OGDEN'S ROCKY MOUNTAIN NARRATIVE. -^TF 
 
 14. [OGDEN, PETER SKEENE]. Traits of American Indian Life and 
 iracter. By a Fur Trader. 218 pp., 8vo, cloth. London, 1853. ' 45.00 
 
 MGiNAL EDITION. Wagner, No. 196. The author was Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Com- 
 and this narrative relates entirely to Oregon and the Northwest, where he trapped and 
 sd from 1820 onward. It was he who rescued the captive white girls from the Indians at the 
 tman Massacre. The work also recounts Jedediah Smith's travels in Oregon in 1828. 
 
TEAITS 
 
 OF 
 
 AMEKICAN-INDIAN LIFE 
 
 AND 
 
 CHAEACTEE, 
 

TRAITS 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICAN -INDIAN LIFE 
 
 AND 
 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 BY A FUR TRADER. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL. 
 BOMBAY : SMITH, TAYLOR AND CO. 
 
77 
 
 The author of this work reserves the right of authorizing a 
 translation of it. 
 
 London : 
 
 Printed by STEWART & MURRAY, 
 Old Bailey. 
 

 TO 
 
 LADY SIMPSON, 
 
 Mfffomg JSReftixes anfr 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF LIFE 
 ON THE WILD BORDERS OF THE PACIFIC, 
 
 AND OF THE SAVAGE TRIBES HOLDING INTERCOURSE WITH 
 THE HONOURABLE HUDSON'S BAY COMPANY, 
 
 OVER WHICH 
 
 SIR GEORGE SIMPSON 
 
 HAS SO LONG AND SO ABLY PRESIDED, 
 
 ARE DEDICATED, 
 AS A SMALL TRIBUTE OF AFFECTIONATE REGARD, 
 
 BY HER LADYSHIP'S SINCERE AND DEVOTED FRIEND, 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IT is well known that the life of an Indian 
 trader is one of hazard and adventure ; and 
 that he is the witness of scenes, exemplifying 
 the habits and the character of Indians, which 
 it is seldom the lot of an ordinary traveller to 
 look upon. Compelled to penetrate the wil 
 derness, hundreds of miles heyond the resort 
 of civilized men, he surprises the savage inha 
 bitants in their most secluded haunts, and 
 often makes himself a home where the keen 
 ness of his observation, his previous knowledge 
 of character, and the material interests of the 
 wild race by which he is surrounded, are the 
 only pledges of his safety. The long estab 
 lished trading posts also, in the neighbourhood 
 
yiii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of which some degree of civilization may obtain, 
 are lone and isolated spots, the light of which 
 dimly fades away in the surrounding darkness/ 
 and but too often brings into strong relief, on 
 its confines, the startling forms and hideous 
 characteristics of a barbaric life, which is yet 
 gilded with some traits of nobleness and 
 generosity, and which the trader, if any man 
 living, is enabled to look upon with an intelli 
 gent eye. 
 
 Such are the circumstances and such the 
 situation in which the writer of the following 
 pages has been placed, as an agent of the great 
 trading Company whose operations now cover 
 as with a vast network the breast of the 
 North American continent, from Hudson's 
 Bay to the Pacific Ocean. As an actor in the 
 scenes which he has faithfully described, it is 
 just possible that he may sometimes express 
 his opinions with unusual warmth. His sin 
 cerity, and the fidelity of his narrations, no 
 one will doubt, when they find the savage 
 virtues as conspicuous in many of his sketches 
 as the darker traits of character which it was 
 his more especial purpose to delineate. 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 shifting* scene of his narrative may be 
 described, for the most part, as the famous 
 Oregon territory, lying- in the watercourse of 
 the great Columbia River and its numerous 
 tributaries.' The country is one of wild aspect, 
 diversified by rug-g-ed steeps and deep ravines, 
 with here and there a rich valley of green 
 pasture, watered by some mountain torrent 
 pursuing- its devious way to the broad waters 
 and boundless prairie lands, or sandy plains. 
 The wild races inhabiting this widely-spread 
 region are of various character ; in g-erieral, 
 those who follow the chase the mountain 
 and woodland tribes are the more warlike 
 and g-enerous ; while those who live along- 
 the banks of the streams in the more fertile 
 regions, are comparatively mean in spirit and 
 treacherous in their intercourse. To this rule, 
 it may be observed, there are many exceptions 
 on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, 
 which it is scarcely necessary to mention. 
 
