is taken by sur-
prise. Women spend their hours of recreation in looking after their
children, visiting, chatting with one another, singing, dancing, in
making clothes, painting and adorning themselves, and with affairs
of love. They have a share in the dressed skins, which they ex-
change for clothes, ornaments, and dainty titbits. Their sweethearts’
gifts are usually dainties and handsome pelts from the hunt. Sis-
ters have a claim on everything that a brother or brother-in-law
possesses. For instance, an Indian comes riding into camp and meets
a sister (sister-in-law and brother-in-law are called sister and brother,
just as uncle and aunt are called father and mother); she expresses
a wish for the horse he is riding; he springs down forthwith and gives
her the beast, even though it might be his best racer. Such a pro-
ceeding, however, is held to be contrary to right and justice. Girls
prefer, for the most part, a dappled horse to those of any other color,
because they strike the eye and are easily distinguishable from all
others.

Men’s employments are confined to keeping their weapons in order,
making ornaments for the hair, taking care of their horses, hunting,
and waging war. That they have bettered their lot by contact with
fur traders, the following facts prove: For one buffalo robe they
received 60 loads of powder and shot; for 6-10 robes, a gun, which
may or may not be a good one but is always fit for use. So for one
robe he gets in return a sufficient number of shots to kill at least fifty
of the larger or smaller fur-bearing animals. To grind and polish
one single arrowhead from flint rock he would require three days—
a longer time than an Indian woman needs to prepare a buffalo hide.
The latter has this advantage: that it can be discharged without
noise and can be used any number of times, but at a distance of more
than fifty feet the hunter is no longer sure of hitting a small object.*°

Mr. Denig declares that the drinking of whisky does Indians no
harm whatever. To be sure, here as elsewhere, brawls and murders
not infrequently occur as a result of drinking, but wild Indians think
nothing of such things as that. On the other hand, they were more
reliable, more industrious, and cared more for their personal ap-

6 If one may call the hides prepared without bark, etc., dressed or tanned skins,

6 Among Indians of the upper Missouri I did not see the leather band worn around
their left wrist as a protection against the rebound of the bowstring, as they are used by
the Iowa, Fox, and Omaha Indians. Indians on the upper Missouri, however, are more
well-to-do tribes and are provided generally with rifles.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 177

pearance at the time when Uncle Sam allowed them to barter for
whisky than at present, for the simple reason, universally accepted
as true, that people work more diligently for their pleasures than for
the necessities of life. They find in whisky, Mr. Denig says, a keen
incentive to work; in order to enjoy a drink the man went more
frequently on the chase, his wife dressed a larger number of hides.
Since that time they have brought fewer skins for exchange, not for
the reason that buffaloes have decreased in number but that Indians,
so long as they have meat, which is the food they prefer, will
not exert themselves at all for bread and coffee. But for whisky they
are willing to suffer hunger, cold, and most strenuous exertions for
days together.

This is all doubtless very true, but let us consider also the other
side of the question. The fur trader’s principal reason for wishing
whisky back again as a commodity for trade with Indians, notwith-
standing the attending peril to their own lives, is the enormous profit
they derive from the sale of it—a profit out of all proportion to the
one now realized.

They made a gain earlier ranging from 200 to 400 percent; their
gain today is not more than 80 percent. Fur traders form their
judgments and carry on business as such. They regard civilization
of the Indian with detestation, because that means the end of their
traffic. They know that when Indians begin to cultivate their land
they will become independent. They will no longer follow the chase
as their chief occupation, consequently there will be no longer a sup-
ply of furs and skins, present source of the fur traders’ ready money.
Anyone who investigates the history of the dispossessed Indians will
find fur traders always among them warning the tribes against the
whites, their own countrymen, and yet at the same time abetting the
plunderers. What has the Hudson Bay Co. ever done to benefit
the Indians since they have had the chartered rights of English
fur traders in North America? Nothing! What evidences do we
find here of the Englishman’s love of mankind? English philanthro-
pists give themselves tremendous airs where trade is not affected
adversely thereby. So do American fur-trading gentlemen in all
matters that do not affect their financial interests.

They are not concerned about the Indians’ morality or advance to
civilization, because that state of things would interfere with their
trade—do away with their means of earning a livelihood. As long as
there are buffaloes to kill fur traders are going to take a resolute
stand against the civilization of Indians, not openly, to be sure, but
in secret. Americans will see to it, meanwhile, that this vast trade is
not allowed to be ruined at the expense of the redskins. Even mis-
sionaries, unless they begin with cultivating the soil as their prin-

178 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 115

cipal work, do not prosper with their missions in the neighborhood of
fur traders. However, I have nothing to say against that. Baptiz-
ing savages and roving hunters does not make them Christians;
loyalty to the soil forms the foundation on which Christian com-
munities rest, just as, generally speaking, the peasantry forms the
core of organized states. A man who owns no land feels, perhaps,
attachment for his kith and kin, and in a wider sense for his native
country. Hunters with no fixed abode are not for a moment bound
by sentiments of loyalty to any land or by attachment to the soil or
to human associations. To set up a society composed of all mankind,
a close relationship in ways of thinking, in sympathies and like aspi-
rations, is the purpose of Christianity.

No civilized nation of the present day rose from a state of bar-
barism without the uplifting force of Christianity ; though they may
not have been Christian, yet teachers appeared among the people,
inculcating moral principles having a close agreement in many re-
spects with the teaching of Jesus. All European nations were still
barbarian before they accepted the Christian religion; from that
time on they advanced in agriculture, science, and art. Indians
must take the same course, but they should require less time, because
they are beginning under conditions so much more favorable, inas-
much as their teachers are heirs to the knowledge and experiences
of men during many centuries. But what discouraging examples
our so-called Christians! How little they practice what they preach!
Can one, then, blame the Indians if they have no faith in such
leaders ?

Missionaries of different faiths are all agreed that it is impossible
to convert Indian tribes where the tribesmen have whisky in their
possession. Against the might of that inspiriting drink their faith,
their prayers, and teachings are powerless. Yet there are some tribes
that, wholly apart from any interference on the part of missionaries,
will not endure the sight of whisky among them; for example, the
Cree,*? whom experience has made wise.

When old Dorion, an interpreter among the Sioux, was sent with
his comrade, Dufond, from the trading post d’EKau Qui Court to a
distant camp for the purpose of bartering whisky for skins and furs,
both of them became intoxicated on the way and Dorion murdered
Dufond. When their two Indian guides returned to the fire from
the hunt Dorion told them, quite unmoved, that he had killed the

87 White people commit the serious fault of finding always some means Of exculpation
when drunken men are brought before the courts. If a man were made to answer for
his offenses when intoxicated just as when he is sober there would be much less drunken-
ness. Why an Indian under the influence of strong drink is said to be more dangerous than
a drunken white man who, as everybody knows is almost always armed with pistol or
bowie knife, is something I do not understand.

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 179

man. One of the Indians seemed anything but pleased to be asso-
ciated with such a drunkard, in whose company even his own best
comrade was not safe. He raised his rifle, aimed at Dorion’s temple,
and fired.

The warmth of this open fire exerts its expansive influence upon
body and soul. I am inspired with an uncommon desire to write.
Just any day I may leave this place (may or must?) ; therefore what-
ever facts worth remembering are now floating about in my head
I would better preserve on paper; new impressions all too easily
efface earlier ones. So then:

An Indian orator speaking before an assembly addresses the
audience according to the relation he bears to his hearers. For
example, my people, my friends, my kinsmen, my comrades.

If the orator finds it necessary to employ an interpreter he divides
his speech into several parts, stops at the end of each section and has
his interpreter translate what he has said, counts off on his fingers each
section interpreted, and continues until all the divisions or points have
been brought forward and transmitted.

The Assiniboin, as all the other larger tribes, are grouped into
bands, each of which has its own chief or leader. The more numer-
ous a chief’s adherents, the higher his rank; he is valued according to
the number of warriors he can summon. However excellent, however
valiant, however shrewd a warrior may be, he will never become chief
unless he has followers—extended relationships. The five bands of
Assiniboin that severally owe allegiance to no supreme chief are
named: Band of the Left Handed Chief (Gaucher), Band of the
Maidens, Band of the Canots, Band of the Bluffs, Band from the
North. Gaucher was at an earlier time the most powerful, the most
celebrated chief. Like the infamous Omaha chief, Black Bird
(Waschinga-Schaba), he seems to have removed his most dangerous
rival from power by means of arsenic. The Assiniboin were then at
war with the whole world—with the Blackfeet Tribe, the Crows,
Arikara, Herantsa, and even the Sioux, but there is no fighting
against great odds; they were compelled in the end to conclude a
peace with the Sioux, Herantsa, and Absaroka.

Indians, says Mr. Denig, have the only system of education that
makes men out of boys and wives out of girls. They educate children
for a definite purpose in life; the boy is brought up to be a good hunts-
man, a brave warrior, a wise father; the girl, an industrious, faith-
ful, and discreet mother. In the training of youth they have no
further object in view. And in such training as this a good example
accomplishes more than instruction, high-sounding phrases, and the
inculcation of principles one never lives up to. The duty of a father
is, on the whole, to prepare his children for happiness under any con-

180 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

ditions; to train them to know how to submit to misfortune with
shrewdness, with long-suffering endurance and fearlessness at times
of assault, or to bear up against them; to give his son occupations
adapted to his native gifts and inclinations, in order that he may sus-
tain himself thereby. To supply young, inexperienced persons with
large sums of money immediately following their release from school
merely leads them into temptations, makes of them swaggerers,
spendthrifts, and scatterbrains. Only when his (Mr. Denig’s) son
shows how he manages with money (his son lives in Chicago) will his
father lavish funds upon him.

Rich children rarely develop into capable men: those who have
rendered the greatest service to mankind in the professions, as in-
ventors, in high qualities of mind and heart, come from parents in
humble circumstances and have worked their way up through hard-
ships. Necessity is the mother of invention. Only from experience
comes wisdom, and out of conflict and tribulation virtues arise. On
the other hand, he would afford girls the means to make an advan-
tageous marriage; that is only just, because a girl’s education involves
less expense than a boy’s. With a dowry she is all the better enabled
to make a free choice and is assured of a better living, because as
wife she is not expected to contribute to the support of the family
but to devote herself to thrift and to the care of her children.

According to Mr. Denig, there are three dangerous shoals on which
young people so frequently run aground: Idleness, love of drink, and
card playing. Sexual instincts, he says, lead to no peril. “Love—
damn the word !—is a madness in the brain; a contagious disease, like
smallpox or measles. I would much rather take a dose of Epsom
salts than to recall the folly of first love—pure love. If it is not
stopped, that lunacy makes one ridiculous, childish, ashamed of him-
self.” There is always something true and worth while in what he
says, only he expresses himself in strong language.

So pass the long winter evenings in this wilderness.

October 11. The sky was so clear this afternoon and the sun shone
so delightfully warm that I could not resist taking my gun and going
once more to the hills in search of antelope. If the buck would only
once allow me to approach near enough to see his horns, I would not
thirst for his blood. I had my usual luck; saw nothing that engaged
my attention particularly; began to indulge in daydreams and walked
straight ahead. A man sees such a great number of bright yellow
spots scattered over these hills that unless he is keen-sighted and pays
constant attention it is difficult to tell whether the objects he is looking
at are rocks or antelopes.

For that keen eyesight which enables one to recognize instantly
what one catches sight of suddenly or at a great distance we have in

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 181

German only the expression “kennerauge” (eye of an adept or of a
connoisseur) ; the English word “quick-sighted” implies something
more—that is, the rapidity with which the eye recognizes what it
perceives. And this instantaneous perception or discernment of dis-
tant objects the moment they strike the eye is a primary character-
istic of the huntsman.

But for this he would miss his chance to conceal himself or to creep
forward at the right moment, and, furthermore, he would unneces-
sarily expose himself to danger. It stands to reason, therefore,
that a hunter must have his thoughts fixed exclusively on the hunt.
The man at the fort who possesses the keenest, quickest eyesight is a
70-year-old Spaniard, our cattle herder—the most illiterate man
among us. Precisely for the reason that his head is empty of ideas,
his wits so blunted he occupies himself with nothing but the herding
of cattle, and for the sake of finding something to interest him while
engaged in those duties, his eyes stray continually to the distance.
He talks incessantly aloud to himself about what he sees. His un-
divided attention is given to this region that he has known for so
many years; he knows by heart, so to speak, every blade of grass,
every stone, every shrub, every tree, every elevation or depression of
the ground, every hill and brook. The slightest variation in the
landscape attracts his attention. Our other Spaniard, who guards
the horses, is less noted for keen sight; women and the laying of
traps share his thoughts and frequently distract his attention.
Packinaud glories in his skill in stalking deer as only few Indians
can.

The other hunters, who are equally successful as bookkeepers and
tradespeople, grant him this claim to the “excellence of the Indian”
but tell him at the same time that he is also as ignorant as an Indian,
for he can neither read, write, nor reckon, although he was brought
up in Canada. Keen eyesight I lack altogether. In the first place,
I am not quicksighted and, furthermore, I am so intensely absorbed
with other ideas, studies, and dreams—matters that are not only
unnecessary but in the highest degree prejudicial to the huntsman.

To-day, as heretofore, I allowed myself to be seen by the antelopes
long before I knew whether the objects in front of me were rocks or
animals. It was only when I became aware of yellow and white
spots moving through the dry grass that I took out my telescope and
saw how the frolicking antelopes were making fun of me, playing
with one another under my nose until they were chased from the
hilltop by the buck, vanished into the valley, appeared again in full
speed on a distant height, darted with leaps and bounds across, and
gave me the last glimpse of their shining bodies. In vain I followed
their tracks. But I did see a wolf whose head and neck looked

182 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

singularly blue. He was running down to the brackish stream but
found no water to his taste.

Wolves are no uncommon sight here, but they are not seen in
packs except when one finds a wounded animal which howls to bring
others to his aid. When they see or get the scent of people they
scurry away and lie down in some sheltered place to find out whether
they are pursued.

As they are never reduced to such straits for food in this region
as in settled countries, they are not so wild or so dangerous. For
instance, I was reading in a St. Louis newspaper that an Indian in
the region about Dubuque, returning home in winter with a load of
meat, was set upon with such fury by wolves that he could barely
save his life, though he threw out all the meat to them."* In this
region there has been no instance of a man having lost his life from
an attack of wolves.

Not only Indian tribes are separated into smaller camps for the
sake of moving from place to place with more rapidity and of feeling
more secure as to provisions, but these bands are also subdivided into
special groups, each of which claims a certain rank. Young men,
braves, girls, and older women have their own bands, to which they
pay rather large sums in time if they have the means. Each of
these groups has its own distinctive name, decoration, and dance.

Its purpose is purely social, offering the members a variation from
their usual diversions. The band of highest rank is made up of the
most celebrated warriors—The Band that Never Saves Itself. Others
have the names of favorite animals, but never the so-called medicine
birds and beasts, the flesh of which they do not eat, the skins of which
they refuse to prepare for sale; such birds and beasts are not identical
in any of the tribes. They exclude as such eagles, bears, beavers,
and wolves; on the other hand, they accept buffaloes, dogs, foxes,
pheasants, turtles, elks, etc. At these dances eunuchs wear no cloth-
ing at all except moccasins, not even the breechcloth. They fasten
an eagle feather on their limbs.

Because of the limited supply, eagle feathers are very high in
price. For designating a “coup” only tail feathers are worn, and of
those an eagle has only twelve; they are a dingy white in color, with
black ends. The tail of an eagle costs here as much as a horse or
six buffalo robes.°® Indians take much pains to catch war eagles;
they shoot them very rarely, if ever.

To ensnare the birds, two Indians go out into a wild region and dig
a hole in the ground deep enough to conceal one of them, who gets

68 The region beyond Dubuque, however, is not thickly populated.
s? At the fort we have an eagle confined in a cage. He is given, once a week, a large
piece of meat, Since he has been here he has never once drunk water.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 183

in, is supplied with food, and then covered over by his companion
with boughs and twigs. Care is taken to leave spaces between the
boughs through which he can see. His companion then lays some
carrion on top of the covered pit and withdraws from the scene.
When an eagle swoops down upon the carrion the concealed hunter
seizes him by the legs and pulls him down through the boughs and
plunges a knife into his heart. Woe to the Indian if the eagle attacks
him with beak and talons, for the wounds those birds inflict are
terrible. In their sharp-pointed claws they possess greater strength
than a bear, and with their crooked beaks they tear away flesh, leav-
ing great hollows in a person’s face. The hunter has oftentimes to
remain several days in his lurking place, but is happy even then if
he accomplishes anything—moreover, if a bear does not fall foul of
him.7°

I was inquiring today whether the pipe of peace was ever put to a
wrong use, in order to overreach a friend by treachery and bring
about his overthrow, or whether it was always regarded as sacred.
Among Absaroka and Herantsa the sanctity of the peace pipe is held
inviolable; among other nations it depends; if the end in view be only
to get rid of an enemy, all means are justified. So it was, they say, at
the time when Crows and Assiniboin were still at enmity with each
other but yet were beginning to be weary of war and to question
whether their feud was due to any well-defined cause or was merely
a heritage from their forefathers that no longer justified real feelings
of hatred as a motive to continued hostilities. During that time four
Absaroka, in spite of warnings from the whites, insisted upon com-
ing with their families to their relations, the Herantsa, at this fort
for the purpose of bartering for corn, or, in other words, to beg.
The Crows came actually upon a camp of Assiniboin. Knife, Spotted
Horn, Celui Qui Suit le Chemin (Pathfinder), and other chiefs prof-
fered them the pipe in a tent. The Crows, unsuspecting, laid their
weapons aside and smoked. The Assiniboin rushed upon them and

70 Later on Morgan and I had a rather severe struggle with our eagle. On account of
the cold weather he and the bear were put in a small outhouse. One day I found a
frozen pig near the palisades and wished to give it to the bear. When I entered I saw
the eagle’s cage turned upside down and the eagle squatting on top of it. The bear
presumably had picked a quarrel with the bird between the wooden slabs of his box.
I called Morgan to assist me. He took an old buffalo robe and I took my wide riding
cloak with which to cover the eagle and secure him, without exposing ourselves to sharp
beak and frightful talons. As Morgan approached him he flew away. I threw my
cloak in his direction in such a way as to catch him in it. We bound him at once with
leather thongs and carried him into my room. We had no more time at the moment to
give to him. We had hardly gone back to our duties in the store when someone shouted
that the eagle was walking about in my room. To prevent his escape through the window
it was necessary to catch him again forthwith. I found my cloak torn to pieces by
his powerful claws. This time he turned upon us in a frightful manner and inflicted
several severe cuts on Morgan’s arm with his feet. But for Morgan’s good fortune in
haying on leather clothes the talons would have made a deep wound. As it was, that
arm pained him a long while.

81634—37 13

184 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

murdered them. Their motive seems to have been to get possession
of the Crows’ good horses rather than their scalps, for they sent the
women and children back on foot.

When it came to a division of their four-footed prizes, Spotted
Horn had a quarrel with the son of Pathfinder, whereupon the former
let fly an arrow that struck the latter in the back and killed him. As
a penalty, Spotted Horn was deprived of his share of the booty and
made to sweat for other gifts besides in expiation of the crime.

On the occasion of another such peace proposal, twenty-eight braves
of the Herantsa Tribe were murdered by Yanktonai. Later the
Yanktonai concluded a peace, in reality, but their motive in so do-
ing was to overreach the Herantsa and make victory over them all the
more certain. As it was the custom with the latter tribe to leave their
village at Fort Berthold in winter and, for the sake of the hunting, to
move up to the region of Knife River, the Yanktonai thought they
would find at the abandoned village large quantities of maize. A
group of them sneaked up. Luckily, the Herantsa had got wind of
that villainy, however, and were lying in ambush both in front of
them! and in their rear. Not one escaped; all were slain.

Crows are noted for the good order maintained in their villages;
but we may assume this has reference more particularly to good con-
duct on the part of men than of the women, since in that tribe women
take the liberty of going to the deliberative council,’* where they
enter the discussions and make the braves listen to reason, a proceed-
ing never heard of in any other Indian nation.

Yet women of the Crow Tribe are known rather more for their
industry and skilled work than for beauty of face and form. Young
Crows are as wild and unrestrained as wolves.

Among the Absaroka old Sapsucker was, in his earlier years, a
soldier of first rank and became their most famous chief. Once when
they were ready to go as usual after the harvest season, on a visit to
the Herantsa to barter, or rather to beg for maize, yet realized the
danger of the venture, because, owing to their feud with the Assini-
boin, detached parties were always attacked, old Sapsucker assembled
his forces and came as usual over the Missouri to Fort Union. His
object was to find out whether the Assiniboin would pounce upon him
at the head of hisarmy. He first sent forward twenty braves mounted
on picked horses as a vanguard “to feel their way.” It was known
that the combined Assiniboin bands were in camp between the two
forts and that their warriors were on the watch. He gave orders to
his vanguard to avoid any encounter, but to find out where their
foes were and keep clear of them. They brought the news here that

70a Among the Iroquois this is a right of the women and the women chiefs.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 185

in a few days their entire settlement would desire to cross the river.”

As soon as they had taken some rest and had gained the informa-
tion required they proceeded farther on their way. Two days later
sixty braves came riding along to support the vanguard and to dis-
patch couriers here, there, and everywhere. Finally Sapsucker ar-
rived in command of a hundred soldiers, the gros ’armee. The other
members of the tribe, including women and children, followed on
foot, convoyed by four squads of braves. In this manner the shrewd
leader reached the village of the Herantsa unperceived and, while
conducting his affairs with them, kept his spies on the alert around
the enemy’s settlement. His return, in reverse order, was accom-
plished with equal success.

When outlying pickets discover the enemy they give the following
signal to their forces in the rear: They gallop up and down and
then crosswise the line. If they come upon buffaloes, they ride slowly
up and down in a straight line, often throwing dust into the air.

October 12. Saw today some other attractions that afford motifs
for pictures. In the morning two lovely girls were bringing water
from the river. After we had eaten I went with Mr. Denig on a hunt
for antelopes. Saw first an Indian sitting on a hill beside his horse,
musing on the surrounding scene. He then mounted and, singing,
rode away, a somber figure sharply outlined against the horizon,

Next we saw a red fox that Mr. Denig might have shot if he and I
had not been absorbed in conversation.’? We found our herd of ante-

7 Flatboats are also kept on the river at this place for the convenience of the people at
the fort and their customers as well. The ‘‘Dobies’” below us are situated at the mouth
of the Yellowstone, and use no ferryboats.

“There is a crossbreed between the gray and the red fox which, on account of its
splendid pelt, is most highly prized. In St. Louis such a “cross-fox’”’ brings as much as
$80. We have here several beautiful animals of that species, nearly always lustrous black
except on the abdomen, where their hair is gray, verging into red-brown. Others appear
to be wholly gray—silver gray.

According to Audubon and Bachmann, there is a distinction to be made between the
kit fox (Vulpes velox) and the gray fox (Vulpes virginianus) ; it is so slight, however,
that I would say the difference lies in celerity of movement rather than habitat. The
same species of fox must be able to rely more on his fleetness than his cunning on the
open prairie where he finds skulking places much less frequently than in forests and
broken or overgrown terrain. Neither the gray nor the red fox are reputed to be crafty.
On the prairie, at least, no distinction is made between the gray fox and the swift fox.

Iam sorry I was not acquainted with the mongrel black crossbreed (Vulpes fulves var.
argentatus) when I came to the upper Missouri. I regret especially that I had not had
opportunity to study beforehand the admirable book by Audubon and Bachmann, as well as
other valuable works, for I should have derived much authoritative information in regard
to natural history. At Fort Union I took the so-called ‘“‘cross fox” for a crossbreed com-
bining the gray and red foxes, nor was I informed otherwise by the hunters there. Accord-
ing to Audubon and Bachmann, the silver fox is lustrous black with the exception of the
tip of his tail, which, like that of the red fox, is invariably white. On the other hand,
the tail of the kit fox is invariably altogether black. Other animals of this species are
blue-gray or, to be exact, most frequently black with an intermixture of blue-gray hair,
sometimes combined with additional red-brown hairs, sometimes not.

Now the cross fox is the hybrid produced by a combination of the silver and the red
fox, and is distinguished from the former by red-brown hair on his sides and from the
latter by his black neck, shoulders, back, and tail. His pelt is held to be of great value.

186 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL, 115

lopes again at their accustomed grazing place near the brackish
stream. They were obviously on their guard; instead of grazing they
were constantly peering around, sniffing the air, giving every evidence
ef unrest. Mr. Denig crept up the hill on which they were tripping
about, beckoned me to come out of my excellent hiding place, where
I should have had the best chance in the world to shoot the buck, and
reproached me for a blunderer who had again let myself be seen
unnecessarily or else had made a noise. On the contrary, I had been
as still as a mouse. The instant my companion fired, the beasts fled
with amazing leaps, arching their flexible backs in the manner of
cats. We discharged our rifles at once upon the fleeing herd, but to no
purpose. We had hardly lost sight of our escaping quarry when we
were startled by the unexpected report of a gun nearby; friend or
foe—that was now the question.

We reloaded our rifles with care and set forward in the direction
from which the sound had come. Soon we met, on the trail leading
to the fort, a group of Indians we did not know. There were four
men and two women, accompanied by several dogs laden with packs
of dried meat. At sight of us two of the latter ran off with their
travois, and their companions followed them to a considerable dis-
tance. Mr. Denig took the redskins for Cree. He invited them by
means of signs to come with him to the fort; they laughed and re-
mained standing where they were. Well, he thought, they are going
to the “Dobies”, customers of the opposition. They wanted whisky.
We had none to offer them. After all, they decided to follow us along
the characteristic Indian trail with its three parallel paths. Mr.
Denig remarked at once to me that it would be hard to bring them
over to our side, yet it would be to his discredit if his attempt failed.
To be sure, they had nothing with them of any value, but they would
make a great deal of fun at his expense when they arrived at the
“Dobie” fort and gave their own account of all the things he had
promised them. So, when we came to the parting of the ways and
he saw them turning off he made signs to the effect that he would
give them as much meat and coffee as their stomachs could hold.
“Hou!” They followed us. They were Chippewa, who in their
speech constantly reminded me #f Potawatomi.

October 18. While we were weighing the meat and hanging it
up so as to prevent mold and also to keep it out of the way of hordes

Audubon was himself long in doubt as to whether the silver fox actually formed a distinct
species, and came to his final conclusion only after repeated investigations of different
litters of silver foxes to determine how these various young Reynards were colored. He
derives the name cross fox, however, from the black cross on shoulders and back. He
explains further that the name cross fox did not arise from any especially disagreeable
trait of disposition, as would be indicated by the word ‘cross’? when used as an adjective
in the English language to mean “bad tempered.’’ I prefer, in this regard, to abide by
my original intention, i. e., to translate the word ‘‘cross” as English usage permits, “mixed
or cross breed.”

KUBZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 187

of mice (there are no rats in the fort any more than at Fort Ber-
thold) there arrived a great band of Assiniboin, including many
women, laden horses, and dogs. Inasmuch as these caravans afford
me my only chance to observe different groups of Indians in this
region, they are always welcome as further means of detailed study,
especially their method of laying on the loads and, during the sale
of their commodities, of unloading their packs. Upon these occa-
sions there is no evidence of festive array.

Art is not to be regarded as a luxury beyond the reach of “the
general”; love of painting is not merely indulging a taste for ex-
travagance; that is not to be said of any of the fine arts. Ideals
toward which one strives in art are as lofty as in religion; one’s
aspirations are the same and the resulting loss just as profound if
one falls into error.

That not all artists entertain this view but are merely influenced
by their feeling; that the wealthy surround themselves with paint-
ings, statues, music, poetry, and romances, is no reason why we
should suppose that art is something rare and rich, to be possessed
only by the few; that many people who have a genuine taste for art
may even regard it from that viewpoint does not disprove what I say.

Or are we to suppose that beauty serves no other end in life than
to please? Has it not the much more lofty aim to inspire us to love
the good ?

Beauty’s sway is acknowledged by everybody, disputed by none.
Beauty arouses sympathies and emotions that inflame to good or to
evil, to noble aspirations, to cringing humility, or even to animal
instincts. His sense of the beautiful sets the human being apart from
the lower animals. In brutes that sense is totally lacking. Now,
as the perfecting of our nature is the aim of earthly existence and
our striving for a future perfect state elevates us above the animal,
distinguishing the human being from the brute, then love of the
beautiful and quick manifestations of beauty which is inherent in
man but nonexistent, one may say, in the brute, points unmistakably
the direction to be taken in the culture of the human individual.

Man has no higher task than his endeavor to attain to this perfec-
tion by some called Godlikeness. He has three means of approach
in his progress toward this aim: Along the way of truth, the way of
love, and the way that leads to beauty. To aid him in determining
his course, he is endowed with intellect, which enables him to reason
and to will; with soul, the source of all higher feeling and ennobling
emotions; and with faculties of sense, by means of which he receives
impressions from without. These qualities or native endowments the
human being possesses in unequal proportion, one faculty being more
dominant, another less. He is not uniformly provided with these
gifts of nature which render him capable of advancing toward the

188 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

spiritual perfection he strives to attain, if not in this world, then in
a future life.

In his efforts to put his faculties to right use he should find his
best guidance in science, religion, and in the fine arts, for, inasmuch
as men are not uniformly endowed by nature, what one knows to be
true another believes and a third is deeply conscious of, according to
his native endowments. So, then, notwithstanding that the means
employed are different, the fine arts have no less worthy end in view
than faith and wisdom.

As the senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, etc.—differ one
from the other, so the arts which serve the senses are to be distin-
guished and every form of art—painting, sculpture, architecture,
music, and poetry—all have the same purpose. A picture of the
external, visible world we perceive through our physical sense of
sight, but the soul also possesses this sensitive faculty. We see with
our “mind’s eye”, we hear the singing in our own hearts, our own
inward song we speak to our own inner selves. Our outer senses are
only a sort of mirror, but the inner mind possesses also a power pecu-
liarly its own—the imagination. Through the magic of this faculty
we can recall pictures of the past, make them more beautiful, trans-
form as we choose or create them anew.

Beauty enraptures us, ugliness is repugnant; the same is true of
harmonious sounds, the redolence of flowers, etc. Yet beauty does
not exist for mere pleasurable effect upon the senses, but for the
higher purpose of inspiration, of uplift. Beauty is one of the mighty
incentives that excites our human minds, that stirs our very souls.

To evoke noble emotions and lofty aspirations through the percep-
tive faculties is the task of the fine arts, called the fine or elegant arts
for the reason that in each the end is attained through the medium
of what is beautiful and fine. Also called plastic arts, because the
end in view is to ennoble the soul, to give to the emotions a higher
and more definite direction.

The human mind is excited and influenced by impressions received.
The arts have the power to convey impressions that lead to good or
evil results. Who, then, can doubt an artist’s responsibilities and
duties? Only those who refuse to acknowledge how important the
culture of mankind is, that is, the materialists. Any one who accepts
the truth that man’s destiny is to rise to higher levels through the per-
fecting of his entire self must agree that we employ our talent, with
which we are more or less richly endowed, to that end.

Why console ourselves with hopes of a future life, the existence of
which we accept on faith but cannot prove ?

Poetry finds here now, in this life, what the religious seek on the
other side of the grave. Poetry reveals ideal life on earth and shows

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 189

how all created things are in accord with the divine harmony per-
vading all; accordingly, the heaven striven for in religion poetry
creates on earth.

We know that we cannot attain in this life to our ideal of human
perfection. From the cradle to the grave we are beset with trials too
numerous, exigencies too great. Notwithstanding, each is to do his
utmost and console himself with hopes held out to him in religion of
finding his reward in a future existence. Then he will be rid of his
mortal nature and, his divine gifts of mind and soul thus disencum-
bered, developing under conditions more favorable, necessities less -
urgent, trials less severe, will attain to the ideal. We are taught, also,
in religion that not until this afterlife are injustices and inequalities
in the bestowal of native gifts to be set right. We are to become good
through a constant struggle upward to what is beautiful and fine—
that is the aim. We find this same end in view in the study of plastic
art, 1. e., rhythm, harmony, or, in other words, poetry, is meant to be
evident in every pictorial representation, whether embodied in lan-
guage, colors, stone, lines, and contours, or in musical tones. Woe be
unto the artist who employs his talents to an evil purpose, directs his
efforts to the wrong aim.

No true artist regards as his highest purpose mere reproduction of
nature; beauties of nature are daily pleasures from which only the
blind are debarred. The artist’s task is to improve nature’s forms,
make perfect her imperfections, strive not only to emulate but to
excel her in the creation of beauty. Nature achieves nothing in ideal
perfection, but the artist’s mind can conceive of ideal beauty and
clothe his ideas with correspondingly lovely forms, 1. e., idealize them.

By that means the human being rises above that which is usual
or commonplace. To inspire their fellow beings is the artist’s most
lofty aim; to that end they should bend their efforts, each according
to his ability.

Inasmuch as we are unable to conceive of spirit apart from body,
since even a spirit in space is conceivable only as a separate, indi-
vidual entity or else as having vanished into thin air and hence form-
less, and inasmuch as we can conceive of no form more noble than
that of man, animated by the greatest minds, or spirits known to us
in this world, the perfect human stands for our ideal of consummate
beauty. Man made in God’s image is not only His noblest but also
His most surpassingly beautiful creation. Though animal forms and
the grandeur and loveliness of natural scenery have power to excite
our admiration, to evoke poetic emotions and yearnings for the better
world, neither arouses more lofty aspirations or a higher exercise of
will than contemplation of the form of man.

Not reproduction of Nature’s work—that will soon be completely
accomplished by the aid of mechanical means—not as a luxury for

190 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

the few; not for diversion; not as a pastime, but poetry—divine
poetry—that is our shibboleth.

To inspire lofty emotions, thoughts, and deeds through pictorial
representation of noble forms; to put one into the right way to en-
noble one’s emotions; to think nobly; to search for truth; to be capable
of great deeds; to cultivate one’s taste—nothing less than this is the
end and aim of the fine arts. To improve a person’s taste one must
so charm him with representations of an idealized world that he
desires those pleasures. Itissaid, to be sure, les gouts sont differents,”
- but good taste is the same wherever it may be found.

Art that can serve so lofty a purpose is not to be regarded as only
one of the luxuries of life. That art can do what I claim is proved
by the effect of such statues as we find from the best period of Greek
sculpture and the purpose for which the original statues and monu-
ments were carved; furthermore, by sacred paintings in Catholic
churches that serve to dispose one’s mind and heart to piety, to make
one receptive to thoughts of a purer life; by magnificent temples and
cathedrals, whose towering pinnacles and spires warn man of his
littleness and inspire feelings of humility; by the power of music to
attune the soul to merriment, to melancholy, to serious reflection, to
heroic action in war, to good and to evil; finally, “last but not least”,
by the art of poetry, that through the medium of language incites
to grand deeds, noble sentiments, and pure emotions.

October 14. While we were getting together the goods for Carafel’s
winter quarters and packing them into uniform bales weighing on an
average of 70 pounds each, eight half-breeds from the upper Red
River (not to be confused with Red River in northern Arkansas and
Texas) came to the fort seeking employment for the winter. They
gave an account of a recent attack made on their people by the Sioux.
These Chippewa half-breeds have severed themselves from English
sovereignty and have come under the Star-Spangled Banner of the
United States. They have chosen from their share of Chippewa
domain the delta between the Pembina and the St. Peters River.
These metifs’* have intermarried with both full-blooded and hali-
breed Indians. Their land is not particularly productive; they prefer
still the products of the chase to agriculture, for which tendencies
their Indian and French blood is chiefly responsible. While their
crops are growing they have time for the summer’s hunt; after the
harvest, for hunting in the fall; in the winter season the men try to
earn some money as engagees, scouts, and interpreters in the service of
various fur traders.

JT. e., tastes differ.

™ Descendants from Lord Selkirk’s colony. Among those colonists were also some Swiss
from English regiments of the time that, after the war with France, served in Canada
and were afterwards discharged there.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 191

On these hunting expeditions the metifs take dried meat, hides,
tents, and cooking utensils around with them on two-wheeled carts.
Each band chooses its own leader to direct the hunt and to take meas-
ures for defense in the event they are set upon by enemies. They are
accustomed, when such caravans are crossing the prairie, to require
that carts be driven in a certain order and, upon halting, to form a
ring or square about the men and brutes as a means of defense. ‘They
push the poles or shafts under the foremost carts.

The other day, according to their story, sixty metifs were on a
buffalo hunt with their families. During the chase three of them
were captured by a greater number of Sioux. The latter counted
some 800 tents; hence about 2,500 warriors. Farther back was pitched
another camp numbering 600 tents. The Sioux, conscious of their
superior strength, were most insolent and yet cowardly. In spite of
their power they attempted to trick the metifs and take them una-
wares. They made the three prisoners believe that their intention
was to conduct them back to their carts, shake hands with the other
half-breeds, and smoke the pipe. Accordingly the captives, accom-
panied by a strong guard of soldiers, were taken in the direction of
their barricade. The metifs, however, neither the three held by the
enemy nor those behind the clustered carts, put any confidence at all
in good intentions on the part of the Sioux.

Those in camp had meanwhile driven in their cattle and horses,
which they confined. They had further strengthened their defense
by filling in open spaces between the carts with heaps of dried meat,
raw hides, and saddles.

The prisoners, who were riding one behind the other in the fore-
most file, where they could be seen by their friends, decided among
themselves that if it were possible, as soon as they came within shoot-
ing distance of their own people, they were going to take flight. The
one in the rear was mounted on a horse of slow gait, so he had poor
prospects of escape, but he did what he could to enable his comrades
to avenge his death. So, the instant the two foremost captives put
spurs to their horses, he shot the Sioux nearest him—that same bullet
brought down three braves. He himself was felled on the spot. His
fellow prisoners escaped. The metifs behind the carts shot a number
of the Sioux. Then the enemy surrounded their barricade and for
two days galloped hither and yon in their attempts to fire upon the
cattle, but no hand-to-hand combat took place; they dared not make
an attack. A Chippewa woman, in the metif’s camp, the men said,
was beside herself in her desire to do battle. She was constantly try-
ing to rush out and fight at close quarters with the Sioux, and became
extremely angry because her relatives restrained her. Finally she
took off all her clothes and, standing naked, waved her skirt at the
enemy with jeering words.

192 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

She sang and whooped at such a rate, they said, that three other
women were induced to make like demonstrations.

The Sioux lost 80 men and 65 horses, and many more were wounded.
The metifs’ rifles kept the enemy at such a distance that their balls
fell short of the carts. They were too far removed to use arrows at
all. The half-breeds’ loss amounted to twelve horses and four oxen.
They kept swift horses saddled, ready to make an attack the instant
opportunity was offered. Fifteen foolhardy fellows even rode out
once and fired a volley with the hope of enticing the enemy to come
at least within range of their archers, but in vain. Attracted by the
repeated shooting of guns, a larger group of metifs drew near, where-
upon the valiant Sioux took to flight. This is the metifs’ story.
Sioux, in their turn, will give a different account.

Then the wounded Packinaud would also tell his story to prove
that he had at least seen a combat. As he does not appear to be a hero
in the action, one is inclined to believe his narrative: Ten Dakota
were out on the warpath near the Herantsa settlement; they were dis-
covered in a thicket back of the upper cornfields, where mosquitoes
swarm in thick multitudes. Frenzied by the pests, six of them dug
holes with their knives in which to cover their bodies and the other
four ran off.

The Herantsa7® were not overeager to seek out the hidden enemy
and attack. To expose themselves unnecessarily to certain death they
held to be foolish rather than valiant. Suddenly a Cree came gallop-
ing along and shouted, “Where is the enemy ?”

He was shown the small wood where the Dakota were suspected to
be lurking. He galloped thither, and the Herantsa, ashamed, fol-
lowed him. Five bullets pierced through the skull of the brave Cree,
blowing out his brains, and the sixth shot hit the Herantsa next to
him. The attacking party knew then, from the powder smoke, where
the Dakota were concealed, but had to tread down willow plats be-
fore they got sight of them. Many a brave met his death there. When
one of the Herantsa shot to death the first Sioux he called out at
once that he had slain a foe, whereupon his companions rushed upon
the others and instantly brought down four. The sixth plunged into
a bog and sank; a Herantsa was in the act of pushing him down when
he, a young boy, begged to be shot rather than drowned.

The Herantsa, with a thrust of the knife, sent him into the other
world. Now, at that moment Packinaud came upon the scene of
action, just at the right time to witness the amputation of limbs for
trophies. With increasing heat he brought his narrative to its con-
clusion, accompanying his words with Indian signs. In a greatly

7% Their real name is Gens des saules rongés, not Minetaree, which means gens qui
traversent une petite traverse [i. e., who cross a small tongue of land, or isthmus], or
people of the gnawed willows.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 193

excited state he sat down. He looked really as if all was over with
him.

A decrepit woman who hobbles about this place with the aid of a
walking stick has lived in a tent before the gates for four generations.
She is the widow of that renowned chief of the Assiniboin, L’Armure
de Fer, better known as Le Gros Frangais [The Great Frenchman].
He was the leader of the Gens des Roches [People of the Rocks],
whom Lewis and Clark met on their expedition. She must be more
than a hundred years old. She hobbles about bent double with age.

Old people have anything but a pleasant life among the Indians
when they can no longer be of use. They must be fed when there is a
lack of food; they must be carried along when the band is moving in
haste. As a consequence one finds all too frequently that on their
wanderings Indians abandon old members of the band to a wretched
fate, without shelter and without means of support. They are given
only a stick with which to dig the pomme blanche.”

Such an aged woman lived a long while just outside this fort,
supported by Mr. Denig. She put together a heap of twigs for a
shelter under which to abide; snow kept her warm. Two young
blades from the band to which she belonged took counsel together
as to what was to be done, whether to build her a more comfortable
hut or to do away with her. Since she was of no service whatever,
they argued, she was not worth so much trouble, and they decided,
therefore, upon the latter alternative, and cudgeled her until she
was dead. When the old Spaniard went next morning to take her
what was left from the morning meal he found the aged woman
with head split open. The two young Indians, who were sitting
near, told him lightly that she was better dead than alive.”®

Only the other day a feeble Indian woman came to the fort, after
she had been left 14 days on the prairie to starve. She carried only
a few pommes blanches that she had got for her scanty fare.

Generally speaking, women age more rapidly than men, for the
reason, so it is said, that they smoke less. Yet the Indians’ habit,
of inhaling tobacco smoke and exhaling through the nose results
in serious injury to chest and head; consequently, though they smoke
a blended tobacco, mild and sweet-smelling, they suffer quite fre-

®a This is the prairie turnip, or pomme de prairie, of the voyageurs, Psoralea esculenta
Pursh.

7%J do not deliberately pass over in silence such cruel acts, because, apart from my
Sympathy and friendship for the Indians, I have a just comprehension of their feelings.
I assert boldly that in proportion to mental and moral training these so-called savages
are guilty of fewer acts of inhumanity and crueity than citizens of self-styled Christian
nations. Not a day passes that the newspapers, both in Burope and the United States,
do not publish the most bloodcurdling, shameful deeds. I think the Indians’ barbarity
during the wars of extermination was perfectly natural; their fury and wrath were
aroused to an extreme degree. Were the people on the borders less savage? Did they
not scalp with equal zeal?

194 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

quently from lung trouble. They smoke a brand of American manu-
facture, the only tobacco they can get, mixed with dried leaves or
bark they procure for themselves. This Indian blend I have now
become accustomed to using (but do not exhale through the nose).
I never smoke that sort of tobacco anywhere else. I find the aroma
very agreeable. To offer a well-filled pipe to the visitor is in strict
accord with Indian etiquette; I am in duty bound to acknowledge
the courtesy, particularly since I do not understand their speech.

October 15. Walked with Carafel to his winter quarters, mainly
to assist him in getting things arranged; his principal lading of
goods will come later. Afterwards I helped him hang up the rest
of his cured meat and to put the store in order.

I much enjoy such exertions at times, for it is not well to devote
one’s self exclusively to building castles in Spain, but to give the brain
relaxation now and then and bring the body into action while engaged
in practical matters.

The father of our new trader, Battiste Lafontaine, was the best
mounted buffalo hunter ever known in this region. He ran buffaloes
once with others on the Yellowstone to see which of them could kill
the greater number at full gallop. He covered 1 English mile in
6 minutes and shot, in flight, 12 cows—that is, two every minute—
notwithstanding that cows run much faster than bulls. Lafontaine
weighed 230 pounds, but sat his horse so lightly and comfortably that
the beast was not sensible of his weight. Owen Mackenzie can load
and shoot 14 times in 1 mile, but does not invariably hit the object at
which he aims. Still I do not doubt but that Mackenzie has the skill
to shoot 12 cows in 1 mile if his runner should come up with that
number.” Last year he ran a race with Clark from Fort Benton on a
wager and broke his collar bone during the adventure. He was just
getting a start to his goal when his runner stepped in a hole and fell.
Mackenzie went hurtling over the horse’s head and came down on one
shoulder. He won the race nevertheless, both in respect to his horse’s
speed and the rapidity of his shots.

When running buffaloes the hunters do not use rifle-patches “ but
take along several balls in their mouths; the projectile thus moistened
sticks to the powder when put into the gun. In the first place, on
buffalo hunts, they do not carry rifles, for the reason that they think

™ Audubon says in vol. II, p. 158, of his Quadrupeds: ‘‘Mr. Culbertson fired 11 times in
less than half a mile’s run.”” That would make 22 shots to a mile. Mr. Denig told me
about the above-mentioned exploit without putting Mr. Culbertson higher; nevertheless
he was at Fort Union at that time, in 1848, and so must know about the instance to
which Audubon refers. Besides, the result in such cases depends also upon the swiftness
of the horse; it is possible to take more time for a half mile than for a whole mile.
Another fact to be considered in the reckoning is that time and distance are not arbitrarily
fixed here by clock and sundial.

78 Since the introduction of modern breech-loading guns the word “rifle-patch” seems to
have fallen into disuse.—Translator’s note,

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 195

the care required in loading them takes too much time unnecessarily
when shooting at close range and, furthermore, they find rifle balls
too small. The hunter chases buffaloes at full gallop, discharges his
gun, and reloads without slackening speed. ‘To accomplish this he
holds the weapon close within the bend of his left arm and, taking
the powder horn in his right hand, draws out with his teeth the
stopper, which is fastened to the horn to prevent its being lost, shakes
the requisite amount of powder into his left palm, and again closes
the powder horn. Then he grasps the gun with his right hand, hold-
ing it in a vertical position, pours the powder down the barrel, and
gives the gun a sidelong thrust with the left hand, in order to shake
the powder well through the priming hole into the touchpan (hunters
at this place discard percussion caps as not practical).

Now he takes a bullet from his mouth and with his left hand puts it
into the barrel, where, having been moistened by spittle, it adheres
to the powder. He dares never hold his weapon horizontal, that is,
in position taken when firing, for fear that the ball may stick fast in
its course, allowing sufficient air to intervene between powder and
lead to cause an explosion and splinter the barrel. So long as the
ball rolls freely down there is no danger. Hunters approach the
buffaloes so closely that they do not take aim but, lifting the gun
lightly with both hands, point in the direction of the animal’s heart
and fire. They are very often wounded on the face and hands by the
bursting gun barrels, which, especially when the weather is extremely
cold, are shattered as easily as glass.

The hunters aim always at the heart of the larger beasts of the
chase, the surest and simplest method, since the heart is an inevitably
vulnerable part. When hunting wolves, foxes, and beavers they aim
at the head, so that they may not do damage to the small, costly skins
by perforating them with bullets. Buffalo chasers must not only have
the enduring qualities of swift riders but they must also be accustomed
to the habits of the animals. A buffalo runner must be faultless in
pressing close upon his quarry and at the same time be alert to spring
aside if a buffalo tosses his head. Otherwise, if he be only a passable
horseman, he will find himself immediately upon the ground and may
count himself happy if he is not trodden underfoot.

The metifs cannot find words with which to praise highly enough
the magnificence of a buffalo hunt, when from 500 to 600 horsemen
attack, encircle, pursue, and slay an entire herd, even to the last cow
and calf. On such occasions only the hunter who fires the shot that
kills has any claim on the animal slain. Therefore each of them has
some sign by which he designates his booty; either the arrows are
marked, or a certain number of buckshot are mixed among the bul-
lets, or else the hunters throw something from their wearing apparel

196 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

upon the expiring beasts. As in any case not everyone in such a large
number gets a shot—oftentimes many of them are not well mounted—
the successful hunters have some portions of meat to spare. They
always keep the hides for themselves. Among the Indians, on the
other hand, the flesh of the animals is equally distributed.

This evening two old acquaintances from Fort Berthold arrived
here: Le Nez d’Ours and l’Estomac de Corbeau, the proudest and most
powerful soldiers of the village. They are on the way to the Ab-
saroka; left their companions behind at the opposition fort. Three
hundred Arikara, they say, died from cholera. That whole story
about Dorson’s being compelled to bring his cannons into action was
an invention, related just for the purpose of having some story to tell
and to get something to eat.

In reality the Arikara killed only one white person, an old man
coming from the timber yard. The Herantsa lost 20 braves, among
which number 6 Mandan are included. Women and children were
not counted. There is no longer any sign of epidemic, so the Indians
returned to the settlement at the last new moon. Mr. Kipp is reported
to have provided 14 braves with clothes, 1. e., clothes of European
make. Which act denotes the measure of his fear. Bellangé, they
said, arrived safe; boasted much of his excellent marksmanship.

Most of the Herantsa are well disposed toward me; merely a few
customers of the opposition talk violently against me. Jeff Smith,
they say, has egged them on to bad feeling, less from real dislike on
his own part than from self-interest. This Jeff is said to have gone
out beaver hunting with a German once and after great success with
their traps he murdered the latter for the sake of stealing his horse
and beaver skins. Smith is now bourgeois at the opposition fort.
Le Nez d’Ours told me how he had come upon 30 Assiniboin from
the Bande des Filles and every one at sight of him began to howl and
scream because, owing to the present peace, many Assiniboin scalps
remain unavenged.,”®

Four Herantsa were supplied with guns as an inducement not to
show the captured scalps again. Their leader is Le Loup Court
Queue, who once shared my room with me.

During this conversation several of the company spoke of rudeness
and bungling on the part of Pierre Gareau. He repels all young
men. He refuses to associate with any but the most prominent men;
yet those same young fellows will later on be the most distinguished
among their tribe. Bad speculation.

One of the aged women was calling her dog: “Kadosch! Kadosch!”
As they entice the brutes usually with “Suk! suk!”, I asked Mr.

During the recent fray between the two nations a young Assiniboin, so Mr. Denig
said afterwards, refused to enter the fight at all.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 197

Denig whether Indians name their dogs. “Only as illustrated in
this instance”, he replied. “Kadosch means son-in-law.” Yes; it is a
fact; they treat dogs as members of the family. Many people, I dare
say, have, unfortunately, chosen life partners no more faithful than a
four-legged beast.

October 16. About 10 o’clock Mr. Denig sent me to find out from
Joe Picotte when he expects to take up his winter quarters on the
lower Bourbeuse. He and Joe have agreed not to be rivals in trade,
inasmuch as such competition is of no profit to either of them, but
only incurs greater expense in the matter of gifts and disturbs pleas-
ant relations. On the way I met the Herantsa who had been left
behind at Adobe Fort and were now, horse and foot, in search of their
companions at our post.

I was first spied by a woman who was walking ahead. Instantly she
cried out, “Ista uwatse! Ista uwatse!” (“Iron eyes”—spectacles).
That was the name I was immediately given by those Indians, because
spectacles on a person were to them such an amazing characteristic.
Towa called me “Ista mantugra”, which has the same meaning as the
above, but the Assiniboin designated me as “Ista topa” (Four Eyes) .°°
I had to shake hands with them all; Le Loup Court Queue was
friendly and wished to know how soon I would return to Fort Union.
He would await me with Nez d’Ours. Under the impression that he
would be able to see as well through my spectacles as with the tele-
scope, he was eager to get possession of them. To convince him of his
wrong idea I put them on his nose. With his keen eyes he was unable
to see anything at all through the spectacles, of course, and became
all the more wonderstruck. As this is the only pair I have with me,
I could not surrender the inartistic but (for me, I am sorry to say)
indispensable decoration. What would I not give for a pair of
Indian eyes.

And yet it is much better, perhaps, that my eyesight incapacitates
me for the chase; with my passion for horses and for wandering, my
inclination toward romantic adventure, I might become an Indian
myself, especially since the difficulties in the way of providing an
adequate income in overpopulated, civilized States has deprived me
of the desire to return. At the same time I cannot tarry here always
for the purpose of fulfilling my plans. I have to go back whether
I will or no. Is it really for the sake of my unalterable resolution to
carry through my plans, to put my ideas into execution? Perhaps
I shall never know. If I were sure of that I should be happy, no
matter how great the storm and stress.

What sly dogs these Indians are. How well they know the way to
put the fur-traders’ teaching to their own use. Now, why did Le

80 Remarkable that in so many languages “Ista” means “eyes.’’

198 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

Loup Court Queue," a customer of our company, sleep all night at
the opposition fort and allow himself to be entertained there? Joe
Picotte says the Arikara destroyed Dorson’s fort and, on the other
hand, left his intact, because they prefer the opposition to the big
company, particularly since the latter no longer grants favors or
courtesies to any one. But the Arikara in this region plundered both
posts alike. Why was that? No; these Indians simply wish to be
accommodated with board and lodging at both trading posts.

One cannot rely on stories like that of Joe’s, but I do not credit such
lies to Nez d’Ours and |’Estomac de Corbeau,®? braves with such
pride as theirs would not stoop; besides, they conducted themselves as
befits loyal customers, came directly here without allowing themselves
to be seen at the opposition fort. L’Estomac de Corbeau was most
affable toward me; he sat with me beside the open fire almost the
whole of yesterday and today, smoked, talked now and then, watched
me curiously when I was writing or painting. Their object in making
this visit to the Crows, I understand, is to procure horses for them-
selves and to induce the latter to take maize from them, for they have
such an abundant crop this year they are at a loss to know what shall
be done with it.

Such laughter, such chattering and pranks I have never witnessed
among Indians anywhere as these Herantsa carried on at Packinaud’s
sickbed. Packinaud lived 9 years among the Herantsa. He is, in
fact, connected with many of them through his Herantsa wife, speaks
their language well, and can outdo them in singing and howling.
Perhaps the Indians are companionable with him for the reason that
they have lived so much together—or is it that wanderers are more
unrestrained, more crude, more unthinking, so to speak? Perhaps
they were expressing their joy at seeing him again.

Packinaud came here for the first time on the St. Ange to be
employed as either hunter or interpreter among the Crows.

Mr. Denig, thinking he would greatly please the Herantsa, told
them how highly he respected their chief, Four Bears. His flattery
did not commend him to their favor, however, for every soldier among
them regards himself worthy of quite as much respect as a chief.
Le Loup Court Queue replied that he, and “Raven Stomach” as well,
bring far more robes for trade than the chief brings. The chiefs,
they said, are old-fashioned personages, severe, taciturn, unable to see
a joke, quick to lay low any young man who opposes them ; hence they
are not so well understood or loved as they might be. Whereupon
Mr. Denig assured them that he knew well they were all gallant war-

8 The Short-tailed Wolf.
®J. e., Raven’s Stomach.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 199

riors, but their chief was a man of more understanding, was less super-
stitious, and had better judgment in conducting the affairs of a nation.

“Now I will see what they think of the portrait—vas?” he remarked
aside to me.

They recognized Mr. Denig’s picture immediately upon entering
the office, strode up to it, and offered to shake hands. As they found
no response whatsoever on the part of the image they were extraor-
dinarily astonished. They placed their fingers on their lips in token
of their amazement. No living person was standing there; the image
was not reflected in a mirror; they found the solution of this mystery
beyond them.

Natoh’s picture they recognized instantly also, but could not com-
prehend why one would pay such honor to a dog. As they had seen
the parrot before on board the St. Ange, they did not find Polly such
a curiosity as did the Cree. Polly came on the same boat with me from
St. Louis. After they had inspected the white lady on the wall in
the reception room, examining her from every side, even from heels
to head, Mr. Denig asked them whether they believed that he or his
dog must inevitably die on account of this. Without saying a word,
they drew their blankets over their heads and went out of the room.
Later on they expressed a desire to see my quarters also, but they
found so many things there that they wanted and began to beg so,
first for one thing and then another—my knife, tobacco, pipe, matches,
comb, mirror, even the clothes on my back—I soon had enough of
them. As Iam no longer living among the Herantsa, I refused to give
them anything; I shall bestow nothing else for the sake of their good
will. If I were to give them presents they would think, most likely,
that I was actuated by fear. L’Estomac de Corbeau was the only one
who conducted himself differently; he seemed to scorn his noisy
tribesmen and to prefer the quiet in my room.

Mr. Denig is constantly talking to me about the worthlessness and
incapacity of engagees—not an interesting subject; though what he
says is more or less true, such conversations are not agreeable. He
complains about them so much that I used to think he felt it neces-
sary to justify his severe treatment of the “hands” according to the
saying: “The dog struck gives a yelp.” I observe now that he wishes
me to understand how I am to demean myself—what attitude he
expects me to take as clerk. He knows how engagees find fault with
him from one year’s end to the other, have complained about him
already in St. Louis so much that employees invariably say, “Only
not to Fort Union,” as though the place were a convict prison. Why
is he in such bad repute? Merely for the reason that he makes them

work; because he does not allow them to be idle the livelong day
81634—37——14

200 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

except when they are feeding. For their labor they are paid well
and also promptly, receiving as a rule goods from the store to the
amount of their wages before they have earned them. If they are
allowed to fall deeply into debt, if credit is given them for their
year’s pay, they abscond and enter the employ of the opposition.*°

They exert themselves only to escape work by subterfuges and to
fill their stomachs. They are idle by nature, and this trait is intensi-
fied by dislike of their employer; they are lazy because they know
there is nobody in this part of the world to take their place; they are
boastful and insatiable. Mr. Denig expects the clerks to support him
in every emergency, whether brought about by dangers from the out-
side or within the fort, to shoot down any person who attempts to lay
hand on him, to take part in affairs with the workmen, never yield a
point with them, treat them like dogs. Mackenzie told me how the
engagees in the lumber yard fled at sight of him when he and the
horse guard came near them on their return from the recent hunt.
- Although they were expecting him to bring them meat, they took for
granted, upon seeing him and his pack horses in the distance, that
they were looking at Indians, and having abandoned guns and axes,
they ran to Morgan in extreme fear, crying “Indians! Indians!”
Morgan recognized instantly the supposed redskins, called his gal-
lant band together, and gave them a scolding. Mackenzie left them a
full lading of meat, as much as one horse could carry, and they
devoured it all in 2 days. He left, in other words, a load of meat
weighing 250 pounds, which, divided among 6 men, makes 20 pounds
per day for each laborer.**

Morgan, their foreman, does not dare wander about with his gun,
but must give his attention exclusively to the men, for otherwise they
will do no work.

October 17. Slept little last night. First, the Herantsa sang their
war song. As I was getting to bed they began another chant in the
interpreter’s room and accompanied their singing with the drum.
Of course, I could not fall asleep. After tossing from one side to the
other for ever so long, I lost all patience, and, throwing my cloak
about me, went to find out just what the hubbub was about. The
room, dimly lighted by the open fire and one candle, was crowded with
performers and onlookers made up of redskins, white people, and
half-breeds. According to Indian custom, eight Herantsa and seven
Assiniboin sat opposite one another on the floor, encircled about a
pile of bows, quivers, knives, calico, etc., and were playing a game.

83 Not less than 12 newly employed engagees of the big company went over to the
opposition in the following May at St. Louis, after each of them had received, besides
spending money, blankets and clothes charged to their accounts.

If one deducts therefrom about 5 pounds for bones there remains still a goodly
portion of meat. They are most extraordinary eaters.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 201

Two Assiniboin were making motions in every direction with their
fists, or rather with their closed hands, swiftly passing, in the mean-
time, a bullet-ball from one hand to the other, while the other mem-
bers of their party sang “e, e, e, eh, e, e, e, ah”, keeping time by beating
a tattoo with sticks on washbasins and boiler tops. In an excited
state of eager expectation, both singers and players swayed their
bodies continually from the hips. One of the Herantsa who had laid
the stake in opposition to the two Assiniboin had to guess where, 1. e.,
in which of the two players’ fists, the bullet was to be found.

When he felt sure that he knew he made a quick thrust with his left
arm in the direction of the fist in which he supposed the ball to be,
struck violently on his breast with his right hand, and, with a cry,
designated the fist mentioned. If he failed to guess the right one, the
winners whooped for joy and gathered in their stakes. Then they
relayed, smoked reciprocally from the same pipe as a mark of con-
tinued friendship. Then other contestants began the same game over
again. One of the Herantsa wished to make himself particularly
conspicuous. He sat nearest the fireplace. He raked out all the ashes
in front of him and concealed the bullet there, or rather he tried to
make his opponents think that he did. He moved his fists among
the ashes in imitation of a buffalo working his way through mud and
mire or rolling over in the dust; he grumbled and bellowed the
while like an angry bull, threw ashes all over himself and around
him, pawed and groaned like one possessed. His mimicry was un-
equaled. Hunters are, as a rule, particularly clever in imitating the
movements and sounds made by beasts of the chase. They certainly
have opportunities enough to study them, and they make use of such
in their dances and sports. After an Assiniboin had won almost
every stake the Herantsa had put up they stopped the game.

After breakfast this morning the Herantsa took their leave. They
were to be put across the river near the timber yard because that is
the place where the boats are kept. Therefore, to prevent our valiant
engagees from taking flight upon the approach of Indians, Macken-
zie mounted his favorite runner, John, and rode on ahead to see that
the boats were in readiness. While Mr. Denig was tarrying below the
gate for Owen McKenzie’s return he saw a large herd of antelopes
bounding out of a wooded coulee and on to the prairie. He called me
at once from my room. There were forty of them, at least, sweeping
along one behind the other, and a horseman was close behind them.
We took the rider to be an Indian. But when we saw him in a mad
gallop constantly gaining on the cabris we doubted whether any
Indian’s horse would be able to overtake those swiftest of all wild
beasts on the prairie. Indians’ runners are too insufficiently nour-
ished ; therefore they lack brawn, endurance, and wind. With the aid

202 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

of my telescope I recognized Mackenzie just as he was turning his
course from pursuit of the herd, which had escaped in hollows and
dells among the hills. As he turned his horse’s head in our direction
my heart leaped to see John so full of fire and energy. Mackenzie
could hardly restrain him. He had to make him gallop sidewise,
which he succeeded in doing with the utmost grace and skill.

Owen is the one and only horseman whom I have seen ride side-
wise on this continent. My mustang, Fashion, learned that gait
quite easily. How proudly, how lightly and gracefully she threw her
little feet. All Americans ride, but how? More often than other-
wise they hold on by the pommel of their saddles. If Owen had
had his gun, several antelopes would have fallen victim to his skill.
He is now provided with half of his supply of goods for his winter
quarters on the lower Bourbeuse. While assisting in getting his wares
together I was led to reflect how much more simple a matter it is for
the bourgeois to say, “Bring that keg of bullets from the powder
magazine at the rear of the warehouse”, a distance of at least a hun-
dred paces, than it is for me to do it. To carry 300 pounds in one’s
arms is no simple matter.

After sunset three fat hinds came out of a nearby thicket and took
a walk on the prairie. I watched them a long while, and with much
interest.

October 18. According to La Bombarde, Indian words in most
common use here are all from the Chippewa speech or from the re-
lated Cree language: Moccasin, shoe; ihqua, wife; musqua, my wife;
wigwam, tent; apischimo, saddle blanket; mikawne, bivouac of a
hunting party; papuchs, child; mitass, leggings; wuasch, sink hole;
sumite, pemmican.

