. ' •', , - afl ar-i ‘ ... - ~ -c : :."-- if t p. . AO • refri,,,T. . .1 11111 1 , - - ' ll - 1 ':::: ,1 rvt• ... v . ~.:, .... ..,„. .. „...., .... ••., . ... ... ... . , ~:...., ...,....„ VS= .7„,r1 y e s .m. d• NIS ail ej 4 . - .V4ii -'2,4'.1 : -\ LI):•'c,a;I'CI)0 ~..%,... 5•?t,'...'4.-K As:,. . ' 4 'e t '?t , - 1 . % ' . 4/,, , r- - zr,..,, • C., .si•• ". •4 , .41' ' ' ' . -' 4 ‘-- " . " . '?: - 7.%jtil,' ' .. -...= tii, • * •.:./::- ' :-1- 7/..1,'"'`., - • "••••• • •- -.: - •r• ,), -'4,/, , ---14- ,e,- - -----,--- 7,-,....7 tit,-§ 1 4 ....'..."..-:.;-_--..- .4, • err . . "‘With fiweete.t flowers enriehNt. From varipturp‘rdeiu.coll'tl with rare." SUIVVYLER 7 S GONE. Hark, through the dim woodairying, With a moan, Faintly the woods nre sighing— Sulinneet4 gone ! There who - 1111y bruised hearkfveletli, Pinkly uly footstep stealeth • %veep moor. Hour oner hour I yvatider, By men 11/1.4CC11- And mully my wrung Ihonglits ponder, On ~ vhan huh: been: Summer's gone! There in our own green bowers I.ollj 01,,0 Our pvll through tangled flowers 'Pre:Mina., slow; Oft level and hand entwining— Oft side by side reclining— 'We've wwched in crimson shining The iwnrct, glow : Dimly the sun now hurnctli For mi. ixine— Spring after spring retunwth, But thou art..gone: Summer's gone! Still nn my warm cheek pinyeth The restless . hretze : Still in its freshness strayeth Between the trees. Still the blue sfreatnlet gusheth— Still the broad river rusheth— Still the calm silence husheth The hearts disease: But who shall bring our ineetings Back again 7 What shall recall thy greetings— Loved in vain Suinuner'H gone ! VarA a'TDDLJI.ti-x*.D271,) 'File Creole Village. IN travelling about our motley country, I am often reminded of Ariosto's account of the moon, in which the good paladin Astolpho found every thing garnered up, that had been lost on earth.— So I am apt to imagine, that many things lost in the old world, ire treasured up and perpetuated in rho new; having been continued from generation to generation, since the early days of the rolonic , . A European antiquary, therefore, curious in his researches after the ancient and almost obliterated customs and usages of his country, would do well to put himself upon the track of sonic early band of emigrants, follow them across the Atlantic, and rummage among their descendants on our shores. • In the phraseology of New-England might he found many an old Eng proyinc•inl phrase, long since obsolete in the parent country: while Vir ginin cherishes peculiarities characteristic of the days of Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh. In the same way, the sturdy yeomanry of New- Jersey and Pennsylvania keep up many usages fading away in ancient Germany; while man!, an honest, broad-bottomed custom, nearly extinct in venerable; Holland, may be found flourishing in pristine vigor and luxuriance in some of the ortho dox Dutch villages, still lingering on the banks of the Mohawk and the Hudson. In no part of our country, however, are the cus toms and peculiarities, imported front the old world by the early settlers, kept up with more fidel ity than in the little poverty-stricken villages of Spanish and French origin, that border the rivers of ancient Louisiana. Their population is gener ally made itp of the descendants of those nations, married and interwoven together. and occasionally crossed with a slight dash of the Indian. The French character. however, floats on top, ns, front its buoyant qualities it is sure to do, whenever it forms a particle, however small, of an ie tore. In these serene and dilapidated villages, art and nature sewn to staid still, and the world forgets to turn round. The revolutions that distract other parts of this mutable planet, reach not here, or !Pass over without leaving any trace. The inhab_ itants are deficient in that public s pi r it w hi c h ex tends its cares beyond its horizon, and imparts trouble and perplexity front all quarters in news. papers. In fart, newspapers are ahnost unknown in these villages, and 'as French is the current language, the inhohitants have little community of opinion with their republican neighbors. They retain, therefore, their old habits of pas , i‘c obedi ence to the decrees of government. as though tlicy still lived tinder the absolute away of colonial commandments, instead of being part and parcel of the sovereign people, and having a voice in the legi dation. A few aged men, who haxe grown gray on their heliditary neres. and arc of the good old colonial stook, exert a kind of patriarchal sway in all mat_ tort of public rind private ire port; their opinions arc considered oracular, and their word iii The inhabitants, moreover, have none of that ,/ougernes4 f r gain, and riec for improvement, Avhich keep our 'wo r k continually on the move, ~)and our country towns incessantly in a state of trate,ition. There the magic phrases, gown lets,' ,water and other compre hensive and soul-stirrin g