July 27, 1855:
The farther we stray from civilization, the farther Felix strays from sanity. Last night he unleashed his explosive rage upon me, insisting that I address him as Mister Huggleston, as it is only proper and appearances must be kept up.
Appearances? To whom? Perhaps to the Buffaloe, or the Prairie Dogs, or his herd of bears? We have seen no man for five months.
So great was his rage that he did fetch up a piece of wood from the tender and attempted to beat me with it. I held him off easily, and when he had exhausted himself I bound him hand and foot. If he is to act as a madman I shall have to treat him as such. And call him as Felix, because madmen cannot be afforded the privileges of gentlemen. One must keep up appearances after all.
September 9, 1855
Today we encountered a party of Sioux, and I was able to converse with them. I shall relate that conversation:
Me: I greet you in peace. My name is Fire Maker [a pretty fair translation]
Sioux: We greet you in peace. I am Great Buffaloe. Your prisoner appears uncomfortable.
Me: He is no prisoner, but he is mad. He has visions of men and things that are not here, and will not wake from his dream. He is called Huggleston, Man Who Is Chased By Bears.
Sioux: I see no bear.
Me: I see no bear. Only he can see the bears.
Sioux: Those are the worst kind of bears.