 If the author can be said to have any pre 
 ference for one of these swarthy clans before 
 another, it is possibly for the chivalrous 
 " Flatheads," who (( have never been known 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to shed the blood of a white man/* and are 
 as brave in war as the " Crows" and " Black- 
 feet/' their hereditary enemies.* It is against 
 these latter, more especially, that his righteous 
 anathemas are hurled as the persecutors of the 
 Indian trader, whose courage and hardihood 
 often avail nothing, when beset by Indians in 
 the defiles of the mountains, or threading his 
 way through the mazes of the forests. To sur 
 prise the weary traveller in the security of his 
 sleep, to attack the camp in some luckless 
 moment when discipline is for a while relaxed ; 
 or, least of all, to rob the armed traders and 
 trappers of their stray pack-horses, these pre 
 datory bands will follow them through wood 
 and ravine for weary days and nights, lurking 
 with untiring patience in the bushes, like 
 beasts of prey, or peering from the crevices 
 of the rocks till the yell of their sudden onset 
 renders concealment no longer possible or 
 necessary. 
 
 * Five different tribes, inhabiting the plain country to 
 the east of the Rocky, are denominated Blackfeet, viz., 
 Piegans, Blood Indians, " Gros Ventres " or Big Bellies, 
 Surcies, and Blackfeet Proper. 
 
 
INTKODUCTION. xi 
 
 The traits of Indian life and character illus 
 trated by the following- sketches are, however, 
 not all, nor even for the most part, of this 
 nature \ some of them are domestic scenes 
 of tragic interest, and others relate occur 
 rences in which the Indians had little or no 
 direct share. It may be observed here, also, 
 that great and rapid chang-es are taking- place, 
 by which the native population of these wilds 
 is more and more sensibly affected every suc 
 ceeding- year. Not the least of these is the 
 extended org-anization of the great Fur Com 
 pany, which has now penetrated the remotest 
 districts, and sends its emissaries into the most 
 secluded glens. Next to this, perhaps, may 
 be reckoned the rivalry of the English and 
 American adventurers, and the recent influx 
 of immigrants from the United States. 
 
 A word on this subject, on the toils and 
 privations which must necessarily be under- 
 g-one by those who seek a home beyond the 
 Rocky Mountains, may not be out of place. 
 It is hard to conceive by what inducement so 
 many thousands of reasonable men could have 
 been prevailed on to leave their comfortable 
 
xii INTKODUCTION. 
 
 S 
 
 homes and fertile lands for this wild adven 
 ture ; except, indeed, the spirit of enterprise, 
 which seems to be inherent in the Anglo- 
 American race, and which rejoices to meet 
 and overcome every kind of difficulty, is 
 sufficient to account for it. By whatever hope 
 induced to undertake this distant pilgrimage, 
 it is sad to think of the disappointment that 
 awaits the lately happy family whose home 
 stead is hroken up, and their little all con 
 veyed into these deserts hy the poor animals 
 which had heretofore rendered such useful ser 
 vice on their farms, sad to picture them, 
 herding together for mutual protection, as 
 they advance slowly, while the months roll 
 on, through a country teeming with warlike 
 marauders, and often surprised by the trea 
 cherous bands described in these pages. In 
 course of time the waters of the Missouri roll 
 behind them, and the river of their hopes may 
 be seen glancing in the distance. Now, how 
 ever, the dreary wastes of burning sand and 
 scrubby wormwood, unrelieved by any nobler 
 vegetation and affording a scanty pasture to 
 the tired quadrupeds at wide intervals only, 
 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiii 
 
 begin to dissipate the sanguine hopes in which 
 they had so lately indulged. Provisions fail ; 
 hunger, thirst, privation in every form are en 
 dured ; till, weary and way- worn, the travellers 
 at length reach the banks of the Columbia. 
 If fortunate, they effect various exchanges with 
 the Indians for fresh horses, to replace their 
 own tired animals no longer able to proceed. 
 Their little hoards of ready money are ex 
 pended to procure the necessaries of existence, 
 and they arrive at length in the settlements 
 denuded of everything in short, destitute 
 to begin the world anew. 
 