words, from the specula tor's vccahulary, are never heard. The residents dwell in toe salon houses in which their forefathers dwelt, without thinking of enlarging or modern. icing them, or pulling them down and turning them into granite store.:. They suftltr the trees, under which they hare been horn, and have play. ed In Malley, to tlouridt undistinbed; thought, by cutting them down, they might open new streets, and put money in their pockets. In a word, the almighty dollar, that great object of universal de votion throughout our land, seems to have no gen uine devotees in these peculiar villages; and unless some of its missionaries penetrate there, and erect banking houses and other 'pious shrines, there is no kpowing how long the inhabitants may remain in their present state of contented powntr. In descending one of our great western rivers in it steam-boat, I met with two worthies from one of these villages, who had been on a distant ex cm:sion, the longest they had ever made, as they seldom ventured far from home. One was the great man, or Grand Signor of the village; not that he enjoyed any legal privileges or power there, every thing of the kind having been done away when the province was ceded by France to the United States. His sway over his neighbors was merely one of custom and conviction, out of defer enre to his family. Beside, he was worth full fifty thousand dollars, an amount almost equal, in the imagination of the villagers, to the treasures of king Solomon. This very substanti,al old gentleman, though of the fourth or fifth generation in this country. re tained the true ilullir stamp of feature and peen- Rarity of deportment, and reminded me of one of those provineial potentates, the important man of a.petty arromlisement, that are to be met with in the remote parts of France. He was of a large frame, a ginger-bread complexion, strong faatures, eyes that stood out like glass knobs, and a prom inent nose, which he frequently regaled from n gold snuffbox, and occa:iou3lly blew with a col oured handkerchief until it sounded like a trum pet, lie was attended by an old negro, as black as ebony, t 4 lilt n huge mouth, in a continual grin.— This was evilently a privileged and favorite ser vant, and one that had grown up and grown old with him. He was dressed in creole style—with white jacket and trowsers, a stiff shirt collar, that thn.atned to cut off his ears; a bright inadrass handkerchief tied round his heal, and large gold earingq. He was the politest negro I met with in a wide western tour; and that is saviv n great deal, for excepting thi.lndians, the negroes are the most gentlemanlike personages one meets with in those parts. It is true, they differ from the Indi ans in being n little extra polite and complimenta ry. He we; also one of the merrier% and here, too, the' nearoes, however we mny deplore their unhappy condition, have the advantage of their masters. The whites are. in -_Teneral too free and prosperous to be merry. The cares of maintain_ ing, their -rights and liberties, and of ridding to dm , wealth, engross all their thoughts. and dry up nil the !noisome of their souls. If you hear abroad. n hearty, devil-may-care lat:gh, be assured it is a IlPgrOP Beside this African dornect:r. the signor of the village hail another no lc:4 cherished and privileged attendant. 'Phis was a lingo dog, of the mastiff breed, with a deep, hanging mouth, that gave an air of surly gravity to his physiognomy. He walked about the cabin with the air of a dog per fectly at home. and who had paid tier his passage. At dinner he took his scat beside his master, giv ing him a glance now and then out of the corner of hi 4 eve, that bespoke perfect confidence that he would not be forgotten. Nor was he—every now on then a huge marsel would be thrown to him, prrad‘enture the half-picked leg of a fowl, which hr would receive with a snap that sounded like the springing of a steel t-a7—enc. itallp, and all was down; and a glance of the eye told his master that he was ready for another consignment. The other village worthy. travelling in company with this signor, wns of n totally different stamp. He was small, thin, and wetmen-faced, such as Frenchmen are apt to be represented in caricature, with a bright stptirrel-like eye, and a gold ring in his ear. His dress was flimsy, and sat loosely on his frame, and he had altogether the look of one with but little coin in his pocket. Yet, though one of the poorest I was aSsured lie , vas one of the men ie,tt and most popular personages in hi.; native village. Compere Martin, as he was commonly called, was theflictotoin of the place—sp ,rtsman, school mailer, and land surveyor. He could sing, dance, an , ', above all, play on the fiddle, an invaluable accomplishment in one of these old French creole villages, for the inhabitants have a hcriditary love for halls and fetes; if they work but little, they dance a great deal, and a fiddle is the joy of their heart. What