This morning four Cree came galloping to the fort from the hol-
low below our garden to announce the approach of a band and to get
tobacco with which to welcome the newcomers. They said that while
they were concealed behind shrubbery in the sunken stream bed they
noticed three strange Indians whom they took to be enemies. As
soon as they received the tobacco the four Cree hastened to greet their
friends and conduct them to the fort. Joe Picotte, who had already
sent out to them 45 plugs of tobacco and 6 pounds of vermillion to
entice these customers from us, won only two to his side. It is really
to the Indians’ interest to deal with the opposition, because, but for
that post they would have to pay twice as much for the goods they
buy. The two disloyal Cree, however, did not fare so well, for the
reason that they did not have as much cured meat for barter as Joe’s
eift was worth. Joe gave them a piece of his mind when, after hav-
ing received all of his tobacco and vermillion, which, of course, was a
high price to pay for the small amount of meat they brought, the
two families desired, in addition, to be fed and lodged at his post.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 203

The two leaders of this band of Cree, Rassade au Cou ** and Bras
Casse,®° now told how they had driven those three suspected Indians
from their hiding place and had spoken to them, but did not under-
stand their dialect.

They were on foot and had ropes bound about their bodies; hence
were horse thieves. But, since all Indians have the same sign lan-
guage, they are always able to make themselves understood, no matter
who they may be or whence they come; therefore Mr. Denig supposed
them to be Cree from some other band whom these chiefs would not
betray.

Morgan came down the river this evening with his two rafts and
the flatboat.

October 19. This morning Le Tout Piqué* brought in another
crowd of Cree, including women and children. Some time ago I
painted a flat pipestem white and sky blue in alternating fields, and
in the four white fields I painted, respectively, a buffalo, a wolf, an
owl, and a bear. This pipe I presented to Piqué. The smoking of
this pipe for the first time was to be celebrated with great ceremony
in the office; 1. e., an address on the part of Le Tout Piqué and the
smoking of the pipe on the part of all braves in company with the
bourgeois. Mr. Denig had the kindness to invite me to be present.*®

I found Battiste sitting in the middle of the room as interpreter;
on the floor beside him lay a beautiful buffalo robe. Against the
walls braves of both bands were squatting in close rows. Rassade au
Cou, Bras Casse, and one other were seated on a sofa. In front of
them and directly opposite Mr. Denig stood Le Tout Piqué. When I
entered and modestly took my seat in a corner Piqué asked Mr. Denig,
through the interpreter, who I was.

“A trader from below”, replied the bourgeois. I had to sit behind
Mr. Denig. A common engagee is no part of a soldier and not worthy
of notice. With much dignity of port Piqué now came forward, put
the handsome buffalo robe about Mr. Denig’s shoulders, and, holding
the new peace pipe in his right hand, offered us his left in greeting.
Then, grasping his robe with his right hand, he took two steps back-
ward and began his speech. He had been brought up, he said, a
patron of this fort, was a loyal adherent, never brought even one skin
to the opposition. He had left 50 tents of his band at home; they
were awaiting news of his reception here; i. e., they wished to know
whether he were treated well. The chief delivered his address in

% Bead for the Neck.

86 Broken or Crushed Arm.

87 Fully tattooed.

88In return, Mr. Denig was permitted to pass himself off as painter of the pipestem.
He entreated me not to laugh when I witnessed a scene which to me would seem no doubt
perfectly nonsensical. But it was only his own air of official gravity, when clothed in
the buffalo robe, that I could have found ridiculous.

204 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLD. 115

sections and at the end of each Battiste interpreted what had been
said. Battiste did not use English, but only French, which he spoke
not by any means well, repeating his words continually and making
altogether a bungling effort that was out of keeping with so solemn a
ceremonial.

Tn his reply Mr. Denig promised friendship and fair prices; where-
upon a distinguished brave lighted the pipe and gravely extended it
toward the bourgeois. Each of us took several whiffs with becoming
seriousness, and then the soldier proffered it to his chief, who had
remained standing erect and dignified in the same place where he had
stood while addressing the assemblage. He took the peace pipe in
his hands, held it aloft, and then lowered it, pointing with the tip of
the stem toward the earth, toward sunrise and sunset, smoked him-
self, and returned the pipe to the master of ceremonies. Luckily the
interpreter was the last of us three to smoke, for, being acquainted
already with their manner of conducting this ceremony, he drew so
vigorously as to rekindle the tobacco; otherwise, while Piqué was
propitiating the heavens (good spirits), earth, and sun, the pipe
might have gone out, and that would have been regarded as a bad
omen. The pipe bearer next invited the assembled braves to smoke,
each according to his rank, a ticklish business. Then the guests were
served baked meats and sweetened coffee, which they were invited to
clistribute themselves, so that no one might think he was slighted or
neglected by a white man.

Every time a band of Indians annoys Mr. Denig with their beg-
ging he flees to me and unburdens his heart by calling them names.
At such times he bestows much praise on other Indians who are not
here but who get their share of abuse also at some future time. He
is always in the best humor with Indians when none are around. He
longs for them in matters of trade; he then prefers them to all other
people, his own countrymen not excepted. Today the red men who
were at the fort stood high in his esteem, but since they have shown
that his many courtesies only encouraged them to beg, to expect
presents, he thinks them good for nothing, not worthy to unloose the
shoe latches of Indians who inhabit the eastern domain. They would
rather see enemies of their own race go to ruin than to combine with
them against the whites. They are more given to superstition than
Indians in the East, he declares, less intelligent, not so brave, and,
so far as he knows, they have nowhere a regularly constituted leader,
etc. But one must consider that tribes of the eastern domain had their
wits sharpened through many years of warfare; they received their
instruction by constant intercourse with white people of various
nations; they became more wise by contemplation of unending losses.
How often have hostile tribes of redskins in the East combined

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 205

against the common foe, and for how long a time? One may con-
sider, also, the small number of distinguished leaders and counsellors
among them within a hundred years; and, in proportion to their
superior knowledge, the white race has produced even fewer.

Mr. Denig assured me I should count myself happy that, owing to
my nearsightedness, I was prevented from entering fully upon the
Indian mode of life. Unless a white man were rich he became the
sport of savages when he went about naked and wore long hair reach-
ing to his shoulde:s, as was the practice with some men at Fort Alex-
ander on the Yelfowstone. Indians esteem a white person only when
he gives evidenc« of talents that they do not themselves possess. They
would never respect any white man more highly than themselves as
hunter or soldier. So far as he is concerned, he would never desire to
adopt the life of an Indian unless, by large means, he could establish
important connections through many marriages and win their venera-
tion with the aid of chemistry, medicine, or by the art of jugglery.
What he affirms in this regard has been proved in the case of Neldrum,
bourgeois at that trading post among the Crows, Fort Alexander.
Though Neldrum is a soldier of note, his scalps and his trophies from
the hunt have not won him influence among the Absaroka; he is
esteemed for his prodigal liberality, on account of which he has fallen
into debt instead of accumulating money. He is said to be an efficient
gunsmith, but not an especially shrewd business man. If, through
ambition or vanity, he aspires to take the lead in establishing a widely
extended family connection, certain Crows of consequence become
immediately jealous and go to the opposition or come here to barter
their buffalo robes.

October 22. As Morgan has been sent with a complete assortment
of goods to Vice de Carafel’s winter quarters I am going to have at
least 2 days’ peace. He is rarely at the fort; so he has no regular bed,
but takes up quarters always in my room. I admit he is a most civil,
well-educated Scot, but he is incessantly on the move, constantly open-
ing and shutting the door, his three dogs following behind. Anyone
who supposes he can concentrate his attention on writing or drawing
under such circumstances, I say only, just let him try it. Last Mon-
day I found on the river bank a pair of fat Virginia deer. Upon the
occasion of our first snowfall at this place, yesterday, I had to carry
a letter to Fort William in the face of a biting west wind.

After our midday meal I helped to bury two papooses that were
brought here by some Assiniboin. An old mourner made a speech at
the grave expressing gratitude, which is said to have shown him to be
a man of much intelligence. In the evening the two hunters, Smith
and Cadotte, arrived, bringing some horses taken from the Blackfeet.
Their Indian women have longed for their return. On the way,

206 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

expecting no thievery on the part of Assiniboin, our supposed friends,
they did not guard the drove, and in consequence were robbed of ten
horses, including some of their most excellent runners.

They brought news, also, of seven Assiniboin who, 3 months ago,
were out on the war path against the Blackfeet Tribe to win renown
for themselves, and were all killed, as was to be expected. At the
same time they had already taken eight scalps from the Blackfeet
and had wounded some 20 more of the enemy in the neighborhood
of a village. Then one of the chiefs called his people together and
rebuked them for their disgrace in permitting such a small hostile
force to approach near enough to do so much mischief. At the
head of 200 horsemen he overcame the concealed Assiniboin and
destroyed them all.

Today Nai, with his wife and crew of assistants, set out for his
winter quarters on the lower Bourbeuse, traveling in a keel boat
loaded with commodities. They made an attractive picture: Nai
was standing at the helm, his young wife was sitting on the covered
bales of goods in front of him, holding his gun, three men were at
the oars, an old woman was leaning against the bales. On shore
two beautiful Assiniboin girls were harnessing a black wolfhound
to a travois. Other girls were picking berries among the autumn
shrubs.

In so far as natural scenes arouse in us poetic ideas and emotions
(that is, by analogy the actual landscape before us suggests thoughts
of the inner life and inspires us to serious contemplation and to lofty
feeling), they are subjects worthy the contemplation of an imagi-
native artist. Even this passive, dead scene, so to speak, can, under
certain circumstances, make a poetic appeal. Sun, moon, rocks,
streams, trees, woods, plain, clouds, springs, storm, mists, night, etc.,
all have their especial characteristics bearing, in many ways, close
relations to our own and therefore serve, respectively, the artist’s
purpose.

Cadotte, who arrived yesterday from the Blackfeet territory, is
regarded as the best stag hunter in this region.®*® He is a genuine
“Mountaineer”, possessing to a marked degree both their good and
their less favorable qualities. He is unrivaled in the skill of start-
ing, pursuing, approaching, shooting, and carving a deer. In other
respects he is heedless, wasteful, and foolhardy—half Canadian,
half Cree.

Dauphen, another of the same sort, lives an isolated life on the
prairie with his two wives. He left the opposition in debt, and now
hunts on his own account. Assiniboin look with disfavor on such

§0 As they cxpress themselves here, ‘‘even beats Packinaud shucks.’’

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 907

independent characters who are without friends and have no busi-
ness connections anywhere. If he by chance once spoils a hunt
which they have arranged he can jolly well count on a good drubbing
and the loss of all that he owns.

But for the relatives of his wives he would have been driven away
long ago. Although he was formerly a trapper and followed the
related business of trader, he can no longer find employment with
either of the companies, on account of his questionable character;
he has defrauded both of them.

Once, when Mr. Denig was journeying across the prairie with the
drinker, Dorion, who was serving him as interpreter, they wandered
into a company of hot-brained Sioux. Dorion owned a strong-
limbed, bad-tempered pack horse that was being urged on with the
entire gang. This animal gave an Indian boy such a kick on his
forehead that for quite a while he was thought to be dead. Dorion,
of Iowa blood himself, knew at once what he had to do to get himself
out of the pickle. He was aware of the fact that Indians do not
excuse such accidents any more than they pardon the unintentional
killing of a relative. He seized the nag’s halter, with no more ado,
and gave the beast to the boy’s father. Dorion was not to blame for
the misadventure, but he was certain that in the event of intense suf-
fering or of the death of that boy, the father would, first of all, slay
the horse, and it depended upon circumstances whether he would not
exercise his vengefulness upon the animal’s owner as well. In order
to forestall any such unpleasantness, he presented also his own riding
horse, which appeased the father and saved himself from conse-
quences of present or future wrath. A white man would have raised
a quarrel, in the event the father sought revenge, or else he would
have killed the Indian; but Dorion conformed to the custom of the
people among whom he lived.

I was making inquiry concerning that story Charles Martin told
me when I met him at Council Bluffs with his Mackinaw boats, about
his friend Lambert’s having pursued an American from Missouri all
the way to Fort Hall in Oregon for the purpose of killing him, be-
cause the latter ran away with “his old woman.” Mr. Denig holds a
totally different opinion concerning that so-called heroic deed. Not
that he calls into question the daring of the man, but declares that in
doing what he did he turned his ability as soldier, hunter, or, in other
words, as Indian, to wrong use. No Indian brave dares take his wife’s
elopement to heart; at least he dares not manifest his*feeling by any
outward act; he would be made a laughingstock if he took one step
toward bringing her back. Accordingly, if a white man adopts the
Indian life and customs he is to take for his models braves of promi-
nence, not young bucks. Mr. Denig maintains, furthermore, that

208 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

even from the standpoint of a white man, Lambert acted unwisely;
for, notwithstanding the fact that his fee brought back his run-
away wife and having got the better of her abductor bespeaks, in a
way, courage, perseverance, and shrewdness on his part, his act did
not bring back happiness to either of them.

So the bourgeois thinks it much better for a man to treat the mat-
ter lightly when an unfaithful wife runs off and buy himself another
at once. Lambert’s chase all alone to Oregon was a daring exploit,
but what did he gain by going in pursuit of an erring wife, only in
the end to take her life? For, as the story goes, after having fol-
lowed his “blonde”, whom he very truly loved, across a wide tract of
wild country, through the domain of several hostile Indian tribes,
Lambert came at last upon the fugitives at Fort Hall. His wife tried
to offer excuses and by flattery to appease him. Meanwhile, she
enticed him out on the prairie, where his enemy, the American, came
to meet him. By the advice of her lover, the woman removed the
bullet from Lambert’s gun, but he discovered that treachery, fortu-
nately, before it was too late. Having replaced the ball, he shot his
enemy down, to the great amazement and grief of his “blonde.” But
he brought her down, also, in his rage over her deceit. He took his
vengeance—a two-fold vengeance.

Mr. Denig confirms the report, also, that Indian mothers now and
then forcibly bring about miscarriages, either by taking a strong
drink or by means of the stick with which they grub for pommes
blanches.*! This stick which is pointed at one end and provided with
a knob at the other, upon which the weight of the body can be thrown
in such a way as to drive the point under the roots with little exer-
tion, they use for killing their infants by pressing the pointed end
below the heart at time of delivery or else by pressing the lower part
of the body violently upon the knob.

Not infrequently they throw their newborn babes into the river
and drown them. Why do they commit these crimes? They have,
then, no love for their children? On the contrary, their maternal
affection is strong except when, on account of a child, they lose the
love of their “hubbies.” A pregnant wife is repugnant to an Indian;
he turns to another. That vexes the loving wife in her turn, for her
husband constantly ignores her on account of her being with child.
She tries to shorten the period of pregnancy in order to be again
loved. What we call children born out of wedlock had often such a
fate as I have described; they are proof of the mother’s loss of virtue
in an earlier love affair. Such mothers, having been deserted, in their
bitterness of heart put their little daughters to death, feeling that
they are better out of the world than exposed to the harsh experi-

%l Prairie turnip, the teep-se-nah of the Assiniboin.

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 209

ences of this life. Owing to this same repugnance on the part of their
husbands, mothers suckle their children until the fourth or fifth year;
it always impressed me as so droll to see boys with bows and arrows
in their hands nursing like babes at their mother’s breasts.

Tomorrow we begin our domestic plan for only two meals a day:
late breakfast, early supper. Days are so short that meals come too
near together. Makes the cook surly, Mr. Denig told me, as if he
felt obliged to offer some excuse. As if his evident purpose were not
to have us eat less. “In cold winter weather one’s appetite is keener”,
I replied.

October 23. Mr. Denig gave me a buffalo horn that some time ago
had been polished by Owen Mackenzie for a powder horn. It is
very large and lustrous black. Cow horns are too small; those of
fully matured bulls are broken into splinters by their fighting.
Morgan is back again. While he was away I had to do his work
both as clerk and foreman. Packinaud is still confined to his bed;
he cannot stand on his broken shank. I have to look after him.
So, for 2 days, having been the only clerk besides, I have had a
great deal of work to do. But I would rather make myself useful
than be a “bore.”

October 24. We buried another Assiniboin papoose. Afterwards,
when Mr. Denig wished to smoke with the mourning relatives, he
could find nowhere any of the small leaves that Indians in this
region mix with the commonly known American tobacco. He sent
me to a nearby copse to cut some twigs of the upland willow, so
that he might show me what sort of tobacco (mixture) is used by
the Sioux. I hurried out and, with my scalp knife, cut off just
above the root an armful of young shrubs about the size of a man’s
finger. I brought them back and we first removed carefully with a
knife the outer red bark and threw it away; then we beat off the
bast, dried it at the fire, cut it up fine, and mixed it with American
tobacco. This willow bast fiber is said not to dry out so well as
that earlier used, nor is the smell of it so aromatic. At midday
Morgan and I were treated with a splendid cold breakfast or lunch.
Mr. Denig served crackers and butter, pickles, sardines, cheese, and
excellent hardtack—real luxuries in this part of the world. ‘Then
we cut another load of ozier shrubs, brought them in, stripped off
the bast, and dried it. As smoking in Indian ceremonies is a strict
requirement according to Indian etiquette this mixture must be just
as scrupulously provided for as food. Morgan occupied Carafel’s
bed; so, whenever he and his dogs met Mr. Denig and his doggie
there was war in my room. Hoka is particularly jealous and
vicious. Mr. Denig had to admonish Packinaud again this evening
to wash his wounded leg himself in order to make our work less

210 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

disagreeable. For 21 days, mornings and evenings, I have washed
and salved his wound, a service that he or his stupid wife might
just as easily perform. He seems never to have once thought of
keeping the wound clean, though we have often told him the flesh
was as black as a negro’s.

October 25. With the remains of a lap dog we entrapped our first
wolf. In laying the snare they dig a hole 3 inches deep so that
the trap lies even with the ground, and then they cover it with earth,
grass, buffalo chips, ete.

A wolf or a fox, attracted by carrion, steps unawares upon the
springs and his leg is caught. To prevent his running off with the
trap the latter is fastened by means of an attached chain to a
heavy log or trunk of a tree. For fear of unnecessarily piercing
his pelt, an animal caught thus is never shot, but killed by a blow
on the head with a bludgeon.

I spent almost the entire evening discussing religion with Mr.
Denig. Though both of us are Protestant, we are agreed that the
Catholic religion is better suited to the civilizing of barbarous people
than our own Protestant faith. We know that uneducated tribes
with their limited understanding find it impossible to grasp purely
abstract teaching and, therefore, such appeals make no impression
upon them whatsoever. Savages must, first of all, be inspired with
awe by means of visible, mystic symbols, and influenced through
their feelings. Nor can they be expected to have a grasp of the
by no means inconsiderable knowledge of history and geography
that is necessary for even a slight understanding of our religion.
I was here interrupted by Morgan, who wished me to accompany
him to his traps. We found, this time, a gray fox that I struck
dead and brought home to paint for Morgan. These animals are
full of fleas. Earlier, there lived here for a time a Jesuit, Pére
Point, who tried to inculcate strict morality. They let him preach
without any opposition until he began to reproach Mr. Denig with
a plurality of wives.

The bourgeois replied that his older wife was sickly, but he still
kept her for their daughter’s sake and for the reason that she had
always conducted herself well; he was not one of those who think
that man was given strong passions by Nature merely to be contin-
ually tormented, merely to crucify the flesh without ceasing, because,
owing to circumstances, he might not have a wife or, if the first wife
was incapacitated, he might not get a second helpmate. A man in
his situation would have in the States sufficient grounds for divorce,
but he refused to cast off a good woman who was not to blame for
her condition. “You join together Indian women and dissolute men
with your holy rites, not a word of which the women understand

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ Zk

and just as little the men regard. Since they do not know what they
promise in the ceremony, they make false vows from which you
are again quite ready to release them upon presentation of a gift.
Are not such things done in the name of religion? Do you not
thereby give licentiousness the semblance of your sanction?”

When we went again to look after our traps we found that the
carcass had been dragged quite a distance away by wolves. Our
Spanish horse guard told us in his Spanish-French-English jargon:
“Jamme wolf dragge de carcasse way from de trappe. No seen una
pareilla chose. Ni now putte horse’s snoute on de pickette, de wolf
no more carry awaye.”

Night scenes here are decidedly picturesque. Armed with guns
and hunting knives and provided with lanterns, we moved across the
dusky prairie that seems to have neither beginning nor end but to
melt into the wide heaven from which it can be distinguished only
by scattered stars. About us are the captured animals struggling
and gnashing their teeth, the dead just removed from the traps. The
concentrated glow of lanterns, while the traps are being set once
more, the hunters’ original attire, the dark background, all combine
to form a picture at once suggestive of animated life and awe.

October 26. At daybreak we found two gray foxes in the traps.
Painted a picture of one of them. In the study of hairy beasts
water colors are of little advantage, pointed brushes of still less.
For reproducing the curl of hair, broad oil brushes are best. By
adroit manipulation of the latter the effect is achieved, whereas with
pointed brushes one has to draw hair for hair.

As evening came on I was reading Alison’s Essays when Mr. Denig
entered, much surprised that I was not on the river bank. Herantsa
were there to be put across. Morgan had already left some time ago
to fetch them. Three Assiniboin, together with the berdache (her-
maphrodites are frequent), on their way to visit the Crows, were
slain by Blackfeet.

“And you sitting so quietly here by the fire, while all the rest of us
are in spasms of curiosity. Man, you are not keeping up with the
times !”

Out I went, taking my telescope with me, but I was unable to recog-
nize any Herantsa. There were too many women.

There were also white people, who kept their horses separate from
the others. An Assiniboin woman came down to the sandy shore
erying aloud, and struck the ground three times with her buffalo
robe as a sign that she had lost three of her people. The other
Indians were no less distinguished visitors than the noted chief of the
Absaroka and his most celebrated braves. That is, this chief, Rot-
tentail, is their leader on this side of the mountains; on the other side,

219 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 115

Big Robert is chief. As Packinaud speaks the Herantsa language, a
dialect, fluently and has the distinction, therefore, of being our one
and only interpreter for Absaroka, these great celebrities had to be

conducted to his room. Rottentail’s resemblance to Louis Philippe —
of blessed memory struck me at once: the same capable expression of |

citoyen, the same shrewd look of merchant, the same official mien.
T was sorry that he did not wear the Indian style of dress rather than
the American. His suit of clothes was fashioned from a blue blanket.
He wore gray leggings but no shirt, no vest, neither neckcloth nor
hat.

As soon as the Crow women had brought in their heavy bundles and
everything was in order Rottentail produced a superb military head-
dress, which he put on the bourgeois’ head, and hung a handsome
buffalo robe on his shoulders. Denig looked comical enough, but no
one dared laugh. The pipe was lighted and offered by Packinaud to
the chief; then each smoked in his turn.

Hotteheaal began to relate how the Herantsa endeavored to dite
them from coming here, saying that we were afflicted with dangerous
diseases: the lives of himself and his followers would be snuffed out.
However, his heart was strong and his friendship for Mr. Denig not
to be shaken. The Herantsa, conscious of their double dealing, took
another route in their return home (but the scoundrels had been
well treated). While Rottentail was speaking the name Ista uwatse
did not escape me, neither did his obvious reference to myself.
Packinaud does not interpret word for word, but only what seems
to him worth while. Mr. Denig asked that his thanks be conveyed
for assurances of friendship and good faith on the part of the chief,
and said he should soon be convinced that nobody at Fort. Union
was sick. While the Absaroka were being served meats, crackers,
and sweetened tea in the office I dressed the wound on Packinaud’s
leg. I asked him, meanwhile, what had been said about me. Noth-
ing. But I was too well acquainted with the Indian sign language
to believe that nothing had been said concerning me. I saw Rotten-
tail indicate me two different times with his finger, then make the
sign for writing or drawing, then, of becoming ill and dying. More-
over, when I went with the horse guard to examine the traps he said
to me: “Crows tell me Gros Ventres say you bringue de cholera up,
and make all you painte die—heape die!” So that was it—lies and
false reports.

October 27. Caught a wolf. Brought him in to serve as model
for a study. There are wolves here of great size and also prairie
wolves, which are much smaller; the latter appear to be half fox.
Of the large species there are many different colors, varying ac-
cording to age and season of the year: black, brown, yellow, gray

Kurz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ via fs3

mixed, snow white. To set more than two traps with one carcass is
useless, for noise made by the captured animals drives others away.
And when the dog used for baiting the trap is consumed one has to
strew small pieces of meat over the concealed trap and all round
about in order to ensnare the animals.

Bearshead, the chief in command of the soldiers, is a warrior of
great ability and power. He gave Packinaud a long account of their
journeyings and dangers, their experiences on the chase, their battles
and the hunger they endured, since last winter. Every time they
are obliged to take the far journey over barren plains and wild
mountain ranges to purchase horses from the Flatheads they suffer
terribly from hunger. As Bearshead spoke just as distinctly by
means of signs as by words, I understood everything; he took much
pleasure in seeing me so attentive. The portraits pleased him, also,
I feel sure, but upon looking at them he shook his head. When
these braves heard the parrot coughing one of them said at once
that Polly had the same disease from which they themselves suffered
last winter, and they might catch influenza again.

Because Rottentail was given a piece of painted cloth by Mr. Denig
last winter, very large and diaphanous, the latter was blamed for
causing that epidemic just as I am censured now. Yet Rottentail
related with evident pleasure how he had made use of the picture
to cover his pillow on which he always laid his head when he went
to sleep and invariably beheld Mr. Denig in his dream. The goodly
number of scalps (32) which he and his braves took from the Black-
feet he ascribes to that painting. Lucky for Mr. Denig, otherwise
he would not only have forfeited their esteem but would have lost
their patronage and brought injury to himself besides. Bearshead
wished very much to possess the banner with the painted eagle.

The six white men from Fort Alexander did not come over the
river in our boats, because they are deserters from this fort. They
belong now to the opposition; Joe Picotte sent them over in long
boats made of buffalo hides.

We received news from Bruyere, a trader in these parts; he
brought some commodities in a keel boat to Fort Alexander, where
he must wait at Nedrum’s for Mr. Culbertson. In the afternoon the
famous Absaroka amazon arrived. Mr. Denig called me to his
office that I might have an opportunity to see her. She looked neither
savage nor warlike. On the contrary, as I entered the room, she
sat with her hands in, her lap, folded, as when one prays. She is
about 45 years old; appears modest in manner and good natured
rather than quick to quarrel.

She gave Mr. Denig a genuine Blackfeet scalp which she had
captured herself. How amazed as well as overjoyed was I when

214 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Mr. Denig afterwards presented the long black scalp to me! A
scalp is an Indian curio of rare worth, for the reason that a brave
so very seldom parts with those trophies. My former father-in-law,
Kirutsche, brought me once, after long pleadings and promises, a
piece of leather on which was found some short black hair and would
have me believe it was a piece of skin from a human head. I took
it to be a piece of black bear’s hide. Our human scalp is very thick,
to be sure, and difficult to distinguish from an animal’s skin, but the
short, thick hair is not.

Relatives of the three Assinboin who were slain have planted a
pole and fastened thereon two leather pouches that belonged to the
dead. There for a long time they wailed and made blood-offerings
by cutting their arms, cheeks, heads, and legs until blood flowed.
One of the dead men is that Assiniboin who won the high stakes
from a Herantsa; he was a son of the Assiniboin chief L’Ours Fou
(Mad Bear) ; the other was called L’Homme de Nord, the same who
was relieved some time ago from eye trouble by Mr. Denig and re-
paid him by most annoying barefaced begging afterwards; the third
was Good Tobacco, a woman. She was taken by surprise while
asleep in her tent. The boy, son of L’Ours Fou, was attacked first.
He received eight wounds at the first onset and his hips were broken,
but he did not die until several days later, in the Crow village; he
was not scalped.

Some lads who were not in the tent, but had gone most likely with
the berdache ** to the Crows’ settlement, saved their skins, of course.
Absaroka in the vicinity heard the firing, mounted their horses at
once, and put the Blackfeet to flight. They followed a long distance
in pursuit, and when they came in sight of the enemy at last, found
them entrenched on a hill, having concealed themselves in a hole
they had dug. The Crows did not risk smoking them out of their
improvised redoubt. During the night the Blackfeet were able to
get away.

October 28. Absaroka are continually here; notwithstanding their
assurances of loyalty they go from one fort to the other, and allow
themselves to be lodged, fed, and presented with gifts; they seek the
place where they can trade to their best advantage, for they are ex-
ceedingly shrewd in business matters—a match for our traders.
When Rottentail returned from the opposition he said Joe Picotte
himself—not Bonaparte, his Crow interpreter, but the person in con-
trol of the fort—assured him repeatedly that I with my drawing
and painting spread the deadly infections, diseases; that I was to
blame for death among the Herantsa, who drove me away from their
settlement; that if he, Rottentail, and his braves should tarry long

s1a That is, hermaphrodite.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 215

in our neighborhood they would be blown to the moon. If that is not
carrying trade rivalry to the limit I am no judge of such matters.
The miserable wretch would put my life at stake for the sake of a few
buffalo robes!

What would one naturally expect of such a liar but that he would
sacrifice everything to his own selfish interest. I did not know why
he should have anything against me—or was it for that reason he
cheated me in St. Joseph? Envy of the big company is not his mo-
tive; furthermore, he had the commodities for these Crows sent to
Fort Alexander. Now that they are coming here, he has not a
sufficient stock of goods to furnish a continual supply to Assiniboin,
Crows, and Cree. So Joe would like to have the Absaroka go home,
and I am to be used as scarecrow to frighten them away. Crows have
no such idea that I shall bring death upon them with my painting, but
they might probably think I could do so by other means. Their minds
have been too diligently worked upon by our competitors and they
are too much dominated by superstition not to be affected in the end
by such influences. All this is especially annoying to me, because I
shall be the occasion, sooner or later, of injury to this company, to
whom, up to the present, I am indebted for much kindness. If it
comes to that, I may not remain here, unless I give up my art, and
that I will not do. Now that I am so near the accomplishment of
my aim, as far as my studies are concerned, I will not renounce the
realization of my dreams!

Though the Crows do not know from experience, as do Arikara, the
Mandan, and Herantsa, about the devastating epidemics, yet they
have heard about them.

The coming of the first artist was coincident with the breaking
out of smallpox; though the plague of cholera was without any such
coincidence, how can one get these Indians to believe that? This is
the third time things have so happened. Is not that sufficient proof
for superstitious people? And each time it was either a portrait
painter or a landscape painter that brought the deadly disease; the
painter of animals (Audubon) did not oppress them with pestilence.

What did Crows say last winter when influenza was so dangerously
prevalent among them? That Mr. Denig had avenged the theft of
10 horses by inflicting aching chests, bursting heads, and swift death.
They were confirmed in that fear by the fact that already 150 were
dead, counting among them some of their most prominent tribesmen,
while in the nearby Assiniboin camp there was not a sick person
{o be found. The Assiniboin were laughing about it. The Crows
swore revenge; came here and defied Mr. Denig to his face. He was
troubled in mind, but fearless in manner, though he regarded him-
self, really, a lost man. To prevent further spread of the disease, how-

81634—37—15

216 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

ever, the Indians brought back nine of the stolen horses. Then Mr.
Denig delivered a forcible speech in which he assured them he was
too good a friend to inflict upon them such a revenge for the loss of a
few horses. Nay, more, he was here for the purpose of bartering
for buffalo robes. If he should cause so many Crows to die, would
that help him to get robes?

But there was one Crow too wrathful, too much enraged by the loss
of his best beloved relatives to be appeased. Mr. Denig saw at once
what the man had in mind, so he walked up to him, looked him sternly
but calmly in the face and shouted: “Shoot, if you dare!” The
Indian fired his gun in the air.

A redskin thinks twice before he murders his trader; he is aware
of his dependence on the fur traders and of reciprocal interests that
unite them. But upon the death of their friends the tribes get beside
themselves sometimes, and if such bereavements follow swiftly one
upon the other they excite themselves further by wailings and com-
plaints. An Assiniboin brought news today that the mother of
L’Ours Fou’s boy had hanged herself with a rope because while at the
burial of her grandchild she heard of the death of her son, the father
of the little corpse lying before her. The shock proved too great for
the poor woman! Besides, she felt uneasy about her husband, the
chief, who was in constant insecurity among the palefaces at Fort
Laramie.

October 29. Absaroka withdrew as soon as they saw there was noth-
ing more to be had by begging. Summer and autumn are the dullest
seasons in trade hereabouts. Hides are not yet available; therefore
Indians have no medium of exchange. They must make preparations
then for the winter hunting, yet have no equipment and seldom have
credit. They keep, to be sure, a supply of cured meat, but that brings
in only less important things, such as knives, beads, calico, powder and
lead, not guns, blankets, or horses.

They beg. They promise patronage. The trader must assist them
in turn, else business at his trading post will be dull. He must at-
tract customers; if he does not, the opposition will, and, as a result,
Indians will not come near him. They do not look upon the trader
as indispensable except for articles that they regard as luxuries and
that they come to the posts to get more frequently than for provisions
and clothing. Oftentimes a trader feels compelled to lend an Indian
a gun during the hunting season, though he knows that he is virtually
making a present—entailing a loss. If he presses the redskin for
payment, the latter transfers his patronage to the opposition. Ah,
it is the opposition that keeps the Indian on his feet. But for com-
petition, he is bound to one trader, enchained, so to speak, to one
man’s prices. Yet there is proof here, also, that too liberal credit
makes no friends.

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 217

For some time past I have been thinking that my diary will be suf.
ficiently interesting to publish some day in connection with my draw-
ings. At first I wrote down ideas, accounts of my own experiences,
and some historical facts for myself alone, more as an aid to my recol-
lection than for any other reason. As my notes at the present time,
however, contribute much that will give closer acquaintance with the
fur trade, the life of the “Mountaineers” and Indians as it is no
longer found anywhere, the publication of my journal can do no
harm.

If I include matters that other authors have already mentioned then
my observations serve as affirmation; if I take another view or if
what I relate does not agree with what has been published already,
then my account can serve as rectification, for I report from my own
contemplation of things as impartially as I can or with statements
from authorized sources concerning the matter under discussion.
But this idea of publishing my journal with sketches and drawings
is not to be prejudicial to the gallery I have planned, but rather
to serve as descriptive matter relating thereto. <A gallery has its ad-
vantages and disadvantages over an illustrated work. In the first
place, as I work with more facility in oil than in water colors I can
execute paintings of larger size for my gallery, while I shall be able
to represent my ideas, feelings, and intimate knowledge in my pub-
lished journal. To be enabled to paint so many pictures in peace
and quiet, however, requires more considerable means than I can ac-
quire. It will be extremely difficult to find a purchaser, during my
lifetime, for the entire collection. Living artists are permitted to
live in want, to starve, to die in misery; after they are dead, their
paintings bring, often, preposterous prices. Why is this so? Because
the wealthy people who buy works of art have no taste themselves nor
independent judgment in such matters, but make the purchase from
vanity or vainglory rather than for art’s sake.

That is the rich man’s way of making himself known, but when
he pays a price beyond all reason for the works of an artist long since
dead he benefits neither the artist nor his heirs, but speculators. He
hopes to win thereby a reputation as dilettante or even, perhaps, as
connoisseur. If such men were really connoisseurs, true patrons of
art (whether in sculpture or painting), they might easily find living
artists who would be capable of painting just as fine pictures for
a hundredth part of those unreasonable prices.

A gallery of paintings or a book of prints, that is the question.
If the latter, then I must have a publisher, pay down money just
the same as for the gallery. Still it is an easier task to find a pub-
lisher, a speculator, than a wealthy dilettante. The limits to which
I confine myself are so narrow that the more material I accumulate

218 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

for my paintings the more difficult will be the sale of them. But
that disadvantage amounts to little. Time brings good counsel:
gallery, works of art, journal, are all but means to the attainment
of my chief purpose, Adam and Eve.

An Assiniboin shot at Morgan and me as we were going around
the cattle stall (old fort) on our way to the wolf traps. Talking
together, we passed quite near a small encampment. An Indian
heard us, did not understand the language, failed to recognize the
speakers and, accordingly, sent a bullet over our heads. Morgan
called out to him that we were waschitscho.

I attempted to write the war song according to its rendering by
one of these Assiniboin. He sang without words merely for his
own encouragement. The melody has little variation and no signifi-
cance apart from the words. The “e” is like our “la” in the practice
of song. The first syllable of every verse is a high note, shouted
from a full throat; then the tones become softer, lower, until they
are a hardly distinguishable murmur; then suddenly the loud note
of a new verse rings out again. When heard in these solitudes at
the darkness of night, those abrupt loud cries in contrast to the slow
movement of the verse and gradual softening of the tones produce
a most singular effect, like savage exaltation combined with lamen-
tation and words of counsel.

eh! eh! ahe! e e a, ahe a, ahe ee ee ee hee
ahe! a! a! ahe ah, e eh, eh, ia a ee e aha

eh! eh ahe! ae a eh ah ia a ee a a ee €€
ahe! ahe! ah, eh, eh, ahe, a, ia, a, a, ee, aa,

eh! eh! eha, eh, ia, eh, eh, ehe, eh, eh, eha, a
ahe! ahe!e a ae ea a ia ae a eha eh ee.

Ju, ju, hi, haha, like the neighing of a horse, yet often given a
tremolo sound by the motion of the hand before the mouth: this
is the well-known, much dreaded war cry, with modulation varying
according to the nation.

October 30. After he had sent ahead three messengers to announce
his coming, the “Knife”, brother of Ours Fou, arrived this afternoon
with the corpse of his sister (sister-in-law), brought on a travois
drawn by a horse.

He wishes her to be buried beside her daughter—the daughter who
hanged herself because a “buck” boasted that he had taken indecent
liberties with her. Mother and grandchild le beside each other
enveloped in their blankets, then wrapped in a buffalo robe.®? Inas-
much as the mourners brought with them four packs of buffalo
hides—that is, 40 robes—the bourgeois had a meal served them, con-

The bodies were brought here because no wood can be found on the prairie with which
to erect a scaffold, nor have the Indians picks and shovels with which to dig graves
sufficiently deep.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 219

sisting of boiled meat and corn, sweetened coffee, and beugnies, all
of which the aged women and the children ate with great relish.
They could hardly restrain themselves from looking glad in spite of
their grief. With great avidity they cleaned the dishes with their
fingers and licked them with craving tongues. As usual, the distribu-
tion of the food was left to one of their soldiers, because the task is
rather a difficult one to so apportion the same quantity to each that
nobody has cause for complaint. Men were served first, then women ;
children were counted with their mothers. During this feast a coffin
was got ready. The family took charge of the body, laid it in the
rude box, Mr. Denig spread a new blanket, as gift, over it, the top
was nailed down, and six of us carried it to our God’s acre, lowered
it ourselves into the grave already prepared and then covered it over.
“Knife” made us a speech expressing gratitude; whereupon we with-
drew, leaving the relatives of the dead to their howling and lamenta-
tion. On this occasion there was no need to employ aged women to
mourn, for sorrow was sincere and heartfelt, as one could readily
believe. Four members of one family dead within two weeks is cause
enough for grief. When the first outburst was over “Knife” ordered
a meal prepared at his expense for his relatives. This was eaten, how-
ever, at the grave, after the deceased had been served her portion.
Then lamentation began anew, accompanied by the cutting of their
flesh and offering up their blood without feigning or dissimulation.
It was indeed a moving sight.

Indians look upon suicide not as a crime or cause for shame but
as something natural and right. No one who is conscious of joy
in life and hopes for better things in future ever kills himself pur-
posely. As soon as hope is gone the allurement of life is at an end;
doubt, disgust, and weariness set in. The equal balance between
sensibility and reason is disturbed and a disordered mind is the result ;
momentary insanity, morally or spiritually, renders such a person
irresponsible, not accountable; therefore, his deed is no crime or
disgrace. In fact, even the suicide of a criminal for the purpose of
escaping the disgrace of a court trial and public execution bears
witness to shame and remorse.

Though it may be regarded by some, perhaps, as cowardly on
such a man’s part to be unwilling to play the principal role in the
hideous staging of a public execution, I maintain, on the other hand,
that considerable courage is required also to take one’s own life in
cold blood.

As to a person’s right to kill himself, when he is not bound volun-
tarily to others, I have no doubt whatsoever, no matter how directly
I run counter to established doctrine in saying so. The argument
that parents bring forward, especially in their efforts to inculcate

220 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

the enormity of this sin in the minds of their children: that they are
to thank parents or God for existence, nay, are in duty bound to
make sacrifices in their behalf, is unreasoning egotism.** Why are
children born? Can parents say beforehand, we wish our child to
be so and so: Boy, girl, beautiful, well formed, good, or clever?
Is our existence a happy lot? What father and mother can know
this in advance? The moments in life when one delights in one’s
existence are so rare, so dearly bought, and hope of a happier future
fate so uncertain, that I recall more moments when I wished I had
never been born than occasions when, free from sorrow, I rejoiced
in being alive—was conscious of exceeding great happiness.

If, in a so-called civilized nation, one finds no recognition of one’s
endeavors; if, in spite of diligence and industry, one cannot earn one’s
bread—what then? To earn a bare competency becomes daily
more difficult, more prosaic. Deprived of our hopes for a better
state of things in future, of future justice, we sink into materialism.
Without hope of a happier life beyond the grave we are no better
than animals. Where there is no hope there is no yearning; without
yearning, no poetry; without poetry in our souls we are not human.
But one cannot live on hope, nor can poetry survive hunger and
misery.

Standing beside the grave of a pretty 16-year-old girl of good
family, blameless reputation, modest manners, and honorable na-
ture, who, unfortunate through one single act of a dissolute boy, is
robbed of a fair future; who, reflecting upon such a fate may not
ery out, Is there a God? Where is the God who promises to uphold
the righteous? Where is the Protector of the innocent? Where is
the Omniscient and Almighty One without whose knowledge not a
hair of our heads shall be hurt, not a sparrow shall fall? Where is
Het

Ah, here a girl lies dead; elsewhere, great numbers are starving!
Where is He? Where?

And the aged Indian woman, far from her husband and he in
danger, too soon parted from the dearly beloved children, becomes
so sensible of her age and loneliness that she longs to be united
with those she loves—she yearns for peace.

October 31. The unexpected often happens. Mr. Culbertson has
at last arrived this evening from Fort Laramie. We had heard the
glad news in the afternoon from Ours Fou, who had hurried on in
advance to mourn with his family. “Uncle Sam” has appointed Ours
Fou chief of the Assiniboin; fate has robbed him, during his ab-

®3 Rather more for the care of them than for the gift of life.
% Had I only realized at the time what severe trials were in store for me I would
rather have remained a common engagee in the wilderness.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 221

sence, of his wife, his only wife, his son, and two grandchildren.
Anyone who saw this grief-stricken chief would never speak of an
Indian’s lack of feeling. They love, hate, experience sorrow and joy
just as we do. Only in the face of the enemy are they too proud to
show the pain they feel. Ours Fou was grieved to the soul, most
profoundly affected; gazing before him in a kind of stupor, he wept
silently. His hair and his body were besmeared in token of his
sorrow. Morgan felt that he must conceal the chief’s weapons for
fear he, too, might be seized with too great a longing for those he
loved best.

November 2. The news from Fort Laramie fails utterly to justify
expectations. No treaties were negotiated, much less concluded.
Uncle Sam made no display of military power to impress the
Indians.

The United States agent, Colonel Mitchell, is said to have been be-
fuddled most of the time from too much drink, to have made great
promises to the Indians, to have appointed several braves to the rank
of supreme chief without the approval of the respective nations, to
have made gifts, such as stores of meal, blankets, etc. Quatre Ours,
Bonaparte and their associates, they say were expecting a grand mili-
tary display in which soldiers of many nations would take part in all
of their war regalia, rather than an adjournment of the conference,
but nevertheless the instant they were told by the Sioux, representa-
tives from Fort Pierre, about the outbreak of cholera among the He-
rantsa, the Mandan, and the Arikara, they were off bag and baggage
to their homes. Mr. Culbertson says I should be glad I did not go,
for, though I should have seen more than 2,000 warriors of the differ-
ent nations decked out in martial array, I should have witnessed no
dancing, because no dancing was permitted or anything else that
might incite hostile tribes and disturb the harmony of the occasion.
Neither should I have seen a single wild animal nor any hunting.
So I am to console myself for losses in a horse trade and breach
of faith on the part of my expected fellow-traveler with the welcome
thought of wearing myself out in this place. How often I have
tried in vain “to make money.” Invariably, through some untoward
event, I am defeated in my artistic aims.

I should be believed when I say that I am determined to attain
my purpose. Is such a belief on my own part an assumption? Is
it not much more a recompense for suffering, the result of my striv-
ing? Mr. Denig says Mr. Culbertson has been named a colonel by
his friend Mitchell, the United States agent, and we are to address
him from now on by that title. Colonel of what? Here we have
neither Regular Army nor militia. Oh, the passion for titles among
these republican Americans!

a2 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

Our new colonel gave a ball last night. His Indian wife in her
ball gown, fringed and valanced according to European mode,
looked extraordinarily well. She has much presence, grace, and
animation for a full-blooded Indian. One or more tragicomic inter-
mezzos were not wanting—results of liquor drinking. Joe Picotte
had to be put to bed after he came near having a fight with our
Indians.

Spent the entire day stripping off willow bast, drying it, and
mixing it with tobacco. As long as this visit continues I could em-
ploy myself day after day preparing the mixture.

November 3. Late last night Mr. Denig waked me up to keep Mr.
Culbertson company. Now and then we took a little whisky, smoked
a great deal, talked in a sort of desultory way about God, man’s
destiny, etc., until finally the conversation was directed to the princi-
pal subject in view, i. e., where I was to be and what I was to do
in the future.

Mr. Denig wished to know precisely in what way he was to
employ me; whether he might be allowed to order me to paint any
picture he desired. I had expressed my opinion once to Mackenzie
to the effect that I was not employed as painter to execute just any
picture.

“Now, here is our master. Tell me, have I the right to order you
to paint a picture?” demanded Mr. Denig.

“No, sir,” I replied. “Not after that agreement with our Mr.
Picotte. I refused to paint for you only one of my compositions.
You know why. The other pictures I painted because, in the first
place, I take delight in such work and, besides, I wished to show my
goodwill and my willingness to be of service in any way I could, for
before the traders went away to their winter quarters I was alto-
gether superfluous here; therefore I was glad to make myself agree-
able and useful.”

Then Mr. Culbertson remarked that the portraits I had painted
pleased him so much that he would like to possess one of himself
and another of his wife. I was to execute, in addition, a replica
of the dog Natoh’s picture, so that he could take the original to his
post in Blackfeet territory. He said further that Mr. Denig will
have need of me, so I remain here as clerk. In summer, when Mr.
Picotte senior comes up on the steamer, I shall certainly be satis-
factorily remunerated. Such a statement I found brief and to my
hking.

“Now” said Mr. Denig, “I'll have a rod in pickle for you. Look
out !”

So, I am to remain here. I am satisfied. I wonder how long
my remark to Mackenzie had stuck in Mr. Denig’s throat; a small
glass of gin emboldened him to be relieved of it,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 223

Bruyere, who brought Mr. Culbertson’s horse on while the colonel
himself came down the Yellowstone by boat, is now the only clerk
besides Morgan. Packinaud is still in bed. When Morgan is
busy as foreman and Bruyére at his trading post on the upper
Bourbeuse I shall find enough with which to employ my time this
winter. Am now an employee, not a visitor.

November 4. Those Assiniboin who came to visit their chief were
hardly gone when twenty other tents were pitched below the fort.
There is no end to smoking and feasting. Even as I was closing
the gate, one of the duties belonging to my new position, I heard
a noise out on the prairie like creaking wheels of old carts. There
were nine two-wheeled vehicles brought by metifs from the Red
River who come to trade, to get work, or else to seek shelter as inde-
pendent hunters in this region.

Since I have taken charge of the keys of the fort various and
sundry duties devolve upon me: Early in the morning I must open
the gates, in the evening I have to close them; at night, if anyone
without wishes to come in, I must open them again; if strangers are
there I report the fact.

I must keep my eye on the two bastions and their contents; have
charge of the press room where robes and furs are stored, and of
the hides and skins in reserve; have supervision over the meat,
both cured and fresh, and the distribution of the same to families
entitled to it; over the vehicles, saddles, implements received, their
safe keeping and proper distribution; must look after the tools,
see that they are kept in good condition and properly distributed;
must see to repairs; am expected to assist at the saddling and un-
saddling of horses, as well as hitching them up and unhitching.
One accomplishes little traveling about the world unless one becomes
a practical person. An awkward scholar knows not how to use what
he knows for the good of others. If an artist lacks exact knowledge
and practice in such small matters as putting the saddle on a horse
in the proper manner, mounting and sitting a horse correctly, how
can he represent such things truly in his drawings and paintings?

November 5. Began painting Mr. Culbertson to-day, under the
same difficulties due to insufficient colors and wrong sort of brushes:
ceruse, black, vermilion, Prussian blue, yellow ochre, and chrome
yellow are the only colors I have, while my brushes are those used,
in general, for the beard and for flat painting. Art is long and
time is fleeting are old adages the truth of which is daily put to the
test.

This evening there was incessant knocking at the gates. Assini-
boin, encamped outside, think they may be constantly coming in
and going out the whole night through. Fine idea of order! What
excited them so much this evening was the arrival of a runaway

994 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn 115

Indian woman from the camp below, closely followed by her husband
in pursuit. He had exhausted his horse and was himself stiff and
sore from the long ride to fetch her back. First came her knock
at the gate toward the river and before I could let her in and con-
duct her to the Indian women inside the fort the man was already
pounding at the opposite gate. If he makes her eat humble pie
we shall have had only a little drama; if he fails we may have a
tragedy, unless he becomes a laughingstock and the play ends in
comedy. As yet he has only been made sport of by a perfectly re-
spectable crowd. The hero, meanwhile, does nothing more than
look exasperated; the heroine is in fear of a beating.

It is queer that Indian women never carry their children in their
arms but invariably on their backs. They swing their papooses over
their shoulders, standing the while with backs bent, until they have
drawn the blanket over the child and closely about their bodies.

November 6. If Mr. Culbertson’s Indian wife had not received
news of her younger brother’s having been shot by Assiniboin I
should have had a chance to study one of the most beautiful Indian
women.

In token of grief she had her long, lustrous black hair cut short.
She would be an excellent model for a Venus, ideal woman of a
primitive race; a perfect “little wife.” Ancient Greeks, like the
Indians, required of the female sex only household virtues, no social
qualities; the gentle sex, therefore, exercised no refining influence
upon th strong.

One thing I miss among Indians in this region is the pleasant or
merry singing that is so frequently heard among the girls of the
Iowa tribe. Here they sing only while dancing; there, they resort
to song to enliven their hearts when sad or to give vent to their
feelings when merry. How delightfully Witthae sang “Hagge,
hagge, torike hagreniki”, etc., in a duet with her sister! Ah, tempi
passati.

November 7. Smith brought me a large beaver he caught in a trap.
Another study. What an ugly head!

November 11. Last week I was so busy I could find no time for
writing; and even if I should have had a leisure moment or two,
there was no open fire to make things cheery, for no wood has been
procured; all hands were otherwise engaged.

Last Friday I finished the portrait, which was immediately hung
on the wall in the reception room, where it was soon damaged by
Indian women and children who insisted upon touching it to con-
vince themselves that the figure painted there was really alive. As
I had so many other things to do I was forced to hurry with the
painting.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 225

On the same day the Crow chiefs came again to greet Mr. Cul-
bertson and per se to enjoy his hospitality and receive gifts.

Saturday Bruyere rode over to his post on the upper Bourbeuse,
where Carafel, in the meantime, is attending to his duties. Pretty
soon, when the exchange trade becomes brisk, both will stay there.
Now I am the only clerk; I shall have to procure all things needed
and look after everything; the two men in charge think more about
their drinks than of giving me directions. Shift for yourself! Do
the best you can; only leave me now in peace! would be the trend of
my mind today if I had time to think my own thoughts. Both
complain vehemently of the hypocrisy that characterizes both politi-
cal and religious-life in the United States; they find nothing but
strife, deceit, and lies therein. They laud the way of life among
Indians. Both are Americans and, if sober, neither would utter
such plain truths.

Now that I’ve got so mixed up with the fur trade, I wish I had
some acquaintance who knows at least one of the dialects spoken in
this part of the country. In this Babylonian confusion of languages
among the representatives of various nations it is hard to master
one single dialect: Assiniboin, Crow, Herantsa, Cree, Mandan, and
even Blackfeet all mingled together, and then again mixed up with
English, French, Spanish, and German.

I think Indian women native here are very badly dressed. In-
stead of giving out the meat to all at the same time, one has to wait
on each one separately (certain clerks have introduced that order
of things) in order to substitute something else to favorites. One
woman demands “tandoj,” another “waschua,” a third the same
thing in another speech; then a laborer will come and ask for an
oxyoke, another will call it an “outil,” a third an “apischimo”; then
Mr. Culbertson appears to make an inquiry; Mr. Denig follows, bid-
ding me do something different; after him come Indians asking me
about this and that, and expressing their desire to barter for some-
thing or other. Every moment the language in which the ques-
tions are asked varies, yet I am supposed to understand and reply,
“It might be done, but it won’t do.”

Sunday Mr. Culbertson and his family departed. It is cold
weather for a journey to Fort Benton.

Tuesday, yesterday, and today I have been constantly engaged in
putting Assiniboin and Crows across the river—a cold, damp busi-
ness. Had to assist the women in unloading their goods and chat-
tels, as well as in loading again, so that I could make the trip across
with more dispatch and regularity. Had frequently much ado with
horses and dogs that either refused to go aboard or, when on the
boat, would not remain quiet—even sprang, sometimes, into the

226 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

river. Mr. Denig now begins to take a hand. It is well he finds
clerks necessary to back him; otherwise, unless he were more decent
to the latter, he would soon have trouble with both engagees and
clerks combined.

Mr. Denig would be supremely happy to be put in command of
at least 100,000 men and empowered to make them do some sort of
work. To command is his greatest pleasure; desire to command his
most characteristic trait. Stood he really so high that he could look
down upon us, he need not so perk up his head.

I have observed several picturesque snow scenes: Indians pitching
their tents or breaking camp; the Indian village in the forest on the
opposite river shore seen through mist, smoke, or falling snow;
groups of Indians engaged in loading or unloading their commodi-
ties; and the river covered with floating ice. While busy at work
one is less sensible of the cold than when at leisure in a room where
there is no fire. Besides, cold, wet weather, weariness, nothing of
that sort matters when one is satisfied in mind,

November 13. First, I rowed our hunters across to the opposite
shore; then I took several Cree families over. Cree women are more
businesslike in transferring their goods and chattels to the boats
than Assiniboin are. Around the various campfires men and young
lads sit and smoke or else stand beside their horses; boys and girls
frolic among their many dogs; children play with puppies as though
they were dolls, or carry them like babies on their backs beneath their
blankets; the women employ themselves with their chattels, their
tent poles, and their beasts of burden.

Thirty tents swarming with Indians are there, thrown into relief
against a background of forest, the bare trees of which, blackened
by fire or lightning stroke, are now laden with snow. There is a
confused din of voices calling, beating of drums, strokes of an ax,
crash of a falling tree, whinnying of horses, shooting of guns, and
howling of dogs. The barren prairie extending behind the fort on
this side of the river has its attractions also; a light fall of snow
gleaming through the dried prairie grass creates a bright surface
that appears now dark, now golden, now rose hued. This gleaming
surface is further brightened by a group of gaily painted tents with
their attendant peles from which are suspended trophies, such as
scalps, buffalo beards, strips of red cloth, ete. The place is enlivened
by human figures; men walking about with majestic mien, some ac-
tively engaged, some idle; youths at their games, girls carrying water,
women trudging in with wood, cleaning and scraping hides; horses
grazing or tethered near their owners’ tents, saddled for use; a multi-
tude of dogs eager to steal something, chasing one another about,

5)
scampering away with some old bone, a piece of leather, or an ill-

Kurz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 227

smelling rag. These dusky forms thrown into relief against the
glistening snow seem almost phantomlike; especially when often in-
distinctly seen through smoke or mist. There is no strife; no oaths
are ever heard.

The incessant drumbeat, the howling of dogs, neighing of horses,
now and then a loud call, are the only sounds that come across the
sandbank from that village. There are neither harsh tones of dis-
pute nor conflict, neither glad notes of song nor yodel. Only the
tattoo of the drum resounds, from beside a sickbed the music of the
mountebank, not denoting joy. An Indian’s ideal of enjoyment in
the home is a feast; tobacco smoking is his diversion; dancing, his
excess of indulgence in pleasure.

November 14. While we were bringing Mr. Culbertson’s boat to
land with great difficulty a beautiful wild goose, with straight, white
neck and green head, swam down the river.** Not an Indian would
lend a hand to assist us with the boat. That would have been far
too great a condescension on their part.

November 15. Early this morning we thought the dog Natoh
would die. Several days ago he had a fight over his T’schakan,
during which he must have injured his back. Morgan’s dogs, Bull
and Badger, have escaped from their master. Badger showed
deadly hate toward Natoh, and fought him at every opportunity.

Though he was younger and weighed less, his fury of attack, his
remarkable perseverance and agility more than offset those disad-
vantages. Besides, he has teeth as sharp as those of a wolf, while
Natoh’s are worn dull from age. Each dog is his master’s dearest
pet and were once set upon each other so that they might determine
which master had the most powerful dog in all the land. Natoh
is now afflicted with a great swelling on his left side, has eaten.
nothing for 3 days, to the serious concern of Mr. Denig’s wives. I
advised Mr. Denig to open the tumor, so that it could be drained of
blood and pus. He did not venture; the dog is much too surly.
Today the swelling burst of itself; whereupon Mr. Denig congratu-
lated me, saying that if the brute had died the Indians would have
ascribed its death to the picture I painted.

“Everything will turn out all right if nothing happens to me
during your stay,” he added. “Otherwise you’d better look out.”

Well, I assume the risk; for the present I know nothing better to
do. It will soon be insupportable for a painter to stay among these
savages. My danger at present is the result of Catlin’s coming here,
and Bodmer’s, though they themselves are not in any way to blame.
I could do nothing to prevent even greater difficulties that, on my

% This species of goose is not mentioned in Audubon’s “Birds of America.”

228 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

account, might befall future artists traveling in this region. The
illness of this dog may well serve me as warning to leave nothing
neglected that I would like to sketch.

Was told by an Assiniboin, who out of curiosity accompanied his
chief to the Platte River (Fort Laramie; the situation is on Horse-
shoe Creek), how they were given domestic animals to supply them
with food. They refused outright to accept the cattle, so Mr. Cul-
bertson had to take over the beasts and give the Indians corn and
biscuits in exchange. In the first place, our redskins would not eat
pork at all, neither fresh nor cured. This Assiniboin, who for want
of a better name we call “Platte man”, entertained his friends with
various anecdotes; for example, how three United States soldiers
were forced to drag along after them, as a punishment, three heavy
balls attached to their feet. This he turned rather cleverly to ridi-
cule. He told, furthermore, how some white men were attempting to
sell whisky when soldiers broke open the casks and to the great
regret of the narrator let the liquor flow out on the ground, where it
did nobody any good.

I read also the treaty which the United States proposes to make
with the Indian tribes. Again nothing but hypocritical phrases to
impose the belief upon a distant public that Uncle Sam takes the
Indians’ fate much to heart. In reality, it is high time that he did
so. In the first instance, to appoint over the nations supreme chiefs
who are neither chosen nor recognized by the tribes themselves is of
no advantage to anybody; only engenders jealousy among rivals.

In the second place, to promise, on condition that Indians no
longer make war on one another or do injury to any member of the
white population, to distribute $50,000 annually during a period of
50 years according to the poll among the nations west of the Mis-
souri—what does that mean? How many such treaties would be
kept with Indians? What an easy matter to provoke an affront and
then to refuse the annual payment. During a period of 50 years!
What guaranty have Americans that their Confederation of States
will continue for so long a time? Is it not in the power of any new
administration to annul this treaty made by their predecessors?
Jackson made himself particularly conspicuous in that respect; he
resorted to bayonets in his effort to set aside a treaty made by his
predecessor, President Monroe.

As I was rowing a chief of the Cree, “Le Plumet Caille”, across the
river he said to me, looking northward and describing with his hand
a semicircle from the point of sunrise to that of sunset: “Tout ca a
moi.” He repeated these words several times in the presence of
Assiniboin who might well understand his signs. Now, the actual
domain of the Assiniboin lies between the Yellowstone and Missouri;
therefore, the latter tribe were most likely driven across the river by

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 229

Crows and Blackfeet upon land belonging to the Cree. Now, 1 under-
stand, also, why Cree set the prairie on fire—to drive Assiniboin
from Cree hunting grounds and force them back into their own
former territory.

November 16. That I might have something to enjoy on Sunday
I took different sorts of saddles that are used in this region and
made drawings of them.

November 17. Weather is clear and cold. Have finally decided to
order from Madam Bombarde a winter suit made of buckskin. Up
to the present time I have worn my summer clothes, with a buckskin
shirt. Owing to the exercise I take in the performance of my
numerous duties and to my inner satisfaction to be able to paint
daily so many interesting studies, I am little sensible to cold. New-
comers, they say, endure the low temperature during their first winter
better than natives. But the weather is now too severe for my com-
fort. I feel the cold more today on account of being unable to get
wood for a fire; the oxen make use of Sunday for a distant hike, and
by the time they are found, brought back, yoked, driven to the
forest and back again with a load of wood night will already have
fallen; besides, there will be a great many applicants for that one
load. Mr. Denig feels quite comfortable in his large armchair,
smoking his short-stem pipe beside his iron stove that glows with a
rousing fire. The instant I come in to attend to something or to
ask a question, and incidentally to hold my hands over the delectable
base burner which attracted me today like a magnet, the bourgeois
invariably finds a new task that takes me into the open air, on the
theory, I presume, that the best warmth is obtained by constant bodily
exercise.

I am continually required to walk down to the river to find out
whether that arrogant Sioux °° has yet reached the opposite shore and
to row him over at once.

The Sioux imagines himself of tremendous importance, because
he was a representative at the great assembly on Horseshoe Creek
and has received a number of gifts. He is so imbued with self-
assumption that he boasts of the number of Assiniboin he has slain
in battle. He even brags about having killed the mother of Ours

*6 As I pronounce the word “Sioux’’ according to the French and heretofore have heard
no other pronunciation of the word from any American, I was greatly astonished when
Mr. Denig made sport of me about it and declared that one said “Suh”, not “Siuh.” Yet
he could bring neither any proof of the word’s origin from the Dakota language nor any
reason for the pronunciation he claimed. According to Charlevoix, it is said to have been
the final syllable of the word “Nadowessioux.” Mr. Denig tried also to make me appear
ridiculous for saying that certain animals could be tamed by means of salt. Jim Hawthorn,
according to his habit to curry favor, was at once ready with his invented anecdote
about a hunter he knew who never went on the chase without a bag of salt with which
he could entice any herd of buffaloes he might come upon—in fact, some thousands followed
him for several days. I replied simply that it was his intention to make me appear
absurd; I would give my information somewhere else.

230 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 116

Fou. Unpardonably tactless, for he intends to live here, among his
former foes.°%* To give himself airs he presented two good horses for
his wife. He had her with him hardly 4 days when she was taken
away by her kinspeople in order to provoke him. Now he wishes
to get his horses back; whether he will succeed Mr. Denig is very
curious to find out.

Natoh was also a cause of much running around on my part. To-
day he went early to the woods, most probably to breathe his last
in solitude and to spare the women the painful sight of his final
grapple with death. For he is dead.

“Knife” and his soldiers, who trade at our winter posts, brought
back the horses that were stolen by Assiniboin.

For the sake of producing actual evidence of their friendly atti-
tude and of their desire to redeem their honor these braves bought
the horses at their full value from the thieves, who are customers
of the opposition. For their trouble they received from the com-
pany gifts at the value of two buffalo robes per horse, which is con-
siderably more than the purchase price of the animals, but better,
after all, than losing them altogether.