 While the hazards these adventurers must 
 underg-o, and the savage life of the wilderness 
 for which they are bound, will be found illus 
 trated in these occasional sketches of Indian 
 life, it may be well to remark that to depict 
 them has not been the object of the author; 
 as the occurrences he has described were 
 spread over many years, and have a different 
 kind of interest. Impressed by them at the 
 time as an eye-witness, he has here recorded 
 them without art or ornament, in the hope 
 that they may serve for the amusement of 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 others who feel an interest in tales of adven 
 ture, and to add to the stock of authentic 
 anecdotes from which alone a true judgment 
 of the Indian character can he formed. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chap. Page 
 
 I. Experience of the Indian Character ... 1 
 
 II. The Red Feather, Flathead Chief .- . . 22 
 III. The Burial of the Dead and the Living , . . 48 
 
 IV. An Indian Festival 57 
 
 V. A Tale of Western Caledonia . . . .70 
 
 VI. The Bloody Tragedy . 110 
 
 vil. The Burning of the Dead 126 
 
 VIII. Intermittent Fever . . . . . .137 
 
 IX. A Western Caledonian Feast .... 147 
 
 X. The Great Dalles of the Columbia . . .163 
 XL The Unfortunate Daughter . . . .176 
 
 Xn. The Shewappe Murderer 187 
 
 XIIL The Storm. The Mother's Grave . . .196 
 XIV. The Suicide's Cross . . - . . . .202 
 XV. The Death of our Favourite Donkey . . . 207 
 XVI. The London Packet , 213 
 

TEAITS . 
 
 or 
 
 AMERICAN INDIAN LIFE, 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 EXPEKIENCE OF THE INDIAN CHAEAOTER. 
 
 HAYING had frequent opportunities of ob 
 serving 1 the customs and traits of character 
 hy which the various trihes of Indians are 
 distinguished^ and more particularly of those 
 who inhabit the western part of North America 
 beyond the Rocky Mountains, I have been 
 surprised to remark how falsely their character 
 is estimated in the recently published journals 
 of certain travellers. These gentlemen have 
 been delighted to represent the aborigines of 
 North America, as quiet, peaceable souls, me 
 riting- nothing so much as the most delicate at- 
 
 B 
 
2 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 tention on the part of their European visitors. 
 Two works of this description are more par 
 ticularly in my mind at this moment. The 
 author of the first, it is to be observed, 
 scarcely left the confines of civilization and 
 the second had merely an opportunity of 
 communicating 1 with a few Indians who had 
 resided from their infancy in the vicinity of 
 long- established trading* posts, where they had 
 acquired the art of comporting- themselves 
 with some degree of propriety, in order the 
 more readily to gain a livelihood and to ac 
 quire the means of satisfying- their fictitious 
 wants. The forefathers of these people, being- 
 independent of the traders, made no scruple 
 of exhibiting the vices which their sons are 
 studious to conceal. Their wants were com 
 paratively few; the bow and arrow sup 
 plied the means of procuring- larg-e ani 
 mals ; from the bark of the willow they made 
 fishing- nets ; the skin of the hare or the bea 
 ver sufficed them for clothing-; and fire was 
 always at their command by resort to friction. 
 By these and the like simple means were all 
 their necessities supplied ; and there is no rea- 
 
INDIAN CHARACTEK. 3 
 
 son to doubt that they lived as happily as 
 their natural disposition to indulge in war and 
 rapine would permit. It cannot be said that 
 the present generation is really improved by the 
 change they have undergone in some of these re 
 spects. The trader, having in view his own sole 
 benefit, has taught them the use of European 
 clothing^ with the addition of much superfluous 
 finery and their modern virtues become them 
 about as well as these garments; and are just 
 as consistent with their real character. In a 
 word; those very Indians whose quiet de 
 meanour has been so much lauded; only con 
 ceal; under this specious mask; all the vices 
 which their fathers displayed more openly: 
 unprovoked murder and habitual theft are 
 committed by them whenever the opportu 
 nity offers ; and their character; generally; is 
 of a description to afford a constant source 
 of anxiety to those who reside among them. 
 
 Such being the treacherous disposition of 
 those Indians who ; residing in the immediate 
 vicinity of the trading posts; are in a great 
 measure restrained by fear ; and other causes 
 co-operating; to check their evil propensities. 
 
4 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 what must he be destined to experience who 
 wanders among- the lawless tribes that are 
 strangers to the faces of Europeans ? It is 
 the dark character of the latter that I shall 
 here endeavour to illustrate, leaving- it to my 
 readers' judgment whether the reports that tra 
 vellers have chosen to spread respecting- them, 
 are worthy of his reliance. In some of the suc 
 ceeding- sketches, the savag-e virtues are also a 
 little shown ; for what may be called virtue in 
 the breast of a wild Indian cannot be denied 
 them, thoug-h it may be manifested in glaring- 
 defiance of the laws of civilized society. 
 
