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Toua laa autraa axamplairas originaux sont f ilmte an commandant par la pramlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'iniprassion ou d'illustration ot mn tarminant par la darniAra paga qui comporto una talla amprainta. Un das symboias suivants apparattra sur la darniAra imaga da chaqua microficha. salon la cas: la symbols -^ signifia "A 8UIVRE". la symbols y signifia "FIN". Las cartas, planchas. tablaaux. ate. pauvant Atra fiimte i das taux da rMuction diffArants. Lorsqua la documant ast trap grand pour Atra raproduit an un saui ciichA. 11 ast filmA A partir da I'angla supAriaur gaucha, da gaucha A droita. at da haut an bas. wn pranant la nombra d'imagas nAcassaira. Las diagrammas suivants iliustrant la mAthoda. rrata o )elure. 1 2 3 3 32X 1 I I Saiony A Major Lith . 117 FuhoSt.ye»Ytrk. KING HENDRICK. I "'&^' W-^' 9rA. . THE ■m AMERICAN INDIANS, THtilR HISTORY, " CONDITION AND PROSPECIS,^ mox ORIGINAL NOTES ANJ) MANUSCRIPTS. BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT. TOGETHER WITH AN APPENDIX. CONTAINING THRILLING KARRATIVES. DARING EXPLOITS, ETC. ETC. 1 1^. NEW REVISED EDITION. BUFFALO- GEORGE H. DERBY AND CO. 1851. -W4. / ! I ■:tr f' -I '.fc / dWA M.t i: il : :.■ ^ -••'Si- Entered according lu Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by GEO. H. DERBY A CO., In the Clerk's Office of tlie District Court of the United States for the Northern District of New York. w # 71^ JKWETT, THOltAB « CO., PUNTEB8, BUFFALa ;v » ' / -.-rt .« PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. <' v, f ■ .1, It is now twenty-six years since I first entered the area of the Missis* ' ^ >■»;, -V ' -^'.* < NO. II. ."r It is Dr. Johnson, I think, who says, that we take slight occasions to be pleased. At least, I found it so, on the present occasion ; the day of my arrival was my birth day, and it required but little stretch of imagi* nation to convert the scene upon which I had now entered, into a new world. It was new to me. — I was now fairly in the great geological valley of the west, the object of so many anticipations. The ark, in which I had descended the Allegany, put ashore near the point of land, which is formed by the junction of the Monongahela with this fine clear stream. The dark and slowly moving waters of the one, contrasted strongly with the sparkling velocity of the other. L felt a buoyancy of spirits as I leapt ashore, and picked up some of its clean pebbles to see what kind of geological testimony they bore to the actual character of their parent beds in the Apalachian range. " What shall I pay you, for my passage, from Olean," said I, to the gentleman with whom I had descended, and at whose ark-table I had found a ready seat with his family. " Nothing, my dear sir," he replied with a prompt and friendly air, — " Your cheerful aid in the way, taking the oars whenever the case required it, has more than compensated for any claims on that score, and I only regret that you are not going further with us." Committing my baggage to a carman, I ascended the bank of diluvial earth and pebbles with all eagerness, and walked to the point of land where Fort Pitt (old Fort Du duesne) had stood. It is near this point that the Alleghany and Monongahela unite, and give birth to the noble Ohio. It is something to stand at the head of such a stream. The charm of novelty is beyond all others. I could realize, in thought, as I stood here, gazing on the magnificent prospect of mingling waters, and their prominent and varied shores, the idea, which is said to be embodied in the old Mingo substantive-exclamation of 0-he-o ! a term, be it remem- bered, which the early French interpreters at once rendered, and truly, it is believed, by the name of La Belle Riviere. So far, I said to myself, all is well, — ^I am now west of the great spinal chain. All that I know of America is now fairly east uf me-— bright streams, warm hearts and all. I have fairly cast myself loose 10 rCRSONAL REMINIICRNCei. 1l on the wide waters of the west I have already come as many hundred miles, as there are days fn the week, but I begin my travels here. I have, as it were, taken my life in my hand. Father and mother, I may never see more. Qod wot the result. I go to seek and fulfil an unknown destiny. Come weal or woe, I shall abide the resuh. All the stream! run south, and I h.ive laid in, with " time and chance" for a journey with them. I am but as a chip on their surface — nothing more I Whether my bones are to rest in this great valley, or west of the Cordilleras, or the Rocky Mountains, I know not. I shall often think of the silver Iosco, the farther I go from it. To use a native metaphor, My foot is on the path, and the word, is onward ! " The spider taketh hold with her hands," Solomon says, " and is in king's palaces." Truly, a man should accomplish, by diligence, as much as a spider. Pittsburgh was, even then, a busy manufacturing town, filled witn working machinery, steam engines, hammers, furnaces, and coal smoke. I visited Mr. O'Hara, and several other leading manufacturers. They made gloss, bar iron, nails, coarse pottery, castings, and many other articles, which filled its shops and warehouses, and gave it a city-like appearance. Every chimney and pipe, perpendicular or lateral, putTeJ out sooty coal smoke, and it required some dexterity to keep a clean collar half a day. I met ladies who bore this impress of the city, on their morning toilet. I took lodgings at Mrs. McCullough's, a respectable hotel on Wood street, and visited the various manufactories, for which the place was then, and is now celebrated. In these visits, 1 collected accurate data of the cost of raw material, the place where obtained, the expense of manufacture, and the price of the finished fabric. I had thus a body of facts, which enabled me, at least to converse understandingly on these topics, to give my friends in the east, suitable data, and to compare the advantages of manu- facturing here with those possessed by the eastern and middle states. Every thing was, in the business prospects of the west, however, at a compara- tively low ebb. The prostrating efiepts of the war, and of the peace, were alike felt. We had conquered England, in a second contest, but were well exhausted with the efilbrt. The country had not recovered from the sacrifices and losses of a series of military operations, which fell most heavily on its western population. Its agricultural industry had been crippled. Its financial affairs were deranged. Itb local banks were broken ; its manufactories were absolutely ruined. There was little con- fidence in business, and never w^as credit, public and private, at a lower ebb. There was however, one thing, in which the west held out a shining prospect. It had abundance of the finest lands in the world, and in fact, it promised a happy home to the agricultural industry of half the world. It was literally the land of promise, to the rest of the union, if not to Europe. Having seen whatever I wished in Pittsburgh, I hired a horse and 12 PERSONAL REMINISCUMCES. crossing the Monongahela, went up its southern banks, as high as Wil- liamsport. I found the country people were in the habit of calling the city " Pitt" or " Fort Pitt," a term dating back doubtless to the time of the sur- render, or rather taking possession of Fort Du Q,uesne, by Gen. Forbes. Mineral coal (bituminous) characterizes the entire region, as far as m^ excursion reached. By a happy coincidence in its geological structure, iron ores are contained in the series of the c"..! deposits. On returning from this trip, night set in, very dark : on the evening I approached the summit of the valley of the Monongahela, called Coal Hill. The long and winding road down this steep was one mass of moving mud, only varied in its consistence, by sloughs, sufficient to mire both man and horse. I was compelled to let the animal choose his ovn path, and could only give him aid, when the flashes of lightning lit up the scene with a momentary brilliance, which, however, had often no other effect but to remind me of my danger. He brought me, at length, safely to the brink of the river, and across the ferry. To be at the head of the Ohio river, and in the great manufacturing city of the West, was an exciting thought, in itself. I had regarded Pittsburgh as the alpha, in my route, and after I had made myself familiar with its characteristics, and finding nothing to invite my further attention I prepared to go onn-ard. For this purpose, I went down to the bankt of the Monongahela, one day, where the arks of that stream usually touch, to look for a passage. I met on the beach, a young man from Massa chusetts, a Mr. Brigharri, — who had come on the same errand, and being pleased with each other, we engaged a passage together, and getting our baggage aboard immediately, set off the same evening. To float in an ark, down one of the loveliest rivers in the world, wai,, at lec.st, a novelty, and m all novelty gives pleasure, we went on charmingly. There were some ten or a dozen passengers, including two married couples. We prome- naded the decks, and scanned the ever changing scen,er\, at every bend, with unalloyed delight. At night we lay down aero, s the boat, with our feet towards the fire-place, in a line, with very little diminution of the wardrobe we carried by day, — the married folks, like light infantry in an army, occupying the flanks of our nocturnal array. The only objection I found to the night's rest, arose from the obligation, each one was tacitly under, to repair on deck, at the hollow night-cry of "oars!" from the steersman. This was a cry which was seldom uttered, however, except when we were in danger of being shoved, by the current, on the head of some island, or against some frowning "snag," so that we had a mutual interest in being punctual at this cry. By it, sleep was to be enjoyed only in sections, sometimes provokingly short, and our dreams of golden vallies, studded with pearls and gems, were oddly jumbled with the actual presence of plain matter of fact things, such as running across a tier of "old monongahela" or getting one's fingers PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. ia "6J and ddly as Igers trod on, in scrambling on d^jk. We took our meals on our laps, sitting around on boxes and barrels, and made amends for the want of style or elegance, by cordial good feeling and a practical exhibition of the best principles of " association." There was another pleasing peculiarity in this mode of floating. Two or more arks were frequently lashed together, by order of their commanders, whereby our conversational circle was increased, and it was not a rare circumstance to find both singers and musicians, in the moving communities for <' the west," so that tnose who were inclined to, might literally dance as they went. This was certainly a social mode of conquering the wilderness, and gives some idea of the bouyancy of American character. How different from the sensations felt, in floating down the same stream, by the same means, in the era of Boon, — the gloomy era of 1777, when instead of violin, or flageolet, the crack of the Indian rifle was the only sound to be anticipated at every new bend of the channel. Off Wheeling the commander of our ark made fast to a larger one from the Monongahela, which, among other acquaintances it brought, introduced me to the late Dr. Sellman of Cincinnatti, who had been a surgeon in Wayne's army. This opened a vista of reminiscences, which were wholly new to me, and served to impart historical interest to the scene. Some dozen miles below this town, we landed at the Grave Creek Flats, for the purpose of looking at the large mound, at that place. I did not then know that it was the largest artificial structure of this kind in t*:e western country. It was covered with forest trees of the native growth, some of which were several feet in diameter, and it "-zd indeed, essen- tially the same look and character, whic). I found it to present, twenty- five years afterwards, when I made a special visit to this remarkable mausoleum to verify the character of some of its antiquarian contents. On ascending the flat summit of the mound, I found a charming prospect around. The summit was just 50 feet across. There was a cup-shaped concavity, in its centre, exciting the idea that there had been some internal sub-structure which had given way, and caused the earth to cave in. This idea, after having been entertained for more than half a century, was finally verified in 1838, when Mr. Abelard Tomlinson, a grandson of the first proprietor, caused it to be opened. They discovered two remarkable vauhs, built partly of stone, and partly of logs, as was judged from the impressions in the earth. They were situated about seventeen feet ap?.rt, one above the other. Both contained bones, the remains of human skeletons, along with copper bracelets, plates of mica, sea shells, heads of wrought conch, called " ivory" by the muUitude, and some other relics, most of which were analogous to articles of the same kind occur- ring in other ancient mounds in the west. The occasio.i would not indeed have justified the high expectations which had been formed, had it not been for the discovery, in one of the vaults, of a small flat stone of an oval form, 14 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. containing an inscription in ancient characters. This inscription, which promises to throw new light on the early history of America, has not been decyphered. Copies of it have been sent abroad. It is thought, by the learned at Copenhagen, to be Celtiberic. It is not, in their view, Runic. It has, apparently, but one hieroglyphic, or symbolic figure. A good deal of historical interest clusters about this discovery of the mscribed stone. Tomlinson, the grandfather, settled on these flats in 1772, two years before the murder of Logan's family. Large trees, as large as any in the forest, then covered the flats and the mound. There stood in the depression I have mentioned, in the top of the mound, a large beech tree, which had been visited earlier, as was shewn by several names and dates cut on the bark. Among these, there was one of the date of A. D. 1734. This I have seen stated under Mr. Tomlinson's own hand. The place continued to be much visited from 1770 to 1790, as was shewn by newer names and dates, and indeed, continues to be so still. There was standing at the time of my first visit in 1818, on the very summit of the mound, a large dead or decayed white oak, which was cut down, it appears, about ten years afterwards. On counting its cortical layers, it was ascertained to be about 500 years old. This would denote the desertion of the mound to have happened about the commencement of the 13th century. Granting to this, what appears quite clear^ that the in- scription is of European origio, have we not evidence, in this fact, of the continent's having been visited prior to the era of Columbus? Visited by whom? By a people, or individuals, it may be said, who had the use of an antique alphabet, which was much employed, (ahhough corrupted, varied and complicated by its spread) among the native priest- hood of the western shores and islands of the European continent, prior to the introduction of the Roman alphabet. The next object of antiquarian interest, in my descent, was at Gallipolis — the site of an original French settlement on the west bank, which is connected with a story of much interest, in the history of western migrations. It is an elevated and eligible plain, which hud before been the site of an Indian, or aboriginal settlement. Some of the articles found in a mound, such as plates of mica and sea shells, and beads of the wrought conch, indicated the same remote period for this ancient settlement, as the one at Grave Creek Flats ; but I never heard of any inscribed articles, or monuments bearing alphabetic characters. All other interest, then known, on this subject, yielded to that which was felt in witnessing the antique works at Marietta. Like many others who had preceded me and many who have followed me, in my visit, I felt while walking over these semi-military ruins, a strong wish to know, who had erected works so different from those of the present race of In- dians, and during what phasis of the early history of the continent ? A covered way had, evidently, been constructed, from the margin of PERSONAL RFMINISCENCE8. 11 the Muskingum to the elevdted square, evincing more than the ordi* nary degree of military skill exercised by the Western Indians. Yet these works revealed one trait, which assimilates them, in character, with others, of kindred stamp, in the west. I allude to the defence of the open gate-way, by a minor mound ; clearly denoting that the passage was to be disputed by men, fighting hand to hand, who merely sought an advantage in exercising manual strength, by elevation of position. The Marietta tumuli also, agree in stylo with others in the Ohio valley. A leaden plate was found near this place, a few years after this visit, of which an account was given by Gov. Clinton, in a letter to the American Antiquarian Society, in 1827, but the inscription upon it, which was in Latin, but mutilated, proved that it related to the period of the French supremacy in the Canadas. It appeared to have been originally deposited at the mouth of the river Venango, A. D. 1749, durirg the reign of Louis XV. While at Marietta, our flotilla was increased by another ark from the Muskingum, which brought to my acquaintance the Hon. Jesse B. Thomas, of Illinois, to whose civilities I was afterwards indebted, on several occa- sions. Thus reinforced, we proceeded on, delighted with the scenery of every new turn in the river, and augmenting our circle of fellow travellers, and table acquaintance, if that can be called a table acquaintance which assembles around a rustic board. One night an accident befel us, which threatened the entire loss of one of our flotilla. It so happened, at the spot of our landing, that the smaller ark, being outside, was pressed by the larger ones, so far ashore, as to tilt the opposite side into the stream below the caulked seam It would have sunk, in a few minutes, but was held up, partly by its fastening to the other boats. To add to the interest felt, it was filled with valuable machinery. A congress of the whole travelling community assembled on shore, some pitching pebble-stones, and some taking a deeper interest in the fate of the boat. One or two unsuccessful efibrts had been made to bail it out, but the water flowed in faster than it cotrid be removed. To cut loose the rope and abandon it, seemed all that remained. " I feel satisfied," said I, " to my Massachusetts friend, that two men, bailing with might and main, can throw out more water, in a given time, than is let in by those seams ; and if you will step in with me, we will test it, by trying again." With a full assent and ready good will he met this proposition. We pulled off our coats, and each taking a pail, stepped in the water, then half-leg deep in the ark, and began to bail away, with all force. By dint of determination we soon had the satisfaction to see the water line lower, and catching new spirit at this, we finally succeeded in sinking its level below the caulked seam. The point was won. Others now stepped in to our relief The ark and its machinery were saved. This little incident was one of those which served to produce pleasurable sensations, all round, and led pei 16 •^ PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. haps, to some civilities at a subsequent date, which were valuable to me. At any rate, Mr. Thomas, who owned the ark, was so well pleased, that he ordered a warm breakfast of toast, chickens, and cofTee on shore for the whole party. This was a welcome substitute for our ordinary breakfast of bacon and tea on board. Such little incidents serve as new points of encouragement to travellers: the very shores of the river looked more delightful, after we put out, and went on our way that morn- ing. So much has a satisfied appetite to do with the aspect of things, both without, as well as within doors. The month of April had now fairly opened. The season was delight- ful. Every rural sound was joyful — every sight novel, and a thousand circumstances united to make the voyage one of deep and unmixed interest. At this early season nothing in the vegetable kingdom gives a more striking and pleasing character to the forest, than the frequent occurrence of the celtis ohioensis, or Red Bud. It presents a perfect bouquet of red, or rose-coloured petals, while there is not a leaf exfoliated upon its branches, or in the entire forest. No incident, further threatening the well being of our party, occurred on the descent to Cincinnatti, where we landed in safety. But long before we reached this city, its outliers^ to use a geological phrase, were encoun* tered, in long lines and rafts of boards and pine timber, from the sources of the Alleghany, and arks and flat-boats, from all imaginable places, with ail imaginable names, north of its latitude. Next, steamboats lying along the gravel or clay banks, then a steam-mill or two, puffing up its expended strength to the clouds, and finally, the dense mass of brick and wooden buildings, jutting down in rectangular streets — from high and exceedingly beautiful and commanding hills in the rear. All was suited to realize high expectations. Here was a city indeed, on the very spot from which St. Clair set out, on his ill-fated expedition in 1791, against the hostile Indians. Twenty-five years had served to transform the wilderness into scenes of cultivation and elegance, realizing, with no faint outlines, the gay creations of eastern fable, -l-f NO. III. Cincinnati had, at this time, (1818,) the appearance of a rapidly grow* ing city, which appeared to have, from some general causes, been suddenly checked in its growth. Whole rows of unfinished brick buildings had betm left by the workmen. Banks, and the offices of corporate and manu- fiicturing companies, were not unfrequently found shut. Nor did it re- quite long looking or much inquiry to learn that it had seen more pros- perous times. A branch bank of the U. S. then recently established there, was much and bitterly, but I know not how justly, spoken against. But if there was not the same life and air in all departments, that formerly ex- isted, there was abundant evidence of the existence of resources in the city and country, which must revive and push it onward in its career and growth, to rank second to no city \"est of the AUeghanies. This city owes its origin, I believe, to John Cleves Symes, father-in-law of the late Presi- dent Harrison, a Jerseyman by birth, who, in planning it, took Philadel- phia as his model. This has imparted a regularity to its streets, and squares, that visitors will at once recognize, as characteristic of its paren- tage. It stands on a heavy diluvial formation of various layers of clay, loam, sand, and giavel, disposed in two great plateaux, or first and second banJ.£S, the lowest of which is some thirty or forty feet above the common summer level of the Ohio. Yet this river has sometimes, but rarely, been known to surmount this barrier and invade the lowermost streets of the city. These diluvial beds have yielded some curious antiquarian relics, which lead the mind farther back, for their origin, than the Indian race. The most curious of these, if the facts are correctly reported to me, was the discovery of a small antique-shaped iron horse-shoe, found twenty-five feet below the surface in grading one of the streets, and the blunt end, or stump of a tree, at another locality, at the depth of ninety-four feet, to- gether with marks of the cut of an axe, and an iron wedge. I have had no means to verify these facts, but state them ns credible, from the cor- roborative testimony afforded them by other discoveries in the great geolo- gical basin of the west, examined by me, which denote human occupancy m America prior to the deposition of the last of the unconsolidated and eocene series. Our flotilla here broke up, and the persons who had formed its floating 8 " 1$ PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. community separated, each to pursue his several way, and separate viewf. I made several acquaintances, whose names are recollected with pleasure. Dr. S. invited me to dine with him, introduced me to his young partner, Dr. Moorhead, and put me in the way of obtaining eligible private lodg- ings. The three weeks I spent in this city were agreeably passed, varied as they were, by short excursions in the vicinity, including the Licking valley — a stream which comes in, on the Kentucky side, directly opposite the city. I went, one day, to see an experimental structure, built at the foot of the Walnut hills, with a very long pipe, or wooden chamber lead- ing up their sides, and rising above their tops. This was constructed by an ingenious person, at the expense of the late Gen. Lyttle, under the con- fident hope of bis realizing a practical mechanical power from the rari- faction of atmospheric air. There was confessedly a power, but the diffi- culty was in multiplying this power, so as to render it practically appli- cable to the turning of machinery. The ratio of its increase, contended for, namely, the length of the pipe, appeared to me to be wholly fallacious, and the result proved it so. The thing was afterwards abandoned. There was an ancient mound here, which had not then been opened, but which has since yielded a curious ornamented stone, bearing a kind of arabesque figures, not dissimilar, in the style of drawing, to some of the rude sculp- tured figures of Yucatan, as recently brought to light by Mr. Stephens and Mr. Catherwood. I received, one day, a note from one of the directors of the White Lead Works, above the city, requesting me to visit it, and inspect in detail the processes of the manufacture. The latter I found to be defective in the mode of corroding the lead by the acetic acid ; there was also an unneces- sary complication and amount or* machinery in bringing the oxide into the condition of a good pigment, and putting it into kegs, which had been very onerous in its cost, and was perpetually liable to get out of order. It was during my stay here that I first felt the effects of the western limestone waters m deranging the stomach and bowels, and paid for my initiation into the habit, as all strangers must, by some days confinement. Dr. M. brought me about, and checked the disease, without any perma- nently injurious effects on my general health. When I was ready to proceed down the river, I went to seek a passage along the landing, but found no boat (steamboats were few and far be- tween in those days.) While pacing the beach, I met a man of gentle- manly appearance, who had experienced the same disappointment, and was desirous to go forward in his journey. He told me, that he had found a small row boat, well built, and fitted with seats, which could be pur- chased for a reasonable sum ; that it would hold our baggage very well, and he thought we could make a pleasant trip in it as far as Louisville at the Falls, where the means of communication by steamboats were ample. On examining the boat, and a little inquiry, I acceded to this proposition, PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. It pur- [ell, at jle. «nd I had no cause to regret it This gentleman, whose name I have for ner in which I associated the modern town with reminiscences of the savages. "Why, sir," said he, as we walked the deck of the ark, floating down the Ohio, and getting nearer the place every moment, " we have n bank there, and a court house ; it is the seat of justice for Gallatin county ; — «nd a printing press is about to be established ; — it is a very thriving place, and it bids lair to remain second to none below the Wabash." "All this, truly," I responded, willing to reprove pride in an easy way, " is a great improvement on the wigwam and the council-Are, and wampum coin-beads." It is sometimes better to smile than argue, and I found it so on the present occasion. I did not wish to tread on the toes of rising greatness, or pour upon a love of home and locality, honorable ond praise-worthy in my fellow traveller, the chilling influence of cold historical facts. My allu- sions were the mere effect of the association of ideas, resulting from names. If the residents of Shawne«>Tn'vn do not like to be associated with the native race, who would not have exchanged a good bow and arrows for all the court houses in Christendom, they should bestow upon the place some epithet which may sever the ti»- r-.i <^ i- ■ I. NO. IV. After stopping a day or more at Shawneetown, and reconnoitenng its ▼icinity, I proceeded to the mouth of the Cumberland, and from thence, after many days detention at that point waiting for a boat, to the mouth of the Ohio. I found this to be a highly interesting section of the river, from its great expanse and its fine water prospects. The picturesque calcareous cliflls on the west banks, disphy a novel and attractive line of river scenery. The Ohio had, from its commencement, well sustained the propriety of its ancient appellation of the Beautiful River ; but it here assumed something more than beautiful — it was majestic. Let it be borne in mind that this stream, in the course of some seven or eight hundred miles flow from Pittsburg to Shawneetown, had been swelled on the right and left hand by the Scioto, the Muskingum, the Kentucky, the Miami, Green River, Wa- bash, and other rivers of scarcely inferior size. It is still further aug- mented, from the left bank, with those noble tributaries, the Cumberland and Tennessee, which bring in the gathered drain of the middle ranges of the AUeghanies. It is below Shawneetown, too, that the clifis of the Cave-in-Rock-Coast present themselves on the west shore — with their as- sociations of the early robber-era which has been commemorated by the pen of fiction of Charles Brockden Brown. These clifis are cavernous^ and assume varied forms. They rise in bold elevations, which bear the general name of the Knobs, but which are well worthy of the name of moun- tains. Distinct from the interest they have by casting their castle-like shadows, at sunset, in the pure broad stream, they constitute a kind of Derbyshire in their fine purple spars, and crystalized galena and other mineralogical attractions. I was told that a German of the name of Storch, who pretended to occult knowledge, had, years before, led money and mineral diggers about these Knobs, and that he was the discoverer of th« fine fluates of lime found here. One can hardly pass these broken eminences, ^yith the knowledge that they tally in their calcareous structure and position with the rock forma- tion of the Missouri state border, lying immediately west of them, without rej[arding them as the apparent monuments of some ancient geological change, which afTected a very wide space of country north of their posi- tion. A barrier of this nature, which should link the Tennessee and Mis- 93 24 PERSONAL RKMIMftCENOES. soari coaats, at Grand Tower, would have converted into an inland the principal area of the present states of Illinois, Indiana, and Southern Ohio. The lino of separation in this latitude is not great. It constitutes the narrowest point between the opposing rock formations of the east and west shores, so far us the latter rise through and above the soil. I was still in a floating Monongahela ark as we approached this coast of cliffs. The day was one of the mildest of the month of June, and the surface of the water was so still and calm that it presented the appearance of a perfect mirror. Our captain ordered alongside the skiff, which served as his jolly boat, and directed the men to land me at the Great Cave. Its wide and yawning mouth gave expectations, however, which were not realized. It closes rapidly as it is pursued into the rock, and never could have afforded a safe shelter for gangs of robbers whose haunts were known. Tradition states, on this point, that its mouth was formerly closed apd hid by trees and foliage, by which means the unsuspecting voyagers with their upward freight were waylaid. We overtook the slowly float* ing ark before it had reached Hurricane Island, and the next land we made was at Smithiield, at the mouth of the Cumberland. While here, several discharged Tennessee militiamen, or volunteers from the still un- finished Indian war in the south, landed on their way home. They were equipped ailer the fashion of western hunters, with hunting shirts and rifles, and took a manifest pride in declaring that they had fought under " old Hickory" — a term which has, since that era, become familiar to the civilized world. I here first saw that singular excrescence in the vegeta- ble kingdom called cypress knees. The point of land between the mouth of the Cumberland and Ohio, was a noted locality of the cypress tree. This tree puts up from its roots a blunt cone, of various size and height, which resembles a sugar loaf. It is smooth, and without limb or foliage. An ordinary cone or knee would measure eight inches in diam- eter, and thirty inches high. It would seem like an abortive effort of the tree to put up another growth. The paroquet was exceedingly abundant at this place, along the shores, and in the woods. They told me that this bird rested by hooking its upper mandible to a limb. I made several shooting excursions into the neighbouring forests, and remember that I claimed, in addition to smaller trophies of these daily rambles, a shrike and a hystrix. At length a keel boat came in from the Illinois Saline, commanded by a Captain Ensminger — an Americo-German — a bold, frank man, very intelligent of things relating to river navigation. With him I took passage for St. Louis, in Missouri, and we were soon under weigh, by the force of oars, for the mouth of the Ohio. We stopped a short time at a new hamlet on the Illinois shore, which had been laid out by some speculators of Cincinnati, but was remarkable for nothing but its name. It wai called, by a kind of bathos in nomenclature, " America." I observed on PERSONAL REMINISCENCE!. 86 the shores of the river at this place, a very recent formation of pudding* stone, or rather a local stratum of indurated pebbles and clay, in which the cementing ingredient wub )hu oxyde of iron. Chalybeate waters per* colated over and amongst this mass, This was the last glimpse of consol* idated matter. All below, and indeed far above, was alluvial, or of recent origin. Nothing couiJ exceed thu fertile chaiacler of the soil, or its rank vegetation and forest growth, as we appi niched the point of junction; but it was a region subject to periodical overflows, the oras of which were very distinctly marked by tufts and bunches of grass, limbs, and other floating matter which had been lodged and left in the forks and broncbes of trees, now fifteen or twenty feet above our heads. It was now the first day of July, ^nd I felt the most intense interest as we approached and came to the point of confluence. I had followed the Ohio, in all its sinuosities, a thou* sand miles. I had spent more than three months in its beautiful and va* ried valley ; and I had something of the attachment of an old friend for its noble volume, and did not well like to see it about to be lost in the mighty Mississippi. Broad and ample as it was, however, bringing in the whole congregated drain of the western slopes of the AUeghanics and the table lands of the Great Lakes, the contest was soon decided. The stream had, at that season, sunk down to its summer level, and exhibited a transparent blue volume. The Mississippi, on the contrary, was swelled by the melt* ing snows of the Rocky Mountains, and was in its vernal flood. Coming in at rather an acute angle, it does not immediately arrest the former, but throws its waters along the Tennessee shores. It runs with prodigious velocity. Its waters are thick, turbid, and replete with mingled and float* ing masses of sand and other comminuted rock and floating vegetation, trees, and rubbish. For miles the line of separation between the Ohio and Mississippi waters was visible by its colour ; but long before it reaches the Iron Banks, the modern site of Memphis — the Father of Waters, as it is poetically- not literally, called — had prevailed, and held on its way to make new conquests of the St. Francis, the White, the Arkansas, and other noble streams. Our captain, although he had no lack of self-confidence, did not seem to be in haste to grapple with this new foe, by plunging at once into the tur* bid stream, but determined to try it next morning. This left me, a good part of the day, in a position where there was not much to reward inquiry. I fished awhile from the boat's side, but was rewarded with nothing besides a gar, a kind of sword, or rather billed fish, which appears to be provided with this appendage to stir up its food or prey from a muddy bottom. Its scales and skin are nearly as hard and compact as a shark's, and its flesh is equally valueless. It is at this point that the town of Cairo has since been located. There were, at the period mentioned, several arks and flat*boats lying on the higher banks, where they had been moored in high water. These now served as dwellings, and by cutting doors in 26 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. their sides they formed rude groceries and provision stores. Whatever else, however, was to be seen at so low and nascent a point, the mosquito, as night came on, soon convinced us that he was the true magnate of those dominions. The next morning at an early hour our stout-hearted commander put his boatmen in motion, and turned his keel into the torrent ; but such was the velocity of the water, and its opacity and thick turbidness, that I thought we should have been precipitated down stream, and hurled against sunken logs. Those who have ascended this stream in the modern era of steamboats, know nothing of these difficulties. It seemed impossible to stem the current. A new mode of navigation, to me at least, was to be tried, and it was evidently one which the b'-st practised and stoutest-hearted men by no means relished. These boats are furnished with a plank walk on each side, on which slats are nailed to give a foothold to the men. Each man has a pole of ash wood about 16 feet long, with a wooden knob at the head to rest against the shoulder, and a blunt point at the other end shod with iron. Planting these upon the bottom near shore, with their heads facing down stream, the men bend all their force upon them, pro pelling the boat by their feet in the contrary direction. This is a very laborious and slow mode of ascent, which has now been entirely super seded on the main rivers by the use of steam. Such is the fury and velocity of the current, that it threatens at every freshet to tear down and burst asunder its banks, and run lawless through the country. Often whole islands are swept away in a short time. We had an instance of this one night, when the island against which we were moored, began to tumble into the channel, threatening to overwhelm us by the falling earth and the recoil of the waves, and we got away to the main shore Avith much effort, for night was set in, the current furious, and the shore to which we were going entirely unknown. To have struck a sunken log on such a traverse, under such circumstances, must have been fatal. We got at length upon a firm shore, where we moored and turned in at a late hour ; but a curious cause of alarm again roused us. Some animal had made its appearance on the margin of the stream, not far below us, which in the dimness of the night appeared to be a bear. All who had arms, got them, and there was quite a bustle and no little excitement among the cabin passengers. The inost knowing pronounced it to be a white bear. It produced a snorting sound resembling it. It seemed furi- ous. Both white and furious it certainly was, but after much delay, com- mendable caution, and no want of the display of courage, it turned out to be a large wounded hog, which had been shot in the snout and head, and came to allay its fevered and festered flesh, by night, in the waters of the Mississippi. To stem the current along this portion of the river required almost superhuman power. Often not more than a few miles can be made with PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. J7 a hard daVs exertions. We went the first day six miles, the second about the same distance, and the third eight miles, which brought us to the first cultivated land along a low Hi"*- lot of the west shore, called the Tyewapety Bottom. There were six or eight small farms at this spot ; the land rich, and said to be quite well adapted for corn, flax, hemp, and tobacco. I ob- served here the papaw. The next day we ascended but three miles and stopped, the crew being found too weak to proceed. While moored to the bank, we were passed by several boats destin" for St. Louis, which were loaded with pine boards and plank from 01* t, on the sources of the Al- leghany. They told us that sixty dollars }>t : thousand feet could be ob- tained for them. Additional men having been hired, we went forward the next day to a point which is called the Little Chain of Rocks, where, from sickness In some of the hands, another hah became necessary. It is at this point that the firm cherty clay, or diluvial soil of the Missouri shore, first presents itself on the banks of the river. This soil is of a sterile and mineral cha- racter, I noticed beneath the first elevated point of it, near the river's edge, a locality of white compact earth, which is called chalk, and is actually used as such by mechanics. On giving a specimen of it, after my return to New York in 1819, to Mr. John Griscom, he found it completely desti- tute of carbonic acid ; it appears to be a condition of alumine or nearly pure clay. Large masses of pudding-stone, disrupted from their original position, were seen lying along the shore at this locality, being similar in their character to that seen on approaching the mouth of the Ohio. We ascended the river this day ten miles, and the next five miles, whiih brought us to Cape Girardeau, at the estimated distance of fifty miles above the mouth of the Ohio. At this place I was received wuh attention by one of the principal residents, who, on learning that my object was to examine the natural history of the country, invited me to his house. In rambling the vicinity, they showed me a somewhat extra but dilapidated and deserted house, which had been built by one Loramee, a Spanish trader, who has left his name on one of the branches of the river St. Mary's of Indiana. This old fabric excited a strong interest in my mind as I walked through its open doors and deserted rooms, by a popular story, how true I know not, that the occupant had been both a rapacious and cruel man, siding with the Indians in the hostilities against our western people ; and that he had, on one occasion, taken a female captive, and with his own hands cut off her breasts. The journey from Cape Girardeau to St. Louis occupied nineteen days, and was fraught with scenes and incidents of interest, which I should de- tail with pleasure were it compatible with my limits. Indeed, every day's voyage along this varied and picturesque shore presented objects of remark, which both commended themselves to my taste, and which the slow mode of ascent gave me full means to improve. This might be said particularly 98 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. of its geological structure and its niine|aIogical productions — themes which were then fresh and new, but which have lost much of their attractions by the progress which natural science has made in the country during six and twenty years. To these topics it is the less necessary to revert, as they were embraced in the results of my tour, given in my " View of the Mines;' published in 1819. The article improperly called pumice, which floats down the Missouri during its floods, from the burning coal banks in the Black Hills, I first picked up on the shore in the ascent above Cape Girardeau, and it gave me an intimation that the waters had commenced falling. We came to, the same night, at a well known fountain, called the Moccasin Spring, a copious and fine spring of crystal water, which issues from an elongated orifice in the limestone rock. While lying at the mouth of the river Obrazo, where we were detained on account of hands, several boats touched at the place, carrying emigrants from Vermont and New York, whose destination was the most westerly settlements on the Missouri. At higher points in the ascent we encoun- tered emigrants from Maine, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and Kentucky, which denotes the wide range of the spirit of migration at the era. The ends of the Union seemed to be brought together by this general movement towards the west. It was not uncommon to find rep- resentatives from a great number of the states in these accidental meetings ; they were always of a social and highly friendly character, and the eflect of such a system of intercommunication and residence, from districts widely separated, could not but be highly auspicious in promoting uniformity of manners and opinions, and assimilating customs, dress, and language. If long contmued it must destroy provincialisms, and do muck to annihilate local prejudices. Every one who has ascended this stream will recollect the isolated cliflf*, standing in its waters, called Grand Tower, with the corresponding de- velopments of the coast on the contiguous shores, which tell the traveller plainly enough that here is the site of some ancient disruptive process in the physical history of the valley. The current has an increased velocity in sweeping around this obstacle ; and we found, as the waters fell, that there were numerous eddies and strong jets or currents along this precipi- tous coast, which it required extra force to surmount. We saw one day a number of pelicans standing on a sand bar. The wild turkey and quail were daily encountered on shore. Our approach to St. Genevieve was preceded by a sight of one of those characteristic features in all the early French settlements in this quarter — the great public field extending several miles, five miles I think, along the banks of the river. St. Genevieve itself lies about a mile from the river, and is concealed by irregularities in the surface. It is a highly charac- teristic antique French town, and reminds one strongly of the style and i PERSONAL RKMINISCENCES. 29 manner of building of the provincial villages and towns of the parent country, as still existing. Three miles above this place we came to a noted point of crossing called the Little Rock Ferry ; a spot worthy of note at that time as the residence of a very aged Frenchman, called Le Breton. Statements which are believed to be true, made him 109 years old. From his own account he was at the seige of Bergen-op-zoom, in Flanders; at the seige of Louisburg; at the building of Fort Chartres, in Illinois; and at Braddock's defeat. After his discharge, he discovered those extensive lead mines in Washington county, about forty miles west of the river, which still bear his name. The coast between St. Genevieve and Herculaneum is almost one con- tinuous clifTof precipitous rocks, which are broken through chiefly at the points where rivers and streams discharge. Herculaneum itself is seated on one of these limited areas, hemmed in by cliffs, which, in this case, were rendered stiil more picturesque by their elevated shot towers. I landed at this place about noon of my twenty-secoAd day's ascent, and find- ing it a convenient avenue to the mine district, determined to leave my baggage at a hotel till my return from St. Louis, and pursue the rest of the journey to that place on foot. It was at this point that I was introduced to IVIr. Austin, the elder, who warmly approved my plan of exploring the mines, and offered every facility in his power to further it. Mr. Austin was, he informed me at a subsequent stage of our acquaintance, a native of Connecticut. He had gone early into Virginia and settled at Richmondi where his eldest son was born, and afterwards removed to Wythe county. In 1778 he went into Upper Louisiana, enduring severe sufferings and the risk of life, in crossing the country by way of Vincennes to St. Louis, 'vhere he was well received by the Spanish local governor. He obtained a grant of land in the present area of Washington county, the principal seat of the older mines. About the time I went to Missouri, or soon after it, he resolved to visit San Antonio, in Texas, with a view of introducing a colony of Americans into that quarter. This plan he carried into execu- tion, I think, in 1820, and returned with an ample grant; but he did not live to carry its stipulations into effect, having died suddenly after his return, at the house of his daughter, Mrs. Bryant, at Hazel Run. Mr. Austin was a man of great vceal and fervour of imagination, and en- tered very warmly into all his plans and views, whatever they were. He was hospitable, frank, intelligent, and it is with feelings of unmixed plea- sure, that I revert to my acquaintance with him, no less than with his talented son, Stephen, and the excellent, benign, and lady-like Mrs. Austin, and Other members of this intelligent family. NO. V. Herculaneum had nothing in common with it9 sombre Itahan proto- type, which has been dug out of dust and ashes in modern times, but its name. Instead of buried palaces and ruins of a hixurious age of marble, bronze and silver, most of tlic houses were buih of squared oak loo-s, and had bulky old fashioned chimneys, built outside with a kind of castelated air, as they are seen in the old French and Dutch settlements in Canada, and along the vallies of the Hudson and Mohawk. The arts of painting and gilding and cornices, had not yet extended their empire here. Mr. Austin's residence, was the only exception to this remark, I remember. The Courts of Justice were content to hold their se.ssions in one of tho oaken timber buildings named ; the county jail had a marvellous re- semblance to an ample smoke-house, and my kind host, Ellis, who was a na live of South Carolina, was content to serve up substantial and good cheer in articles, not exhumed from a city buried in volcanic a.ihes, but in plain fabrics of Staffordshire and Birmingham. In addition to the host-like and agreeable resort, which travellers unexpectedly found at his hands, in a mansion whose exterior gave no such signs, he presided over the depart- ment of a public ferry, established at this place, across the wild and fluc- tuating Mississippi; and had he kept note book, he could have given account of many a one, from other lands, with golden hopes of the far west, whom he had safely conducted, against the most adverse floods, to the Missouri shore. I found a few old books at his house, which showed that there had been readers in his family, and which helped to while away moments, which every traveller will find on his hands. I have intimated that there was nothing in the way of the antique, in Herculaneum, but its name. To this I might add, that there was no ex- ception, unless it be found in the impressions of objects, in the structure of the rocks, in this quarter, denoting a prior age of existence. I was shown an impression, in the surface of a block of limestone, quarried here, which was thought to resemble a man's foot. It did not appear to me to bear this similitude, but was rather to be referred to some organic extinct forms, which are not yet well understood. Having passed a couple of days here, I set out early one moining, 30 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 31 on foot, for St. Louis, accompanied by two young men from Pennsylvaaiaj with whom I had become acquainted on prior parts of my route. They had come with an adventure of merchandize from the waters of the Yioughagany, and were desirous of seeing the (then) capitol of the Terri- tory. Nothing untoward occurred, until we reached and crossed the river Merrimack, where night overtook us, and set in with intense dark- ness, just as we reached the opposite shore. There was but one house in the vicinity ; and nut distant more than a mile, but such was the intensity of the darkness, owing to clouds and a gathering storm, that we lost the road, wandered in the woods for some hours, during which the rain com- menced, and were at length directed to the house we sought, by the faint and occasional tinkling of a cow bell. We travelled the next morning twelve miles, to breakfast at the antique 6oking village of Carondalet. The route lies over an elevated tract of uplands, eligibly situated on the right bank of the Mississippi, in which a growth of wild prairie grass and flowers, filled up the broad spaces be- tween the trees. There was no habitation visible on the route — a stand- ing spring under a ledge of rocks, about half way, was the only spot where we could get a drop of water to allay our thirst — for it was a hot August day. We encountered several deer, and from the frequent occur- rence of their tracks, deemed such an occurrence to be common. It is on this elevated and airy tract, that the site of Jeflerson Barracks, has since been judiciously established by the government. Beyond Carondalet, the country has the appearance of a grown-up heath. It is a bushy uninviting tract, without mature forest trees. The most interesting feature we saw, consisted of a number of regular depres- sions, or cup-shaped concavities in the soil, caused by the passage of springs over a clay basis, upon which there is deposited a heavy diluvial stratum of sand, mixed earth and pebbles. Within about three miles of the city, this heathy and desolate tract began to assume a cultivated character ; dwellings and gardens soon succeeded, and we found ourselves, by almost imperceptible grades, introduced into the city, which we reached about four o'clock m the afternoon. On entering its ancient Spanish barriers, we noticed one of the old stone towers, or defences, which constituted a part of the enclosure. This town, I afterwards learned, had been regu- larly walled and fortified, during the possession of the country by the/ Spanish crown. As soon as I had taken lodgings, I called on R. Petti- bone Esq., a friend formerly of Vernon, in western N. Y. who had estab- lished himself in this central city of the west, in the practice of the law; he was not in, at the moment, but his family received me with cordiality. He returned my visit in the evening, and insisted on my taking up my quarters at his house. The time that I spent here, was devoted to the most prominent objects which the town and its vicinity presented to in- terest a stranger, such as the private museum of the late Gea. Wm. Clark, 32 PERSONAL RBBflNISCENCES. containing many articles of rich and valuable Indian costume ; the large natural mounds above the city, and the character of the rock formation along the shores of the river, which w is said to have had the impressions of human feet, on its original surface. The latter I did not see till the summer of 1821, when the block of stone containing them was examined in Mr. Rapp's garden, at Harmony, on the Wabash. My inclinations having led me, at this time, to visit the extensive lead mines, southwest of this city, on the waters of the Merrimack, I lost no time in retracing my way to Herculaneum, by descending the Mississippi. When 1 was prepared to descend the river, the two gentlemen who had been my travelling companions, on the journey up, had completed the business of their adventure, and offered me a seat, in a small boat, under their control. It was late in the afternoon of the day that this arrangement was proposed, and it was dusk before we embarked ; but it was thought the village of Cahokia, some five or six miles below, could be reached in good season. A humid and misty atmosphere rendered the night quite dark, and we soon found ourselves afloat on the broad current of the stream, without knowing our position, for it was too intensely dark to descry the outlines of either shore. Being in a light open boat, we were not only in some peril, from running foul of drifting trees, but it became disagreeably cold. On putting in for the Illinois shore, a low sandy bar, or shoal was made, but one of my companions who had landed came running back with an account of a bear and her cub, which caused us to push on about a mile further, where we passed the night, without beds or fire. Daylight disclosed to us the fact that we had passed Caho kia: we then crossed over to the Missouri shore, and having taken break fast at Carondalet, continued the voyage, without any further misadvei* ture, and reached Herculaneum at noon. I lost no time in preparing to visit the mines, and having made arrang* ments for my baggage to follow, set out on foot for Potosi. The first daj I proceeded eighteen miles, and reached Steeples, at the head of th* Zwoshau, or Joachim river, at an early hour. The day was excessively hot, and the road lay for the greater part of the distance, over a ridge of. land, which afforded no water, and very little shelter from the sun's rays. I met not a solitary individual on the route, and with the exception of the small swift footed lizard, common to the way side, and a single wild turkey, nothing in the animal kingdom. The antlers of the deer frequently seen above the grass, denoted it however to abound in that animal. I was con- strained while passing this dry tract, to allay my thirst at a pool, in a ru', not, however, without having (Ksconcerted a wild turkey, which had cou-s apparently for the same purpose. Next day I crossed the valley of Grand or Big river, as it is commonly called, and at the distance of twelve miles from the Joachim, I entered the mining village of Shibboleth — the feudal seat, so to say, of the noted DA COT AH WOMAN AND CHILD. mil >n PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. m "John Smith T." of whose singularities rumour had already apprized me. Here was a novel scene. Carts passing with loads of ore — smehing fur naoes, and fixtures, and the half-hunter, half-farmer costumes of the ptoup of men who were congregated about the principal store, told mt Ty plainly, that I was now in the mining region. Lead digging and dis- covering, and the singular hap-hazards of men who had suddenly got rich by finding rich beds of ore, and suddenly got poor by some folly or extra- vagance, gave a strong colouring to the whole tone of conversation at thiir spot, which was carried on neither in the mildest or most unobtrusive way ; quite a vocabulary of new technical words burst upon me, of which it was necessary to get the correct import. I had before heard of the pretty term, " mineral blossom," as the local name for radiated quartz, but here were tiff (sulphate of barytes), glass-tiff (calcareous spar); " mineral sign," and a dozen other words, to be found in no books. At the head of these new terms stood the popular word "mineral," which invariably meant galena, and nothing else. To hunt mineral, to dig mineral, and to smell mineral, were so many operations connected with the reduction of th« ores of galena. I soon found the group of men about the village store, was a company of militia, and that I was in the midst of what New Yorkers call a " train- ing," which explained the hunter aspect I had noticed. They werit armed with rifles, and dressed in their every day leather or cotton hunting shirts. The officers were not distinguished from the men, either because swords were not easily procured, or more probably, because they did not wish to appear with so inefficient and useless an arm. " Food for powder," was the first term that occurred to me on first surveying this group of men, but nothing could have been more inapposite ; for ahhough like " lean Jack's" men, they had but little skill in standing in a right line, never were men better skilled for personal combat, — from the specimens given, I believe there was hardly a man present, who could not drive a bullet into the size of a dollar at a hundred yards. No man was better skilled in this art, either with rifle or pistol, than the Don of the village, the said John Smith T, or his brother, called "the Major," neither of whom travelled, or eat, or slept, as I afterwards witnessed, without their arms. During my subsequent rambles in the mine country, I have sat at the same table, slept in the same room, and enjoyed the conversation of one or the other, and can say, that their extraordinary habit of going fully armed, was united in both with courteous manners, honourable sentiments, and high chivalric notions of personal independence ; and I had occasion to notice, that it was none but their personal enemies, or opponents in business, thai dealt in vituperation against them. John Smith T. was doubtless a man of singular and capricious humours, and a most fiery spirit, when aroused; of which scores of anecdotes are afloat. He was at variance with several of his most conspicuous neighbours, and, if he be likened to the lion of 3 I ■W§ PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. the forest, it will be perfectly just to add, that most of the leanei animals stood in fear of him. My stop here had consumed some time, but thinking I could 'Still reach Mini a Burton, I pushed on, but had only proceeded a couple of miles when I was hastily compelled to seek shelter from an impending shower. As it was late, and the storm continued, I remained at a farm house, at Old Mines during the night. They gave me a 5>upper of rich fresh milk and fine corn bread. In the morning, a walk of three miles brought me to Potosi, where I took lodgings at Mr. Ficklin's, proprietor of the principal inn of the place. Mr. F. was a native of Kentucky, a man of open frank manners, and most kind benevolent feelings, who had seen much of frontier life, had lived a number of years in Missouri, and now at a rather advanced period of life, possessed a fund of local knowledge and experience, the communication of which rendered the time I spent at his house both profitable and pleasing. I reached Potosi on the second of \ugust. The next day was the day of the county election*, which brought together the principal miners and agricultural gentlemen of the region, and gave me a favourable oppor^ tunity of forming acquaintance, and making known the object of my visit. I was particularly indebted to the civilities of Stephen F. Austin, Esq. for these introductions. During my stay in the country he interested himself in my success, omitted no opportunity of furthering my views, and extending my acquaintance with the geological features and resources of the country. He offered me an apartment in the old family mansion of Durham Hall, for the reception and accumulation of my collections. Mr. Bates and sons, Mr. Jones and sons, Mr. Perry and brothers, Mr. Elliot, Mr. Brickey, Mr. Honey and others, seconded these civilities. In* deed the friendly and obliging disposition I uniformly met with, from the inhabitants of the mines, and the mine country generally, is indelibly im- pressed on my memory I was now at the capital of the mines, and in a position most favour- able for obtaining true information of their character and value. Three months devoted to this object left scarcely a nook of the country which I had not either personally explored, or obtained authentic information of I found forty-five principal mines, or mineral diggings as some of them are called, within a circumference of less than forty miles. Potosi, and its vicinity yielded annually about three millions of pounds of lead, and furnished employment to the estimated num- ber, of eleven to twelve hundred hands. The business was however de- pressed, like almost every other branch of domestic arts or industry, aAcr the peace of 1814, owing to the great influx and low prices of * About 70 votes were polled in the town of Potosi. ntnmed by the county to the Territorial Legislature. Mr. Austin, the younger, w«w I.. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. foreign products, and the general derangement ot currency and credit Prepared ore, delivered at the furnaces, was worth two dollnrs per cwt., paid chiefly in merchandize. Pig lead sold at four dollars, at the mines ; and but half a dollar higher on the banks of the Mississippi, and was quoted at seven dollars in the Atlantic cities. Judged from these data, there appeared no adequate cause for ihe alleged depression ; for in addi- tion to the ordinary merchant's profit, in the disposition of his stock to the operative miner or digger of ore, a profit of one cent and a half pnr pound was left, over and above the cost of transportation to an eastern market ; besides, the difference in exchange, between the south western and eastern cities. And it was evident, from a view of the vvl'olo subject, that the business could not only be profitably pursued, with economical arrange- ments, but that the public domain, upon which most of the mines are seated, might be made to yield a revenue to the treasury, at least equal to the amount of this article required for the national consumption, over the expenses, the superintendence and management. Besides which, there was groat room for improved and economical modes of mining; and there was hardly one of the manipulations, from the making of a common drill or pick, to the erection of a smelting furnace, which did not admit of salu- tary changes for the better. The recovery of the mere waste lead, in its sublimated form, around the open log furnaces of the country, promised to add a valuable item to the profit of the business. The most wasteful, hurried^ and slovenly of all systems is pursued in exploring and raising the ore, by A'hich the surface of the country is riddled with pit holes, in the most random manner ; the loose and scattered deposits in the soil hastily gathered up, and the real lead and vems of metal left, in very many cases, untouched. Thousands of square acres of land were thus partially rifled of their riches, and spoiled, and condemned, without being exhausted. By having no scientific knowledge of minerol veins and geological structure, as prac- tically adopted in Europe, all rule in the process of mining and raising the ore had degenerated into mere guess work, and thousands of dollars had been wasted, in some places, where the application of some of the plainest mining principles, would not have warranted the removal of n shovel full of earth. In short, there was here observed, a blending of the miner and farmer character. Almost every farmer was a miner. Plan- ters who had slaves, employed them part of the year in mining; and every miner, to some extent was a farmer. Because the ore found in the clay beds did not occur in east and west, or north and south lines, or its rules of deposition had not been determined by careful observation, all success in the exploration was supposed to be the result of chance. And whoever surveys the mineral counties of Missouri, \vL\ be ready to con- clude, that more labour has been thrown away in the helter-skelter sys- tem of digging, than was ever applied to well directed or profitable || riCRSONAL RA.MINISCENCEa mining. Had an absolute monarch called for this vast an.ount of labour from his people to build some monument, he would have been declared the greatest tyrant Indend, I know of no instance in America, of the misapplication of so great on amount of free labour — labour cheerfully bestowed, and thrown away without a regret. For the losers in mining, like the adventurers in a lottery, have no one to blame but themselves. It appeared to me that a statement of the actual condition of the mines, would be received with attention at Washington, and that u system for the better management of them could not but bo approved, were it properly brought forward. I determined to miiko the attempt. It did not, how- ever, appear to me, that nature had limited the deposits of ore to one spe- cies, or to so limited an area, nnd I sought means to extend my personal * examinations farther west and south. To bring this about, and to collect the necessary information to base statements on, in a manner correspondent to my wishes, required time, and a systematic mode of recording facts. To this object, in connexion with the natural history of the country, I devoted the remainder of the year, and a part of the following year. I soon found, after reaching the mines, that I had many coadjutors in the business of collecting specimens, in the common miners, some of whom were in the habit of laying aside for me, any thing they found, in their pits and leads, which assumed a new or curious character. Inquiries and applications relative to tho mineralogy and structure of the country were made, verbally and by letter, from many quarters. I established my resi- dence at Potosi, but made excursions, from time to time, in various direc- tions. Some of these excursions were fruitful of incidents, which would be worth recording, did the cursory character of these reminiscences per- mit it. On one occasion, I killed a horse by swimming him across the Joachim river, at its mouth, whilst he was warm and foaming from a hard day's ride. He was put in the stable and attended, but died the next day, as was supposed, from this sudden transition. There was scarcely a mine or digging in the country, for forty miles around, which I did not personally examine ; and few persons, who had given attention to the subject, from whcm I did not derive some species of information. The general hospitality and frankness of the inhabitants of the mine country could not but make a favourable impression on a stranger. The custom of riding on- horseback, in a region which affords great facilities for it, makes every one a horseman and a woodsman, and has generated something of the cavalier air and manners. But nothing impressed me more, in this connexion, than the gallant manner, which I observed here, of putting a lady on horseback. She stands facing you, with the bridle in her right hand, and gives you her left. She then places one of her feet in your left hand, which you stoop to receive, when, by a simultaneous exertion and spring, she is vaulted backwards into the saddle. Whether I PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 37 Ihu be a transmitted Spanish custom, I know not, but I havo not observed it in the French, or American settlements west of the Allcghanies. The earth(|iinlce8 of 1812, which were so disastrous in South America, are known to have propagated themselves towards the north, and they ex- erted some striking effects in the lower part of the valley of the Missis- sippi, sendini^r down into the channel of the latter, large areas of deluvial ea.th, as was ir-^tanced, in a remarkable manner, at New Madrid. Por- tions of the furi'St, back of this town, sunk, and gave place to lakes and lagoons. These effects were also witnessed, though in a milder form, in the more solid formations of the mine country. Soon oAer reaching Potosi, I visited the Mineral Fork, a tributary of the Merrimack, where some of these effects had been witnesscil. I descended into the pit and crevices of the Old Mines. These mines were explored in the metallifer- ous rock. Every thing had an old and ruinou.s look, for they had been abandoned. Large quantities of the ore hud been formerly raised at this mine, which was pursued into a deep fissure of the limestone rock. I de- scended into this fissure, and found among the rubbish ond vein stones, large elongated and orbicular masses of calc spur, the outer surfaces of which bore strong marks of geological abrasion. They broke into rhombs very transparent, and of a honey-yellow colour. Mr. Elliot, the intelli- gent proprietor of this mine, represented the indications of ore to have beeu flattering, although every thing was now at a stand. Masses of sulphiuel of zinc, in the form of blende, were noticed at this locality. Mr. Elliot invited me to dine, and he filled up the time with interesting local remin- iscences. He stated, among other facts, that a copious spring, nt these mines, dried up during the remarkable earthquakes of 1812. These earthquakes appear to have discharged their shocks in the direction of the stratification from the southwest to the northeast, but they spent their force west of the Mississippi. Their chief violence was at Natchitoches and New Madrid, at the latter of which they destro) ed an immense area of alluvial land. Their effects in the Ohio valley, lying exactly in the direc- tion of their action, were slight. A Mr. Watkins, of Cincinnati, occom- panied me on this examination, and rode back with me to Potosi. On the 9th of August, I had dined with Samuel Perry, Esq., at Mine a Burton, one of the principal inhabitants of the county, and was passing the evening at Mr. Austin's, when Mr. and Mrs. Perry came suddenly in. They had hardly taken seats, when a rabble of persons with bells and horns sur^-ounded the house, and kept up a tumult that would have done honor to one of the wildest festivals of Sl Nicholas, headed by Brom Bones himself. This, we were told, was a Chlra 'iri. And what is a Chiraviri? I am not deep enough read in French local customs to give a satisfactory answer, but the custom is said to be one that the populace may indulge in, whenever a marriage has taken place in the village, which is not in exact accordance with their opinions o ' its propriety. I was, by this incident, in- 38 I'KIISOXAL RliailNlSCENCES. formed of Mr. Perry's recent marriage, and should judge, moieovcr, that he had exercised both taste and judgment in his selection of a partner. The afiair of the Chiraviri is said to have been got up by some spiteful persons. Towards the middle of the month (12th,) I set out, accompanied by Mr. James B. Austin, on horseback, for Herculaneum, by the way of Hazel Run, a route displaying a mor > southerly section of the mine country than I had before seen. A ride on horseback over the mine hills, offers one of the most delightful prospects of picturesque sylvan beauty that can be well conceived of The hills are, with a few exceptions, not precipitous enough to make the ride irksome. They rise in long and gentle swells, resembling those of the sea, in which the vessel is, by an easy motion, al- ternately ui the top of liquid hills, or in the bottom of liquid vales. From these hills the prospect extends over a surface of heath-grass and prairie flowers, with an open growth of oaks, giving the whole country rather the aspect of a park than a wilderness. Occasionally a ridge of pine intervenes, and wherever there is a brook, the waters present the trans- parency of rock crystal. Sometimes a range of red clay hillocks, put- ting up rank shrubs and vines of species which were unhiawn before, indicates an abandoned digging or mine. Farms and farm houses were then few j and every traveller we met on horseback, had more or less the bearing of a country cavalier, with a fine horse, good equipments, per- haps holsters and pistols, sometimes a rifle, and always something of a military air, betokening manliness and independence. Wherever we stopped, and whoever we met on the way, there was evinced a courteous and hospitable disposition. We did not leave Poto i till afternoon. It was a hot August day, and it was dusk before we entered the deep shady valley of Big River. Some delay arose in waiting for the ferryman to put us across the river, and it was nine o'clock in the evening when we reached Mr. Bryant's, at Hazel Run, where we were cordially received. Our host would not let us leave his house, next morning, till after breakfast. We rode to McCormick's, on the Platten, to dinner, and reached Herculaneum before sunset. The distance by this route from Potosi is forty-five miles, and the road, with the exception of a couple of miles, presented a wholly new section of the country. The Mississippi was now low, displaying large portions of its margin, and exhibiting heavy deposits of mud and slime, which broke into cakes, as they dried in the sun. I know not whether these exhalations affected me, but I experienced a temporary illness for a few days during this visit. I recollect that v/e had, during this time, some severe and drenching rain storms, with vivid and copious lightning, and heavy pealing thunder. These drenching and rapid showers convert the brooks and rills of the mine country to perfect torrents, and this explains one cause of the wash* PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 39 ;the gin. Ices, ;ted isit. the ish- ing away and gullying of roads and streets, so remarkable on the west bank of the Mississippi. My illness induced me to give up returning on horseback ; and I set out, on the 1 8th of the month, in a dearborn, accom- panied by Mrs. Austin. On descending the long hill, near Donnell's, be- yond the Joachim, the evening was so dark that I became sensible I must have got out of the road. I drove with the more care a few moments, and stopped. Requesting Mrs. Austin to hold the reins, I jumped out and explored the ground. I found myself in an abandoned, badly gullied track, which would have soon capsized the wagon ; but leading the horse by the bridle, I slowly regained my position in the direct road and got down the hill, and reached the house without further accident. Next day we drove into Potosi hy four o'clock in the afternoon. This was my second visit, and 1 now accepted a room and quarters for my collection, at their old homestead called Durham Hall. From this period till the middle of September, I pursued with unre- mitting assiduity, the enquiry in hand, and by that time had made a cabi- net collection, illustrating fully the mineralogy, and, to some extent, the geo- logical structure of the country. I erected a small chemical furnace for assays. Some of the clays of the country were found to stand a high heat, and by tempering them with pulverized granite, consisting largely of feldspar, I oDiauied crucibles that answered every purpose. Some of the specimens of lend treated in the dry way, yielded from 75 to 82 pel trni. r»o.MiiHnt TtiTP'^' ;i, ^;,y way, on the 25th of August, a fact which led to me discovery of a primitive tract, on the southern borders of the mine country, the true geological relation of which to the surrounding second- ary formations, formed at the outset rather a puzzle. I rode out on horse- back on that day, with Mr. Stephen F. Austin, to Miller's, on the Mineral Fork, to observe a locality of manganese, and saw lying, near his mills, some large masses of red syenitic granite, which appeared to have been freshly blasted. He remarked that they were obtained on the St. Francis, and were found to be the best material at hand for millstones. On exami- nation, the rock consisted almost exclusively of red feldspar and quartz. A little hornblend'^ was present, but scarcely a trace of mica. This species of syenitic granite, large portions of which, viewed in the field, are complete syenite, and all of which is very barren of crystals, I have smce found on the upper Mississippi, and throughout the northwestern regions above the secondary latitudes. The hint, however, was not lost. I took the first opportunity to visit the sources of the St. Francis : having obtained letters to a gentleman in that vicinity, I set out on horseback for that region, taking a stout pair of saddle-bags, to hold my collections. I passed through Murphy's and Cook's settlements, which are, at the present time, the central parts of St. Francis county. Mine a la Motte ufibrde'l some new facts in its mineralogical features. I first saw this red 40 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. syenite, in place, on Blackford's Fork. The westernmost limits of this ancient mine extends to within a mile or two of this primitive formation. The red clay formation extends to the granitic elevations, and conceals their junction with the newer rock. The nearest of the carboniferous series, in place, is on the banks of Rock Creek, at some miles' distance. It is there the crystalline sandstone. How far this primitive district of the St. Francis extends, has not been determined. The St. Francis and Grand rivers, both have their sources in it. It is probable the Ozaw Fork of the Merrimack comes from its western borders. Not lees than twenty or thirty miles can be assigned for its north and south limits. The Iron mountain of Bellvieu is within it. The vicinity of the pass called the Narrows, appears to have been the locality of former volcanic action. A scene of ruder disruption, marked by the vast accumulation of broken rock, it would be difficult to find. Indeed the whole tract is one of high geological, as well as scenic interest. Had the observer of this scene been suddenly dropped down into one of the wildest, broken, primitive tracts of New England, or the north east angle of New York, he could not have found a field of higher physical attractions. Trap and green- stone constitute prominent tracts, and exist in the condition of dykes in the syenite, or feldspathique granite. I sought in vain for mica in the form of distinct plates. Some of the greenstone is handsomely porpho- rytic, and embraces green crystals of feldspar. Portions of this rock art sprinkled with masses of bright sulphuret of iron. Indeed iron in several of its forms abounds. By far the largest portion of it is in the shape of the micaceous oxyde. I searched, without success, for the irridescen specular variety, or Elba ore. In returning from this trip, I found Wolf river greatly swollen by rains, and had to swim it at much hazard, with my saddle-bags heavily laden with the results of my examination. It was dark when I reached the opposite bank : wet and tired I pushed for the only house in sight As I came to it the doors stood open, the fences were down, a perfect air of desolation reigned around. There was no living being found ; and the masses of yawning darkness exhibited by the untenanted rooms, seemed a fit residence for the genius of romance. Neither ny horse nor myself were, however, in a temper or plight for an adventure of this kind, and the poor beast seemed as well pleased as I was, to push forward from so cheerless a spot. Four miles' riding through an untenanted forest, and a dark and blind road, brought us to a Mr. Murphy s, the spons:ir of Murphy's «ettlement. SCENES AND ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. A. D. 1818 AND 1819. FROM THE OKIOIN'AL NOTES AND JOURNAL. no by I igh PRELIMINARY REMARKS. Very little, it is conceived, is necessary to enable the reader to determine thj writer's position on the extreme south western frontiers, in the year IS18. He had spent the summer of that year in traversing the mine dis- trict, which extends along the right bank of the Mississippi, between the mcnth of the Maromeg and the diluvial clifls south of Cape Girardeau, extendinff west and south westward to the sources of the St. Francis. In these mineralogical rambles, which were pursued sometimes on foot, and sometimes on horseback, or wheels, he made acquaintance with many estimable men, amongst whom he may name the Austins, father and son, the late Col. Ashley, John Rice Jones, Esq., and many others who are etill living, by all whom, his object in visiting the country was cordially approved and encouraged, at all time.s. He also became acquainted with practical miners, and persons of enterprize who were not only familiar with the settled frontiers, but who had occasionally penetrated beyond them, into the broad expanse of highlands, now geographically known under the term of, the Ozark Chain. Geologically considered, the mine country is but the eastern flanks of this chain, which e.xtends flush to the banks of the Mississippi, and has its terminus in that elevated range of mural cliffs, which form so striking and often picturesque a display, be- tween St. Genevieve and St. Louis. There was, at the time, a general apprehension felt and expressed, by hunters and others who had pene- trated those. wilds in quest of deer and buffiilo, or of saltpetre-earth in the limestone caves, of the predatory tribe of theOsages. — a people who had for years enjoyed the bad reputation of being thieves and plunderers. All concurred, however, in the interesting character of the country extending in a general course, south-westwardly, from the junction of the Missouri with the Mississippi. He felt an ardent desire to penetrate this terra incognita. He could not learn that any exploratory journey had been made towards the Rocky Mountains, since the well known expeditions of Lewis and Clark, up the Missouri, and of Lieut. Pike, across the upper region of the Arkansas, to Sante Fe and Chihuahua. Breckenridge had 41 42 ADVENTURES IN THE OZAUK MOUNTAINS. subsequently published an account of a trip to Council Bluffs.* But nei- ther of these routes crossed the wide and mountanious tracts referred to, or gave any definite information respecting them. Viewed on the map, these routes formed the general exterior outlines, but they left the interior filling up to be supplied, — or, if supplied at all, it was too often with such vague phrases as these — " Here are salt mountains." " The is supposed to take its rise here." " Volcanic hills," and so forth. The geology of the country furnished no indications whatever of the probability of the latter remark. The kind of pseudo-pumice found floating down the Missouri, in high water, had been stated by Lewis and Clarke, to have a far more ren.ote. and local origin. The description of rock salt, in mountain mass, had long been numbered by popular belief, among the fanciful creations of an exciting political era ; and together with vi^estern volcanoes, had settled down among those antiquarian rumours, which hold up, as their prime item, the existence of the living mammoth " beyond the big lakes." If the writer of the notes and journal which furnish these sketches, was not swayed by any particular theories of this nature, yet was he not free from the expectation of finding abundant materials, in the natural pro- ductions and scenery and incidents of the journey, to reward him amply for its perils. He had received from hunters several objects of the minerological and geological collection which he made, while living at Potosi, and Mine a Burton: from these wild borders, and, without pretending to estimate the force of each parti, ular object which made up the sum of his motives, he resolved to organize an expedition, with all Jie means he could muster, and explore the region. The Austins, vyho had treated him with marked kindness and attention, from the hour nf hip fim iunaiiin ;ii ,Viis5()(ir«, were then preparing ' »i.-»ki- '.hor first movr>nirint into Tcxiis, and neld out to him a fine thei..*,. ior cnierprise; but it was one not suited to his particular means or taste. He recoiled from the subtlety of the Spanish character ; and is free to confess, that he deemed it a far more attractive latitude for the zea maize and the cotton plant, than for those pursuits which led him to prefer the more rugged eminences of the Ozarks. They, in the end, founded a republic, and he only made an adventurous journey. Having thus recalled the era and the motive of the following sketches, the purport of these remarks is accomplished. New York, 1844. • • The United States government, the ve'y next year, 18'9, Bent out Col. Long to the VaUaw Stone. ADVENTURES IX THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 43 CHAPTER I. Things to be thought of before plungbg into the woods — Composition of the party, and reasons why it was not more numerous — First night's encampment — Preliminaries — Sleep in a deserted Indian lodge — A singular variety of the Fox Squirrel — The Pack Horse escapes — Cross the elevation called the Pinery — Reach the outskirts of the settlements in the valley of the Fourche A'Courtois. Whoever would venture into the wilderness, should provide himself with such articles of personal comfort or safety, as habits, forecast, or the particular object of pursuit or observation, require. Every one will think of arms and ammunition, but there are other things required to make life pleasant, or even tolerable in the woods. This, prior excursions had already taught me, but the lesson was repeated by those of greater expe- rience. There were two persons who had agreed to go with me, and stick by me, to the end, — the one a native of Massachussets, and the other, of Connecticut, both like myself, new in the field, and unacquainted with life in the woods. What they lacked in this art, they more than made up, I thought, in intelligence, enterprise and resource. The name of the first was Brigham. The other, I shall allude to, under the name of Enobitti. Some three or four other persons, natives of the region, had consented to go as hunters, or adventurers into a new field for emigration, but it so happened, that when all was ready — when every objection to the tour had been obviated, and every want supplied, and when my two eastern friends came on to the ground, these persons all quietly, and with an easy flow of reasons, backed out. In fact, my friend Brigham, was also obliged to relinquish, the journey, after he had reached the point of rendezvous, i. e. Potosi. A residence on the American bottom, in Illinois, the prior sum- mer, had exposed him to the malaria of that otherwise attractive agricul- tural area, and an intermittent fever, which he had thus contracted, forbade his venturing beyond the settlements. So that when the appointed day arrived, Enobitti and myself and my good landlord, Ficklin — a warm hearted Kentuckian, who had been a hunter and border spy in his youth, were all the persons I could number, and the latter, only went a short dis- tance, out of the goodness of his heart, and love of forest adventure, to set us, as it were, ori the way, and initiate us into some necessary forest arts. It was a bright balmy day, — the 6th of November, 1818. The leaves were rapidly falling from the trees, and strewed the road and made n musical rustling among the branches, as we passed the summits of the mine hills, which separated the valley of Mine d Burton from the next adjoining stream. The air had just enough of the autumn freshness in it, to make it inspiring ; and we walked forward, with the double animation of health 44 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS and hope. As we passed through forests where the hickory abounded, the ibx and grey squirrel were frequently seen preparing their winter's stores, and gave additional animation to the scene. It was early in the afternoon when we came into the valley of Bates' Creek — it was indeed but a few miles from our starting point, where our kind Mentor told us, it was best to encamp ; for, in the first place, it was the only spot where we could obtain water for a long distance, and secondly, and more important than all, it was necessary that we should re-arrange the load of our pack- horse, take a lesson in the art of encamping, and make some other prepa- rations which were proper, before we plunged outright into the wilderness. This was excellent advice, and proper not only to novices, but even to the initiated in the woodsman's art. It is always an object, to make, by this initiatory movement, what is technically called a start. I had purchased at Potosi, a horse — a low priced animal, rather old and bony, to carry our blankets, some light cooking utensils and a few other articles of necessity, and some provisions. He bore the not very appro- priate name of" Butcher," whether from a former owner, or how acquired I know not, but he was not of a sanguinary temper, or at least, the only fighting propensity he ever evinced was to get back to Potosi, as quick as possible, for he ran off the very first night, and frequently, till we got quite far west, repeated the attempt. The poor beast soemed to know, irocmc- tively, that he was going away from the land of corn fodder, and weald have to sustain himself by picking up his meals out of sere-grass, often in stony pkices, or in some dense and vine-bound cane bottom, where his hind legs would often be bound fast by the green briai, while he reached for ward in vain, to bite off a green leaf. Here we took the first lesson in duly hobbling a horse — a very neces- sary lesson : for if not hobbled, he will stray away, and cause great deten- tion in the morning, and if not well hobbled he will injre his legs. We found, near the banks of the stream, a deserted Indian lodge, which ap- peared susceptible, by a little effort, of affording us a very comfortable night's lodging, and would furthermore, should it rain, prove an effectual shelter. This arrangement we immediately set about : the horse was un- packed, his burden stowed in the lodge, the horse hobbled and belled, and a fire lit. While my companion arranged the details of the camp, and prepared to boil a cup of tea, I took my gun, and, with but little ado, shot a number of fine fox and grey squirrels — beingthe first fruits of our exertions in the chace. Among them, there was one of decidedly mongrel species. If not, the variety was peculiar. He had a grey body, and a red foxy tail, with the belly, nose, and tips of the cars black, thus uniting charac- terestics of three varieties. One or two of these were added to our supper, which we made with great satisfaction, and in due time spread out our blankets, and slept soundly till day break. On sallying out, I found the horse was gone, and set out in pursuit of ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 45 » i him. Although his fore feet were tethered, so that he must lift up both together, he made his way back, in this jumping manner, to his former owner's door, in the village of Mine Si Burton. He had not, however, kept the path, all the way, and losing his track after he got on the herbage, my ear caught the sound of a bell far to the left, which I took to be his, and followed. I pursued the sound of this bell, which was only heard now and then, till afler crossing hill and dale, without deviation from the line of sound, I came out at a farm yard, four miles below Potosi ; where I found the bell to be attached to the neck of a stately penned ox. The owmer, (who knew me and the circumstance of my having set out on the expedition,) told me, that Butcher had reached the mines, and been sent back, by a son of his former owner, to my camp. I had nothing left, but to retrace my way to the same spot, where I found the fugitivs, and sat down to a breakfast of tea, bread, ham and squirrel. The whole morning had been lost by this misadventure. It was ten o'clock before we got the animal packed and set forward. Our second day's journey yielded but little to remark. We travelled diligently along a rough mountainous path, across a sterile tract called the Pinery. This tract is valuable only for its pine timber. It has neither farming land nor mineral wealth. Not a habitation of any kind was passed. We saw neither bird nor animal. The silence of desolation seemed to accompany us. It was a positive relief to the uniform sterility of the soil, and monotony of the prospect, to see at length, a valley before us. It was a branch of the Maromeg, or Merrimack, which is called by its original French term of Fourche a Courtois. We had travelled a dis- tance of fourteen miles over these flinty eminences. The first signs of human habitation appeared in the form of enclosed fields. The sun sunk below the hills, as we entered this valley, and we soon had the glimpse of a dwelling. Some woodcock flew up as we hastened forward, and we were not long in waiting for our formal announcement in the loud and long continued barking of dogs. It required the stern commands of their master, before they slunk back and became quiet. It was a small log tenement of the usual construction on the frontiers, and afibrded us the usual hospitality and ready accommodation. They gave us warm cakes of corn bread, and fine rich milk. We spread our blankets before an evening's fire, and enjoyed a good night's rest. Butcher here, I think, had his )ast meal of corn, and maue no attempt to return. With the earliest streaks of day light, we re-adjusted his pack, and igain set forward. 40 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. CHAPTER II. Roach a hunter's cabin on the outskirts of the wilderness — He agrees to accompany us Enter the Ozark Hills — lliicoiuiter an encampment of the Delaware IndiantK^ Character of the country — Its alpine air, and the purity of its waters. — Ascend to the source of the Merrimack— Reach a game country — Deserted by the hunter and guide, and abandoned to individual exertioro in these arts. Every joint labour, which proceeds on the theory, that each person en- gjiged in it is to render some personal service, must, in order that it may go on pleasantly and succeed well, have a definite order, or rule of pro- gress ; and this is as requisite in a journey in the wilderness as any where else. Our rule was to lead the pack horse, and to take the compass and guide ahead, alternately, day by day. It was thought, I had the best art in striking and making a fire, and when we halted for the night, always did this, while my companion procured water and put it in a way to boil for tea. We carried tea, as being lighter and more easy to make than coffee. In this way we divided, as equally as possible, the daily routine of duties, and went on pleasantly. We had now reached the last settlement on the frontier, and after a couple of hours' walk, from our last place of lodging, we reached the last house, on the outer verge of the wilderness. It was a small, newly erected log hut, occupied by a hunter of the name of Ro- berts, and distant about 20 miles from, and south-west of Potosi. Our ap- proach here was also heralded by dogs. Had we been wolves or pan- thers, creeping upon the premises at midnight, they could not have performed their duty more noisily. Truly this was a very primitive dwelling, and as recent in its structure as it was primitive. Large fallen trees lay about, just as the axeman had felled them, and partly consumed by fire. The effect of this partial burning had been only to render these huge trunks black and hideous. One of them lay in front of the cottage. In other places were to bo seen deer skins stretched to dry ; and deers' feet and antlers lay here and there. There was not a foot of land in cultivation. It was quite evident at first sight, that we had reached the dwelling of a border hunter, and not a tiller of the ground. But the owner was absent, as we learned from his wife, a spare, shrewd dark-skinned little woman, drest in buckskin, who issued from the dooi before we reached it, and welcomed us by the term of " Strangers." Al though this is a western term, which supplies the place of the word '• friend," in other sections of the union, and she herself seemed to bo thoroughly a native of these latitudes, no Yankee could have been more inquisitive, in one particular department of enquiry, namely the de- partment relative to the chace. She inquired our object — the course and distance we proposed tf travel, and the general arrangements of horse- ADVENTUEES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 47 I d gear, equipage, &c. She told us of the danger of encountering the Osages, and scrutinized our arms. Such on examination would indeed, for its thoroughness, have put a lad to his trumps, who had come prepared for his first quarter's examination at a country academy. She told us, con amore, that her husband would be back soon, — as soon indeed as we could get our breakfast, and that ho would be glad to accompany us, as far as Ashley's Cave, or perhaps farther. This was an opportunity not to be slighted. We agreed to wait, and prepare our mornmga meal, to which she contributed some well baked corn cakes. By this time, and before indeed we had been long there, Roberts came in. It is said that a hunter's life is a life of feasting or fasting. It appeared to be one of the latter seasons, with him. He had been out to scour the precincts, for a meat breakfast, but came home empty handed. He was desirous to go out in the direction we were steering, which he represented to abound in game, but feared to venture far alone, on account of the ras- cally Osages. He did not fear the Delawares, who were near by. He readily accepted our offer to accompany us as hunter. Roberts, like his forest help-mate, was clothed in deer skin. He was a rathjr chunky, stout, middle sized man, with a ruddy face, cunning features, and a bright unsteady eye. Such a fellow's final destination would not be a very equivocal matter, were he a resident of the broad neighbourhood of Sing Sing, or "sweet Auburn:" but here, he was a man that might, perhaps, be trusted on an occasion like this, and we, at any rate, were glad to have his services on the terms stipulated. Even while we were talk- in^he began to clean his rifle, and adjust his leathern accoutrements : he then put several large cakes of corn bread in a sack, and in a very short time he brought a stout little horse out of a log pen, which served for a barn ; and clapping an old saddle on his back and mounting him, with his rifle in one hand, said, " I am ready," and led off. We now had a guide, as well as a hunter, and threw this burden wholly on him. Our course lay up a long ridge of hard bound clay and chert soil, in the direction of the sources of the Marameg, or, as it is now uni- versally called and written, Merrimc.ck. After travelling about four miles we suddenly descended from an acclivity into a grassy, woodless valley, with a brisk clear stream winding through it, and several lodges of Indians planted on its borders. This, our guide told us, was the Ozaw Fork of the Merrimack, (in modern geographical parlance Ozark.) And here we found the descendants and remainder of that once powerful tribe of whom William Penn purchased the site of Philadelphia, aind whose ancient dominion extended, at the earliest certain historical era along th6 banks the Lennapihittuck, or Delaware river. Two of them were at home, it being a season of the year, and time of day, when the men are out hunting. Judging from peculiarity of features, manners and dress, it would seem to be impossible that any people, should have re- l:i : 48 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. mained so long in contact with or juxtaposition to the European racei and changed so little, in all that constitutes nationtl and personal identity. Roberta looked with no very friendly eye upon these ancient lords of the forest, the whole sum of his philosophy and philanthropy being measured by the very tangible circle of prairie and forests, which narrowed his own hunting grounds. They were even then, deemed to have been injudici- ously located, by intelligent persons in the west, and have long since re- moved to a permanent location, out of the corporate limits of the States and Territories, at the junction of the river Konga with the Missouri. 1 should have been pleased to have lengthened our short halt, but the word seemed with him and Encjitti to be '• onward," and onward we pushed. We were now fairly in the Ozark chain — a wide and almost illitnitable tract, of which it may be said, that the vallies only are susceptible of fu- ture cuhivation. The intervening ridges and mountains are nearly desti tute of forest, often perfectly so, and in almost all cases, sterile, and unfit for the plough. It is probable shee,") might be raised on some of these eminences, which possess a sufHciency of soil to permit the grasses to be sown. Geologically, it has a basis of limestones, resting on sandstones. Unfortunately for its agricultural character, the surface has been co- vered with a foreign diluvium of red clay filled with chips of horstone, chert and broken quartz, which make the soil hard and compact. Its trees are few and stunted ; its grass coarse. In looking for the origin of such a soil, it seems probable to have resulted from broken down slates and shists on the upper Missouri and below the range of the Rocky Mountains, in which these broken and imbedded substances originally constituted veins. It is only in the vallies, and occasional plains, that a richer and more carbo- naceous soil has accumulated. The purest springs, however, gush out of its hills ; its atn^osphere is fine and healthful, and it constitutes a theatre of Alpine attractions, which will probably render it, in future years, th« resort of shepherds, lovers of mountain scenery, and valetudinarians There is another remark to be made of the highland tracts of the Ozark range. They look, in their natural state, more sterile than they actuallj are, from the effects of autumnal fires. These fires, continued for ages b) the natives, to clear the ground for hunting, have had the effect not only to curtail and destroy large vegetation, but all the carbonaceous particles ol the top soil have been burned, leaving the surface in the autumn, rough, red, dry and hard. When a plough comes to be put into such a siuface, it throws up quite a different soil; and the effects of light, and the sun's heat are often found, as I have noticed in other parts of the west, to pro- duce a dark and comparatively rich soil. We occupied the entire day in ascending and crossing the ridge of land, which divides the little valley of the Oza from that of the Merrimack. When getting near the latter, the soil exhibited traces of what appeared to be iron ore, but somewhat peculiar in its character, and of dark hue. y ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 49 This 80on revealed itself, in passing a short distance, in an abundant lo- cality of black and coloured oxide of manganese — lying in masses in the arid soil. The Indian trail which we were pursuing led across the val- ley. We forded the river on foot. No encampments of Indians were found, nor any very recent traces of them; and we began to think that the accounts of Osage depredations and plundering, must be rather exag- gerated. The river pours its transparent mountain waters over a wide bed of pebbles and small boulders, and, at this season, oflfered but little im- pediment to the horses or ourselves in crossing it. The sun was getting low, by the time we reached the opposite side of the valley, and we en- camped on its borders, a mile or two above. Here we took due care of our horses, prepared our evening's meal, talked over the day's adven- tures, enjoyed ourselves sitting before our camp fire, with the wild wide creation before us and around, and then sank to a sound repose on our pallets. Novices in the woodman's art, and raw in the business of travelling, our sleep was sounder and more death-like, than that of Roberts. His eye had shown a restlessness during the afternoon and evening. We were now in a game country, the deer and elk began to be frequently seen, and their fresh tracks across our path, denoted their abundance. During tlie night they ventured about our camp, so as to disturb the ears of the weary hunter, and indeed, my own. He got up and found both horses m^^sing. Butcher's memory of Mine d Burton corn fodder had not deserted him, and he took the hunter's horse along with him. I jumped up, and accompanied him, in their pursuit. They were both overtaken about three miles back on the track, making all possible speed homeward, that their tethered fore legs would permit. We conducted them back, without disturbing my companion, and he then went out with his rifle, and quickly brought in a fine fat doe, for our breakfast. Each one cut fine pieces of steaks, and roasted for himself! We ate it with a little salt, and the remainder of the hunter's corn cakes, and finished the repast, with a pint cup each, of Enobitti's best tea. This turned out to be a finale meal with our Fourche a Courtois man, Roberts: for the rascal, a few hours afterwards, deserted us, and went back. Had he given any intima- tion of dissatisfaction, or a desire to return, we should have been in a measure prepared for it. It is probable his fears of the then prevalent bug- bear of those frontiersmen, the Osages, were greater than our own. It is also probable, that he had no other idea whatever, in leaving the Fourcho h, Courtois, than to a\ail himself of our protection till he could get into a region where he could shoot deer enough in a single morning to load down his horse, with the choicest pieces, and lead him home. This the event, at least, rendered probable ; and the fellow not only deserted us meanly, but he carried ofl .ny best new hunting knife, with scabbard and belt — a loss not easily repaired in such a place. 4 80 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. To cloak his plan, he set out with us in the morning: it hod rained a little, during the latter part of the night, and was lowering and dark all the morning. AAer travelling about ten miles, we leA the Osage trail, which began to bear too far north-west, and struck through the woods in a south course, with the view of reaching Ashley's Cave on one of the head streams of the river currents. Soon after leaving this trail, Roberts, who was in advance on our left, about half a mile, fired at, and killed, a deer, and immediately re-loaded, pursued and fired again ; telling us to continue on our course, as he, being on horseback, could easily overtake us. We neither heard nor saw more of him. Night overtook us near the banks of a small lake, or rather a series of little lakes or ponds, communicating with each other, where we encamped. After despatching our supper, and adjusting, in talk, the day's rather eventful incidents, and the morrow's plan of march, we committed ourselves to rest, but had not sunk into forgetful- ness, when a pack of wolves set up their howl in our vicinity. We had been told that these animals will not approach near a fire, and are not t(^ be dreaded in a country where deer abound. They follow the track of the hunter, to share such part of the carcass as he leaves, and it is their nature to herd together and run down this animal as their natural prey. We slept well, but it is worthy of notice, that on awaking about day break, the howling of the wolves was still heard, and at about the same distance. They had probably serenaded us all night. Our fire was nearly out ; wo felt some chilliness, and determined to rekindle it, and prepare our breakfast before setting forward. It was now certain, that Roberts was gone. Luckily he had not carried off our compass, for that would have been aa accident fatal to the enterprise. I CHAPTER III. A deeper view of the Ozark Chain. Pass along the flanks of the highlands whksh ■end out the sources of the Black, Eleven points, Currents and Spring rivers. Reach 8 romantic glen of caves. Birds and animals seen. Saltpetre earth ; stalactitea. Cross the alpine summit of the western Ozarka. Source of the Gasconde river Accident in fording the Little Osage river. — Encamp on one of its tributaries. It was found, as we began to bestir ourselves for wood to light our fire that we had reposed not far from a bevy of wild ducks, who had sought the grassy edge of the lake during the night, and with the first alarm be- took themselves to flight. With not so ready a mode of locomotion, we followed their example, in due time, and also their course, which was south. At the distance of a couple of miles, we crossed a small stream^ running south-east, which we judged to be the outlet of the small lakes referred to, and which is, probably the source of Black River, or the Eleven points. Our course led us in an opposite direction, and we soon found ourselves approaching the sterile hills which bound the romantic valley of the currents. There had been some traces of wheels, on the softer soil, which had been driven in this direction towards the saltpetre caves, but we completely lost them, as we came to and ascended these arid and rugged steeps. Some of these steeps rose into dizzy and romantic cliffs, surmounted with pines. We wound our way cautiously amongst them, to find some gorge and depression, through which we might enter the valley. For ourselves we should not have been so choice of a path, but we had a pack horse to lead, and should he be precipitated into a gulf, we must bid adieu to our camp equipage. Our arms and a single blanket, would be all we could carry. At length this summit was reached. The view was enchanting. A winding wooded valley, with its clear bright river, stretched along at the base of the summit. Rich masses of foliage, hung over the clear stream, and were reflected in its pellucid current, with a double beauty. The autumnal frost, which had rifled the highland trees of their clothing, appeared to have passed over this deeply secluded valley 61 52 ADVENTURES IN THE OZAHK MOUNTAINS. with but little effect, and this effect, was only to highten the interest of the scene, by imparting to portions of its foliage, the liveliest orange and crim- son tints. And this was rendered doubly attractive by the contrast. Be- hind us lay the bleak and barren hills, over which we had struggled, without a shade, or a brook, or even the simplest representative of the ani- mal creation. For it is a truth, that during the heat of the day, both birds and quadrupeds betake themselves to the secluded shades of the streams and vallies. From these they sally out, into the plains, in quest of food at early dawn, and again just before night fall. All the rest of the day, the plains and highlands have assumed the silence of desolation. Even- ing began to approach as we cautiously picked our way down the cliffs, and the first thing we did, on reaching the stream was to take a hearty drink of its crystal treasure, and let our horse do the same. The next ob- ject was to seek a fording place — which was effected without difficulty. On mounting the southern bank, we again found the trail, lost in the morning, and pursued it with alacrity. It was my turn this day to be in advance, as guide, but the temptation of small game, as we went up the valley, drew me aside, while Enobitti proceeded to select a suitable spot for the night's encampment. It was dark when I rejoined him, with my squirrel and pigeon hunt. He had confined himself closely to the trail. It soon led him out of the valley, up a long brushy ridge, and then through an open elevated pine grove, which terminated abruptly in a per- pendicular precipice. Separated from this, at some eight hundred yards distance, stood a counter precipice of limestone rock, fretted out, into pin- nacles and massy walls, with dark openings, which gave the whole the resemblance of architectural ruins. The stream that ran between these cliffs, was small, and it lay so deep and well embrowned in the shades of evening, that it presented vividly from this elevation, a waving bright line on a dark surface. Into this deep dark terrific glen the path led, and here we lit our fire, hastily constructed a bush camp, and betook ourselves, after due ablutions in the little stream, to a night's repose. The sky be- came rapidly overcast, before we had finished our meal, and a night of intense darkness, threatening a tempest, set in. As we sat by our fire, its glare upon huge beetling points of overhanging rocks, gave the scene a wild and picturesque cast ; and we anticipated returning daylight with an anxious wish to know and see our exact locality. By the restless tramp- ing of our horse, and the tinkling of his bell, we knew that he had found but indifferent picking. Daylight fulfilled the predictions of the evening. We had rain. It also revealed our position in this narrow, and romantic glen. A high wall of rocks, encompassed us on either hand, but they were not such as would have resulted in a volcanic country from a valley fissure. Narrow and deep as the glen was, it was at once apparent, that it was a valley of de- nudation, and had owed its existence to the wasting effects of the trifling ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 53 Stream within it, carrying away, particle by particle, the matter loosened by rains and frosts, and mechanical attrition. The cliffs are exclusively calcareous, and piled up, mason like, in horizontal layers. One of the most striking pictures which they presented, was found in the great num- ber, size and variety of caves, which opened into this calcareous formation. These caves are of all sizes, some of them very large, and not a few of them situated at elevations above the floor of the glen, which forbade ac- cess. One of our first objects, after examining the neighbourhood, was to re- move our baggage and location up the glen, into one of these caves, which at the distance of about a mile, promised us an effectual shelter from the inclemency of the storm. This done, we determined here to wait for settled weather, and explore the precincts. By far the most prominent object, among the caverns, was the one into which we had thus uncere- moniously thrust ourselves. It had evidently been visited before, by per sons in search of saltpetre earth. Efflorescences of nitric earth, were abundant in its fissures, and this salt was also present in masses of reddish diluvial earth, which lay in several places. The mouth of this cave pre- sented a rude irregular arc, of which the extreme height was probably thirty feet, and the base line ninety. The floor of this orifice occurs, at an elevation of about forty feet above the stream. And this size is held for about two hundred feet, when it expands into a lofty dome, some eighty or ninety feet high, and perhaps, three hundred in diameter. In its centre a fine spring of water issues from the rock. From this dome several pas- sages lead oflfin different directions. One of these opens into the glen, at an inaccessible point, just below. Another runs back nearly at right angles with the mouth, putting out smaller passages, of not much importance, however, in its progress. So splendid and noble an entrance gave us the highest hopes of finding it but the vestibule of a natural labyrinth ; but the resuU disappointed us. These ample dimensions soon contract, and after following the main or south passage about five hundred yards, we found our further entrance barred, by masses of fallen rock, at the foot of which a small stream trickled through the broken fragments, and found its way to the mouth. Have we good reason to attribute to this small stream, a power sufficient to be re- garded as the effective agent in carrying away the calcareous rock, so as to have in a long period produced the orifice? Whence then, it may be asked, the r^asses of compact reddish clay and pebble diluvium, which exist ? These seem rather to denote that these caves were open orifices, during th(? period of oceanic action, upon the surface of the Ozarks, and that a mass of waters, surcharged with such materials, flowed into pre- existing caverns. This diluvium is, in truth, of the same era as the wide spread stream of like kind, which has been deposited over the metalliferous region of Missouri. If these, however, be questions for geological doubt. 