Sitting beside the open fire so long and earnestly desired, Mr.
Denig told me how his chief had the jury in St. Louis decide two
questions of much consequence to the engagees. For instance,
whether the company was bound to pay his entire wage to an em-
ployee who had fallen ill and make no deduction for time lost. It
was decided that the engagee was to be paid only for the time he
worked; he was to be furnished board and lodging, to be sure, but
no medicine. This seems hard on a laborer who, by reason of the
service he renders, falls ill or becomes incapacitated for work, Still,
the company pays an employee his entire wage if they find no cause
to complain of him in any other respect. According to this ruling,
Packinaud will have all the medicine he needs during his illness
charged against him on his account. The second question is whether
the company is obliged to pay to an employee his full wage when
the latter, contrary to an agreement entered upon voluntarily not to
trade as private individuals in buffalo robes and furs, bartered from
Indians hides and skins in excess of the demand.

The jury rendered this decision: Pay the man in full for his work,
but have him indemnify the company for loss incurred or else give
up the hides and pelts. Hint to me: I am not permitted to barter
for any robes or fine furs with the Indians myself, but through my
chief as agent, in order that he may not lose his profit on the trade;

*7 Besides, he was born an Assiniboin but was taken prisoner while a boy by the Sioux
and brought up as one of them. As peace is now established between these related tribes
he wishes to rejoin his kindred with whom he originally belonged.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 231

furthermore, I am not allowed to possess more raw hides or pelts
than one sample of each species or any more buffalo robes than I am
in need of for my own bed.

November 18. ‘Toward evening Jim Hawthorn arrived direct from
St. Louis, accompanied by another man on horseback. I hope we
shall have some news.

I was already reposing under my buffalo robe when Mr. Denig
came into my room with Jim Hawthorn and invited me to a lit-
tle “spread.” There is news of the insurgents’ march upon Cuba,
just as much in violation of the people’s rights as was the Swiss
radicals’ advance upon Lucerne in 745, and like our radicals, the
American annexation party, are now raising their voices against the
victors on account of the lawful seizure of filibusters, despite the
fact that the latter were not shot, as, in accordance with martial law,
might have been expected.

Endless dissension because of the Negroes. Negro slavery is an
inveterate menace to the Union, fateful heritage from the English,
who by lawful decree introduced this system of labor in the colonies,*®
Such a bondage is wrong—a great injustice. How is it to be reme-
died? By emancipation? But the free States are just as intolerant
of Negro blood as the slave States. No, the Negroes must be put out
of the United States.

Capital equal to the value of from three to four million slaves, that
is, a Sum amounting to at least a thousand million dollars must be
sacrificed to that end! Or shall they be set free by ransom? Who,
then, would offer such an enormous sum? Who would undertake
the task of transporting an entire nation across the seas? To keep
slaves is wrong, but to declare them free men and yet refuse to treat
them as such, to find them unendurable in personal contact, even to
sit beside in the Church of God is damned hypocrisy! ® The aboli-

In 1645 the first Negro slaves were brought to the English colonies by a Puritan from
Boston. There arose such a universal cry of protest, however, that the Negroes were
sent back to Africa at the expense of the State of Massachusetts (Bancroft, vol. I, p. 132).
The first slaves were brought into Virginia in 1620 by a Dutch ship of war. The slave
trade was soon such a thriving business and so advantageous to English shipping that
the abominablé pursuit was favored by the British Government up to the time of the
Revolutionary War. Nay, they threatened more than once to dismiss colonial officials
who agreed to any law in the colonies against trade in Negroes. In 1776 the American
Congress forbade, finally, the bringing in of any more slaves. That much, at least, is to
be said in praise of the colonial assembly. The emancipation of the Negro race, in defiance
of the English, would never have been accomplished by philanthropists, if they had not
hoped to ruin, by that means, the colonies of other nations.

% That is basing peoples’ claim to good birth on the color of their skin. If the aboli-
tionists wish to free the Negro because he is capable of being as good a person and
Christian as a white man, they must also grant him the same rights. But American
philanthropy goes not so far. Neither do they consider that Indians are their equals.
What abolitionists most desire is to clear the Negroes out of the United States. That
slaveholders themselves do not put such low estimate on the ability of Negroes is shown
by the strict laws against Negro education. The one and only prospect of doing away
with slavery in the United States is an insurrection of the black race. A compromise

81634—37 16

232 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 115

tionists in America are nothing more than hypocrites. What is the
benefit of such a book as Uncle Tom’s Cabin? What purpose is
served by such writings? None other than to arouse hatred between
the different sections of the country and make the slaves’ condition
worse than before! What plan is advised by the abolitionists?
They have none! To what place do George and Eliza flee, ulti-
mately, for refuge? To some port of safety in free, democratic
America? Oh, no! They go to Canada, under the dominion of
royal England. In liberty-loving America no Negro is allowed free-
dom, no free Negro is permitted to live as a free citizen. Among
these “most enlightened” Americans in these United States, the
home of the most liberty-loving, the most cultivated people, no Negro
or mulatto, though he be only one-fourth Negro, enjoys the rights
and privileges of a citizen: He is neither enfranchised nor permitted
to testify before the court!

November 20. Yesterday we had another ball. I thought at first
that Mr. Denig had received most satisfactory news from the States;
on the contrary, his prospects of visiting New York next year are
smashed to bits. But when the younger Madam Denig appeared
among the dancers wearing a rose-colored ball gown in the latest
fashion, direct from St. Louis, a light dawned upon me.

I was indebted to that new and beautiful frock for the unhoped-for
pleasure of beating the tattoo on drum or tambourine. As I cannot
dance I have to comply with others’ wishes by helping with the music.
It’s a pity that this ball gown had not been on hand when the recep-
tion was given in honor of Mr. Culbertson. How jealously the two
beautiful dancers would have looked askance at each other—just like
two beauties of the white race at court.

However, rose color goes not well with a copper-colored skin. To
be sure, the complexion of a pure-blooded Indian woman is no darker
than that of an Italian or Spanish brunette, but rose color is not
becoming to them either. The color of a dress must enhance the gen-
eral effect and brilliance of a costume, not be a detraction.

Before breakfast I learned several words in the Dakota language
from Ours Fou, who seeks the solitude of my room, where, beside the
open fire, he can brood over the loss of his loved ones and meditate

between white Americans will never succeed. Negroes are just as good as we; except that
they are either too much accustomed to bondage or else do not feel so much the need of
being free as we and the Indians do, they could have won their liberation long ago.
Especially at this time, when the free States would rather help than hinder them. A
Negro revolution is a frightful means to gain freedom, but it is their only means. Much
blood would flow, but the sin of slaveholding can only be atoned for in blood. However
bloody, only by revolution can they set themselves free. There have been frightful up-
heavals from causes less serious. Moreover, those who do not themselves long for free-
dom and gain their liberation by battle will not procure it by foreign aid. If Negroes
wish to be free and deserve liberty, let them manifest their desire. They would be
justified in rising here where such abominations are perpetrated daily by Christians.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ Bao

upon his future eminence. The good old chief seems to take a heart-
felt pleasure in my writing down “Minnehasga tokia? Tschauda
waschteh, Osmie schitsche”, and pronouncing the words after him.

Rowed across the river today for the last time. The stream is so
thickly blocked with floating ice it will soon be entirely frozen over.
I brought back the Sioux; he found neither his four days’ bride nor
the two horses with which he purchased her.

To console him Ours Fou found him another “little wife.” When
we started over a dog belonging to an Assiniboin remained behind.
For a long time the woman called, “Kadosch! Kadosch!” The lean
wolfhound, discouraged by the bitter cold stream, ran like one pos-
sessed up and down at the river’s edge, then with arched back and
dragging tail began to howl distressingly. The old woman never
ceased calling “Kadosch.” Who could long withstand that familiar
summons? The dog sprang into the freezing water, worked his way
bravely through the floating blocks of ice, now disappeared among
them, now was forced to bound upon such a float to prevent his being
crushed, now swept along with the yet ductile but half-frozen ice
layer that almost entirely surrounded him, until a larger and more
solid mass, impelled by its own momentum, moved with rapid, whirl-
ing motion through that yielding stratum and burst it asunder, bring-
ing the poor brute again into fairway. Finally, after the gallant
fellow had again been borne far downstream by the ice-blocked cur-
rent, for some moments entirely lost to view, he scrambled to shore
and was received by the woman with open arms. Had he gone down
the old woman would no doubt have suffered the loss of her last and
only friend.

Another dog did not fare so well. He was very hungry. He saw
a child sucking a juicy piece of meat, and fairly itched to get pos-
session of it. He looked slyly about him to find out whether he were
being observed, turned his head this way and that, pricked up his
ears. Just then the child pulled the meat out of its mouth. The
hound could resist no longer; he snapped hastily for it, but in
securing it, bit the small papoose.

He started off with his prize. Hearing the child’s scream, its
father, whom we call the Platte man, seized his bow and, quick as
a flash, laid the thief low with an arrow through his heart.

The Arikara are said actually to have lost 400 souls during the
cholera epidemic and to have been terribly enraged against the
whites in consequence; however, they have as yet resorted to no
violence.

November 21. When the old Spaniard came in to breakfast this
morning, he announced to Mr. Denig that, while out guarding his
cattle, he saw in the near distance a pair of white-tailed deer.

234 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Cadotte was instantly dispatched. In an hour’s time the buck was
brought in. Cadotte brought the head all intact with horns for me
to paint. My collection of studies increases slowly but surely.
Never despair! Today I received my winter suit of calfskin, made
with hood, “metif fashion”, and sewed throughout with sinew.

November 22. Joe Picotte made another attempt through mis-
representation and lies to alienate Assiniboin from the big company
by declaring that his competitor would annihilate them with con-
tagious diseases. How stupid! What profit could be derived from
the destruction of one’s own customers? Joe is kept in a state of
continual provocation because the United States Government takes
no notice of his company and yet upholds always the greater corpo-
ration. Naturally, this is a cause of friction between competitors!
The big company, possessing a large amount of capital, have al-
ready put many of their competitors out of business altogether and
have absorbed others. These “dobies” have held their own for an
unusually long time, but still make inconsiderable profit; only Camp-
bell, in charge of their drinking house in St. Louis, is making a
success.

Before I knew as much about the fur trade as I now know I
was astonished to find prices so unreasonably high, but as I became
more and more closely acquainted with the business and attendant
expenses I knew that it could not be otherwise. When commodities
are obliged to be transported 9,000 miles, nay, some of them halfway
round the world, the outlay therefor must necessarily be considerable.

Wares are shipped here from Leipsig (little bells and mirrors),
from Cologne (clay pipes), beads from Italy, merinos, calicos from
France, woolen blankets, guns from England, sugar and coffee from
New Orleans, clothing and knives from New York, powder and shot,
meal, corn, etc., from St. Louis. The company owns factories both at
home and abroad for the manufacture of their staple goods; their
trade in furs extends throughout the entire Indian domain from the
upper Mississippi to Mexico. Their trading posts are spread along
the St. Peters River, the Missouri, Yellowstone, Platte, Arkansas,
Gila, Bear River, throughout Oregon, California, Utah, and New
Mexico. Trade is distributed through the districts according to the
location of navigable streams or some other means of communica-
tion: upper Mississippi outfit, lower Mississippi outfit, Platte outfit,
etc. Members of the company, P. Chouteau, Jr., Sarpy, Berthold,
O’Fallon, et al., live in St. Louis, where they have their office, an
immense storehouse. From there goods are shipped to the various
posts, skins and furs are received in exchange, and are sold through-
out the world, especially to Russia. In every district there is an
agent, employed at a fixed salary ($2,000) and paid in addition cer-
tain profits on sales. He has charge of several posts. He orders sup-

Kvuzz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 235

plies from the company but is not usually obliged to pay for them
in pelts. He is at liberty to dispose of the hides and skins that he
takes in exchange in the market where he finds the best prices.

For goods delivered at the factory price plus the cost of transporta-
tion agents are required to pay a yearly interest on capital advanced,
together with the cost of insurance. He knows, therefore, what the
approximate cost of his commodities will be and has only to reckon
in addition sums necessary to pay salaries and keep of his employees,
and largesse to Indians, in order to maintain his trading post with
success. Mr. Culbertson is agent for the upper Missouri outfit and
has supervision of three posts: Fort Union, Fort Benton, and Fort
Alexander. Mr. W. Picotte is agent for the lower Missouri outfit,
which includes supervision of Fort Pierre, Fort Lookout, Fort Ver-
milion, Fort Clarke, and Fort Berthold. Mr. Papin is agent on the
Platte, having charge of Fort Hall and Fort Laramie. A bourgeois
or head clerk is stationed at each post. He receives a fixed salary of
$1,000 and a stated percentage on sales. He buys goods, just as agents
do, at the cost price. The bourgeois keeps his own accounts. He
orders what he needs from his agent and delivers to him all that is
received in exchange for goods sold; whether he makes large profits
or suffers losses depends upon how well he knows how to calculate
to advantage and to regulate his own expenses.

Agents and bourgeois form, so to speak, a company of their own
in so far as they all agree to buy goods from the stockholders at a
stipulated price in which is included interest and transportation
charges.

If skins and furs bring high prices the agents make a surplus
which they divide among themselves and the bourgeois according
to the peltry contributed by each. The stockholders assume respon-
sibility for all damages to commodities in transit; agents are re-
quired only to answer for goods received at the destination to which
they are consigned. All shipments are secured from loss by insur-
ance, the premium on which is quite high for goods sent up the
Missouri, because there are such a great number of snags.

The less a bourgeois has to pay for the upkeep of his fort, in
salaries for employees, and for skins and furs, the greater will be
his profit and that of his agents, who are also bourgeois of a fort.
Clerks and engagees are paid on an average the wage they receive
in the United States, but they are required to buy everything from
the trading post where they are employed and at the price demanded
there. Fortunately, they have neither the necessities nor the occa-
sions for spending money that one has in the States; otherwise they
would save nothing. The traders, clerks, interpreters, hunters, work-
men, and their helpers employed at the forts and who are content to
buy on a credit from the company seldom lay by anything for a

236 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

rainy day. They marry. Indeed, for the purpose of chaining to
the fort, so to speak, those who are capable, those who are indis-
pensable, the bourgeois endeavor to bind them down for the next
year by advancing sums to them on credit.

For supplies intended for their own use the bourgeois pay the
same price that they would be required to pay to the stockholders
for the same article, but they demand much more from their em-
ployees and the Indians. For a medium buffalo robe they charge
an employee $4, for one extra good (prime) $8, for a robe enriched
with ornamentation $15; even a higher price than charged in the
United States. For the usual robe Indians receive in exchange,
for instance, 2 gallons of shelled corn, from 3 to 4 pounds of sugar,
or 2 pounds of coffee. The total expense of preparing a buffalo robe
for sale, reckoned as one sum, would not exceed $1 gross. In St.
Louis these robes are sold at wholesale for at least $2; therefore,
the agents and bourgeois can easily realize 100 percent profit if they
know the trade. It is not true in every case, however, that a bour-
geois is an expert trader; those managers are chosen among clerks
who have been trained in this part of the country, and many of them
who become efficient clerks under good and careful management are
not in every respect competent to conduct a business to the best
advantage.

A craftsman or workman receives $250 a year; a workman’s assist-
ant is never paid more than $120; a hunter receives $400, together
with the hides and horns of the animals he kills; an interpreter with-
out other employment, which is seldom, gets $500. Clerks and trad-
ers who have mastered the court language, 1. e., the speech of those
Indians for whose special advantage the trading posts are established,
may demand from $800 to $1,000 without interest. All employees are
furnished board and lodging free of charge; that means, engagees
are provided with nothing but meat, a place to sleep, and one raw
buffalo hide. Hunters and workmen eat at the second table, i. e.,
meat, biscuit, and black coffee with sugar. Clerks are served with
the bourgeois at the first table, which is, on an average, a well-fur-
nished table for this part of the country. We have meat, well selected,
bread, frequently soup and pie on Sundays. Everyone must furnish
his bedclothes; however, one may borrow two buffalo robes from the
storehouse.

If an employee has a mind to save he can under certain conditions
put aside almost his entire income. In that case he must have on
- hand a supply of clothing, must be content with the fare at the fort,
indulge in no dainties or feasting, and never allow himself to come
within 10 feet of the Indian women.

As these employees are not stimulated to greater exertions by in-
creases in pay or percentages, it is hardly to be expected that they

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 237

will work harder or make sacrifices for a company that is accumulat-
ing great wealth and, at the same time, charging them such extor-
tionate prices. Independently of the equal salaries they receive, head
clerks have advantages over traders that inspire them to greater zeal
and more willing sacrifices. Clerks and traders, both at the forts
and at their winter quarters, are continually beset by begging custom-
ers of the company they serve. They are in no sense obligated to
give away their small earnings merely for the purpose of procuring
a greater number of buffalo robes for their agents, but the bourgeois
not only like for them to be generous with the customers but, on the
cther hand, either directly or indirectly require it of them. Mr.
Denig came near getting a sound beating a few years ago because of
some such unreasonable demand that he made of one of his clerks.
He fied to his bedroom! One must consider that in this part of the
world there are no courts, that one must first catch the criminal,
whether guilty or merely accused; that, in an entire year, there are
but one or two opportunities to despatch the prisoner and witnesses
the great distance from here to St. Louis; that even then the finding
of the court is uncertain—nobody knows what the verdict will be.

One can easily understand why people in these wilds rarely resort
to process of law. Among the promiscuous white inhabitants of this
region there are many rough and vicious characters, in dealing
with whom one recognizes the need of promoting peace and harmony
just as in an Indian camp. [Every man is armed; every man pro-
tects his own house and his property; with knife or shotgun he
requites every insult. One who loves his life guards against giving
offense. It is not their idea of honor to challenge the offender and
give him still another chance to commit an outrage by killing an
innocent person. Fighting duels is no means of obtaining divine
judgment. One hears among white people hereabouts, therefore,
fewer violent disputes, and witnesses fisticuff fights less frequently
than in civilized States, for the reason that, knowing the deadly
consequences, people guard against giving cause for strife.

“Knife” brought ill news from our winter trading post on the
upper Bourbeuse; 10 Assiniboin died at their settlement in that
region of a strange disease that they caught from the Cree on Red
River. Blood, they say, flows from the nose, ears, and eyes. As
chance would have it, the disease appeared simultaneously with the
arrival of horse thieves, and impressed them anew with thoughts of
“bad medicine.”

“Knife”, authorized as one of our soldiers, flogged a “buck” in
Bruyere’s house, because the young boor insisted on trying to pick
a quarrel with Pellot.t At a loss to know what to do with himself,

1 By the English word “buck” is meant a young rowdy whose chief business is the con-
quest of the fair sex, inasmuch as he is yet too young for exploits in war.

238 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 115

he kept on opening and shutting the door to Bruyere’s house, as they
frequently do at the fort with the dining room door. The ill-man-
nered fellow was diverted by the singular lock, the noise he was
making, and still more by the sheer malicious satisfaction of admit-
ing a draught of cold air into a warm room. Pellot bade him leave
the door alone. The “buck” laughed in his face. Finally Pellot
gave him a piece of his mind, whereupon the “buck” said if Pellot
would come outside he would thrash him. As it happened, “Knife”
was also there, and as soldier bound to keep the peace. He sprang
up, quickly seized a stick of wood from the fire, lay hold of the
“buck” and ordered him to come in and strike the Schajeh. 'Tomor-
row, you say. Aha, you will in the morning? And with that
“Knife” dealt him such a blow behind the ears that the fellow lay
on the floor as dead. “Knife” was just on the point of dealing
several blows more and in his anger would have killed the chur,
had he not been restrained by his friends. ‘That “buck” may well
be on his guard hereafter against “Knife”, the brother of Ours Fou.

Though one is beset by perils in the Indians’ domain, the dangers
here do not compare with those that threaten one’s life in the United
States. Germans especially (including natives of Switzerland) have
much to bear from native white citizens there. In St. Joseph and
Savannah I got into several desperate fights, because some of the
rough natives, either drunken or insolent, tried to play a joke on
the Dutchman, with the intention of affronting or else of making a
fool of me. On one occasion my refusal to drink a scoundrel’s health
was his excuse to set upon me; another one coveted my woman; a
third derided me, every time resulting in a bloody quarrel, because
I am not a man to keep quiet and pocket an insult. As everybody
knows, household rights are properly respected in the United States—
that is one of the finest provisions in the organization of the States.

Have restored Mr. Culbertson’s portrait as well as I could.

As the metifs get meat here now, I have learned the word for fresh
meat in the Chippewa (Sauteurs) speech. The word is “wiass.” ?
Difficulties in learning a language increase daily. * * *

November 23. A ring, a ring! A wedding ring! Quien sabe? **
Marguerite La Bombarde came to see me this afternoon, put a brass
ring on my finger, saying “Tu la porteras pour moi.” *> Does she
want to marry me?

2The mention of this word gives me occasion to remark upon the faults committed in
the English language in the representing of foreign sounds. Tor instance, John Carver,
in his journey through the interior of North America (1766-68), writes this word viass
‘“weas” instead of “weeas’’?; now the translator in the German (Hamburg) edition gives
the word “ues”! Furthermore, the Sioux word ‘“waschta” (good) is given “woshta’”’ but
in German, ‘“‘uoschta”; ‘tibi’’ (tent, house) is given “tiebie’’; “mine” (water) is given
“mene” and in German, “mene”, etc. For an English “e’’ (i), the translator always uses a
German “‘e.”’

2aT, e., “Who knows?”

27, e., “Thou wilt wear it for me.”

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 239

November 24. I painted a large eagle for Bearshead; he has to
pay twenty robes for the flag. Today I came upon Natoh’s picture
in a garret, that serves as storage room for drugs, paints, and
crackers! Is it due to delicate sensibilities or superstition that they
keep his image in hiding? Since Natoh’s death, Mr. Denig has in-
dulged a new fancy: Three splendid wolfhounds, in new harness with
bells, hitched to a cariole! This one-seated sled I am now to give a
coat of paint; the last supply of oil at the fort is to be lavished on it.

Indian dogs differ very slightly from wolves, howl like them, do not
bark, and not infrequently mate with them. “Dogs of another type
are brought here from the Rocky Mountains—small, lop-eared ca-
nines, covered from head to toes and tail with long shaggy hair. In
spite of the widely varying species of dogs, a differentiation as
marked, nay, even more marked than between the fox and the wolf,
some naturalists are inclined to trace all the different breeds, just
as they derive the human races, from one original pair.

Why should not every separate country have its own breed of
dogs? Why should any one maintain that dogs native to New
Holland, to Kamchatka, Thibet, England, Turkey, etc.—that all
these various types are derived from one and the same original pair?
Indians make use of their dogs as beasts of burden and as guards,
never for hunting, because their baying and howling would betray
the huntsman to lurking foes. Moreover, these wolfhounds are too
wild to be good rangers and therefore useful on the chase; they
hunt out every living thing that they might be able to catch with
their teeth. To say that dogs, by reason of their toes, are suited for
drawing vehicles or carrying loads is a queer statement. It is not by
decree of Nature that the horse, oxen, or reindeer are destined for
draught animals, but by an arrangement of mankind those animals
best suited to such purposes are selected; accordingly, Indians find
dogs more convenient as beasts of burden than buffaloes. Dogs are
by far the best animals to draw sleds over the snow. There are cer-
tain philanthropists, however, who in their zeal for dogs’ welfare
give them a higher place in their esteem than they ascribe to man,
of whom they exact any and every sort of work.

November 25. Last night Cadotte’s Assiniboin wife came to my
door and called “ti.”

I opened the door; she had disappeared. He has no longer credit;
so, no coffee, no wife! Point d’argent, point de Suisse!?° And for
this wife of his Cadotte was rash enough to put his life at stake! It
happened last year, when Cadotte had to go along as usual with the
Mackinaw boat that carried goods for the Blackfeet tribe and, in
his capacity of huntsman, to provide fresh meat for the crew who

2¢ I. e., “No song, no supper” (a French idiom) ; also ‘“‘No tip, no porter.”

240 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

towed the boat laboriously up the river by means of a rope. Harvey
was then bourgeois at Fort William. He was attracted to the beauti-
ful Assiniboin woman, and during Cadotte’s absence enticed her to
his fort. As Cadotte was returning he heard his wife carousing in
the Tiger’s lair. Equipped as for the hunt, he set out at once in
trace of her, entered Harvey’s room and in the latter’s presence, in-
side the latter’s own fort, he took his woman by the arm and bade
her come with him. Harvey was for shooting him down, but was
prevented by the people about him. How the Tiger must have
glared at the Lion going off with his prize! Harvey is not a whit
less daring than Cadotte, who defies the devil, but he was restrained
by the feeling that he was in the wrong! Unfaithful women are
now become a commonplace—nobody thinks much about such oc-
currences. Only old ugly women or those burdened with children
remain with their husbands; they are exposed to no temptation, no
seduction.

However, much depends upon a girl’s parents, whether they come
of good family and enjoin upon their daughters the duty of being
loyal to their husbands. Indian women who marry engagees are
not valued at the purchase price of a horse; therefore they do not
regard themselves bound in duty to remain. Such Indian women
are, as a rule, of the riffraff. Children born of such unions inherit,
as a matter of course, bad rather than good qualities of their parents;
on the other hand, halfbreed children of clerks and traders are a
credit to the white race.

Rottentail and Grayhead are once more on a visit here. The
first-mentioned chief regrets much that he did not find Mr. Cul-
bertson’s courier, so that he might have gone to the Platte. Then
he would have been chief of the Absaroka and not Big Robert;
the latter will gain considerable influence through the distribution
of gifts provided by the United States; many of Rottentail’s ad-
herents will move over to Big Robert’s settlement. Besides, Rotten-
tail has not more than 80 tents.

November 26. Received another wipe-down from Mr. Denig today
because I gave out lard in too large quantites. Perhaps so; nobody
has taken the trouble to give me instructions. As Bruyere was
leaving he delivered to me a bunch of 10 keys without showing me
the lock to which a single one of them belonged or giving me informa-
tion concerning any of the duties I was to assume.

The two men in charge were always more or less befuddled; were
unwilling for my nose to come within smelling distance of their gin,
for my eyes to behold their tragicomic play; hence, were satisfied
to let me find out everything for myself. I knew neither what
the rations were nor the persons entitled to receive them; conse-
quently, some of the Indian women took advantage of me. Now

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 241

I have found out about these matters myself. I had first to learn
the difference between tallow fat or suet and market fat or lard,
between tender meat and hard meat, packed in the bladders in
which Indians bring it to us, and whether the dried strips of flesh
were cut from a cow or an ox. I had to watch over 12 men all
at the same time and keep them at work, to deliver their tools
and implements, the names of which I frequently did not even
know, much less the place where they were kept. Ten thousand
soldiers would not have given me as much trouble as those few
laborers and women. Nor does the great number of different lan-
guages in which I am addressed make my way of life in this place
any the less confusing. Women eat at no stated intervals, but,
if possible, throughout the entire day. Hach comes for meat when
it suits her. And I am to make no change in that respect. But
it is quite a while before one knows all the various terms for fresh
meat, cured meat, lard, corn, water, “open the door”, etc., in seven
different languages.

Tools and implements are scattered everywhere—in the saddle
room, in the meat house, in the storehouse, in outhouses, bastions, on
the floor—axes are even thrust under the beds. Before I had brought
order out of this chaos by my own efforts alone, I was forced many
times to scratch my bewildered head. Of course I make many mis-
takes; for instance, I forgot once to feed the pigeons, to count the
pigs, to drive away a woman because she came twice in the same
day to ask for meat, in order to give some food to visitors, and I
committed yet another error when I gave out lard instead of tallow
fat to another woman, Only at that moment was Mr. Denig in-
clined to vent his spleen upon me; indeed, at other times he has
been kind. He is in a bad humor now, because he has found out
that when the Crows come here to trade, not only Joe Picotte but he
himself has not on hand sufficient sugar, meal, etc. We are already
forced to eat bread made from maize instead of wheat, and to drink
coffee without milk; soon we shall have no sugar, perhaps, have to
put up with meat and water. He brags about how he puts up with
any fare; unfortunately, I was destined to catch him eating butter
and bread with cheese and sausage on the sly. He stood before me
an idle braggart. He supplies all the corn needed for chickens and
pigeons that are laying no eggs and, besides, will most likely be
frozen to death before winter is over, but none to preserve the
strength of horses, cows, and draught oxen in daily service.

My prime fault, which caused dissatisfaction to my chief, was
committed on the evening of the ball, when I neglected to praise
the new ball gown as much as did Jim Hawthorn, whose only duty
is to dance attendance on the bourgeois, to flatter him and submis-
sively cut his tobacco for him. Now Jim came here with the ex-

242 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

pectation of getting a position forthwith. He finds no employment;
I am, no doubt, in his way. Look alive!

Ours Fou, chief of the Assiniboin, sits now beside me on the floor
before the fire. What a melancholy picture! A chieftain “in sack-
cloth and ashes”; greatness in humility! He sits here now, in sor-
row, with the same imposing dignity that characterized him as prince
in power. He is uncovered; on his head, breast, and legs are in-
cisions in his skin to allow blood to flow as atonement for his
deceased wife, his murdered sons, and beloved grandchildren. The
good old man has still other troubles to afflict him: His newly ac-
quired title is not recognized. Neither Absaroka nor Assiniboin
accept him. For the first time in 30 years, since the war with the
Crows and subsequent peace with that tribe, Ours Fou has pitched
his camp in the Assiniboin hunting grounds.

Absaroka interfere with him when on the chase; his tribesmen find
no food. He talks with Rottentail, who is discontented, on his part,
because he was not chosen chief of the Absaroka. The latter is wary,
a good businessman, and makes light of the white man’s chief in the
territory of the Platte. “White Americans lie”, he says; “where are
their gifts?) Where are their warriors?” Absaroka sneer at a chief
who is poor. Ours Fou is in sorrow; he dispensed all his gifts long
ago; he is poor.

He cudgels his brain to find some way out of his dilemma; he jug-
gles with this plan and that to try to regain his prestige. Among his
own adherents he finds rivals who are envious of him. One of them,
“Te Premiere qui Vole,” Mr. Denig’s brother-in-law, is an adventur-
ous brave. He was in the Platte territory and, but for his impetuous
temper, might have been chief, in accordance with Indian custom, for
he counted more “coups”, assembled more tents, brought together
more followers, more braves, under his command than any other.

Severe snowstorm, biting cold, and howling north wind. How
queer that yesterday this north wind was so mild the snow began to
melt. Can it be that the current of air had swept over a warm sec-
tion of country, bearing forward the warmth of the South? I can
defy this frightfully cold weather when I am put in such a jolly good
mood by this bright fire in my fireplace.

How the moist wood sputters and crackles as it burns! It is a
joy to behold. ,Or has my blonde disposed me to be gay? Ach, Mar-
guerite, you would be beautiful enough to suit me, and sufliciently
industrious too, if you were only not quite so silly.

Made further progress today in “fort-unionization”, Mr. Denig’s
expression. In other words, I had to take 81 buffalo tongues out of
salt and hang them up in my room to dry. Then I was told to cut
more than 170 fresh tongues out of buffalo heads and pack them thick

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 243

in a cask filled with warm salt water. It’s as though I were living
in a pork house, which overhead suggests a heaven filled with joys
I dare not taste. Mr. Denig refuses to sell these choice morsels even
at a dollar apiece.

November 27. The bourgeois’ sled (cariole) I have painted red
and black. Another eagle I am ordered to paint tomorrow; these
flags with painted eagles are much sought after as significant gifts.
So, by means of such presents, that cost him practically nothing, Mr.
Denig is said to have attracted great numbers of customers.

November 28. Absaroka and Assiniboin are encamped across the
river only a few miles from here and, now that the stream is frozen
over, they are continually visiting at this fort.

They transact no business but do 4 deal of eating and tobacco smok-
ing. I have become acquainted with another Crow chief; his name
is Four Rivers. He is a very powerful man, both in regards to
physique and in relationships. Le Fourbillon, an Assiniboin, is said
to count more “coups” than all the known warriors of any nation in
this part of the world. He has slain 24 enemies with his own hand.
Le Gras, Le Garonille, the knapper (one who has been scalped though
not killed) are only parasites, beggars.

November 29. Engagees are giving a dance at their own expense
in the dining room, which is near me. Meanwhile, I peel twigs of the
upland willow and weave fancies over an occasional pipe of this
Indian blend. Glad I am not obliged to join the dance; but the
cotillion affords more graceful figures, I admit, than the silly waltzes.

November 30. Farewell November! If December brings me as
many interesting prospects I shall be well satisfied. How soft, how
harmoniously blended are the colors on the wide prairie, under a
light covering of snow. Yellows and browns, black and rose, among
the grasses and weeds with their gray seed pods, blended with the
snow, give every variety of hue and shade. On that radiant plain a
buffalo with his velvety winter coat of hair must stand in splendid
relief.

December 1. This evening an Assiniboin from the lower camp
came to me because in the crowded rooms he could find no place to
sit or anything to eat. He was tired and so hungry, he said, that his
stomach was continually crying out “rygrug.” As I have no au-
thority to feed and lodge Indians on my own responsibility, nor had
received instructions to that effect, I could not show too much com-
passion for his empty stomach. I indicated to him that Minnehasga
must give him food. In the meantime he sat down by the fire and I
filled my pipe for him. We smoked together. How it occurred to
him, a stranger, to get at my weak side, I do not understand. He
began to specify certain words in the Assiniboin tongue and to give
their meanings by signs, explaining that I was to write them down.

244 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

I was so delighted with this unexpected civility on the part of a
“savage” that my strict sense of duty began more and more to relent
as my list of words increased. I hurried out to the storehouse to
fetch a piece of sun-dried meat, though the cold was terrible and keys
and locks stuck so fast to my fingers that I thought I should pull the
skin off in getting them loose. “Osmiedo”, he said, when, puffing
and blowing, I reentered the room. Yes, it was, really freezing cold.
I permitted him to sleep there. His hunger appeased, he rolled him-
self up in his buffalo robe and fell asleep on the hard floor.

When the Indians are at the fort in such numbers an especial need
is felt for a room of good size with a large fireplace, where the red-
skins can be quartered en masse. As things are now, they have to be
crowded into at least five rooms already occupied, an arrangement
that is uncomfortable for both the occupants and the visitors. At this
especial time of year all of them like to squat about the fire, and they
interfere with the cooking. In midsummer they would find the heat
and steam all the more unbearable. Mr. Denig is speaking of having
an Indian lodge built; by so doing he would not only satisfy a need
but also win for himself a great many friends. We have already de-
voted our combined efforts to drawing a plan for the construction.

December 2. The same old story of an Indian woman I am to
marry—if it were only not so difficult to keep her after I get her!
They remain just long enough to procure all that a white man is
able to give them; the first time he says, “It is impossible”, then it is
adieu, je t’ai ou, with them. They know that women are in great
demand.

To return to my story, as I was coming back to my room, after
having closed the gates, I found an old woman and a young Indian
girl sitting on my doorsill. They have been living for several weeks
in the camp without. I thought they were waiting only to ask me to
open the gate again, but I was mistaken; they intended to come into
the room with me.

The young girl was quite well-grown, had fine, noble features, soft,
languishing eyes, and, for an Indian woman, a very high forehead.
Her face was washed clean, a delicate crimson came and went in her
cheeks; but, oh, Lord! The rest of her was in such contrast! Her
swarthy neck, shoulders, and bust, her doeskin dress, sleek and shin-
ing with grease and dirt, her shabby buffalo robe. The old woman
talked a great deal, but the young one, though friendly in manner,
only sighed gently, then more deeply, then aloud. I understood her
quite well, but the family did not appeal to me at all. When they
saw that I could not talk to them, or would not, the girl went to fetch
the mulatto, Auguste, that he might act as interpreter. I refused to
let that fellow have anything to do with my affairs, and sent him for
Morgan. To be sure, Morgan does not know any great deal himself

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 245

about the Assiniboin language, but I wished to have him come just
for the fun of the thing. For a long while they discussed the mat-
ter, but to no purpose: With the women, marriage was the word and
gifts in return for the bride; on the other hand, a poverty-stricken
Indian family with an endless family connection to be supported by
the groom—fireside joys too dearly bought!

Morgan left. So did the women. I had hardly closed the door
behind the latter and was starting over to see Morgan when I heard
a knock at the door. There stood the two women again with the
blind head of their family. They came into the room. The blind
man said by means of signs: “I give you my daughter to live here
with you.” Fortunately, Packinaud had got wind of the matter, and
came limping over to take a part in the trade. He must have the
girl, he asserted, without paying a horse. When that plan failed
utterly he became angry and sent them all off.

From now on I am allowed to sell buffalo robes among other com-
modities under my charge. The price has been advanced from $4
to $5 apiece, just at this time when they are most in demand. Mr.
Denig claims that he makes so little profit on them here he would
do better to send them to St. Louis. Yes—probably.

December 3. From my night lodger I learned additional words in
the Dakota speech. When he had taught me numerals up to 10
I laid down another chip, hoping he would tell me the word for 11;
but in spite of all signs I was able to make, he refused further to
understand ; seemed to think I would lead him on to 30, 40, etc. His
sense of color was not at all pronounced: Blue and green were
one and the same to him; so were brown and black. He assumed
that, having done me such an immense service, he was privileged
to beg unceasingly for everything that came within his view. I gave
him a present of some tobacco and let him go.

As a means of passing the time during these long winter eve-
nings I have begun teaching Packinaud English. If he learns
enough to be able to write and calculate in that language he can
occupy a higher post. In return, he teaches me words in the Her-
antsa and Dakota dialects.

December 6. I got from Smith a real live red fox to paint. Smith
brought the fellow in just as he was caught, by his nose, with the
trap—a very rare occurrence. Animals are usually caught by their
feet. According to my observation of Master Reynard in this
region, he has not half the cunning of a wolf, for five of his sort are
entrapped to one of the latter. As I sat wholly absorbed in paint-
ing the frightened animal, that in quiet behavior as well as in form
and color afforded me an excellent model, in came Mr. Denig, who
bought the fox from Smith at once, had a cage prepared in which
Reynard is to live, directed me to take care of him and feed him,
in return for which service I am to study him and paint pictures

246 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

of him to my heart’s content. In the meantime I had taken ad-
vantage of the opportunity to make a sketch of him, together with
the trap. Now that he is behind the bars, happy to have his nose
released, I shall make another study.

Instruction in English and Herantsa.

December 9. My imagination is likely to be overburdened in pre-
serving all the new pictures I am storing there; it is now a matter of
conservation rather than productivity. My demon of composition
will not break loose until I shall have left this place for some years
and long for these scenes again.

December 10. Belhumeur’s arrival here last night from the winter
post below us caused a break in our quiet life. (I am already quite
used to seeing great numbers of Indians.) Mackenzie sent him up
here to notify us that Joe Picotte, regardless of his pledged word,
had sent his traders to the more distant settlements of the Assini-
boin and Cree to anticipate us in the purchase of robes on hand. At
that news everything here took fire. Morgan had to mount John
and race to the horse guard with an order to bring in all the horses
tonight. A decision was made at once to counteract by all possible
means the treachery, deceit, and dishonesty of Joe Picotte, what-
ever the cost. The fact is, Joe had only sent his traders out into the
lower fur-producing districts. However, he is no longer to be
trusted; consequently, Mr. Denig is going to contest his right to
every inch of ground and to every hide. He sent away three ex-
peditions with goods today: Cadotte to Knife River; Morgan to the
lower Bourbeuse to relieve Mackenzie so that Mackenzie may be able
to avert imminent peril to himself, and, furthermore, he sent a courier
to Bruyere, instructing him to dispatch clerks in every direction and
to strain every nerve in his efforts to bring about Joe’s defeat.

Only Packinaud the lame and Istaboba remain with Mr. Denig to
protect the fort. The bourgeois is at this time, of course, in a state
of great irritation.

After all our feasting, largesse, and advances to Ours Fou, he has
brought us, from his camp of 60 tents, only 57 robes. It looks as
though Indians so near the range of buffalo herds would never be in
need of anything; they have any number of raw hides in their posses-
sion, but are disinclined to tan them, because their stomachs are
full.

December 14. After a few quiet days we have another great stir in
fort and camp. The sugar is out. No more sugar for coffee, no more
sugar given away, no sugar either for sale or for buffalo hides.
Frightful state of things! What is life worth without sugar? It
will be almost half a year before a fresh cargo can be had. The
sweet-tooth engagees have well supplied themselves; as soon as they
jearned from Packinaud that sugar and meal might give out they

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 247

went with him into the storehouse and had him put 50 pounds, in
secret, to their account. In that way several barrels have been
emptied without Mr. Denig’s knowledge until yesterday, when
Packinaud, unable to make the entries, because he cannot write, had
to specify the persons whom he had allowed credit.

What dismay in the land of Canaan! Famine was about to set in.
What damage to trade! Ten barrels more of meal and 20 barrels
more of sugar would have been no appreciable increase in the
steamer’s cargo, while for want of a sufficient quantity of these com-
modities several hundred buffalo robes are lost to the company, for
the reason that Indians put themselves to little trouble for other
goods on sale. In winter they prefer their robes to woolen blankets,
and their own sort of clothes made of skin to those made of cloth,
because leather is a better protection against wind and cold than
wool. Only in water it does not serve.

I made use of my opportunity to paint a black-tailed deer (Cervus
macrotis). 'They prefer to inhabit ravines and mountain glens, and
are altogether more rarely seen than the elk and white-tailed deer.
This species is of larger size than the Cervus virginianus, but not so
large as the elk. Because these blacktails are distinguished by their
long ears, they are called “mule deer’’; the other name is due to the
black, crinkly hair that covers their throats and extends along the
under forepart of the body to the paunch, and the longer black hair
of their tails. Their haunches and the under side of their legs are
white like the Cervus virginianus.$

I had much trouble with my water-color sketch. Though I held
the water over the fire in a tin cup it froze when I applied it to the
ice-cold paper, and soon formed ice crystals on my porcelain pallette.

Bad news has reached us from the other side. Yesterday, two of
our metifs who are out of employment went to the Yellowstone with
dog sled and two pack horses to hunt on their own account, in order
to provision their families with meat and, if possible, to obtain some
hides. They were attacked, so the report goes, by Blackfeet. David
is severely wounded and Antoine is missing. Without delay, I

3 According to Audubon and Bachmann, the head of a buck in our public room at this
fort is of the Columbia blacktail species (Richardsonii), not the same as the mule deer
mentioned above. This head has ears, to be sure, that cover the first branching-off of the
horns and are larger than those of the Cervus macrotis. In Audubon’s drawing the
female Columbia blacktail has a long tail, sparse of hair; that does not correspond to
his description. His drawing of the female Cervus macrotis corresponds just a little
to his description. The fictitious hunter-naturalist A (Audubon was really in California,
and not in Oregon) in Capt. Mayne Reid’s “Hunter’s Feast’’ designates one sort of these
deer, Cervus macrotis and the other, Cervus leucurus (blacktails and longtails). Accord-
ing to him, the difference lies merely in the short, stout bodies and short legs of the
blacktails. These last-named he gives, rightly I think, a southern habitat, i. e., California
to Texas; the longtails, Cervus leucurus, on the contrary, he ascribes to Oregon and the
upper Missouri.

81634—37——_17

248 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 115

harnessed three dogs to the cariole, Mr. Denig got in and had Joe
conduct him to the Crow settlement where David is said to be.

Mr. Denig brought our wounded man home. His nose was pierced
through in the direction of his left eye and both his feet are frozen.
What a wretched outlook to be lame and half blind in this wild
region. As yet no trace has been found of Antoine la Pierre. As
soon as we had put David to bed, made an examination of his wounds
and dressed them, he gave an account of his adventure. They were
fortunate enough to come upon a drove of 200 elks and shot 4 of the
cows; whereupon their rifles, owing to the sudden alternation from
cold to hot, became dripping wet and of no further use. They had
hardly lighted their evening campfire, put their meat on spits and
stretched the hides as a protection against the rough wind, when
some Indians plunged out of a nearby thicket and fired upon them.

Antoine fled from the place at once, or at least disappeared in the
darkness. David, momentarily staggered by being shot in the face,
could not see how to defend himself. He was only conscious of
clamorous voices, as of many Indians running toward him to take
his scalp, of the first arrival’s crying out to Blackfeet: “A white
man,” and then sounds of a quick flight. In all probability the
Indians took the pack horses with them, and perhaps Antoine also.
David, severely wounded as he was, attempted to reach the Assini-
boin camp. On the journey his feet froze; his moccasins must have
been wet. David’s wife and children will have a hard time this
winter: David is out of employment, and though he owned nothing
of much use, has now lost all his belongings together with the rifle
and saddle Mr. Denig had lent him. Nor do David and his wife stand
well with the Bombarde family; on the whole metifs are not in-
clined, it is said, to render mutual assistance to one another.

Mr. Denig was invited by Joe Picotte to dinner at Fort William.
His family and I were included in the invitation. Family did not
go, so I had to accompany the bourgeois. He drove over with
his dogs and sled, conducted by Joe, while I galioped along on
Cendre as outrider to the equipage. Oh, how splendid, how jolly to
ride a fiery racer over the frozen snow! Sparkling sunshine but
cold air! Joe expressed a desire to return to virtue and avert punish-
ment.

As I was indulging my whim to ride slowly to the gates on our
return home, I was suddenly aroused by seeing the sled with Mr.
Denig seated therein almost under Cendre’s paunch; the dogs had
foolishly ignored their conductor and run between Cendre’s legs.
If I had not kept the horse well in hand we should have been
thrown topsy-turvy into a confused heap.

December 15. Antoine has at last appeared with his skin whole.
His story is as follows: After they had kindled a fire and stuck the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 249

meat on spits to roast they took off their wet moccasins to dry them
and to warm their feet. Antoine put on another pair right away
and told David to do likewise; but the latter, suspecting no danger,
replied “A tantot.” Antoine placed his gun, which was quite wet,
not only from having been fired in such cold air but also from having
brushed against snow-covered boughs and shrubs as they traveled
along, beside the fire to dry and began to cut up the elk cows they
had killed and hang up the meat. As he was thus employed he
heard a crunching of footsteps on snow and a rustling of boughs;
he called his companion’s attention to this. David thought the noise
was made by their pack horses; the dogs were not stirring at all.
Now they had stretched a lodge skin, made of several cowhides sewed
together, one above the other in a row, to form a tent. These tent
skins being much the worse for wear from age and long use in the
packing of goods had become almost transparent. So, as the men sat
beside the fire or were busy at work, their shadows could be seen by
the enemy, but not clearly enough to indicate the race to which they
belonged.

Suddenly there were shots and then a voice, shouting in Blackfeet
dialect: “Advance, my men, and take their scalps!” Knowing well
that, sitting in the firelight, they were at the mercy of an enemy con-
cealed by darkness, they ran instinctively into the night, each trying
to save his own skin. They were thus separated from each other.
David does not know himself how long he was running about through
the snow in his bare feet, for he was almost insensible from pain and
weary wanderings in the dark when he arrived at the Assiniboin camp.
Antoine fled to the Crow settlement, which was not so great a dis-
tance as the Assiniboin camp. Yesterday morning Antoine went
with a band of Crows to their abandoned camping place. Along the
banks of the Yellowstone they discovered 15 different footprints.
Antoine met some Assiniboin to whom he related his adventure and
inquired after his comrade. He let the Crows follow the tracks on
farther, while he returned with the Assiniboin to the abandoned
campfire. He found other members of the Crow Tribe in possession
of his pack horses; the meat had been devoured and the elk skins had
disappeared. The sled, the dogs, everything had found great favor
with someone. The Crow Indians maintained that it was all legiti-
mate booty because metifs have no right to hunt in that part of the
domain. They consented to give back only the pack horse belonging
to our company, and did that purely on repeated admonition of the
Assiniboin, the real owners of the land.

The Blackfeet took no booty, merely shot one of the dogs that hap-
pened to be with the horses. The other two dogs were lying by the
fire, and the only thing that can be said for any of them is that
they were certainly very poor guards.

250 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

December 16. At breakfast Mr. Denig told me I was to hold myself
in readiness to go soon with La Bombarde to the camp of his brother-
in-law, Le Premier qui Vole, to trade for buffalo robes, although,
so far as that is concerned, he is certain of the robes anyway. How
delighted I should be to spend several weeks in an Indian’s camp
just as one of the “savages”! What a chance to study camp scenes!
However, La Bombarde has not yet come back from Blackfeet terri-
tory, whither he was sent to bring back a pair of horses. Tonight
Ours Fou, his widowed daughter-in-law, and her two pretty daugh-
ters are sleeping in my room. In the Absaroka language, “Bearshead”
is written “Machetetsi Antu”; “Rottentail”’, “Tsite Yore”; “Sap-
sucker”, “Ubschita Thash.” In Herantsa, “Quatre Ours” is written
“Machbitse Topa”; “Queue Rouge”, “Sita Ische”; “Langue de Boeuf”,
“Kirayi Lesche.”

December 20. This morning I was forced into a fight with Badger.
Morgan sent him here yesterday with other dogs harnessed to a sled,
which was loaded with tongues and driven by Belhumeur, Today he
was to return home. Out of pure sympathy for the beast I gave him a
good breakfast; whereupon, he crept under my bed and refused to
come out until I poked him with a sharp-pointed rod in such a way
that he became furious and sprang at me.

I had to strike him sharply on the nose to make him mind me.
Mr. Denig was outside stamping impatiently, while he complained
of the delay. When he was told the reason for it he said that dogs
used for the purpose of drawing sleds must be fed only in the
evening, after the day’s work is done. Otherwise, as I had just
seen, if they were fed beforehand, they became drowsy and lazy.
I shall let this serve as a warning to me. While Badger was asleep
in my room the whole night, his comrade, Bull, refused to be
brought in but remained, in spite of severe cold, before the door on
guard.

December 25. Christmas. We were very busy the entire day; our
only variation from the usual routine being an extra course at dinner
of cake and stewed dried apples served with cream. Last Monday,
when Rottentail came with his band, they brought 130 buffalo robes.
The Absaroka are famous for their robes; in no other nation are
the dressed skins so soft and pliable. As I have no robes for my
bed except the handsome one given me by Mr. Denig, I was biding
my time to choose the most beautiful I could find in a pack of
excellent ones, as a model of the best manufacture. As bad luck
would have it, I did not find among these great piles a single buffalo
robe that satisfied me. On most of them I found the hair imperfect ;
furthermore, they were cut in two and sewed together in a seam
down the middle.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 251

Some of the Crow chiefs, and several girls as well, wore robes of
extraordinary beauty; the skins were entire, including both the
head and tail; they were not cut at all, the hair was long and silky,
the skin as soft and pliable as a woolen blanket. Such robes cost
as much, at least, as a Mackinaw blanket. Since the Absaroka have
found out that fur traders pay no more for a good buffalo robe
than for one tanned just ordinarily well, they take little pains with
those intended for trade. And they are right. Fur traders pay
more attention to quantity than quality. The bourgeois sell thou-
sands of buffalo robes in packs of ten robes each. Salesmen first
examine the packs and sort the robes, including in every assortment,
both at this trading post and in St. Louis at Choteau Jr. & Co.,
at least 1 robe of the best quality in every pack of 10. Sometimes,
for the sake of the fine, curly hair, small hides of 1-year-old calves
are sold for robes made of cowhides. Raw calf’s skins and robes
made from scabby skins are not offered for sale. An old robe that
has been in use is more sought than a new one, when the hair is in
good condition, because, after it has been worn, it shows always
whether it was properly tanned, whether it is soft, and whether it
can be cleaned.

We purchased from a band of Cree some immense elk horns; they
are sold as ornaments for wall decoration or for the manufacture of
knives, tobacco pipes, etc. I am itching for a pair, but, as the
Canadians say, “je jongle enivre.” I am still contemplating the
purchase.

They are far too difficult to pack and too heavy to carry; besides,
they are dispensable, because sketches can be made from several
different views.

We have with us today old Sapsucker, Bearshead, and their ad-
herents. That they may not be obliged to lie down with common
folk, the two chiefs are quartered in my room. Honor to whom honor
is due! Crows are distinguished from other tribes by individual
features of face and form, cut of their hair, vanity, penchant for
personal adornment, and marked parental affection. The men, who
value wealth above valor, sagacity, or honor, make a great show of
their apparel and decorations. In their hair they hang hollow tubes
of white and violet-colored porcelain (wampum), and about their
necks they wear long ropes of the same ornaments. They decorate
with beads their leather pouches and also those broad bands by means
of which they swing their bows, quivers, and rifles across their shoul-
ders. Among the Crow Indians originated that singular style of
trimming, for women doeskin garments, with rows on rows of elk’s
teeth placed horizontally across front and back. They use for that
purpose the six lower incisors of the elk, which, since they are so

252 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

few, are very expensive; one hundred of them cost as much as a pack
horse, i. e., $20. The women among the Crow Tribe cut their hair
short above the eyes and on the neck. Only the men are allowed to
make themselves conspicuous for long hair, and to that end, just as
do their relatives, the Herantsa, they stick on false hair as a means
of making their own seem longer than it really is.

Indians of no other nation so frequently call themselves by name
as the Crows. With much self-esteem they place their right hand on
breast and say Absaroka! Then extending their arms from the side
they imitate the motion of wings when a bird is in flight. Women
and children are not subjected to the rigid discipline that is custo-
mary among other nations; on the contrary, they are allowed to be
present at the tribal meetings for counsel and even to interrupt the
speakers with remarks of their own. Such a liberty is unheard of
among other tribes. MRottentail’s 12-year-old is always hanging
around where his daddy is and constantly begging for something or
taking part in the old man’s conversations. These practices cause
the Crows to be ridiculed by friend and foe alike.

David is blind in his right eye; his toes, black from having been
frozen, are beginning to drop off. Twice a day I have to rid both
feet of the putrefied flesh and dress the wounds with copaiba balsam
salve. In return, they beg alms of me incessantly: “un petit brin de
sucre; seulement une poigné de café.”** How can I gratify their
wants without stealing? These people seem, really, to believe that if
a man has the keys to a storehouse he may without scruple pocket a
handful here and there—that the company can afford to lose it!

The metifs here are the most haughty beggars I have ever seen, an
instance where the admixture of Indian blood, which is supposed to
improve the white race, has, in reality, made matters worse. They
have the opinion that their business is to serve as scouts, huntsmen,
or interpreters; to drive oxen or to cut wood is beneath their dignity.
David thinks, apparently, that I am here solely for his benefit; that
I am to provide food, fuel, medicine, and other things besides for
him and his family; yet he is not even employed here and his wife
and daughters refuse to sew a stitch by way of payment. Even
Madame la Bombarde and her two daughters, who are employed regu-
larly at the fort to make clothes for pay (credit on account), refused
Mr. Denig the loan of her dogs to send goods to the upper Bourbeuse.
Mr. Denig retaliated by giving her no more work to do; now she has
to use her own supply of meat for food.

December 26. I had a quarrel with Jim Hawthorn about “Bears-
head.” While he was eating breakfast in the kitchen he asserted that
I had neither assigned the chief a place to sleep nor provided him

3a J. e., “A little bit of sugar; just a handful of coffee.’

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 258

with a buffalo robe. That was not true. I had done both. But after
I had gone to bed “Bearshead” went out to talk with acquaintances
in another room, where he remained quite late. When he came back
he may have found that his place and his robe had been appropriated
by someone else. I could not help that. He said not a word to me,
but complained to Jim Hawthorn, who is always glad to pick a
quarrel with the person whose employment here deprives him of a
position at the fort.

The latter reported the matter, much exaggerated, to the boss with
the hope of precipitating a reprimand upon me; and this he succeeded
in doing. However, I was able to exonerate myself. At supper I
inquired of Jim in a joking way whether he did not know some other
complaint he might bring forward against me. That he made the
occasion for seeking me out after the meal to say he was ready to fight
me with any weapon from “rifle down to needle”, if I wished a row
with him. I asked him, only, “Who began with the carping?” I am
not in the least afraid of him; for some time I have been aware of his
malicious ill will.

December 28. My prospects for remaining any considerable time in
a locality as clerk seem daily more uncertain. Joe Picotte is now
convinced that he is unable to compete with the big company. He
has insufficient means; besides, on his secret scouting trip he lost
several horses. He has already recalled the traders he sent out. Joe
comprehends now that Mr. Denig was right when he told him to be
satisfied with what jealousy among soldiers and their advantageous
position with the two companies can bring in. Owing to the com-
petition between companies, for instance, Indians get European goods
at more reasonable prices. Furthermore, a larger number of braves
find employment at a fort as “soldiers” or protectors, a position
greatly desired by Indians and much envied, because it brings with
it not only authority but many fights and other advantages besides.

December 29. Last evening, Antoine La Pierre brought the skin of
a 6-year-old moose buck and the head with horns intact. As I had
a few moments to spare, I made a thorough study of the head in
my room and painted two views of it. Now I shall not find it neces-
sary to buy a pair of elk horns. That much saved. Collecting has
ever been my weak point. As a boy, I was interested in bringing
together seals, armorial bearings, butterflies, fossils, etc.; as artist,
books, pictures, and, at the present time, weapons, apparel, and deco-
rations common to the Indian race. With advancing age I should
become wise and begin to lay by money for my last days. But
when one can spare nothing from his daily earnings, to begin saving
is an art.

The elk is not so gracefully formed as our stag. Brow antlers of
an elk extend to his nose, do not stand upright as those of a stag.

254 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Whenever elks enter a mountain pass, which is very seldom, they
go ata gallop. Their hair is long at the throat and underneath on
their paunches. In color they are a reddish dun which shades to
dark brown on their legs, heads, and along the edges of brighter-
colored spots on the buttocks. In winter the color of an elk inclines
rather more to gray. If the animals are old it becomes quite dark,
verging frequently to black on their extremities.

An elk’s hair is longer and rougher than that of a stag, consequently
elk hides come on the market, for the most part, untanned. Their
hair is much sought by saddle makers.

December 31. The last day of a year that has brought me much
nearer the accomplishment of my life purpose. Six months more
ahead of me for my studies of animals and hardly any paper and
pencils left; there is not one whole lead pencil in the fort and only
ruled writing paper. Moreover, it is hardly possible for me to get
a new supply of drawing materials before the summer.

As soon as Mr. Denig learned that Joe Picotte and Ramsay had
withdrawn from their ill-intentioned enterprise and had really re-
called the traders whom they sent out earlier to skirmish for buffalo
robes, he had me go to Fort William and ask Joe to sign a written
agreement for future dealing. Upon my arrival there I heard bad
news: The Blackfeet have again stolen a large drove of horses from
the Assiniboin—155 head at one throw! Among them were two
belonging to the “Dobies” and three of Carafel’s, while La Main qui
Tremble, one of our soldiers, lost all of his, including several pre-
eminent runners. The Assiniboin brought their remaining horses
together in great haste, neither did they spare those belonging to
the fur traders, and hurried out in pursuit of the daring thieves.
They soon found that the main trail along which the robbers were
traveling separated into three, each leading in a different direction
so as to confuse pursuers.

For subjects in art animals take a much higher place than natural
scenery. Their self-consciousness, intelligence, and sensibility make
them more appropriate, therefore, for idealism in pictures. Not only
in their bodily structure do animals bear a kindred resemblance
to man, but also in their mental faculties and feelings; it is unfor-
tunately true that many an animal is even superior to many a human
being. Moreover, animals have their own speech, not a perfectly
developed speech, it is true, but a means of expressing their thoughts,
their impressions, by means of the voice and the expression of the
eyes, etc. That a dog possesses the imaginative faculty is clearly
shown by his actions when dreaming. Animals lack the capacity for
inner struggle toward an ideal in anticipation of the continued life
of the soul after death and attending consequences. Animals of

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 255

every species present a distinct character of their own, and demon-
strate an especial gift; this is rendered plainly perceptible in their
bodily form and mode of life. Owing to this analogy between
animals and human beings, the former can be represented in art
in an allegorical or even a poetic sense. The animal’s good fortune
to be free, not compelled to bear the weight of custom and tradition,
restraints which we cultivated people cannot cast aside in our ma-
terial progress but the burden of which often oppresses us; the
animal’s freedom from all this presents a state of things that cap-
tivates the human imagination.

Furthermore, beasts have virtues and vices, nay, what is more,
inventive genius which, inasmuch as it often brings judgment into
play, is to be regarded as of much higher order than mere instinct.
These qualities, possessed by animals of certain species, are employed,
however, solely in supplying their material needs and in self-preser-
vation. Animals manifest no tendency toward striving to better
themselves, apart from training given by man, or to develop them-
selves for higher purposes in life. According to Audubon and
Bachmann, Hlaphus canadensis is met with nowadays, in regions east
of the Mississippi, only in small herds that range a narrow strip
in the Allegheny Mountains. This remnant of the large droves that
once roamed this part of the country would no doubt have also
wandered westward if they had not been isolated in their wild, almost
inaccessible mountain retreats west and south of the colonies. Soli-
tary herds of elks are still found also in West Virginia. Formerly
they existed iff great numbers in all those regions where the buffalo
was found.

The Assiniboin, following the way that showed the greatest num-
ber of hoofprints, found that it separated also, just as the other did.
They came at last upon the worst conditioned of their horses, but
saw no Blackfeet. They gave up further pursuit.

Now, Old Year, farewell. At your beginning you exposed me to
severe trials, but all is well as you draw to a close. Once more my
hopes are high, my courage unabated! If the New Year brings me
to the completion of my studies, puts me in a position where I may
have the required leisure to execute paintings to my own satisfaction,
I shall be quite content,

1852

January 1. To begin the New Year aright I brought from the press
room where our furs are kept the most perfect pelt I could find of a
grizzly bear,’” so that I might complete studies I am making of wild

8> In shape the grizzly is not unlike our brown bear; he differs from the latter in that
his claws are so long he cannot climb. When he is fully grown the hair on his back is
gray at the ends; hence his name, a grayish or grizzly bear.

256 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

animals now extant in this territory. It took me the entire day to
reproduce with exactness the great variety of hues and shades as well
as the differences apparent in curly, wiry, smooth, and long hairs.
But it must be taken into consideration that I had to attend to my
usual duties besides; that the water I was using for my water-color
sketch, in spite of my precaution to heat it, often froze on the paper;
that I was constantly disturbed by the halfbreed girl with her kisses
and New Year’s greetings, and frequently summoned by Mr. Denig
to write something down, because his sore thumb is giving him a
great deal of paint (The thumb he is in the habit of thrusting
into his waistcoat, just as I represented him in the portrait I
painted.)

According to French custom, every kiss demands a gift; accord-
ingly, when one asks a girl what she would like at the New Year
she replies always: A note, i. e., a bank note. Less than a dollar a
man could not offer her; she herself thought that too little. Kisses
are dear!

Joe Picotte was here to acknowledge with his signature an agree-
ment that I was required to draw up in writing. The first clause
had to do with his sending out traders to anticipate us in acquiring
the stock of buffalo robes in those districts that supply our winter
trading posts; the second obligated him to pay $1,000 damages; the
third, not to employ deserters in any part of the territory over which
he has control. This last-named clause is of great importance, be-
cause, under conditions therein named, an employee’s running away
is made so difficult that he would need have the utmost courage to
attempt it. Heretofore, people who had played a trick on the oppo-
sition were all the more gladly taken into service; their new bourgeois
knew how to use their hostility toward the opposing company to his
own benefit in the way of intensifying zeal to thwart a competitor.
So long as a man was able to find another employer he was, in fact,
not looked upon as a deserter; he might even take a hostile attitude
toward an earlier master and then, later on, dare go back to him,

Not even while we were drawing up and signing this trade agree-
ment would old dame La Pierre leave us in peace: She kissed, in
turn, every man in the office. I came near having an attack of
nausea !