 (In 1829 I was appointed to explore the 
 tract lying- south of the Columbia, between 
 that river and California. For five years pre 
 viously I had been similarly employed to the 
 eastward of that tract, where I had had many 
 rencontres with the warlike tribes that cross 
 from the east side of the Rocky Mountains, to 
 wag-e war with those residing- on the west. 
 War, hunting-, and horse-thieving-, are the sole 
 pursuits of these reckless arid most terrible of all 
 forag'ers, in the prosecution of which they have 
 no respect for persons. The prizes they most 
 
INDIAN CHAEACTER. 5 
 
 covet are scalps and horses it matters not 
 whether they he snatched from trader or In 
 dian 5 though, in the former case, they have 
 heen taught to purchase them more dearly 
 than the latter. In my different meeting's 
 with them, I have heen so far fortunate as to 
 lose only three men,Vbut it is in this quarter 
 that drawing-room authors should travel, and 
 I will venture to say they will return if indeed 
 they are so fortunate as to escape home again 
 with a far different impression of the character 
 of Indians than they seem to entertain. 
 
 It was in the month of September that I 
 hade adieu to the shores of the Columbia 
 River, with a party composed of thirty men, 
 well appointed, to overcome the obstacles and 
 encounter the perils which long experience 
 had taught me to anticipate. True, indeed, 
 we could not boast of India-rubber pillows or 
 boots, nor of preserved meats and soups, with 
 many other deemed indispensable adjuncts 
 introduced by modern travellers. However, 
 let me confess at once the vast difference 
 between those who travel in pursuit of 
 amusement or science, and men like us who 
 
6 TKAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 only encounter these hardships for vile lucre. 
 Though we must need content ourselves with 
 the blanket and the gun, we do, at least, pos 
 sess this advantage over them, that we usually 
 succeed in our arduous undertakings. On the 
 other hand, we descend unnoticed to the grave, 
 while honours and titles are lavished upon our 
 rivals in enterprise ! 
 
 Difficulties, many and greater than I had 
 anticipated, began to crowd upon us; and 
 though, by perseverance, we were enabled 
 to surmount them, our sufferings and trials 
 were truly great. There were times when we 
 tasted no food, and were unable to discover 
 water for several days together; without 
 wood, we keenly felt the cold ] wanting grass, 
 our horses were reduced to great weakness, so 
 that many of them died, on whose emaciated 
 carcasses we were constrained to satisfy the 
 intolerable cravings of our hunger, and as a 
 last resource, to quench our thirst with their 
 blood. Such are the privations and miseries 
 to which Indian traders are subject in the 
 prosecution of their precarious vocation. 
 
 After leaving the Columbia, we journeyed a 
 
INDIAN CHARACTER. 7 
 
 month through a sterile country, before we 
 came upon the traces of any human inha 
 bitants, who then appeared more numerous 
 than I had expected. On the day following 
 their first appearance, a party consisting 1 of ten 
 men, who had been sent in advance as scouts, 
 came in sight of about fifty Indians, who 
 fled on their approach, but not soon enough 
 to prevent the capture of two of their number. 
 These were fully sufficient to answer all my 
 views, which were to obtain, if possible, some 
 information of the country before us ; the 
 amount of our knowledge at present being 
 the course pursued, which, as indicated by the 
 compass, was south-west. Having secured 
 the two strangers, we treated them with all 
 possible kindness, and by signs endeavoured 
 to express our wishes. This is the policy 
 adopted by all explorers of wild countries, 
 and there surely cannot be a more humane 
 one ; although, in my opinion, which is 
 founded on general experience, and confirmed, 
 as will immediately appear, by the event in 
 this particular case, it is directly opposed to 
 the attainment of the desired end. It is 
 
8 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 something' to hazard the remark^ yet I will 
 venture the opinion, that had it, on the first 
 discovery of new countries, heen resolved to 
 treat the savages with the greatest severity, the 
 eventual sacrifice of many lives on their own 
 part would have been avoided, and the mur 
 derous blow averted from many an unfortunate 
 victim, whose only offence has been the heap 
 ing' of undeserved favours on wretches whose 
 hearts were callous to the emotions of gratitude.' 
 Having- succeeded in gaining some partial 
 information of the country in advance of us, 
 I dismissed my informants, first presenting* 
 them with a few baubles in return. Wild as 
 deer, they were soon out of sight, but the 
 kind reception they had met with being*, as I 
 suppose, duly represented to then* countrymen, 
 they returned on the morrow, accompanied by 
 a large body of them, who soon became very 
 troublesome. Every thing* about us attracted 
 their curious attention our horses, if possible, 
 still more than ourselves. It was with evident 
 reluctance that our numerous visitors left us 
 in the evening, a few of them, indeed, hinting- 
 a wish to remain. This, I doubt not, was 
 
INDIAN CHARACTER. 9 
 
 with the double view of observing- how we 
 secured our horses, and the precautions we took 
 to g-uard against surprise, and to enable them 
 selves to concert measures with their asso 
 ciates the more effectually to betray us. I 
 g-ave orders to clear the camp, and for the 
 night watch to turn out, upon which they 
 went away. 
 