had sent Compere Martin travelling with the Grand Signor I could not learn; he evidently looked up to him with great deference, and was assidirms in renderim; him petty attentions; from which I concluded that ho lived at home upon the crumbs which fill from his table. He was gayest when out of his sight; and had his sfmq and his joke when forward, among the deck passengers; but altogether Compere Ma:titi was nut of his cle ment on board of a steam-boat. He was quite another being, I am told, when at home, in his own village. Like his opulent fellow traveler, he too had his canine follower and retainer—and one suited to his different fortunes—one of the civilest, homebred, most unotli•nding little dogs in the world. Un like the lordly mastiff, he seemed to think he had no right on board of the steam-boat; if you did hnt look hard at him, he would throw himself up_ pun his back, and lift up his legs, as if imploring mercy. At table he took his scat at a little distance from his master, not with the bur confident air of the mastiff hut quietly and diffidently; his head on one side, with one ear dubiously slouched, the other hopefully cocked up; his under teeth inject ing beyond his black nose, and his eye wistfully following each morsel that went into his master's mouth. If Compere Martin now and then should ven ture to ab :tract a morsel from his plate, to give to his humble companion, it was edifying to see with what diffidence the exemplary little animal would take hold of it, with the very tip of his teeth, as if he would almost rather not, or was fearful of taking too great a liberty. And then with what decorum would he cat it! How many elThrts would he make in swallowing it, ss if it stuck in his throat; with what daintiness would he lick his lips; and theti with what an air of thankfulness would he resume his seat, with his teeth once more project ing beyond his nose, and an eye of humble expec tyinn fixed upon his master. It was late in the afternoon when the steam-boat stoppeii at the village which was the residence of my fellow voyagers. It stood on the high bank of the river, and bore truces of having . been a frontier trading post. There were the remains of the stockades that once protected it from the Indians, and the houses were in The ancient Spanish and French colonial taste, the place having been sue= cessively under the domination of both those na tions prior to tho cession of Louisiana to the Uni ted States. "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MT LIVING ACTIONS, To KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."BHAX Pb atic.OJP2halto apbTpzßargitaza 9a, aa,2ac, is to become of the poor little creole cillage! HOME CuirtrivrrA xs.---These are the true chris dans. A late divine being asked what he thought of a certain pious individual remarked, Ni have never lived with him." This is the true test.— That man who is whnt the Bible requires him to ho, lets his light shine at home even more brightly than it does before the world. The arrival of the signor of fifty thousand doL lars, and his humble companion Compere Martin, had evidently been looked forward to as an event in the village. Numbers of men, women, and chidren, white, yellow, and black, were collected on the river hank; most of them clad in old fashion ed French garments and their heads decorated with colored handkerchiefs or white nightcap,— The moment the steam-boat came within sight and hearing, there commenced a waving of handker chiefs,& a screaming & bawling of g,rectings,& re lutntions,and felicitations that bade all description. The old gentleman of fifty thousand dollars was received by a train of relatives, and friends, and children, and grandchildren, whom he kissed on each check, and who formed a procession in his rear, with a legion of domestics, of all ages, fol lowing him to a large oldfashioned French house, that domineered over the village. His black valet de chambre, in white jacket and trowsers, and gold ear-rings, was met on the shore by a boon, though rustic companion, a tall negro fellow, with a long, goodhumnred home face. which stood out in strong relief from beneath a narrow-rimmed straw hat, stuck on the back of his head. The explosions of laughter of these two varlets on first meeting. with each other, and ex changing compliments, were enough to electrify the whole country round. The most hearty reception, however, was that given to Compere Martin. Every body, young and old, hailed him before he got to land. Every body had a joke for Compere Martin, and Com pere Martin had a joke for every body. Soon hie little dog appeared, to partake of his popularity, and to be carressed by every hand. Indeed, he was quite, a ditfilrent animal the moment he touched the land. Here lie was at home; here he was of COIP;CtiIICTICC. He harked, he leaped, he frisked about his 4 old friends, and then would skim round the place in a wide circle, as if mad. I traced Compere Martin and his little