54 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. we had lit upon another inquiry, very prominent on our minds in making this exploration, namely, whether there were any wild beasta shehered in its fissures. Satisfied that we were safe on this score, we re- traced our footsteps to our fire, and sallied out to visit other caves. Most of these were at such heights as prevented access to them. In one in- stance, a tree had fallen against the face of the cliff, in such a manner, that by climbing it to its forks, and taking one of the latter, the opening might be reached. Putting a small mineral hammer in my pocket, I as- cended this tree, and found the cave accessible. It yielded some wax- yellow and white translucent stalactites, and also very delicate white crys- tals of nitre. The dimensions of this cave were small, and but little higher than to enable a man to stamd upright. In each of the caves of this glen which I entered, during a halt of several days in this vicinity, I looked closely about for fossil bones, but without success in any instance. The only article of this kind observed was the recent leg and foot bones and vertebra of the bos musarius, which appeared to be an inhabitant of the uppermost fissures in these cal- careous cliffs, but I never saw the living species, although I ranged along their summits and bases, with my gun and hammer, at various hours. Some of the compact lime stone in the bed of the creek exhibited a striped and jaspery texture. The wood-duck and the duck and mallard some- times frequented this secluded strean?, and it was a common resort for the wild turkey, at a certain hour in the evening. This bird seemed at such times to come in thirsty, from its ranges in quest of acorns on the up- lands, and its sole object appeared to be to drink. Sitting in the mouth of our cave, we often had a fine opportunity to see flocks of these noisy and fine birds flying down from the cliffs, and perching on the trees below us. If they came to roost, as well as to slack their thirst, a supposition probable, this was an ill-timed movement, so long as we inhabited the glen, for they only escaped the claw and talons of one enemy, to fall before the fire-lock of the other. This bird, indeed, proved our best resource on the journey, for we travelled with too much noise and want of precaution generally, to kill the deer and elk, which, however, were abundant on the highland plains. We passed three days at the Glen Cave, during which there were se- veral rains ; it stormed one entire day, and we employed the time of this confinement, in preparing for the more intricate and imknown parts of our journey. Hitherto we had pursued for the most of the way, a trail, and v/ere cheered on our way, by sometimes observing traces of human laboui. But, from this point we were to plunge into a perfect wilderness, without a trace or track. We had before us, that portion of the Ozark range, which separates to the right and left, the waters of the Missouri from those of the Mississippi. It was supposed, from the best reports, that by holding south-west, across these eminences, we should strike the valley ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 65 of the White River, which interposed itself between our position there and the Arkansas. To enter upon this tract, with our coippass only as a guide, and with the certainty of finding no nutritious grass for our horse, required that we should lighten and curtail our baggage as much as pos- sible, and put all our effects into the most compact and portable form. And having done this, and the weather proving settled, we followed a short distance up the Glen of Caves ; but finding it to lead too directly west, we soon left it and mounted the hills which line its southern border. A number of latter valleys, covered with thick brush, made this a labour by no means slight. The surface was rough j vegetation sere and dry, and every thicket which spread before us, presented an obstacle which was to be overcome. We could have penetrated many of these, which the horse could not be forced through. Such parts of our clothing as did not consist 'of buckskin, paid frequent tribute to these brambles. At length we got clear of these spurs, and entered on a high waving table land where travelling became comparatively easy. The first view of this vista of nigh land plains was magnificent. It was covered wjth moderate sized sere grass and dry seed pods, which rustled as we passed. There was scarcely an object deserving the name of a tree, except, now and then, a 3^'-' ary trunk of a dead pine, or oak, which had been scathed by light- ."it: The bleached skull of the buffalo, was sometimes met, and proved t\ : i animal had once existed here. Rarely we passed a stunted oak; sometimes a cluster of saplings crowned the summit of a sloping hill ; the deer often bounded before us ; we sometimes disturbed the hare from its sheltering bush, or put to flight the quail or the prairie hen. There was no prominent feature for the eye to rest upon. The unvaried prospect produced satiety. We felt in a peculiar manner the solitariness of the wilderness. We travelled silently and diligently. It was a dry and thirsty barren. From morning till sun set we did not encounter a drop of water. This became the absorbing object. Hill after hill, and vale after vale were patiently scanned, and diligently footed, without bringing the ex- pected boon. At length v.'e came, without the expectation of it, to a small running stream in the plain, where we gladly encamped. There was also some grass which preserved a greenish hue, and which enabled our horse also to recruit himself. < Early the next morning' we repacked him, and continued our course, travelling due west south-west. At the distance of five or six miles, we reached the banks of a clear stream of twenty feet wide, running over a bed of pebbles and small secondary boulders. This stream ran towards the north west, and gave us the first intimation we had, that we had crossed the summit and were on the off drain of the Missouri. We sup- posed it to be the source of the Gasconade, or at farthest some eastern tri- butary of the Little Osage. A few hours travelling brought us to the banks of another stream of 56 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. much larger size and depth, but running in the same direction. This stream we found it difficuk to cross, and spent several hours in heaping piles of stone, and connecting them with dry limbs of trees, which had been carried down by floods. It had a rapid and deep current, on each side of which was a wide space of shallow water and rolled bouldors of lime and sand stone. We succeeded in driving the horse safely over. Enobitti led the way on our frail bridge-work, but disturbed the last link of it as he jumped off on the south bank, so that it turned under my tread and let me in. There was no kind of danger in the fall as it was in the shallow part of the stream, but putting out my hands to break the fall, it so happened that my whole weight rested on my gun, which was supported on two stones, merely on its butt and muzzle ; the effect was to wrench the barrel. I gave it a counter wrench as soon as we encamped, but I never afterwards could place full confidence in it. We had not gone over three or four miles beyond this river, when we came to the banks of a third stream, running west, but also sweeping off below, towards the north- west. This stream was smaller than the former and opposed no dif- ficulty in fording it. Having done this we followed it up a short distance^ and encamped on its south bauic*. CHAPTER IV. Hearsay information of the huntere turns out false — ^We alter our course — A bear hunt — An accident — Another rencontre with bears — Strike the source of the Great North Fork of White River — Journey down this valley — Its character and productions — A great Spring — Incidents of the route — Pack horse rolls down a precipice — Plunges in the river — A cavern — Osage lodges — A hunter's hut. It was now manifest, from our crossing the last two streams, that we were going too far north — ^that we were in fact in the valley of the Mis- souri proper ; and that the information obtained of the hunters on the source of the Merrimack, was not to be implicitly relied on. It is not probable that one of the persons who gave this information had ever been here. It was a region they were kept out of by the fear of the Osages, as our own ex- perience in the case of Roberts denoted. Willing to test it farther, how- ever, we followed down the last named stream a few miles, in the hope of its turning south or south-west, but it went off in another direction. We then came to a halt, and after consulting together, steered our course due soiUh south-west, thus varying our general course from the caves. This carried us up a long range of wooded highlands. The forest here as- sumed a handsome growth. We passed through a track of the over-cup oak, interspersed with hickory, and had reached the summit of an elevated wooded ridge, when just as we gained the highest point, we discovered four bears on a large oak, in the valley before us. Three of the number were probably cubs, and with their dam, they were regaling themselves on the ripe acorns without observing us. We had sought no opportunities to hunt, and given up no especial time to it, but here was too fair a chal- lenge to be neglected. We tied our horse securely to a sapling, and then examining our pieces, and putting down an extra ball, set out to descend (he hill as cautiously as possible. An unlucky slip of Enobitti threw him with force forward and sprained his ankle. He lay for a short time in agony. This noise alarmed the bears, who one after the other quickly ran in from the extremities of the I'mbs to the trunk, which they descended 57 58 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. head first, and scampered clumsily off up 'he valley. I pursued tnem without minding my companion, not knowi i-j indeed how badly he was hurt, but was compelled to give up the chase, s the tall grass finally pre- vented my seeing what course they had taken. I now returned to my companion. He could not stand at first, nor walk when he arose, and the first agony had passed. I proposed to moupt him on the pack horse, and lead him slowly up the valley, and this plan was carried into effect. But he endured too much suffering to bear even this. The ankle began to in- flame. There was nothing but rest and continued repose that promised relief. I selected a fine grassy spot to encamp, unpacked the horse, built a fire, and got my patient comfortably stretched on his pallet. But little provision had been made at Potosi in the medical department. My whole store of pharmacy consisted of some pills and salves, and a few simple articles. The only thing I could think of as likely to be serviceable, was in our culinary pack, — it was a little sack of salt, and of this I made a solution in warm water and bathed the ankle. I then replenished the fire and cut some wood to renew it. It was still early in the day, and leaving my companion to rest, and to the effect of the remedy offered, I took my gun and strolled over the adjoining hills, in hopes of bringing in some pigeons, or other small game. But it was a time of day when both birds and quadrupeds have finished their mornings repast, and retired to the groves or fastnesses. I saw nothing but the little grey bunting, and the noisy jay. When I returned to our camp in the vale I found my companion easier. The bathing had sensibly alleviated the pain and swelling. It was therefore diligently renewed, and the next morning he was so far improved, that he consented to try the pack horse again. We had not, however, travelled far, when two large bears were seen before us play- ing in the grass, and so engaged in their sport, that they did not perceive us. We were now on the same level with them, and quickly prepared to give them battle. My companion dismounted as easily as possible, and having secured the horse and examined our arms, we reached a stand within firing distance. It was not till this moment that our approach was discovered by them, and the first thing they did after running a few yards, was to sit up in the grass and gaze at us. Having each singled his animal, we fired at the same instant. Both animals fled, but on reaching the spot where my mark had sat, blood was copiously found on the grass, and a pursuit was the consequence. I followed him up a long ridge, but he passed over the summit so far before me, that I lost sight of him. I came to a large hol- low black oak, in the direction he had disappeared, which showed the nail marks of some animal, which I believed to be his. While exa- mining these signs more closely my companion made his appear- ance. How he had got there I know not. The excitement had well nigh cured his ancle He stood by the orifice, while I went for the axe to our camp, and when I was tired chopping, he laid hold. ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 59 We chopped alternately, and big as it was, the tree at last came down with a crash that made the forest ring. For a few moments we looked at the huge and partly broken trunk as if a bear would start from it ; but all was silence. We thoroughly searched the hollow part but found nothing. I went over another ridge of forest land, started a noble elk, but saw nothing more of my bear. Here terminated this adventure. We retraced our footsteps back to the valley, and proceeded on our route. This inci- dent had led us a little south of our true course ; and it so turned out that it was at a point, where a mile or two one way or the other, was calculated to make a wide difference in the place of our exit into the valley of White River ; for we were on a hiph broken summit ridge, from which several important streams (^^-v ina The pursuit of the bear had carried us near to the head of lu. /alley, 1 by crossing the im >•' ^^ ..ing summit, we found ourselves at the head springs of an important stream, which in due time we learned was the Great North Fork of White River. This stream begins to develope itself m pools, or standing springs, which soak through the gravel and boulders, and it is many miles before it assumes the cha- racter of a continuous stream. Even then it proceeds in plateaux or steps, on which the water has a level, and the next succeeding level below it has its connection with it, through a rapid. In fact, the whole stream, till near its mouth, is one series of these lake-like levels, and short rapids, each level sinking lower and lower, till, like the locks in a canal, the last flows out on a level with its final recipient. But however its waters are congregated, they are all pure and colourless as rock crystal, and well vin- dicate the propriety of their original name of la Riviere Blanc. They all originate in mountain springs, are cool and sparkling, and give assurance in this featurcj that they will carry heahh to the future inhabitants of the valley through which they flow. With the first springs begins to be seen a small growth of the cane, which is found a constant species on its bot- tom lands. This plant becomes high in more southern latitudes, and being intertwined with the green briar, renders it very difficult, as we soon found, to penetrate it, especially with a horse. Man can endure a thousand ad- ventures and hardships where a horse would die ; and it would require no further testimony than this journey gave, to convince me, that providence designed the horse for a state of civilization. We followed the course of these waters about six miles, and emcamped. It was evidently the source of a stream of some note. It ran in the re- quired direction, and although we did not then know, that it was the valley of the Great North Fork of White River, we were satisfied it was a tributary of the latter stream, and determined to pursue it. This we did for twelve days, before we met with a human being, white or red. It rapidly developed itself, as we went, and unfolded an important valley, of rich soil, bearing a vigorous growth of forest trees, and enclosed on either hand, by elevated limestone cliffs. Nothing could exceed the purity of 60 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. its waters, which bubbled up in copious springs, from the rock, or pebble stratum. For a long distance the stream increased from such accessions alone, without larga and independent tributaries. On the second day's travel, we came to a spring, of this crystal c^ acter, which we judged to be about fifty feet across, at the point of its issue from the rock and soil. Its outlet after running about a thousand yards, joined the main stream, to which it brings a volume fully equal to it. This spring I named the Elk Spring, from the circumstance of finding a large pair of the } rrns of this animal, partly buried in the leaves, at a spot '^'heie I stooped down to drink. I took the horns, and hung t7iem in the forks of a young oak tree. We found abundance of game in this valley. There was not an entire day, I think, until we got near the, hunters' camps, that we did not see either the bear, elk, or deer, or their recent signs. Flocks of the v/ild tur- key were of daily occurrence. The gray squirrel frequently sported on the trees, and as the stream increased in size, we found the duck, brant and swan. There were two serious objections, however, in travelling down a wooded valley. Its shrubbery was so thick and rank that it was next to impossible to force the pack horse through it. Wherever the cane abounds, and this comprehends all its true alluvions, it is found to be matted to* gether, as it were, with the green briar and grape vine. So much noise attended the effort at any rate, that the game generally fled before us, and had it not been for small game, we she 'd have often wanted a meal. With every effort, we could not make an orage of more than fourteen miles a day. The river was so tortuous too, that we could not count, on making more than half this distance, in a direct line. To remedy these evils we sometimes went out of the valley, on the open naked plains. It was a relief, but had, in the end, these difficulties, that while the plains exposed us to greater heats in travelling, they afforded no water, and we often lost much time in the necessity, we were under, towards night-fall, of going back to the valley for water. Neither was it found to be safe to travel far separated, for there were many causes of accident, which rendered mutual assistance desirable. One day, while Enobitti led the horse, and was conducting him from a lofty ridge, to get into the valley, the animal stumbled, and rolled to the bottom. We thought every bone in his body had been broke, but he hud been protected by his pack, and we found that he was but little injured, and when repacked, still capable of going forward. On another occasion, I had been leading him for several hours, along a high terrace of cliffs on the left banks where this terrace was, as it were, suddenly cut off by the intersection of a lateral valley. The view was a sublime one, standing at the pinna- cle of junction ; but there was no possible way of descent, and it was neces- sary to retrace my steps, a long — long way. As an instance of the very ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. 61 tortuous character of this stream, I will mention that a rocky peninsula, causing a bend which it took my companion some two hours to pass, with the horse, I had crossed in less than twenty minutes, with my hammer and gun. When we had, as we supposed, become familiar with every species of impediment and delay, in descending the valley, a new, and very serious and unexpected one, arose one day, in crossing the stream, from the left to the right bank. It was my turn to be muleteer that day, and I had selected a ford where the river was not wide, and the water, apparently, some two or three feet deep. I judged from the clearness of the pebbles at the bottom, and their apparent nearness to the surface. But such was the transparency of the water, that a wide mistake was made. We had nearly lost the horse, he plunged in over head, could not touch bottom, and when with great ado, we had got him up the steep bank on the other side, he was completely exhausted. But this was not the extent of the evil. Our sugar and salt were dissolved. Our meal, of which a little still remained, was spoiled. Our tea was damaged, — our blankets and cloth- ing wetted, — our whole pack soaked. The horse had been so long in the water, in our often fruitless efforts to get him to some part of the bank depressed enough, to pull him up, that nothing had escaped its effects. We encamped on the spot, and spent the rest of the day in drying our effects, and expelling from our spare garments the superfluous inoisture. The next day we struck out into the high plains, on the right bank, and made a good day's journey. The country was nearly level, denuded of trees, with sere autumnal grass. Often the prairie hen started up, but we saw nothing in the animal creation beside, save a few hares, as even- ing came on. To find water for the horse, and ourselves, we were again compelled to approach the valley. We at length entered a dry and desolate gorge, without grass or water. Night came on, but no sound or sight of water occurred. We were sinking deeper and deeper into the rocky structure of the country at every stop, and soon found there were high cliffs on either side of us. What we most feared now occurred. It became dark, the clouds had threatened foul weather and it now began to rain. Had it not been for a cavern, which disclosed itself, in one of these calcareous cliffs, we must have passed a miserable night. On enter- ing it, we found a spring of water. It was too high in the cliff to get the horse in, but we carried him water in a vessel. He was afterwards hob- bled, and left to shift for himself On striking a fire, in the cave, its rays disclosed masses of stalactites, and a dark avenue into the rocks back. Having made a cup of tea and finished our repast, we determined to ex- plore the cave before lying down to rest, lest we might be intruded on by jBome wild animal before morning. A torch of pine wood was soon made, which guided our footsteps into the dismal recess, but we found nothing of the kind. On returning to our fire, near the mouth of the cave, we found the rain had increased to a heavy shower, and the vivid flashes of 63 ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. lightning, illumined with momentary brilliancy, the dark and frowning precipices of this romantic gorge. The excitement and novelty of out po- sition, served to drive away sleep, notwithstanding a long day's march, and it was late before we sought repose. Morning brought a clear sky, but the horse was gone. He had fol- lowed on the back track, up the glen, in search of something to feed upon, and was not found till we reached the skirts of the plains. The whole morning was indeed, lost in reclaiming him, and we then set forward again and returned to the North Fork valley. We found it had assumed a greater expanse, at the point of our re-entry, whici it maintained, and increased, as we pursued it down. Wide open oak plains extended on the left bank, which appeared very eligible for the purposes of set- tlement. On an oak tree, at this spot, we observed some marks, which had probably been made by some enterprising land explorer. With these improved evidences of its character for future occupation, we found the travelling easier. Within a few miles travel, we noticed a tributary com- ing in on the left bank, and at a lower point another on the left. The first stream had this peculiarity, that its waters came in at a right angle, with the parent stream, and with such velocity as to pass directly across its channel to the opposite bank. In this vicinity, we saw many of the deserted pole camps of the Osages, none of which appeared, however, to have been recently occupied. So far, indeed, we had met no hindrance, or annoyance from this people ; we had not even encountered a single mem- ber of the tribe, and felt assured that the accounts we had received of their cruelty and rapacity, had been grossly exaggerated, or if not wholly overcoloured, they must have related to a period in their history, which was now well nigh past. We could not learn tliat they had hunted on these lands, during late years, and were afterwards given to understand that they had ceded them to the United States by a treaty concluded at St. Louis. From whatever causes, however, the district had been left free from their roving parties, it was certain that the game had recovered un- der such a cessation of the chase. The black bear, deer and elk, were abundant. We also frequently saw signs of the labours of the beaver along the valley. I had the good luck, one day, while in advance with my gun, of beholding two of these animals, at play in the stream, and ob- serving their graceful motions. My position was, within point blank shot of them, but I was screened from their gaze. I sat, with gun cocked, meaning to secure one of them after they came to the shore. Both ani- mals came out together, an.d sat on the bank at the edge of the river, a ledge of rocks being in the rear of them. The noveUy of the sight led me to pause, and admire them, when, all of a sudden, they darted into a crevice in the rock. On the second day after re-entering the valley, we descried, on descend- ing a long slope of rising ground, a hunter's cabin, covered with narrow 01 ii S( ir C( ir ai ri ii w ai ADVENTURES IN THE OZARK MOUNTAINS. Vf oak boards, split with a frow ; and were exhilarated with the idea of find- ing it occupied. But this tu.ned out a delusive hope. It had been de- serted, from appearance, the year before. We found, among the surround- ing weeds, a few stems of the cotton plant, which had grown up from seeds, accidentally dropped. The bolls had opened. I picked out the cotton to serve as a material in lighting my camp fires, at night, this be- ing a labour which I had taken the exclusive management of The site of this camp, had been well chosen. There was a small stream in front, and a heavy rich cane bottom behind it, extending to the banks of the river. A handsome point of woodlands extended north of it, from the immediate door of the camp. And although somewhat early in the day, we determined to encamp, and soon made ourselves masters of the fabric, and sat down before a cheerful fire, with a title to occupancy, wMcb there was no one to dispute. THE BIRD. VERSIFIED FROM THE GERMAN OF OESSNER! 1812. A swain, as he strayed through the grove, Had caught a young bird on a spray — What a gift, he exclaimed, for my love, How beautiful, charming, and gay. With r4|)ture he viewed the fair prize. And listened with joy to its chat. As with haste to the meadow he hies To secure it beneath his straw hat. I will make of yon willows so gay, A cage for my prisoner to mourn, Then to Delia, the gift I'll convey, And beg for a kiss in return. She will grant tne that one, I am sure, For a present so rare and so gay, , And I easily can steal a few more And bear them enraptured away. He returned : but imagine his grief. The wind had his hat overthrown. And ♦he bird, in the joy of relief. Away with his kiss ss had flown. m H. K & a PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS OF THE INDIAN RACE, DRAWN FROM NOTES OF TRAVEL AND RESIDENCE IN THEIR TERRITORIES. CHARACTER CF THE RED MAN OF AMERICA. Inquiry I. — What kind of a being is the North American Indian 7 — Have we judged rightly of him ? — What are his peculiar traits, his afTections, and his intellectual qualities 7 — Is he much influenced by his religion, his mode of government, and his complicated language. My earliest impressions of the Indian race, were'tirawn from the fire- side rehearsals of incidents which had happened during the perilous times of the American revolution ; in which my father was a zealous actor, and were all inseparably connected with the fearful ideas of the Indian yell, the tomahawk, the scalping knife, and the fire brand. In these reci- tals, the Indian was depicted as the very impersonation of evil- — a sort of wild demon, Avho delighted in nothing so much as blood and murder, Whether he had mind, was governed by any reasons, or even had any soul, nobody inquired, and nobody cared. It was always represented as a meritorious act in old revolutionary reminiscences, to have killed one of them in the border wars, and thus aided in ridding the land of a cruel and unnatural race, in whom all feelings of pity, justice, and mercy, were supposed to be obliterated. These early ideas were sustained by printed narratives of captivity and hair-breadth escapes of men and women from their clutches, which, from time to time, fell into ray hands, so that long before I was ten years old, I had a most definite and terrific idea impressed on my imagination of what was sometimes called in my native precincts, " the bow and arrow race." To give a definite conception of the Indian man, there lived in my na- tive valley, a family of Indians of the Iroquois stock, who often went off 64 PERGONAL INCIDENTS AXU IMPRESSIONS. of der, any s a Kof ited m sed :t8, la- I their people in the west, and a^ nftrn returned again, as if they were a Iroop of genii, or the ghosts of the departed, who came to haunt the nut ■vood forests, and sub-vallies of the sylvan Tawasenthaw, which their an* icstors had formerly possessed, and to which they still claimed some right. In this family, which was of the Oneida tribe, and consisted of the hus- band and wife, with two grown up sons, I first saw those characteristic features of the race, — namely, a red skin, with bright black eyes, and black straight hair. They were mild and docile in their deportment, an(j were on friendly terms with the whole settlement, whom they furnished with neatly made baskets of the linden wood, split very thin, and coloured to impart variety, and with nice ash brooms. These fabrics made them welcome guests with every good housewife, who had forgotten tha horrific stories of the revolution, and who was ever ready to give a chair and a plate, and a lodging place by the kitchen fire, to poor old Isaac aud Anna, for so they had been named. What their oriq;inal names wer^ , nobody knew ; they had lived so long in the valley .hat they spo'.e the Dutch language, and never made use of their own, except when talking together; and I recollect, we thought it a matter of wonder, whea they discoursed in Indian, whether such a guttural jargon, could po..c:ibly bo the medium of conveying any very definite ideas. It seemed to be or** undistinguished tissue of hard sounds, blending all parts of speecU together. Had the boys of my own age, and I may say, the grow n people, stopped to reflect, and been led to consider this family and their race in America, independently of their gross acts, under the strong excitements of war and revenge, goaded by wrongs, and led on by the class ol' revo- lutionary tories, more implacable than even themselves, we must have seen, in the peaceable lives, quiet manners, and benevolent dispositions of these four people, a contradiction to, at least, some part, of the sweeping conclusions above noticed. But no such thoughts occurred. The word " Indian," was synonymous then, as perhaps now, with half the opprobri- ous epithets in the dictionary. I recollect to have myself made a few lines, m early life, on the subject, which ran thus : — Indians they were, ere Colon crossed the ^.n And ages hence, they shall but Indians be. Fortunately I was still young when my sphere of observation was en- larged, by seeing masses of them, in their nativt forests ; and I, after a few years, assumed a position as government ngf ni to one of the leading tribes, at an age when opinions are not too firmly rooted to permit change. My opinions were still, very much however, what they had been in boyhood. 1 looked upon them as very cannibals and blood-thirsty fellows, who were only waiting a good opportunity to knock one in the head. But I regarded tnem as a curious subject of observation. The remembrance of poor old Isaac, had shown me that there was some feeling and humanity in theix I 'I 'm PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. ■■■■■ --it. breasts. I had seen many of them in my travels in the west, and I felt inclined to inquire into the traits of a people, amon^f whom my duties had placed me. I had, from early youth, felt pleased wiu^ the study of natural history, and I thought the Indian, at least in his languages, might be studied with something of the same mode of exactitude. I had a strong propensity, at this time of life, for analysis, and I believed that something like an analytical process might be applied to enquiries, at least in the department of philology. Whenever a fact occurred, in the progress of my official duties, which I deemed characteristic, I made note of it, and in this way preserved a sort of skeleton of dates and events, which, it was believed, would be a source of useful future 3ference. It is, in truth, under advantages of the kind, that these remarks are commenced. The author has thrown out these remarks, as a starting point. He has made observations which do not, in all respects, coincide with the com- monly received opinions, and drawn some conclusions which are directly adverse to them. He has been placed in scenes and circumstances of varied interest, and met with many characters, in the course of four and twenty years' residence and travel in the wilds of America, who would have struck any observer as original and interesting. With numbers of them, he has formed an intimate acquaintance, and with not a few, con- tracted lasting friendships. Connected with them by a long residence, by the exercise of official duties, and by still more delicate and sacred ties, he has been regarded by them as one identified with their history, and received many marks of their confidence. The Indians, viewed as a distinct branch of the human race, have some peculiar traits and institutions, from which their history and character may be advantageously studied. They hold some opinions, which are not easily discovered by a strangor, or a foreigner, but which yet exert a pow- eif'il iiiiliience on their conduct and life. There is a subtlety in some of their modes of thought and belief, on life and the existence of spiritual and creative power, which would seem to have been eliminated from some intellectual crucible, without the limits of their present sphere. Yet, there is much relative to all the common concerns of life, which is peculiar to it. The author has witnessed many practices and observances, such as travellers have often noticed, but like others, attributed them to accident, or to some cause widely different from tlie true one. By degrees, he has been admitted into their opinions, and if we may so call it, the philosophy of their minds ; and the life of an Indian no longer appears to him n. mystery. He sees him acting, as other men would act, if placed exactly in his condition, prepared with the education the forest has given hun, and surrounded with the same wants, temptations and dangers. The gentler afp.ctions are in much more extensive and powerful exer- cise among the Indian race, than is gencraiiy believed, ul'.hough necessa- rily developed with less refinement than in civilized society. Theii pater- I PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 67 xer- !ssa- itei- nal and fraternal affections, have long been known to be very strong, as well as their veneration for the dead. It has been his province in these departments, to add some striking examples of their intensity of feeling and affection, and truthfulness to nature. The most powerful source of influence, with the Red man, is his religion. Here is the true groundwork of his hopes and his fears, and, it is believed, the fruitful source of his opinions and action.s. It supplies the system of thought by which he lives and dies, and it constitutes, indeed, the basis of Indian character. By it he preserves his identity, as a barbarian, and when this is taken awajr. and the true system substituted, he is still a Red Man, but no longer, in the popular sense, an Indian — a barbarian, a pagan. The Indian religion is a peculiar compound of rites, and doctrines, and observances, which are early taught the children by precept and example. In this respect, every bark-built village is a temple, and every forest a school. It would surprise any person to become acquainted with the variety and extent to which an Indian is influenced by his religious views and superstitions. He takes no important step without reference to it. It is his guiding motive in peace and in war. He follows the chace under its influence, and his very amusements take their tincture from it. To the author, the facts have been developing themselves for many years, and while he is able to account for the peculiar differences between the con- duct of Indians and that of white men, in given cases, he can easily per- ceive, why liie latter have so often been unable to calculate the actions of the former, and even to account for them, when they have taken place. It may be here remarked, that the civilized man, is no less a mysterious and unaccountable being to an Indian, because his springs of action are alike unintelligible to him. If the following pages shall afford the public any means of judging of the Red Race, with greater accuracy, he hopes they may lead to our treating them with greater kindness and a more enlarged spirit of justice. The change which has been wrought in his own mind, by the facts he has witnessed, has been accompanied by a still more important one, as to their intellectual capacities and moral susceptibilities, and their consequent claims on the philanthropy of the age. As a class of men, it is thought their native speakers, without letters or education, possess a higher scope of thought and illustration, than the corresponding class in civilized life. This may be accounted for, perhaps, from obvious e.xternal causes, with- out impugning the actual native capacity of the lower, although educated classes of civilized life. Still, it is a very striking fact, and one which has very often forced itself on the attention of the author. The old idea that the Indian mind is not susceptible of a high, or an advantageous develope- ment, rests upon questionable data. The two principal cnuscs, which have prolonged their continuance in a state of barbaripm, on this continent. ii:!*'. 68 PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. ibr so long a perwd, are a false religion, and false vie^s of government. The first has kept back social prosperity and impeded the rise of virtue. With respect to government, during all the time we have had them for neigh- bours, they may be said to have had no government at all. Personal inde- pendence, has kept the petty chiefs from forming confederacies for the com- jnon good. Individuals have surrendered no part of their original private rights, to secure the observance of the rest. There has been no public aodial organization, expressed or implied. The consequence has been that the law of private redress and revenge prevailed. In the only two cases where this system was departed from, in North America, namely that of the Azteek empire, and of the Iroquois confederacy, there was no lack of vigour to improve. The results were a constantly increasing power, and extending degree of knowledge up to the respective eras of their conquest. It was not want of mental capacity, so much as the non-existence of moral power, and of the doctrines of truth and virtue, that kept them back ; and left our own wandering tribes, particularly, with ti>e bow and the spear in their hands. He believes, that their errors, in these particulars, may be pointed out, without drawing conclusions adverse to their political or social prosperity, under better . auspicies, and without attributing such failures to mental imbecility. The mode of recording thought, among these tribes, by means of pic- torial signs, and mnemonic symbols, has attracted particular attention, and gives the author hopes, that he has been enabled to collect, and bring for- tvard, a body of facts, in this department, which will recommend them- selves by their interest and novelty. Confidence, inspired by long resi- dence in their territories, revealed to him another trait of character, in the existence among them of a traditionary imaginative lore, which is repeated from father to son, and has no small influence upon their social condition. It is in these two departments, that, he believes, he has opened new and important means of judging of the Indian character, and discovered the sources of views and opinions, on many subjects, vvhich had escaped pre- vious inquirers. There is one more point, to which he will here invite a momentary at- tention, and which, although not usually enumerated as among the prac- tical causes that influenced Indian society and character, is yet believed to exercise a strong, though ^lent sway, both upon the question of the mental character, and its true development. The author alludes to the topic of their languages. Some of the most venerated writers present a theory of the origin of national government languages and institutions, difficult or impossible to be conformed with the nature of man in society, and un- supported by such evidence as their doctrines require. Such, he regards, ihe theory of the " social compact," except it be viewed in the most un- defined and general sense possible. Such, also, is the theory of the •rigin and improvement of languages The system of government gene- PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 69 rally prevailing among the Indian tribes, is indeed so simple and natural, under their circumstances, that it is thought no person would long seek for the traces of any great legislator, giving them laws in any past period. When, however, we consider the curious structure of their languages, we find an ingenuity and complexity, far surpassing any theory to be discovered in that of the modern languages of Europe, with, perhaps, some exceptions in the Basque and Majyer, and even beyond any thing exist- ing in the Greek. As the latter has long been held up as a model, and the excellencies of its plan attributed to some unknown, but great and sa- gacious, learned and refined mind, we might feel justified in assigning the richness of forms, the exceeding flexibility, and the characteristic beau- ties and excellencies of the Indian tongues, to a mind of far superior wis- dom, ingenuity, and experience. Yet how perfectly gratuitous would this be ! All history bears testimony against the human invention and de- signed alteration of language ; and none but a mere theorist can ever em- brace the idea that it is, or ever was, in the power of any man, to fabricate and introduce a new language, or to effect a fundamental change in the groundwork of ati existing one. This, at least, is the decided opinion of the author ; and he firmly believes, that whoever will contemplate the subject, amidst such scenes as he has been accustomed to, will inevita- bly come to the same conclusion. He has seen changes in dialects commenced and pro^^ressive, and indications of others going on, but these owed their origin and impulse to accidental circumstances, and were not the result of any plan or design. They were the result of necessity, convenience, or caprice. These three causes, that is to say, necessity convenience and caprice, if properly examined and appreciated in their influence, and traced with care to their effects, will develop the origin of many things, whose existence has been sought at too great a distance, or amidst too much refinement. Books, and the readers of books, have done much to bewilder and per- plex the study of the Indian character. Fewer theories and more obser- vation, less fancy and more fact, might have brought us to much more correct opinions than those which are now current. The Indian is, after all, believed to be a man, much more fully under the influence of common sense notions, and obvious every-day motives of thought and action, hope and fear, than he passes for. If he does not come to the same conclusions, on passing questions, as we do, it is precisely be- cause he sees the premises, under widely different circumstances. The admitted errors of barbarism and the admitted truths of civilization, are two very different codes. He is in want of almost every source of true know- ledge and opinion, which we possess. He has very imperfect notions on many of those branches of knowledge in what we suppose him best informed. He is totally in the dark as to others. His vague and vast and dreamy notions of the Great Author of Existence, and the mode !i!l m PEIlSOrfAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. of his i.ianifestations to the human race, and the wide and complicated system of superstition and transcendental idolatry which he has reared upon this basis, place him, at once, with all his sympathies and theories, out of the great pale of truth and civilization. This is one of the leading circumstances which prevents him from drawing his conclusions as we draw them. Placed under precisely similar circumstances, we should perhaps coincide in his opinion and judgments. But aside from these er- roneous views, and after making just allowances for his ignorance and moral depression, the Indian is a man of plain common sense j idg- ment, acting from what he knows, and sees, and feels, of objeciS imrri ;di- ately before him, or palpable to his view. If he sometimes emploj > a highly figurative style to communicate his thoughts, and even stoops as we now know he does, to amuse his fire-side circle with tales of extra a- gant and often wild demonic fancy, he is very far from being a man wl o, in his affairs of lands, and merchandize, and business, exchanges the sobor thoughts of self preservation and subsistence, for the airy conceptions of fancy. The ties of consanguinity bind him strongly. The relation of the family is deep and well traced amongst the wildest tribes, and this fact alone forms a basis for bringing him back to all his original duties, and re-organizing Indian society. The author has, at least, been thrown into scenes and positions, in which this truth has strongly presented itself to his mind, and he believes the facts are of a character which will interest the reader, and may be of some use to the people themselves, so far as affects the benevolent plans of the age, if they do not constitute an increment in the body of observational testimony, of a practical natura from which the character of the race is to be judged. PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS OF THE RED RACE, DRAWN FROM NOTES OF RESIDENCE AND TRAVEL IN THE IN- DI AN TERRITORIES. DOMESTIC CONDITION OF THE TRIBES AND CONSTUTION OP THE INDIAN FAMILY. .1 brauiRY II.— What is the domestic condition and organization of the Indian family t Is the tie of consanguinity strong, and what characteristic facts can be stated of it? How are the domestic duties arranged ? W^hat are the rights of each inmate of the lodge ? How is order maintained in so confined a space, and the general relations of the family preserved ? Are the relative duties and labours of the hunter and his wife, equally or unequally divided ? Who builds the lodge, and how is it constructed? There is a very striking agreement, in the condition, relative duties and obligations, of the Indian family, among all the tribes of whom I have any personal knowledge, in North America. Climate and positionf, the abundance or want of the means of subsistence and other accidental causes, have created gradations of condition in the various tribes, some of whom excel others in expertness, in hunting and war, and other arts, but these circumstances have done little to alter the general characteristics, or to abridge or enlarge the original rights and claims of each inmate of the lodge. The tribes who cultivated maize in the rich sub-vallies and plains of the Ohio and Mississippi, had fuller means of both physical and mental development, than those who were, and still are, obliged to pick a scanty •ubsistence, among the frigid, and half marine regions in the latitudes north of the great lakes. There are some peculiar traits of manners, in the prairie-tribes, west of the Mississippi, who pursue the bison on horse back, and rely for their subsistence greatly, on its flesh, and the sale of its skin. The well fed Muscogee, Cherokee, or Choctaw, who lived in the sunny vallios of upper Georgia, Alabama, and Tennessee, the robust Osage, revelling in the abundance of corn and wild meat, south of the 71 I 7« PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. Missouri, and the lean and rigid Montaignes, Muskeego, and Kenisteno, who push their canoes through waters choked with aquatic weeds, and wild rice, present very different pictures of home and comfort, within their k)dge doors. But they really present the same idea, the same sentiments, and the same round of duties and obligations, of father and mother, sister and brother, wife and husband. The original type of the human family among them, is well preserved, better, indeed, than wis to have been ex- pected in a state of barbarism, and among branches of the race who have been so long separated, and subjected to such severe vicissitudes. It would be useless, in this view, to draw a parallel between the relative con- dition of the members of a family, within, and without the pale of civiliza- tion. Nothing of the kind could be done, without showing up pictures of want in the hunter-life which are wholly unknown in the agricultural state. It cannot perhaps, in fair justice, be said that the tie of consan- guinity, in the man of the woods, is stronger, than in civilized life. But It is in accordance with all observation to say, that it is very strong, that its impulses beat with marked force, and are more free from the inter- twined ligaments of interest, which often weakens the tie of relationship in refined and affluent society. The true idea of matrimony, in Indian life, is also well set forth and acknowledged, although it has come down through ages of plunder and wandering, degraded in its condition, shorn of its just ceremonies, and weakened in its sacred character. I have observed that polygamy, among the northern tribes, is chiefly to be found, among bands who are favour- ably located, and have the best means of subsistence. But even here it is not reputable ; it may often increase a man's influence in the tribe or nation, but theie are always persons in the wildest forests, who do not think the practice right or reputable. In the worst state of Indian society, there are ilways some glimmerings of truth. If the conscience of the Red man may be compared to a lamp, it may be said to have rather sunk low into its socket, than actually to have expired. The relation between husband »nd wife, in the forest, are formed under circumstances, which are genii- rally uniform. Various incidents, or motives determine a union. Somo- times it is brought about by the intervention of friends ; sometimes from a sudden impulse of admiration ; sometimes with, and sometimes against the wishes of the graver and more prudent relatives of the parties. Where the husband is acceptable, and has not before been married, which covers the majority of cases, he comes to live for a while after mar- riage, in the lodge of his mother-in-law ; and this relation generally lasts until the increase of children, or other circumstances determine his setting up a lodge for himself Presents are still a ready way for a young hun- ter to render himself acceptable m a lodge. There are some instances, where considerable ceremony, and the invitation of friends, have attended the first reception of the bridegroom, at the lodge ; but these are in most i PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 73 cases, what we should denominate matches of state, or expediency, in which the bravery, or other public services of a chief or leader, has in- clined his village to think, that his merits deserve the reward of a wife. Generally, the acceptance of the visitor by the party most interested, and her mother and father, and their expressed, or tacit consent, is the only preliminary, and this is done in a private way. The only ceremonial observance, of which I have ever heard, is the assigning of what is called an abbinos, or permanent lodge seat, to the bridegroom. When this has been done, by the mother or mistress of the lodge, who governs these things, he is received, and henceforth installed as a constituent member of the lodge and family. The simple rule is, that he who has a right to sit by the bride, is her husband. The lodge itself, with all its arrangements, is the precinct of the rule and government of the wife. She assigns to each member, his or her or- dinary place to sleep and put their effects. These places are permanent, and only changed at her will, as when there is a guest by day or night. In a space so small as a lodge this system preserves order, and being at all times under her own eye, is enforced by personal supervision. The hus- band has no voice in this matter, and I have never heard of an instance in which he would so far deviate from his position, as to interfere in these minor particulars. The lodge is her precinct, the forest his. There is no law, nor force, to prevent an Indian from decreeing his own divorce, that is to say, leaving one wife and taking another whenever he sees cause. Yet it often occurs that there is some plausible pretext for such a step, such as if true, would form some justification of the measure. The best protection to married females arises from the ties of children, which by bringing into play the strong natural aflfections of the heart, and appeals at once to that principle in man's original organization, which is the strongest. The average number of children borne by the women, and which reach the adult period is small, and will scarcely exceed two. On the pay rolls it did not exceed this. Much of this extraordinary result is owing to their erratic mode of life, and their cramped means of subsis- tence. Another cause is to be found in the accidents and exposure to which young children are liable, but still more to their shocking ignorance of medicine. I once* knew a child at three years of age to be killed by an attempt to restore a deranged state of the bowels, by a strong overdose of an astringent tincture of hemlock bark administered by her father. This man, who was called Attuck, had strong natural affections, but he was very ignorant even in the eyes of the Indian race, being one of that people living N. E. of lake Superior, who are called variously Gens de Terres, Mountaineers, and Muskeegoes. Wherever the laws of reproduc tion are relieved from these depressing circumstances, the number of chil- dren is seen to be increased. The chief laba-Waddick, who lived on a small bay at the foot of lake ! 74 PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. Superior, and had abundance of means of subsistence, had fourteen chil- dren by one wife. He was an excellent hunter, and of habits for the most part of his life, strictly temperate ; he had married young, and had always had the means of providing his family with adequate clothing and food. Not one of these children died in infancy. He lived himself to be old, and died rather from a complaint induced by constitutional structure, than from a natural decay of vital power. The duties and labours of Indian life, are believed to be equally, and not, as has been generally thought, unequally divided between the malo and female. This division is also the most natural possible, and such us must ever result from the condition of man, as a mere hunter. It is the duty of the male to provide food, and of the female to prepare it. This arrangement carries with it to the share of the male, all that relates to ex- ternal concerns, and all that pertains to the internal to the care of the female as completely as is done in civilized life. To the man belongs not only the business of hunting, for this is an employment and not a pastime, but the care of the territory, and keeping off intruders and enemies, and the pre- paration of canoes for travel, and of arms and implements of war. The duties of cooking and dressing meats and fowl, and whatever else the chase affords, carries on the other hand, to the share of the hunter's wife, the entire care and controul of the lodge, with its structure and removal, and the keeping it in order, with all its utensils and apparatus. A good and frugal hunter's wife, makes all this a point of ambitious interest, and takes a pride in keeping it neat and proper for the reception of her hus- band's guests. She sweeps the earth clean around the fire, with a broom of branches of the cedar constructed for this purpose. This lodge it is tc be remembered, is made not of beams and posts, and heavy carpentry, but out of thin poles, such as a child can lift, set in the ground in a circle, bent over and tied at thetop,and sheathed with long sheets of the white birch bark. A rim of cedar wood at the bottom, assimilates these birch bark sheets to the roller of a map, to which in stormy wep.ther a stone is at- tached to hold it firm. This stick has also the precise use of a map- roller, for when the lodge is to be removed, the bark is rolled on it, and in this shape carried to the canoe, to be set up elsewhere. The circle of sticks or frame, is always left standing, as it would be useless to en- cumber the canoe with what can easily be had at any position in a forest country. Such at least is the hunting lodge, and indeed, the lodge generally used by the tribes north of lattitude 42°. It is, in its figure, a half globe, and by its lightness and wicker-like structure, may be saiJ to resemble an inverted bird's nest. The whole amount of the transportable materials of it, is often comprehended in some half a dozen good rolls of bark, and as many of rush mats which the merest girl can easily lift. The mats which are the substitute for floor cloths, and also the under stratum of the sleep- I PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESaiONS. 75 lly ing couch, are made out of the common lacustris or bulhush, or the flag, cut at the proper season, and woven in a warp of fine hemp net thread, such as is furnished by traders in the present state of the Indian trade. A portion of this soft vegetable woof, is dyed, and woven in vari- ous colours. Lodges thus constructed are to be still abundantly seen, by the summer visitor, in the upper lakes, at all the principal points, to which the Indians resort, during the height of summer. Such are the posts of Michilimackinac, Sault Ste. Marie, and Green Bay. At Michili- mackinac, where it is now difficult to get fresh lodge poles, without going some distance, or trespassing on private rights, the natives who resort thi* ther, of late years, have adopted an ingenious change, by which two ob- jects are accomplished at the same time, and the labour of the females dis- pensed with in getting new poles. It is known, that the bark canoe, be- ing itself but an enlarged species of wicker work, has not sufficierU strength to be freighted, without previously having a number of poles laid longitudinally, in the bottom, as a kind of vertebral support. These poles on landing upon the gravelly shores of that island, are set up, or stacked to use a military phrase, that is tying the tops together and then drawing out the other ends so as to describe a circle, and thus making a perfect cone. The bark tapestry is hung around these poles very much as it would be around the globular close lodges ; and by this arrangement, an Indian lodge is raised, and ready for occupation, in as many minutes, after ' mding, as the most expert soldiers could pitch a tent in. Before we can affirm that the labour of preparing these barks and mat« and setting up, and taking down, the lodge, is disproportionately great, or heavy on the females, it will be necessary to inquire into other particu- lars, both on the side of the male and female. Much of the time of an In- dian female, is passed in idleness. This is true not only of a part of every day, but is emphatically so, of certain seasons of the year. She has not like the farmer's wife, her cows to milk, her butter and cheese to make, and her flax to spin. She has not to wash and comb and prepare her children every morning, to go to school. She has no extensive or fine wardrobe to take care of She has no books to read. She sets little value on time, which is characteristic of all the race. What she does, is either very plain sewing, or some very pains taking ornamental thing. When the sheathing and flooring of the lodges a-re once made, they are permanent pieces of property, and do not require frequent renewal. When a skin has been dressed, and a garment made of it, it is worn, till it is worn out. Frequent ablution and change of dress, are eminently the traits of high civilization, and not of the hunter's lodge. The articles which enter into the mysteries of the laundry, add but little to the cares of a forest housekeeper. With every industrial efllbrt, and such is, somtimes the case, there is much unoccupied time, while her hus- band is compelled by their necessities, to traverse large tracts, and endure 'M !, i 76 PKR80NAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. great fatigues, in all weathers in quest of food. He must defend his hunt* ing grounds, in peace and war, and has his life daily in his hands- Long obsences are often necessary, on these accounts. It is at such times, during the open season, thot the Indian femole exerts her industry. In the fall season, she takes her children in a canoe, or if she have none in- vites a female companion to go with her, along the streams, to cut the rush, to be manufactured into mats, at her leisure, in the winter. It is also a part of her duty, at all seasons, to provide fuel for the lodge fire, which she is careful to do, that she may suitably receive her husband, on his return from the chase, and have the means of drying his wet mocca- sins, and a cheerful spot, where he may light his pipe, and regain his mental equilibrium, while she prepares his meals. The very idea of a female's chopping wood, is to some horrifHc. But it is quite true that the Indian female does chop wood, or at least, exert an undue labour, in procuring this necessary article of the household. In speaking of the female, we, at once, rush to the poetic idea of the refinement of lady like gentleness, and delicacy. Not only does the nature of savage life and the hardiness of muscle created by centuries of forest vicissitude, give the hunter's wife, but a slender claim on this particular shade of character, but the kind ot labour implied, is very difforent from the notion civilized men have of "wood chopping." The emigrant swings a heavy axe of six pounds weight, incessantly, day in, and day out, against immense trees, in the heaviest forest, until he has opened the land to the rays of the sun, and prepared an amount of cyclopean labours for the power of fire, and the ox. The hunter clears no forests, the limits of which on the contrary, he carefully cherishes for his deer to range in. He seats himself down, with his lodge, in the borders of natural glades, or meadows, to plant his few hills of maize. He had no metallic axe, capable of cutting down a tree, before 1492, and he has never learned to wield a heavy axe up to 1844. His wife, always made her lodge fires by gathering sticks, and she does so still. She takes a hatchet of one or two pounds weight, and after collecting dry limbs in the forest, she breaks them into lengths of about 18 inches, and ties them in bundles, or faggots, and carries them, at her leisure, to her lodge. Small as these sticks are, in their length and diame- ter, but few are required to boil her pot. The lodge, being of small cir cumference, but little heat is required to warm the oir, and by susp«nding the pot by a string from above, over a small blaze, the object is attained, without that extraordinary expenditure of wood, which, to the perfect amazement of the Indian, characterizes the emigrant's roaring fire of logs. The few fields which the Indians have cleared and prepared for corn fields, in northern latitudes, are generally to be traced to some adventitious opening, and have been enlarged very slowly. Hence, I have observed, that when t ey have come to be appraised, to fix their value as improvements upon the land, under treaty provisions, that the amount thereof may be paid the PERSONAL INCIDENTS AND IMPRESSIONS. 77 otvner, they havo uniformly set a high estimate upon these ancient clear* mgs, and sometimes regarded their value, one would think, in the inverse proportion of these limits. As if, indeed, there were some merit, in having but half an acre of cleared ground, where, it might be supposed, the owner would have cultivated ten acres. And this half acre, is to be regarded as the industrial sum of the agricuhurul labours of all ages and sexes, during perhaps, ten generations. Could the whole of this physical effort, there- fore, be traced to female hands, which is doubtful, for the old men and boys, will often do something, it would not be a very severe imposition. There is at least, a good deal, it is believed, in this view of the domestic condition of the women to mitigate the severity of judgment, with which the proud and labour-hating hunter, has sometimes been visited. He has. in our view, the most important part of the rekiivcj duties of Indian life, to sustain. In the lodge he is a mild, considerate man, of the non-interfering and non-scolding species. He may indeed, be looked upon, rather as the guest of his wife, than what he is often represented to be, her tyrant, and he is often only known as the lord of the lodge, by the attention and res- pect which she shows to him. He is a man of few words. If her temper is ruffled, he smiles. If he is displeased, he walks away. It is a pro- vince in which his actions acknowledge her right to rule ; and it is one, in which his pride and manliness have exalted him above the folly of al- tercation. : ^'1 THE MANITO TREE. There is a prominent hill in the vicinity of Sault Ste. Marie, at the ou»- let of luko Superior, called by the French La Butte des Tents. An In- dian footpath formerly connected this hill with the old French scttlenrjcnt at those /iills, from which it is distant about a mila. In the intermediate apace, near the path, there formerly stood a tree, a large mountain ash, from which, Indian tradition says, there issued a sound, resembling that produced by their own war-drums, during one of the most culm and cloudless days. This occurred long before the French appeared in the country. It was consequently regarded as the local residence of a spirit, and deemed sacred. * From that time they began to deposit at its foot, an offering of small green twigs and boughs, wi)cnever they passed the path, so that, in pro cess of lime, a high pile of these offerings of the forest was accumulated It seemed as if, by this procedure, the other trees had each made an offer ing to this tree. At length the tree blew down, during a violent storm and has since entirely decayed, but the spot was recollected and the offer ings kept up, and they would have been continued to the present hour had not an accidental circumstance put a stop to it. In the month of July 18'^2, the government sent a military force to take post, at that ancient point of French settlement, at the foot of the falls, and one of the first acts of the commanding officer was to order out a fatigue party to cut a wagon road from the selected site of the post to the hill. This road was directed to be cut sixty feet wide, and it passed over the site of the tree. The pile of offerings was thus removed, without the men's knowing that it ever had had a superstitious origin ; and thus the practice itself came to an end. I had landed with the troops, and been at the place but nine days, in the exercise of my appropriate duties as an Agent on the part of the government to the tribe, when this trait of character was men- tioned to me, and I was thus made personally acquainted with the locality, the cutting of the road, and the final extinction of the rite. Our Indians are rather prone to regard the coming of the white man, as, fulfilling certain obscure prophecies of their own priests ; and that they arO; at best, harbingers of evil to them ; and with their usual belief in fatal.'ty, they tacitly drop such rites as the foregoing. They can excuse themselves to their consciences in such cases, in relinquishing the wor- ship of a local manito, by saying: Jt is the tread of the white man that has desecrated the ground. 78 I TALES OF A WIGWAM. THE WHITE STONE CA]JOE. ^ Thkre was once a very beautiful young girl, wjio died suddenly on the day she was to have been married to a handsome young man. He was also bravo, but his heart was not proof against this loss. From the hour she was buried, there was no more joy or peace for him. He went often to visit the spot where the women had buried her, and sat musing there, when, it was thought, by some of his friends, he would have done better to try to amuse himself in the chase, or by diverting his thoughts in the war-path. But war and hunting had both lost their charms for him. His heart was already dead within him. He pushed aside both his war-club and his bow and arrows. He had heard the old people say, that there was a path, that led to the land of souls, and he determined to follow it. He accordingly set out, one morning, after having completed his preparations for the journey. At first he hardly knew which way to go. He was only guided by the tradition that he must go south. For a while, he could see no change in the face of the country. Forests, and hills, and vallies, and streams had the same looks, which they wore in his native place. There was snow on the ground, when he set out, and it was sometimes seen to be piled and matted on the thick trees and bushes. At length, it began to dimin- ish, and finally disappeared. The forest assumed a more cheerful ap- pearance, the leaves put forth their buds, and before he was aware of the completeness of the change, he found himself surrounded by spring, He had left behind him the land of snow and ice. The air became mild, the dark clouds of winter had rolled away from the sky ; a pure field of blue was above him, and as he went he saw flowers beside his path, and heard the songs of birds. By these signs he knew that he was going the right way, for they agreed with the traditions of his tribe. At length he spied a path. It led him through a grove, then up a long and elevated ridge, on the very top of which he came to a lodge. At the door stood an old man, with white hair, whose eyes, though deeply sunk, had a fiery brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins thrown loosely around his shoulders, and a staff in his hands. _ ' 79 80 THE WHITE STONE CANOE. The youno- Chippewayan began to tell his story ; but the venerable chief arrested him befoni he had proceeded to speak ten words. I li.ive expected yoii, he replied, and had just risen to bid you we.'come to my abode. She, wnom you seek, passed here but a few days since, and being fatigued with her journey, rested herself here. Enter vr>y lodge and be seated, and I will then satisfy your enquiries, and give you directions for your journey from this point. Having done this, they both issued forth to the lodge door. "You see yonder gulf, said he, and the wide stretching blue plains be yond. It is the land of souls. You stand upon its borders, and my lodge is the ffate of entrance. But you cannot take your body along. Leave it here with your ha/k and arrow:, your bundle and your dog. You will find them safe on your return." So saying, he re-entered the lodge, and the freed traveller bounded forward, as if his feet had suddenly been endow- ed with the power of wings. But all things retained their natural colours and shapes. The woods and leaves, and streams and lakes, were only more bright and comely than he had ever witnessed. Animals bounded across his path with a freedom and a confidence which seemed to tell him, there was no blood shed here. Birds of beautiful plumage inhabit- ed the groves, an i sported in the waters. There was but one t'ling, in which he saw a very unusual effect. He noticed that his passage was not stopped by trees or other objects. He appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in fact, but the souls or shadows of material trees. He became sensible that he, was in a land of shadows. When he had travelled half a day's journey, through a country which was con- tinually becoming more attractive, he came to the banks of a broad lake, in the centre of which was a large and beautiful is'ind. He found a canoe of shining white stone, tied to the^hore. He was now sure that he had come the right path, for the aged man had told him of this. There were also shinmg paddles. He immediately entered the canoe, and took the paddles in his hands, when to hij joy and surprise, on turning round, he beheld the object of his search in another canoe, exactly its counter- part in every thing. She had exactly imitated his motions, and they were side by side. They at once pushed out from shore and began to cross the lake. Its waves seemed to be rising and at a distance looked ready to swallow them up; but just as they entered the whitened edge of them they seemed to melt away, as if they were but the images of waves. But no sooner was one wreath of foam passed, than another, more threaten- ing still, ro.se up. Thus they were in perpetual fear; and what added to it, was the clearness of the water, through which they could see heaps of beings who hid perished before, and whose bones laid strewed on the bottom of the lake. The Master of Life had, however, decreed to let them pass, for the actions of neither of them had been bad. But they saw many others stniirgling and sinking in the waves. Old men and young men, males and females of all o'^es ard ranks, were there; some passed, and I 4i THE WHITE STONE CANOE. 81 some sank. It was only the little children whose canoes seemed to meet no waves. At length, every difficulty was gone, as in a moment, and they both leapt out on the happy island. They felt that the very air was food. It strengthened and nourished them. They wandered to- gether over the blissful fields, where every thing was formed to please the eye and the ear. There were no tempests — there was no ice, no chilly winds — no one shivered for the want of warm clothes: no one suffered for hunger — no one mourned for the dead. They saw no graves. They heard of no wars. There was no hunting of animals ; for the air itself was their food. Gladly would the young warrior have remained there forever, but he was obliged to go back for his body. He did not see the Master of Life, but he heard his voice in a soft breeze: "Go back, said this voice, to the land from whence you came. Your time has not yet come. The duties for which I made you, and Avhich you are to per- form, are not yet finished. Return to your people, and accomplish the duties of a good man. You will be the ruler of your tribe for many days. The rules you must observe, will be told you by my messenger, who keeps the gate. When he surrenders back your body, he will tell you what to do. Listen to him, and you shall afterwards rejoin the spirit, which you must now leave behind. She is accepted and will be ever here, as young and as happy as she was when I first called her from the land of snows." When this voice ceased, the narrator awoke. It was the fancy work of a dream, and he was still in the bitter land of snows, snd hunger and tears. THE LYNX AND THE HARE, A FALLE FROM THE OJIBWA-ALGONQUIN. A LYNX almost famished, met a hare one day in the woods, in the winter season, but the hare was separated from its enemy by a rock, upon which It stood. The lynx began to speak to it in a very kind manner. " Wa- bose ! Wabose •" * said he, " come here my little white one, I wish to talk to you." " O no," said the hare, " I. am afraid of you, and my mother told me never to go and talk with strangers." " You are very pretty," replied the lynx, " and a very obedient child to your parents ; but you must know that I am a relative of yours ; I wish to send some word to your lodge ; come down and see me." The hare was pleased to be called pretty, and when she heard that it was a relative, she jumped down from the place where she stood, and immediately the lynx pounced upon her and tore her to pieces. ,i • Tliis word appears to be a derivation from th« radix Wawb, white, nation in o is the objective sign. The term is made diminutive in a. 6 The termi- THE WORSHIP OF THE SUN. AN OTTOWA TRADITION, A LONG time ago, there lived an aged Odjibwa and his wife, on tha shores of Lake Huron. They had an only son, a very beautiful boy, whose name was 0-na-wut-a-qut-o, or he that catches the clouds. Th« family were of the totem of the beaver. The parents were very proud of him, and thought to make him a celebrated m»«, but when he reached the proper age, he would not submit to the We-koon-de-win, or fast. V/hen this time arrived, they gave him char-vjal, instead of his brenkfast, but he would not blacken his face. If they denied him food, he would seek for birds' eggs, along the shore, or pick up the heads of fish that had been cast away, and broil them. One day, they took away violently the food he had thus prepared, and cast him some coals in place of it. This act brought him to a decision. He took the coals and blackened his face, and went rut of the lodge. He did not return, but slept without; and during the night, he had a dream. He dreamed that he saw a very beautiful female come down from the clouds and stand by his side. "O- no-wut-a-qut-o," said she, "I am come for you — step in my tracks." The young man did so, and presently felt himself ascending above the tops of the trees — he mounted up, step by step, into the air, and through the clouds. His guide, at length, passed through an orifice, and he, following her, found himself standing on a beautiful plain. A path led to a splendid lodge. He followed her into it. It was large, and divided into two parts. On one end he saw bows and arrows, clubs and spears, and various warlike implements tipped with silver. On the other end, were things exclusively belonging to females. This was the home of his fair guide, and he saw that she had, on the frame, a broad rich belt, of many colours, which she was weaving. She said to him: "My brother is coming and I must hide you." Putting him in one cor- ner, she spread the bek over him. Presently the brother came in, very richly dressed, and shining as if he had had points of silver all over him. He took down from the wall a splendid pipe, together with his sack of a- pa-ko-ze-gun, or smoking mixture. When he had finished regaling him- self in this way, and laid his pipe aside, he said to his sister : " Nemissa,' (which is, my elder sister,) "when will you quit these practices? Do you forget that the Greatest of the Spirits has commanded that you should not 82 THE WORSHIP OP THE SUN. S3 take away the children from below? Perhaps you suppose that you have concealed 0-na-wut-a-qut-o, but do I not know of his coming? If you would not offend me, send him back immediotely." But this address did not alter her purpose. 3he would not send him back. Finding that she was purposed in her mind, he then spoke to the young lad, and called him from his hiding place. "Come out of your concealment," said he, "and walk about and amuse yourself You will grow hungry if you remain there." He then prr^ented him a bow and arrovvs, and a pipe of red stone, richly ornamented. This was taken as the word of consent to his mar- riage ; so the two were considered husband and wife from that time 0-no-wut-a-qut-o found every thing exceedingly fair and beautiful around him, but he found no inhabitants except her brother. There were flowers on the plains. There were bright and sparkling streams. There were green vallies and pleasant trees. There were gay birds and beautiful animals, but they were not such as he had been accustomed to see. There was also day and night, as on the earth ; but he observed that every morn- ing the brother regularly left the lodge, and remained absent all day ; and every evening the sister departed, though it was commonly but for a part of the niarht. ii» «'>uno8ity was aroused to solve this mystery. He obtained the brothe/> consent to accompany him in one of his daily journies. They travelled vfer a smooth plain, withotit boundaries, until 0-no-wut-a-qut-o felt the gnawin^s of appetite, and asked his companion if there were no game. "Patieiv'-e! my brother," said he, "we shall soon reach the spot where I eat my 4mner, and you will then see how I am provided." After walking on a long time, they came to a place which was spread over with fine mats, where they sat -iown to refresh themselves. There was, at this place, a hole through the sky : and O-no-wut-a-out o, looked down, at the bidding of his companion, '■■oon the earth. He sa'v below the great lakes, and the villages of the Ind.-^ns. In one place, he .'".u, a war party steal- ing on the carap of their enemies. In another, iie sa^ • ; rastiog and dancing. On a green plain, young men were engaged a* ball. Along a stream, women were employed in gathering the a-pukv/a for mats. "Do you see," said the brother, "that grr*!, of' children piayin.o beside a lodge. Observe that beautiful and active boy," said he, at the same time darting something at him, from his hand. The child ii!nnedi.''Uelv fell, and was carried into the lodge. They looked again, and saw the people gathering abou .c lodge. They heard the she-she-gwan of the meeta, and the song he sung, asking that the child's life might be spared. To this request, the comnanion of 0-no-wut-a-qut-o made answer — "send me up the sacrifice of a white dog." Immediately a feast was ordered by the parents of the child, the ^^hite dog was killed, his carcass was roasted, and all the wise men and medicine men of the village assembled to witness the ceremony " There are many fl « ifl 1] Sl^ THE WORSHIP OF THE SUN. below," continued the voice of the brother, "whom you callgreit in med- ical skill but it is because their ears are open, and tbey listen to my voice that they are able to succeed. When I have struck one with sick- ness, they direct the people to look to me: and when they send me the offering I ask, I remove my hand from off them, and they are well." After he had said thi?, th./ saw the sacrifice parcelled out in dishes, for those who were at the feast. The master of the feast then said, "wc send this to thee, Great Manito," and immediately the roasted animal came up. Thus their dinner was supplied, and after they had eaten, they returned to the lodge by another way. After this manner they lived for some time; but the place became wearisome at last. 0-no-wut-a-qut-o thought of his friends, and wished to go back to them. He had not forgotten his native village, and his father's lodge ; and he asked leave of his wife, to return. At length she consented. " Since you are better pleased," she replied, with the cares and the ills, and the poverty of the Avorld, than with the peaceful delights of the sky, and its boundless prairies, go! I give you permission, and since I have brought you hither, I will conduct you back; but re- member, you are still my husband, I hold a chain in my hand by which I can draw you back, whenever I will. My power over you is not, in any manner, diminished. Beware, therefore, how you venture to take a wife among the people below. Should you ever do so, it is then that you shah feel the force of my displeasure." As she said this, her eyes sparkled — she raised herself slightly on her toes, and stretched herself up, with a majestic air; and at that moment, O no-wut-a-quto awoke from his dream. He found himself on the ground, near his father's lodge, at the very spot where he had laid himself down to fast. Instead of the bright beings of a higher world, he found himself surrounded by his parents and relatives. His mother told him he had been absent a year. The change was so great, that he remained for some time moody and abstracted, but by degrees, he recovered his spirits. He began to doubt the reality of all he had heard and seen above. At last, he forgot the admonitions of his spouse, and married a beautiful young woman of his own tribe. But within four days, she was a corpse. Even the fearful admonition was lost, and he repeated the offence by a second marriage. Soon afterwards, he went out of the lodge, one night, but never returned. It was believed that his wife had recalled him to the region of the clouds, where the tradition asserts, he still dwells, and walks on the daily rounds, which he once witnessed. The native tribes are a people without ma.\ims : One of the few which have been noticed is this : Do not tell a story in the summer ; if you do, the toads will visit you. SHINGEBISS. >g ph 10, ,>l THE ODJIBWA-ALGONQUIN, There was once a Shingebiss, [the name of a kind of duck] living alone, in a solitary lodge, on the shores of the deep bay of a lake, in the coldest winter weather. The ice had formed on the water, and he had but four logs of wood to keep his fire. Each of these, would, however, burn a month, and as there were but four cold winter months, they were sulHcient to carry him through till spring. Shingebiss was hardy and fearless, an'' cared for no one. He would go out during the coldest day, and seek for places where flags and rushes grew through the ice, and plucking them up with his bill, would dive *hrough the openings, in quest of fish. In this way he found plenty of food, while others were starving, and he went home daily to his lodge, dragging strings of fish after him, on the ice. Kabebonicca * observed him, and felt a little piqued at his perseverance and good luck in defiance of the severest blasts of wind he could send from the ncrlhwest. " Why ! this is a wonderful man," said he ; " he does not mind the cold, and appears as happy and consented, as if it were the month of June. I will try, whether he cannot be mastered." He poured forth ten-fold colder blasts, and drifts of snow, so that it was next to impos- sible to live in the open air. Still the fire of Shingebiss did not go out : he wore but a single strip of leather around his body, and he was seen, in the worst weather, searching the shores for rushes, and carrying home fish. " I shall go and visit him," said Ktibebonicca, one day, as he saw Shin- gebiss dragging along a quantity of fish. And accordingly, that very night, he went to the door of his lodge. Meantime Shingebiss had cooked his fish, and finished his meal, and was lymg, partly on his side, before the fiio singing his songs. After Kabebonicca had come to the door, and stood listening there, he sang as follows : Ka Neej Ka Neej Be In Be In Bon In . Bon In Oc Ee. Oc Ee. m We-ya! Cft We-ya ! The number of words, in this song, are few and simple, but they are made up from compounds wliich carry the whole of their original mean- ings, and are rather suggestive of the ideas floating in the mind, than actual expressions of those ideas. Literally he sings : Spirit of the North West — you are but my fellow man. * A personitioation of the North West 86 -f i 86 SBINGERISS. By being broken into syllables, to correspond with a simple chant, nnd by the power of intonation and repetition, with a chorus, these words are expanded into melodious utterance, if we may be allowed the term, and may be thus rendered : Windy god, I know your plan, You are but my fellow man. Blow you may your coldest breeze, Shingebiss you cannot freeze. Sweep the strongest wind you can, Shingebiss is still your man, Heigh I for life — and ho ! for bliss. Who so free as Shingebiss ? The hunter knew that Kabebonicca was at his door, for he feh his cold anc* strong breath ; but he kept on singing his songs, and affected utter indilierence. At length Kabebonicca entered, and took his seat on the opposite side of the lodge. But Shingebiss did not regard- or notice him. ti(? got up, as if nobody were present, and taking his poker, pushed the bg, which made his fire burn brighter, repeating as he sat down agtiin : You are but my fellow man. '/fTy soon the tears began tq^flow down Kabebonicca's cheeks, which increased so fast, that, presently, he said to himself, " I cannot stand this — I must go out." He did so, and left Shingebiss to his songs ; but resolved to freeze up all the flag orifices, and make the ice thick, so that he could not get any more fish. Still Shingebiss, by dint of great diligence, found means to pull up new roots, and dive under for fish. At last Kabebon- icca was compelled to give up the contest. " He must be aided by some Monedo," said he, '' I can neither freeze him, nor starve him, he is a very singular being — I will let him alone." The mtroduction of the Saxon race into North America, has had three determined opponents, the life of each of whom forms u distinct era. They were Powhatan, Metakom, and Pontiac. Each pursued the same method to accomplish his end, and each was the indominitable foe of the race. — Sassaci!s ought, perhaps, to l.> add. 1 to the number. Brant, was but a partisan, imd fought for orie branch, against another. Tecumseh, was also, rather the foe of the Aiaerican type of the race, than the whole race. The same can be said of lesser men, such as Little Turtle, Buckanjaheela, and Black Hawk. Uncas was also a partisan, not a hater of the white race, and like Waub Ojeeg in the north, fought, that one tribe might prevail over another. If the Saxon race profited by this, he rould not help it. Tuscaloosa fought for his tribe's supremacy ; Osceola fo? revenge. 4 EARLY INDIAN BIOGRAPHY. t PISKARET. There lived a noted chief on the north banks of the St. Lawrence in .he latter part of the 16th century, who was called by the Iroquois, Piskaret, but the true pronunciation of whose name, by his own people, was Bisco- nace, or the Little Blaze. Names are often arbitrarily bestowed by the Indians, from some trivial circumstance in domestic life, or hunting, as mere nick names, which take the place of the real names : for it is a prac- tice among this people to conceal their real names, from a subtle, supersti- tious notion, that, if so known, they will be under the power of priestly incantation, or some other evil influence. What the real name of this man was, if it differed from the above, is not known, as this was his only appellation. He was an Adirondak : that is to say, one of the race of people who were called Adirondaks by the Iroquois, but Algonquins by the French. And as the Algonquins and Iroquois, had lately became deadly enemies and were so then, the distinction to which Bisconace rose, was in the conducting of the war which his peo- ple waged against the Iroquois, or Five Nations. It seems, from the accounts of both English and French authors, that the Algonquins, at the period of the first settlement of the St. Lawrence, were by far the most advanced in arts and knowledge, and most distin- guished for skill in war and hunting, of all the nations in North America. This at least is certain, that no chief, iir or near, enjoyed as high a repu- tation for daring valor and skill as Bis 'onace. He is spoken of in this light by all who name him ; he was so lerce, subtle and indomitable that he became the terror of his enemies, who were startled at the very mention of his name. Bisconace lived on the north banks of the St. Law- rence, below Montreal, and carried on his wars against the Indians inhabit- ing the northern parts of the present state of New York, often proceeding by the course of the River Sorel. The period of \\u\ Adinniihik supremacy, embraced the close of the l5th century and the brgiiuiiiiji of ihu lOth, and at this time the people be- gan to derive great power nml liulilucss, iVnin llio possession of fire arms, with which tho Frt'iioh supplied thoin, before their southern and western neighlm\iis cauie to participate in this great improveniont, this striking era of tlio Red man, in the art of war. Colden is thought to be a little out, in the great estimate he furnishes of the power, influence, and advfinces of this great family of the Red Race. The French naturally puffed them up a good deal ; but we may admit that they were most expert Avarriors, and hunters, and manufactured arms and canoes, with great skill. They I %l ! . « Ai!ordL =; of Lake Ontario. The pre- sent Wyandots and Senecas are the reinai f this community, and of the cause of their separation and of the i . ss hostilities by which it was succeeded, the following details are given in the traditionary history of the Wyandots. A Wyandot girl, whose name for the sake of distinction shall be Oon- pay-slee, and in whom appeared united a rare combination of moral attrac- tions', and of e.xtraordinary personal beauty, had for her suitors, nearly all the young men of her tribe. As insensible however, as beautiful, the attentions of her lovers were productive of no favorable effect, for though none were rejected, yet neither was any one distinguished by her partiality. This unaccountable apathy became, in time, a subject not only of general, but of common interest to the young Wyandots. A council composed of those interested in the issue of these many and importunate applications for her favor, was held for the purpose of devising some method, by which her intentions in relation to them might be ascertained. At this, when these amourists had severally conceded, each, that he could boast of no in- dication of a preference shown by Oon-yay-stee to himself, upon which to found a reasonable hope of ultimately succeeding, it was finally deter- mined, that their claims should be withdrawn in favor of the War Chief of their lodge. This was adopted, not so much for the purpose of advan cing the interests of another to the prejudice of their own, as to avoid the humiliating alternative of yielding the object of so much competition to some more fortunate rival not connected with their band. It may be here necessary to remark that nearly all the suitors belonged to one lodge, and that each of these was a large oblong building, capable of containing 20 or 30 families, the domestic arrangements of which were regulated by a war chief, acknowledged as the head of that particular sub- ordinate band. Many objections to the task imposed on him by this proposition were 91 ! "J T V, iMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 128 ISO ■2.5 ^ m 12.2 ■ip iWlZO i LLi |l.25 |||U ,,,.6 ^ 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 873-4503 4r • t 98 HISTORICAL TRADITIONS. interposed by the chief, the principal of which were, the great disparity of age and the utter futility of any further attempt, upon the affections of one so obdurate of heart. The first was obviated by some well applied com- mendations of his person, and the second yielded to the suggestion that women were oflen capricious, were not always influenced by considera- tions the most natural, or resolvable to reasons the most obvious. The chief then painted and arrayed himself as for battle, bestowing some little additional adornment upon his person, to aid him in this species of warfare, with which he was pot altogether so familiar as that in which he had acquired his reputation ; his practice having been confined rather to the use of stone-headed arrows than love darts, and his dexterity in the management of hearts displayed rather in making bloody incisions, than tender impressions. Before he lefl the lodge, his retainers pledged them- selves, that if the prosecution of this adventure should impose upon their chief the necessity of performing any feat, to render him better worthy the acceptance of Oon-yay-stee, they would aid hun in its accomplishment, and sustain him against its consequences to the last extremity. It was re- served for so adventurous a spirit that it should be as successful in love, as it had hitherto been resistless in war. After a courtship of a few days, he proposed himself and was condition- ally accepted, but what the nature of this condition was, further than that it was indispensable, Oon-yay-stee refused to tell him, until he should have given her the strongest assurances that it should be complied with. Afler some hesitation and a consultation with the lovers who urged him to give the promise, he declared himself ready to accept the terms of the compact. Under her direction he then pledged the word of a warrior, that neither peril to person, nor sacrifice of affection should ever prevail with him to desist, imprecating the vengeance of Hau-men-dee-zhoo, and the persecution of Dairk-shoo-oo-roo-no upon his head if he failed to prosecute to the uttermost, the enterprise, if its accomplishment were only possible. She told him to bring her the scalp of a Seneca chief whom she desig- nated, who for some reason she chose not to reveal, was the object of her hatred. The Wyandot saw too late, that he was committed. He besought her to reflect, that this man was his bosom friend, they had eaten and drank and grown up together — and how heavy it would make his heart to think that his friend had perished by his hand. He remonstrated with her on the cruelty of such a requisition, on the infamy of such an outrage of con- fidence and the execration which would forever pursue the author of an action so accursed. But his expostulations were made to deaf ears. She told him either to redeem his pledge, or consent to be proclaimed for a lying dog, whose promisej were unworthy ever to be heard, and then lefl him. '■'"■ ^ h ai n 1( a n a e a I HISTORICAL TRADITIONS. 93 An hour had hardly elapsed, before the infuriated Wyandot blackened his fkce, entered the Seneca Village, tomahawked and scalped his friend, and an he rushed out of the lodge shouted the scalp-whoop. In the dark- ness of the night his person could not be distinguished, and he was chal- lenged by a Seneca to whom he gave his name, purpose, and a defiance and then continued his flight. But before it had terminated, the long mournful scalp-whoop of the Senecas was resounding through the Wy- andot Village ; and the chief had hardly joined in the furious conflict thit ensued between the avengers of his murdered victim and his own retain- ers, before he paid with his life the forfeit of his treachery. After a deadly and sustained combat for three days and nights, with alternate success, the Wyandots were compelled to retire, deserting their village and abandoning their families to such mercy as might be granted by an infuriated enemy. Those who were left, sunk under the tomahawk and scalping knife — ^the village was devastated — and the miserable author of the bloody tragedy herself perished amid this scene of indiscriminate slaughter and desolation. This war is said to have continued for a period of more than 30 years, in which time, the Wyandots had been forced backwards as far as Lakes Huron and Michigan. Here they made an obstinate stand, from which all the efforts of their relentless enemies to dislodge them were ineflfectual. Their inveterate hatred of each other was fostered by the war parties of the respective tribes, whose vindictive feelings led them to hunt and de- stroy each other, like so many beasts of the forest. These resulted gene- rally in favor of the Wyandots, who, inspirited by these partial successes, prepared for more active operations. Three encounters took place, on the same day, two being had on Lake Michigan and one on Lake Erie, and which from their savage and exterminating character, closed this long and merciless contest. It is somewhat remarkable, as no other tradition makes mention of an Indian battle upon water, that one of these, said to have occurred on Lake Erie, between Long Point and Fort Talbot, was fought in canoes. Of this the following detail is given. A large body of Wyandots accompanied by two Ottawas left Lake Hu- ron in birch canoes, on a war excursion into the country of the Senecas, who had settled at this time, near the head of the Niagara river. They put ashore at Long Point to cook, when one of the Ottawas and a Wyan- dot were sent out as spies to reconnoitre. They had proceeded but a short distance from the camp, when they met two Senecas, who had been de- spatched by their party for the like purposes, and from whom they instantly fled. The Ottawa finding his pursuers gaining upon him, hid himself in the branches of a spruce tree, where he remained till the Seneca had passed. The Wyandot, fleeter of foot, succeeded in reaching his camp and gave the alarm, when the whole body embarked and pushed out intc the lake. In another moment a party of Senecas was discovered, turnia 94 EARLY SKETCHES OP INDIAN WOMEN. the nearest point of land in wooden canoes. Immediately the war-whoops were sounded and the hostile bands began to chant their respective songs. As they slowly approached each other, the Wyandots struck a fire, and prepared their gum and bark to repair any damage which might occur to the canoes. The battle was fought with bows and arrows, and after a furious and obstinate contest of some hours, in which the carnage was dreadful, and the canoes were beginning to fill with blood, water and man* gled bodies, the Senecas began to give way. The encouraged W^yandots fought with redoubled ardor, driving the Senecas to the shore, where the conflict was renewed with unabated fury. The Wyandots were victorious, and few of the surviving Senecas escaped to tell the story of their defeat. One of the prisoners, a boy, was spared and adopted by the nation. Two Wyandots are now living who profess to have seen him, when very fai advanced in years. The two other attacks to which allusion has been made, as occurring on the borders of Lake Michigan, were not more fortunate in their issue. The Senecas were repulsed with great slaughter. Thus, say the Wyandots, originated this long, bloody and disastrous war, and thus it terminated after proving nearly the ruin of our nation. HO-TSHUNQ-RAH. Upper Sandusky, March 1st, 1827. e' EARLY SKETCHES OF INDIAN WOMEN. / The oldest books we possess written by the first observers of our In* dians abound in interest. Among these is a small work by William Wood, who visited Plymouth and Massachusetts soon after their settlement, and published his '•^ New England! s Pro omitted short and unimportant passages in a few places, marked with asterisks. E, -»t -■,. ■., : -'z i ,,v ■■fJ 'W, I ■ WASBASHAS; OE, THE TRIBE THAT GREW OUT OF A SHELL vi , AN OSAGE LEGEND. v >^ There was a snail living on the banks of the river Missouri, where he found plenty of food, and wanted nothing. But at length the waters be* gan to rise and overflow its banks, and although the little animal clung to a.log, the flood carried them both away : they floated along for many days. When the water fell, the poor snail was left in the mud and slime^ on shore. The heat of the sun came out so strong, that he was soon fixed in the slime and could not stir. He could no longer get any nourish- ment He became oppressed with heat and drought. He resigned him- self to his fate and prepared to die. But all at once, he felt a renewed vigour. His shell burst open, and he began to rise. His head gradually rose above the ground, he felt his lower extremities assuming the charac- ter of feet and legs. Arms extended from his sides.. He felt their ex- tremities divide into fingers. In fine he rose, under the influence of one day's sun, into a tall and noble man. For a while he remained in a dull L.nd stupid state. He had but little activity, and no clear thoughts. These all came by degrees, and when his recollections returned, he re- solved to travel back to his native land. But he was naked and ignorant. The first want he felt was hunger. He saw beasts and birds, as he walked along, but he knew not how to kill them. He wished himself again a snail, for he knew how, in that form, to get his food. At length he became so weak, by walking and fasting, that he laid himself down, on a grassy bank, to die. He had not laid long, when he heard a voice calling him by name. " Was-bas-has," exclaimed the voice. He looked up, and beheld the Great Spirit sitting on a white horse. His eyes glistened like stars. The hair of his head shone like the sun. He could not bear to look upon him. He trembled from head to foot. Again the voice spoke to him in a mild tone* is-bas-has I Why do you look terrified ?" " I tremble," he replied, because 1 stand before Him who raised me from the ground. I am faint 95 t( 96 WA8BASHA8. and hungry) — I i^^ye eaten nothing since the floods left me upon the shore -a little shell." The Great Spirit here lifted up his hands and displaying a how and arrows, told him to look at him. At a distance sat a bird on a tree. He put an arrow to the string, and pulling it with ft)rce, brought down the beautiful object. At this moment a deer came in sight. He placed ano- ther arrow to the string, and pierced it through and through. " These" said he, "are your ft)od, and these are your arms," handmg him the bdw and arrows. He then instructed him how to remove the skin of the deer, and prepare it for a garment. " You are naked," said he, " and must be clothed ; it is now warm, but the skies will change, and bring rains, and snow, and cold winds." Having said this, he also imparted the gift of fire, and instructed him how to roast the flesh. He then placed a collar of wampum around his neck. " This," said he, " is your authority over all beasts." Having done this, both horse and rider rose up, and vanished from his sight. Was-bas-has refreshed himself, and now pursued his way to his native land. He had seated himself on the banks of the river, and was medita- ting on what had passed, when a large beaver rose up from the channel and addressed him. " Who art thou ;" said the beaver, " that comest here to disturb my ancient reign ?" "la m a man" he replied ; " I was once a shelly a creeping shell ; but who art thou ?" " I am king of the nation of beavers," he answered : " I lead my people up and down this stream ; we are a busy people, and the river is my dominion." " I must divide it with you," re- torted Was-bas-has. " The Great Spirit has placed me at the head of beasts and birds, fishes and fowl ; and has provided me with the power of maintaining my rights." Here he held up the bow and arrows, and displayed the collar of shells around his neck. " Come, come," said the Beaver, modifying his tone, " I perceive we are brothers. — Walk with me to my lodge, and refresh yourself after your journey," and so saying he led the way. The Snail-Man willingly obeyed his invitation, and had no reason to repent ol nis confidence. They soon entered a fine large vil* lage, and his host led him to the chiefs lodge. It was a well-built room, of a cone-shape, and the floor nicely covered with mats. As soon as they were seated, the Beaver directed his wife and daughter to prepare food for their guest. While this was getting ready, the Beaver chief thought he would improve his opportunity by making a fast friend of so superior a being ; whom he saw, at the same time, to be but a novice. He informed him of the method they had of cutting down trees, with their teeth, and of felling them across streams, so as to dam up the water, and de- scribed the method of finishing their dams with leaves and clay. He also instructed him in the way of erecting lodges, and with other wise and seasonable conversation beguiled the time. His wife and daughter now entered, bringmg in rsssat of fresh peeled poplar, and willow, and sassa* \i. Inuian Maiden i \'. ORIGIN OF THE DOEMOVSE. 97 fras, and alder bark, which is the most choice food known to them. Of this, Was-bas-has made a merit of tasting, while his entertainer devoured 't with pleasure. He was pleased with the modest looks and deportment of .he chiefs daughter, and her cleanly and neat attire, and her assiduous attention to the commands of her father. This was ripened into esteem by the visit he made her. A mutual attachment ensued. A union was proposed to the father, who was rejoiced to find so advantageous a match for his daughter. A great feast was prepared, to which all the beavers, and other animals on good terms with them, were invited. The Snail- Man and the Beaver-Maid were thus united, and this union is the origin oftheOsages. So it is said by the old people. 1 THE BOY WHO SET A SNARE FOR THE SUN; oa -. 1 THE OMQIN OF THE KUG-E-BEENG-WA-KWA,* OR DORMOUSE. FROM THE ODJIBWA ALGONQUIN. At the time when the animals reigned in the earth, they had killed ^^.U but a girl, and her little brother, and these two were living in fear aiid se- clusion. The boy was a perfect pigmy, and never grew beyond the stature of a small infant ; but the girl increased with her years, so that the labor of providing food and lodging devolved wholly on her. She went out daily to get wood for their lodge-fire, and took her little brother along that no accident might happen to him ; for he was too littlo to leave alone. A big bird might have flown away with him. She made him a bow and arrowa, and said to him one day, " I will leave you behind where I have been chopping — you must hide yourself, and you will soon see the Git- shee-gitshee-gaun, ai see-ug or snow birds, come and pick the worms out of the wood, where I have been chopping," (for it was in the winter.) " Shoot one of them and bring it home." He obeyed her, and tried his best to kill one, but came home unsuccessful. She told him he must not despair, but try again the next day. She accordingly left him at the place she got wood, and returned. Towards nightfall, she heard his little footsteps on the snow, and he came in exultingly, and threw down one of the birds, which he had killed. " My sister," said he, " I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and when I have killed more, I will have a coat made out of them." " But what shall we do with the body ?" said she : for as yet men had not begun to eat animal food, but lived on vegetables alcne. " Cut it in two " he answered, " and season our pottage wiUi one half of it • Blind Woman. 7 4 "$■ 98 ORIGIN OF THE DORMOVSK. at a time." She did so. The boy, who was of a very smaU stature, coH' tinued his efforts, and succeeded in kiliing ten birds, out of the skins of which his sister made him a little coat. "Sister," said he one day, "are we all alone in the world ? Is there nobody else living?" She told him that those they feared and who had destroyed their relatives lived in a certain quarter, and that he must by no means go in that direction. This only served to inflame his curiosity and rai^e his ambition, and he soon after took his bow and arrows and went in that direction. After walking a long time and meeting nothing, he became tired, and lay down on a knoll, where the sun had melted the snow. He fell fast asleep ; and while sleeping, the sun beat so hot upon him, that it singed and drew up his bird-skin coat, so that when he awoke and stretched himself, he felt bound in it, as it were. He looked down and saw the damage done to his coat. He flew into a passion and upbraided the sun, and vowed vengeance against it. " Do not think you are too high," said he, *' I shall reverge myself." On coming home he related his disaster to his sister, and lamented bit- terly the spoiling of his coat. He would not eat. He lay down as one that fasts, and did not stir, or move his position for ten days, though she tried all she could to arouse him. At the end of ten days, he turned over, and then lay ten days on the other side. When he got up, he told his sister to make him a snare, for he meant to catch the sun. She said she had nothing ; but finally recollected a little piece of dried deer's sinew, that her father had left, which she soon made ioto a string suitable for a noose. But the moment she showed it to him, he told her it would not do, and bid her get something else. She said she had nothing — nothing at all. At last she thought of her hair, and pulling some of it out of her head, made a string, ^t he instantly said it would not answer, and bid her, pettishly, and with authority, make him a noose. She told him there was nothing to make it of, and went out of the lodge. She said to her- self, when she had got without the lodge, and while she was all alone, " neow obewy indapin." This she did, and twisting them into a tiny cord she handed it to her brother. The moment he saw this curious braid he was delighted. " This will do," he said, and immediately put ft to his mouth and began pulling it through his lips ; and as fast as he drew it changed it into a red metal cord, which he wound around his body and shoulders, till he had a large quantity. He then prepared himself, and set out a little after midnight, that he might catch the sun before it rose. He fixed his snare on a spot just where the sun would strike the land, as it rose above the earth's disc ; and sure enough, he caught the sun, so that it was held fast in the cord, and did not rise. The animals who ruled tho earth were immediately put into a great commotion. They had no liglit. They called a council to debate upon the matter, and to appoint some one to go and cut the. cord — for thig AMPATA 8APA. 09 waa a very hazardous enterprize, as the rays o' the sun would burr who> ever came so near to them. At last the dormouse undertook it — for at this time the dormouse was the largest animal in the world. When it stood up it looked like a mountain. When it got to the place where the sun was snared, its back began to smoke and burn, with the intensity of the heat, and the top of its carcass was reduced to enormous heaps of ashes. It succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with its teeth, and free- ing the sun, but it was reduced to a very small size, and has remained io ever since. Men call it the Kug-e-been-gwa-kwa. AMPATA SAPAj OB, THE FIRST-WIPE. rcat pon Ithii A TRADITION OP THE DACOTAHS. Amfata Sapa was the wife of a brave young hunter and warrior, by whom she had two children. They lived together in great happiness, which was only varied by the changes of a forest life. Sometimes they lived on the prairies ; sometimes they buih their wigwam in the forest, near the banks of a stream, and they paddled their canoe up and down the rivers. In these trips they got fish, when they were tired of wild meats. In the summer season they kept on the open grounds ; in the winter, they fixed their camp in a sheltered position, in the woods. The very change of their camp was a source of pleasure, for they werelilways on the look- out for something new. They had plenty, and they wanted nothing. In this manner the first years of their marriage passed away. But it so happened, that as years went by, the reputation of her husband in the tribe increased, and he soon came to be regarded as a Weetshahstshy Atapee, or chief This opened a new field for his ambition and pride. The fame of a chief, it is well known, is often increased by the number of his wives. His lodge was now thronged with visitors. Some came to consult him ; some to gain his favour. All this gave Ampata Sapa no uneasiness, for the Red People like to have visitors, and to show hospitality. The first thing that caused a jar in her mind, was the rumour that her husband was about to take a new wife. This was like a poison in her veins ; for she had a big heart. She was much attached to her husband, and she could not bear the idea of sharing his aflfections with another. But she found that the idea had already got strong hold of her husband's mind, and her remon- strances did little good. He defended himself on the ground, that it would give him greater influence in the tribe if he took the daughter of a noted 100 AMPATA 8APA. chief. But before he had time to bring her to hjB lodge, Ampata Sapa had fled from it, taking her two children, and returned to her father's lodge. Her father lived at some distance, and here she remained a short time in quiet. The whole band soon moved up the Mississippi, to their hunting ground. She was glad to go with them, and would, indeed, have been glad to go any where, to get farther from the lodgtf of her faithless husband. Here the winter wore away. When the Spring opened, they came back again to the banks of the river, and mended and fitted up the canoes, which thoy had left in the fall. In these they put their furs, and de- scended to the Falls of St. Anthony. Ampata Sapa lingered behind a short time the morning of their embarkation, as they began to draw near the rapids which precede the great plunge. She then put her canoe in the water, and embarked with her children. As she approached the falls, the increasing velocity of the current rendered the paddles of but little use. She rested with her's suspended in her hands, while she arose, and uttered her lament : "It was him only that I loved, with the love of my heart It was for him that I prepared, with joy, the fresh killed meat, and swept with boughs my lodge-fire. It was for him I dressed the skin of the noble deer, and worked, with my hands, the Moccasins that graced his feet. I waited while the sun ran his daily course, for his return from the chase, and I rejoiced in my heart when I heard his manly footsteps ap* proach the lodge. He threw down his burden at the door — it was a haunch of the deer ; — I flew to prepare the meat for his use. My heart was bound up in him, and he was all the world to me. But he has left me for another, and life is now a burden which I cannot tear. Even my children add to my griefs — they look so much like him. How can I support life, when all its moments are bitter I I have lifted up my voice to the Master of life. I have asked him to take back that life, which he gave, and which I no longer wish. I am on the current that hastens to fulfil my prayer. I see the white foam of the water. It is my shroud. I hear the deep murmur from below. It is my funeral song. Farewell. )t was too late to arrest her course. She had approached too near the abyss, before her purpose was discovered by her friends. They beheld her enter the foam — they saw the canoe for an instant, on the verge, and then disappear for ever. Such was the end of Ampata Sapa ; and they say her canoe can sometimes be seen, by moonlight, plunging over the falls. Internal dissention has done more to destroy the Indian power in America, than the white man's sword. Could the tribes learn the w^is- dom of confederation, they might yet be saved. This is a problem now undergoing an interesting process of solution. t MUKAKEE MINDEMOEA; OR, , I ■ «> % THE TOAD-WOMAN. AN ODJIBWA TALE. Great good luok once happened to a young woman who was living all %lone in the woods, with nobody near her but her little dog, for, to her aur- yrise, she found ftetih raeht every morning at her door. She felt very anxious to know who it wab that supplied her, and watching one morning, very early, she saw a handboinu young man deposit the meat. After his being seen by her, he became her husband, and she had a son by him. One day not long after this, the man did not return at evening, as usual, from hunting. She waited till late at night, but all in vain. Next day she swung her baby to sleep in its tikenagun, or cradle, and then said to her dog: " Take care of your brothei whilst I am gone, and when he cries, halloo for me." The cradle was tnade of the finest wampum, and all its bandages and decorations were ot the same costly material. After a short time the woman heard the cry of her faithful dog, and running home as fast as she could, she found her child gone and the dog too. But on looking round, she saw pieces of the wampum of her child's cradle bitofTby the dog, who strove to retain the child and prevent his being carried off by an old woman called Mukakee Mindemoea, or the Toad- Woman. The mother followed at full speed, and occasionally came to lodges inhabited by old women, who told her at what time the thief had passed ; they also gave her shoes, that she might follow on. There were a number of these old women, who seemed as if they were all prophetesses. Each of them would say to her, that when she arrived in pursuit of her stolen child at the next lodge, she must set the toes of the moccasins they had loaned her pointing homewards, and they would return of themselves. She would get others from her entertainers farther on, who would also give her directions how to proceed to recover her son. She thus followed in the pursuit, from valley to valley, and stream to stream, for months and years : when she came, at length, to the lodge of the last of the friendly old Nocoes, or grandmothers, as they were called, who gave her final instruc. tions how to proceed. She told her she was near the place where her son was, and directed her to build a lodge of shingoob, or cedar boughs, near the old Toad- Woman's lodge, and to make a little bark dish and squeeze her milk into it. " Then," she said, " your first child (meaning the dog) will come and find you out " She did accordingly, and in a short time ill 102 MUKAKEE MINOEMOEA. she hear' Ler son, now grown, going out to hunt, with his dog, calling on to him, "Monedo Pewaubik (that is, Steel or Spirit Iron,) Twee. Twee!" She then set ready the dish and filled it with hei milk. The dog soon scented it and came into the lodge ; she placed it before him. " See my child," said she, addressing him, " the food you used to have from me, your mother." The dog went and told his young master that he had found his real mother ; and informed him that the old woman, v/hom he called his mother, was not his mother, that she had stolen him when an infant in his cradle, and that he had himself followed her in hopes of get- ting him back. The young man and his dog then went on their hunting excursion, and brought back a great quantity of meat of all kinds. He said to his pretended mother, as he laid it down, "Send some to the stranger that has arrived lately." The old hag answered, " No ! why should I send to her — the Shecgowish."* He insisted ; and she at last consents .1 to take something, throwing it in at the door, with the remark, " My son gives you, or feeds you this." But it was of such an offensive nature, that she threw it immediately out after her. After this the young man paid the stranger a visit, at her lodge of cedar boughs, and partook of her u i^h of milk. She th<:;n told him she was his real mother, and that he had been stolen away from her by the detestable Toad-Woman, who was a witch. He was not quite convinced. She said to him, " Feign yourself sick, when you go home, and when the Toad-Woman asks what ails you, say that you want to see your cradle ; for your cradle was of wampum, and your laithful brother, the dcg, bit a piece off to try and detain you, which I picked up, as I followed in your track. They were real wampum, white and blue, shining and beautiful." She then showed him the pieces. He went home and did as his real mother bid him. " Mother," said he, " why am 1 so different in my looks from the rest of your children ?" " Oh," said she, " it was a very bright clear blue sky when you were born ; that is the reason." When the Toad- Woman saw he was ill, she asked what she could do for him. He said nothinjj would do him good, but the sight of his cradle. She ran immediately and got a cedar cradle ; but he said " That is not my cradle." She went and got one of her own children's cradles, (for she had four,) but he turned his head and said, " That is not mine." She then produced the real cradle, and he saw it was the same, in substance, with the pieces the other had shown him ; and he was convinced, for he could even see the marks of the dog's teeth upon it. He soon got well, and went out hunting, and killed a fat bear. He and his dog-brother then stripped a tall pine of all its branches, and stuck the carcass on the top, taking the usual sign of his having killed an animal — the tongue. He told the Toad- Woman where he had left it, saying, " It is very far, even to the end of the earth." She answered, " It is not so far * Sheegowiia, a widow, and movoigh, Bomething nasty. MUKAK6E MINDEMOEA. 103 but I can get it," so ofTshe set. As soon as she was gone, the young man and his dog killed the Toad-Woman's children, and staked them on each side of the door, with a piece of fat in their mouths, and then went to his real mother and hastened her departure with them. The Toad- Woman spent a long time in finding the bear, and had much ado in climbing the tree to get down the carcass. As she got near home, she saw the children looking out, apparently, with the fat in their mouths, and was angry at them, saying, " Why do you destroy the pomatum of your brother." But her fury was great indeed, when she saw they were killed and impaled. She ran after the fugitives as fast as she could, and was near overtaking them, when the young man said, " We are pressed hard, but let this stay her progress," throwing his fire steel behind him, which caused the Toad- Woman to slip and fall repeatedly. But still she pursued and gained on them, when he threw behind him his flint, which again retarded her, for it made her slip and stumble, so that her knees were bleeding ; but she continued to follow on, and was gaining ground, when the young man said, " Let the Oshau shaw go min un (snake berry) spring up to detain her," and immediately these berries spread like scarlet all over the path for a long distance, which she could not avoid stooping down to pick and eat. Still she went on, and was again advancing on them, when the young man at last, said to the dog, " Brother, chew her into mummy, for she plagues us." So the dog, turning round, seized her and tore her to pieces, and |hey escaped. i f Death is frightful, or welcome, according to the theories men have of it. To the Indian, it is a pleasing and welcome event. He believes a future state to be one of rewards, and restitutions, and not of punishments. The Indian idea of paradise is the idea of the orientals. It consists of sensualities, not spiritualities. He expects the scene to furnish him ease and plenty. Ease and plenty make the Indian's happiness here, and his heaven is but a bright transcript of his earth. Paganism and idolatry, require more mysteries for their support than Christianity. Tlie Christian has but one God, existing in three hypostases. It would be below the truth to say that the Indian has one hundred thou- sand gods. The Hindoos worship their multiform gods of the earth, air and sea. The North American Indian only believes in them. He worships the Great Spirit. Wild thoughts are often bright thoughts, but like the wild leaps of a mountain torrent, they are evanescent and unequal. We are dazzled by a single figure in an Indian speech, but it is too often like a spark amid a shower of ashes. 'i'4 H /' 'Vt, ,y:- ■'■■ .>*^ ■'•' THE FLIGHT OF THE SHAWNEES FROM THE SOUTH. A MOHEOAN TRADITION. Metoxon States, that the Shawnees were, in ancient times, while they lived in the south, defeated by a confederacy of surrounding tribes, and in danger of being totally cut off and annihilated, had it not been for the in- terference of the Mohegans and Dekwares. An alliance between them and the Mohegans, happened in this way. Whilst the Mohegans lived at Schodack, on the Hudson river, a young warrior of that tribe visited the Shawnees, at their southern residence, and formed a close friendship with a young warrior of his own age. They became as brothers, and vowed for ever to treat each other as such. The Mohegan warrior had returned, and been some years living with his nation, on the banks of the Ghatimac, or Hudson, when a general war broke out against the Shawnees. The restless and warlike disposition of this tribe, kept them constantly embroiled with their neighbours. They were unfaithful to their treaties, and this was the cause of perpetual troubles and wars. At length the nations of the south resolved, by a general ef- fort, to rid themselves of so troublesome a people, and began a war, in which the Shawnees were defeated, battle after battle, with great loss. In this emergency, the Mohegan thought of his Shawnee brother, and re- solved to rescue him. He raised a war-party and being joined by the Le« napees, since called Delawares, they marched to their relief, and brought off the remnant of the tribe to the country of the Lenapees. Here they were put under the charge of the latter, as their grand&ther. They were now, in the Indian phrase, put between their grandfather's knees, and treated as little children. Their hands were clasped and tied together — that is to say, they were taken under their protection, and fopned a close alliance. But still, sometimes the child would creep out 104 FLIGHT OF THE SHAWNEES. 