 At the dawn of day, according- to my in 
 variable custom, I had all the men aroused, 
 the fires lig'hted, and the horses collected in 
 the camp ; this being- the hour that Indians 
 always fix upon for making- their predatory 
 attacks, it being- then, as they say, that men 
 sleep most soundly. In this, as in other cal 
 culations of a savag-e cunning-, they are not 
 far wrong-. They would certainly have found 
 it so in our case, had the precaution alluded 
 to not been adopted ; for, fatigued with the 
 long- march of the day, and wearied with 
 anxious watching- during* the several divisions 
 of the night, the long -deferred slumbers of 
 the men were doubly sweet and sound when 
 tired Nature could at last indulg-e herself. 
 Thanks to the method we observed, every one 
 
10 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 was awake and stirring- preparing, in fact, for 
 a start when I perceived, in the gray dawn, a 
 large body of Indians drawing 1 near. When 
 within a short distance of the camp, they hesi 
 tated to advance, as if dubious of the reception 
 that awaited them. This had a suspicious ap 
 pearance, nothing- having 1 occurred on the pre 
 vious day to give rise to any doubt that it would 
 be otherwise than friendly. We were not long- 
 left in uncertainty of their hostile intentions, 
 for a shower of arrows was presently dis- 
 charg-ed into the camp. This was too much 
 for our forbearance ; I considered it high time 
 to convince them that we could resent the un 
 provoked attack. Three of our horses were 
 already wounded, and if we ourselves had 
 escaped, it was probably owing- to the poor 
 beasts having- sheltered us from the arrows. 
 I therefore ordered a rifle to be discharged at 
 them. The ball was true to its aim, and a 
 man fell. This was sufficient as a first lesson ; 
 for on witnessing it they at once took to 
 flig'ht, leaving their companion dead on the 
 field, as a mark of their evil design and its 
 punishment. I trust they were not only duly 
 
INDIAN CHARACTER. 11 
 
 impressed with our superiority over them, but 
 likewise with a sense of the lenient treatment 
 they had received; although, from past ex 
 perience, I could have little hope at the time 
 that the effect of either would be very durable. 
 I After three days' further travelling-, over a 
 country as barren as ever Christian traversed, 
 we came to the lands of another tribe, residing" 
 on the waters of the Bio Colorado. These 
 Indians I strongly suspected to be the same 
 who, the year preceding-, had massacred ten 
 men attached to the party of Mr. Smith, an 
 American adventurer. ; 
 
 This ill-fated party consisted originally of 
 thirty -five individuals, all of whom, except 
 ing- four, fell victims on this and other occa 
 sions to the blood-thirsty spirit of the na 
 tives. Thoug-h he was one of those who 
 escaped, it would almost appear as if this 
 enterprising- American had been doomed even 
 tually to suffer a like fate, for the following 
 year, while on his way from St. Louis to Cali 
 fornia, for the purpose of purchasing- mules 
 and horses, he left the main party about three 
 miles, accompanied only by two men, in quest 
 
12 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of water. He found the object of his search, 
 and paid for it the heavy price of his life. 
 His protracted absence naturally exciting- con 
 siderable alarm, thoug*h his true fate was not 
 immediately suspected, search was made, and 
 his body, tog-ether with those of his two com 
 panions, found stark and stiff upon the ground. 
 The unhappy men had been murdered in cold 
 blood, by Indians concealed in the bushes till 
 the favourable moment arrived for the ac 
 complishment of their ruthless purpose. 
 
 I was intimately acquainted with poor 
 Smith, and it was from himself that I learned 
 the particulars of his misfortunes first alluded 
 to. As the brief story will tend to confirm 
 my observations upon the Indian character, I 
 will here relate it in the narrator's own words. 
 