January 2. Today old Sapsucker, at the head of a stout band of
Absaroka, came marching across the frozen Missouri to our fort. To
do him honor, I was commissioned to fire a salute of three guns; that
is, I fired three times with our 4-pounder that stands on the gallery
above the river gate. As there were neither cartridges nor match cord

4A great protuberance of proud flesh formed below the nail and later, after having
caused intense pain, fell off. For a long while Mr. Denig feared he might lose his arm.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 257

at the fort I had to wrap a load of powder in paper and thrust it into
the barrel, then ram it in with shreds and rags of leather, clear out
the vent with an iron pin, put powder on the pan and touch it off
with a burning brand. And all by myself. It was in loading the gun
after this clumsy fashion that old Gareau (Pierre’s father) lost an
arm. He thought it unnecessary, after having fired, to stop the
vent while reloading.

But what does Mr. Denig care? Sapsucker and his entire family
are again my guests. This name Sapsucker is the usual designation
in the United States for the “downy woodpecker” (Picus pubescens
Audubon).

January 3. This old chief’s medicine is dried buffalo dung! When
I lighted my Indian pipe and offered it to him he rubbed, from a
bullet-shaped substance in his hand, some dry powder over the
smoking tobacco.

Thinking he did this to obtain some sort of aroma, yet sensible of
no resulting fragrance, I asked him what it was. He laid in my
hand a piece of dry buffalo dung, indicating that I must never neg-
lect to put some of it on the tobacco when I desired to smoke with
him. Two of his children wear bits of this miraculous medicine in
their hair, just above the brow, as talisman.

Today Mr. Denig bartered with one of the Absaroka for a charm-
ing pipe bowl of red sandstone and, as he had no use for it, he
offered it to me at cost price for my collection. “If my credit is so
far good,” I replied. “Certainly,” he said. So I bought the beautiful
pipe bowl for $7 and had it charged to my account. For such a
treasure I should have to pay, among the Crows, the price of a pack
horse. The red standstone comes from a cliff near the St. Peters
River in Sioux territory; these pipe bowls are fashioned (drilled
out, shaped, and polished) by the Sioux, but are offered as articles
of trade among all the rest of the natives as well.

Le Petit Mandan came today from the Herantsa village. He says
great numbers of buffaloes are seen in the near neighborhood. Never-
theless, I am indeed glad to have been driven to this place, even
through the influence of Indian superstition. Only I regret not
having been able to make a finished drawing of the village with all
its medicine poles, while the Herantsa were encamped within.

I had no opportunity at all; even after they had left there still
remained several old hags whose tongues were as dangerous as ar-
rows and just as likely to strike one unawares.

January 4. With the hope of being able to complete sketches of
several antlered stags’ heads that we have on hand, I hurried
through my day’s tasks, such as the distributing of meat, feeding
the chickens, pigeons, etc. But, notwithstanding that it was Sunday,

258 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 115

Mr. Denig did not fail to find continually something else for me
to do. He is kept in a sort of feverish unrest by pain in his thumb;
proud flesh is causing the loss of his thumbnail. On account of this
he cannot write, so I have to serve as his secretary. In intervening
intervals he never fails to find fault with something. He is vexed
if I cannot account for every rope, every nail, tool, implement, stock,
ring, saddle, nay, even every mouse in the fort. I am to keep a
sharp lookout in all directions, so as to know what is in stock, what
is wanting, what is out of place; I am to know from actual observa-
tion everything, even to the smallest objects, that is stored in the
attic under the roof, in boxes and chests, in barrels and casks, in
the cellar, in places to which I am not admitted, in outhouses. even
among dungheaps in a stall; for shovels and hose or something else
may be left lying there neglected or forgotten. If I cannot give an
account of a thing forthwith—who has it or where it lies, stands, or
hangs, as the case may be—then he says “It is too infernal bad.”

When I was given the keys there was no inventory from which I
could inform myself; so there was no way for me to know offhand
whether certain things were here or not, the names of many tools and
implements I had not even heard, at least in the patois, half- Yankee,
half-Canadian, half-Indian, that is spoken here. The fault with me
is not that I am lacking in diligence or punctuality, but that I am
undiscerning, or rather than I am not sharp-sighted, lack curiosity
(propensity to stick my nose into everything), and what is more, my
thoughts are always intent on my studies in art. My day’s work
should engross my attention; unfortunately, that is not true; art
always occupies my best thoughts. Wherever I am, wherever I
go, my eyes instinctively seek beauty of form and color, my attention
is attracted by objects that are interesting. To be sure, I might
force myself to live entirely absorbed in the duties of clerk and fore-
man if it had to be done for any great length of time. I have no
intense desire to tarry here several years, but only so long as I need
to stay to finish my studies. In spite of the romantic adventure of
my situation I should become bored in the course of time. Besides,
I cannot execute my paintings here—finish my collection; I should
find that impossible. I notice there are people enough in the land to
do the work of clerks. Hawthorn has been hereabouts for a good
long time and yet has no employment. My departure is his dearest
wish.

There now lies before me a most charming deer’s head that lures
me insistently to the paintbrush.’ How delicate, how tender, how
graceful the lines of this little head of a hind! How perfectly in
harmony with her character—gentle, shy, elusive. No line is per-

5 Under the term deer (Hirsch) one is to understand that virginia deer is meant, not elk.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 259

fectly straight, no line is crooked, no line turns abrupt angles; nothing
indicates boldness, solidity, or power, but all is buoyant force and
energy. This head is truly beautiful, its form in perfect accord with
the character and species of the animal to which it belongs. Were I
to idealize the little hind I should say such perfect loveliness of form
bespeaks a corresponding perfection of soul (high degree of intelli-
gence, purity of heart, depth of feeling); but we can idealize the’
forms of animals only by ascribing to them qualities of mind and
heart which they do not really possess.

January 6. Mr. Denig bartered again with an Absaroka for an
Indian ornament, 1. e., a long necklace of 30 bear’s claws. When an
Indian offers such ornaments for sale one gets them always for much
less than when one asks the redskin to set his price.

As a matter of course they never offer an article like that for sale
unless at the moment they need something else much more; therefore
the purchaser has the advantage. If one proposes to buy from an
Indian some object that he highly values and is not obliged to part
with he demands in return as much as he likes or else something that
he would much rather have. Mr. Denig barters for such trinkets
and trappings as an accommodation to the Indians only when he
sees that he can dispose of the object in question at a profit, or at
least without loss. He offered me the necklace at the cost price
($10). I took it at once.

Ours Fou again with me. To his great annoyance he found a
young Crow already installed in my room, because, according to the
custom of the Crow tribe, this young fellow dare not live in the same
room with his mother-in-law. He dare not talk with her directly or
allow her to see his face until his young wife bears him a child. The
same custom is observed among the Dakotas, but only at the first
marriage.

Ours Fou wished me to send the “buck” away: He sought the soli-
tude of my room for the express purpose of being undisturbed; fur-
thermore, he thought it beneath his dignity to sit beside this young
fop and smoke with him. The latter was most richly appareled:
Coat, leggings, and hood fashioned from a new Mackinaw blanket;
another Mackinaw blanket he trailed negligently after him in such
a manner as to display its wealth of ornamentation.

He went doubly armed, as when he arrived: He swung his rifle
over his shoulder in a sheath, bow and quiver in two broad bandoliers,
the straps of both entirely covered with coral beads in various de-
signs. The sheath was decorated with fringe and scarlet cloth. He
carried with him three pouches, all richly ornamented, absolutely
covered with beads arranged in different patterns. The largest of
these pouches opened at the side; the shot bag, with cover, was

260 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL, 115

attached to his belt in front; a third pouch, closed with long, taper-
ing cover, was fastened to his belt in the back. His knife sheath
was just as elaborately embroidered. It was also trimmed with
fringe and, like his knee bands, with falcon bells (from Leipzig).
The tinkling of those rows of bells behind and before gave him an
especial pleasure. In face and form he was quite attractive looking
and manifestly the darling of many sisters or else of other girls
who hoped to be his future wives.

He was constantly trying to be companionable with me. He asked
me how many horses I owned, with the evident purpose of consider-
ing whether, if he offered me a present of one of his, I would make
it up, later on, by giving him another in return. I did not encourage
him, however, though Mr. Denig had advised me to say, if the young
Absaroka made me a present of a horse, that next year I would give
him a good one in return, when there will be none left. My painter’s
wallet made of oilcloth appealed to him very much as a novelty.

Inasmuch as I had a good practical pouch made here, I gave the
one I formerly used to him; I had experienced, alas, how little
suited to its purpose it was when one traveled on horseback.

His stirrups and saddle were also elaborately ornamented with
beads and tassels. The Crows’ saddles are made without wood and
without pommel; they consist of two leather cushions bound together
by means of a broad, solid leather girth. They are most comfortable
for the rider, and, being soft and pliable, they inflict no discom-
fort or hardship on the horse. Besides, the Crows never fail to use
a piece of buffalo hide with hair, or some other skin as saddle
blanket (apischimo).

January 7. Cadotte brought in a cabri doe, of which I painted a
sketch.

January 9. Yesterday Grayhead and Bearshead arrived, together
with the tribesmen belonging to their respective bands, for pur-
poses of trade. The two chiefs and their families were shown to
my room, which became so crowded in consequence that one could
hardly stir. So I found no chance to celebrate my thirty-fourth
birthday with reflections on this transitory life. Among 130 robes,
more or less, I fail yet to find one of the first quality. On most of
them the hair, here and there, is like black silk velvet, but they are
either tanned in a superficial way or cut in two and sewed in a seam
down the middle, or of good, soft skin, lacking the best hair.

As Crows care little for other commodities just now, but demand
horses almost altogether in exchange, we are longing for the return
of La Bombarde from the Blackfeet territory, whither he went with
Mr. Culbertson to trade for a drove and bring them to this fort.

As in every instance the chief of a band as such is favored in the
presentation of gifts according to the number of robes he brings,

KuRzZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 261

these leaders bestir themselves, naturally, to make their people hurry
with the preparation of skins. In their eagerness to get together
the number of robes required they pay no attention to the quality
of work done. Among 400 that were prepared by Assiniboin and
sent in from Mackenzie’s post, I was unable to find one to my taste,
for though I must admit they were tanned in a painstaking manner
on the whole, yet all were sewed together in the middle. This is
due to the fact that the women, to save themselves trouble, cut out
that part of the hide which, even on a cow’s back, is very thick, and
then sewed the two parts together with thread made from dried
sinews or tendons.* Now and then it happens that they sew together
parts of hides that were taken from different animals, which produces
a singular effect.

When Madame David came to get “le dur” from me so that she
might improve some robes Mr. Denig thought too imperfectly pre-
pared for market, I could not understand for a long while what
“le dur” could mean. I was conducted by her to the meat house,
where she pointed out the liver. This organ, also the brain of a
deer or, in case of emergency, fat of any sort, tallow, etc., are all
used to soften hides. One woman dresses a buffalo hide in 3 or 4
days just as well, makes the skin just as soft and durable, as our
leather dressers do in 6 months. First of all, they stretch the raw
hide on the ground and fasten it down with pegs or wooden pins,
and with some sharp instrument, or a piece of bone perhaps, they
scrape off every particle of flesh, which is eagerly devoured by the
hungry dogs. If the skin is not to be dressed until later they leave
it spread in the air to dry until it becomes quite hard. If, on the
other hand, they intend to prepare the robe at once, they rub the hide
for one entire day with liver, fat, or the brain of a deer to soften the
skin, leave it 2 or 3 days (according to the season or extreme tem-
perature) until the grease soaks in, then they dry it at a slow fire,
constantly beating or rubbing it meanwhile with a stone until it
becomes uniformly soft and pliable. This rubbing is of the greatest
importance in the dressing of skins after Indian fashion.

As soon as the hide has been prepared in the manner described
above and is quite dry they begin the fatiguing process of rubbing it
around a taut rope of horsehair or braided leather to make it smooth;
then it oftentimes receives a final polish with pumice stone. Such
work is most burdensome from start to finish; even the scraping of
the hides has to be done in a stooped position that is very fatiguing.
As the brain of a deer is finer and more rare than liver or tallow, it
is used primarily in the preparation of deerskins (except skins of

6 Canadians call this Indian thread “du nerf.’ There are different qualities of it.
Tendons of the long muscle that extends the length of the backbone are used preferably
for that purpose; the finest thread is made from the dorsal muscles of the Virginia deer
and antelopes.

262 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 115

elks). Hides of deer are placed in the final stage of preparation
over a slow fire covered with green sprays of sumac and smoked;
owing to this process they suffer less injury from water, they be-
come golden brown in color, and retain for quite a while the smell
of smoke, which repels mosquitoes and moths.

Grayhead was given his name on account of his gray hair, which,
however, is a perfect yellow in spots. As he is not grayheaded from
age the singularity of his appearance has acquired for him this nick-
name. He wears always a fur cap with a red feather. He insists
upon much ceremony when he joins in the tobacco smoking. First
of all, he makes the statement that he smokes only after meals.
Then La Queue Rouge, who has returned from his visit, lights the
pipe and with his right hand extends it to Grayhead according to
custom, the mouthpiece forward. Whereupon Grayhead explains
to him that he is supposed to hold the pipe out in front of him,
not offer it directly to a chief. When that position is assumed, Gray-
head seizes the pipe with his right fist in a backhanded manner
(thumb down) as one grasps a cudgel, passes it gently into his left
hand and pulls a whiff. Instead of exhaling the smoke through the
nose in the usual manner, however, he holds the pipe aloft in front of
him, the stem in a vertical position, and blows the smoke upward
through his mouth; again a whiff, and, holding the pipe so that the
stem points straight before him, he puffs out the smoke in the same
direction; then, grasping the stem with his left hand, he takes a fresh
draw, holds the mouthpiece aslant, toward his right side, and blows
the smoke to the right; he then inclines the mouthpiece toward his
left side, blows the smoke to the left, pulls another whiff, touches
the ground with the pipe bowl, emits a cloud of smoke as before,
turns toward the fire and blows a puff in that direction, and then
begins to smoke in customary Indian fashion, exhaling the smoke
through the nose.

When Grayhead saw that I carried the key to the meat house he
begged continually for meat for his daughters, who, in expectation
that as daughters of a chief they would be supplied with food, put
aside for their children the liberal portions of mush served them at,
the feast. I had instruction from Mr. Denig never to let an Indian
have meat without his especial permission, so I referred Grayhead
to my boss.

The latter informed the chief that we did not buy cured meat from
him for the sake of providing him afterwards with other that was
fresh. Notwithstanding, Grayhead continued to beg from Packinaud
and others, who replied by way of excuse that they were not in pos-
session of the key to the meat house. An Indian regards it a dis-
courtesy not to be duly entertained at feasts and spreads when he
comes on a visit to white people. But what concerns us in these

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 263

matters is not merely our duty from the standpoint of hospitality
but the vital question of sustaining life at a fort. If, therefore, we
were required to entertain everyone who comes with hospitality due
a guest we should soon have nothing but visitors—no trade, no com-
pensation ; consequently, we should soon go to ruin or, in other words,
be literally eaten out of business.

January 11. In Zimmermann’s workroom I saw four Assiniboin
women playing a new game. They sat in a row before the fire. They
had four disks, 6 inches long, attached to the ends of wands sharpened
to a point. On two of the wands there were disks having the figure
of a man on the upper surface; on the other two the upper surface
of the disks bore the figure of a hand. The under surfaces of the
disks were not marked at all. One after another the women would
seize the four wands at the upper ends and throw them on the floor
with points turned adroitly downward so as to make them tumble
over with all the decorated surfaces of the disks turned upward.

Whoever succeeded in doing that won double the stakes of all the
others. If all unmarked surfaces turned upward that counted simply
a score; if both marked with the figure of a man or both marked with
a hand were turned that counted half as much. The stakes consisted
of grains of corn; a certain number designating, according to agree-
ment, stipulated objects, such as ornaments, clothing, etc. The win-
ning woman continues to throw until she fails to turn the disks
uniformly, then another player throws them in turn. Women play
this game just as eagerly as men, perhaps more passionately when
they have no other pastime. They play day and night, lose articles
of apparel, and it has happened here that they even put up their
children for stakes,

January 12. Again a significant instance of the Indian’s sense of
obligation in matters of trade. Ever since his arrival in these parts
on the steamboat Robert Campbell an Assiniboin has been living in
his tent at the “Doby” fort. During this entire time he has been
provided with food, his smoking tobacco, and with many gifts at the
expense of the fort. Finally, when he had finished five buffalo robes,
he demanded a high price that Joe Picotte refused to pay. Where-
upon the Assiniboin brought his hides here and exchanged them at
the current market price. Notwithstanding his indebtedness to Joe,
he left him empty-handed.

L’Ours Fou is back again with the members of his encampment.
He did not venture beyond the other settlements of Assiniboin and
Absaroka, hence had slain no buffaloes. This great but do-nothing
chief sees ever hovering before his eyes quantities of cured meat
packed in our storeroom, together with supplies of cornmeal mush.
Since he has been appointed supreme chief of the Assiniboin by the

white man’s doing let the white man attend to the duty of having
816343718

264 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

him properly clothed and fed. He confuses all of us white men in
this region with Americans—with Uncle Sam. Ours Fou appears
to me a stupid rather than a mad bear. First, he came and asked that
all his followers be provided with food; when he saw that plan
would not work he said, “Still, give me food, at least, and let the
others go.” Then La Jambe Blessé and La Poudriére followed; they
only were to be supplied in addition. It was no use; we could not
risk the consequences, so were obliged to have them depart with long
faces and empty stomachs. If we had satisfied their demand we
should never be rid of these beggars; they would rely on us for sup-
plies, no longer hunt at all, and, as a consequence, we should suffer
a twofold loss: Constant reduction of our stores of provisions with-
out any return and no replenishing of our stock of buffalo hides,

On the contrary, as soon as they see that no foodstuffs will be de-
livered to them except as payment they are forced to go in search
of buffalo herds. These Assiniboin grow daily more lazy; they
urge as excuse for their inactivity the unfortunate circumstance of
their owning so few horses fit to run buffaloes. In that case owners
of swift horses have a distinct advantage which they should put to
good use now by hunting in behalf of their less fortunate comrades
in the camp. At an earlier time every man stood on his own feet,
everybody had equal chance upon the encircling of a herd on a buf-
falo hunt. Footmen remained in the rear of horsemen and those rid-
ing ponies took position behind the huntsmen mounted on American
racing horses. One of our customers has related here how on foot,
during an earlier season, he slew 140 buffaloes in one winter, and
sold their tongues and hides at this fort. An entire settlement (40 to
60 tents) takes not so much booty in a whole winter nowadays.

Le Gras brought bad news from the Yellowstone. The river is out
of bounds, has overflowed its banks and inundated Rottentail’s camp.
His largest tent, made of 25 skins put together, all his commodities
but recently purchased, his stock of raw buffalo hides together with
those already tanned, his clothing, decorations, everything was car-
ried off by the high waters. He himself, they say, sits on a hill and
wails. Sapsucker lost 2 of his 37 horses.

A Crow was taken so suddenly unawares by the swiftly rising
water that he no longer had time to slip out through his low tent
door but had to clamber up poles on the inside to the smoke hole
in the roof and shout for help. He was later rescued by a friend
mounted on a large, heavy horse. Wallace, whom Mr. Denig had
despatched with letters to a trading post in Crow territory, lost his
steed in the flood; but at that time he had no business at all anywhere
near the river.

Mr. Palesieux’s plan was a topic of conversation today. He desires
to return to this part of the world for a while to indulge his passion

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 265

for hunting. He said last year, in fact, when he set out with his
trophies on his return journey to Ireland that he wished to come back
again equipped with his own supplies of goods and provisions—not
for the sake of profits in trade, but merely to hunt, and that he would
employ people of the region hereabout to assist and protect him. We
found his plan impossible, even for so wealthy a man as himself, with
an income of several hundred dollars a day. For instance, his idea
was to travel out to this territory either by steamboat or on horse-
back, bringing his full equipment; to have a blockhouse built and
to hunt to his heart’s content with huntsmen hired for the purpose.

He is passionately fond of the sport, shoots well, but has no capacity
for starting the game; he is forced to rely on his assistants to find
the wild beasts and show them to him. He can find no spot on which
to have his hut erected that is not Indian domain; he must gain the
good will of those who own his hunting ground by the payment of
money or he will be looked upon as a scoundrel and robber. In that
event, if he attempts to defend himself he will suffer the loss of his
belongings, and perhaps, nay, most likely, of his life also; if he
obligingly leaves everything undefended he will be driven away. He
can by no means remain long unobserved; sharp-sighted Indians will
discover trace of him by the smoke from his fire. They will immedi-
ately spread abroad the news of a stranger hunting on their land,
turn to their own profit his unauthorized presence there, using that
as a means to obtain benefits by soliciting gifts, supplies of food, etc.
They will regularly besiege his blockhouse; they will make such de-
mands on his resources with their mendacity that even with his great
wealth he cannot stand it for any length of time; for he is not coming
as fur trader but for the love of sport. Woe be unto him if he enters
the field as merchant and draws down upon himself the jealousy of
other combined fur traders, who are organized into a company with
enormous capital at their command, with privileges of trade obtained
by purchase and already acknowledged, and with power to ruin him
as a competitor.

However, Mr. Palesieux is purely a lover of hunting; he collects
trophies merely with his own hand and his Indian women make his
clothes. Coming on his own account as independent gentleman, he
does not profit by the protection of any fur-trading company, unless
he purchases his supplies from one of the companies at their market
price, precisely what he is endeavoring to avoid. A man must have
untold wealth to maintain an independent existence in these far
distant wilds. In the first place, he must pay dearly to the Indians
for the privilege of enjoying his favorite pursuit; secondly, it will
inevitably happen sooner or later that he can not grant some Indian’s
request, cannot escape offending in some way or other; consequently,

266 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 115

no matter how kind and generous he may desire to be, he will make an
enemy. Those who bear him a grudge will seek opportunity to do
him injury, to endanger his life. The greater his amount of supplies,
the more he will be beset by begging Indians; the more hunters he
keeps in his employ, the more independently he conducts his affairs,
the more numerous his enemies and the more violent their hostility.

Mr. Palesieux’s earlier plan was a better one. He brought with him
to Fort Berthold a letter of credit from Choteau Jr. & Co. His
intention was to buy everything he needed from the company and to
make friends of their representatives at the trading posts.

So, upon his arrival he produced the letter of credit, but Mr. Kipp,
who is always befogged with liquor, upon the arrival of the steam-
boat treated the wealthy sportsman discourteously—irritated him.
Mr. Palesieux proceeded to Fort Union, accompanied by several
hunters whom he took into his employ. He followed the chase for
a while in this region, but was quite sparing in outlay for that pur-
pose. Now he has more extensive plans.

A wealthy man indulging such a hobby would do best to set out in
spring on horseback to some trading post or other on the Missouri.
The farther he goes up the river the better hunting he will find. For
a lover of the chase, wandering across the prairies in that way is
more interesting than traveling comfortably with never a chance for
a shot. He should take horses, guns, ammunition, and a supply of
clothing along with him. He should be accompanied by several
hunters and guides who are thoroughly acquainted with the country
and who are expert in the use of the Sioux language, most widely
spoken of the Indian dialects. Last but not least, he should provide
himself with a letter of credit on the company for a fixed sum. Then
at every post where he may stop on his travels he will find this letter
of credit sufficient introduction to procure all that is lacking in his
equipment; consequently he need not carry on the journey thither a
greater amount of supplies, such as ill-smelling alcoholic liquors and
drugs, except in small quantities for strictly medicinal purposes to
prevent taking cold or for use in case of slight wounds or bruises.

Having arrived at the trading post which he has chosen for his
destination, he makes an arrangement with the bourgeois for room
and board by the month, for heat, and for the care of his horses. He
is supposed to be content with conditions under which the bourgeois
lives; eats at the first table, not at a table set especially for him, where
he may enjoy choice dishes while all other occupants of the fort are
obliged to be satisfied, perhaps, with plainer fare; for instance, he
must not try to enforce compliance with his desire to have fresh
meat served when wild animals are not to be found within a range
of 40 miles. or to have coffee, sugar, and meal in excess when supplies

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 267

on hand are barely sufficient for carrying on the fur trade. As one
can readily understand, the bourgeois dare not, for the sake of just
one man who is to be at the fort but a short while, endanger his trade
interests for the future by causing the defection of customers whom
he could win back again only at great sacrifice, incurring a loss that
would very soon swallow up temporary profits on some items.

If he depends for food and drink on the bourgeois, he dispenses
with all appeals for such things on the part of Indians; he delivers
himself, so to speak, from all importunate petitions or, at least, from
injury to himself, if he fail to gratify the wishes of Indians.

By purchasing everything that he needs, as well as gifts and re-
wards, from the manager at the fort, he obligates the latter to render
him assistance in word and deed; it is to the interest of the bourgeois
to become his friend. Owing to high transportation rates, he would
pay just as much to bring his supplies with him as he has to pay at
the fort. Furthermore, by taking up his abode at the fort under
such circumstances he enjoys the same privileges that are granted the
company in regard to hunting on Indian domain. If he has some-
thing of value stolen from him the bourgeois through his influence
can recover the lost article. At the same time he must take into con-
sideration that a man who occupies the position of commanding officer
and responsible manager at a fort is displeased when one does not
recognize his authority or acts contrary to his regulations; such be-
havior would precipitate an immediate rupture. When he is thus
allowed to travel from one fort to another under the protection of
the company he can always be assured of an opportunity to follow
the chase, while if he assumes the responsibility of directing his hunt-
ing independently he is compelled to search perpetually for the wild
beasts. Only in a Robisoniad do all the different species of animals
draw near, as if under the spell of a magic charm; in reality, even
a region abundantly rich in animal life is soon turned to no account
by a troop of hunters.

January 15. Le Gras brought only two leather cabrets to exchange;
as soon as he had received as much as they were worth he came to
me and asked for a rope with which to tether his saddle horse. Then
came the Platteman (Garcon du Fraissée) and wished something to
eat. Mr. Denig answered, “Yes; when you bring hides for my
trade.”

“But you will, at least, let me have some smoking mixture?”

“The upland willow grows quite near your tent.”

“Then give me a flint and steel.”

“I haven’t one; neither have I any coal, that I might have such
a thing made.”

“Well, can I get a file? I need something of the sort.”

268 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

“Good! Then bring in some robes.”

Mr. Denig fied to my room, hoping to escape such insistent beg-
ging, but Le Gras soon hunted him out.

“Now say at once what it is you want,’ Mr. Denig interposed
before the former could speak. “First?”

“A calico case for my pipestem”, Le Gras began, “long enough
to hang over at both ends.”

“Second?” Mr. Denig went on, counting off on his fingers.

“Hyewater.”

“Third?”

“Tobacco.”

“Fourth ?”

Le Gras could not help laughing and thereupon gave up any
further petitioning.

Smith, Cadotte, and Antoine returned this evening from a 4 days’
hunt with only two elks; this shows how difficult it is to start game
in a region inhabited by Indians in large numbers.

January 16. Painted my first study of the elk. These animals are
neither so graceful nor so lordly as our stags; their straight backs
and strong legs remind one rather more of the cow. I am very
anxious to make my studies of animals from life, as well as my
sketches of natural scenes, so thorough that they cannot fail to sat-
isfy the naturalists; I have not roamed so far and wide and en-
dured so much merely for the sake of painting pictures according
to my own fancy. I must be strictly true to nature in my repre-
sentation of forms, colors, and movements.

If we should have a heavier snowfall, say, several feet deep, In-
dians would wander about here less and wild game in our vicinity
would be left in peace. In other winters, so I am told, wild animals
have approached the fort within shooting distance; one could stand
just outside the gate and kill buffaloes and antelopes. Never give
up hope, never despair.

January 17. Notwithstanding this frightfully cold weather, Rot-
tentail, with a number of his adherents, came here to arrange for an
advance payment so that he can revive his business.

At the same time he gave us an account of the disaster that befell
him. The Absaroka were taken unawares by the Yellowstone flood
while they slept. They had heard, it is true, the thunderous roar
of the waters breaking through the ice, but attributed the sound to
a violent gale that was sweeping through the forest. Occupants of
the village lost more or less according as their tents were pitched
on high ground or low. Some were put to it to save even their
children; others brought away some of their bedclothes also. As
luck would have it, Rottentail, his horses, and six fine mules were on
the high shore. The berdache lost everything except the buffalo

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 269

robe in which she was sleeping. Two horses, her supply of raw
hides, of finished buffalo robes, commodities, provisions, knives,
everything was swept away by the swift stream. She had to struggle
against the rushing, ice-cold water to save herself{—it came up to
her chest, and so chilled her limbs that they became swollen—no
wonder. Some of the more daring youths, at great risk of their
lives, tried to snatch their most valuable belongings from the stream ;
repeatedly they sprang back into the flood to rescue something.
Rottentail’s tent they could not fish out because it was too heavy,
and the ground on which they stood was too insecure. But, though
it was carried off, they found it again 6 days later entangled in
some bushes.

What a picturesque scene: Fathers and mothers struggling to save
their children, young men to rescue their sweethearts, oldish bache-
lors and widows to hold on to their goods and chattels, some few,
stripped of everything, happy to escape with skin whole, while
brave men mounted on strong horses contend against the current to
assist those whose strength is failing, to encourage them anew and
succor them.

January 18. Rottentail presented Mr. Denig with a military
headdress containing 36 eagle feathers, that is, three full eagle tails
valued by Indians at the price paid for three good pack horses. For
such a present as that Rottentail expected naturally to receive some
gift in return. Indians are never generous toward a white person;
they expect always a gift in return, sooner or later. Even among
his own people an Indian is liberal with gifts (meat excepted) only
to win friends or partisans, to secure for himself a large number
of adherents.

Inasmuch as I am not able to pay $36 for this interesting head
attire I am going to paint a picture of it.

Rottentail brought nine robes to sell; as soon as he received the
worth of them the berdache claimed one as her property. Rotten-
tail laid the blame on his wife; she admitted that the robe belonged
to the berdache, but claimed to have delivered to Jim Hawthorn
nine robes besides that one.

Now, for the first time, Mr. Denig sees that Jim Hawthorn does
not understand the Crow dialect at all. Rottentail is a Yankee:
he is smart. Mr. Denig has to pay twice the usual amount for the
robe—the flatterer’s shares in this joint business are declining in
value. Rottentail bade us farewell until spring; he will not come
back until he has once more become rich. Now that is sensible of
you. Do but go; the fewer Indians we have in this vicinity the more
animals are to be seen. For my studies, beasts of the chase are now
more welcome than Indians.

270 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

January 19. All of a sudden there is profound quiet at this fort;
truly a calm after the storm. Mr. Denig most kindly invited me to
make a copy of the Indian war headgear in his warm and com-
fortable office. He had Packinaud come in, therefore, and put it on
properly, so as to serve me as model. His countenance as seen be-
neath the feathers caused much pleasant merriment—flattered his
vanity not a little. My studies progress slowly, yet they steadily
increase. Indeed, they are becoming so abundant that my first plan
for a collection begins to seem impracticable, that is, too limited.
Which pictures shall I paint? Which omit? Besides, there is the
life of the fur traders, the mountaineers, and the half-breeds, their
hunting expeditions, their adventures, their pleasures and their suf-
ferings, their amours, their good fortune and bad, their travels, their
work, dangers they face on water and land, in heat and in frost,
in a region of redskins and wild beasts—are not all those matters
of exceeding interest ?

When the last buffalo passes the last wild beast of the chase will
have disappeared; furthermore, the last trapper will have disap-
peared and the last fur traders.

January 20. Smith wants my fire steel for his benefit early in the
morning; he is going on a hunt. Throughout the entire fort not a
fire steel to be had for its weight in gold. Not a fire steel, a utensil
of such importance, and no coal, in so extended an enterprise as this
fur-trading business. Hunters find their flint and steel indispen-
sable; matches are too easily affected by dampness to be practical
and, furthermore, we have no supply in stock. So Smith is at a loss
unless he can get mine; all the other hunters need their own them-
selves or else, in consequence of the high value placed upon fire
steels at the moment, are unwilling to expose so necessary an object
to the risk of coming within the reach of an Indian’s long fingers.
Now Smith can be of great service to me, if he brings back with him
the heads of the large animals slain, and the bodies entire of the
smaller ones, thus providing me models for my studies; without
hesitation, therefore, I made him a present of my flint and steel. In
doing this I was perfectly aware of the fact that in this place a man
never knows where he will sleep the next night or whether he may
not be sent unexpectedly into the open where a fire steel is just as
necessary as knife and gun.

Smith says that at this season buck elks live apart from the female
elks and range in groups of 4 or 5 to 8; the females range in droves
of from 10 to 20, together with the brockets.°* He gave me an account
also of a large cave in the red earth at the source of the Missouri.
Only Blackfeet go into this cave in any great numbers. That they

61 JT. e,, 2-year-old stags.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ OTs

may not lose their way in the numerous adjoining caverns, they make
fast a long rope at the entrance, as they enter the cave, and take the
other end along with them. Indians find therein, quite frequently,
skeletons of men and of animals, which discoveries lead them to be-
lieve that those unfortunates got bewildered in the labyrinth, could
not find the way out, and starved to death.

For the sake of conserving his stock of dried meat Mr. Denig plans
to send some of his men and horses “into the country” where both
man and beast can find food for themselves. Although he has still
nearly 15,000 pounds on hand he is forced to use at least 60 pounds
a day, on account of the multitude of people who eat here, and at
that rate the supply will be rapidly exhausted. Moreover, he can
get a good price for this meat just now at Fort Pierre where buffa-
loes are rarely seen. As soon as our men from the winter posts
come back many of us will find very little to do here; consequently,
some of us should support ourselves.

How happy I would be if I might do that. Then I should get all
the chance I want to study beasts of the chase, their ways of doing,
their mode of living, how they are traced out, pursued, and slain.
For me the mere portrayal of an animal, however true the repre-
sentation may be, is unsatisfactory when my desire is to paint the
interesting scenes in the midst of which the animal lives. I must
become acquainted also with details of the beasts’ life, how they are
grouped, what their characteristics are, their appetites, their virtues,
their weaknesses, whether they prefer prairie or forest, coppice or
hill, marshes or river, at what season of the year bucks live with
their mates and when the females cast their young, etc.

January 21. Spent my whole day painting a sketch of a pair of
elk horns. One branch of these antlers is so entirely unlike the other
that one would think them two prongs taken from different deer
rather than a pair growing on the same skull, but even so the lines are
in accord; that is, straight lines interchange with the wavelike, undu-
lating curves—are seldom exactly parallel. Wavelike lines or wind-
ing curves never run parallel in animal bodies, nor do they ever
precisely coincide in the joints, either at their starting point or at
their extreme end. Straight lines, particularly if they are vertical,
indicate firmness, stability; sinuous lines, on the contrary, denote
movement and energy; circular or curved lines signify strength.

Too large a number of straight lines in any living form causes
stiffness or rigidity; too many curved lines brings about bulkiness,
hence awkwardness; too many wavelike or sinuous lines indicate lack
of principle or fickleness. To assume that there is one definite and
distinct line of beauty, as Hogarth asserts, is totally useless, for there
is only one standard of beauty. Even beauty supreme as embodied
in the perfect human form is compounded of many varied lines,

272 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

straight alternating now with sinuous undulations of line, now with
the rounded curve. Furthermore, the human figure embodies two-
told beauty of form: The virile body of man and the delicate loveli-
ness of woman. These two differing forms can be blended in one and
the same figure, as in the representations of angels, only by sacrific-
ing those characteristics which distinguish the two sexes. What one
gains in tenderness and delicacy one loses in strength. In portraying
the masculine form one tends more to the use of straight lines; in
representing the feminine, the sinuous or wavelike curve. As a
matter of course, one can lay down a universal principle which tran-
scends special forms and colors in determining our standard of
beauty, but one can no more prescribe one single line or one special
color as absolute norm than one can determine by rule that all human
souls are of the same character and to be judged by the same stand-
ard; for beauty is not perfection of form and color, but the expression
of indwelling spirit, 1. e., of the soul.

Any living creature, any plant in the natural world, even a life-
less body may be beautiful in so far as its form is a complete and
harmonious expression of the life principle embodied. Hence thera
is infinite variety in beauty, both in form and in color. Nor are these
widely varying revelations of beauty to be valued in the same degree,
but each according to the importance of the idea expressed, according
as soul or informing life principle is rendered perceptible to the
senses. A body actuated by its own being is, as a matter of course,
endowed with nobler form, has a more complex structure, than that
of a plant. Accordingly, though any object that reveals a given
idea in completeness, that corresponds perfectly in form to the pur-
pose of its being is called beautiful—and this may apply to the most
heterogeneous representations, as widely diverse as thunderstorms
and lilies, mountains, rocks, doves, dwelling houses, and the sea—yet
only those subjects that represent the consummate embodiment of
creative mind, independent power of will, depth of feeling, and
nobility of soul offer the loftiest ideal of beauty that is possible for
man to conceive. So, one who merely imitates Nature’s forms ranks
below the creative artist who produces poetic compositions according
to his own ideal; the copyist is far less esteemed than one who creates.
One who merely reproduces what he sees need have only feeling for
form and color; may, in other respects, be stupid and untaught.

Not so the artist whose productions are his own: he must be en-
dowed with creative imagination; he must have an exact knowl-
edge of his subject; he must be capable of keen discrimination in
his judgment of forms, colors, and harmonies; and, instead of al-
lowing himself to be blindly influenced by his feeling, he must
control his efforts and give an account to himself for what he de-
termines to do. To master perspective requires more intellect than

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ Zia

Bitzius, in one of his works, gives a painter credit for. (Jer. %
Golthey.) Because he was acquainted with only one artist, the
simple but highly talented Mind, he formed the opinion that one
need have no intellectual endowments at all to become a celebrated
painter. Mind’s cats are famous (but, as usual, not known or highly
valued until long after his death) bécause he represents them in
a manner so extraordinarily true to life. He never put in a back-
ground, never painted a picture in all its completeness, yet among
those who attempt only imitation of Nature he takes first rank.

Eberhard’s descriptions in “Abwechslung und Einheit” give me no
satisfactory idea of beauty: for instance, a clear heaven and quiet
sea are beautiful without any note of alternate change, because they
suggest the idea of infinite space; and chaos, without form and void,
or a storm-boding sky cannot be truly represented by clouds in
glaring colors.

Smith has come back with nothing to show for his pains; entire
region inundated. He could find no way out of the marshy depths.

January 22. Several most interesting compositions are taking
shape in my brain. I begin to realize that my first plan for a
gallery of paintings from Indian life is too restricted in scope; I
must extend the bounds I had set, and arrange for a larger collec-
tion of pictures. But why adhere to my first plan for a collection?
Why not paint the pictures singly and offer them for sale as oppor-
tunity offers.’

7 (Written on October 11, 1856.) After 4 years of strenuous work I finished last month
the collection mentioned above, but for the most part only in sketches. In New York,
about the time of my departure, I was seized with ague, and, owing to that ailment
combined with seasickness, I had an abominable existence during my return voyage.
Though weakened from hunger and illness, I dared not, with my very limited means,
even think of waiting in Paris until I recovered, but hurried home, where I arrived long
before I was expected. Months later, when through the motherly care and assistance
of my beloved sisters and brother I was restored to my former vigor, I began work on
the collection of paintings from Indian life with the hope of interesting some art dealer
in a foreign country.

The time was unfavorable for my undertaking, owing to wars in the Hast, and I see
now that my project included too large a number of pictures. I was retarded, moreover,
in my efforts to execute the paintings rapidly by having my head so overcrowded with
ideas. Having met with refusals from several art dealers, I decided to paint for sale
several works in water color and in oil to defray my living expenses. Things went badly
enough. In the first place, Indian life is of no interest to the public in Switzerland ;
furthermore, audacious critics, ignorant of the subject, went so far as to contend that my
pictures were not true to life—as if I would have devoted 6 years to a genre merely for
the sake of indulging fancies in the end. To be sure, I could have followed here the
example of Neu Wied and Catlin in their works. This year I have been particularly
unfortunate with my Indian collection, but as I have now the position of drawing master
and shall be henceforth, I trust, independent of a public composed of pedants, I deter-
mined to complete my collection of paintings from Indian life, at least, in outline. This
accomplishment relieves my mind in a twofold sense: In the first place, I now feel that,
come what may, my journey shall not have been made in vain, and, secondly, my brain
is no longer burdened with so many crowding pictures. However, I do not regard this
collection as the end and aim of my endeavors, but rather as a means to my advancement
in art and, finding comfort in the progress I have made thus far, I look forward to the
future with hope that, without neglecting the duties of my position, I shall be able to
devote myself still further to my ideals, giving no thought to this public with its petty
formalism.

274. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 115

January 24. Mr. Denig gave me Dr. Moller’s Symbolik to read.
Pare de Smet left it behind for Mr. Denig, trusting he will become
convinced that the Catholic religion is far preferable to the Prot-
estant. This will occasion further “subtle speculations.”

January 25. Water from the Yellowstone River is said to produce
goiter, due, it is supposed, to the content of yellow tuff or tufa.
Neither the Missouri nor the Mississippi contains this goiter-pro-
ducing element.

Yesterday evening Bruyére arrived from his winter trading post
for a visit and La Bombarde returned at last from the Blackfeet
domain, bringing 17 horses with him. As I have mentioned already,
he accompanied Mr. Culbertson thither for the purpose of bringing
back horses. Mr. Culbertson got to Fort Benton in safety, after a
journey of 24 days, and dispatched forthwith a messenger (express)
direct to St. Louis. At every post under the direction of this com-
pany the expressman will be supplied anew with provisions and, if
need be, with fresh horses.

After I had taken care of the different saddles and camp fixings
and made a memorandum of everything, I found, to my utter
astonishment, upon entering my room, that Master Reynard had
escaped from his box and was cutting all sorts of capers in the
middle of the floor. He had gnawed through one of the narrow
slats nailed across the side of the box and wriggled out. I slammed
to the door and seized my buffalo robe with which to catch the rene-
gade. I saw at once that was going to be no easy matter, for he
made tremendous leaps, over the table, over the chairs, the pile of
firewood, always bearing his superb tail with fine effect. Finally, to
my utmost perplexity, he took refuge under the bed, where he
crouched in a corner and gave forth sharp, guttural sounds—kschk,
keh, kch. I had a hard time getting him out. After we had chased
each other for a long while up and down the room, I succeeded in
throwing my robe over him; whereupon I seized the crafty fox by
his neck and put him again in confinement. It was lucky he did not
jump through the window into the open; I should have been severely
censured if he had.

January 26. Painted a study in still life of a female elk. Observed
in detail her shape, color, quality of hair, and proportions, then her
movements, in order to get a correct idea, from actual observation, of
the beast and its habits.

January 28. Upon reading Moller’s Symbolik I am struck with
glaring contradictions in the Bible. In this book both predestination
and free will are plainly taught; yet the two doctrines are totally
inconsistent. It is a question of accepting one or the other—the two
cannot be reconciled. First of all, the Bible teaches that in the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 275

beginning God created heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in
them is; that He knows all things, everything that goes on in this
world that He has made, everything that is going to be, even the
number of hairs on our heads; therefore, we are not to be troubled
in heart or afraid. Our lives are in His hand; some are chosen,
others are left (which is most reasonable) ; we have no choice in the
matter, are not creatures of free will. Faith is required of us;
through faith, not by works, we are saved.

On the other hand, we are commanded to subdue our earthly pas-
sions, to strive for Godlikeness. We are taught that punishment is
inflicted not only on unbelievers but also upon those who do not
make good use of their gifts, who do not multiply the talents
bestowed. We are even led into temptation in order that our virtues
may be put to the test, for without temptation there is no trans-
gression; hence no reward. Yet we are born in iniquity, slaves to
original sin. We are to be set free through our unreasoning faith;
this apples, however, only to the elect whom the Heavenly Father,
so we are told, takes especial pleasure in chastening by the infliction
of severe tests.

God created us, knows us through and through, brings us into
temptations—wherefore? He knows beforehand what we are going
to do. Are we to understand that our Maker watches our poor
flounderings and downfall as a means of diversion? What a farce!
Yet this was the doctrine taught by Luther and by Calvin.

Romanists place the human being on a higher plane, but their
viewpoint is also inconsistent with Bible teaching. Assuming that
man is endowed with free will to choose that which is good, to avoid
that which is evil; in other words, that the human creature is not
the mere plaything of his Maker—Catholics entrenched themselves
behind the mysteries—the divine mystery of the world. According
to their belief, man by a virtuous life may win heaven, where all
God’s people are judged alike. Moreover, man will suffer punish-
ment if he does not obey instructions given him in the Christian
Gospels or, in other words, if he does not endeavor with all his might
to fulfill the divine commands.

But are we endowed with good and bad qualities proportionately ?
That is the question. Is every human being given greater power of
understanding, more moral strength in proportion to his strong pas-
sions, in order that he may the better curb evil tendencies and keep
them in proper restraint? Not so! Our native endowments are in
the highest degree disproportionate.

It is said, moreover, that we are born in sin, inheritors of original
sin. God tempts us, guides us, inflicts penalties upon us. In oppo-
sition to such omnipotence, how can man exert his free will? Can

276 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 115

he be called a free agent when God directs his will? Under such
conditions, can there be such a thing as sin, as violation of divine
law? If our Maker, knowing beforehand whether his creature is
strong or weak, leads him deliberately into temptation, is not God
himself the tempter? Is that not to make us mere playthings of
fate? Is that not diabolical trifling with our feelings, our struggles
and conflicts? Can a devil exist independently of this omniscient
and omnipotent God?

What is the Devil, anyhow, but a personification of the evil de-
sires, wicked enticements that God himself causes to exist? This
formidable figure of Satan must needs have been created by the
Catholics to prove that God is all good and to represent to Chris-
tians a personal foe whom they have to combat perpetually—a foe
always prowling about, seeking to ensnare God’s people and drag
them down to hell. But for the Devil they would be forced to
ascribe evil as well as good to God; and to teach that the good and
merciful Ged should, in His wisdom, so trifle with Christians would
have been a fatal contradiction. That He perseveringly led man
astray: Such doctrine was not tolerable; the Evil One had to be
contrived. But have contradictions been reconciled thereby?
Superficially, yes.

But the question in my mind is whether this power that one must
concede to the Devil does not necessarily controvert the omnipotence
of an Almighty God. How is it possible that He allows the exist-
ence of this powerful rival, ever on the alert to thwart His designs,
always trying to play some trick? And must we not confess that
the Tempter all too often succeeds?

The shocking and formidable Devil, the frightful agony of burn-
ing in eternal fire, are inventions to which the early Catholics were
forced to resort in order to bring rude and unlettered peoples to a
better morality. They found barbarous folk too much creatures of
sense to gain anything at all from the teaching of abstract truth,
and so had to make their meaning clear by means of images, con-
crete comparisons, such as a great and good spirit, a wicked spirit,
heaven, hell; and at the same time assist their understanding by
means of appearances, visions, as well as other forms of the miracu-
lous. They resorted to this because barbarians have not faculties
of mind sufficiently keen or feelings sufficiently sensitive to be able
to comprehend the idea of hell as suffering inflicted upon a soul
tortured by bitter remorse or guilty conscience.

During centuries of advancement Christians attained to a degree
of cultivation that enabled them to understand true doctrine without
tangible evidence.

Many of them could not only grasp the truth of Christ’s life and
teaching without the aid of miracles (even among the Jews evidence

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ OTT

of miraculous power was not necessary to impress facts of Christian
doctrine), without the aid of material images, impersonations, or
intermediary Pontiff, etc., but were also capable of proceeding with
vigor according to their beliefs. The first Protestants had no desire
to take a different viewpoint in Bible teaching from that adhered to
by the Catholics, but only to clear away certain abuses in the church
and to get rid of the priesthood. Their differences of opinion in
matters of faith as revealed in interpretations of the same law, the
same doctrine, became first known during a religious war originated
by the Catholics with the hope of nipping this new teaching in the
bud. Neither in the promulgation of their doctrine, however, nor by
means of other weapons, could they withstand successfully the spirit
of the age. But the Catholics are at fault in that, by their incessant
controversies, they drove the zealous Protestants on the rocks where,
owing to the obstinacy of Calvin and his followers, they are even
today stuck fast. I say this because I regard the doctrine of pre-
destination taught by Calvin as unworthy of human beings who
claim to be Christians. Such doctrine makes each of us a mere play-
thing in the hand of God; in other words, sets aside any question of
virtue or responsibility, does away with sin; hence with reward or
punishment; for, according to that interpretation of the Scriptures,
we are as irresponsible as puppets in a colossal Punch and Judy show.

Calvin’s doctrine is only for those who are sufficiently informed to
count themselves among the limited number chosen by God for
salvation.

Inasmuch as my ideal transcends that of blind belief, I am, as a
matter of course, a champion of free will. It is by the possession of
his will power that man takes rank above the lower animals, that he
has dominion over all the earth, that he devotes his talents to the
accomplishment of his own aims, that he is capable of rising to higher
things in his efforts to perfect his gifts. By the direction of his will
he puts to use his inventive faculties, is no mere mechanical device,
penetrates Nature’s secret forces and gains knowledge, hitherto un-
known to man, with regard to the origin and movements of heavenly
bodies.

This is the great mystery behind which Catholics must entrench
themselves if they refuse to acknowledge that human beings are
endowed with Godlike minds, that God is only the source of nature’s
secret forces. The further man progresses, through the power of his
own mind, with his discoveries and inventions, the less will his ideas
dwell on God’s attributes and God’s power. If he but lose sight of
the personality of God and His close association with man the Divine
Being becomes to him a spirit.

If, on the other hand, he conceives God as a remote Being, eternal,
all-powerful, and omniscient, then he recedes daily more and more

278 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

from the conception of our Maker as possessing attributes of love,
mercy, and goodness; for how can He be the embodiment of all love
and all good if He elects for Himself only a few whom He has chosen
for salvation, purposely makes some bad and throws them into the
clutches of the so-called Devil, and torments others still with constant
temptations ?

As the giants stormed the heights of Olympus, according to ancient
legend, so the inventive mind of man assails the heavens in this mod-
ern day. We no longer fear the thunderbolt as threatening direct
vengeance or announcing the visitation of the Supreme Ruler of
the universe. Mankind has only one thing of which to be afraid:
lest through the agency of man’s discoveries the equilibrium of the
earth be disturbed, resulting in the overthrow and consequent annihi-
lation of our planet.

Those who must needs personify the living cause of all things as a
God may do so. For many, there is much that is good in such a
belief; therefore, I would not rob anyone of it. But that there is
God who concerns Himself with the destiny of only individual persons
seems nonsense to me, because any discussion of such a belief involves
too much that is contradictory and unjust.

Phrenology is as yet in its infancy, to be sure, but when this subject
becomes an exact science it is bound to support my views on these
matters, and furnish the proof of what I have said.

January 29. Last Tuesday evening Morgan returned from his
winter post on the lower Bourbeuse. We found the first and second
tables so overcrowded with bourgeois, clerks, interpreters, hunters,
workmen, and horse guards that Mr. Denig saw the time had now
come to send out a “starvation band,” together with their half-frozen
saddle horses, as he had so often spoken of doing. The nearby region
where our garnered hay had been flooded upon the inopportune
overflow of the Yellowstone was selected as good pasture and within
easy reach of hunting ground well stocked with deer. The hay ricks
are surrounded by a great shallow sheet of water covered with a
thin layer of ice. As Cadotte, Smith, La Bombarde, and La Pierre,
our four best deer stalkers, are among the troop, there will be a gay,
jolly rivalry. Those hunters would soon devastate any region, so
far as deer are concerned. I would have liked to go with them, and
yet I am glad to make myself useful, meanwhile, at the fort; other-
wise, my services would be dispensed with entirely too soon.

Today the expressman went on his way, with one fellow-traveler
and a pack horse, to St. Louis. <A difficult undertaking at this time
of year: 2,500 miles on foot all the way to St. Joseph, from which
point he may travel by steamer. Hawthorn left also with one com-
panion for Blackfeet territory, where his family lives.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 279

Afterwards Packinaud related to me an Herantsa tradition con-
cerning the origin of that tribe. He began by saying that the annuai
retelling of this tradition is a solemn occasion among the old Her-
antsa. The story is never begun until they have at hand a sufficient
quantity of tobacco mixture to last the entire length of time required
for the narration, i. e., 2 days and nights.

Herantsa believe that they came forth from under a great water
(a sea), but only the half of their people; the rest of them remained
behind. In other words, they climbed out of a cave and had to
swing themselves up to the surface of the earth by the limb of a
tree. When a woman great with child seized the branch, however,
it bent so far down that the woman stopped up the outlet of the
cave. When the Herantsa came out upon the earth they saw the
sun and moon for the first time. There lived in the moon at that
time a frog and a woman of the Herantsa tribe. The Sun took a
piece of coal or charred earth and said to those two in the moon:
The one who makes the most noise with the teeth when chewing this
I will marry. Whereupon the frog took a piece of coal and began to
chew, but the woman, for her part, took roasted corn. She made
the most noise with her teeth; so the Sun married that woman. She
gave birth to a child—a boy.

Every day the father followed the chase, bringing home great
quantities of meat; the mother, meanwhile, worked diligently in the
cornfield, producing an overabundance of maize. Now, as the boy
grew larger and began to play about, his father forbade his digging
“pommes blanches”;* if he disobeyed, the Sun told him, he would
die. One day, while his father was hunting, the boy went with his
mother out on the prairie, where she set to work digging “pommes
blanches.” He reminded her of what his father had said, but she
replied that he need fear no harm. Then, through the hole from
which she had taken a “pomme blanche” the mother saw the village
where her people hved—the Herantsa on earth. She watched them
at their games, at their dances, attending their droves of horses ( ?),°*
and at their work in the fields of corn. She was seized with home-
sickness. She yearned for association with her people. She told
her son to entreat his father to bring him all sinews of a buffalo cow
the next time he went hunting. The boy did as he was bidden.
When his father asked what he was going to do with them he an-
swered that he wished to make a long rope with which to play. His
father, the Sun, brought him all the sinews of a cow except one, a
short, thick tendon in her hind leg. That one he forgot. The mother
then made a long rope and, when her husband was out again on a

§ Prairie turnips.
8a Horses were unknown to the ancient Herantsa.

81634—37 19

280 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

hunt, she took it and, carrying her son, went to the hole where she
had dug the “pommes blanches.”

She laid a thick piece of wood across the opening, fastened the rope
around it, and, taking hold of the other end, let herself down toward
earth. But because the rope was too short she got only as far as the
top of a high tree. Meanwhile, the Sun having returned from the
chase found nobody at home. After searching everywhere for his
wife and child he spied them at last clinging to a long rope. He
seized a large stone, commanded it to hit his wife but leave his son
uninjured, and threw it at the woman, killing her outright.

That stone lies today, so the report goes, at the mouth of the little
Missouri. The boy got down the tree and so reached the earth. He
had no fear, because he was “medicine”, a supernatural child. He
rambled about, here and there, seeking something he could eat. Fin-
ally he came to a tent in which an old enchanter and enchantress
lived. The man was hideously ugly, the lower half of his body being
that of a serpent. When the boy entered the tent he found nobody
there, but saw an earthen vessel full of boiled corn, which he ate.
For several successive days he visited that tent, always found boiled
corn, but saw nothing of the magicians. Every evening the old en-
chantress found an empty earthenware pot from which her corn had
been eaten and tried to trace the thief.

She noticed the little fellow’s footprints, but, owing to their small
size, she was still left in doubt as to whether they were made by a boy
or a girl. To assure herself of the sex of this pilferer she laid on one
side of the vessel of boiled corn a ball such as girls kick about as a
plaything and on the other a bow and arrow. If the child is a boy,
she then said to her husband, he will take the bow and arrow; if a girl,
she will prefer the playing ball. And so that very same evening she
discovered that the thief was a boy.

After that she kept a lookout for him, and upon his arrival at the
tent she invited him to remain there with them. The old enchanter
was very wicked and of a surly temper. He gave the boy nothing
to eat, and in one instance of ill humor he forbade him to eat on pain
of death. The child did not know the meaning of fear, however, and
assured the sorcerer he would not die. He said, moreover, if he were
not allowed to eat he would kill the old man.

“You can’t kill me”, declared the enchanter; “I am ‘great medi-
cine.’ Nobody has power to kill me.”

“You think I can’t kill you? I will show you this instant.”

Whereupon, the boy took one of his arrows, placed it against his
bow, and sent it whizzing through the old man’s head with such force
that he fell dead on the spot.

When the old sorceress returned the child told her what had hap-
pened. She was not much concerned about it; on the contrary, she

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 281

made him a present of a new bow and quiver that had belonged to
her husband, the enchanter, and which unfailingly struck whatever its
possessor desired, even though the object might not be within range of
his vision,

“Now,” said the boy, “I will bring meat to the tent for you.”

And he did supply her with meat in greatest abundance. One day,
when he was roving about, he met two men, mighty enchanters, who
spoke to him. They were very hungry, they said, but were unable to
start any buffaloes.

“Ts that so?” replied the youth. “Then I will shoot a cow ® for
your benefit.”

‘““We see no cows.”

“What I promise, I will make good,” answered the youth.

He laid a magic arrow against the bowstring and spoke the words
“schima etanka” (kill a cow), and it did what he commanded. Fol-
lowing the direction of the arrow, they found the animal soon after,
and, upon cutting it up, took out an unborn calf. The young hunter
knew this to be his “medicine” (a talisman that had appeared to him
in a dream). He ran from the spot, leaving behind his magic bow
and quiver. The two enchanters recognized at once the cause of his
flight: the calf was his “medicine.” They took the unborn calf, to-
gether with his bow and quiver, and went in pursuit of him. As soon
as he was aware of the weakening of his powers he scurried up a tree.
Whereupon the two enchanters hung the tiny body of the calf at the
foot of the tree and thereby held the boy under a spell.

Then they went away and did not return until a year had passed.
They found their captive starved and emaciated. They told him that
if he wished to be free he must make a promise to procure his foster
mother for them—one night for each of them. He gave his word.
Then they removed the calf and allowed him to return home. His
foster mother was delighted to see her young huntsman back again
and insisted upon having him relate his adventures. He told her
everything, not forgetting to mention the promise whereby he had
gained his freedom.

“I know those two sorcerers,” said the old woman. “Since the
death of my husband they have been continually laying snares for me.
I refused to have anything to do with them; I detest them. But for
your sake,” she added, “I will fulfill the promise you made them; I
do this because they allowed you to come back.”

The two men came and spread their magic tents. The old witch
lay with each of them one night and then they departed.

The youth resumed his hunting expeditions. One day he saw a
rattlesnake. Now in those days reptiles of this kind were not yet

8> Cattle were unknown to the ancient Herantsa.

282 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

provided with rattles but had long bills by means of which they dug
through the earth as swiftly as they now run. This daring boy
shot the snake dead and came home and told his foster mother what
he had done.

“Now, my child,” she said, “if you go hunting tomorrow you will
come upon a nest of those serpents. If you go near them they
will certainly kill you.”

Nevertheless, conscious of his immortality, the boy walked into the
den of snakes the moment he found it and killed a great number,
but night fell before he had annihilated them. He wished then to
go home, but the night was so dark he lay down on the ground and
stuck an arrow upright at his head and one on each side of him; for
those arrows possessed the magical quality of becoming aware of
approaching danger; whereupon they would fall upon the sleeper
and wake him up. But on that night the youth was so overcome
with sleep that when a serpent came near, though one arrow after
another fell upon him, he made no preparations for defense—took
no notice whatsoéver of his impending peril.

So the snake ran clear through his body up into his head, where
it caused him most intense pain but was unable to put him to death.
To get rid of the serpent he asked whether he might be released if
he would bring to life all the snakes he had slain the day before.

“Yes; on that condition I will leave you,” said the serpent.

He shook his bow, spoke some magical words, and the dead snakes
were again alive.

When the youth returned home his foster mother said to him:

“Next time you are out hunting you will see a spring, and near
this spring a tent will be spread. Do not enter the tent; you may
lose your life if you do.”

But this bold lad sought danger; he liked nothing better. So he
went at once in search of the spring and its nearby perilous tent.
He entered without hesitation. Though it was very dark within he
could discern the trunk of a man’s body. They talked with each
other. Finally the Sun’s son asked the man in the dark tent
whether, by way of pastime, he could not contrive a game. The
latter produced two billiard [szc] wands*® and the two played to-
gether. Now it came about that, they threw the wands so uniformly
they could not decide, in the darkness, which won the game.

The man in the dark corner advised the young hunter to fetch
from a nearby tent another man who had been put there by the
witchcraft of the two sorcerers mentioned above.

“Call him here to decide.”

“What is his name?”

® Billiards were unknown to the ancient Herantsa.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 283

“Utch.”

The boy summoned the other man by the name designated. Utch
decided in favor of the youth. The man in the dark corner became
enraged and the boy slew him.

“Now,” said Utch to the heir of the Sun, “you have begun strife
that will never end. Those two sorcerers will be here tonight and
they will kill you.”

“They have not the power. I am ‘greater medicine’ than they.”
Then he told Utch what adventures he had encountered.

“Good,” said the latter. “If you wish to overcome the two sor-
cerers I will tell you what to do. Be on the watch when they
are about to go to sleep tonight, and the instant they lose con-
sciousness lay aslant over each of them one of these billiard wands.
They will no longer have strength to move, they will be powerless.”

As he was now released from the spell under which he had been
held he hurried away from the place. The two enchanters came,
and the youth rendered them powerless by means of the billiard
wands; they were unable to raise themselves from the ground.
Thereupon they said that they realized they were now in his power
and wished him to tell them what they were to do to accomplish
their release.

“Well, I have heard you have a sister enchantingly beautiful,
whom you have not yet given to any man. Give her to me and you
shall be free.”

They promised to grant his wish. He took away the two wands.

Here we concluded the narrative, for I had had more than enough
of it. I asked Packinaud to tell me instead something of the
Herantsa themselves. ‘Twenty years ago they are said to have been
a most powerful tribe, more feared than either the Sioux or the
Assiniboin. At that time they took up their habitations in five
different settlements :

¢

Tents
Ie Vahloce where, nowathey Mandan) lives. 82s. Bee ee eee 250
PAV lac eme MMe shart Meru pont he) VT SSO Ulett ee e 80
LAS OVON MT eM ER Vere eee ere be SR AEE Oot OE SE EE UE EE at 130
AVillagel ite miles) above Kite Riversis iter errr oe te eee 60
DnVvillage .Gpmiles; trom, the’ one Jast named = 42 e a 30

This makes in all 550 tents, and the tribe reckoned 1,650 warriors.
This number was reduced by epidemics of smallpox and measles to
80 warriors. Subsequently it was increased to 150, 20 of whom were
earried off last year by cholera. The Teton Sioux are said to have

been forced up into this region from St. Louis,?® the Arikara from
Council Bluffs.

10 According to Bancroft, the Sioux, at the time of La Zotas, are reported to have
inhabited the region extending westward from Missouri and the Falls of St. Anthony, and
southward even beyond the southern boundary of Arkansas.

284 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

The Arikara now inhabit the same village that heretofore the
Mandan owned; that is, they chose the same location on which to
establish their dwelling place; for under the best conditions clay
huts last not longer than 7 years. Mandan and Herantsa have always
lived most amicably together.

January 31. Morgan came the other day to barter a choice pelt of
the gold fox, ermine fur, and a black pipe in addition for my beauti-
ful pipe bowl.

February 1. That, as Mohler says, the word “Adam,” according
to its Hebraic signification, means “red earth” might be accepted
as sufficient proof, to be sure, that the copper-colored Indian is the
original progenitor of the various races of men, irrespective of the
color of their skin. That climate might easily have had its effect in
changing copper color to black or white may be true, but experience
of a thousand years tells against such an assumption. For my part,
I do not accept the belief that the human race is to be traced back to
one human pair only. In the Old Testament itself I find refutation
of such an argument; otherwise, how could it have been possible
for Cain in exile, after his brother’s murder, to have found populated
cities hitherto unknown? Furthermore, I think the Biblical descrip-
tion of Paradise and the creation of the first man and the first
woman too highly poetical to lose anything of its significance, even
though we do not trace our descent so literally to Adam and Eve.
I find nowhere in Moses’ account any so positive affirmation concern-
ing our first parents in Eden that would make indefensible my as-
sumption that several races of man may have been created at the
same time in different parts of the world. Likewise, I refuse to
believe that the so-called fall of man can be referred to relations of
sex.