dog to their home. It was an old ruinous Spanish house, of large dimensions, with vimndas overshadowed by ancient elms. The house had probably been the residence, in old times, of the Spanish com mandant. In brie wing or this crazy, but aristo cratical abode, was nestled the family of my fellow traveler, for poor devils are apt to he magnificently clad and lodged, in the cast-off clothes and aband oned palaces of the great and wealthy. The arrival of Compere Martin was welcomed by a legion of women, children, and mongrel curs; and, as poverty and gayety generally go hand in hand among the French and their descendants, the crazy mansion soon resounded with loud gos sip and light-hearted Laughter. As the steam-boat paused a short time at the village, I took occason to stroll about the place.— Most of the houses were in the French taste, with casements and rickity verandas, but most of them in flimsy and ruinous condition. All the wagons, ploughs, and other utensils about the place were of ancient and inconvenient Gallic con struction, such as had been brought from France in the primitive days of the colony. The very looks of the people reminded me of the villages of France. As I pasrmd by one of the houses, the hum of n. spinning wheel came issuing forth, accompanied by a scrap of song, which a girl was singing as she sat at her labor. It was an old t'reitich chan- son, that I hare heard many a time among the peasantry. of Languedoc; and the sound of it brought many a 'night and happy scene to my re membrance. It was doubtless an old traditional song, brought over by the first French emigrants. and handed down from generation to generation. Half a dozen young lasses emerged frunuthe ad jacent dwelling - 5, reminding me, by their light step and gay cesium, of the scenes in ancient France, where taste in dress comes natural to eV- cry class of females. The trim boadiec and color ed petticoat, and the little apron, with its pockets to receive the hands when in an attitude for con versation; the coloured kerchief wound tastefully round the head, with a coquettish knot perching above one ear; and then the neat slipper and the 'tight drawn stocking, with its braid ofnarrow rib bon embracing the ankle where it peeps from its mysterious curtain. It is from this ambush that Cupid sends his most inciting arrows. While I was musing upon the recollections thus accidently summoned up, I heard the sound of a riddle from the mansion of Compere Martin, the signal, no doubt, for a joyous gathering. I was disposed to turn my steps thither, and witness the festivities of one of the very few villages that I had met with in my wide tour, that was yet poor enough to he merry; but the bell of the steam-boat summoned me to re-embark. As we swept away from the shore, I cast hack a wistful eye upon the moss-grown roofs and an cient ehns of the village, and prayed that the in habitants might long retain their happy ignorance, their absence of all enterprise and improvement, their respect for the fiddle, and their contempt for the almighty dollar. I fear however my prayer is doomed to he of no avail. In a little while the steam-boat whirled me to an American town, just springing into bustling and prosperous existence. The surrounding forest had been laid out in town lots; frames of wooden buirlingir were tisi.:7; from among stumps and burnt trees. The place already boasted a court-house, a jail, and two banks, all built of pine boards, on the model of Grecian temples. There were rival hotels, rival churches, and rival newspapers; together with the usual number of judges, and generals, and govern ors; not to speak of doctors by the dozen and law yen; by the score. Thu place, I was told, was in an astonishing career of improvement, with a canal and two rail roads in embryo. Lots doubled in price every week; every body was speculating in land; every body was rich; and every body was growing richer. The community, however, was torn into pieces by new doctrines in religion and in politimd economy; there were camp-meetings and agrarian meetings; and an election was at hand which it iris expected, would throw the whole country tn par oxyism. Alas! with such :►n enterprising neighor, what '3a_;IITM23I(I4UI DEFLPailltorMiraia` alloic following article from the Baltimore Mon ument, is written in an excellent spirit, and fur nishes some correct ideas in relation to the Temperance reform: Temperance. Sweet to an American, is the reflection that the Temperance Institution is indebted to his own country, for its existence. When ho casts his eye over the face of the moral world and discovers the astonishing effects of this association—when he sees the Genius of Temperance walking through the earth, scattering in rich profusion, her bless ings, and collecting her honors with her brow blooming with the wreath of glory, and her path strewn with the offerings of gratitude, her bosom swells with joy and overflows with thankfulness to Him whose