 " After suffering- severely in crossing- the 
 barren desert, I was truly well pleased," said 
 he, "to discover a fine stream of fresh water, 
 which proved to be the north branch of the 
 Bio Colorado. On sounding- it, I found it too 
 deep to ford, and as grass, which my lean 
 horses much required, appeared to be far 
 more abundant on the opposite side, I ordered 
 
INDIAN CHAEACTEE. 13 
 
 ten men of the party to get them across, which 
 they accordingly did, by driving- them into the 
 water, and accompanying- them swimming-. 
 For several days I had heen unsuccessfully 
 searching- ahove and below our position for a 
 fording- place, without discovering- a vestig-e of 
 any human inhabitants \ but no sooner had 
 my men landed on the opposite shore, than 
 upwards of a hundred Indians rushed on them, 
 from behind a thicket of willows, and murdered 
 the whole. My horses were speedily secured 
 and driven off out of sig-ht, and it is scarcely 
 necessary to say that any attempt at pursuit 
 under such circumstances had been in vain. 
 Such was the situation in which I found my 
 self, with property to the value of ten thousand 
 dollars ; and rather than the villains who had 
 so deeply injured me should reap any benefit 
 from it, I had the whole thrown into the river. 
 We then made a raft, and crossed over, when 
 we found the bodies of my unfortunate men so 
 mutilated as to be scarcely recognizable. We 
 consig-ned them also to the keeping- of the 
 deep, for as you well know, not even the dead 
 are respected by the wild tribes of these parts/' 
 
14 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 The details of their now melancholy journey 
 till their arrival at St. Gabriel, a Spanish mis 
 sion in California, need not he repeated. Be 
 ing- unsuccessful in his errand, owing 1 to the 
 deficiency of his property and the mistrust 
 with which the Spaniards viewed him as the 
 first American who had penetrated to their 
 settlement hy land ; Mr. Smith now resolved 
 on proceeding 1 to our depot on the Columbia, 
 which is 'known as Fort Vancouver. The 
 Spaniards, I may remark, had subjected him 
 to a brief confinement in prison, but being* li 
 berated through the influence of an American 
 captain, whose ship was in the vicinity, he 
 left St. Gabriel with the purpose I have men 
 tioned. When within three days' journey of 
 his new destination, being arrived on the bor 
 ders of the river Umpqua,, he again expe 
 rienced a reverse a more dreadful one than 
 that already related. Here, then, I shall re 
 sume the narrative in his own words, and it 
 will hence appear by what a slender tenure 
 the trader holds his existence \ if he escapes 
 to return to his home, he may, indeed, thank 
 the Almighty alone for his preservation. 
 
INDIAN CHAKACTEK. 15 
 
 It is proper to observe that myself, as well 
 as several of our gentlemen, had on various 
 occasions visited the village where the first 
 treason occurred, (but ) then (we) were at all 
 times strictly on our guard. The natives, too, 
 were sometimes in the habit of resorting to 
 Vancouver to trade, and were well acquainted 
 with us. They soon, however, discovered poor 
 Smith's party to be strangers, and determined 
 to take advantage of the misplaced confi 
 dence he seems to have reposed in their mild 
 and peaceable disposition. 
 
 " Finding myself among Indians/' he says, 
 "whom, from their possessing many articles 
 of European merchandize, and frequently 
 naming you and several other gentlemen, I 
 began to consider no longer as enemies, I 
 relaxed my usual vigilance. Having pro 
 longed my stay for two days, to recruit the 
 worn-down animals I had purchased at St. 
 Gabriel, on the third morning I directed Mr. 
 Rogers, my assistant, to have everything* in 
 readiness, desiring the men also to clean their 
 rifles, preparatory to a start on the morrow. 
 I then, accompanied by two men, embarked in 
 
16 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 a canoe, and proceeded in search of a suitable 
 crossing-place, the banks opposite our encamp 
 ment being- too steep for the horses to sur 
 mount. On my return, after an absence of 
 three hours, when within half a mile of the 
 tents, I observed a number of Indians running 
 towards us along- the bank, yelling most fear 
 fully. Immediately suspecting what had hap 
 pened, we crossed over, and secreted ourselves 
 in the bushes, the Indians discharging their 
 guns at us without eifect. Anxious to ascer 
 tain the fate of my party, I then ascended an 
 eminence, from whence I could plainly per 
 ceive that the camp was destroyed, and not 
 a vestige of man, horse, or mule, to be seen. 
 
 " Though conscious that the wretches would 
 not dare to pursue us, in a country so thickly 
 wooded, I yet considered it to be most prudent 
 to be concealed during the day, and to travel 
 only under cover of the night. On the second 
 day we perceived some of the Company's ser 
 vants, who conducted us safely to Vancouver." 
 
