THE

_Great Chief of the Walaitipu Indians,_

Now traveling for the benefit of his tribe, proposes to exhibit
to an enlightened public the

Trophies won by his Braves,

In their battles with other Ferocious Tribes beyond the Rocky
Mountains, and the Great Chief will likewise give an
exhibition of the

WAR DANCES OF HIS NATION.

Accordingly upon the night in question Tom Lolar as "_Kaw-shaw-gan-ce_,"
and Henry Glazier as ticket agent, reaped such an excellent harvest that
the latter concluded to start a "live Indian" upon his own account.

This he accordingly did, dubbing the prodigy of his creation
"Quaw-taw-pee-ah," or the "Red Wild Cat."

Whether this venture was successful or not we have failed to learn, but
there is one story connected with it which is too good to be lost,
though it lacks satisfactory evidence of authenticity.

The legend runs that our enterprising manager went three miles away and
hunted up a genuine old native of Erin who had deserted from the British
army, where he held some position in one of the military bands attached
to a regiment stationed in Canada. With true Irish instinct this exile
of Erin had brought his trombone across the border, and "the
enterprising manager"--to use the language of the bills--"secured in him
the services of an eminent musician, late of Her Majesty's Royal Band,"
to discourse sweet music during the entire performance. This and other
attractive announcements drew a goodly crowd of lads and lasses from far
and near to the place appointed, and when the doors--otherwise
tent-flaps--were open, the assemblage marched in to the entrancing
strains of the trombone, as played by "Professor Muldoonati" _alias_
Billy Muldoon.

Everything passed off well. "Quaw-taw-pee-ah" presented to the _elite_
of the locality a type of the aboriginal American, which at least
possessed the merit of originality. If the audience expected to be
astonished they were not disappointed; for such an Indian as they then
beheld no living eye had ever looked upon before.

Mr. Catlin would have admitted that this noble red man was alien to any
of his tribes, and even Cooper's Leather-Stocking would have conceded
that his was a new revelation of savage humanity. It is barely possible
that Buffalo Bill may have dreamed of something like him, and it is not
impossible that the late Edwin Forr