If that were true, why was there a difference in sex? Why the
urgent inclination to union of the flesh? If the Creator of the
world had desired some other means whereby people were to multiply
and replenish the earth, he would have had human beings engendered
under other conditions. However, let anyone who, in defiance of
natural history, insists upon one and only one pair of human beings
as the source of our genus, explain as best he can the rise of the
different races of men. So far as I am concerned I attach just as
little significance to this belief as to the assertion that the Indian
was derived from the Jew. :

In the first place I maintain that the invariable copper-colored
skin, black hair, and brown eyes that distinguish the primitive in-
habitants of North America as a whole afford sufficient proof that
they are an individual race just as clearly differentiated from the
Caucasian as from the Ethiopian and Malayan races. Now the

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 285

Hebrews are Caucasian; 1** blue eyes and light hair are not infre-
quently seen among Jewish people, but of copper-colored skin there
is absolutely never a trace, Nevertheless, many scholars as well as
men of little learning trace the Indians’ origin to the Hebrews."

These writers claim to have discovered resemblance of features
and similarity in mode of life, both public and private. As for me,
I have never yet seen an Indian who had that distinct cast of counte-
nance we term Jewish; resemblance, in this instance, is not deter-
mined by black hair, brown eyes, hooked nose, etc., but must be
sought in those characteristics which reveal the inner spirit of a
people, which may be taken as typical of national character, such
as expression of the eyes, mold of the lips, etc. Of the Jewish pro-
pensity to bargain and to haggle I find no trace at all in the expres-
sion of the Indian; that is to say, acquisition is not the principal
end and aim of his existence. On the contrary, the redskin is by
nature heedless as to money matters and a reckless spendthrift, the
direct opposite of the thrifty, calculating Jew. His trait of liber-
ality is one of the Indian’s chief virtues; no matter how valiant or
how rich their leaders may be, it is only by generous giving that they
attain to positions of prominence. Warriors strive for personal pos-
sessions not for the sake of hoarding wealth but to gain great
numbers of adherents by the presentation of gifts. Like most
barbarous tribes, Indians place great value on largesse; as an indi-
cation of this, the number of gifts conferred is emblazoned on the
chief’s robe of state just the same as “coups.”

How different are the Jews! Were not the patriarchs of ancient
days thrifty people, rich in lands and herds? To me it seems
extraordinary, furthermore, considering the pertinacity with which
the Jews hold to their Mosaic belief, that Indians, if directly de-
scended from the Hebrews, should have lost so completely all con-
tact with Judaism. Another unlikeness that occurs to me: Jews,
as we all know, are strong on beards; look upon the beard as more
or less sacred—swear by the beard. Now, there is not a beard to be
found throughout the Indian tribes; not the trace of a beard. But
what surprises me most with regard to similarity in the mode of
life among Hebrews and Indians is that none of the native North
American tribes did anything in the way of stock raising. Though
the Indian drinks with zest the milk of a buffalo just killed or of a
hind or a doe, the idea seems never to have occurred to one of them
to breed these animals for the sake of their milk. Nowhere do I
find any inclination toward cattle breeding, not even for their meat,

10. The author errs here; the Hebrews belong to the Semitic stock.
11 For example, Lord Kingsborough, Catlin, Captain Maryatt in the Mormons. The last
two prompted my writing down the ideas stated above.

286 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLD. 115

which Indians particularly like for food. No, the redskins’ only
domestic animal is the dog. Is it at all likely that Hebrew tribes,
shepherds from the beginning of time, wandering into this part of
the world where the buffalo and other milk-producing animals were
already at hand, would have forgotten entirely that especial branch
of industry? Certainly not. This total neglect of cattle breeding
among Indian tribes is to me utterly incomprehensible. It seems
impossible that any people who progressed as far as they in the
cultivation of the soil and in other important branches of knowledge
should never have thought of so simple a thing as the taming of
animals and getting milk from cows.

Not only would they have had an abundance of food and clothing
but they would have found also abundant opportunities for the
employment of their energies in defending their herds from wild
beasts. That one striking difference in the way of life among Amer-
ican Indians as compared with that among aborigines of the Old
World is alone sufficient proof to me that the former constitute a
separate and distinct race of men. Throughout the entire con-
tinent of the Americas only Peruvians (Quichua) were shepherds.
They found in their homeland the llama and alpaca, which they
raised in herds, and used the wool of those animals for the weav-
ing of cloth, out of which they made the garments they wore. In
this respect the culture of the Incas and their subjects sets them
apart from the neighboring tribes. Aboriginal South Americans
have no kindred likenesses, either in color, physiognomy, or in
speech, with North American Indians. The Guarani, Patagonians,
and Quichua were also tribes totally different, their manner of life
dependent wholly upon natural conditions in that part of the coun-
try where they dwell. In the pampas, they were roving hunters;
in the forests and mountains where great numbers of the inhabitants
were engaged in tilling the soil, they had settled habitations.

Just as a people’s mode of life is determined by the vegetation and
animals abounding in the region they inhabit, so climatic condi-
tions and atmosphere exert an influence upon the bodies of men
and affect the color of their skin.

Nor do the few customs and arrangements for the conduct of
their daily life among Indians, especially Mexicans (Aztec), and
Hebrews furnish any basis for argument. Man in his natural state
is everywhere the same, be he white, yellow, red, black, or spotted,
hairy or smooth skinned. All human beings have exactly the same
bodily structure, consequently they have like needs, are dependent
on the same conditions that make existence possible, use the same
sort of implements and utensils for hunting, cooking, tilling the soil,
fishing, making war, and for transportation. Necessity is the mother
of invention the world over; hence, various and diverse tribes living

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 287

under similar natural conditions hit upon the same ideas. Man
got his first sustenance from the fruits of the fields and forests, by
fishing, killing birds and quadrupeds. When he was unable to get
sufficient food by such means he resorted to agriculture and stock
raising. When, in the conduct of affairs, related families lived
together as one community, they laid the foundation of tribal or
national government under the direction of chosen leaders or chiefs
and for the establishment of regulations that would insure better
order, security, and success in their undertakings.

The more forceful these associated families were and the more
densely populated their communities, the more difficult their com-
munal management, the more complex their organization. This has
been found true in all parts of the world; accordingly, one finds
among primitive peoples everywhere bows and arrows, knives,
spears, bludgeons, slings, shields; boats made of the hides of animals
or hollowed out of tree trunks, rafts constructed with stems of
trees or, sometimes, of reeds; throughout the world one finds huts
built of twigs and branches or of clay, tents of skins, earthenware
vessels, and beasts of burden; in all places, the first plowing was
done by means of crooked branches torn from hardwood .trees or
with shoulder blades of the larger wild beasts, and clothes were made
from the wool of animals, animal pelts, and of hemp; in place
of knives, sharp stones were used for cutting, and fishbones were
used for needles. Agriculture is the basis upon which is builded
every firmly established state. In tilling his land the savage be-
comes attached to the soil and loyal to his native land. Upon hus-
bandry depend settled habitations, spacious country residences; as
the result of husbandry, business thrives, inventions are called
into being, arts flourish, sciences are in demand, and laws are
enacted for the better morality and better government that is
essential to the prosperity of a state.

So much has been written in contradiction of the Indians’ fit-
ness for education, by way of excuse for injustices done them, that
I cannot forbear breaking a lance in their defense. I am all the
more inclined to do this because they cannot defend themselves
against assailants unknown to them who attack them in books, and
because I, a native of Switzerland, with no colonial policy to pro-
tect, am able to take a view all the more unprejudiced. In their
primitive condition the state of the Indians was much the same
as that of our forefathers in the so-called Stone Age; they were
unacquainted with the art of working metals because they had no
need of that sort of thing. Arrow heads made of stone, imple-
ments contrived out of bones, served their purposes. As long as they
could be sure of a steady supply of food by following the chase they
remained hunters; with increasing population they began to till the

288 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

soil: they planted maize, beans, potatoes, and tobacco. Whether
men or women worked the land when they first began to farm is a
matter of no consequence. That the Indians did actually cultivate
their land throughout the region lying between the Mississippi and
the Atlantic Ocean is a fact to which travelers and adventurers who
have visited this country since its discovery by Columbus collectively
testify—all of them, whether Spaniards, Frenchmen, or Britons.

Yet Capt. Mayne Reid (together with a number of others) attempts
to prove the contrary. Will he set aside historical fact, a thou-
sand incontrovertible facts, for the sake of vindicating the right of
Englishmen to rob Indians of their land? He says, in his Scalp
Hunters:

“No handful of men have the right to withhold from the great
body of mankind a valuable portion of the earth’s surface, without
using it.”

Granting that this statement is true, it has no application to the
Indian tribes inhabiting the eastern part of the United States, nor
can it justify the colonization of this part of the world by English-
men on the ground that there is a lack of uncultivated land in their
own country, for the Indians have as much of their domain under
cultivation as their needs require, while, in England, there is even
today much land idle—yea, wide stretches of heath and forest set
aside solely for the purpose of hunting. I will furnish later the
proof of what I say from Bancroft. If Capt. Mayne Reid had
made the statement quoted above in that part of his narrative de-
scribed as “poetically colored,” I should have taken no notice of it
at all. I should have paid just as little attention to it as to Dr. Bird’s
Nick of the Woods or Pierre St. John’s Introduction to the Trapper’s
Bride and the White Stone Canoe.14* I should have regarded it as
“fact enameled by fiction,’ of which he himself says, “My book ex-
hibits no higher purpose than to amuse,” and farther, “If you cannot
believe the scenes true, may I hope that you will acknowledge their
vraisemblance?” But in the Notes he assumes the role of instructor.
Does he not desire, in fact does he not mean to be accepted there as
“true” rather than “vraisemblable” ?

Such practice on the part of the captain as that to which I have
referred above is not only wrong but dangerous, for the reason
that his most interesting bool will certainly be far more widely read
than accounts published in duly authorized histories.12 If he had
pronounced his judgment with reference to the prairie Indians only

“4a The White Stone Canoe or White Flint Canoe idea was developed from a block
of ice, the boat of the Winter Gods. See article Tawiskaron, Bull. 30, Bur. Amer, Ethn.

? We find sufficient proof in East India and in China that the aim of Englishmen is
solely to extend their trade and their power, not to civilize the primitive peoples of those

lands or to provide food for their hungry poor. In India alone there are vast tracts of
unimproved land which great nobles will not allow the poor to cultivate.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 289

he would have given his statement some semblance of truth, for they
find the land much more useful to them as hunters than as landlords.
But prairie Indians have their own good reasons for being content to
live by hunting; as long as buffaloes are found in such large herds,
it will be impossible to cultivate fields; those animals will have to be
well-nigh exterminated before husbandry can be established as an
industry. Furthermore, when a tribe of people are satisfied with
the environment in which they live they are far more happy, under
any circumstances, than populations in civilized states where con-
tentment is unknown; for that reason we envy the savage.

I am inclined to believe, moreover, that in making our chief task
in life the civilization of mankind, we lessen our chances for happi-
ness. Nevertheless, we are forced by competition to work to that end ;
we are obliged to develop all our faculties, to improve our talents, in
order that we may be capable of meeting the demands of an existence,
the conditions of which are constantly becoming more difficult.

There is convincing proof that the Indian is not incapable of
improvement, as his enemies would have us believe: Captain Reid
admits as much. That Indian women work the land is not due to
racial coarseness or brutality but to the fact that the men regard
war as their chief aim in life. By reason of their many wars, more-
over, the number of women is in excess of the males. According to
the contrary argument, European nations, where country women
willingly work in the fields, must also be called cruel and brutal.
It is far better for women to till the land, which is no disgrace, than
to starve or beg alms. In the course of time, when this country be-
comes as densely populated and the land as much exhausted as in
European countries, North American women, I am firmly convinced,
will have to adapt themselves to the same order of things. Further-
more, there are Indian nations where men as well as women work in
the fields (See Ralph Lane: Bericht uber die Indianer bei Roanoke).1*

We find, indeed, a distinct difference in the development of Indian
nations, according as more densely populated communities increased
the necessities of existence.

Among the nations in the eastern part of the country there were
settled habitations, comfortable houses, fortifications, temples and,
according to recent investigations in Michigan, ancient copper mines
(the Mangoack in Roanoke worked in copper), while prairie Indians
used lead to fashion their ornaments—they employed only soft metals
in making ornaments. On the Mexican plateau Indian tribes lived
in communities even more densely populated; accordingly we find
there the organized state, and so marked an advance in handicrafts,
in art, in science, and in religion, that one can but wonder at the

13 Ralph Lane’s Account of the Indians of Roanoke.

290 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

number and variety of their accomplishments. One may readily as-
sume that those nations would have attained in time to a still higher
degree of civilization. In every instance, advance to the civilized
state requires time and is furthered by necessity. So we may con-
clude when prairie Indians can no longer satisfy the needs of their
existence as hunters, they will of their own accord resort to hus-
bandry just as the Arikara and Herantsa have done already.

We should consider, moreover, how long a time has been required
to civilize Germans and. Celts. How many thousands of years they
remained in the so-called Stone Age. How many thousand in the
Age of Bronze. Even today, what would be our condition without
the uplifting influences of the Christian religion, without our great
and extensive educational advantages? Even now, after nearly 2,000
years of progress and enlightenment, can one assert with truth that
all superstitious beliefs, all heathen observances have disappeared
from Europe?

Do not our wars, our revolutions, give rise daily to more horrible
deeds than occur among Indian tribes? Were not ancient Britons far
more barbarous than Indians? Did not the ancient Britons take
advantage of their own offspring to satisfy their lust?

When it is a question of the civilization of peoples one has to
reckon by centuries, not generations. I maintain that in time North
American Indians will make due progress. I maintain further that
the coming of Europeans hindered the Indians’ continued advance
in their slow development. The Aztecs are exterminated and shame
on the priests, evidences of their civilization for the most part
blotted out of existence. So-called Christians, for all their fanatical
zeal, have set so poor an example of the Christian code of morals,
and do still, that the Christian religion can but make an unfavorable
impression on the mind of the natural man. When all Christian
sects, almost without exception, war against one another with shock-
ing intolerance, of which are savages to become adherents? When
20 people are condemned to death as witches or unbelievers—hanged
on a charge of witchcraft? When 55 other persons are tortured in
order to extort a profession of faith, whereupon some worship before
the Cross, while others scoff? And how was it with the Moravians
and the Delawares? They were mistrusted and put down by their
heathen fellowmen as well as by their Christian brethren! Have
fur traders, as pioneers of civilization, ever shown the least concern
about moral standards?

Do they not know that among civilized Indians, who devote them-
selves to the cultivation of their lands, fur trading will cease? How
much do those daring officials on the borders care for the enlighten-
ment of Indians? In spite of sacred treaties, the Cherokee were
forced to abandon their well-tended fields and give up their lands.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 291

With all their improvements, which even Captain Reid must give
them credit for, we shall see how long they will be left in peace in
their new domain beyond the Mississippi.

As long as mutual ill-will and hate engendered by earlier con-
flicts is kept alive among Americans and Indians there is little hope
of a better state of things among the red skins. Who was first re-
sponsible for armed conflict and consequent hate, historical fact
makes indisputably clear; it is high time, therefore, that Americans
give some evidence of their being “the most enlightened people.” It
is time that they grant to the Indians the right to live. Once they
are allowed to live in tranquility, the Indians, we may be sure, will
adopt whatever advantages are offered them in civilization; then
moral and spiritual betterment will inevitably follow. But, first of
all, they must have that tranquility which comes with security and
peace of mind—then, a better example set for them by these senti-
mental Christians.

Laws are of little use, however, unless individuals are trained to
develop their human organism to best advantage; in other words,
the education of the individual has different tasks in view. First,
it is to provide training for the preservation of health; secondly,
training to fit the individual for earning his bread and, at the same
time, to make provision for the development of the mind, cultivation
of the feelings, and betterment of the soul. Science, art, and re-
ligion are the means to this end, for in pursuing these great subjects
the human individual is led in the right direction and capacitated
through the best development of his powers for the best accomplish-
ment of his life work; that is, to provide for his own needs by the
employment of his especial talents and to be of service to his
fellowman.

Now this particular instance is cited that astronomy among the
Aztec was much the same science as that developed by the Hebrews.
How could it be otherwise when the two nationalities inhabited the
same planet and contemplated the same sun, moon, and stars? How
was it possible for them to formulate two different planetary sys-
tems from a study of the same stars? Those crude peoples divided
the time into years according to snowfall, rainfall, or seasons of
harvest, and the year into months according to the full of the moon.

When they found, however, that such computations would no
longer suffice in a more complicated national organization, they be-
gan to regulate time by the rising and setting sun; consequently,
no matter how widely different peoples may be or how far removed
from one another, their computations with regard to the solar year
must be much the same, differing only, in fact, as to the manner in
which they dispose of the six hours left over.

292 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

In like manner the pyramidal form appears in different parts of
the world, because the pyramid affords the most stable base for the
greatest height. When all is said and done, our own church towers
are nothing but pyramidal. Though the Jews could hardly have
been unacquainted with the pyramids in Egypt, yet they never made
use of that form in their buildings. On the other hand, why are
not the Mexicans, whose teocallis are pyramidal in structure, de-
clared to be descendants of the Egyptians? Why are not the
Peruvians with their Cyclopaean masonry said to be descendants of
the Greeks?

As to the rest, I do not question the probable migration of tribes
from Asia or northern Europe to the American continent. I con-
tend only that such a migration was not necessary in order to estab-
lish either reasons for the population of the country or the civiliza-
tion of the American Nation, because, in due time, population and
education follow as a matter of course.

The great majority of native Americans are of the same type and
bear no resemblance to any race of the Old World. The few immi-
grants from foreign countries have been amalgamated, somehow or
other, with the native stock. Moreover, one must take into considera-
tion that there are also animals and plants that did not originate on
American soil but were likewise transplanted. Just as like plants
grow out of the ground in different quarters of the globe, according
to the character of the soil and the geographical situation, so must
animals that feed on the same vegetation and like animal substances
develop into the same species. Why should not the same be true of
humankind? Why should it not have been possible for the same
natural conditions that produced, in America as in the Old World,
the beaver, bison, stork, eagle, hog, wolf, fox, serpent, lizard, monkey,
butterfly, squirrel, hare, worm, fish, etc., have had their effect on the
American type of man? To be sure, the elephant, lion, camel, and
horse are not native to America, but that does not by any means
prove the type of primitive man peculiar to that land could not have
been produced there, especially since the monkey, which marks the
transition from animal to man, is there. Some plants native to
American soil and hitherto unknown in other countries are found
there also: the potato, tobacco, maize, banana, etc. In conclusion,
I must mention that, according to recent investigations, there have
been discovered, among antediluvian remains, skeletons both of
human beings and of horses which, so far as the natives are con-
cerned, give sufficient proof that they had their origin in the New
World.

February 4. Weather usually fine and warm. I was enabled to
sketch the interior of the fort from the southwest bastion. Should

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 293

such agreeable atmospheric conditions continue for any length of
time we may expect a slow, cold, or wet springtime, for as yet very
little snow has fallen. Smith came in to bring venison. The hunters
in the hayfield have already shot twenty-four deer and two elks.
They are feeling quite at ease, camping in two tents with their women
and eating all the choice portions of the game they kill. They are
glad to be where they have not the bourgeois continually directing
them.

February 5. Morgan had to take ox carts and pack horses to fetch
Mackenzie and his remaining stock of goods from his winter quar-
ters on the lower Bourbeuse. This warm weather has melted the
snow, and in consequence the river overflowed to such an extent
that the occupants of this winter trading post were beginning to
think they might have to be rescued from the roof. ‘Today there is
hardly anybody at the fort. The days begin to lengthen. Weather
continues warm.

February 8. Mackenzie is here with what remains of his stock
of goods and what furs and pelts he has accumulated in his barter
trade. His progress across the prairie, accompanied by armed foot
passengers, ox carts, pack horses, Indian women, ox drivers, and dogs
was, to say the least, original.

He brought me a stag’s head which I shall sketch. There are
already four tents, occupied by Assiniboin hangers-on, pitched near
the camping place of our hunters in the hayfield. The smell of meat
attracted them. They make themselves quite comfortable and look
on while our white men hunt and our outworn horses drag in meat
for them. So Smith has received instructions to keep no supplies
there with which to provide food for good-for-nothing Indians, but
to send what they do not need to the fort at once.

February 9. Four separate expeditions equipped and despatched:
Mackenzie had but arrived at the fort when he was sent off with three
ox carts laden with commodities for Bruyére; Morgan with his
workmen set out for the timber yard to get lumber ready to build
the new Indian lodge at the fort; Boneau and Valette were sent with
two dog sleds** loaded with maize also to Bruyére; and the fourth
traveled to the hayfield to bring up fresh supplies of meat. After
all these had been despatched, then commodities and robes brought
back by Mackenzie had to be itemized, entered on the books, and put
in their proper places.

February 10. This afternoon Le Gras brought news that we were
to expect the early arrival of Ours Fou and members of his band, the

141Tt is estimated that a dog, traveling at the rate of from 30 to 40 English miles a day,
can haul a load weighing 70 pounds, and can carry a load of 50 pounds. That the dog is

not physically constituted to serve as beast of burden or for hauling is a mistaken idea on
the part of “prevention of cruelty to animals” advocates.

294. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Gens des Filles, an Assiniboin band, for whom we were directed to
make ready a feast of fresh meat, mush, and sweet coffee. Only the
chief’s commands. As the dark-skinned Indians came forward in
the glittering sunlight across the smooth surface of the frozen river,
some on horseback, others on foot, accompanied by women and num-
bers of children, pack horses, and laden dogs, they formed a most
picturesque cavalcade. But, as they failed to bring robes for ex-
change, nothing came of their bidding us prepare a feast.

All appurtenances to flat painting have been put in order and all
remaining paints that were left on the floor in the store have been
put away, indicating that my duties of official painter are at an end.

February 11. “Mad Bear’s” band occupy only 11 tents. Bear
would like to sit for his portrait but fears to take such risk, inas-
much as Natoh is dead and, though Mr. Denig’s thumb has healed,
it is a strange coincidence that such affliction should have come upon
him just at that time.

Furthermore, the coincidence was promptly misinterpreted by
womankind at the fort. To be sure, “Mad Bear” declares he is not
so foolish as to think my paintings exert a perilous influence but
at the same time he has to confess that his people believe they do.
Instead of painting his likeness I drew for him the picture of a
turtle on a piece of wood. Then Mackenzie carved it out and filled it
with lead. Now the Chief wears this leaden turtle around his neck
for a charm—his “medicine.” He dreamed of a turtle. His earlier
“medicine” had failed to ward off the death of many relatives, so he
wore it no longer. If this charm proves more efficacious he can
then say whether it brings good luck.

February 12. In the Indian encampment just without the fort
there was a fight today between two wives of one husband as to
which of them was the owner of a horse. When the man saw his
Wives seizing each other by the hair he took bow and arrow and
shot the unoffending nag through the heart. Then he gave the woman
who was in the wrong a good sound thrashing. He would have
been much more sensible if he had inflicted the beating without sacri-
ficing the horse—all the more as it was the only one he possessed,
L’Ours Fou is much cast down because the Assiniboin band north
of us refuses to conclude a peace with the Blackfeet Tribe. Now that
he is supreme chief, appointed by the United States, he thinks the
Assiniboin should obey him. But those wild bands, having no con-
ception of the power and extent of the United States, are not in-
clined as yet to change their condition. His appointment to the
rank of supreme chief is, moreover, contrary to their wishes, in
violation of their right of free choice, an infringement of their lib-
erties, and in contravention of their ancient customs. As Ours Fou

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 295

can unite under his leadership only the smallest of the Assiniboin
bands, his appointment as supreme chief meets with all the more
opposition.

Bear’s plan is, first of all, to influence his people to establish a
village as the Herantsa have done and to plant acres of corn. But
Assiniboin are an idle people, and easily distinguished from the
proud, gorgeously bedecked Absaroka and Sioux by their indifference
to appearances. So far as clothes are concerned, the Assiniboin
would just as soon have his old worn robe as a woolen blanket. He
cares only for the possession of horses; he is too poverty stricken
to purchase the beasts, so he has to find those he can steal; in other
words, he must have an enemy. In the event that the Assiniboin
should consent to stop their wars against the Blackfeet, the Crows
would necessarily conclude a like peace, for the latter are by no
means powerful enough alone to hold at bay the great Blackfeet
Tribe.

Without war an Indian is no longer an Indian. War is his means
of educating himself. Success in war is his supreme aim in life.
By nature imperious and full of energy, he finds in martial exploits
his only chance to win distinction. In renouncing war he gives up
his chief life purpose; he is forced to rearrange the plan of his
whole existence.

No one, whether good or bad, stupid or clever, practical or un-
businesslike, can go through life without some object in view. That
is true of individual people, to say nothing of entire nations. If
one gives up an aim, to the accomplishment of which he has directed
his best energies, then he has to replace that aim with some other.
Now an Indian, observing the manner of life among highly educated
white so-called Christians, finds little that invites him to change his
lot. White men have, it is true, many amazing contrivances, make
use of many tools and implements of service to them, but, on the other
hand, they are harassed throughout their entire life with care and
laborious toil in their efforts to supply the multitude of things they
require. ‘They are never left in peace either day or night, but work
hard their whole life for their daily bread without ever feeling even
then secure from hunger and want; for their many “improvements”
by no means keep pace with the ever-increasing demands of a steadily
increasing population. To an Indian, therefore, the lot of white men
in civilized nations, notwithstanding their accumulation of knowl-
edge, is no better than the simple existence of his own race, which
enables him to be content with little. White men talk a deal of
twaddle about Christianity, morality, sobriety, and honest dealing,
and in the meantime serve Mammon rather than God. Above all
things else, white people prefer money; money, the value of which

816343720

296 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Indians know nothing about, look upon as of no value in itself, yet the
white man’s curse.

Indians are often taxed with being incapable of improvement, ob-
stinate in their adherence to traditional customs and superstitious
beliefs, etc. Why? Because they are not quick to imitate the bad
example set for them by white people? Because they do not subject
themselves slavishly to a manner of dress that changes at least twice
every year, only in rare instances gives evidence of good taste but
most often of tomfoolery and discomfort instead? Because they re-
fuse to accept a belief which the whites uphold neither in word nor
in deed, but, on the contrary, in defiance of their moral teaching,
their printed, too often distorted Scriptural passages, play the hypo-
crite, lie, steal, and murder? Let him who dares assert that Indians
are not capable of being instructed first ask himself whether he
affords the redskins a good example of true Christian, noble friend,
industrious, loyal husband, good father; whether a savage of prac-
tical mind may not recognize what is preached as only fine-spun
theories, when his newly acquired instructor and counselor falls so
far short in actual observance of his creed, when, notwithstanding
the white man’s never-ending toil, not infrequently want and even
famine prevails among his race. That oft-heard vindication, on the
part of the preacher, that the Word of God is nevertheless true and
worthy of belief, though uttered by a man in a state of sin, is in
itself not wrong.

But, unless such a speaker believes the Word of God himself, makes
every possible effort to conduct himself accordingly, shows in his own
way of life that it is possible to live in conformity with Christian
teaching, that he is full of enthusiasm for Christian living; in other
words, if he does not manifest by his own example the intrinsic value
of Christianity, the necessity, and above all, the possibility of con-
ducting himself as a Christian in daily intercourse, he may rest
assured his preaching will make no lasting impression. When his
life is out of accord with his preaching, what hypocrisy. What a
farce.

Christian ethics is not a variable moral code subject to momentary
change but, on the contrary, an absolute standard of conduct, a posi-
tive condition upon which the existence of human societies, 1. e.,
nations, depend. Unless founded upon those principles of right living
given first to man by Moses on the Tablets of Stone, then broadened
and perfected by Jesus, no State can endure. If it were only for that
reason, those Commandments would have to be accepted by us as
sacred, not because they are said to have been delivered to Moses
direct from God, but for the reason that they are the foundation
upon which all enduring lawmaking rests and without which we
should live in a state of confusion worse confounded. “As ye would

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KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 297

that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise” is the founda-
tion principle of every State in any degree civilized, whether Chris-
tian or heathen.

To inspire the Indian with a desire to live as a Christian one must
not rely solely on preaching the Gospel but must make the savage
realize, by personal example and by instituting a better order of
things, the practical advantages of Christianity.

Just as the stability of a house depends upon its firm base, so the
existence of nations, whether small or great, depends upon the prin-
ciples upon which they are founded, that is, their supreme end and
aim. If white men preach peace to Indians whose chief passion is
for war, whose existence depends in large measure upon the spoils
of war, then white men must prove to the savages that by living in
harmony with one another they will have a happier life, that they
can live in peace and yet never suffer want, never be bored with the
dull monotony of their existence; that, on the contrary, they will find
better means of winning distinction by employing themselves in other
activities. And, furthermore, white races must stop waging wars on
their own part. Ecclesiastics preach the doctrine of peace and broth-
erly love, yet they more than other men have caused much blood to be
shed. I cannot too often repeat that the unworthy examples set by
so-called Christians are more to be blamed than anything else for the
Indians’ slow progress in civilization; the vessel in which inspiriting
influences of culture are offered them is far too much besmeared to be
inviting. It is unfortunate that the missionary is rarely the first
Christian to acquaint Indians with the white race. The trader almost
always precedes the priest, conducts his business to his own advan-
tage, unconcerned as to immoral tendencies inherent in his traffic,
indifferent as to the passion for display, the intemperance and avarice,
that he excites, intensifies, and never suffers to grow less.

Long before the missionary comes to sow his good seed, tares al-
ready sown have taken root and sprouted; the man of God finds his
field full of weeds.

I have nothing to bring forward against the fur traders; they are
no worse than other American tradespeople. It just so happens that
their business interests run counter to the civilizing of Indians; in
other words, their traffic with the redskins must inevitably cease
when the latter become civilized people. On the other hand, I find
not much to be commended among the missionaries, at least among
those who do nothing but preach and upset the present order without
inspiring the savages to attempt better things. If one wishes to
clear a field of weeds one must sow seeds in good soil that they may
bear fruit and crowd out the weeds by leaving them no ground in
which to grow.

298 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 115

We Europeans have developed from barbarous tribes. Our wars
have not yet ceased. Though for more than a thousand years we
have been Christians, or at least claimed to be, yet who can claim that
European nations follow Christian doctrine in their dealings with
one another? If we, avowed Christians, have not progressed thus
far in love for our fellow man in a thousand years how can we expect
Indians to attain to so lofty a plane within a generation?

I will mention just one instance of those seemingly trivial circum-
stances that prove such difficult obstacles for missionaries to overcome
in their noble endeavors: Mr. Kinesey (?), a Protestant missionary
to the Omaha, Oto, and Pawnee, told me, in Belle Vue, that the
Omaha wished to give up cultivating their fields, because crops had
failed for 2 years in succession; the Good Spirit, they thought,
favored them no longer and refused to keep His promises.

Jesuits do not forbid Christian Indians entering upon defensive
warfare; they forbid their being aggressors in war. The Jesuits are
also shrewd in winning savages by impressing them with outward
form or semblance.

February 18. Weather so warm today that we could dispense
with our open fires and, revel in the genial sunshine. If this con-
tinues my hopes of hunting buffaloes, antelopes, and stags on snow-
shoes will not be realized. As those animals, with their thin legs
and sharp hoofs, bound over the snow, they sink so deep into the
drifts upon making a leap that they can be easily overtaken on snow-
shoes, and with no trouble at all by swift hounds.

It is an easy matter, therefore, for wolves to catch the more delicate
hinds and antelopes in the deep snow. The wolf is not more swift in
pursuit, but can hold out longer. On the whole, he is more sly than
the fox, though the latter is the universally accepted symbol of trick-
ery and cunning. Wolves in this region, though just as wild and
strong as those in Europe, are not so dangerous, because they are
never so ravenously hungry. Isolated wolves are frequently seen on
the prairie or in the dense forests but never in gangs except when
they smell blood and come together mob fashion in pursuit of a
wounded animal or to devour the carcass of one just slain.

Their speech is a howl, which varies according to the motive that
actuates the beast. When the wolf is hungry or gets the scent of
something he dares not tackle he sends forth a prolonged, dismal
howl]; when he is in pursuit of wild beasts a much more quick, angry
note that is yet not the same as the yelp of a dog. Perhaps I might
more clearly indicate the difference in sound by saying that wolves
use head tones only, no chest tones. By brisk, insistent howls they in-
vite fresh wolves continually to aid in the pursuit; constantly call in
new forces. When those that first began the chase become tired and
out of breath they lie down to rest until their victim comes back that

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 299

way, for at every turn the quarry pursued finds enemies anew, called
thither by the howling of its pursuers, and finally driven back again
to its pasture ground, falls exhausted into the jaws of the beasts
waiting there.

The prairie wolf is neither so large nor so strong as other wolves,
has a flat forehead and is usually yellow, striped with black on his
back, mixed with white on his under parts. Inasmuch as this wolf
is a separate species, being a cross between the wolf and different
varieties of fox, yet never herds with any of those animals or mates
with them, I am inclined all the more to believe that various breeds
of dogs may have been originally so derived.

February 22. For a week there has been nothing new to record.
Weather continues fine. Time passes quickly. My studies increase in
number, because I make a sketch of every little thing that I shall use
later on in paintings representative of life in this region. For in-
stance, I made a drawing today of that stuffed head of a Big Horn or
Rocky Mountain sheep. The female has horns like a chamois; the
buck has horns like a ram. Instead of wool, however, his coat is of
coarse dun-colored hair; white on his under parts.

Audubon and Bachmann state, with regard to the geographical
distribution of the Big Horn, that this species is not found on Hudson
Bay or east of the Rocky Mountains. In that statement Audubon
contradicts himself, because he relates earlier how he saw 22 Rocky
Mountain sheep at the mouth of the Yellowstone and declares that
those animals choose for their pastures the mauvaises terres. On my
return journey down the Missouri, Cadotte, on the same boat with me,
shot one of those sheep in a herd ranging even farther southeastward.
Audubon seems not to have known our wild goat, for, in his account
of the Big Horn, he refers to only four varieties of that species, 1. e.,
the mouflon, found in the mountains and on the steppes of Northern
Asia; another that is native to Egypt; another in America; then he
mentions, on page 223, the ibex and chamois of the Alps (or did this
originate with Bachmann? Or did he, perhaps, not include the stein-
bok as our European scientists do?). That the males make use of
their horns to protect themselves in falling or that their horns could
serve at best as a protection to their skulls upon an unexpected impact
with bowlder or rock, I do not believe. A fall on the head, even when
calculated, causes dangerous concussion of the brain; as a matter of
course, the much more perilous tumble heels over head would result
in more serious shock. Hunters are quite ready to credit any story
whatsoever as to the uses which those large horns serve.

Packinaud would rather play poker with common laborers than
learn English. I have given him up. That American card, game
called poker enables only the rich to win, i. e., those who can always

300 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

put up a higher stake irrespective of the hand they hold. Though
the poorer man may have the higher cards, even three aces, three
kings, etc., and stakes everything that he possesses on the game, his
opponent wins, notwithstanding, if he puts up a still higher stake
than the man of less means. As no money is in circulation here the
gamesters stake their credit at the store; they gamble their wages
or salaries. To keep the score they use grains of corn.

Two Cree Indians brought more than 100 robes, for which they
received a better price than is usually paid. This was due, in reality,
to the fact that they were heretofore customers of the opposition.
The Sioux have the intention to keep the Treaty of Horse Shoe
Creek; at least, they are willing to try and keep it for 1 year, so
as to find out whether they derive any benefits from it or whether
it is nothing more than empty promises—white men’s lies.

They have about 80 tents pitched on this side of Fort Clarke. They
were visited by Assiniboin who presented 12 horses, laid stress on
their ancient relationship and insisted upon the combined tribes
using the same speech. Assiniboin, occupying 120 tents, are on a
visit to the Herantsa; most probably, to beg corn. L’Ours Fou has
already selected a site for his future village, in the vicinity of this
fort as a matter of course, and not too far but that he can get the
smell of sweet coffee and warm bread. He understands perfectly
well that sooner or later he can depend no longer on hunting for a
livelihood, but he assumes that, as chief, he himself is entitled to an
annual supply of coffee, sugar, and meal at the expense of Uncle
Sam, especially since to work is beneath his dignity. Why, of course,
molasses will be provided him: He dreams every night of molasses.
I am of the opinion that the treacle he so much likes and dreams
about is going to displace in his esteem the turtle he wears about his
neck. L’Ours Fou is friendly with me. Every time he comes to
the fort he sleeps in my room; he talks about his plan to voyage
down the river with Mr. Culbertson in the spring and return on
the company’s steamboat, bringing back with him, to distribute
among his people, all the wealth of possessions promised by Uncle
Sam.

Woe be unto the white population if that promise is not kept. If
representatives of the United States Government are again guilty of
false statement their double dealing will have become proverbial
among nations in this region also.

Not long ago L’Ours Fou was sleeping as usual in my room. He
waked up every now and then during the night, mended the fire,
teased the fox, smoked his pipe, and would jab me in the ribs with
the pipestem to wake me, so that I might chat with him. To enter-
tain me he would teach me words in his native tongue. For example,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 301

“nuspeh”, which means “ax”; “kukusch”,® which means “swine.”
He had great fun teaching me the last-named word. To make me
understand what animal was meant he grunted in such perfect imi-
tation of a hog that I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks.
Now he always says: “Kukusch, ch, ch.”

February 26. Mr. Denig is Swedenborgian and at the same time
he isa Freemason. He mentioned to me that it would be of great
advantage on my travels if I were a Freemason. I am too slightly
acquainted with the order to judge them, but what I do know is
nothing laudable. Tobe sure, they lend a hand where they can; but
they assist their own at the expense of those who are not Free-
masons, as I have learned from experience. I like the Odd Fellows
in the United States much better. They make less parade of their
benevolence, have no secrets except their recognition signs, and no
distinction in rank, such as embroidered marshals, masters, and
commoners.

While I was sketching this afternoon the Sioux visited me. He
brought two interesting drawings. He was not satisfied with my
work; he could do better. Forthwith, I supplied him with drawing
paper. First he made a drawing of his “coup.” Then, with ink, he
drew a buffalo, very well indeed for a savage. In their drawings
Indians attempt to make especially prominent some outstanding dis-
tinguishing feature. For instance, in drawing the figure of a man
they stress not his form but something distinctive in his dress that
indicates his rank; hence they represent the human form with far less
accuracy than they draw animals. Among the Indians, their man-
ner of representing the form of man has remained so much the same
for thousands of years that they look upon their accepted form as
historically sacrosanct, much as we regard drawings in heraldry.
We must take into consideration, moreover, that the human form is
not represented in the same manner by all nations; on the contrary,
each nation has its own conventional manner. To prove this, one has
only to examine the different drawings of a man on horseback. In
one the man has no legs at all; in another both legs are on that side
of the horse which is in view; in still another both legs are on the
other side of the horse. My manner of representing a rider was,
therefore, not at all satisfactory to the Sioux.

“But, you see,” said he “a man has two legs.” That the other limb
was concealed by the horse’s body was not the question.

I annoyed him not a little in the end by my remark that among
our people only women ride horseback as he represented riders in his
drawings.

15 French ‘“cochon.”

302 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

February 29. After several chilly, lonely days I have once more
a change of conditions in my room. L’Ours Fou, his daughter, and
two of his grandchildren are going to share my quarters with me
until the chief departs with Mr. Culbertson for St. Louis. For the
time being I welcome their company; the hours pass so slowly just
now, since there is nothing to sketch, nothing to interest me. During
these last few days we have had a recurrence of such extremely cold
weather that there is no possibility of my being able to paint, how-
ever ardent my zeal. Our only occupation at the moment is the
storing of ice in the ice house. Some of the men cut out thick
blocks of ice from the river and bring them up the river bank, others
load them, a third drives the cart, and I have to count the number
of loads delivered at the ice house and supervise the packing of the
blocks. In summer ice is indispensable for preserving fresh meat
and for cooling the tepid drinking water brought from the river.

Today Bear’s half-starved Assiniboin returned at last to the lower
Bourbeuse. They would have liked to be supplied with food and,
in that case, they would have felt quite at ease. Not a man in the
camp had the least idea of going out hunting; they kept hoping that
meat would be offered them from our stores of provisions, which we
purchased from them last summer.

Bear himself is much more concerned about filling his own stom-
ach than he is about inspiring his tribesmen by his own good exam-
ple to be up and doing. Their emaciated dogs, with backs sharply
arched and tails between their legs, watched every door, every move-
ment made, hoping for a chance to steal something to eat. Nothing
was safe; even pieces of leather that they could snatch were ac-
ceptable to them. Since I have the duty to distribute meat to the
various employees, | was forced into a constant scuffle with those
beasts. If I went toward the door of the meat house I was imme-
diately surrounded. I dared not leave the door open for an instant.
Old Indian women were no better. ‘They themselves would have
suffered a beating for a piece of meat. We felt obliged to pen up all
the pigs and calves; otherwise much fine skill might have been put
to the test for the sake of a goodly portion of fresh veal or pork.
The Assiniboin complained of our hardness of heart, especially
mine. But they should consider that the meat does not belong to
me, and, furthermore, that their need is a result of their own laziness.
They were not employed here. They have to be made to work;
sluggards deserve neither sympathy nor assistance. On the other
hand, those who wish employment should never be at a loss for
something to do, should never be in need of food.

For the sake of providing more space in my room for my guests
I packed my collections. Now I am ready to start on a journey at

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 303

a moment’s notice. I hope the three girls will bring in enough wood,
so that we may keep ourselves comfortably warm.

I am glad to have some variation from the employment of every
day; life at this fort has become more and more a dull routine, as
less that is new or novel has presented itself for my study. There
remain yet 4 months to live through before the steamer arrives. But
am I certain of going to St. Louis? Is it not probable that Mr. Kipp
may find employment for me still 1 year more? I am at his service;
there are all sorts of things I should like to study at the Herantsa
village. Even though I might not dare to make sketches except in
secret, I could devote all the more time to collecting facts concerning
Indian legend and tradition, religious belief, social organization,
etc. To serve under Pierre Gareau, an unreasonable, self-conceited
half-breed, would be most unpleasant. The truth is, I am totally
unaccustomed to taking directions from anybody. Still, to accom-
plish my purpose I can accommodate myself to circumstances, as I
have already submitted to greater humiliations. At all events, either
here or at Fort Berthold I must get a chance to attend the hunt
and take part in everything just as the others do. Wherever it may
be, whatever it may cost, I must hunt the stag, the elk, perhaps
the bear.

March 1. The Blackfeet call themselves Siksigisqu, i. e., Siksika.

March 2. The Queen of Sheba, as Morgan and I designate Bear’s
daughter, is gradually overcoming her shyness, or rather her high-
bred reserve, in my presence.

She received from Mr. Denig a calico dress; accordingly she took
off her soiled black mourning costume of dressed doeskin, exchanged
her buffalo robe for a blanket, indigo blue in color, and no longer
remains always crouched behind her bed curtains. Mad Bear asked
Mr. Denig beforehand whether his daughter was in danger of being
annoyed by me. Mr. Denig assured him of the contrary, saying that
I was absorbed in other matters. Besides, his daughter is old enough
to know how to conduct herself properly and, if need be, to defend
herself. The old chief would be pleased, really, to have his beautiful
daughter married to a white man who is in a position to keep him
well stocked with coffee, meal, and molasses—yea, but that would
be a joy dearly bought. His daughter would have to be more richly
endowed in mind and heart as well as in beauty of form and feature
to induce a man to burden himself with a pauper family of high
rank. During the first few days the dark-skinned princess sat behind
the curtains, as if she were possessed of beauty too rare to be exposed
to profane gaze, but since she sees that I pay no especial attention
to her, that I have no designs upon her, she is moved to descend from
her throne of buffalo hides and take charge of household affairs at

304 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

our warm fireside. She has been once married to a young brave who
was killed in an Indian fray. In truth the young widow is not dis-
tinguished for personal loveliness; she has, it is true, a finely de-
veloped figure, beautiful, pensive eyes, splendid teeth, small hands.
Between her eyebrows are tattoo marks, forming a half moon.

It is well that my thoughts are absorbed, at the moment, in my
studies; otherwise this association with an attractive, unguarded
young widow might result quite differently. As all our traders are
now provided with wives and as Morgan and I intend to leave in the
spring this young widow has little prospect of being married to any
man here, the less so as both Mr. Denig and Mackenzie made pro-
posals earlier that were rejected by her father, because at that time
he expected a far greater number of gifts than those men offered.
Times have changed.

Throughout the whole world wives are easy enough to win but
difficult and expensive to keep. At any and all places on this earth
opportunities to marry are offered one. As for me, just now marriage
would not be favorable to the accomplishment of the purpose I have
in view. I do not believe that even my ideal of feminine loveliness,
amiability, and virtue combined could induce me to sacrifice the chief
aim for which I strive in life. Now, Schitschaka is far from being
my ideal; she is not to be compared with Witthae.

No doubt Matoh Mito and Schitschaka will soon find this place dull
enough; there is nothing to amuse them, and our fare is neither rich
nor abundant. We drink coffee without sugar and eat bread made
without lard.

March 4. Le Gras brought the news from Fort Berthold that a
courier had arrived there from Fort Pierre. As that is so unusual an
occurrence at this time of year Mr. Denig has high hopes that the
opposition is crushed.

What a victory! Whatatriumph! But can it be true? This com-
pany has already put down many competitors or else bought them
out. They are still steadily extending their trade and increasing in
wealth even in their own midst. The opposition, whom we designate
as “Dobies,” were at an earlier period employees of this company.
Owing to some disagreement they withdrew and combined to form a
new firm. It seems that their earlier friendship, relationship in fact
(the two Picottes), serves to make these two companies all the more
bitter and jaundiced in their attitude toward each other. Indians
know full well that when there is no competition they are obliged to
pay much more dearly for what they buy; so they have good and just
reasons for doing what they can to keep competition alive. As to this
report, it seems to me, if Primeau, Harvey & Co. have suspended pay-
ments, they have in mind only a change of firm, for Campbell of St.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 305

Louis, their principal creditor, who advances their goods, would not
allow the business to go to ruin.

March 6. I have just had the pleasant but most unexpected news
that I may go with Robert Campbell to the horse camp tomorrow.
What glad tidings! There I can sketch and hunt to my heart’s con-
tent; the only duty imposed is that I am to take charge of the camp
when Morgan is absent. He supersedes Smith, because the latter fed
too many Indians; owing to his forbearance, several tents were occu-
pied with redskins all the time.

When we first get there I can be all the more free to roam about
or follow the chase, because my friend is not just now fit for much
hunting and will stay in camp. What unexpected good fortune!
How my heart thrills!) Just what I most ardently desired, just what
IT am most urgently in need of to accomplish my aims is now awaiting
me. Adieu, Fort Union!

March 8. Horse camp, 12 miles from Fort Union. Morgan and I
left the fort day before yesterday, with our bedding loaded on an
ox sled driven by Tetreaux. The sky was clear. There was little
snow. A sharp, cold wind was blowing, but our blood was warm.
As we were supposed to be a kind of escort accompanying the sled
we had to adapt our gait to that of the oxen. Five dogs were leap-
ing joyously about us. When the hayfield was flooded, upon the over-
flow of the Yellowstone, Smith had removed his camp to the forest;
so we had to go a little out of our way at that point, in order to take
along enough hay for the oxen overnight. We were proceeding across
the marsh when Morgan caught sight of a wolf in the distance and
instantly gave his dogs the signal; away went the hounds in full
cry, raising a whirlwind of flying snow in their wake. We followed
full tilt to see the fun. The young greyhound was in the lead, eager
to win his spurs. Then came Badger, Castor, and Bull. As soon as
Kadosch got scent of the wolf’s track he lagged behind. The grey-
hound soon overtook his quarry and was instantly bitten on the nose;
whereupon Badger seized the wolf by the leg. Bull and Castor
caught him by the throat and killed him.

It was only a prairie wolf. In spite of the terrible cold Morgan
tarried long enough to flay the beast. While he was engaged with
that the dogs found another wolf and set out at once in pursuit.
We called them back, however, because we dared not stray too far
from our course; so they lost that trace. When we came to the hay-
field, where Tetreaux was already setting to work, we found the
flooded bottom land frozen over; the water was about a foot deep
and covered with a crust of ice not thick enough to bear our weight;
consequently, at every step we broke through. For the distance of
a mile we had to go forward, sinking through the ice crust into the

306 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

water at every stride, a most fatiguing progress. So we changed
our course and blazed another trail.

Four miles farther on we found Smith’s camp. It was situated.
on this side the bois peinture (“painted tree”), at the foot of a steep
slope—probably river shore in prehistoric times—at the edge of a
forest below the high prairie; therefore, though well protected from
the wind, our situation afforded no view at all of the plateau where
the horses were to graze. Morgan decided at once to transfer the
camp to another spot, so we did not pitch the tent we brought with
us but laid it on the ground along with our bedding, brought dry
wood, put together a good big pile of it and kindled a crackling fire.
We found quantities of meat on a scaffold; Smith had concerned
himself little about sending it to the fort.

Nearby on the height above we found traces of several tents but
recently removed, the occupants of which, too indolent to hunt on
their own account, had lived entirely on food brought in by our
huntsmen. We ate our supper with the old Spanish horse guard,
then sat down beside our dogs before the blazing, crackling fire, the
sparks from which swam high up among the trees. How tall the
dark tree trunks seemed in the gloom of the forest! How glorious
to smoke my pipe in that romantic place! What a sudden change
of scene. What flowing fancies filled my brain, of hunts I was to
follow, of studies I was to make, of pictures I was to paint! How
could I ever have been able to sleep! The others disturbed us very
little with talk; the fact that we had come to relieve Smith of his
post, to put a restraint on Cadotte’s and Pierre’s women, to buy sugar
from the opposition in exchange for deerskins, to prevent Indians
from consuming meat brought in by our hunters, to spur the Platte-
man on to a better use of the powder and lead he borrowed, gave
occasion to each for reflections more or less displeasing. Morgan was
to put things in order and, inasmuch as he knew no French and the
hunters and metifs knew no English, I was to serve as his interpreter
as well as assistant.

Yesterday (Sunday) we transferred our camp to the bank of the
ice-bound Missouri. We pitched our tents in a beautiful spot that
affords an outlook over the hills, the prairie where our drove of
36 horses and mules is to graze, and a far-reaching view of the river.

We found there quantities of dry wood and brought pure river
water from a hole in the ice. When we reached our chosen location
each selected the place where he wished to pitch his tent and cleared
therefrom the snow and underbrush. While the women busied them-
selves dragging in their household effects some of the men cut down
dead trees and others got ready the tent poles.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 307

As soon as ground was cleared for a tent, pieces of bark were laid
all around the place where the fire was to be built, so that the
apischimos (raw buffalo hides) or whatever was used for bedding
would not lie directly upon the wet earth. The size of the tent was
determined by the number of occupants; accordingly each required
a larger or smaller amount of bark. To construct a tent three or
four poles were bound together at the ends, then set up to form the
first framework; their lower ends were extended as far apart as the
diameter of the tent was intended to be. In the spaces between them
other poles were added until a circular framework was formed.
Then the tent cloth, made of several dressed skins sewed together,
cowhides from which the hair had been removed, was bound fast
by its upper edges to another tent pole which was erected inside the
framework and fitted in at the top where the other poles join. This
awning was then pulled over the poles and fastened together with
wooden pins or cords, an opening having been left at the top for the
egress of smoke and at the bottom for entrance to the tent.

Along its lower edge incisions were made through which wooden
pins were driven into the ground to hold the tent cloth down. The
two flaps at the top were sewed together like a pocket and weighted
down by means of long, slender rods to prevent their being blown
about by the wind in such a way as to drive the smoke back into the
tent. This pocket and ends of tent poles left uncovered were fre-
quently used by Indians to display their decorations and ornaments.
An animal skin stretched between two staves was hung before the
lower opening that served for door, a most uncomfortable arrange-
ment; one had to bend almost double to crawl through under the
pelt. As the wind was blowing violently and the ground too solidly
_ frozen to permit our putting much faith in the wooden pins we had

driven down, we secured the awning further by weighting it with
heavy boughs, even sections of tree stems, in order to hold it fast to
the ground. As a further precaution we heaped up snow all around,
so as to ward off the wind as much as we could. Our tents were then
ready, so far as the exterior was concerned. On the inside we spread
our beds over against the fireplace; we put up two posts nearby that
were to serve for cupboard; higher up, about 5 or 6 feet from the
ground, we extended a thick beam straight across the fireplace, made
each end secure to a tent pole, and suspended from this another
smaller one with a hole in the middle over which we set our
kettle. Opposite the entrance we deposited our stores of meat.

From now on the hunters are required to deliver to us all the game
they kill; we in turn distribute the rations due. Every hunter, as
a matter of course, is entitled to certain amounts that belong to him

308 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

by right, according to their accepted laws of the chase; for instance,
the head of the animal killed, the heart, stomach, stone, unborn
calves, ete.

Morgan and I together with five dogs occupy our tent. The
Spaniard, Joe Dolores, his Mandan woman, and Belhumeur live in
the one next to ours. In the third Cadotte and his Assiniboin woman
live with two Assiniboin families; in the fourth the half-breed, An-
toine La Pierre, with his family. Our company is made up of people
differing widely as to race and lineage.

Joe had a mind to impress me at once, today, with his courage.
Though he is only horse guard, he wished me to believe that he is
just as experienced in hunting and setting traps as any other man.
He succeeded no better in convincing me this time, however, than
when he rushed into the fort just after my arrival there with Bel-
langé, and shouted “Blackfeet.”

Today’s bear hunt was all false alarm, I am sorry to say. We
found, it is true, in the depths of the forest on the other side of the
frozen Missouri, a great hole made by the uprooting of a tree. The
mouth of this den was half covered with snow. I fired one load
from my double-barreled gun into it but unearthed no bear, either
vigilant or sleeping, black or grizzly; at least we saw no evidences
of anything astir.

But suppose an old son of a gun had rushed out to attack us, is it
likely that we should have given him a mortal wound forthwith? We
stood there ready to brave the worst.

To compensate ourselves for not having fallen victim to bruin’s
paws, as our foolhardy act deserved, we followed quite fresh deer
tracks that we discovered on our way home. After having followed
the deer for a long time as noiselessly as we could along a course
full of twists and turns we were startled by two white-tailed hinds
springing out of their retreat just in front of us and taking them-
selves off with mad leaps over shrubs and fallen trees. We fired in-
stantly, but of course without result. Joe ran on after them, but I
crossed the river and came back to our tent, opening a way for myself
with great difficulty through brambles and grapevine stems.

Naturally, Smith is not particularly pleased about his removal from
command at thiscamp. He is not permitted now to go hunting when-
ever he likes. He must take off only the hides of the beasts he kills
and keep only those portions of meat to which the hunter is entitled,
leaving the rest for Indians or wolves. Besides, he must now go
hunting on foot, so as to spare the horses; he has to hunt every day,
moreover, unless weather conditions are altogether unfavorable. But
I cannot help being grateful for his negligence, since for that reason
I am here.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 309

March 9 (2). I went this morning to the slope, where is the bois
peinture (“painted tree”), to examine a trap that Joe set. I found
therein only a magpie (common magpie, Pica melanolenca Audu-
bon). Made a sketch of the tree.

It is a large cottonwood, on the trunk near the foot of which an
Indian cut away the bark and, on the bare wood, sketched different
figures in vermilion and chrome yellow. As the tree stands near the
trail, people passing that way have added various other figures in
charcoal, verifying the proverb “A wall is a fool’s writing paper.”
The original drawing of a sun, a hand, an enclosure, and the forms of
different animals were meant to record, so it seems to me, adventures
on a hunt that the redskin who made the sketch experienced during
one sun (day) in this forest.

March 14, Sunday. Clear weather. Sunshine quite warm wherever
the abominably cold northwest wind does not penetrate. At our
camp things go on as usual. Because he is unfit for active duty
Morgan has to take charge of the tent, so I have better opportunity
to wander about with the hunters than to sketch or write. Besides,
I have covered nearly all the pages of my sketchbook on both sides,
so I have to guard against making superfluous drawings, especially
when so much of great importance may occur. We have killed 16
elks and 10 deer and dispatched the meat to the fort. Though hunters
have turned this region to good account already, they enable us to
deliver more meat to the fort now than was sent there earlier. They
are no longer allowed to slay the beasts for the sake of their hides
only (hides belong to the hunter), but are required to bring the meat
here on pack horses.

Hunters are not paid salaries and provided with guns and ammu-
nition merely to go hunting for love of the sport, but they are em-
ployed to hunt, in order that business at the fort may derive a
profit therefrom. So Morgan has appointed certain days on which
the hunters always go out to shoot the game and others on which
they bring in the spoils. I am invariably on hand on such occa-
sions and on the lookout for picturesque landscapes, views, etc. To
secure the slaughtered animals from wolves, hunters hang the
carcasses as high as they can on limbs of a tree or else cover the meat
with the hide of the animal in such a way as to prevent the smell of it
from reaching wolves within 24 hours. To verify their right of
possession, in the event other Indians find the game, hunters hang on
a pole or stake set up nearby some article of their clothing or equip-
ment. To drive away wolves or ravens that may approach his booty
a hunter will sometimes inflate bladders taken from the slain animals
and attach them to the stake or pole where their movements in the
wind will frighten the vultures or prowling beasts. To the same

310 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

end, he is said to strew gunpowder about the place where the meat
is left.

If we fail to find sufficient game here to supply the fort with meat
we shall remove our camp to a region on the other side of the
Yellowstone, where, on account of frequent forays into that neigh-
borhood by hostile Blackfeet, little hunting has been done.

We should have the disadvantage there of being obliged to take
the pack horses across two rivers, not expedient except at this time
of the year, when the ice is firm. Inasmuch as we can be all the
more easily dispensed with when Bruyére and his men return to the
fort this horse camp is likely to be maintained for some time yet.
But Morgan wishes to go with Mr. Culbertson to St. Louis next
month, so that he may make a visit to his Scottish homeland during
the summer, when he is free from duties here.

Last Thursday Schitschaka came to see the Platteman (le Garcon
du Faissée). She stayed twice as long in our tent. With the de-
sire to do something in acknowledgment of the honor we served
coffee with sugar. Later came the Platteman to inquire whether
one of us would not like to marry her. Oh, is that it? That is why
she came to see us?

March 18. For several days a cold, penetrating north wind has
prevailed. It makes me all the more uncomfortable for the reason
that, in spite of every precaution, it blows directly on my bed. Be-
sides, we are out of coffee. Our only drink is ice water. The river
ice 1s now so thick we can no longer get drinking water from the
hole we scooped out. We have to melt ice either in a kettle over
the fire or let it waste away in our mouths. To make matters worse
we suffer unending thirst as the result of an enforced diet of lean,
sun-dried elk meat; and as a consequence are continually wanting to
drink.

If this chill to which our bodies are subjected both internally and
externally does not penetrate even the marrow in our bones I know
nothing of our human constitution. To get bread at this camp is
out of the question; we have nothing but meat, which at this time
of year is stale and tasteless enough. Never have I been so tormented
with thirst; even, in seasons of excessive heat I have not suffered
such intense desire for drinking water as now, in this climate of
severe dry cold. Even the corn that is now and then graciously sent
us from the fort serves only to inflame the stomach. But we shall
soon have coffee; we set as much store by the coffee pot as do old
wives. If the meat had more nutriment a broth would satisfy our
appetites. ‘The worst effect on me of this severe weather is that I
see so much, so very much, I wish to record with my brush, while
to attempt painting in weather at this temperature is out of the
question.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ oll

Yesterday Boneau and Valette arrived here to take up their abode
for a while; Bruyére has no longer anything for them to do. Smith
has-to go to that winter post and hunt; all of the Indians are tem-
porarily absent from that vicinity. L’Ours Fou, finding things dull
at the fort, sent for the Platteman, whom he wishes to take with
him to fetch the Gens des Filles.1° In this wise, changes have come
about in the personnel of our camp.

All my ideas revolve about one central thought: How much sketch-
ing I might be able to do if the weather were warmer. Since this
excessively cold spell set in my chief occupation has been cutting
wood. We attend to everything ourselves in our tent, so that we
can be alone and undisturbed.

March 21. Have been here 2 weeks already. Today, all of a sud-
den, the weather turned warm. Real thawing weather. If the ice
in the river should break up we would be obliged to get away from
this place and seek a new hunting ground. Even now the hunters
are forced to go a distance of 20 miles to find deer; that is too far
when the meat must be delivered at the fort. I have decided that,
in the event my studies are pretty nearly completed by the end of
next month, I shall make an effort to go with Mr. Culbertson on his
trip down the river. To feel that I am a superfluous guest makes
me uncomfortable in the highest degree; furthermore, there is no
prospect of my being able to earn my livelihood in this country;
and, finally, the noiseless motion of a keelboat will afford me better
opportunity to see wild beasts than if I were to travel on a puffing
steamer.

Joe Dolores and his wife have left for the fort; the former will
go to the Yellowstone to trap beavers on his own account, the latter
will remain at the fort. L’Ours Fou dropped in to see us yester-
day, in passing. Smoked with me for the last time. Heartfelt leave
taking.

March 24. Owing to the sudden rise in temperature we were
obliged to change the location of our camp.

We had to be constantly on the watch for fear that the Yellow-
stone flowing up from more southerly latitudes might break bounds
at any moment, where it empties into the Missouri, and overflow
all the surrounding lowlands. Though our camp stood 8 feet above
the ice-bound Missouri we did not regard our situation as being
any longer safe. Morgan decided upon the old camping ground near
the hayricks; we folded our tents, loaded our goods and chattels on
pack mules, mounted horses, and rode along with the rest of the
drove to that spot. We had to make a detour of 4 miles around a
wide bend of the Missouri. Snow was melting everywhere and, as

16 A band of the Assiniboin, the Girl Band.
81634—37 21

312 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

the water had no outlet and could not be absorbed by earth still
frozen, we were compelled to trudge all the way through slush.

We had the luck to find tent poles 7 that Smith had made use of
when he pitched his camp here earlier in the season, and quantities of
good firewood, but we are surrounded by water. I do not approve
this site at all. We spent a horrible night. I lay down early under
my buffalo robe and fell asleep listening to an Indian air sung by
three metifs in the tent next to ours. I had been fast asleep for some
time when Morgan waked me with the shout, “Water! Water!” He
had been trying to make up the fire, because he wanted to fry an-
other piece of meat, but though the wood was dry he could not get
the fire to burn.

He thought at first this was due to the dampness of the ground
where the fire was built and removed the wood to a more elevated
place in the tent, but with no better result. Finally the light went
out. Morgan started out of the tent and found he was standing in
water. It was high time to save ourselves; the river had over-
flowed its banks and the flood had crept gradually and stealthily
upon us without the least warning. We shouted at once to the sing-
ing metifs and told them to bestir themselves. We hurried to higher
ground, taking with us our bedclothes, books, supplies of gunpowder,
and rifles. In one place we waded through water above our hips.
We left the heavy tent behind and also our stores of meat. The
rising flood came slowly forward until it reached undergrowth and
thickets by which it was restrained. We were at least an English
mile from the river. In the midst of this dismal scene, lighted but
faintly by a crescent moon, our dark forms, enveloped in buffalo
robes, were hurrying to and fro, plunging through the water like
robbers escaping with their booty. The metifs, meanwhile, kept on
singing their long-winded Chippewa song, taking no heed of our
warning, and yet they were perfectly sober. Did they continue
their song in defiance of the elements?