105 under the old man's legs, and get into trouble — implying that the Shaw* nees could never forget their warlike propensities. The events of the subsequent history of this tribe, after the settlement of America are well known. With the Lenapees, or Delawares, they mi- grated westward. The above tradition was received from the respectable and venerable chief, above named, in 1827, during the negotiation of thctreaty oiButtes des MortSf on Fox river. At this treaty his people, bearing the modern name of Stockbridges, were present, having, within a few years, migrated from their former position in Oneida county. New York, to the waters of Fox river, in Wisconsin. Metoxon was a man of veracity, and of reflective and temperate habits, united to urbanity of manners, and estimable qualities of head and heart, OS I had occasion to know from several years' acquaintance with him, be- fore he, and his people went from Vernon to the west, as well as after he migrated thither. The tradition, perhaps with the natural partiality of a tribesman, lays too much stress upon a noble and generous act of individual and triba. friendship, but is not inconsistant with other relations, of the early south- ern position, and irrascible temper of the Shawnee tribe. Their name it- self, which is a derivative from 0-sha-wan-ong, the place of the South, is strong presumptive evidence of a former residence in, or origin from, the extreme south. Mr. John Johnston, who was for many years the govern- ment agent of this tribe at Piqua, in Ohio, traces them, in an article in the Archselogia Americana (vol. 1, p. 273) to the Suwanee river in Florida. Mr. Gallatin, in the second volume of the same work (p. 65) points out their track, from historical sources of undoubted authority, to the banks of the upper Savannah, in Georgia ; but remarks that they have only been well known to us since 1680. They are first mentioned in our scattered Indian annals, by De Laet, in 1632. It may further be said; in relation to Metoxon's tradition, that there is authority for asserting, that in the flight of the Shawnees from the south, a part of them descended the Kentucky river west, to the Ohio valley, where, in after times, the Shawnees of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, rather formed a re-union with this division of their kindred than led the way for them. To depart one step from barbarism, is to take one step towards civiliza- tion. To abandon the lodge of bark — ^to throw aside the blanket — to dis- continue the use of paints — or to neglect the nocturnal orgies of the wa- beno, are as certain indications of incipient civilization, as it unquestion- ably is, to substitute alphabetical characters for rude hieroglyphics, or to prefer the regular cadences of the gamut, to the wild chanting of the chi- chigwun. m ft m ' "> M Ai?."t. Xi ^., £r;i ',' BOSH-KWA-DOSH, OR THE QUADRUPED WITH THE HAIR BLOWN OFF ITS SKIN. There was once a man who found himself alone in the world. He knew not whence he came, nor who were his parents, and he wandered about from place to place, in search of something. At last he became wearied and fell asleep. He dreamed that he heard a voice saying, "Nosis," that is, my grandchild. When he awoke he actually heard the word repeated, and looking around, he saw a tiny little animal hardly big enough to be seen on the plain. While doubting whether the voice could come from such a diminutive source, the little animal said to him, " My grandson, you will call me Bosh-kvva-dosh. Why are you so desolate. Listen to me, and you shall find friends and be happy. You must take me up and bind me to your body, and never put me aside, and success in life shall attend you." He obeyed the voice, sewing up the little animal in the folds of a string, or narrow belt, w^hich he tied around his body, at his navel. He then set out in search of some one like himself, or other object. He walked a long time in woods without seeing man or animal. He seemed all alone in the world. At length he came to a place where a stump was cut, and on going over a hill he descried a large town in a plain. A wide road led through the middle of it ; but what seemed strange was, that on one side there were no inhabitants in the lodges, while the other side was thickly inhabited. He walked boldly into the town. The inhabitants came out and said ; " Why here is the being we have heard so much of — here is Anish-in-a-ba. See his eyes, and his teeth in a half circle— see the Wyaukenawbedaid ! See his bowels, how they are formed ;" — for it seems they could look through him. The king's son, the Mudj6kewis, was particularly kind to him, and calling him brother-in-law, commanded that he should be taken to his father's lodge and received with attention. The king gave him one of his daughters. These people, (who are supposed to be human, but whose rank in the scale of being is left equivocal,) passed much of their time in play and sports and trials of various kinds. When some time had passed, and he had become re* 106 B08H-KWA-D0SH. 107 freshed and rested, he was invited to join in these sports. TJAe first test which they put him to, was the trial of frost. At some distance was a large body of frozen wator, and the trial consisted in lying down naked on the ice, and seeing who could endure the longest. He went out with two young men, who began, by pulling off their garments, and lying down on their faces. He did likewise, only keeping on the narrow magic belt with the tiny little animal sewed in it ; for he feh that in thi ulone was to be his reliance and preservation. His competitors laughed and tittered during the early part of the night, and amused themselves by thoughts of his fate. Once they called out to him, but he made no reply. He felt a manifest warmth given out by his belt. About midnight finding they were still, he called out to them, in return, — "What!" said he, "are you be- numbed already, I am but just beginning to feel a little cold." All was si- lence. He, however, kept his position till early day break, when he got up and went to them. They were both quite dead, and frozen so hard, that the fiesh had bursted out under their finger nails, and their teeth stood out. As he looked more closely, what was his surprise to find them both transformed into buffalo cows. He tied them together, and carried them towards the village. As he came in sight, those who had wished his death were disappointed, but the Mudj6kewis, who was really his friend, rejoiced. " See !" said he " but one person approaches, — it is my brother-in-law." He then threw down the carcasses in triumph, but it was found that by their death he had restored two inhabitants to the before empty lodges, and he afterwards perceived, that every one of these beings, whom he killed, had the like effect, so that the depopulated part of the village soon became filled with people. The next test they put him to, was the trial of speed. He was chal- lenged to the race ground, and began his career with one whom he thought to be a man ; but every thing was enchanted here, for he soon discovered that his competitor was a large black bear. The animal outran him, tore up the ground, and sported before him, and put out its large claws as if to frighten him. He thought of his little guardian spirit in the belt, and wishing to have the swiftness of the Kakake, i. e. sparrow hawk, he found himself rising from the ground, and with the speed of this bird he outwent his rival, and won the race, while the bear came up exhausted and lolling out his tongue. His friend the MudjSkewis stood ready, with his war-club, at the goal, and the moment the bear came up, dispatched him. He then turned to the assembly, who had wished his friend and brother's death, and after re- proaching them, he lifted up his club and began to slay them on every side. They fell in heaps on all sides ; but it was plain to be seen, the moment they fell, that they were not men, but animals, — foxes, wolves, tigers, lynxes, and other kinds, lay thick around the Mudj^kewis. Still the villagers were not satisfied. They thought the trial of frost, %\\ 108 fiOSH-KVA-DO0H. had not been fairly accomplished, and wished it repeated. He agreed to repeat it, but being fatigued with the race, he undid his guardian belt, and laying it under his head, fell asleep. When he awoke, he felt re- freshed, and feeling strong in his own strength, he went forward to renew the trial on the ice, but quite forgot the belt, nor did it at all occur to him when he awoke, or when he lay down to repeat the trial. About midnight his limbs became stifi) the blood soon ceased to circulate, and he was found in the morning, a stiff corpse. The victors took him up and carried him to the village, where the loudest tumult of vic- torious joy was made, and they cut the body into a thousand pieces, that each one might eat a piece. The Mudjdkewis bemoaned his fiate, but his wife was inconsolable. She lay in a state of partial distraction, in the lodge. As she lay here, she thought she heard some one groaning. It was repeated through the night, and in the morning, she carefully scanned the place, and running her fingers through the grass, she discovered the secret belt, on the spot where her hus- band had last reposed. <' Aubishin !" cried the belt — ^that is, untie me, or unloose me. Looking carefully, she found the small seam which enclosed the tiny little animal. It cried out the more earnestly " Aubishin I" and when she had carefully ripped the seams, she beheld, to her surprise, a mi- nute, naked little beast, smaller than the smallest new born mouse, without any vestige of hair, except at the tip of its tail, it could crawl a few inches, but reposed from fatigue. It then went forward again. At each movement it would pupowee, that is to say, shake itself, like a dog, und at each shake it became larger. This it continued until it acquired the strength and size of a middle sized dog, when it ran off The mysterious dog ran to the lodges, about the village, looking for the bones of his friend, which he carried to a secret place, and as fast as he found them arranged all in their natural order. At length he had formed all the skeleton complete, except the heel bone of one foot. It so happened that two sisters were out of the camp, according to custom, at the time the body was cut up, and this heel was lent out to them. The dog hunted every lodge, and being satisfied that it was not to be found in the camp, he sought it outside of it, and found the lodge of the two sisters. The younger sister was pleased to see him, and admired and patted the pretty dog, but the elder sat mumbling the very heel-bone he was seeking, and was surly and sour, and repelled the dog, although he looked most wistfully up in her face, while she sucked the bone from one side of her mouth to the other. At last she held it in such a manner that it made her cheek stick out, when the dog, by a quick spring, seized the cheek, and tore cheek and bone away and fled. He now completed the skeleton, and placing himself before it, uttered a hollow, low, long-drawn-out-howl, when the bones came compactly toge- ther. He then modulated his howl, «rhen the bones knit together and BOSH-KWA-DOSH. 109 became tense. The third howl brought sinews upon them, and the fourth, flesh. He then turned his head upwards, looking into the sky, and gave a howl, which caused every one in the village to startle, and the ground itself to tremble, at which the breath entered into his body, and he first breathed and then arose. "Hy kow!" 1 have overslept myself, he exclaimed, " I will be too late for the trial." "Trial !" said the dog, " I told you never to let me be separate from your body, you have neglected this. You were defeated, and your frozen body cut into a thousand pieces, and scattered over the village, but my skill has restored you. Nc w I will de- clare myself to you, and show who and what I am !" He then began to fvfowee, or shake himself, and at every shake, he grew. His body became heavy and massy, his legs thick and long, with big clumsy ends, or feet He still shook himself, and rose and swelled. A long snout grew from his head, and two great shining teeth out of his mouth. His skin remained as it was, naked, and only a tuft of hair grew on his tail. He rose up above the trees. He was enormous. " I should fill the earth," said he, " were I to exert my utmost power, and all there is on the earth would not satisfy me to eat. Neither could it fatten me or do me good. I should want more. It were useless, therefore, and the gift I have, I will bestow on you. The animals shall henceforth be your food. They were not designed to feed on man, neither shall they hereafter do it, but shall feed him, and he only shall prey on beasts. But you will respect me, and not eat my kind. [The preceding is a traditionary tale of Maidosegee, an aged and respected hunter, of Sault-ste-Mairie, who was the ruling chief of the band of Chippewa: bt those falla, and the progenitor of the present line of rulmg chiefs. It is preserved through the Johnston family, where he was a frequent guest, prior to 1810> and was happy to while away many of his winter's evenings, in return for the ready hospitaUties which were rare to await him at the house of the Indian's friend.] MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONG, c, THE TRADITIONARY STORY OF THE RED HEAD AND HIS TWO SONS. BY NABINOI, AN AOED ODJIBWA CHIEF. Mash-kwa-sha-kwong, was a first rate hunter, and he loved the chase exceedingly, and pursued it with unceasing vigilance. One day, on hi» return home, arriving at his lodge, he vras informed by his two sons, who were but small then, that they were very lonesome, because their mother was in the habit of daily leaving them idone, and this occurred so soon as 110 MASH-KWA-8HA-KWONO. he started upon his daily chase. This circumstance was not unknown to Mash-kwa-sha-kwong, but he seemed fully aware of it ; he took his boys in his arms and kissed them, and told them that their mother behaved improperly and was acting the part of a wicked and faithless woman. fiut Mdsh-kwa-sha-kwong behaved towards his wife as if ignorant of her vile course. One morning rising very early, he told his sons to take cou- rage, and that they must not be lonesome, he also strictly enjoined them not to absent themselves nor quit their lodge ; after this injunction was given to the boys, he made preparations, and starting much earlier than usual, he travelled but a short distance from his lodge, when he halted and secreted himself. After waiting a short time, he saw' his wife coming out of their lodge, and immediately after a man made his appearance and meeting Mash-kwa-sha-kwong's wife, they greeted one another. His suspicions were now confirmed, and when he saw them in the act of car- rying on an illegal intercourse, his anger arose, he went up to them and killed them with one blow ; he then dragged them both to his lodge, and tying them together, he dug a hole beneath the fire-place in his lodge and buried them. He then told his sons that it was necessary that he should go away, as he would surely be killed if he remained, and their safety would depend upon their ability of keeping the matter a secret He gave his eldest son a small bird, (Kichig-e-chig-aw-na-she) to roast for his small brother over the ashes and embers where their mother was buried, he also provided a small leather bag, and then told his sons the necessity of his im- mediate flight to heaven, or to the skies. And that it would be expedient for them to fiy and journey southward, and thus prepared their minds for the separation about to take place. " By and bye," said MSsh-kwa-sha- kwong to his sons, " persons will come to you and enquire for me and for your mother, you will say to them that I am gone hunting, and your little brother in the mean time will continually point to the fire place, this will lead the persons to whom I allude, to make inquiries of the cause of this pointing, and you will tell them that you have a little bird roasting for your brother, this v/ill cause them to desist from further inquiry at the time. As soon as they are gone escape! While you are journeying agreeably to my instructions, I will look from on high upon you, I will lead and conduct you, and you shall hear my voice from day to day." Mash-kwa-sha-kwong at this time gave his sons an awl, a beaver's tooth, and a hone, also a dry coal, and directed them to place a small piece of the coal on the ground every evening, so soon as they should encamp, from which fire would be produced and given to them ; he told his eldest son to place his brother in the leather bag, and in that manner carry him upon his back ; he then bade them farewell. The two boys being thus left alone in the lodge, and while m the act of roasting the little bird provided for them, a man came in, and then another, a/id another, until they numbered ten in all ; the youngest boy MA8H-KWA-SUA-KWONO. Ill would from time to time point at the fire, and the men enquired to know the reason, the eldest boy said that he was roasting a bird for his brother, and digging the n»!>es produced it. They enquired, where their father and mother v ■:;;,, the boy answered them saying, that their father was absent hunting, and that their mother had gone to chop and collect wood ; upon this information the men rose and searched around the out> skiits of the lodge, endeavouring to find traces of the man and his wife, but they were not successful, and returned to the lodge. Before this, how- ever, and during the absence of the ten men, Melsh-kwa-sha-kwong's eldest son placed his little brother in the leather bag, (Ouskemood,) and ran away southward. One of the ten men observed, that the smallest boy had repeatedly pointed to the fire place, and that they might find out something by dig- ging ; they set to work, and found the woman and the man tied together. On this discovery their wrath was kindled, they brandished their weapons, denouncing imperoations upon M&sh-kwa-sha-kwong, who was of course suspected of having committed the deed. The ten men again renewed their search in order to avenge themselves upon the perpetrator of this dark deed, but M&sh-kwa-sha-kwong, in order to avoid instant death, had sought a large hollow tree, and entering at the bottom or root part, passed through and reached the top of it, from whence he took his flight upwards to the sky. His pursuers finally traced him, and followed him as far as the tree, and into the sky, with loud and un- ceasing iinpercations of revenge and their determination to kill him. The spirit of the mother alone followed her children. About mid-day the boys heard, as they ran, a noise in the heavens like the rolling of distant thunder.* The boys continued their journey south, when the noise ceased ; towards night they encamped ; they put a small piece of the coal on the ground, then a log of fire-wood was dropped down from the skies to them, from whence a good blazing fire was kindled. This was done daily, and when the fire was lit, a raccoon would fall from on high upon the firo, and in this manner the boys were fed, and this over-ruling care they experienced daily. In the evenings at their camping place, and sometimes during the day, the Red Head's voice was heard speaking to his children, and encouraging them to use their utmost exertions to fly from the pursuit of their mother. To aid them in escaping, they were told to throw away their awl, and immediately there grew a strong and almost impassable hedge of thorn bushes behind them, in their path, which the pursuing mother could scarcely penetrate, and thus impeding her pro- ill '■'J * Note by Mr. George Johnston, from whom this tale was received. — Any thing of the kmd, or a sunilar noise heard, is attributed by the Indian, to this day, as an indica- tion of the contention between Miish-kwa-sha-kwong and his pursuers, and hence a prelude to wara and contentions among the nations of the world. 112 BIASH-KWA-SBA-KWO!fO. gress, tearing away her whole body and leaving nothing but the heaa So they escaped the first day. The next day they resumed their march and could distinctly hear the noise of combat in the sky, as if it were a roaring thunder ; they also heard the voice of their mother behind them, desiring her eldest son to stop and wait for her, saying that she wished to give the breast to his brother ; then again Mdsh-kwa-sha-kwong's voice, encouraging his sons to fly for their lives, and saying that if their mother overtook them she Would surely kill them. In the evening of the second day the boys prepared to encamp, and the noise of combat on high ceased ; on placing a small piece of the coal on the ground, a log and some fire-wood was let down as on the preceding night, and the fire was kindled, and then the raccoon placed on it for their food. This was fulfilling the promise made by their father, that they would be provided for during their flight. The beaver's tooth was here thrown away, and this is the cause why the northern country now abounds with beaver, and also the innumerable little lakes and marshes, and con* sequently the rugged and tedious travelling now experienced. On the third day the boys resumed their flight, and threw away their hone, and it became a high rocky mountainous ridge, the same now seen on the north shore of these straits, (St. Mary's) which was a great obstacle in the way of the woman of the Head, for this was now her name, be- cause that part alone remained of her whole frame, and with it she was incessantly uttering determinations to kill her eldest son ; the boys finally reached the fishing place known as the eddy of Wah-zah-zhawing, at the rapids of Bawating, situated on the north shore of the river. Here Mash* kwa-sha-kwong, told his sons that he had himself been overtaken in his flight by his pursuers and killed, and ho appeared to them in the shape of a red headed wood-pecker, or a mama. This is a bird that is seldom or never attacked by birds of prey, for no vestiges of his remains are ever seen or found by the Indian hunter. " Now my sons," said the red headed wood-pecker, " I have brought you to this river, you will now see your grand father and he will convey you across to the opposite side." Then the boys looked to the southern shore of the river, and they saw in the middle of the rapid, an Oshuogay standing on a rock ; to the Oshuggay the boys spoke, and accosted him as their grand father, requesting him to carry them across the river Bawating. The Oshuggay stretching his long neck over the river to the place where the boys stood, told them to get upon his head and neck, and again stretching to the southern shore, he landed the boys in safety, upon a prairie : the crane was seen walking in state, up and down the prairie. The persevering mother soon arrived at Wah-zah-hawing, and im* mediately requested the Oshuggay to cross her over, that she was in pur* u MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONO. ittit of her children and stating that she wished to overtake them ; but the Oshuggay seemed well aware of her character, and objected to conveying her across, giving her to understand that she was a lewd and bad wo- man ; he continued giving her a long moral lecture upon the course she had pursued and the bad resuhs to mankind in consequence, such as quarrels, murders, deaths, and hence widowhood. The woman of the Head persisted in her request of being conveyed °cros8. Objections and entreaties followed. She talked as if she were still a woman, whose favour was to be sought ; and he, as if he were above such favours. After this dialogue the Oshuggay said that he would convey her across, on the condition that she would adhere strictly to his injunctions ; he told her not to touch the bare part of his head, but to get upon the hollow or crooked part of his neck ; to this she agreed, and got on. The Oshuggay then withdrew his long neck to about half way across, when feeling that she had forgotten her pledge he dashed her head upon the rocks, and the small fish, that were so abundant instantly fed upon the brain and fragments of the skull and became large white fish. " A fish " said the Oshuggay, " that from this timf foiiii shall be abundant, and remain in these rapids to feed the Indicns and their issue, from genera- tion to generation."* After this transaction of the Oshuggay's, landing the boys safely across, and dashing the woman's head upon the rocks, he spake to the Crane and mutually consulting one another in relation to M&sh-kwa-sha-kwong'ssons they agreed to invite two women from the eastward, of the tribe of the Was- sissiG, and the two lads took them for wives. The Oshuggay plucked one of his largest wing feathers and gave it to the eldest boy, and the Crane likewise did the same, giving his feathers to the youngest ; they were told to consider the feathers as their sons afler this, one feather appeared like an Oshuggay and the other like a young Crane. By and by they appeared like human beings to the lads. Thus the alliance was formed with the Was- sissig, and the circumstance of the Oshuggay and Crane interesting them- selves in behalf of the boys and the gift to them of their feathers and the result, is the origin of the Indian Totem. Here Mash-kwa-sha-kwong's sons were told that they would be con- sidered as chieftains and that this office would be hereditary and continue in their generations. After this, they multiplied exceedingly and became strong and powerful. About this time the Obinangoes, (or the Bears* Totem) came down from Shaugah-wah-mickong, near the extremity of Lake Superior. On their way eastward they were surprised on reaching Bawating to find such a numerous population of human beings : they were * The small white shells that the white fish live upon, and the white substance found m its gizzard are to this day considered by the Indians, the brain and skull of the womu cf the Head. 8 14 MASH-KWA-8BA-KW0N0. not aware of ita oeing in exUtence ; fear came upon the Obinangoe*, and they deviaed the plan of securing friendship with the Oshuggays and Cranes, by adopting and claiming a relationship with them, and calling them their grandsons. This claim was yielded, and they were permitted to remain at Bawaiting upon the score of relationship thus happily attained. The Obenangoes eventually emigrated eastward and settled upon the northern coast of Lakes Huron and Ontario. Population increased so rapidly at Bawaiting, that it was necessary to form new villages, some settling on the Garden River, some upon the Pflkaysaugauegan River, and others upon the island of St. Joseph's, and upon the Menashkong Bay and Mashkotay Saugie River. About this time, a person in the shape of a human being came down from the sky ; his clothing was exceedingly pure and white ; he was seated as it were in a nest, with a very fine cord attached to it, by which this mysterious person was let down, and the cord or string reached heaven. He addressed the Indians in a very humane, mild, and con.pasionate tone, saying that they were very poor and needy, but telling them that they were perpetually asleep, and this was caused by the Mache Monedo who was in the midst of them, and leading them to death and ruin. This mysterious personage informed them also that above, where he came from, there was no night, that the inhabitants never slept, that it was perpetually day and they required no sleep ; that Kezha Monedo was their light. He then invited four of the Indiana to ascend up with him promiS' ing that they would be brought back in safety ; that an opportunity would thereby present itself to view the beauty of the sky, or heavens. But the Indians doubted and feared lest the cord should break, because it appeared to them so small. They did not believe it possible it could bear theii weight. With this objection they excused themselves. They were, however, again assured that ths cord was sufRciently strong and that Kezha Monedo had the power to make it so. Yet the Indians doubted and feared, and did not accompany the messenger sent down to them. After this re- fusal the mysterious person produced a small bow and arrows with which he shot at the Indians in different parts of their bodies : the result was, ihe killing of multitudes of small white worms, which he showed to them ; telling them that they were the Mache Monedo which caused them to sleep, and prevented their awakening from their death-like state. This divine messenger then gave to the Indians laws and rules, where- by they should be guided : first, to love and fear Kezha Monedo, and next that they must love one another, and be charitable and hospitable ; and finally, that they must not covet their neighbours property, but acquire it by labour and honest industry. He then instituted the grand medicine or metay we win dance : this ceremony was to be observed annually, and with due solemnity, and the Indians, said Nabinoi, experienced much good from it ; but unfortunately, the foolish young men were cheated by Mache MA8H-RWA-SHA.KW0NO. 115 Moncdo, who caused them to adopt the Wabano dance and its ceremoniei. This latter is decidedly an institution of the sagemaus, or evil spirits, and this was finally introduced into the metay we wining, (i. e. medicine dance) and thereby corrupted it. The old chief continued his moral strain thus : While the Indians were instructed by the heavenly messenger they v ere told ihnt it would snow continually for the space of five years, winttr and summer, and the end would then be nigh at hand ; and again that it would min incessantly as many winters and summers more, which would cii use the wall i f- to rise and overflow the earth, destroying trees and all manner of vegetation. After this, ten winters and summers of drought would follow, drying up the land, and mostly the lakes and rivers ; not a cloud would be seen during this period. The earth would become so dry, that it will then burn up with fire of itself, and it will also burn the waters to a certain depth, until it at- tains the first created earth and waters. Then the good Indians will rise from death to enjoy a new earth, filled with an abundance of all manner of living creatures. The only animal which will not be seen is the beaver The bad Indians will not enjoy any portion of the new earth ; they will be condemned and given to the evil spirits. Four generations, he went on to say, have now passed away, since that brotherly love and charity, formerly known, still existed among the In- dians. There was in those ancient times an annual meeting among the In- dians, resembling the French New Year's Day, which was generally ob- served on the new moon's first appearance, Gitchy Monedo gesus. The Indians of our village would visit these of another, and sometimes meet one another dancing ; and on those occasions they would exchange bows and arrows, their rude axes, awls, and kettles, and their clothing. This was an annual festival, which was duly observed by them. In those days the Indians lived happy ; but every thing is now changed to the In- dian mind, indicating the drawing near and approach of the end of time. The Indians who still adhere to the laws of the heavenly messenger ex- perience happiness ; and, on the contrary, concluded the old man, those who are wicked and adhere to the Wabano institution, generally meet with their reward; and it is singular to say that they generally come to their end by accidents, such as drowning, or miserable deaths. He then reverted to the former part of his story. The Oshuggays, and the Cranes quarrelled, and this quarrel commenced on a trivial point. It appears that the Cranes took a pole, without leave, from the Oshugga3rs, and they broke the pole ; this circumstance led to a separation. The Oshuggays emigiuted south, and are now known as the Shawnees. ■I" I WA-WA-BE-ZO-WIN, OK THE SWING ON THE LAKE SHORE. fROH THE TKADITIONS OF THE ODJIBWA8. There was an old hag of a womarj living with her daughter-m-Iitw and son, and a little orphan boy, whom she was bringing up. When her son-in-law came home from hunting, it was his custom to bring his wife the moose's lip, the kidney of the bear, or some other choice bits of different animals. These she would cook crisp, bo as to make a sound with her teeth in eating them. This kind attention of the hunter to his wife, at last, excited the envy of the old woman. She wished to have the same luxuries, and in order to get them she Rnally resolved to make way with her son's wife. One day, she asked her to leave her in- fant son to the care of the orphan boy, and come out and swing with her. She took her to the shore of a lake, where there was a high range of rocks overhanging the water. Upon the top of this rock, she erected a swing. She then undressed, and fastened a piece of leather around her body, and commenced swinging, going over the precipice at every swing. She continued it but a short time, when she told her daughter to do the same. The daughter obeyed. She undressed, and tying the leather string as she was directed, began swinging. When the swing had got in full motion and well a going, so that it went clear beyond the precipice, at every sweep, the old woman slyly cut the cords and let her daughter drop into the lake. She then put on her daughter's clothing, and thus dis* guised went home in the dusk of the evening and counterfeited her ap- pearance and duties. She found the child crying, and gave it the breast, but it would not draw. The orphan boy asked her where its mother was. She answered, " She is still swinging." He said, " I shall go and look for her." " No !" said she, " you must not — what should you go for ?" When the husband came in, in the evening, he gave the coveted morsel to his supposed wife. He missed his mother-in-law, but said nothing. She et :7erly ate the dainty, and tried to keep the child still. The hus- band looked rather astonished to see his wife studiously averting her face, and asked her why the child cried so. She said, she did not know — that It would not draw. In the meantime the orphan boy went to the lake shores, and found no one. He mentioned his suspicions, and while the old woman was out getting wood, he told him all that he had heard or seen. The man then 116 WA-WA-BE-ZO-WIN. 117 painted his face black, and placed his spear upside down in the earth and requested the Great Spirit to send lightning, thunder, and rain, in the hope that the body of his wife might arise from the water. He then began to fast, and told the boy to take the child and play on the lake shore. We must rfivf go back to the swing. After the wife had plunged into the lake, she found herself taken hold of by a water tiger, whose tail twisted itself round her body, and drew her to the bottom. There she found a fine lodge, and all things 'ready for her reception, and she became ;he wife of the water tiger. Whilst the children were playing along the shore, and the boy was casting pebbles into the lake, he saw a gull com- ing from its centre, and flying towards the shore, and when on shore, the bird immediately assumed the human shape. When he looked again he recognized the lost mother. She had a leather belt around her loins, and another belt of white metal, which was, in reality, the tail of the water tiger, her husband. She suckled the babe, and said to the boy — " Come here with him, whenever he cries, and I will nurse him." The boy carried the child home, and told these things to the father. When the child again cried, the father went also with the boy to the lake shore, and hid himselT in a clump of trees. Soon the appearance of a gull was seen, with a long shining belt, or chain, and as soon as it came to the shore, it assumed the mother's shape, and began to suckle the child. The husband had brought along his spear, and seeing the shining chain, he boldly struck it and broke the links apart. He then took his wife and child home, with the orphan boy. When they entered the lodge, the old woman looked up, but it was a look of despair, she instantly dropped her head. A rustling was heard in the lodge, and the next mo- ment, she leaped up, and flew out of the lodge, and was never heard of more. The name of God, among the ancient Mexicans, was Teo, a word sel dom found, except in compound phrases. Among the Mohawks and Onondagas, it is Neo. With the western Senecas, as given by Smith, Owayneo. With the Odjibwas, Monedo ; with the Ottowas, Maneto. Many modifications of the word by prefixes, to its radix Edo, appear among the cognate dialects It is remarkable that there is so striking a similarity in the principal syllable, and it is curious to observe that Edo, is, in sound, both the Greek term Deo, and the Azteek Teo, transposed. Is there any thing absolutely ^a;ed in the sounds of languages? * IJ ''. f TAKOZID, «• THE SHORT-FOOT. A BIOQRAPHICAL SKETCH. Most of the individuals who have figured amongst the Red Race in America, have appeared under circumstances which have precluded any thing like a full and consistent biography. There is, in truth, but little in savage life, to furnish materials for such biographies. The very scanti- ness of events determines this. A man suddenly appears among these tribes as a warrior, a negociator, an orator, or a prophet, by a name that nobody ever before heard of. He excites attention for a short time, and then sinks back into the mass of Indian society, and is no more heard of. His courage, his eloquence, or his diplomatic skill, are regarded as evi- dences of talent, and energy of thought or action, which, under better au- spices, might have produced a shining and consistent character. But he has been left by events, and is sunk in the mass. He appeared rather like an erratic body, or flash, than a fixed light amid his people. The circum stances that brought him into notice have passed away. A victory has been won, a speech made, a noble example given. The afiair has been adjusted, the tribe resumed its hunting, or corn-planting, or wandering, or internal discords, and the new name, which promised for a while to raise a Tamerlane, or Tippoo Saib in the west, settles down in the popular mind ; and if it be not wholly lost, is only heard of now and then, as one of the signatures to some land treaty. There is not, in fact, sufficient, in the population, military strength, or importance of the affairs of most of our tribes, to work out incidents for a sustained and full biography. Even the most considerable personages of past times, who have been honoured with such full notices, have too much resemblance to a stout boy in his father's regimentals. They hang loosely about him. The most that can be done — all indeed which the occasion requires in general — is a sketch of such particular events, in aboriginal history, as the individual has connected his name with. It is proposed in the progress of this work, to furnish some of such sketches from the unwritten annals of the west and the north. Among that class of aboriginal chiefs and actors, who have not risen to the highest distinction, or attained general notoriety out of the circle of their own tribes, was Takozid, or the Short-Foot ; a Mukundwa, or pil- bger; a fierce, warlike, and predatory tribe of the Odjibwa Algonquin 118 TAKOZID, OR THE SHORT-FOOT. 119 Stock, who, at an early time seated themselves on the sources of the Mis- sissippi, making their head quarters at Leech Lake. To this place, their traditions assert, they came from Chagoimegon, or still farther east, prior to the discovery of the country by Europeans. They were consequently intruders in, or conquerors of the country, and drove back some other people. It seems equally probable that .this people were the Dacotahs, the Naddowassies, or as it is abbreviated, Sioux, of early French writers. The Sioux are a numerous and warlike stock, who occupy portions of the banks of the Missouri and the Mississippi, at, and about the latitude of St. Anthony's Falls, A hereditary war of which " the memory of man runneth not to the contrary," was the consequence of this ancient inroad. Of all this region of country we can speak from personal knowledge, having tra- versed it at sundry times, and in various directions. It is in local remi* niscence, little more than a widely extended scene of Indian battles, ambus- cades and murders. There is hardly a prominent stream, plain or forest, which is not referred to, as the traveller proceeds, as the particular locality of some fight, tragedy, or hair-breath escape among the Red Men. The Olympic games were not a surer test of fame in successful rivalry, than is this wide area of aboriginal warfare, for the opposing nations of the Sioux and Chippewas. War is the prime avenue to distinction to the Indian mind. As soon as a hunter has acquired any distinction, and begins to look upon himself as a person of courage and address, he turns his efforts to the war path. Whatever else he is famous for, this is the crowning test and seal of his reputation. And none have pursued it with more in- cessant devotion than the Chippewas. Takozid determined from his earliest youth to take a part in the strife for barbaric glory. He early joined the war parties going into the great plains. He learned their arts, repeated their songs, and became expert in all the warrior's arts. He established the reputation of a brave young man. The next step was to lefid a war party himself. He courted popu- larity by generosity, self denial, and attention to their religious rites and ceremonies. These things may be done on a smaller scale, as effectually among a band of savages, as in the hall or forum. He succeeded. He raised a war party, conducted it into the plains, discovered his enemies, approached them slily, fell upon them, defeated them, and returned in tri- umph with their scalps to his village. His deep and hollow che kwan DUM, or death-cry ol victory as he came to the eminence which overlooked his village, annotinced all this before he set foot in his village: and the number of his scalps. These exploits placed him on the pinnacle of fame. It is a curious fact, m the lives of our Red men, to observe that war is a stimulus to poligamy. One of the first things he thought of, as a proper reward for his bravery, was to take another wife. In this, his friends and partizans concurred, although he had no cause of dissatisfaction with his first wife, to whom he 120 TAKOZIOi OR THE 8H0RT-F00T. had been married but a short time, and who had borne him a son. Time added confirmation to this plan. It was talked of, and even debated by the chiefs. It was conceded to be due to his bravery. All, indeed, appeared to approve ff it, but his wife. She heard of the rumor with alarm, and received the account of its confirmation, with pain. It could no longer be doubted, for the individual who was to share, nay, control the lodge with her was named, and the consent of her parents had been obtained. Monon, or the Little-Iron-Wood-Tree, as she was called, was a female of no ordinary firmness of character. She was ardently attached to her husband, not the less so for his rising fame, jealous of her rights, and prompted by strong feelings to maintain them. In all these points she was above the generality of her country women. Like others, however, in a community where poligamy was common, she might have submitted at length, to her fate, had not her rival in the affections of Takozid, ap- pealed to a deeper seated principle, and waked up, in the breast of the in- jured wife, the feeling of revenge : a principle reckless enough, in com- munities where there are the safeguards of education and Christianity to restrain and regulate it ; but horrible in wild and roving bands of bar- barians. Monon's fidelity was slandered. She was a pure and high minded woman, and the imputation goaded her to the quick. When this slander first reached her ears, through the ordinary chan- nel of village gossip, a chord was struck, which vibrated through every throe, and steeled her heart for some extraordinary act ; although none could anticipate the sanguinary deed which marked the nuptial night. An Indian marriage is often a matter of little ceremony. It was not so, on this occasion. To render the events imposing, many had been invited. The bride was dressed in her best apparel. Her father was present. Many young and old, males and females were either present or thronged around the lodge. The broad clear blue waters of the lake, studded with green islands, spread before the door. A wide grassy lawn, which was the village ball and play ground, extended down to its margin. It was a public event. A throng had gathered around. Takozid was to be married. He was to take a second wife, in the daughter of Obegwud. Takozid himself was there. Hilarity reigned within and without. All indeed, were there, but the dejected and deserted Monon, who had been left with her child, at the chieftain's own lodge. But a spirit had been aroused in her breast, which would not permit her to rem:iin absent. She crossed the green silently, stealthily. She stood gazing awhile at the lake. She approached the bridal lodge. She passed easily among tlie group. She entered the lodge. Nor had any one, at that moment, a thought of suspicion or alarm. The bride was seated on her envied abbinos ; her affianced husband was at her side. All at once, there arose a shrill cry^ in the Chippewa tongue. " This, vociferated the enraged Monon, This for the bastard!" and at each repeti TAKOZID, OR THE SHORT-FOOT. 121 tion of the words, she raised an Indian poignard, in her hand. The sud- denness of her movement had paralyzed every attempt to arrest her. Amazement sat in every face. She had plunged a pointed knife into the oreast of her rival. There is little to be added to such a catastrophe. Its very suddenness and atrocity appalled every one. Nobody arrested her, and nobody pur- sued her. She returned as she came, and re-entered her lodge. Her victim never spoke. From this moment the fame of Takozid declined. The event appeared to have unmanned him. He went no more to war. His martial spirits appeared to have left him. He sank back into the mass of Indian society, and was scarcely ever mentioned. Nor should we, indeed, have recalled his name from its obscurity, were it not associated in the Indian reminis- cences of Leach lake, with this sanguinary deed. I 'ad this relation a few years ago, from a trader, who had lived at Leech lake, who personally knew the parties, and whose veracity I had no reason at all, to call into question. It is one of the elements that go into the sum of my personal observations, on savage life, and as such I cast it among these papers. To judge of the Red race aright, we must view it, in all its phases, and if we would perform our duty towards them, as christians and men, we should gather our data from small^s well as great events, and from afar as well as near. When all has been done, m the way of such collections and researches, it will be found, we think, that their errors and crimes, whatever they are, assume no deeper dye than philanthropy has had reason to apprehend them to take, without a knowledge of the principles of the gospel. Thou shall not kill, is a law, yet to be enforced, among more than two hundred thousand souls, who bear the impress of a red skin, within the acknowledged limits of the American Union. MACHINITO, THE EVIL SPIRIT; f;;oh the legends of iagou. BY MRS. E. OAKES SMITH. " The Pagan world not only believes in a myriad of gods, but worships them also It is the peculiarity of the North American Indian, that while he helievea in as many, he vomraUfs but one, the Great Spirit." — {Schoolcraft.) Chemanitou, being the master of life, at one time became the origin of a spirit, that has ever since caused himself and all others of his creation IJH INDIAN MYTHOLOGY. ; ^^ a gre^ deal of disquiet His birth was owing to an accident It was m this wise. AlETdWAO, or as the white people now call it, Long Island, was origi nally a vast plain, so level and free from any kind of growth, that it looked like a portion of the great sea that had suddenly been made to move back and let the sand below appear, which was the case in fact. Here it was that Chemanitou used to come and sit, when he wished to bring any new creation to the life. The place being spacious and solitary, the water upon every side, he hod not only room enough, but was free from interruption. It is well known that some of these early creations were of very great size, so that very few could live in the same place, and their strength made it difficult for GhemTanitou, even to controul them ; for when he has given them certain elements, they have the use of the laws that govern these ele- ments, till it is his will to take them back to himself Accordingly, it was the custom of Chemanitou, when he wished to try the effect of these crea- tures, to set them in motion upon the island of Met6wac, and if they did not please him, he took the life out before they were suffered to escape. He would set up a mammoth or other large animal, in the centre of the island, and build him up with great care, somewhat in the manner that a cabin or a canoe is made. Even to tnis day may be found traces of what had been done here in former years ; and the manner in which the earth sometimes sinks down [even wells fall out at the bottom here,] shows that this island is nothing more than a great cake of earth, a sort of platter laid upon the sea, for the convenience of Chemanitou, who used it as a table upon which he might work, never having designed it for anything else ; the margin of the Chatieiiac, (the stately swan,) or Hudson river, being better adapted to the purposes of habitation. When the master of life wished to build up an elephant or mammoth he placed four cakes of clay upon the ground, at proper distances, which were moulded into shape, and became the feet of the animal. Now sometimes these were left unfinished ; and to this day the green tussocks, to be seen like little islands about the marshes, show where these cakes of clay had been placed. As Chemanitou went on with his work, the Neebanawbaigs (or water spirits,) the PucK-^vuD-JINNIES, (Fairies *) and indeed all the lesser manit- toes, used to come and look on, and wonder what it would be, and how it would act. When the animal was quite done, and had dried a long time in the sun, Chemanitou opened a place in the side, and entering in, remained there many days. Literally, little men, who vanish. .i INDIAN MTTHOLOGT. 123 ^ When he came forth, the creature began to shiver and sway from side to side, in such a manner as shook the whole island for many leagues. If his appearance pleased the master of life he was suffered to depart, and it was generally found that these animals plunged into the sea upon the north side of the island, and disappeared in the great forests beyond. Now at one time Chemanitou was a very long while building an ani- mal, of such great bulk, that it looked like a mountain upon the cen- tre of the island ; and all the manittoes, from all parts, came to see what it was. The Puck-wud-jinnies especially made themselves very merry, capering behind his great ears, sitting within his mouth, each perched upon a tooth, and running in and out of the sockets of the eyes, think- ing Chemanitou, who was finishing off other parts of the animal, could not see them. But he can see right through every thing he has made. He was glad to see them so lively, and bethought himself of many new creations while he watched their motions. When the Master of Life had completed this large animal, he was fear- ful to give it life, and so it was left upon the island, or work-table of Che^ manitou, till its great weight caused it to break through, and sinking partly down it stuck fast, the head and tail holding it in such a manner as to prevent it from going down. Chemanitou then lifted up a piece of the back, and found it made a very good cavity, into which the old creations, which failed to please him, might be thrown. He sometimes amused himself by making creatures very small and ac- tive, with which he disported awhile, and finding them of very little use in the world, and not so attractive as the little Vanishers, he would take out the life, holding it in himself, and then cast them into the cave made by the body of the unfinished animal. In this way great quantities of very odd shapes were heaped together in this Roncomcomon, or " Place of Fragments." He was always careful to first take out the life. One day the Master of Life took two pieces of clay and moulded them into two large feet, like those of a panther. He did not make four — there were two only. He stepped his own feet into them, and found the tread very light and springy, so that he might go with great speed, and yet make no noise. Next he built up a pair of very tall legs, in the shape of his own, and made them walk about awhile — he was pleased with the motion. Then followed a round body, covered with large scales, like the alligator. He now found the figure doubling forward, and he fastened a long black snake, that was gliding by, to the back part of the body, and let it wind itself about a sapling near, which held the body upright, and made a very good tail. S t i 124 INDIAN MYTHOLOGY. The shoulders were broad and strong, like those of the bufialoe, and covered with hair— the neck thick and short, and full at the back. Thus far Chemanitou had worked with little thought, but when he came to the head he thought a long while. He took a round ball of clay into his lap, and worked it over with great care. While he thought, he patted the ball upon the top, which made it very broad and low; for Chemanitou was thinking of the panther feet, and the buflaloe neck. He remembered the Puck-wud-jinnies playing in the eye sockets of the great unfinished animal, and he bethought him to set the eyes out, like those of a lobster, so that the animal might see upon every side. He made the forehead broad and full, but low ; for here was to be the wisdom of the forked tongue, like that of the serpent, which should be in his mouth. He should see all things, and know all things. Here Che- manitou stopped, for he saw that he had never thought of such a creation before, one with but two feet, a creature who should stand upright, and see upon every side. The jaws were very strong, with ivory teeth, and gills upon either side, which arose and fell whenever breath passed through them. The nose was like the beak of the vulture. A tuft of porcupine quills made the scalp-lock. Chemanitou held the head out the length of his arm, and turned it first upon one side and then upon the other. He passed it rapidly through the air, and saw the gills rise and fall, the lobster eyes whirl round, and the vulture nose look keen. Chemanitou became very sad ; yet he put the head upon the shoulders. It was the first time he had made un upright figure. It seemed to be the first idea of a man. It was now nearly night ; the bats were flying through the air, and the roar of wild beasts began to be heard. A gusty wind swept in from the ocean, and passed over the island of Metowac, casting the light sand to and fro. A heavy scud was skimming along the horizon, while higher up in the sky was a dark thick cloud, upon the verge of which the moon hung for a moment, and then was shot in. A panther came by and stayed a moment, with one foot raised and bent inward, while he looked up at the image, and smelt the feet, that were like his own. A vulture swooped down with a great noise of its wings, and made a dash at the beak, but Chemanitou held him back. Then came the porcupine, and the lizard, and the snake, each drawn by its kind in the image. Chemanitou veiled his face for many hours, and the gusty wind swept by, but he did not stir. He saw that every beast of the earth seeketh its kind ; and that which is like draweth its likeness unto himself s-if INDIAN MYTHOLOGY. 13ft Tho Master of Life thought and thought. The idea grew into his mind that at some tune he would create a creature who should be made not after the things of the earth, but afler himself He should link this world to the spirit world, — being made in the like* ness of the Great Spirit, he should be drawn unto his likeness.. Many days and nights, whole seasons, passed while Chemanitou tnought upon these things. He saw all things. Then the Master of Life liAed up his head ; the stars were looking down upon the image, and a bat had alighted upon the forehead, spreading its great wings upon each side. Chemanitou took the bat and held out its whole leathery wings, (and ever since the bat, when he rests, lets hia body hang down,) so that he could try them over the head of the image. He then took the life of the bat away, and twisted off the body, by which means the whole thin part fell down over the head, and upon each side, making the ears, and a covering for the forehead like that of the hooded serpent. Chemanitou did not cut off the face of the image below, he went on and made a chin, and lips that were firm and round, that they might shut in the forked tongue, and the ivory teeth ; and he knew that with the lips and the chin it would smile, when life should be given to it. The image was now all done but the arms, and Chemanitou saw that with a chin it must have hands. He grew more grave. He hgd never given hands to any creature. He made the arms and the hands very beautiful, after the manner of his own. Chemanitou now took no pleasure in his work that was done — it was not good in his sight. Ho wished he had not given it hands ; might it not, when trusted with life, might it not begin to create ? might it not thwart the plans of the master of life himself I He looked long at the image. He saw what it would do when life should be given it. He knew all things. He now put fire in the image : but fire is not life. He put fire within, and a red glow passed through and through it The fire dried the clay of which it was made, and gave the image an ex- ceedingly fierce aspect. It shone through the scales upon the breast, and the gills, and the bat-winged ears. The lobster eyes were like a living coal. Chemanitou opened the side of the image, btct he did not enter. He had given it hands and a chin. It could smile like the manittoes themselves. He made it walk all about the island of Metowac, that he might see how it would act. This he did by means of his will. He now put a little life mto it, but he did not take out the fire. Che- manitou saw the aspect of the creature would be very terrible, and yet that i ) "! id6 INDIAN MYTHOtOOT. he could smile in such a manner that he ceased to be ugly. He thought much upon these things. He felt it would not be best to let such a creature live; a creature made up mostly from the beasts of the field, but with hands of power, a chin liAing the head upward, and lips holding all things within themselves. While he thought upon these things, he took the image in his hands and cast it into the cave. But Chemanitou forgot to take out the life ! The creature lay a long time in the cave and did not stir, for his fall was very great. He lay amongst the old creations that had been thrown in there without life. Now when a long time had passed Chemanitou heard a great noise in the cave. He looked in and saw the image sitting there, and he was try- ing to put together the old broken things that had been cast in as of no value. Chemanitou gathered together a vast heap of stones and sand, for large rocks are not to be had upon the island, and stopped the mouth of the cave. Many days passsed and the noise grew louder within the cave. The earth shook, and hot smoke came from the ground. The Manittoes crowded to Metdwac to see what was the matter. Chemanitou came also, for he remembered the image he had cast in there, and forgotten to take away the life. Suddenly there was a great rising of the stones and sand — the sky grew black with wind and dust. Fire played about the ground, and water gurhed high into the air. All the Manittoes fled with fear ; and the image came forth with a great noise and most terrible to behold. His life had grown strong within him, for the fire had made it very fierce. Everything fled before him and cried — Machinito— MACHrmro— which means a god, but an evil god ! The above legend is gathered from the traditions of lagou, the great Indian narrator, who seems to have dipped deeper into philosophy than most of his compeers. The aboriginal language abounds with stories re- lated by this remarkable personage, which we hope to bring before tho public at some future time. Whether subsequent events justify the Indian in making Long Island the arena of the production of Machinito or the Evil Spirit, will seem more than apocryphal to a white resident. How- ever we have nothing to do except to relate the fact as it was related. ' As to these primitive metaphysics, they are at least curious ; and the cool- ness with which the fact is assumed that the origin of evil was accidental in the process of developing a perfect humanity, would, at an earlier day, have been quite appalling to the schoolmen. £. O. S. I REPOSE OP THE SOUL. When an Indian corpse is put in a coffin, among the tribes of the Lake> Algonquins, the lid is tied down, and not nailed. On depositing it in the grave, the rope or string is loosed, and the weight of the earth alone relied on, to keep it in a fixed position. The reason they give for this, is, that the soul may have free egress from the body. Over the top of the grave a covering of cedar bark is put, to shed the rain. This is roof-shaped and the whole structure looks, slightly, like a house in miniature. It has gable ends. Through one of these, being the head, an aperture is cut. On asking a Chippewa why this was done, he replied, — " To allow the soul to pass out, and in." " I thought," I replied, " that you believed that the soul went up from the body at the time of death, to a land of happiness. How, then, can it remain in the body ?" " There are two souls," replied the Indian philosopher. " How can this be ? my friend." " It is easily explained," said he. " You know that, in dreams, we pass over wide countries, and see hills and lakes and mountains, and many scenes, which pass before our eyes, and affect us. Yet, at the same time, our bodies do not stir, and there is a soul left with the body, — else it would be dead. So, you perceive, it must be another soul that accompanies us." This conversation took place, in the Indian country. I knew the In- dian very well, and had uoticed the practice, not general now, on the fron* tiers, of tying the coffin-lid, in burials. It is at the orifice in the bark sheeting mentioned, that the portion of food, consecrated in feasts for the dead, is set. It could not but happen, that the food should be eaten by the hystrix, wolf, or some other animal, known to prowl at night ; nor that, Indian superstition, ever ready to turn slight appearances of this kind to IGCOunt, should attribute its abstraction to the spirit of the deceased. THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN. AN ODJIBWA FAIRY TALE. *y. WEITTEN OUT FROM THE VERBAL NARRATIVE BY THE LATE MRS. H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT. There was once a little boy, remarkable for the smallness of his stature. He was living alone with his sister older than himself. They were orphans, th^y lived in a beautiful spot on the Lake shore ; nany large rocks were 127 12B THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN. ■cattered aiound their habitation. The boy never grew larger as he advanced in years. One day, in winter, he asked his sister to make him a ball to ploy with along shore on the clear ice. She made one for him, but cautioned him not to go too far.—Off he went in high glee, throwing his ball before him, and running after it at full speed ; and he went as fast as his ball. At last his ball flew to a great distance : ho followed it as fast as he could. After he had run for some time, he saw four dark substances on the ice straight before him. When ho came up to the spot he was sur- prised to see lour large, tall men lying on the ice, spearing fish. When he went up to them, the nearest looked up and in turn was surprised to see such a diminutive being, and turning to his brothers, he said, " Tia! look ! see what a little fellow is here." After they had all looked a mo- ment, they resumed their position, covered their heads, intent in searching for fish. The boy thought to himself, they imagine me too insignificant for common courtesy, because they are tall and large ; I shall teach them notwithstanding, that I am not to be treated so lightly. After they were covered up the boy saw they had each a large trout lying beside them. He slyly took the one nearest him, and placing his fingers in the gills, and tossing his ball before him, ran off at full speed. When the man to whom the fish belonged looked up, he saw his trout sliding away as if of itself, at a great rate — the boy being so small he was not distinguished from the fish. He addressed his brothers and said, " See how that tiny boy has stolen my fish ; what a shame it is he should do so." The boy reached home, and told his sister to go out and get the fish he had brought home. She exclaimed, " where could you have got it? I hope you have not stolen it." " O no," he replied, " I found it on the ice." " How" per- sisted the sister, "could you have got it there ?" — " No matter," said the boy, " go and cook it." He disdained to answer her again, but thought he would one day show her how to appreciate him. She went to the place he left it, and there indeed she found a monstrous trout. She did as she was bid, and cooked it for that day's consumption. Next morning he went off again as at first. When he came near the large men, who fished every day, he threw his ball with such force that it rolled into the ice-hole of the man of whom he had stolen the day before. As he happened to raise himself at the time, the boy said, " Neejee, pray hand me my ball." " No indeed," answered the man, " I shall not," and thrust the ball under the ice. The boy took hold of his arm and broke it in two in a moment, and threw him to one side, and picked up his ball, which had bounded back from under the ice, and tossed it as usual before him. Outstripping it in speed, he got home and remained within till the next morning. The man whose arm he had broken hallooed out to his brothers, and told them his case, and deplored his fate. They hurried to their brother, and as loud as they could roar threatened vengeance on the morrow, knowing THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN. 129 of the boy'e speed that they could not ovortfike him, and he was neat out of sight ; yet he heard their throats and awaited their coming in perfect in- difference. The four brothers the next morning prepared to take their revenge. Their old mother begp^^d iliem not to go — " Better" said she "that one only should suffer, than that nil should perish , for he must be a monedo, or ho could not perfonn such feats." But her sons would not lis- ten ; and taking their wounded brother along, started for the boy's lodge, having loarnt that he lived at liic place of rocks. The boy's sister thought she heard the noise of snow-shoos on the crusted snow at a distance ad- vancing. She saw the large, tall men coming straight to their lodge, or rather cave, for they lived in a largo rock. She ran in with great fear, and told her brother the fact. He said, " Why do you mind them? give me something to eat." " How can you think of eating at such a time," she replied, — " Do as I request you, and be quick." She then gave him his dish, which was a large mis-qua-dacc shell, and he commenced eating. Just then the men came to the door, and were about lifting the curtain placed there, when the boy-man turned his dish upside-down, and immediately the door was closed with a stone ; the men tried hard with their clubs to crack it ; at length they succeeded in making a slight opening. When one of them peeped in with one eye, the boy-mnn shot his arrow into his eye and brain, and he dropped down dead. The others, not knowing what had happened their brother, did the same, and all fell in like manner; their curiosity was so great to see what the boy was about. So they all shared the same fate. After they were killed the boy-man told his sister to go out and see them. She opened the door, but feared they were not dead, and entered back again hastily, and told her fears to her brother. He went out and hacked them in small pieces, saymg, "henceforth let no man be larger than you are now. So rnen became of the present size. When spring came on, the boy-man said to his sister, " Make me a new set of arrows and bow." She obeyed, as he never did any thing himself of a na- ture that required manual labour, though he provided for their sustenance. After she made them, she again cautioned him not to shoot into i.e lake; but regardless of all admonition, he, on purpose, shot his arrow into the lake, and waded some distance till he got into deep water, and paddled about for his arrow, so as to attract the attention of his sister. She came in haste to the shore, calling him to return, but instead of minding her he called out, " Ma-mis-quon-je-gun-a, be-nau-wa-con-zhe-shin," that is, " you, of the red fins come and swallow me." Immediately that monstrous fish came and swallowed him ; and seeing his sister standing on the shore in despair, he hallooed out to her, " Me-zush-ke-zin-ance." She wondered what he meant. But on reflection she thought it must lo an old mockesin. She accordingly tied the old mockesin to a string, and fasteTied it to a tree. The fish said to the boy-man, under water, "What is that fiouting?" the boy-man said to the fish, " Go, take hold of it, swallow it as fast as yovt 9 !t!l 130 THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN. cac." The fish darted towards the old shoe, and swallowed it The bojr* man laughed in himself, but said nothing, till the fish was fairly caught ; he then took hold of the line and began to pull himself and fish to shore. The sister, who was watching, was surprised to see so large a fish ; and hauling it ashore she took her knife and commenced cutting it open. When she heard her brother's voice inside of the fish, saying, " Make haste and release me from this nasty place," his sister was in such haste that she almost hit his head with her knife ; bu. succeeded in making an opening large enough for her brother to get out. When he was fairly out, he told his sister to cut up the fish and dry it, as it would last a long time for their sustenance, and said to her, never, never more to doubt his ability in any way. Sc ends the story. ^ AINGODON AND NAYVADAHA. rrORT OF A FAMILY OF NADOWA8, Ml PEOPLE OF THE SIX NATIONS OF TORONTO, CONSISTING OF SIX BROTHERS, THEIR YOUNGEST SISTER, AND TWO AUNTS. THEIR FATHER AND MOTHER HAYING DIED, THEY WERE LEFT ORPHANS, THEIR ORIGIN, BOWBYER, WAS FROM THE FIRST CLASS OF CHIEFTAINS IN THEIR NATION. NARRATED PROM THE ORAL RELATION OP NABANOI, BY MR. GEORGE JOHNSTON. In the days of this story, wars, murders, and cruelty existed in the country now comprising the province of Upper Canada, or that portion bordering upon Lakes Simcoe, Erie, and Ontario, which was claimed and belonged to the powerful tribe of the eight nations of the Nawtovvays. The young men had, on a day, started for a hunting excursion : in the , evening five only of the brothers returned, one was missing. Upon search being made the body was found, and it appeared evident that he had been killed : this gave a great blow to the family, but particularly causing great affliction to the sister, who was the youngest of the family. She mourned and lamented her brother's death, and she wept incessantly. The ensuing year another was killed, and so on till four were killed. The remaining two brothers did all they could to afibrd consolation to their pining sister, but she would not be consoled : they did all they could to divert her mind from so much mourning, but all their endeavours proved ineffectual: she scarcely took any food, and what she ate was hardly sufficient to sustain nature. The two brothers said that they would go hunting, which they did from day to day. They would bring AINGODON AND NATWADAHA. 131 ducks and birds of every description to their sister, in order to tempt her appetite, but she persisted in refusing nourishment, or taking very little. At the exp'ration of the year when the fourth brother had been killed, the two young men set out upon the chase ; one of them returned in the evening, the other was missing, and found killed in like manner as the others had been. This again augmented the afflictions of the young girl ; she had been very delicate, but was now reduced to- a mere skeleton. At the expiration of the year the only and last of her brothers, taking pity upon his pining sister, said to her that he would go and kill her some fresh venison, to entice her to eat. He started early in the morning, and his sister would go out from time to time, in the course of the day, to see if her bro- ther was returning. Night set in, and no indications of his coming — she sat up all night, exhibiting fear and apprehension bordering upon despair — day light appeared, and he did not come — search was made, and he was finally found killed, like all the other brothers. After this event the girl be- came perfectly disconsolate, hardly tasting food, and would wander in the woods the whole day, returfting at nights. One of her aunts had the care of her at this time. One day in one of her rambles she did not return ; her aunt became very anxious, and searched for her, and continued her search daily. On the tenth day, the aunt in her search lost her way and was bewildered, and finally was benighted. While lying down, worn with fatigue, she thought she heard the voice of some one speaking : she got up, and directing her course to the spot, she came upon a small lodge made of bushes, and in it lay her niece, with her face to the ground. She pre- vailed upon her to return home. Before reaching their lodge the girl stopt, and her aunt built her a small lodge, and she resided in it. Here her aunt would attend upon her daily. One day as she lay alone in her little lodge, a person appeared to her from on high : he had on white raiment that was extremely pure, clean and white : he did not touch the earth, but remained at some distance from it. He spoke to her in a mild tone and said. Daughter, why do you remain here mourning ? I have come to console you, and you must arise, and I will give you all the land, and deliver into your hands the persons who have killed your brothers. All things living and created are mine, I give • and take away. Now therefore arlje, slay and eat of my dog that lays there. You will go to your village and firstly tell your relatives and na- tion of this vision, and you must act conformably to my word and to the mind I'll give you, and your enemies will 1 put into your hands. I will be with you again. After this, he ascended on high. When the girl looked to the place where the heavenly being pointed, she saw a bear. She arose and went home, and mentioned to her relatives the vision she had seen, and made a request that the people might be assembled to partake of her feast. She directed her relations to the spot where the bear was to be found ; it wai 132 AINOODON AND NAYWADAHA. IsilM and brought to the village, and singed upon a fire, and the feast was made, and the nature of the vision explained. Preparations were im- mediately set on foot, messengers were sent to each tribe of the six nations, and an invitation given to them, to come upon a given day to the village of Toronto. Messengers were also sent all along the north coast of lake Huron to Bawiting, inviting the Indians to form an alliance and fight against the enemies of the young girl who had lost so many brothers. In the midst of the Nadowas. there lived two chieftains, twin brothers. They were Nadowas also of the Bear tribe, perfect devils in disposition, cruel and tyrannical. They were at the head of two nations of the Na- dowas, reigning together, keeping the other nations in great fear and awe, and enslaving them ; particularly the Indians of the Deer totem, who re- sided in one portion of their great village. Indians in connection with the Chippewas were also kept in bondage by the two tyrants, whose names were Aingodon and Naywadaha. When the Chippewas received the young girl's messengers, they were told that they must rescue their re- latives, and secretly apprize them of their intention, and the great calamity that would befall Aingodon and Naywadaha's villages and towns. Many therefore made their escape ; but one remained with his family, sending an excuse for not obeying the summons, as he had a great quan- tity of corn laid up, and that he must attend to his crops. The Indians all along the north shore of lake Huron and of Bawiting, embarked to join the general and common cause; they passed through the lakes, and reached Toronto late in the fall. In the beginning of the winter the aijsem- bled allies marched, headed by the young girl. She passed through lake Simcoe, and the line covered the whole lake, cracking the ice as they marched over it. They encamped at the head of the lake. Here the young girl produced a garnished bag, and she hung it up, and told the assembled multitude 'hat she would make chingodam ; and after this she sent hunters out directing them to bring in eighteen bears, and before the sun had risen high the bears were all brought in, and they were singed, and the feast of sacrifice oiTered. At this place the person from on high appeared to the girl in presence of the assembled multitude, and he stretched forth his hand and shook hands with her only. He here directed her to send secret messengers into the land, to warn the Indians who had the deer totem to put out their totems on poles before their lodge door, in order that they might be known and saved from the approaching destruc- tion ; and they were enjoined not to go out of their lodges, neither man, woman, or child ; if they did so they would be surely consumed and de- aitroyed ; and the person on high said — Do not approach nigh the open plain until the rising sun, you will then see destruction come upon your enemies, and they will be delivered into your hands. The messengers were sent to the Deer Totems, and they entered the town at night, and communicated their message to them. After this all AINGODON AND NAYWADAHA. 133 the Indians bearing that mark were informed of the approaching calamity, and they instantly made preparations, setting >ut poles before their lodge doors, and attaching deer skins to the poles, as marks to escape the ven- geance that was to come upon Aingodon and Nawadaha, and their tribes. The next morning at daylight the Aingodons and Nawadahas rose, and seeing the poles and deer skins planted before the doors of the lodges, said in derision, that their friends, the Deer Totems, had, or must have had, bad d reams, thus to set their totems on poles. The Indians of the deer totems remained quiet and silent, and they did not venture out of their lodges. The young girl was nigh the skirts of the wood with her host, bordering upon the plain ; and just as the sun rose she marched, and as she and her allied forces neared the village of the twin tyrants, it became a flame of fire, de- stroying all its inhabitants. The Deer Totems escaped. Aingodon and Na- wadaha were not consumed. The allied Indians drew their bows and shot their arrows at them, but they bounded ofl^, and the blows inflicted upon them were of no avail, until the young girl came up and subdued them, and took them alive, and made them prisoners. The whole of Aingodon's and Nawadaha's towns and villages were destroyed in the same way ; and the land was in possession of the young girl and the six remaining tribes of the Nadowas. After this signal ven- geance was taken the young girl returned with her host, and again en- camped at the head of lake Simcoe, at her former encamping place ; and the two tyrants were asked, what was their object for making chingodam, and what weight could it have? They said, in answer, that their imple- ments for war, were war axes, and if permitted they would make chingodam, and on doing so they killed each two men. They were bound immediately, and their flesh was cut off from their bodies in slices. One of them was dissected, and upon examination it was discovered that he had no liver, and his heart was small, and composed of hard flint stone. There are marks upon a perpendicular ledge of rocks at the narrows, or head of lake Simcoe, visible to this day, representing two bound persons, who are re- cognized by the Indians of this generation as the two tyrants, or twin brothers, Aingodon and Nawadaha. One of the tyrants was kept bound, until the time the French discovered and possessed the Canadas, and he was taken to duebec. After this the young girl was taken away by the god of light. GEO. JOHNSTON. Sault Ste. Marie, Map I2th, 1838. The Indian warriors of the plains west of the sources of the Mississippi, chew a bitter root, before going into battle, which they suppose impartc courage, and renders them insensible to pain. It is called zhigowak. «« SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OP lOTED EED MEN AND WOMEN WHO HAVE APPEARED ON THE WESTERN CONTINENT. WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. This individual kas indelibly interwoven his name with the history of the Chippewa nation, during the latter half of the 18th century. His an- cestors had, from the earliest times, held the principal chieftainship in lake Superior. His father, Ma-mongazida, was the ruling chief during the war of the conquest of the Canadas by the British crown. In common with his tribe and the northern nations generally, he was the fast friend of the French government, and was present with his warriors, under Gen. Montcalm, at the loss of duebec, in 1759. He carried a short speech from that celebrated officer to his people in the north, which is said to have been verbally delivered a short time before he went to the field. The period of the fall of the French power in the Canadas, is one of the most marked events in Indian reminiscence throughout all northwest America. They refer to the days of French supremacy as a kind of golden era, when all things in their affairs were better than they now are ; and I have heard them lament over the change as one which was in every respect detrimental to their power and happiness. No European nation, it is evident from these allusions, ever pleased them as well. The French character and manners adapted themselves admirably to the exist- ing customs of forest life. The common people, who went up into the in' terior to trade, fell in with their cu oms with a degree of plasticity and an air of gaiety and full assent, whicli no other foreigners have, at least to the same extent, shown. These Couriers du Bois had not much to boast of on the score of rigid morals themselves. They had nearly as much su- perstition as the wildest Indians. They were in fact, at least nine-tenths of them, quite as illiterate. Very many of them were far inferior in their mental structure and capacity to the bold, eloquent, and well formed and athletic northern chiefs and hunters. They respected their religious and festive cSremonies. They never, as a chief once told me, laughed at them. They met their old friends on their annual returns from Montreal, with a kiss. They took the daughters of the red men for wives, and reared large families, who thus constituted a strong bond of union between Um two races, which remains unbroken at this day. ^ 134 i WABOJEEO, OR THE WHITE FISHER. 135 This is the true secret of the strenuous efforts made by the nortnern and western Indians to sustain the French power, when it was menaced in the war of 1744, by the fleets and armies of Great Britain. They rallied freely to their aid at Detroit, Vincennes, the present sites of Pittsburg and Erie, at Fort Niagara, Montreal, and Quebec, and they hovered with m- furiated zeal around the outskirts of the northern and western settlements, during the many and sanguinary wars carried on between the English and French. And when the French were beaten they still adhered to their cause, and their chiefs stimulated the French local commanders to continue and renew the contest, even after the fall of Niagara and duebec, with a heroic consistency of purpose, which reflects credit upon their fore- sight, bravery, and constancy. We hope in a future number to bring for- ward a sketch of the man who put himself at the head of this latter effort, who declared he would drive the Saxon race into the sea, who beseiged twelve and took nine of the western stockaded forts, and who tor four years and upwards, maintained the war, after the French had struck their colours and ceded the country. We refer to the great Algic leader, Pontiac. At present our attention is called to a cotemporary chief, of equal per- sonal bravery and conduct, certainly, but who lived and exercised his au- thority at a more remote point, and had not the same masses and means at his command. This point, so long hid in the great forests of the north, and which, indeed, has been but lately revealed in our positive geography, is the AREA OF Lake Superior. It is here that we And the Indian tradition to be rife with the name of Wabojeeg and his wars, and his cotemporaries. It was one of the direct consequences of so remote a position, that it with- drew his attention more from the actual conflicts between the French and English, and fixed them upon his western and southern frontiers, which were menaced and invaded by the numerous bands of the Dacotahs, and by the perfidious kinsmen of his nation, the Outagamies and Saucs. He came into active life, too, as a prominent war leader, at the precise era when the Canadas had fallen into the British power, and by engaging zealously in the defence of the borders of his nation west, he allowed time to mitigate and adjust those feelings and attachments which, so far as pub- lic policy was concerned, must be considered to have moulded the Indian mind to a compliance with, and a submission to, the British ajuthority. Wabojeeg was, emphatically, the defender of the Chippewa domain against the efforts of other branches of the Red Race. He did not, therefore, lead his people to fight, as his father, Ma-mongazida, and nearly all the great Indian war captains had, to enable one type of the foreign race to triumph over another, but raised his parties and led them forth to maintain his tribal supremacy. He may be contemplated, therefore, as having had a more patriotic object for his achievement. Lake Superior, at the time of our earliest acquaintance with the region, was occupied, as it is at this day, by the Chippewa race. The chief seat 188 WABOJEEO, OR THE WHITE FISHEB. of their power appeared to be near the southwestern extremity of the lake, ' at Chagoimegon, where fathers Marquette and AUoez found their way, and established a mission, ao early as 1668. Another of their principal, and probably more ancient seats, was at the great rapids on the outlet of that lake, which tbey named the Sault de Ste. Marie. It was in allusion to their residence here that they called this tribe Saulteur, that is to say people of the leap or rapid. Indian tradition makes the Chippewas one of the chief, certainly by fac the most nujnerous and widely spread, of the Algonquin stock proper. It represents them to have migrated from the east to the west. On reaching the vicinity of Michiiimackinac, they separated at a comparatively mo- derate era into three tribes, calling themselves, respectively, Odjibwas, Odawas, and Podawadumees. What their name was before this era, is not known. It is manifest that the term Odjibwa is not a very ancient one, for it does not occur in the earliest authors. They were probably of the Nipercinean or. true Algonquin stock, and had taken the route of the Utawas river, from the St. Lawrence valley into lake Huron. The term itself is clearly from Bwa, a voice ; and its prefix in Odji, was probably designed to mark a peculiar intonation which the muscles are, as it were, gathered up, to denote. Whatever be the facts of their origin, they had taken the route up the straits of St. Mary into lake Superior, both sides of which, and far beyond, they occupied at the era of the French discovery. It is evident that their course in this direction must have been aggressive. They were advanc- ing towards the west and northwest. The tribe known as Kenistenos, had passed through the Lake of the Woods, through the great lake Nipe- sing, and as far as the heads of the Saskatchewine and the portage of the Missinipi of Hudson's bay. The warlike band of Leech Lake, called Mukundwas, had spread themselves over the entire sources of the Missis- sippi and extended their hunting excursions west to Red River, where they came into contact with the AssinaboineS, or Stone Sioux. The central power, at this era, still remained at Chagoimegon, on Superior, where in- deed, the force of early tradition asserts there was maintained something like a frame of both civil and ecclesiastical polity and government. 'It is said in the traditions related to me by the Chippewas, that the Ou- tagamies, or Foxes, had preceded them into that particular section of coun- try which extends in a general course from the head of Fox River, of Green Bay, towards the Falls of St. Anthony, reaching in some points well nigh to the borders of lake Superior. They are remembered to have occupied the interior wild rice lakes, which lie at the sources of the Wisconsin, the Ontonagon, the Chippewa, and the St. Croix rivers. They weVe associated with the Saucs, who had ascended the Mississippi some distance above the Falls of St. Anthony, where they lived on friendly terms with the Dacotahs or Sioux. This friendship extended also to the Outagamies, and it was s-X"- WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. 137 e s (he means of preserving a good understanding between the Dacotahs and Chippewas. - - The Fox tribe is closely afRliated with the Chippewas, They call each other brothers. They are of the same general origin and speak the same general language, the chief difTerence in sound being that the Foxes use the letter 1, where the Odjibwas employ an n. The particular cause of their disagreement is not known. They are said by the Chippewas to have been unfaithful and treacherous. Individual quarrels and trespasses on their hunting grounds led to murders, and in the end to a war, in which the Menomonees and the French united, and they were thus driven from the rice lakes and away from the Fox and upper Wisconsin. To main- tain their position they formed an alliance with the Sioux, and fought by their side. It was in this contest that Wabojeeg first distinguished himself, and vin- dicated by his bravery and address the former reputation of his family, and laid anew the foundations of his northern chieftaindom. Having heard allusions made to this person on my first entrance into that region, many years ago, I made particular enquiries, and found living a sister, an old white-headed woman, and a son and daughter, about the age of middle life. From these sources I gleaned the following facts. He was born, as nearly as I could compute the time, about 1747. By a singular and romantic incident his father, Ma-mongazida, was a half-brother of the father of "W ibashaw, a celebrated Sioux chief, who but a few years ago died at his village on the upper Mississippi. The connexion happened in this way. While the Sioux and Chippewas were living in amity near each other, and frequently met and feasted each other on their hunting grounds and at their villages, a Sioux chief, of distinction, admired and married a Chip* pewa girl, by whom he had two sons. When the war between these two nations broke out, those persons of the hostile tribes who had married Chippewa wives, and were living in the Chippewa country, withdrew, some taking their wives along and others separating from them. Among the latter was the Sioux chief. He remained a short time after hostilities commenced, but finding his position demanded it, he was compelled, with great reluctance, to leave his wife behind, as she could not, with safety, have accompanied him into the Sioux territories. As the blood of the Sioux flowed in the veins of her two sons, neither was it safe for her to leave them among the Chippewas. They were, however, by mutual agreement, allowed to return with the father. The eldest of these sons became the father of Wabashaw. • The mother thus divorced by the mutual consent of all parties, re- mained inconsolable for some time. She was still young and handsome, and after a few years, became the wife of a young Chippewa chief of Chagoimegon, of the honoured totem of the Addick or reindeer. Her I 138 WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. first child by this second marriage, was Ma Mongazida, the fathei of Wabojeeg. In this manner, a connexion existed between two families, of separate hostile nations, each of which distinguished itself, for bravery and skill in war and council. It has already been stated that Ma Monga- zida was present, on the side of the French, in the great action in which both Montcalm and Wolf fell, and he continued to exercise the chieftain- ship till his death, when his second son succeeded him. It was one of the consequences of the liostility of the Indians to the English rule, that many of the remote tribes were left, for a time, without traders to supply their wants. This was the case, tradition asserts, with Chagoimegon, which, for two years after the taking of old Mackinac, was left without a trader. To remonstrate against this, Ma Mongazida visited Sir William Johnsonj the superintendant general of Indian affairs, by whom he was well received, and presented with a broad wampum belt and gorget This act laid the foundation of a lasting peace between the Chip- pewas and the English. The belt, it is added, was of blue wampum, with figures of white. And when Wabojeeg came to the chieftainship, he took from it the wampum employed by him to muster his wai parties. In making traditionary enquiries I have found that the Indian narra- tors were careful to preserve and note any fact, in the early lives of their distinguished men, which appeared to prefigure their future eminence, or had any thing of the wonderful or premonitory, in its character. The following incident of this sort, was noticed respecting this chief Ma Mongazida generally went to make his fall hunts on the middle grounds towards the Sioux territory, taking with him all his near relatives, amount- ing usually to twenty persons, exclusive of children. Early one morning while the young men were preparing for the chase, they were startled by the report of several shots, directed towards the lodge. As they had thought themselves in security, the first emotion was surprise, and they had scarcely time to fly to their arms, when another volley was fired, which wounded one man in the thigh, and killed a dog. Ma Mongazida immediately sallied out with his young men, and pronouncing his name aloud in the Sioux language, demanded if Wabasha or his brother, were among the assailants. The firing instantly ceased — a pause ensued, when a tall figure, in a war dress, with a profusion of feathers upon his head, stepped forward and presented his hand. It was the elder Wabasha, his half brother. The Sioux peaceably followed their leader into the lodge, upon which they had, the moment before, directed their shots. At the in- stant the Bioux chief entered, it was necessary to stoop a little, in passing the doir. In the act of stooping, he received a blow from a war- club wielded by a small boy, who had posted himself there for the pur- pose. It was the young Wabojeeg. Wabasha, pleased with this early indication of courage, took the little lad in his arms, caressed him, and WABOJEEQ, OR THE WHITE FIBHER. 139 pronounced that he would become a brave man, and prove an inveterate enemy of the Sioux. The border warfare in which the father of the infant warrior was con- stantly engoged, early initiated him in the arts and ceremonies pertaining to war. With the eager interest and love of novelty of the young, he lis- tened to their war songs and war stories, and longed for the time when he would be old enough to join these parties, and also make himself a name among warriors. While quite a youth he volunteered to go out with a party, and soon gave convincing proofs of his courage. He also early learned the arts of hunting the deer, the bear, the moose, and all the smaller animals common to the country ; and in these pursuits, he took the ordinary lessons of Indian young men, in abstinence, sufiering, dan- ger and endurance of fatigue. In this manner his nerves were knit and formed for activity, and his mind stored with those lessons of caution which are the result of local experience in the forest. He possessed a tall and commanding person, with a full black piercing eye, and the usual features of his countrymen. He had a clear and full toned voice, and spoke his native language with grace and fluency. To these attractions, he united an early reputation for bravery and skill in the chase, and at the age of twenty-two, he was already a war leader. Expeditions of one Indian tribe against another, require the utmost caution, skill, and secrecy. There are a hundred things to give informa- tion to such a party, or influence its action, which are unknown to civilized nations. The breaking of a twig, the slightest impression of a foot print, and other like circumstances, determine a halt, a retreat, or an advance. The most scrupulous attention is also paid to the signs of the heavAis, the flight of birds, and above all, to the dreams and predictions of the jossakeed, priest, or prophet, who accompanies them, and who is entrusted with the sacred sack. The theory upon which all these parties are conducted, is secrecy and stratagem : to steal upon the enemy unawares ; to lay in am- bush, or decoy ; to kill and to avoid as much as possible the hazard of being killed. An intimate geographical knowledge of the country, is also required by a successful war leader, and such a man piques himself, not only on knowing every prominent stream, hill, valley, wood, or rock, but the particular productions, animal, and vegetable, of the scene of opera- tions. When it is considered that this species of knowledge, shrewdness and sagacity, is possessed on both sides, and that the nations at war watch each other, as a lynx for its prey, it may be conceived, that many of these border war parties are either light skirmishes, sudden on-rushes, or utter failures. It is seldom that a close, well contested, long continued hard battle is fought. To kill a few men, tear off their scalps in haste, and retreat with these trophies, is a brave and honourable trait with them, and may be boasted of, in their triumphal dances and warlike festivities. To glean the details of these movements, would be to acquire the 140 WABOJEEO, OR THE WHI TE FISHER. modern history of the tribe, which induced me to direct my enquiries to the subject ; but the lapse of even forty or fiAy years, had shorn tradition of most of these details, and often left the memory of results only. The Chippevvas told me, that this chief had led them seven times to successful battle against the Sioux and the Outagamies, and that he had been wounded thrice — once in the thigh, once in the right shoulder, and a t^ird time in the side and breast, being a glancing shot. His war parties consisted either of volunteers who had joined his standard at the war dance, or of auxiliaries, who had accepted his messages of wampum and tobacco, and come forward in a body, to the appointed place of rendezvous. These parties varied greatly in number ; his first party consisted of but forty men, his greatest and most renowned^ of three hundred, who were mustered from the villages on the shores of the lake, as far east as St. Mary's falls. It is to the incidents of this last expedition, which had an important in- fluence on the progress of the war, that we may devote a few moments. The place of rendezvous was La PoirUe Chagomikq^on, or as it is called in modern days. La Pointe of Lake Superior. The jcene of the conflict, which was a long and bloody one, was the falls of the St. Croix. The two places are distant about two hundred and fifty miles, by the most di- rect route. This area embraces the summit land between Lake Superior and the upper Mississippi. The streams flowing each way interlock, which enables the natives to ascend them in their light canoes, and after carrying the latter over the portages, to descend on the opposite side. On this occasion Wabojeeg and his partizan army, ascended the Muskigo, or MauvailS river, to its connecting portage with the Namakagon branch of the St. Croix. On crossing the summit, they embarked in their small and light war canoes on their descent westward. This portion of the route was passed with the utmost c&ution. They were now rapidly approach- ing the enemy's borders, and every sign was regarded with deep attention. They were seven days from the time they first reached the waters of the St. Croix, until they found the enemy. They went but a short distance each day, and encamped. On the evening of the seventh day, the scouts discovered a large body of Sioux and Outagamies encamped on the lower side of the portage of the great falls of the St. Croix. The discovery was a surprise on both sides. The advance of the Chippewas had linded at the upper end of the portage, intending to encamp there. The Siou.x and their allies had just preceded them, from the lower part of the stream with the same object. The Foxes or Outagamies immediately fired, and a battle ensued. It is a spot indeed, from which a retreat either way is impracticable, in the face of an enemy. It is a mere neck of rugged rock. The river forces a passage through this dark and solid barrier. It is equally rapid and dangerous for canoes above and below. It cannot be crossed direct After the firing began Wabojeeg landed and brought up WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. 1^1 hi8 men. He directed a port of them to extend themselves in the wood around the small neck, or peninsula, of the portage, whence alone escape was possible. Both parties fought with bravery ; the Foxes with despera- tion. But they were outnumbered, overpowered, and defeated. Some attempted to descend the rapids, and were lost. A few only escaped. But the Chippewas paid dearly for their victory. Wabojeeg was slightly wounded in the breast : his brother was killed. Many brave warriors fell. It was a most sanguinary scene. The tradition of this battle is one of the most prominent and wide spread of the events of their modern history. I have conversed with more than one chief, whe dated his first military honours in youth, to this scene. It put an end to their feud with the Foxes, who retired from the intermediate rice lakes, and fled down the Wisconsin. It raised the name of the Chippewa leader, to the acme of his renown among his people : but Wabojeeg, as humane as he was brave, grieved over the loss of his people who had fallen in the action. This feeling was expressed touchingly and characteristically, in a war song, which he uttered after this victory which has been preserved by the late Mr. Johnston of St. Mary's, in the following stanzas. , On that day when our heroes lay low — lay low, On that day when our heroes lay low, I fought by their side, and thought ere I died, Just vengeance to take on the foe. Just vengeance to take on the foe. . On that day, wheu our chieftains lay dead — lay dead, ' On tha* da-/ when our chieftains lay dead, I fougnt hand to hand, at the head of my band. And here, on my breast, have 1 bled, ' ' And here, on my breast, have I bled. Our chiefs shall return no more — ^no more, Our chiefs shall return no more, ^ Nor their brothers of war, who can show scar for scar, Like women their fates shall deplore^-deplore. Like women their fate shall deplore. Five winters in hunting we'll spend — we'll spend. Five winters in hunting we'll spend, Till our youth, grown to men, we'll to war lead again. And our days, like our fathers, we'll end. And our days, like our fathers, we'll end. It is the custom of these tribes to go to war in the spring and summer, which are, not on^y comparatively seasons of leisure with them. 142 WABOJEEO, OR THE WHITE FISHER. but it is at these seasons that they are concealed and protected by th« foliage of the forest, and can approach the enemy unseen. At these annual returns of warmth and vegetation, they also engage in festivities and dances, during which the events and exploits of past yean are sang and recited : and while they derive fresh courage and stimulus to renewed exertions, the young, who are listeners, learn to emulate their fathers, and take their earliest lessons in the art of war. Nothing is done in the summer months in the way of hunting. The small furred animals are changing their pelt, which is out of season. The doe retires with her fawns, from the plains and open grounds, into thick woods. It is the general season of reproduction, and the red man for a time, intermits his war on the animal creation, to resume it against man. As the autumn approaches, he prepares for his fall hunts, by retiring from the outskirts of the settlements, and from the open lakes, shores, and streams, which have been the scenes of his summer festivities ; and pro* ceeds, after a short preparatory hunt, to his wintering grounds. This round of hunting, and of festivity and war, fills up the year ; ail the tribes conform in these general customs. There are no war parties raised in the w^inter. This season is exclusively devoted to securing the means of their subsistence and clothing, by seeking the valuable skins, which are to purchase their clothing and their ammunition, traps and arms. The hunting grounds of the chief, whose life we are considering, ex- tended along the southern shores of Lake Superior from the Montreal River, to the inlet of the Misacoda, or Burntwood River of Fond du Lac. If he ascended the one, he usually made the wide circuit indicated, and came out at the other. He often penetrated by a central route up the Maskigo. This is a region still abounding, but less so than formerly, in the bear, moose, beaver, otter, martin, and muskrat. Among the smallei animals are also to be noticed the mink, lynx, hare, porcupine, and par* tridge, and towards its southern and western limits, the Virginia deer. In this ample area, the La Pointe, or Ghagoimegon Indians hunted. It is a rule of the chase, that each hunter has a portion of the country assigned to him, on which he alone may hunt ; and there are conventional laws which de- cide all questions of right and priority in starting and killing game. In these questions, the chief exercises a proper authority, and it is thus in the power of one of these forest governors and magistrates, where they happen to be men of sound sense, judgment and manly independence, to make themselves felt and known, and to become true benefactors to their tribes. And such chiefs create an impression upon their followers, and leave a reputation behind them, which is of more value than their achievements in war. Wabojeeg excelled in both characters ; he was equally popular as a civil ruler and a war chief ; and while he administered justice to his peo- ple, he was an expert hunter, and .made due and ample provision for his WABOJEEO, OR THE WHITE FISHER. 143 family. He usually gleaned, in a season, by his traps and carbine, four packs of mixed furs, the avails of which were ample to provide clothing for all the members of his lodge circle, as well as to renew his supply of ammunition and other essential articles. On one occasion, he had a singular contest with a moose. Ho had gone out, one morning early, to set martin traps. He had set about forty, and was returning to his lodge, when he unexpectedly encountered a largo moose, in his path, which manifested a disposition to attack him. Being unarmed, and having nothing but a knife and small hatchet, which ho had carried to make his traps, he tried to avoid it. But the ani- mal came towards him in a furious manner. He took shelter behind a tree, shilling his position from tree to tree, retreating. At length, as he fled, he picked up a pole, and quickly untying his moccasin strings, he bound his knife to the end of the pole. He then placed himself in a favourable position, behind a tree, and when the moose came up, stabbed him several times in the throat and breast. At last, the animal, exhausted with the loss of blood, fell. He then dispatched him, and cut out his tongue to carry home to his lodge as a trophy of victory. When they went back to the spot, for the carcass, they found the snow trampled down in a wide circle, and copiously sprinkled with blood, which gave it the appearance of a battle-field. It proved to be a male of uncommon size. The domestic history of a native chief, can seldom be obtained. In the present instance, the facts that follow, may be regarded with interest, as having been obtained from residents of Chagoimegon, or from his descen- dants. He did not take a wife till about the age of thirty, and he then married a widow, by whom he had one son. He had obtained early notoriety as a warrior, which perhaps absorbed his attention. What causes there were to render this union unsatisfactory, or whether there were any, is not known ; but after the lapse of two years, he mar- ried a girl of fourteen, of the totem of the bear, by whom he had a family of six children. He is represented as of a temper and manners afTec- tionate and forbearing. He evinced thoughtfulness and diligence in the management of his aflairs, and the ordet and disposition of his lodge. When the hunting season was over, he employed his leisure moments in adding to the comforts of his lodge. His lodge was of an oblong shape, ten fathoms long, and made by setting two rowS' of posts firmly in the ground, and sheathing the sides and roof with the smooth bark of the birch. From the centre rose a post crowned with the carved figure of an owl, which he had probably selected as a bird of good omen, for it was neither his own nor his wife's totem. This figure was so placed, that it turned with the wind, and answered the purpose of a weather- cock. In person Wabojeeg was tall, being six feet six inches, erect in carriage, 144 WABOJEEG, OR THE WHITE FISHER. and of slender make. He possessed a commanding cou-ntenance, united to ease and dignity of manners. He was a ready and fluent speaker, and conducted personally the negotiations with the Fox and Sioux nations. It was perhaps twenty years after the battle on the St. Croix, which es- I tablished the Chippewa boundary in that quarter, and while his children ' ^ were still young, that there came to his village, in the capacity of a trader, a young gentleman of a respectable family in the north of Ireland, who formpd an exalted notion of his character, bearing, and warlike exploits. This visit, and his consequent residence on the lake, during the winter, became an important era to the chief, and has linked his name and me- mory with numerous persons in civilized life. Mr. Johnston asked the northern chief for his youngest daughter. Englishman, he replied, my daughter is yet youtig, and you cannot take her as white men have too often , taken our daughters. It will be time enough to think of complying with your request, when you return again to this lake in the summer. My daughter is my favourite child, and I cannot part with her, unless you will promise to acknowledge her by such ceremonies as white men use. You must ever keep her, and never forsake her. On this basis a union was formed, a union it may be said, between the Erse and Algonquin races — and it v. as faithfully adh-^red to, till his death, a period of thirty- seven years. Wabojeeg had impaired his health in the numerous war parties which he conducted across the wide summit which separated his hunting grounds from the Mississippi valley. A slender frame, under a life of incessant exertion, brought on a premature decay. Consumption revealed itself at a comparatively early age, and' he fell before this insidious disease, in a few years, at the early age of about forty-5ve. He died in 1793 at his native village of Chagoimegon. The incident which has been named, did not fail to make the forest chieftain acquainted with the leading truth of Christianity, in the revela- tion it makes of a saviour for all races. On the contrary, it is a truth which was brought to his knowledge and explained. It is, of course, not known with what particular ejects. As he saw his end approaching, he requested that his body might not be buried out of sight, but placed, ac- cording to a custom prevalent in the remoter bands of this tribe, on a form supported by posts, or a scaffold. This trait is, perhaps, natural to the hunter state. . , . ' . My friends when my spirit is fled — iS fled My friends when my spirit is fled, Ah, put me not bound, in the dark and cold ground, Where light shall no longer be shed — be shed, Where day-light no more shall be shed. •40 £ u s a li E II n fc g OJ tl WABOJEEG. OR THE V, HITE FISHER But lay me up scaffolded high— all high, Chiefs lay me up scaffolded high, Where my tribe shall still say, as they point to my clay, He ne'er from the foe sought to fly— to fly, He ne'er from the foe sought to fly. And children, who play on the shore — the shore, And children who play on the shore, As the war dance they beat, my name shall repeat, And the fate of their chieftan deplore— deplore. And the fate of their chieftain deplore. 145 MODE OP WRiriNO AN INDIAN LANGUAOE.. The rules of utterance of these tribes, after all that has been said ana written on the subject, are very simple, and determine the orthography, so iar, at least, as relates to distinctions for the long and short vowels. If, in writing Indian, the syllables be separated by hyphens, there need be no uncertainty respecting their sounds, and we shall be saved a world of somewhat over nice disquisition. A vowel preceded by a consonant, is always long, a vowel followed by a consonant is always short. A vowel between two consonanis, '. ^hort. A vowel standing by itself is always full or long. A few exr ^. of well known words will denote this. On ta' ri o. Ni ag' ar a. O we' go. Ti 6 ga. Os we go. I'-o-wa. Wis con' sin. Chi cd go. Wabash. Pe 6 ri a. Tf con de rd ga. Mis siss ip pi. O nef da. AI ab d ma O tis' CO. Or e gon. Write the words by whatever system of orthography you will, French, English, or German, and the vowel sounds will vindicate this distinction. If diphthongs have been used, for simple vowels, through early mistake or redundancy, the rule is the same. If they appear as proper diphthongs, they follow the rule of diphthongs. This principal of utterance appears to be a general and fixed law in the Indian languages as respects the sounds of e, i, 0, u, aud the two chief sounds of a, 1 and 3 of Walker's Key. A« the letter a 'jas four distinct sounds, as in English, the chief discrepancies, Men abova, will appear in the use of this letter. ■4 4 J m SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OF NOTED RED MEN AND WOMEN, WHO HAVE APPEARED ON THE WESTERN CONTINENT. i. ■ BRANT, RED JACKET, UNCAS, MIONTONIMO. A NOTICE OF THE BIOORAFHIE8 OF THE LATE COI. WILLIAM L. ITONE, niBPABSD FOR TMI DEMOCRATIC KEyfEW — 1843. The Egyptians embalmed their dead in myrrh and spices, IfQt the blessed art of printing has given us a surer and less revolting method of preserving and transmitting to posterity, all that is truly valuable in the plaudits of virtue, worth, and honor. Books thus become a more perma- nent memorial than marble, and by their diffusion scatter those lessons among all mankind, which the age of mounds and hieroglyphics, stone and papyrus, had confined to the tablet of a shafl, or the dark recesses of a tomb or a pyramid. It is never to be forgotten, that m the development of this new phasis in the history of the human race, it was printing that first lit the latap of truth, and has driven on the experiment, till the boun- daries of letters have well nigh become co-extensive with the world. If we do not widely err, there is no part of the globe, where books of all de- scriptions have become so cheap and abundant as they are at this time in the United States, and, laying aside all other considerations, we may find a proof of the position stated in the fact, that our vernacular literature is no longer confined to the production of school books, the annals of law and divinity, the age of muddy pamphlets, or the motley pages of the newspa per. We have no design to follow up these suggestions by showing how far the study of the natural sciences, the discussion of political economy, or the advances of belles-lettres, have operated to produce this result ; far less to identify those causes, in the progress of western arts and commerce, which have concurred to bring down the price of books, and scatter the blessings of an untrammelled press, among all classes. It is sufficient for our purpose to say that even the lives of our distinguished native chieilains have come in for a share of modern notice, and, we feel proud to add, of a notice which, so far as it reaches, is worthy of the subject. And should our contributions on this head, for the last few years, be equally well fol- lowed up fo? a few years to come, even the despohding strains of one of 146 INDIAN RULERS. 147 their own impersonated heroes can no longer be repeated with perfect truth : " They sink, they pass, they fly, they go, Like 8 vapor at morning's dawn. Or a flash of hght, whose sudden glow - Is seen, admired, and gone. " They died ; but if a brave man bleeds, And fills the dreamless grave. Shall none repeat his name, his deeds, Nor tell that he was brave ?" To no one in our literary annals is the public so much indebted for res^ cuing from oblivion the traits and character of the four celebrated chiefs whose names stand at the head of this article, as to the able author of these biographies, William L. Stone. Gifted with a keen perception of the ques- tions of right and wrong, which turn upon the planting of the colonies among barbarians, who more than idled away their days upon a soil which they did not cultivate — with a deep sympathy in their fate and for- tunes, on the one hand, and the paramount claims of letters and Christian- ity on the other, he has set himself to the task of rendering justice to whom justice belongs, with the ardor of a philanthropist, and the research of a historian. He appears to have planned a series of biographies which, if completed, will give a connected view of the leading tribes who occupied New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts, with a range in the examination of contemporary men and collateral topics, which em- braces a wide circle. And he has filled up the outlines of his plan, thus far, in a manner which leaves but little to glean in the path which he has trod. If the extension of this circle, and the large amount of contempo- raneous matter brought in, has, in the minds of some, abstracted too large a share of attention, and left the biographies with less unity and compact- ness than they would otherwise have assumed, this is exclusively the fault of their plan, so far as it is acknowledged, and not of the execution. And for this course of extension there is a plea to be found m the nature of the subject, in the treatment of which, scantiness of material was often sought to be supplied by the introduction of collateral and sometimes extraneous matter. We propose briefly to notice the series of these biographies in their order of publication. In his first work on Brant, he has presented, in liv- ing colors, the great Mohawk of 1776, who rose up to crush that confea< eracy which Washington and his compeers had pledged their lives to maintain. Brant was a man of power and capacities, mental and physical beyond his tribe ; and was so situated, in the actual contest, as to throw a greater weight into the scale against us, than any other, or all of the hos- tile chiefs of the Red Race put together. If he could not, like Ariel, call gl48 INDIAN RULERS. up the "spirits of the vasty deep," he could, at his bidding^ summm together the no less malignant spirits of the woods, who feH upon our sleeping hamlets with the fury of demons. And whether at ^ iinson Hall or Niagara, at Cherry Valley or Schoharie, on the waters of ih Oriskany or the Chemung, he was the ruling and informing spirit of the contest. Such was the power he wielded as commander of a most effective body of light troops (for such are all Indian warriors), who were supported by large and well appointed armies, that, like the electric flashes of the boding storm, he preceded the heavier outbreak by sounding aloud the wild notes of terror and dismay. It was in this manner that his name became a talisman on the frontiers, to conjure up deeds of evil, and in this way also, doubtless, it became loaded with reproaches, some of which, as the author has denoted, were due to other actors in the contest. It is difficult, however, to disturb the judgments of a preceding age, on the character of individuals who have long passed off the stage of action, whether those judgments be favorable or unfavorable ; and it is, in fact, impossible to re- verse them. It is only necessary to glace backward a short way, on the track of biography, to perceive that posterity never revises the opinions once put on individual character, heroic or literary. It tries to forget all it can, and every body it can, and never remembers a long time any name which it is possible to forget It is willing, we should infer, to concede something to the great men among barbarian nations, whose names have often burst upon civilized society with the fearful attractions of the meteor, or the comet, producing admiration in the beholders, without stopping to inquire the true cause. Such were the Tamerlahes, and the Tippoo Saibs of the eastern world, of a prior age, as well as the Mehemet Alis and Abdel Kaders of the present. And such were, also, with reduced means of action, numbers of the American aboriginal chiefs, who, between the days of Manco Capac and Micanopy have figured in the history of the western world. Most of these men owe their celebrity to the mere fact of their having dazzled or astounded, or like Brant himself, excited the terror of those who opposed them. In the case of the latter, a change of opin- ion in those particular traits which affect his humanity, is less readily made, from the fact, yet generally remembered, that he had received a Christian education ; that he was, while a mere boy, received into the best society, acquired the English language, and had been instructed, first at a New England academy, and afterwards at one of its most practically efficient colleges. Posterity holds the Mohawk chief responsible to have carried the precepts thus obtained into the forest, and to have diffused their blessings among those who had perhaps his bravery, without his talents or his knowledge. Those who fought against him were ill qualified, we confess, to be his judges. He had not only espoused the wrong cause, wrong because it was adverse to the progress of national freedom and those very principles his people contended for \ but he battled for it with a INDIAN RULERS. 