hand has set his brilliant gem in the coronet of his nation's character. Other societies, as benevolent in their character and delightful in their results, are the growth of foreign lands,— they have unfolded their beauties beneath other skies and been watered by other dews. But this institution is not exotic—'tis the plant of our own garden. Here. where the arts and sciences flour ish—where religion and learning mingle their beams—where Providence and Peace have lavish ed their gifts—here, was it formed and supported. What a lustre does this fact reflect upon our country•! Is it the boast of America that she has given birth to a patriotic WisnixoTex, an elo quent Hz ens and an illustrious JUTERSONI -Is the fame of these individuals her most sacred treasure!. It shall also be her pride that Ho even selected her as the instrument to conceive and ex ecute the noble plan o( liberating the world from the tyranny of intemperance. Another "star has been added to the crown of her -ejoicing,"—a star equal in brilliancy to any that glitters in her con stitution_ But a few years have elapsed since the organi zation of the first Temperance Association.— Though the current of opposition has been strong —though it has luul to battle with one of the most violent and ancient foes—Temperance has sue t ceeded in achieving many victories and winninft many trophies. How many neighborhoods has it regenerated! How many families has it exalt ed and blessed?. How many of the outcasts and indigent has it embraced in its encircling arms, and around what numbers has it thrown its impenetra ble barrier? If the manners of society have not been totally revolutionised, they have nevertheless undergone a change—a change which the patriot views with pleasure, and the philanthropist contem plates with delight. The "little leaven has com menced its operation, and it shall continue its work until "the whole lump is leavened." What a cheering state of things will be brought about, when the temperance plan shall have fully accomplished its design? Relieved of its oppressive burden, our afflicted land shall raise her drooping head and smile far joy. Then shall the beauty of Eden return to our sin-desolated globe—then shall our curse be removed, and peace and plenty shall once more revisit our earth and spread their balmy influence throughout her borders. Happy period! —Longed and wished for by every virtuous heart! !tray it soon arrive with unnumbered glories. With such success awaiting them, shall the friends of this reformation indulge in evil appre hension! Can they despair, when their past un exampled success is the prophet that foretcls this triumph in future. Let them not despond. The sincerity of their motives and the justness of their cause will secure for them the approbation and aid of God, and the assistance of all the virtuous of their race. • -However severely the storm of oppo sition may beat, this tree, planted by the hands of piety and patriotism, shall strike its roots deeper and deeper, its top shall tower higher and higher. and its branches spread wider and wider, until all nations shall repose in its cooling shade and par take of its healthful fruitage. Q'..~F3?}333440 Tut Patss.—An intellectual, fearless, liberal and courteous journal, is an ornament to the place of its location, and a blessing to the community in which it circulates. Intellect is power, and through no channel can that power he exerted with mom salutary success, than the public press. The press is a mighty engine for good or evil in the hands of its conductors. To promote benefits it must be free—untrammelled by individuals or combinations,—it should speak no man's senti ments exclusively, nor be an auxiliary of his prej udices or passions. It must be courteous, stepping not out by the wayside to attack individuals that arc comparitively defenceless and for naught but to indulge in personal spleen. It must be Intel ketual, for every blockhead with vanity enough to consider himself a writer, shall interlard its col umns with inartificially constructed, senseless and vulgar communications, it cannot enjoy that rep utation which is essential to its influence. In pro portion as it shall be divested of these qualities,— in proportion as it shall be corrupt, licentious and profligate,—it is a loathsome excressence—a blighting curse: , I. NVe copy the following from the 4.l3cllefonte Patriot"—adding, simply, that it contains at least, "more truth than poetry." "EDITORS •'vn Pulsars.