Having reached dry ground, I bound together all my possessions
of value, i. e., my sketchbook, journal, drawing material, etc., and
put them in my much-prized calfskin pouch, which serves me regu-
larly for pillow.

We spread our apischimos on the ground out on the open prairie
and covered ourselves with riding cloaks and buffalo robes, having
first removed our wet clothes. We lay as close together as we could to
keep each other warm.'® We called our dogs to lie on top of us, as

“This advantage, together with that of having hay near at hand, influenced Morgan to
select this place.

* For the first time since I left St. Joseph I slept without my trousers, and now, of all
times, when the weather is cold.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 213

usual, for the purpose of keeping guard and also of imparting
warmth. But those canines were every instant scenting nearby
wolves, bounding off with great outery to fight the beasts or drive
them away, then lying down on top of us again, scratching themselves
and contesting one another’s places. Under such restless, disquieting
conditions, especially in our overexcited state, we were unable to
sleep at all. Notwithstanding, Morgan and I consoled ourselves with
the thought that journeys affording no adventure are worth nothing
to a fellow. One must have something or other to relate afterwards,
else one would not have a really comfortable feeling.

It was already late in the day before we went to see about our aban-
doned tent. Several times we had peeped out faint-heartedly from
under our bed coverings but dared not expose ourselves to a cold,
piercing wind on the open prairie while we put on clothes stiff with
frost. Once dressed, I strode swiftly through the water to our tent,
where I found nothing to eat or drink, no meat, not anything. Then
[ went to the metifs’ tent to dry my clothes by their fire and to get
warm. It was evident that they had removed their tent to higher
ground.

During the hours our place was unguarded dogs had devoured all
our meat. Morgan came on behind me. Never in all my life did
black coffee, without sugar, have so delicious a taste. Never did a
fire seem so glorious. Even the intense cold without, in this instance,
stood us in good stead; ice is always preferable to mud and slush.
Anything but mud and mire, mud and marsh.

Hardly were we through eating when we heard swans passing
overhead, the first we had heard. Morgan ran out to see whether
they were likely to come down anywhere near. He returned quickly
for his gun and hastened away. Meanwhile I sent Boneau and
Valette to bring together our roving horses and see whether all of
them were to be found. Then I assisted Belhumeur to pitch our new
tent, inside of which I am now writing. We have placed this one
on somewhat higher ground than the other, but we are still much
too near the water. Morgan distrusts wind on the open prairie; not
infrequently tents are blown down. After great pains and trouble
we have a good fire burning between our two beds. I am at last dry-
ing my shoes and hose while I get myself warm. Just now the
evening sunshine feels unusually warm. So we are encouraged to
expect the early arrival of ducks, geese, and swans.

In summer the neighboring moor must be alive with those mi-
gratory birds; with mosquitoes and frogs as well, no doubt. The
water now flooding that low ground is purely the result of melting
snows.

314 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

March 26. Night before last the Yellowstone overflowed its banks
and poured into the Missouri with such volume that the ice layer
was crushed in. We were forced to remove our own tent and two
others to the spot where Morgan and I had such a miserable lodg-
ing last Monday night. This bottom land throughout its entire ex-
tent is now under water; the flood, carrying blocks of ice, boughs,
tree stems, scum and foam, sweeps over it like a wild mountain
stream. I hope we may be able to stay for a while, at least, in one
place, for this constant breaking camp and pitching tents anew
has become a bore. Our present location, in my opinion, is not
well chosen. We are exposed to the full fury of prairie winds and
while we have, it is true, plenty of firewood conveniently near, we
find it hardly feasible to snatch our fuel from this roaring flood;
to force our way through a stream blocked with ice and tree trunks
for the purpose of bringing only wet, sodden wood from the forest
is much too dangerous—at the same time of little use. So we have to
go, after all, to the nearest coulee (2 miles) to get wood that will
really keep our fires burning. And where are we to find our game?
On the wide open prairie, where we can be easily discovered for
miles around? Water we have in superabundance, of a certain sort.

Morgan thinks only of shooting ducks; he stands, loaded gun in
hand, gazing always southward. Only a few ducks were seen;
today they sneak under the willow bushes to escape this cold south-
east wind. In truth our prospects for hunting seem rather dis-
couraging at the moment; we have no shot either here or at the
fort. I don’t see how Morgan is likely to hit fowls on the wing
with bullets, especially when the birds are flying singly.

The metifs are employed for a limited term, which ends on the
15th of next month, and they draw their pay in horses. They own
now 26 animals in this drove under our care, while only three horses
and six mules remain to the company. When the metifs depart with
their drove I wonder what is going to be done with regard to our
horse camp? During the recent fearfully cold spell of weather an
old gray horse belonging to us was nearly frozen to death and in
consequence unable to defend himself against wolves that gnawed
away the shank of one of his hind legs. And yet the pitiable old
creature still lives.

March 27. After a long hunt yesterday Morgan came back late
in the evening with only one duck. He said his failure was due to
our lack of shot, and, as I am on good terms with Joe Picotte, he
wished I would go and try to buy some shot from him.

Morgan has expressed that wish several times before, but I am un-
responsive for the reason that I despise Joe Picotte on account of his
double-dealing; for the further reason that he would know, since I

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 315

am no hunter, I have no need of shot myself, but wanted the supply
for his competitors; and, finally, because Mr. Denig would say at
once I went after bread and sugar or else that, during my absence
from the fort, I was currying favor with the opposition. Still,
Morgan has shown me so much friendliness I ordered a horse saddled
today and rode over to the adobe fort. There I found the Missouri
30 feet above its usual level and rushing by with thunderous roar.
The upper Missouri, I was told, rose 20 feet yesterday in 2 hours and,
bearing with it huge blocks of ice, overflowed all the lowlands. In
thickets and coppices, on the outskirts of the forest, blocks of ice
are piled as high as a wall. “The oldest inhabitants have never
known the river to be so high or to rise so rapidly.” The adobe
fort stands 100 feet from the steep river bank; today the stream was
sweeping by within 20 feet of the southward gate.

I was received in a most friendly manner. Joe presented me with
3 pounds of sugar. But I could not get any shot. Notwithstanding
the fall of night I rode immediately back, because I had concealed
something interesting on the prairie and dared take it to our camp
only after dark. In short, on my way over I found a medicine doll
lying on the trail.

Such images are said to have the power to invoke spirits and also
to exert curative effects on sick children. It is a stuffed doll made of
the dressed skin of an animal. It is about 2 feet high and adorned
with the usual ornaments children wear, i. e., bracelets and necklace
of “dove’s eggs”, made of blue and white porcelain. An Indian
woman doctor who attends sick children lost this conjuring doll,
therefore I dare not let the women at our camp know that it is in my
possession. It was as dark as Erebus on the prairie; but for my
horse I should have found my way with difficulty. He neighed to
his comrades and, as they came thundering along to meet him, they
seemed really ghostlike, for in the blackness of night their bodies
could not be distinguished; only their resounding hoofbeats and
eager neighing gave evidence of what was approaching. They
might just as easily have been taken for stags, which often graze with
our horses. After a time I detected in the distance a gleam of light;
it was a fire burning inside a tent. I could at last guide my unwill-
ing courser in a definite direction, he being much more inclined to go
roaming with his own kind. And he was soon at liberty to do so,
for we were again at our camp. The dogs had already scented us
and came bounding forward with loud outcry, but they changed their
wrathful baying for joyous yelps when I called them by name.

This ride of mine over the wide prairie, with only hunting knife
for weapon, brought vividly to my mind a similar uncanny experi-
ence I had once when returning on horseback from St. Joseph to

316 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Savannah. It was a hot day in August (1850), I rode my much-
prized mare Fashion to St. Joseph. As the heat was extraordinarily
oppressive in the late afternoon I delayed going back until night,
when I should find the temperature more agreeable. On the way I
took much pleasure in observing the odd shapes given mighty trees
by luxuriant climbing plants that hung like veils upon them, some-
times airy and unsubstantial, sometimes heavy and thick; here, de-
cayed trees seemed to stretch forth naked arms to heaven; there, up-
rooted trunks supported their broken limbs on the ground or lifted
their huge roots menacingly. As the moon rose I was nearing Sa-
vannah on my swift traveler, Fashion. How she was stretching her
four legs. How jolly I was feeling. I had thrown my jacket across
my saddlebow, for the temperature was still so high as to make me
too warm even in my shirt sleeves. Suddenly there appeared before
me on the dimly lighted roadway the indistinct shape of a man on
horseback. The rider asked where I was bound for. He advised that
I turn back with him; in the vicinity of Jamestown, he said, was an
apparition that froze the blood in his veins. The stranger then told
me how, as he was riding along the road, a knight in armor suddenly
appeared, standing on a high rail fence.

He tossed the plume on his helmet and, lifting his bare sword,
struck three blows on his shield with such force that my informant’s
horse became frightened and ran away, thus rescuing him from peril.
He urged me to avoid passing that spot, for horse thieves were in
ambush there. I knew that entire section was in ill repute; far and
wide there was not a dwelling house to be seen; the forest afforded
secure hiding places; at night, the road was little traveled; murders
were not at all infrequent. But the unknown rider impressed me as
even more worthy of suspicion. I was unable to distinguish his fea-
tures, though our horses stood so close together they could rub noses.
His intention, I thought, was to entice me along with himself and,
at a favorable moment, to deal me a blow behind the ears. In reply,
therefore, I assured the ghost seer that I had no fear of danger, I
was well armed, and well mounted; thereupon, I bade him good night,
gripped Fashion with my legs, rode down the hill and crossed the
stream at its foot. I peered sharply into the dark places sheltered by
shrubbery, drew tighter rein, gripped Fashion more closely, so as not
to be taken unawares, for, to tell the truth, my only weapon of defense
was my little pocketknife. On the high rail fence so exactly described
I saw no sign of ghost. However, I did hear the next day that the son
of a farmer living in the near neighborhood of “Jimtown” was
attacked that night, as he was returning from Savannah.

Some one shot at him with pistols. As luck would have it, he was
carrying an umbrella under his left arm (umbrellas are often used

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 317

by Americans to protect them from the sun). This man’s sunshade
was perforated by seven bullet shots and he received several slight
wounds.

March 28. As Morgan and I were out together on a hunt we met
the semisavage Kipland who was bringing us a note from Mr. Denig,
in which he gave us directions to remain at the camp, in spite of the
outbreak of the rivers, until the metifs left, or better still, until Mr.
Culbertson arrived from Blackfeet territory and took us two along
with him. If Mr. Denig only knew how little we yearn for his so-
ciety he would not have been in such a hurry to send that message.
He assumes, I suppose, that we are just as sensible of the want of
bread as he would be in our place.

As the result of a raw, cold wind, the river is again covered with
ice sufficiently thick to restrain the upper current and cake together
ice blocks and masses of wood, but yet not firm enough to bear our
weight. We had quite a picturesque adventure crossing the wild
coulee by holding on to overhanging boughs as we clambered over
huge blocks of ice. In a corner of this frozen lake that covers the
upper pasture we heard La Pierre frequently firing off his gun.

We therefore hurried across the thin ice crust that overspread the
prairie, breaking through at every step and causing a great deal of
noise by the constant cracking of ice. This attracted our dogs, un-
fortunately; they broke loose from the tent where we had confined
them and came running along, too. As they were not in the right
direction their presence would necessarily only destroy our prospects
for a hunt. We drove them back, but they retreated only to a certain
distance and there they remained, howling most dolefully. Pretty
soon we discovered two hinds, standing bewildered at the brink of
the frozen river and looking anxiously toward us; on one side of
them La Pierre was unceasingly firing upon a herd that had sunken
through the ice crust into the water; in the rear was the treacherous
ice; in front of them were Morgan and I; on the other side were the
howling dogs. Morgan took my gun, concealed himself behind a
clump of bushes, and told me to go around to the other side and
drive the two hinds toward him. I ran quickly forward, facing the
sharp wind; the dazed animals did not scent me but remained per-
fectly still until I was within 20 feet of them. I put them to flight
by shouting and hurling chunks of ice. How easily I could have
shot them if only I had had my gun at hand. Morgan missed aim;
the little creatures escaped. For my part I did not grudge them their
life.

Then Morgan went in pursuit of his everlasting ducks, a sport that
is not worth so much freezing oneself and getting one’s clothes soak-
ing wet.

318 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

I made my way through the thin ice layer to Marguerite La Pierre,
who shouted across to ask that I come and lead the pack horse she
had brought, through the water to her father, so that he might load
the meat and hides. Up to his knees in water, La Pierre stood far out
in the river, where he had slain a herd that was unable to get out of
the depths, because, with every plunge to extricate themselves from
the surrounding ice crust, the animals sank again into the bed of the
stream. I had great difficulty crossing the thin layer myself; I sank
through repeatedly into the icy water. Still, I could not expect that
girl to do such work. When I reached La Pierre he was already tak-
ing off the hides. Standing leg deep in ice water, I assisted him. As
soon as the horse was laden (with hides, legs, shoulders, and portions
of ribs) I made my way as fast as I could to the tent, for I was miser-
ably cold and even more uncomfortable from the irritation to my
skin caused by frozen trousers. The tent I found cheerless and cold;
the fire had gone out. I had to return to the frozen river, snatch from
it some tree limbs embedded there, split the wood, and build a fire
again. In a short time I had a blaze that would have done credit to
Hades. For such terrible cold as I was enduring was no joke; I was
trembling in every limb, my teeth were chattering, and yet I was
obliged to dry my clothes on my body. I wasso benumbed that I felt
as though I would lke to put my arms around that fire and hug the
blaze.

April 1. Since last Saturday winter has returned with rigor:
heavy snowfall, frightful cold, violent north wind. Everything seems
working together to make our life here quite romantically miserable.
In such atrocious weather as this one would refuse to turn a dog out,
to say nothing of human hunters; accordingly, Morgan feeds the dogs
better than usual and diminishes our rations from day to day. He
means, most probably, to give the former less inclination to steal. To
procure wood for our fire we have to run the risk of slipping down,
perhaps falling through the treacherous ice crust at any minute, with
our burden on the shoulder, or else wade through deep snow to the
distant coulee, cut down an ash or a linden and lug the wood to camp.
A hero in peril is, I admit, romantic. But a hero unloved—Does he
excite any interest ?

Yesterday morning, I can tell you, I was in no jocose humor. Upon
awaking we saw what inspired great alarm: the interior of our tent
was entirely covered with snow. The vessel containing our meat
broth, the fire, bedclothes, man, and beast, everything under snow.
What a dreary outlook: to get out of our beds, shake off the snow,
clean up the tent before we could light the fire again, thaw our meat
broth and make it palatable.

Our prospects become constantly more dreary, more comfortless.
Later on, while lying beside the fire beneath my buffalo robe, what

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 319

visions hovered before my inward eye of the good food, warm living
apartments, smokeless fireplaces, dry, well-secured dwelling I had
given up for.the sake of attaining my life’s aim. Never had I been
so entranced with material comforts; my imagination as by a con-
jurer’s art brought before me, in mockingly tempting review, all
the delicious viands I most relish, all the most alluring situations
in life.

“Tante mieux” (so much the better), as they say here, I con-
soled myself by considering our wretched condition from the stand-
point of painter and dwelt upon our picturesque situation. For
the time being, life is hard to be sure; but did I not come in search
of these experiences? Have I not longed for them as an aid to my
study of Indian life, in good fortune and bad, in abundance and in
want, in joy and in sorrow, in summer’s heat and winter’s rigorous
cold?

Shall the enjoyment of a pleasant lot in after hfe compensate me
for the pains I now endure? Will my paintings insure me comforts
in my old age? Aside from the satisfaction a painter feels in the
accomplishment of work well achieved, this is what I most desire.
I have no ambition to strive for fame, but only to express in my
art the ideal that urges me on.

Patience! Sunshine follows rain!

April 2. Bad news has reached us from Joe Dolores. When he
arrived with his laden dogs at his destination on the Yellowstone
he found the region under water and had to turn back. He has
now been lingering for several days in the tent of an Assiniboin on
the other side of the Missouri, opposite Fort Union, until he feels
he may risk crossing on the ice. The tent of that Assiniboin with
whom he is staying is the only one left of five that were pitched
there. The report goes that Blackfeet have killed 25 people.

During last night the waters of the Missouri receded to their nor-
mal bounds; the ice crust, after much splitting and cracking, finally
gave way. The thick fogs have been dispersed by the sun, which
now shines with more splendor and more warmth than we have
recently experienced. Under the sun’s genial rays the snow is melt-
ing fast. Blades of grass are already protruding from the soil.
Throughout these recently flooded lowlands quantities of driftwood
lie in piles and, what presents a more singular appearance, great
blocks of ice rest among the boughs of trees, where they were lodged
when carried thither by the high waters. There they remain, along
with other heaps of such ice blocks and snow mounds found every-
where among the undergrowth and coppices. Is the winter really
at an end? Hardly: the month of April is the most unsettled of
the entire year.

320 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

Dried venison and suet is our only fare; but we should do pretty
well, even so, if we did not suffer so dreadfully from thirst and
the drinking of ice-cold water did not so chill us to the bone. Black
coffee is a rare delicacy that we drink with all the pleasure of old
maids. As a rule we have to make out with hot broth made from
dried meat.

April 8. Joe Dolores is once more with us. He told us about his
misadventures on the beaver hunt. In the first place, he set out on
his trapping expedition one day too late; reached the Yellowstone,
therefore, just as the waters burst through the ice and overflowed
the surrounding land. He attempted to cross in a skin canoe, but
found the stream so full of floating ice he had to turn back. Even
then he was forced to abandon his boat in order to save his dogs and
the travois, together with three traps, from the raging flood. Then
he had to wade a long distance through water breast deep, until he
reached higher ground on the prairie. Under a great elm, where
he was sheltered by a gigantic ice block lying near, he kindled a
fire to dry his clothes and get himself warm. Next morning he
walked around to get a view of his situation and decide what he
was to do. He came upon an abandoned campfire. Upon such dis-
coveries this question arises at once in a person’s mind: Friend or foe?
Dolores was unaware of Assiniboin lodges in that neighborhood, so
he assumed at once that Blackfeet had recently passed that way.

He loaded his gun, adding, along with his bullet ball, a handful
of buckshot, and went cautiously forward. Soon he caught sight
of an Indian. At the instant he raised his gun and took aim he
heard the whimpering of a dog.

“Blackfeet have no dogs,” he said to himself. “That man must be
one of the Dacota.”

With that, he stood upright and greeted the Indian with the well-
known words, “Dagodeh kuna?” (Whither, friend?) The Assini-
boin was severely wounded in his left arm, which was so swollen it
was all astrut. Joe had from him an account of Blackfeet attack.
Seven Assiniboin tents under command of La Main Poque were hunt-
ing in the vicinity of a small lake this side of the Butte des Mam-
melles, where they were detected by a troop of Blackfeet who were
lying in wait for Crow Indians. At sunrise the next morning the
Blackfeet made a surprise attack on the seven tents, cut three of
them asunder at once, sent a bullet into the brain of one Assiniboin,
but were unable to get his scalp. On the whole, though they had
all the advantage of a surprise attack from higher ground and of
superior numbers, the Blackfeet seem not to have fought valiantly.
They were reported to have numbered 50 men; but that I do not for
one moment believe, because the casualties were so few. They killed

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ EA |

one warrior only, one woman, and inflicted severe wounds upon 15
others.

They themselves lost three men and one scalp. It is reported that
after the first onslaught they made no further combined attacks but
merely kept themselves concealed within rifle range behind trees and
underbrush. The Assiniboin were protected only by heaps of snow.
Perhaps, when the Blackfeet found out that they were attacking
Assiniboin instead of Crows, they lost courage.

I must say La Main Poque chose a most unfavorable situation
when he encamped in the bottom of that deep circular valley, shut
in by hills covered with groves and thickets, while the ground sur-
rounding his encampment was perfectly level. The women lay down
flat on their stomachs and covered themselves and their papooses
with buffalo robes. That is why so many of these were grazed with
bullets on their heels, hinderparts, and shoulders. Bluefoot was the
one and only man who did not fight but covered himself on the
ground just as the women did. Joe says that he saw the Blackfeet’s
fortified camp, which was entrenched with the trunks of trees. From
the quantities of bones there he formed the conclusion that the enemy
had tarried a long time in ambush. If we had crossed the Yellow-
stone according to our plan some time ago that band would have
cost us our pack horses, at least, if not our lives.

To witness such an encounter would not have been an unwelcome
experience, so far as I am concerned; at the same time the thought
of being crippled or made blind is far more disagreeable in prospect
than the possibility of being suddenly killed. To be a burden to
others throughout the term of a long life would be a hundred times
more bitter than death. Besides, I have no desire to appear as an
enemy to the Indians; up to the present time I have had no cause
to take such an attitude. é

April 7. Mild weather and substantial food has again awakened
my dormant imagination. Last Sunday was indeed a dismal, lonely
day. We had only tough venison to eat and precious little of that,
so Morgan decided to ride to the fort and, under pretext of wanting
shot, to purvey the ducks that Mr. Denig so highly prizes for his
table, to provide also for our wants. Dejected and lonely, I remained
the entire day, lying wrapped in my buffalo robe beside our fire.
In the first place the weather was too cold to make the out-of-doors
agreeable, and furthermore the long fingers of La Pierre’s wife
and daughter made it necessary for me to guard our belongings
inside the tent. Those two had already committed several bold
thefts; once, in the night, they stole a duck that Morgan had been
saving quite a while for Mr. Denig; another time they took the last
of our parched coffee which we had powdered with a stone and

322 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

hidden away under my pillow. Upon this last occasion I was
aroused from sleep when the skin pouch containing the coffee was
pulled out from under my head and I recognized Marguerite from
the dress she wore.

Immediately I fell asleep again, and was under the impression
later that I dreamed I saw Marguerite. When the pouch was no-
where to be found, however, light began to dawn on me. Both
women denied, at first, that they stole the coffee; but soon after-
wards my attention was attracted by something moving outside our
tent opposite the place where my bed is laid, and then I saw a
“beautiful hand” thrust the purloined pouch under the awning.
The older woman confessed at once that she took the duck, because,
she said, we did not know how to prepare the fowl. That I found
much time for reflection, on the dreary day of which I speak, any
one can easily understand. To enliven my spirits I drank warm
water sweetened with sugar.

On Monday Morgan brought some select portions of dried meat
taken from the deponille or fat layers over the ribs, some coffee
in return for my money, and corn that had been soaked in lye to
remove the outer covering. I could hardly get enough of the dried
deponille, such a luxury it seemed in comparison with our daily fare
of dried venison, which is all the more unpalatable at this time of
year.

Today I had to fabricate for Morgan a novel kind of shot; at least
to me it is something new, though this is most probably the sort
that was first used.

I had to flatten 1-pound bars of lead into thin plates, cut the
latter into narrow bars, from which I then struck off little cubes,
threw them into our frying pan together with ashes and sand, rubbed
and rubbed them over and over with a flat stone until those small
angular pieces had become round. Cadotte is put to the necessity
of fabricating his own sort of shot, or rather buckshot. He takes
such cubes of lead as I have mentioned, of whatever size his need
requires, and rounds them off in his mouth with his teeth. Saw, to-
day, a large herd of elks grazing on the hills. With the aid of my
telescope I studied for a long while their different postures and
movements.

Only a few moments ago La Pierre brought the news that he saw
two Indians running elks on the other side of the river (south-
ern bank). They concealed themselves, however, the instant they
caught sight of him. Now our entire settlement is in a state of alarm.
Blackfeet !

Once, near Fort Union, Blackfeet Indians drove off a number of
horses right under the owners’ noses; remembering that occurrence,
the men here feel that our drove is no longer in safety. We have

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ Soe

loaded our guns afresh, secured the best horses and mules to stakes
near the tents, and we make the dogs sleep outside. Now that it
is a question of defense, the unfavorable situation of our camp is
perfectly apparent.

Out on the prairie we have pitched our tents on the slope of what
was in early times a high river shore, while the plain below us is cov-
ered with forests and undergrowth, so dense that an enemy could
actually conceal himself almost within arm’s length of us. By night
our illuminated tents expose us just as certainly to their attacks. But
white men, when fully armed, have no fear of Indians who have the
habit of coming near only for the purpose of stealing.

April9. Snow again, already. But, after all, snow is preferable to
rain. Continual rainy weather would be the most abominable state
of things that could be revisited upon us: no hunting, nothing to eat,
no firewood, no fire in the tent, and, if the downfall continued long
enough, water would flow down even under the beds where we sleep.
At the moment things are not going well with our hunters. Cadotte
ran a splinter into his foot; he is therefore lame. La Pierre is de-
jected because he must give up all hope of being employed at the
fort. Morgan, enthusiastic and untiring on the hunt for ducks, is
ruining his health standing in ice-cold water at some hiding place, and
always without success. One day he shot a beautiful otter, and as
the animal was being carried down the swollen stream near the bois
peinture *° he plunged into water up to his shoulders in order to re-
cover it; but, as he could not swim, he lost his valuable prize after all.
Another time, wearing his horned fur cap, he enticed two dainty hinds
within range of his rifle, but his gun missed fire and the animals
- ran off.

When he shoots a duck, goose, or swan, on the other hand, they fall
at some place where he cannot lay hands on them and he has no
trained dog to help him. It is due to such mischance, of course, that
he is not in a better humor when he comes back to camp, for he is in
reality a good shot, only not a cool, well-trained huntsman. When he
returns disappointed he finds fault always with me, his fellow tent
dweller. Either the fire is smoking or the blaze is too strong; the
meat is underdone or else cooked too long. I pass over such outbursts
with patience, since he has often much to endure from my lack of
skill in selecting wood for the fire and in the way I cut it up. Besides,
in the success of Morgan’s plan to put his chief in fine mood by send-
ing him ducks and so win him over to grant our early release, I have
everything to gain. I have now observed the manner of hunting game
of all species in this part of the world. My supply of art paper is
exhausted. Why should I remain longer?

2T. e., painted tree.

324 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

I cannot help feeling sorry for Morgan when, in defiance of frigid
weather, hail, ice and snow, high waters, morass and wind, he hunts
zealously the livelong day without bringing back any game at all to
enliven our fireside with prospect of a roast, and Cadotte shoots
enough wild fowl from his own tent to feed himself, his wife, and
visitors besides. Cadotte never ruins his clothes, never tires himself
out, never gets soaking wet, or benumbed from cold for the sake of
roast duck.

So he laughs all the more about Morgan’s ill-luck. Cadotte’s
swift gait, when stalking deer, and his endurance under such strain,
is truly remarkable. He can pursue the ambling elks untiringly
for 20 miles and turn to his own advantage the curiosity of the ani-
mals, their habit of standing still and looking about, etc. However,
Cadotte is now lame and must remain in camp.

Elks are not so timid as smaller deer, or so swift in flight. They
do not bound and leap as stags and antelopes do, but amble along,
stopping quite frequently to look out for pursuers; whereupon the
hunter in that case has to hide or else lie down flat on the ground.
Even from a distance a skilled huntsman can distinguish the differ-
ent species of deer by the way they stand. For instance, antelopes
and elks, accustomed to range on the open prairie, keep their feet
farther apart than the white-tailed or the black-tailed deer that
prefer the forests and narrow passes.

April 10. Morgan and Cadotte rode over together to the Lower
Bourbeuse to shoot wild fowl; according to report, the birds nest
there in great numbers at this season of the year. In the meantime
La Bombarde arrived from the fort for the purpose of making
an arrangement with Belhumeur whereby he could induce the latter
to go along with his family to the Red River.

In other words, La Bombarde is employed by Mr. Denig for
another year but his family is not included in the contract. They
must go. The metifs leave tomorrow with their horses. Morgan,
Cadotte, the Spaniard, and I are to tarry here until Mr. Culbertson
arrives. We have to provide for ourselves both food and protection.
What La Pierre is going to “land” he himself does not yet know.

April 11. Fifth Sunday in camp, without bread. Belhumeur,
Valette, and Boneau have gone, taking all the horses that belong to
the metifs. Only three tents remain. Morgan and Cadotte have
returned from the Bourbeuse, where they both passed a dismal night.
That region is also flooded. Waterfowl in multitudes, but after the
first discharge of the guns they were all on the other side of the
stream; consequently, if one were not provided with water spaniels
the killing of the birds was of no use. This time Morgan came home
happy because he outstripped Cadotte.

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 325

April 18. Yesterday I spent another utterly miserable day. My
discomfort was not due in this instance to scanty fare, for we had
roast goose.*+

But we were thrown into disquiet and confusion by a frightful
windstorm that unceasingly howled and, carrying the snow before it,
swept across the prairie with a roar, sometimes like distant thunder.
Now the sun was allowed to shine, now the sky became once more
dark and the air thick with rain or snow or hail. When we found
it necessary to secure our tent further by weighting the tent cover
down with tree stems not one of us found it possible to stand upright
in the storm. There was such a fiendish uproar we could not under-
stand what each other said. Incessant howling of the wind, flapping
of the awning, fluttering of the cover flaps, cracking of the tent
poles, made it impossible for us to be comfortable inside the tent.
We were frightfully cold. We had every reason to expect that the
awning would be snatched at any moment from over our heads. That
actually happened to the family of La Pierre in the afternoon. To
erect their lodge again in such a gale was an impossibility, so they
came to us seeking shelter. We detest having them around because
of their pilferings; we were not inclined to share goose or coffee,
which came so dear, with those common womenfolk; we sent them
to Cadotte.

Antoine himself was absent. The old woman, out of pure spite,
pushed away a tree stem that we had laid on the awning to weight
it down, but we noticed at once what had been done and were able
to prevent disaster for the time being. In the evening they had
better success with their bad joke. Just as Morgan and I were
sitting comfortably together, eating roast goose and drinking strong
meat broth, a violent gust of wind lifted our tent and, without
so much as by your leave, snatched it from over our heads. At
the same instant it drove the fire into our laps and caught up every-
thing together—fire, gunpowder, cloaks, clothes, buffalo robes—in
one chaotic whirl. Now what were we to do? It was goodby roast
goose and hot meat broth! We had to look out for our goods and
chattels flying about our heads and exert our utmost efforts to collect
them. We had to regain our fallen awning and pile tent poles upon
it, put out the fire, beat sparks out of the buffalo robes, and put the
gunpowder in some safe place. There was now no alternative for
us; we had to seek protection in Cadotte’s tent, the only one left

21 Body gray-brown, head metallic green, throat and breast white, neck indigo blue.
The swan in this part of the country is distinguished from the swan in Switzerland by a
black cartilaginous protuberance at the root of its bill. The skin of the swan is not
used here, but the feathers are made into beautifully decorated fans. Goose (Anser
canadensis); swan (Trumpetes novus, Cygnus buccinator). The ducks were: Pintail
duck (Anasacuta), scaup duck (Fuligula valisneriana), and green-winged teal.

326 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

standing. We were so crowded together in that small space that
we were obliged to sit up the whole night through, and to feel
heartily glad, meanwhile, that the gale had not torn away our last
refuge.

This morning the wind fell; the sky is gloriously blue, and the
sunshine delightful. With the help of Garouille’s wife and daughter
we pitched our tent again in a very short time; we have had quite a
little practice.

However, we made only a provisional arrangement of things, hop-
ing to be delivered soon from this place. Life in a wigwam begins
to bore me, now that I have no further incentive to make new studies,
no further chance to employ myself except to keep the fire burning
and to gaze into its glowing depths, solitarily, since I possess no
family to enliven my fireside. My enthusiasm wanes all the more cer-
tainly under such conditions of inaction and insufferable weather,
since I have nothing more to gain by remaining here.”

Morgan and I spent the entire morning drying our clothes, putting
things in order, and helping each other find our belongings. I dis-
covered my gray felt hat hanging on a far distant bush. In the
evening we had Smith and Joe Dolores in our tent. The former
brought with him a fat beaver that he had shot on the way. As he
had furnished me earlier with one of these animals for a model I
could afford to pass over this opportunity to make a sketch. I en-
joyed the tender beaver meat, which made a fine dish. Smith gave
me the tail for preservation.

After such dreadful weather, how genial seems the sunshine today.
Its effect is not only to send one’s blood coursing more rapidly
through one’s veins, but to present the future as brighter, more
smilingly inviting. Never despair! “When sufficient rain has fallen,
then the rain will stop.” Days that seem hardest, nights that seem
longest, must come to an end.

They say everything comes to those who wait. Perhaps that is
not universally true. How often I have thought I would have to
give up any hope of attaining my aims because I lacked necessary
funds. How often I have been forced to suspend my studies in order
to earn my bread. For how long a time my thoughts, my fears, my
joys were directed solely to the ideal in my heart of which I dreamed,
on which my life was centered, yet to which, for lack of means, I was
unable to give expression. Now that I am in possession of the studies
I need I look forward to the fulfillment of this dream I have
treasured for 20 years,

The scientific part of my work I have now completed; aesthetic
execution remains yet to be done. Up to this time I devoted myself

22It would be much more gratifying to me now if I had taken more interest in things;
for instance, in studying the different species of ducks, etc.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 327

more to study; I have as yet executed but few paintings. My plan
included the study of all three chief subjects in painting: Mankind,
animals, and landscape. It goes without saying that longer time is
required for all three than for one of these divisions alone. My
studies in America include such a great number as well as such a
various assortment that to choose what I shall paint will be no easy
matter. Where shall I begin? My head is crammed full of it all.
Furthermore, I have still to master by long practice the art of pro-
ducing harmony and effect in my compositions.

If I may but devote the rest of my life to the execution of paint-
ings; if only the worry of earning my livelihood in future does not
dim my enthusiasm; if conflict with need and want does not destroy
my idealism. How wretched I should be, what an unfortunate I
should regard myself, if I were unresponsive to the inspiration of
art. Only not that. I would rather die.

April 14. Very warm weather this morning, golden sunshine,
clear bright blue sky. Took my sketchbook under my arm, called
Schungtogetsche, our tamed wolf, and wandered over to the coulee
to make a sketch of a somewhat grotesque view in a dell. On the
way, I heard two cannon shots: Salvo at the fort, but in honor of
whom? Culbertson or Harvey? I saw several of our hunters hurry-
ing back to camp, hoping to see the long-wished-for messenger of
deliverance approaching at full gallop. I hurried, therefore, all the
more with my drawing. As the messenger would have to pass not
far from where I was, I remained there. I found, to be sure, that the
group of trees, selected earlier in the gloom of a dell washed by wild
waters and shrouded in mist and snow, was not nearly so original a
subject when viewed under today’s bright sunshine. Still the sketch
will enable me to recall that first, almost terrifying, scene.

As I now await Mr. Culbertson, I was waiting just as impatiently
last year for the blades of grass to spring on the prairie near Savan-
nah, so that I might drive my four-in-hand across country to Salt
Lake. The grass grew, but not in my behalf or for the benefit of
my four-span.

Will my present expectation end also in disappointment? Will
Mr. Culbertson come and go without taking me along with him?
If what is offered in exchange prove as agreeable, as much more
to my advantage as was my journey up the Missouri in comparison
with the anticipated trip to Salt Lake, I shall have nothing on which
to base complaint.

The time must be near at hand; I shall soon know what fate has
in store.

April 15. Oh! Here I sit in a chair at the table beside the fire
in my old room at the fort. Yesterday, no sooner had I replaced

my journal in my skin pouch than an aging Assiniboin, his entire
81634—37——22

328 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

face blackened, with the exception of the tip of his nose, arrived at
our tent and, in the absence of Morgan, delivered to me a communi-
cation from Mr. Denig containing the welcome order to break camp
and return, bag and baggage, man, horse, and dog, to Fort Union
today. Of what provisions we had, we gave the odd-looking courier
something to eat, and fired off our guns to summon Morgan who
was over beyond the hayricks lying in wait for ducks.

This morning we had to pack up, break camp, and depart in most
unpleasant weather; but for that very reason I left our hunting
ground all the more willingly and with no regret.

Had the sun shone warm, had the ground been dry, affording the
prospect of one more hunt, of yet other interesting sketches, I might
have withdrawn from the scene of our struggles with some re-
luctance. We were facing a sharp west wind that drove forward,
now rain, now snow, constantly recurring storms that made our
advance slow and difficult. At the coulee Smith was bitten by one
of his dogs. The riders hurried forward with the pack mules.
Presently I found myself in the rear, combating the elements in
company with old dame Garouille and her daughter. Under the
heavy downpour of rain, prairie and sky became blurred and in-
distinct; sometimes we were unable to see 20 feet ahead. Heavy
raindrops, propelled by violent wind, struck sharply against our
faces. As ill-luck would have it, my riding cloak was packed with
the buffalo robes carried by a pack mule in the vanguard far ahead
of us. Under such conditions, facing wind and rain, as I have
described, I had to walk 5 long miles through water that on the level
and still half-frozen ground could neither flow off nor sink in, but
steadily increased in depth and extent until it overspread the prairie
like a vast inland lake. The nearer we came to the fort, all the more
violent the wind, all the more heavy the downpour, and consequently
all the more rapid the rise of water on the prairie. It seemed as
though the heavens, provoked to anger by losing so good a chance
to inflict continued torment on defenseless men, were moved to vent
their utmost fury.

Fortunately, though we found it impossible to look far ahead
through the impenetrable rain and mist, we were able to follow a
path that had been made by marauders; otherwise I could not have
kept my bearings at all. Except for such weather I was in no haste
to reach the fort. I did not care to be received by Mr. Denig with
the cheerful greeting: “Bread makes you stir your stumps.”

On the east side of the fort, where they are protected from the
raging west wind, I found a group of Assiniboin lodges occupied by
La Main Poque and his wounded braves. Several Indians were walk-
ing proudly about the place, parading their blackened faces, with

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 329

the exception of their nose tips, as evidence of having survived a
hand-to-hand combat with the enemy (Blackfeet).

When I entered the messroom I found that my fellow travelers
had pretty well emptied the dishes of rice and beans. I saw from
my reflection in the mirror how thin I had grown. When I un-
dressed I noticed that my legs were quite stiff from prolonged ex-
posure to cold and dampness and that my feet were badly swollen.

April 16. Old north wind still rumbles and roars as of old, but
not to my dismay; in any event it is not likely to snatch this shelter
from over my head as he blew away my tent. He cannot penetrate
these thick walls and disturb my slumbers. Mr. Denig agreed to my
proposal that I be released without further remuneration if Mr.
Culbertson is willing to take me along with him.

He presented me with a pair of snowshoes. In such weather as
this I am in no hurry to travel down the river.

April 17. I made a visit to the pressroom that I might jot down
the names of different wild animals in this section, for the pelts
stored there afford a rather complete list of those four-footed beasts
which are native here. Those found in greatest numbers are buffalo,
elk, Virginia deer, antelope, gray wolf, prairie wolf, gray fox, red
fox, mice; then grizzly bear, beaver, bighorn (Rocky Mountain
sheep), black-tailed deer, ermine, hedgehog, muskrat, white hare,
otter, marten, skunk, and cross fox. Also I came upon the skin of a
wolverine: its hair is long and entirely black, except where it merges
to dark brown on the underparts along the sides of the paunch; tail is
long and bushy, head like that of a pug dog. A living animal of this
species has never come under my observation. Among those whose
pelts I failed to find are rabbits, squirrels, badgers, rats, black bears,
and black and red wolves. Other wild creatures native here in great
numbers are tortoises, raccoons, cougars, lynxes, prairie dogs, buz-
zards, parrakeets, turkeys, doves, fireflies, and bees.

April 18. Fare thee well, Fort Union! Mr. Culbertson arrived by
boat yesterday. He will take Morgan and me with him, provided we
are willing to pull an oar. Tomorrow morning we shall be off. Adieu,
Fort Union! Farewell, ye red men! Farewell, ye wild beasts of
primeval woods!

April 19. Left Fort Union at 11 this morning to begin my return
journey home. My studies in this country are now completed. From
this time forward my thoughts are to be concentrated on the painting
of pictures. One half of my work accomplished at middie life and at
the expense of my health.

Our keelboat provides a cabin built of wood which will protect
us from wind and frost. The door is in the wall toward the prow;
two apertures on one side serve for portholes; near the wall at the

330 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

back stands a cooking stove. Forward, at the left, a bed is placed for
Mr. Culbertson and supplies of meat and corn meal. The cabin has
a flat roof, on top of which the pilot manipulates the lengthened
rudder. In the bow there are three benches for oarsmen, and under
those seats is stored our firewood.

Upon setting out we found more people aboard than the boat could
accommodate comfortably. Several Indian women took passage as
far as Fort Berthold. During that part of our journey we men, with
the exception of Mr. Culbertson, had to content ourselves with the
roof for our lodging place at night.

April 20. Steadily keeping stroke with the oars I found hard
work: My hands were soon blistered, badly swollen, and stiff. Row-
ing is no joke, even for practiced Canadians, if they are required
invariably to keep stroke, never to be put out. First I was too
slow, then I was too fast; now I plunged the oar too deeply, now
I dipped the oar too lightly; again, my oar either struck the back
of the rower in front of me or else became entangled with the oar
of another man. Baptiste Champagne was at the helm. Morgan
and I, together with Hawthorn, Cadotte, Joe Dolores, and three
Canadians, assisted now and then by a young Blackfeet (brother-
in-law of Mr. Culbertson), took turns at the oars. Our cook was a
Negro. Mr. Culbertson was in command. He was sometimes at
the wheel, sometimes pulling an oar, trying to keep himself warm by
exercise. Every 20 minutes, at the command “Leve!” ** the oarsmen
were relieved. At night we lay to, collected on shore quantities of
wood for our fire, and then lay down to sleep. Very good meals
under the circumstances.

April 21. Strong contrary winds; boat moored to shore. Rested.
Took a walk. My swollen feet were much in need of exercise.

April 22. We were often interrupted in our navigation today,
according as the wind was stormy or calm.

April 23. Rather pleasant sailing. Cadotte killed a bighorn that
had left the herd and was clambering down a steep bluff.

April 24. Cadotte and Battiste had a jolly hunt; they killed a
buffalo. We had to bring the meat aboard from quite a distance.
We are still making our way around the Big Bend. Owing to
counterwinds we are often forced to stop. I saw numbers of elks.

April 25. Beautiful weather. Rowed vigorously. Reached Fort
Berthold at sunset. Found my large trunk in good order. Indian
apparel I had engaged from Bellangé together with three handsome
buffalo robes and other things besides were all in readiness for me.
I confess I was not a little surprised at this. One of the robes, a

%T. e., raise.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 3al

complete buffalo skin without cut or seam and ornamented with
drawings in color, delighted me especially. I was glad to get it,
nothwithstanding that I had received from Mr. Culbertson that very
day a beautiful robe made from the hide of a forest bison.* I haye
now seven robes and two calfskins.

In exchange for his services Bellangé received my gun with all
that belongs therewith, and also other things that I no longer need.
For keepsake I gave him my much valued telescope. At Fort
Berthold Joe and the three women went ashore; their departure
enabled us to be much more comfortable, though the Canadians
maintained that the more heavily laden the boat the faster would
be her speed. In the neighborhood of the fort I saw a great many
tents occupied by Assiniboin and Absaroka.

April 26. Left Fort Berthold at sunrise. This has been the first
bright, warm day we have had on our voyage. We came rapidly
down the river. Stopped at Fort Clarke; while the bourgeois went
to talk with Dorson I watched a ball game played by Arikara girls.
We rowed about 25 miles farther downstream, passing by great
numbers of prairie fires. At this season of the year Indians set the
prairie on fire in order to remove the old, dried grass and provide
room for the young, tender growth. Therein consists the Indians’
total cultivation of the land their bands are accustomed to wander
over. We spent the night at the Cannon Ball River.

April 27. Again strong counterwinds; we had to moor the boat
fast to shore. Morgan shot a lynx, which at first we took to be a
young cougar, but the short tail and pointed ears were sufficient to
identify the species. Multitudes of gulls, either disquieted or be-
wildered by the high wind, swarmed over the surface of the river.
When one sees them flying together over the water and hears the
confused din of their cries one may safely reckon on a violent gale.
It was on the river that the wind was strong; on shore one notices
it hardly at all.

None of the gulls included in Audubon’s Ornithologia correspond
to these I have observed on the Missouri. These more nearly resem-
ble the ivory gull, but have not the corresponding habitat: Some-
times, by chance, the coast of the United States; frequently, during
the winter season, Labrador and New Foundland. Breeds in high
latitudes. If the herring or silver gull were not so strong a silver
gray in color I might think these were of that family.

April 29. Wind; consequent rest for us. Cadotte, Battiste, and
company went into a little glen, sheltered from the wind, lighted a

2% The forest bison and the prairie bison are differentiated according to their choice of
habitat. The former are never found in such extensive herds as range on the prairies, but
only in small groups. Their hair is more curly, not smooth on their bodies, which is
perhaps due to the more northerly latitude of the regions that they inhabit.

Son BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [pubn. 115

big blazing fire, lay down beside it, and went to sleep. In the mean-
time the dried grass about them caught fire but burned slowly, sur-
rounding them with a circle of flame. Then, fanned by a gust of
wind, it spread, driving onward in winding curves. I followed a
long way, at an even gait, walking over the charred ground, spring-
ing several times across the flames, simply to find out whether prairie
fires are really as dangerous as writers declare them to be. Such
conflagrations, I think, can endanger the lives of people only when
the grass is very high and, as sometimes happens, there is additional
brushwood or dried undergrowth. As everybody knows, green, lush
grass is just as little likely to catch fire as water is. But all animals,
both domestic and wild, flee in terror from the smoke and flame of
a prairie fire.

Although the wind was rather high the fire in the dead grass
did not spread any more rapidly forward than I could easily follow
without walking very fast. In facing the fire one finds the smoke
more disagreeable than the flame. The fire was at no point more
than 3 feet in depth. It spread in every direction, more swiftly
where the wind blew hard; for instance, up the hills and slopes, then
descended more gradually on the opposite sides of those heights.

It lingers longer in vales and dells, for it finds more substances
there with which to be replenished, but less that is dry and dead,
as there is less agitation of the atmosphere.

May 1. Little Cheyenne River. We find here also great blocks of
ice caught in the boughs of trees along the shore; they were deposited
there upon the outbreak of the high waters. They melt slowly, on
account of their great size. On the other hand, the grass is coming
out in well-sheltered nooks.

May 2. Great Cheyenne River.

May 38. After much exertion and strain we reached Fort Pierre
this evening. Throughout the day I have seen groups of antelopes
along the shores of the river.

May 4. Have been held fast here at the Fort the livelong day by
a violent storm. Our wooden cabin was broken to pieces, so we
had to put up a tent in its place. We expect warmer weather as we
sail southward. Here we see hardly a sprig of green grass; no
foliage at all; only catkins on the willows. The gale blew with un-
abated fury even until the evening. After sunset a sudden calm,
quite warm weather, and, what is more, mosquitoes. Just at this
time Mr. Picotte is sick.

May 5. Left early. About 10 o’clock we passed Campbell &
Primeau’s new winter trading post. Many Sioux in that section are
suffering from hunger; they are now resorting to horse meat.

We found the abandoned Forts Lookout and Nedeune already in
ruins.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 333

May 6. We set out again by moonlight before the break of day.
Having lost so much time, owing to contrary winds, everybody is
now eager to reach the United States. Mr. Culbertson would lke to
overtake Harvey, who is ahead of us, hastening along the same route
in his skiff. If I did not have to be in such a strain rowing and my
feet were not swelling so much worse for want of exercise I would
be in no hurry at all. During the day we are to make no more stops
but will keep steadily on our course until we are forced by darkness
to the shore. Foliage! No more blocks of ice among the boughs
along the steep river shore. The first whippoorwill ?> and turkeys.

May 7. We overtook Decoteaux, P. Sarpy’s clerk from L’EKau qui
Court, in his long skin boat, and got some fish from him. While
eating supper we passed L’Eau qui Court. I beheld once more that
lovely scene at the mouth of the Basil River. I was sorry the trees
were not in full leaf, as I saw them last summer; but even though
destitute of foliage this is the most beautiful part of the Missouri.

Landry’s departure upset all my calculations. Last year I left with
him two good horses and my entire outfit for the intended journey
to Salt Lake, i. e., wagon, provisions, saddle, harness, etc., to be sold,
in order that I might have on my return some funds at my disposal.
I reckoned on at least $180. He paid me $40, saying he had sent the
remainder in my name to Mr. Mitchell, to whom I was still in debt
for goods I bought. This latter statement I found afterwards to be
a lie. There was nothing I could urge to the contrary; could only
thank my lucky stars that I saw Landry at all. If I had been but
1 or 2 days later I should have lost all my money. My plan was, first
of all, to recover my health; then, if possible, to paint some pictures
which, in addition to my sketches, I might present to the public as
proof of my ability. I could have lived with Landry at very moderate
expense.

On the whole, the shores of the Missouri River reveal little that is
picturesque. Even so, just the realization that this is Indian domain
gives me a pleasurable interest in all scenes along the mighty stream.

May 8. Stopped a while opposite the Isle de Bonhomme, Schlegel’s
new post. Picturesque landing place. Oaks thrown over a wild brook
behind which rise precipitous bluffs.

May 9. In the forenoon we passed Vermilion; later the quarters of
Bruyére, the elder; at 12 o’clock, Sergeants Bluff; about 4 in the
afternoon, wood bluffs with their burning coal fields; at 7 o’clock,
Blackbird’s grave. Foilage is advancing in the forests.

May 10. Big Sioux. We came upon one place in the Missouri so
blocked with snags, both vertical and horizontal, that we could hardly

257 wondered whether the whippoorwill had a cry that resembled the sound of its
name. I am glad to find, therefore, in Audubon’s Ornithologia (VI, p. 350), the real

name of this bird: “Nuttall’s whippoorwill. Cry : Ob—vwill.”

334 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

steer our way through. On the bluffs I saw millions of little swallows
(bank swallow or sand martin, Hirwndo riparis Lin.). First block-
house. Old Council Bluffs. Toward evening we arrived at the first
settlement (Mormons). The Mormons’ ferry above was crowded on
both sides of the river with tents, covered wagons, throngs of people,
and herds of cattle, all bound for New Zion. From one of our oarsmen
I purchased for $5 a very beautiful pelt of a grizzly she-bear; from
another I bought the scalp of a Snake Indian. Slept in this keelboat
for the last time.

May 11. This morning we saw in the distance the funnel of a steam-
boat at the landing where passengers go ashore for the inland settle-
ment of Kanesville. Owing to the position of the boat we saw only
one smokestack ; consequently we took it to be the Utha, Corby’s steam
ferry we were expecting from St. Joseph. There was instantly a
unanimous hurrah by way of greeting; none of us had dared hope
for release from rowing as early as this. We found, however, that it
was the Hloira, a vessel with two smokestacks, that had brought a
great number of Mormons and their vehicles, cattle, household lug-
gage, etc. We thought the captain’s charge for the journey to St.
Louis was too high, so we waited for the S¢. Paul, which we had al-
ready sighted on its way up the river. We could get a more reasonable
rate on the St. Paul. The captain promised to take us aboard at Belle
Vue that evening. Our half-breeds made merry over the “windspiele”,
i. e., the coquetting of pale, tight-laced Mormon women. At Council
Bluffs we found a considerable part of the shore torn away ; my former
boarding house which, when I lived there, stood a hundred feet at least
from the river, was now hanging over the river bank. Had dinner in
Belle Vue with my friends, Decatur, Wacoma, Joseph and Mary La
Fleche,** and Witthae. Witthae expected that I would speak to her,
exchange greetings, etc., but I am not the man to offer my hand once
more to one who had deserted me as she had done.

When I went into the office she followed, hoping to resume our
former relationship. But, showing not the least concern, I read the
Frontier Guardian; Witthae wrapped her blanket about her and went
away, unwilling to give any evidence of her realization that I re-
garded her with contempt. At 4 o’clock we went aboard the St. Paul,
leaving our Mackinaw boat behind. Exchanged souvenirs with De-
catur, “the first man to settle in the future Nebraska territory.” I
gave him one of my necklaces made of bear’s claws and he gave me
a pair of moccasins (?). To Morgan I gave the first scalp I pur-
chased, which he accepted with great merriment as an acknowledg-
ment of his good comradeship.

2°The father and mother of Dr. Francis La Flesche.

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 335

Not long since, I am told, some Oto found, on the Platte, a Prussian
named Mullhausen in a hopeless situation, having with him a wagon
but no team. He is said to be an attendant of Duke Paul of Wurt-
temberg who was banished from court, and, so they say, he was pro-
tecting his Grace’s silverware (?). Meantime, where was the Duke?

May 12. After supper we arrived at St. Joseph. Just 1 year ago
I left this town. High water has done much mischief here also. What
was once the upper landing had to be placed lower down.

May 18. Accompanied Landry 14 miles on horseback to the first
bivouac of his fellow travelers to California.

Saw many picturesque groups of gold diggers with their horses and
herds, lodging for the night in the primeval forest, tents on the prai-
rie, wagon trains along the trail, vehicles that had come to grief,
horses that had run away, riders out in search of them, herds of cat-
tle, droves of laden pack horses and pack mules. There were also
groups of Indians here and there with their begging women, which
gave local color to the scene. My bloated legs became inflamed and
feverish from rubbing against the saddle. Am I to be afflicted again
with dropsy ?

Called to see old friends. Gazed once more with all my former
enthusiasm upon my favorite scene, a far-reaching view over the
Black Snake Hills. Compared past impressions with those of the
present, recalling circumstances under which I viewed this scene upon
my first arrival here in 1848 as compared with today. My future
prospects are anything but favorable if water continues to rise in my
trusty legs. In any event I have to reconcile myself to the fact that
my most excellent constitution is now impaired. I shall therefore be
all the more persevering, perhaps.

My entire collection of Indian weapons, apparel, and ornaments
put in order, left a while in the open air, then packed.

May 21. Left St. Joseph.

May 25. St. Louis. Great heat. When I went in search of the
Virginia Hotel I found it entirely rebuilt and enlarged by the addi-
tion of a new building in course of construction, so that 1t now occu-
pies the entire block. But I was received, to my great delight, by
the same obliging proprietor, J. Sparr von Basel. For the first time
this year I am in a perspiration; this is a very great relief to my
mind, because it is an indication of better health in future. Even
during the time I was engaged in the strenuous exercise of rowing,
while still wearing winter clothes, I never once perspired; I was
never put to the trouble, as the other oarsmen were, of changing my
clothes immediately afterwards. Now, for the purpose of producing
perspiration and of exercising my legs (already swollen to my
thighs), I visit often my beloved Cahokia Creek and enjoy once

336 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

more numerous enchanting groups of trees found there. Though the
stream itself has been converted by the recent high waters into a
quiet lake, in many places entirely choked up with sand, yet I find
there the well-remembered trees.

My excursions at present I make with a more scientific purpose
In view, 1. e., to become acquainted with the names and the character
of various sorts of trees and climbing plants rather than merely to
enjoy their beauty of form.

I am sorry not to be able to find a book in print that would inform
me on this subject. I seek, therefore, to discover through my own
investigation the various trees of the lowlands and of the bluffs;
to distinguish one from another and to find distinctions between
climbing plants, creepers, and parasitic vines. I have found already
thirteen separate kinds of creeping and climbing plants, for the most
part varieties of ivy that are different as to tendrils and manner of
climbing. Of all the high-aspiring sort there is only one, a pinnated
variety, that bears a blossom, a red, bell-shaped flower. This vine
is said to be poisonous. The most luxuriant and manifold forest
growth I saw near Falling Spring, beyond the village of Cahokia,
6 miles from St. Louis. On the cliff out of which this spring gushes
there are found every variety of oak and of wild fruit-bearing trees,
while at its base ash trees and lindens, horse-chestnuts, oak, hickory,
walnut, willow, papaw, cottonwood, poplar, sassafras, sycamore,
locust, persimmon, maple, all meet and touch, embraced and over-
hung by luxuriant vines. Even at first glance one perceives that a
distinctive feature of this woodland is its utter lack of any variety
of conifers. One finds not a trace of the pines that are common to
the Southern States; neither of the cedars that grow in the North,
nor of the firs that are found in the East.

I have been told today of some occurrences but recently come to
pass that truly characterize conditions in this part of the world. A
man involved in debt was mercilessly whipped by two of his credit-
ors. They enticed him by some ruse into the forest, tied a bandage
over his mouth, made him fast to a tree and then, taking turns with
their cowhides, they lashed him until they were tired out from the
exertion of wielding their whips. To rest themselves and renew
their strength they went to the nearest pothouse and drank whisky.
After that invigoration they returned to their labors and applied the
horsewhips anew. As they were proceeding a second time to the
grocery, however, their client was discovered by some one and re-
leased. The two brutes who scourged the poor man were arrested
while still in the grocery.

I heard that Sam Riddle, a rich young business man in Savannah
with whom I am acquainted, had shot down a clerk in a store. Sam,

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ Sat

although he is a married man, is a fast fellow who piques himself
on his wealth and his father’s prominence as Senator. As the story
goes, he gave utterance, not long since, in the presence of some friends
to compromising remarks concerning a lady, a teacher in Savannah.
A young clerk, who was a friend of the lady, heard about those re-
marks and, when Riddle entered the store soon afterwards to see
the proprietor, he was stopped by this clerk and called to account.
Riddle denied having made any such remarks.

The clerk spat upon him and branded him a liar in the presence
of people there. Whereupon Riddle drew a small pistol from his
pocket and shot the clerk down. When brought before the justice
of the peace, the rich young merchant was required to give $25,000
bail and must appear for trial at the next session of the court. Until
the court sits he may go free. Now he is making use of this inter-
vening time to transfer his business interests to his brother-in-law
and, when that is done, he will “shake the dust of Savannah off his
feet.” That is how a wealthy man is enabled to escape the penalty
for a homicidal act; for, if Sam Riddle were not allowed to offer bail,
if he were not able to make good the security demanded, he would
necessarily have been put in the calaboose. He would in all proba-
bility be executed, or else imprisoned for life at Jefferson City. The
purpose of this law, providing that a person accused of a crime may
be released on bail, is to enable the accused to carry on his business,
to work for the support of his family until he is declared guilty by
the court. In like manner if the accused be innocent of the charge,
such procedure averts the injustice of compelling him to spend his
valuable time in prison. But crafty Americans know how to circum-
vent their humane laws in such a way that far more well-to-do crimi-
nals are enabled to escape just penalties by producing bail than poor
men, unjustly accused, are enabled to secure protection, for a poor
man, innocent though he be, derives no benefits from these so-called
“humane” statutes.

Another law is, in similar manner, put to wrong use: If a married
man fails in business the property of his wife or of his children is
never touched by his creditors. Though in principle such a provi-
sion is altogether humane, dissembling, crafty Americans know how
to twist the law to their own advantage. For instance, a merchant
enjoys a period of thriving business; to secure himself from eventual-
ities he buys, whether with good or bad intention, real estate, houses,
bonds, ete., for his wife or his children and has titles made in their
names. Should the man fail in business, quite a usual occurrence in
this part of the world, his creditors are allowed no claims on the
property of his wife or children. In that way a “smart” man can so
manage as to find himself better off after the liquidation of his affairs

338 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

than before. One of the best hotel proprietors here lives in the hotel
that he bought and gave to his wife, then stopped payment on remain-
ing debts. A pile iee ren can Polley the same practice in the retail
trade. With cash that he takes in he purchases an excellent farm in
his wife’s name and pays for it, while he refuses to pay for his stock
of goods that he had bought on credit. Likewise, a great deal of
mischief is done in the matter of fire insurance. For example, a
merchant, conducting what is called a “fancy-dress” store, divides his
stock into summer goods and winter goods.

When he has disposed of most of one season’s stock (which he can
always accomplish by reducing prices), and the time is approaching
when, in order to get a new supply, he has to pay for the summer or
winter goods, as the case may be, that he purchased on credit in New
York, on a Sunday, when all stores, including his own place of busi-
ness, are closed, by some means absolutely inexplicable his shop burns
down. But the sly tradesman had not neglected to insure his stock at
its full value. He “burns out.” Now he has in his possession cash
received in return for the goods sold and, in addition, insurance to
the full value of his entire stock purchased but the greater part of
which has been sold. Furthermore, he buys at auction, for little or
nothing, his former goods now damaged by fire or water; he insures
these again and reaps still another profit in the sale of them. Follow-
ing such a course, shopkeepers of that sort are enabled to grow very
rapidly rich; after he “burns out” three or four times he has a hand-
some sum, for he will satisfy his creditors with the amount of insur-
ance received. I knew just such a man, a German in St, Louis, who
was burned out twice during my first stay in that city; the fire always
occurred toward springtime or autumn, always on Sunday. Upon
the occasion of the great fire in 1848, when 26 steamboats, together
with the buildings comprising several streets were destroyed, he
burned out again, although his stock of summer goods had but re-
cently been received at his shop.

The same trick is played in the shipping business: when a boat has
been in service for 6 or 7 years the insurance costs amount to more
than the vessel is worth; therefore it is thought to belong in the
rubbish heap as scrap iron.

So the captain lets it run aground, sink, or burn up; then, laugh-
ing in the face of the victims, his passengers, he turns his back and
collects insurance. Further instances would be superfluous to prove
that Americans observe their own laws only insofar as the case in
hand concerns them or that the written statutes are supremely ex-
cellent from the standpoint of humanity, high moral standards, and
freedom of the individual; but in the actual observance of these laws,
well, that is a different matter altogether. Proofs are by no means

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 339

lacking. There is a law in Missouri forbidding the game of nine-
pins, or to use the American expression, ninepin alleys. How do
the “smart” Missourians manage? They construct their ninepin
alley for tenpins. The city corporation not only allows this but are
glad to find that means to raise taxes. Likewise, gambling houses
are strictly forbidden; nevertheless, are quite frequently found; they
yield large profits and afford another source from which, through
pecuniary penalties imposed, the city authorities get money for
taxes—so much for the first offense, double that amount for the sec-
ond, etc. But they do not adopt measures to get rid of gaming
houses. In the United States every witness, every interpreter is re-
quired to swear upon the Bible in the presence of the court that he
will speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The judge does not ask the man who takes the oath whether he
believes the Bible; in the United States that is taken for granted. A
set form of oath is read, or pronounced, and the man to whom the
oath is administered raises the Bible, not infrequently a much soiled
volume, to his lips and kisses the Book (since no one ever takes the
trouble to turn the leaves, it might be some other book). Now any
person who has no belief in the Bible does not burden his conscience
to any appreciable degree by taking the oath. However, the most
significant instance of the Americans’ hypocrisy is their declaration
that all men are free and equal; the statement is not to the effect
that only white men in America are equal in the eye of the law, but,
on the contrary, all people without exception. Yet Americans grant
no civil rights to slaves they own, nor do they allow an Indian to
enjoy the privileges of a citizen.

In conclusion I will say that the undeserved fate of the “Art
Union” reveals much as to the culture of Americans. Owing to an
unexpected increase in the membership of that American art society
and the greater amount of money available in New York, I was in
high hopes, as I journeyed thither from St. Louis, of offering one of
my works for sale and thereby making myself known. Members of
the society pay an annual fee of $5, and receive in return each year
at least one beautiful engraving, a copy of one of the pictures pur-
chased by the “Art Union.” ‘The paintings bought they put on ex-
hibition in New York and raffle them under the supervision of the
committee.

From the net proceeds realized yearly upon raffling off these draw-
ings and paintings they have the expectation, or rather they had,
of obtaining from the lot at least one production of art. That most
pious of States, however, brought action against that raffling of
pictures as an unlawful lottery. A bill was introduced and put
through the New York legislature. Raffling pictures was declared

340 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

immoral and illegal; hence, was prohibited. The “Union” was
therefore forced to abandon their fine and praiseworthy aim.

Finally, what is the antiliquor law? With the resulting financial
ruin of many Germans who carry on retail business in wine and
strong drinks, this small trade is forbidden, or at least restricted to
certain quantities, i. e., from 380 to 50 gallons. On the other hand,
any one who is able to provide himself with that quantity may
drink as much as he likes in his own house, under the pretense of
using the liquor for medicinal purposes.