 The day preceding Mr. Smith's arrival un 
 der these circumstances, one of his party 
 named John Black, who had escaped the 
 
INDIAN CHARACTER. 17 
 
 massacre at the camp, had also made his way 
 to Fort Vancouver, and preparations had at 
 once been commenced by the superintendent of 
 the Company's affairs, to ascertain the fate of 
 Mr. Smith and his two men. This party was 
 on the eve of setting- out, when the arrival of 
 the fugitives relieved us of that anxiety. 
 From Black we elicited the particulars of the 
 massacre in the following 1 words : " Soon 
 after Mr. Smith's departure, while some of 
 the men were cleaning- their rifles, some cook 
 ing-, and others trafficking- with the natives, 
 on a sudden the latter, in number exceeding- 
 two hundred, with dreadful shouts, rushed on 
 us, before any one was prepared for defence. 
 I," said the poor fellow, " escaped the g-eneral 
 fate, being- wounded and left for dead, but 
 recovering-, succeeded in effecting- my retreat 
 hither." 
 
 Thus fell eighteen men, far from their 
 homes, their relations and their friends. As 
 for the survivors, they met with every atten 
 tion from us which their destitute situation 
 demanded. Decisive measures were adopted 
 to recover Mr. Smith's property. All the 
 
 c 
 
18 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 furs, with most of the horses and mules, were 
 recovered and restored to their right owners, 
 who subsequently made them over to the 
 Company at a valuation rather exceeding- the 
 current price, which the agents of the Com 
 pany cheerfully offered to the adventurer, in 
 sympathy for his forlorn condition. I have 
 only to add that his losses and misfortunes 
 were insufficient to deter him from new enter 
 prises. With the persevering- spirit charac 
 teristic of his countrymen, he ag-ain entered 
 the field the next year, when his career was 
 closed as has already been related. 
 
 To return to my own situation. As I 
 have before remarked, I strongly suspected 
 that the Indians among* whom we now found 
 ourselves, were the same party who, the 
 year before, had cut off part of Mr. Smith's 
 men as first related. They appeared to be 
 bolder than any I had yet seen ; but on a 
 narrow scrutiny, I could perceive nothing to 
 confirm my suspicion of their identity. No 
 tracks of horses were seen, but this was a 
 circumstance readily accounted for by the 
 fact that the country was too barren to admit 
 
INDIAN CHAKACTER. 19 
 
 of their being 1 easily maintained. My men 
 were eager to revenge the massacre upon 
 them 5 but as I had no proof that these were 
 the guilty persons, I withheld my consent to 
 their entreaties. 
 
 That punishment, however, which I was 
 slow to inflict on them for past deeds, of which 
 they were doubtless guilty, they shortly drew 
 upon themselves by present misconduct. On 
 the day following our appearance among 
 them, they swarmed about the camp, every 
 man carrying, in addition to his proper arms, 
 a long stick on his shoulder, in derision of the 
 manner in which we carry our guns. Ob 
 serving the greatness of their numbers, I 
 took the precaution of posting an extra 
 guard over our horses, and warned the 
 men to hold themselves in readiness for the 
 worst. Besides their usual fire-arms, I fur 
 nished each of our little party with a spear ^ 
 giving orders not to reload after the first 
 volley, but to charge ; for I was apprehensive 
 lest, during the interval of loading, the Indians 
 might make a rush, and overpower us ; and 
 that a speedy attack was meditated, I could 
 
20 TKAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 no longer doubt. Our preparations com 
 pleted, I admitted a few Indians into the camp, 
 purposely that they might observe our state 
 of defence, and with the hope that it might 
 deter them from attacking us. Unhappily 
 for them, the desired effect was not produced, 
 for presently one of the guard was wounded, 
 and the alarm given that the Indians were 
 securing our horses. This was sufficient for 
 me. They had shed the first Wood, and I 
 was resolved that theirs should repay it* and 
 as it was now for life or death with us, I 
 ordered a general discharge, to he followed 
 up by a charge with the spear. The first, 
 however, sufficed ; for on seeing the number 
 of their fellows who in a single moment were 
 made to lick the dust, the rest ingloriously 
 fled, and we saw no more of them. Twenty- 
 six remained dead on the field. 
 
 It would be inconsistent with my object to 
 continue the narrative of the expedition, and 
 our other travelling adventures in this region. 
 It is not my purpose to write a book of 
 adventure, but to illustrate, as far as my ac 
 quaintance with circumstances may enable 
 
INDIAN CHAEACTEE. 21 
 
 me, and from various points of view, the 
 
 character of the Indian tribes. The little 
 
 I 
 
 I have advanced, from rny own experience, 
 may suffice to show that they do not possess 
 the fine qualities attributed to them in recent 
 publications, and the following 1 sketches will 
 make both their better and their worse cha 
 racteristics still more manifest. If any one 
 be sceptical, after all, in regard to the latter 
 I can only say, that it would be easy to 
 multiply instances of the most atrocious and 
 unprovoked cruelty practised by the Indians 
 against those engaged in the fur trade. It 
 is enough to hint at the sad fate of Living*- 
 ston, Henry, Hughes, Millar, Jones, Kennet, 
 Smith, McKenzie, and Corrigal, chiefly officers 
 of the service, besides nearly three hundred 
 and fifty men, Americans and servants of 
 the Company in nearly equal proportions, 
 who have fallen victims within the last twenty 
 years. 
 