—The situation of an editor is the most irkesome ono imaginable— that is, in the compass of professions, trades, and occupations. Under the most favorable circum stances he is but meanly remunerated for his ser vice.. He labors for half price, and half his earnings never grace his pocket. His losses, ' through the negligence and dishonesty of his "pa trons," the misconduct of postmasters, and from other causes, are immense—amounting to at least 33 per cent of tho moneys justly due to him, and in some instances even more. .Wo speak plain words—perhaps "words that burn"—but they are Me truth. Wo appeal to all acquainted with the business, to say, arc they not! And further, an editor is looked upon as the dear public's very humble foot-ball,' which every jackalent in community thinks he has a right to kick about for his own interest and amusement! Vain delu- Tux Couorbe, a French physician, has recently examined the brain of a human be ing with a powerful microscope, by which means he finds it presents small globules slightly elipti eal in shape. .These am larger in thn are' than in the white substance of the brain. They are coagulated by acids, like those of the blood and milk. The analysis finds, besides the salts dis covered by Vanquelin, lactic acid, sulphur and phosphorus—a pulverent yellow fat, an elastic fat a reddish yellow oil, white fatty matter, and cho lestrine. portions which abound after this analysis, or treatment with:'inther and alcohol, is mostly composed of albumin, coagulated globes and of membraneous substance. The elements of the substances obtained by the analysis of Couerbo, are carbon in the proportions of about 63 to the 100 parts, Hydrogen 10, Azotc, 5 1-2, Phosphorus 2 1-2 Sulphur 2 1-2 tuld Oxygen 15, in each of the five above mentioned substances, with the exception of the last (cholcatrinc) in which carbon is in the proportion of 85, hydrogen 12, and oxygen 3, in the 100 parts. How A MAN MARTUED 1118 OWN RISTElt.—The Dedham Patriot, says that a marriage once took place at Canton, Massachusetts, under the follow ing circumstances. The bridegroom when quite a small boy, ran away from his parents, who lived in Lower Canada. In process of time, the father died—the mother married again, and the fruits of this union were several daughters. The daught ers grew up, and the parents not having the means to support them, they went to work in Factories. One strayed to Cant .n Factory, where by a fortu itous circumstance, the runaway happened to be at work. He soon became acquainted with this girl, and before a full history of each other's ori gin was developed, married her. In a few days it was ascertained that they both had one mother.— This of CCUTBC greatly confused and astonished both parties, from which arose strong conscientious scruples as to the Tropriety of brother and sister, living together in a state of matrimony; and upon mature consideration, they resolved mutually to dissolve their connexion as man and wife. TO MAK,: LEECIIER BTTE.—This is an important object and one we perceive with pleasure to have been effected by a Doctor Elden. Small holes are cut in a r ' . - 3 of blotting paper corresponding to the places on the skin which it is desired the leech tilinH be attached. This being moistened and applied, the leeches crawl about until they come to the holes in the paper, when they immediately take hold. ALCIIEMT BErtvcn.—The late Experiments reported at th,e British associations prove that Mr. Cross has done more than the boldest alchemist ever dreamed of doing, for he stated that "any mineral,or metal," by his eleetro-galvanism,umight be found by man!" This is neither more nor less than the alchemist's transmutation. Truly are the dreams of antiquity about becoming realities. Tux REARON Wur.—Almost every thing con. sumcd in a family, now commands exorbitant pri ces, except. cream, of which, b 7 the way, the re i f , none. Inquiring of our milkman thereason of ita erltrity, he tatistled our query by saying that "Milk has riz go tarnal high that cream can't reach the top!—Dedham Patriot. OODMIO agl tili'MM fNIM W.MIEETO Another Interesting Letter RED PIPE STONE, On the Coteau du Prairie s Sept.lB36. 3 I wrote you a letter a few days since from this place, which, if it should have reached you, will have convinced you that I am in one of tho most curious places on the continent. Curious, for the traditions respecting it, (some specimens of which will be given in the present epistle,) and also for the exceedingly picturesque and romantic appear ance oft's° place itself. I had long ago heard many thrilling descriptions of this place given by the In dians, and had contracted tho most impatient desire to visit it. It will be seen by some of tho traditions inserted in this letter, from my notes taken on the Upper Missouri four years since, that those tribes .havo visited this place freely in former times, and that it has once been held and owned in common as neutral ground, amongst the different tribes who met at this place to renew their pipes, under some arrangement which stayed tho tomahawk of these natural foes, always raised in deadly hate and vengeance in other places. It will be seen also,that within a few years past, (and that, proba bly, by the instigation of the whites, who have told them that by keeping off other tribes, and manu facturing the pipes themselves, and trading them to other adjoining nations, they can acquire much