is strong enough to do
justice to his admiration of some of them. We easily let pass such
phrases as the "wild and gentlemanly Mandans," for many observers have
reported that there is a native dignity and courtesy about the true
Indian. But there are other things which make it plain that Catlin, in
his extravagant admiration, where his Indian friends were concerned was
incapable of discriminating between the noble and the base. Here is an
instance:

A certain chief of the Mandans, Mah-to-toh-pa (the Four Bears), was
very friendly to Catlin, who painted his portrait, and who speaks of
him in terms of unbounded admiration. He gave his artist friend a
handsomely embroidered deerskin shirt on which he had depicted in
Indian fashion his various achievements. One, of which he was
especially proud, he recounted at length to Catlin, acting it out
before him, and he in turn relates it to his readers.

Mah-to-toh-pa had a brother slain--in open fight, let us remember--by a
Rickaree, who left his lance sticking in the dead man. Mah-to-toh-pa
found the body, drew out the lance, and carried it to his village,
where it was recognized as the property of a famous warrior named
Won-ga-tap. He kept the bloodstained weapon, {324} vowing that some
day he would with it avenge his brother's death. Four years passed by,
and still he nursed his wrath. Then one day he worked himself up to a
frenzy and went through the village crying that the day of vengeance
had come.

Off he started across the prairie alone, with a little parched corn in
his pouch, went two hundred miles, traveling by night and hiding by
day, until he reached the Rickaree village. Knowing it and the
location of Won-ga-tap's lodge--which suggests that he had visited the
place in some friendly relation--he entered at dusk and loitered about
for a time, and then through rents in the covering watched Won-ga-tap
smoke his last pipe and go to bed by the side of his wife. Then
Mah-to-toh-pah went in, coolly seated himself by the smouldering fire,
and, using the privilege of Indian hospitality, helped himself to meat
that was in a kettle over the embers, and ate a hearty meal.

"Who is that man who is eating in our lodge?" asked the wife several
times.

"Oh, let him alone. No doubt he is hungry," the easy-going Won-ga-tap
answered.

His meal finished, the intruder helped himself to his host's pipe,
filled and lighted it, and began to smoke. When he had finished,