"He requested them to take his body down the river to this his
favorite haunt, and on the pinnacle of this towering bluff to bury him
on the back of his favorite war-horse, which was to be buried alive
under him, from whence he could see, as he said, 'the Frenchmen
passing up and down the river in their boats.' He owned, amongst many
homes, a noble white steed, that was led to the top of the grass-
covered hill, and with great pomp and ceremony, in the presence of the
whole nation and several of the far-traders and the Indian agent, he
was placed astride of his horse's back, with his bow in his hand, and
his shield and quiver slung, with his pipe and his medicine bag, with
his supply of dried meat, and his tobacco-pouch replenished to last
him through the journey to the beautiful hunting grounds of the shades
of his fathers, with his flint and steel and his tinder to light his
pipes by the way; the scalps he had taken from his enemies' heads
could be trophies for nobody else, and were hung to the bridle of his
horse. He was in full dress, and fully equipped, and on his head waved
to the last moment his beautiful head-dress of the war-eagles' plumes.
In this plight, and the last funeral honors having been performed by
the medicine-men, every warrior of his band painted the palm and
fingers of his right hand with vermilion, which was stamped and
perfectly impressed on the milk-white sides of his devoted horse. This
all done, turfs were brought and placed around the feet and legs of
the horse, and gradually laid up to its sides, and at last over the
back and head of the unsuspecting animal, and last of all over the
head and even the eagle plumes of its valiant rider, where all
together have smouldered and remained undisturbed to the present day."



CAIRN BURIAL.