University of Virginia Library

HEADQUARTERS, MEDICINE CREEK, Southern Indian Territory, April 9, 1869.

Yesterday I visited the Agency of the Affiliated Bands of Indians at the Wacheta Agency. They number about seven hundred souls, and are the remnants of what were once quite important and intelligent tribes—the Wichetas, Kerchees, Caddoes, Wacoes, and others. Their Agency is located about twenty-two miles north of this post, on the Washita river, in the midst of a beautiful and fertile plain, named the Eureka Valley. All the way up we found the prairies dotted with daisies of blue, purple, pink, and white colors, and other small flowers, some of which were quite fragrant. The valley was covered with new grass, long enough to wave in the wind. Our mules, which have suffered for the want of hay, enjoyed themselves highly in the evening, munching it, omitting their usual practice of taking a roll immediately after unharnessing. The first evening was spent in sketching the ranch and some of the squaws and papooses, and the night was passed in General Hazen's ambulance; our party consisted of the General; Colonel Boone, Indian Agent; a gentleman invited; Mr. Jones, interpreter, and Captain Gray, a witness required by law to vouch for the correctness of the issue of goods to the Indians.

We were up in time to see a beautiful sunrise across the prairie, and after an hour or two spent in sketching the locality, we saw the Indians arriving on horseback.

They came in groups of two or three, and as most of them were attired in gay colors and shining ornaments, and all are superb riders, they made a most picturesque scene.

I kept my pencil busily at work all the morning, interrupted occasionally by the curiosity of the squaws and papooses looking over my shoulder. They manifested great interest in what I was doing, and with mingled expressions of wonder and delight called each other's attention to it. On another occasion, with the Apaches, I found myself very unpopular while sketching, the art being considered by them as possessing magic, and they declared it to be "bad medicine;" a name they give to all offensive or injurious things. They sent for their medicine man, or doctor, whose skill consists chiefly in performing certain incantations and magic arts, whereby the evil spirit and disease is driven away. When this medicine man, a most ill-favored Indian, arrived, he looked over my shoulder, being watched intently by the other Indians, and declared that it was "bad medicine," spit at it, and soon they all looked daggers at me. Of course I discontinued the work, and ever since then I have been particular, either to make my sketches when they were not observing me, or first explain through the interpreter what I wished to do. When it is thus explained to them, I never have any trouble.

But to return to my story. When the tribes had all assembled, and the goods had been parcelled out to them in five separate lots, one for each tribe, the chiefs assembled together, and General Hazen sent for me. The interpreter, Mr. Philip McCusky, informed us that the chiefs wished to speak to us, and invited General Hazen to commence the talk.