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Lame Deer, Montana
via Rosebud Montana
September 28, 1897

My own true loving little wife,

I have finished a portrait of American Horse & White Bull, and now I am painting that savage looking fellow Little Chief.

I had some trouble with the Indians here. Chief American Horse was to sit again for a profile, and was to come Monday. I saw him around and noticed he looked glum. I said nothing and waited until noon, but he didn’t come, so on my way to dinner (2) I saw him and noticed a Cheyenne interpreter was nearby. So I asked the interpreter to ask American Horse if he would be ready to sit after dinner. American Horse said, "No". He said, "You painted the last". I said, "What you mean?" He said, "You painted White Bull." He said, "He is no chief." I said, "They all say he is." He said, "Yes, the white people say he is, but we Indians know he is not, and don’t recognize him as such. We don’t like him." Furthermore, he said, "He put my costume on and you painted him with it on." He said, "Why did you do that?" I said, "I supposed he had your consent", and I said, "He put a lot (3) of eagle feathers on, which gave it a different appearance." He then walked away. The interpreter then told me that all the chiefs wouldn’t sit for me. I saw some other interpreters and explained to them and they explained to the chiefs but to no use.

But I had made up my mind that they would sit for me, especially that cuss Little Chief. So I went alone to his tipi. He was away but his squaw & children were there, so I sat down and gave them some money to buy tobacco with and gave one of the boys an Elk tooth. Pretty soon (4) Little Chief came and looked ugly at me and at first refused to take my hand. He squatted down on the ground, so did I. He got out a black leather case and handed me a lot of letters to read, which I read it very carefully, and he noticed it, and liked it, as most white people would just glance at them. One of the letters was dated 1878 from Gen. Miles, just after Little Chief had surrendered, telling about Little Chief, etc. Through signs and a little Sioux (the Cheyenne understand Sioux) I asked him if he would sit. He said no, so I hung around, as I was in no hurry, and (5) before I left he promised to come today, and he did.

I always have on hand, Indian colors for them to fix up with, and as he is, he looks savage enough. But he painted his face up in war paint until he looked like a demon. He always has his tomyhawk with him which has 23 notches on it, which means 23 scalps he has taken. I can get more out of the Indians than any of the people who have lived with them all their lives. I think it is because I paint them so they recognize themselves, and the feathers look like feathers, etc. and they think I am a medicine man.

They will do anything (6)

page 6 missing (7)

second picture he didn’t want to sit for, but he did all right. If any of the Indians that I have been with should go on a war path, I wouldn’t be a bit afraid to go to their camp, as I know they wouldn’t hurt me.

It is fun to hear the Chief tell funny stories to the Indians. While I was painting American Horse recently, some dozen Indians were in the room, and he will start in to tell a story. Everything is just as quiet and the old Chief wouldn’t even smile. The Indians listen attentively and when he is through, how they all laugh. He waits until all are through (8) laughing, then he will commence another. I would give a good deal if I understood what he said.

Well, my dear, must close. Give my love to your folks. I hope your mother is well now. Goodnight darling.

Your own true loving husband,

Elbridge
Lots of love, hugs & kisses.

PS. I saw a 2 year old papoose this eve with a little bit of a Cheyenne kitten and I tell you he handled the kitten awfully rough and finally the kitten gave him a scratch and the papoose dropped it.