149 master's hand, and made the force of his energy felt, as the author has more fully indicated than was before known, from the banks of the Mo- hawk and the Niagara, to the Ohio, the Miami, and the Wabash. Yet, if there was error in the extent to which he failed to carry the precepts of civ- ilization and Christianity, it was meet it should be pointed out, although it will also be admitted, the public have a right to look for the strongest of these proofs of a kind and benevolent feeling towards his open enemies, out of the range of his domestic circle. His family had carried the incipient principles of civilization, which he gave them, too high — they had exhib- ited to the next age, a too prominent example of cultivation and refinement in every sense — not to feel deeply the obloquy cast upon his name, by the poetic spirit of the times ; and not to wish tha* one who had, in verity, so many high and noble qualities, both ' th^ ncil and the field, sh '^"''^. ilso be without a spot on his humanity. We ... .m the feeling as ho >- ible to all who have the blood of the chieftain in their veins as it is praise- worthy in his biographer. We cannot, however, consent to forget, that historical truth is very severe in its requisitions, and is not to be put off, by friend or foe, with hearsay testimony, or plausible surmises. Brant cannot, like Xicotencal, be accused of having joined the invaders of his country, who were recklessly resolved upon its subjugation ; but he overlooked the fact, that both the invader and the invaded in the long and bloody border warfare of the revolution, were, in all that constitutes charac* ter, the same people. They were of the same blood and lineage, spoke the same language, had the same laws and customs, and the same litera- ture and religion, and he failed to see that the only real point of difference between them was, who should wield the sceptre. Whichever party gained the day in such a contest, letters and Christianity must triumph, and as the inevitable result, barbarism must decline, and the power of the Indian nation fall. In Brant, barbarism and civilization evinced a strong and singular con- test. He was at one moment a savage, and at another a civilian, at one moment cruel, and at another humane ; and he exhibited, throughout all the heroic period of his career, a constant vacillation and struggle between good and bad, noble and ignoble feelings, and, as one or the other got the mastery, he was an angel of mercy, or a demon of destruction. In this re- spect, his character does not essentially vary from that which has been found to mark the other leading red men who, from Philip to Osceola, have appeared on the stage of action. Like them, his reasoning faculties were far less developed than his physical perceptions. And to attempt to follow or find anything like a fixed principle of humanity, basing itself on the higher obligations that sway the human breast, would, we fear, be- come a search afler that which had no existence in his mind ; or if the germ was there, it was too feeble tc become predominant. We do not think it necessary, in commenting on his life, to enter into any nice ,^50 INDIAN RULERS. train of reasoning or motives to account for this characteristic, or to recon cile cruelties of the most shocking kind, when contrasted with traiti of mildness and urbanity. They were diflerent moods of the man, and in running back over the eventful years of his life, it becomes clear, that civilization had never so completely gained the mastery over hio nind and heart, as not to desert him, without notice, the moment he heard the sound of the war-whoop. The fact that he could use the pen, supplied no in- superable motive against his wielding the war club. His tomahawk and his Testament lay on the same shelf. The worst trait in his character is revealed in his tardiness to execute acts of pwposed mercy. T. .re was too often some impediment, which served as an excuse, as when he had a ploughed field to cross to save Wells and his family, or a lame heel, or gave up the design altogether, as in the case of Wisner, whom he con- strued it into an act of mercy to tomahawk. That he was, however, a man of an extraordinary firmness, courage and decision of character, is without doubt. But his fate and fortunes have not been such as to give much encouragement to chiefs of the native race in lending their influence to European, or Anglo-European powers, who may be engaged in hostilities against each other on this continent. Pontiac had realized this before him, and Tecumtha realized it after him. Neither attained the object he sought. One of these chiefs was a^isassi* nated, the other fell in battle, and Brant himself only survived the defeat of his cause, to fret out his latter days in vain attempts to obtain justice from the power which he had most loyally served, and greatly benefited. Had he been knighted at the close of the contest, instead of ing shuffled from one great man to another, at home and abroad, it wou have been an instance of a noble exercise of that power. But George III. seemed to have been fated, at all points, neither to do justice to his friends nor his enemies. Such was Brant, or Thayendanegea, symbollically, the Band of his tribe,* to whose lot it has fallen to act a more distinguished part in the Colonies, as a consummate warrior, than any other aboriginal chieftain who has arisen. And his memory was well worthy of the elaborate work in which his biographer has presented him, in the most favourable points of view, amidst a comprehensive history of the border wars of the revolu- tion, without, however, concealing atrocities of which he was, perhaps sometimes unvyillingly, the agent. - A word, and but a word, will be added, as to some points connected with this chief's character, which are not in coincidence with the generally received opinion, or are now first introduced by way of palliation, or vin- dication. We confess, that so far as the presence or absence of the Great Mohawk in the massacre of Wyoming, is concerned, the statements are * The name is usually translated, two-sticks tied, or united. 1 INDIAN RULERS. 151 either inconclusive, or less satisfactory than could be wished. There was quite too much feeling sometimes evinced by his family, and particularly his son John, to permit us to revive the new version of the statement with- out some grains of allotvance. An investigation is instituted by Col. Stone as to the immediate ancestry of Brant, and much Importance is attached to the inquiry, whether he was descended from a line of hereditary chiefs. We think the testimony adverse to such a supposition, and it affords no unequivocal proof of talents, that notwithstanding such an adventitious circumstance, certainly without being of the line of ruling chiefs, he ele- vated himself to be, not only the head chief and leader of his tribe, but of the Six Nations. Courtesy and popular will attach the title of chief or sachem to men of talents, courage or eloquence among our tribes gene- rally ; and while mere descent would devolve it upon a chiefs son, what- ever might be his character, yet this fact alone would be of little import, and give him little influence, without abilities : whereas abilities alone are found to raise men of note to the chieftainship, among all the North American tribes, whose customs and character are known. It has constituted no part of our object, in these general outlines, to ex- amine minor points of the biography or history, upon which the information or the conclusions are not so satisfactory as could be wished, or which may, indeed, be at variance with our opinions. One fact, however, connected with this name, it is not deemed proper to pass sub silentio. Brant is made to take a part in the Poniiac wtir, a contest arising on the fall of the French power in Canada in 1759, and which closed in 1763. Brant was at its close but twenty-one years of age, and had not, it is probable, finally returned from his New England tutors. At any rate, there is no reason to su{.^.ose, that, at that early period of his life and his influence, he could have had any participation in the events of that war. In the life of Red Jacket, or Sagdyewata, we have a different order of In- dian intellect brought to view. He was an orator and a diplomatist, and was at no period of his life noted for his skill as a warrior. Nay, there are indubitable proofs that his personal courage could not always be " screwed up to the sticking point." But in native intellect, he was even superior to Brant. He was, indeed, the Brant of the council, and often came down upon his opponents with bursts of eloquence, trains of argument, or rhap- sodies of thought, which were irresistible. And of him, it may be sym- bolically said, that his tongue was his tomahawk, and the gvandiloquent vocabulary of the Seneca language, his war-club. Nor has any native chieflain wielded the weapon to more purpose, or with a longer continued effect than the great Seneca orator. The specimens of his eloquence which have appeared in our newspapers for forty years or more, are still fresh in the memory, and it was due and meet that these should be col- lected and preserved in a permanent shape, together with such particulars of his life and career as could be obtained. This task has been performed 162 IMDIAn RVLBBa m by Col. Stone, in a manner which leaves nothing more to be attempted on the subject. Much zeal and industry have been evinced in eliciting facts from every quarter where it was probablei a different kind of wood, which I named. When it was finished, and tightly wound with skins, the entire population of the encampment assembled around it and I went in, taking only a small drum. I inimediately knelt down, and holding my head near the ground, in a position as near as may be prostrate, began beating my drum, and reciting my songs or incantations. The lodge commenced shaking violently, by supernatural means. I knew this, by the com- pressed current otair above, and the noise of motion. This being regard- ed by me, and by all without, as a proof of the presence of the spirits I consulted, I ceased beating and singing, and lay still, waiting for questions, in thr; position I had at first assumed. The first question put to me, was in relation to the game, and where it was io be found. The response was given by the orbicular spirit, who had appeared to me. He said, " How short-sighted you are ? If you will go in a ivcst direction, you will find game in abundance." Next day the camp was broken up, and they all moved westward, the hunters, as usual, going far ahead. They had not proceeded fiir beyond the bounds of their former hunting circle, when they came upon tracks of moose, and that day, they killed a female and two young moose, nearly full-grown. They pitched their encampment anew, and had abundance of animal food in this new positior. My reputation was established by this success, and I was after- THE PROPHETESS OF CHEGOIMEOON. 173 waros noted in the tribe, in the art of a medicine woman, and sung the songs which 1 have given to you. About four years after, I was married to Mush Kow Egeezhick, or the Strong Sky, who was a very active and successful hunter, and kept his lodge well supplied with food ; and we lived happy. After I had had two children, a girl and a boy, we went out, as is the custom of the Indians in the spring, to visit the white settlements. One night, while we were encamped at the head of the portage at Pauwating (the I alls of St. Mary's), angry words passed between my husband and a half Frenchman named Gaultier, who, with his two cousins, in the course of the dispute, drew their knives and a tomahawk, and stabbed and cut him in four or five places, in his body, head and thighs. This happened the first year that the Americans came to that place (1H22). He had gone out at a late hour in the evening, to visit the tent of Gaultier. Having been urged by one of the trader's men to take liquor that evening, and it being already late, I desired him not to go, but to defer his visit till next day ; and after he had left the lodge, I felt a sudden presentiment of evil, and I went after him, and re newed my otf'orts in vain. He told me to return, and as I had two chil dren in the lodge, th« youngest of whom, a boy, was still in his cradle, and then ill, I sat up v»^<^ him late, and waited and waited, till a late hour, and then fell asleep from **xhaustion. I slept very sound. The first I knew, was a violent tf^yakitt^ from a girl, a niece of Gaultier's, who told me my husband and Gaultier were all the time quarrelling. I arose, and went up the stream to Gaultier's camp fire. It was nearly out, and I tried in vain to make it bMw. I looked into his tent, but all was dark and not a soul there. Th;rass, and putting my hand on his face, found him dea'J In the morning the Indian agent came with soldiers from the fort, to see what had happened, but the murderer and all his bloody gang of relatives had fled. The agent gave orders to have the body buried in the old Indian burial ground, below the Falls. My aged mother was encamped about a mile off, at this time. I took my two children in the morning, and fled to her lodge. She had just heard of the murder, and was crying as I entered. I reminded her that it was an act of providence, to which we must submit. She said it was for me and my poor helpless children that she was crying — that I was Ifft as she ha found xJu' boys still asleep. He awoke them and told them to cook his ven'501:, Suf. he carefully concealed from them his adventure. At the xplratio'.) of the moon he again, alone, visited his wrestling ground, and to 1\' I'lrprise, found the plain filled with ♦he spikes and blades of new gro\i u corn. In the place where he had thrown the pieces of cob, he found pumpkin vines growing in great luxuriance. He con- cealed this discovery also, carefully from the young lads, and after his return busied himself as usual, in watching the movements of his enemies along the coasts of the island. This he continued, till summer drew near its close. He then directed his canoe to the coast of that part of the island where he had wrestled with the Red Plume, drew up his canoe, bid the lads stay by it, and again visited his wrestling ground. He found the corn in full ear, and pumpkins of an immense size. He plucked ears of corn, and gathered some of the pumpkins, when a voice again addressed him from the cornfield. " Masswaweinini, you have conquered me. Had you not done so, your existence would have been forfeited. Victory has crowned your strength, and from henceforlh you shall never be in want of my body. It will be nourishment for the hu- nan race." Thus his ancestors received tb;' i ift ct corn. Masswaweinini now returned to his canoe, and informed thc^ young men of his discovery, and showed them specimens. They were aston- ished and delighted with the novelty. There were, in those days, many wonderful things done on these islands. One night, while Masswaweinini was lying down, ho heard voices speaking, but he still kept his head covered, as if he had not board them. One voice said, " This is Masswaweinini, and we munt get his heart." " In what way can we gel it .'" said another voice. '* You TALES OF A WIGWART. 177 must put your hand in his mouth," replied the first voice, " and draw it out that way." Masswaweinini still kept quiet, and did not stir. He soon felt the hand of a person thrust in his mouth. When sufficiently far in, he bit off the fingers, and thus escaped the danger. The voices then retired, and he was no further molested. On examining the fingers in the morning, what was his surprise to find them long wampum beads, which arie held in such high estimation by all the Indian tribes. He had slf^pt, as was his custom, in the thick woods. On going out to the open shore, at a very early hour, he saw a canoe at a small distance, tempora- rily drawn up on the beach ; on coming closer, he found a man in the bows and another in the stern, with their arms and hands extended in a fixed position. One of them had lost its fingers : it was evidently the man who had attempted to thrust his arm down his throat. They were two Pukwudjininees, or fairies. But on looking closer, they were found to be transformed into statues of stone. He took these stone images on shore, and set them up in the woods. Their canoe was one of the most beautiful structures which it is possi- ble to imagine, four fathoms in length, and filled with bags of treasures of every description and of the most exquisite workmanship. These bags were of different weight, according to their contents. He busied himself in quickly carrying them into the woods, together with the canoe, which he concealed in a cave. One of the fairy images then spoke to him and said : " In this manner, the Ottowa canoes will hereafter be loaded, when they pass along this coast, although your nation are driven away by their cruel enemies the Iroquois." The day now began to dawn fully, when he returned to his two young companions, who were still asleep. He awoke them, and exultingly bid them cook, for he had brought abundance of meat and fish, and other viands, the gifts of the fairies. After this display of good fortune, he bethought him of his aged father and mother, who were in exile at the Ottowa lake. To wish, and to accomplish his wish, were but the work of an instant with Mass- waweinini. One night as he lay awake, reflecting on their condition, far away from their native fields, and in exile, ho rosolvrd to visit them, and bring them back to behold and to participnto in hia abundance. To a common traveller, it would bo a journei'^ jf tweiily or thirty d»y»| but Masswavvoinini was at their lodge befoio dn|llglil. llu tuuial them asleep, and took them up softly ir his arms and flew away with them through the air, and brought thein to l\iN camp on the Manatolines, or Spirit's Islands. When they awoke, their astonishment was at its high- est pitch ; and was only equalled by their delight in finding themselves in thoir son's lodge, in their native country, and surrounded with abuu- rE fj dance. 12 i<. * 178 TALES OF A WIOWAM. Masswaweinini went and built them a lodge, near the corn and wreat- ling plain. He then plucked some ears of the corn, and taking some of the pumpkins, brought them to his father and mother. He then told them how he had obtained the precious gift, by wrestling with a spirit in red plumes, and that there was a great abundance of it in his fields. He also told them of the precious canoe of the fairies, loaded with sacks of the most costly and valuable articles. But one thing seemed necessary to complete the happiness of his father, which he observed by seeing him repeatedly at night looking into his smoking pouch. He compre- hended his meaning in a moment. " It is tobacco, my father, that yoq want. You shall also have this comfort in two days." " But where," replied the old man, " can you get it — away from all supplies, and sur< rounded by your enemies .?" " My enemies," he answered, " shall sup- ply it — I will go over to the Nadowas of the Bear totem, living at Penetanguishine , " The old man endeavored to dissuade him from the journey, knowing their blood-thirsty character, but in vain. Masswaweinini determined immediately to go. It was now winter weather, the lake was frozen over, but he set out on the ice, and although it is forty leagues, he reach- ed Penetanguishine the same evening. The Nadowas discerned him coming — they were amazed at the swiflness of his motions, and thinking him somewhat supernatural, feared him, and invited him to rest in their lodges,, but he thanked them, saying that he preferred making a fire near the shore. In the evening they visited him, and were anxious to know the object of his journey, at so inclement a season. He said it was merely to get some tobacco for his father. They immediately made a contribution of the article and gave it to him. During the night they however laid a plot to kill him. Some of the old men rushed into his lodge, their leader crying out to him, " You are a dead man." " No, I am not," said Masswaweinini, " but you are," accompanying his words with a blow of his tomahawk, which laid the Nadowa dead at his feet. Another and another came, to supply the place of their fallen comrade, but he despatched them in like manner, as quickly as they came, until he had killed six. He then took all the tobacco from their smoking pouches. By this time, the day began to dawn, when he set out for his father's lodge, which he reached with incredible speed, and before twilight, spread out his trophies before the old man. When spring returned, his cornfield grew up, without planting, or any care on his part, and thus the maize was introduced among his people and their descendants, who have ever been noted, and are at this day, for their fine crops of thi,^ grain, and their industry in its cultiva- tion. It is from their custom of trading in this article, thai, this tribe are called Otto was. CORN-PLANTING, AND ITS INCIDENTS. The zea, mais, originally furnished the principal article of subsistence among all the tribes of this race, north and south. It laid at the founda- tion of the Mexican and Peruvian types of civilization, as well as the in- cipient gleamings of it, among the more warlike tribes of the Iroquois, Natchez, Lenapees, and others, of northern latitudes. They esteem it so important and divine a grain, that their story-tellers invented various tales, in which this idea is symbolized under the form of a special gift from the Great Spirit. The Odjibwa-Algonquins, who call it Mon-da-min, that is, the Spirit's grain or berry, have a pretty story of this kind, in which the stalk in full tassel, is represented as descending from the sky, under the guise of a handsome youth, in answer to the prayers of a young man at his fast of virility, or coming to manhood. It is well known that corn-planting, and corn-gathering, at least among all the still uncolonized tribes, are left entirely to the females and children, and a few superannuated old men. It is not generally known, perhaps, that this labour is not compulsory, and that it is assumed by the females as a just equivalent, in their view, for the onerous and continuous labour of the other sex, in providing meats, and skins for clothing, by the chase, and in defending their villages against their enemies, and keeping intruders off their territories. A good Indian housewife deems this a part of her prerogative, and prides herself to have a store of corn to exercise her hos- pitality, or duly honour her husband's hospitality, in the entertainment of the lodge guests. The area of ground planted is not. comparitively, large. This matter is essentially regulated by the number of the family, and other circum- stances. Spring is a leisure season with tliem, and by its genial and re- viving influence, invites to labour. An Indian female has no cows to milk, no flax to spin, no yarn to reel. Even those labours, which, at other seasons fall to her share, are now intermitted. She has apukwas to gather to make mats. Sugar-making has ended. She has no skins to dress, for the hunt has ended, the animals being out of season. It is at this time that the pelt grows bad, the hair becomes loose and falls off, and nature itself teaches the hunter, that the species must have repose, and be allowed a :istle time to replenish. Under these circumstances the mistress 179 ft 1 '■1 B. s ■tl 1 fV} IK '.. \ ■'. 1 m l''^'i m ' 'W m ^nBvJ .2J i'rVY 180 CORN, PLANTING, AND ITS INCIDENTS. of the lodge tnd her train, sally out of the lodge into the corn-field, and with the light pemidge-ag akwut, or small hoe, open up the soft ground and deposit their treasured mondamin. The Indian is emphatically a superstitious being, believing in all sorts of magical, and secret, and wonderful influences. Woman, herself, comes in for no small share of these supposed influences. 1 shrewdly suspect that one half of the credit we have been in the habit of giving the war- rior, on the score of virtue, in his treatment of captives, is due alone to his superstitions. He is afraid, at all times, to spoil his luck, cross his fate, and do some untoward act, by which he might, perchance, fall under a bad spiritual influence. To the w6wnn, or wife — the equd, or woman, to the guh or mother, — to the equiizas, or girl, and to the danis, or daughter, and shema, or sister, he looks, as wielding, in their several capacities, whether kindred or not, these mystic influences over his luck. In consequence of this, the female never walks in the path before him. It is an unpropitious sign. If she cross his track, when he is about to set out on a hunting, or war ex- cursion, his luck is gone. If she is ill, from natural causes, she cannot even stay in the same wigwam. She cannot use a cup or a bowl without rendering it, in his view, unclean. A singular proof of this belief, in both sexes, of the mysterious influence of the slops of a woman on the vegetable and insect creation, is fouri'l in an ancient custom, which was related to me, respecting corn-planting. It was the practice of the hunter's wife, when the field of corn had been p'anted, to choose the first dark or overclouded evening, to perform a secret circuit, sans habil'un'.nt, around ihe field. For this purpose she siipt out of the lodge in th« evening, unoliserved, to some obscure nook, where she completely disrobed. Then taking her matchecota, or princi- pal garment in one hand, she dragged it around the field. This wa& t- /lught to ensure a prolific crop, and to prevent the assaults of insects and v/r>i Tis upon the grain. It was supposed they could not creep over the ■ imed line. But if corn-planting be done in a lively and satisfied, and not a slavish spirit, corn- gathering and husking is a season of decided thankfulness and inerriment. At these gatherings, the chiefs and old men are mere specta- tors, although they are pleased spectators, the young only sharing in the sport. Who has not seen, the sedate ogema in such a vicinage, smoking a dignified pipe with senatorial ease. On the other hand, turning to the group of nature's red daughters and their young cohorts, it may be safe- ly aflirnied that laughter and garrulity constitute no part of the character- istics of civilization. Whatever else custom has bound fast, in the do- mestic female circle of forest life, the tongue is left loose. Nor does it re- quire, our observation leads us to think, one tenth part of the wit or drollery of ancient Athens, to set their risible faculties in motion. Hi If one of ilie young female buskers finds a red ear of corn, it is typicai of a brave admirer, and is regarded as a fitting pres«nt to some young warrior. But if the ear be crooked, and tapering to a point, no matter what colour, the whole circle is set in a roar, and wa ge min is the word shouted aloud. It is the symbol of a thief in the cornfield. It is considered as the image of an old man stooping as he enters the lot. Had the chisel of Praxiiiles been employed to produce this image, it could not more vi- vidly bring to the minds of the merry group, the idea of a pilferer of their favourite monddmin. Nor is there any doubt on these occasions, that the occurrence truly reveals the fact that the cornfield has actually been thus depredated on. The term wagemin, which unfolds all these ideas, and revr by a talisman, all this information, is derived in part, from the tn-inoral term Waweau, that which is bent or crooked. The termination in g, is the animate plural, and denotes not only that there is more than one object, but that the subject is noble or invested with the importance of animated beings. The last member of the compound, min, is a shortened sound of the generic meen, a grain, or berry. To make these coalesce, agreea- bly to the native laws of euphony, the short vowel i, is thrown in, between the verbal root and substantive, as a connective. The literal meaning of the term is, a mass, or crooked ear of grain ; but the ear of corn so called, is a conventional type of a little old man pilfering ears of corn in a corn- field. It is in this manner, that a single word or term, in these curious languages, becomes the fruitful parent of many ideas. And we can thus perceive why it is that the word wagemin is alone competent to excite merriment in the husking circle. This term is taken as the basis of the cereal chorus or corn song, as sung by the northern Algonquin tribes. It is coupled with the phrase Paimosaid, — a permutative form of the Indian substantive made from the verb, pim-o-sa, to walk. Its literal meaning is, he who walks, or the walker ; but the ideas conveyed by it, are, he who walks at night to pilfer corn. It offers, therefore, a kind of parallelism in expression, to the pre- ceding term. The chorus is entirely composed of these two terms, vari- ously repeated, and may be set down as follows : Wagemin, Wagemin, Paimosaid. Wagemin, Wagemin, Paimosaid. 181 r, I ■m '■'fi IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) - 1.0 l^i^ 1^ ^s^ lU lU 122 Silt ■— 1.1 \^ la i- 1.25 11.4 16 ^ 6" ► V] ^> n ^/. ^ >^'^ ♦V^ '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY USSO (716) B73-4S03 182 CORN PLANTING AND ITS INCIDENTS. When this chant has been sung, there is a pause, during which some one who is expert in these things, and has a turn for the comic or ironic, utters a short speech, in the manner of a recitative, in which a peculiar in* tonation is given, and generally interrogates the supposed pilferer, as if he were present to answer questions, or accusations. There can be no pre- tence, that this recitative part of the song is always the same, at different times and places, or even that the same person should not vary his phrase- ology. On the contrary, it is often an object to vary it. It is a perfect improvisation, and it may be supposed that the native composer is always actuated by a desire to please, as much as possible by novelty. The whole object indeed is, to keep up the existing merriment, and excite fun and laughter. The following may be taken as one of these recitative songs, written out, on the plan of preserving the train of thought, and some #^ose peculiar interjections in which. these languages so much abound.' The chorus alone, it is to be observed, is fixed in its words and metrt^, however trans- posed or repsated, and, unlike an English song, prece^ *h the stanza or narrative. , '• hi CORN SONG. Cereal chorus. WageminI wagemini Thief in the blade. Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid. j^- ReciUitive. See you not traces, while pulling the leaf, Plainly depicting the taker and thief? See you not signs by the ring and the spot, How the man crouched as he crept in the lot 9 Is it not plain by this mark on the stalk. That he was heavily bent in his walk? Old man be nimble ! the old should be good, But thou art a cowardly thief of the wood. - Cereal Chorus. Wagemin I wagemin I Thief in the blade, Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid. Recitative. Where, little taker of things not your own — Where is your rattle, your drum, and your bone? Surely a Walker so nimble of speed. Surely he must be a Meta* indeed. Ce R( * A Juggler. CORN PLANTING AND ITS INCIDENTS. See how he stoops, as he breaks oflfthe ear, Nushka I* he seems for a moment in fear ; Walker, be nimble— oh I walker be brief, Hooh If it is plain the old man is the thief. Cereal chorus. Wagemin I wagemin ! Thief in the blade. Blight of the cornfield Paimosaid. Wabuma !:|: corn-taker, why do you lag 1 None but the stars see you — fill up your bag } Why do you linger to gaze as you pull, Tell me, my little man, is it most full? A-tial^ see, a red spot on the leaf, Surely a warrior cannot be a thief! Ah, little night-thief, be deer your pursuit, And leave here no print of your dastardly foot 183 Recitative. TO HEALTH. BT THE UktS JOHN JOHNSTON, ItQ. Health i dearest of the heavenly powers, With thee to pass my evening hours. Ah I deign to hear my prayer ; For what can wealth or beauty give. If still in anguish doomed to live A slave to pain and care. Not sovereign power, nor charms of IotOi Nor social joys the heart can move, If thou refuse thy aid ; E'en friendship, sympathy divine 1 Does, in thy absence, faintly shine, Thou all-inspiring maid. Return then, to my longing soul. Which sighs to feel thy sweet control Transfused through every pore ; My muse, enraptured, then shall sing ~> Thee — gift of heaven's all bounteous king. And gratefully adore. Febma/ry 4, 1807. * A sharp exclamation quickly to behold something striking. t A derogatory exclamation. § A masculine exclamation, to express surprise t Behold thoo. 184 v-?V sloDs, if the family have gone supperless to rest, the father and elder sons rise early in the morning in search of something. If one has the luck to kill even a partridge or a squirrel, it is immediately carried to the lodge, cooked, and divided into as many parts as there are members of the family. On these occasions, the elder ones often make a merit ofrelinquishing their portions to the women and children. If nothing rewards the search, the whole day is spent by the father upon his snow- shoes, with his gun in his hands, and he returns at night, fatigued, to his couch of cedar branches and rush mats. But he does not return to com- plain, either of his want of success, or his fatigue. On the following day the same routine is observed, and days and weeks are often thus consumed without being rewarded with anything capable of sustaining life. Instances have been well authenticated, when this state of wretch- edness has been endured by the head of a family until he has become so weak as to fall in his path, and freeze to death. When all other means of sustaining life are gone, the skins he has collected to pay his credits, or purchase new supplies of clothing or ammunition, are eaten. They are prepared by removing the pelt, and roasting the skin until it acquires a certain degree of crispness. Under all |heir sufferings, the pipe of the hunter b his chief solace, and is a solace often resorted to. Smoking parties are frequently formed, when there is a scarcity of food not tend- ing, as might be supposed, to destroy social feeling and render the temper sour. On these occasions the entertainer sends a message to this eflfect : " Come and smoke with me. I have no food ; but we can pass away the evening very well without it." All acknowledge their lives to be in the hand of the great Spirit ; feel a conviction that all comes from him, and that although he allows them to suffer, he will again supply them. This tends to quiet their apprehensions ; they are fatal- ists, however, under long reverses, and submit patiently and silently to what they believe to be their destiny. When hunger and misery are past, they are soon forgotten, and their minds are too eagerly intent on the enjoyment of the present good, to feel any depression of spirits from the recollection of the past, or to hoard up anything to provide against want for the future. No people are more easy, or less clamorous under sufferings of the deepest dye, and none more happy, or more prone to evince their happiness, when prosperous in their a&irs. .. October 29th, 1826. m- PUGASAINGj OK. THE OAHE OF THE BOWL. This is the principal game of hazard among the northern tribes. It is played with thirteen pieces, hustled in a vessel called onagun, which is a kind of wooden bowl. They are represented, and named, as follows. •^. "in.. Tl. OOO •v. ■v: m JMC The pieces marked No. 1, in this cut, of which there are two, are called Ininewug, or men. They are made tapering, or wedge-shaped in thick- ness, so as to make it possible, in throwing them, that they may stand on their base. Number 2, is called Gitshee Kenabik, or the Great Serpent. It consists of two pieces, one of which is fin-tailed, or a water-serpent, the 188 PUOASAINO. 189 Other truncated, and is probably designed as terrestrial. They are formed wedge-shaped, so as to be capable of standing on their bases length-wise. Each has four dots. Number 3, is called Pugamdgun, or the war club. It has six marks on the handle, on the red side^ and four radiating from the orifice of the club end ; and four marks on the handle of the white side ; and six radiating marks from the orifice on the club-end, making ten on each side. Number 4 is called Keego, which is the generic name for a iSsh. The four circular pieces of brass, slightly concave, with a flat sur- face on the apex, are called Ozawdbiks. The three bird-shaped pieces, Sheshebwug, or ducks. All but the circular pieces are made out of a fine kind of bone. One side of the piece is white, of the natural colour of the bones, and polished, the other red. The brass pieces have the convex side bright, the concave black. They are all shaken together, and thrown out of the onagun, as dice. The term pugasaing denotes this act of throwing. It is the parti- cipial form of the verb. — The following rules govern the game : 1. When the pieces are turned on the red side, and one of the Inine- wugs stands upright on the bright side of one of the brass peces, it counts 158. 2. When all the pieces turn red side up, and the Gitshee Kenabik with the tail stands on the bright side of the brass piece, it counts 138. 3. When all turn up red, it counts 58 whether the brass pieces be bright or black side up. 4. When the Gitshee Kenabik and his associate, and the two Ininewugs turn up white side, and the other pieces red, it counts 58, irrespective of the concave or convex position of the brass pieces. 5. When all the pieces turn up white, it counts 38, whether the Ozawd- biks, be bright or black. 6. When the Gitshee Kenabik and his associate turn up red, and the other wAue, it counts 38, the> brass pieces immaterial. 7. When one of the Ininewugs stands up, it counts 50, without regard to the position- of all the rest 8. When either of the Gitshee Kenabiks stands upright, it counts 40, irrespective of the position of the others. 9. When all the pieces turn up white, excepting one, and the Ozawabiks dark, it counts 20. 10. When all turn up red, except one, and the brass pieces bright, it counts 15. 11. When the whole of the pieces turn up white, but one, with the Ozawabiks bright, it counts 10. 12. When a brass piece turns up dark, the two Gitshee Kenabiks and the two men red, and the remaining pieces white, it counts 8. 13 When the brass piece turns up bright, the two Gitsheci Kenabiks and one of the men red, and all the rest white, it is 6. 190 PUOASAINO. 14. When the Gitshee Kenabik in chief, and one of the men turn up red, the Ozaw&biks, bright, and all the others white, it is 4. 15. When both the Kenabiks, and both men, and the three ducks, turn up red, the brass piece black, and either the Keego, or a duck white, it is 5. 16. When all the pieces turn up red, but one of the Ininewugs, and the brass piece black, it counts 2. The limit of the game is stipulated. The parties throw up for the play. This game is very fascinating to some portions of the Indians. They stake at it their ornaments, weapons, clothing, canoes, horses, every thing in fact they possess ; and have been known, it is said, to set up their wives and children, and even to forfeit their own liberty. Of such desperate stakes, I have seen no exaaples, nor do I think the game itself in com* mon use. It is rather confined to certain persons, who hold the relative rank of gamblers in Indian society — men who are not noted as hunters or warriors, or steady providers for their families. Among these are per* sons who bear the term of lenadizze-wug, that is, wanderers about the country, braggadocios, or fops. It can hardly be classed with the popular games of amusement, by which skill and dexterity are acquired. I have generally found the chiefs and graver men of the tribes, who encouraged the young men to play ball, and are sure to be present at the customary sports, to witness, and sanction, and applaud ihem, speak lightly and dis* paragingly of this game of hazard. Yet, it cannot be denied, that some of the chiefs, distinguished in war and the chase, at the west, can be refei' red to, as lending their example to its fascinating power. An analysis of this game, to show its arithmetical principles and powers might be gone into ; but it is no part of the present design to take up such considerations here, far less to pursue the comparison and extension of cus- toms of this kind among the modern western tribes. It may be sufficient to say, from the foregoing rules, that there seems to be no unit in the throw, and that the count proceeds by decimals, for all numbers over 8. Doubtless these rules, are but a part of the whole series, known to ex- perienced players. They comprise, however, all that have been revealeu tome. " Gambling is not peculiar to our race. The Indian gambles with as fixed a face." Herodotus says of the ancient Thracians — that "the most honourable life, with them, is a life of war and plunder ; the most contemptible that of a husbandman. Their supreme delight is war and plunder." Who might not suppose, were the name withheld, that this had been said by some modern writer of the Pawnees, or the Camanches % REVERENCE AND AFFECTIOTT FOR PARENTS. TuER^ived a noted chief at Michilimackinac, in days past, called Oitshe Naygow, or the Great-Sand-Dune, a name, or rather nick-name, which he had, probably, derived from his birth and early residence at a spot of very imposing appearance, so called, on the southern shore of Lake Superior, which is east of the range of the Pictured Rocks. He was a Chippewa, a warrior and a counsellor, of that tribe, and had mingled freely in the stirring scenes of war and border foray, which marked the closing years of French domination in the Canadas. He lived to be very old, and became so feeble at last, that ho could not travel by land, when Spring came on and his people prepared to move their lodges, from their sugar-camp in the forest, to the open lake shore. They were then inland, on the waters of the Manistee river, a stream which enters the northern shores of Lake Michigan. It was his last win- ter on earth; his heart was gladdened by once more feeling the ge- nial rays of Spring, and he desired to go with them, to behold, for the last time, the expanded lake and inhale its pure breezes. He must needs be conveyed by hand. This act of piety was performed by his daughter, then a young woman. She carried him on her back from their camp to the lake shore, where they erected their lodge and passed their spring, and where he eventually died and was buried. This relation I had from her own lips, at the agency of Michili- mackinac, in 1833. I asked her how she had carried him. She re- plied, with the Indian apekun, or head-strap. When tired she rested, and again pursued her way, on-wa-be-win by on-wa-be-win, or rest by rest, in the manner practised in carrying heavy packages over the portages. Her name was Nadowdkwa, or the female Iroquois. She was then, perhaps, about fiily-five years of age, and the wife of a chief called Saganosh, whose home and jurisdiction were in the group of the St. Martin's Islands, north of Michilimackinac. The incident was not voluntarily told, but came out, incidentally, in some inquiries I was making respecting historical events, in the vicinity. One such incident goes far to vindicate the affections of this people, and should teach us, that they are of the same general lineage with ourselves, and only require letters and Christianity, to exalt them in the scale of being. The first words of men, says Harris in his Hermes, like their first ideas, had an immediate reference to sensible objects ; in after days, when they began to discern with their intellect, they took those words which they found already made, and transferred .hem by metaphor, to intellectual con- ceptions. 191 .m / ANDAIG WEOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. Many persons among the Indian race, have attracted notice from their exploits on the war-path. Andaig Weos was not among the num* ber of these, or if ho had mingled in such events, his deeds of daring are now lost amid the remembrance of better qualities. He was a chief of the once prominent and reigning band of Odjibwa Algonquins, who are called Chippewas, located at Chcgoimgon, on Lake Superior, where his name is cherished in local tradition, for the noble and disinterested deeds which he performed in former days. He lived in the latter part of the 18th century. It was perhaps forty years ago — said my informant, it was while the late Mr. Nolin, of Sault Ste. Maries wa6 a trader in the Chippewa country, between lake Superior and the Mississippi, that he wintered one year low down on the Chippewa river. On his way down this stream, and while he was still on one of its sources, cold weather set in suddenly, the ice formed, and he was unable to get on with his goods. He consequently put them en cache, according to the custom of the country, and proceeded on foot, with his men to the lower part of the river, to the spot at which he had determined to winter. Here he felled trees, and built his house, and having made all things ready, he set out with his men on his return to his cache, in order to bring down his goods. On the way he fell in with an Indian hunter and his wife, who followed him to the place where he had secreted his goods. On reaching this, he filled a bottle with spirits and gave a glass to each of his men, took one himself, and then filling the glass presented it to the Indian. This was done after the camp had been made for the night. It so happened that the Indian was taken suddenly ill that night, and before day light died. Nolin and his men buried him, and then proceeded back to his wintering house below, each man carrying a pack of goods ; and the widow rejoined her friends. Afber the Indians had taken their credits, and dispersed to their sovcial vnntering grounds, it was rumoured amongst them, that the trader hid 192 ANDAIO WeOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. 193 adminiBtered poison to the Indian who ited so suddenly after taking the gfass of spirits. And this opinion gained ground, although the widow wo* man repeatedly told the Indians, that the liquor given to her deceased husband was from the same bottle and glass, that all the French people had drank from. But it was of no avail ; the rumour grew, an^ Mr. Nolin began to be apprehensive, as he had already learnt that the Indians meant to kill him. To confirm this suspicion a party of forty men, soon after, entered his house, all armed, painted black, and with war dresses on. They were all presented with a piece of tobacco, as was customary, when each of them threw it into the fire. No alternative now appeared to remain to avert the blow, which he was convinced must soon follow. Almost at the same instant, his men intimated that another party, of six men more, were arriving. It proved to be the chief Andaig Weos, from near Lac du Flambeau, n search of a trader, for a supply of tobacco and ammunition. On entering, the chief eyed the warriors, and asked Mr. N. whether he had given them tobacco. He replied that he had, and that they had all, to a man, thrown it in the fire, and, he added, that they intended to kill him. The chief asked for some tobacco, which he threw down before the warriors, telling them to smoke it, adding in an authoritive voice, that when Indians visited traders, it was with an intention of getting tobacco from them to smoke and and not to throw into the fire ; and that, for his part, he had been a long time without smoking, and was very happy to find a trader to supply him with that article. This present from him, with the rebuke, was received with silent acquiescence, — no one venturing a reply. The chief next demanded liquor of the trader, saying, " that he in- tended to make them drink." The politic Frenchman remonstrated, saying, " that if this was done, he should surely he killed." " Fear not. Frenchman," replied the chief, boldly. " These are not men who want to kill you : they are children. I, and my warriors will guard you." On these assurances, a keg of liquor was given, but with the greatest reluc- tance. The chief immediately presented it to the war-party, but cautioned them to drink it at a distance, and not to come nigh the trader during the night. They obeyed him. They took it a short distance and drank it, and kept up a dreadful yelling* all night, but did not molest the house. The next morning Andaig Weos demanded tobacco of the still uneasy narehand voyageur, and ordered one of his young men to distribute it to the Indians in the war-dress. He then rose and addressed them in an energetic and authoritative speech, telling them to march off, without tasting food; that they were warriors, and needed not any thing of the kind ; and if they did, they were hunters, — ^they had guns, and might hunt, and kill and eat. " You get nothing more here," he added. " This trader has come here to supply your wantB, and you seek to kill him — a poor re- ward for the trouble and the anxiety he has undergone! This is no waj' 13 194 ANDAIO ITEOS, Oil CROWS->FI.ESH. of requiting white people." TJiey all, to a man started, and went off, and gave the trader no farther molestation while he remained in the country. On another occasion Andaig Wcos was placed in a situation which aflbrded a very different species of testimony to his principles and integrity. A French trader had entered lake Superior so late in the season, that with eVery effort, he could get no farther than Pointe La Petite Filk, be- fore the ice arrested his progress. Here he was obliged to bi.< Id his winter- ing house, but he soon ran short of provisions, and was obliged to visit La Pointe, with his men, in order tc obtain fish — leaving his house and store- room locked, with his goods, ammunition, and liquors, and resolving to return immediately. But the weather came on so bad, that there was n(> possibility of his immediate return, and the winter proved so unfavourabhv that he was obliged to spend two months at that post. During this time, the chief Andaig Weos, with fifteen of his men, camfk out from the interior, to the shores of the lake, for the purpose of trading , each carrying a pack of beaver, or other furs. On arriving at the poin*. La Petite Fille, they found the trader's house locked and no one there. The chief said to h's followers. — It is customary for traders to invif* In- dians into their house, and to receive them politely ; but as there is no one to receive us, we must act according to circumstances. He then ordered the door to be opened, with as little injury as possible, walked in, with his party, and caused a good fire to be built in th^j chimney. On opening the store-door he found they could be supplied with all they wanted. He told his party, on no account to touch, or take away any thing, but shut up the door, and said, " that he would, on the morrow, act the trader's part." They spent the night in the house. Early the next morning, he arose and addressed them, telling them, that he would now commence trading with them. This he accordingly did, and when all was finished, he care- fully packed the furs, and piled the packs, and covered them with an oil- cloth. He then again addressed them, saying that it was customary for a trader to give tobacco and a keg of spirits, when Indians had traded handsomely. He, therefore, thought himself authorized to observe this rule, and accordingly gave a keg of spirits and some tobacco. " The spirits," he said, " must not be drank here. We must take it to our hunting camp," and gave orders for returning immediately. He then caused the doors to be shut, in the best manner possible, and the outer door to be barricaded with logs, and departed. When the trader returned, and found his house had been broken open, he began to bewail his fate, being sure he had been robbed ; but on enter- ing his storr room and beholding the furs, his fears were turned to joy. On examinmg his inventory, and comparing it with the amount of his furs, he declared, that had he been present, he could not have traded to better advantage, nor have made such a profit on his goods. ANDAIG WEOS, OR CROWS-FLESH. 195 act These traits are not solitary and accidental. It happened at another .ime, that a Mr. Lamotte, who had wintered in the Folle-avoine country, unfortunately had a quarrel with the Indians, air the close of the season, just when he was about to embark on his return with his furs. In the heat of their passion the Indians broke all his canoes in pieces, and con- fined him a prisoner, by ordering him to encamp on an island in the St. Croix river. In this situation he remained, closely watched by the Indians, till all the other traders had departed and gone out of the country to renew their supplies, when the chief Andaig Weos arrived. He comprehended the case in an instant, and having found that the matter of offence was one of no importance, he immediately went to the Indian village, and in a loud and authoritative tone of voice, so as to be heard by all, commanded suit- able canoes to be taken to the imprisoned trader — a summons which was promptly obeyed. He then went to Mr. Lamotte and told him to embark fearlessly, and that he himself would see that he was not further hindered, at the same time lamenting the lateness of his return. The general conduct of this chief was marked by kindness and ur- banity. When traders arrived at Chagoimegon, where he lived, it was his custom to order his young men to cover and protect their baggage lest any thing should be injured or stolen. He was of the lineage of the noted war-chief, Abojeeg, or Wab Ojeeg. He lived to be very old, so that he walked nearly bent double — using a cane. The present ruling chief of that place, called Pezhickee, is his grandson. These anecdotes were re- lated by Mr. Cadotte, of Lapointe, in the year 1829, and are believed to be entitled to full confidence. The Tartars cannot pronounce the letter b. Those of Bulgaria pro- nounce the word blacks as if written ilacs. It is noticeable; that the Odji- bwas and their cognate tribes at the north, not only make great use of the letter b, in native words, but when they come to pronounce English words, in which the letter v occurs, they invariably substitute the b for it, as in village, and vinegar. * There are three letters in the English alphabet which the above tribes do not pronounce. They are f, r, and 1. For f, they substitute, in their attempts to pronounce foreign words, p. The sound of r, they change to broad a, or drop. L is changed to n. Singing and dancing are applied to political and to religious purposes by the Indians. When they wish to raise a war-party, they meet to sing and dance : when they wish to supplicate the divine mercy on a sick per- son, they assemble in a lodge, to sing and dance. No grave act is per* formed without singing and dancing. PRIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE RACE. WYANDOT TRADITIONS OF THE CREATION, / . AND OTHER EPOCHS. , The foHowing traditions of the creation of man, and of the Red Race ; of the order of precedence and relationship among the tribes, and the no- tice of the first arrival of Europeans on the continent, together with the allegories of Good and Evil, and of Civilization and Barbarism, are ex- tracted from a private journal, kept during the period of my official inter- course with the various tribes. Superintendency Indian Afiairs, Detroit, January 30th, 1837. A delegation of three Wyandot chiefs visited me, this day, from their location near Amherstburg in Canada, with their interpreter, George C. Martin. Their names were 0-ri-wa-hen-to, or Charlo, On-ha-to-tun-youh, or Round Head, son of Round Head, the brother of Splitlog, and Ty-er- on-youh, or Thomas Clark. They informed me, in reply to a question, that the present population of their band, at that location, was eighty-six souls. After transacting their business, I proposed several questions to them respecting their origin and history. 1. What is the origin of the Indians ? We believe that all men sprang from one man and woman, who were made by God, in parts beyond the sea. But in speaking of the Indians w^e say, how did they cross the sea without ships? and when did they come? and from what country) What is your opinion on the subject ? Oriwahento answered : " The old chief, Splitlog, who could answer you, is not able to come to see you from his age and feebleness ; but he has sent us three to speak with you. We will do the best we can. We are not able to read and write, like white men, and what you ask is not therefore to be found in black and white." (This remark was probably made as they observed I took notes of the interview.) " There was, in ancient times, something the matter with the earth, it has changed. We think so. We be.ieve God created it, and made men out of it. We think he made the Indians in this country, and that they did not come over the sea. They were created at a place called Morn- 196 WTANDOT TRADITIONS OF THE CREATION. 197 TAINS. It was eastward. When he had made the earth and those moun- tains, he covered something over the earth, as it were, with his hand. Below this, he pu^man. All the different tribes were there. One of the young men found his way out to the surface. He s%w a great light, and was delighted with the beauty of the surface. While gazing around, he saw a deer running past, with an arrow in his side. He followed it, to the place where it fell and died. He thought it was a harmless looking animal. He looked back to see its tracks, and he soon saw other tracks. They were the foot prints of the person who had shot the deer. He soon came up. It was the creator himself. He had taken this method to show the Indians what they must do, when they came out from the earth. The creator showed him how to skin and dress the animal, bidding him do so and so, as he directed him. When the flesh was ready, he told him to make a fire. But he was perfectly ignorant. God made the fire. He then directed him to put a portion of the meat on a stick, and roast it before the fire. But he was so ignorant that he let it stand till it burned on one side, while the other was raw. Having taught this man the hunter's art, so that he could teach it to others, God called the Indians forth out of the earth. They came in order, by tribes, and to each tribe he appointed a chief He appointed one Head Chief to lead them all, who had something about his neck, and he instructed him, and put it into his head what to say to the tribes. That he might have an opportunity to do So, a certain animal was killed, and a feast made, in which they were told to eat it all. The leader God had so chosen, told the tribes what they must do, to please their maker, and what they must not do. Oriwahento further said : God also made Good and Evil. They were brothers. The one went forth to do good, and caused pleasant things to grow. The other busied himself in thwarting his brother's work. He made stony and flinty places, and caused bad fruits, and made continual mischief among men. Good repaired the mischief as fast as it was done, but he found his labour never done. He determined to fly upon his brother and destroy him, but not by violence. He proposed to run a race with him. Evil consented, and they fixed upon the place. But first tell me, said Good, what is it you most dread. Bucks horns ! replied he, and tell me what is most hurtful to you. Indian grass braid ! said Good. Evil immediately went to his grandmother, who made braid, and got large quantities of it, which he put in the path and hung on the limbs that grew by the path where Good was to run. Good also filled the path of his brother with the dreaded horns. A question arose who should run first. I, said Good, will begin, since the proposition to try our skill first came from me. He accordingly set out, his brother following him. But as he began to feel exhausted at noon, he took up the grass braid and eat it This sustained him, and he tired down his brother before night, who 198 WYANDOT TRADIliONS OF THE CREATION. entreated him to stop. He did not, however, cense, till he had successful ty reached the goal. The next day Evil started on his path. He wai^encountered every where by the horns, which before noon had greatly weakened him. He entreated to be relieved from going on. Good insisted on his running the course. He sustained himself .'till sunset, when he fell in the path, and was finally dispatched by one of the horns wielded by his brother. Good now returned in triumph to his grandmother's lodge. But she was in an ill humour, as she always was, and hated him and loved his brother whom he had killed. He wanted to rest, but at night was awoke by a conversation between her and the ghost of Evil. The latter pleaded to come in, but although he felt for him, he did not allow his fraternal feelings to get the better, and resolutely denied admission. Then said Evil " I go to the north-west, and you will never see me more, and all who follow me will be in the same state. They will never come back. Death will for ever keep them." Having thus rid himself of his adversary, he thought he would walk out and see how things were going on, since there was no one to oppose his doing good. After travelling some time he saw a living object a-head. As he drew nearer, he saw more plainly. It was a naked man. They began to talk to each other. " I am walking to see the creation, which I have made," said Good, " but who are you ?" " Clothed man," said he, " I am as powerful as you, and have made all that land you see." " Naked man," he replied, " I have made ail things, but do not recollect making you." " You shall see my power," said the naked man, " we will try strength. Call to yonder mountain to come here, and afterwards I will do the same, and we will see who has the greatest power." The clothed man fell down on his knees, and began to pray, but the effort did not succeed, or but partially. Then the naked man drew a rattle from his belt, and be* gan to shake it and mutter, having first blindfolded the other. After a time, now said he, " look I" He did so, and the mountain stood close be- fore him, and rose up to the clouds. He then blindfolded him again, and resumed his rattle and muttering. The mountain had resumed its former distant position. The clothed man held in his left hand a sword, and in his right hand the law of God. The naked man had a rattle in one hand, and a war club in the other. They exchanged the knowledge of the respective uses of these things. To show the power of the sword, the clothed man cut off a rod, and placed it before him. The naked man immediately put the parts together and they were healed. He then took his club, which was flat, and cut ofif the rod, and again healed the mutilated parts. He relied on the rattle to answer the same purpose as the other's book. The clothed man tried the use of the club, but could not use it with skill, while the Baked man took the sword and used it as well as the other. WYANDOT TRADITIONS 3P THE CREATION. 199 Oriwahento continued: — It is said that Evil killed his mother at his birth. He did not enter the world the right way, but bursted from the womb. They took the body of the mother and laid it upon a scaffold. From the droppings of her decay, where they fell on the ground, sprang up corn, tobacco, and such other vegetable productions as the Indians have. Hence we call corn, our mother. And our tobacco propagates it- self by spontaneous growth, without planting ; but the clothed man is re- quired to labour in raising it. Good found his grandmother in no better humor when he came back from the interview with the naked man. He therefore took and cast her up, and she flew against the moon, upon whose face the traces ot her are •till to be seen. This comprised the first interview ; after a recess during which they were permitted to refresh themselves and smoke their pipes, I returned to the office and resumed the inquiries. 2. Where did your tribe first see white men on this continent? The French say you lived on the St. Lawrence, and afterwards went to the north, from whence you afterwards came down to the vicinity of Detroit That you possess the privilege of lighting up the general council fire for the Lake tribes ; and that you were converted to the catholic faith. Ori- wahento again answered. When the tribes were all settled, the Wyandots were placed at the head They lived in the interior, at the mountains east, about the St. Lawrence. They were the first tribe of old, and had the first chieftainship. The ciiief said to their nephew, the Lenapees, Go down to the sea coast and look, and if you see any thing bring me word. They had a village near the sea side, and often looked, but saw nothing except birds. At length they espied an object, which seemed to grow and come nearer, and nearer. When it came near the land it stopped, but all the people were afraid, and fled to the woods. The next day, two of their number ventured out to look. It was lying quietly on the water. A smaller object of the same sort came out of it, and walked with long legs (oars) over the water. When it came to land two men came out of it. They were different from us and made signs for the others to come out of the woods. A conference ensued. Presents were exchanged. They gave presents to the Lenapees, and the latter gave them their skin clothes as curiosities. Three distinct visits, at separate times, and long intervals, were made. The mode in which the white men got a footing, and power in the country was this. First, room was asked, and leave given to place a chair on the shore. But they soon began to pull the lacing out of its bottom, and go inland with it ; and they have not yet come to the end of the string. He exemplified this original demand for a cession of territory and its re- newal at other epochs, by other figures of speech, namely, of a bull's hide, and of a man walking. The first request for a seat on the 200 WYANDOT TRADITIONS OF THE CREATION. shore, was made he said of the Lenapees ; alluding u> the cogiuttt branches of this stock, who were anciently settled at the harbour of New York, and that vicinity. To the question of their flignt from the St. Lawrence, their settlement in the north, and their subsequent migration to, and settlemeut on, the straits of Detroit, Oriwahento said : The Wyandots were proud. God had said that such should be beaten and brought low. This is the cause why we were followed from the east, and went up north away to Michilimackinac, but as we had the right before, so when we came back, the tribes looked up to us, as hold- ing the council fire.* 3. What relationship do you acknowledge, to the other western tribes? , •■■,-.■ ;; ,, ^ ■■ r .' ■ ■> " Answer by Oriwahento : We call the Lenapees, nephews ; we call ihe Odjibwas (Chippewas) Ottawas, Miamis &c. Younger Brother. We call the Shawnees, the Youngest Brother. The Wyandots were the first tribe in ancient times. The first chieftainship was in their tribe. SUPPLEMENTARY QUESTIONS TO THE INTERPRTER. 1. Are the Wyandot and Mohawk languages, alike in sounds. You say, you speak both. Ans. Not at all alike. It is true there are a few words so, but the two languages do not seem to me more akin than English and French. You know some English and French words are alike. The Mohawk lan- guage is on the tongue., the Wyandot is in the throat. 2. Give me some examples : Read some of this translation of the Mo- hawk, (handing him John's Gospel printed by the American Bible So- ciety in 1818.) He fomplied, reading it fluently, and appearing to have been acquainted with the translation. Further conversation, in which his attention was drau-n to particular facts in its structure and principles, made him see stronger analogies be- tween the two tongues. It was quite evident, that he had never reflected on the subject, and that there were, both grammatically, and philologically, coincidences beyond his depth. t * This is cortainly a dignified and wise answer ; designed as it was, to cover their disastrous defeat and fliglit from the St. Lawrence valley to the north. The prece- dence to which he alludes, on reaching the straits of Detroit, as having been theirs be- fore, is to be understood, donbllcss, of the era of their residence on the lower St. I.Jiw- renee, where they were at the head of the French and Indian confederacy against th« Iroquois. Among tlie latter, they certainly had no precedency, so far as history reaches. Their council tiro was kept by the Onondagas. TRADITIONS OF THE ARCTIDES. There are some curious traditions related by the race of people living OQ that part of the continent lying north and west of Athabasca lake, and the river Unjigah. Mackenzie has described that branch of them, who are called by the trivial name of Che-pe-wyans. This is an Algonquin term, meaning puckered blankets, and has reference only to the most easterly and southerly division of the race. They are but the van of an extensive race. All that gives identity to their general traditions, and dis- tinctive character and language, relates as well to the Dogribs, the Cop- permines, the Strongbows, the Ambawtawoots, the Hares, the Brush- woods, the Sursees, the TacuUies, the Nateotetains, and other tribes lo- cated north of them, extending to the Arctic Ocean, and west through the Peace river pass of the Rocky Mountains. Philology brings into one groupe all these dialects of a wide spread race, who extend from the bor- ders of the Atnah nation on the Columbia, across the Rocky Mountains eastwardly to the Lake of the Hills and the Missinipi or Churchill river, covering many degrees of latitude and longitude. In the absence of any generic name for them, founded on language or character, I shall allude to them under the geographical phrase of Arctides. This stock of people have proceeded from the direction of the North Pacific towards the Atlantic waters, in a general eastern direction, in which respect, their history forms a striking exception to the other great stocks of the eastern part of the United States, the Canadas, and Hudson's bay, who have been in a continual progress towards the west and north- west. The Arctides, on the contrary, have proceeded east and southeast. They may be supposed, therefore, to bring their traditions more directly from opposite portions of the continent, and from Asia, and it may be in- ferred, from more unmixed and primitive sources. Some of these tradi- tions are, at least, of a curious and striking character. They believe, like the more southerly tribes, in the general tradition of a deluge, and of a paradise, or land of future VUss. They y>avr3 apparently, veiled the Great 201 S02 TRADITIONS OF THE ARCTIDES. Spirit, or creator of the globe, under the allegory of a gigantic bird. They believe, that there was originally nothing visible but one vast ocean. Upon this the bird descended from the sky, with a noise of his wings which produced sounds resembling thunder. The earth, as he alighted, immediately rose above the waters. This bird of creative power, then made all the classes of animals, who were made out of earth. They all had precedency to man. Man alone, the last in the series, was created from the integument of a dog. This, they believe, was their own origin, and hence, as Mackenzie tells us, they will not eat the flesh of this animal, as is done by the other tribes of the continent. To guard and protect them, he then made a magic arrow, which they were to preserve with great care, and hold sacred. But they were so thoughtless, they add, as to carry it away and lose it, upon which the great, bird took his flight, and has never since appeared. This magic arrow is doubtless to be regarded as a symbol of something else, which was very essential to their safety and happiness. Indian history is often disguised under such symbolic forms. They have also a tradition that they originally came from a foreign country, which was inhabited by a wicked people. They had to cross a great lake, or water, which was shallow, narrow, and full of islands. Their track lay also through snow and ice, and they suffered miserably from cold. They first landed at the mouth of the Coppermine river. The earth thereabouts was then strewed with metallic copper, which has since disappeared. They believe that, in ancient times, meti lived till their feet were worn out with walking, and their throats with eating. They represent their ancestors as living to very great ages. They describe a deluge, in which the waters spread over the whole earth, except the highest mountains, on which their progenitors were saved. Their notions of a future state coincide generally with the other stocks. But their paradise is clothed with more imaginative traits. They oelieve, that at death they pass immediately to another world, where there is a large river of water to cross. They must embark in a stone canoe, and are borne along into a wide lake, which has an island in its centre. This is the island of the blest, and the object of the disembodied soul is to reach it If their lives have been good, they will be fortunate, and make it If bad, they will sink ; but they will only sink to the depth of their chins, so that they may be permitted to behold the happy land, and strive in vain to reach it Eternity is passed in this vain endeavour. They have also some notion of the doctrine of transmigration. Such are the traditionary notions of this numerous family of the Red Race, which are sufficiently distinctive and peculiar, — and while they resemble in many traits, yet in others they contradistinguish them from the great Algic race of the eastern part of the continent. The most ^advanced TRADITIONS OF THE ARCTIDE8 203 branch of these a'es in their geograghical position, call themselves, as reported by Capt FrankHn, People of the Rising Sun, or Smo-eesato- dinneh. It seems singular, that the farther north we go, the greater evidences do we behold of imagination, in the aboriginal race, together v/ith some fore- shadowings of future punishment. HISTORICAL TRADITIONS OF THE CHIPPEWAS, ODJIB- WAS, OR ODJIBWA-ALGONaUINS. Of all the existing branches of the Algonquin stock in America, thit extensive and populous tribe appears to have the strongest claims to intel- lectual distinction, on the score of their traditions, so far, at least, as the present state of our inquiries extends. They possess, in their curious fictitious legends and lodge-tales, a varied and exhaustless fund of tradition, which is repeated from generation to generation. These legends hold, among the wild men of the north, the relative rank of story-books ; and are intended both to amuse and instruct. This people possess also, the art of picture writing, in a degree which denotes that they have been, either more careful, or more fortunate, in the preservation of this very an- cient art of th*j human race. Warriors, and the bravest of warriors, they are yet an intellectual people. Their traditions and belief, on the origin of the globe, and the existence of a Supreme Being, are quite accordant with some things in our own history and theory. They believe that the Great Spirit created material .nutter, and that he made the earth and heavens, by the power of his will. He afterwards made animals and men, out of the earth, and he filled space with subordinate spirits, having something of his own nature, to whom he gave a part of his own power. He made one great and master spirit of evil, to whom ho &lso gave assimilated and subordinate evil spirits, to execute his will. Two antagonist powers, they believe, were thus placed in the world who are continually striving lor cne mastery, and who have power to aiTect the fortunes and lives of men. This constitutes the ground- work of their religion, sacrifices and worship. They believe that animals were created before men, and that they orif't> nally had rule on the earth. By the power of I'tcromancy, some of these animals were transformed to men, who, as soon as they assumed this n»^ form, began to hunt the animals, and make war against them. It iB 904 INDIAN TRADITION!. expected that these animala will resume their human shapes, in a future state, and hence their hunters, feign some clumsy excuses, for their present policy of killing them. They believe that all animals, and birds and reptiles, and even insects, possess reasoning faculties, and have souls. It is in these opinions, that we detect the ancient doctrine of transmigration. Their most intelligent priests tell us, that their forefathers worshipped the sun ; this luminary was regarded by them, as one of their Medas told me, as the symbol of divine intelligence, and the figure of it is drawn in their system of picture writing, to denote the Great Spirit. This symbol very often occurs in their pictures of the medicine dance, and the wabeno dance, and other sacred forms of their rude inscriptions. They believe, at least to some extent, in a duality of souls, one of which is fleshly, or corporeal, the other is incorporeal or mental. The fleshly sdu. goes immediately, at death, to the land of spirits, or future bliss. The mental soul abides with the body, and hovers round the place of sepul- ture. A future state is regarded by them, as a state of rewards, and not of punishments. They expect to inhabit a paradise, fllled with pleasures for the eye, and the ear, and the taste. A strong and universal belief in divine mercies absorbs every other attribute of the Great Spirit, except his power and ubiquity ; and they believe, so far as we can , gather it, that this mercy will be shown to all. There is not, in general, a very discriminating sense of moral distinctions and responsibilities, and the faint out-shadowings, which we sometimes hear among them, of a deep and sombre stream to be crossed by the adventurous soul, in its way to the land of bliss, does not exercise such a practical influence over their lives, as to interfere with the belief of universal acceptance after death. So firm is this belief, that their proper and most reverend term for the Great Spirit, is G^zha Monedo, that is to say, Merciful Spirit. Gitchy Monedo, which is also employed, is often an equivocal phrase. The term W&z- he&ud, or Maker, is used to designate the Creator, when speaking of his animated works. The compound phrase W&osemigdyan, or universal Father, is also heard. The great spirit of evil, called Mudje Monedo, and Matche Monito, is regarded as a created^ and not a pre-existing being. Subordinate spirits of evil, are denoted by using the derogative form of the word, in sk by which Moneto is rendered Monetosh. The exceeding flexibility of the language is well calculated to enable them to express distinction of this nature. This tribe has a general tradition of a deluge, in which the earth was covered with water, reaching above the highest hills, or mountains, but not above a tree which grew on the latter, by climbing which a man was saved. This man was the demi-god of their fictions, who is called Mana- bozho, by whose means the waters were stayed and the earth re-created. He employed for this purpose various animals who were sent to dive INDIAN TRADITIONS. S05 4own for some of the primordial earth, of which a little was, at length, brought up by the beaver, and this formed the germ or nucleus of the new, or rather rescued planet. What particular allegories are hid under this story, is not certain ; but it is known that this, and other tribes, are much in the habit of employing allegories, and symbols, under which we may suspect, they have concealed parts of their historical traditions and be- liefs. This deluge of the Algonquin tribes, was produced, as their legends tell, by the agency of the chief of the evil spirits, symbolized by a great serpent, who is placed, throughout the tale, in an antagonistical posi- tion to the demi-god Manabosho. This Manabozho, is the same, it is thought, with the Abou, and the Michabou, or the Great Hare of elder writers. Of their actual origin and history, the Chippewas have no other certain tradition, than that they came from Wabenong, that is to say, the land of the EAST. They have no authentic history, therefore, but such remembered events, as must be placed subsequent to the pia of the discovery of the conti- nent. Whether this tradition is to be interpreted as an ancient one, having reference to their arrival on the continent, or merely to the track of their mi- gration, after reaching it, is a question to be considered. It is only certain, that they came to their present position on the banks of Lake Superior, from the direction of the Atlantic seaboard, and were, when discovered, in the attitude of an invading nation, pressing westward and northward. Their distinctive name sheds no light on this question. They call themselves Od-jib-wdg, which is the plural of Odjibwa, — a term which appears to denote a peculiarity in their voice, or manner of utterance. This word has been pronounced Chippewa by the Saxon race in America, ^nd is thus recorded in our treaties and history. They are, in language, manners and customs, and other characteristics, a well marked type of the leading Algonquin race, and indeed, the most populous, important, and wide spread existing branch of that family now on the continent. The term Chippewa, may be considered as inveterately fixed by popular usaQ-e. but in all disquisitions which have their philology or distinctive cnaracter m view, me true vernacular term of Od-jib-wa, will be found to possess advantages to writers. The word Algonquin is still applied to a small local band, at the Lake of Two Mountains, on the Utawas river, near Montreal, but this term, first bestowed by the French, has long been a generic phrase for the entire race, who are identified by the ties of a common original language in the United States and British America. One of the most curious opinions of this people is their belief in the mysterious and sacred character of fire. They obtain sacred fire, for all national and ecclesiastical purposes, from the flint. Their national pipes are lighted with this fire. It is symbolical of purity. Their notions of the boundary between life and death, which is also symbolically the limit of the material verge between this and a future state, are revealed in con- 206 IlTDIAlf TRADITIONt. nection with the exhibition of flamea of fire. They also make lacrificet by fire of iome part of the first fruits of the chase. These traiu are to be viewed, perhaps, in relation to their ancient worship of the sun, above no- ticed, of which the traditions and belief, are still generally preserved. The existence among them of the numerous classes of jossakeeds, or mut- terers — (the word is from the utterance of sounds low on the earth,) is a trait that will remind the reader of a similar class of men, in early ages, in the eastern hemisphere. These persons constitute, indeed, the Magii of our western forests. In the exhibition of their art, and of the peculiar notions they promulgate on the subject of a sacred fire, and the doctrine of transmigration, they would seem to have their affiliation of descent rather with the disciples of Zoroaster and the fruitful Persian stock, than with the less mentally refined Mongolian hordes. MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION OF THE ALGONQUINS. TUBIR 8rST£H OP MANITO WOKSHIP, AS XKOENTT.Y DISOLOSKD BY THX OOMPBS- SIONS OF ONE OP THEIR prophets; THEIR LANQUAOEH, A ND CHARACTER OP TUB tBANSr.ATIONS OP THE GOSPEL HADE INTO THESE DIALECTS; AND TUB LEAD* IMO MOTIVED OF CHRISTIANS AND PHILANTHROPISTS TO PBRSBVBBB IN TBBIB WVILISATION AND CONVERSION.* It is known that the Indian tribes of this continent live in a state ot mental bondage to a class of men, who officiate as their priests and soothsayers. These men found their claims to supernatural power on early fastings, dreams, ascetic manners and habits, and often on some real or feigned fit of insanity. Most of them affect a knowledge of charms and incantations. They are provided with a sack of mystic im- plements, the contents of which are exhibited in the course of their cere- monies, such as the hollow bones of some of the larger anseres, small carved representations of animals, cowrie and other sea-shells, &c. Some of these men acquire a character for much sanctity, and turn their influ- ence to political purposes, either personally or through some popular warrior, as was instanced in the success of the sachems Buchanjahela, Little Turtle and Tecumthe. We have recently had an opportunity of conversing with one of this class of sacred person, who has within late years embraced Christianity ; and have made some notes of the interview, which we will advert to for the purpose of exhibiting his testimony, as to the true character of thia • Nev York Lit & Theo. Review. MYTHOLOOY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIOIOlf 207 olaM of impostors. Chusco, the person referred to, is an Ottawa Indian who has long exercised the priestly office, so to say, to his brethren on the northern frontiers. He is now a man tui ned of seventy. He is of small stature, somewhat bent forward, and supports the infirmities of age by walking with a staff His sight is imp^iired, but his memory ac- curate, enabling him to narrate with particularity events which transpired more than half a century ago. He was pr( "nt at the great convocation of northern Indians at Greenville, which followed Gen. Wayne's victories in the west — an event to which most of these tribes took back, as an era in their history. He afterwards returned to his native country in the upper lakes, and fixed his residence at Michilimackinac, where in late years, his wife became a convert to the Christian faith, and unit- ed herself to the mission church on that island. A few years after, the old prophet, who despised this mode of faith, and thought but little of his wife's sagacity in uniting herself to a congregation of believers, felt his own mind arrested by the same truths, and finally also embraced them, and was propounded for admission, and afterwards kept on trial before the session. It was about this time, or soon after he had been received as an applicant for membership, that the writer visited his lodge, and entered into a full examination of his sentiments and opinions, contrasting them freely with what they had formerly been. We requested him to narrate to us the facts of his conversion to the principles of Chris- tianity, indicating the progress of truth on his mind, which he did insub- stancejthrough an interpreter, as follows : " In the early pari of my life I lived very wickedly, following the Meta, the Jebsukan, and the Wabeno, the three great superstitious ob- servances of my people. I did not know that these societies were made up of errors until my wife, whose heart had been turned by the mission- aries, informed me of it. I had no pleasure in listening to her on this subject, and often turned away, declaring that I was yrell satisfied with the religion of my forefathers. She took every occasion of talking to me on the subject. She told me that the Indian societies were bad, and that all who adhered to them were no better than open servants of the Evil Spirit. She had, in particular, /our long talks with me on the sub- ject, and explained to me who God was, and what sin was, as it is writ- ten in God's book. I believed before, that there was One Great Spirit who was the Master of life, who had made men and beasts. But she explained to me the true character of this Great Spirit, the sinfulness of the heart, and the necessity of having it changed from evil to good by praying through Jesus Christ. By degrees I came to understand it. She told me that the Ghost of God or Holy Spirit only could make the heart better, and that the souls of all who died, without having felt this power, would be burned in the fires. The missionaries had directed her to speak to me and put words in her mouth ; and she said so much that, W8 OF THE ALGONQUINS. I m at lengthj I did not feel satisfied with my old way of life. Amongst other things she spoke against drinking, which I was very fond of. " I did not relish these conversations, but I could not forget them When I reflected upon them, my heart was not as fixed as it used to be. I began to see that the Indian Societies were bad, for I knew from my own experience, that it was not a good Spirit that I had relied upon, j determined that I would not undertake to jeesukA or to look into futurity any longer for the Indians, nor practice the Mela's art. After a while I began to see more fully that the Indian ceremonies were all bad, and I de- termined to quit them altogether, and give heed to what was declared in God's book. " The first time that I felt I was to be condemnpd as a sinner, and that I was in danger of being punished for sin by God, is clearly in my mind. I was then on the Island of Bois Blanc, making sugar with my wife. I was in a conflict of mind, and hardly knew what I was about. I walked around the kettles, and did not know what I walked for. I felt some- times like a person wishing ♦o cry, but I thought it would be unman- ly to cry. For the space of two weeks, I felt in this alarmed and unhappy mood. It seemed to me sometimes as if I must die. My heart and my bones felt as if they would burst and fall asunder. My wife asked me if I was s^ick, and said I looked pale. I was in an agony of body and mind, especially during one week. It seemed, during this time, as if an evil spirit haunted me. When I went out to gather sap, I felt conscious that this spirit went with me and dogged me. It ap- peared to animate my own shadow. " My strength was failing under this conflict. One night, after I had been busy all day, my mind was in great distress. This shadowy influ- ence seemed to me to persuade me to go to sleep. I was tired, and I wished rest, but I could not sleep. I began to pray. I knelt down and prayed t^> God. I continued to pray at intervals through the night ; I asked to know the truth. I then laid down and went to sleep. This sleep brought me rest and peace. In the morning my wife awoke me, telling me it was late. When I awoke I felt placid and easy in mind. My distress had left me. I asked my wife what day it was. She told me it was the Sabbath (in the Indian, prayer-day). I replied, ' how I wish I could go to the church at the mission ! Formerly I used to avoid it, and shunned those who wished to speak to me of praying to God, but now my heart longs to go there.' This feeling did not leave me. " After three days I went to the mission. The gladness of my heart cOi^Mnued the same as I had felt it the first morning at the camp. My first feeling when I landed, was pity for my drunken brethren, and I prayed that they might also be brought to find the true God. I spoke to the missionary, who at subsequent interviews explained to rpe the truth, th»^ rite of baptism, and other principles. He wished, however, to MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION 209 try me by my life, and I wished it also. It was the following autumn, that I was received into the church." We now turned his mind to the subject of intemperance in drinking, understanding that it had been his former habit. He replied that he had been one of the greatest drunkards. He had not been satisfied with a ten days' drink. He would go {>nd drink as long as he could get it. He said, that during the night in which he first prayed, it was one of the first subjects of his prayers, that God would remove this desire with his other evil desires. He added, " God did so." When he arose that morning the desire had left him. The evil spirit then tempted him by suggesting to his mind — " Should some one now enter and offer you liquor, would you not taste it .'" He averred he could, at that moment, firmly answer No ! It was now seven years since he had tasted a drop of strong drink. He remarked that when he used first to visit the houses of Christians, who gladly opened their doors to him, they were in the habit of asking him to drink a glass of cider or wine, which he did. But this practice had nearly ruined him. On one occasion he felt the effects of what he had thus been prevailed on to drink. The danger he felt himself to be in was such, that he was alarmed and gave up this prac- tice also. He detailed some providential trials which he had been recently ex- posed to. He had observed, he said, that those of his people who had professed piety and had subsequently fallen off, had nevertheless pros- pered in worldly things, while he had found it very hard to live. He was often in a state of want, and his lodge was so poor and bad, that it would not keep out the rain. Both he and his wife were feeble, and their clothes were worn out. They had now but a single blanket be- tween them. But when these trials came up in his mind, he immedi- ately resorted to God, who satisfied him. Another trait in the character of his piety, may here be mentioned. The autumn succeeding his conversion, he went over to the spot on the island Avhere he had planted potatoes. The Indian method is, not to visit their small plantations from the time that their corn or potatoes are hilkd. He was pleased to find that the crop in this instance promised to yield abundantly, and his wife injmediately commenced the process of raising them. " Stop !" exclaimed the grateful old man, " dare you dig these potatoes until we have thanked the Lord for them V They then both knelt in prayer, and afterwards gathered the crop. This individual appeared to form a tangible point in the intellectual chain between Paganism and Christianity, which it is felt important to examine. We felt desirous of drawing from him such particulars respect- ing his former practice in necromancy and the prophetic art, as might lead to correct philosophical conclusions. He had been the great juggler of his tribe. He was now accepted as a Christian. What were his own 14 I 1 ■ I ■fki-r W!if. i 210 or THE AL.GO\(.iL'lN8. conceptions of the power and arts he had practised ? How did these things appear to his mind, after a lapse of several years, during which his opinions and feelings had undergone changes, in many respects so striking ? We found not the slightest avoiding of this topic on his part. He attributed all his ability in deceptive arts to the agency of the Evil Spirit ; and he spoke of it with the same settled tone that he had manifest* ed in reciting other points in his personal experience. He believed that he had followed a spirit whose object it was to deceive the Indians and make them miserable. He believed that this spirit had left him and that he was now following, in the affections of his heart, the spirit o£ Truth. Numerous symbols of the classes of the animate creation are relied on by the Indian metays and wabcnos, to exhibit their affected power of working miracles and to scrutinize the scenes of futurity. The objects which this man had appealed to as personal spirits in the arcanum of his lodge, were the tortoise, the swan, the woodpecker and the crow. He had dreamed of these at his initial fast in his youth, during the period set apart for this purpose, and he believed that a satanic influence was exerted, by presenting to his mind one or more of these solemnly appro- priated objects at the moment of 'his invoking them. This is the theory drawn from his replies. We solicited him to detail the modus operandi^ after entering the juggler's lodge. This lodge resembles an acute pyra- mid with the apex open. It is formed of poles, covered with tight- drawn skins. His replies were perfectly ingenuous, evincing nothing of the natural taciturnity and shyness of the Indian mind. I'he great ob- ject with the operator is to agitate this lodge, and cause it to move and shake without uprooting it from its basis, in such a manner as to induce the spectators to believe that the power of action is superhuman. Af- ter this manifestation of spiritual presence, the priest within is prepared to give oracular responses. The only articles within were a drum and rattle. In reply to our inquiry as to the mode of procedure^ he stated that his first essay, after entering the lodge, was to strike the drum and commence his incantations. At this time his personal manitos assumed their agency, and received, it is to be inferred, a satamc energy. Not that he affects that there was any visible form assumed. But he felt their spirit-like presence. He represents the agitation of the lodge to be due to currents of air, having the irregular and gyratory power of a whirlwind. He does not pretend that his responses were guided by truth, but on the contrary affirms that they were given under the influ- ence of the evil spirit. We interrogated him as to the use of physical and mechanical means in effecting cures, in the capacity of a meta, or a medicine man. He referred to various medicines, some of which he thinks were antibilious or otherwise sanatory. He used two bones in the exhibition of his I MYTHOLOGV, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION 211 physical skill, one of which was white and the other green. His arca- num also embraced two small stone images. He affected to look into and through the flesh, and to draw from the body fluids, as bile and blood He applied his mouth in suction. He characterized both the meta or medicine dances and the wabeno dances by a term which may be trans- lated deviltry. Yet he discriminated between these two popular insti* tutions by adding that the meta included the use of medicines, good and bad. The wabenOj on the contrary, consisted wholly in a wild exhibi- tion of mere braggadocio and trick. It is not, according to him, an an- cient institution. It originated, he said, with a Pottawattomie, who was sick and lunatic a month When this man recovered he pretended that he had ascended to heaven, and had brought thence divine arts, to aid his countrymen. With respect to the opinion steadfastly maintained by this venerable subject of Indian reformation, that his deceptive arts were rendered effec- tual in the way he designed, by satanic agency ^ we leave the reader to form his own conclusions. In his mode of stating the facts, we concede much to him, on the score of long established mental habits, and the peculiarities arising from a mythology, exceeding even that of ancient Greece, for the number, variety and ubiquity of its objects. But we per- ceive nothing, on Christian theories, heterodox in the general position. When the truth of the gospel comes to be giafted into the benighted heart of a pagan, such as Chusco was, it throws a fearful light on the objects which have been cherished there. The whole system of the mythological agency of the gods and spirits of the heathen world and its clumsy machinery is shown to be a sheer system of demonology, refera- ble, in its operative effects on the minds of individuals, to the " Prince of the power of the air." As such the Bible depicts it. We have not been in the habit of conceding the existence of demoniacal possessions, in the present era of Christianity, and have turned over some scores of chapters and verses to satisfy our minds of the abrogation of thete things. But we have found no proofs of such a withdrawal of evil agency short of the very point where our subject places it — that is, the dawning of the light of Christianity in the heart. We have, on the contrary, found in the passages referred to, t' » declaration of the full and free existence of such an ff,°ncy in the general import, and apprehend that it cannot be plucked > at of the sacred writings. The la iguage of such an agency appears to be fully developed among the northern tribes. Spirit-ridden they certainly are ; and the mental slavery in which they live, under the fear of an invisible agency of evil spirits, is, we apprehend, greater even than the bondage of the body. The whole mind is bowed down under these intellectual fetters which circumscribe its volitions, and bind it as effectually as with the hooks of steel which pierce a whirling Hindoo's flesh. Whatever is wonderful, 212 OF THE ALOONQUINS. or past comprehension to their minds, is referred to the agency of a spirit This is the ready solution of every mystery in nature, and of every re finement of mechanical power in art. A watch is, in the intricacy of its machinery, a spirit. A piece of blue cloth — cast and blistered steel— a compass, a jewel, an insect, &c., are, respectively, a spirit. Thunder consists, in their transcendental astronomy, of so many distinct spirits. The aurora borealis is a body of dancing spirits, or rather ghosts of the departed. Such were the ideas and experiences of Chusco, after his union with the church ; and with these views he lived and died, having given evidence, as was thought, of the reception of the Saviour, through faith. To give some idea of the Indian mythology as above denoted, it is necessary to conceive every department of the universe to be filled with invisible spirits. These spirits hold in their belief nearly the same rela- tion to matter that the soul does to the body : they pervade it. They believe not only that every man, but also that every animal, has a soul; and as might be expected under this belief, they make no distinction between instinct and reason. Every animal is supposed to be endowed with a reasoning faculty. ■ The movements of birds and other animals are deemed to be the result, not of mere instinctive animal powers im- planted and limited by the creation, without inherent power to exceed or enlarge them, but of a process of ratiocination. They go a step farther, and believe that animals, particularly birds, can look into, and are fami- liar with the vast operations of the world above. Hence the great re- spect they pay to birds as agents of omen, and also to some animals, whose souls they expect to encounter in another life. Nay, it is the settled belief among the northern Algonquins, that animals will fare bet- ter in another world, in the precise ratio that their lives and enjoyments have been curtailed in this life. Dreams are considered by them as a means of direct communication with the spiritual world ; and hence the great influence which dreams exert over the Indian mind and conduct. They are generally regarded as friendly warnings of their personal manitos. No labor or enterprise is undertaken against their indications. A whole army is turned back if the dreams of the officiating priest are unfavorable. A family lodge has been known to be deserted by all its inmates at midnight, leaving the fixtures behind, because one of the family had dreamt of an attack, and been frightened with the impression of blood and tomahawks. To give more solemnity to his office the priest or leading meta exhibits a sack containing the carved or stuffed images of animals, with medicines and bones constituting the sacred charms. These are never exhibited to the common gaze, but, on a march, the sack is hung up in plain view. To profane the medicine sack would be equivalent to violating the atlar. MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION 918 Dreams are carefully sought by every Indian, whatever be their rank, at certain periods of youth, with fasting. These fasts are sometimes continued a great number of days, until the devotee becomes pale and emaciated. The animals ^at appear propitiously to the mmd during these dreams, are fixed on and selected as personal manitos, and are ever after viewed as guardians. This period of fasting and dream- ing is deemed as essential by them as any religious rite whatever em- ployed by Christians. The initial fast of a young man or girl holds the relative importance of baptism, with this peculiarity, that it is a free- will, or self-dedicatory rite. The naming of children has an intimate connection with the system of mythological agency. Names are usually bestowed by some aged per- son, most commonly under the supposed guidance of a particular spirit. They are often derived from the mystic scenes presented in a dream, and refer to aerial phenomena. Yellow Thunder, Bright Sky , Big Cloud, Spirit Sky, Spot in the Sky, are common names for males. Females are more commonly named from the vernal or autumnal landscape, as Woman of the Valley, Woman of the Rock, &c. Females are not excluded from par- ticipation in the prophetical office or jugglership. Instances of their hav- ing assumed this function are known to have occurred, although it is commonly confined to males. In every other department of life they are apparently regarded as inferior or inclusive beings. Names bestowed with ceremony in childhood are deemed sacred, and are seldom pro- nounced, out of respect, it would seem, to the spirit under whose favor they are supposed to have been selected. Children are usually called in the family by some name which can be familiarly used. A male child is frequently called by the mother, a bird, or young one, or old man, as terms of endearment, or bad boy, evil-doer, &c., in the way of light re- proach ; and these names often adhere to the individual through life. Parents avoid the true name often by saying my son, my younger, or my elder son, or my younger or my elder daughter, for which the language has separate words. This subject of a reluctance to tell their names is very curious and deserving of investigation. The Indian " art and mystery" of hunting is a tissue of necromantic or mythological reliances. The personal spirits of the hunter are invok- ed to give success in the chace. Images of the animals sought for are sometimes carved in wood, or drawn by the metas on tabular pieces of wood By applying their mystic medicines to these, the animals are supposed to be drawn into the hunter's path ; and when animals have been killed, the Indian feels, that although they are an authorized and lawful prey, yet there is something like accountability to the animal's suppositional soul. An Indian has been known to ask the pardon of an animal, which he had just killed. Drumming, shaking the rattle, and dancing and singing, are the common accompaniments of all these super- 214 Of TH£ ALUONQUtNSt stitious observances, and are not peculiar to one class alone. In the xrabeno dance, which is esteemed by the Indians as the most latitudina- rian co-fraternity, love songs are introduced. They are never heard in the medicine dances. They would subject one to utter contempt in the war dance. The system of manito worship has another peculiarity, which is illus- trative of Indian character. During the fasts and ceremonial dances by which a warrior prepares himself to come up to the duties of war, every- thing that savors of effeminacy is put aside. The spirits which preside over bravery and war are alone relied on, and these are supposed to be offended by the votary's paying attention to objects less stern and manly than themselves. Venus and Mars cannot be worshipped at the same time. It would be considered a complete desecration for a warrior, while engaged in war, to entangle himself by another, or more tender sentiment. We think this opinion should be duly estimated in the gen- eral award which history gives to the chastity of warriors. We would record the fact to their praise, as fully as it has been done ; but we would subtract something from the mo/toe, in view of his paramount obligations of a sacred character, and also the fear of the ridicule of his co-warriors. In these leading doctrines of an oral and mystic school of wild philo- sophy may be perceived the ground-work of their mythology, and the general motive for selecting familiar spirits. Manito, or as the Chippe- was pronounce it, mone'do, signifies simply a spirit, and there is neither a good nor bad meaning attached to it, when not under the government of some adjective or qualifying particle. We think, however, that so far as there is a meaning distinct from an invisible existence, the tendency is to a bad meaning. A bad meaning is, however, distinctly conveyed by the inflection, osh or ish. The particle wee, added in the same rela- tion, indicates a witch. Like numerous other nouns, it has its diminu- tive in OS, its plural in wug, and its local form in ing. To add " great," as the Jesuit writers did, is far from deciding the moral character of the spirit, and hence modern translators prefix gezha, signifying merciful. Yet we doubt whether the word God should not be carried boldly into translations of the scriptures. In the conference and prayer-room, the native teachers use the inclusive pronominal form of Father, altogether. Truth breaks slowly on the mind, sunk in so profound a darkness as the Indians are, and there is danger in retaining the use of words like those which they have so long employed in a problematical, if not a deroga- tive sense. The love for mystery and magic which pervades the native ceremo- nies, has affected the forms of their language. They have given it a power to impart life to dead masses. Vitality in their forms of utter- ance is deeply implanted in all these dialects, which have been examin- ed ; they provide, by the process of inflection, for keeping a perpetual MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RELIGION 216 distinction between the animate and inanimate kingdoms. But where vitality and spirituality are so blended as we see them in their doctrine of animal souls, the inevitable result must be, either to exalt the princi- ple of life, in all the classes of nature, into immortality, or to sink the lat- ter to the level of mere organic life. Indian word-makers have taken the former dilemma, and peopled their paradise not only with the souls of men, but with the souls of every imaginable kind of beasts. Spir- ituality is thus clogged with sensual accidents. The human soul hungers, and it must have food deposited upon the grave. It suffers from cold, and the body must be wrapped about with cloths. It is in darkness, and a light must be kindled at the head of the grave. It wan- ders through plains and across streams, subject to the providences of this life, in quest of its place of enjoyment, and when it reaches it, it finds every species of sensual trial, which renders the place not indeed a heaven of rest, but another experimental world — very much like this. Of punishments, we hear nothing ; rewards are looked for abundantly, and the idea that the Master of life, or the merciful Spirit, will be alike merciful to all, irrespective of the acts of this life, or the degree of moral turpitude, appears to leave for their theology a belief in restorations or universalism. There is nothing to refer them to a Saviour ; that idea was beyond their conception, and of course there was no occasion for the offices of the Holy Ghost. Darker and more chilling views to a theolo- gian, it would be impossible to present. Yet it may be asked, what more benign result could have been, or can now be, anticipated in the hearts of an ignorant, uninstructed and wandering people, exposed to sore vicissitudes in their lives and fortunes, and without the guidance oi the light of Revelation ? Of their mythology proper, we have space only to make a few re- marks. Some of the mythologic existences of the Indians admit of poetic uses. Manabozho may be considered as a sort of terrene Jove, who could perform all things whatever, but lived some time on earth, and excelled particularly in feats of strength and manual dexterity. All the animals were subject to him. He also survived a deluge, which the traditions mention, ha vin^ climbed a tree on an extreme elevation during the prevalence of the waters, and sent down various animals for some earth, out of which he re-created the globe. The four cardinal points are so many demi-gods, of whom the West, called Kabeun, has priority of age. The East, North and South are deemed to be his sons, by a maid who incautiously exposed herself to the west wind. Iagoo (lagoo) is the god of the marvellous, and many most extravagant tales of forest and domestic adventure are heaped upon him. Kwasind is a sort of Samson, who threw a huge mass oi rock such as the Cy- clops cast at Mentor. Weeng is the god of sle^p, who is represented to have numerous small emissaries at his service, reminding us oi Pope's 216 OF THE ALOONQUINS. creation of gnomes. These minute emissaries climb up the foreheady and wielding a tiny club, knock individuals to sleep. Pauouk is death, in bis symbolic attitude. He is armed with a bow and arrows. It would be easy to extend this enumeration. The mental powers of the Indian constitutes a topic which we do not design to discuss. But it must be manifest that some of their peculiari- ties are brought out by their system of mythology and spirit-craft. War, public policy, hunting, abstinence, endurance and courageous adventure, form the leading topics of their mental eiTorts. These are deemed the appropriate themes of men, sages and warriors. But their intellectual essays have also a domestic theatre of exhibition. It is here that the Indian mind unbends itself and reveals some of its less obvious traits. Their public speakers cultivate a particular branch of oratory. They are careful in the use of words, and are regarded as standards of purity in the language. They appear to have an accurate ear for sounds, and delight in rounding off a period, for which the languages afford great fa- cilities, by their long and stately words, and multiform inflexions. A drift of thought — an elevation of style, is observable in their public speak- ing Nvhich is dropt in private conversation. Voice, attitude and motion, are deemed of the highest consequence. Much of the meaning of their expressions is varied by the vehement, subdued, or prolonged tone in which they are uttered. In private conversation, on the contrary, all is altered. There is an equanimity of tone, and easy vein of narration or dialogue, in which the power of mimicry is most strikingly brought out. The very voice and words of the supposed speakers, in their ficti- tious legends, are assumed. Fear, supplication, timidity or boasting, are exactly depicted, and the deepest interest excited. All is ease and freedom from restraint. There is nothing of the coldness or severe for- mality of the council. The pipe is put to its ordinary use, and all its symbolic sanctity is laid aside with the wampum belt and the often reiter- ated state epithets, " Nosa" and " Kosinan," i. e. my father and our father. Another striking trait of the race is found in their legends and tales. Those of the aboriginal race who excel in private conversation, become to their .tribes oral chroniclers, and are relied on for historical traditions as well as tales. It is necessary, in listening to them, to distinguish between the gossip and the historian, the narrator of real events, and of nursery tales. For they gather together everything from the fabu- lous feats of Manebozho and Misshozha, to the hair-breadth escapes of a Pontiac, or a Black Hawk. These narrators are generally men of a good memory and a certain degree of humor, who have experienced vicissitudes, and are cast into the vale of years. In the rehearsal of their tales, transformations and transmigrations are a part of the machinery relied on ; and some of them are as accurately adapted to the purposes of amusement or instruction, as if Zoroaster or Qv\A himself had been MYTHOLOGY, SUPERSTITIONS, AND RULIGION 217 the ztual the consulttsd in their production. Many objects in the inanimate creation, according to these tales, were originally men and women. And nume> rous animals had other forms in their first stages of existence, which they, as well as human beings, forfeited, by the power of necromancy and transmigration. The evening star, it is fabled, was formerly a woman. An ambitious boy became one of the planets. Three brothers, travel- ling in a canoe, were translated into a group of stars. The fox, lynx, hare, robin, eagle and numerous other species, retain places in the In- dian system of astronomy. The mouse obtained celestial elevation by creeping up the rainbow, which Indian story makes a flossy mass of bright threads, and by the power of gnawing them, he relieved a captive in the sky. It is a coincidence, which we note, that ursa major is called by them the bear. These legends are not confined to the sky alone. The earth also is a fruitful theatre of transformations. The wolf was formerly a boy, who, being neglected by his parents, was transformed into this animal. A shell, lying on the shore, was transformed to the raccoon. The brains of an adulteress were converted into the addikumaig^ or white fish. The power of transformation was variously exercised. It most com- monly existed in magicians, of whom Abo, Manabosh or Manabozha, and Mishosha, retain much celebrity. The latter possessed a magic canoe which would rush forward through the water on the utterance of a charm, with a speed that would outstrip the wind. Hundreds of miles were performed in as many minutes. The charm which he uttered, consisted of a monosyllable, containing one consonant, which does not belong to the language ; and this word has no definable meaning. So that the language of magic and demonology has one feature in common in all ages and with everv nation. Man, in his common shape, is not alone the subject of their legends. The, intellectual creations of the Indians admit of the agency of giants and fairies. Anak and his progeny could not have created more alarm in the minds of the ten faithless spies, than do the race of fabulous VVeendigos to the Indian tribes. These giants are represented as canni- bals, who ate up men, women and children. Indian fairies are of two classes, distinguished as the place of their revels is either the land or water. Land-fairies are imagined to choose their residences about pro- montories, water-falls and solemn groves. The water, besides its appro- priate class of aquatic fairies, is supposed to be the residence of a race of beings called Nibanaba which have their analogy, except as to sex, in the mermaid. The Indian word indicates a male. Ghosts are the ordi- nary machinery in their tales of terror and mystery. There is, perhaps, a glimmering of the idea of retributive justice in the belief that ghosts and spirits are capable of existing in fire. \ INDIAN ARROW HEADS, &c. By far the most ni merous relics of the Red Race, now found in those parts of our country from which it has disappeared, are the small stoner with which they headed their arrows. Being made of the most durable substances, they have generally remained in the soil, unaffected by time and the changes of season. They most abound in those rich meadows which border some of our rivers, and in other spots of peculiar fertility, though of less extent, where the pasture, or other attractions, collected game for the Red men. The stones most commonly used were quartz and flint, which were preferred on account of the facility of shaping them, the keenness of the points and edges, which they readily present under the blows of a skilful manufacturer, as well as their superior hard- ness and imperishable nature. Multitudes of specimens still exist, which show the various forms and sizes to which the Red men reduced stones of these kinds : and they e::cite our admiration, by their perfect state of pre- servation, as well by the skilfulness of their manufacture. Other stones, however, were not unfrequently used : and a collection which we have been making for many years, presents a considerable variety of materials, as well as of sizes, shapes and colors. Hard sand- stone, trap or graacke, jasper and chalcedony, appear occasionally; some almost transparent. One of the larger size is made of steatite, and smooth, as if cut or scraped with a knife, contrary to the common method^ of gradually chipping off small fragments of more brittle stone, by i.y^ht blows often repeated. These arrow heads were fastened to the shaft, by inserting the butt into the split end, and tying round it a string of deer's sinews. A groove or depression is commonly observable in the stone, designed to receive the string. But it is sometimes difficult to imagine how the fastening was effected, as some perfect arrow-heads show no such depressions, and their forms are not well adapted to such a purpose. This peculiarity, however, is most frequently to be observed in specimens of small size, the larger, and especially such as are commonly supposed to have been the heads of spears, being usually well shaped for tying. It is remarkable that some spots have been found, where such relics were surprizingly numerous. In Hartford, Connecticut, about thirty years ago, many were picked up In a garden, at the corner of Front and Mill streets. The spot was indeed on the bank of the Little River, pro- bably at the head of Indian Canoe navigation : but yet no rational con- jecture could be formed, to account for the discovery, except one. It was con- cluded that the place was an ancient burying ground. Many bits of coarse earthen-ware were found, such as are common in many parts of the coun- try. About two ^iles below Middletown, Connecticut, on the slope of a 218 INDIAN ARKOW HEADS, ETC. 219 hill on the southern side of the Narrows, we discovered, some years since, a great number of small fragments of white quartz, scattered thickly over the surface of the ground, perhaps for half an acre. Among them were several arrowheads of various forms, most of them imperfect, and many pieces of stone, which at first sight resembled them, but, on closer inspec- tion, seemed to have been designed for arrow heads, but spoiled in the making. Some had one good edge, or a point or barb, while the other parts of the same stones showed only the natural form and fracture. In many in- stances, it was easy to see that the workman might well have been discour- aged from proceeding any farther, by a flaw, a break or the nature of the stone. Our conclusion was, that the spot had long been a place where Indian arrow heads were made, and that we saw around us the refuse fragments rejected by the workmen. Other spots have been heard of resembling this. If such relics were found nowhere else but in our own country, they would be curious, and worthy of preservation and attention : but it is an interesting fact, not however generally known, that they exist in many other parts of the world. Stone arrow and spear heads have been found in England for hundreds of years, and are believed to have been made and used by the Britons, who, in respect to civilization, were nearly on a level with our Indians. These relics are called by the common people Celts, from the race whose memory they recal ; and particular accounts of them are given, with drawings, in several antiquarian works. They bear a striking resemblance to our Indian arrow heads ; and many of them could be hardly, if at all, distinguished from those of America. African arrows have been brought to this country, in which the points were of the same forms and materials, and fastened in the same manner. About twelve years ago a vessel from Stonington was attacked by a party of Patagonians, who threw arrows on board. One of these which we procured, was pointed with a head of milky quartz, exactly corresponding with specimens picked up in New England. Among the relics found in excavating the low mounds on the plain of Marathon, as we were informed by one of our countrymen, who was at Athens some years ago, there were spear heads made of flint, which, he declared, were like those he had often seen ploughed up in his native fields. These, it was conjectured, might have been among the weapons of some of the rude Sc3rthians in the Persian army, which met its defeat on that celebrated battle ground. A negro, from an obscure group of islands, just north of New Guinea, in describing the weapons in use among his countrymen, drew the forms of spear heads, which he said were often made of stones ; and, when shown specimens from our collection, declared that they were very much like them. * It has been thought, that certain instruments would naturally be inven 'I ' I, ' b 220 INDIAN ARROW HEADS, ETC. ted by men in particular states of society and under certain circumstancei, as the result of their wants and the means at hand to supply them. It if not, however, always easy to reconcile this doctrine with fonts. For ex- ample, the black race of the islands north of New Holland, (of which so little is yet known,) appear to require the use of the bow as much as any other savage people, yet they are entirely ignorant of it, though it hai been thought one of the simple, most natural and most indispensable instruments in such a condition of society. We are therefore left in doubt, in the present state of our knowledge, whether the manufacture and use of stone arrow heads have been so ex- tensively diffused over the globe by repeated inventions, or by an inter- course between portions of the human race long since ceased, or by both causes. To whichever of these opinions we may incline, the subject must still appear to us worthy of investigation, as the history of these relics must necessarily be closely connected with that of different families and races of men in every continent and in every zone. We would invite particular attention to the position and circumstances of Indian remains which may hereafter be found ; and would express a wish that they might be recorded and made known. Our newspapers offer a most favorable vehicle for the communication of such discoveries and observations, and our editors generally must have taste and judgment enough to give rootn for them. It was remarked in some of our publications a few years ago, that no unequivocal remains of the Red men had yet been discovered in the earth, below the most recent strata of soil, excepting cases in which they had been buried in graves, &c. Perhaps later observations may furnish evi- dence of the longer presence of that race on our continent than such a statement countenances. One of the most interesting objects of enquiry, with some antiquaries, is whether there are any ancient indications of Alphabetical writing in our continent. A small stone found in the Grave-Creek Mound, and others of a more doubtful character, are quite sufHcient to awaken interest and stimulate enquiry. A few specimens of rude sculpture and drawing have been found in different parts or the U. States ; and shells, ornaments, &.c., evidently brought from great distances. There may be others, known to individu- als, of which antiquaries are not aware. After perusing the foregomg pages, It will be easy to realize that all such remains may be worthy of attention. Not only copies should be made and dimensions taken, but descriptions should be written, local information and traditions collected, measures taken to preserve the originals, and some notice given which may reach persons interested in such subjects. — E. INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POKTRY. No. I. The North American tribes have the elements of music and poetry. Their war songs frequently contain flights of tho finest heroic sentiment, clothed in poetic imagery. And numbers of the addresses of the speak- crs, both occasional and public, abound in eloquent and poetic thought " We would anticipate eloquence," observes a modern American writer, " from an Indian. He has animating remembrances — a poetry of lan- guage, which exacts rich and apposite metaphorical allusions, even for ordinary conversation — a mind which, like his body, has never been trammelled and mechanized by the formalities of society, and passions which, from the very outward restraint imposed upon them, burn more fiercely within." Yet, it will be found that the records of our litera- ture, scattered as they are, in periodicals and ephemeral publications, rather than in works of professed research, are meagre and barren, on these topics. One of the first things we hear of the Indians, after their discovery, is their proneness to singing and dancing. But however char- acteristic these traits may be, and we think they are eminently so, it has fallen to the lot of but few to put on record specimens, which may be ap- pealed to, as evidences of the current opinion, on these heads. With fa- vourable opnortunities of observation among the tribes, we have but to ada our testimony to tne difficulties of making collections in these depart- ments, which shall not compromit the intellectual chaiecter of the tribes, whose efforts are always oral, and very commonly extemporaneous. These difficulties arise from the want of suitable interpreters, the remote- ness of the points at which observations must be made, the heav demands made upon hours of leisure or business by such inquiries, and the incon- venience of making notes and detailed memoranda on the spot. The little that it is in our power to offer, will therefore be submitted as contri- butions to an inquiry which is quite in its infancy, and rather with the hope of exciting others to future labours, than of gratifying, to any extent, an enlightened curiosity on the subject. Dancing is Both an amusement and a religious observance, among the American Indians, and is known to constitute one of the most wide spread traits in their manners and customs. It is accompcniod, in all cases, with singing, and, omitting a few cases, with the beating of time on instru- ments. Tribes the most diverse in language, and situated at the greatest distances apart, concur in this. It is believed to be the ordinary mode of e.vpressing intense passion, or feeling on any subject, and it is a custom 221 222 INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. v/hicii 1ms been persevered in, with the least variation, through all the phases of their history, and probably exists among the remote tribes, pre- cisely at this time, as it dick in the era of Columbus. It is observed to be the last thing abandoned by bands and individuals, in their progress to civilization and Christianity. So true is this, that it may be regarded as one of the best practical proofs of their advance, to find the native in- struments and music thrown by, and the custom abandoned. Every one has heard of the war dance, the medicine dance, the wabeno dance, the dance of honour (generally called the begging dance,) and various others, each of which has its appropriate movements, its air, and its words. There is no feast, and no religious ceremony, among them, which is not attended with dancing and songs. Thanks are thus ex- pressed for success in hunting, for triumphs in war, and for ordinary providential cares. Public opinion is called to pressing objects by a dance, at which addresses are made, and in fact, moral instructions and advice are given to the young, in the course of their being assembled at social feasts and dances. Dancing is indeed the common resource, when- ever the mass of Indian mind is to be acted on. And it thus stands viewed in its necessary connection with the songs and addresses, in the room of the press, the newspaper, and the periodical. The priests and prophets have, more than any other class, cultivated their national songs and dances, and may be regarded as the skalds and poets of the tribes. They are generally the composers of the songs, and the leaders in the dance and ceremonies, and it is found, that their memories are the best stored, not only with the sacred songs and chants, but also with the tradi- tions, and general lore of the trib'^s. Dancing is thus interwoven throughout the whole texture of Indian so- ciety, so that thei'e is scarcely an event important or trivial, private or public, which is not connected, more or less intimately, with this rite. The instances where singing is adopted, without dancing, are nearly con- fined to occurrences of a domestic character. Among these, are wails for the dead, and love songs of a simple and plaintive character. Maternal affection evinces itself, by singing words, to a cheerful air, over the slum- bers of the child, which, being suspended in a kind of cradle receives, at the same time avibratory motion. Children have likewise certain chants, which they utter in the evenings, while playing around the lodge door, or at other seasons of youthful hilarity. Some of the Indian fables ai*e in the shape of duets, and the songs introduced in narrhting their ficti- tious tales, are always sung in the recital. Their instruments of music are few and simple. The only wind in- strument existing aniong them is the Pibbegwon, a kind of flute, resem- bling in simplicity the Arcadian pipe. It is commonly made of two semi- cylindrical pieces of cedar, united with fish glue, and having a snake skin, in a wet state, drawn tightly over it, to prevent its cracking. The holes 1 |l I! INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. 