October 6, 1833
It was Sunday, and people wore clean clothes. A beautiful and bright day. At noon, 60°F [15.6°C]. We worked at home. Dreidoppel and Beauchamp went outside but brought back nothing [other than] some Corvus corax. In the afternoon the [fort’s] hunters returned. They had not seen any female buffalo, but they shot ten bulls, six antelope, one elk, and one deer. Deschamps brought me a porcupine and a badger. The hunter, Antoine, returned from the lake bringing a Grus americana (the white crane) and the beak of a pelican he had shot. He also brought along a Grus canadensis. The greedy engagés plucked it right away. Mr. Bodmer came home with a rabbit.
Today I watched an Assiniboine woman scraping a hide very quickly and thoroughly with the aid of a hook-like tool (uahímbachpa). The uppermost layers of hide are thrown away. Only the second or lower layers are not wasted; they are boiled in water and eaten.
Up to now we had visited Mr. Hamilton regularly every evening to talk with him. He usually served us some kind of whiskey punch with sugar and hot water while we smoked our pipes. He read to us from his manuscript of the life story of old Glass, who, together with two other white men, had been shot by Indians near the Yellowstone in spring 1833; most likely [the Indians were] Arikaras. During the previous winter, Glass had told Mr. Hamilton the story of his whole life, which would make a very interesting book. (See Tagebuch, vol. 2, p. 149 [and] 175 about this Glass.) For many years this old man led the dangerous lifestyle of a beaver trapper. He had numerous wounds [that] he owed to Indians. Many of his friends had been shot by his side. Finally it was his turn. I own the scalp taken from an Indian, an Arikara, when he was pursued; it was given to me by Mr. Chardon. Mr. Hamilton collected in this manuscript many a fascinating note about these Indians, and Catlin made me a drawing of old Glass. Today’s evening was pleasant.
