hat almost daily presented themselves. And while, in very numerous
instances, they proved to be but the impudent pretensions of charlatans,
it must be conceded, if credible witnesses are to be believed, that
sometimes there is a power of second-sight, or something of a kindred
nature, which defies investigation. Instances of this kind are of
frequent occurrence, and easily recalled, I venture to say, by every one
familiar with the Indian in his native state. The higher powers claimed
for medicine are, in general, doubtfully spoken of by the Indians. Not
that they deny the possibility of the power, but they question the
probability of so signal a mark of favor being bestowed on a mere
mortal. Powers and medicine privileges of a lower degree are more
readily acknowledged. An aged Indian of the Assinaboin tribe is very
generally admitted, by his own and neighboring tribes, to have been
shown the happy hunting-grounds, and conducted through them and returned
safely to the camp of his tribe, by special favor of the Great Spirit.
He once drew a map of the Indian paradise for me, and described its
pleasant prairies and crystal rivers, its countless herds of fat buffalo
and horses, its perennial and luxuriant grass, and other charms dear to
an Indian's heart, in a rhapsody that was almost poetry. Another, an
obscure man of the Cathead Sioux, is believed to have seen the hole
through which issue the herds of buffalo which the Great Spirit calls
forth from the centre of the earth to feed his children.

Medicine of this degree is not unfavorably regarded by the masses; but
instances of the highest grades are extremely rare, and the claimants of
such powers few in number. The Black Snake and the Kootenai, before
referred to, are, if still alive, the only instances with which I am
acquainted of admitted and well-authenticated powers so great and
incredible. The common use of medicine is in affairs of war and the
chase. Here the medicine-man will be found, in many cases, to exhibit a
prescience truly astounding. Without attempting a theory to account for
this, a suggestion may be ventured. The Indian passes a life that knows
no repose. His vigilance is ever on the alert. No hour of day or night
is to him an hour of assured safety. In the course of years, his
perceptions and apprehensions become so acute, in the presence of
constant danger, as to render him keenly and delicately sensitive to
impressions that a civilized man could scarc