223 are eight in number, and are perforated by means of a bit of heated iron. It is blow n like the flagolet, and has a similar orifice or moutn piece. The Tayvva'egun, (struck-sound-instrument,) is a tamborine, or one- headed drum, and is made by adjusting a skin to one end of the section of a moderate sized hollow tree. When a heavier sound is required, a tree of larger circumference is chosen, and both ends closed with skins. The latter is called Mittigwukeek, i. e. Wood-Kettle-Drum, and is appro- priately used in religious ceremonies, but is not, perhaps, confined to this occasion. To these may be added a fourth instrument, called the Sheshegwon, or Rattle, which is constructed in various ways, according to the purpose or means of the maker. Sometimes it is made of animal bladder, from which the name is derived, sometimes of a wild gourd ; in others, by at- taching the dried hoofs of the deer to a stick. This instrument is em- ployed both to mark time, and to produce variety in sound. ORAL COMPOSITION. Common as the Indian songs are, it is found to be no ordinary acqui- sition to obtain accurate specimens of them. Even after the difficulties of the notation have been accomplished, it is not easy to satisfy the re- quisitions of a correct taste and judgment, in their exhibition. There is always a lingering fear of misapprehension, or misconception, on the part of the interpreter — or of some things being withheld by the never sleep- ing suspicion, or the superstitious fear of disclosure, on the part of the Indian. To these must be added, the idiomatic and imaginative peculiari- ties of this species of wild composition — so very different from every no- tion of English versification. In the first place there is no unity of theme, or plot, unless it be that the subject, war for instance, is kept in the singer's mind. In the next place both the narration and the description, when introduced, is very imperfect, broken, or disjointed. Prominent ideas flash out, and are dropped. These are often most striking and beauti- ful, but we wait in vain for any sequence. A brief allusion — a shinin g symbol, a burst of feeling or passion, a fine sentiment, or a bold assertion, come in as so many independent parts, and there is but little in the com- position to indicate the leading theme which is, as it were, kept in mental reserve, by the singer. Popular, or flivourite expressions are often re- peated, often transposed, and often exhibited with some new shade of meaning. The structure and flexibility of the language is highly favour- able to this kind of wild improvisation. But it is difficult to translate, and next to impossible to preserve its spirit. Two languages more unlike in all their leading characteristics, than the English and the Indian were never brought into contact. The one monosyllabic, and nearly without inflections — the other polysyllabic, polysynthetic and so full of inflections ■|.i;..,] 224 INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. of every imaginative kind, as to be completely transpositive — the one from the north of Europe, the other, probably, from Central Asia, it would seem that these families of the human race, had not wandered wider apart, in their location, than they have in the sounds of their language, the accidence of their grammar and the definition of their words. So that to find equivalent single words in translation, appears often as hope- less as the quadrature of the circle. The great store-house of Indian imagery is the heavens. The clouds, the planets, the sun, and moon, the phenomena of lightning, thunder, elec- tricity, aerial sounds, electric or atmospheric, and the endless variety pro- duced in the heavens by light and shade, and by elemental action, — these constitute the fruitful themes of allusion in their songs and poetic chants. But they are mere allusions, or broken description, like touches on the canvass, without being united to produce a perfect object. The strokes may be those of a master, and the colouring exquisite ; but without the art to draw, or the skill to connect, it will still remain but a shapeless mass In war excursions great attention is paid to the flight of birds, particularly those of the carnivorous species, which are deemed typical of war and bra- very, and their wing and tail feathers are appropriated as marks of honor, by the successful warrior. When the minds of a war party have been roused up to the subject, and they are prepared to give utterance to their feelings by singing and dancing, they are naturally led to appeal to the agency of this class of birds. Hence the frequent allusions to them, in their songs. The following stanza is made up of expressions brought into con- nection, from different fragments, but expresses no more than the native sentiments : The eagles scream on high, They whet their forked beaks, Raise — raise the battle cry, 'Tis fame our leader seeks. ■ • - Generally the expressions are of an exalted and poetic character, but the remark before made of their efllbrts in song, being discontinuous and abrupt, apply viih peculiar force to the war songs. To speak of a brave man — of a battle — or the scene of a battle, or of the hovering of birds of prey above it, appears suflicient to bring up to the warrior's mind, all the details consequent on personal bravery or heroic achievement. It would naturally be expected, that they should delight to dwell ou scenes of car- nage and blood : but however this may be, all such details are omit'.ed or suppressed in their war songs, which only excite ideas of noble daring. The birds of the brave take a flight rouad the sky, They cross the enemy's line, Full happy am I — that my body should fall, Where brave men love to die. Very ments, ' form, ai The grave ii note, tuation manent but, alv startling dian m a subje( act in n observa is it les! are ext remark in their served, sung, body oi perhaps not obv this he ruses ai ities to out, ari chants \ larly. have fo ion, or system sic in a native i remark of the degree, Indian more s minds i evident that th have si effected INDIAN MUSIC, SOI^GS, AND POETRT. 225 Very little effort in the collocation and expansion of some of their senti- ments, would impart to these bold and unfettered raphsodies, an attractive form, among polished war songs. The strain in which these measures are sung, is generally slow and grave in its commencement and progress, and terminates in the highest note. While the words admit of change, and are marked by all the fluc- tuation of extempore composition, the air and the chorus appear to be per- manent, consisting not only of a graduated succession of fixed sounds, but, always exact in their enunciation, their quantity, and their wild and startling musical expression. It has always appeared to me that the In- dian music is marked by a nationality, above many other traits, and it is a subject inviting future attention. It is certain that the Indian ear is ex- act in noting musical sounds, and in marking and beating time. But little observation at their dances, will be sufficient to establish this fact. Nor is it less certain, by attention to the philology of their language, that they are exact in their laws of euphony, and syllabical quantity. How this remark may consist with the use of unmeasured and fluctuating poetry in their songs, it may require studied attention to answer. It is to be ob- served, however, that these songs are rather recited, or chanted, than sung. Increments of the chorus are not unfrequently interspersed, in the body of the line, which would otherwise appear deficient in quantity ; and perhaps rules of metre may be found, by subsequent research, which are not obvious, or have been concealed by the scantiness of the materials, on this head, which have been examined. To determine the airs and cho- ruses and the character of the music, will prove one of the greatest facil- ities to this inquiry. Most of the graver pieces, which have been written out, are arranged in metres of sixes, sevens, and eights. The lighter chants are m threes or fours, and consist of iambics and trochees irregu- larly. Those who have translated hymns into the various languages, have followed the English metres, not always without the necessity of elis- ion, or employing constrained or crampt modes of expression. A worse system could not have been adopted to show Indian sentiment. The mu- sic in all these cases has been like fetters to the free, wild thoughts of the native singer. As a general criticism upon these translations, it may be remarked that they are often far from being literal, and often omit parts of the original. On the other hand, by throwing away adjectives, in a great degree, and dropping all incidental or side thoughts, and confining the Indian to the leading thought or sentiment, they are, sometimes, rendered more simple, appropriate, and effective. Finally, whatever cultivated minds among the Indians, or their descendants may have done, it is quite evident to me, from the attention I have been able to give the subject, that the native compositions were without metre. The natives appear to have sung a sufficient number of syllables to comply with the air, and eflfected the necessary pauses, for sense or sound, by either slurring over, IS I I >,i 226 INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. and thus shortening, or by throwing in floating particles of the language, to eke out the quantity, taken either from the chorus, or from the general auxiliary forms of the vocabulary. Rhyme is permitted by the similarity of the sourds from which the vo- cabulary is formed, but the structure of the language does not appear to admit of its being successfully developed in this manner. Its forms are too cumbrous for regularly recurring expressions, subjected at once to the laws of metre and rhyme. The instances of rhyme that have been ob- served in the native songs are few, and appear to be the result of the for- tuitous positions of words, rather than of art. The following juvenile see-saw is one of the most perfect specimens noticed, being exact in both particulars : Ne osh im aun Ne way be naun. These are expressions uttered on sliding a carved stick down snow banks, or over a glazed surface of ice, in the appropriate season ; and they may be rendered with nearly literal exactness, thus : My sliding stick 1 send quick — quick. Not less accurate in the rhyme, but at lines of six and eight feet, whic!i might perhaps be exhibited unbroken, is the following couplet of a war •ong: Au pit she Mon e t6g Ne mud wa wa wau we ne g6g. The Spirit on high, Repeats my warlike name. In the translation of hymns, made during the modern period of mis- sionary effort, there has been no general attempt to secure rhyme ; and as these translations are generally due to educated natives, under the inspec- tion and with the critical aid of the missionary, they have evinced a true conception of the genius of the language, by the omission of this acci- dent. Eliot, who translated the psalms of David into the Massachusetts language, which were first printed in 1661, appears to have deemed it im- portant enough to aim at its attainment : but an examination of the work, now before us, gives but little encouragement to others to follow his ex- ample, at least while the languages remain in their present rude and un- cultivated state. The following is the XXIII Psalm from this version : 1. Mar teag nukquenaabikoo shepse nanaauk God. Nussepsinwahik ashkoshqut nuttinuk ohtopagod INDIAN MU8IC, SONGS, AND POETRY. 227 3. Nagum nukketeahog kounoh wutomohkinuh wonk NutuM oounuk ut sampoi may newutch oowesnonk. 3. Wutonkauhtamut pomushaon muppooonk oonauhkoe Woskehettuonk mo nukqueh tamoo newutch koowetomah: 4. Kuppogkomunk kutanwohon nish noonenehikquog Koonochoo hkah anquabhetUt wame nummatwomog 6. Kussussequnum nuppuhkuk weetepummee nashpea Wonk woi God nootallamwaitch pomponetupohs hau 6. QOniyeuonk monaneteonk nutasukkonkqunash Tohsohke pomantam wekit God michem nuttain pish *. This appears to have been rendered from the version of the psahns ap- pended to an old edition of King James' Bible of 1611, and not from the versification of Watts. By comparing it with this, as exhibited below, there will be found the same metre, eights and sixes, the same syllabical quantity, (if the notation be rightly conceived,) and the same coincidence of rhyme at the second and fourth lines of each verse ; although it re* quired an additional verse to express the entire psalm. It could therefore be sung to the ordinary tunes in use in Eliot's time, and, taken in con- nection with his entire version, including the Old and New Testament, evinces a degree of patient assiduity on the part of that eminent mission* ary, which is truly astonishing : The Lord is my shepherd, I'll not want ; 2. He makes me down to lie In past^'.res green : he leadeth me the quiet waters by. 3. My soul he doth restore aga.p and me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness E'en for his own name's sake. Eliot employed the figure 8, set horizontally, to express a peculiar Bound . otherwa* he used the English alphabet in itiT ordinary powers. ■H 2^ .NDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND POETRY. 4. Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, yet will I fear none ill ; For thou art with me and thy rod and staff me comfort still. 5. My table thou hast furnished ' in presence of my foes ; My head thou dost with oil annoint, and ray cup overflows. 6. Goodness and mercy all my life shall surely follow me ; And in God's house forevermore my dwelling plage shall be. The harmony of numbers has always detracted from the plain sense, and the piety of thought, of the scriptures, which is the probable cause of so many failures on the subject. In the instance of this Psalm, it will be observed, by a comparison, that Watts, who has so generally succeeded, does not come up, in any respect, to the full literal meaning of the origi- nal, which is well preserved, with the requisite harmony, in the old ver< sion. There is one species of oral composition existing among all the tribes^ which, from its peculiarities, deserves to be separately mentioned. I al- lude to the hieratic chants, choruses and incantations of their professed prophets, medicine men and jugglers— constituting, as these men do, a dis- tinct order in Indian society, v;ho are entitled by their supposed skill, wis* dom or sanctity, to exercise the offices of a priesthood. Affecting mys- tery in the discharge of their functions, their songs and choruses ar» couched in language which is studiously obscure, oftentimes cabalistic, and generally not well understood by any but professed initiates. Nothing, however, in this department of my inquiries, has opened a more pleasing view of society, exposed to the bitter vicissitudes of Indian life, than the little domestic chants of mothers, and the poetic see-saws of childreni of which specimens are furnished. These show the universal- ity of the sentiments of natural aflfection, and supply another proof, were any wanting, to demonstrate that it is only ignorance, indolence and pov- erty, that sink the human character, and create the leading distinctions among the races of men. Were these affections cultivated, and children early taught the principles of virtue and rectitude, and the maxims of in- dustry, order and cleanliness, there is no doubt that the mass of Indian society would be meliorated in a comparatively short period ; and by a continuance of eflforts soon exalted from that state of degradation, of which the want of letters and religion have been the principal causes. In presenting these specimens of songs, gathered among the recesses of the forest, it is hoped it will not be overlooked, by the reader, that they INDIAN MUSIC, SONGS, AND TOETRT. 229 are submitted as facts or materials, in the mental condition of the tribes, and not as evidences of attainment in the arts of metre and melody, which will bear to be admitted or even criticised by the side of the refined poetry of civilized nations. And above all, not as efforts to turn Indian senti- ments to account, in original composition. No such idea is entertained. If materials be supplied from which some judgment maybe formed of the actual state of these songs and rude oral compositions, or improvisations, the extent of the object will have been attained. But even here, there is less, with the exception of a single department, i. e. versification and com position by cultivated natives, than it was hoped to furnish. And this little, has been the result of a species of labour, in the collection, quite dis- proportionate to the resuh. It is hoped at least, that it may indicate the mode in which such collections may be made, among the tribes, and be- come the means of eliciting materials more worthy of attention. This much seemed necessary to be said in introducing the following specimens, that there might not appear, to the reader, to be an undue esti- mate placed on the literary value of these contributions, and translations, while the main object is, to exhibit them in the series, as illustrations of the mental peculiarities of the tribes. To dismiss them, however, with a bare, frigid word for word translation, such as is required for the pur- poses of philological comparison, would by no means do justice to them, nor convey, in any tolerable degree, the actual sentiments in the minds of the Indians. That the opposite error might not, at the same time, be run into, and the reader be deprived altogether of this means of comparison, a number of the pieces are left with literal prose translations, word for word as near as the two languages will permit. Others exhibit both a literal, and a versified translation. All the North American Indians know that there is a God ; but their priests teach them that the devil is a God, and as he is believed to be very malignant, it is the great object of their ceremonies and sacrifices, to appease him. The Indians formerly worshipped the Sun, as the symbol of divine intelligence. Fire is an unexplained mysterylo the Indian ; he regards it as a con- necting link between the natural and spiritual world. His traditionary lore denotes this. Zoroaster says : " When you behold secret fire, without form, shining flashingly through the depths of the whole world — ^hear the voice of fire." One might suppose this t^ have been uttered by a North Ameri- can Indian. lit •*'l.:;', m'^' CHANT TO THE FIRE-FLY. In the hot summer evenings, the children of the Chippewa Algon- quins, along the shores of the upper lakes, and in the northern latitudes, frequently assemble before their parents' lodges, and amuse themselves by little chants of various kinds, with shouts and wild dancing. Attracted by such shouts of merriment and gambols, I walked out one evening, to a green lawn skirting the edge of the St. Mary's river, with the fall in full view, to get hold of the meaning of some of these chants. The air and the plain wore literally sparkling with the phosphorescent light of the fire-fly. By dint of attention, repeated on one or two occasions, the fol- lowing succession of words was caught. They were addressed to this insect: Wau wau tay see I Wau wau tay see 1 £ mow e shin Tshe bwau ne baun-e wee I Be eghaun — be eghaun— ewee I Wa Wau tay see I Wa wau tay see I Was sa koon ain je gun Was sa koon ain je gun. LITERAL TRANSLATION. Flittmg-white-fire-insect I waving-white-fire-bug I give me light before I go to bed I give me light before I go to sleep. Come, little dancing *• white-fire-bug ! Come little flitting-white-fire-beast I Light me with youi bright white-flame-instrument — your little candle t- Metre there was ncr>e, at least, of a regular character : they were the wild improvisations of children in a merry mood. • In giving the particle wa, the various meanings of " flitting," " waving," and " dancing," the In^an idiom is fully preserved. The final particle se6, in the term wa wa tai see, is from the generic root aaee, meaning a living creature, or created form, not man. By prefixing Ahw to the root, we have the whole class of quadrupeds, and by pen, the whole class of birds, &c. The Odjibwa Algonquin term for a candle, was sa koon ain je gun, is literally rendered from its elements — " bright— wliite — flamed — instrument." It is by the very concrete character of these compounds that so much meaning results from a few words, and so considerable a latitude in tranilation ia given to Indian words generally. [+ Fire-fly, fire-fly ! bright little thing, liight me to bed, and myilbng I will sbg. Give me your light, as you fly o'er my head, That I may merrily go to my bed. Give me your light o'er the grass as you creep, That I may joyfully go to my sleep. Come little fire-fly — come little beast — Come .' and I'll make you to-morrow a feast. Come little candle that flies as I sing, Bright little fairy -bug — night's little king ; Come, and I'll danca as you guide me along. Come, uiid I'll pay you, my bug, with a song.] 230 ETHNOLOGY. SCHOOLCRAFT'S AMERICAN CYCLOPAEDIA, OR ETHNOLOGICAL GAZETTEER OF THE INDIAN TRIBES OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT, NORTH AND SOUTH, COMPRISING THEIR HISTORY, GEOGRAPHY, AND NOMENCLATURE, FROM THE DISCOVERY IN 1492, TO THE PRESENT PERIOD. ADVERTISEMENT. A PROSPECTUS for this work was issued in 1842. While the title is slightly modiBed, the design and plan of its execution have not been essentially changed. The principal object aimed at, under the general idea of the history and geography of the Aboriginal Race, is to furnish a general and standard reference-book, or short encyclopaedia of topics rela- tive to the entire race, alphabetically arranged. By the insertion of the name of each family of tribes, nation, sub-tribe, or important clan, the occasion will be presented of noticing the leading or characteristic events, in their history, numbers, government, religion, languages, arts or distinc- tive character. * Where the .scene or era of their expansion, growth and decay has been so extensive, embracing as it does, the widest bounds and remotest periods, their antiquities have also called for a passing notice. Nor could any thing like a satisfactory accomplishment of the plan be effected, without succinct notices of the lives and achievements of their principal chiefs, rulers, and leading personages. Language is an important means of denoting the intricate thread of history in savage nations. Mr. Pritchard considers it more important than physiological structure and peculiarities. It is, at least, found often to reveal ethnological affinities, where both the physical type, and the light of tradition, afford but little aid. The words and names of a people, are so many clues to their thoughts and intellectual structure ; this branch of the subject, indeed, formed the original germ of the present plan, which was at first simply geographical, and has been rather expanded and built upon, than, if we may so say, supplied the garniture of the edifice. In a class of transpositive languages, wh^ch are very rich in their combinations, and modes of concentrated description, it must needs happen, that the names of places would oflen recall both associations and descriptions of deep 231 jit. I : i S32 ETHNOLOGY. interest in contemplating the fate and fortunes of this unfortunate ruce. Without intruding upon the reader disquisitions which would be out of place, no opportunity has been omitted, from the consideration of their names, to throw around the sites of their former or present residence, this species of interest. But half the work would have been done, it is conceived, to have con- fined the work to North America ; and it must necessarily have lost, by such a limitation, more than half its interest. We are just beginning in truth to comprehend the true character and bearing of that unique type of civilization which existed in Mexico, Peru, and Yucatan. The rude hand with which these embryo kingdoms of the native race wee overturned, in consequence of their horrid idolatries, necessarily led to the destruction of much of their monumental, and so far as their picture writing reached, some of their historical materials, of both of which, we now feel the want. It is some relief, to know, as the researches of Mr. Gallatin, which arc now in progress, demonstrate, that by far the greatest amount of the ancient Mexican picture writings, as they are embraced in the elaborate work of Lord Kingsborough, relate to their mythology and superstitions, and are of no historical value whatever. And if the portions destroyed in the Mexican and Peruvian conquests, were as liberally inter- spersed with similar evidences of their wild polytheism, shocking man- ners, and degraded worship, neither chronology nor history have so much to lament. The early, strong and continued exertions which were made by the conquerors to replace this system of gross superstition and idolatry, by the Romish ritual, filled Mexico and South i^merica with missiunr of the Catholic Church, which were generally under the charge of zealous^ and sometimes of learned and liberal-spirited superintendants, who hav6 accumulated facts respecting the character and former condition of the race. These missions, which were generally spread parallel to the sea coasts of the Atlantic and Pacific, reaching inland along the banks of tha great rivers and plains, have confessedly done much to ameliorate the manners and condition of the native race, to foster a spirit of industiy, anit to enlighten their minds. Still, it is scarcely known, that numerous and powerful tribes, stretching through wide districts of the Andes and the Cordilleras, never submitted to the conqueror, and yet exist in their origi- nal state of barbarism. In this department of inquiry, the geographical and historical work of De Alcedo, which, so far as the Spanish and Portuguese missions are concerned, is both elaborate and complete in its details, has been taken as a basis. No one can wril«? of South America and its native tribes, without reference to Humboldt. Oiher standard writers have been consulted, to give this part of the work as, much value as possible, not excepting the latest voyages and travels. TLe design has been, without aiming at too ETHNOLOGY. S33 much, to compress a body of leading and characteristic facts, in the shortest practicable compass, which should, at the same time, present an ethnologi- cal view of the various families and groups of the race. In each department of inquiry, which admitted of it, the author has availed himself of such sources and opportunities of personal observation and experience, as his long residence in the Indian territori >8, and his study of the Indian history have afTorded. And he is not without the hope, that his inquiries and researches on this head may be found to be such as to merit approval. A. Ab, oi\en pronounced with the sound of we, before it, — a particle which, in geographical names, in the family of the Algonquin dialects, denote* light, or the east. It is also the radix of the verb wab, to see, as well as of the derivatives, a-ab, an eye-ball, and wabishka, a white substance, &c., — ideas which either in their origin or application, are closely allied. Abacaris, a settlement of Indians in the Portuguese possessions of the province of Amazon. These people derive their name from a lake, upon which they reside. It is a peculiarity of this lake, that it has its outlet into the river Madiera which, after flowing out of the province turns about and again enters it, forming, in this involution, the large and fertile island of Topanambes. This tribe is under the instruction of the Carmelites. They retain many of their early peculiarities of manners and modes of of life. They subsist by the cuhivation of maize, and by taking fish in the waters of the Abacaris ; or Abacactes in addition to these means, they rely upon tropical fruits. The latest notices of them come down to 1789. But little is known of their numbers, or present condition. Abaches, or Apaches, an erratic tribe of Indians, who infest the prairies of western Texas and New Mexico. They are supposed by some, to con- sist of not less than 15,000 souls. They are divided into petty bands, known under various names. They are the most vagrant of all the wild hunter tribes of the general area denoted. They do not live in fixed abodes, but shift about in search of game or plunder, and are deemed a pest by the Santa Fe traders. They raise nothing and manufacture nothing. Those of them who are east of the Rio del Norte, subsist on the baked root of the mauguey, and a similar plant called Mezcal, and hence they are called Mezcaleros. Another division of them, and by far the greatest, rove west of that stream, where they are called Goyoteros, from their habit of eating the coyote, or prairie wolf. They extend west into California and Sonora. They bear a bad charactei wherever they are known. If on the outskirts ill wm S34 ETHNOLOGY. of the ranchos and haciendas, they steal cattle and sheep. If on the wide and destitute plains which they traverse, they thieve and murder. Some- times they are pursued and punished ; more frequently, they escape. The Mexican authorities keep some sort of terms with them by treaties, which the vagrants, however, break and disregard, whenever they are excited by hunger, or the lust of plunder. For Indians bearing the name, formerly from the U. States, see Apaches. Abaco, one of the Bahama islands. The native inhabitants of this, and the adjacent groupes of islands, were, early after the discovery, transported to the main, to work in the mines. In 1788 this island, known to nautical men as the locality of the Hole in the Wall, had a population of 50 whites, and 200 Africans. Abacooche, or Coosa, a stream rising in Georgia. It flows into Alabama, and after uniting with the Tallapoosa, a few miles below We- tumpka it forms the Alabama river. The word is, apparently, derived from Os'.ooche, one of the four bands into which the Muscogees, were anciently divided. Abanakee, or Eastlanders, a distinct people, consisting of a plurality of tribes, who forme^^'y occupied the extreme north eastern part of the United States. The word is variously written by early writers. See Abenakies, Abernaquis, Wabunakies. Abancay, the capital of a province of the same name 20 leagues from Cuzco, in Peru. It is memorable for the victories gained in the vicinity by the king's troops in 1542 and 1548 against Gonzalo Pizarro. It lies in a rich and spacious valley, which was inhabited by the subjects of the Inca, on the conquest. Abasca, or Rabasca, a popular corruption, in the northwest, of Atha- basca, which see. Abanes, an unreclaimed nation of Indians, living in the plains of St Juan, to the north of the Orinoco, in New Grenada. They are of a docile character, and good disposition, lending a ready ear to instruction, but have not embraced the Catholic religion. They inhabit the wooded shores of the river, and shelter themselves from the effects of a tropical sun, in the open plains, by erecting their habitations in the small copse-wood. They are bounded towards the west, by the Andaquies and Caberras, and east by the Salivas. Abangoui, a large settlement of the Guaxani nation of Indians, on the shores of the river Taquani, in Paragiiay. This stream and its inhabi- tants were discovered by A. Numez, in 1541. Abecoochi, see Abacooche. Abeicas, an ancient name for a tribe of Indians, in the present erea of the United States, who are placed in the earlier geographies, south of the Alabamas and west of the Cherokees. They dwelt at a distance from the large rivers, yet were located in the districts of the cane, out of the hard 8Ut prini quoi ETHNOLOGY. 235 substance of which they made a kind of knife, capable of answering the principal purposes of this instrument. They were at emnity with the Iro* quois. Abenakies, a nation formerly inhabiting a large part of the territorial area of the states of New Hampshire and Maine. There were several tribes, of this nation the principal of which were the Pcnob^ots, the Nor- redgewocks, and the Ameriscoggins. They were at perpetual hostilities with the New England colonists. They had received missionaries, at an early day, from the French in Canada, and acted in close concert with the hostile Indians from that quarter. At length in 1724, the government of Massachussetts organized an effective expedition against them, which ascended the Kennebec, attacked the chief town of the Norredgewocks, and killed a large number of their bravest warriors. Among the slain, was found their missionary Sebastian Rasle, who had taken up arms in their defence. There was found, among his papers, a copious vocabulary of the language, which has recently been published under the supervision of Mr. Pickering. In the year 1754, all the Abenakies, except the Penob- scots, removed into Canada. This nation had directed their attention, al- most exclusively, to hunting. At the mouth of the Kennebec they absolute- ly planted nothing. Their lauguage, as observed by Mr. Gallatin, has strong affinities with those of the Etchemins, and of the Micmacs, of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia ; there are fewer resemblances in its vocabu- lary to the dialects south of them. This nation appears to have beea called Tarrenteens, by the New England Indians. Their generic name for themselves, if they had one, is unknown. The term Abenakie, is one manifestly imposed by Algonquin tribes living west and south of them. It is derived from wabanung, the east, or a place of light, and akee, land. Abekas, a name applied, so late as 1750, to a band of the Muscogees, living on the river Tombigbee, within the present area of Alabama. Abernaquis, a settlement of the expatriated Abenakies of New Eng- land, in Lower Canada. They subsist themselves at this time in a great measure by agriculture, and manifest a disposition to improve. From a report made in 1839 by the American Board of Foreign missions of Bos- ton who employ a missionary and teacher among them, sixty persons attend Protestant worship, of which number, 24 are church members. Twenty of the youth attend a daily school. Abioiras, an Indian mission formerly under the charge of the order of Jesuits, in the governmental department of Cluito. It is situated on the river Curasari, 30 leagues from its mouth, and 240 from Cluito. It was founded in 1665 by father Lorenzo Lucero. Abingas, or Wabingas, a name for a band, or sub-tribe of the River Indians, of the Mohegan, or Mohekinder stock, who formerly inhabited the present area of Dutchess county, N. Y., and some adjacent parts of the eastern shores of the Hudson, above the Highlands. ii 236 ETHNOLOGY. Abifones, an unreclaimed nation of Indians, who inhabit the south shores of the river Bermejo, in the province of Tucuman, Buenos Ayres. This nation is said, perhaps vaguely, to have formerly numbered 100,000 souls, but was, at the last accounts, about A.D. 1800, much reduced. They present some peculiar traits, living as nearly in a state of nature as possible. The men go entirely naked, subsisting themselves by hunting and fishing, and passing much of their time in idleness or war. The wo- men wear little ornamented skins called queyapi. Physically, the people are well formed, of a lofty stature and bearin. nt buildings." Acc6cESAWS, a tribe of Indians of erratic habits, of Texas, whose prin- cipal location was formerly on the west side of the Colorado, about 200 miles S. W. of Nacogdoches. At a remoter period they lived near the gulf of Mexico : they made great use of fish, and oysters. Authors represent the country occupied, or traversed by them, as exceedingly fertile and beautiful, and abounding in deer of the finest and largest kind. Their language is said to be peculiar to themselves ; they are expert in communicating ideas by the system of signs. About A. D. 1750 the Spanish had a mission among them, but removed it to Nacogdoches. • AccoMAC, a county of Virginia, lying on the eastern shores of Chesa- peak bay. This part of the sea coast was inhabited by the Nanticokes, who have left their names in its geography. We have but a partial vo- cabulary of this tribe, which is now extinct. It has strong analogies, however, to other Algonquin dialects. Aco, in these dialects, is a generic term, to denote a goal, limit, or fixed boundary. Ahkee, in the Nanticoke, is the term for earth, or land. Auk, is a term, in compound words of these dialects, denoting wood. The meaning of accomac, appears to be as far as the tooods reack, or, the boundary between meadow and wood- lands. AccoMACs, one of the sub tribes inhabiting the boundaries of Virginia on its discovery and first settlement. Mr. Jeflferson states their numbers in 1607 at 80. In 1669, when the legislature of Virginia directed a cen- sus of the Indian population, within her jurisdiction, there appears no no- tice of this tribe. They inhabited the area of Northampton county. They were Nanticokes — a people whose remains united themselves or at least took shelter with the Lenapees, or Delawares. AccoHANocs, a division or tribe of the Powhetanic Indians, numbermg 40, in 1607. They lived on the Accohanoc river, in eastern Virginia. 16 ll Hi 242 ETMNOLOOT. Act'oMKNTAS, a Dand, or division of the Pawtuckct Indians inhabitmj? the northerly part of Massachusetts, in 1674. (Gookin.) AcHAGUA, a nation of Indians of Now Grenada, dwelling in the plainr of Gazanare and Meta, and ir. the woods of the river Ele. They are bold and dexterous hunters with the dart and spear, and i. heir contests with their enemies, they poison their weapons. They are fond of horses, and rub their bodies with oil, to make their hair shine. They go naked except a small azeaun made of the fibres of the aloe. They anoint their children with a bituminous ointment at their birth, to prevent the gro- :h of hair. The brows of females are also deprived of hair id immediately rubbed with the juice ofjaguaj which renders them bald ever after. They are of a gentle disposition but addicted to intoxication. The Jesuits for- merly reduced many of them to the Catholic faith, and formed them into settlements in 1661. AcHAFALAYA, the principal western outlet of the Mississippi river. It is a Choctaw word, meaning, " the long river," from hncha, river, and falat/a, long. (Gallatin.) AcKowAYS, a synonym for a band of Indians of New France, now Canada. See Acouez. AcKEEKSEEBE, a remote northern tributary of the stream called Rum river, which enters the Mississippi, some few miles above the falls of St. Anthony, on its left banks. It is a compound phrase, from Akeek, a kettle, and seebe, a stream. It was on the margin of this stream, in a wide and spacious area, interspersed with beaver ponds, that a detachment of Gen. Cass's exploring party in July 1820, enc iped j and the next morning discovered an Indian pictorial letter, wr. i on bark, detailing the incidents of the march. AcKEEKo, or the Kettle chief, a leading Sauc chief Avho exercised his authority in 1820, at an important Indian village, situated on the right banks of the Mississippi, at Dubuque's mines. AcHQUANCHicoLA, the name of a creek in Pennsylvania ; it signifies in the Delaware or Lenapee language, as given by Heckewelder, the brush- net fishing creek. AoHWicK, a small stream in central Pennsylvania. It denotes in the Delaware language, according to Heckewelder, brushy, or difficult to pass. AcoBAMBA, a settlement in the province of Angaraes in Peru, near which are some monumental remains of the ancient race, who inhabited the country prior to its conquest by the Spanish. They consist, chiefTy, of a pyramid of stones, and the ruins of some well sculptured stone couches, cr benches, now much injured by time. AcoLMAN, San Augustin de, a settlement of 240 families of Indians of Tezcoco in Mexico. It is situated in a pleasant valley, with a benign tenv peraiure, and has a convent o( Augustine monks. ETHNOLOGY. 243 AcoMES, a fall in the river Amariscoggin, Maine, denoting, in the Indian, •8 is supposed, a rest, or place of stopping. From aco, a bound or point AroMULoo, a village of 12 Indian families in Zochicoatlan, New Spain, two leagues W. of its capital. AcoNicHi, the name of a settlement of Indians formerly living on the river Fno, in North Carolina. AcoTiTLAN, a settlement of 15 Indian families, in the alcaldia oi Authn, Mexico. They employ themselves in raising cattle, making sugar and honey, and extracting oil from the cacao fruit. AcouEz, a name formerly applied by the French to a band of Indians in New France. Believed to be identical with Ackoways. AcQUACKiNAC, or AcQUACKiNUNK, the Indian name of a town on the W. side of the Passaic river. New Jersey, ten miles N. of Newark and 17 from New York. From aco, a limit, misquak, a red cedar, and auk, a stump or trunk of a tree. AcQaiNosHioNEE, Or United People, the vernacular name of the Iroquois for their confederacy. It appears, from their traditions, communicated to the Rev. Mr. Pyrlaus, a Dutch missionary of early date, that this term had not been in use above 50 years prior to the first settlement of the country : and if so, we have a late date, not more remote than 1559 for the origin of this celebrated union. But this may be doubted. Cartier discovered the St. Lawrence in 1534, and found them at the site of Montreal ; Verri- zani, is said to have entered the bay of New York ten years before. Hud- son ftntered the river in 1609. Jamestown was founded the year before. The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth 14 years later. It is more probable that the 50 years should be taken from the period of the earlier attempts of the )^ rench settlements, which would place the origin of the confederacy about A. D. 1500. (See Iroquois.) AcTOPAN, or OcTTjpAN, a town and settlement of the Othomies Indians, situated 23 leagues N. N. E. of Mexico. Its population is put by Alcedo in 1787, at 2750 families. These are divided into two parties, separated by the church. It also contains 50 families of Spaniards, Mustees, and Mulatoes. The temperature is mild, but the ground is infested with the cactus, thorns and teasel, which leads the inhabitants to devote their atten-' tion to the raising of sheep and goats. In this vicinity are found numbers of the singular bird, called zenzontla by the Mexican Indians. AcTUPAN, a settlement of 210 families of Indians in the district of Xoci- milco, Mexico. AcuiAPAN, a settlement of 58 Indian families, in the alcaldia mayor of Zultepec, annexed to the curacy of Temascaltepec. They live by dress- bg hides for the market — ib. AcuiLPA, a settlement of 92 Indian families, in the magistracy of Tlapa, Mexico. It is of a hot and moist temperature, yielding grain, and the white medicinal earth called chia^ in which they carry on a trade. 344 ETHNOLOGY. Acvio, a considerable settlement of Spaniards, Mustees, Mulntoes, and Negroes, 30 leagues W. of Cinaqua, in the curacy of Tauricato, Mexico ; embracing 9 Indian families. AcuLA, San Pedro de, an Indian settlement of 305 families, four leagues E. of Cozamaloapan, its capital. It is situated on a high hill, bounded by a large lake of the most salubrious water, called Pcutla by the natives. This lake has its outlet into the sea through the sand banks of » Alvarado, and the lake is subject to overflow its banks in the winter season. AcuTiTLAN, an Indian settlement of 45 families, in the district of Tepuxilco, Mexico, who trade in sugar, honey, and maize. It is five leagues N. E. of Zultepec, and a quarter of a league from Acamuchitlan. AcuTzio, an Indian settlement of Tiripitio, in the magistracy of Valla- dolid, and bishopric of Mechoacan, Mexico. It contains 136 Indian families, and 1 1 families of Spaniards and Mustees. Six cultivated estates in this district, producing wheat, maize, and other grains, employ most of this population, who also devote part of their labour to the care of large and small cattle. Adaes, or Adaize, a tribe of Indians, who formerly lived forty miles south west from Natchitoches, in the area of country, which now consti- tutes a part of the republic of Texas. They were located on a lake, which communicates with the branch of Red-river passing Bayou Pierre. This tribe appears to have lived at that spot, from an early period. Their language is stated to be difficult of acquisition, and difllerent from all others, in their vicinity. They were at variance with the ancient Natchez, and joined the French in their assault upon them in 179S. They were intimate with the Caddoes, and spoke their language. At the last dates, (1812) they were reduced to twenty men, with a disproportionate number of women. The synonyms for this now extinct tribe are, Adayes ; Adees ; Adaes; Adaize. Adakio, a celebrated chief of the Wyandot nation, who was at the height of his usefulness and reputation, about 1690. He was able in the councils of his tribe, shrewd and wily in his plans, and firm and courage- ous in their execution. The Wyartdots, or Hurons as they are called by the French, were then living at Michilimackinac, to which quarter they had been driven by well known events in their history. The feud be- tween them and their kindred, the Iroquois, still raged. They remained the firm allies of the French ; but they were living in a state of expatri- ation from their own coimtry, and dependant on the friendship and cour- tesy of the Algonquins of the upper lakes, among whom they had found a refuge. Adario, at this period, found an opportunity of making him- self felt, and striking a blow for the eventual return of his nation. To understand his position, a few allusions to the history of the period are necessary. In 1687, the English of the province of New- York, resolved to avail ETHNOLOGY. 245 themselvca of a recent alliance between the two crowns, to attempt a par* ticipation in the fur trade of the upper lakes. They persuaded the Iro- quois to set free a number of Wyandot captives to guide them through the lakes, and open an intercourse with their people. Owing to the high price and scarcity of goods, this plan was favored by Adario and his peo- ple, and also by the Ottowas and Pottowattomis, but the enterprise failed. Major McGregory, who led the party, was intercepted by a large body of French from Mackinac, the whole party captured and their goods were distributed gratuitously to the Indians. The lake Indians, who had, co« vertly countenanced this attempt, were thrown back entirely on the French trade, and subjected to suspicions which made them uneasy in their coun- cils, and anxious to do away with the suspicions entertained of their fidel- ity by the French. To this end Adario marched a party of 100 men from Mackinac against the Iroquois. Stopping at fort Cadarackui to get some intelligence which might guide him, the commandant informed him that the governor of Canada, Denonville, was in hopes of concluding a peace with the Five Nations, and expected their ambassadors at Montreal in a few days. He therefore advised the chief to return. Did such a peace take olace, Adario perceived that it would leave the Iroquois to push the war against his nation, which had already been driven from the banks of the St. Lawrence to lake Huron. He dissembled his fears, however, be- fore the commandant, and left the fort, not for the purpose of returning home, but to waylay the Iroquois delegates, at a portage on the river where he knew they must pass. He did not wait over four or five days, when the deputies arrived, guarded by 40 young warriors, who were all sur- prised, and either killed or taken prisoners. His next object was to shift the blame of the act on the governor of Canada, by whom he told his pri- soners, he had been informed of their intention to pass this way, and he was thus prepared to lie in wait for them. They were much surprised at this apparent act of perfidy, informing him at the same time, that they were truly and indeed on a message of peace. Adario affected to grow mud with rage against Denonville, declaring that he would some time be revenged on him for making him a tool, in committing so horrid a trea- chery. Then looking steadfastly on the prisoners, among whom was L)ekanefora, the head chief of the Onondaga tribe, " Go," said he, " my Irothers, I untie your bonds, and send you home again, although our nations be at war. The French governor has made me commit so blacic an action, that I shall never be easy after it, until the Five Nations have taken full revenge." The ambassadors were so well persuaded of the perfect truth of his declarations, that they replied in the most friendly terms, and said the way was opened to their concluding a peace between their respective tribes, at any time. He then ( ismissed his prisoners, with presents of arms, powder and ball, keeping but a single man (an adopted Sk^Awnee) to supply the place of the only man he had lost in the engage- sssa 246 ETHNOLOGY. ment. By one bold effort he thus blew up the Are of discord between the French a.-id their cnemica, at the moment it was about to expire, and Inid the foundation of a peace with his own nation. Adario delivered his slave to the French on reaching Mackinac, who; to keep up the old en- mity between the Wyandots and the Five Nations, ordered him to be shot. On this Adario called up an Iroquois prisoner who was a witness of this scene, and who had long been detained among them, and told him to es- cape to his own country, and give an account of the cruelly of the French, from whom it was not in his power to save a prisoner he had himself taken. This increased the rage of the Five Nations to such a pitch, that when Mons. Denonville sent a message to disown the act of Adario, they put no faith in it, but burned for revenge. Nor was it long before the French felt the effects of their rage. On the 26th of July, 1688, they landed with 1200 men on the upper end of the island of Montreal, and carried des- truction wherever they went. Houses were burnt, plantations sacked, and men, women and children massacred. Above a thousand of the French inhabitants were killed, and twenty-six carried away prisoners, most of whom were burnt alive. In October of the same year, they renewed their incursion, sweeping over the lower part of the island as they had previ- ously done the upper. The consequences of these inroads were most dis- astrous to the French, who were reduced to the lowest point of political despondency. They burnt their two vessels on Cadarackui lake, aban- doned the fort, and returned to Montreal. The news spread far and wide among the Indians of the upper lakes, who, seeing the fortunes of the French on the wane, made treaties with the English, and thus opened the way for their merchandise into the lakes. — [Golden.] Such were the consequences of a single enterprise, shrewdly planned and vigorously executed. The fame of its author spread abroad, and he was every where regarded as a man of address, courage and abilities. And it is from this time, .that the ancient feud between the Wyandots and their kindred, the Five Nations, began to cool. They settled on the straits of Detroit, where they so long, and up to the close of the late war (1814,) exercised a commanding influence among the lake tribes, as keepers of the general council fire of the nations. La Hontan, in his Travels in New France, relates some conversations with this chief, on the topic of religion, which may be regarded, almost exclusively, as fabulous. Adayes, Adaes, and Adees, forms of orthography, occurring in various writers, for the Adaize Indians, which see. Adequatangie, a tributary of the eastern head waters of the river Sus- quehaona in New- York. The word is Iroquois. Addees, the number of this tribe, residing on the waters of Red River, ETHNOLOGY. 247 in Louisiana, in 1825, is stated, in an official report, from the war depart* ment of that year, at twenty-seven. Ad6les, a settlement of Indians m the province of Orinoco. They were of the Saliva nation. The settlement was destroyed by the Cariba in 1684. Adir6ndack8, the name of the Iroquois tribes for the Algonquins. The consideration of their history and characteristics, as i family of tribes, will be taken up, under the latter term. AmnoNDACK Moi:ntains, a name bestowed, in the i;,'eoIogical survey of New York, upon the mountains at the source of the Hudson River. Adik, li-BA. See laba Wadik. AdikIminisi, or Cariboo Island ; an island situated in the north eastern part of lake Superior, which is invested with no other importance than it derives from Indian mythology and superstition. It is siaall and has sel- dom been visited. The Chippewas believe that this is one of the places of residence of their local manitoes, and that it was formerly inhabi»pd by Michnbo or Manabosho. Early travellers, who notice this belief, repre- sent its shores to be covered with golden sands, but that these sands are guarded by powerful spirits, who will not permit the treasure to be carried away. Many fanciful tales are told of its having been once attempted, when a huge spirit strode into the water, and reclaimed the shining trea- sure. This is Carver's version, who, however, confounds it with another contiguous island. Henry, who visited it in his search after silver mines, in 1765, says that the Indians told him that their ancestors had once landed there, being driven by stress of weather, but had great difficulty in escaping from the power of enormous snakes. He calls it the Island of Yellow Sands. It abounded certainly with hawks in his day, one of whom was so bold as to pluck his cap from his head. He found nothing to reward his search but a number of Cariboos, which is the American reindeer, of which no less than 13 were killed, during his stay of three days. He represented it to be 12 miles in circumference, low, and covered with ponds, and to be sixty miles distant from the north shore of the lake. He thinks it is perhaps the same island which the French called Isle de Pontchartrain. Affagoula, a small village of Indians, of Louisiana, whc. n ore located in 1783 near Point Coup6, on the Mississippi. Agaces, a nation of Indians of the province of Part^rruay. They are numerous, valiant, and of a lofty stature. They wero, in ancient times, masters of the banks of the Paraguay, waging war against the Guavanies, and keeping the Spaniards at bay, but were at last subjugated in 1542, by Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca, governor of the province. Agariata, an Iroquois chief, who, having gone on an embassy of peaoe about 1688, to Canada, the governor. Monsieur Course!, being exaspe- BfiBtttt 248 ETHNOLOGY. rated against him, on account of bad faith and a violation of a trealy, caused him to be hanged in the presence of his countrymen. Ac.AMENTiGis, a mountain of considerable elevation, c.'ght miles from York harbour, Maine; also, a river of the same vicinity, which derives Its waters chiefly from the influx of Piscataqua bay. The termination of the name in us^ is foreign, and not in accordance with the Abenakie dialects of this coast. Agamuntic, the name of a small lake, or pond, of Maine, which dis- charges its waters through the west branch of the Chaudiere river. Agawams, a band of Indians of the Pokenoket, or Wampanoag type, who formerly lived at various periods, in part in Sandwich, in part in Ipswich, and in part in Springfield, Massachusets. The word is written with some variety, in old authors, the chief of which, are, the addition of another g, and the change of the penultimate a to o. Agiocochook, a name of the Indians, for the White Mountains of New- Hampshire ; of which the penultimate ok, is the plural. This group is also called, according to President Allen, Waumbek — a word, which in some of the existing dialects of the Algonquin, is pronounced Waubik, that is, White Rock. Agnalos, a tribe of infidel Indians, inhabiting the mountains north of the river Apure, in New Grenada. Agkias, a tribe of Indians, formerly very numerous, of the govern- ment of Santa Maria, to the north of the Cienegra Grande. They are, at present, considerably reduced. Agua de Cllebra, San Francisco Xavier De La, a rcdwccion of Indians of the Capuchins, of the province of Venezuela. The vicinity produces, in abundance, cacao, yucao, and other vegetable productions. • Aguacagua, an Indian mission, on a branch of the Oronoco, called Caroni. Aguacatlan, an Indian mission of Xala, in Mexico. In 1745, it contained 80 families of Indians, who cultivated maize and French beans. Agualuix'O, the capital of the jurisdiction of Izatlan, New Galicia, which m 1745, contained 100 Indian families. Aguanos, a settlement in the province of Mainas, Uuito, so called from the Indians of whom it is composed. Aguauico, an Indian mission of the Jesuits, on the shores of the river Napo, of the province of Mainus, Quito. Aglarixgua, an ancient and large settlement of Indians of the Taironas uation, in Santa Marta. Aguilusco, a settlement of the district of Arantzan, in the province of Mechoacan, which contains 36 Indian families. They subsist by sowuig seed, cutting wood, making saddle trees, and manufacturing vessels of fine earthen ware. ing, ETHNOL.OGY. 249 Ahapopka, a lake of Florida, having its outlet through the Oclawaha liver of the St. John's. Ahasimus, an ancient Indian name, for the present site of Jersey city, Hudson county, New Jersey. Ahome, or Ahoma, a nation of Indians, living on the banks of the river Zaque, in the province of Cinaloa, of California. They are located four leagues from the gulf, in extensive and fertile plains, and are said to be su- perior, by nature, to the other Indians of New Spain. Some of their customs denote this. They abhor poligamy, they hold virginity in the highest estimation. Unmarried girls, by way of distinction, wear a small shell suspended to their neck, until the day of their nuptials, when it is taken off by the bridegroom. They wear woven cotton. They bewail their dead a year, at night and morning. They are gentle and faithful in their covenants and ensrao-ements. Ahouandate, a name for the tribe of the Wyandots, which is fourd on ancient maps of the Colonies. AiiUACATLAN, the name of four separate settlements of Mexico, contain- ing, respectively, 51, 13, 450, and 160 families of Indians. Ahuacazalca, Nueva Espana. At this place, 50 families of Indians live by raising rice and cotton. It is in the district of San Luis de la Costa. Ahuacazingo, in the district of Atengo, Nuevp. Espana, contains 46 Ind'in families. Ahualican, of the same province, has 36 Indian families. Ahuatelco, ib. Has 289 families, who cultivate wheat and raise cattle. Ahuatempa, ib. Has 39 families. Ahuatepec, ib. Has 32 families. Ahuazitla, ib. Has 36 families, who trade inchia, a white medicinal earth, grain and earthen-ware. AiiWAHAWA, a tribe of Indians who wrere found in 1 805 to be located a few miles above the Mandans, on the south west banks of the Missouri. They are believed to have been a band of the Minnitares. They numbered at that date 200. They were at war with the Snake Indians. They claim to have once been a part of the Crow nation. They professed to have been long residents of the spot occupied. The name has not been kept up, and does not appear in recent reports from that quarter. Their history is, probably, to be sought in that of the Mandans and the Minnetares. AiAHUALTEMPA, a Settlement of Chalipa, Mexico, containing 36 Indian families. AuHUALULco, ib. Two settlements of this name, contain, respectively, 70 and 42 Indian families. AiAPANc-o, ib. contains 100 Indian families. AiATE?£c, ib. has 45 families of natives. AuryrLA, ib. has 100 families. i P I: 250 ETHNOLOOT. AicHES, a settlement of Indians of Texas, situated on the main road to Mexico. AiECTiPAC, Mexico. Twenty-one Indian families reside here. AiNSE, a Chippewa chief of Point St. Ignace, Mechilimackinac county, Michigan. The population of this band, as shown by the government census rol's in 1840, was 193, of whom 33 were men, 54 women, and 106 children. They support themselves by the chase and by fishing. They cultivate potatoes only. They receive, together with the other bands, an- nuities from the government, in coin, provisions, salt, and tobacco, for which purpose they assemble annually, on the island of Michilimackinac. The name of this chief is believed to be a corruption from Hans. AiocuEsco, an Indian settlement of Chalipa, Mexico. Has 400 Indian families. AiocTiTLAN, ib. Has 76 ditto. AioziNAPA, ib. Has 34 ditto. AioziNGO, ib. Has 120 ditto. AiRicos, a nation of Indians inhabiting the plains of Cazanare and Meta in the new kingdom of Grenada, to the east of the mountains of Bogota. They inhabit the banks of the river Ele. They are numerous and warlike, and feared by all their neighbours, for their valour and dex- terity in the use of arms. In 10G2 Antonio de Monte verde, a Jesuit, es- tablished a mission among them, and baptized numbers. AisiiQt'AGONAiJEE. A Chippewa chief, of some note, of a mild and dig- nified carriage, living on Grand Traverse Bay, on the east shores of lake Michigan. In 1836 he formed a part of the delegation of Chippewa and Ottowa chiefs, who proceeded to Washington city, and concluded a treaty ceding their lands to the U. S. from Grand river on lake Michigan, to Chocolate river on lake Superior. The name signifies, the first feather, or feather of honour. The population of his village in 1840, as shown by the census rolls, was 207, of whom 51 were men, or heads of families, 49 women, and 107 children. They receive annuities annually at Michili- mackinac, They subsist by the chase, by planting corn, beans and pota- toes, and by fishing. AisHKEEUGFKozH, or the Flat Mouth, called Guelle Platte, in the patois of the Fur Trade. The Head chief of the band of the Chippewas, called Mukundwas or Pilligcrs, who are situated at Leech Lake, on the sources of the Mississippi. This band, ii is estimated, can furnish 200 warriors, they are a brave and warlike people, and are at perpetual war with their western neighbours, the Sioux. They subsist by the chnse, and by tak- ing white fish in the lake. Some corn and potatoes are also raised by the women and the old and superannuated men of the band. They are a fierce, wild, untamed race, strong in their numbers, and proud and confident in their success in war, and the comparative ease with which they procure a subsistence from the chase. They adhere to their ancient religious cere- monies anc priests, jossi cised the p( presiding, observation large, rath( a somewha city to com prominent characteris it is rathei have prese AlUINOS, They live lofty moun the Jesuits clined, anc AlUTLA, Another 1( Ajoues, existed un English head. Ak6sa, Bay, lake Wished nf periods of at that sta bestows a erected a of plain 1 and appri lization c or eloque but little stable, te physical! souls, on and 89 c Akan Alab from a t the sani Mobile. ETHNOLOGY. 251 monies and incantations, and are under the government of their native priests, jossakeeds and seers. Aishkebugekozh, has for many years exer- cised the political sway over them, leading them, isometimes to war, and presiding, at all times, in their councils. He is a shrewd man, of much observation and experience in the affairs of the frontiers. He is of a large, rather stout frame, broad shoulders and chest, and broad face, with a somewhat stern countenance, denoting decision of character and capa- city to command. Thin and extended lips, parted in a right line over a prominent jaw, render the name, which his people have bestowed on him, characteristic. By the term Kozh, instead of Odoan, the true meaning of it is rather muzzle, or snout, than mouth, a distinction which the French have preserved in the term Guelle. AiuiNos, a nation of Indians, of the government of Cinaloa, New Spain. They live in the north part of the province. They formerly dwelt in lofty mountains, to escape the effects of war with other nations. In 1624, the Jesuits established a mission amongst them. They are docile, well in- clined, and of good habits. AruTLA, a settlement of New Spain, containing 187 Indian families. Another location of the same name contains 23 families. Ajoues, a tribe of Indians of Louisiana, in its ancient extent, while it existed under the government of the French. The word, as expressed in English orthography, is lowas, and the tribe will be considered under that head. Ak6sa, an Odjibwa chief, living on the peninsula of Grand Traverse Bay, lake Michigan, );nown for his good will towards the mission esta- blished near his village, by the American Board, in 1839. In the recess periods of hunting, he is attentive on the means of instruction furnished at that station. He enjoins on his children attendance at the school. He bestows a punctual care in planting his corn-field and garden. He has erected a good dwelling house of logs, and supplied it with several articles of plain household furniture. He is of a mild and pleasing character, and appreciates and acknowledges the superiority of agriculture and civi- lization over the uncertainties of the chase. Without distinction in war, or eloquence, or a genealogy of warriors to refer to, and consequently, of but little general note or fame in his tribe, he is an active hunter, and stable, temperate man, and may be regarded as a fair average specimen, physically and mentally, of the race. The band of Akosa mustered 160 souls, on the pay rolls of 1840, of which number, 37 were men, 42 women, and 89 children. They receive their annuities at Michilimackinac. Akansa, a synonym of Arkansas. Alabama, one of the United States of America. The name is derived from a tribe of Indians, who formerly inhabited the banks of the river of the same name. This river, on its junction with the Tombigbee, forms the Mobile. The Alabama Indians, were succeeded in the occupancy of this i i ■afe w ^fc JM ^ J r Jitj.i, containing 570 Indian families. Amecaque, a settlement of Calpa, Mexico, containing 275 Indian families. America ; no nation of Indians on this continent, had, so far as we know, ever generalized sufficiently to bestow a generic name on the continent. The Algonquin terms " Our Country," Aindanukeyan, and " The West," Kabean, were probably the most comprehensive which their intercourse or ideas required. Equivalents for these phrases might be, perhap6, suc- cessfully sought among all the most advanced tribes. The instances here given are from the Odjibwa dialect. Amicways, or Amicawaes, a tribe or family of Indians, who are spoken of by the French writers as having formerly inhabited the Manatonline chain of islands in lake Huron. The term is from Amik, a beaver. The Ottowas settled here, after their discomfiture, along with the Adirondacks, on the St. Lawrence. Amik-eminis, the group of Beaver islands of Lake Michigan, The east- ernmost of this group is called Amik-aindaud, or the Beaver-house. These islands are inhabited by Chippewas, In 1840, they numbered 199 souls, of whom 39 were men, 51 women, and 109 children. All were engaged in the chase, or in fishing, and none in agriculture. Their chief was called Kinwabekizze, Amikwvg, a wild roving nation northwest of the sources of the Missis- sippi. See Beaver Indians. Amilpa, a settlement of Xochimilco, in Mexico, containing 730 Indian families, who nve by agriculture, Amiltepec, a settlement of Juquila, M., containing 14 Indian families. Amixocores, a barbarous nation of Indians of Brazil, They inhabit the woods and mountams south of Rio Janerio. They are cruel and treacherous. They are at continual war with the Portuguese. Very little is kni^wn of the territory they inhabit, or of their manners. KTHNOLOGT. 369 Ammouokauobn, a name used in 1659, for the southern branch of the Piscataqua river. Amola, or Amula, a judicial district in Ouadaxalora, Mexico. In the Mexican tongue, it signifies the land of many trees, as it abounds in trees The change from o to u in the word, is deemed a corruption. Amoltepkc, a settlement of Teozaqualco, Mexico, containing 96 Indian families. Amonoosuck, an Indian name which is borne by two rivers of New Hampshire. Both take their rise in the White Mountains. The upper Amonoosuck enters the Connecticut River, at Northumberland, near upper Coos. The lower, or Great Amonoosuck, enters the same river above the town of Haverhill, in lower Coos. Amopocan, a settlement of Indians of Cuyo, in Chili, situated along the shores of a river. Amozaque, a settlement of Pueblo de los Angelos, in a hot and dry tem- perature, containing 586 Indian families. Ampones, a barbarous nation of Indians, in Paraguay. They inhabit the forest to the south of the Rio de la Plata. They are of small stature. They are divided into several tribes. They are courageous. They live on wild tropical fruits, and on fish which are taken in certain lakes. They preserve these by smoking. They enjoy a fine country and climate. They find gold in the sand of their rivers, and have some traffic with the city of Conception. Some converts have been made to the Cath olic faith. Amues, a settlement and silver mine of San Luis de la Paz, in Mexico. It has 43 Indian families, besides 93 of Mustees and MuUatoes. They subsist by digging in the%nine8. Amurcas, a nation of barbarous Indians, descended from the Panches, in New Grenada. They live in the forests to the south of the river Mag- dalena. But little is known of them. Amuskeag, the Indian name of a fall m the river Merrimack, New Hampshire, 16 miles below Concord, and 7 miles below Hookset falls. Ana, Santa. Of the fifty-five names of places in Mexico, or New Spain, mentioned by Alcedo, which bear this name, seven are the seat of a joint population of 544 Indian families. Of these, 3 1 are in Zaqualpa ; 117 in Zultepec; 124 in Toluca; 134 in Cholula ; 18 iti Yautepec ; 25 in Mitia; 70 in Amaqueca; and 149 in Huehuetlan. Anahuac, the ancient Indian name of New Spain, or Mexico. The valley of Mexico, or Tenochtitlan, is, according to Humboldt, situated in the centre of the cordillera of Anahuac. This valley is of an oval form. Its length is 18J leagues, estimating from the entry of the Rio Tenango into lake Chalco to the foot of the Cerro de Sincoque, and 12^ leagues in breadth, from St. Gabriel to the sources of the Rio de Escapusalco. Its territorial extent is 24 4| square leagues, of which only 22 square leagues S60 KTHNOLOOT. are occupied by bket, being lest than a tenth of the whole surface. Tlii. circumference of the valley, estimating around the crest of the mountaini, is 67 leagues. This crest is very elevated in most parts, and embraces the great volcanoes of La Puebla, Popocatepetl, and Iztacchihuatl. There are five lakes in this valley, of which, that of Te/cuco is the largest. All are much diminished in the quantity of water they yield, since the 16th century, which is owing, in part, to the destruction of trees by the Span- iards, but most directly to the canal of Huehuetoco, cut through a moun- tain, by which the waters are drawn into the river Panuco, and thus find their way into the Atlantic. By this work, the city of Mexico itself was freed from all eflfects of periodical inundation, and the site enlarged and rendered better suited to streets and carriages. The waters of lake Tez- cuce are impregnated with muriate and carbonate of soda. Those of Xochimilco are the most pure and limpid. Humboldt found their specific gravity to be 1.0009, when distilled water at the temperature of 54° Fahrenheit, was 1.000, and that of Tezcuco 1.0215. Of the five lakes mentioned, Xochimilco and Chalco contain 6^ square leagues; Tezcuco, lO^^; San Christoval, 3^; and Zumpango, l-^. The valley is a basin, surrounded by an elevated wall of porphyry moun> tains. The bottom of this basin is 2,277 metres, or 7,468 feet above the sea. Analco, a settlement of Ouadalaxara, in Mexico, containing 40 Indian families. Anasaountakook, a band of the Abenaki, on the sources of the Andros- coggin, in Maine. Ancamares, a nation of Indians inhabiting the shores of the river Ma- dera. They are very warlike and robust. lA 1683 they attacked the Portuguese, and compelled them to give up the navigation of the river. They are divided into different tribes. The most numerous are the An- camares, who inhabit the shores of the river Cayari. Ancas, a nation of Indians in Peru, who, on the 6th January, 1725, were overwhelmed and destroyed by the ruins of a mountain which burst forth by an earthquake. Fifteen thousand souls perished on that occasion. Ance, or Hance's band of Chippewas, living at Point St. Ignace, on the straits of Michilimackinac, in Michigan. This band, in 1840, as de- noted by the annuity pay rolls, numbered 193 ; of whom, 33 were men, 54 women, and 106 children. They subsist in part by hunting the small furred animals still existing in the country, and in part by fishing. They migrate from place to place, as the season varies, plant very little, and are addicted to the use of ardent spirits. Anclote, an island on the southwest coast of Florida ; also, a river flowing into the gulf at that locality, which is also called, in the Seminole dialect, the Est-has-hotee. ETHNOLOGY. 261 Anouteres, a nation of infidel Indians inhabiting the forests of the river Napo, in Quito. They are numerous, savage, treacherous, and inconstant. Andastes, a nation formerly inhabiting the territory on the southern shores of lake Erie, southwest of the Senecas. They were extirpated by the Irjquois. Anjdaig Weos, or Crow's Flesh, a hereditary chief of the Chippewa nation, living towards the close of the last century at the ancient Indian village of La Pointe Chegoimegon, on lake Superior. He possessed quali- ties, which, under a different phasis of society, would have developed themselves in marked acts of benevolence. Numbers of anecdotes, favour- able to his character, are related of him, and have been handed down by tradition among the French residents on that remote frontier. Although a warrior, engaged. in frequent expeditions against the enemies of his tribe, he opposed the shedding of the blood of white men who were encountered, in a defenceless state, in the pursuits of trade. He also resisted the plun- der of their property. He had a strong natural sense of justice, accom- panied with moral energy, and gave utterance to elevated and ennobling sentiments in his intercourse. Andreas, San. A settlement of Texupilco, in Mexico, containing 77 Indian families ; another of Toluco, of 134 ; another in Tlatotepec, of 33 j another in Tuxtla, of 1170; another in Guejozingo, of 15; another in Papalotepec, of 20 ; another in Hiscoutepec, of 68 ; another in Tepehua- can, of 40 ; all under the same dedicatory name. Androscoggin, the main western source of the river Kennebec, in Maine. Angagua, Santiago De ; a settlement of Valladolid, Mexico, containing 22 Indian families. Angamocutiro, a s^tlement of the same district with the prA:eding, con- taining 1 06 Indian families. Angaraes, a province of Peru, containing six curacies or parishes of Indians. Angeles, Puebla De Los, the capitol of the province of Tlaxcala, in New Spain, or Mexico, founded in 1533. The entire number of Indian fami- lies within this important jurisdiction is 3,200, which, at the ordinary rate of the estimation of Indian population here, thot is, five souls to a family, gives an aggregate of 16,000. These are descendants of the ancient Azteecs, who inhabited the country on its conquest. This is, however, but the population of the chief town or capital. The entire intendency of Pueblos de los Angeles contained, in 1793, 508,098 souls. Of this number, 373,752 were Indians of pure blood, divided into 187,531 males, and 186,221 females. There were also 77,908 of the mixed race, divided into 37,318 males, and 40,590 females. But 54,980 were Spaniards, or whites, exclusive of 585 secular ecclesiastics, 446 monks, and 427 nuns. mm 262 ETHMOLOQY. This preponderance of the native Indian population is still more strik* itiT in the government of liaxcala, which, of course, includes the capital above named. In 1793, it contained a population of 59,177 souls; of which, 42,878 -vere Indians, divided into 21,849 males, and 21,029 females. The town is governed by a Cacique, and four Indian Alcaldes, who represent the ancient heads of the four quarters, still called Teepecti- pac, Ocotelalco, duiahtuitztlan, and Tizatlan. By virtue of a royal cedula of 16th April, 1585, the whites have no seat in the municipality. The Cacique, or Indian Governor, enjoys the honors of an alferez real Not- withstanding the zeal of a Spanish intendant general, the progress of the inhabitants in industry and prosperity has been extremely slow. The se- cret of this is, perhaps, revealed in the fact that four fifths of the whole property belongs to mort-main proprietors, ihat is to say, to communities of monks, to chapters, corporations, and hospitak. Their trade is also de- pressed by the enormous price of carriage from the table lands, and the want of beasts of burden. The geology and antiquities of this part of Mexico, are equally interest- ing. The intendenc y of Puebla is traversed by the high cordilleras of Anahuac, which, beyond the 18th degree of latitude, spreads into a plain, elevated from 1,800 to 2,000 metres above the level of the ocean, or from 5,905 to 6,561 feet. In this intendency is also the Popocatepetl, the high- est mountain in Mexico. Humboldt's measurement of this volcano makes it 600 metres (1,968 feet,) higher than the most elevated summit of the old continent. It is, indeed, only exceeded between Panama and Behring'a Straits, by Mt. St. Elias. The table land of Puebla exhibits remarkable vestiges of ancient civil- ization. The fortifications of Tlaxcala are posterior in the date of theii construction to the great pyramid of Cholula. This pyramid, or teocalli, is the most stupendous monument erected by the race. Its squares are arranged in exact accordance with the astronomical parallels. It is con- structed in stages or terraces, the highest of which is 177 feet above the plain. It has a base of 1423 feet. By a passage excavated into the north side of it, a few years ago, it is found to be solid, and to consist of alternate layers of brick and clay. Its centre has not, however, been reached, itf height exceeds the third of the great Egyptian pyramids of the group ol Ghiza. In its base, however, it exceeds that of all other edifices found by travellers in the old continent ; it is almost double that of the great pyra- mid of Cheops. To conceive of the vastness of the structure, let the tra- veller imagine a square four times the size of the Place Vendome, piled up with brick, in terraces, twice the utmost height of the palace of the Louvre. The Indians of the province of Tlaxcala speak three languages, differ- ing from one another, namely : the Mexican, Totonac, and Tlapanac. The first is peculiar to the inhabitants of Puebla, Cholula, ahd Tlascalla ; ETHNOLOGY. 263 the second to the inhabitants of Zacatlan ; and the third is preserved in the environs of Tlapa. The population of the entire intendency of Pue- bla, in 1803, that is, ten years after the census above noted, had advanced to 813,300 in an extent of 2,696 square leagues, giving 301 inhabitants to the square league. Small as this may appear, it is four times greater than that of Sweden, and nearly equal to that of the Kingdom of Arragon. Anialis, a barbarous nation of South American Indians, in the llanos of Casanare and Meta, in the new kingdom of Grenada. They are de- scended from the Betoyes. They are very numerous, and of a gentle nature. The Jesuits established a mission among them in 1722. Annaciois, or Annacous, a barbarous nation of Indians, of the province of Puerto Seguro, in Brazil. They inhabit the woods and mountains to the west, and near the rivers Grande and Yucara. They are in a con- stant state of warfare, night and day. They are irreconcileable enemies of the Portuguese, whose colonies and cultivated lands they continually infest, and which they destroyed in 1687. Annemosing, the name of the Ottowas, and Chippewas, for the Fox Islands, of lake Michigan. It is derived of Annemose, a young dog or fox, and i7ig, a partich denoting place, or locality. Annemikeens, a Chippewa hunter of Red River, in Hudson's bay, who survived a conflict with a grisly bear. After being terribly lacerated, in his face and limba, but not deprived of consciousness, he affected death. The animal then feized him gently by the neck, and dragged him to a thicket, where ho was left, as it was thought, to be eaten when the calls of hunger shoui.' demand. From this position he arose, first setting up, and binding jiViiis of his lacerated flesh down, and afterwards rose, and succeeded ir reaching his wigwam, where, by skill in the use of simples, his wounds v/ere entirely healed. The name signifies little thunder, be- ing a coTfyonnd from Annimikee, thunder, and the diminutive inflection in ui ANNUTrELiGo, a hammock brought to notice in the late war with the Seniinoles, in Florida. It is situated east of the Withlacooche river. Anolaima, a settlement of locaima, in New Granada, containing a small, but indefinite population of Indians. Antalis, a barbarous and warlike nation of Indians, in the kingdom of Chile, to the west of Coquimbo. They valorously opposed the pro- gress of the Inca Yupanqui, compelling him, in the end, to terminate his conquests on the other side of the river Maule, the last boundary of Peru. Antiquities. See the articles Grave Creek, Marrietla, Circleville, &c. Antiiony St. ; the falls of, being the fourth and lowermost of the per- pendicular, or prominent falls of the Mississippi, and by far the greatest. rhe first fall of this stream is the Kakabika, situated about half a day's journey below Itasca lake ; the second is called Pukagama, and occurs be- 264 ETHNOLOGY. low the influx of the Leech lake bi^anch. The third is below Elk river and is passable in boats and canoes. St. Anthony's is the most consider able of the series, and the only one which presents an abrupt plunge of the stream from horizontal rocks. They were thus named by Hennepin^ about 1680. By the Dacotah Indians, who inhabit the country, they are' called Haha. It is at this point, that the Mississippi, which gathers its waters from high table lands, and has its course, for several hundreds of miles, through diluvions superimposed on the primitive, first plunges into the great secondary formation. For more than a thousand miles, in its way southward, its banks are rendered imposing and precipitous by this formation. At or near the Grand Tower, and its adjunct precipice, on the Missouri shore, this formation ceases, and ihe river enters the great delta, which still confines it, for a like distance, before it expands itself, by its bifurcations, and final exit, in the Gulf of Mexico, at the Balize. Antonio, San. The following statistical facts, deno<« the Indian popu- lation, of sundry settlements, bearing this name, within the former govern- ment ;f New Spain, now Mexico. In the limits '/ Tollman, 32 families ; in Tampolomon, 128; in Toluca 51 ; in Metepec261; in Coronango, 44 ; in Huehuetlan, 140; in Chapala, 27. Apacahund, or White Eyes, a Delaware chief of note, of the era of the American revolution, who is frequently mentioned in documents of the times. Apaces, San Juan Bautista De, a settlement of Zelaga in the province and bishopric of Mechoacan, containing 135 Indian families. Another settlement, of the same name, with the dedicatory title of Santa Maria, in the district of Zitaguaro, contains 24 families. Apaches, a nation of Indians, located between the Rio del Norte and the sources of the Nuaces, who were reported, in 1817, at 3,500. In an official report submitted to Congress, in 1837, their numbers " within striking distance of the western frontier," are vaguely put at, 20.280. Apallachians ; a nation of Indians who formerly inhabited the ex- treme southern portion of the United States, and have left their name in the leadin^range of the Apallachian mountains. In 1539 De Soto found them in Florida, a term at that era comprehending also the entire area of the present states of Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and other portions of the southern territory. They were numerous, fierce, and valorous. They were clothed in the skins of wild beasts. They used bows and •rrows, clubs and spears. They did not, as many nations of barbarians do, poison their darts. They were temperate, drinking only water. They did not make wars on slight pretences, or for avarice, but to repress at- taek-s, or remedy injustice. They treated their prisoners with humanity, and like other persons of their households. They were long lived, some persons reaching a hundred years. They worshipped the sun, to which they sang hymns, morning and evenitig. These facts are to be gleaned from the umraiive. What were their numbers, how far they extended their jurisdnetion, what were their affiliations by language, customs, and institutions wi#» other tribes, cannot be accurately decided. Much that is said of th«nr cjvil and military polity, buildings, ceremonies and other traits, applies to th*' Kloridian Indians generally, and may be dismissed as either vague, or not characteristic of the Appalachians. A quarto vol- ume was published in London in 1666, by John Davies, under the title of a " History of the Caribby Indians," in which he traces the caribs of the northern groups of the West Indies, to the Apcllachians, and relates many incidents, and narrates a series of surprisii""/ v^ars and battles, reaching, in their effects, throi.gh the Mississippi, va'lv.y up to the great lakes, which have the appearauce of fable. Fcvmu. *> jf this account, which speaks of " cattle" and •' herds," may be grafieu; on ancient tra- ditions, it is impossible to tell. There are some proofs of such an an- cient civilisation in the Ohio valley and other sections of the country, bnt they are unconnected with any Indian traditit/iN, which have survivt ., unless we consider the mounds and remains of antique forts as mr-uu- mental evidences of these reputed «rars. The Lenapee accu'jvits c\ tiicse ancient wars with the Tallagees or AUegewy, may be thought t"^ v. for to this ancient people, who had, if this conjecture be correct, * aded their dominion to the middle and northern latitudes of the present area of the United States, prior to the appearance of the Algonquin and Iro quies races. Mr. Irving has suggested the name of Apallachia, ur Alle gania, derived from the stock, for this division of the continent I 265 LAIGUAGE. LECTURES ON THE GRAMMATICAL STRUCTURE OF THE INDIAN LANGUAGE. The course of lectures, of which the following are part, were delivered before the St. Mary's committee of the Algic Society. Two of them only have been published. They are here continued from the article " Indian Languages," at page 202 of the "Narrative of the Discovery of the actual Source of the Mississippi, in Itasca Lake," published by the Harpers, in 1834. The family of languages selected as the topic of inquiry, is the Algonquin. All the examples employed are drawn from that particular type of it which is called Chippewa, in our transactions with them, but which they uniformly pror ounce themselves, Od-jib-wa. These terms are employed as perfect synonyms. The phrase " Odjibwa-Algonquin," wherever it occurs, is intended to link, in the mind of the inquirer, the species and the genus (if we may borrow a term from natural history) of the language, but is not fraught with, or intended to convey, any additional idea. The three terms relate to one and the same people. LECTURE III. Observations on the Adjective — Its distinction into tw^ clisses denoted by the presence or absence of vitality — Examples of the animates and inanimates — Mode of their conversion into substantives — How pronouns are applied to these derivatives, and the manner of forming compound terms from adjective bases, to describe the various natu> ral phenomena — The application of tiiese principles in common conversation, and in the description of natural and artificial objects — Adjectives always preserve the dis- tinction of number — Numerals — Arithmetical capacity of the language — The unit exists in duplicate. 1. It has been remarked that the distinction of words into animates and inanimates, is a principle intimately interwoven throughout the structure of the language. It is, in fact, so deeply imprinted upon its grammatical forms, and is so perpetually recurring, that it may be looked upon, not only as forming a striking peculiarity of the language, but as constituting the fundamental principle of its structure, from which all other rules have derived ;heir limits, and to which they have been made to conform. No class of w ords appears to have escaped its impress. Whatever concords 266 LANGUAGE. 267 I' i other laws impose, they all agree, and are made subservient in the estab- lishment of this. It might appear to be a useless distinction in the adjective, when the substantive is thus marked ; but it will be recollected that it is in the plural of the substantive only, ' * the distinction is marked. And we shall presently have occasion t .hat redundancy of forms, are, to considerable extent, obviated in e. For the origin of the principle oil, we need look only to nature, which en- dows animate bodies with animate properties and qualities, and vice versa. But it is due to the tribes who speak this language, to have invented one set of adjective symbols to express the ideas peculiarly appropriate to the former, and another set applicable, exclusively, to the latter ; and to have given the words good and bad, black and white, great and small, handsome and ugly, such modifications as are practically compe'. nt to indicate the ge- neral nature of the objects referred to, whether provided with, or destitute of the vital principle. And not only so, but by the figurative use of these forms, to exalt inanimate masses into the class of living beings, or to strip the latter of the properties of life — a principle of much importance to their public speakers. This distinction is shown in the following examples, in which it will be observed, that the inflection izzi, generally denotes the personal, and am, un^ or wild, the impersonal forms. Adj : I/ianmate. A dj : Animate. Bad Monaud ud Monaud izzi. Ugly Gushkoonaug wud Gushkoonaug oozzi Beautiful Bishegaindaug wud Bishegaindaug oozzi. Strong Sdng unr Song izzi. Soft Nok un Nok izzi. Hard Mushkow au Mushkow izzi. Smooth Shoiskw au Shoisk oozzi. Black Mukkuddaw au iVTukkuddiiw izzi. White Waubishk au Waubishk izzi. Yellow Ozahw au O^ahvv izzi. Red Miskw au Miskw izzi. Blue Ozhahwushkw au Ozhahwushkw izzi. Sour Sheew un Sheew izzi. Sweet Weeshkob un Weeshkob izzi. Light Naung un Naung izzi. It is not, hovvever, in all cases, by mere modifications of the adjective, .hat these distinctions are expressed. Words totally different in sound, and evidently derived from radically different roots, are, in some few instan- ces, employed, as in the following examples : 268 LANGUAGE. Adj: Inanimate. Adj Animate. Good Onisheshin Minno. Bad Monaudud Mudjee. Tjarge Mitshau Mindiddo. Small Pungee Uggaushi Old Geekau Gitizzl. It may be remarked of these forms, that although the impersonal will, in some instances, take the personal inflections, the rule is not reciprocated, and minno, and mindiddo, and gitizzi, and all words similarly situated, remain unchangeably animates. The word pungee, is limited to the expression of quantity, and its correspondent uggaushi, to size, or quality. Kishe- da, (hot) is restricted to the heat of a fire ; keezhauta, to the heat of the sun. There is atill a third term to indicate the natural heat of the body, Kizzizoo. Mitshau (large) is generally applied to countries, lakes, riv- ers, tfec. Mindiddo, to the body, and gitshee, indiscriminately. Onishi- shin. and its correspondent onishishsha, signify, handsome or fair, ns well as gool Kwonaudj a. a. and kwonaudj ewun a. i. mean, strid'y, hand- soaie, oud imply nothing further. Minno, is the appropriate personal Jo^m f: V good. Mudgee and monaudud, may reciprocally change gen- it-:a, tiij lirst by the addition of i-e-e, and the second by aUering ud to izzi Distinciions of this kind are of considerable; importance in a practical point of view, and their observance or neglect, are noticed with scrupulous exactness by the Indians. The want of inanimate forms to such words as happy, sorrowful, brave, sick «kc. creates no confusion, as inanimate nouns cannot, strictly speaking, take upon themselves such qualities, and when they do — as they sometimes do, by one of those extravagant figures of speech, which are used in their tales of transformations, the animate forms answer all purposes. For in these tales the whole material creation may be clothed with animation. The rule, as exhibited in practice, is limited, with sufficient accuracy, to the boundaries prescribed by nature. To avoid a repetition of forms, were the noun and the adjective both to be empLyed in the;/ usual relation, the latter is endowed with a pronomi- nal, or substantive inflection. And the use of the noun, in its separate form, is thus wholly superceded. Thus onishishin, a. i. and onishishsba, a. a. becomo Wanishishing, tha' vhich is good, or fair, and Wanish- ishid, he who is good or lair. Ta«. following examples will exhibit this rule, under each of its fornis. Compound or Noun-Adjective Animate. Black Mukkuddaw i?:/i Makuddaw izzid. White Waubishk izzi Wyaubishk izzid. Yellow Ozahw izzi Wazauw izzid. Red Miskw izzi Mashk oozzid. Strong Song izzi Song izzid. LANGUAGE. 269 Noun-Adjective Inanimate. Black Mukkuddaw au Mukkuddftw aug. White Waubishk au Wj'aubishk aug. Yellow Ozahvv au Wazhauw aug. Red Mishkw au Mishkw aug. The animate forms in these examples will be recognized, as exhibiting a further extension of the rule, mentioned in the preceding chapter, by which substantives are formed from the indicative of the verb by a permu- tation of the vowels. And these A)rms are likewise rendered plural in the manner there mentioned. They also undergo changes to indicate the various persons. For instance onishisha is thus declined to mark the person. Wanishish-eyaun I (am) good, or fair. Wunishish-eyun Thou (art) good, or fair. Wanishishid He (is) good or fair. V7anishish-eyang We (are) good or fair (ex.) Wanishish-eyung We (are) good a fair (in.) Wanishish-eyaig Ye (are) good or fair. Wanishish-idigj They (are) good or fair. The inanimate forms, being without person, are simply rendered plural by i?i, changing maiskwaug, to maiskwaug-in, &c. &c. The verbal sig- nification which these forms assume, as indicated in the words am, art, is, are, is to be sought in the permutative change of the first syllable. Thus o is changed to wS,, muk to mak, waub to wy-aub, ozau to wazau, misk to maisk, &c. The pronoun, as is usual in the double compounds, is formed wholly by the inflections eyaun, eyun, &.c. The strong tendency of the adjective to assume a personal, or pronom- ico-substantive form, leads to the employment of many words in a par- ticular, or exclusive sense. And in any future practical attempts with the language, it wil» be found greatly to facilitate its acquisition if the adjec- tives are arranged in distinct classes, separated by this characteristic prin- ciple of their application. The examples we have given are chiefly those which may be considered strictly animate, or inanimate, admit of double forms, and are of general use. Many of the examples recorded in the original manuscripts dinployod in those lectures, are of a more concrete character, and, at the saiiid lime, ii more limited use. Thus shau^wewe, is a weak person, niikuuiiiuninc, u weak ilnnk, nnkangwud, a weak, or soft piece of wood. Siisulgiiii, is lino, Imt ("i»n (inly bo applied to per- sonal appcMimiice : beesau, indiciiles fine grains. Keewushkwa is giddy, and keesvuslikwiibmi, f^idily with drink, both beirg restricted to the third person. SOngun and songizzi, are the personal and itnpersonal forms of strong, as given above. But Mushkowaugumme, is strong drink. In like manner the two words for hard, as above, are reiliietod to solid sub- .M 270 LANGUAGE. Stances. Sunnuhgud is hard (to endure,) waindud, is easy (to perform.) Sdnged^a is brave, ShaugedM cowardly, keezhinzhowizzi, active, kizhe* kau, swift, onaunegoozzi lively, minwaindum happy, gushkwaindum, sor- rowful, but all these forms are confined to the third person of the indica- tive, singular. Pibbigwau, is a rough or knotted substance. Pubbiggo- ozzi, a rough person. Keenwau is long, or tall, (any solid mass.) Kay- nozid is a tall person. Tahkozid a short person. Wassayau is light ; wassaubizzoo, the light of the eye ; wasshauzha,the light of a star, or any luminous body. Kecnau is sharp, keenaubikud, a sharp knife, or stone. Keezhaubikeday, is hot metal, a hot stove, &c. Keezhaugummeda, is hot water. AubudgeetiJn, is useful, — a useful thing. Wauweeug is frivolous, any thing frivolous in word, or deed. Tubbushish, appears to be a gene- ral term for low. Ishpimming is high in the air. Ishpau, is applied to any high fixture, as a house, ^c. Ishpaubikau is a high rock. Taush* kaubikau, a split rock. These combinations and limitations meet the inquirer at every step. They are the current phrases of the language. They present short, ready, and often beautiful modes of expression. But as they shed light, both upon the idiom and genius of the language, I shall not scruple to add further examples and illustrations. Ask a Chippewa, the name for rock, and he will answer awzhebik. The generic import of aubik, has been ex- plained. Ask him the name for red rock, and he will answer miskwau- bik, — for white rock, and he will answer vvaubaubik, for black rock mukkuddawaubik, — for yellow rock, ozahwaubik, — for green rock, oz- hahwushkwaubik, — for bright rock, wassayaubik, for smooth rock, shois- hkwaubik, The Great Spirit made water. ICauweekau neezhikay ussii- mau ne sun;guswaunausee, Monaiulud mait-likowauguinig, Strong drink (is) bad. Keeguhgce baudjeegonaun, It makes us foolish. Gitshee Monedo nebee ogee Dzhetiin, Inineewugdush\veenishkiidil.>„ * , ,., „ , 1 u ,■• u ^ "Ut '^i"! made whiskey, waubo ogeo ozhetonahwaun. ) ^ These expressions are put down promiscuously, embracing verbs and nouns as they presented themselves; and without any effort to suppoit the opinioa — which may, or may not be correct — that the elementary forms of the adjectives are most commonly required before verbs and nouns in the first and second persons. The English expression is thrown into In- dian in the most natural manner, and of course, without always giving adjective for adjective, or noun for noun. I'hus, God is rendered, not " Monedo," but, " Geezha Monedo," Merciful 'tit. Good luck, is ren- dered by the compound phrase " Shdwainda; .izeyun," indicating, in a very general sense the influence of khuLness or benevolence on success in life. " Songediia, is alone, a brave man ; and the word " Kiigut," prefixed, is an adverb. In the expression " mild tobacco," the adjective is entirely dispensed with in the Indian, the sense being sufficiently rendered by the compound noun "appaukoozzegun," which always means the Indian weed, or smoking mixture. " Ussamau," on the contrary, without the adjective, signifies, " pure tobacco." '' Bikwakdn," signifies blunt, or lumpy-headed arrows. Assowaun is the barbed arrow. Kvvonaudj kweeweezains, means, not simply " pretty boy," but 'pretty little boy ; and there is no mode of using the word boy but in this diminutive form — the the word itself being a derivative, from kewewe, conjugal with the regular diminutive in ams. '• Onaunegoozzin" embraces the pronoun, verb and adjective, be thou cheerful. In the last phrase of the examples, *' man," 18 rendered men (inineewug) in the translation, as the term man cannot be employed in the gemral plural sense it conveys in this connection, in the original. The word " whiskey," is rendered by the compound phrase ishkodawaubo, literally, fine-liquor, a generic for all kinds of ardent spirits. These aberrations from the literal term, will convey some conceptions of the difference of the two idioms, although, from the limited nature and object of the examples, they will not indicate the full extent of this differ- ence. In giving anythinglike the spirit of the original, much greater de- viations, in the written forms, must appear. And in fact, not only the Btructure of the language, but the mode and vrder of thought of the Indians is so essentially different, that any attempts to preserve the English idiom — to give letter for letter, and word for word, must go far to render the translation pure nonsense. 18 .^. ir ^f^^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) K. ^ .7" i «./. ^ 1.0 I.I U£ 1^ 12.2 1.8 - 6" Photographic Sciences Corporation 1.25 IIIIII.4 ill.6 73 WfiST MAIN STf.ifT WMSTM.N.Y. M580 (716) 872-4S03 274 LANGUAGE. 2. Varied as the adjective is, in its changes it has no compurative in* flection. A Chippewa cannot say that one substance is hotter or colder than another ; or of two or more substances unequally heated, that this, or that is the hottest or coldest, without employing adverbs, or accessory ad< iectives. And it is accordingly by adverbs, and accessory adjectives, that the degrees of comparison are expressed. Pimmaudizziwin, is a very general substantive expression, in indicating the tenor of being or life. Izzhewftbizziwin, is a term near akin to it, but more appropriately applied to the acts, conduct, manner, or personal deport- ment of life. Hence the expressions : Nin bimmaudizziwin, Ke bimmaudizziwin, O Pimmaudizziwin, Nin dizekewgbizziwin, Ke dizhewabizziwin, O Izzhew&bizziwin, My tenor of life. Thy tenor of life. His tenor of life, &c. My personal deportment Thy personal deportment. His personal deportment, &c. To form the positive degree of comparison for these terms minno, good, and mudjee, bad, are introduced between the pronoun and verb, giving rise to some permutations of the vowels and consonants, which affect the sound only. Thus: — Ne minno pimmaudizziwin, Ke minno pimmaudizziwin, Minno pimmaudizziwin, Ne mudjee pimmaudizziwin, Ke mudjee pimmaudizziwin, Mudjee pimmaudizziwin. My good tenor of life. Thy good tenor of life. His good tenor of life. My bad tenor of life. Thy bad tenor of life. His bad tenor of life. To place these forms in the comparative degree, nahwudj, more, is pre- fixed to the adjective ; and the superlative is denoted by mahmowee, an ad* verb, or an adjective as it is variously applied, but the meaning of which, is, in this connexion, most. The degrees of comparison may be therefore set down as follows : — Positive, Kisheda, Hot, (restricted to the heat of a fire.) Comp. Nahwudj Kisheda, More hot. Super. Mahmowee Kishedft, Most hot. * Your manner of life is good, Your manner of life is better, Your manner of life is best, His manner of life is best, Little Turtle was brave, Ke dizzihewabizziwin onishishin. Ke dizzhewabizziwin nahwudj onis* hishin. { Ke dizzhewabizziwin mahmowe^ ( onishishin. ( OdizzhewQ uizziwin mahmowee onish* f ishinine. MikkenokOns sOagedaabuD. LANGUAGE. Tecumseh was braver, Tedlimaeh nahwidj tOngedAftbun. Pontiac was bravest, Pontiac mabmowee sOngedft&bun. 3. The adjective assumes a nega^ve form when it is preceeded by tho adverb. Thus the phrase sOngeda&, he is brave, is changed to, Kah* ween sdnged&cUee, he is not brave. Positive. Neebwaukah, Ho is wise. Kwonaudjewe, She is handsome, Oskineegee, He is young. Shaugweewee, He is feeble. Geekkau, He is old. Mushkowizzi, He is strong. Negative. Kahween neebwaukah-see, He is not wise. ': Kahween kwonaudjewe-seet She is not handsome. Kahween oskineegee-see. He is not young. Kahween Shaugweewee-se^, He is not feeble. Kahween Geekkau-see, He is not old. Kahween Mushkowizzi-see, He is not strong. From this rule the indeclinable adjectives — by which is meant those ad« jwctives which do not put on the personal and impersonal forms by inflec- tion, but consist of radically diflferent roots — form exceptions. Ke dahkoozzi nuh? Kahween ke dahkoozzi-see I Ne minwaindum. Kahween ne minwuinduz-see Mudjee izzhewabizzi. Kahween mudjee a izzhewabizzirsee. Mitshau muggud. Kahween mitshau-seendn. Are you sick? You are not sick I I am happy. I am unhappy. His manner of life is bad. His manner of life is not bad. It is large. It is not large. In these examples the declinable adjectives are rendered negative in see. The indeclinable, remain as simple adjuncts to the verbs, and the latter pui on the negative form. 4. In the hints and remarks which have now been furnished respect- ing the Chippewa adjective, its powers and inflections have been shown to run parallel with those of the substantive, in its separation into animates and inanimates, — in having the pronominal inflections, — in taking an in- flection for tense — (a topic, which, by the way, has been very cursorily passed over,) and in the numerous, modifications to form the compounds. This parallelism has also been mtimated to hold good with respect to number — a subject deeply interesting in itself, as it has its analogy only in the ancient languages, and it was therefore deemed best to defer giving ex- amples till they could be introduced without abstracting the attention from other points of discussion. 276 LANOVAGE. Minno and mudjee, good and bad, being of the limited number of per- sonal adjectives, which modern usage permits being applied, although often improperly applied, to inanimate objects, they as well as a few other adjectives, form exceptions to the use of number. Whether we say a good man or a bad man, good men or bad men, the words minno and mudjee, remain the same. But all the declinable and coalescing adjectives — adjec- tives which join on, and, as it were, melt into the body of the substantive, take the usual plural inflections, and are governed by the same rules in regard to their use, as the substantive, personal adjectives requiring per- sonal plurals, &,c. / Adjectives Animate. Singular. Onishishewe mishemin, Kwonaudjewe eekwa, Songeddd inine, Bishegaindaugoozzi peenasee, Ozahwizzi ahmo, Plural. Onishishewe-wug mishemin -ug, Kwonaudjewe-wug eekwa-wug, Songed&a-wug inine-wug, Bishegaindaugoozzi-wug peenasee-wug, Beautiful birds. Ozahwizzi'Wug ahm-Og, Yellow bees. Adjectives Inanimate. Singular. Onishishin mittig, Good tree. Kwonaudj tshemaun, Handsome canoe. Monaudud ishkoda. Bad fire. Weeshkobun aidetaig. Sweet fruit. Plural. Good apple. Handsome woman. Brave man. Beautiful bird. Yellow bee. Good apples. Handsome women. Brave men. Onishishin-dn mittig-6n, Kwonaudjewun-On tshemaun-un, Monaudud-dn ishkod-^n, Weeshkobun-On aidetaig-in. Good trees. Handsome canoes. Bad fires. Sweet fruits. Peculiar circumstances are supposed to exist, in order to render the use of the adjective, in this connexion with the noun, necessary and proper. But in ordinary instances, as the narration of events, the noun would precede the adjective, and oftentimes, particularly where a second allusion to objects previously named became necessary, the compound ex- pressions would be used. Thus instead of saying the yellow bee, way- zahwizzid, would distinctly convey the idea of that insect, had the species been before named. Under similar circumstances kainwaukoozzid, agau- \ LANGUAGE. 277 per- •ugh >ther ijee, djec- itive, s in per- the and oun 9nd ex- ay- xies :au- sheid sdngaunemud, mushkowaunemud, would respectively signify, a tall tree, a small fly, a strong wind, a hard wind. And these terms would be- come plural in jig, which, as before mentioned, is a mere modification of ig, one of the five general animate plural inflections of the language. Kagalt wahwinaudj abbendjeeug, is an expression indicating theif are very handsome children. Bubbeeweezheewug monetdsug, denotes small insects. Minno neewugizzi, is good tempered, he is good tempered. Mawshininewugizzi, is bad tempered, both having their plural in loug. Nin nuneenahwaindum, I am lonesome. Nin nuneenahwaindaumin, we (excluding you) are lonesome. Waweea, is a term generally used to express the adjective sense of round. Kwy, is the scalp. ( Weenikwy his scalp.) Hence Weewukwon, hat ; Wayweewukwonid, a wearer of the hat ; and its plural Wayeewukwonidjig, wearers of the hats — the usual term applied to Europeans, or white men generally. These examples go to prove, that under every form in which the adjective can be traced, whether in its simplest or most compound state, it is susceptible of number. The numerals of the language are converted into adverbs, by the in- flection ing, making one, once, &>c. The unit exists in duplicate. Pazhik, One, general unit) . , ,. ^^ , ' "* . , . J Aubedmg, Once. Ingoot, One, numerical unit) "' Neesh, Two. Niswee, Three. Neewin, Four. Naunun, Five. N'goodwaswa, Six. Neeshwauswa, Seven. Shwauswe, Eight. Shongusswe, Nine. Meetauswee, Ten. Neeshing, Twice. Nissing, Thrice. Neewing, Four-times. Nauning, Five-times. N'goodwautshing, Six-times. Neeshwautshing, Seven-times. Shwautshing, Eight-times. Shongutshing, Nine-times. Meetaushing, Ten-times. These inflections can be carried as high as they can compute numbers. They count decimally. After reaching ten, they repeat, ten and one, ten and two, &c. to twenty. Twenty is a compound signifying two tens, thirty, three tens, ifcc, a mode which is carried up to one hundred nl good- wok. Wak, then becomes the word of denomination, combining with the names of the digits, until they reach a thousand, meetauswauk, literally, ten hundred. Here a new compound term is introduced made by prefixing twenty to the last denomination, neshtonnah duswak, which doubles the last term, thirty triples it, forty quadruples it, Slc, till the computation reaches to ten thousand, n'goodwak dushing n'goodwak, one hundred times one hundred. This is the probable extent of all certain computation. The term Gitshee, (great,) prefixed to the last denomination, leaves the number indefinite. There is no form of the numerals corresponding to second, third, fourth, &c. They ccn only further say, nittum first, and ishkwaudj, last. LECTURE IV. Nature and principles of the pronoun — Its diatinction into preformative and subfor mative claaBea — Personal pronouns — ^The distinction of an inclusive and exclusive form in the number of the first person plural — Modifications of the personal pronouns to im- ply existence, individuality, possession, ownership, position and other accidents — Declen- sion of pronouns to answer the purpose of the auxiliary verbs — Subformatives, how employed, to mark the persons — Relative pronoims considered — Their application to the causative verbs — Demonstrative pronouns — theur separation into two classes, auiniatea and inanimates — Example of their use. Pronodns are buried, if vre may so ray, in the structure of the verb. In tracing them back to their primitive forms, through the almost infinite variety of modifications which they assume, in connexion with the verb, substantive and adjective, it will facilitate analysis, to group them into preformative and subformative, which include the pronominal prefixes and suffixes, and which admit of the further distinction of separable and inseparable. By separable is intended those forms, which have a mean- ing by themselves, and are thus distinguished from the inflective and subformative pronouns, and pronominal particles significant only, in con- nection with another word. 1. Of the first class, are the personal pronouns Neen (I,) Keen (thou,) and Ween or O (he or she.) They are declined to form the plural per •mis in the following manner : % Neen. We We Thou, Keen. Ye He or She, Ween or O. , They Here the plural persons are formed by a numerical inflection of the singular. The double plural of the first person, of which both the rule and examples have been incidentall}* given in the remarks on the substan- tive, is one of those peculiarities of the language, which may, perhaps, serve to aid in a comparison of it, with other dialects, kindred and foreign. As a mere :onventional agreement, for denoting whether the person ad- dressed, be included, or excluded, it may be regarded as an advantage to the language. It enables the speaker, by the change of a single conso- Mtnt, to make a fall and clear discrimination, and relieves the narration 278 Keen owind (in.) Neen owind (ex.) Keen owau. Ween owau. INDIAN LANGUAGES. 279 fcom doubts and ambiguity, where doubts and ambiguity would otherwise often erJst. On the other hand, by accumulating distinctions, it loads the memory with grammatical forms, and opens a door for improprieties of speech. We are not aware of any inconveniencies in the use of a gene- ral plural. But in the Indian it would produce confusion. And it it perhaps to that cautious desire of personal discrimination, which is so ap- parent in the structure of the language, that we should look for the rea^ son of the duplicate forms of this word. Once established, however, and both the distinction, and the necessity of a constant and strict attention to it, are very obvious and striking. How shall he address the Deity ? If he say — " Our father who art in heaven" the inclusive form of " our" makes the Almighty one of the suppliants, or family. If he use the ex- clusive form, it throws him out of the family, and may embrace every liv- ing being but the Deity. Yet, neither of these forms can be used well in prayer, as they cannot be applied directly to the object addressed. It is only when speaking of the Deity, under the name of father, to other per- sons, that the inclusive and exclusive forms of the word " our" can be used. The dilemma may be obviated, by the use of a compound descrip- tive phrase — Wa 6 se mig o yun, signifying — thou who art the fa- ther OF ALL. Or, universal father. In practice, however, the question is cut short, by those persons who have embraced Christianity. It has seemed to them, that by the use of either of the foregoing terms, the Deity would be thrown into too remote a relation to them, and I have observed, that, in prayer, they invariably ad- dress Him, by the term used by children for the father of a family, that is, NosA, my father. The other personal pronouns undergo some peculiar changes, when employed as preformatives before nouns and verbs, which it is important to remark. Thus neen, is sometimes rendered ne or nin, and sometirttes nim. Keen, is rendered ke or kin. In compound words the mere signs of the first and second pronouns, N and K, are employed. The use of ween is limited ; and the third person, singular and plural, is generally in- dicated by the sign, O. The particle suh added to the complete forms of the disjunctive pro- nouns, imparts a verbal sense to them ; and appears in this instance, to be a succedaneum for the substantive verb. Thus Neen, I, becomes Neensuh, it is I. Keen, thou, becomes Keensuh, it is thou, and Ween, he or she, Weensuh, it is he or she. This particle may also be added to the plural forms. Keenowind suh. Neenowind suh. Keenowa suh. Weennwau suh. It is we (in.) It is we (ex.) It is ye, or you. It is they. 280 INDIAN LANOUAOES. If the word aittah be subetiluted for suh^ a set of adverbial phrases are formed. Neen aittah, I only. Keen aittah, Thou only. Ween aittah, He or she only. Neen aittah wind, We dec. (ex.) Keen aittah wind. We &c. (lu. ) Keen aittah wau. You Sec. Ween aittah wau. They &c. In like manner niltum first, and ishkwaudj last, give rise to the follow* in£: arrangement of the pronoun : Neen nittum. Keen nittum, Ween nittum, Keen nittum ewind, Neen nittum ewind, Keen nittum ewau. Ween nittum ewau. I first You or thou first. He or she first. We first, (in.) We first, (ex.) Ye or you first They first ISHKWAUDJ. Neen ishkwaudj. Keen ishkwaudj, Ween ishkwandj, Keenowind ishkwaudj, Neenowind ishkwaudj, Keenowau ishkwaudj, Weenowau ishkwaudj. I last. Thou last. He or she last We last (in.) We last (ex.) Ye or you last. They last. The disjunctive forms of the pronoun are also sometimes preserved be* fore verbs and adjectives. NEEZHIKA. Neen neezhika. Keen neezhika. Ween neezhika, Keenowind neezhika, Neenowind neezhika, Keenowau neezhika, Weenowau neezhika, Alone, (an.) I alone. Thou alone. He or she alone. We alone (in.) We alone (ex.) Ye or you alone. They alone. To give these expressions a verbal form, the substantive verb, with its pronominal modifications, must be superadded. For instance, / am alone, &.C., is thus rendered : Neen neezhika nindyau, I am alone, x aumin. Keen neezhika keedyau, Thou art alone, x aum. Ween neezhika lyau. He or she is alone, &c. x wug. In the subjoined examples the noun ow, body, is changfed to a verb, by INDIAN LANGUAGES. 