there as I did.

Since circumstances made it necessary for me so to do, I read all the
books I could find about the new region, which now began to become real
to me. All the books about the Indians, a paltry collection, truly, yet
which furnished material for many thoughts. The most narrow-minded and
awkward recital, still bears some lineaments of the great features of
this nature, and the races of men that illustrated them.

Catlin's book is far the best. I was afterwards assured by those
acquainted with the regions he describes, that he is not to be depended
on for the accuracy of his facts, and, indeed, it is obvious, without
the aid of such assertions, that he sometimes yields to the temptation
of making out a story. They admitted, however, what from my feelings I
was sure of, that he is true to the spirit of the scene, and that a far
better view can be got from him than from any source at present
existing, of the Indian tribes of the far west, and of the country where
their inheritance lay.

Murray's travels I read, and was charmed by their accuracy and clear
broad tone. He is the only Englishman that seems to have traversed these
regions, as man, simply, not as John Bull. He deserves to belong to an
aristocracy, for he showed his title to it more when left without a
guide in the wilderness, than he can at the court of Victoria. He has,
himself, no poetic force at description, but it is easy to make images
from his hints. Yet we believe the Indian cannot be looked at truly
except by a poetic eye. The Pawnees, no doubt, are such as he describes
them, filthy in their habits, and treacherous in their character, but
some would have seen, and seen truly, more beauty and dignity than he
does with all his manliness and fairness of mind. However, his one fine