On the cliff above this hidden fountain called Falling Spring one
may enjoy a splendid far-reaching view in the direction of St. Louis.
Along the entire way from Falling Spring to Illinois Town, where
the steam ferryboats land, one views continually most charming
landscapes enlivened by white and gray herons (great white heron,
Ardea occidentalis Aud.; great blue heron, Ardea herodias Linn.).
The season for passenger pigeons (£ctopistes migratoria Aud.) was
already over. Not less interesting are the old blockhouses of the
Creoles; Cahokia or the former Notre Dame de Caho[kia] (known
especially in connection with R. Clark’s raid in 1778) dates back to
the first French settlements and therefore is much older than St.
Louis. There tiny barracks are constructed of tree trunks fixed
firmly in the ground in a vertical position, not laid horizontally and
fitted together at the corners like American blockhouses. Adjoin-
ing these small lodges always lie pleasant gardens. That is some-
thing one never sees at the homes of American farmers in the West:
anything that does not bring in money is regarded by the farmers
as a luxury; only in the matter of Sunday clothes do they permit
the least display.

When I learned that the position of drawing master at the Jesuit
College was to be filled I went to see Pére de Smet.

I was kindly received, but my application for the vacant position
was deferred, on account of my belief or, what is much more likely,
my unbelief. When Heaven grants such proof of Divine mercy and
power as was manifested in this pious father I have no longer any
doubts. It happened on an earlier journey to the Nez Percé, when
Pére de Smet wished to enter the harbor at San Francisco on board
2 ship that was overtaken by such a violent and perilous tempest
that everyone thought all was over. Then this missionary, having
faith in God, fell upon his knees, there on the deck, prayed fervently
for Divine aid and, lo! the wind fell, the roaring waves no longer
lashed the terror-stricken crew.

Before a month had passed, without my having been notified, ac-
cording to the father’s promise, when the examination would be
held, the position at the college was filled and, I may add, by the

Kurz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 341

appointment of a German architect, an acquaintance of mine. That
post would have paid me about $900 a year.

Upon another jaunt up Cahokia Creek on the small lakes near
the Indian mounds (burial mounds?) I was delighted to find the
well-known water lily and some sedge (no reeds) ; I have never seen
either on the Missouri or the Mississippi. In place of the latter I
found tall sea grass and wild oats.?”. Our stinging nettle I have not
found at all. Nowhere have I seen any green moss, either on trees
or on the ground.

As far as I have traveled on the Missouri and the Mississippi I
have never seen beeches anywhere; but beech trees grow in the
State of Indiana and farther east.

May 28. A small menagerie made up of one pair of old grizzly
bears brought from California, three younger members of the bear
family, varying in age, and a cougar, gave me welcome models for
study. The old bears are of a bright chocolate color, not of different
hues and shades like bears on the Missouri.

_ August 2. By taking long walks every day this hot weather I
have succeeded in reducing gradually the water in my legs without
further treatment. I feel greatly relieved in mind to be delivered
from this threat of dropsy. It would be really very hard to depart
this life just when I have come to the end of my period of study and
have reached the point where I shall be able to begin creative work
in my art; when life has in store so much that is gratifying and
pleasurable, much that will compensate me for difficulties undergone.

As I now dare assume that my studies are sufficiently thorough and
comprehensive to justify my executing paintings true to life, yet in
aesthetic manner, representing scenes in the Far West (characteristic
of life there in former days rather than at present), and as I am
offered no better outlook for earning my bread as artist in St. Louis
than in any of the other new States, owing to the prevailing lack of
interest in painting, I must, though with heavy heart, dispose of a
large part of my Indian collection in order to get money enough to
travel to New York or to Paris, where I hope to find more
encouraging prospects.

To force myself to abandon art merely for the sake of making a
longer stay in this region possible by earning my living painting
houses, ships, and mural decorations, or by undertaking once more
the duties of merchant’s clerk, is an outlook I cannot contemplate;
my harsh experience in business transactions, heretofore, make such
a plan all the more distasteful. Furthermore, my chances for suc-
cess are better in Europe than in this country and, finally, I regard
my collection of studies sufficiently comprehensive to render a longer

*7 Wild rice.

342 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

stay, in straitened circumstances, unnecessary. After severe mental
conflict I decided to part with a large portion of my valuable col-
lection in order to get funds to travel east. Before I let it go out
of my possession I made copies of the objects included, so that I
might rescue at least that much for myself. It was extremely pain-
ful to give up my Indian relics; my heart was so set upon them;
I had submitted to so many deprivations for the sake of possessing
a collection, as complete as possible, of Indian apparel, weapons, and
ornaments. But this is my fatal destiny: I have only to set my
heart upon something and, straightway, I am destined to loss. So
it was with my collection of engravings, with my love affairs, with
my horses. That is the fate allotted to one to whom true, enduring
affection is a need; to whom inconstancy and unfaithfulness is
shocking.

Truly the few joys of my life have been dearly bought. I am
exasperated by such strokes of fate; I might curse my life. Woe
unto me if I am to abandon my last hope, chief support of my ex-
istence, the ideal toward which I strive in art. Then I should either
throw away my life in disgust or else my unruly nature, no longer
softened by contemplation of lofty thoughts, would exhaust itself
in bitterness, mockery, and rage. What is life to me without art?
What is art without an ideal? Is death to be my one and only
consolation ?

If I had thought for one moment that I should not have been in a
position to earn an independent livelihood as artist within a year’s
time I would have remained in St. Louis, even as house painter or
clerk, and then could have kept my much-prized collection of Indian
relics. But I cherished too great hopes. As friend of the redskins
I was not able to make heroes of Indians among the Americans,
therefore had little hope of success in the United States. I should
not have appeared in Europe, after such a journey, with only studies
and sketches, but with finished paintings also, and executed in a
manner to produce the best effect. But up to that time I had devoted
myself more to study than to compositions with a view to harmony
and effect. I felt, therefore, that I must attain definite results in
that.

To accomplish my purpose was all the more difficult because of
an attack of ague from which I was long recovering, and for the
further reason that I was retarded by the necessity of earning a
livelihood here in Berne, where, as in all Switzerland, there was
too little appreciation of my genre to keep up my spirits. But for
the frustration of my plans by Landry in St. Joseph I should have
been successful. With my excellent collection of Indian relics and
a number of beautiful paintings representing the principal wild
animals that roam the western plains, as well as Indians of the dif-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 343

~ ferent tribes, treated from an ethnological viewpoint, I should cer-
tainly have made money as “showman” in those cities, particularly
where many Europeans reside. In St. Louis, however, my first con-
cern was to get rid of the water in my legs. When I was relieved
of those symptoms of dropsy I had not enough money to insure
several months’ leisure and peace of mind during which I might
devote myself to the execution of those paintings. For a while, to
be sure, I had hopes of being able to fight my way by means of my
artistic labors; in other words, I knew a man in the Schultze firm,
dealing in books and articles of virtu, who gave me an order for
several views of St. Louis and environs. But this man proved to be
so little trustworthy that I had to abandon the idea of doing the
work for him.

August 9. Returned today from a visit to Highland. Before I
leave this land, perhaps forever, I wished to pay a visit to my ac-
quaintances there, but above all to set foot on that farm where, in
1834, I was to begin a totally different career with Doctor Becksel.
But for the religious scruples of my dear mother I should in all
probability be a farmer now, for at that period many favorite pur-
suits were struggling for predominance in my mind. In my six-
teenth year, it is true, love of painting was already gaining the
mastery over me, but had not yet become a passion. At the time
of which I speak, agricultural pursuits, particularly the breeding of
horses and cattle, would have satisfied me. If I had been accus-
tomed while young to the climate here and to the manner of cul-
tivating land in this part of the world I should have become prac-
tical. I might have been a happy farmer, owning numerous herds,
fine horses, to say nothing of a family more or less numerous. Now
I am an artist, oftentimes indescribably happy, but only too often
poverty-stricken, lonely, and peevish. I might yet change my
career; I might yet become a farmer. To abandon art now, at the
moment when my hopes of success seem more promising than ever
before; now, when I have found my ideal, when my enthusiasm was
never so keen—impossible !

I wish to determine the question whether every man is to choose
his life work according to the measure of his gifts; whether the
spiritual and mental development of man is of no more lofty aim than
his physical well-being; whether we are meant to be only sons of
nature like the Indians or destined to strive for a higher state of civili-
zation. On the solution of those questions I stake my life. Whether
I was right to try and make the most of my talents, only the future,
perhaps death, will first make clear to me.

There were two routes by which I might travel to New York, both
new to me, both equally interesting; the one up the Illinois River by
way of Peoria to Chicago, thence across Lake Michigan through the

816343723

344. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

State of Michigan, Lake Erie to Buffalo, Niagara Falls, Albany, and
down the Hudson; the other down the Mississippi to Cairo, up the
Ohio to Cincinnati, by the new railway through the State of Ohio to
Cleveland, situated on Lake Erie, and so on. As complaints came in
from all sides about the low water level in the rivers I decided to go
by stage (a private enterprise) to Louisville. I paid a fare of only
$12; my luggage, still considerable, was carried free. At 4 o’clock in
the morning on August 11 the stagecoach stopped at the hotel for me;
we crossed the river and proceeded rapidly across the plains of Ilinois.
With heavy heart I took leave of the Mississippi, of Cahokia. Even
on the first night we had an accident, but with no resulting damage.

At a place where the road ran through a deep cut a bolt sprang out,
detaching the swingletree bar, in consequence of which the horses tried
to hurry on with that alone and leave the coach with us inside stick-
ing in the mud. If the coachman had not been so securely strapped
to the seat he would have been jerked to the ground. But, as good
luck would have it, he had a sufficient hold to stop the horses short
with the driving reins. He shouted to us to get out of the coach.
Fortunately a few more passengers had just got in, so there was a
sufficient number of us to be of immediate assistance. We held the
horses until the driver could descend from the box and tether them to
a near-by fence. Then we had to bring rails from the same fence
and raise the vehicle out of the mud. To attach the swingletree bar
again, replace the bolt, and hitch the horses was then an easy matter.
From Salem, where we arrived the second night, I was the sole pas-
senger all the way to Vincennes. On that night, while we were try-
ing to cross the little Wabash over a very unsafe bridge, I had to
mount to the coachman’s box and again lend my aid to keep the mettle-
some grays in hand while the coachman went back and took away
some planks from the floor of that part of the bridge we had passed
over and laid them over holes and fissures in the remaining part we
had yet to cross. My experience in the management of a four-in-
hand stood me then in good stead, for the spirited animals, seeing the
river below through crevices in the floor of the bridge, became all
the more restive.

August 13. Approaching Vincennes, we came to a kind of ferry
hitherto unknown to me. For instance, our boat was not propelled
through the stream by a rope suspended across the river and fastened
by means of a ring to a tug, but instead of the tug there were
fastened together several small rowboats, placed at certain dis-
tances apart in the slow-moving current. The boat at the extreme
upper end was made secure at a bend of the river where the cur-
rent was sufficiently strong to produce the desired propelling force
but, as a matter of course, the assistance of oars was necessary. In
Vincennes I had to wait an entire half day for another stage-

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RURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 345

coach. I found, however, that the surroundings, from a historical
point of view, were interesting. Along the river one sees there still
several buildings constructed on piles, which date from the earliest
American settlements. They are situated near the former residence
of General Harrison.

August 14. On the way to Bleansville we traveled through the
first beech wood I have seen. At the place mentioned we made our
midday halt and took the railway train from there to Louisville.
On the way a rascally fellow who tried to force his passage was run
over. At evening we crossed the Ohio River and were soon after
in Louisville, where I spent the night.

August 15. The next morning I went by steamboat up the Ohio
to Cincinnati.

As the next day was Sunday it was impossible to proceed farther
by railway, so I made use of the time to see something of the city.
There are large brick church buildings in Gothic style; from a belve-
dere one may enjoy a beautiful view of the city, the river with its
many steamboats at the wharf, the surrounding hills, and over into
Kentucky. At the hotel I was amused by the way in which the
jovial black waiters formed their lines, simultaneously stacked the
dishes, made a complete “about face” and stiffly keeping step, marched
off, to return again at once with other dishes and, without a word,
repeat the maneuver with exactly the same movement.

August 16. I went to the new railway station in a heavy downpour
of rain, and continued my journey across the entire State of Ohio to
Cleveland, traveling on a comfortable fast train that made few stops.
Among the passengers I found Bruyére from Fort Union. He was
journeying to Canada, where he wished to spend some time on a visit.
Arrived in Cleveland at 5:30 o’clock in the evening, was immediately
transferred to a lake boat under full steam and traveled the whole
night through, down Lake Erie to Buffalo,

August 17. It was my intention to make an excursion from Buffalo
to Niagara Falls, but upon our arrival there was such godless con-
fusion: every fellow, whether he had a fiacre ** or whether he hadn’t,
whether his services were asked for or not, grabbed at once for
bags, satchels, or trunks, one of them running this way, another
running that way, forcing the traveler along too, but in so doing
forcing him to risk losing the greater part of his luggage, as was
probably designed.

Although a watchman was there to keep order, he was by no
means a match for that throng of loafers; they could easily push
him aside. I had to resort to a downright tussle with one rascal
before I could make him leave my trunk where it was, so that it

283A hackney coach.

346 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

would not go to the devil, while another fellow was already lugging
my bundle of buffalo robes into a dray. Besides, owing to my recent
departure from the Mississippi and the West with all my pleasant
associations there, I was already in dejected mood, and became so
exasperated by that unheard-of disorder that I was not in the least
disposed to gaze in wonder on Niagara Falls. I hurried back at
once to the railway train leaving for Albany. Not until I was eat-
ing my midday meal at Utica, where I was gladdened by the glimpse
of a lovely girl, did my outraged feelings become calm. Every-
thing was conducted with perfect order on that train. Late in the
evening I arrived in Albany, where my luggage was surrendered
upon my giving back copper checks. I took a cab at once to the
Hudson River to get aboard the night boat to the city of New York.

Arrived at 5 o’clock this morning. With a letter of introduction
from Herr Mehlgarten, to whom I sold a part of my Indian collec-
tion for $150, I went to call on Herr Meyer von Hilburghausen, who
publishes the American edition of Meyer’s Universum, in order to
find whether he could use some of my drawings in that publication.
He was sorry, he said, that he could not enter into an agreement to
that end; the drawings he would need were already provided for 2
years in advance, some of them on terms for immediate acceptance,
the remainder on order. He communicated to me, furthermore, the
most unwelcome news of legal proceedings against the Art Union.
However, he bought two water colors that I had not been able to
dispose of in St. Louis. Then I came at once to the conclusion that
I would better take passage at the earliest possible date for Havre.
I was further influenced in my decision by the fact that, notwith-
standing the intense summer heat, I was always cold—a condition
indicating an approaching illness, I feared.

On August 20 I secured a place, on the payment of $20, as steerage
passenger on the Sam Fow. On the 24th I purchased my provisions
for the journey, so as to be ready to sail the same evening. At the
moment the boat was clearing the dock I was seized with an attack
of vomiting, while perspiration oozed from my body; so, while de-
parting from the shores of America, I lay among my buffalo robes,
only half-conscious. Nor did sea air prove the benefit hoped for;
on the contrary, my fever mounted and seasickness did not fail to
make matters worse. Such violent fever so affected my salivary
glands that I was unable to swallow any solid food; my fine crackers
remained just so much dry meal. I could not eat them.

So, during the entire voyage of 30 days, I was restricted to food I
could take in liquid form. Nobody, not even the captain, had any
quinine. It was lucky for me that the steerage passengers numbered
only 30 persons; for I was therefore enabled to have sufficient space
and fresh air to endure steerage conditions. Upon closer acquaintance

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 347

with my fellow voyagers I found two young Germans from Boden
See. I was much pleased with their manner of conducting themselves,
and, perceiving that they were not very well provided with food for
the voyage, I thought I might be helpful to them as well as to myself
by giving them supplies of dried beef, ham, and crackers from my
supplies, since I could use only the tea and coffee. In return, they
prepared a broth for me twice a day with some of their meal. That
was my only nutriment during the entire voyage. I arrived at Havre
half-starved, emaciated, and weak.

My companions in the steerage were, for the most part, persons
who “had enough of America” and several Frenchmen who had ac-
quired some means in California. The two young Germans had trav-
eled in company with other people they knew to Cleveland; one of
them, having lost his young wife during the plague of cholera, wished
to return home at his earliest opportunity; his friend was unwilling
to remain in America without him.

A young landscape painter from Basle had an idea that he would
be able to lead a jolly life in America without any great amount of
work, wherein he found himself soon enough mistaken.

“Tf I choose to work so hard”, he said, “I can live much better at
home.”

A Jew from Zurzach had but just arrived in New York, where a
brother of his was already established; but things appealed to him so
little he decided to return home at once. That fellow amused us
greatly. Well supplied by his brother with fresh butter and eggs, he
did nothing else during the whole first week but cook, and most
kindly invited to share his meals a Jewess from Mulhausen who had
come on board bringing nothing at all to eat. The girl accepted
promptly her fellow-believer’s invitation; she must have counted on
forming a good partnership, besides. From that time on, those two
were very much teased and tormented by the others; all the more so
when, on account of throat disease, his otherwise attractive young lady
friend became more and more disgusting to him as his store of provi-
sions decreased. During our last week at sea he had no food at all
left to sustain him. He remained lying on his bed and daily drew in
his belt. Some rollicking fellows would toss potatoes to him in deri-
sion, but he was rarely given anything to eat except in some such
spirit of merrymaking over his fierce hunger.

There was also an old retired soldier from the canton of Lucerne
who caused me much mortification. He had made arrangements with
the captain to assist the ship’s crew in return for his passage and
board. One of his duties was to assist the sailors every morning in
scouring the decks. As soon as he was once out to sea he refused
obstinately to do that work. The captain could not put him off the
ship unless he threw him overboard, but he issued orders that the

348 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [ BULL. 115

old man was to be given nothing to eat. Now, this person had made
his first passage over with money provided by his parish in order
to get rid of him. That he was unwilling to work showed a trait
by no means unusual among our old soldiers discharged from foreign
service. In truth, the chief benefit Switzerland derives from her
citizens’ military service in foreign lands is that only those averse
to labor are attracted to that life (aside from the anomaly of repub-
licans entering the service of foreign despots who oppress their sub-
jects). As this old soldier showed a like aversion to work, our
consul at Havre could not concern himself about the matter but had
to send him back home at the expense of the canton of Lucerne or
of his parish. That is what we get by assisting the proletariat to
emigrate. Who can compel them to remain or, indeed, as one often
hears mentioned, to found a Swiss colony anywhere in America?
Citizens of Switzerland they wish ever to remain, supported by their
native country.

They do not care to transfer their loyalty to a new fatherland.
A man cannot serve two masters. Tradespeople, doctors, artists may
go to foreign parts to seek their fortune and then return, but the
peasant, when he owns land, can seldom follow that course without
great losses. The Swiss are fond of travel, it is true; but the gift
North Americans have of making themselves at home anywhere in
the world as soon as they begin to acquire wealth, irrespective of
their attachment to the soil or of loyalty to the region, is rarely found
among natives of Switzerland. That explains why the Swiss are
given to nostalgia, which becomes particularly severe when things
go ill with them and lead them to reflect upon the good old days.
In this modern time a new colonist has to burn his bridges behind
him, has to cut off every means of retreat; in order to go forward he
must not look back, for even the poorest people in Switzerland have
their advantages, their good times, and abandon unwillingly their
strolling life, while the laboring classes in our country enjoy a free-
dom they would find no opportunity to enjoy anywhere in the United
States, still less in a colony newly founded. But the principal diffi-
culty with Swiss colonists is that they may not be forced to work
and fulfill agreements they have entered upon, for there is no army
in command; any man may go away, nay, what is more, he may
again return.

September 22. Havre. To recover from fever and regain my
vigor, taking in consideration, besides, that I had little money left,
I had no other recourse but to proceed at once to my home, where
I arrived on the 24th, unexpected by my family. To earn my live-
lihood as artist in Berne. Alas! What a prospect.

APPENDIX

To be able to estimate properly in just how far the Indians are
capable of mental development we must consider them, first of all,
in their primitive state, and then after their contact with Euro-
peans. In that way we shall understand the cause of development
in general and the degree of cultivation to which Indians themselves
can attain without the aid of foreign assistance as well as the reason
why they have retrograded rather than advanced since their con-
tact with European civilization.

The lowest form of human being among the North American
Indians inhabited that extensive tract of arid land between the
Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada, in the neighborhood of
Salt Lake. Only in the matter of speech did they rank above the
lower animals. They were forced to live on roots and locusts, with
an occasional hare or other larger animal; for in the sterile region
where they dwelt there was hardly any vegetation except worm-
wood, which, when dried, furnished their only fuel. The barren
tracts were equally destitute of the larger wild beasts. There the
root diggers lived, like an exiled race, despised by their better-
conditioned neighbors.

A slightly higher type of human species were the coast dwellers
of California. Their bodies, well nourished on fish, reached full
development. However, they could no more provide clothing for
themselves from the fish of the sea than could the root diggers from
the locusts on their sun-scorched plains; consequently they became
so inured to the elements that they scorned any covering whatsoever.

But, notwithstanding their readiness to brave the weather, they
were so full of mettle that more than once they stood their ground
in single combat against the better-armed Spaniards.

The prairie Indian stands much higher in the scale of human
development than those mentioned above. On the vast grass plains
he steals upon wild beasts and ensnares those that provide him with
sufficient food, clothing, and fuel. To accomplish that on the open
prairie requires cunning: To entrap a shy creature like the antelope
or bison under a disguise made up of wolf’s skin or bison’s hide and
the head of a stag marks a distinct advance in the intelligence of the
hunter. Moreover, in mountain ravines as well as in the thick under-
growth of the forests that are found only near rivers and brooks,
he is obliged to bring all his ingenuity into play to take by surprise

349

350 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

the different species of deer and stag found in such numbers in
those places without falling a prey himself to the formidable grizzly
bear or other enemies even more merciless.

As the immense number of buffalo or bison makes any attempt
to domesticate the animals a useless undertaking, the hunter is
obliged to follow the wandering herds, taking with him his tent
of skins and his household belongings, including always his strong
wolfhound. In late summer, when the “cattle” are in best condition,
he tries to confine an entire herd in so-called parks, slaughters as
many as he finds necessary, and cures large narrow strips of meat
in the sun. He then packs the fat in bladders for use during the
winter.

The only service that the Indians render for the benefit of the herds
is to burn the dried grass every spring in order that the young crop
will be more abundant.

Inasmuch as roaming about alone is both dangerous and dull, as
many members of a tribe as can be comfortable together unite and
form a settlement. As the provisioning of a small community is a
less difficult task, and their frequent removals upon the prairies are
more easily effected, the villages or camps are rarely of considerable
size. If the huntsman has procured sufficient provisions for a time
he gives himself up to social pleasures in camp, such as smoking to-
bacco, talking over past experiences, relating stories and traditions,
performing gymnastic exercises, dancing, getting ready new weapons;
or else he goes on the warpath to win distinction for himself as brave.
The womenfolk are left to their common household employment.
They make all the clothes, including the ornamentation of them; they
supply also their earthen cooking utensils and prepare skins and
hides. The last-named duty is the most difficult of all; consequently,
to facilitate that work, since there are neither slaves, servants, nor
craftsmen among the Indians, the huntsman keeps several wives. To
prevent petty jealousies and quarrels among his squaws he prefers to
marry sisters. To obtain them he presents gifts to his future parents-
in-law; in other words, he purchases his helpmates.

The highest aim of an Indian brave is glory in war; accordingly
there is perpetual hostility among the different tribes. His method
of warfare is nothing more than a well-planned hunt; any sort of
stratagem is permissible.

But as the Indian brave places more importance upon single combat
than upon a deadly distant attack, the mere fact of his having touched
his enemy ranks as a greater deed of valor than killing a person from
a distance; hence the practice of scalping. The scalp is indisputable
proof that he has come in personal contact with the enemy and serves
him as trophy. Since he scalps a living person only in the rarest

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 301

instances he is not guilty of such an act of cruelty as is usually be-
lieved. For every scalp taken the warrior is allowed an eagle feather
to adorn his head; in recognition of every such “coup” he is entitled
to have an eagle feather blazoned, Indian fashion, on his robe. The
number of eagle feathers worn designates the rank of the brave. The
one who takes the greatest number of scalps becomes leader or chief
of his band. On the other hand, the chief who is able to assemble
the largest number of tents about him is regarded the greatest chief
of that nation. Therefore this dignity is not only not hereditary but
depends also upon the brave’s fortunes in war. Nor does valor alone
win such high respect. The brave who wishes to be exalted among
his people must be liberal. Without largesse he will have no followers.
The number of gifts bestowed he is also allowed to have represented
on his robe.

Here we find the beginning of the representative arts among the
Indians. Apart from his great liking for pompous show, for orna-
mentation, in connection with which one must mention tattoo marks,
the Indian’s principal aim in decoration is colored outlines or con-
tours; the human figure is only a secondary matter.

Therefore, though no one can deny that the Indian has artistic
sense, from time out of mind he has made no advance in his art.
His manner is stereotyped—hallowed, so to speak, through the ages—
like heraldry. Wampum belts serve ali the better to call to mind the
most important events of the present and of past times.

The bringing up of boys consists entirely in training capable
huntsmen for the support of future families and distinguished war-
riors for the glory of the nation. Young Indians, hardly past the age
of boys, subject themselves willingly to severe fasting and cruel tor-
ture. They must learn to endure any pain heroically, so that even
as captives at the stake they can jeer at their enemies and prove by
singing under torture their persecutors’ impotence to cause them
pain. Only by valor and undaunted courage can they gain their
Elysium. Torture inflicted on an enemy, therefore, is not merely
for the sake of being cruel, but has the further purpose of testing in
a “trial by fire” his steadfastness under pain. The Indian faces
death calmly, yea, with joy, for with the close of earthly life all his
troubles end, while the future abode of his soul offers him the ful-
fillment of all desires. In addition to the qualities of courage, cun-
ning, and liberality, the gift of oratory is very highly prized and
fostered among Indians. Next to this talent for speaking, the trait
of keeping silent is most valued, for the reason that an ill-advised
remark may possibly at some time or other put one’s life in peril.

Girls are brought up to be good mothers and industrious house-
wives. Children are dearly loved by their parents. The future In-

352 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL 115

dian brave is never flogged. His sense of honor is developed early
in life. On the other hand, parents are loved and respected by their
children, yet it not infrequently happens when they are journeying
to a distant destination with little means of transportation that
decrepit old people are left behind, forsaken.

The goal set for both sexes, differing according to the nature of
each, is one that can be attained. Though believing in a life to come,
they love and work for their human welfare and enjoy this life to
the full. To make their earthly existence a hell, in order to gain
after death a still uncertain future bliss, is not acceptable to their
distinctly practical sense. To lay down vital principles and yet fail
to observe them is just as much opposed to the Indian’s way of
thinking; he lives in strict accord with the views handed down to
him from his ancestors; he gives no promise of wishing to be better
than he can be according to his nature. Because he thinks that wag-
ing a constant conflict with his nature is repugnant to common sense,
he is designated the natural man in contradistinction to civilized
people. Still, the Indian knows full well how to master his human
desires, when in yielding to them he would run counter to the inter-
est of those dearest to him or to the recognized usages of his tribe.
Civilized man is supposed to develop only his spiritual powers and
suppress his animal nature, except when he has not sufficient money
to get married.

In social intercourse the so-called savage may serve as a model
for civilized society in this respect, that he neither indulges in dis-
putes and arguments, using vulgar terms of abuse, nor in brutal
fights. On the contrary, he guards against any offense of that sort,
because among the Indians every insult is followed by bloodshed;
therefore he provokes his adversary only when he is of a mind to
enter upon a struggle for life or death. To pocket an affront is to
be guilty of cowardice. In such emergencies it is permissible that
the weaker antagonist resort to stratagem.

Although the prairie huntsman is familiar with the cultivation of
native Indian corn and other cereals, a tribe turns to that employ-
ment only when, owing to the greatly reduced number of braves, it is
no longer safe to wander about and make head against opposing foes
in the open field and, therefore, is forced to establish a village and
settle down.

As contrasted with the prairie Indian, the red man of the forests,
owing to conditions in that part of the country which he inhabits,
may be considered of a somewhat higher order of human being.
Westward from the Mississippi, extending beyond the Rocky Moun-
tains even to the Pacific coast, the region is predominantly prairie,
abounding in grass, weeds, flowers, and sand, but usually, for want

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 353

of sufficient water, not capable of cultivation. East of the Father of
Waters, on the other hand, the land, with but few exceptions, is
covered with dense primeval woods.

Owing to this difference in the vegetation of his domain, therefore,
the Indian of the East follows necessarily a different mode of life
from that of his western neighbor. It is true that wild game is
plentiful in the boundless woods, yet the animals do not exist in such
numbers nor are large herds so frequent as to furnish continually a
sufficient supply of food. Though the hunter on the chase in a forest
finds less difficulty in approaching wild beasts than on the open
prairie, he has also this disadvantage, that his game more easily con-
ceal themselves and more quickly escape his eye. So in North Amer-
ica, where there are fewer trees of the fruit-bearing sort than in
South America, the Indian of the forests finds it necessary to till
the soil. In his part of the country the land is adapted to the culti-
vation of nutritive products, such as Indian corn, potatoes, beans,
peas, turnips, etc.

The brave, always true to his inborn character, prefers war and
the chase to the hoe and gives over the labors of the field almost al-
together to the female sex. With the cultivation of the land there
comes of itself a more settled habitation, more comfortable dwellings,
and in consequence a stronger attachment to country (expressed
_symbolically in “graves of his forefathers”) than one finds among
the prairie huntsmen. The latter do not bury their dead, but leave
them temporarily in the air on a scaffold and, at best, gather the
bones and carry them along on their wanderings. The Indians of
the forest bury their dead in the ground; usually the body is placed in
a squatting position with face turned toward the east and interred
with similar ceremonies of lamentation, discourse, food portion, and
weapons.

In affairs of state the eastern tribes follow a different custom with
regard to the office of chief, which is hereditary and inseparable from
their system of revenue. The succession may revert to the female
line; that is, to the son of the deceased chief’s eldest sister; but in
every case it must be ratified by the nation. Apparel and imple-
ments are pretty much the same as among the prairie tribes, except
that canoes made of the bark of trees or hollowed out of a tree trunk
replace the troughlike, portable skin boats used by the western
huntsmen.

By way of transition I will mention also the former inhabitants
of Cibola in New Mexico, and the nameless Mound Builders in the
Ohio Valley. The former, when they occupied the “Casas Grandes”,
distinguished themselves by their peculiar manner of building cities
and in their cultivation of cotton and manufacture of cotton mate-

354 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 115

rials. Their dwellings were constructed, and are still, when occu-
pied by Apache and Navaho, inside a great encircling wall 40 feet
high. They were built of sun-dried brick and consisted of several
stories, the upper stories projecting so far over those below that a
broad passageway was left as a means of communication. Access
was had to the different stories by means of movable ladders. Gates
admitted the city dwellers to the surrounding fields where their
crops were planted. The stag and the hart they had in large num-
bers, but the bison, owing to the warm climate, was not native there.
The latter, however, existed in multitudes to the north of them in a
region not too remote.

Defensive warfare with stones and arrows was easily conducted
from the flat roofs of their adobe houses. Their provisions were
stored in oven-shaped cellars. The women were skilled in weaving
and kept a great supply of handkerchiefs and mantles. The Apache
and Navaho claim to be related tribes to the Aztec, and have pre-
served, even to most recent times, the same style of dress and the
same kind of weapons that were in use among the latter. As the
most of the “Casas Grandes” now lie in ruins it has been erroneously
assumed that the Aztec might have occupied them before the arrival
of the former tribes and have destroyed them when they wandered
farther south. Near the close of the sixteenth century, however, the
first Spanish explorers found them densely populated, and it was
those avaricious Spaniards themselves who, after many years of con-
flict, destroyed the towns, just as at a later time the Indians avenged
themselves by wiping out the Spanish settlements in turn.

I must now mention briefly the early inhabitants of the Ohio
Valley, who, for want of a historical name, are called Mound Build-
ers, because of the tumuli they left behind them. Judging from the
remnants they have left of their buildings and utensils, they attained
to a far higher degree of civilization than any other North American
tribe. They worked in copper. The pipe bowls that they wrought
in the form of human heads were excellent; so were their figures of
animals carved in stone. Their fortifications (in the form of quad-
rant and circle) show a rather advanced knowledge of military
science and of geometry.

These Indians had already proceeded into the Bronze Age when
all other North American tribes were still lingering in the Age of
Stone. One knows this from the fact that, except for the use of lead
in certain ornamentation, they worked neither in copper nor in iron,
notwithstanding that both metals lay in greatest abundance beneath
their feet.

The Mound Builders have vanished from their early habitations
so long ago that even the Indians that came later to that region
knew nothing of their having lived there or of their name. From

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ a00

the thorough investigations that have been made by distinguished
archeologists in America it seems more than probable that these
Mound Builders were one and the same nation with the Toltec, and
that the opinion concerning their having been a remnant of the
colony settled by the Welsh prince Madoc is altogether untenable,
for the reason that these immemorial woods, that have since grown
up on their earthworks, were already there before 1170, the year
in which Madoc departed from the Principality of Wales. That
they were identical with the Toltec, as investigators permit one to
believe, is assumed from the similarity of overlapping gateways, of
carved pipe bowls, from statements on the part of merchants and
tradesmen from Mexico that obsidian is a species of Mexican stone,
from the advanced civilization of the Mound Builders, the presence
of similar earthworks (even though they are neither so well con-
structed nor so numerous) in all that region extending southward
from Ohio to the Gulf of Mexico during a period of time that coin-
cides with the appearance of the Toltec in Anahuac in the year 648,
together with their own tradition concerning their arrival on the
earth.

These proofs I have brought forward here merely for the sake
of showing, what many hold as questionable, i. e., that the Mound
Builders, in the matter of the high degree of cultivation, are much
like Indians of the Toltecan family.

That the Toltec reached a high degree of culture is acknowledged
by historians both of former generations and of recent times. From
them the famous ruins in Anahuac derive their origin (not to be
confused with those of Yucatan, Palenque) ; from them the Aztec,
who penetrated into that country from the Northwest 400 years later,
learned their science of astronomy in accordance with which at the
time of the Spanish Conquest they reckoned their solar year with
more exactness than their avaricious Christian conquerors; from
them resulted those hieroglyphic paintings for the pictorial repre-
sentations of their history, of their era, of their calculations, an art
that in no way brings their Indian origin in dispute. From them
the Aztec acquired a moral code strikingly like that of Christian
teaching and derived from them the idea of independent. priest-
hood and of judge, etc.

The Toltec lived for something like 400 years in Anahuac, until,
for causes unknown, whether pestilence, wars, or famine, their num-
bers became so reduced that they were unable longer to defend
their homeland from the fresh, warlike hordes that were breaking
in upon them.

Among these different invading tribes were the Aztec, who, in
spite of their savage nature, adapted themselves readily to the civili-
zation they met with there, but along with lofty morality adhered to

356 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

their ghastly human sacrifices and the eating of their victims. A
most extraordinary anomaly. Only the Acolhuan, known by the
name of their capital city Tezcuco, were more peaceably inclined.
They came into the country at the same time with the Aztec, in
fact were a related tribe, but struggled against this bloody practice
of human offerings which, after all, was not carried originally to
such a shocking degree among the latter, but became gradually more
and more horrible under the exactions of the priests, a class of ever-
increasing power. This sacerdotal influence was exerted for the pur-
pose of maintaining constant military exercises; the victims sacri-
ficed were always prisoners of war dedicated to the deities of the
underworld. The creator of the world was worshipped without
either pictorial representations or human offerings.

In the course of time the inhabitants of Tezcuco, profiting by
the Toltecan civilization and encouraged by excellent princes, like
the Nezahuacoyotl, made considerable advance, on their own part,
in intellectual and artistic matters, especially in poetry and in plastic
art, while their neighbors, the Aztec, directed their aims rather more
to material development. What especially amazed the Spaniards,
partly because of the originality and novelty displayed and also for
the reason that the existence of such things among Indians was totally
unexpected, were the suspended or hanging gardens; complete col-
lections of all indigenous plants in their well-kept gardens and of
all native domestic animals in well-arranged menageries; their careful
tillage of the soil and production, by means of irrigation, of Indian
corn, bananas, agaves, cacao, cotton, etc.; their special fondness for
the cultivation of flowers; their mighty aqueducts and original de-
signs in the architecture of magnificent palaces; the houses built on
piles; the dikes, and lake shores connected by drawbridges that they
might serve for highways; their schools for boys and girls; the im-
measurable treasures in precious metals; their coins stamped with
the form of a Latin T; their market places, hospitals, storage houses
for tools and provisions; their skill as goldsmiths, feather workers,
weavers, etc; and their extensive, highly respectable trade.

Amazed to find such cultivation among Indians, many people are
inclined to assert that their civilization was not their own but was
based upon certain analogies of European and primarily of Asiatic
origin; for instance, the teocallis from the Egyptians; astronomy
from the same race or from the Mongols, Persians, etc.; cyclopaean
walls, gateway, and window facings from the Greeks; the tradition
of Noah and the deluge from the Hebrews; baptism, absolution, the
cross and the punishment of burning in everlasting fire, together with
moral teaching, from the Catholics; helmet-like coverings for their
heads from the Celts; weapons, standards, court singers and court

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 357

fools, dwarfs, and jugglers, in addition to certain feudal adapta-
tions, from the Romans or else from the medieval knights; conse-
quently, in the end, little remains that is peculiarly Mexican.

This view concerning the part that foreign influence has had in
the civilization of tribes in Mexico still gains credence, to be sure,
from the native tradition (of Toltecan origin), so harmful in its
effect, that relates how, at a period most remote, Quetzalcoatl,
god of the air, appeared in the form of a white man with long black
hair and flowing beard and taught the inhabitants of Anahuac the
use of metals, the science of husbandry, and statecraft. Then, hav-
ing promised to come back again, he set out upon the sea in a skiff
of serpent’s skin, sailing eastward to the fairyland of Tlapallan.

Even though the Toltec themselves may have been indebted in part
to earlier inhabitants of Anahuac or to foreign influences for their
civilization, still in their advance to a higher cultivation they have
been always true to the fundamental characteristics of the Indian
race and have only improved their own abilities (just as the Aztec,
according to their own admission, are indebted to the Toltec for
their culture). Their hieroglyphical paintings prove that fact in-
contestably, while moccasins, breechcloth, kneebands, eagle feathers,
shields, bows, arrows, lances, knives made of obsidian, tomahawks,
fans, painting the face, antipathy for beards or for any hair on the
bodies denote pure Indian; merely a modification in their style of
dress appears when, owing to a lack of pelts, leather was scarce
and the wealth of metals and precious stones was made use of as a
mark of distinction by the splendor-loving Indians. Maquehinte (?)
and the dart were peculiar to the Mexican.

Although it is not so much a question here of vindicating the
claim of the former inhabitants of Anahuac to a culture of their
own as it is to prove their capacity for civilization, yet we may
be permitted to mention several highly important grounds for
vindication.

In the first place, except among the Quichua (of the race of Incas),
who trained the llama and alpaca for domestic animals, there was an
absolute absence of cattle throughout the whole of America, even in
this part of the continent, where agriculture was carried forward to
a high degree and the bison could not have been unknown. Further-
more, there was a universal ignorance as to the use of iron, though
an abundance of it existed in that region. If Quetzalcoatl had
been a civilized European or Asiatic, which is much to be doubted,
it must appear remarkable in the highest degree that he did not
teach those two very important branches of human knowledge, and
something even as important, i. e., the use of the sail. It may be
regarded surprising, also, that, though European and Asiatic influ-

358 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

ences played so large a part in the development of this people, the
horse never appears in the tradition. It cannot but seem utterly
incomprehensible that the Hebrews, for example, who are well
known as cattle breeders par excellence and were acquainted, in any
case, with the profitable uses of iron, should have left no trace of
their skill in those useful employments, while they preserved the
tradition of Noah and the deluge. The same may be said of the
Europeans; only the ancient Egyptians might be regarded an excep-
tion, inasmuch as in the construction of the pyramids they had not
yet made use of iron and their influence on the civilization of Ana-
huac can be said to date only from their earliest period, at least
2,000 years B. C.

Even the great number of analogies found among widely dissimi-
lar peoples of the Old World, in remote ages as well as in modern
times, together with the fact that the discovery of the New World
came so much later and that the aboriginal Indian is a distinct racial
type, affords sufficient proof, according to my view, that the Ameri-
can Indian is a separate race; furthermore, that the civilization of
this people is one peculiarly their own. But I make this assertion
without any desire to question the possibility of their having had
occasional contact with the Old World.

Wherever one turns in his study of primitive man one finds every-
where, even on the most remote, inaccessible island, that such peoples
are provided with the same kind of weapons, nourish and clothe
themselves in much the same way and, as soon as hunting, fishing,
and fruit-bearing trees are no longer sufficiently productive without
artificial aid, they succeed in the cultivation of the soil and in the
breeding of cattle. With the expansion of their resources, population
increases, thereby increasing their needs; so the state is evolved,
bringing to the citizens’ attention fundamental truths like personal
security, protection of property, and more or less freedom in the
development of the individual, etc. It is useless to expect from any
isolated race of men something entirely original in manner of liv-
ing; the natural man is, in all instances, provided with the same
sort of physical organism; only in mentality is one race more highly
endowed than another, etc.

From the foregoing we now draw the following conclusions:

1. That, owing to their ignorance of better conditions as well as
to the sterility of the region in which they lived, no civilization could
be justly expected among the Root Diggers.

2. That among the prairie Indians, and also among the eastern
forest tribes, terrestrial happiness was so completely possible in this
world that civilization according to our ideas would make them worse
rather than better. They would only lose contentment, that satis-

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 359

faction with their earthly lot which, notwithstanding our noteworthy
progress in the arts and sciences, and in spite of our belief in a merci-
ful God, we strive after in vain.

3. That the Aztec and, to a degree at least, the Toltec also took
their higher civilization from earlier inhabitants of Anahuac and
thereby gave adequate proof of the pure Indians’ capability for cul-
ture as soon as they find it necessary to renounce earlier conditions.

These conclusions apply equally to the South American Indians,
whom I have not mentioned for want of space; besides, the stages
of development are the same among them as among the North Ameri-
can tribes that are better known to me.

Now we come to two other important questions:

How did it come about that the civilized Indians of an earlier
period lost their civilization ?

Why was it that they adopted so little of the culture brought to
them by civilized Europeans?

The infamous treatment that these natives of America suffered
after the coming of avaricious Europeans is known to everyone. It
suffices to mention, for instance, that when the Spaniards came they
destroyed with fanatical zeal all the native civilization as heretical,
as heathenish; in order to get possession of land and treasure, they
brought the nations, glorious in earlier times, so completely under
subjection that the energy and inventive genius of the tribes were
completely lost; then, instead of giving the subjugated people a
broader culture the Spaniards made of them only Christian simple-
tons. One may with justice put the question: Which in this instance
proves himself the greater barbarian? For, though it was a good
deed to put an end to human sacrifices among the Aztec, the Span-
iards are guilty of a still greater number of murders and their in-
quisition is, in comparison, even more horrible.

Englishmen conducted themselves in a manner little less repre-
hensible. Jealous of the Spaniards’ increasing power, they sought
to acquire, in their turn, lands rich in gold. English kings granted
patents as gifts or else sold the unknown lands, property of the
Indians, in vast tracts, extending from the Atlantic Ocean even to
the Pacific coast, in order to prick on their adventurers to the occu-
pation of them. To find mythical Cathay was the first stimulus to
cross the ocean; avarice and expansion of power, the second; to find
rest from religious and political persecutions was the third. Never
a trace of a colony having been founded for the betterment of the
native Indians; on the contrary, Europeans hardly set foot on
American soil before they were striving against each other for
possession of the land, without concerning themselves about the
true property owners.

81634—37——24

360 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 115

Notwithstanding all this there are Englishmen who assert even
now, and Americans after them, that their chief motive in taking
possession of the Indians’ land was to civilize the primitive inhabit-
ants. Thus they give the lie to historical fact. Moreover, let them
name a single instance that proves the truth of their assertions.
Other authors ease their sore consciences with communistic utter-
ances to the effect that no one should hold in his possession land
that is not in use. To what would that lead? What is one to think
of such doctrine from English historians, in whose homeland so
much land lies fallow for their noble lords’ pleasures of the chase.
And from Americans who speculate in land on such a vast scale.
Such assertions are made in the face of historical proof that the
Indians, whose domain lay east and southwest of the Mississippi,
south of the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence River, as well as
along the entire seacoast between the estuaries of that stream, de-
pended quite as much for their livelihood upon the yield from their
fields as from the chase. Now that was the manner in which Indians
were rewarded for having assisted the colonists almost everywhere
with their own provisions, nay, what is more, for having rescued
them often enough from starvation.

To anyone who examines impartially the situation that existed
between the Indians and the colonists it must be perfectly evident
that during the wars carried on for 200 years by the latter in de-
fense of their homeland against the constant pressure of insatiable
colonists, and during the struggles among the various nations repre-
sented by the colonists themselves, Spaniards, Englishmen, French-
men, and Hollanders, into which the natives were always involved
to their own loss, it must be unmistakably clear that under such cir-
cumstances the Indians would inevitably become rather demoralized.
Even to the first 30 years of our own century the English have
continued to incite the native tribes against the Americans, to spur
them on to war with gifts and pledges of assistance, only, in the end,
to leave them in the lurch.

There was also another potent influence I must not neglect to
mention: The interests of the prevailing fur-trading companies were
greatly furthered by the Indians remaining in their primitive state.
In fact that vast trade ceased just as soon as the native tribes found
the cultivation of the soil preferable to the chase, and, on the other
hand, this tillage of the ground can only thrive in those regions
when the bison is extinct as a wild animal.

In contrast to the fur traders who as “pioneers” are often ad-
mired for their courage and simple life, the white people on the
borders are recognized to be a lawless set, fugitives from justice who
hate the Indians because the latter are a hindrance to unbridled

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 361

license, but surpass the savages themselves in brutality and turbu-
lence. Altogether an ignoble example of civilized man.

Still another and, perhaps, the most important factor that has
influenced adversely the civilization of the Indians is the great
diversity of opinion among so-called Christians concerning religious
beliefs.

Up the the present time this fact has been too little regarded.
North American Indians have a universal belief in a great benevo-
lent Spirit whom they worship without pictorial representations.
They make votive offerings to the sun and the moon in recognition
of comforts and benefits bestowed. They try to appease the thunder
by dancing, etc. They accept these beliefs universally; there is
never the least hint of disputation among them concerning such
matters. It is only in the matter of their origin that the tribes have
different traditions.

Now, how was it with the colonists? Every colony brought an-
other belief, and yet all wished to be thought good Christians, each
claiming to be even better than the others. Many of them were
seeking a refuge from religious persecutions in their native country,
yet showed themselves capable of the most frightful intolerance to-
ward adherents of other beliefs in their new homeland. The most
rigorous persecutors of all were the Puritan fathers, who drove out
of their congregations everybody who did not agree with their view
of things. Instead of Christians, manifesting their union at least as
such, and taking the lead as sincere and loyal followers of Christ in
their good example, the Indians saw Catholics and Lutherans,
Protestants and Quakers, Jesuits and Puritans, all good Christians,
striving against each other, oftentimes with rage.

Could such behavior have an uplifting or formative influence?
Which one was the Indian to join? How different it would have
been if the Europeans, instead of coming as conquerors with fire and
sword, had settled down as peaceful colonists and imparted the best
of their civilization to the primitive inhabitants. Only people of a
fickle nature are ready at any time to accept innovations and give up
the old order, whether good or bad. The Indian is certainly not that
sort. It must be considered not in the least astonishing, moreover,
that he did not immediately imitate the accomplishments of his ene-
mies, but adopted only what seemed especially useful to him in his
own mode of life.

What could those admirable individual missionaries like Roger
Williams, Eliot, Marquette, the Moravians, and other good men have
achieved if their assembled flocks had not been more secure than
other Indians from the attacks and persecutions of the colonists? If
the culture of the Indian did not give him a guarantee against the

362 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

cruel blows inflicted by colonial whites, which continued even into
our modern era? What profit does the Indian derive from cultivat-
ing his fields if, in the end, he is forced to give up the results of his
labor, his seeds, and his harvest to the Americans? Is it not inevita-
ble that hatred for such a nation, the inhabitants of which call them-
selves the most enlightened people, but live and deal with others in
a manner so contrary to their pronounced and much boasted teaching
that well-founded doubts of the benefits to be had from such teaching
should become fixed in the mind of the Indian ?

Is it reasonable to require of the Indians, in spite of all these dis-
advantageous conditions, an equal standard of cultivation in so short
a time as his enemies possess? How long a time, for example, were
the Germans in strife against Roman civilization? How many cen-
turies did it require to bring them to their present high standard ?
Furthermore, even at the present time, are all superstitions, all
heathen customs nonexistent? Have the Germans not lost in energy
since they are civilized ?

If one wishes really to civilize the Indian, or at least to allow him
to accomplish his own improvement, first of all let him have peace;
let him not be continually driven from place to place out of his
productive domain to the barren prairie; let him be treated as a
human being, entitled to equal rights with the white race. He will
then prove that he is capable of appropriating in time the highest
degree of civilization, as soon as he judges it to be indispensable to
his corporal and spiritual advantage. The Cherokee and Creek give
proof of this even now. But, in defiance of treaties, in spite of their
well-ordered government, their attention to agriculture and cattle
breeding, notwithstanding their advance in schools and book lan-
guage, they are continually forced back into the interior of the coun-
try. The American republican is an aristocrat only skin deep and
desires that the redskins enjoy the rights of man just as little as the
negroes. After having supplanted the Indians and forced them,
therefore, to depend for a livelihood upon hunting, the Americans
revile them as savages, difficult to approach, and incapable.

Does one not constantly tempt them from their ancient, often-
times established domains with the bait of new hunting grounds?

However, the Indian has not rejected everything that European
civilization has offered him. On the contrary, he has quickly ap-
propriated what he found to be profitable or agreeable, such as
firearms, horses, knives, needles, steel, firestone, axes, cooking uten-
sils of iron, woolen materials for clothing, glass beads, and fatal
whisky.

The teocallis have little resemblance to the pyramids, for they
consist of several terraces with a temple at the summit. One finds
them also in the region of the Mound Builders. One might just

KuRz] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 363

as well say that pagodas or our own church towers derive their
origin from the pyramids. Of all monuments known to me in the
Old World, the one that most nearly resembles the teocalli is the
tomb of Cyrus at Pasargadac.

According to Prescott, Montezuma told Cortez that the Aztec had
occupied that country only a few centuries. They conducted great
affairs there and, after they had given laws to the country and gov-
erned for a time, they disappeared into the region beyond the sun-
set. Had Quetzalcoatl two names or is he here confused with
Mexi, who led the Aztec to Anahuac? Quetzalcoatl was a mythi-
cal Toltecan deity, to whom the great teocalli in Cholulu was
dedicated.

Inasmuch as the Aztec founded their system of astronomy upon
movements of the same heavenly bodies it is not surprising to find
many analogies with the same science among the Asiatic peoples.
On the other hand, that like denominations be always found in their
system of classification is hardly possible.*

In addition to their widely varying interpretations of the Scrip-
tures, another fault to be found with the missionaries, and one that
makes a comprehension of the Christian faith more difficult for
Indians, is their manner of presenting the subject with all the per-
plexing details of the Old and New Testaments which, to be prop-
erly understood requires a knowledge of history and geography.
Insttad of teaching Christian ethics in its appealing simplicity they
overwhelm the primitive mind with all the bewildering legends,
prophesies, miracles, historical narratives both good and bad, with
the result that the poor Indian cannot “see the woods for the trees.”
But the inculcation of “Whatever you would that others do unto
you, do ye also unto them” would be too simple, too quickly taught—
an unprofitable business. Moreover, that teaching would be in open
conflict with transactions of so-called Christians and would not ad-
mit of diversities of opinion concerning dogma, the central truth
to which so much more appertains.

From our standpoint we may look down upon primitive peoples
with disregard as much as we like, yet primitive man, nevertheless,
made most important discoveries in comparison with which ours,
though justly regarded of great worth, according to my view signify
less. I will cite only fire and speech: The Heavenly Father did no
more to assist primitive man to make fire or to learn how to express
himself in speech than He helped us to invent the telegraph or the
steamboat. Early man discovered fire for his physical comfort;
also words, and later on writing, either by means of characters or
pictorial representations. Certainly that denotes inherent gifts of

1See Prescott, Conquest of Mexico, vol. m1, p. 242.

364 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 115

no low order. Furthermore, this applies to aborigines even in most
remote lands. The discovery of fire and the uses to which it was
put, the origin of words and formation of sentences is, from my
point of view, an achievement so remarkable that all later inventions
signify little in comparison, for without those elements our science
and inventions would never have been possible. We are so accus-
tomed to fire and speech, however, that we no longer concern our-
selves about their origin and therefore regard the matter as of little
significance.

REMARKS CONCERNING MY LANGUAGE EXERCISES

The writing of the Indian language presents serious difficulties.
In the first place the Indians have no records in accordance with
which they can fix the pronunciation of the words and, as usage in
language just as any other usage is capable of change, one is often
perplexed to find the correct letters for indeterminate sounds. Fur-
thermore, one finds it difficult to make an Indian, from whom one
gets the words, understand just what is wanted, for the reason, pri-
marily, that one is limited to the sign language only and this is not
always adequate for specific distinctions or detailed explanation.
That one can be led astray also by educated traders who know per-
fectly the speech of certain tribes, is proved by my linguistic experi-
ments in the Mandan language, the results of which are often quite
different from those obtained by Prince von Neu Wied, notwithstand-
ing that the words proceed from the same mouth—that is to say,
from Mr. Kipp’s. It seems that he must not have had the same ear
for the sounds as I, for, though I dare not place myself in the same
rank with a traveler so celebrated, so thorough, I may be allowed to
assume that I have written down correctly these words of the Man-
dan language—words I am required to repeat over and over again,
all the time, to Mr. Kipp and his Mandan wife. He was most
anxious not only to oblige his friend Mitchell, Indian agent at St.
Louis, but also to be answerable, under his own name, to scholars.
The differences that appear, therefore, in the results of our language
texts must be adjudged by some competent third person.

As I have not lived among the Mandan I have received my knowl-
edge of their language from one and the same source; consequently,
I should immediately concede that I am wrong if I had not found
in. other languages better known to me just as many differences of
opinion between Prince von Neu Wied and myself—discrepancies
about which I am perfectly certain that I am right, because I have
heard the words hundreds of times and have used them daily myself.

Previously, when I began regularly to practice speaking the Sioux

KURZ] JOURNAL OF RUDOLPH FRIEDERICH KURZ 365

dialect with Witthae, the men remonstrated with me for talking like
a woman—that is to say, the pronunciation and manner of speak-
ing among Indian women is not always the same as among the men.
Like the former, I gave a softer sound to the consonants m,.K,. &.
etc:

Oftentimes I had difficulty also in learning the names of colors
in the Indian language for the reason that those words are rarely
used as adjectives but are appended usually to a substantive like
earth, color, or even blanket, glass bead, etc. Moreover, when nam-
ing parts of the body Indians use the word “my”; when naming
other objects, the expression “it is.’ In such instances one can only
get the precise expression by a nearer acquaintance with Indian usage
and a more thorough study of their speech.

In German one comes nearest to the sounds of the letters in Indian
dialects, for our u, k, r, a, ch, sch, h, and ec constantly appear. From
the French one finds the nasal sounds “an”, “on”, and especially
“que.”

For purposes of indicating sounds in the Indian language, English
is of no service at all; one merely admits a great number of new
letters to the alphabet. Only “th” can I make use of at all, and that
for the purpose of being able to produce the sound “ts” with the
tip of the tongue between the teeth. The sign ~ indicates a nasal
sound; with the exception of “th” all letters of the alphabet and
all syllables written in Latin script must be pronounced as in French.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BUSHNELL, Davin I., Jz. Friedrich Kurz, Artist-Explorer. Smithson. Rept.
for 1927, pp. 507-527, Washington, 1928.

Denic, Epwin THOMPSON. Indian Tribes of the Upper Missouri. Edited with
Notes and Biographical Sketch by J. N. B. Hewitt. Forty-sixth Ann.
Rept. Bur. Amer. Ethn., pp. 375-628, Washington, 1930.

Dorsry, J. OWEN. Omaha Sociology. Third Ann. Rept. Bur. Ethn., pp. 205-370,
Washington, 1884.

FLETCHER, ALICE C., and LA FLescHE, FRANcIS. Twenty-seventh Ann. Rept. Bur.
Amer. Ethn., pp. 15-654, Washington, 1911.

HANDBOOK OF AMERICAN INDIANS NorTH OF Mexico. Bull. 30, Bur. Amer. Ethn.,
pts. 1-2, Washington, 1907-10.

Lowin, Ropert H. Social Life of the Crow Indians. Anthrop. Papers Amer.

Mus. Nat. Hist., vol. rx, pt. 2, New York, 1912.

Notes on the Social Organization and Customs of the Mandan, Hidatsa,

and Crow Indians. Ibid., vol. xxz, pt. 1, 1917.

MAXIMILIAN, PRINCE ALEXANDER PHILIP, DE WIED-NEUWIED, Reise in das innere
Nord-America in den Jahren 1832 bis 1834. B. 1-11, Coblenz, 1839-1841.

PowELL, JOHN WESLEY. Indian Linguistic Families of America North of Mex-
ico. Seventh Ann. Rept. Bur. Ethn., pp. 1-142, Washington, 1891.

TRAVELS IN THE INTERIOR OF NorTH AMERICA. Translated from the German by
H. Evans Lloyd, London, 1843.

366

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BUEE EIN Ome Re IeAsTp Ee

Upper left: July 23, 1851.
Upper right: July 17, 1851. Her{antsa].
Lower left: July 4(?), 1851. Sioux.
Lower right: July 13. 1851. Herantsa.

Lower middle: August 17, 1851.
Lower right: August 19, 1851.

1

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 2

Upper left: July 29, 1852.
Upper right: December 4(?), 1856.

Upper left: August 24, 1851.
Lower middle: Powder magazine, Fort Berthold. August 19, 1851.

a

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULLETIN 115

PLATE 3

Lower left: August 17, 1851.

Upper left: February 26, 1852.
Upper right: February 16, 1851.
Lower left: January 27, 1852.
Lower right: February 9, 1852.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 4

Swimming Across Papillon Creek at the Omaha Village. May 22, 1851.

- -
Ro

“™ N :
TS, SE age ae i
Lower left: August 2, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 5

Lower right: July 15, 1851. [James] Kipp.

Upper: June 2, 1851. Omaha.
Bottom: Overflow of the Musquaiter. May 31, 185]. Council Bluffs.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 6

Top: Returning from the Dobies’ Ball.
Bottom: Morgan. October 14, 1851.

ee es Se or a

per ge”

pea tdact +

amy SIE

Mannagiga. Omaha. Front and profile views. May 23, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULEEERIN 115° PEAGE 7

Upper: October 6, 1851. Culbertson, Bourgeois of Fort Mackenzie. November 11, 1851. Ours Fou.
Right of center: November 9, 1851. Domicila La Bombarde.
Under carriole: November 27, 1851.
Bottom: November 23(?), 1851.

Center: Durham. October 30, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 8

MY AMMAN

ails Aili, so eo ae

5
ty

ris

Upper: Mouth of the Big Platte. Nebraska. Niobrara.
Middle: May 23, 1851.
Bottom: ? Mus-lu-la; Wik-wi-la. Omaha,

At horse's heel: August 1, 1851.
At bottom: Herantsa (i. e., Gros Ventres).

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLCGCY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 9

Top: Cree. December 27, 1851.

Bottom: Crow saddle. October 5, 1850.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 10

Middle; Crows. November 29, 1851. Crow women. January 7, 1852.
Bottom: January 23, 1852. (Saddled pony.)

Bottom: August 8, 1851. (Probably ring-and-spear game.)

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULCCERINGS Pe AiEs tit

Bottom: Californians. Council Bluffs (in the distance). May 18, 1851.

Bottom: August 26, 1851. (Rudolph Friederich Kurz?)

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

Ax ey ;

Ray or
Oe ee:
>

Pd

der file»

BULLETIN 115 PLATE

Ny Vype le

Top: August 9, 1851. Herantsa. Badger (a dog).

Bottom: Cedar Island, N. I.

fashion

st.
alte

June 27, 1851. July 23, 1851.

Bottom: August 31, 1850. Fashion (a horse).

12

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEEEGING 115) PeAGE Ms

Bottom: February 4, 1852. (Fort Union?).

Ecttom: Queue Rouge. August 20, 1851. August 21, 1851(?).

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 14

Dee ee eh

——

Upper: October 13, 1851.
Bottom: August 17(?), 1851. Herantsa.

Middle: August 23, 1851. {

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULEEETRIN His) PEARE TS

Back of horseman: Glaice hair(?). Habits de Cheffre with Indian ornamentation.
Bottom: Herantsa. August 1851. December 15, 1851.

Left (margin): August 12, 1851.
Bottom: lowa(?). Probably Chief White Cloud. December 19, 1850.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY PULLETIN 115 PLATE 16

Lower left: July 23, 1851.
Lower right: August 2 or 4, 1851. (Woman with bullboat and paddle.)

Pl mathe maws Pome,

Upper center: August 29, 1851. Medicine Sacs. Queue Rouge. Téte Jaune.
Under boat: Mackinaw boat.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEEEGRING TS PEATE 7,

At bottom: Fort Union. September 7, 185i

Top: Fort Clarke. Arikara.
Bottom: Young girls’ dance. July 13, 1851.

BULLETIN 115 PLATE 18

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

Bottom: Omaha.

Top: Guthumer, i. e., Belhumeur.

ame

25
LO asta!

Cree.

December 6, 1851.

Top

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUPEBRTIN HS: PEATE SIS

Top right: July 8, 1851. Below Fort Clarke.
Bottom: Horse guard of Fort Berthold.

Left middle: September 14, 1851. Mr. Dennick’s (i. e., Mr. Denig’s).
Foot of snowshoe: September 15, 1851.
Between medals: September 24, 1851.
Bottom: September 26, 1851. Saddled horses.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 20

Bottom: P.T. Sarpy. Belle Vue. May 16, 1851. ‘‘Trading house for the Omahaws.”’

Upper left: July 12, 1851. Mandan.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEEEGIN] 115) (PEATE =21

: 1
. WE .

Bottom: Potawatomi. May 21, 1851. Equipment for horseback riding.

Bottom: Sauteurs visiting. August 4, 1851 (left). August 14, 1851 (right).

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEEETIN iiss PEATE 22

Below: August 5, 1851. Herantsa (i. e., Gros Ventres). Ring and spears

Top right: March 12, 1852.
Bottom: February 15, 1852. Saddled Blackfeet pony.
Lower right: October 12, 1852(?). Three breeds of dogs are shown.

ee

BUREAU

OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULLETIN 115 PLATE

23

Upper left: February 18, 1852. La Bombarde.
Upper right: Herantsa cutting up a drowned bison.
Lower center: Sauteurs (Chippewa) girl. At her right, July 27, 1851.
Lower right: Herantsa woman.

Bottom: Omaha. Halfbreed.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 24

Left center: Ulegible phrase.
On shoulder of wpper figure: July 7, 1851.
Under two figures: July 16, 1851.
Lower center: July 16, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEE ERIN iS PEAK E25;

Under horsemen: August 6, 1851.
Right, under figures: August 7, 1851.

Bottom: Oto Indians with a boat. May 15 ,1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 26

Upper row: August 10,1851. Under second figure, Pierre Gareau. Between last two figures: August 13, 1851.
Bottom: July 23, 1851. From Fort Berthold.