381 the permutation of the vowel, changing ow to auw, which last takei the letter d before it, when the pronoun is prefixed. . , I am a man, Thou art a man. He is a man, We are men, (in.) We are men, (ex.) Ye are men. They are men, Neen nin dauw. ' Keen ke dauw. Ween ah weeh. Ke dauw we min. Ne dauw we min. Ke. dauw min. Weenowau ah weeh wug. In the translation of these expressions "man" is used as synonomous with person. If the specific term inine, had been introduced in the origi- nal, the meaning thereby conveyed would be, in this particular connexion. I am a man with respect to courage &c., in opposition to effeminacy. It would not be simply declarative of corporeal existencCf but of existence in a particular state or condition. In the following phrases, the modified forms, or the signs only, of the pronouns are used : N' debaindaun, Ke debaindaun, O debaindaun, N' debaindaun-in, Ke debaindaun-in, Ke debaindaun-ewau, O debaindaun-ewau. I own It. Thou ownest it. He or she owns it. We own it (ex.) We own it (in.) Ye own it. They own it. These examples are cited as exhibiting the manner in which the pre- fixed and preformative pronouns are employed, both in their full and con- tracted forms. To denote possession, nouns specifying the things pos- sessed, are required ; and, what would not be anticipated, had not full examples of this species ol tc -lension been given in another place, the purposes of distinction are not >. ffected by a simple change of the pronoun, as / to mine, &c., but by a subformative inflection of the noun, which is thus made to have a reflective operation upon the pronoun-speaker. It is believed that sufficient examples of this rule, in all the modifications of inflection, have been given under the head of the substantive. But as the substantives employed to elicit these modifications were exclusively specific in their meaning, it may be proper here, in further illustration of an im- portant principle, to present a generic substantive under their compound forms. I have selected ior this purpose one of the primitives. Ie-au, is the abstract term for existing n'latter. It is in the animate form and declarative. Its inani- mate correspondent is ie-ee. These are two important roots. And they are SS2 INDIAN LANOUAOEB. found m combination, in a very great number of derivatiye wordc. It will be sufficient here, to show thoir connexion with the pronoun, in the pro- duction of a class of terms in very general use. Animate Forms. Poss. Obj. r Singular. Nin dye aum, Mine. Ke dyd aum, O dyd aum-un, Thine. His or Hers. Plural. Nin dyd auminaun, Ours, (ex.) Ke dyd auminaun, Ours, (in.) Ke dye aumewau. Yours. O dy6 aumewaun, Theirs, Inanimate Forms. Singular. Plural. f Nin dyg eem. Mine. Nin dyd eeminaun, Ours, (ex.) Poss. < Ke dyd eeminaun. Ours, (in.) f Ke dy6 eem. Thine. Ke dyfi eemewau, Yours. Obj. O dyd eem-un, His or Hers. O dyii eemewaun, Theirs. Poss. tn. In these forms the noun is singular throughout. To render it plural, as well as the pronoun, the appropriate general plurals ug and un or ig and in, must be superadded. But it must be borne in mind, in making these additions, "that the plural mflection to inanimate nouns (which have no objective case,) forms the objective case to animates, which have no number in the third person," fp- 30.] The particle un, therefore, which is the appropriate plural for the inanimate nouns in these examples, is only the objective mark of the animate. The plural of I, is nau?t, the plural of thou and he, wau. But as these inflections would not coalesce smoothly with the possessive inflections, the connective vowels i. and e. are prefixed, making the plural of I, inaun^ and of thou, &c. ewau. If we strike from these declensions the root ie, leaving its animate and inanimate forms au, and ee, and adding the plural of the noun, we shall then, — taking the animate declension as an instance, have the following formula of the pronominal declensions. Pron. Sing. Place of the Noun. Posessive inflection. Obj. inflec. to the noun sing. Connect, vowel. Plu. inflec. of the pronoun. Obj. inflec. n.plu. Plural of the Noun. Ne Ke aum aum aum aum - i - -e - - e- - naun - wau - wau -n - ig. - g- un To render this formula of general use, six variations, (five in addition INDIAN LANOUAOE0. 283 to the above) of the possessive inflection, are required, corresponding to the six classes of substantives, whereby aum would be changed to am, eem, im, drn, and oom, conformably to the examples heretofore given in treating of the substantive. The objective inflection, would also be some* times changed to een and sometimes to oan. Having thus indicated the mode of distinguishing the person, number, relation, and gender — or what is deemed its technical equivalent, the mu- tation words undergo, not to mark the distinctions of sex, but the presence or absence of vitality, I shall now advert to the inflections which the pro- nouns take for tense, or rather, to form the auxiliary verbs, have, had, shall, will, may, &c. A very curious and important principle, and one, which clearly demonstrates that no part of speech has escaped the trans- forming genius of the language. Not only are the three great modi- fications of time accurately marked in the verbal forms of the Ghippe- was, but by the inflection of the pronoun they are enabled to indicate some of the oblique tenses, and thereby to conjugate their verbs with ac- curacy and precision. The particle gee added to the first, second, and third persons singular of the present tense, changes them to the perfect past, rendering I, thou, He, I did— have— or had. Thou didst,— hast— or hadrt. He, or she did— have, or had. If gah, be substituted for gee, the first future tense is formed, and the perfect past added to the first future, forms the conditional future. As the eye may prove an auxiliary in the comprehension of forms, which are not familiar, the following tabular arrangement of them, is presented. First Person, I. Nin gee, ' I did — have — had. Nin gah, I shall — will. Nin gah gee, I shall have — will have. Ke gee, Ke gah, Ke gah gee. Second Person, Thou. Thou didst — hast — hadst. Thou shalt— wilt. Thou shalt have — wilt have. Third Person, He, or She. He or she did — has — had. He or she did — has — baa. He or she shall have — will have. Ogee, O gah, O gah gee, The present and imperfect tense of the potential mood, is formed by dau, and the perfect by gee, suffixed as in other instances. First Person, I. Nin dau, Nin dau gee. I may — can, &c. I may have — can have, See. 384 INDIAN LANOUAOSa. . , Second Person, Thou, Ke dau, Thou mayst — canit, dec. Ke dau gee, Thou mayst have— canst have, dfcc >' Third Person, He, or She. O dau. He or she may — can, &c. < ' ' O dau gee, He or she may have — can have, &c. In conjugating the verbs through the plural persons, the singular terms for the pronoun remain, and they are rendered plural by a retro- spective action of the pronominal inflections of the verb. In this manner the pronoun-verb auxiliary, has a general application, and the necessity of double forms is avoided. The preceding observations are confined to the formative or prefixed pronouns. The inseparable suffixed or subformative are as follows — Yaun, My. Yun, Thy. Id, or d, His, or hers. Yaung, Our. (ex.) Yung, Our. (in.) Yaig, Your. Waud, Their. These pronouns are exclusively employed as suffixes, — and as suffixes to the descriptive compound substantives, adjectives and verbs. Both the rule and examples have been stated under the head of the substantive, p. 43. and adjective, p. 81. Their application to the verb will be shown, as we proceed. 2. Relative Pronouns. In a language which provides for the distinc- tions of person by particles prefixed or suffixed to the verb, it will scarcely be expected, that separate and independent relative pronouns should exist, or if such are to be found, their use, as separate parts of speech, must, it will have been anticipated, be quite limited — limited to simple interrogatory forms of expression, and not applicable to the indica- tive, or declaratory. Such will be found to be the fact in the language under review ; and it will be perceived, from the subjoined examples, that in all instances, requiring the relative pronoun who, other than the simple interrogatory forms, this relation is indicated by the inflections of the verb, or adjective, &c. Nor does there appear to be any declension of the sep- arate pronoun, corresponding to whose, and whom. The word Ahwaynain, may be said to be uniformly employed in the sense of who, under the limitations we have mentioned. For instance. Who is there? Ahwaynain e-mah ai-aud? Who spoke? Ahwaynain kau keegoedood? Who tcld you ? Ahwaynain kau ween dumoak ? INDIAN LANQUAOES. 985 Who are you ? Who sent you 9 Who is your father ? Who (lid it? Whoso (log is it ? Whose pipe is that ? Whose lodge is it ? Whom do you seek ? Ahwaynain iau we yun 1 Ahwaynain wayn6nik? Ahwaynain kOs? Ahwaynain kau tAdung? Ahwaynain way dyid? Ahwaynain dOpwaugunid en-cu t Ahwaynain way weegewomid ? Ahwaynain nain dau wau bumud? Whom have you here ? Ahwaynain oh omau ai auwaud ? Not the slightest variation is made in these phrases, between who, whose, tutd whom. Should we wish to change the interrogative, and to say, he who is there ; ha who spoke ; he who told you, &c., the separable personal pronoun ween (he) must be used in lieu of the relative, and the following forms will be elicited. Ween, kau unnOnik, Ween, kau geedood. Ween, ai-aud e-mah. Ween, kau weendumoak. Ween, kau to dung. He (who) sent you. He (who) spoke. He (who) is there. He (who) told you. He (who) did it, &c. If we object that, that in these forms, there is no longer the relative pro* noun who, the sense being simply, he sent you, he spoke, &c., it is replied that if it be intended only to say, he sent you, &c., and not he who sent you, &c., the following forms are used. Ke gee unnOnig. He (sent) you. AinnOzhid, He (sent) me. AinnOnaud, He (sent) him, &c. Iau e-mau. He is there. Ke geedo. He (spoke.) Kegeeweendumaug, He (told) you. Ke to dum. He did it. We reply, to this answer of the native speaker, that the particle kau prefixed to a verb denotes the past tense, — ^that in the former series of terms, in which this particle appears, the verbs are in the perfect indicative, — and in the latter, they are in the present indicative, marking the dif ference only between sent and send, spoke and speak, &c. And that there is absolutely no relative pronoun, in either series of terms. We further observe, that the personal pronoun ween, prefixed to the first set of terms, may be prefixed with equal propriety, to the second set, and that its use or disuse, is perfectly optional with the speaker, as he may wish to give additional energy or emphasis to the expression. To these positions, after reflection, discussion and examination, we receive an assent, and thus the uncertainty is terminated. 286 INDIAN LANGUAGES. sons are made happy, and, in like manner, the suffixed personal pronouns plural, mark the distinctions between we, ye, they, &c. For it is a rule of the language, that a strict concordance must exist between the number of the verb, and the number of the pronoun. The termination of the verb consequently always indicates, whether there be one or many objects, to which its energy is directed. And as animate verbs can be applied only to animate objects, the numerical inflections of the verb, are understood to mark the number of persons. But this number is indiscriminate, and leaves the sense vague, until the pronominal suffixes are superadded. Those who, therefore, contend for the sense of the relative pronoun " who," being given in the last mentioned phrase, and all phrases similarly formed, by a succedaneum, contend for something like the following form of translation : — He makes them happy — him I or Him — he (meaning who) makes them happy. The equivalent for what, is Waygonain. What do you want ? What have you lost? What do you look for ? Wha* is this ? What will you have ? What detained you ? What are you making? What have you there ? Waygonain wau iauyun ? Waygonain kau wonetOyun ? Waygonain nain dahwaubundamun t Waygonain ewinain maundun ? Waygonain kau iauyun ? Waygonain kau oon dahme egOyun ? Waygonain wayzhetOyun? Waygonain e-mau iauyun ? The use of this pronoun, like the preceding, appears to be confined to simple interrogative form i. The word auneen, which sometimes supplies its place, or is used for want of the pronoun which, is an adverb, and has considerable latitude of meaning. Most commonly it may be considered as the equivalent for how, iu what manner, or at what time. What do you say? Auneen akeedOyun ? What do you call this? Auneen aizheneekaudahmun maun* dun?(l.) What ails you ? Auneen aindeeyun ? What is your name ? Auneen aizheekauzoyun? Which do you mean ; this or that? (an.) Auneen ah-owainud, vvoh-owgamau ewiddc ? Whichdoyoumean; this or that? (in.) Auneen eh eu ewaidumun oh-oo giimau ewaidde? Which boy do you mean ? Auneen ah-ow-ainud ? By adding to this word, the particle de, it is converted into an adverb of place, and may be rendered where. Where do you dwell? Auneende aindauyun? Where is your son ? Auneende ke gwiss ? Where did you see him? Auneende ke waubumud? \ INDIAN LANGUAGES. 287 Mainvvaindumey stances of our crossing this summit, and of the night's encampment at this spot. Each person was appropriately depicted, distinguishing the soldiers from the officer in command, and the latter from the scavans of the party. The Indians themselves were depicted without hats, this being, as we no- ticedf the general symbol for a white man or European. The entire record, of which a figure is annexed, accurately symbolized the circum- stances, and they were so clearly drawn, according to their conventional rules, that thu intelligence would be communicated thereby to any of their people who might chance to travel or wander this way. This was the object of the inscription. A /i ^\ i V\A t 'V^'\M/--'A '/ V 'V /\A- X A 7 "^' ' i Ontario, is a word from the Wyandot, or, as called by the Iroquois, duatoghie language. This tribe, prior to the outbreak of the war against them, by their kmdred the Iroquois, lived on a bay, near Kingston, which was the ancient point of embarkation and debarkation, or, in other words, at once the commencement and the terminus of the portage, according to the point of destination for all, who passed into or out of the lake. From such a point it was natural that a term so euphonous, should prevail among Europeans, over the other Indian names in use. The Mohawks and their confederates, generally, called it Cadaracqui — which was also their name for the St. Lawrence. The Onondagas, it is believed, knew it, in early times, by the name of Oswego* Of the meaning of Ontario, we are left in the dark by commentators on the Indian. Philology casts some light on the subject. The first syllable, o», it may be observed, appears to be the notarial increment or syllable of Onondio, a hill. Tarak, is clearly, the same phrase, written darac, by the French, in the Mohawk compound of Cadaracqui; and denotes rocks, i. e. rocks standing in the water. In the final vowels io, we have the same term, with the same meaning whicl; they carry in the Seneca, or old Mingo word Ohio.f It is descriptive of an extended and beautiful water prospect, or landscape. It possesses all the properties of an exclamation, in other languages, but according to the unique principles of the Indian grammar, it is an exclamation-substan- tive. How beautiful I [the prospect, scene present.] Erie is the name of a tribe conquered or extinguished by the Iroquois. We cannot stop to inquire into this fact historically, farther than to say, that it was the policy of this people to adopt into their different tribes of the confederacy, the remnants of nations whom they conquered, and that it was not probable, therefore, that the Eries were annihilated. Nor is it probable that they were a people very remote ni kindred and language from the ancient Sinondowans, or Senecas, who, it may be supposed, by crushing them, destroyed and exterminated their name only, while they strengthened their numbers by .this inter-adoption. In many old maps, this lake bears the name of Erie or "Oskwago." Huron, is the nom de guerre of the French, for the '-Yendats," as they are called in some old authors, or the Wyandots. Charlevoix tolls us that it is a term derived from the French word hure, [a wild boar,] and was applied to this nation from the mode of wearing their hair, "duelles Hures!" said tlic first visiters, when they saw them, and hence, according to this respectable author, the word Huron. • Vide a Reminiscence of Oswego. t The sound of i in this word, as in Ontario, is long e in the Indian. 302 oquois, against , which words, rding to From I among nd their ir name in early ! are left ne light irs to be I clearly, impound Iter. Irs isf whicl! iptive of sesses all ng to the i-substan- Iroquois. in to say, tribes of , and that Nor is it language iposed, by vhile they old maps, ndats," as evoix tolls boar,] and "auelles according NAMES OP THE AMERICAN LAKES. gQj When this nation, with their confederated, the Algonquins, or Adiron- daks, as the Iroquois called them, were overthrown in several decisive battles on the St. Lavi'rence, between Montreal and Quebec, and compelled to fly west; they at first took shelter in this lake, and thus transferred their name to it. With them, or at least, at the same general era, came some others of the tribes who made a part of the people called by the French, Algonquins, or Nipercineans, and who thus constituted the several tribes, speaking a closely cognate language, whose descendants are regarded by philologists, as the modern Lake-Algonquins. The French somethnes called this lake Mer douce, or the Placid sea. The Odjibwas and some other northern tribes of that stock, call it Ottowa lake. No term has been found for it in the Iroquois language, unless it be that by which they distingiiished its principal seat of trade, negociation and early rendezvous, the island of Michilimackinac, which they called Tiedonderaghie. Michigan is a derivative from two Odjibwa- Algonquin words, signify- ing large, i. e. large in relation to masses .n the inorganic kingdom, and a lake. The French called it, generally, during the earlier periods of their transactions, the lake of the lUinese, or Illinois. Superior, the most northwesterly, and the largest of the series, is a term which appears to have come into general use, at a comparatively early era, after the planting of the English colonies. The French bestowed upon it, unsuccessfully, one or two names, the last of which was Traci, after the French minister of this name. By the Odjibwa-Algonquins, who at the period of the French discovery, and who still occupy its borders, it is called Gitch-Igomee, or The Big Sea-water; from Gitchee, great, and guma, a generic term for bodies of water. The term IGOMA, is an abbreviated form of this, suggested for adoption. The poetry of the Indians, is the poetry of naked thought. They have neither ryhme, nor metre to adorn it. Tales and traditions occupy the place of books, with the Red Race. — They make up a kind of oral literature, Avhich is resorted to, on long winter evenings, fc^r the amusement of the lodge. The love of independence is so great with these tribes, that they have never been willing to load their political system with the forms of a regu- lar government, for fear it might prove oppressive. To be governed and to be enslaved, are ideas which have been con- founded by the Indians. I I !l n in Ml GEOGRAPHICAL TERMINOLOGY OF THE U. STATES, DERIVED PROM THE INDIAN LANGUAGE. Titte Extracts are made from " Cydapadia Indiaensis " a MS. work in proration. No. I. ■ Hudson River. — By the tribes who inhabited the area of the present County of Dutchess, and other portions of its eastern banks, as low down as Tappan, this river was called Shatemuc — which is believed to be a de- rivative from Shata, a pelican. The Minisi, who ir ';abited the west banks, below the point denoted, extending indeed over all the east half of New Jersey, to the flills of the Raritan, where they joined their kindred the Lenni Lenape, or Delawares proper, called it Mohicanittuck — that is to say. River of the Mohicans. The Mohawks, and probably the other branches of the Iroquois, called it Cahohatatea — a term of which the in- terpreters who have furnished the word, do not give an explanation. The prefixed term Caho, it may be observed, is their name for the lower and principal falls of the Mohawk. Sometimes this prefix was doubled, with the particle ha, thrown in between. Hatatea is clearly one of those de- scriptive and affirmative phrases representing objects in the vegetable and mineral kingdoms, which admitted as we see, in other instances of their compounds, a very wide range. By some of the more westerly Iro- quois, the river was called Sanataty. Albany. — The name by which this place was known to the Iroquois, at an early day, was Schenectady, a term which, as recently pronounced by a daughter of Brant, yet living in Canada, has the still harsher sound of Skoh-nek-ta-ti, with a stress on the first, and the accent strongly on the second syllable, the third and fourth being pronounced rapidly and short. The transference of this name, to its present location, by the Eng lish, on the bestowal on the place by Col. Nichols, of a new name, derived from the Duke of York's Scottish title, is well known, and is stated, with some connected traditions, by Judge Benson, in his eccentric memoir before the New York Historical Society. The meaning of this name, as derived from the authority above quoted, is Beyond the Pines, having been applied exclusively in ancient times, to the southern end of the ancient portage path, from the Mohawk to the Hudson. By the Minci, who did not live here, but extended, however, on the west shore above Coxackic, and even Coeymans, it appeal* to have been called Gaislitinic. The Mohegans, who long contin\ied to occupy the present area of Rens- Belear and Columbia counties, called it Pempotawuthut, that is to say, the City or Place of the Council Fire. None of these terms appear to have 304 GEOGRAPHICAL TERMINOLOGY OP THE U. STATES. 305 m found favour with the European settlers, and, together with their prior names of Beaverwyck and Fort Orange, they at once gave way, in 1664, to the present name. A once noted eminence, three miles west, on the plains, i. e. Trader's Hill, was called Isutchera, or by prefixing the name for a hill, Yonondio Isutchera. It means the hill of oil. Norman's Kill, which enters the Hudson a little below, the Mohawks called Towasentha, a term which is translated by Dr. Yates, to meauj a place of many dead. Niagara.— It is not in unison, perhaps, with general expectation, to find that the exact translation of this name does not entirely fulfil poetic pre conception. By the term 0-ne-aw-ga-ra, the Mohawks and their co-tribes described on the return of their war excursions, the neck of water which connects lake Erie with Ontario. The term is derived from their name for the human neck. Whether this term was designed to have, as many of their names do, a symbolic import, and to denote the importance of this communication in geography, as connecting the head and heart of the country, can only be conjectured. Nor is it, in this instance, probable. When Europeans came to see the gigantic falls which marked the strait, it was natural that they should have supposed the name descriptive of that particular feature, rather than the entire river and portage. We have been assured, however, that it is not their original name for the waler-fall, ahhough with them, as with us, it may have absorbed this meaning. Buffalo. — The name of this place in the Seneca, is Te-ho-sa-ro-ro. Its import is not stated. Detroit. — By the Wyandots, this place is called Teuchsagrondie ; by the Lake tribes of the Algic type, Wa-we-d-tun-ong : bqth terms sig- nify the Place of the turning or Turned Channel. It has been remarked by visiters who reach this place at night, or in dark weather, or are other- wise inattentive to the courses, that owing to the extraordinary involutions of the current the sun appears to rise in the wrong place. Chicago. — This name, in the Lake Algonquin dialects, to preserve the same mode of orthography, is derived from Chicagowunzh, the wild onion or leek. The orthography is French, as they were the discoverers and early settlers of this part of the west. Kaug, in these dialects is a porcupine, and She kaug a polecat. The analogies in these words are apparent, but whether the onion was named before or after the animal, must be judged if the age of the derivation be sought for. Tuscaloosa, a river of Alabama. From the Chacta words iushka, a warrior, and lusa black. — [Gallatin.] Aragiske, the Iroquois name for Virginia. AssARiGOA, the name of the Six Nations for the Governor of Virginia. OwENAGUNGAS, a general name of the Iroquois for the New England Indians. Otsseonteo, a spring which is the head of the river Delaware. 20 306 GEOGRAPHICAL TERMINOLOGY OF THE V. STATES. Ontonagon ; a considerable river of lake Superior, noted from earljr times, for the large mass of native copper found on its banks. This name is said to have been derived from the following incident. It is known that there is a small bay and dead water for some distance within its mouth. In and out of this embayed water, the lake alternately flows, ac- cording to the influence of the winds, and other causes, upon its level. An Indian woman had left her wooden dish, or Onagon, on the sands, at the shore of this little bay, where she had been engaged. On coming back from her lodge, the outflowing current had carried ofT her valued utensil. Nia Nin-do-nau-gon ! she exclaimed, for it was t curious piece of workmanship. That is to say — Alas ! my dish ! Chuah-nah-whah-iiah, or Valley of the Mountains. A new pass in the Rocky Mountains, discovered within a few years. It is supposed to be in N. latitude about 40''. The western end of the valley gap is 30 miles wide, which narrows to 20 at its eastern termination, it then turns oblique to the north, and the opposing sides appear to close the pass, yet there is a narrow way quite to the foot of the mountain. On the summit there is a large beaver pond, which has outlets both ways, but the eastern stream dries early in the season, while there is a continuous flow of water west. In its course, it has several beautiful, but low cascades, and terminates in a placid and delightful stream. This pass is now used by emigrants. Aquidneck. — The Narragansett name for Rhode Island. Roger Wil- liams observes, that he could never obtain the meaning of it from the na tives. The Dutch, as appears by a map of Novi Belgii published at Am* sterdam in 1659, called it Roode Eylant, or Red Island, from the autum- nal colour of its foliage. The present term, as is noticed, in Vol. III. of the Collections of the R. I. Hist. Soc. is derived from this. Incafatchow, a beautiful lake in the mountains at the sources of the river Hudson. — [Charles F. Hoffinan, Esq.] HousATONic ; a river originating in the south-western part of Massa- chusetts, and flowing through the State of Connecticut into Long Island Sound, at Stratford It is a term of Mohegan origin. This tribe on retiring eastward from the banks of the Hudson, passed over the High-lands, into this inviting valley. We have no transmitted etymology of the term, and must rely on the general principles of their vocabulary. It appears to have been called the valley of the stream beyond the Mountains, from oil, the notarial sign of wudjo, a mountain, atun, a generic phrase for stream or channel, and ic, the inflection for locality. Wea-nud-nec. — The Indian name, as furnished by Mr. O'Sullivan, [D. Rev.] for Saddle Mountain, '.iass ivjhusetts. It appears to be a deriva- tive from Wa-\ve-a, round, i. e. any thing round or crooked, in the inani- mate creation. Ma-hai-we ; The Mohegan term, as given by Mr. Bryant [N. Y. E. P.] for Great Barrington, Berkshire County, Massachusetts. GEOGRAPHICAL TERMINOLOOl OP THE U. STATES. 307 m early lis name I known ithin ite lows, ac- its level, sands, at I coming r valued us piece 18S in the sed to be 30 miles s oblique t there is it there is rn stream Eiter west, nates in a nts. )ger Wil« no the na id at Am- le autum- 3l. III. of :es of the if Massa- ng Island n retiring mds, into the term, t appears lins, from hrase for 'Sullivan, a doriva- the inani- Y. E. P.] Massachusetts. — This was not the name of a particular tribe, but a geographical term applied, it should seem, to that part of the shores of the North Atlantic, which is swept by the tide setting into, and around tho peninsula of Cape Cod, and the wide range of coast trending southerly. It became a generic word, at an early day, for the tribes who inhabited this coast. It is said to be a word of Narragansett origin, and to signify the Blue Hills. This is the account given of it by Roger Williams, v;ho was told, by the Indians, that it had its origin from the appearance of an island off the coast. It would be more in conformity to the general requisitions of ethnography, to denominate the language the New Eng- land-Algonquin, for there are such groat resemblances in the vocabulary and such an identity in grammatical construction, in these tribes, that we are constantly in danger, by partial conclusions as to original supremacy, of doing injustice. The source of origin was doubtless west and south west, but we cannot stop at the Narragansetts, who were themselves deriva- tive from tribes still farther south. The general meaning given by Wil- liams seems, however, to be sustained, so far as can now be judged. The terminations in ett, and set, as well as those in at and ak, denoted locality in these various tribes. We see also, in the antipenultimate Chu, the root of Wudjo, a mountain. Ta-ha-wus, a very commanding elevation, several thousand feet above the sea, which has of late years, been discovered at the sources of the Hudson, and named Mount Marcy. It signifies, he splits the sky. — [Charles F. Hoffman, Esq.] Mono, the name of a distinguished chief of New England, as it appears to be recorded in the ancient pictorial inscription on the Dighton Rock, in Massachusetts, who flourished before the country was cofcnized by the English. He was both a war captain, and a prophet, and employed the arts of the latter office, to increase his power and influence, in the former. By patient application of his ceremonial arts, he secured the confidence of a large body of men, who were led on, in the attack on his enemies, by a man named Piz-hu. In this onset, it is claimed that he killed forty men, and lost three. To the warrior who should be succesful, in this en- terprize, he had promised his younger sister. [Such are the leading events symbolized by this inscription, of which extracts giving full details, as in- terpreted by an Indian chief, now living, and read before the Am. Ethno- logical Society, in 1843, will be furnished, in a subsequent number.] Tioga. — A stream, and a county of the State of New- York. From Teoga, a swift current, exciting admiration. DioxDEROGA, an ancient name of the Mohawk tribe, for the site at the mouth of the Schoharie creek, where Fort Hunter was afterwards built [Col. W. L. Stone.] Ai-MoucHico, a generic name of the Indians for New England, as printed 308 AMERICAN ANTIdLITIES, ETC. on the Amsterdam map of 1659, in which it is stated that it was thus " by d inwoonders genaemt." (So named by the natives.) Irocoisu, a name bestowed in the map, above quoted, on that portion of the present state of Vermont, which lies west of the Green Mountains, stretching along the eastern bank of Lake Champlain. By the applica- tion of the word, it is perceived that the French were not alone m the use they made of the apparently derivative term "Iroquois," which they gave 10 the (then) Five Nations. Snow. Running water. A leaf. The radix of behind &c. NAMES OP THE SEASONS. The following are tne names of the four seasfons, in the Odjibwa tongue: Pe-bon, Winter, From Kone, Se-gvvun, Spring, '* Seeg, Ne-bin, Summer, " Anib, Ta-gwd-gi, Autumn, " Gvvag, By adding the letter g to these terms, they are placed in the relation of verbs in the future tense, but a limited future, and the terms then denote next mrUer, &c. Years, in their account of time, are counted by winters. There is no other term, but pe-boan, for a year. The yenr consists of twelvQ lunar months, or moons. A moon is called Geezis, or when spoken of in contradistinction to the sun, Dibik Geezis, or night-sun The cardinal points are as follows. J»J North, South, id) East, West, Ke wd din-ung. O shd wan-ung. Wd bun-ung. Kd be un-ung. a. Kevvadin is a compound derived from Ke-wa, to return, or come home, and nodin, the wind. b. Oshauw is, from a root not apparent, but which produces also ozau, yellow, &c. c. Waban is from ab, or wab, light. d. Kabeun, is the name of a mythological person, who is spoken of, in their fictions, as the father of the winds. The inflection ung, or oong, in each term, denotes course, olace, or locality. LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES OF THE WESTERN COUNTRY, A9SRI8SKD TO THE LATX WILLIAM L. STONE, EDITOR O* THE MEW TORE COMMERCIAL ADVERXIBEE. I. Wheeling (Va.), August 19th, 1843. I HAVE just accomplished the passage of the Alleghany mountains, in the direction from Baltimore to this place, and must say, that aside from the necessary fatigue of night riding, the pass from the Cumberland mountains and Laurel Hill is one of the easiest and most free from danger of any known to me in this vast range. An excellent railroad now extends from Baltimore, by Frederick and Harper's Ferry, up the Potomac valley and its north branch quite to Cumberland, which is seated just under the mountains, whose peaks would seem to bar all farther approach. The national road finds its way, however, through a gorge, and winds about where " Alps on Alps arise," till the whole vast and broad-backed elevation is passed, and we descend west, over a smooth, well constructed macadamized road, with a velocity which is some compensation for the toil of winding our way up. Uniontown is the first principal place west. The Monongahela is crossed at Browns- ■ ville, some forty miles above Pittsburgh, whence the road, which is everywhere well made and secured with fine stone bridges, culverts and viaducts, winds around a succession of most enchanting hills, till it enters a valley, winds up a few more hills, and brings the travellers out, on the banks of the Ohio, at this town 309 310 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES The entire distance from the head of the Chesapcnke to the waters of the Ohio is not essentially different from three hundred miles. We were less than two days in passing it, twenty-six hours of which, part night and part day, were spent in post-coaches between Cumberland and this place. Harper's Ferry is an impressive scene, but less so than it would be to a tourist who had not his fancy excited by injudicious descriptions. To me, the romance was quite taken away by driving into it with a tremendous clattering power of steam. The geological structure of this section of country, from water to water, is not without an impressive lesson. In rising from the Chesapeake waters the strati- fied rocks are lifted up, pointing west, or towards the Alleghanies, and after crossin.^ the summit they point east, or directly contrary, like the two sides of the roof of a house, and leave the inevitable conclusion that the Alleghanies have been lifted up by a lateral rent, as it were, at the relative point of the ridge pole. It is in this way that the granites and their congeners have been raised up into their present elevations. I did not see any evidence of thai wave-like or undulatory structure, which was brought forward as a thoory last year, in an able paper for warded by Professor Rogers, and read at the meeting of the British Asso- ciation for the Advancement of Science at Manchester. No organic remains are, of course, visible, in this particular section, at least until we strike the coal and iron-stone formation of Pittsburgh. But I have been renewedly impressed with the opinion, so very opposite to the present geological theory, that less than seven thousand years is suffi- cient, on scientific principles, to account for all the phenomena of fossil plants, shells, bones luJ organic remains, as well as the displacements, disruptions, subsidences and rising of strata, and other evidences of extensive physical changes and disturbances on the earth's surface. And ' I hope to live to see some American geologist build up a theory on just philosophical and scientific principles, which shall bear the test of truth. But you will, perhaps, be ready to think that I have felt more interest in the impressions of plants in stone, than is to be found in the field of waving corn before the eye. 1 have, however, by no means neglected the latter ; and can assure you that the crops of corn, wheat and other grains, throughout Maryland, Pennsylvania and Western Virginia, are excellent. Even the highest valleys in the Alleghanies are covered with crops of corn, or fields of stacked wheat and other grains. Gene- rally, the soil west of the mountains is more fertile. The influence of the great western limestones, as one of its original materials, and of the oxide of iron, is clearly denoted in heavier and more thrifty cornfields along the Monongahela and Ohio valleys. Of the Ohio River itself, one who had seen it in its full flow, in April and May, would hardly recognize it now. Shrunk in a volume far below its noble banks, with long spits of sand and gravel running almost OP THE W TBBS COUNTRY. 311 amboaU f a >y stage, to n Mounds- tcd to the re killed by I the fort at called the kets in the Eind look at t, they fired OT the pos- itagem what story of the spread of civilisation over the world a theatre so rife with partisan adventure, massacre and murder, as the valley of the Ohio and the country west of the Alleghany generally presented between the break- ing out of the American revolution, in '76, and the close of the Black Hawk war in 1832. The true era, in fact, begins with the French war, in 1744, and terminates with the Florida war, the. present year. A work on this subject, drawn from authentic sources, and written with spirit and talent, would be read with avidity and possess a permanent interest. The face of the country, from the Ohio opposite Wheeling to the waters of the Tuscarawas, the north fork of the Muskingum, is a series of high rolling ridges and knolls, up and dowu which the stage travels slowly. Yet this section is fertile and well cultivated in wheat and corn, particularly the latter, which looks well. This land cannot be purchased under foity or fifty dollars an acre. Much of it was originally bought for seventy-five cents per acre. It was over this high, wavy land, that the old Moravian missionary road to Gnadenhutten ran, and I pur- sued it to within six miles of the latter place. You will recollect this locality as the scene of the infamous murder, by Williamson and his party, of the non-resisting Christian Delawares under the ministry of Heckewelder and Ziesberger. » On the Stillwater, a branch of the Tuscarawas, we first come to level lands. This stream was noted, in early days, for its beaver and other furs. The last beaver seen here was shot on its banks twelve years ago. It had three legs, one having probably been caught in a trap or been bitten off. It is known that not only the beaver, but the otter, wolf and fox, will bite off a foot, to escape the iron jaws of a trap. It has been said, but I know not on what good authority, that the hare will do the same. We first struck the Ohio canal at Dover. It is in every respect a well constructed work, with substantial locks, culverts and viaducts. It is fifty feet wide at the top, and is more than adequate for all present purposes. It pursues the valley of the Tuscarawas up to the summit, by which it is connected with the Cuyahuga, whose outlet is at Cleve- land. Towns and villages have sprung up along its banks, where before there was a wilderness. Nothing among them impressed me more than the town of Zoar, which is exclusively settled by Germans. There seems something of the principles of association — one of the fallacies of the age — in its large and single town store, hotel, &c., but I do not know how far they may extend. Individual property is held. The evidences of thrift and skill, in cultivation and mechanical and mill work, are most striking. Every dwelling here is surrounded with fruit and . fruit trees. The botanical garden and hot-house are on a large scale, and exhibit a favorable specimen of the present state of horticulture. 316 LETTERS ON THE ANTIQUITIES One of the assistants very kindly plucked for me some fine fruit, and voluntarily offered it. Zoar is quite a place of resort as a ride for the neighboring town^, I may remark, en passanty that there is a large proportion of German population throughout Ohio. They are orderly, thrifty and industrious, and fall readily into our political system and habits. Numbers of them are well educated in the German. They embrace Lutherans as well as Roman Catholics, the latter predomi- nating. Among the towns which have recently sprung up on the line of the canal, not the least is the one from which I date this letter. The name of the noted French divine (Massillon) was affixed to an uncultivated spot, by some Boston gentlemen, some twelve or fourteen years ago. It is now one of the most thriving, city-looking, business places in the interior of Ohio. In the style of its stores, mills and architecture, it reminds the visitor of that extraordinary growth and spirit which marked the early years of the building of Rochester. It numbers churches for Episcopalians, Baptists, Methodists and Presbyterians, and also Lu- therans and Romanists. About three hundred barrels of flour can be turned out per diem, by its mills. It is in the greatest wheat-growing county in Ohio (Stark), but is not the county-seat, which is at Canton V. Detroit, Sept. 15th, 1843. In passing from the interior of Ohio toward Lake Erie, the face of the country exhibits, in the increased size and number of its boulder stones, evidences of the approach of the traveller toward those localities of sienites and other crystalline rocks, from which these erratic blocks and water-worn masses appear to have been, in a remote age of our planet, removed. The soil in this section has a freer mixture of the broken down slates, of which portions are still in place on the shores of Lake Erie. The result is a clayey soil, less favorable to wheat and Indian corn. We came down the cultivated valley of the Cuyahoga, and reached the banks of the lake at use the quaint langaagwuf the narrntor, " if between the lands towarus the north any passr^^might j^aiscovied." No such passage could however be found, and after devuimg ten or melve days to re-examinations of points and islands before but imperfectly discovered, or to the discovery of others, he returned to the river St. Lawrence, which he began to ascend : and on the 1st Sept. he came to the entrance of the Saguenay river, which is described as a bold and deep stream, entering the St. Lawrence, between bare, precipitous rocks, crowned with trees. Here they encountered four canoes of Indians, who evinced their charac- teristic caution and shyness. On being hailed, however, by the two cap- tive natives, who disclosed to them, their names, they came along side. But the journal records no further particulars of this interview. They proceeded up the river next day. The tides are noticed as being " very swift and dangerous," and the " current" is described as equalling that at Bordeaux. Many tortoises were seen at the " Isle of Condres," and a species of fish, which are described of equalling a porpoise in size, with a head resembling a greyhound's, and of unspotted whiteness. It may be vague to offer a conjecture from such a description as to the species of fish intended, but as the natives reported them to be " very savoury and good to be eaten," it may be inferred, that the sturgeon was meant. Many of the descriptions of the animal productions of America, given by Cartier, appear to be drawn up, rather with a view to excite wonder, in an age when wonders wore both industriously sought, and readily credited, than to convey any accurate idea of their true characters and properties. 340 CABTIERa VOYAGES OP DI0COTBBT. On the 7th of Sept. they reached the island now called Orleaui, where, it is said " the country of Canada beginneth." This island is stated to be t«fi leagues long, and fire broad, being inhabited by natives who lived ex- clusively by fishing. Having anchored his vessels in the channel, he made a formal landing in his boats, taking the two captives, Domaigaia, •nd Taignoagny, as interpreters. The natives at first fled, but hearing themselves addressed in their own tongue, and finding the captives to be their own countrymen, friendly intercourse at once ensued. The natives evinced their joy by dancing, and " showing many sorts of ceremonies." They presented Cartier, " eels and other sorts of flshes, with two or three burdens of great millet, wherewith they make their bread, and many great mush mellons." This " great millet" appears to have been xea rnais, which is here for the first time noticed, amongst the northern In- dians. The report of the arrival of their lost countrymen D. and T. seemed to have put all the surrounding villages in commotion, and Car* tier found himself thronged with visitors, to whom he gave presents, trifling in themselves, but of much value in the eyes of the Indians. The utmost harmony and good feeling appear to have prevailed. On the following day Oonnacona, who is courteously styled the Lord of Agouhanna, visited the ships, with 12 boats, or canoes — ten of which how* ever, he directed to stay at a distance, and with the other two and 16 men approached the vessels. A friendly conference ensued. The chief, when he drew near the headmost vessel began "to frame a long oration, moving all his body and members after a strange fashion." When he reached Cartier's ship, the captives entered into free discourse with him, imparting the observations they had made in France, and the kind treat- ment they had experienced. At this recital Donnacona was so much pleased, that he desired Cartier to reach him his arm. that he might kiss it. He not only kissed it, but " laid it about his neck, for so they use to do, when they will make much of one." Cartier then entered into the chief's boat, " causing bread and wjj; % i# >| ^i i b'^rtklit," and aftor rating and drinking with him and ! ■'•'l^ovYerR, lh<. mlervk"^.^^^!!^'^ J'V mutual satisfaction. The advanced state of the season, and the determination to visit Hoche- laga (now Montreal) before the ice formed, admonished Cartier to look for a harbour, which would aflbrd a safe anchorage for his largest ves- sels during the winter. He selected " a little river and haven," opposite the head of the island, to which he gave the name of " Santa Croix," being in the vicinity of Donnacona's village. No time was lost in bring- ing up and mooring the vessels, and driving piles into the harbour for their better security. While engaged in this work, further acquaintance was made with the natives, and their opinion of Cartier's visit, began to manifest itself, by which it appeared, that the friendship established with bim was rather apparent, than real About this time Taignoagny and CARTIER's VOYAOEa OF DISCOVERY. 341 Mre, u>be 1 ex- l, he gaia, uing to be ktivei niei." three many in xea rn In- indT. [ Cat- esents, The jordof ih how- 16 men f, when oration, hen he Lh him, id. treat- j much might hey use into the • ratinjr Hoche- to look rest ves- opposite Croix," in bring- rbour for laintance )egan to bed with gny and Domaigaia were suflfered to return to their villages, and it soon became apparent, that the knowledge they had acquired of the French, would be wielded to put their countrymen on their guard against encroachments upon their soil. Taignoagny, in particular, rendered himself obnoxious to the French, by his sujien and altered conduct, nnd the activity he aller- wards manifested in thwarting Cartier's design of visiting the island of FIcc'aelaga, although it appears, he had, pievious to leaving the vessels, promised to serve as a guide on the expedition. Donnacona himself opposed the projected visit, by argument, by artifice, and finally, by the extraordinary resource of human gids. His aversion to it first evinced itself by keeping aloof, and adopting a shy and suspicious demeanour. Cartier finding this chief, with T. and D. and a numerous retinue in his vicinity, " under a point or nook of land," ordered a purt of his men to follow him, and suddenly presented himself in the midst of them. After mutual salutations, Taignoagny got up and addressed him, in behalf of Donn: :ona, complaining; that they came armed, to which Cartier replied that, it was the c istom of his country, and a custom he could not dispense with. The bustle and heat of the introduction being over, Cartier played the part of a politic diplomritist, and was met by Don- nacona and his counsellors on i^iis own f,'uunds, and the whole interview, though it resulted in what is called '' a inarvellous steadfast league of friendship" can only be looked upon, as a strife, 'i which it is the object of both parties to observe >h:: must profonhd dissimulation. This " league" was ratified by the natives, with three loud crie<<, " a most hor- rible thing to hear" says the narrator. On the very next day Donnacona, attended with T. and D. and 10 or 12 " of the chiefest of the country, with more than 500 persons, men, wo- men and children," came or board of the vessels, at their mooringa, to protest against the intended voyage of exploration. Taignoagny opened the conference, by saying to Cartier, that Donnacona regr etted h is design of visiting Hpchelaga, and had forbid any of his peor^«' *^ecisiop I0ki made, aiid^'^ou the '^^.div.itv to go with him, as he hud promis-^j'iiu'ing to r , .e the voyage every way advantageous to him. A prompt. > .^fusal, on the part of T. and the sudden withdrawal of the whole collected muhitude, terminated this interview. On the next day Donnacona re-appeared with all his followers, bring- ing pre8«'ots of fish, singing and dancing. He then caused all his people to puss to one side, and drawing a circle in the sand, requested Cartier and his followers, to enter into it. This arrangement concluded, he be- gan an address, " holding in one of his hands a maiden child ten or twelve years old," whom he presented to Cartier, the muhitude at the same time giving three shouts. He then brought forward two male children, separately, presenting them in the same manner, and his people >1 # M 342 cartier's voyages of discovery. at each presentation, expressing their assent by shouts. Taignoagny, who by this time had drawn upon himself the epithet of " crafty knave" told the " captain" (as Gartier is all along termed,) that one of the children was his own brother, and that the girl was a daughter of Donnacona's ' own sister," and that this presentation, was made to him, solely with a view of dissuading him from his expedition. Gartier persisted in saying, that his mind was made up, and could not be altered. Here, Domai- gaia interposed, and said, that the children were offered as " a sign and token of good will and security," and not with any specific purpose of dissu. 'ing him from the expedition. High words passed between the two liberated captives, from which it was evident that one, or the other, had either misconceived or misrepresented the object of the gift. Gartier how- ever, took the children, and gave Donnacona " two swords and two cop- per basins," for which he returned thanks, and " commanded all his peo- ple to sing and dance," and requested the captain to cause a piece of artillery to be discharged for his gratification. Gartier readily improved this hint, to show them the destructive effects of European artillery, and at a signal, ordered twelve pieces, charged with ball, to be fired into the contiguous forest, by which they were so astounded that they " put them- selves to flight, howling, crying, and shrieking, so that it seemed hell was broke loose." These attempts to frustrate the purposed voyage, having failed, the na- tives endeavoured to put the captain's credulity to the test, and operate upon his fears. For this purpose three natives were disguised to play the part of " devils," wrapped in skins, besmeared, and provided with horns. Thus equipped they took advantage of the tide, to drop down along side Gartier's vessels, uttering words of unintelligible import as they passed, but keeping their faces steadfastly directed toward the wood. At the same time Donnacona, and his people rushed out of the wood to the shore, — attracting the attention of the ships' crews in various ways, and finally seized the mock "devils" at the moment of their landing, and carried them into the woods, where their revelations were uttered. .The result of this clumsy trick, was announced by Taignoagny and Domaigaia, who said, that their god " Cudruaigny had spoken in Hoche- laga" — importing ill tidings to the French, and that he had sent these three men to inform them that, there was so much ice and snow in the country, that whoever entered it, must die. After some interrogatives pro and con, in the course of which the power of " his Priests" #as oddly contrasted by the French commander with that of the "devils," both Taignoagny and Domaigaia coincided in finally declaring that Donna- cjna, "would by no means permit that any of them should go with him iO Hochelaga," unless he would leave hostages in his hands. All these artifices appear to have had but little effect on Gartier's plan. He told his freed interpreters, that if they would not go willingly, they CARTIERS VOYAGES OP DISCOVERT. might stay, and he would prosecute the voyage without them. Accord- ingly, having finished mooring his vessels, on the I9th September he set out to explore the upper portions of the river, taking his smallest vessel and two boats with fifty mariners, and the supernumerary gentlemen of hia party. A voyage of ten days brought him to an expansion of the river, which he named the lake of Angolesme, but which is now known under the name of St. Peter. Here the shallowness of the water, and rapidity of the current above, induced him to leave the " Hermerillon," and he proceeded with the two boats and twenty-eight armed men. The fertility of the shore, the beauty and luxuriance of the forest trees, mantled as they often were, with the vine loaded with clusters of grapes, the variety of water fowl, and above all the friendly treatment they every where re- ceived from the Indians, excited unmingled admiration. One of the chiefs whom they encountered presented Cartier with two children, his son and daughter, the latter of whom, being 7 or 8 years old, he accepted. On another occasion he was carried ashore by one of a party of hunters, as " lightly and easily as if he had been a child of five years old." Presents of fish were made, at every point, where he came in contact with the natives, who seemed to vie with each other in acts of hospitality. These marks of welcome and respect continued to be manifested during the remainder of the journey to Hochelaga, where he arrived on the 2d of October. A multitude of both sexes and all ages had collected on the shore to witness his approach, and welcome his arrival. They expressed their joy by dancing, " clustering about us, making much of us, bringing their young children in their arms only to have our captain and his com- pany touch them." Cartier landed, and spent half an hour in receiving their caresses, and distributed tin beads to the women, and knives to some of the men, and then " retured to the boats to supper." The natives built large fires on the beach, and continued dancing, and merry making all night, frequently exclaiming Aguiaze, which is said to signify " mirth and safety." Early the next morning Cartier having " very gorgeously attired him- self," and taking 20 mariners, with his officers and supernumeraries, landed for the purpose of visiting the town, taking some of the natives for guides. After following a well beaten path, leading through an oak forest, for four or five miles, he was met by a chief, accompanied by a re- tinue, sent out to meet him, who by signs gave him to understand, that he was desired to rest at that spot, where a fire had been kindled, a piece of civility, which it may be supposed, was something more than an empty compliment on an October morning. The chief here made " a long dis- course," which, of course, was not understood, but they inferred it was expressive of " mirth and friendship." In return Cartier gave him 2 hatchets, 2 knives and a cross, which he made him kiss, and then put it around his neck. 344 cartier's voyages of discovert. This done the procession advanced, without further interruption, to the " city of Hoch^laga," which is described as seated in the midst of culti- vated fields, at the distance of a league from the mountain. It was secured by three ramparts " one within another," about 2 rods in height, " cun ningly joined together after their fashion," with a single gate " shut with piles and stakes and bars." This entrance, and other parts of the walls, had platforms above, provided with stones for defensive operations. The ascent to these platforms was by ladders. As the French approached, great numbers came out to meet them. They were conducted by the guides, to a large square enclosure in the centre of the town, " being from side to side a good stone's cast." They were first greeted by the female part of the population, who brought their children in their arms, and rushed eagerly to touch or rub the faces and arms of the strangers, or whatever parts of their bodies they could ap- proach. The men now caused the females to retire, and seated them- selves foraally in circles upon the ground; as if, says the narrator, "some comedy or show" was about to be rehearsed. Mats were then brought in by the women, and spread upon the ground, for the visitors to sit upon. Last came the " Lord and King" Agouhanna, a palsied old man, borne upon the shoulders of 9 or 10 attendants, sitting on a " great stag skin." They placed him near the mats occupied by Cartier and his party. This simple potentate " was no whit better apparelled than any of the rest, only excepted, that he had a certain thing made of the skins of hedgehogs, like a red wreath, and that was instead of his crown." After a salutation, in which gesticulation awkwardly supplied the place of language, the old chief exhibited his palsied limbs, for the purpose of being touched, by the supposed celestial visitants. Cartier, although he appeared to be a man of sense and decision, on other occasions, was not proof against the homage to his imputed divinity ; but quite seriously fell to rubbing the credulous chiefs legs and arms. For this act, the chief presented him his fretful "crown." The blind, lame, and impotent, of the town were now brought in, and laid before him, " some so old that the hair of their eyelids came down and covered their cheeks," all of whom he touched, manifesting his own seriousness by reading the Gospel of St John, and " praying to God that it would please him to open the hearts of this poor people, and to make them know his holy word, and that they might receive baptism and Christendom." He then read a por- tion of the catholic service, with a loud voice, during which the natives were " marvellously attentive, looking up to heaven and imitating us in gestures." Some presents of cutlery and trinkets were then distributed, trumpets sounded, and the party prepared to return to their boats. When about to leave their place, the women interposed, inviting them to partake of the victuals they had prepared — a compliment which was declined, " because the meats had no savour at all of salt." They were followed CARTIER'S VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 345 out of the town by "divers men and women," who conducted the whole party to the top of the mountain, commanding a wide prospect of the plain, the river and its islands, and the distant mountains. Transported with a scene, which has continued to afford delight to the visitors of all after times, Cartier bestowed the name of " Mount Royal " upon this emmence— a name which has descended, with some modifications, to the modern city. Having satisfied their curiosity, and obtained such information respecting the adjoining regions, as their imperfect knowledge of the Indian lan- guage would permit, they returned to their boats, accompanied by a pro- miscuous throng of the natives. Thus ended, on the 3rd Oct. 1535, the first formal meeting between the French and the Indians of the interior of Canada, or what now began to be denominated New France. As respects those incidents in it, in which the Indians are represented as looking upon Cartier in the light of a divinity, clothed "'ith power to heal the sick and restore sight to the blind, every one will yield the degree of faith, which his credulity permits. The whole proceeding bears so striking a resemblance to " Christ heal- ing the sick," that it is probable the narrator drew more largely upon his New Testament, than any certain knowledge of the faith and belief of a savage people whose traditions do not reach far, and whose language, granting the most, he but imperfectly understood. As respects the de- scription of a city with triple walls, those who know the manner in which our Indian villages are built, will be best enabled to judge how far the narrator supplied by fancy, what was wanting in fact. A "walled city" was somewhere expected to be found, and the writer found no better place to locate it. Cartier no sooner reached his boats', than he hoisted sail and began his descent, much to the disappointment of the Indians. Favoured by the wind and tide, he rejoined his " Pinnace" on the follow- ing day. Finding all well, he continued the descent, without meeting much entitled to notice, and reached the " port of the Holy Cross," on the 1 1th of the month. During his absence the ships' crews had erected a breastwork before the vessels, and mounted several pieces of ships* can- non for their defence. Donnacona renewed his acquaintance on the fol- lowing day, attended by Taignoagny, Domaiga, and others, who were treated with an appearance of friendship, which it could hardly be ex- pected Cartier could sincerely feei. He, in return visited their village of Stadacona, and friendly relations being thus restored, the French pre- pared for the approach of winter. Winter came in all its severity. From the middle of Nov. to the middle of March, the vessels were environed with ice " two fathoms thick," and snow upwards of four feet deep, renching above the sides of the vessels. And the weather is represented as being " extremely raw and bitter." In the midst of this severity, the crews were infected with <* a strange and cruel disease," the natural consequence of a too licentioui ! , ^i: il r V. 346 carrier's rOTAGES OF OISCOTERV. intercourse with the natives. The virulence of this disorder exceeded any thing that they had before witnessed, though it is manifest, from the journal, that it was in its virulence only, that the disease itself presented any new features. A complete prostration of strength marked its com- mencement, the legs swelled, the " sinews shrunk as black as any coal." The infection became general, and excited the greatest alarm. Not more than 10 persons out of 110 were in a condition to afford assistance to the sick by the middle of February Eight had already died, and 50 were supposed to be past recovery. Cartier, to prevent his weakni s being known, as well as to stop further infection, interdicted all intercc irse with the natives. He caused that " every one should devoutly pre are himself by prayer, and in remem- brance of Christ, caused his ima. e to be set upon a tree, about a flight shot from the fort, amid the ice ai 1 snow, giving all men to understand that on the Sunday following, service should be said there, and that whoso- ever could go, sick or whole, should go thither in procession, singing the seven psalms of David, and other Litanies, praying, &c." The disorder, however, continued to spread till there were not " above three sound men in the ships, and none was able to go under hatches to draw drink for himself, nor for his fellows." Sometimes they were constrained to bury the dead under the snow, owing to their weakness and the severity of the frost, which rendered it an almost incredible labour to penetrate the ground. Every artifice was resorted to by Cartier, to keep the true state of his crews from the Indians, and he sought unremit- tingly for a remedy against the disorder. In this his efforts were at last crowned with success, but not till he had lost 25 of his men. By using a decoction of the bark and leaves of a cer- tain tree, which is stated to be "the Sassafras tree,"* the remainder of his crews were completely recovered. The decoction was drank freely, and the dregs applied externally, agreeably to the directions of Domaigaia, to whom he was indebted for the information, and who caused women to bring branches of it, and " therewithal shewed the way how to use it." The other incidents of the winter were not of a character to require no- tice. Mutual distrust existed. Cartier was in co"^tant apprehension of some stratagem, which the character and movements of his savage neighbours gave some grounds for. He was detained at the bay of the i^Joly Cross till the 6th May, 1536. The narrator takes the opportunity of this long season of inaction to give descriptions of the manners and cus- toms, ceremonies and occupations of the Indians, and to detail the informa- tion derived from them, and from personal observations respectmg the geo- graphical features and the productions of the country. * As the tree is afterwards stated to be " as big as any oak in France," it was pi '>ba bly the hox tlder, and not the sassafras, which never attained to much size. cartier's voyages of discovert. 347 Touching the faith of the Indians, it is said, they believed no ^hit in God, but in one whom they call Cudruiagni," to whom, they say, they are often indebted for a foreknowledge of the weather. And when he is angry, his displeasure is manifested by casting dust in their eyes. They believe that, after death, they go into the stars, descending by degrees to- wards the horizon, and are finally received into certain green fields, abounding in fruits and flowers. They are represented as possessing all property in common, and as •ing " indifferently well stored" with the useful "commodities" of the country — clothing themselves imperfectly in skins, wearing hose and shoes of skins in winter, and going barefooted in summer. The men labour little, and are much addicted to smoking. The condition of the women Uf one of drudgery and servitude. On them the labour of tilling the grounds, &c., principally devolves. The young women live a dissolute life, until marriage, and married women, after the death of their husbands, are con demned to a state of perpetual widowhood. Polygamy is tolerated. Both sexes are represented as very hardy, and capable of enduring the most in" tense degree of cold. In this there is little to distinguish the native of 1536 from that of the present day, if we substitute the blanket for the muttaios* and except the remark respecting the condition of widows, the accuracy of which, as it was made upon slight acquaintance, may be rea sonably doubted. It may also be remarked, that the condition of young women, as described by Cartier, was more degraded and vitiated than it is now known to be among any of the North American tribes. The geographical information recorded respecting the St. Lawrence and its tributaries is generally vague and confused. But may be referred to as containing the first notice published by the French of the Great Lakes. Cartier was told by Donnacona and others that the river origi- nated so far in the interior, that " there was never man heard of that found out the end thereof," that it passed through " two or three great lakes," and that there is " a sea of fresh water," alluding, probably, to Superior. At what time the ice broke up, is not distinctly told. It is stated that " that year the winter was very long," and a scarcity of food was felt among the Indians, so much so, that they put a high price upon their ven ison, &.C., and sometimes took it back to their camps, rather than pait with it " any thing cheap." Donnacona and many of his people withdrew themselves to their hunting grounds, under a pretence of being absent a fortnight, but were absent two months. Cartier attribuf - this long absence to a design of raising the country, and attacking him in his fortified positions — a design which no cordiality of friendship on the part of D. would prevent his entertaining, and which the latter gave some colour to * Roue of beaver skins. Eight skins of two year old beaver are requ'red to mak ■uch a robe. 11 i 348 cartier's voyages of disccvbrt. by neglecting to visit Cartier on his return with great numbers of natires not before seen, and by evading the attempts made to renewr an intercourse, by feigning sickness as the cause of his neglect. Cartier felt his ovm weakness, from the death of so many of his crew and the sickness of others,- and has recorded for his government on this occasion the proverb, that " he that takes heed and shields himself from all men, may hope to escape from some." He determined to abandon one of his vessels, that he might completely man and re-fit the others, and appears to have been diligent in making early preparations to return. While thus engaged, Donnacona (April 22,) appeared with a great number of men at Stadacona, and John Powlet, " who being best believed of those people," he sent to reconnoitre them in their principal villages, reported that he saw so many people, that " one could not stir for another, and such men as they were never wont to see." Taignoagny, whom he saw on this occasion, requested him to be- seech Cartier to take off " a lord of the country," called Agonna, who probably stood in the way of his own advancement. Cartier availed him- self of this request to bring on an interview with Taignoagny, and by flat- tering his hopes, Anally succeeded in the execution of a project he appears to have previously entertained. This was nothing less than the seizure of Donnacona, Taignoagny, Domaigaia, (his previous captives,) and " two more of the chiefest men," whom, with the children before received, mak- ing ten persons in all, he conveyed to France. This seizure was made on the 3d of May, being " Holyrood day," at a time when Cartier had completed his preparations for sailing. He took formal possession of the country, under the name of New France, by erecting a cross " thirty-five feet in height," bearing a shield with the arms of France, and the following inscription : " Franciscus primum dei gratia Francorum Rex regnat," a sentence upon which this unjustifiable outrage formed a practical con- ment. Three days afterwards he sailed from the port of the Holy Cross, leaving crowds of the natives to bewail the loss of their chiefs. And whose kindness led them to send on board a supply of provisions, when they found they could not effect their liberation. Finding the current of the St. Lawrence much swoln, he came to anchor at the isle of Filberds, near the entrance of the Sagnenay, where he was detained nine days. In the meantime many of the natives of Sagnenay visited the ships, and find ing Donnacona a prisoner, they presented him three packs of beaver. Or the 17th May, he made an unsuccessful attempt to proceed, but was for:ed back and detained four days longer, waiting "till the fierceness of the wa ters" were past. He entered and passed out of the gulph on the 21st, bu) encountering adverse winds, did not take his final departure from the New- foundland coast till the 19th June. He then took advantage of a favorable CARTIERS VUVAOES OF DISCOVERY. 349 irind, and performed the homeward voyage in 17 days. He entered the port of St. Malo, July 6, 1536, ftaving been absent less than 14 months, 8 of which had been passed in the St. Lawrence. THIRD TOTAOE. The reports and discoveries of Cartier were so well received by the King of France (Francis I.), that he determined to colonize the newly discovered country, and named John Francis de la Roche, Lord of Rob- erval, his " Lieutenant and Governor in the countries of Canada and Hochelaga." Cartier retained his former situation as " Captain General and leader of the ships,'* and to him was entrusted the further prosecution of discoveries. Five vessels were ordered to be prepared at St. Malo, and measures appear to have been taken to carry out settlers, cattle, seeds, and agricultural implements. Much delay, however, seems to have attended the preparations, and before they were completed, Donnacona and his companions, who had been baptized, paid the debt of nature. A little girl, ten years old, was the only person surviving out of the whole number of captives. It is seldom that a perfect harmony has prevailed between the leaders of naval and land forces, in the execution of great enterprises. And though but little is said to guide the reader in forming a satisfactory opi- nion on the subject, the result in this instance proved that there was a settled dissatisfaction in the mind of Cartier respecting the general ar- rangements for the contemplated voyage. Whether he thought himself neglected in not being invested with the government of the country he had discovered, or felt unwilling that another should share in the honors of future discoveries, cannot now be determined. It should be recollected that the conquest of Mexico had then but recently been accomplished (1520), and it is not improbable that Cartier, who had taken some pains to exalt Donnacona into another Montezuma, thought himself entitled to receive from Francis, rewards and emoluments in some measure cor- responding to those which his great rival, Charles, had finally bestowed upon Cortez. Whatever were the causes, four years elapsed before the ships were prepared, and M. La Roche, on visiting the vessels in the road of St. Malo, ready for sea, then informed Cartier that his artillery, munitions, and " other necessary things" which he had prepared, were not yet arriv- ed from Champaigne and Normandy. Cartier, in the meantime, had received positive orders from the King to set sail. In this exigency, it was determined that Cartier should proceed, while the King's Lieuten- ant should remain " to prepare a ship or two at Honfleur, whither he thought his things were come." This arrangement concluded, La Roche invested Cartier with full 350 OARTIER'S VOYAOES OF DISCOVERY. powers to act until his arrival, and the latter set sail with five shipSi " well furnished and victualled for two years," on the 23d of May, 1540. Storms and contrary winds attended the passage. The ships parted com- pany, and were kept so long at sea, that they were compelled to watei the cattle, &c., they took out for breed, with cider. At length, the ves* sels re-assembled in the harbor of Carpunt in Newfoundland, and after taking in wood and water, proceeded on the voyage, Cartier not deem- ing it advisable to wait longer for the coming of La Roche. He reached the little haven of Saincte Croix (where he wintered in the former voy- age), on the 23d of August. His arrival was welcomed by the natives, who crowded around his vessels, with Agona at their head, making inquiries after Donnacona and his companions in captivity. Cartier replied, that Donnacona was dead, and his bones rested in the ground — that thfe other persons had become great lords, and were married, and settled in France. No displeasure was evinced by the intelligence of Donnacona's death. Agona, on the contrary, seemed to be well pleased with it, probably, as the journalist thinks, because it left him to rule in his stead. He took off his head-dress and bracelets, both being of yellow leather edged with wampum, and presented them to Cartier. The lat- ter made a suitable return to him and his attendants in small presents, intimating that he had brought many new things, which were intended for them. He returned the chieftain's simple " crown." They then ate, drank, and departed. Having thus formally renewed intercourse with the natives, Cartier sent his boats to explore a more suitable harbor and place of landing. They reported in favor of a small river, about four leagues above, where the vessels were accordingly moored, and their cargoes discharged. Of the spot thus selected for a fort and harbor, as it was destined afterwards to become celebrated in the history of Canada, it may be proper to give a more detailed notice of Cartier's original description. The river is stated to be fifty paces broad, having three fathoms water at full tide, and but a foot at the ebb, having its entrance towards the south, and its course very serpentine. The beauty and fertility of the lands bordering it, the vigorous growth of trees, and the rapidity of vegetation, are highly and (I believe) very justly extolled. Near it, there is said to be " a high and steep clifF," which it was necessary to ascend by " a way in manner of a pair of stairs," and below it, and between it and tho river, an inter- val sufficiently extensive to accommodate a fort. A work of defence was also built upon the cliff, for the purpose of keeping the " nether fort and the ships, and all things that might pass, as well by the great, as by this small river." Upon the cliff a spring of pure water was discov- ered near the fort, " adjoining whereunto," says the narrator, " we found good store of stones, which we esteemed to the diamonds" (limpid quartz). At the foot of the cliff, facing the St. Lawrence, they found OARTIER'S VOYAOEB OF DISCOVERY. 85 iron, and at the water's edge " certain leaves of fine gold (mica) as thick ks u man's nail." The ground was so favorable for tillage, that twenty men labored at an acre and a half in one day. Cabbage, turnip, and lettuce seed, sprung up the eighth day. A luxurious meadow was found along the river, and the woods were clustered with a species of the native grape. Such were the natural appearance and advantages of a spot which was destined to be the future site of the city and fortress of Quebec,* " but to which he gave the name of * Charlesbourg Royal.' " Cartier lost no time in despatching two of his vessels to France, under command of Mace Jollobert and Stephen Noel, his brother-in-law and nephew, with letters to the king, containing an account of his voyage and proceedings, accompanied with specimens of the' mineral treasures he supposed himself to have discovered ; and taking care to add " how Mons. Roberval had not yet come, and that he feared that by occasion of contrary winds and tempests, he was driven back again into France." These vessels left the newly discovered town and fort of " Charlesbourg Royal" on the 2d of September. And they were no sooner despatched, than Cartier determined to explore the " Saults" or rapids of the St. Lawrence, which had been described to him, and partly pointed out, dur- ing his ascent to the mountain of Montreal. Leaving the fort under the command of the Viscount Beaupre, he embarked in two boats on the 7th of September, accompanied by Martine de Painpont and other *' gentle* men," with a suitable complement of mariners. The only incident re- corded of the passage up, is his visit to " the Lord of Hochelay" — a chief who had presented him a little girl, on his former visit, and evinced a friendship during his stay in the river, which he was now anxious to show that he preserved the recollection of. He presented the chief a cloak " of Paris red," garnished with buttons and bells, with two basins of " Laton" (pewter), and some knives and hatchets. He also left with this chief two boys to acquire the Indian language. Continuing the ascent, he reached the lower " Sault" on the 11th of the month, and, on trial, found it impossible to ascend it with the force of oars. He determined to proceed by land, and found a well-beaten path leading in the desired course. This path soon conducted him to an Indian village, where he was well received, and furnished with guides to visit the second " Sault." Here he was informed that there was another Sault at some distance, and that the river was not navigable — a piece of information that meant either that it was not navigable by the craft Cartier had entered the river with, or was intended to repress his further advance into the country. The day being far spent, he returned to his boats, where four hundred natives awaited his arrival. He ap- ^ Queiy — Is not the word Quebec a derivative from the Algonquin phrase JTebte— a term uttered in passing by a dangerous and rocky coast ? '! ■IH 362 CARTIBRl VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. peased their curiosity, by iDterchanging civilities, and distributing smal] presents, and made all speed to return to Charlesbourg Royal, where ha learned that the natives, alarmed by the formidable defences going oUf had intermitted their customary visits, and evinced signs of hostility This inference was confirmed by his own observations on the downward passage, and he determined to use the utmost diligence and precaution to sustain himself in his new position. The rest of this voyage is wanting. Hackluyt has, however, pre- served two letters of Jacques Noel, a relative of Cartier, written at St Malo in 1587, with the observations of latitude, courses, and distances, made by " John Alphonso of Xanctoigne," who carried out La Roche, Lard of Roberval, to Canada, in 1542, and a fragment of Roberval's nar* rat . ?, which indicated ihe sequel of Cartier's third and last voyage. F ;om the latter, it appears that Roberval entered the harbor of Bello Isle in Newfoundland, on the 8th of June, 1542, on his way to Canada ; and while there, Cartier unexpectedly entered the same harbor, on his return to France. He reported that he was unable " with his small company" to maintain a footing in the country, owing to the incessant hostility of the natives, and had resolved to return to France. He pre- sented the limpid quartz, and gold yellow mica, which he had carefully cherished, under a belief that he had discovered in these resplendent minerals, the repositories of gold and diamonds. An experiment was made the next day, upon what is denominated " gold ore," by which term the journalist does not probably refer to the " mica," considered, in an age in which mineralogy had not assumed the rank of a science, as " leaves of gold," but to pieces of yellow pyrites of iron, which it is men- tioned in the description of the environs of <' Charlesbourg Royal" Cartier had discovered in the slate rock. And the ore was pronounced " good" — a proof either of gross deception, or gross ignorance in the experi- menter. Cartier spoke highly of the advantages the country presented for settlement, in point of fertility. He had, however, determined to leave it. He disobeyed Roberval's order to return, and " both he and his company" secretly left the harbor, and made the best of their way to France, being *' moved," as the journalist adds, " with ambition, be- cause they would have all the glory of the discovery of these parts to themselves." January 21st, 1829. . • ^ . . ^ : .- „; o K M ■4 o H n t» a > » Ctf V ) < ^^ ::!i THB IlfFLUBNOE OF ARDENT 8PIRITB. 363 THE INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS ON THE CONDI- TION OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. 411 AODMM ftlAD BBrOKI THB OHIPriWA COUNTY TIMPBBAIIOI •OOIITT, AT ■AULT ITB-MARIK, MAY 8th, 1839. The effects of intemperance on the character of nations and individu- als have been often depicted, within a few years, in faithful colors, and by gifted minds. " Thoughts that breathe and words that burn" were once supposed to be confined, exclusively, to give melody to the lyre, and life to the canvass. But the conceptions of modem benevolence have dispelled the illusion, and taught us that genius has no higher ob- jects than the promotion of the greatest amount of good to man — that these objects come home to the " business and bosoms" of men in their every day avocations — that they lie level to every capacity, and never assume so exalted a character, as when they are directed to increase the •um of domestic happiness and fireside enjoyment — " To mend the morals and improve the heart" It is this consideration that gives to the temperance effort in our day, a refined and expansive character — " Above all Greek, above all Roman fame"— lU which has enlisted in its cause sound heads and glowing hearts, in all parts of our country — which is daily augmenting the sphere of its influ- ence, and which has already carried its precepts and examples from the little sea-board village,* where it originated, to the foot of Lake Superior. And I have now the pleasure of seeing before me a society, assembled on their first public meeting, who have " banded together," not with such mistaken zeal as dictated the killing of Paul, or assassinating Ceesar, but for giving their aid in staying the tide of intemperance which has been rolling westward for more than three centuries, sweeping away thou- sands of white and red men in its course — ^which has grown with the growth of the nation, and strengthened with its strength, and which threatens with an overwhelming moral desolation all who do not adopt the rigid maxim — " Touch not, taste not, handle not." ' The British critic of the last century little thought, while moralizing upon some of the weaknesses of individual genius, that he was uttering maxims which would encourage the exertions of voluntary associations of men to put a stop to intemperance. It wds as true then as now, that " in the bottle, discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice for courage, and bashfulness for confidence." It was as true then, as now, that the " neg- * Andover. 23 354 THE INFLUBNCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS H / ligence and irregularity'* which are the fruits of this habit, " if long con- tinuedf will render knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius con- temptible." "Who," he exclaims, "that ever asked succors from Bacchus, was able to preserve himself from being ensl^.ved by his aux- iliary ?"* And is there a species of servitude more pernicious in its in- fluence, more degrading in its character, more destructive of all physical and intellectual power, than the slavery of inebriation 1 The rage of the conflagration — the devastation of the flood — the futyofthe tempest, are emblematic of the moral fury of the mind under the influence of alcohol. It is equally ungovernable in its power, and destructive in its effectei. But its devastations are more to be deplored, because they are the devastations of human faculties — of intellectual power — of animal energy — of moral dignity— of social happiness — of temporal health— of eternal felicity. Intemperance is emphatically the parent of disease, mental and phy- sical. Its direct effects are to blunt the faculty of correct thinking, and to paralyze the power of vigorous action. Nothing more effectually takes away from the human mind, its ordinary practical powers of dis- crimination and decision, without which man is like a leaf upon the tem- pest, or the chaff before the wind. Dr. Darwin has aptly compared the effects of spirituous liquors upou the lungs to the ancient fable of Pro- metheus stealing Are from heaven, who was punished for the theft by a vulture gnawing on the liver.^ A striking allegory : but one which is not inaptly applied to characterize the painful and acute diseases which are visited upon the inebriate. Dr. Rush was an early advocate of the cause. He likened the effects of the various degrees of alcohol, in spir- ituous drinks, to the artificial mensuration of heat by the thermometer, and took a decided stand in pointing out its poisonous effects upon the system, in the generation of a numerous class of diseases, acute and chronic. If unhealthy food had been the cause of such disorders, the article would be rigidly shunned. No man would choose to eat twice of the cicuta ; to use bread having a portion of lime in : ; or to drink frequently of a preparation of sugar of lead. Even the intemperate would fear to drink of alcohol, in its state of chemical purity, for its effects would cer« tainly be to arrest the functions of life. Yet he will drink of this pow- erful drug, if diluted with acids, saccharine and coloring matter, water and various impurities, under the disguised names of wine, brandy, rum, malt liquors, whisky, cordials, and mixed potations, which all tend to pamper the natural depravity of the human heart, and poison its powers of healthful action. Alcohol is one of the preparations which were brought to light in the * Dr. Joboion. t Zoonomia* I ON THE INDIAN RACE. 855 •ge of the Alchemysts — when the human mind had run mad in a philo- sophic research after two substances which were not found in nature — the philosopher's stone, and the universal panacea. One, it was believed, was to transmute all substances it touched into gold, and the other, to cure all diseases. The two great desires of the world — wealth and long Kftj were thus to be secured in a way which Moses and the Prophets had never declared. A degree of patient ascetic research was devoted to the investigation of natural phenomena, which the world had not before wit- nessed ; and modern science is indebted to the mistaken labors of this race of chemical monks, for many valuable discoveries, which were, for the most part, stumbled on. So far as relates to the discovery of the alcoholic principle of grains, a singular reversal of their high anticipa- tions has ensued. They sought for a substance to enrich mankind, but found a substance to impoverish them : they sought a power to cure all diseases, but they found one to cause them. Alcohol is thus invested with great talisman ic power : and this power is not to create, but to destroy— not to elevate, but to prostrate — not to impart life, but death. How extensive its uses are, as a re-agent and solvent, in medicine and the arts — or if its place could be supplied, in any instances, by other sub- stances — are questions to be answered by physicians and chemists. But admitting, what is probable to my own mind, that its properties and uses in pharmacy and the arts are indispensable in several operations, in the present state of our knowledge— does this furnish a just plea for its ordi- nary use, as a beverage, in a state of health 1 No more than it would, that because the lancet and the probe are useful in a state of disease, they should be continued in a state of health. And do not every class of men who continue the use of ardent spirits, waste their blood by a diur- nal exhaustion of its strength and healthy properties, more injurious than a daily depletion ; and probe their flesh with a fluid too subtle for the physician to extract ? The transition from temperate to intemperate drinking, is very easy. And those who advocate the moderate use of distilled spirits are indeed the real advocates of intemperance. No man ever existed, perhaps, who thought himself in danger of being enslaved by a practice, which he, at first, indulged in moderation. A habit of relying upon it is imperceptibly formed. Nature is soon led to expect the adventitious aid, as a hale man, accustomed to wear a stafl*, may imagine he cannot do without it, until he has thrown it aside. If it communicates a partial energy, it is the energy of a convulsion. Its joy is a phrenzy. Its hope is a phan- tom. And all its exhibitions of changing passion, so many melancholy proofs of " the reasonable loul run mad." Angelic beings are probably exalted above all human weaknesses.— 356 THE INFIiUENOE OF iBDKN': SI 1KIT8 But if there be anything in their survey of out actions which causes them to weep, it is the sight of a drunken father in the domestic circle. Instructed reason, and sound piety, have united their voices in .decry- ing the evils of intemperance. Physicians have described its effects in deranging the absorbent vessels of the stomach, and changing the heal- thy organization of the system. Moralists have portrayed its fatal influ- ence on the intellectual faculties. Divines have pointed out its destruc- tive powers on the soul. Poetry, philosophy and science, have mourned the numbers who have been cut down by it. Common sense has raised up its voice against it. It is indeed — " a monster of so frightful mien, That to be hattd, intmA* but to be ttm.^' Like the genie of Arabic table, it has risen up, where it was least expfxjted, and stalked through the most secret and the most public apartments. And wiierever it has appeared, it has prostrated the human mind. It has silenced the voice of eloquence in the halls of justice and legislation. It has absorbed the brain of the scientific lecturer. It has caused the sword to drop from the hand of the military leader. It has stupefied the author in his study, and the pastor in his ueak. It has made the wife a widow in her youth, and caused the innocent 'Jnld to weep upon a father's grave. We dare not look beyond it. Hop* . ^w'ho has attended the victim of intemperance through all the changes of im downward fortune, and not forsaken him in any other exigency, h«f forsaken here. Earth had its vanities to solace him, but eternity has none. " Wounds of the heart— care, disappointment, loss, Love, joy, and friendship's fame, and fortune's cross, The wound that mare the flesh — the instant pain That racks the palsied limb, or fever'd brain, All— all the woes that life ca.n feel or miss, All have their hopes, cures, palliatives, but this— This onlij — mortal canker of the mind. Grim Belial's last attempt on human kind." If such, then, are the effects of ardent spirits upon the condition of civi- lized man, who has the precepts of instructed reason to enlighten him, and the consolations of Christianity to support him, what must be the influence of intemperate habits upon the aboriginal tribes ? I propose to offer a few considerations upon this subject. And in so doing I dis- claim all intention of imputing to one nation of the European stock, more than the other, the national crime of having introduced ardent spirits among the American Indians. Spaniards, Portuguese, Swedes, Dutch, Italians, Russians, Germans, French and English, all come in for a share of the obloquy. They each brought ardent spirits to the New World— a proof, it may be inf»rred, of their general use, as a drink in Europe, at the era of the discovery. Whatever other articles the first adventurers took to operate upon the hopes and fears of the new found people, distilled ON THE INDIAN RACE. 357 or fermented liquor appears to have been, in uo instance, overlooked or for- gotten. It would be easy to show the use made of them in the West In- dies, and in the southern part of our hemisphere. But our object is con- fined to the colonies planted in the North. And in this portion of the continent the English and French have been the predominating powers. It had been well, if they had predominated in everything else — if they had only been rivals for courage, wisdom and dominion. If they had only fought to acquire civil power — conquered to spread Christianity- negotiated to perpetuate peace. But we have too many facts on record to show, that they were also rivals in spreading the reign of intempe- rance among the Indians ; in gleaning, with avaricious hand, the furs from their lodges ; in stimulating them to fight in their battles, and in leaving them to their own fate, when the battles were ended. Nor do we, as Americans, affect to have suddenly succeeded to a better state of feelings respecting the natives than our English ancestry pos- sessed. They were men of sterling enterprise ; of undaunted resolution ; of high sentiments of religious and political liberty. And we owe to them and to the peculiar circumstances in which Providence placed us, all that we are, as a free and a prosperous people. But while they bequeathed to us these sentiments as the prep Miatives of our own national destiny, they also bequeathed to us their peculiar opinions respecting the Indian tribes. And these opinions have been cherished with obstinacy, even down to our own tiiiies. The noble sentiments of benevolence of the 19th century had not dawned, when we assumed our station in the family of nations. If they were felt by gifted individuals, they were not felt by the body of the nation. Other duties — the impevious duties of self-existence, national poveity, wasted resources, a doubtful public credit, a feeble population, harassing frontier wars, pressed heavily upon us. But we have seen all these c.ia.«:"» of national depres;:'. n passing away, in less than half a century. V\ iJi hem, it may be hoped, have passed away, every obsta- cle to >h:; exercise oi the most enlarged ( 'larity, and enlighianed philan thropy, res^f I til g the native tribes. Nationalit}" is sometimes as well characterized by small as by great things- -1 V names, as hy cus as. And this may be observed in the treatment of the Iri li^as, s^y ff.v as respects the subject of ardent spir- its. Under i\:e French gov?rnmept they were liberally supplied with brandy. Under the Engl* ;h, with Jamaica rum. Under the Americans, with whisky. Tliese 00/;!=' .u'te the fire, the gall, and the poison ages of In- dian history. Under this aiple curse thej* have maintained an existence in the face of a white population. But it has been an existence merely. Other nations are said to } ive had a golden age. But there has been no golden age for them. If there ever was a state of prosperity among them, which may be Ilk ^w^A to it, it was when their camps were crowned with temporal abundance — when the races of animals, furred and unfjir- 358 THE INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS red, placed food and clothing within the reach of all — and when they knew no intoxicating drink. To counterbalance these advantages, they wete, however, subject to many evils. They were then, as they are now, indolent, improvident, revengeful, warlike. Bravery, manual strength, and eloquence, were the cardinal virtues. And their own feuds kept them in a state of perpetual insecurity and alarm. The increased value given to furs, by the arrival of Europeans, created a new era in their history, and accelerated their downfall. It gave an increased energy and new object to the chase. To reward their activity in this employ- ment, ardent spirits became the bounty^ rather than the price. A two- fold injury ensued. The animals upon whose flrv^h they had subsisted Decame sc;\rce, and their own constitutions were undermined with the subtle stimulant. Historical writers do not always agree : but they coincide in their tes- timony respecting the absence of any intoxicating drink among the north- ern Indians, at the time of the discovery. It is well attested that the Azteeks, and other Mexican and Southern tribes, had their pulque, and other intoxicating drinks, which they possessed the art of making from various native grains and fruits. But the art itself was confined, with the plants employed, to those latitudes. And there is no historical evi- dence to prove that it was ever known or practised by the tribes situated north and east of the Gulf of Mexico. Dr. Robertson, an able and faith- ful describer of Indian manners, fully concurs with the Jesuit authors, in saying that no such beverage was known in the north, until Europeans found it for their pecuniary inf:erest to supply it. Aftev which, intoxica- tion became as common among the northern as the southern tribes.* Three hundred and forty years ago there was not a white man in America. Columbus discovered the West India Islands ; but Cabot and Verrizani were the discoverers of North America. Cartier and Hudson followed in the track. The first interview of Hudson with the Mohegan tribes, took place at the mouth of the river which now bears his name. It is remarkable as the scene of the first Indian intoxication among t'.fji. He had no sooner cast anchor, and landed from his boat, and passed a friendly salutation with the natives, than he ordered a bottle of ardent spirits to be brought. To show that he did not intend to offer them what he would not himself taste, an attendant poured him out a cup of the liquor, which he drank off. The cup was then filled and passed to the Indians. But they merely smelled of it and passed it on. It had nearly gone round the circle untasted, when one of the chiefs, bolder than the rest, made a short harangue, saying it would be disrespectful to return it untasted, and declaring his intention to drink off the potion, if he •hould be killed in the attempt. He drank it off. Dizziness and stu- ♦ Robertson's History of America. ON THE INDIAN RACE. 359 por immediately ensued. He sank down and fell into a sleep — the sleep of death, as his companions thought. But in due time he awoke— de- clared the happiness he had experienced from its effects — asked again for the cup, and the whole assembly followed his example.* Nor was the first meeting with the New England tribes very dissimi- lar. It took place at Plymouth, in 1620. Massasoit, the celebrated chief of the Pokanokets, came to visit the new settlers, not long after their landing. He was received by the English governor with military music ard the discharge of some muskets. After which, the Governor kissed his hand. Massasoit then kissed him, and they both sat down together. " A pot of strong water," as the early writers expressed it, was then ordered, from which both drank. The chief, in his simplicity, drank so great a draught that it threw him into a violent perspiration during the remainder of the interview."!" The first formal interview of the French with the Indians of the St. Lawrence is also worthy of being referred to, as it appears to have been the initial step in vitiating the taste of the Indians, by the introduction of a foreign drink. It took place in 1535, on board one of Cartier's ships, lying at anchor near the Island of Orleans, forty-nine years before the arrival of Amidas and Barlow on the coast of Virginia. Donnaconna, a chief who is courteously styled the '* Lord of Agouhanna," visited the ship with twelve canoes. Ten of these he had stationed at a distance, and with the other two, containing sixteen men, he approached the ves- sels. When he drew near the headmost vessel, he began to utter an earnest address, accompanied with violent gesticulation. Cartier hailed his approach in a friendly manner. He had, the year before, captured two Indians on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and he now addressed the chief through their interpretation. Donnaconna listened to his native lan- guage with delight, and was so much pleased with the recital they gave, th.it he requested Cartier to reach his arm over the side of the vessel, that hi might kiss it. He was not content with this act of salutation, but fondled it, by drawing the arm gently around his neck. His watch- ful caution did not, however, permit him to venture on board. Cartier, willing to give him a proof of his confidence, then descended into the chiefs canoe, and ordered bread and wine to be brought. They ate and drank together^ all the Indians present participating in the banquet, which appears to have been terminated in a temperate manner. J But like most temperate beginnings in the use of spirits, it soon led to intemperance in its most repulsive forms. The taste enkindled by wine, was soon fed with brandy, and spread among the native bands like a wildfire. It gave birth to disease, discord, and crime, in their most ♦ Heckewelder's Account of th« Indians, t Purchas' Pilgrims, Part iv., book x. i Hackluyt's Voyages. : =! ^1 360 THE INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS shocking forms. Too late the government and the clergy saw their error, and attempted to arrest it j but it was too deeply seated among their own countrymen, as well as among the Indians. Every effort proved unsuccessful ; and the evil went on until the Canadas were finally transferred to the British crown, with this " mortal canker" burning upon the northern tribes. Those who have leisure and curiosity to turn to the early writers, will see abundant evidence of its deep and wide-spread influence. It became the ready means of rousing to action a people averse to long continued exertion of any kind. It was the reward of the chase. It was the price of blood. It was the great bar to the successful introduction of Christianity. It is impossible that the Indian should both drink and pray. It was impossible theuj and it is impossible now : and the missionary who entered the forest, with the Bible and crucifix in one hand, and the bottle in the other, might say, with the Roman soliloquist, who deliberated on self-murder, "Myk'!-! and antidote are both before me : While tnia informs me { £ihall never die, 2Vrt» in a moment brings me to ray end." National rivalry, between the English and French governments, gave a character of extreme bitterness to the feelings of the Indians, and served to pr( .note the passion tor strong drink. It added to the horrors of war, and accumulated the miseries of peace. It was always a struggle be- tween these nations which should wield the Indian power ; and, so far as religion went, it was a struggle between the Catholic and Protestant tenets. It was a power which both had, in a measure, the means of putting into motion : but neither had the complete means of controlling it, if we concede to them the perfect will. It would have mitigated the evil, if this struggle for mastering the Indian mind had terminated with a state of war, but it was kept up during the feverish intermissions of peace. Political influence was the ever-present weight in each side of the scale. Religion threw in her aid ; but it was trade, the possession of the fur trade, that gave the preponderating weight. And there is noth- ing in the history of this rivalry, from the arrival of Roberval to the death of Montcalm, that had so permanently pernicious an influence as the sanction which this trade gave to the use of ardent spirits. We can but glance at this subject ; but it is a glance at the track of a tornado Destruction lies in its course. The history of the fur trade is closely interwoven with the history of intemporance among the Indians. We know not how to efll'ct the separation. Look at it in what era you will, the barter in ardent spirits constitutes a prominent feature. From Jamestown to Plymouth — from the island of Manhattan to the Lake of the Hills, the traffic was introduced at the earliest periods. And we cannot now put our finger on the map, to indicate a spot where ardent spirits is not known to the natives. Is it at the mouth of the Columbia, ^^'^' ON THE INDIAN RACE. 361 the sources of the Multnomah, or the Rio del Norde — the passes of the Rocky Mouataius on Peace River, or the shores of the Arctic Sea ? it is known at all these places. The natives can call it by name, and they place a value on its possession. We do not wish to convey the idea that it is abundant at these remote places. We have reason to believe it is sel- dom seen. But we also believe that in proportion as it is scarce — in pro- portion as the quantity is small, and the occasion of its issue rare, so is the price of it in sale, and the value of it in gift, enhanced. And just so far as it is used, it is pernicious in effect, unnecessary in practice, unwise in policy. The French, who have endeared themselves so much in the affections of the Indians, were earlier in Canada than the English upon the United States' coast. Cartier's treat of wine and bread to the Iroquois of the St. Lawrence, happened eighty-five years before the landing of the Pil- grims. They were also earlier to perceive the evils of an unrestrained trade, in which nothing was stipulated, and nothing prohibited. To pre- vent its irregularities, licenses were granted by the French government to individuals, on the payment of a price. It was a boon to superannu- ated officers, and the number was limited. In 1685, the number was twenty-five. But the remedy proved worse than the disease. These licenses became negotiable paper. They were sold from hand to hand, and gave birth to a traffic, which assumed the same character in tempo- ral affairs, that " indulgences" did in spiritual. They were, in effect, licenses to commit every species of wrong, for those who got them at *ast, were generally persons under the government of no high standard of moral responsibility ; and as they may be supposed to have paid well for them, they were sure to make it up by excessive exactions upon the Indians. Courier du hois, was the term first applied to them. Merchant voyageurj was the appellation at a subsequent period. But whatever they were called, one spirit actuated them — the spirit of acquiring wealth by driving a gainful traffic with an ignorant people, and for this purpose ardent spirits was but too well adapted. They transported it, along with articles of necessity, up long rivers, and over difficult portages. And when they had reached the borders of the Upper Lakes, or the banks of the Sasketchawine, they were too far removed from the influence of courts, both judicial and t'cclosiastical, to be in much dread of them. FguiIh, sUifcs, and murdi-rs ensued. Crime strode unchecked through lint iuitd. I'lvfiy linlian trader became a legislator and a judge. His word was not only a law, but it was a law which possessed the property of undergoing as many repeals and mutations as the interest, the pride, or the passion of the individual rendered expedient. If M'ealth was ac- cumulated, it is not intoyvdtul to infer that the pressing wants of the In- dians wore not vtlicvod — that the trade was not a very acceptable and irapoitivnl i>no to them, and that great peril and expense were not encoun- #1 iv- ' 1 362 TUB INFLUENCE OF ARDENT SPIRITS tered, and a high degree of enterprise displayed in its prosecution. But it is contended, that if real wants were relieved, wrtificial ones were cre- ated — that if it substituted the gun for the bow, and shrouds and blan- kets in the place of the more expensive clothing of beaver skins, it also substituted ardent spirits for water — intoxication for sobriety — disease for health. Those who entertain the opinion that the fall of Quebec, celebrated in England and America as a high military achievement, and the conse- quent surrender of Canada, produced any very important improvement in this state of things, forget that the leading principles and desires of the human heart are alike in all nations, acting under like circumstances. The desire of amassing wealth — the thirst for exercising power — the Dride of information over ignorance — the power of vicious over virtuous principles, are not confined to particular eras, nations, or latitudes. They belong to mankind, and they will be pursued with a zeal as irrespective of equal and exact justice, wherever they are not restrained by the enno- bling maxims of Christianity. Whoever feels interested in looking back into this period of our com- mercial Indian affairs, is recommended to peruse the published statistical and controversial volumes, growing out of the Earl of Selkirk's schemes of colonization, and to the proceedings of the North West Company. This iron monopoly grew up out of private adventure. Such golden accounts were brought out of the country by the Tods, the Frobishers, and the M'Tavishes, and M'Gillvrays, who first visited it, that every bold man, who had either talents or money, rushed to the theatre of action. The boundary which had been left to the French, as the limit of trade, was soon passed. The Missinipi, Athabasca, Fort Chipewyan, Slave lake, Mackenzie's and Copper Mine Rivers, the Unjigah and the Oregon, were reached in a few years. All Arctic America was penetrated. The British government is much indebted to Scottish enterprise for the ex- tension of its power and resources in this quarter. But while we admire the zeal and boldness with which the limits of the trade were extended, we regret that a belief in the necessity of using ardent spirits caused them to be introduced, in any quantity, among the North West tribes. Other regions have been explored to spread the light of the gospel. This was traversed to extend the reign of intemperance, and to prove that the love of gain was so strongly implanted in the breast of the white man, as to carry him over regions of ice and snow, woods and waters, where the natives had only been intruded on by the Musk Ox and the Polar bear. Nobody will deem it too much to say, that wherever the cUiTPnt of the fur trade set, the nations were intoxicated, demoralized, depopulated. The terrible scourge of the small pox, which broke out in the country north west of Lake Superior in 1782, was scarcely more fatal to the natives, though more rapid and striking in its effects, than the ON THE INDIAN RACE. 363 power of ardent spirits. Nor did it produce so great a moral affliction. For those who died of the varioloid, were spared the death of ebriety. Furs were gleaned with an iron hand, and rum was given out with an iron heart. There was no remedy for the rigors of the trade ; and there was no appeal. Beaver was sought with a thirst of gain as great as that which carried Cortez to Mexico, and Pizarro to Peru. It had deadened the ties of humanity, and cut asunder the cords of private faith.* lake the Spaniard in his treatment of Capolicon, when the latter had given him the house full of gold for his ransom, he was himself basely executed. So the northern chief, when he had given his all, gave himself as the vic- tim at last. He was not, however, consumed at the stake^ but at the bottle. The sword of his executioner was spirits — his gold, beaver skins. And no mines of the nrecious metals, which the world has ever produced, have probably been more productive of wealth, than the fur-yielding regions of North America. But while the products of the chase have yielded wealth to the white man, they have produced misery to the Indian. The latter, suffering for the means of subsistence, like the child in the parable, had asked for bread, and he received it ; but, with it, he received a scorpion. And it is the sting of the scorpion, that has been raging among the tribes for more than two centuries, causing sickness, death, and depopulation in its track. It is the venom of this sting, that has proved emphatically " the blight of human bliss ! Curse to all states of man, but most to this." Let me not be mistaken, in ascribing effects disproportionate to their cause, or in overlooking advantages which have brought along in their train, a striking evil. I am no admirer of that sickly philosophy, which looks back upon a state of nature as a state of innocence, and which cannot appreciate the benefits the Indian race have derived from the discovery of this portion of the world by civilized and Christian nations. But while I would not, on the one hand, conceal my sense of the advantages, temporal and spiritual, which hinge upon this discovery, I would not, on the other, disguise the evils which intemperance has caused among them ; nor cease to hold it up, to the public, as a. great and destroying evil, which was early introduced — which has spread extensively — which is in active operation, and which threatens yet more disastrous conse« quences to this unfortunate race. Writers have not been wanting, who are prone to lay but little stress upon the destructive influence of ardent spirits, in diminishing the native population, and who have considered its effects as trifling in comparison to the want of food, and the enhanced price created by this want.f The * The murder of Wadin, the cold-blooded assassination of Keveny, and the shoot* iog of Semple, are appealed to, as justifying the force of this remark. t The North American Review. Sanford's History of the United States, before the Revoluticn. if I 4V M 364 THE IKPLUFNOB OK ARDENT 8P^«> T8 abundance or scarcity of foo(^ is a principle in political economy, which is assumed as the primary cause of depopulation. And, us such, we see no reason to question its soundness. If the value of la>>or, the price of clothing and other necessary commodities, can be referred to the varying prices of vegetable and animal food, we do not see liiat the fact of a people's being civilized or uncivilized, should invalidate the principle ; and when we turn our eyea ii^ion the forest we see that it does not. A pound of beaver, which in 1/30, when animal food was abundant, was worth here about a French crown, is now, when food is scarce and dear, worth from five to six dollars ; and consequently, one pound of beaver now will procure as much food and clothing as five pounds of the like quality of beaver then. It is the failure of the race of furred ani- mals, and the want of industry in hunting them, that operate to produce depopulation. And what, we may ask, has so powerful an effect in destroying the energies of the hunter, as the vice of intemperance ? Stupefying his mind, and enervating his body, it leaves him neither the vigor to provide for his temporary wants, nor the disposition to inquire into those which regard eternity. His natural affections are blunted, and all the sterner and nobler qualities of the Indian mind prostrated. His family are neglected. They first become objects of pity to our citizens, and then of disgust. The want of wholesome food and comfortable clothing produce disease. He falls at last himself, the victim of disease, superinduced from drinking. Such is no exaggerated picture of the Indian, who is in a situation to contract the habit of intemperance. And it is only within the last year or eighteen months — it is only since the operation of Temperance princi- ples has been felt in this remote place, that scenes of this kind have be- come unfrequent, and have almost ceased in our village, and in our set- tlement. And when we look abroad to other places, and observe the spread of temperance in the wide area from Louisiana to Maine, we may almost fancy we behold the accomplishment of Indian fable. It is related, on the best authority, that among the extravagances of Spanish enter- prise, which characterized the era of the discovery of America, the na- tives had reported the existence of a fountain in the interior of one of the islands, possessed of such magical virtues, that whoever bathed in its Waters would be restored to the bloom of youth and the vigor of man- hood. In search of this wonderful fountain historians affirm, that Ponce de Leon and his followers ranged the island. They only, however, drew upon themselves the charge of credulity. May we not suppose this tale of the salutary fountain to be an Indian allegory of temperance ? It will, at least, admit of this application. And let us rejoice that, in the era of temperance, we ha'e found the spring which will restore bloom to the cheeks of the young man, and the panacea that will remove dis- ease from the old. ON THE INDIAN RACE. 365 When we consider the effects which our own humble efforts as inha- bitants of a distant post have produced in this labor of humanity, have we not every encouragement to persevere ? Is it not an effort sanctioned by the noblest affections of our nature — by the soundest principles of philanthropy — by the highest aspirations of Christian benevolence ? Is it not the work of patriots as well as Christians ? of good citizens as well as good neighbors ? Is it not a high and imperious duty to rid our land of the foul stain of intemperance ? Is it a duty too hard for us to accom- plish ? Is there anything unreasonable in the voluntary obligations by which we are bound ? Shall we lose property or reputation by laboring in the cause of temperance ? Will the debtor be less able to pay his debts, or the creditor less able to collect them ? Shall v injure man, woman or child, by dashing away the cup of intoxicatuii-, r Shall we incur the charge of being denominated fools or madmen i Shall we vio- late nM\ inciples of morality, or any of the maxims of Christianity ? Shall M ihe risk of diminishing the happiness of others, or putting our own .u jeopardy ? Finally, shall we injure man — shall we offend God? If neither of these evils will result — if the highest principles of virtue and happiness sanction the measure — if learning applauds it, and religion approves it — if good must result from its success, and injury cannot accrue from its failure, what further motive need we to impel us onward, to devote our best faculties in the cause, and neither to faint nor rest till the modern hydra of intemperance be expelled from our country ? rm I I ■ VENERABLE INDIAN CHIEF. I The Cattaraugus (N. Y.) Whig, of a late date, mentions that Gov. Blacksnake, the Grand Sachem of the Indian nation, was recently in that place. He resides on the Alleghany Reservation, about twenty miles from the village ; is the successor of Corn Planter, as chief of the Six Nations — a nephew of Joseph Brant, and uncle of the celebrated Red Jacket. He was born near Cayuga Lake in 1749, being now ninety-six years of age. He was in the battle of Fort Stanwix, Wyoming, &c., and was a warm friend of Gen. Washington during the Revolution. He was in Washington's camp forty days at the close of the Revolution — was appointed chief by him, and now wears suspended from his neck a beau- tiful silver medal presented to him by Gen. Washington, bearing dato 1796. % \i\ ^!^v!:.. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (M*-3) // 1.0 I.I 1^128 |2.5 1^ Uii |2.2 lU 114 I 2.0 1.8 L25 IIIU IIIIII.6 Ph. "m ^ 0% /a / ^ ^■'v > V V Photographic Sciences Coiporation ,\ iV •>^ <^ *% .V ^ 23 WEST MAIN STRfiT WEBSTER, NY. MS80 (716) 873-4503 sr u FATE OF THE RED RACE IN AMERICA: THE POLICY PURSUED TOWARDS THEM BY OOVERNMBNT| AND THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE TRIBES WHO HAVE REMOVED WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI.* The removal of the Indian Tribes within our State boundaries, to the west of the Mississippi, and their present condition and probable ulti- mate fate, have been the topic of such frequent speculation, misunder- standing, and may we not add, misrepresentation, within a few years past, both at home and abroad, that we suppose some notice of them, and particularly of the territory they occupy, and the result, thus £eur, of their experiment in self-government, drawn from authentic sources, may prove not unacceptable to the public. The nomadic and hunter states of society never embraced within themselves the elements of perpetuity. They have ever existed, in- deed, like a vacuum in the system of nature, which is at every moment in peril, and subject to be filled up and destroyed by the in-rushing of the surrounding element. Civilisation is that element, in relation to non -agricultural and barbaric tribes, and the only question with respect to their continuance as distinct communities has been, how long they could resist its influence, and at what particular era this influence should change, improve, undermine, or destroy them. It is proved by history, that two essentially different states of society, with regard to art and civilisation, cannot both prosperously exist together, at the same time. The one which is in the ■ ascendant will absorb and destroy the other. A wolf and a lamb are not more antagonistical in the system of organic being, than civilisation and barbarism, in the great ethno- logical impulse of man's difiusion over the globe. In this impulse, bar- barism may temporarily triumph, as we see it has done by many striking examples in the history of Asia and Europe. But such triumphs have been attended with this remarkable result, that they have, in the end, reproduced the civilisation which they destroyed. Such, to quote no other example, was the efiect of the prostration of the Roman type of civilisation by the warlike and predatory tribes of Northern Europe, Letters and Christianity were both borne down, for a while, by this irre* nstible on-rush ; but they were thereby only the more deeply implanted * Democratic Review, 1844. 366 INDIAN POLICY. 367 y in the strattun of preparing civilisation ; and in due time, like the grain that rots before it reproduces, sprang up with a vigor and freshnesS} which is calculated to be enduring, and to fill the globe. Civilisation may be likened to an absorbent body, placed in contact with an anti-absorbent, for some of the properties of which it has strong affinities. It will draw these latter so completely out, that, to use a strong phrase, it may be said to eat them up. Civilisation is found to derive some of the means of its perfect development from letters and the arts, but it cannot permanently exist without the cultivation of the soil. It seems to have been the fundamental principle on which the species were originally created, that they should derive their sustenance and means of perpetuation from this industrial labor. Wherever agri- cultural tribes have placed themselves in juxtaposition to hunters and erratic races, they have been found to withdraw from the latter the means of their support, by narrowing the limits of the forest and plains, upon the wild animals of which, both carnivorous and herbivorous, hun- ters subsist. When these have been destroyed, the grand resources of these hunters and pursuers have disappeared. Wars, the introduction of foreign articles or habits of injurious tendency, may[accelerate the period of their decline — a result which is still further helped forward by inter- nal dissensions, and the want of that political foresight by which civil nations exist. But without these, and by the gradual process of the narrowing down of their hunting grounds, and the conversion of the dominions of the bow and arrow to those of the plough, this result must inevitably ensue. There is no principle of either permanency or prosperity in the savage state. It is a question of curious and philosophic interest, however, to ob- serve the varying and very unequal effects, which different types of civilisation have had upon the wild hordes of men with whom it has come into contact. And still more, perhaps, to trace the original effici ency, or effeminacy of the civil type, in the blood of predominating races, who have been characterized by it. In some of the European stocks this type has remained nearly stationary since it reached the chivalric era. In others, it had assumed a deeply commercial tone, and confined itself greatly to the drawing forth, from the resources of new countries, those objects which invigorate trade. There is no stock, having claims to a generic nationality, in which the principle of progress has, from the outset, been so strongly marked, as in those hardy, brave and athletic tribes in the north of Europe, for whom the name of Teu- tons conveys, perhaps, a more comprehensive meaning, than the com- paratively later one of Saxons. The object of this race appears con- tinually to be, and to have been, to do more than has previously been done ; to give difiusion and comprehension to designs of improrement, and thus, by perpetually putting forth new efforts, on the globe, to cany 368 INDIAN POLI0T* on man to nis highest destiny. The same impulsive aspirations of tht spirit of progress, the same energetic onwardness of principle which overthrew Rome, overthrew, at another period, the simple institution! of the woad-stained Britons ; and, whatever other aspect it bears, we must attribute to the same national energy the modern introduction of European civilisation into Asia. When these principles come to be applied to America, and to be tested by its native tribes, we shall clearly perceive their appropriate and distinc- tive effects. In South America, where the type of chivalry marked the discoverers, barbarism has lingered among the natives, without being destroyed, for three centuries. In Canada, which drew its early colonists exclusively from the feudal towns and seaports, whose inhabit- ants had it for a maxim, that they had done all that was required of good citizens, when they had done all that had been previously done, the native tribes have remained perfectly stationary. With the exception of slight changes in dress, and an absolute depreciation in morals, they are essentially at this day what they were in the respective eras of Car- tier and Champlain. In the native monarchies of Mexico and PerU| Spain overthrew the gross objects of idolatrous worship, and intercalated among these trib s the arts and some of the customs of the 16th century. With a very large proportion of the tribes but little was attempted be- yond military subjugation, and less accomplished. The seaboard tribes received the ritual of the Romish church. Many of those in the inte rior, comprehending the higher ranges of the Andes and Cordilleras, re- main to this day in the undisturbed practice of their ancient superstitions and modes of subsistence. It is seen from recent discoveries, that there are vast portions of the interior of the country, unknown, unexplored and undescribed. We are just, indeed, beginning to comprehend the true character of the indigenous Indian civilisation of the era of the disco- very. These remarks are sufficient to show how feebly the obligations of letters and Christianity have been performed, with respect to the red men, by the colonists of those types of the early European civilisation, who rested themselves on feudal tenures, m'litary renown, and an eccle- siastical system of empty ceremonies. It was with very different plans and principles that North America was colonized. We consider the Pilgrims as the embodiment of the true ancient Teutonic type. Their Alaric and Brennus were found in the pulpit and in the school-room. They came with high and severe notions of civil and religious liberty. It was their prime object to sus- tain themselves, not by conquest, but by cultivating the soil. To escape an ecclesiastical tyranny at home, they were willing to venture them- selves in new climes. But they meant to triumph in the arts of peace. They embarked with the Bible as their shield and sword, and they laid its principles at the foundation of all their institutions, civil, literary, in- INDIAN POLICY. 369 dustrial, and ecclesiastic. They were pious and industrious themselTM, and they designed to make the Indian tribes so. They bought their lands and paid for them, and proceeded to establish friendly neighbor- hoods among the tribes. Religious truth, as it is declared in the Gos- pel, was the fundamental principle of all their acts. In its exposition and daily use, they followed no interpretations of councils at variance with its plain import. This every one was at liberty to read. Placed side by side with such an enlightened and purposed race, what had the priests of the system of native rites and superstitions to expect f There could be no compromise of rites — no partial conformity — no giving up a part to retain the rest — as had been done in the plains of Central America, Mexico and Yucatan. No toleration of pseudo-paganism, as had been done on the waters of the Orinoco, the Parana and the Para- guay. They must abandon the system at once. The error was gross and total. They must abjure it. They had mistaken darkness for light ; and they were now offered the light. They had worshipped Lucifer instead of Immanuel. This the tribes who spread along the shores of the North Atlantic were told, and nothing was held back. They founded churches and established schools among them. They trans- lated the entire Bible, and the version of David^s Psalms, and the Hymns of Dr. Watts, into one of their languages. Two types of the human race, more fully and completely antagonistical, in all respects, never came in contact on the globe. They were the alpha and omega of the ethnological chain. If, therefore, the Red Race declined, and the white increased, it was because civilisation had more of the prin- ciples of endurance and progress than barbarism ; because Christianity was superior to paganism ; industry to idleness ; agriculture to hunting ; letters to hieroglyphics ; truth to error. Here lie the true secrets of the Red Men's decline. There are but three principal results which, we think, the civilized world could have anticipated for the race, at the era of the discovery. 1. They might be supposed to be subject to early extermination on the coasts, where they were found. A thousand things would lead to this, which need not be mentioned. Intemperance and idleness alone were adequate causes. 2. Philanthropists and Christians might hope to re claim them, either in their original positions on the coasts, or in agri- cultural communities in adjacent parts. 8. Experience and forecast might indicate a third result, in which full success should attend neither of the foregoing plans, nor yet complete failure. There was nothing, exactly, in the known history of mankind, to guide opinion. A mixed condition of things was the most probable result. And this, it might be anticipated, would be greatly modified by times and seasons, circumstances and localities, acting on particular tribes. Nothing less could have been expected but the decline and extinction of some tribe, m 370 INDIAN P0L:CY. whilft the removftl of others, to less exposed position i, would be found to tell upon their improvement. The effects of letters and Christianity would necessarily be slow ; but they were effects, which the history of discovery and civilisation, in other parts of the world, proved to be effective and practical. What was this mixed condition to eventuate in ?— how long was it to continue ? Were the tribes to exercise sove- reign political jurisdiction over the tracts they lived on ? Were they to submit to the civilized code, and if so, to the penal code only, or also to the civil ? Or, if not, were they to exist by amalgamation with the European stocks, and thus contribute the elements of a new race ? These, and many other questions, early arose, and were often not a little perplexing to magistrates, legislatures, and governors. It was evident the aboriginal race possessed distinctive general rights, but these existed contemporaneously, or intermixed with the rights of the discoverers. How were these separate rights to be defined ? How were the weak to be protected, and the strong to be restrained, at points beyond the ordinary pale of the civil law ? If a red man killed a white, without the ordinary jurisdiction of the courts, could he be seized as a criminal .' And if so, were civil offences, committed without the jurisdiction of either territory, cognizable in either, or neither ? Could there be a supremacy within a supremacy ? And what was the limit between State and United States laws ? Such were among the topics entering into the Indian policy. It was altogether a mixed system, and like most mixed systems, it worked awkwardly, confusedly, and sometimes badly. Precedents were to be established for new cases, and these were per- petually subject to variation. Legislators, judges, and executive officers were often in doubt, and it required the wisest, shrewdest, and best meii in the land to resolve these doubts, and to lay down rules, or advice, for future proceeding in relation to the Red Race. It will be suffic'vnt to Dear cut the latter remark, to say, that among the sages who leemed this subject important, were a Roger Williams, a Penn, a Franklin, a Washington, a Jefferson, a Monroe, a Crawford, and a Calhoun. It must needs have happened, that where the Saxon race went, the principles of law, justice, and freedom, must prevail. These principles, as they existed in England at the beginning of the sixteenth century, were transferred to America, with the Cavaliers, the Pilgrims, and the Quakers, precisely, as to the two first topics, as they existed at home. Private rights were as well secured, and public justice as well avrarded here, as there. But they also brought over the aristocratic system, which was upheld by the royal governors, who were the immediate re- presentatives of the crown. The doctrine was imprescriptible, that the fee of all public or unpatented lands was in the crown, and all inhabit- ants of the realm owed allegiance and fealty to the crown. This doc- trine, when applied to the native tribes of America, left them neither INDIAN POLICY. 371 fee-simple in the soil, nor political sovereignty over it. It cut them down to vassals, but, by a legal solecism, they were regarded as a sort of free vassals. So long as the royal governments remained, they had the usufruct of the public domain — the right of fishing, and hunting, and planting upon it, and of doing certain other acts of occupancy ; but this right ceased just as soon, and as fast, as patents were granted, or the public exigency required the domain. The native chiefs were quieted with presents from the throne, through the local officers, and their ideas of in- dependence and control were answered by the public councils, in which friendships v ere established, and the public tranquillity looked after. Private purchases were made from the outset, but the idea of a public treaty of purchase of the soil under the proprietary and royal governors, was not entertained before the era of William Penn. It remained for the patriots of 1775, who set up the frame of our pre- sent government, by an appeal to arms, to award the aboriginal tribes the full proprietary right to the soil they respectively occupied, and to guarantee to them its full and free use, until such right was relinquished by treaty stipulations. So far, they were acknowledged as sovereigns. This is the first step in their political exaltation, and dates, in our re- cords, from the respective treaties of Fort Pitt, September 17, 1778, and of Fort Stanwix, of October 22, 1784. The latter was as early after the establishment of our independence, as these tribes — the Six nations, who, with the exception of the Oneidas, sided with the parent country — could be brought to listen to the terms of peace. They were followed by the Wyandots, Delawares, and Chippewas, and Ottowas, in January, 1785 ; by the Cherokees, in November of the same year ; and by the Choctaws and Shawnees, in January, 1786. Other western nations followed in 1789 ; the Cieeks did not treat till 1790. And from this era, the system has been conLiuued up to the present moment. It may be affirmed, that there is not an acre of land of the public domain of the United States, sold at the land offices, from the days of General Washington, but what has been acquired in this manner. War, in which we and they have been frequently involved, since that period, has con- veyed no territorial right. We have conquered them, on the field, not to usurp territory, but to place them in a condition to observe how much more their interests and permanent prosperity would be, and have ever been, promoted by the plough than the sword. And there has been a prompt recurrence, at every mutation from war to peace, punctually, to that fine sentiment embraced in the first article of the first treaty ever made between the American government and the Indian tribes, namely, that all ofiences and animosities " shall be mutually forgiven, and buried in deep oblivion, and never more be had in remembrance."* • Treaty of Fort Pitt, 177& 372 INDIAN POLIOT. The first step to advance the aboriginal man to his nataral and just political rights, namely, the acknowledgment of his right to the «ot7, we have mentioned ; but those that were to succeed it were more difficult and complex in their bearings. Congress, from the earliest traces ot their action, as they appear in their journals and public acts, confined the operation of the civil code to the territory actually acquired by negotia- tion, and treaties duly ratified by the Senate, and proclaimed, agreeably to the Constitution, by the President. So much of this public territory as fell within the respective State lines, fell, by the terms of our politi- cal compact, under State laws, and the jurisdiction of the State courts ; and as soon as new tracts of the Indian territory, thus within State boun- daries, were acquired, the State laws had an exact corresponding exten- sion until the whole of such Indian lands had been acquired. This pro- vided a definite and clear mode of action, and if it were sometimes the subject of doubt or confliction, such perplexity arose from the great ex- tension of the country, its sparsely settled condition, and the haste or ignorance of local magistrates. And these difficulties were invariably removed whenever the cases came into the Supreme Court of the United States. Without regard to the area of the States, but including and having respect only to the territories, and to the vast and unincorporated wil- derness, called the " Indian country," Congress provided a special code of laws, and from the first, held over this part of the Union, and holds over it now, full and complete jurisdiction. This code was designed chiefly to regulate the trade carried on at those remote points between the white and red men, to preserve the public tranquillity, and to provide for the adjudication of offences Citizens of the United States, carrying the passport, license, or authority of their government, are protected by their papers thus legally obtained ; and the tribes are held answerable for their good treatment, and if violence occur, for their lives. No civil process, however, has efficacy in such positions ; and there is no com- pulsory legal collection of debts, were it indeed practicable, on the Indian territories. The customs and usages of the trade and intercourse, as established from early times, prevail there. These customs are chiefly founded on the patriarchal system, which was found in vogue on the settlement of the country, and they admit of compensations and privileges founded on natural principles of equity and right. The Indian criminal code, whatever that is, also prevails there. The only excep- tion to it arises from cases of Americans, maliciously killed within the " Indian country," the laws of Congress providing, that the aggressors should be surrendered into the hands of justice, and tried by the nearest United States courts. ' .• • These preliminary facts will exhibit some of the leading features of the mixed system alluded to. Its workings were better calculated for INDIAN POLICY. 873 the early stages of society, while population was sparse and the two racej), as bodies, kept far apart, than for its maturer periods. As the in- tervening lands became ceded, and sold, and settled, and the tribes them- selves began to put on aspects of civilisation, the discrepancies of the sys- tem, and its want of homogeneousncss and harmony, became'more appa- rent. Thi oughout the whole period of the administrations of Washington, and John Adams, and Jefferson, a period of twenty years, the low state of our population, and the great extent and unreclaimed character of the public domain, left the Indians undisturbed, and no questions of much importance occurred to test the permanency of the system as regards the welfare of the Indians. Mr. Jefferson foresaw, however, the effect of encroachments beyond the Ohio, and with an enlightened regard for the race and their civilisation, prepared a new and consolidated code of all prior acts, with some salutary new provisions, which had the effect to systematize the trade and intercourse, and more fully to protect the rights of the Indians. This code served, with occasional amendments, through the succeeding administrations of Madison, Monroe, and John Quincy Adams, into that of General Jackson, when, in 1834, the greatly ad- vanced line of the frontiers, the multiplied population, and necessarily increased force of the Indian department, and the large amount of Indian annuities to be paid, called for its thorough revision, and a new general enactment was made. Previously, however, to this time, during the administration of Mr. Mor.ioe, it was perceived that the Indian tribes, as separate communi- ties, living in, and sui^rounded by, people of European descent, and gov- erned by a widely different system of laws, arts, and customs, could not be expected to arrive at a state of permanent prosperity while thus lo- cally situated. The tendency of the Saxon institutions, laws, and juris- prudence, was to sweep over them. The greater must needs absorb the less. And there appeared, on wise and mature reflection, no rea- sonable hope to ths true friends of the native race, that they could sus- tain themselves ■5-i ;«idependency or success as foreign elements in the midst of the State communities. It was impossible that two systems of governments, so diverse as the Indian and American, should co-exist on the same territory. All history proved this. The most rational hope of success for this race, the only one which indeed appeared practical on a scale commensurate with the object, was to remove them, with their own consent, to a position entirely without the boundaries of the State jurisdictions, where they might assert their political sovereignty, and live and develope their true national character, under their own laws. The impelling cause for the action of the government, during Mr Monroe's administration, was the peculiar condition of certain tribes, liv- ing on their own original territories, within the State boundaries, and 374 INDIAN POLICY. I who were advene to further ceasions of such territory. The question asBumpd its principal interest in the State of Georgia, within which por* tiona of the Creek and Cherokee tribes were then living. About ten millions of acres of lands were thus in the occupancy of these two tribei. As the population of Georgia expanded and approached the Indian set- tlements, the evils of the mixed political system alluded to began strong- ly to evince themselves. In the progress of the dispersion of the human race over the globe, there never was, perhaps, a more diverse legal, po- litical, and moral amalgamation attempted, than there was found to ex- ist, when, in this area, the descendants from the old Saxons, north-men and Hugenots from Europe, came in contact with the descendants (we speak of a theory) of the idle, pastoral, unphilosophic, non-inductive race of central Asia, living in the genial climate and sunny valleys of Georgia and Alabama. The American government had embarrassed itself by stipulating at an early day, with the State of Georgia, to extinguish the Indian title with- in her boundaries, at the earliest practicable period, when it could be done " peaceably and on reasonable conditions." The Indians, as they ad- vanced in agriculture, became averse to sell. The Georgians, as they increased in numbers, became importunate for the territory to which they had, in this event, the reversionary right. The President was frequently importuned by the State authorities. The Indians were frequently brought to consider the subject, which was one that increased its impor- tance with years. We have deemed it proper to put this matter in its right attitude in relation to the great question of Indian removal ; and as furnishing, as it did, reasons for the early consideration and action of the government. It is not our intention to pursue the Georgia question disjunctively— -we have neither time nor space for it here, and will only further premise, that it is susceptible of some very different views from those often pre- mised of it.* That it was one of the prominent considerations which led the administration of Monroe to take up betimes the general question of the Indian tribes, is well known and remembered, and apparent from a perusal of the public documents of the era. Governed by such considerations, Mr. Monroe communicated a spe- cial message to Congress on the 27th of January, 1S25, recommending the removal of all the tribes within the States and Territories, and pro- viding for their future "location and government." This is the official date and foundation of the plan of removal, which has been so generally, * We have only space to say here, that the cession of the Georgia lands was suh- seq icntly made by the Lower Creeks under the' chieftaincy cf General M'Intosh, who was the first to affix his signature to it. For this act he paid the penalty of hia life ; the Upper Creeks and their adherents, having assembled in arms, surrounded his house, and fired three hundred balls into it, killing its unhappy, but distinguish* ed inmate. INfilAN ^OLiOT. 376 aticl may we not add, so successfully and propitiously to the best inte- rests of the tribes, carried into effect. " Being deeply impressed with the opinion," observes this venerated statesman, who has, years since, gone to join the patriot spirits who achieved our independence — " that the removal of the Indian tribes from the land which they now occu- py, within the limits of the several States and Territories, to the coun* try lying westward and northward thereof, within our acknowledged boundaries, is of very high importance to the Union, and may be accom- plished on conditionit, and in a manner, to promgte the interests and hap- piness of those tribes, the attention of the government has been long drawn, with great solicitude, to the object. ** For the removal of the tribes within the limits of the State of Geor- gia, the motive has been peculiarly strong, arising from the compact with that State, whereby the United States are bound to extinguish the In- dian title to the lands within it, whenever it may be done peaceably, and on reasonable conditions. " In the ftilfilment of this compact, I have thought that the United States should act with a generous spirit, that they should omit nothing which should comport with a liberal construction of the instrument, and likewise be in accordance with the just rights of those tribes. From the view which I have taken of the subject; I am satisfied that, in the dis- charge of these important duties, in regard to both the parties alluded to, the United States will have to encounter no conflicting interests with either : on the contrary, that the removal of the tribes from the Territo- ries which they inhabit, to that which was designated in the message at the commencement of the session, which would accomplish the object for Georgia, under a well digested plan for their government and civili- sation, in a mode agreeable to themselves, would not only shield them from impending ruin, but promote their welfare and happiness. Experi ence has clearly demonstrated thatj in their present state^ it is impossibi *o incorporate them, in such masses, in any form whatever, into our system. It has also demonstrated, with equal certainty, that without a timely anticipa- tion of, and provision against, the dangers to which they are expostd, under causes which it will be difficult, if not impossible, to control, their degrada- tion and extermination will be inevitable.^^ We have underscored the last two sentences, because they express in forcible and just language, the experience of the American govern- ment, in relation to the subject, afler an experiment of fifty years, doting from *75, and lie, indeed, at the foundation of the present Indian policy. It is also the experience of sound and calm observers, who have watch- ed the operation of our laws and customs upon the isolated Indian com- munities in the States. Every year has exemplified thefutility of rais- ing them up to the European standard in industry, in intelligence of cha- racter, while thus situated ; nor, indeed, has it been practicable to shield 376 INDIAN POLICY. them efiectually againiit the combined efiecU of intemperance^ personal ■loth, and of popular and vulgar contumely. Mr. Calhoun, whose report on the subject was transmitted to Con- gress, with the message above named, communicates the details essen- tial to the execution of the proposed plan. He states the whole num- ber of Indians to be removed from the States and territories, excluding those located west and north of Lake Michigan and the Straits of St. Mary's, at 97,000 souls, who occupy about 77 millions of acres of land. The country proposed for their location is that stretching immediately west, beyond the bouncfaries of the States of Missouri and Abkansas, haying the River Arkansas running through its centre from west to east, the Missouri and Red rivers respectively as the northern boundary, and the vast grassy plains east of the Rocky Mountains, as its western limit. The map which we publish of this territory, is drawn on the basis of one which was published by Congress in 1834, in illustration of the re- port of the committee on Indian affairs of May 30th of that session. It embraces all the locations of tribes to that period. The plan proposed the gratuitous grant of the country to the respec- tive tribes, and their removal to it at government expense. It embraces the transference to it, of their schools established by religious societies, and supported, in part, by the civilisation fund, and all their means of moral and religious culture. It is based on the pursuit of agriculture, the me- chanic arts, and the raising of cattle and stock. It invests the tribes with full power of making and executing all their laws and regulations, civil and criminal. It stipulates military protection, to keep the sur- rounding tribes at peace. It leaves them their political sovereignty ; being without the boundary of the States, under their own chiefs and local governors, with such aids as are necessary to enable the various tribes to associate and set up the frame of an associated government to be managed by themselves, and as subsequently proposed in Congress, to be represented in that body whenever the system shall be perfected so as to justify this measure. It proposed, as the basis of removal, a solemn act of Congress, guaranteeing the country to them, and exclud- ing its future incorporation into the States. A second location, in the northern latitudes, was proposed for the Indians west of Michigan, where a further body of 32,266 souls were estimated to reside. Such were the general principles of Mr. Monroe's plan, submitted in 1825, and subsequently adopted by Congress, in its essential features. It has now been in operation eightben years, and it is proposed, in bringing this paper to a close, briefly to examine the condition and pros- pects of the expatriated tribes, in the country to which they have been transferred. By a report from the proper department, transmitted to Congress with INDIAN POLIOT. 377 the Presidont'i message in 1836, the result of the first ten years' expe- rinient is shown to have been the actual migration of 40,000 from their original seats, east, to the allotted Indian territory, west of the Mis- sissippi. Of this number, 18,000 were Creeks, 15,000 Choctaws, 6,000 Cherokees, 2,000 Chippewas, Oltawas, and Pottowattomies, 1,300 Shawnees, 800 Delawares, 500 Quapaws, 400 Seminoles, 600 Kicka- poos, 400 Senecas, and an average of, say 250 each, of Appalachicolas, Weas, Piankashaws, Peorias and Kaskaskias. In this statement, small fractions over or under, are omitted. A location and permanent home has been provided for seventeen tribes and parts of tribes ; a number which, in the succeeding seven years, we speak from documents before us, has been largely augmented. The whole body of the Cherokees, of the Creeks, or Muscogees, of the Chickasaws and Choctaws, &c., and also, with the exception of one principal band, of the Seminoles, have been removed. Portions of other tribes, not then full, have joined their kindred ; and some whole tribes, who had not before come into the ar- rangement, and ceded their lands east, as the Miamas of the Wabash, and the Wyandots of Sanduskcy, have since accepted locations in the Indian territory. The Chickasaws are all located with their affiliated countrymen, the Choctaws ; and numbers of the ancient Iroquois con- federacy, the Six Nations of New York, as well as the ancient Mohe- gans and Munsees, have, within a few years, selected locations south of the Missouri. The entire number of red men now concentrated on those plains and valleys, where winter scarcely exerts any severity of power, may be set down at 77,000 souls, leaving, from the official report of 1841, but 21,774 of the original estimated number of 1825, to be remov- ed ; exclusive of those west of the straits of MichilimAchinac and St. Mary's. From the documents accompanying the annual report transmitted to Congress by the President, in December, 1840, the amount of funds invested by the government in stocks, for the Indians, was $2,580,000, on which the annual interest paid to them was $131,05. Twenty-four of the tribes had permanently appropriated, by treaty, $60,730 per an- num, for the purpose of education. The number of schools maintained, and the number of pupils actually taught, are not furnished. It is grati- fying to know, from this source, that civilisation, agriculture, and the mechanic arts, are making a rapid progress, and that education and Christianity are walking hand-in-hand. Planting and raising cattle are adopted generally. Portions of the most advanced tribes have devoted themselves to the mechanic arts, supplying themselves, to a limited ex* tent, with smiths, wheelwrights, carpenters, and joiners, and some other oranches. Spinning and hand-loom weaving are practised to some ex- tent. There are native merchants, among the three principal southern tribes, who ship thei/ own cotton and other products to market, and sup- 378 INDIAN POLICY. ply their people, in return, with such products of the East and West In- dies, and other parts of the world, as they require. A large part of the contracts, particularly for Indian corn, required to subsist the United States troops in that quarter of the Union, is furnished by native con- tractors. Their legislation is performed in representative council^, and is well adapted to the actual and advancing state of society. Many of th?ir leading men are well educated ; some of them classically; and the general moral and intellectual tone and habits of the tribes, are clearly and strikingly on the advance. It requires, it is believed, but time and perseverance in civil associations, to lead them to the same results ar- rived at by other barbarous nations, and to demonstrate to them the value and importance of a general political confederation, founded on the principles of equal rights and equal representation, supported by public virtue and intelligence. Having sketched the cause of the decline of that portion of the North American Indians, who were seated along the Atlantic, and the plan proposed for checking it, we shall now, with the map and documentary evidence before us, devote a few moments to the present condition and prospects of the more prominent tribes. 1. The Choctaws, beginning at the extreme south of the territory, are the first in position. They occupy the country above the State of Ar- k2.nsas, extending from the Arkansas to the Red river, following up the Canadian branch of the former, comprising an area of about 150 miles in breadth, by 200 in length. They are bounded by Texas south-west. The country is well adapted for grain and the raising of stock, in its middle and northern parts, and for cotton on the south. Many of the nati> !S have large fields, where, but a few years since, the forest was untouched. Saw mills, grist mills, and cotton gins, are either erecting or erected throughout the country. Salt is manufactured by an intelli- gent Choctiw. Iron ore has been found, and specimens of gold have been pickfl 'ip in various places. This tribe is governed by a written constitution and laws. Their ter- ritory is diviled into three districts, each of which elects, once in four years, a ruling chief, and ten representatives. The general council, thus constituted, and consisting of thirty councillors, meets annually, on the first Monday in October. Voters must be Choctaws, of age, and residents of the districts. The three chiefs have a joint veto power on all laws passed ; but two-thirds of the council may re-pass them after such rejection. The council of thirty appoint their own speaker and clerk, and keep a journal. They meet in a large and commodious council-house, fitted up with seats for members and spectators, and committee rooms. Their sessions are, usually, about ten days in duration. They are paid two dollars per diem for their services, out of public funds. INDIAN POLICY. 379 In addition to this evidence of capacity for self-government, there are judicial districts established, the right of trial by jury is secured, and there is an appeal to the highest tribunal. All the males, of a special age, are subject to do military duty : for this purpose the territory is subdivided into thirty two captaincies, the whole being placed under the orders of a general. The council has passed many good and wholesome laws ; among them, one against intemperance and the sale of ardent spirits. The collection of lebts is at present not compulsory, being regulated by questions of credit, punctuality, and honor, which are to be adjusted between the buyer and seller. The country is too sparsely settled, and the popular odium against incarceration too strong, to permit a resort to it. Thus, it will be seen, this tribe exhibit in their frame of government the elements of a representative republic, not a pure democracy, with perhaps sufficient conservative power to guard against sudden popular effervescence. The Choctaws have twelve public schools, establislicd by treaty stipulations with the United States. There are several missionaries amongst them, of the Presbyterian and Methodist denominations, whose labors are reported by the public agents to be beneficial, and calculated to advance their condition. There are four public blacksmith shops, two of which are exclusively workt ' by the natives. The strikers, or assistants, at all the shops, are natives. Shops have also been erected, in various parts of the nation, which are occupied only in the spring and summer, in planting and crop time. The mechanics in these are na- tives, who are paid, not by the individuals requiring aid, but out of public funds. The nation has an academy located in Scott county, Kentucky, at which 125 students were taught in 1839 and 1840. This institution is now in the process of being established in their own territory. This tribe we learn by the Secretary of War's report, appropriated $18,000 of their annuities, in 1843, to educational purposes. 2. Chickasaws. This tribe is of the same lineage as the Choctaws ; and, by a compact with the latter, they occupy the same territory, and live intermixed with them. It constitutes a part of this compact, that the Chickasaws are to concentrate their population, and form a fourth election district, v/hich shall be entitled to elect ten representatives, and three senatorial chiefs, to the national Council. The aggregate amount of the vested funds of this tribe, in 1840, was $515,230 44 ; of which $146,000 is devoted to orphans. The annual interest paid by the gov- ernment is $27,063 83. They participate equally in the advantages of the Choctaw academy, and have had many of their youth educated at that institution. 3. Next, in geographical position, to the united Choctaws and Chick- asaws, are the Muskogees, who are more generally known under the name of Creeks. They occupy a territory one hundred and fifty miles 380 INDTAN POLICY. in length, by ninety Jn breadth. They are bounded on the south by the Canadian fork of the Arkansas, and by the district of the Seminoles, which lies between the main branch of this stream and its north fork. Their territory reaches to a point opposite the junction of the Neosho, and is protracted thence north to the Cherokee boundary. It is a rich tract, well adapted to the growth of corn, vegetables, and esculents, and the raising of stock. It is not as abundantly watered by running streams as some of the tractis, or rather, it is a characteristic of its smaller streams that they run dry, or stand in pools, during the latter part of summer. In place of these, it has some good springs. The main and the north fork of the Canadian are exemptions from the effects of summer drouth. In point of salubrity, the country is not iaferior to other portions of the Indian territory. The government of the Creeks is still essentially the same which they exercised on the banks of the Chattahoochee and the plains of Georgia. They exist in chieftainships, each head of which has his own local jurisdiction, civil and criminal. Each ruling chief has his village and his adherents ; and the condition of things partakes of what we shall be understood by designating feudal traits. They have no written con* stitution ; their laws are, however, now reduced in part to writing. General councils, or conventions, not exact in the period of their occur- rence, consider and decide all general questions. At these, the chief- tainships are all entitled to representation. Local questions, of right and police, come before the local chiefs, and are settled according to usage. They adhere to the original mode of working common or town fields, at which it is the duty of all to assist, both in the original clear- ing and in the annual labor of planting and reaping. There are also in- dividuals, possessing slaves, who manage pretty extensive plantations. More corn is raised by this tribe than by any other now located West. Over and above their own wants, they have for several years had a large amount for sale and exportation. Less attention has been paid to the raising of stock, for which, indeed, the country has been deemed less propitious ; but this branch of industry has of late years attracted more attention. The Creeks had, for many years prior to their removal, been divided into upper and lower towns — a distinction which has been transferred to the West. Opothleyoholo is the chief of the Upper, and Roly Mcin- tosh of the Lower Creeks. These two chieftainships embrace the lesser ones, and divide the nation 'o two parties. It was the Lower towns, headed by the father of the present chief (whose tragic death we have mentioned), that ceded the Georgian territory, and thus sided in the policy of that State. The condition in which this tribe existed, in por- tions of Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, was, in other respects, pecu- liar. In emerging, as they were well in the process of doing, from the INDIAN POLICY. 381 hunter to the agricultural state, the institution of slavery, by which they were surrounded, and in which they participated, gave a peculiar de« velopment to their industry. Chiefe, who were averse to work them- r>elves, employed slaves, and thus the relation of planter and slave was established long before the question of their removal occurred. The effects of this were to exalt a portion of the nation above, and to depress others below, the average standing. The disparity which took place in laborious habits and in wealth, also impressed itself on education, dress, manners, and information generally. Although the idea of slavery was well known to the red race from the earliest times, and they all have a word for it, in their native vocabularies, and practised it on their pri- soners, yet the result we are considering was accelerated by an admix- ture of European blood in their chieftains. Hence it is that this tribe, and one or two others in the south, have for years been able to put forth intelligent chiefs to transact their public business, who have astonished the circles at Washington. Yet, if they were followed to the huts of the common people, at home, there was a degree of igno- rance and barbarity, even below the standard of our leading northern tribes. Two kinds of testimony, respecting the condition of the southern tribes, both very different, and both true, could therefore be given. The Creeks came west, soured and disappointed, and but little dis- posed for the effort before them. They had suffered in various ways, and they had left the southern slopes and sunny valleys of the southern Alleganies with " a longing, lingering look." They had never mani- fested a general interest in schools, and none whatever in religion. The latter is still the prevalent feeling. It is believed there is not a mission- ary now tolerated among them. There is a more friendly reeling towards education. Neither had they made much advance in mechanic arts. The chiefs were too proud, the common people too indolent, to learn the use of the saw or the hammer. Some change, in this respect, is thought to have ensued. Mechanics are employed for their benefit and at their charges, by the government, which must introduce the elements of mechanical industry. They dress in a rather gaudy, but picturesque manner. Th^ live in comfortable houses of squared or scored logs, fitted up with useful articles of furniture, and they employ beasts of burthen and of pleasure. It is the evidence of the government agents, that the signs of advancing thrift and industry are among them. Time alone, it is believed, is necessary, with a perseverance in present efforts, to carry them onwards to civilisation and prosperity.* 4. Seminoles. This tribe is of the language and lineage of the Creeks. They are appropriately placed on a tract within the general ♦ This tribe has, the past year (1843), passed a law expelling all white men who play at cards, from the limits of the nation, whether they have Indian wives or not. '' :1 INDIAN POLICY. area of the latter, bounded on the south by the Canadian fork of the Arkansas, and by the lands of the Choctaws and Cliickasaws. The tract has an extent of seventy miles from east to west, and is fully ade- quate to their wants. A blacksmith's shop is maintained for them ; they are furnished with agricultural implements, and have been gratui- tously subsisted, as olher tribes, one year, at the public expense. It is thought to be unfavorable to their progress, that they have been allowed to migrate, with their slaves, who are averse to labor and exert a para- lysing influence on their industry. This tribe is far behind the othei louthern tribes in civilisation and manners. They occupied, while in Florida, a region truly tropical in its climate, and which yielded spon- taneously no unimportant part of their subsistence, in the arrowroot and in sea fish. Their chief product thus far, in the west, has been corn. They live under the authority of local chiefs, who, as in all their past history, exercise influence in proportion to their talents and courage. Their withdrawal from scenes and situations which served as nurseries of idle, savage habits, and their association with the other leading tribes, who are now bent on supporting themselves exclusively by agriculture, have been favorable. They have been at peace since their arrival on the waters of the Arkansas ; and it is anticipated that they will, by ex- ample and emulation, assimilate themselves in industry with the pre- existing tribes. It has already been demonstrated that they will sus- tain themselves in their new field of labor. But few of their numbers — from the last accounts not exceeding 100* — now remain in Florida. 5. Cherokees. This tribe is prominent among the native stocks in the United States, and is foremost in the efforts it has made to take rank among civilized nations. In this eflbrt it has passed through some severe and tragic ordeals from internal dissensions, from which it would seem, that in proportion as the prize is brought within their grasp, are the trials multiplied which delay its seizure. And, notwithstanding its strong claims to consideration on this head, they have, it must be ad- mitted, much to attain. The original position of the Cherokees, in the valleys and the western spurs of the Alleganies, and remote from the disturbing causes which agitated the other tribes, was highly favor- able to their increase and advance. No tribe in North America had remained so completely undisturbed, by red or white men, up to the year 1S36. They were early, and to a considerable extent, cultiva- tors ; and whatever they were in ancient times, they have been a nation at peace, for a long period. Soon after the close of the late war of 1812, a portion of this tribe went over the Mississippi, and, by a compact with governmen-t, placed themselves between the waters of the White river and the Arkansas. This advance formed the nucleus • Secretary of. War's report, 1843. * INDIAN POLICY. 383 in of that political party, who have mingled in their recent assemblies under the name of Western Cherokees, and who deemed themselves to be entitled to some rights and considerations above the Eastern Cherokees. The principal dissensions, however, grew out of the question of the cession of the territory east of the Mississippi. This was a broad question of salt or no sale, emigration or non-emigration. At the head of the affirmative party was Ridge ; at the head of the negative, Boss. The latter, in addition to his being the leading chief and most prominent man, was in a large majority, and, for a time, successfully resisted the measure. The former drew a number of the best educated chiefs and men to his side. Availing himself of the temporary absence of his antagonist, Ross, from the country, he ceded the country, and sealed the fate of his tribe east of the Mis- sissippi. It was a minority treaty, but the consideration was ample ; it secured large prospective advantages, besides a large and rich domain in the West. It was, therefore, sustained by the government ; the U. S. Senate ratified it, adding sonie further immunities and further compensa- tion, at the instance of Ross, The tribe was removed, but it went west with a deadly feud. In the end. Ridge, like Mcintosh, paid for his temerity with his life. A representative government was set up, consist- ing of a house of delegates or representatives, annually chosen by dis- tricts ; a senatorial council, with powers of revision or co-action, and an executive elective head. A code of laws has been adopted, and a judiciary created to carry them into effect. This system, which has been in operation some six or seven years, has been found adequate to sustain itself through scenes of severe trial ; and it must be regarded as one which, modified as it may be, is destined to endure. The territory of the Cherokees is between that of the Creeks and Osages. It is ample beyond their wants, fertile, and generally well watered. The Arkansas crosses it centrally ; it has the Neosho and the State of Arkansas as its eastern boundary. It is well adapted to the cereal grains. Corn, wheat and oats succeed well, together with melons and culinary vegetables of all descriptions. The Cherokees have been long accustomed to husbandry. They own large stocks of horses, cattle, hogs and sheep. They occupy substantial and comforta- ble houses. Many of their females spin and weave, and numbers of their people are clothed in their own manufactures. Well improved farms extend through their settlements. A number of their merchants are natives, who buy and sell produce, and import foreign merchandise. Reading and writing are common attainments. They have schools and churches. They have mills for grinding grain. They manufacture salt to a limited extent. The country yields stone coal and gypsum. The prairies, which are interspersed through the tract, yield a fine summer range for ca';tle, and produce a species of grass, which, when properly * [' 384 INDIAN POLtCy. cured, is little inferior to timothy. With a country which has thus the elements of prosperity in itself, and an intelligent and industrious popu- lation, this tribe must, ere long, present the gratifying spectacle of a civilized race. 6. The Osages. This tribe is indigenous, and formerly owned a large part of the territory which is now assigned to others. Their habits and condition have been, however, but little benefited by the use which they have made of their annuities. Great exertions have been made by the local r.gents to induce them to give up their erratic mode of life, and become agriculturists. To this end stock and agricultural imple- ments have been furnished them, and other facilities given, but without any general effects. Among these may be named the building of millsi and the erection of well built cabins for their chiefs. There is no tribe to which the term predatory may be so appropriately applied as to the Osagps. They have, from an early day, been plunderers on that fron- tier, among red and white men. Possessing a large territory, formerly well supplied with the deer, elk and buffalo, powerful in numbers, cou- rageous in spirit, and enjoying one of the finest climates, these early predatory habits have been transmitted to the present day. They are loth to relinquish this wild license of the prairies — the so-called free- dom of the roving Indian. But it is a species of freedom which the settlement of Missouri and Arkansas, and the in-gathering of the semi- civilized tribes from the south and the north, has greatly restricted. Game has become comparatively scarce. The day of the hunter is well nigh past in those longitudes. When to this is added the example of the expatriated Indians, in tillage and grazing, their field labors in fencing and erecting houses, their improved modes of dress, their schools, and their advanced state of government and laws, the hope may be indulged that the Osages will also be stimulated to enter for the prize of civilisation. Such are the six principal tribes who form the nucleus, or, to use a military phrase, the right wing of the expatriated aboriginal population, as the bands are arranged in their order from south to north, in the trans-Ozark or Indian territory. It would afford us pleasure to devote some separate Considerations to each of the remaining nineteen tribes and half tribes, or remnants and pioneers of tribes, who make up this impos- ing and interesting colony, where, for the first time since the settlement of the Continent, the Indian race is presented in an independent, com- pact, and prosperous condition. But it would manifestly extend this article beyond its just limits, and we must therefore generalize our re- maining notices. We still, however, adhere to a geographical method. The Senecas from Sandusky, and the mixed Senecas and Shawnees, are situated northeast of the Cherokees, and between the latter and the western INb.AN POLICY. JOU . M boundary of Missouri. They possess a hundred thousand acres of choice lands. The Sanduskies number 251 souls ; the mixed band, 222. They are represented as farooers and stock-raisers, frugal, industrious, and less addicted to intemperance than their neighbors. They cultivated, in 1839, from two hundred and fifty to three hundred acres of com. They have a blacksmith':! shop, under treaty stipulations, and possess good stocks of horses, cattle, and hogs. The Quapawsiadjoin the Senecas and Shawnees on the north, and, as the latter, have their kinds fronting on the Neosho. This band formerly owned and ceded the south banks of the Arkansas from its mouth as high as the Canadian fork. They are indolent, much addicted to the use of ardent spirits, and depressed in numbers. They have a tract of 96,000 acres. They cultivate, generally, about one hundred acres of com, in a slovenly manner. Part of their numbers are seated on the waters of Red River, and the Indian predilec- tion for rowing is nourished by the frequent habit of passing to and fro. This erratic habit is an unerring test of the hunter state. The Piankashaws ; nd Weas are of the Miami stock, and came from the waters of the Wabash. They are located on 255 sections, immedi- ately west of the western boundary of Missouri, and about 40 miles south of the Konza. Their population is 384, of which 222 are Weas. Immediately west of them are the Peorias and Kaskaskias of the Illinois family. They number 132, and possess 150 sections, which gives an average of more than a square mile to each soul. Still west of these, are the Ottowas of Ohio, about 200 in number, and above them, a small band of 61 of the Chippewas of Swan Creek and Black River in Michi- gan. These locations are all on the sources of the Osage River. The lands are fine, partly woods and partly prairie, and are easily cultivated. These six fragmentary bands are not dissimilar in their habits of living and the state of their advance in agriculture. They subsist themselves by raising corn and cattle and hogs. They evince an advancing condi- tion, and are surrounded by circumstances eminently favorable to it. The Shawnees are placed at the junction of the Konza with the Mis- souri, extending south and west. They number a little short of 1300, and own a territory of ten thousand square miles, or 6,400,000 acres. They are cultivators and graziers in an advanced state of improvement. Hunting may be occasionally resorted to as a sport or amusement, but it has, years since, been abandoned as a source of subsistence. Indeed, the failure of the game in that region would have rendered the latter im- perative, had not their improved habits of industry led to it. This tribe have essentially conquered their aversion to labor. They drive oxen and horses trained to the plough. They split rails and build fences. They erect substantial cabins and barns. They have old corn in theii eribs from year to year They own good saddle-horses and saddles, and 25 a 5J ,il Mi !i:it 886 INDIAN POLIOT. odier articles of capariaoiiy and a traveller or visitor will find a good naeal, » dean bed, and kind treatment in their aettlemenV Next in position to the Shawnees are the Delawares, the descend- ants of the ancient Lenno Lenapees of Pennsylvania. Allies and kin- dred in their ancient position, they are still in juxtaposition in their new Their tract begins at the junction of the Konza and Missouri on the north, and after running up the former to the Konza reserve, extends north and west so »s to embrace it on the north. It contains about 2450 square miles, or 2,308,000 acres. They number, at the last dates to which we have referred, 826 souls, and are on the increase. In point of habite, industry, and improvement, they are perluqps not inferior to any of the northern stocks. Shielded from intemperance by their posi- tion, out of the State limits, where they are exclusively under the influ- ence and protection of Congress laws, this tribe, together with the entire circle of Indian communities on that frontier, has been for some years in a favourable position for recovering and developing their true energies. They have, within a few years, received into their protection a small band (182) of the Monceys, smd a smaller one, of 74, of the Stockbridges : the latter, we need hardly inform the intelligent reader, are descendants oS the ancient Mohegans, and the former of the Minsi and Minnisinks, who, at the era of the coIonizaClon of " No^ Belgica" and New York, were respectively located on the east and the west bac^ of (he Hudson. The Stockbridges are civilized ; the Munsees less so, but industrious. Both are poor, and without funds. Immediately succeeding the Delawares are the Kickapoos, an erratic race, who, under various names, in connection with the Foxes and Sacs, have, in good keeping with one of their many names,* skipped over half the continent, to the manifest discomfort of both German and American philologists and ethnographers, who, in searching for the so-called " Mas- cotins," have followed, so far as their results are concerned, wn ignis faiwu. The Kickapoos have 12,000 square miles, or 768,000 acres. It is a choice, rich tract, and they are disposed, with the example (^ the Delewares and Shawnees, to profit by it. They raise corn and cattle, hogs and horses, and are {Nrosperoos. Their numbers, in 1840, were 470. There is a tract of 200 square miles, on the Great and Little Namaha, assigned to the metifs, or descendants of mixed blood, of the lowas, Otoes, and Missouris. These separate the removed and semi- civilized tribes, south and west of the Missouri, fsom the wild indige- nes — we mean the Otoes, the Pawnees, the Omahaws, and the Sioux, who extend over vast tracts, and exist without any sensible improve- ment in their condition. The same remark may be applied to the Kon- aaa, who are, however, hemmed in between the Delawares and the * This is said, by one inteipretation, to mean Rabbit's Ghost INDIAN POLICY. 387 the Shawnees, except on their western borders. It is no part of oar purpose to consider these tribes, as, over and above the influence of contiguoov examples, they constitute no part of the evidence affecting the genend question of the plan of removal. That this evidence, as now briefly sketched, is &vorable, and indeed highly fitvorable, to the general condition and prosperity of the removed tribes, is, we apprehend, clearly manifest. Not only liave they been placed beyond the wasting influence of causes which oppressed them, within the circle of the State communities ; but they have received in exchange for their eastern lands, a territory which, as a whole, is highly fertile and salubrious. It is a territory which has required little conipa* rative labor to cultivate, made up as it is of mixed forests and prairies. It is also, viewed in extensoy well watered, having those noble streams, the Red River, the Arkansas, the Konza, the Platte, and the Missouri, with their tributaries, running through it. The range which it affords for cattle and stock, and the abundance of wild hay, of a nutritious qual- ity, has proved very favorable to an incipient agricultural population, and greatly mitigated the ordinary labors of farming in northern climates. There are no latitudes in North America more favorable to the growth of corn. The cotton plant has been introduced by the Choctaws and Ghickasaws, on the banks of Red river. It is a region abounding in salt springs and gypsum beds, both which must hereafter be fully developed, and will prove highly advantageous. It is above the first or principal rapids of the great streams runnmg down the plateau of the Rocky Moun- tains, and consequently affords sites for water-mills, which are scarce end almost unknown on the lower Arkansas. There is, indeed, a com- bination of circumstances, which are calculated to favor the General Government plan, and foster the Indians in a general attempt at civilisa- tion and self-government. And we look with interest, and not without anxiety, at the result of the experiment. We are aware that there are trials before them, arising from great diversity of feelings and opinions, and states of civilisation. Some of the tribes are powerful, advanced, and wealthy ; some feeble and poor. Education has very unequally affected them. Laws are in their embryo state. The Gospel has been but partially introduced. In clothing the native councils with some of the powers of a congress, and regulating their action by constitutional fixity, there is great care and deliberation required, not, at once, to grasp too much. There is perhaps yet greater danger in enlarging the authority of the chiefs and sagamores into some- thing like presidential dimensions. The natives have great powers of imitation ; and it is to be feared that they will content themselves by imitating things which they do not fully understand or appreciate. The national character of the Indians is eminently tuspicious. There is a fisar to trust others, even themselves. Delegated power is narrowly 388 INDIAN POLICY. watched, and often begrudged when given. The acts of their public men are uniformly impugned. The thought seems hardly to be enter- tained by the common Indians, that an officer may be guided by right and honest motives. The principle of suspicion has, so to say, eaten out the Indian heart. The jealousy with which he has watched the white man, in all periods of his history, is but of a piece with that with which he watches his chiefs, his neighbors, and his very family. Exaltation of feeling, lifberality of sentiment, justness of reasoning, a spirit of conces- sion, and that noble faith and trust which arise from purity and virtue, are the characteristics of civilisation ; and we should not be disappointed if they do not, all at once, grow and flourish in these nascent communi- ties. Still, our hopes predominate over our fears. Where so much has been accomplished as we see by the Cherokees, the Choctaws, and Chickasaws, and our most advanced northern tribes, we expect more. From the tree that bean blossoms, we expect fruit. We have no expectation, however, that without some principles of general political association, the tribes can permanently advance. To assume the character and receive the respect of a commonwealth, they must have the political bonds of a commonwealth. Our Indian tribes have never possessed any of these bonds. They are indeed the apparent rem- nants of old races, which have been shivered into fragments, and never found the capacity to re-unite. The constant tendency of all things, in a state of nature, has been to divide. The very immensity of the con- tinent, its varied fertility and resources, and its grand and wild features, led to this. Hitherto, the removed tribes in the West have opposed an associated government. They have stoutly and effectually resisted and rejected this part of the government scheme. They fear, the agents say, it is some plan to bring them under the civil yoke. Time, reflec- tion, and education must tend to correct this. More than all, their civil dissensions must tend to show the necessity of a more enlarged and gen- eral frame of government, in which some individual rights must be yield- ed to the public, to secure the enjoyment of the rest. We think there is some evidence of the acknowledgment of this want, in their occasional general councils, at which all the tribes have been invited to be present. During the last year (1843) such a convocation was held at Tahlequah, the seat of the Cherokee government. At this, there were delegates present from the Creeks, Chickasaws, Delawares, Shawoees, Pianka. shaws, Weas, Osages, Senecas, Stockbridges, Ottowas, Chippewas, Peorias, Pottowattomies, and Seminoles. The^esult of these delibera- tions, we are informed, was a compact in which it was agreed : — 1 . To maintain peace and friendship among each other. 2. To abstain from the law of retaliation for offences. 3. To provide for improvements in agriculture, the arts, and manu* &ctttres. INDIAN POLIOT. 389 4. To provide against any cession of their territory, in any form. 6. To punish crimes, committed by one tribe, in the bounds of another. 6. To provide for a general citizenship among the contracting parties. 7. To suppress the use or introduction of ardent spirits. These are very mixed principles, containing no basis of a government ; yet, futile as they are, we apprehend they contain no effective power for their enforcement. A law without a penalty is like a rope of sand. Any of these parties might nullify either of these acts, by neglecting to enforce it. It is, we apprehend, the mere expression of the popular will, in a council, without any binding obligation of the whole, or a ma- jority of the tribes, to compel obedience from the delinquent members. It may, however, lead to further deliberations ; and we cannot but regard the movement as one which betokens political forethought and purpose. Our greatest apprehensions, we must confess, before closing this paper, arise from the peculiar geographical position of the Indian territory with relation to our own. And this could not, perhaps, have been anticipated twenty years ago, when the plan was formed. Our population is on the broad move west. Nothing, it is evident, will now repress them this side of the Pacific. The snowy heights of the Rocky Mountains are already scaled ; and we but apply the results of the past to the future, in saying that the path which has been trod by a few, will be trod by many. Now, the removed tribes are precisely in the centre of this path. From the mouth of the Platte, or the Konza, the great highway to the Oregon must run west. Whether this new tide of emigration will bo successful or unsuccessful, will those who compose it spare to trample on the red man ? Will they suddenly become kind to him, to whom they have been unkind ? Will they cease to desire the lands which their children want ? Will they consent to see the nation separated by an Indian state ? Will they award honors, nay, justice, to that state ? Twenty years will answer these questions. Choctaws. — An appropriation of $113,000 has been made by Con- gress for the removal and subsistence of the Choctaws now in Missis- sippi. There are upwards of six thousand in our state, comprising about eleven hundred families. These are under Colonels Johnson and Fisher. The half of the money due the Indians, and to be paid after their landing in their new homes in the West, is to be funded. This will effectually prevent all speculation, and enable the Indians to obtain and hold what is due them. Those now in the state are guarded against all coercive measures for their removal, and left free to go West or remain in their homes in Mississippi. — Southern Reformer. \i NURSERY AND CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. The tickenagun, or Indian cradle, is an ubject of great pride with an ladiun mother. She geta the finest kind of broad cloth she possibly can to muko an outer swathing band for it, and spares no pains in ornament- ing it with beads and ribbons, worked in various figures. In the lodgei of those who can aflbrd it, there is no article more showy and pretty than the full bound cradle. The frame of the cradle itself is a curiosity. It consists of three pieces. The vertebral board, which supports the back, the hoop or foot-board, which extends tapering up each side, and the arch or bow, which springs from each side, and protects the face and head. These are tied together with deer's sinews or pegged. The whole struc* ture is very light, and is carved with a knife by the men, out of the linden or maple tree. Moss constitutes the bed of the infant, and is also put between the child's feet to keep them apart and adjust the shape of them, according to custom. A one-point blanket of the trade, is the general and immediate wrapper of the infant, within the hoop, and the ornamented swathing band is wound around the whole, and gives it no little resemblance to the case of a small mummy. As the bow passes directly above the face and eyes, trinkets are often hung upon this, to amuse it, and the child gets its first ideas of ornament from these. The hands are generally bound down with the body, and only let out occasionally, the head and neck being the only part which is actually free. So bound and laced, hooped and bowed, the little fabric, with its inmate, is capable of being swung on its mother's back, and carried through the thickest forest without injury. Should it sven fall no injury can happen. The bow protects the only exposed part of the frame. And when she stops to rest, or enters the lodge, it can be set aside like any other household article, or hung up by the cradle strap on a peg. Nothing, indeed, could be better adapted to the exigencies of the forest life. And in such tiny fabrics, so cramped and bound, and bedecked and trinketed, their famous Pontiacs and King Philips, and other prime warriors, were once carried, notwithstanding the skill they afterwards acquired in wield- ing the lance and war club. The Indian child, in truth, takes its first lesson in the art of endurance, in the cradle. When it cries it need not be unbound to nurse it. If the mother be young, she must put it to sleep herself If she have younger listers or daughters they share this care with her. If the lodge be roomy and high, as lodges sometimes are, the cradle is suspended to the top poles 390 CRADLE SONOS Or THE rOREIT. 391 to be iwung. If not, or the weather be fine, it is tied to the limb of a tree, with i mall cordt made from the inner bark of the linden, and a ri* bratory motion given to it from head to foot by the mother or some atlcn> dant. The motion thui communicated, is that of the pendulum or com* mon swing, and may be supposed to be the easiest and most agreeable possible to the child. It is from this motion that the leading idea of the ciadlo song is taken. I have often seen the red mother, or perhaps a sister of the child, lei* surely 3winging a pretty ornamented cradle to and fro iu this way, in order to put the child to sleep, or simply to amuse it. The following spa cimens of these wild-wood chaunts, or wigwam lullabys, are taken from my notes upon this subject, during many years of familiar intercourse with the aboriginals. If they are neither numerous nor attractive, placed side by side with the rich nursery stores of more refined life, it is yet a plea- sant fact to have found such things even existing at all amongst a people supposed to possess so few of the amenities of life, and to have so little versatility of character. Meagre as these specimens seem, they yet involve no small degree of philological diligence, as nothing can be more delicate than the inflexions of these pretty chaunts, and the Indian woman, like her white sister, gives a delicacy of intonation to the roughest words of her language. The term wa-wa often introduced denotes a ivave of the air, or the circle des- cribed by the motion of an object through it, as we say, swing, swing, a term never applied to a wave of water. The latter la called tegoo, or if it be crowned with foam, beta. In introducing the subjoined specimens of these simple see saws of the lodge and forest chaunts, the writer felt, that they were almost too frail of structure to be trusted, without a gentle hand, amidst his rougher materials. He is permitted to say, in regard to them, that they have been exhibited to Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith, herself a refined enthusiast of the woor^s, and that the versions from the original given, are from her chaste aiA truthful pen. In the following asch little song, the reader has only to imagine a play- ful girl trying to put a restless child to sleep, who pokes its little head, with black hair and keen eyes over the side of the cradle, and the girl sings, imitating its own piping tones. Ah wanain? Ah wa nain? Wa yau was sa- Ko pwasod. (Who is this?) (Who is this?) (Giving light — ^meaning the light of the eye) (Ou the top of my lodgs.) Who IS this? who is this? eye-light bringing To the roof of the lodge ? 392 CBADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. And then she assumes the tone of the little screech owl, and answen~- , ., Kobkobkob (It is I— the little owl) Nim be e zhau (Coming,) Kob kob kob (It is I— the little owl) Nim bee zhau (Coming,) Kitche — kitche. ; (Downl down!) - It is I, it is I, hither swinging, (wa wa) Dodge, dodge, baby dodge ; And she springs towards it and down goes the little head. This m repeated with the utmost merriment upon both sides. Who is this, who is this eye-light bringing ' To the roof of my lodge ? It is I, it is I, hither swinging, t Dodge, dodge, baby dodge. ^ Here is another, slower and monotonous, but indicating the utnuMt maternal content : Swinging, swinging, lul la by, i Sleep, little daughter sl^ep, , . |^ 'Tis your mother watching by. Swinging, swinging she will keep, Little daughter lul la by. 'Tis your mother loves you dearest. Sleep, sleep, daughter sleep, Swinging, swinging, ever nearest, Baby, baby, do not weep; Little daughter, lul la by. Swinging, swinging, lul la by, Sleep, sleep, little one. And thy mother will be nigh — Swinn;, swing, not alone — ,' Little daughter, lul la by. This of course is exceedingly simple, but be it remembered these chaunts are always so in the most refined life. The ideas are the same, that of tenderness and protective care only, the ideas being few, the lan- guage is in accordance. To my mind it has been a matter of extreme interest to observe how almost identical are the expressions of afieciion in all states of society, as though these primitive elements admit of no pro- gress, but are perfect m themselves. The e-we-yea of the Indian woman is entirely analogous to the lul la by of our language, and will be seen to be exceedingly pretty In itself. 01 E 8( tl te ID g< in (I id bj la Btl til in n cv CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST. 393 »— 'hia it tttmoU 2. The original words of this, with their literal import, are also added, to preserve the identity. {^) • Wa wa— wa wa — wa we yea, (Swinging, twice, lullaby.) Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun, (Sleep thou, thrice.) Nedaunis-ais, e we yea, (Ldttle daughter, lullaby.) Wa wa — wa wa — wa wa, (Swinging, thrice.) Nedaunis-ais, e we yea, (Little daughter lullaby.) (b.) Keguh, ke gun ah wain e ma, (Your mother cares for you.) Nebaun — nebaun — ^nebaun, e we yea, (Sleep, thrice, lullaby.) Kago, saigizze-kain, nedaunis-ais, (Do not fear, my little daughter.) Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun, (Sleep, thrice.) Kago, saigizze-kain, wa wa, e we yea, (third line repeated.) (c.) Wa wa — wa wa — wa we yea, (Swinging, twice, lullaby.) Kaween neezheka kediausee, (Not alone art thou.) , Ke kan nau wai,ne me go, suhween, (Your mother is caring for you.) Nebaun — nebaun — nedaunis-ais, (Sleep, sleep, my little daughter.) Wa wa — wa wa — wa we yea, (Swinging, &c. lullaby.) Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun, (Sleep! sleep I sleep.*) these same, le lan- ctreme ion in pro- iToman een to THE HARE AND THE LYNX. 3. The story of the Wabose, (Hare,) and the Pighieu, (Lynx,) will at once remind the reader of the so often recited tale of little Red Riding Hood, in which the reciter imitates the tones of the wolf, and the little nur- sery listener hears with a growing amazement, and starts as if he felt the real wolf's teeth at the close. This story is partly spoken and partly sung. The Teller imitating al- ternately the Hare, and its enemy, the Lynx. There was once, she says, a little Hare living in the lodge with its grand- mother, who was about to send it back to its native land. When it had gone but a little way, a Lynx appeared in the path, and began to sing, • These translations are entirely literal — the verbs to "sleep" and to " fear," requir- ing the imperative mood, second person, present tense, throughout. In rendering the term " wa-wa" in the participial form some doubt may exist, but this has been terminated by the idea of the existing motion, which is clearly implied, although the word is not marked by the usual form of the participle in ing. The phrase lul-la-by, is the only one in our language, which conveys the evident meaning of the choral term e-we-yea. The sub- stantive verb is wanting, in the first line of b. and the third of c. in the two forms o' the verfj, to care, or take care of a person ; but it is present in the phrase " kediausee" in the second line of c. These facts are stated, not that they are of the slightest inte- rest to the common reader, but that they may be ezamthr ,ext, who did Ukewiie, and he passed it to the next, until it gone th' ^tire rounds, and each one had contributed some wood and t ae paint, ^le was then conducted to the place of execution. For tim xirpose tki. y had chosen an open grassy glade, near a cornfield, where ihero wen a few trees. The spot selected was between two of these trees, standing about five feet apart, in Jie centre of which a small fire was kindled, with the wood thus ceremo- niously contributed. Three bars had been tied across, from tree to tree, above this fire, at such a graded height, that the poinds of the blaze, when at its maximum, might just reach to her feet. Upon-this scafibld she was compelled to mount, when a warrior at each side of her held fire under her arm pits. When this had been continued as long as they sup- posed she could endure the torture, without extinguishing life, at a g^ven signal, a band of armed bow-men let fly their darts, and her body, at almost the same instant, was pierced with a thousand arrows. These were immediately withdrawn, and her flesh then cut with knives, from hef thighs, arms and body, in pieces not longer than half a dollar, and put into little baskets. All this was done before life was quite extinct. The field of newly planted corn reached near to this spot. This corn had been dropped in the hill, but not covered with earth. The principal chief then took of the flesh, and going to a hill of com, squeezed a drop of blood upon the grains. This was done by each one, until all the grains put into the ground, had received this extraordinary kind of sprink- ling. This horrible cruelty took place in the vicinity of Council Blufis. Offers to redeem the life of the prisoner had been made by the traders, in a full council of eighty chiefs and w^arriors, but they were rejected. The original narrator was an eye witness. He concludes his description by adding, that his wife's brother, a Pawnee, had been taken prisoner by the Sioux, in the month of June following, and treated in the same manner. Truly, it may be said that the precincts of the wild roving Red man, are "full of the abodes of cruelty." 'i^^fj ': >. Hunting and war are arts which require to be taught. The Indian youth, if they were not furnished with bows and arrows, would never learn to kill. The same time spent to teach them war and huntmg, if devoted to teach them letters, would make them readers and writers. Ed* ucation is all of a piece. Example is more persuasive than precept in teaching an Indian. Tell him that he should never touch alcohol, and he may not see clearly why ; but show him, by your mvariable practice, that you never do, and he may be led to confide in your admonitions. 404 *'thb loon upon the lakb." ''THE LOON UPON THE LAKE. » BT B. V. HOrmAlf. Uhtm Iha Ohlpp«WK.*J I LOOKBD acroM the water, I bent o'er it and liitened, I thought it was my lover, My true lover's paddle glistened. JoyouB thus his light canoe would the silver ripples wake.— But no !— it is the Loon alone — the loon upon the lake. Ah me ! it is the loon alone— the loon upon the lake. i sBR henry's OAPTIYITT. the Indians nor suflfering injury ; and from this circumstance I conceived a hope of finding security in their houses. Between the yard door of my own house and that of M. Langlade, my next neighbor, there was only a low fence, over which I easily climbed. At my entrance I found the whole family at the windows, gazing at the scCi e of blood before them. I addressed myself immedi- ately to M. Langlade, begging that he would put me into some place of safety, until the heat of the affair should be over ; an act of charity by which he might perhaps preserve me from the general massacre ; but while I uttered my petition, M. Langlade, who had looked for a moment at me, turned again to the window, shrugging his shouldei-s, and intimating that he could do nothing for me: " Que voudriez-vovs gw j'cn ferain ? " This was a moment for despair ; but the next, a Pani woman,* a slave of M. Langlade's, beckoned to me to follow her. She brought me to a door, which she opened, desiring me to enter, and telling me that it led to the garret, where I must go and conceal myself. I joyfully obeyed her directions; and she, having followed me up to the garret- door, locked it after me, and with great presence of mind took away the key. This shelter obtained, if shelter I could hope to find it, I was natu- rally anxious to know what might still be passing without. Through an aperture, which afford(^ me a view of the area of the fort, I beheld, «i^ shanf.*||j^^\c foulc-'. and ro«:V terrible, the ferocious triumphs oi b'.»..an;iii conquerors, llie dead were scalped and mangled; the dying were writhing and shrieking under the unsatiated knife and tomahawk; and from the bodies of some, ripped open, their butchers were drinking the blood, scooped up in the hollow of joined hands, and quaffed amid shouts of rage and victory. I was shaken not only with horror, but with fear. The sufferings which I witnessed, I seemed on the point of experiencing. No long time elapsed before, every one being destroyed who could be found, there wiis a general cry of " All is finished!" At the same instant I heard some of the Indians enter the house in which I was. The garret was separated from the room below only by a layer of single boards, at once the flooring of the one and the ceiling of the other. I could therefore hear every thing that passed ; and the Indians no sooner came in than they inquired whether or not any Englishmen were in the house. M. Langlade replied that " he could not say ; he did * The Panies are an Indian nation of the SoutL 4a» ALEXANDER UBNRT's OAFTiyiTT. not know of any ;" answers in which he did not exceed the truth ; for the Pani woman had not only hidden me by stealth, but kept my secret and her own. M. Langlade was therefore, as I presume, as far from a wish to destroy me as he was careless about saving me, when he added to these answers, that " they might examine for themselves, and would soon be satisfied as to the object of their question." Saying this, he brought them to the garret-door. , The state of my mind will be imagined. Arrived at the door, some delay was occasioned by the absence of the key, and a few mo- ments were thus allowed me in which to look around for a hiding place. In one corner of the garret was a heap of those vessels of birch bark, used in maple sugaa* making, as I have recently des- cribed. The door was unlocked and opened, and the Indians ascending the stairs, before I had completely crept into a small opening which pre- sented itself at one end of the heap. An instant after, four Indians entered the room, all armed with tomahawks, and all besmeared with blood upon every part of their bodies. The die appeared to be cast I could scarcely breathe ; but I thought the throbbing of my heart occasioned a noise loud enough to betray me. The Indians walked in every direction about the garret, and or-: ot them approached me so closely that at a particular mo- ioent, hatl he put forth liis hand, he miyst have touched me. Still I remained undiscovered ; a circumstance to Avhich the dark color of my clothes, and the want of light in the room, which had no window, and in the corner in which I was, must have contributed. In a word, after taking several turns in the room, during which they told M. Langlade how many they had killed, and how many scalps they had taken, they returned down stairs, and I, with sensations not to be expressed, heard the door, which was the barrier between me and my fate, locked for the second time. There was a feather-bed on the floor ; and on this, exhausted as I was by the agitation of my mind, I threw myself down and fell asleep. In this state I remmned till the dusk of the evening, when I was awakened by a second opening of the door. The person that now entered was M. Langlade's wife, who was much surprised at find- ing me, but advised me not to be uneasy, observing that the Indians had killed most of the English, but that she hoped I might myself escape. A shower of rain having begun to fall, she had come to stop a hole in the roof. On her going away, I begged her to send me a Httlc water to drink ; which, she did. MSZANDSR HBHirr'S CAPTIVnT. 423 I stop me Ab night was now advancing, I continued to lie on the bed, rumi- nating on my condition, but unable to discover a resource from which I could hope for life. A flight to Detroit had no probable chance of success. The distance from Michilimackinac was four hundred miles ; I was without provisions ; and the whole length of the road lay through Indian countries, countries of an enemy in arms, where the first man whom I should meet would kill me. To stay where I was threatened nearly the same issue. As before, fatigue of mind, and not tranquility, suspended my cares, and procured me further sleep. The game of baggatiway, as from the description above, will have been perceived, is necessarily attended with much violence and noise. In the ardor of contest, the ball, as has been suggested, if it cannot be thrown to the goal desired, is struck in any direction by which it can be diverted from that designed by the adversary. At such a moment, therefore, nothing could be less liable to excite premature alarm, than that the ball should be tossed over the pickets of the Fort, nor that, having fallen there, it should be followed on the instant by all engaged in the game, as well the one party as the other, aU eager, all struggling, all shouting, all in the unrestrained pursuit of a rude athletic exercise. Nothing could be less fitted to excite prema- ture alarm ; nothing, therefore, could be more happily devised, under the circumstances, than a stratagem like this ; and this was, in fact» the stratagem which the Indians had employed, by which they had obtained possession of the Fort, and by which they had been enabled to slaughter and subdue its garrison, and such of its other inha- bitants as they pleased. To be still more certain of success, they had prevailed upon as many as they could, by a pretext the least liable to suspicion, to come voluntarily without the pickets ; and par* ticularly the commandant and garrison themselves. The respite which sleep aflforded me, during the night, was put an end to by the return of morning. I was again on the rack of appre- hension. At sunrise, I heard the family stirring ; and presently after Indian voices, informing M. Langlade that they had not found my hapless self among the dead, and they supposed me to be some- where concealed. M. Langlade appeared, from what followed, to be by this time acquainted with the place of my reti-eat, of which, no doubt, he had been informed by his wife. The poor woman, as soon as the Indians mentioned me, declared to her husband, in the French tongue, that he should no longer keep me in his house, but deliver me up to my pursuers; giving as a reason for this neasure, that should the Indians discover his instrumentality in my 424 ALIXANDBR HSimT'S OAFTIYITT. concealinent, they might revenge it on her children, and that it vraa better that I should die than they. M. Langlade resisted at first this sentence of his wife's, but soon suffered her to prevail, informing the Indians that he had been told I was in his house, that I had come there without his knowledge, and that he would put me into their hands. This was no sooner expressed than ho began to ascend the stairs, the Indians following upon his heels. I now resigned myself to the fate with which I was menaced ; and regarding every attempt at concealment as vain, I arose from the bed, and presented myself full in view to the Indians who were enter- ing the room. They were all in a state of intoxication, and ent"'»ly naked, except about the middle. One of them, name(' Veu. % whom I had previously known, and who was upward oi six feet ^ height, had his entire face and body covered with charcoal and grease, only that a white spot, of two inches in diameter, encircled either eye. This man walked up to me, seized me with one hand by the collar of the coat, while in the other he held a large carving knife, as if to plunge it in my breast ; his eyes meanwhile were fixed steadfastly on mine. At length, after some seconds of the most anxious suspense, he dropped his arm, spying, "I won't kill you !" To this he added, that he had frequently engaged in wars against the English, and had brought away many scalps ; that on a certain occasion he had lost a brother, whose name was Musinigon, and that I should be called after him. A reprieve upon any terms placed me among the living, and gave me back the sustaining voice of hope ; but Wenniway ordered me down stairs, and there informed me that I was to be taken 'to his cabin, where, and indeed every where else, the Indians were all mad with liquor, death again was threatened, and not as possible only, but as certain. I mentioned my fears on this subject tC' M. Langlade, begging him to represent the danger to my master. M. Langlade, m this instance, did not withhold his compassion, and Wenniway immedi- ately consented that I should remain where I was, until he found another opportunity to take me away. Thus far secure, I reascended my garret stairs, in order to place myself the furthest possible out of the reach of insult from drunken Indians; but I had not remained there more than an hour, when I was called to the room below, in which was an Indian, who said that I must go with him out of the Fort, Wenniway having sent him to fetch me. This man, as well as Wenniway himself, I had seen before. In the preceding year, I had allowed him to take goods on credit, for which he was still in my debt ; and some short time previous to AUtZAlTDIR HKKRT'S OAFTITITT. 426 the Burprise of the Fort, ho had said, upon my upbraiding him with want of honesty, that "he would pay me before long!" This speech now came fresh into my memory, and led me to suspect that the fellow had formed a design against my life. I communicated the suspicion to M. Langlade ; but he gave for answer that " I was not now my own master, and must do as I was ordered." The Indian, on his part, directed that before I left the house, I should undress myself, declaring that my coat and shirt would become him belter than they did me. His pleasure in this respect being complied with, no other alternative was left me than either to go out naked, or put on the clothes of the Indian, which he freely ga\e me in exchange. His motive for thus stripping me of my own apparel V iio other, as I afterwards learned, than this, that it might not be stained with blood when he should kill me. I was now told to proceed; and my driver followed me close, until I had passed the gate of the Fort, when I turned toward the spot where I knew the Indians to be encamped. This, however, did not suit the purpose of my enemy, who seized me by the arm, and drew me violently in the opposite direction, to the distance of fifty yards above the Fort Here, finding that I was approaching the bushes and sand hills, I determined to proceed no further, but told the Indian thi'.i I believed he meant to murder me, and if so he might as wel! itrike where I was as at any greater distance. He replied with coolness, that my suspicions were just, and that he meant to pay me in this manner for my goods. At the same time he produced a knife, and held me in a position to receive the intended blow. Both this and that which followed were necessarily the aflfsur of a moment By some eflfort, too sudden and too little dependent on thought to be explained or remembered, I was enabled to arrest his arm, and give him a sud- den push, by which I turned him from me, and releped myself from his grasp. This was no sooner done than I ran toward the Fort, with all the swiftness in my power, the Indian following me, and I expecting every moment to feel his knife. I succeeded ui my flight; and, on entering the Fort, I saw Wcnniway standing in the midst of the area, and to him I hastened for protection. Wenniway desired the Indian to desist ; but the latter pursued me round him, making several strokes at me with his knife, and foaming at the mouth with rage at the repeated failure of his purpose. At length Wenniway drew near to M. Langlade's house ; and the door being open, I ran into it The Indian followed me ; but on my entering the house, he voluntarily abandoned the pursuit 4M ALBXANDsn BMrRT's oArnnrTk t ^^ Preserved so often, and so unexpectedly, as it had now been my lot to be, I returned to my garret, with a strong inclination to believe that, through the will of an overruling power, no Tndiau enemy coiild do me hurt ; but new trials, as I believed, were at hand, when, at ten o'clock in the evening, I was roused from sleep, and once more desired to descend the stairs. IS'ot less, however, to my satisfaction than surprise, I was summoned only to meet Major Etherington, Mr. Bostwick, and Lieu- tenan Lcsslie, who were in the room below. These gentlemen had been taken prisoners, while looking at the game, without the Fort, and immediately stripped of all their clothea They were now sent into the fort, under the charge of Canadians, because, the Indians havbg resolved on getting drunk, the chiefs were apprehensive that they would be murdered if they continued in the camp. Lieutenant Jemette and seventy soldiers had been killed ; and but twenty English- men, including soldiers, were still alive. These were all within the fort, together with nearly three hundred Canadians belonging to the canoes, rity for the payment For myself, he observed, I had no longer any prop- erty in that country. I had no more to say to M. Langlade ; but presently seebg another Canadian, named John Cuchoise, I addressed to him a similar request, and was not refused. Naked as I was, and rigorous as was the weather, but for the blanket I must have perished. At noon, our party was all collected, the prisoners all embarked, and we steered for the Isle du Castor, [Beaver Island,] in Lake Michigan. ' The soldier, who was our companion in misfortune, was made fast to a bar of the canoe, by a rope tied round his neck, as is the manner of the Indians in transporting their prisoners. The rest were left unconfined ; but a paddle was put into each of our hands, and we were made to use it The Indians in the canoe were seven in num- ber, the prisoners four. I had left, as it will be recollected. Major Ethcrington, Lieutenant Lesslie and Mr. Bostwick, at M. Langlade's, and was now joined in misery with Mr. Ezekiel Solomons, the soldier, and the Englishman who had newly arrived from Detroit This was on the sixth day of June. The Fort was taken on the fourth ; I surren- dered myself to Wenniway on the fifth ; and this was the third day of our distress. We were bound, as I have stud, for the Isles du Castor, which lie iu the mouth of Lake Michigan ; and we should have crossed the lake, but that a thick fog came on, on account of which the Indians deemed it safer to keep the shore close under their lee. We there- fore approached the lands of the Ottawas, and their village of L'Arbre Croche, already mentioned as lying about twenty miles to the westward of Michilimackinac, on the opposite side of the tongue of land on which the Fort is built Every half hour, the Indians gave their warwhoop, one for every prisoner in their canoe. This is a general custom, by the aid of which, all other Indians, within hearing, are apprised of the number of prisoners they are carrying. • ^ In this manner we reached Wagoshense, Fox-point, a long point, stretching westward into the lake, and which the Ottawas make a carrying place, to avoid going round it It is distant eighteen miles from Michilimackinac. After the Indians had made their warwhoop, as before, an Ottawa appeared upon the beach, who made signs that we 4S8 ALKZANDER HXNRT'B OAPTIVITT. should land. In consequence, we approaclicd. The Ottawa asked the news, and kept the Chippeways in further conversation, till we were within a few yards of the land, and in shallow water. At this mo- ment, a hundred men rushed upon us, from among the bushes, and dragged all the prisoners out of the canoe, amid a terrifying shout. We now believed that our last suflferings were approaching ; but no sooner were wc fairly on shore, and on our legs, than the chiefs of the party advanced, and gave each of us their hands, telling us that they were our friends, and Ottawas, whom the Chippeways had insulted, by destroying the English without consulting with them on the aflTuir. They added that what they had done was for the purpose of saving our hves, the Chippeways having been carrying us to the Isles du Castor only to kill and devour us. The reader's imagination is hero distracted by the variety of our fortunes, and he may well paint to himself the state of mind of those who sustained them, who were the sport or the victims of a series of events, more like dreams than realities, more like fiction than truth! It was not long before we weri, embarked again, in the canoes of the Ottawas, who, the same evening, relanded us at Michilimackinac, where they marched us into the Fort, in view of the Chippewas, confounded at beholding the Ottawas espousing a side opposite to their own. The Ottawas, who had accompanied us in sufficient numbers, took pos- session of the Fort We, who had changed masters, but were still prisoners, were lodged in the house of the commandant, and strictly guarded. Early the next morning, a general council was held, in which the Chipp||(i||,-^^/;ompk/ncd^'vach of the conduct of the Ottawie, was uf extraordinary interest: "Friends and relations," he began, "what is it that I shall say? You know what I feel. You all have friends and brothers and chil- dren, whom as yourselves you- love ; and you, what would y(»u expc» ricnce, did you, like me, behold your dearest friend — your brother — in the condition of a slave ; a slave exposed every moment to insult, and to menaces of death ? This case, as you all know, is mine. See there, {^pointing to rmj9ef/,) my friend and brother among slaves, himself a slave ! " You all well know that long before the war began, I adopted him as my brother. From that moment he became one of my family, so that no change of circumstances could break the cord which fastened us together. "He is my brother; and, because I am your relation, he is therefore your relation, too : and how, being your relation, can ho be your slave ? " ' " On the day on which the war began, you were fearful, lest on this vciy account, I should reveal your secret You requested, there- fore, that I would leave the Fort, and even cross the lake. I did so, but did it with reluctance. I did it with reluctance, notwithstanding tliat you, Mcnehwehna, who had the command in this enterprise, gave me your promise that you would protect my friend, delivering him from all danger, anil giving him safely to mc. " The performance of this promise I now claim. I come not with empty hands to ask it. ^-u, Menehwehna, best know whether or not, as it respects yours'li, you have kept your word; but I bring these goods, to buy off every claim which any man among you all may have on my brother, as his prisoner." Wawatam having ceased, the pipes were again filled ; and, after they were finished, a further period of silence followed. At the end of this, Menehwehna arose and gave his reply: " My relation and brother," said he, " what you have spoken is the truth. We were acquainted with the friendship which subsisted between yourself and the Englishman, in whose behalf you have now addressed us. We knew the danger of having our secret discovered, and the consequences which must follow ; and you say truly that we requested you to leave the Fort This we did out of regard for you and your family; for, if a discovery of our design had been made, you would '<- MBZAHDKR HXNRT's OAFTtVITT. 431 have been blnihcd, whothcr guilty or not ; and you would thus have been involved in difficulties from which you could nut hnvu extri- cated your8el£ "It is alst) true that. I promised you to take care of your friend; and this promise I performed, by desiring my son, at the moment of assault, to seek him out, and bring him to my lodge. Ho went accordingly, but could not find him. The day after I sent him to Langlade's, when ho was informed that your friend was safe ; and hud it not been that tho Indians were then drinking the rum which had been found in tho Fort, he would havo brought him home with him, according to my orders. " I am very glad to find that your friend has escaped. We ac- cept your present; and you may take him homo with you." V iwatam thanked the assembled chiefs, and taking rac by the hand, led mo to Lis lodge, which was at the distance of a few yards only from I'lc pr'sun lodge. My entrance appeared to give joy to the whole family; .""od was immed'lxtely prepared for mc; and I now ato the first hearty meal ^^ ''•-h I had made since my capture. I found myself one of the uui ly; and but that I had still my fears, as to the other In'''.ins, I felt as hripy as tho situation could allow. In the coji'ce of the next morning, I was alarmed by a noise in the prison lodge ; and looking through tho openings of the lodge in which I was, I saw seven dead bodies ol' white men dragged forth. Upon my inquiry into the occasion, I was informed that a certain chief, called by the Canadians Lo Grand Sable, had not long before arrived from iiis winter's hunt; and that he having been absent when the war begun, and being now desirous of manifesting to the Indiana at large his hearty concurrence in what they had done, had gone into the prison lodge, and there, with his knife, put the seven men, whose bodies I had seen, to death. Shortly after, two of the Indians took one of the dead bodies, which ih' ;.• chose as being the fattest, cut off the head, and divided the whole mto five parts, one of which was put into each of five kettles, hung over as many fires kindled for this purpose, at the door of tho prison lodge. Soon after things were so far prepared, a message came to our lodge, with an invitation to Wawatam to assist at the feast. An invitation to a feast is given by him who is the master of it Small cuttings of cedar wood, of about four inches in length, supply the place of cards ; and the bearer by word of mouth states the particulars. Wawatam obeyed the summons, taking with him, as usual, to the place of entertainment, his dish and spoon. 432 AlBZANOER HKNRT'S OAPTIVlTr. After an absence of about half an hour, he returned, bringing in his dish a human hand, and a large piece of flesh. He did not appear to relish the repast, but told me that it was then, and always had been the custom among all the Indian nations, when returning from war, or on overcoming their enemies, to make a war-feast from among the slain. This he said inspired the warrior with courage in attack, and bred him to meet death with fearlessness. In the evening of the same day, a large canoe, such as those which came from Montreal, was seen advancing to the fort It was full of men, and I distinguished several passengers. The Indian cry was made in the village ; a general muster' ordered ; and to the number of two hundred they marched up to the fort, where the canoe was expected to land. The canoe, suspecting nothing, came boldly to the fort, where the passengers, as being English traders, were seized, dragged through the water, beat, reviled, marched to the prison lodge, and there stripped of their clothes and confined. Of the English traders that fell into the hands of the Indians at the capture of the Fort, Mr. Tracy was the only one who lost his life. Mr. Ezekiel Solomons and Mr. Henry Bostwick were taken by the Otta-> was, and after the peace carried down to Montreal, and there ransomed. Of ninety troops, about seventy \'ere killed; the rest, together with those of the posts in the Bay des Puants, and at tl^ river St Joseph, were also kept in safety by the Ottawas till the peace, and then either freely restored, or ransomed at Montreal. The Ottiwas never overcame their disgust at the neglect with which they had been treated, in the be- ginning of the war, by those who afterwards desired then* assistance as allies. In the morning of the ninth of June, a general council was held, at which it was agreed to remove to the island of Michiliraackinac, as a more defensible situation in the event of an attack by the English. The Indians had begun to entertain apprehensions of want of strength. No news had reached them from the Potawatamies, in the Bay des Puants ; and they were uncertain whether or not the Monomins would join them. They even feared that the Sioux would take the English side. This resolution fixed, they prepared for a speedy retreat At noon the camp was broken up, and we embarked, taking with us the pris- oners that were still undisposed of. On our passage we encountered a gale of wind, and there were some appearances of danger. To avert it, a dog, of which the legs were previously tied together, was thrown into the lake ; an offering designed to soothe the angry passions of some offended Manito. AUBXANDER REITBT'S OAPTIVITT. 433 held, as a The , No uants; jom side. nooQ pris- fitered » avert hrown some As we approached the island, two women in the canoe in which I was, began to utter melancholy and hideous cries. Precarious as my condition still remained, I experienced some sensations of alarm from these dismal sounds, of which I could not then discover the occasion. Subsequently, I learned that it is customary for the women, on pjissing near the burial places of relations, never to omit the practice of whicli I was now a witness, and by which they intend to denote their grief. By the approach of evening we reached the island in safety, and the women were not long in erecting our cabins. In the morning, there was a muster of the Indians, at which there were found three hundred and fifty fighting men. In the course of the day, there arrived a canoa from Detroit, with ambassadors, who endeavored to prevail on the Indians to repair thither to the assistance of Pontiac ; but fear was now the prevailing passion. A guard was kept during the day, and a watch by night, and alarms were very frequently spread. Had an enemy appeared, all the pris- oners would have been put to death ; and I suspec^d that, as an Englishman, I should share their fate. Several days had now passed, when one morning a continued alarm prevailed, and I saw the Indians running in a confused manner toward the beach. In a short time I learned that two large canoes from Montreal were in sight All the Indian canoes were immediately manned, and those from Montreal were surrounded and seized, as they turned a point behind which the flotilla had been concealed. The goods were consigned to a Mr. Levy, and would have been saved if the canoe men had called them French property ; but they were terrified and disguised nothing. In the canoes was a large proportion of liquor, a dangerous acqui- sition, and which threatened disturbance among the Indians, even to the loss of their dearest friends. Wawatam, always watchful of my safety, no sooner heard the noise of drunkenness, which in the evening did not feul to begin, than he represented to me the danger of remaining in the village, and owned that he could not himself resist the temptation of joining his comrades in the debauch. That I might escape all mischief he therefore requested that I would accompany him to the moimtain, where I was to remain hidden till the liquor should be drank. We ascended the mountain accordingly. It is this mountain which constitutes that high land in the middle of the island, of which I have spoken before, as a figure considered as resembUng a turtle, and therefore called Michilimackinac. It is thickly covered with wood, and very toward the top. After walking more than half a mile, we came rocky 28 4f4 iXKZANDKR HBNRT'S OAFTIVITT. to a large rock, at the base of which was an opening, dark within, and appearing to be the entrance of a cave. Here, Wawatam recommended that I should take up my lodging, and by all means remain till he returned. ' On going into the cave, of which the entrance was nearly ten feet wide, I found the further end to be rounded in its F-hape, like that of an oven, but with a further aperture, too small, however, to be explored. After thus looking around me, I broke small branches from the trees, and spread them for a bed; then wrapped myself in my blanket and slept till daybreak. On awaking I felt myself incommoded by some object upon which I lay ; and removing it, found it to be a bone. This I supposed to be that of a deer, or some other animal, and what might very naturally be looked for in the place in which it was; but, when daylight visited my chamber, I discovered, with some feelings of horror, that I was lying on nothing less than a heap of human bones and skulls, which covered all the floor! The day pasted without the return of Wawatam, and w^ithout food. As night approached, I found myself unable to meet its darkness in the charnel-house, which, nevertheless, I had viewed free from uneasi- ness during the day. I chose, therefore, an adjacent bush Tor this night's lodging, and slept under it as before ; but in the morning, I awoke hun- gry and dispirited, and almost envying the dry bones, to the view of wliich I returned. At length the sound of a foot reached me, and my Indian friend appeared, making many apologies for his long absence, the cause of which was an unfortunate excess in the enjoyment of his liquor. This point being expMned, I mentioned the extraordinary sight that had presented itself in the cave to which he had commended my slum- bers. He had never heard of its existence before; and, upon exam- ining the cave together, we saw reason to believe that it had been anciently filled with human bodies. On returning to the lodge, I experienced a cordial reception from the family, which consisted of the wife of my friend, his two snos, of whom the eldest was married, and whose wife, and a daughter of thirteen years of age, completed the list Wawatam related to the other Indians, the adventure of the bones. All of them expressed surprise at hearing it, and declared that they had never been aware of the contents of this cave before. After visiting it, which they immediately did, ahnost every one offered a different opinion as to its history. ALBXAKDER BXVKT'b OAPTIVITT. 495 Some advanced, that at a period when the waters orerflowed tho land, (an evejit which makes a distinguished figure in the history of their world,) the inhabitants of this island had fled into the cave, and been there drowned; others, that those same inhabitants, when the Hurons made war upon them, (as tradition says they did,) hid themselves m the cave, and being discovered, were there massacred. For myself, I am disposed to believe that this cave was an ancient receptacle of the bones of prisoners, sacrificed and devoured at war-feasts. I have always observed that the Indians pay particular attention to the bones of sac- rifices, preserving them unbroken, and depositing them in some place kept exclusively for that purpose. A few days after the occurrence of the incidents recorded above, Menehwehna, whom I now found to be the great chief of the village of Michilimackinac, came to the lodge of my friend ; and when the usual ceremony of smoking was finished, he observed that Indians were now daily arriving from Detroit, some of whom had lost relations or friends in the war, and who would certainly retaliate on any Englishman they found ; upon which accoimt, his errand Avas to advise that I should bo di-essed Uke an Indian, an expedient whence I might hope to escape all future insult I could not but consent to the proposal, and the chief was so kind as to assist my friend and his family in effecting that very day the desired metamorphosis. My hair was cut off, and my head shaved, with the exception of a spot on the crown, of about twice the diameter of a crown-piece. My face was painted with' three or four different colors; some parts of it red, and others black. A shirt was provided for me, painted with vermilion, mixed with grease. A large collar of wampum was put round my neck, and another suspended on my breast Botli my arms were decorated with large bands of silver above the elbow, besides several smaller ones on the wrists ; and my legs were covered with mitascs, a kind of hose, made, as is the favorite fashion, of scarlet cloth. Over all, I was to wear a scarlet blanket or mantle, and on my head a large bunch of feathers. I parted, not without some regret, with the long hair which was natural to it, and which I fancied to be ornamentjil ; but the ladies of the family, and of the village in general, appeared to think my person improved, and now condescended to call me handsome, even among Indians. Protected, in a great measure, by this disguise, I felt myself more at liberty than before; and the season being arrived in which my clerks from the interior were to be expected, and some part of my property, as I had a right to hope, recovered, I begged the favor of Wawatam 480 AUCZANDER HENRT'S CAPTIVITT. that he would enable me to pay a short visit to Michilimackinac. He did not fail to comply, and I succeeded in finding my clerks ; but, either through the disturbed state of the country, as thoy represented to be the case, or through their misconduct, as I had reason to think, I ob- tained nothing; and nothing, or almost nothing, I now began to think would be all that I should need during the rest of my life. To fish and to hunt, to collect a few skins, and exchange them for necessaries, was all that seemed destined to do, and to acquire, for the future. I returned to the Indian village, where at this time much scarcity of food prevai d. We were often for twenty-four hours without eating; and when in t e morning we had no victuals for the day before us, the custom was to black our faces with grease and charcoal, and exhibit, through resign, ion, a temper as cheerful as if in the midst of plenty. A repetition of the evil, however, soon induced us to leave the island in search of food ; and accordingly we departed for the bay of Boutchitaouy ; distant eight leagues, and where we found plenty of wild fowl and fish. While in the bay, my guardian's daughter-in-law was taken in labor of her first child. She was immediately removed out of the common lodge; and a small one, for her separate accommodation was begun and finished by the women in less than half an hour. The next morning we heard that she was very ill, and the family began to be much alarmed on her account; the more so, no doubt, because cases of difficult labor are very rare among Indian women. In this distress, Wawatara requested me to accompany him into the woods ; and on our way informed me that if he could find a snake, he should socn secure relief to his daughter-in-law. On reaching some wet ground, we speedily obtained the object of our search, in a small snake, of the kind called the garter snake. Wawatam seized it by the neck, and holding it fast, while it coiled itself round his arm, he cut off its head, catching the blood in a cup that he had brought with him. This done, he threw away the snake, and carried home the blood, which he mixed vith (^ quantity of water. Of this mixture he administered first one table-spoonful, and shortly after a second. Within an hour the patient was safely delivered of a tine child; and Wawatum subsequently declared that the remedy, to which he had resorted, was one that never failed. On the next day, we left the bay of Boutchitaouy ; and the young mother, in high spirits, assisted in loading the canoe, barefooted, and knee-deep in the water. The medical information, the diseases, and the remedies of the Indians, often engaged my curiosity during the period through which I was S ALEXANDER HENRT'S CAPTIVITT 487 familiar with these nations ; and I sliall take this occasion to introduce a few particulars connected with their history. The Indians are in gencial free from disorders; and an instance of their being subject to dropsy, gout, or stone, never came within my knov^ledge. Inflammations of the lungs are among their most ordinary complaints; and rheumatism still more so, especially with the aged. Their mode of life, in which they are so much exposed to the wet and cold, sleeping on the ground, and inhaling the night air, sufficiently accounts for their liability to these diseases. The remedies on w^hich they most rely are emetics, cathartics, and the lancet; but especially the last Bleeding is so favorite an operation among the women that they never lose an occasion of enjoying it, whether sick or wclL I have sometimes bled a dozen women in a morning as they sat in a row, along a fallen tree, beginning with the first, opening the vein, then proceeding to the second, and so on, having three or four individuals bleeding at the same time. In most villages, and particularly in those of the Chippeways, this service was required of me; and no persuasion of mine could ever induce a woman to dispense with it In all parts of the country, and among all the nations that I have seen, particular individuals arrogate to themselves the art of healing, but principally by means of pretended sorcery; and operations of this sort are always paid for by a present made before they arc begun. Indeed, whatever, as an impostor, may be the demerits of the operator, his reward may generally be said to be fairly earned by dint of corporeal labor. I was once present at a performance of this kind, in which the patient was a female child of about twelve years of age. Several of the elder chiefs Avere invited to the scene; and the same compUment was paid to myself, on account of the medical skill for which it was pleased to give me credit The physician (so to call him) seated himself on the ground; and before him, on a new stroud blanket, was placed a basin of water, in which were three bones, the larger ones, as it appeared to me, of a swan's wing. In his hand he had his shishi 'loi, or rattle, with which he beat time to his medicine song. The sick cliild lay on a blanket, near the physician, she appeared to have much fever, and a severe oppression of the lungs, breathing with difficulty, and betraying symptoms of the last stage of consumption. After singing for some time, the physician took one of the bones out af the basin: the bone was hollow; and one end being applied to the 438 AUBXANDKR HENRt'S OAFTrVITT. breast of the patient, ho put the other into his mouth, in order to remove the disorder bv suction. Having persevered in this as long as he thought proper, he suddenly seemed to force the bono into his mouth, and swallow it He now acted the part of one suflFerhig severe pain ; but, presently, finding relief, he made a long speech, and after this returned to singing, and to the accompaniment of his rattle. With the latter during his song, he struck his head, breast, sides, and back, at the same time straining, as if to vomit forth the bone. Relinquishing this attempt, he applied himself to suction a second time, and with the second of the three bones; and this also he soon seemed to swallow. Upon its disappearance, he began to distort himself in the most fright- ful manner, using every gesture which conld convey the idea of pain ; at length he succeeded, or pretended to succeed, in throwing up one of the bones. This was handed about to the spectators, and strictly examined; but nothing remarkable could be discovered. Upon this, he went back to his song and rattle ; and after some time threw up the second of the two bones. In the groove of this, the physician upon examination, found, and displayed to all present, a small white substance, resembling a piece of the quill of a feather. It was passed round the company from one to the other; and declared, by the physician, to be the thing causing the disorder of his patient The multitude believe that these physicians, whom the French call jongleurs, or jugglers, can inflict as well as remove disorders. They believe that by drawing the figure of any person in sand or ashes, or on clay, or by considering any object as the figure of a person, and then pricking it with a sharp stick, or other substance, or doing, in any other manner, that which done to a living body vould cause pain or injury, the individual represented, or supposed to be represented, will suffer accordingly. On the other hand, the mischief being done, another physician, of equal pretensions, can by suction remove it Unfortunately however, the operations which I have described were not successful in the instance referred to; for, on the day after they had taken place, the girl died. With regard to flesh-wounds, the Indians certainly effect astonishing cures. Here, as above, much that is fantastic occurs; but the success of their practice evinces something solid. At the Sault de Sainte-Marie I knew a man who, in the result of a quarrel, received the stroke of an axe in his side. The blow wiis so violent, and the axe driven so deep, that the wretch who held it could not withdraw it, but left it in the wound, and fled. Shortly after, the ALEXANDER HENRY'b CAPTIVITY. 