influence and wealth,) the Sioux have laid entire claim to this quarry; and as it is in the centre of their country, and they are more powerful than any of the other tribes, they are able successfully to prevent any access to it. That this place should have beets visite.' for centuries past by all the neigh- boring tribcs,who have hidden tho war-club as they approached it,and stayed the cruelties of the scalp. ing-knifc, under tho fear of the vengeance of the Great Spirit,who overlooks it,will not seem strange or unnatural when their religion and superstitions are known. That such has been the case there is not a shadow of doubt, and that even so recently as to have been visited by hundreds and thousands of Indians of different tribes, now living, and from many of whom I have personally drawn the infor mation, some of which will be sot forth in the fol lowing traditions; and as an additional . (and still more conclusive) evidence of the above position, hero arc to be seen (and will continuo to be seen for ages to come) the totem., or arms of tho differ ent tribes who have visited this place for ages past, and deeply engraved their heraldry on the rocks, where they are to be seen and recognised in a mo ment, (and not to he denied,) by the passing travel ler who has been among those tribes, and acquired even but a parrial knowledge of them. The thousands ani'..tens of thousands of carvings and paintings on the rocks at this place, as well as the ancient diggings for the pipe -stone, will afford', amusement for the world who will visit it, without furnishing the least data of the time at which these excavations commenced, or of the time at which the Sioux assumed the exclusive right to it. . Among the many traditions which I have drawn personally from the diarent tribes, and which go to support the opinion above advanced, is the Ill lowing one, which was related to me by a distin guished Knistineaux, on the Upper Missouri, four years since. After telling me that he had been to this place, and after describing it in all its features, he proceeded to say: "That in the time ofa groat freshet, which took place many evnturie• ago, and destroyed all the (VOL. 7--NO. 35. nations of the earth, all the tribrs of the red men assembled on the Coteau du Prairie to get ,out of ' the way of the waters. After they had all gather ed here from all prat., the water continued to rise until at length it covered them ell in a mass,'and their flesh was converted into red pipe -stone Therefore it has always been considered neutral ground—it belonged to all tribes alike, and all were allowed to got it and smoke it together,- While they were all drowning in n mass, a young woman (K•wap.tah-wa virgin) caught hold of the foot ofa very large bird thnt was flying over, and, was carried to the top ofa very high cliff, not far off, that was above the water. Here she had twins, and their father was the War Eagle, and her children have since peopled the earth. The pipe stone, which Is the flesh ofthoir ancestors, is smoked by them as the symbol of peace, and the eagle's r j nill decorates the heed of the bravo." Tradition of the Sioux.—"Cocuro the creation of man, the Great Spirit (whose tracks are yet to be peen on the atones at the Red Pipe, in form of' the tracks ofa large bird,) used to Coy and devour the buffalo on the top of the entren du Prairies and their blood, running into the ground, turned the stones red One day, when a large snake had crawled into the nest of the bird tn eat his l eggs, one of the eggs hatched out in a clap of (bonder and the Great Spirit, catching hold of a . pieee of the pipe stoneto throw at the snake, moulded ,it into a man. This man's feet grew fast in the ground, where he stood for many ages, and there fore he grew very old; ho was older than a hun drod men at the present day: ho ho-o a delicious fruit, some of which foil on the ground, and at last one of them grew up to a tree,when n large snake ate them both tiff at the roots, and they wandered off together; from these have sprung all the pee• ple that now inhabit the earth After many ages, when all these different tribes were at war, the Great Spirit sent runners, and called them alt together at the "Red Pipe " Ho stood the top of the rocks. and the red people, were nesern bled on the plains helow.. Ho took out of the rock piece of the red stone, and mndn a large pipe; lie marked it over them all; them that It was part oftheir flesh; that the red men were made from it; that though they wore at war, they must meet at this place as friends; that it belonged to them rill; that they must make their calumets from it, and smoke them to him whenever they wished to appease him, or get his goodwill: the eronke from his big pipe rolled over thorn all, and he disappeared in its eland; at the last whiff of his pipe, a blase afire rolled over the rocks and malt. ed their surlitce —at that moment two equnws went in a blare of lire under the two medicine