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Updated: June 1, 2025
Now the Assiniboin people looked upon Wijunjon with awe and fear. A person equipped with such power might be very dangerous. They decided that he ought to be killed. Meanwhile Wijunjon went right on telling his stories. He still had hopes and besides, it was pleasant to be the center of a gaping circle, and to walk around with folks gazing so at him.
Accordingly, the young man appointed to kill Wijunjon for being bad medicine, found an iron pot handle, and spent a whole day filing it down to fit into the muzzle of his gun. Then from behind he shot the terrible Pigeon's-egg Head and scattered his lying brains about, and the wizard fell dead. Southwest from the Mandans there lived the Crow nation.
It moved without sweeps it nosed for the deepest channels and the Indians called it "Big-medicine-canoe-with-eyes." It spoke with its guns, and belched much smoke and they called it "Big Thunder-canoe." But Wijunjon feared not at all. He was used to thunder-canoes, now; and he had seen many great sights, back there in the villages of the white men.
Wijunjon was somewhat confused by so many sounds and sights, but he made a fine figure of a chief in his mountain-goat skin leggins and shirt, decorated with porcupine quills, and with scalp locks from his enemies; his long plaited hair, which reached to the ground; his war bonnet of eagles' plumes; his buffalo-hide robe, painted with the battles of his career; his beautiful moccasins; and his quiver and bow and bull-neck shield.
Having had his portrait painted, he continued on the long trail, of two thousand more miles by water and by stage, to Washington. And as every mile of it was amidst still more lodges of the white man, he soon saw that all the willow sticks of the Missouri River could not have counted their numbers. This winter Wijunjon and his companions had a wonderful time among the white men.
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