430 man was found, and brought into the fort, where several other Indians came to his assistance. Among these, one, who was a physician im- mediately withdrew, in order to fetch his penegu^an, or medicine bag, with which he soon returned. The eyes of the suflFerer were fixed, his teeth closed, and his case apparently desperate. The physician took from his bag a smaU portion of a very white substance, resembling that of a bone ; this he scraped into a little water, and forcing open the jaws of the patient with a stick, he poured the mixture down his throat What followed was, that in a very short space of time the wounded man moved his eyes: and beginning to vomits threw up a small lump of clotted blood. The physician now, and not before, examined the wound, from which I could see the breath escape, and from which a part of the omentum depended. This the physician did not set about to restore to its place, but, cutting it away, minced it into small pieces, and made his patient swallow it The man was then carried to his lodge, where I visited him dtuly. By the sixth day he was able to walk about; and withm a month he grew quite well, except that he was troubled with a cough. Twenty years after his misfortune he was still alive. Another man, being on his wintering-ground, and from home, hunt- ing beaver, was crossing a lake, covered with smooth ice, with two beavers on his back, when his foot slipped, and he fell At his side, in his belt, was his axe, the blade of which came upon the joint of his wrist; and, the weight of his body coming upon the blade, his hand was completely separated from his arm, with the exception of a small piece of the skin. He had to walk three miles to his lodge, which was thus far away. The skin, which alone retained his hand to his arm, he cut through, with the same axe which had done the rest; and fortunately having on a shirt, he took it off, tore it up, and made a strong ligature above the wrist, so as in some measure to avoid the loss of blood. On reaching his lodge, he cured the wound himself, by the mere use of simples. I was a witness to its perfect healmg. I have said that these physicians, jugglers, or practitioners of pre- tended sorcery, are supposed to be capable of inflicting diseases; and I may add, that they are sometimes themselves suflFerers on this account In one instance I saw one of them killed, by a man who charged him with havuig brought his brother to death by malefic arts. The accuser, in his rage, thrust his knife into the belly of the accused, and ripped it open. The latter caught his bowels m his arms, and thus 440 AtBXANDBR HENRY'S OAPTIVITT. walked toward his lodge, gathering them up, from time to time, as they escaped his hold. His lodge was at no considerable distance, and he reached it alive, and died in it Our next encampment was on the island of Saint-Martin, off Cape Saint- Ignace, so called from the Jesuit mission of Saint Ignatius to the Plurons, formerly established there. Our object was to fish for sturgeon, which we did with great success; and herfe, in the enjoyment of a plentiful and excellent supply of food, we remained until the twentieth day of August At tliis time, the autumn being at hand, and a sure prospect of increased security from hostile Indians afforded, Wawatam proposed going to his intended wintering-ground. The removal was a subject of the greatest joy to myself, on account of the frequent insults, to wliich I had still to submit, from the Indians of our band or village, and to escape from which I would freely have gone almost anywhere. At owjr wintering-ground we were to be alone ; for the Indian families, in the countries of which I write, separate in the winter season, for the convenience as well of subsistence as of the chase, and re-associato in th^ spring and summer. In preparation, our first business was to sml for Michilimackinac, where being arrived, we procured from a Canadian trader, on credit, some tri- fling articles, together with ammunition, and two bushels of maize. This done, we steered directly for lake Michigan. At L'Arbre Crocho we stopped one day on a visit to the Ottawas, where all the people, and particularly Okinochiwiaki, the chief, the same who took me from the Chippeways, behaved with great civility and kindness. The chief pre- sented me with a bag of maize. It is the Ottawas, it will be remem- bered, who raise this grain for the market of Michilimackinac. Leaving L'Arbre Croche, we proceeded direct to the mouth of the river Aux Sables, on the south side of the lake, and distant about a hundred and fifty miles from fort Michilimackinac. On our voyage we passed several deep bays and rivers, and I found the banks of the lake to consist in mere sands, without any appeai'ance of verdure ; the sand drifting from one hill to another, like snow in winter. Hence, all the rivers, which here entered the lake, are as much entitled to the epithet of sandy as that to which we were bound. They are also distinguished by another particularity, always observable in similar situations. The current of the stream being met, when the wind is contrary, by the waves of the lake, it is driven back, and the sands of the shore arc at the same time washed into its mouth. In consequence, the river is able to force a passage into the lake, broad only in proportion to its utmost AUZAKDBB BSITRt's OAFTIVITr. m strength ; while it hollows for itself, behind the sand-banks, a basin of one, two, or three miles across. In these rivers we killed many wild- fowl and beaver. To kill beaver, we used to go several miles up the rivers, before the approach of night, and after the dusk came on suffer the canoe to drift gently down the current, without noise. The beaver in this part of the evening come abroad to prociu-c food, or materials for repairing their habitations ; and as they are not alarmed by the canoe, they often pass i» within gun-shot While we thus hunted rilong our way, I enjoyed a personal freedom of which I had been long deprived, and became as expert in the Indian pursuits as the Indians themselves. On entering the river Aux Sables, Wuwatam took a dog, tied its feet together, and threw it into the stream, uttering, at the same time, a long prayer, which he addressed to the Great Spirit, suppUcating his bless- ing on the chase, and his aid in the support of the family, through the dangers of a long winter. Our lodge was fifteen miles above the mouth of the stream. The principal animals which the country afforded were the stag or red deer, the common American deer, the bear, raccoon, beaver and marten. The beaver feeds in preference on young wood of the birch, aspen, and poplar tree, [popiUus nigra called by the Canadians liard^ but in defect of these on any other tree, those of the pine and fir kinds ex- cepted. These latter it employs only for building its dams and houses. In wide meadows, where no wood is to be found, it resorts, for all its purposes, to the roots of the rush and water hlly. It consumes great quantities of food, whether of roots or wood; and hence often reduces itself to the necessity of removing into a new quarter. Its house has an arched dome-like roof, of an elliptical figure, and rises from three to four feet above the surface of the water. It is always entirely surrounded by water; but, in the banks adjacent, the animal provides holes or washes, of which the entrance is below the surface, and to which it retreats on the first alarm. The female beaver usually produces two young at a time, but not unfrequently more. During the first year the young remain with their parents. In the second they occupy an adjoining apartment, and assist in building, and in procuring food. At two years old, they part, and build houses of their own ; but often rove about for a considerable time, before they fix upon a spot There arc beavers, called by the Indians old bachelors, who live by themselves, build no houses, and work at no dams, but shelter themselves in holes. The usual method of taking 442 ALXXAWDIR BsmiT'g (lAfTiymr. thcfle is by traps, formed of iron, or logs, and baited witb branches of poplar. According to the Indians, the beaver is much given to jealousy. If a Htrange mnlu nppronchcs the cabin, a battle immediately ensues. Of tliis the femiile remains an unconcerned spectator, careless to which party the law of conquest may assign her. Among the beaver which w« killed, those who were with mo protended to show demonstrations of this fact; some of the skins of the males, and almost all of the older ones, bearing marks of violence, while none were ever to be seen on the skins of the females. Tht; Indinns add, that the male is as constant as he is jealous, never attaching himself to more than one female; while the female, on her side, is always fond of strangers. The most common way of taking the beaver is that of breaking up its house, which is done with trenching tools, during the winter, when the ice is strong enough to allow of approaching them; and when, also, the fur is in its most valuable state. Breaking up the house, however, is only a preparatory step. During this operatioij, the family make their escape to one or more of their washes. These are to be discovered by striking the ice along the bank, and where the holes are, a hollow sound is returned. After discovering and searching many of these in vain, we often found the whole family together in the same wash. I was taught occasionally to distinguish a full wash from iin empty one, by the motion of the water above its entrance, occasioned by the breathing of the animals concealed in it From the washes they must be taken out with th^ hands; and in doing this, the hunter sometimes receives severe wounds from their teeth. While a hunter, I thought, with the Indians, that the beaver flesh was very good; but after that of the ox was again within my reach, I could not relish it The tail is accounted a luxurious morsel. Beavers, say the Indians, were formerly a people endowed with speech, not less than with the other noble faculties they possess ; but the Great Spirit has taken this away from them, lest they should grow superior in understanding to mankind. The raccoon was another object of our chase. It was my practice to go out in the evening, with dogs, accompanied by the youngest son of my guardian, to hunt this animal. The raccoon never leaves its hiding place till after sunset As soon as a dog falls on a fresh track of the raccoon, he gives notice by a cry, and immediately pursues. His barking enables the hunter to follow. The raccoon, which travels slowly, and is soon overtaken, makes for a tree, on which he remains till shot AUCXANDBR nVVRT'S OIPTIVITT. 448 After the falling of the snow, nothing more is necessary, for taking the raccoon, than to follow the track of his feet In this season, he seldom leaves his habil.ition; and he never lays up any food. I have found six at a time, in the hollow of one tree, lying upon each other, and nearly in a torpid state. In more than one instance, I have ascer- tained that they have lived six weeks without food. The mouse is their principal prey. Raccoon hunting was my more particular and daily employ. I usually went out at the first dawn of day, and seldom returned till sunset, or till I had ladon myself with as many animals as I could carry. By degrees I became familiarized with this kind of life; and had it not I. on for the idea, of which I could not divest my mind, that I was living among savages, and for the whispers of a lingering hope, that I should one day be released from it — or if I could have forgotten that I had ever been otherwise tha.i as I then was — I could have enjoyed as much happiness in this as in any other situation. One evening, on my return from hunting, I found the fire put out, and the opening in the top of the lodge covered over with skins; by this means excluding, as much as possible, external light. I further observed that the ashes were removed from the fire-place, and that dry sand was spread where they had been. Soon after, a fire was made withoutside the cabm, in the open air, and a kettle hung over it to boil. I now supposed that a feast was in preparation. I supposed so only, for it would have been indecorous to inqiiire into the meaning of what I saw. No person, among the Indians themselves, would use this freedom. Good breeding requires that the spectator should patiently wait the result As soon as the darkness of night had arrived, the family, including myself, were invited into the lodge. I was now requested not to speak, as a feast was about to be g^ven to the dead, whose spirits delight in unii^terrupted silence. As we entered, each was presented with his wooden dish and spoon, after receiving which we seated ourselves. The door was next shut, and we remained in perfect darkness. The master of the fomily was master of the feast Still in the dark, he asked every one, by turn, for his dish, and put into each two boiled ears of maize. The whole being served, he began to speak. In his discourse, which lasted half an hour, he called upon the manes of his deceased relations and friends, bestoching them to be present, to assist him in the chase, and to partake of the food which he had prepared 444 ALBXAWDIR HliniT'S OAPTIVITT. for them. ''iVhcn lie l\!*tl ended, wo proceeded to (!ut our maize, which wc did no., ht it' boiled, and it took mo, an hour to conaumu my ■liiire. I \ss were carefully buried, in u hdlo made in the ground for that purpose, within the lodge. This done, th(! whole family began u dance, Wawatara singing, and beating a drum. The dance continued the greater part of the night, to the great pleasure of the lodge. The night of the feast was that of the lirst day of November. On the twentieth of December, wc took an account of the produce of our hunt, and found that we had a hundred b«'aver skins, as many raccotms, and a large quantity of dried venison; all which was secured from the wolves, by beuig placed upon a scaffold. A hunting excursion, into the interior of the country, was resolved on; and early ne.vt morning the bundles were made up by the women for each person to carry. I remarked that the bundle given to mc was the lightest, and those carried by the women the largest and heaviest of the whole. On the first day of our march, wc advanced about twenty miles, and then encamped. Being somewhat fatigued, I could not hunt ; but Wa- watiim killed a stag, not far from our encampment The next morning we moved our lodge to the carcass. At this station we remained two days, employed in drying the meat The method was, to cut it into slices, of the thickness of a steak, and then hang it over the fire in the smoke. On the third day wc removed, amd marched till two o'clock in the afternoon. While the women were busy in erecting and preparing the lodges, I took my gun and strolled away, telling Wawatam that I intended to look out for some fresh meat for supper, lie answered that lie would do the same; and on this we both left the encampment, in diflPercnt directions. The sun being visible, I entertained no fear of losing my way ; but in following several tracks of animals, in momentary expectation of falling in with the game, T proceeded to a considerable distance, and it was not till near sunset that I thought of returning. The sky, too, had become overcast, and I was therefore left without the sun for ray guide. In this situation, I walked as fitst as I could, always supposing AUtXAlTDIR nNRT'B OAFTTVITT. 445 myacif to be approacliing our encampment, till at length it became lo diirk that I ran agninst the trcca I hccamo convinced that I was lost; and T was alarmed by the rt'llt^ction that I was in a country entirely strange to me, and in danger from strange Indians. With the flint of my gun I made a fire, and then laid mo down to sleep. In the night, it rained hard. I awoke cold and wet; and as soon as light appeared, I recommenced my journey, sometimes walking and sometimes running, unknowing where to go, bewildered, and like a madman. Toward evening, I reached the border of a largo lake, of which I could scarcely discern the opposite shore. I had never heard of a lake in this part of the country, and therefore felt myself removed further than ever from the object of my pursuit To tread back my steps appeared to be the most likely means of delivering myself; and I ac- cordingly determined to turn my face directly from the lake, and keep this direction as nearly as I could. A heavy snow began to descend, and night soon afterward came on. On this, I stopped and made a fire; and stripping a tree of its sheet of bark, loy down under it to shelter mo from the snow. All nigltt, at small distances, the wolves howled around, ond to me seemed to bo acquainted with my misfortune. Amid thoughts the most distracted, I was able at length to fall asleep ; but it was not long before I awoke, refreshed, and wondering at the terror to which I had yielded myself. That I could really have wanted the means of recovering my way, appeared to me almost incredible, and the recollection of it like a dream, or as a circumstance which must have proceeded from the loss of my senses. Had this not happened, I could never, as I now thought, have suflFered so long, without calling to mind the lessons which I had received from my Indian friend, for the very purpose of being useful to me in difficulties of this kind. These were, that, generally speaking, the tops of pine trees lean toward the rising of the sun ; that moss grows toward the roots of trees on the side which faces the north ; and that the limbs of trees are most numerous, and largest on that which faces the south. Determined to direct my feet by these marks, and persuaded that I should thus, sooner or later, reach lake Michigan, which I reckoned to be distant about sixty miles, I began my march at break of day. I had not taken, nor wished to take, any nourishment since I left the encamp- ment; I had with me my gun and ammunition, and was therefore under no anxiety in regard to food. The snow lay about half a foot in depth. 446 AUBXAKDKR HENRT'B OAPTIVITT. My eyes were now employed upon the trees. When their tops leaned different ways, I looked to the moss, or to the branches; and by connecting one with another, I found the means of traveling with some degree of confidence. At four o'clock in the afternoon, the sun, to my inexpressible joy, broke from the clouds, and I had now no further need of examining the trees. In going down the side of a lofty hill, I saw a herd of red deer approaching. Desirous of killing one of them for food, I hid myself in the bushes, and on a large one coming near, presented my piece, wliich missed fire, on account of the priming having been wetted. The animals walked along, without taking the least alarm; and, having reloaded my gun, I followed them, and presented a second time. But now a disaster of the heaviest kind had befallen me; for, on attempting to fire, I found that I had lost the cock. I had pre- viously lost the rcrew by which it was fastened to the lock; and to prevent this from being lost also, I had tied it in its place, with a leather string. The lock, to prevent its catching in the boughs, I had carried under my molton coat. Of all the sufferings which I had experienced, this seemed to me the most severe. I was in a strange country, and knew not how for I had to go. I had been three days without food; I was withou the means of proouiing myself either food or fire. Despair had almost orerpowered me; but I soon resigned myself into the hands of that Providence, whose arm had so often saved mo, and returned on my track, in search of Avhat I had lost. My search was in vain, and I resumed my course, wot, cold, and hungry, and almost without clothing. The sun was setting fast, when I descended a hill, at the bottom of which was a small lake, entirely frozen over. On drawing near, I saw a beaver IoJj^t in the middle, offering some faint prospect of food; but I found it already broken up. While I looked at it, it suddorjly occurred to me that I had seen it before; and turning my eyes round the place, I discovered a s , ill tree which I had myself cut down, in the autumn, when, in company with my friends, I had taken the beaver. I was no longer at a loss, but knew both the distance and the route to the encampment. The latter was only to follow the course of a small stream of water, which ran from the encampment to the lake on which 1 stood. An hour before, I had thought myself the most miserable of men; and now I leaped for joy, and called myself the happiest The whole of the night, and through all the succeeding day, I walked up the rivulet, and at sunset reached the encampment, where of ALSXANOSS HKNRT'8 CAFTIVITT. 447 and I was received with the warmest expressions of pleasure by the family, by whom I had been given up for lost, after a long and vain search for me in the woods. Some days elapsed, during which I rested myself, and recruited my strength ; after this, I resumed the chase, secure that, as the snow Had now fallen, I could always return by the way I went In the course of the month of January, I happened to observe that the trunk of a large pine tree was much torn by the claws of a bear, made both in going up and down. On further examination, I saw that there was a large opening in the upper part, near which the smaller branches were broken. From these marks, and from the additional circumstance that there were no tracks on the snow, there was reason to believe that a bear lay concealed in the tree. On returning to the lodge, I communicated my discovery; and it was agreed that all the family should go together in the morning, to assist in cutting down the tree, the girth of which was not loss than three fathoms. The women at first opposed the undertaking, because our axes, being only of a pound and a half weight, were not well adapted to so heavy a labor; but the hope of finding a large bear, and obtaining from its fat a great quantity of oil, sn article at the time much wanted, at length prevailed. Accordingly, in the morning, we surrounded the tree, both men and women, as many at a time as could conveniently work at it ; and here we toiled like beavers till the sun went down. This day's work carried us about half way through the trunk ; and the next morning we renewed the attack, continuing it until about two o'clock in the after- noon, when the tree fell to the ground. For a few minutes, every thing remiuned quiet, and I feared that all our expectations were disappointed ; but as I advanced to the opening, there came out, to the great satisfaction of all our party, a bear of extraordinary size, which, before she had proceeded many yards, I shot. The bear being dead, all my assistants approftched, and all, but more particularly my old mother, (as I was wont to call her,) took her head in her hands, stroking and kissing it several times ; begging a thousand pardons for taking away her life ; calling her their relation and grand- mother; and requesting her not to lay the fault upon thetn, since it was truly an Englishman that had put her to death. This ceremony was not of long duration ; and if it was I that killed their grandmother, they were not themselves behindhand in what remained to be performed. The skin being taken oiF, we found the fat in several places six inches deep. This being divided into two parts, loaded two 448 ALBZAKDBR BENRT'S OAPTiyiTT. persons ; and the flesh parts were as much as four persons could carry ; In all, the carcass must have exceeded five hundred weight As soon as we reached the lodge, the bear's head was adorned with all the trinkets in the possession of the family, such as silver arm bands and wrist bands, and belts of wampum, and then laid upon a scaflfold, set up for its reception, within the lodge. Near the nose was placed a large quantity of tobacco. The next morning no sooner appeared than preparations were made for a feast to the manes. The lodge was cleaned and swept; and the head of tlie bear lifted up, and a new stroud blanket, which had never been used bffi/f<', ftproad under it The pipes were now lit; and Wawa- tam blew tobacco smoke into the nostrils of the bear, telling me to do the same, and thus appoase the anger of the bear, on account of my having killer', her, I endeavored to persuade my benefactor and friendly adviser that sh' no longer liad any lit^, and assured him that I was under no apprehension from Iht displeasure ; but the first proposition obtained no credit and the seconc' gave but little satisfaction. At length, the feast being r^ady, Wawatam commenced a speech, resembling in many things his address to th*^ ^aanes of Jiisrelations and departed companions ; but having this peculiarity, that be here deplored the necessity under which men labored thus to ^atroy their friends. He represented, however, that the misfortune vvas unavoidable, since without doing so they could by no means subsist Tlw speech ended, we all ate heartily of the bear's flesh ; and even the h("nA itself, after remaining three days on the scaffold, was put into the kettle. It is only the female bear that makes her winter lodging in the app«r parts of trees, a practice by which the young are secured from the attacks of wolves and other animals. 8hc brings forth iu the winter season ; and remains in her lodge till the cubs have gained some strength. The male always lodges in the ground, under the roots of trees. He takes to this habitation {js soon as the snow falls, and remains there until it has disappeared. The Indians remark that the bear comes out in the spring witli the same fat which he carried in in the autumn, but after exercise of only a few days becomes lean. Excepting for a short part of the season, the male lives constantly alone. Tiie fat of our bear was melted down, and the oil filled six porcupine skins. A part of the meat was cut into strips and fire-dried, after which it was put into the vessels contJiining the oil, where it remained in perfect preservation until the middle of summer. I'cbruary, in the country and by the people where and among whom I was, Is called the Moon of Hard or Crusted Snow; for now the snow AUXANDEB HENBY'S QAFTIVITT. 4^9 can bear a man, or at least dogs, in pursuit of animals o; the- chase. At this season, the stag is very successfully hunted, his feet breaking through at every step, and the crust upon the snow cutting his legs with its sharp edges to the very bone. He is consequently, in this distress, an easy prey ; and it frequently happened that we killed twelve in the short space of two hours. By this means we were soon put into possession of four thousand weight of dried venison, which was to be carried on our backs, along with all the rest of our wealth, for seventy miles, the distance of our encampment from that part of the lake shore at which in the autumn we left our canoes. This journey it was our next business to perform. Our venison and furs and peltries were to be disposed of at Michili- mackinac, and it was now the season for carrying them to market The women, therefore, prepared our loads ; and the morning of departure being come, we set off at daybreak, and continued our march till two o'clock in the afternoon. Where we stopped, we erected a scaffold, on which we deposited the bundles we had brought, and returned to our encampment, which we reached in the evening. In the morning, we carried fresh loads, which being deposited with the rest, we returned a second time in the evenhig. This we repeated till all was forwarded one stage. Then, removing our lodge to the place of deposit, we carried our goods, with the same patient toil, a second stage ; and so on, till we were at no great distance from the shores of the lake. Arrived here, we turned our attention to sugar making, the manage- ment of which, as I have before related, belongs to the women, the men cutting wood for the fires, and hunting and fishing. In the midst of this, we were joined by several lodges of Indians, most of whom 'v.«re of the family to wliich I belonged, and had wintered near us. T-ie lands belonged to this family, and it had, therefore, the exclusive riuh., to l^unt on them. Thit is according to the custom of the people; for c icI; ^omliy has its own lanvU. I w s treated very civilly by all the lodges. Our society had been a short time enlarged by this arrival of our friends, yihen a; accident occurred which filled the whole village with anxletv iLd .-onow. A little cliild, belonging to one of our neighbors, f. 11 into a ketlle of boiling syrup. It was instantly snatched out, but with little hojte of its recovery. So Ion?, r jwe\cr, as it lived, a continual feast was observed ; and this was made- to the Great Spirit and Master of Life, that he might be pleased to ^^ave and heal the child. At this feast I was a constant guest; and o' en found difficulty in eating the large quantity of food which, on such occasions as these, is put upon each man's dish. The Indians accusu 'u themselves both to eat much and to fast much with facili^. 29 ■' 460 AUEZAKDBB HKNBT'S OAPTinTr. Several sacrifices were also offered; among which were dogs, killed and hung upon the tops of poles, with the addition of stroud blankets and other articles. These also were given to the Great St '* in humble hope that he would give efficacy to the medicines emplo The child died. To preserve the body from the wolves, it w; d upon a scaffold, where it remmned till we went to the lake, ^u the border of which was the burial ground of the family. On our arrival there, which happened in the beginning of April, I did not fail to attend the funeral. The grave was made of a large size, and the whole of the inside lined with birch bark. On the bark was laid the body of the child, accompanied with an axe, a pair of snow shoes, a small kettle, several pairs of common shoes, its own strings of beads, and because it was a girl, a carrying belt and a paddle. The kettle was filled with meat All this was again covered with bark ; and at about two feet nearer the surface, logs were laid across, and these again covered with bark, so that the earth might by no means fall upon the corpse. The last act before the burial performed by the mother, crying over the dead body of her child, was that of taking from it a lock of hair for a memorial While she did this I endeavored to console her, by offering the usual arguments : that the cliild was happy in being released from the miseries of this present life, and tliat she should forbear to grieve, becaiise it would be restored to her in another world, happy and everlasting. She answered that she knew it, and that by tht, lock of hair she should discover her daughter, for she would take it with her In this she alluded to the day when some pious hand would place in her own grave, along with the carrying belt and paddle, this httle relic, hallowed by maternal tears. I have frequently inquired into the idoiis and opinions of the Indians in regard to futurity, and always founds that '■cy were somewhat dif- ferent in different individuals. Some suppose their souls to remain in this world, although invisible to human eyes; and capable, themselves, of seeing and hearing their friends, and also of assisting them, in moments of distress and drnger. Others dismiss from the mortal scene the unembodied spirit, and send it to a distant world or country, in which it receives reward or punish- ment, according lo the life which it has led in its prior state. Those who have Uved virtuously, are transported into a place abounding with every luxury, with deer and all other animals of the woods and water, and where the earth produces, in their greatest perfection, all its sweetest fruits. While, on the other hand, those who have violated or neglected at ALEXANDER HENRt'S CAPTIVITY. 461 the duties of this life, are removed to a barren soil, where they wander up and down, among rocks and morasses, and are stung by gnats as large as pigeons. While we remained on the border of the lake, a watch was kept every night, in the apprehension of a speedy attack from the English, who were expected to avenge the massacre of Michilimackinac. The imme- diate grounds of this apprehension were the constant dreams, to tliis effect, of the more aged women. I endeavored to persuade them that notliing of the kind would take place ; but their fears Avere not to be subdued. Amid these alarms, there came a report concerning a real, though less formidable enemy discovered in our neighborhood. This was a panther, which one of our young men had seen, and which onvmal sometimes attacks and carries away the Indian children. Our camp was immedi- ately on the alert, and we set off into the Avoods, about twenty in num- ber. We. had not proceeded more than a mile before the dogs found the panther, and pursued him to a tree, on which he was shot He was of a large size. On the twenty-fifth of April, we embarked for Michilimackinac. At La Grande Traverse we met a large j irty of Indians, who appeared to labor, like ourselves, under considerable alarm ; and who dared proceed no further, lest they should be destroyed by the English. Frequent councils of the united bands were held ; and interrogations were contin- ually pui to myself as to whether or not I knew of any design to attack them. 1 found that they believed it possible for me to have a fore- knowledge of events, and to be informed by dreams of all tliing-s doing at a distance. Protestations of my ignorance were received with but little satisfaction, and incurred the suspicion of a design to conceal my knowledge. On this account, therefore, or because I saw them tormented with fears which had nothing but imagination to rest upon, I told them, at length, that I knew theiv was no enemy to insult them ; and that they might proceed to Michilimackinac without danger from the English. I further, and with more contidence, declared, that if ever my countrymen relumed to Michilimackinac I would recommend them to their favor, on account of the good treatment which I had received from them. Thus encouraged, they embarked at an early hour the next morning. In crossing the bay we experienced a st(;rm of thunder and lightning. Our port was the village of L'Arbre Croche, whi^.h we reached in safety, and where we staid till the following day. At this village we found several persons who had been lately at Michilinackinac, and from ■ •'■iii 452 ALEXANDER HENRY's CAPTIVITY. them we had the satisfaction of learning that all was quiet there. Tho remainder of our voyage was therefore performed with confidence. In the evening of the twenty-seventh we Itmded at the fort, which now contained only two French traders. The Indians who had arrived before us were very few in number ; and by all, who were of our party, I was used very kindly. I had the entire freedom both of the fort and camp. Wawatam and myself settled our stock, and paid our debts ; and this done, I found that my share of what was left consisted in a hundred beaver skins, sixty raccoon skins, and six otter, of the total value of about one hundred and sixty dollars. With these earnings of ray winter's toil I proposed to purchase clothes, of which I was much in need, having been six months without a shirt; but, on inquiring into the prices of goods, I found that all my means would not go far. I was able, however, to hv>Y two shirts, at ten pounds of beaver each; a pair of leggins, or pjintaloons, of scarlet cloth, which, Avith th(i ribbon to gaming them fash- ionably, cost nic fifteen pounds of beaver; a blanket, at twenty pounds of beaver; and some other articles, at proportionable ratea In this manner my wealth was soon reduced ; but not before I had laid in a good stock of ammunition and tobacco. To the use of the latter 1 had become much attached during the winter. It was my principal recreation after returning from the chase ; for my companions in the lodge were unaccus- tomed to pass the time in conversation. Among the Indians the topics of conversation are but few, and liuiited, for the most part, to the trans- actions of the day, the number of animals which they have killed, and of those which have escaped their pursuit, and other incidents of the chase. Indeed, the causes of taciturnity among the Indians may be easily under- stood, if we consider how many occasions of speech, which present them- selves to us, are utterly unknown to them; the records of history, the pursuits of science, the disquisitions of philosophy, the systems of politics, the business and the amusements of the day, and the transactions of the four corners of the world. Eight days had passed in tranquillity, when there arrived a band of Indians from the bay of Sagucaiiunn. Titey had assisti'd at thn siege of Dctidit, and came to muster as many recruits i'ur that ser\icc hh they could. For my own part, 1 was soon informed that, as I was the only Englisliman in the place, they proposed to kill ni(>, in order tt» glv»i lljulj friends a mess of English broth to raise their courage. This intelligence was not of the most agreeable kind ; and ill conse- quence of receiving it, I requested my friend to carry me to the Sault do Saint-Marie, at which place 1 knew the Indians to b(? peaceably inclined, and that M. Cadotte enjoyed a powerful influence over their conduct. AUEXANDER HBNRT's OAFTIYITT. They considered M. Cadotte as their chief; and he was not only my friend, but a friend to the English. It was by him that the Chippewaya of Lake Superior were prevented from joining Pontiac. Wawatam was not slow to exert himself for my preservation, but, leav- ing Michilimackinac in the night, transported himself and all his lodge to Point Saint-Ignace, on the opposite side of the strait Here we remained till daylight, and then went into the Bay of Boutchitaouy, in which we spent three days in fishing and hunting, and where we found plenty of wild fowl. Leaving the bay, we made for the Isle aux Outardes, where we were obliged to put in, on account of the wind coming ahead. We proposed sailing for the Sault the next morning. But when the morning came, Wawatam's wife complained that she was sick, adding that she had had bud dreams, and knew that if we went to the Sault Ave should all be destroyed. To have argued, at this time, against the infjdlibility of dreams, would have been extremely unadvisable, since I should have appeared to be guilty, not only of an odious want of feith, but also of a still more odious want of sensibility to the possible calamities of a family which had done so much for the alleviation of mine. I was silent, but the disappointment seemed to seal my fate. No pros- pect opened to console me. The return to Michilimackinac could only insure my destruction ; and to remain at the island was to brave almost equal danger, since it lay in the direct route between the fort and the Missisaki, along which the Indians from Detroit were hourly expected to pass, on the business of their mission. I doubted not but, taking advan- tage of the solitary situation of the family, they would carry into execution their design of killing me. Unable, therefore, to take any part in the direction of our course, but a prey, at the same time, to the most anxious thoughts as to my own con- dition, I ptissed all the day on the highest part to which I could climb, of a tall tree, from whence the lake, on both sides of the island, lay open to my view. Here I might hope to l(;arn, at the earliest possible, the approach of canoes, and by this means be warned in time to conceal myself On the second morning I returned, as soon as it was light, to my watch t^iwiM', on which I had not been long before 1 discovered a sail cominu- from Michilimackinac. The sail was a white one, and much larger than tliose usually em- ployed by the northern Indians. I therefore indulged a hope that it might be a Can.idian canoe, on the voyage to Montreal ; and that I might be able to prevail upon the crew to take me with them, and thus release mf iVoin all my troubles. If M m m r. fJ 454 ALEXANDER IIBNRT'S OAPTIVITT. My hopes continued to gain ground ; for I soon persuaded myself that the manner in which the paddles were used on board the canoe was Canadian, and not Indian. My spirits were elated ; but disappointment bad become so usual with me, that I could not suffer myself to look to the event with any strength of confidence. Enough, however, appeared at length to demonstrate itself to induce mc to descend the tree, and repair to the lodge, with my tidings and schemes of liberty. The family congratulated mo on the approach of so fair an opportunity of escape ; and my father and brother, (for he was altoiniitely each of these) lit his pipe, and presented it to me, saying, " My son, this may be the last time that ever you and I shall smoke out of the same pipe ! I am sorry to part with you. You know the affection which I have always borne you, and the dangers to which I have exposed myself smd family, to preserve you from your enemies ; and I am happy to find that my efforts promise not to have been in vain." At this time u boy came into the lodge, informing us that the canoe had come from Michilimackinac, and was bound to the Sault de Saint-Marie. It was manned by three Canadians, and was carrying home Madame Cadotte, the wife of M. Cadotte, already mentioned. My hopes of going to Montreal being now dissipated, I resolved on accompanying Madame Cadotte, with her permission, to the Sault On communicating my wishes to Madame Cadotte, she cheerfully acceded to them. Madame Cadotte, as I have already mentioned, was an Indian woman of the Chippeway nation, and she was very generally re- spected. My departure fixed upon, I returned to the lodge, where I packed up my wardrobe, consisting of my two shirts, pair of leygins, and blanket Besides these, I took a gun and ammunition, presenting what remained further, to my host I also returned the silver arm bands with which the family had decorated me the year before. We now exchanged farewells with an emotion entirely reciprocal. I did not quit the lodge without the most grateful sense of the many acts of goodness which I had experienced in it nor without the sincerest respect for the virtues which I had witnessed among its members. All the family accompanied me to the beach ; and the canoe had no sooner put off than Wawatam commenced an address to the Kichi Manito, be- seeching him to take care of me, his brother, till we should next meet. This, he had told me, would not be long, as he intended to return to Michilimackinac for a short time only, and would then follow me to the Sault. We had proceeded to too great a distance to allow of our hearing his voice, before Wawatam had ceased to offer up his prayers. ALBZjINDSB HKNRT'S OAPTIVITT. 455 Being now no longer in the society of the Indians, I put aside the dress, putting on that of a Canadian : a molton, or blanket coat, over my shirt, and a handkerchief about my head, hats being very little worn in this country. At daybreak, on the second morning of our voyjige, we embarked, and presently perceived several canoes behind us. As they approached, we ascertained them to be the fleet, bound for the Missisaki, of which I had been so long in dread. It amounted to twenty sail. On coming up with us, and surrounding our canoe, and amid general inquiries concerning the news, an Indian challenged me for an English- man, and his companions supported him by declaring that I looked very like one ; but I affected not to understand any of the questions which they asked me, and Madame Cadottc assured them that I was a Ca- nadian, whom she had brought on his first voyage from M'>:\trcal. The following day saw us safely landed at the Sault, wL^ lo. I experi- enced a generous welcome from M. Cadotte. There were thi ty ^vorriors at this place, restrained from joining in the war only by M. Cadotte 'a influence. Here, for five days, I was once more in possession of tranquillity ; but, on the sixth, a young Indian came into M. Cadotte's, saying that a canoe full of warriors had just arrived from Michilimackinac ; that they had inquired for me ; and that he believed their intentions to be bad. Nearly at the same time, a message came from the good chief of the village, desiring me to conceal myself until he should discover the views and temper of the strangers. A garret was the second timq my place of refuge ; and it was not long before the Indians came to M. Cadotte's. My friend immediately in- formed Mutchikiwish, their chief, who was related to his wife, of the design imputed to them, of mischief against myself. Mutchikiwish frankly acknowledged that they had had such a design ; but added that, if dis- pleasing to M. Cadotte, it should be abandoned. He then further stated, that their errand was to raise a party of warriors to return with them to Detroit ; and that it had been their intention to take me with them. In regard to the principal of the two objects thus disclosed, M. Cadotte proceeded to assemble all the chiefs and warriors of the village ; and these, after deliberating for some time among themselves, sent for the strangers, to whom both M. Cadotte and the chief of the village addressed a speech. In these speeches, after recurring to the designs confessed to have been entertained against myself, who was now declared to be under the protection of all the chiefs, by whom any insult I might sustain would be avenged, the ambassadors were peremptorily told that they might go :>i\ m m ALIXAKDIR nENRT'S ..viTIVmr. back as they came, none of the young men of this villago being foolish enough to join them. A moment after, a report was brought that a canoo had just arrived from Niagara. As this was a place from which every one was anxious to hear news, a message was sent to these fresh strangers, requesting thum to come to '^e council. The str^riflvTU came accordingly, and being seated, a long silence en- sued. At length, one < <( them, taking up a belt of wampum, addressed himself thus to the assembly : " My friends and brothers, I am come, with this belt, from our great father, Sir William Johnson. lie desired me to come to you as his ambassador, and tell you that he is making a great feast at Fort Niagara ; that Ids kettles arc all ready and his fires lit He invites you to partake of the feast, in common with your friends, the Six Nations, who have all made peace with the English. He advises you to seize this opportunity of doing the same, as you cannot otherwise fml of being destroyed ; for the English are on their march with a great army, which will be joined by different nations of Indians. In a word, before the fall of the leaf, they will be at Michilimackinac, and the Six Nations with them." The tenor of this speech greatly alarmed tlif^ Indians of the Sault who, after a very short consultation, agreed to send twenty deputies tc Sir WiUiam Johnson, at Niagara This was a project highly interesting to me, since it offered me the means of leaving the country. I intimated this to the chief of the village, and received his promise that I should accompany the deputation. Very little time was proposed to be lost, in setting forward on the voyage ; but the occasion was of too much magnitude not to call for more than human knowledge and discretion ; and preparations were accordingly made for solemnly invoking and consulting the Great Turtle. For invoking and consulting the Great Turtle, the first thing to be done was the building of a large house or wigwam, within w hich was placed a species of tent, for the use of the priest and reception of the spirit The tent was formed of moose sKins, hung over a framework of wood. Five polos, or rather pillars, of five different species of timber, about ten feet in height, and eight inches in diameter, were set in a circle of about four feet in diameter. The holes made to receive them were about two feet deep ; and the pillars being set, the holes were filled up again, with the earth which had been dug out At top the pillars were bound together by a circular hoop, or girder. Over the whole of this edifice were spread the moose skins, covering it at top and around the sides, and made fast Avith thongs of the same ; except that on AUtZAirnKR HKinir's oAPrivnT. MV one mde a psrt was left unfastened, to admit of the entrance of the priest The ceremonies did not commence but with the approach of night To give light within the house, several fires were kindbtd round tl«» tent Nearly the whole village assembled in the house, and myself among the rest. It was not long before the priest appeared, almost in a state of nakedness. As he approached the tent the skins were lifted up, as much as was nocessary to allow of his creeping under them on his hands and knees. His head was scarcely withinside, when the editice, massy as it has been described, began to shake; and the skins were no sooner let fall, than the sounds of numerou? noes were heard beneath them, some yelling, some barking as dogs, sin'j howling like wolves, and in tliis horrible concert were mingled scnm.ns and sobs, as of despair, anguish, and the sharpest pain. Articulate sprn-ch was also uttered, as •*■ from human lips, but in a tongue unknown to any of the audience. After some time, these confused and frightful noises were succeeded by a perfect silence; and now a voice, not heard before, seemed to manifest the arrival of a new character in the tent This was a low and feeble voice, resembling the cry of a young puppy. The sound was no sooner distinguished, than all the Indians clapped their hands for joy, exclaiming, that this was the Cliief Spirit, the Turtle, the spirit that never li«id ! Other voices, which they had discriminated from time to time, tlic} bad previously hissed, as recognizing them to belong to evil and lying spirits, Avhich deceive mankind. New sounds came from the tent During the space of half an hour, a succession of songs were heard, in which a diversity of voices met the ear. li'rom his first entrance, till these songs were finished, we heard nothing in the proper voice of the priest ; but now, he addressed the multitude, declaring the presence of the Great Turtle, and the spirit's readiness to answer such questions as should be proposed. The questions were to come from the chief of the village, who was silent, however, till after he had put a large quantity of tobacco into the tent, introducing it at the aperture. This was a sacrifice offered to the spirit ; for spirits are supposed by the Indians to be as fond of tobacco as themselves. The tobacco accepted, he desired the priest to inquire whether or not the English were preparing to make war upon the Indians ; and whether or not there were at fort Niagara a large number of English troops. These questions having been put by the priest, the tent instantly shook ; and for some seconds after it continued to rock so violently that I expected to see it leveled with the ground All this was a prelude, ' BR HXHRT'S OAFnVITT. 4ft] this course, a distance of thirty miles, which would be lost in keepbg the shore. At nine o'clock, A. M., we had a light breeze astern, to enjoy the benefit of which we hoisted sail. Soon after the wind increased, and the Indians, be^nning to be alarmed, frequently called on the rattle- snake to come to then: assistance. By degrees the waves grew high; and at eleven o'clock it blew a hurricane, and we expected every moment to be swallowed up. From prayers the Indians now proceeded to sacri- fices, both alike offered to the god rattlesnake, or manito kinibk. One of the chiefs took a dog, and after tying its fore legs together, threw it overboard, at the same time calling on the snake to preserve us from being drowned, and desiring him to satisfy his hunger with the carcass of the dog. The snake was unpropitious, and the wind increased. Another chief sacrificed another dog, with the addition of some tobacco. In the prayer which accompanied these gifts, he besought the snake, as before, not to avenge upon the Indians the insult which he had received from myself, in the conception of a design to put him to death. He assured the snake that I was absolutely an Englishman, and of kin neither to him nor to them. At the conclusion of this speech, an Indian who sat near me observed, tha* if we were drowned it would be for my fault alone, and that I ought myself to be sacrificed, to appease the angry manito; nor was I without apprehensions that in case of extremity this would be my fate ; but happily for me, the storm at length abated, and we reached the island safely. The next day was calm, and we arrived at the entrance of the navi- gation which leads to lake Avx Claies. (This lake is now called lake Simcoe.) We presently passed two short carrying-places, at each of which were several lodges of Indians, (these Indians are Chippeways, of the particular description called Missisakies; and from their residence at Matchedash, or Matchitashk, also called Matchedash or Matchitashk Indians,) containing only women and children, the men being gone to the council at Niagara From this, as from a former instance, my companions derived new courage. On the 18th of June, we crossed lake Aux Claies, which appeared to be upwards of twenty miles in length. At its further end we came to the carrying-place of Toronto. Here the Indians obliged me to carry a burden of more than a hundred pounds weight The day was very hot, and the woods and marshes abounded with musquitoes; but the Indians walked at a quick pace, and I could by no means see myself left behind. The whole country was a thick forest, through which our only road was a foot-path, or such as, in America, is exclusively termed an Indian path. 462 Auiriin»R niniT's oApmnrr. Next morning at ten o'clock, we reached the shore of lake Ontario Here we were employed two dajs in making canoes out of the bark of the elm tree, in which we were to transport ourselves to Niagara. For this purpose the Indians first cut down a tree ; then stripped off the bark in one entire sheet of about eighteen feet in length, the incision being lengthwise. The canoe was now complete as to its top, bottom, and sides. Its endfe were next closed by sewing the bark together; and a few ribs and bars being introduced, the architecture was finished. In this manner we made two canoes, of which one carried eight men and the other nine. On the 21st, we embarked at Toronto, and encamped in the even- nig four miles short of fort Niagara, which the Indians would not approach till morning. ■. At duwn, the Indians were awake, and presently assembled in council, still doubtful as to the fate they were to encoimter. I assured them of the most friendly welcome; and at length, after painting themselves with the most lively colors, in token of their own peaceable views, and after sin^ng the song which is in use among them on going into danger, they embarked, and made for point Missisaki, which is on the north side of the mouth of tlie river or strait of Niagara, as the fort is on the sojith* A few minutes after I crossed over to the fort: and here I was received by Sir William Johnson, in a manner for which I have ever been gyrate- fully attached to his person and memory. Thus was completed my escape from the sufferings and dangers which the capture of fort Michilimackiiiac brought upon me; but the property which I had carried into the upper country was left behind. The reader will therefore be far from attributing to me any idle or unaccountable motive, when he finds me returning to the scene of my misfortunes. ■•«3» NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY FRANCES NOBLE. Jambs Whidden, the maternal grandfather of Mrs. Shute, was a cap- tain in the army at the taking of Gape Breton in 1745. He owned a tract of land on Swan Island, in the river Kennebec, where he Uved with his family. One of his daughters married Lazarus Noble, of Portsmouth, who lived on the island with her father. The Indians had been accus- tomed to visit Capi Whidden for the purposes of trade. There was a garrison on the island to secure the innbitants from the attacks of the enemy in time of war. One morning, about the year 1755, a little after daybreak, two boys went out of the garrison and left the gate open. The Indians were on the watch, and, availing themselves of the opportunity, about ninety entered the garrison. The inhabitants immediately discovered that the enemy was upon them ; but there was no escape. Captain Wliidden and his wife retreated to the cellar, and concealed themselves. Noble and his hired man met the Indians at the head of the stairs, and fired upon them, wounding one of them in the arm. The Indians did not return the fire, but took Noble, his wife and seven children, with Timothy Whidden and Mary Holmes, prisoners. The hired man and two boys escaped. The captives were carried to the water's side and bound; excepting such as could not run away. The Indians then retomed to the garrison, burnt the bam and plundered the house, cut open the feather beds, strewed the feathers in the field, and carried ofif all the silver and gold they could find, and as much of the provisions as they chose. It was supposed they omitted to burn the house from the suspi- cion that the captain and his wife, from whom they had, in times of peace, received many favors, were concealed in it Captain Whidden, after the destruction of his property on the island returned to Greenland, in this state, which is supposed to hare been his native place, and there died. 464 CAPTIVITY OF FRANCES MOBUB. The name Indians also took, in a wood on the island, an old man by the )f Pomeroy, who was employed in mak making shingles. Having collected their captives and plunder, they immediately left the island, and conmienced their return to Canada to dispose of their prey. Pome- roy was old and feeble, and unable to endure the fatigue of the march, without more assistance than the savages thought fit to render him, and they killed him on the journey. They were more attentive to the chil- dren, as for them they undoubtedly expected a higher price or a greater ransom. Abigail, one of the children, died among the Indians. The other captives arrived safe in Canada, and were variously disposed of. Mr. Noble was sold to a baker in Quebec, and his wife to a lady of the same place as a chambermaid. They were allowed to visit each other and to sleep together. Four of the children were also sold in Quebec, as were Timothy Whidden and Mary Holmes. The captives m that city were exchanged within a year, and returned to their homea Mr. Whid- den and Miss Holmes were afterward united in marriage. Fanny Noble, the principal subject of this memdr, at the time of her captivity, was about thirteen months old. She was carried by a party of Indians to Montreal In their attempts to dispose of her, they took her one day to the house of Monsieur Louis St Auge Charlec, an eminent merchant of that place, who was at that time on a journey to Quebec. His lady was called into the kitchen by one of her maids to see a poor infant crawling on the tile floor in dirt and rags, picking apple peelings out of the cracks. She came in, and on kindly noticing the child,. Fanny immediately caught hold of the lady's gown, wrapped it over her head, and burst into tears. The lady could not easily resist this appeal to her compassion. She took up the child, who clung about her neck and repeatedly embraced her. The Indians offered to sell her their little captive, but she declined buying, not choosing probably in the absence of her husband to venture on such a purchase. The Indians left the house, and slept that night on the pavements before the door. Fanny, who had again heard the voice of kindness, to which she had not been accustomed from her savage masters, could not be quiet, but disturbed the slumbers and touched the heart of the French lady by her incessant cries. This lady had then lately lost a child by death, and was perhaps more quick to feel for the sufferings of children, and more disposed to love them, than she would otherwise have been. Early the next morning the Indians were called into the house ; Fanny was purchased, put into a tub of water, and having been thoroughly washed, was dressed in the clothes of the deceased child, and put to bed. She awoke smiling, and seemed desirous of repaying her mistress' kindness OAPTIVITT or FRAKOIS KOBUB. 465 hj her infantile pratdo and fond caresses. Fanny could never learn for what price she was bought of the Indians, as her French mother de- olmed answering her questions upon that subject, telling her to be a good girl, and be thankful that she was not still in their power. M. and Madam St Augc took a lively interest in their little captive, and treated her with much tenderness and affection. She felt for them a filial attachment When her parents were exchanged, her mother, on her return home, called upon Fanny, and took the child in her arms, but no instinct taught her to rejoice in the maternal embrace, and she fled for protection to her French mamma. Mrs. Noble received many presents from the French lady, and had the satisfaction to see thdt her daughter was left in affectionate hands. Fanny was taught to call and consider M. and Madam St Auge as her parents. They had her baptized by the name of Eleanor, and educated her in the Roman Catholic religion. She learned her Pater Kosters and Ave Marias, went to mass, crossed herself with holy water, and told her beads with great devotion. When four or five years old, she was enticed away from her French parents by Wheelwright, who had been employed by the government of Massachusetts to seek for captives in Canada. He carried her to the Three Rivers, where he had several other captives, and left her, as he pretended, with a relation of her French father for a few ''.ays, when she expected to return to Montreal. But she had not been to the Three Rivers more than twenty-four hours, when the old squdw who had sold her to Madam St Auge came along in a sleigh, accompanied by a young sanop, seized upon Fanny, and carried her to St Francois, where they kept her about a fortnight She had now attdned an age when she would be sensible of her misfortunes, and bitterly lamented her sep- aration from her French parents. The Indians endeavored to pacify and please her by drawing on her coat or frock the figures of }i:"ir, wolves, bears, fishes, &c.; and once, probably to make her look as harl- somely as themselves, they painted her cheeks in the Indian fashion, which very much distressed her, and the old squaw made them wipe off the paint At one time she got away from the savages, and sought refuge in the best looking house in the village, which belonged to a French priest, who kissed her, asked her many questions, and treated her kindly, but gave her up to the claim of her Indian masters. While at St Francois, her brother, Joseph Noble, who had not been sold to the French, but still lived with the Indians, came to see her, but she had a great aversion to him. He was in his Indian dress, and she would not believe him to be a relation, or speak to him if she could avoid it She 30 406 OAPmriTT or niANG^s vcblb. was at last turned back by the Indians to Montreal, and to her great satisfaction was delivered to her French father, who rewarded the In- dians for returning her. It was doubtless the expectation of much reward which induced the old squaw to seize her at the Three Rivers, as the Indians not unfrcquently stole back captives, in order to extort presents for their return from the French gentlemen to whom the same captives had before been sold. Before this time she had been hastily carried from Montreal, hurried over mountains and across waters, and concealed among flags, while those who accompanied her were evidently pursued, and in great apprehension of being overtaken; but the occasion of this flight or its incidents she was too young to understand or distinctly to remember, and she was unable afterward to satisfy herself whether her French father conveyed her away to keep her out of the reach of her natural friends, or whether she was taken by those friends, and afterward retaken, as at the Three Rivers, and returned to Montreal The French parents cautiously avoided informing her upon this subject, or upon any other which should remind her of her captivity, her country, her parents, or her friends, lest she shoiild become discontented with her situation, and desirous of leaving those who ha ^ adopted her. They kept her secreted from her natural friends, who were in search of her, and evaded every question which might lead to her discovery. One day, when M. St Auge and most of his family were at mass, she was sent with another captive to the third story of the house, and the domestics were required strictly to watch them, as it was known that some of her relations were then in the place endeavoring to find her. Of this cu:- cumstance she was then ignorant, but she was displeased with her confinement, and with her little companion found means to escape from their room and went below. Wliile raising a cup of water to her mouih, she saw a man looking at her through the window, and stretching out his arm toward her, at the same time speaking a language which she could not understand. She was very much alarmed, threw down her water, and ran with all possible speed to her room. Little did she suppose that it was her own father, from whom she was flying in such fear and horror. He had returned to Canada to seek those of his chil- dren who remmned there. He could hear nothing of his Fanny ; but watching the house, he perceived her, as was just stated, and joyfully stretching his arms toward her, exclaimed, " There 's my daughter ! ! that's my daughtr.r!" But she retreated, and he could not gmn ad- mittance, for the ^aouse was guarded and no stranger permitted to enter. How long he continued hovering about her is unknown, but he left Canada without embracing her or seeing her agaia tfAPTiniT Of fii>iros8 iroiru. m she her she such left Her French parents put her to a boarding school attached to a nun- nery in Montreal, where she remained several years, and was taught all branches of needle-work, with geography, music, painting, Ac. In the same school were two Misses Johnsons, who were captured at Charlestown, in 1764, and two Misses Phipps, the daughters of Mrs. Howe, who was taken at Hinsdale, in 1765. Fanny was in school when Mrs. Howe came for her daughters, and long remembered the grief and lamentatiorut of the young captives when obliged to leave their school and mates to return to a strange, though their native country, and to relatives whom they had long forgotten. While at school at Montreal, her brother Joseph agwn visited her. He still belonged to the St Francois tribe of Indians, and was dressed re- markably fine, having forty or fifty broaches in his shirt, clasps on his arm, and a great variety of knots and bells about his clothing. He brought his little sister Ellen, as she was then called, and who was then not far from seven years old, a young fawn, a basket of cranberries and a lump of sap sugar. The little girl was much pleased with the fawn, and had no great aversion to cranberries and sugar, but she was much frightened by the appearance of Joseph, and vrovid receive nothing from his hands, till, at the suggestion of her friends, he had washed the paint from his face and made some alteration in his dress, when she ventured to accept his offerings, and immediately ran from his presence. The next day, Joseph returned with the Indians to St Francois, but some time afterward M. St Auge purchased him of the savages, and dressed him b the French style ; but he never appeared so bold and majestic, so spirited and vivacious, as when arrayed in liis Indian habit and associating with his Indian friends. He however became much attached to St Auge, who put him to school ; and when his sister parted with him upon leaving Canada, he gave her a strict charge not to let it be known where ho was, lest he too should be obliged to leave his friends and return to the place of hb birtL When between eleven and twelve years of age, Fanny was sent to the school of Ursuline nuns in Quebec, to complete her education. Here the discipline was much more strict and solemn than in the school at Montreal. In both places the teachers were called half nuns, who, not being professed, were allowed to go in and out at pleasure ; but at Quebec the pupils were in a great measure secluded from the world* being permitted to walk only in a small garden by day, and confined by bolls and bars in their cells at night This restraint was irksome to Fanny. She grew discontented; and at the close of the year was permitted to return to her French parents at Montreal, and agun enter the school in that city. 468 OAPTIVITT OW FRAirOBa MOBUk While Fanny was in the nunnery, being then in her fourteenlh year, she was one day equally surprised and alarmed by the entrance of a stranger, who demanded her of the nuns as a redeemed captive. Her father had employed this man, Arnold, to seek out his daughter and obtain her from the French, who had hitherto succeeded in detaining her. Arnold was well calculated for this employment He was secret, subtle, resolute and persevering. He had been some time in the city without exciting a suspicion of his business. He htul ascertained where the captive was to be found — he had procured the necessary powers to secure her, and in his approach to the nunnery was accompanied by a sergeant and a file of men. The nuns were unwilling to deliver up their pupil, and required to know by what right he demanded her. Arnold convinced them that his authority was derived from the governor, and they durst not disobey. They, however, prolonged the time as much as possible, and sent word to M. St Auge, hoping that he would be able in some way or other to detain his adopted daughter. Arnold, however, was not to be delayed or trifled with. He sternly demanded the captive by the name of Noble in the governor's name, and the nuns were awed into submission. Fanny, weeping and trembling, was delivered up by those who wept and trembled too. She accompanied Arnold to the gate of the nunnery, but the idea of leaving forever those whom she loved and going with a company of armed men, she knew not whither, was too overwhelming, and she sank upon the ground. Her cries and lamen- tations drew the people around her, and she exclaimed bitterly against the cruelty of forcing her away, declaring that she could not and would not go any further as a prisoner with those frightful soldiers. At this time an English officer appeared in the crowd; he reasoned with her, sootlicd her, and persuaded her to walk with him, assuring her the guard should be dismissed and no injury befall her. As they passed by the door of M. St Auge, on their way to the inn, her grief and exclamations were renewed, and it was with great difficulty that she could be per- Huadod to proceed. But the guard had merely fallen back, and were near enough to prevent a rescue, had an attempt been made. Captain M'Clure, the English officer, promised her that she should be permitted to visit her French parents the next day. She found them in tears, but they eould not detain her. M. St Auge gave her a handful of money, and embraced her, blessed her, and rushed out of the room. His lady supplied her with clothes, and their parting was most affectionate and affecting. She lived to a considerably advanced age, but she could never speak of this scene without visible and deep emotion. She was carried down the river to Quebec, where she tarried a few oinnriTT or nkvonn nobli. 46t days, and tben stulcd with Captain Wilson for Boston. Sho arrived at that port in July, one month before hIio was fourteen yours of age. Sho was joyfully received by her friends, but her father did not long survive her return. After his death sho resided in the family of Captain Wilson, at Boston, until she had acquired the English language, of wlxich before she was almost entirely ignorant. She then went to Newbury, and lived in the family of a relative of her father, where she found a homo, and that peace to which she had long been a stranger. Her education had qualified her for the instruction of youth, and she partially devoted herself to that employment She was engaged in a school at Hampton, where sho formed an acquaintance with Mr. Jonathan Tilton, a gentleman of good property in Kensington, whom she married about the year 1776. He died in 1798. In 1801, she married Mr. John Shu to, of New Market, and lived in the village of Newfields, in that town, till her death, in September, 1819. She was much respected and esteemed in life, and her death was, as her life had been, that of a Christian. a few NARRATIVE OP THE CAPTIVITY QUINTIN STOCKWELL. I» the year 1677, September the 19th, between sunset and dark, the Indians came upon us.* T and another man, being together, we ran away at the outcry the Indians made, shouting and shooting at some others of the English that were hard by. We took a swamp that was at hand for our rufuge; the enemy espying us so near them, ran after us, and shot many guns :it us ; throe guns were discharged upon me, the enemy being within three rods of me, besides many others before that Being in this swamp, which was miry, I slumped in and fell down, whereupon one of the enemy stepped to me, with his hatchet Ufted v.p to knock me on the head, supposing that I had been wounded and so unfit for any other travel. I, as it happened, had a pistol by me, which, though uncharged, I presented to the Indian, who presently stepped back, and told me if I would yield I should have no hurt; he said, which was not true, that they had destroyed all Hatfield, and that the woods were lull of Indians, whereupon I yielded myself, and falling into their hands, was by three of them led away unto the place whence first I began to make my flight Here two other Indians came running to us, and the one 'ii'ting up the butt end of his gun, to knock me on the head, the other with his hand put by the blow, and sjiid I was his friend. I was now by my own house, which the Indians burnt the last year, and I was about to build up again ; and there I had some hopes to escape from them. There was a horse just by, which they bid me take. I did so, but made no attempt to escape thereby, because the enemy was near, and the beast was slow and dull. Then was I in hopes they would send me to take my own horses, which they did; but they were so frightened that I could not come near to them, and so fell still into the enemy's hands. They now took and bound me and led me away, and soon was I brought into the company •At Deerficld, Mass. QUINTIK STOOKWEIX'S CAPTIVITT. ill of other captives, who were that day brought away from Hatfield, who were about a mile oflf ; and here methought was matter of joy and sorrow both : joy to see company, and sorrow for our conditioa Then were we pinioned and led away in the night over the mountains, in dark and hideous ways, about four miles further, before we took up our place for rest, which was in a dismal place of wood, on the east side of that mountain. We were kept bound all that night The Indians kept waking, and we had little mind to sleep in this night's travel The Indians dispersed, and as they went made strange noises, as of wolves and owls, and other wild beasts, to the end that they might not lose one another, and if followed they might not be discovered by the English. About the break of day we marched again, and got over that great river at Pecomptuck [Decrfield] river mouth, and there rested about two hours. Here the Indians marked out upon tho trees the number of their captives and slain, as their manner is. Now was I again in great danger, a quarrel having arose about me, whose captive I was ; for three took me. I thought I must be killed to end the controversy, so when they put it to me, whose I was, I said three Indians took me ; so they agreed to have all a share in me. I had now three masters, and he was my chief master who laid hands on me first; and thus was I fallen into the hands of tho worst of all the company, as Asphclon, the Indian captain, told me which captain was all along very kind to me, and a great comfort to the English. In this place they gave us some victuals, which they had brought from the English. This morning also they sent ten men forth to the town of Deerfield to bring away what they could find. Some provision, some corn out of the meadow, they brought to us on horses, which they had there taken. From hence we went up about the falls, where we crossed that river again ; and whilst I was going, I fell right down lame of my old wounds, which I had in the war, and whilst I was thinking I should therefore bo killed by the Indians, and what death I should die, my pain was suddenly gone, and I was much encouraged again. We had about eleven horses in thai company, which the Indians used to convey burdens, and to carry women. It was afternoon when we now crossed that river. We traveled up it till night, and then took up our lodging in a dismal place, and were staked down, and spread out on our backs ; and so we lay all night, yea, BO we lay many nights. They told me their law was that we should lie so nine nights, and by that time it was thought we should be out of our knowledge. The manner of staking down was thus : our arms and legs stretched out, were staked fast down, and a cord about our necks, so that we could stir noways. The first night of staking down, being much tired, 1 ■ i I I 1.' m a I 472 QtriMTiN stookwell's oAPTivrrr. I slept as comfortable as ever. The next day we went up the river, and crossed it, and at night lay in Squakheag [Northfield] meadows. Our provision was soon spent, and while we lay in those meadows the Indians went a hunting, and the English army came out after us. Then tho Indians moved again, dividing themselves and the captives into many companies, that the English might not follow their tracks. At night, having crossed the river, we met again at the place appointed. The next day we crossed it again on Squakheag side, and there we took up our quarters for a long time. I suppose this might be about thirty miles above Squakheag ; and here were the Indians quite out of all fear of the English, but in great fear of the Mohawks. Here they built a long wigwam, and had a great dance, as they call it, and concluded to burn three of us, and had got bark to do it with ; and, as I understood afterward, I was one that was to be burnt, sergeant Plimpton another, and Benjamin Waite's wife the third. Though I knew not which was to be burnt, yet I perceived some were designed thereunto; so much I understood of their language. That night I could not sleep for fear of next day's work. The Indians being weary with the dance, lay down to sleep, and slept soundly. The English were all loose ; then I went out and brought in wood, and mended the fire, and made a noise on purpose, but none awakened. I thought if any of the English would awake, we might kill them all sleeping. 1 removed out of the way all the guns and hatchets, but my heart failing me, I put all the things where they were again. The next day, when we were to be burnt, our master and some others spoke for us, and the evil was prevented in this place. Hereabouts we lay three weeks together. Here I had a shirt brought to me to make, and one Indian said it should be made this way, a second another way, a third his way. I told them I would make it that way my chief master said ; whereupon one Indian struck me on the face with his fist. I suddenly rose up in anger, ready to strike again ; upon this happened a great hubbub, and the Indians and English came about me. I was fain to humble myself to my master, so that matter was put up. Before I came to this place, my three masters were gone a hunting; I was left with another Indian, all the company being upon a march ; I was left with this Indian, who fell sick, so that I was fain to carry his gun and hatchet, and had opportunity, and had thought to have dispatched him and run away ; but did not, for that the English captives had promised the contrary to one another; because, if one should run away, that would provoke the Indians, and endanger the rest that could not run away. Whilst we were here, Benjamin Stebbins, going with some Indians to Wachuset Hills, made his escape from them, and when the news of bis QUINTIN STOCKWKLL's CAPTIVITY. 473 ind to Ibis escape came we were all presently called in and bound; one of the Indians, a captain among them, and always our great friend, met me coming in, and told me Stebbins was run away ; and the Indians spake of burning us; some, of only burning and biting off our fingers, by and by. He said there would be a court, and all would speak their minds, but he would speak last, and would say, that the Indian who let Steb- bins run away was only in fault, and so no hurt should be done us, and added, " fear not," so it proved accordingly. Whilst we lingered here- about, provision grew scarce; one bear's foot must serve five of us a whole day. We began to eat horse-flesh, and eat up seven in all ; three were left alive and not killed. After we had been here, some of the Indians had been down, and fiiUen upon Hadley, and were taken by the English, agreed with and let go again. They were to meet the English upon such a plain, there to make further terms. Ashpalon was much for it, but Wachuset sachems, when they came, were much against it, and were for this : that wc should meet the English, indeed, but there fall upon them and fight them, and take them. Then Ashpalon spake to us English, not to speak a word more to further that matter, for mischief would come of it When those Indians came from Wachuset there came with them squaws and children, about four score, who reported that the English had taken Uncas, and all his men, and sent them beyond sea& They were much enraged at this, and asked if it were true ; we said, no. Then was Ashpalon angry, and said he would no more believe English- men. They examined us every one apart, and then they dealt worse with us for a season than before. Still provision was scarce. We came at length to a place called Squaw Maug river; there we hoped for sal- mon; but we came too late. This place I account to be above two hundred miles above Deerfield. We now parted into two complies; some went one way, and some went another way ; and we went over a mighty mountain, it taking us eight days to go over it, and traveled very hard too, having every day either snow or rain. We noted that on this mountain all the water run northward. Here also we wanted provision ; but at length we met again on the other side of the mountain, viz : on the north side, at a river that runs into the lake ; and we were then half a day's journey off the lake. We stfiid there a great while, to make canoes to go over the lake. Here I was frozen, and again we were like to starve. All the Indians went a hunting, but could get nothing ; divers days they powwowed, and yet got nothing ; then they desired the English to pray, and confessed they could do nothing ; they would have us pray, and see what the Eng- lishman's God could do. I prayed, so did sergeant Plimpton, in another I ^'! y l\ n ! 474 Qinim>y btookwiu.'s oAmvrrr. place. The Indians reverently attended, morning and night Next isf they got bears ; then they would needs hare us desire a blessing, and return thanks at meals; after a while they grew weary of it, and the sachem bid forbid ua When I was frozen they were very cruel toward me because I could not do as at other times. When we came to the lake we were again sadly put to it for provision. We were fain to eat touchwood fried in bear's grease. At last we found a company of rac- coons, and then we made a feast ; and the manner was that we must eat all. I perceived there would be too much for one time, so one Indian who sat next to me bid me slip away some to him under his coat, and he would hide it for me till another time. This Indian, as soon as he had got my meat, stood up and made a speech to the rest, and discovered me ; so that the Indians were very angry and cut me another piece, and gave me raccoon grease to drink, which made me sick and vomit I told them I had enough ; so ever after that they would give me none, but still tell me I had raccoon enough. So I suffered much, and being frozen, was full of pain, and could sleep but a little, yet must do mywork. When they went upon the lake, and as they came to it they lit of a moose and killed it and staid there till they had eaten it all up. Aftci" entering upon the lake, there arose a great storm, and we thought we should all be cast away, but at last we got to an island, and there they went to powwowing. The powwow said that Benjamin Waite and another man was coming, and that storm was raised to cast them away. This afterward appeared to be true, though then I believed them not Upon this island we lay still several days, and then set out again, but a storm took us, so that we lay to and fro, upon certain islands, about three weeks. We had no provision but raccoons, so that the Indians themselves thought they should be starved. They gave me nothing; so that I was sundry days without any provision. We went on upon the lake, upon that isle, about a day's journey. We had a Httle sled upon wliich we drew our load. Before noon, I tired, and just then the Indians met with some Frenchmen ; then one of the Indians that took me, came to me, and called me all manner of bad names, and threw me down upon my back. I told him I could not do any more ; then he sold he must kill me. I thought he was about to do it for he pulled out his knife and cut out my pockets, and wrapped them about my face, helped me up, and took my sled and went away, giving me a bit of biscuit as big as a walnut which he had of the Frenchman, and told me he would give me a pipe of tobacco. When my sled was gone, I could run after him, but at last I could not run, but went a foot-pace. Qunmir 8T0CNKwau.'8 cApnyirr. 4^ The Indians were soon out of sight I followed as well as I could, We went four or five miles before they overtook us. I was then pretty well spent Samuel Russell was, he smd, faint, and wondered how I could live, for he had, he said, ten meals to my one. Then I was laid on the sled, and they ran away with me on the ice ; the rest and Samuel Russell came softly after. Samuel Ilussell I never saw more, nor know I what became of him. They got but half way, and we got through to Shamblee about midnight Six miles oflF Shamblee, (a French town,) the river was open, and, when I came to travel in that part of the ice, I soon tired ; and two Indians ran away to town, and one only was left ; he would carry me a few rods, and then I would go as many, and then a trade we drove, and so were long in going the six miles. This Indian was now kind, and told me that if he did not carry me I would die, and 80 I should have done, sure enough ; and he said I must tell the English how he helped me. When we came to the first house, there was 90 W. It 470 QuiKfTfir iTOc«wiil.'(i CAntytrt. inhabitant The Indian was also spent, and both were discouraged ; he said we must now die together. At last he left me alone, and got to another house, and thence came some French and Indians, and brought me in. The French were kind, and put my hands and feet in cold water, and gave me a dram of brandy, and a little hasty pudding and milk ; when I tasted victuals, I was hungry, and could not have for- borne it, but I could not get it Now and then they would give me a little, as they thought best for me. I laid by the fire with the Indian that night but could not sleep for pain. Next morning, the Indians and French fell out about me, because the French, as the Indians said, loved the English better than the Indians. The French presently turned the Indians out of doors, and kept me. They were very kind and careful, and gave me a little something now and then. While I "was here, all the men in that town came to see me. At this house I was three or four days, and then invited to another, and after that to another. In this place I was about thirteen days, and received much civility from a young man, a bachelor, who invited me to his house, with whom I was for the most part of the time. He was so kind as to lodge me in the bed with himself, gave me a shirt and would have bought me, but could not, as the Indians asked one hundred pounds for me. We were then to go to a place called Sorel, and that young man would go with me, because the Indians should not hurt me. This niian carried me on the ice one day's journey, for I could not now go at all, and there was so much water on the ice we could go no farther. So the Frenchman left me, and provision for me. Here we staid two nights, and then traveled again, for now the ice was strong, and in two days more we came to Sorel. When we got to the first house, it was late in the night ; and here again the people were kind. Next day, being in much pain, I asked the Indians to carry me to the chirurgeons, as they had promised, at which they were wroth, and one of them took up his gun to knock me, but the Frenchman would not suffer it but set upor. him and kicked him out of doors. Then we went away from thence, to a place two or three miles off, where the Indians had wigwams. When I came to these wigwams, some of the Indians knew me, and seemed to pity me. While I was here, which was three or four days, the French came to see me ; and it being Christmas time, they brought cakes and other provisions with them and gave to me, so that I had no want The Indians tried to cure me, but could not Then I asked for the chirur- geon, at which one of the Indians in anger struck me on the face with his fist A Frenchman being by, spoke to him, but I knew not what he QvnmK stookwill's oAPTiyirr. 477 said, and then went his way. By and by came the captain of the place into the wigwam, with about twelve armed men, and asked where the Indian was that struck the Englishman. They took him and told him he should go to the bilboes, and then be hanged. The Indians were much terrified at this, as appeared by their countenances and trembling. I would have gone too, but the Frenchman bid me not fear ; that the Indians durst not hurt me. When that Indian was gone, I had two masters stilL I asked them to carry me to that captain, that I might speak for the Indian. They answered, "You are a fool. Do you think the French are like the English, to say one thing and do another ? They are men of their words." I prevmled with them, however, to help me thither, and I spoke to the captain by an interpreter, and told liim I desired him to set the Indian free, and told him what he had done for me. He told me he was a rogue, and should be hanged. Then I spoke more privately, alledging this reason, that because all the English captives were not come in, if he were hanged, it might fare the worse with them. The captain said " that was to be considered." Then he set him at liberty upon this condition, that he should never strike me more, and every day bring me to his house to cat victuals. I perceived that the common people did not like what the Indians had done and did to the English, When the Indian was set free, he came to me, and took me about the middle, and said I was his brother ; that I had saved his life' once, and he had saved mine thrice. Then he called for brandy and made me drink, and had me away to the wigwams agtiin. When I came there, the Indians came to me one by one, to shake hands with me, saying Wurregen Netop, and were very kind, thinking no other but that I had saved the Indian's life. The next day he carried me to that captain's house, and set me down.f They gave me my victuals and wine, and being left there a while by the Indians, I showed the captain my fingers, which, when he and his wife saw, they ran away from the sight, and bid me lap it up again, and sent for the chirurgeon ; who, when he came, said he could cure me, and took it in hand, and dressed it The Indians toward night came for me ; I told them I could not go with them. They were dis- pleased, called me rogue, and went away. That night I was full of pain; the French feared that I would die ; five men did watch with me, and strove to keep me cheerly, for I was sometimes ready to faint Oftentimes they gave me a little brandy. The next day the chirurgeon came agab, and dressed me ; and so he did all the while I was I I m (Kmrm BrowwMU.'6 oASffmt. among the French. I came in at ChristmM, and went thenee on the second of May. Being thus in the captain's house, I was kept there till Benjamin Waite camo ; and now my Indian master, being in want of money, pawned mo to the captain for fourteen beavers' skins, or the worth of them, at such a day ; if he did not pay, he must lose his pawn, or else sell me for twenty-one beavers, but he could not get beaver, and so I was sold. By being thus sold, adds Dr. Mather, he was in God's good time set at liberty, and returned to hia friends in New England again. »■ ' ' *■* .; ,..f> and three prisoners, who had unhappily fallen into their hands in (.'onogocht iguc, a Bmoll town near the river Susquehanna, chiefly inhabited \>y the Irish. These prisoners gave us some shocking accounts of the murders and devastations com- mitted in their parts; a few instances u'' which will enable the reader to guess at the treatment the provincials have Huffor creature could only cry for mercy by killing him immediately, for his brains were boiling in his head. Inexorable to all he said, they continued the fire till his eyes gushed out of their sockets. Such agonizing torments did this unhappy creature suffer for near two hours before he was quite dead. They then cut off his head, and buried it with the other bodies ; my task being to dig the graves ; which, feeble and terrified as I was, the dread of suffering the same fate enabled me to do. A great snow now falling, the barbarians were fearful lest the white people should, by their tracks, find out their skulking retreats, which obliged them to make the best of their way to their winter quarters, about two hundred miles farther from any plantations or inhabitants. After a long and painful journey, being almost starved, I arrived with this infernal crew at Alamingo. There I found a number of wigwams full of their women and children. Dancing, singing and shouting were their general amusements. And in all their festivals and dances they relate what successes they have had, and what damages they have sus- tained in their expeditions; in which I now unhappily became a part of their theme. The severity of the cold increasing, they stripped me of my clothes for their own use, and gave me such as they usually wore themselves, being a piece of blanket, and a pair of moccasons, or shoes, with a yard of coarse cloth, to put round me instead of breeches. At Alamingo, I remained near two months, till the snow was off the ground. Whatever thoughts I might have of making my escape, to carry them into execution was impracticable, being so far from any plan- tations or white people, and the severe weather rendering my limbs in a manner quite stiff and motionless ; however, I contrived to defend myself against the inclemency of the weather as well as I could, by making myself a little wigwam with the bark of the trees, covering it with earth, which made it resemble a cave ; and to prevent the ill effects of the cold, I kept a good fire always near the door. My liberty of going about was» CAFTIVITr OF FETSR WII.I.IAMS05. 485 indeed, more than I could have expected, but they well knew the im- practicability of my escaping from them. Seeing me outwardly easy and submissive, they would sometimes give me a little meat, but my chief food was Indian corn. At length the time came when they were preparing themselves for another expedition against the planters and white people ; but before they set out, they were joined by many other Indians. As soon as the snow was quite gone, they set forth on their journey toward the back parts of the province of Pennsylvania; all leaving then: wives and children behind in their wigwams. They were now a formi- dable body, amounting to near one hundred and fifty. My business was to carry what they thought proper to load me with, but they never en- trusted me with a gun. We marched on several days without any thing particular occurring, almost famished for want of provisions ; for my part, I had nothing but a few stalks of Indian corn, which I was glad to eat dry ; nor did the Indians themselves fare much better, for as we drew near the plantations they were afraid to kill any game, lest the noise of their guns should alarm the inhabitants. When we again arrived at the Blue hills, about thirty miles from the Irish settlements before mentioned, we encamped for three days, though God knows we had neither tents nor any thing else to defend us from the inclemency of the air, having nothing to lie on by night but the grass ; their usual method of lodging, pitching, or encamping, by night, being in parcels of ten or twelve men to a fire, where they lie upon the grass or brush wrapped up in a blanket, with their feet to the fire. During our stay here, a sort of council of war was held, when it was agreed to divide themselves into companies of about twenty men each; after which every captain marched with his party where he thought proper. I still belonged to my old masters, but was left behind on the mountains Avith ten Indians, to stay till the rest should return; not thinking it proper to carry me nearer to Conogocheague, or the other plantations. Here I began to meditate an escape, and though I knew the country round extremely well, yet I was very cautious of giving the least suspi- cion of any such intention. However, the third day after the grand body left, my companions thought proper to traverse the mountains in search of game for their sustenance, leaving me bound in such a manner that I could not escape. At night, when they returned, having unbound me, we all sat down together to supper on what they had killed, and soon after (being greatly fatigued with their day's excursion) they composed them- selves to rest, as usual. I now tried various ways to try whether it was a 486 CAPTIVITT OF PSTER WILLIAMSOH. scheme to prove my intentions or not; but after making a noise and walking about, sometimes touching them with my feet, I found there was no fallacy. Then I resolved, if possible, to get one of their guns, and, if discovered, to die in my defense, rather than be taken. For that pur- . pose I made various efforts to get one from under their heads, (where they always secured them,) but in vain. Disappointed in this, I began to despair of carrying my design into execution ; yet, after a little recollec- tion, and trusting myself to the divine protection, I set forward, naked and defenseless as I was. Such was my terror, however, that in going from them I halted, and paused every four or five yards, looking fearfully toward the spot where I had left them, lest they should awake and miss me ; but when I was two hundred yards from them, I mended my pace, and made as much haste as I possibly could to the foot of the mountains ; when, on a sudden, I was struck with the greatest terror at hearing the wood cry, as it is called, which the savages I had left were making upon missing their charge. The more my terror increased the faster I pushed on, and scarce knowing where I trod, drove through the woods with the utmost precipitation, sometimes falling and bruising myself, cutting my feet and legs against the stones in a miserable manner. But faint and maimed as I was, I continued my flight till daybreak, when, without hav- ing any thing to sustain nature but a little com left, I crept into a hollow tree, where I lay very snug, and returned my prayers and thanks to the divine Being that had thus far favored my escape. But my repose was in a few hours destroyed at hearing the voices of the savages near the place where I was hid, threatening and talking how they would use me if they got me again. However, they at last left the spot where I heard them, and I remained in my apartment all that day without further molestation. At night I ventured forward again, frightened; thinking each twig that touched me a savage. The third day I concealed myself in like mann^ as before, and at night traveled, keeping off the main road as much as possible, which lengthened my journey many miles. But how shall I describe the terror I felt on the fourth night, when by the rustling I made among the leaves, a party of Indians, that lay round a small fire, which I did not perceive, started from the ground, and seizing their arms, ran from the fire amonsf the woods. Whether to move forward or rest where I was, I knew not, when to my great surprise and joy, I was relieved by a parcel of swine that made toward the place where I guessed the savages to be; who, on seeing them, imagined they had caused the alarm, very merrily returned to»the fire, and lay again down to sleep. Bruised, crippled, and terrified as I was, I pursued my journey till break OAPTIVITT or PBTKR WOXIAMSOH. 487 of day, when, thinking myself safe, I lay down tinder a great log, and slept till about noon. Before erening I reached the summit of a great hill, and looking out if I could spy any habitations of white people, to my inexpressible joy I saw some, which I guessed to be about ten miles distant In the morning, I continued my journey toward the nearest cleared lands I had seen the day before, and, about four o'clock in the afternoon, arrived at the house of John Bell, an old acquaintance, where, knocking at the door, his wife, who opened it, seeing me in such a frightful condi- tion, flew from me screaming, into the house. This alarmed the whole family, who immediately fled to their arms, and I was soon accosted by the master with his gun in his hand. But on making myself known, (for he before took "ne to be an Indian,) he immediately caressed me, as did all his family, with extraordinary friendship, the report of my being mur- dered by the savages having reached them some months before. For two days and nights they very affectionately supplied me with all neces- saries, and carefully attended me till my spirits and limbs were pretty well recovered, and I thought myself able to ride, when I borrowed of these good people (whose kindness merits my most grateful returns) a horse and some clothes, and set forward for my father-in-law's house in Chester county, about one hundred and forty miles from thence, where I arrived on the 4th of January, 1755, (but scarce one of the family could credit theur eyes, believing, with the people I had lately left, that I had fallen a prey to the Indians,) where I was received and embraced by the whole family with great affection. Upon mquiring for my dear wife, I foimd she had been dead two months! This fatal news greatly lessened the joy I otherwise should have felt at my deliverance from the dreadful state and company I had been in. /» . \' NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY JONATHAN CARVER. Obh. Webb, who commanded the English army in North America, which was then (ll5l) encamped at fort Edward, having intelligence that the French troops, under Monsieur Montcalm, were making some morements toward fort William Henry, he detached a corps of ahout fifteen hundred men, consisting of English and provincials, to strengthen the garrison. In this party I went as a volunteer among the latter. The apprehensions of the English general were not without foundation ; for, the day after our arrival, we saw lake George, (formerly lake Sacra- ment,) to which it Ues contiguous, covered with an immense number of boats; and, in a few hours, we found our lines attacked W the French general, who had just landed with eleven thousand regulars and Canadi- ans, and two thousand Indians. Colonel Monro, a brave officer, com- manded the fort, and had no more than two thousand three hundred men with him, our detachment included. With these, he made a gallant defense, and probably would have been able, at last, to preserve the fort, had he been properly supported, and permitted to continue his efforts. On every summons to surrender, sent by the French general, who offered the most honorable terms, his answer repeatedly was, that he yet found himself in a condition to repel the most vigoroiis attack his besiegers were able to make ; and, if he thought his present force insufficient, he could soon be supplied with a greater niuiber from the adjacent army. But the colonel ha\ing acquainted General Webb with his situation, and desired that he would send him some fresh troops, the general dis- patched a messenger to him with a letter, wherein he informed liim that it was not in his power to assist him, and, therefore, gave him orders to surrender up the fort, on the best terms he could prociu-e. This packet OAFTIVIIT OF CAPTAIN OABVXB. 489 M into the hands of the French general, who immediately sent a flag of truce, desiring a conference with the governor. They accordingly met, attended only by a small guard, in the center between the lines; when Monsieur Montcalm told the colonel that he was come in person to demand possession of the fort, as it belonged to the king his master. The colonel replied, that he knew not how that could be, nor should he surrender it up, while it was in his power to defend it The French general rejoined, at the same time delivering the packet into the colonel's hand, " By this authority do I make the requisition." The brave governor had no sooner read the contents of it, and was con- vinced that such were the orders of the commander-in-chief, and not to be disobeyed, than he hung his head in silence, and reluctantly entered into a negotiation. In consideration of the gallant defense the garrison had made, they were to be permitted to march out with all the honors of war, to be allowed covered wagons to transport their baggage to fort Edward, and a guard to protect them from the fury of the savages. The morning after the capitulation was signed, as soon as day broke, the whole garrison, now consisting of about two thousand men, besides women and children, were drawn up within the lines, and on the point of marching off, when great numbers of the Indians gathered about, and began to plunder. We were at first in hopes that this was their only view, and suffered them to proceed without opposition. Indeed, it was not in our power to make any, had we been so inclined ; for though we were permitted to carry off our arms, yet we were not allowed a single round of ammunition. In these hopes, however, we were disappointed ; for presently some of them began to attack the sick and wounded, when such as were not able to crawl into the ranks, notwithstanding they endea- vored to avert the fury of their enemies by their shrieks or groans, were soon dispatched. Here we were fully in expectation that the disturbance would have concluded ; and our little army began to move ; but in a short time we saw the front division driven back, and discovend that we were entirely encircled by the savages. We expected every moment that the guard, which the French, by the articles of capitulation, had agreed to allow us, would have arrived, and put an end to our apprehensions; but none appeared. The Indians now began to strip every one, without exception, of their arms and clothes, and those who mude the least resistance felt the weight of their tomahawks. I happened to be in the rear division, but it was not long before I shared the fate of my companions Three or four of the savages laid 400 OAPmnXT OF OAPTAIH OABYKR. hold of me, and while some held their weapons over my head, the others soon disrobed me of my coat, w^stcoat, liat, and buckles, omitting not to take from me what money I had in my pocket. As this was transacted close by the passage that led from the lines on to the plain, near which a French sentinel was posted, I ran to him and claimed his protection ; but he only called me an English dog, and thrust mo with violence back again into the midst of the Indians. I now endeavored to join a body of our troops that were crowded together at some distance ; but innumerable were the blows that were made at me with different weapons, as I passed on ; luckily, however, the savages Avere so close together that they could not strike at me without en- dangering each other. Notwithstanding which, one of them found means to make a thrust at me with a spear, which grazed my side, and from another I received a wound, with the same kind of weapon, in my ankle. At length I gained the spot where my countrymen stood, and forced myself into the midst of them. But before I got thus far out of the hands of the Indians, the collar and wristbands of my shirt were all that remained of it, and my flesh was scratched and torn in many places by their savage gripes. By this time the war-whoop was given, and the Indians began to murder those that were nearest to them, without distinction. It is not in the power of words to give any tolerable idea of the horrid scene that now ensued; men, women, and children were dispatched in the most wanton and cruel manner, and immediately scalped. Many of these savages drank the blood of their victims, as it flowed warm £r(yn the fatal wound. We now perceived, though too late to avail us, that we were to expect no relief from the French ; and that, contrary to the agreement they had so lately signed, to allow us a sufficient force to protect us from these insults, they tacitly permitted them; for, I could plainly perceive the French officers walking about at some distance, discoursing together with apparent unconcern. For the honor of human nature, I would hope that this flagrant breach of everj^ sacred law proceeded rather from the savage disposition of the Indians, which, I acknowledge, it is sometimes almost impossible to control, and which might now unexpectedly have arrived to a pitch not easily to be restrained, than to any premeditated design in the French commander. An unprejudiced observer would, however, be apt to conclude, that a body of ten thousand christian troogs — most christian troops — had it in their power to prevent the massacre from becoming r- < general. But, whatever was the cause from which it arose, the conse- quences of it were dreadful, and not to be paralleled in modern history. OAFnvrrr or captain oarybk As the circle in which I stood inclosed, was by this time much thinned, and death seemed to be approaching with hasty strides, it was proposed by some of the most resolute, to make one vigorous effort, and endeavor to force our way tlirough the savages, the only probable method of preserv- ing our lives, that now remained. This, however desperate, was resolved on, and about twenty of us sprang at once into the midst of them. In a moment we were all separated, and what was the fate of my com- panions I could not learn till some months after, when I found that only six or seven of them effected their design. Intent only on my own hazardous situation, I endeavored to make my way through my savage enemies in the best manner possible. And I have often been astonished since, when I have recollected with what composure I took, as I did, every necessary step for my preservation. Some I overturned, being at that time young and athletic, and others I passed by, dexterously avoiding their weapons ; till at last two very stout chiefs, of the most savage tribes, as I could distinguish by their dress, whose strength I could not resist, laid hold of me by each arm, and began to force me through the crowd. I now resigned myself to my fate, not doubting but that they intended to dispatch me, and then to satiate their vengeance with my blood, as I found they were hurrying me toward a retired swamp that lay at some distance. But, before we had got many yards, an English gentleman of some distinction, as I could discover by his breeches, the only covering he had on, which were of fine scarlet velvet, rushed close by us. One of the Indians instantly relinquished his hold, and springing on this new object, endeavored to seize him as his prey; but the gentleman being strong, threw him on the ground, and would probably have got away, had not he who held my other arm quitted me to assist his brother. I seized the opportunity, and hastened away to join another party of Eng- lish troops that were yet unbroken, and stood in a body at some distance. But before I had taken many steps, I hastily cast my eye toward the gen- tleman, and saw the Indian's tomahawk gash into his back, and heard him utter his last groan. This added both to my speed and desperation. I had left this shocking scene but a few yards, when a fine boy, about twelve years of age, that had hitherto escaped, came up to me, and begged that I would let him lay hold of me, so that he might stand some chance of getting out of the hands of the savages. I told him that I would give him every assistance in my power, and to this purpose, bid him lay hold ; but in a few moments he was torn from my side, and by his shrieks I judge was soon demolished. I could not help forgetting my own cares for a minute, to lament the fafe of so young a sufferer; but it was utterly impossible for me to take any methods to prevent it 411 OAPTITITT Oy OAPTAIir OARTSB. I now got once more into the midst of friends, but we were unable to afford each other any succor. As this was the division that had advanced the furthest from the fort, I thought there might be a possibility (though but a bare one) of my forcing my way through the outer ranks of the Indians, and getting to a neighboring wood, which I perceived at some distance. I was still encouraged to hope by the almost miraculous pre* servation I had already experienced. Nor were my hopes in vain, or the eflforts I made inefifectual. SuiBce to say, that I reached the wood ; but by the time I had penetrated a little way into it, my breath was so exhausted that I threw myself into a break, and lay for some minutes apparently at the lost gasp. At length I recovered the power of respiration; but my apprehensions returned with all their former force, when I saw several savages pass by, probably in pursuit of me, at no very great distance. In this situation I knew not whether it was better to proceed, or endeavor to conceal myself where I lay till night came on ; fearing, however, that they would return the same way, I thought it most prudent to get further from the dreadful scene of my distresses Accordingly, striking into another part of the wood, I hastened on as fast as the briers and the loss of one of my shoes would permit me ; and after a slow progress of some hours, gained a hill that overlooked the plain which I had just left, from whence I coiild discern that the bloody storm still raged with unabated fury. But, not to tire my readers, I shall only add, that after passing three days without subsistence, and enduring the severity of the cold dews for three nights, I at length reached fort Edward ; where, with proper care my body soon recovered its wonted strength, and my mind, as far as the recollection of the late melancholy events would permit, its usual composure. It was computed that fifteen hundred persons were killed or made prisoners by these savages during this fatal day. Many of the latter were carried ofiF by them and never returned. A few, through favorable accidents, found their way back to their native country, after having experienced a long and severe captivity. The brave CoL Monro had hastened away, soon after the confusion began, to the French camp, to endeavor to procure the guard agreed by the stipulation; but his application proving ineffectual, he remained there till General Webb sent a party of troops to demand and protect him back to fort Edward. But these unhappy occurrences, which would probably .have been prevented had he been left to pursue his own plans, together with the loss of so many brave fellows, murdered in cold blood, to whose valor he had been so lately a witness, made such an impression on his oApnynr ow oavtatb oarvkr. 493 mind that he did not long survire. He died in about three months, of a broken heart, and with truth might it be said, that he was an honor to his country. I mean not to point out the following circumstance as the immediate judgment of Heaven, and intended as an atonement for this slaughter, but I cannot omit that very few of those different tribes of Indians that shared in it ever lived to return home. The small-pox, by means of their communication with the Europeans, found its way among them, and made an equal havoc to what they themselves had done. The methods they pursued on the first attack of that malignant disorder, to abate the fever attending it, rendered it fatal While their blood was in a state of fermentation, and nature was striving to throw out the peccanl. matter, they checked her operations by plunging into the water ; the consequence was that they died by hundreds. The few that survived, were trans- formed by it into hideous objects, and bore with them to the grave deep indented marks of this much dreaded disease. Monsieur Montcalm fell soon after en the plains of Quebec. That the unprovoked cruelty of this commander was not approved of by the generality of his countrymen, I have since been convinced of by many proofs. Only one, however, which I received from a person who was witness to it, shall I at present give. A Canadian merchant, of some consideration, having heard of the surrender of the English fort, cele- brated the fortunate event with great rejoicings and hospitality, according to the custom of that country ; but no sooner did the news of the mas- sacre which ensued reach his ears, than he put an immediate stop to the festivities, and exclaimed in the severest terms against the inhuman permission ; declaring at the same time that those who had connived at it had thereby drawn down on that part of their king's dominions the vengeance of Heaven. To this he added, that he much feared the total loss of them, would deservedly be the consequence. How truly this prediction has been verified, we well know. ■m \t NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY MRS. SCOTT. Mrs. Scott, a resident of Washington county, Virginia, was taken captive by Indians on the night of the twenty-ninth of June, 1786. Her husband and all her children were slain ; and before morning she was forced to commence her march through the wilderness. On the eleventh day of her captivity, while in charge of four Indians, provision becoming scarce, a halt was made, and three of the number went on a hunting excursion. Being left in the care of an old man, she made him believe she was reconciled to her condition, and thus threw him off his guard. Anxious to escape, and having matured her plans, she asked him, in the most disinterested manner possible, to let her go to a small stream, near by, and wash her apron, which was besmeared witli the blood of one of her children. He gave her leave, and v, ii'le he wtis busy in " graining a deer-skin," she started off. Arriving at the stream, without a moment's hesitation, she pushed on in the direction of a moun- tain. Traveling till late at night, she came into a valley where she hoped to find the track along which slie had been taken by her captors, and thereby be able to retrace her stops. Hurrying across the valley to the margin of a river, which she supposed must be the eastern branch of the Kentucky, she discovered in the sand the tracks of two men who had followed the stream upward and returned. Thinking them to be the prints of pursuers, and that they had returned from the search, she took courage, thanked God, and was prepared to continue her flight. On the third day she came very near falling into the hands of savages, a company Avhom she supposed had been sent to Clinch river on a pilfer- ing excursion. Hearing their approach before they came in sight, she concealed herself, and they passed without noticing lier. She now became greatly alarmed, and was so bewildered as to lose her way and to wander at random for several daya I. Boon's OAPTXYITT. At length, coming to a stream that seemed to flow from the concluded it must be Sandy river; and resolving to trace it to its soutc# which was near a settlement where she was acquainted, she pushed on for several days, till she came into mountainous regions and to craggy steeps. There, in the vicinity of a " prodigious waterfall," she was forced to leap from a precipice, upon some rocks, and was so stunned as to be obliged to make a short delay in her journey. Soon after passing through the mountain, (Laurel mountain,) she was bitten by a snake which she supposed was venomous. She killed it, and expected her turn to die would come next; but the only injury she received was some pain and the slight swelling of one foot A writer, whose narration we follow, and whose facts are more reliable than his philo- sophy, thinks that, being "reduced to a mere skeleton, with fatigue, hunger and grief," she was probably, on that account, " saved from the eflFects of the poisonous fangs." * Leaving the river, Mrs. Scott came to a forked valley, and watching the flight of birds, took the branch they did, and in two days came in sight of New Garden, the settlement on Clinch river, before referred to. Thus, after wandering in the wilderness for six long weeks, almost destitute of clothing, without a weapon of defense or instrument for obtaining pro- vision ; exposed to wild beasts and merciless savages ; subsisting a full month on the juice of young cane stalks, sassafras leaves and similar food, looking to God in prayer for guidance by day, and for protection by nighl; shielded from serious harm, and led by an unseen Hand, on the eleventh of August, the wanderings of the widowed and childless cap%e were brought to a close. J. C. THB BRa