Upper left: December 27, 1851. Crow bags (Indian).
Bottom: Lowa.

BUEEERIN 15) (REAGE 27

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

7, 1851.

gust

Au

”

Ange.

“ASI

Packet boat

(James) Kipp.

July 14, 1851.

Mandan.

Bottom:

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULEETIN: 115° (PEAGTESZs

Upper row: July 16, 1851. (Le Serpent Noir.)

Left: Female bighorn. January 27, 1852.
Right: February 22, 1852.

IBUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULEEERINGIIS» SPEAR EF2S

Bottom: July 12, 1851. Herantsa (i. e., Gros Ventres).

Upper left: Corbeau. August 7, 1851.
Upper center: Herantsa (i. e., Gros Ventres).
Bottom: July 14, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEEETRIN 115) JeEAmESSsO

Bottom center: Cree. July 23, 1851.

Bottom center: July 22, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEERIGING 1S PEAIGE Si

Left: Long Hair. Squirrel skin.
Center: July 1851. Herantsa (i. e., Gros Ventres).
Right: July 12, 1851.

Upper left: July 24, 1851.
Bottom: Herantsa (i. e., Gros Ventres). July 23, 1851.
Top, near woman's head: Cree.
y Right: August 23, 1851.

aiid

‘BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUEEERING HSS PEA Eas

Bottom, left: Engagees.
Bottom, center: August 28, 1851.
Bottom: Trader.

Top center: December 8, 1851. Ours Fou (i. e., Mad Bear).
Rijht: Waaschamani, second Chief of the Omaha. June 9, 1851.
Left bottom: Omaha. June 8, 1851. Wéikusche.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE

Lower left: Herantsa mourning (shown by wearing stripes of white clay).
Right center: July 17, 1851.

ant

I

Top left: Under design, Assiniboin song. September 9, 1851.
Bottom: Under figure of Mr. Kurz and horse, October 1850.

33

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 34

Upper left, below heads: Assiniboin. December 3, 1851.
Upper center: Ours Fou. |
Bottom: Cree. December 8, 1851. The drawing includes a modernized calumet.

Upper right: Assiniboin. November 16, 1851.
Under horseman: Charles Martin.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULEEERIN 115) PEATE 35

Under top house: Council Bluff. May 19, 1851.
Bottom: In center, May 26, 1851.
Extreme right: Mud lodge.

Under standing figure: May 9, 1851.
At bottom: May 10, 1841.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BUELEERING HS PEATEs so

Under horse: Sioux. May 25, 1851.
Under barefoot man: Engagee.
Under man with pipe: Trader. June 1851.
Under moccasined man: Guyotte.
Under last figure standing: Engagee Canadian. May 26, 1851.

At right of man’s bust: Lambert.

At back of woman’s bust: Herantsa.

Under row of houses: Council Bluff.

Right below house: Council Bluff. May 19, 1851.
Bottom: Cree, or the Cree. July 28, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 37

Upper left: November 13, 1851.
Lower left: (Ilegible).
Bottom center: Fort Berthold. July 13, 1851.

Bottom left: Young Elk, chief of Omaha.
Bottom right: Omaha. May 5, 1851.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 38

Upper left, below faint outline: Tamegache, son of Washinga Saba, who is called the Young Elk(?) June 11,
1851.
Upper right: Dakota squaws. June 24, 1851.
Middle right: W. Picotte and squaw.
Under two seated figures: Omaha.
Left bottom: Captain La Barge of the ‘‘St. Ange.”’ July 7, 1851.
Bottom center: Pére de Smet.

Bottom: August 20, 1851. (Showing warrior with hafted stone tomahawk.)

BUREAU

OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BUCEERIN 115" PEATE 39

Bellangé.

(R. F. Kurz?) From Fort Berthold to Fort Union, September 7, 1851.

Bottom:

Omaha Village.

May 20, 1851.

BUREAU

OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULEETIN 115 (PEATE 40

Upper busts: Left, [Charles] Morgan. September 13, 1851.

25, 1851.

Right, Four Rivers, Absaroka. November

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULLETIN 115 PLATE 41

Bottom: August 16, 1851.

Bottom right: Long Hair (i. e., La Longue Chevelure). August 15, 1851.

> a ER z Z ee <= mee = :
bees fOr Cy B ees

May 19, 1851.

Bottom: Crossing at Council Bluff.

BUEEERIN iS) SPE AgiE a2

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

, 1851. Fort Pierre.

Bottom: July 4

March 20, 1851.

Jowa (Indians).

Bottom: (Rudolph Friederich Kurz).

BULLETIN 115 PLATE 43

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

October 10, 1851.

Upper right: Bull and Badger (dogs).

May 16, 1851.

structure) .

Bottom: Omaha lodge (interior

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 44

Bottom: Oto camp below mouth of Big Platte. May 13, 1851.

Bottom: July 16, 1851. Two young braves returning with their first scalps; their faces, with the exception
of their noses, which are painted white, are blackened, to indicate the making of a ‘“‘coup.”’

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 45

sit
ae th. GESTAITE s

Center: July 22, 1851.
Upper right: August 1, 1851.
Lower left: G. V. July 12, 1851. (Gros Ventres?)
Bottom: July 1, 1851. Below Fort Pierre. Garden Island.

Bottom: Omaha Village. May 24, 1881.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE 46

Left center: Figure in attitude of mourning.
Bottom of burial scaffold: July 28, 1851. August 30, 1851.

Under horse: February 16, 1852.
Under yoke: February 19, 1852.
Right center: Sauteur (Chippewa). Methods of making network of cords.

BUREAU

OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 115 PLATE

Lower center: Fort Berthold. August 3, 1351.

47

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY > BUEEFEMIN TiS PEAhEsa3

Absaroka (Crow). Probably Chief Rottentail. October 26, 1851.

INDEX

ABSAROKA: Page.
also called Crows___---_-__ 142
O Sat LAGers= 2 2 bene et 214
Crows’ name for them-
ENG Sie sk a 252
IMENGON OLL 222s och ees 295
peace pipe sacred among___ 183
superior buffalo robes of___ 250
visits of, at Fort Union____ 243
See also Crow INDIANS.
ABSAROKA LANGUAGE, translation
(CHET ODO KS} 0 ee Poe 250
ABSAROKA WOMAN, description
Ciel Se ee ee ees eee 213
ACCIDENTS, custom concerning-. 207
ACOLHUAN, Civilization of___-_-_ 356
ADAM, discussion of the name__ 284
AGENTS OF FUR COMPANIES, duties
DYE Sin sw ESE aS One 234-235
AGRICULTURE:
among prairie Indians_____ 352
practice of, among _ In-
ASAT Sete eee 287-288
ALTAR, SACRIFICIAL, description
OVE SE Se AS SN 104-105
AMARANTH, STEAMER, voyage on_ 5
AMERICAN FuR-TRADING Com-
PANY, Fort Union a post of___ 156
ANAHUAGC, culture of inhabitants
ob. Ce ee ee ieee 857-358
ANIMALS:

discussion of qualities of. 254-255
found near Fort Union, list

(BPE a ie oe ie ee 329
mimicry of, by Indians____ 201
ANNUITIES, payment of, to In-
UID SAI Ss ee 37
ANTELOPES :

hunting of__ 161-162, 181, 185-186
question concerning horns

ARIKARA? Page
agriculture practiced by_.. 290
cholera, among 2222-25-42. $9,

106, 133, 167, 196, 221

classification of23 G2) S20 2s8 165
cleanliness4of22e 24s ie as 149
enemies of Assiniboin_--___ 179
expedition, againsts+—--—-=_+ 80
mention of bands of_______ 81
population ; of! 4 + ssh ose 165
Villacey of 222 a ee 72, 284

ARK, representation of, in Man-

dan village 2222 2 2 105

Arrow, advantages of, in hunt-

TH OV 2a See = Saat ea Se ars bo 176

ART
American attitude toward__ 25
effect of fatigue on_-___- 137-188
ideals) 1 eee 90-92, 94-95, 128
Tim@sy Uns eet es oh 271-272
DUEpOse; Of ==. ae es 187-190

ARTISTS :

Indian belief concerning__~ 76,
81, 116°
misfortunes following visits
fe eee 76
mistakes made by—-------- APATl
preparation for work of___ 2
ASCHAWAGI (CHIEF SPOTTED
Horse), portrait made of____ 65

ASSINIBOIN :

advances made by, to Sioux_ 300

appointment of chief of__ 294-295

at Minnetaree village__---- TA
attack on, by Blackfeet____ 320
band of, at Fort Union__.__ 187
characteristics of —-_------ 295
classifica tionw.ot= 22-2 a= 165
clothing .0f=22= 232 es 156
coatseworneby2— 36
Givisions iol 2 === 179, 311
enemies Of. ee = ee ene oe 179

368 INDEX
Assiniporn—-Continued. Page | BEAUTY: Page
SOMES OSS ae ee eee ee 148 author’s reflections on___ 157-159
LAZINESS 0 fees ee ee eed 302 in art, discussion of____ 272-273
IMCULLON, Oljso saa ess ee 81, | BEAVER:
114, 119, 170, 215, 225 aS f00d 262A 326
mourning customs of____ 214, 242 value of (peltsiof = 81
nomadic life of__-_______ 120-121 | BecKset, Docror, reference to__ 343
origin of name of_________ 142 | BELANTSE-ETEA, a name for the
othersnamesnofes= = 143 HMidatsacs iso. 2s. ee 36
populahloniotess— === 165 | BeLHuMevR, mention of__ 308, 313, 324
return of war party of____ 80 | BELLANGE:
Slain) by Blackfeet2_22—2 211 ambition) Ofes=— 2 81
strange disease among____- 237 departure of, for Fort
treacherous use of peace Bertholds==-—-~-2 ess 22
Mipew byes wes ke 183 inconsistent actions of_____ 116
visits of, at Fort Union__.__ 243 reference: to=22.-24=-_2 eee 97,
war of, with Herantsa_____ 196 105, 109, 110, 116, 119, 330, 331
warfare of, with Blackfeet_ 206 | BrLLE Vug, description of______ 60
ASSINIBOIN, STEAMER, reference BERTHOLD, mention of__________ 234
foyer oo Rs et Tes ited bie 65 | Brete, inconsistencies of____ 274-275
ATKINSON, GENERAL, mention of_ 19 | Bia Horn on Rocky MouNnTAIN
AUDUBON : SHEEP, description of________ 299
Citedhte ty Shirts ees 247,299 | Bia Rozert, chief of Absaroka. 240
reference. tos. -—- + Se ae 3,65 | Bison:
AZTECS: forest, characteristics 6f___ 331
civilization of---___- 355-856, 359 Sce also BUFFALOES.
computation of time by___. 291 | Brack Birp:
influence of, on Apache and Omaha chici= 22s ess eas 79
INavaholes: eee soe 304 removal of rival of________ 179
material culture of______ 356-357 | Black HAwK:
mention of migrations of. 3863 mention Of.2. === 33
BACHMANN, cited--...-_---__ 247, 299 rights oe Vit ele 19
BACKWOODSMEN, customs of____ 6} Brack HAwkK War, discussion
BADGER, AMERICAN, aS a pet____ 29 Of. 22 eee ee 18-19
BAND OF THE LEFT HANDED BLACKFEET:
Curer, an Assiniboin band___ 179 Assiniboin attacked by___._ 320
BAND OF THE MAIDENS: Assiniboin slain by_---_- 211, 214
an Assiniboin band____---_- 179 attack /of,” on Creesooss=e= 128
See also GENS DES FILLES. enemies of Assiniboin____~ 179
BARNEBURG, BARON VON, mention horse) stealing of-222 2222" 254
(O1pn Nee I A eee Leen 65, 180 mention of___ 81, 119, 121, 295, 310
BATTISTE : metifs attacked by_----—--- 247
interpreter at Fort Union_ 203, name of, for themselves____ 303
204 population’ of. 2.2234 See 165
HCHION NOT 2 urea 331 story of tradentands=22==— 172
Bears: warfare of, with Assiniboin- 206
COLOTAR OTSA SIA BE 5M 118 | BLANKETS:
grizzly, characteristics of... 255 coats*madetotes2=- sea 5}
BEARSHEAD, WAR CHIEF: indication of quality of__-- 36
experiences! ofto--~1) Bela" 213 manner of wearing_----__- 35
mention of______ 251, 252, 253, 260 | Boats:
BEAUCHAMP, mention of_______ 103 of eastern, tribes22o222 2-2 = 353

INDEX 369

Boats—Continued. Page Page
of western tribes_________- $53. || BUNDEING, custom Of-=2 “282222 13
skin, theory concerning____ 100 | BurRIAts:

BopMER, KARL: Assiniboing{2 2) sa 218-219
CVAGCE "Oly 2st eee mL eye 3 of Mandan warrior__--_~-- 75-76
MENG ON MOfssa a= 73, 180, 227 Of prairie tribess==- = = 353
mistake made by_------- 131, 162 Of pfonrest) tribes=se =a 353

BoNnEAv, mention of_-_-~—- 293, 313,324 | BuTTE DE MACKENZIE, naming

Boox or Mormon, contents of_— ala OF sn Se: 2 RE ae oe oe 164

Borpwas No. 3, voyage on_------ 21-25 | CaADoTTE:

BOURGEOIS, OR HEAD CLERK: brief deseription of222-2 22 206
GUIGIES TOR ee a = Fe ee ee 235 Hivenigovey Cie. 246, 278,
DOS OM LO ie ee ee ee 123 308, 322, 323, 324, 325, 330, 331
Profits madeyby=s=-22——- === 235 unfaithful wife of____-__ 239-240

Boys: CAHOKIA:

SLAIN Otek Ad 351 blockhousesi ons sean 840

See also CHILDREN; EXDUCA- mention of mounds of_____~ 341
TION. CAHOKIA RIVER, picturesque

BRUYERE, mention of__________ 274, SCenery?) Of 2.26 Se aise 14-15
298, 310,311 | CALIFORNIA COAST TRIBES, place

“BucK”, INDIAN: of, in human development____ 349

meaning of the term___-___- 237
origin of the name_________ 41
BuFFALo, N. Y., author’s experi-

ONGOg) hp a 345-346
BUFFALO BULLS, old, fate of--__ 105
BUFFALO DANCH:

a healing ceremony____--_~_ 66
Gescripuony Ofe=---—-—— 66
BUFFALO DUNG, use of, as a

Chamero 257
BUFFALO HIDE, decorated, de-

SCRIP MOMMOLe a ae oun none = 17
BUFFALO HUNT:

description Of 2225 2=—- === 138-140,
145-146, 194-196
Packinaud injured in_____- 162
rules observed in__------_~- 85-85
use of enclosures for___-- 145-146
See also HUNTERS ; HUNTING.
BUFFALO ROBES:
manner of wearing__-----~ 35
Qualitya of2e- ee ee ae 260
value of, in trade______-_ 176, 245
WAIe) Value) Ofe ease 85
BUFFALO TONGUES, value of_-_ 242-243
BUFFALOES:
association of birds with-_ 164
AEStesiohtVoOlL. 2-23 a= 4
habits oft su lees 118, 117-118
Indian life influenced by-_._ 350

See aiso BIson; BUFFALO
HUNT; HUNTERS; HUNT-
ING.

CAmp, INDIAN, description of_ 226-227

CAMPBELL, ROBERT, mention of-_ 305
CAMPBELL AND PRIMEAU, trading
POStHiOh Sys siee Saih AS 332
CANOE, WHITE STONE, reference
10}-S552 455. Se ere: eee 288
CARAFEL, VICE DE:
adventure of, with the
SHROUD. ¢ eases SP 2 160-161
Mentions of se 131, 194, 205
falesirelatedh by a= Ss 168
CARIBBEANS, origin of____-__--_ 156
CATLIN [GEORGE]:
criticism of work of_------ 130
mention wof 2 22ts: eee 227
mistake made by_---_--_-~- 162

theories of2242= 2 a3 100, 285
CATTLE, treatment of, by back-

WOOGSMeN > eee 6-7
CAVE, at source of Missouri
TRV Cie es cee 270-271
CHAMPAGNE, BAPTISTE, mention
Of 4 Rois Eee Pe eS 330
CHARACTER, discussion of devel-
opment.of oes ese 158
CHEYENNE, mention of bands of_ 81
CHIEF :
costume worn by————----=< 85
qualifications) of£222= ess 351
succession in office of___--- 353

CHILDREN, INDIAN:
amusements) of 220s bs 88
Crow, privileges of__------

370 INDEX

CHILDREN, INDIAN—Continued. Page Page
education. Of 2s. 2 s25ae8 179=180 | Corps, epidemic of2=- =e 81
illegitimate, murder of_--__ 208 | CoLLecTION, INDIAN, forced sale
manner of carrying_------- 224 OPE). 5 eee 843
training of-25) 22=-22 175, 8351-352 | Commonittes, prices of, at Fort

CHIPPEWA : Unione. 222 ee snp 229
population. of == 165 | Corn:
reference to speech of_---- 186 Minnetaree surplus of__-_- 74
See also SAUTEURS. See also AGRICULTURE.

CHIPPEWA LANGUAGE, words from. 202 | Goxnriexps, law protecting___—- 120

CxHoctaws, in New Orleans__-- 20 | Cour:

CHOLERA : discussion: of=_-.—.. 22 142
at St. Joseph------------- 48 explanation J0f22-2=2 ees 15
carried in goods_---------- 97, 99 story connected with---. 170-171
discussion of cause of_---- 97 use of the word_____-_----- 32
epidemic of_-------------- 98, 99, | Courrsuip, of Indian girls____- 49-50

106, 133, 167, 196, 221 | Grey:
Suna Siene or attack on, by Blackfeet-_ 128, 160
symptoms of-------------- 106 brief description of__--_-_- 153

GHoumeau,; Eamanuy Jie Clothing (of... ean ae 36, 156
mention of---------------~- 234 land claimed by+—=---—--— 228
portrait made of-----—-- 156, 159 objection of, to whisky_--_ 178

CHRISTIAN RELIGION, influence population of__------------ 165

of on? Indians2=<s22 = 361-862, 363
CHRISTIANITY, discussion of In-

. dian attitude toward____-- 295-297
CINCINNATI, arrival at--------- 345
CIVILIZATION :
affected by density of popu-
VETO TY eee el ee a 289

discussion of progress of. 290-291
effect of, on Indian happi-

NGSGNe = ae dee 149-150
Indian, conditions affect-

ING 2 aa ee Se ek 359-363

of eastern tribes__.__----- 289

on Mexican plateau__---- 289-290

CLEANLINESS OF INDIANS_---~-~--~ 149

CLERK, TRADING POST, supposed

WILE SHO 22 2s eee 258
CLOTHING:
OG pee. Soi nas teed Ee 36, 156
Crowses 22s 36, 80, 251, 259-260
for ceremonial occasions_-- 88
Herantsa tu seen se eee 80
Indian, description of_----- 34-
35, 148-149
OLpbndian (ginko Sas ees a= dl
ornamentation of... 251, 259-260
Pawnee = 6 ste We Se 61
Potawatomikte. 2s seese 36
white man’s, influence of,
on, Indians ees 134

See also NupDItTy.

reference to__--~- 81, 215, 225, 300
story of bravery of-=2-—=_= 192
traders at Fort Union__ 202-203
CRIMINALS, treatment accorded. 63-64

Cross-Fox, description of_-----~ 185

Crow INDIANS:
at Minnetaree village_____-~ 74
characteristics of-—_=-== === 184
description or 251-252
dress! of--2 = 36, 80, 259-260
enemies of Assiniboin___-_ 179
fine buffalo robes of_----_- 251
games” Of. 148

mention of____ 74, 81, 127, 215, 225

name for Absaroka___----~ 142
DOpULaOnm Of sees 165
saddles: of 2242- ==. 5555s 260
trading post among_--__~-~ 205
treachery of Assiniboin to-_ 183
views of, on hunting

* rights,2-5- 202 ee 249
See also ABSAROKA.

CRUELTY :
Indian, compared with

Christian:22244).23=— 193

Indian, examples of__----- 106

CULBERTSON, MR. :
made'ia* colonelaze2.==25-—= 2 221

mention of__----- 65, 180, 220, 274
811, 317, 327, 329, 330

INDEX 371
CULBERTSON, Mr.—Continued. Page | DeENIG [EDWIN T.]—Continued. Page

portrait, of. 92) 225232225223, 224 opinion of, on portraits____ 1380

posts in chargejof& s-=<2—-2> 235 DOL’EATH Ohne as eens 141, 144

Slallvot im ishootinge 24) 2224 194 relations of, with employ-

surprise planned for______- 121 Ges’ 22S See ere et 199-200
CUSTOMS: relations of, with the In-

| RIT ere | oe ee a 75-76, 218-219 Gians: Shs a ~ 203-204

coneerning accidents___-_--~- 207 tales related by_--------- 133, 170

concerning mother-in-law__ 259 WAV OS) Oi ete eee 126, 1386

concerning prisoners__---~~ 143 work provided by_------ 121, 1383

ceihi cls lata) ae eae on 148 | Descoreaux, trader, reference

Of TCOuUrtSHIp = =e 49-50 COR ae ea 66

Gh warfare. tech. 142-143 | De Smet, PERp:

Ol WOT Me Series 8 Sv 175-176 MENTION OL eee eee 70, 77

See also BurRIAts; INFANTI- story concerning. _-2—=—_-_ 340

CIDE; MARRIAGE CUSTOMS ; tales related to, by Denig__ 1383
SMOKING ; WAR. Des Moines, reference to___---- 10
Daxora, fight of, with Herantsa_ 192 | Dogims, use of the word__------ 1388
DANCES: DoawyMErar. feast) ofs=s2s-2ss== 72

Bi wort, Wilonese2 se = 124 | Dogs:

Buffalo, description of__--- 66 anecdotes about____-______ 233

costume of eunuchs at_---- 182 similarity of, to wolves_-___ 239

female solo, described__--- 42 treatment of_______-. 196-197, 250

Iowa, description of----_~-~ 41-42 use made of_______-_____ 239, 293

OF stachenny (ch) eee eee 80 DOLORES, JOE:

Sun, practices, of..42--=--+ 106 MIGMHONNOL. Ao ute eden op 308,
DAUPHEN, brief account of___ 206-207 311, 319, 326, 330
Davip: story concerning_-----_-___ 121

misfortunes | Of. = =a. 202 | Worn:

wounded by Blackfeet-—~—- 247 murder committed by____-- 178
DECATUR, STEPHEN : : story concerning___-__-_-- 207

first Nebraska pioneer___-- 334 DORSON, TRADER:

7 meas t of_---------~----- 64, 66 arrival of, from Fort
EER: e
beauty of head of___----- 258-259 pee PE ROT aS he
: re mention of___--- 104, 106, 107, 167
black-tailed, description of. 247 % ane z
D'OTRENTE, CoMTE, reference to_ 65
Denie [Epwin T.]: :
Bee concerning tae 215-216 DRAWING, Indian ideas Of2 EE: 301
ate 5 Ducks, WILD, varieties of, at
author’s opinion of___------ 120 :

Character Of. 222s oe 123 Fort shige betes gt Rnb Te 325

Bere ccrishies, ofa 99g | DUELING, author’s opinion of___ 87-88

complaints about ___-___--- 101 | DWeELiines:

Griticism, OF... <2 PAL construction of__-_----__ OU

dance given by_--------_-- 124 of New Mexico tribes_----- 354

exacting nature of______--- 258 of the Iowa__------------ 40-41

Bite Prom 2). eben ors 209 Of the Omahaea=s2 2. a= 62

kindness of, to author_____ 122 of the Pawnee_----------- 61

manuscript prepared by_--- 135 | Hate:

mention 0f-2.<25-2-2 3 169, as emblem, discussion of._._ 133

185, 198, 213, 240, 248, 256, method of capturing__--_ 182-183

278, 317, 328, 329 EAGLE FEATHERS, value of_----- 182
opinion of, on love and mar- EARTH LODGES, Pawnee, mention

TAO a ee 180 Of See oe ee peek 61

3tzZ INDEX
Page , FLOODS: Page
EARTHWORKS, use of, in an at- atSt-- Josephs ee 48
Gackt Spas se Se al ee 128 at the horse camp_-----_- 812, 314
EASTERN TRIBES: Indian losses due to__ 264, 268-269
Civilizationvof=-=-— 2s 359 onvthe Ohio2 222 ssa PAN
See also Forest INDIANS. FONTANELLE, mention of ruins
EDUCATION : OfShL east aes. Se eee 60, 61
disadvantages of, for In- FONTANELLE, SAGAN, mention of_ 64
Gians 22 BE 45-46 | FoNTANELLE, TECUMSEH:
fitness of Indians for____ 287-288 accident; toe 65
Indian system of__._-___ 179-180 dance for curing injury of_ 66
ObjectssOfsesea= sea tas ok 291 | Forest INDIANS:
ELAPHUS CANADENSIS, habitat of. 255 burial customs of 353
ELK: place of, in human develop-
compared with stag_-------- 268 mentlls- 2226 ee 352
description of--..___--_- 253-254 See also EASTERN TRIBES.
habiterofe.. S22 eka Ie 270 | Fort ALEXANDER, reference to__ 205,
See also ELAPHUS CANADENSIS. 215, 235
ELK HORNS: Fort ARMSTRONG, reference to_- 16
SLOW UN OF eee ee 128 | Forr BENTON, mention of__---- 120,
musesmaderofae sees 251 225, 235, 274
ELK’s TEETH, use and value of-. 80, | Fort BrrTHoLp:

WO IN Nees ee en ee 86
ENGLISH, relations of, with the
Indians sees 2 eee 359-860
ENVIRONMENT, effect of, on
RACES See ee ee es 286
EPIDEMICS :
as punishment for theft__-__ 215
attributed to artists_-_____- 215

Indian alarnviat— 22s 98
See also CHOLERA.
EstoMAc DE CORBEAU, mention

Ofte ee ee 196, 198, 199
Hunvucus, costume of, at dances 182
EvANS, Proressor, mention of_- 69

EXpLosIon, on the Providence__ 16-17
FACIAL PAINTING, Assiniboin_-__ 327-
328, 328-329
FAMILY LIFE, INDIAN:
description of____------- 175-176
incident illustrating______- 294
See also CHILDREN; MAR-
RIAGE CUSTOMS; MEN; Wo-
MEN.
Fans, eagle feather, carried by
CHIC S eset = en eee ee eee 85
Frast, GLUTTON’S, description of. 166
FEerRYBoAT, method of propel-

FIRE SsTEEL, importance and
VUTEC MOL eee ere ee es

arrival ate eee 73
ehurech-control of 84
epidemic at. {eee 167
Indiansvillage\ ate 73
mention of 235
stop at, on homeward jour-
NCY = viene ere eee 330-331
Fort CLARKE:
Arikara ‘atu. 2a 72
mention-0f2= S222 235, 300, 331
Fort HALL, mention of____----_ 235
Fort LARAMIE:
adjournment of conference
at. 2a en) oe 221
mention Of... 220, 235
Situation 0h 228

Fort LooKovur:

mentionwoOfes 22222 ee 235

TUS Ole 332
Fort MEDICINE, mention of__—_- 76
Fort NEDEUNE, ruins of____-_--~ 332
Fort PIERRE:

reference to________- 235, 304, 382

stop” ‘at.222 = eee (il
Forr UNIon:

arrival ates so eee ee 120

banishment of author to_-__ 107

climate™sicee ose 168

duties of employee at-_---- 223

fur company owning_---_-- 156

INDEX ate
Fort Union—Continued. Page | GAMES—Continued. Page
journey to, on horseback_ 107-120 plate, description of__-___~- 148

OCA tHONS Of ses Sk eee Sy 119
MEMTLO NI pO hah At 235
tribes represented at____
Fort VERMILION :
abandonment of__--_---_~- 70

ACK “Ol a re 235
Fort WILLIAM:
Cirerertyy@1] oye) Pe oe en ea 119
SNC Ol a= ee ee 248
Four BEARS, CHIEF:
THE MOT Of nee = et ae 198
See also QUATRE OURS.
Four Rivers, a Crow chief____- 243
FowLer, County CLERK, tavern
|OTUUKE Oh es ea ee ee 54
Fox INDIANS:
division of, into factions___ 19
VEST L020 = a 19
MENTION © O lesa Le 18
met with in St. Joseph_____ 30
reference to wars with____ 33
sketches made of__-_2--=__ 49
use made of, by English___- 33
See also MUSQUAKEE; SAUK
AND Fox.
Foxes:

discussion of species of__ 185, 186

Crap PINRO Lass se oe 210
See also Cross-Fox.
FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN, opinion
of, regarding nationalemblem_ 133
FREEMASONS, author’s opinion
CONGCMINC S02 2 2 28 Be 301
FuR TRADE:
articles bartered in_-____-- 234
GENLERS MOR nese ot Ee he 26

details of organization of 234-235
See also TRADERS; TRADING

COMPANIBS; TRADING
POSTS.
FuRS:
discussion of prices of___-_ 234
See also SKINS.
GAGNON) mention Of 24-22. 106
GALmNA, description of_______--_ 18
GAMBLING, rules for____---_-__ 148
GAMES:
description) of 22232 =.22— 147-148
guessing, with bullet-ball_ 200-201
Indian fondness for_---- 146-147
of Assiniboin women _-_--_- 263

poker, author’s opinion of. 299-300

stakes wagered on__--____ 148

stick, description of____-_-
GAREAU, PIERRE:

mention of____ 73, 96, 1038, 105, 303

MmIsconduehot=s=——— =e 84
put in charge of post-__--__ 79
GARION, marriage of daughter
OLS ss sei 2 ee Se el 169-170
GAUCHER:
Assiniboin chief___.__._-___- 179
removal of rival of__-_.--- 179
GENEROSITY, Indian attitude
towards se 154
GENS DES FILLES:
an Assiniboin band_---__ 294, 311
mentionvoL2==a ee 311
GENS DES RocHEs, mention of__ 193
Girts, Indian attitude concern-
iN Gs sae ae eee ee ee 269
GIRL BAND:
an Assiniboin band_-------~- 311
See also GENS DES FILLES.
GIRLS:
earlyamatouritysote =e. = 96
training Of = = eee 351-352
GLUTTON FEAST, description of__ 166

Gop RUSH, description of_ 46-48, 52-53
GoLpD SEEKERS, misfortunes of__- 47
Goop Topacco, death of woman

Callede se re ee 214
GoosE, WILD, description of__--- 329
GRAND MANDAN, mention of-__-__ 165
GRAYHEAD:

MENON Ole eee ae eee 260
Origin Of NAME) Ofs== == 262
“GREASER”’, origin and applica-

Hionwok woewnamMes=s=—=s———=— 30
GREENE, GENERAL, Mormons de-

Celveds DY 222-2 eee 11
GREETING, Indian _ etiquette

Of 225 ae 115, 172-173
Gros VENTRES:

a name for the Herantsa__- 81

a name for the Minnetaree_ 74

inappropriate name of_---- 81

mentiony Ofes = eee 109

Guts, of the Missouri River_-_ 331
HIAILSTORMS, welcomed by In-

Giang) 2a eee 82

374 INDEX

Harr: Page Page
gray, among the Mandan___ 88 | Hopparp, CAPTAIN, mention of__ 4
Indian manner of wearing- 88 | Horse cAMP:

HAIR DRESSING: object of transfer to______ 306
of the, Towa Sis series abe 38 Crip tO 10 TE 305
of the Sauk and Fox______ 39 | Horse sTEALine, followed by

HALF-BREEDS : lynching, ~-<.-220 AND 68
battle of, with Sioux____ 191-192 | Horsrs:

Chippewa, description of___ 190 author’s speculation in____ 55—59
Chippewa, hunting expedi- wild, chase and capture of_ 140-141
iON Of 22 — ee Seeee 191 | Hupson Bay Company, criti-

HANNIBAL, STEAMER, trip on____ 20-21 cism: :0f2..2..--3 Eee eee Acie

HAPPINESS, discussion of mean- HUMBOLDT, ALEXANDER VON, rec-

ng Of 22 == i Pee es Fars 151 oMmmendationyorss22= sees 2
FaArvVEY, bourgeois at Fort Wil- HUNTERS:

VISES 60 NS a EE A 240 customs Of2 2. ee 309-310
HAWKINS, JIM, adventures of_ 101-102 duties-0f.22 oss ee ee 309
HAWTHORN, JIM: qualifications of=2-—- === 180-181

quanrel) swath= 222 ee. coe 252-253 rightsofs Oe ae 307-308
reference to__-_______ 231, 241, 269 | Hunrine:

HEADDRESS : a community affair________ 174
chiefs value ofsos. 22 eee 129 devices used in__________ 141-142
feather value of 22-22-22 269 independent, difficulties of. 265

HEBREW ORIGIN OF INDIANS, dis- rules* Ofewe<2 4) a ee 174-175

cussion of__--.____ 284-287, 291-292 See also BUFFALO HUNT.

HIERANTSA! HUNTING EXPEDITIONS, metifs’,

a name for the Hidatsa____ 36, 80 account Of: = 2. =. See 191
agriculture practiced by__-__ 290 | IMMIGRANTS:
and Yanktonai, warfare be- attitude of, toward mar-
URSIN ct ga eh 184 Mages: aes ee 22
at war with Assiniboin___._. 179 return of, to Europe_____ 347-348
beauty of form of_________ 82 | ImMorTALITY, Indian conception
billiard game of____--___~- 147 Of 2A a 151
cholera .among—==- Ss -== 196, 221 | INDEPENDENCE, a fur _ traders’
cleanliness 0te222 22-2 149 TENG e7zVOUS==22 sss => ee eee 26
clothing Obs a eaee ee 36, 80 | INDIANS:
correct mame Of22222- 228 192 discussion of civilization
description of chief of-____ 95-96 OE am ate ne nl 356-359
epidemic among___________ 107 discussion of mental de-
fight of, with Dakota______ 192 Velopment, Ole aaa 349-350
mention of______ 109, 167, 225, 295 discussion of rights of___ 125~126
MNeTAhlOM. Ole see 106 STAC Of ea 3 ee eee 38
MUM DOT MOL a= =o eee eee 283 life among sao 22s 87
origin tradition of_______ 279-283 philosophy. Of ses == eee 352
peace pipe sacred among___ 183 physical characteristics of_ 39
relations of, with Mandan- 284 | INFANTICIDH, reasons for_______ 208
WALT ECS O Lae eee 184, 283 | INFIDELITY, among Indian wo-

HERANTSA LANGUAGE: DO 5) Ye teppei kL 239-240
author’s instruction in-____ 81 | INSURANCE, dishonest collection
translation of few words of. 250 OL Lae seers ree penne 838-339

HERMAPHRODITES, frequency of. 211 | INTERPRETERS, wages of_______ 286

HIDATSA: Iowa:

MENON Olle seen en eee = 73 classification ote eee 39
See also HERANTSA, Clothing (Of. = a asst Sea 36

INDEX 375

IowA—Continued. Page | Lapor: Page
CANCE ORES Se ae ot as Domes 41-42 division of, among Indians- 289
friendly nature of_________ 33 Indian attitude toward_-__ 227
SAMS OL. See al Pit 147 | La Bovugr, Frep, mention of —--- ral
hairdressing offs. 22-2 ee! 38 | LACLEDE, STEAMER, travel on_--- 13-14
land) granted ito__ 23S) 83 | LACOMBE, FATHER CHARLES:
met with in St. Joseph____ 30 PUTPOSE Of ea eh 84
mustoniunes | ofe sor eis 33-34 visit of, at Fort Berthold__ 82-83
physical characteristics of. 36,38 | LA FLECHE, JOSEPH, mention
tattooing among_________ 173, 174 Of a le wohl ete ess 64, 66, 334

IOWA LANGUAGE, study of______ 43 | La FLECHE, Mary, mention of-_ 334

Iowa Point, brief description La FLescHE, FRANCIS, mention

(Git— SE en aT ee Oe eae ok 60 Of atch _iek ne ee a 334

ISLE DE BONHOMME: LAFONTAINE, BATTISTE, mention
brief description of________ 333 Ofizasa tee rab sie Sd ae oe 194
prospective trading post at_ 70 | LA GRANDE CHEVELURE:

JAMESTOWN (JEINTOWN), aban- chief of the Herantsa___-_~- 95

GONMENt VOLS eas sips 53 deseription! of. = 95-96
JEWS: LA LONGUE CHEVELURE:
theory of Indian descent a celebrated speaker__-_-- 85
TOM eee =~ ee aD 11 ceremonial costume of__--- 88
See also HEBREW ORIGIN OF mention of. === es eee 97
INDIANS. LA MAIN POQUE:
KEOKUK, reference to town of_ 10 Assiniboin commanded by_- 320
Kerokuk, CHIEF, treaty made mention of222-- aes 328
[Oy ee 2 ee SI eee ee 18-19 | Lampert, story of vengeance

KICKAPOO: Olsen Se SS 207-208

complaint Orit: against LAND, Indian rights to-___----- 288

VVC Semen eee yd Set ev 40 | LANDRY, disappointment caused
country inhabited by__---- 26, 40 DY 22 3 ee ee 333
met with in St. Joseph_--- 380 | LANGUAGES:

KinessorovucH, Lorp, theory of, Absaroka, words in_------_- 250

CL Cg os ee be ee 285 Assiniboin, words in_--_~ 197, 301

KGPLAND; Mention of2_4 4 24_ = 317 Chippewa, words in_-__-~ 202, 238

Kipp, Mr.: Herantsa, words in__----~ 197, 250
assistance of, in recording Indian, recording of_ 238, 364-365

Mandan language____-_- 364 Siouan, words) ine2=2==t-s= 238
eccentricities! of. -— == 103 various Indian, words in-___ 170
management of post by_-_- 78-79 | La PIERRE, ANTOINE:

Mention (OLA! 73, 87, 97, 98, 99, adventure of, with deer. 317-318
100, 103, 104, 105, 123, 196, 303 attacked by Blackfeet--_ 247-249

KIRUTSCHE: MENLO Mu Oke =e a 25s,
anelowal chiehs 20th 2 ent 40 278, 308, 322, 323, 324
mentioniof. 22 / ert. Maes ee 41 | La QuEUE ROUGE:

KNIFE: Dav ery...0f-.—--- eae 102
Assimiboin’ chicks eas 183 MEN(dOMe Ola eee 106, 262
burial conducted by_---- 218-219 | L’ARMURE DE FER, mention of___ 193
story concerning_—-----~ 237-238 | LAws, AMERICAN :

KNISTENAUX, population of____ 165 Criticismeofeoese=2 eee 12-13

LABERGE, CAPTAIN, mention of__ 7 criticism of application of_ 337-338

La BoMBARDE, mention of___--~ 250, CVasionnots® Se teaes 9 339-340

974, 278, 324 | L’Eavu qur Court, mention of___ 333

§1634—37 25

376

Lr Bonur Court QUEUB:
death of, avenged by Sau-

Page

murder of, by Sioux__-----

Le FouRBILLON, exploits of_____ 243
LEGGINS, tribes distinguished by_ 34
Le GRAS:
mention Oftateee as ee, 267, 293
persistent begging of______ 268
LE Gros FRANCAIS, widow of___ 193

Lr Loup Court QUEUB, mention

100, 102, 196, 198
Le NeEz pD’Ours, mention of____ 196
LE TET® DE Bokur, mention of_ 115, 116

Le TETE DE Loup, mention of___ 115
Lr Tout Piqutk, ceremonial pres-
entation tomete see or wate an 52 203
L’HoMME DE Norp, death of-___- 214
Lisa, MANUEL, story about_-__- 66-67
LODGE :
Iowa, construction of__-__- 40-41
soldiers’, use of____________ 173
Loc cABIN, American, descrip-
PLOT YO Pate bie bree cree co fede 6
Louis PHILIPPE:
gift from, to Iowa chief____ 42
MENTION Zot ss s= See eee 40

L’Ours Fou. See Ours Fou.
LYNCHING, as punishment for

HOLSeMSte nine = sess ee 68
MACKENZIE, OWEN:

adventure, of 202 odes ne 172
buffalo hunt with-___--~- 138-141
MENON Ofe he ete _ Hees, 122;
126, 222, 246, 298, 304
skill of, in shooting__-_____ 194
Map Berar, CHIEF:
charmymade: foyes 22 5 As 294
DIAM SOF 4 a= eee hay 295
See also Ours Fou.
Mapboco, reference to Welsh col-
GUiVM Ole se. ee eh geen 100
MANDAN:
cholera among____----_--~ 80, 221
MENON VOLS 3225 A Nee sees 196, 225
population, of =-—-*e -22ie 165
relations of, with MHer-

PINGS aaa oA eee erates 284
Settlement jot. =— 34 syahags 72
Sin vboatspofsive ache oh 100
theory concerning origin of. 100

MANDAN LANGUAGE:
authors study ‘of22 se 364-365
dictionary xOfes=2——- 222-2 = 17, 78

INDEX

MANGEURS DE LARD: Page
Canadian woodsmen, de-
seribed 2). surest ae ee 30-31
origin of the name________ 123
MARRIAGE:
immigrants’ attitude _ to-
Wardiaessas . titled piri 22
Indian man’s attitude in___ 155

Indian woman’s attitude in_ 155
of author, to Indian girl___ 50-52
MARRIAGE CUSTOMS, AMERICAN, in

the, Westess1sh. “hebrf — mae 22-23
MARRIAGE CUSTOMS, INDIAN:

concerning elopements_____ 86

concerning infidelity_______ 96-97

concerning polygamy____ 143, 350
concerning son-in-law_____- 157
concerning wife’s sisters. 155-156
stories illustrating_______- 43-45,
169-170, 244-245

MARTIN, CHARLES:

mention sof eee ate 63
story, told, by222. 2-2 ae 207
MARyYATT, CAPTAIN, theory of,

Cite did 10.23 wet eee 285
MEAt, value of, in trade________ 216
MEDICINE BIRDS AND BEASTS, ta-

boos! ;concernings 2-4 esee 182
MEDICIND DOLL, description of__ 315
MEN, INDIAN:

occupations of______~ 176, 350, 353
speech of, different from
WOMGN’ S32 ee 365
See also FAMILY LIFE; La-
BOR; MARRIAGE CUSTOMS;
SOLDIERS,
METALS, use of, by Indians_____ 289
METIFS:
attitude of, at Fort Union. 252
See also HALF-BREEDS.
MEXICAN WAR:
author’s opinion on__--___- 9
author’s plans affected by__ 4
recruiting for.=— == sae 9
MICHEL, ALFRED:
acknowledgment to______-~- 10
mention Ofet 22:52 ees ree 15, 20
MIMICRY OF ANIMALS, Indian
cleverness jimei2sie2o5—-2 4s = 201

MInpD, reference to paintings of. 273
MINNETAREE :
description of village of__ 73,7
MENDON) Of. 2a ee eee 76
7

INDEX 377
Page Page

MISCARRIAGES, self-induced___-~- 208 | NaAMeEs, custom concerning__---- 157

MISSIONARIES : NAUvvoo:
obstacles encountered by--- 298 description of Mormon
visit of, at Fort Berthold__ 82-83 temple \ ate ees 2ee ees 11-12

MISSISSIPPI RIVER: Mormon struggle at___-_--_ 10
Paps! Ofsat28 Soe eS 18 | Navano, dwellings of._-------- 354
VOVALe Upetee ne eS se 5-8, 15-18 | NecKLAckE, bear-claw, barter

Missourt River, dangers in navi- Ie EN tae oh Ae ese 259

eM ONAO Pee a hs SS 27-28 | NEGROES:

MITCHELL, COLONEL: Customs Ofe 2 ee 8
bourgeois at Fort Union---- 169 dance Of. AE Deh Rie ay 69
Crecicn) (of => 221 swimming stroke of____--__ 62
dictionary compiled for_--- 77 | Ne“~pRuM, bourgeois at Fort

MoccasIN GAME, description of. 147 Mexander.-t see ee ee 205

MOCCASINS : Neu WIED, PRINCE VON:
of the Omaha-_---~------- 64 Mandan language recorded
Ct a Sic: 64 bya cee Dia ee 364.

MONROE, PRESIDENT, opinion ex- mention of__________ 3, 65, 73, 130

pressed by------------------- 63 | New Mexico tribes, buildings

MONTAGNARDS : te SO Re 353-354
descriptiony'0fs22— 22-5225 31 | New ORLEANS:
use of the name_--------_- 31 reference to slave sales in_- 4

MorGaAn, mention of-_-_---__-_- 132, swamps near___----------- 1

205, 246, 278, 284, 293, 308, 305, New YEAR, custom observed at_ 256
306, 309, 310, 314, 317, 318, 323, | ne, p'Ours, elopement of wife
824, 330, 334 a Ph Sala Petias een eeu AOR Oe 86

MORMONS : NIAGARA FALLS, abandonment of
characteristics of2222=--==- alt rtp ton coe eee 346
CUSTOMS Of Se ee ee 12

‘i E 3 NvupIrTy :
Sess of--- 10-11, 48, 63, 334 in art, discussion of_____-- 92-94
oe Rigs arimaaale ah Indian, discussion of______- 88-89
railroad planned by-——--—- fe Opp FELLows, author’s opinion
temiplevio fits. . Ae 5 et 11-12 a Soe veettnce oo AOR, Ei 301
MOTHER-IN-LAW, custom concern- OFAN. mierition of 234
7: 35 ee 259 Osipwa. See SAUTEURS.

eounD eet OLD PEOPLE, treatment accorded. 193
GivaliZavion. Ofssae eee 354 P
discussion of identity of... 355 a :

Movunps, antiquity of__-------- 100 hace ie Ee oki haiaiee ae

oo ae MIStOEtUNeS Ors ee 66
application of the name____ 30 ‘

COsStuMehoOLoee Le ees 134 moccasins Ot ————_—_—-_--- a

eG reference tos 25 os ee 298
description vofi.ss.4. 23223 30 Pim OR a 60
use made of the name_---- 125 ee ar we BELT 1 ae Be

MovuRNING CUSTOMS: OMAHA VILLAGE, Visit jC ane 61
Wa ainipuinlel e808 214, 219, 242 Oratory, of the Indians__-_-—— 179
CSE petA Nh sich daly nana pe Lass 156 ORIGIN OF INDIANS, discussion
GISGHSSion (Offeieeh set a: 157 of ---------------- 284-287, 291-292

MULHAUSEN, misfortune of_____ 385 | ORNAMENTATION, Indian fond-

Murray, ENGLISH ENVOY, novel ness for__-_---------------- 351

spate ery Bite ese as ge te det 131 | OSWEGO, STEAMER, trip on_----~ 21

MUSQUAKEE, a synonym of OTo:

MO KES Tee 2 SS ee 30 kindred of the Iowa__----- 39

378 INDEX
Oto—Continued. Page | Prcorrr, W.: Page
mentions ofl Lease Ci ae 30 advice of, ‘to author=-_- 2 65
trading, placesofs 22s s_ as 60 mention of. 70
Ours Fou: (2 (Doon
appointed chief of Assini- POSts in charee vot =a 235
boiis 222 54 wae 220, 294 | PrcrocRAPH, on tree___________ 309
deathlotsoniol ase eees 214 | prara:
grief displayed by_-------- 221 MOCCASINS (Ole eee 64
mention of______ 250, 257, 263, 293 trading post Obl Le eee 66
parting “with2. 2222-22252 311 | pipe:
plans of--------_-_------- 300 ceremonial smoking of___ 203, 262
See also Map Buar. of peace, sanctity of-_----- 183
PACKINAUD: red sandstone, value of---_ 257
friendship of, with Herant- use of, in peace overtures__ 171
Sa 198 | Prats Gamm, description of___-- 148
injury of__------------- 162,209 | prarre PurcHasn, extent of-__ 33
mention of_-__--__- 168, 246,270 | porn, Pir, Denig reproached
Stony wtoldaby=. 2 eee 192, 279 by ee 210
Pace, Captain, piety of------- 20,21 | porrrican PRACTICES, criticism
PAINTING: Of. to a 10
author's plans 1 (0) ee eee 144 Pare
illness attributed COs Re 218, 214 defeace of by Dec aaa 210
in oils, discussion of_____~_ 135 = ee
; : z GISCUSSION Ole =e 11
Indian belief concerning... 144 he A fe f. 155
See also Art; ARTISTS. DIACH CS: Of oases ae
eae hd TeasoOn tO 22-2. 350
PAINTINGS, INDIAN, public indif- De ee an ee 71
FET OTC CuO Meera aie ue hires eek =. 273 Ae an a
PALEsIEUx, MRr., hunting plans CS 2
Colt otha iemed a rine 264-265: Cialazaien affected by den-
PALISADES, construction of__-__ 122 suey CiSsesa= ok a 289
Papin, Mr., posts under super- white, Indian ignorance of. 144
acleten ae dt 1 le pe lamer bre mea eg 935 | PorcuPINEs, damage wrought by- 72
PATHFINDER: PORTRAITS :
Aasiniboin. Chietl. <<. 2o05. 183 Indian belief concerning— 95,
Story, conceminge =. eas 183 98, 212
PATTNEAU, reference to_------ 121 See also ARTISTS; PAINTING.
PAWNEE: POTAWATOMI :
classification of__-_.---___ 165 clothing of = eae 36
Gontnime oOf2ecan abe ea te 61 met with in St. Joseph___- 30
dwellings Gite 222. 61 physical characteristics of_ 36
mention of school for___-—- 60 relations of, with the Eng-
PeLtot, story concerning_____ 237-238 Ushe== =e eee 33
PERUVIANS, pastoral life of____- 286 removal of--> 23s es 33
PETRIFIED TREES, occurrence of__ 111 skill of, with bow and ar-
Pra Rock, pictograph on__-__-_ 15-16 Lowes eit Ay oho 55
Prasa, reference to_------_____ 15 visit to settlement of_______ 37
PicorTEH, JOE: PRAIRIE FIRES:
DeTeeMentaWal a= =e 256 danger of, exaggerated___-- 332
THEM PLO AO teeter eee 119 started. by Indians=e2sea22 331
126, 197, 213, 248, 263 | Prarrre INDIANS:
misrepresentations of___-__ 234 burial customs" of. 2-2222_—2 353
portrait made of________- 127, 141 civilization Of.-===240"s 358-359
treachery attributed to__.__ 246 place of, in human develop-
ViSIE toss Saleh ie. Fee 314-315 Metite2.2-).<042 250s 349

INDEX 379
Page Page
PRAIRIQ TURNIP, mention of, as Rock Istanp City, mention of_- 16
FOO Chee ee ESN SAT 193 | Roor DiccErs:
PREDESTINATION AND FREE WILL, eiyalhizationvots22 358
Giscussion Wofs. 2 pres 275-278 place of, in human develop-

PRICES : Men hee Ls. EAS Se eee 349

of commodities in the West. 129 territory occupied by_----- 349

_ values measured by_------- 168 | RoTTENTAIL:
PRIMEAU, HArvEY & Co., men- Absaroka chiet=22= = 211
LOMO LHe Of Sees ee ee eat 304 description» of} ==22===="= 211-212

PRISONERS: mention of__ 240, 242, 252, 264, 269
custom concerning__-__-___ 143 use made by, of painting___ 213
Sulevot,. by. Crows) 2222 114 | Roures oF TRAVEL, between St.

PROVIDENCE, STHAMER, accident Louis and New York-__--- 348-344

tif {2 eS eee 16 | SappiEs, of the Crows-----.~--- 260

QUATRE OURS: St. ANGE, STEAMER:
an Herantsa chief______ 85, 95-96 Menton "Ola = eee 86
MICHLLOMN RO tse ee Fe ee 221 Lip ONS 5.2 Se eee 69-73
See also Four Bears. St. JOSEPH:

QUETZALCOATL : as a trading center____---- 26, 30
MentowoOfs__hss44 1 es Vs 365 brief description of_--_---- 29
al i) oe 307 growth and prospects of_-- 53

QuicHvA, pastoral life of_______ 286 real estate values in_---_-- 54

RACES OF MAN, discussion of ori- TEtUnN GOe ee ee: eee 335

SG) Ce 284-287 tribes frequenting------__- 30

RAILROAD : St. Louis:

Tilinois’ attitude toward__- 54 a fur-trading center____--- 26
projected, to Palmyra______ 3 antiquities” tect) 2 er ees 26-27

Rains, trial of, for bigamy____ 12-13 celebration of founding of__ 10

RAPE, en masse, cases of_______ 166 opportunities for artist in-__ 89

RED WING, STEAMER, voyage on- 17-18 prospects’ ofeece= ees 53-94

REID, CAPTAIN MAYNE: TECUrN tO eee oe ee 335
cited on land rights_______ 288 trees of vicinity of___.---- 336
CEitsecism), Of. ..3.. 2d se ee 288 | Sam Fox, sHIP, voyage on__-_ 346-348

RELIGION : SAPSUCKER:

Catholic, best suited to In- an Absaroka chief___----_- 184
USAT <2 EERE a 210 honor pHrid” tO2=——22- ee 256
Christian, reflections on____ 152 mMentiony Of ee 251

RELIGIOUS SERVICES, criticism of_ 54-55 EQCHiCS™ OL ee eee 184-185

RIwpie, SAM, homicidal act of. 336-337 | Sarpy, PETER A.:

RicHTs oF INDIANS, discussion mention: of22 Sse) sae 64, 234

(7 eae A0DS eee eee Oe 125-126, 136-1387 trading house or 60

RIVER STEAMERS, payment of SaAvUK AND Fox:

AR Ole ONE ot ee ce ilr¢ brief description of_------- 39

Rivers, Indian manner of cross- See also Fox INDIANS.

BET ests 2 lin ei ctenel eI ae 167 | SAUTEURS:

ROBERT CAMPBELL, STEAMER: Glothingvof2 eee ee 36, 156
arrival of, at Fort Berthold_ 86 tattooing among__-------_- 174
MENWOMAOf === sD 263 visit of, to Fort Berthold__ 84-85

Ropipoux, JOSEPH: SAVANNAH, reference to__------ 53
business ventures of__----- 54 | “Sawyers,” danger of____------ 28
death of son! oes ssa 68 | ScAFFOLD BURIAL, description of_ 75-76
Reference; tO. eee 29 | Scatp, BLACKFEET, gift of, to

stories abouts Sees 67

AUtRO Rs ee ee 213-214

380 INDEX

SCALPING: Page | SoLpIERS, INDIAN—Continued. Page
CUStOMS, Of 22 See ae 350-351 family lifevofess. = Ser 175-176
of Cree woman _—- oe 160 qualities tion for =e 173

SCALPING PARTY, account of wel- recreationmof22.2_2*e2 see 175

COME ibO =e 5 ee ee 77 | Sone. See SinciIne; Wak SONG.
SCANDLING, FATHER, misadven- SPANIARDS, relations of, with In-

AIRC Withers ee ae ic 83 GANS ea 2 Set EAE eee 359
SOHEEGEE, DOSt Ob-2=5- ==) ase 333 | Sprcractes, Indian amazement
ScHOOL, JoHNSON’S, for Indian Qtl Lae ke AO Se eae eS 197

[Kons eel ee aoe Pe 45 | Spirits, Indian belief in________ 161
SELKiIRK, Lorp, descendants of SpPoTTeD Horn:

GOLOTRY) Obese ee ee a 190 Assiniboin chief______-____ 183
SERGEANT’S BLUFF, stop at_---- 70 Story, told) oftau" = sashes 183-184
SICKNESS, caused by artist’s STAGECOACH, travel by_-----_-~ 344-345

Sketchesssas2. 25 eee 95, 98, 212 | STEAMERS, RIVER:

SIGN LANGUAGE, usefulness of__ 32 customs observed on_______ 2

SINEw, use of, for thread__-__~ 261 description, Of 2s eaees 7-8

SINGING: speed . of. —.- === ee eee 28
amMOne laditanse ase 224 travel byse2es. sah: Gaia 5, 7-8
See also War song. STIck GAME, description of_____ 148

SIOUX: SToIcisM oF INDIAN, discussion
adventure with_____-----~ 160-161 Of ee WO on Co ae ae 154, 221
at war with Assiniboin_____ 179 | Suckers, application of the
attacks of, on Minnetaree__ 74 names: ti Anieorantie ete Bee 10
Daaolke of). swith) shali- SUICIDE:

HICCON S222 o eee 191-192 case of, among Assiniboin-_ 216
CIASSIICATIOR Of oe 165 discussion vof-f22)) ees 219-220
earthworks erected by----- 128 Indian attitude toward_---_ 219
MCNMHOM Gl. = > So. 81, 170, 295 of girl storyroiss to ee 143
Dipessmade, by <2. 52)... 257 | Sun Dance, practices of__-__-- 106
population Ole —= ee 115 | Surrer, SoLorHURN YON, men-

pronunciation of the name 229
region occupied by_--------
SKETCHES, as cause of sick-
NCGS) oS ee ee 95, 98
Skins, method of dressing_. 261-262
Stavery, Necro, discussion of. 231-232
SmirH, mention of___ 278, 306, 308, 326

SmirH, Jerr, story concerning-_ 196
SMITH, JOSEPH:

mention of claim of_-----.~ all

MUTGeM) Of] eee ek 13
SMOKING:

ceremonial, with mourners. 209

etiquette of __-_--.-_-- 172-1738, 194

habits of, among Indians___ 1938
Swagse danger of:.-22 2-5-2: 2— 27-28
SNAKES, Indian attitude toward_ 86
SoclAL ORGANIZATION OF THE

ITEC eo 8 To ene 182

SocIAL RELATIONS IN THE TRIBE. 352
SoLpIERS, INDIAN:

Geseription jot 22-s--2.255 174

Guiles Of 224 oe eee 174

tion Of: 2h. tease ee eee 46
SWAN, AMERICAN, distinguishing

characteristic of ____-.-=2-3= 325
SWIMMING:
Indian fondness for_._---~ 149

Indian manner of__..----— 61-62

Swiss CoLony, obstacles to
TOUNGING OFS" See ae 348
SWITZERLAND, prices in__----_-- 168
TABOOS :
concerning names of bands. 182
concerning names of the
Gad tn aie eh eae 157
medicine birds and beasts__ 182
mother-in-law_-------__- 157, 259
mother-in-law, story refer-
TINS COLES ee a ho ee aly(at
TALLAHASSEE, STEAMER, voyage
OFM ee ee ee ob
TAMEGACHE, portrait made of_- 65
TAMERLANE, STEAMER, voyage
ON 5S ee 2 27-29
TANINI, sketch made of_------~- 66

INDEX 381
Page | TRAVOIS: Page
TATTOOING, customs and mean- track ett: py 2S eee 109
THANE? «709 Cs Rab pie el ap 0 Ra ee 173-174 ISG y Oh e want te ae 146
TAYLOR, CAPT. ZACHARY: TREATY OF GHENT, lands al-
MEMMONN Ofs= 22a ee 18 lotted by, to Potawatomi____~_ 33
reception of, in New TREATY OF HorsE SHOE CREEK,
Ornleans*al vere ioe NS 20 NeLerencey COL a. ee eS 300
TECHIDINGUE, portrait made of_ 64 | TREATY, PROPOSED, criticism of__ 228
TECUMSEH, mention of_________ 33 | TRIBES, divisions and subdivi-
TEHNEGECH, portrait made of__ 64 SLOTS HO ba ee ea eee 182
TEMPEST, STEAMER, travel on_ 10, 13-14 | VALETTE, mention of_____ 298, 313, 324
TENT DWELLINGS, construction VAN HOoOcKEN, FATHER:
(Op Pee te ae eee ea oe eg ee 307 CUTTY OR( 0 Le teas Reman Re eR 7
TEOCALLIS, discussion of, as MENON sO fee ee ee 69
proof of Indian origin-_-__ 362-363 | Vapor BaTH, use of_____-__-__ 103-104
TETON Sioux: VENGEANCE, among Indians___ 148, 179
Mention OLS ess se 175 | VimANDRE, anecdote concern-
trading placevoOr Sess s see 71 Ti Rie et ODN Mt pina EIDE 168-170
THEFT, among Indians________ 96,321 | VipnacEs:
Time, Indian attitude toward__ 167 description of life in___-___ 350
Tosacco, Indian substitute for__ 194, size of, affected by nomadic
209, 243 Tip ceer as CA ees ee 350

Tourecs, culture of__ 355, 357-358, 359
TRADE, INDIAN:

articles used in__-_~--- 86, 93, 234
VaAlwer Orme nty iss ss 216
TRADERS :
CUSCOMISNOL= en ee 175
marriage of, with Indians__ 156
opposition of, to civilizing
thes Unga ss aie,

relations of, with Indians_ 171-172

rivalry between___------ 186, 216

tricks resorted to by------ 66-67
TRADING COMPANIES:

competition between_ 234, 253, 304

headquarters) of 2222-2 == 134

influence of, on Indians.___ 360
TRADING POSTS:

division of profits of--_--- 235

duties of clerk at--____-- 240-241

employeesn atse 2222 = see 123
hospitality: ates see= 263
legal decision regarding-.__ 230
life of employees at__---- 236-237
location’ of Sse 234
management of__------~- 123-124
organization of-2-—-----—_ 235-236
wages paid employees at_-__ 236
TRANSPORTATION, difficulties
Oe ee RE hale ae aD ae ae 225-226

TRAPPERS, discussion of rights
FA Pa AS ee OL le ee Ue Steen eps 125-126

VINES OF THE CAHOKIA FOREST__ 14-15
Von Basset, J. Sparr, reference

LOW a so A See See sees 335
WAASCHAMANI, CHIEF, portrait
IMAGO OL ee Pe ha eae 2 Eee 65
WA&AKUSCHE, portrait made of___ 64
IW-AMPUM.. US@: (Of 2 ese eee 251
WAR:
Customs ole 165

importance of, in Indian
Aah Geese: Se A Le 295, 350

object soughtin==]--_-==== 142
War sone, description of__---- 218
WAREAGLE, STEAMER, reference

EO Ee 2s Sa SI RSS 20
Warriors. See Soxrprers, In-

DIAN.

WASCHINGA, reference to_------ §5
WATER, scarcity of, at Fort Ber-

GhHOl dae ee Be Se RES 99
WEAVING OF THE INDIAN WOMEN- 14
WEtss, HERMANN, mention of___ 100
WELSH coLony, reference to____ 100
WHIPPOORWILL, cry of____------ 333
WHISKY TRADE:

Denig’s opinion on__---~-~ 176-177

discussion of results of__ 176-177
WHITES:

Indian opinion of__------ 154, 205 >

influence of, on Indians__ 360-361

882 INDEX
Page ) WomeEN, INDIAN—Continued. Page
WIDMER, escort of Sutter’s wife_ 46 1AnOLLOL le a henege alas 350, 353
WIITHAE, daughter of lowa part taken by, in councils__ 184
ee 41 part taken by on buffalo
WIVES : hurt +2228) ota ae 146
pregnant, attitude toward__ 208 reerea tion (of. f= aban 176
runaway, treatment of_____ 86, speech of, different from
155, 207, 223-224 hh ee eee 365
See also FAMILY LIFBH; See also FAMILY LIFE;
WOMEN. WIVES.
WOLVES: YANKTON Sroux, location of____ 76
COlOT (0f2 eee DID 213) |) ANIK-TORATS
MDT SO Feat a aa Ee eae 182 and Herantsa, warfare be-
TAGHCS: Of eee Ae see ee 298-299 TWeO@NE 22222 i el 184
trapping OF 2252-222 225 210 group of, description of__._. 175
WomMEN, AMERICAN, criticism of. 23-24 revenge planned by_--_--__~ 103
WoMEN, INDIAN: YELLOWSTONE RIVER:
account of scalping of____ 77-78 claims concerning water of. 274
as burden bearers______-__ 719 flood ‘caused, by@-=2-=2=2"=— 264
Crow, privileges of________ 252 | YELLOWSTONE, STEAMER, refer-
Customs) ofe= = 173, 175-176, 244, ence t02:as253iar sb ee ae 65
CIEE SSM 0 fs ae ge eae 84-85 | ZepHir, reference to___-__--_-- 103

ne

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