It is easy for me to now sit down
and write out, if I choose, what ought to have been done; it is just
as easy for people safe in their own homes, far from the scene, to
talk, comment and tell how they would have acted and what they would
have done. But these people know no more about the situation or the
Indians, than I know about the Hindoos, their mode of life, or their
habits.
Before proceeding any further with my narrative--and I am now about to
approach the grand and awful scene of the tragedy--I will attempt, as
best I can, to describe the Indian war-paint--the costume, the head-
dress and attitudes. I imagined once that all the stories that
American novelists told us about the war-dance,--war-whoops,--war-
paint,--war-hatchet or tomahawk, were but fiction drawn from some too
lively imaginations. But I have seen them in reality, more fearful
than they have ever been described by the pen of novelist or pencil of
painter.
Firstly, the Indians adorn their heads with feathers, about six inches
in length and of every imaginable color. These they buy from the
Hudson Bay Company. Also it is from the Company they procure their
paints. An Indian, of certain bands, would prefer to go without food
than be deprived of the paint. Our Indians never painted, and in fact
Big Bear's band used to laugh at the Chippewans for their quiet
manners and strict observance of their religious duties.
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