rocks. where they remain to this day, and must be con sulted and propitiated whenever the pipe stone is to he taken away. " The following speech.of a Mandan, which wits , made to me in the Mandan village four., years since, after I had painted his picture, I have,copi ed from my note book as corroborative of the Brim° facts: "My brother: You have made my *tore, and I like it much. My friends tell me they .can see the eyes move, and it must be very good; it must be partly alive. lam glad it is done, though many of my people are afraid. I am a young man but my heart fs strong. have jumped' on to the mania rock—l have placed my arrow on it, and no Mandan can take it away... The red atone is slippery, hut my foot was true; it did not clip. My brother, Lillis pipe, which I give to you, I brought from a high mountain—it is toward the rising sun; many were the pipes we brought from there—and we brought them away in paiina--.s• We left our totems and our marks on.the rocks— we cut them deep in the rocks, and they are there now. The Groat Spirit told all nations to meet there in peace, and all nations hid the war-club and tomahawk. The Sioux, who are our ene mies, are very strong; they, have taken up the tomahawk. and the blond of our warriors has rim on the rock. My friend we want to visit our medicines—our pipes are old and worn out. My friend, I wish you to speak to our Great Father about this." Shoo-di-ga-ka, chief of the Ponchas, on tho Up per Missouri, also made the following allusion to this place, in a speech which ho made to me . on the occasion of presenting me a very handsome pipe about four years since: "My friend—This pipe, which I wish. you to, • accept, was dug from the ground, and cut and polished as you now see it, by my hands. I wish you to keep it. and when you smoke through it, recollect that this red stone is a part of our This is one of the lest things wo can over give away. Our enemies, the Sioux, have raised the red flag of blood over the pipe-stone quarrj, and our medicine, there aro trodden under foot by them. The Siorixar , many, and we coma go to the mountain of the fled Pipe. We have seen all nations smoking t.getf,er at that place; but, my brother, it is not Cr' now." One of the old chief of the Saes, on seeing some specimens of the stone which I had brought with mo from that place, observed as follows: "My friend—When I wan young, I used to go with our young men to the mountain of the Red Pipe, and dig out pieceti for our pipes. We do not go now; and our rod pipes, as you see, are few. The Sioux have split the blood of red men nn that place, and the Grant Spirit in offended.-- The white traders have told the Sioux to draw their howl, upon us when we go there; and they have offered as many of the pilule for sale, hut we do not want to smoke thorn, far we know that the Groat Spirt' is offendyd. My mark is tn . the rooks in many placer, but i chill never see thorn again. They lie where the Groat Spirit sees them. for his eye is over that place, and sees e►. ery thing I done there." Ke-o-kuck, chief of the Sacs and Foxes, when I asked him whether he had over been there, re plied: I have never seen it; it is in nnr enemies' country, I wish it wore in ours, r would Fell kW the whites for a great many boxes of money." Such are a fcw of the traditions relating to this curious place, and many other:4 might he given which I have procured, though they amount near• ly to the same thing. The position of the pipe-stone quarry is in a direction nearly west from the Falls of St. Antho ny, at * distance of two hundred and twenty or thirty miles, on the summit of the dividing ridge between the St Peter's and the Missouri, rivers, being about equidistant from either. This divid ing ridge is denominated by the French the ‘ , Co. term du Prairie," and the ttPipc-stone" is situated near its southern extremity-, and consequently nit exactly on its highest elevation, as its general course is north and south, find its southern eAtm. [,.Concluded -on the Pourlh Page.] The manito (or leaping) rock is a part of the precipice which has become severed from the main part. standing within about seven or eight feet from the wall, jug equal in height, and about seven feet in diameter. It stands like an imiorrise column of 35 feet high, and polished like 4 mirror on its top and sides. It requires a daring effort to !capon to Usti* and, back again; and many a heart has sighed for tbia honor of ihe feat without daring to mak , ' the attempt. Some lbw have tried it with success, 41$11 hat their arrows standing In the crevice everal of which are seen there at this time; otbe re Lee leaped flit dime. and fallen from the slippery surface. on trldelt could not hold, and suffered Instant dead; ham GM craggy rocks below Every young man in the natio* is ambitious to perform this feat; and that who him sumessfully date hewn allowed to boast at It all tbalt ' : ..
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