22 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE KED FEATHER, FLATHEAD CHIEF. 
 
 IN the year 182 3, I was appointed to the 
 command of an expedition, destined to operate 
 southward of the Columbia, where heaver were 
 known to abound, which, down to that period, 
 had never heen molested by the hand of civi 
 lized man. (Accordingly, during* the six suc 
 ceeding* years, I was employed in the perilous 
 and disagreeable duty involved in this adven 
 tured Our party usually numbered thirty 
 men, chiefly fur-trappers, the whole well- 
 armed and mounted, besides each possessing- 
 a relay of thirty horses, applicable to the 
 pack or the riding--saddle, as necessity re 
 quired. Danger is an excellent disciplinarian, 
 and since each of my followers, viewing- the 
 
THE RED FEATHER. 23 
 
 case through that medium, saw the necessity 
 of strict attention to his leader's orders, I 
 had the less difficulty in enforcing- the system 
 of precaution I have already mentioned as 
 indispensable to the common safety; and by 
 attention to which many tracts of country 
 were passed over with impunity, which other 
 wise it would have been rash to adventure 
 upon. The systematic order of our pro 
 ceedings possessed the double advantage of 
 enabling us to cope successfully with our 
 foes, and to associate in confidence, when 
 circumstances rendered it expedient to do so, 
 with those whom we regarded as friends, at 
 least for the time being. 
 
 On one occasion, being desirous of pene 
 trating a tract of country more than usually 
 infested by the marauders we had to dread, 
 I joined company with the camp of the Flat- 
 head nation, at that period proceeding on their 
 annual visit to the buffalo-grounds. At this 
 time, their camp consisted in all of two hun 
 dred lodges, but it was anciently much more 
 numerous ; war, in which they were conti 
 nually engaged, having, within a few years, 
 
24 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 thinned off the flower of the young 1 men, and 
 given a preponderance to the enemy's force 
 which told sadly to their disadvantage. A 
 short digression must here be permitted me 
 by way of explaining 1 their present position to 
 the indulg-ent reader. 
 
 Residing- on the head waters of a stream 
 tributary to the Columbia, they had been 
 accustomed, from time immemorial, to resort 
 to the grounds southward of their own in 
 quest of buffalo j from the chase of which 
 they derived their chief subsistence. In the 
 prosecution of these annual excursions they 
 had invariably met with much opposition and 
 unprovoked molestation from the Blackfeet, 
 a roving- horde of real Ishmaelites, " their 
 hand against every one, and every one's hand 
 ag'ainst them." Under ordinary circumstances, 
 the bravery and chivalrous address of the poor 
 Flatheads had enabled them to resent the 
 insults of their opponents, and to repel their 
 unprovoked attacks; but, unhappily, a few 
 years anterior to the period of which I am 
 writing-, a fatal advantag-e obtained by the 
 Blackfeet at length destroyed the balance of 
 
THE BED FEATHER. 25 
 
 power, and told with murderous effect against 
 the former. This was the acquisition of fire 
 arms ; which implement of warfare the former 
 obtained by traffic, through their proximity 
 to the American frontiers, long* before the 
 more secluded Flatheads were acquainted with 
 its use, save in its deadly effect upon the ranks 
 of their most valued warriors. More recently, 
 however, their intercourse with the Columbia 
 traders had furnished the weaker party with 
 the means of repelling the attacks of their 
 oppressors, but not before their numbers had 
 been reduced, through the causes alluded to, 
 far beneath that of the rivals. Under these 
 circumstances, they had made a compact with 
 a small adjacent sept, called the Cootanys or 
 Kootanais, and for mutual protection the allies 
 proceeded to their hunting-grounds in com 
 pany their united numbers, but still more 
 their remarkable bravery and address, now 
 rendering them more than a match for their 
 overbearing opponents. 
 
 Our march was conducted with much re 
 gularity 5 all the arrangements being over 
 looked by the camp chief^ known among us by 
 
26 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the appellation of " Cut Thumb." In order to 
 assure our party as much as possible ag-ainst 
 the ordinary risks of the way, a position was 
 allotted to us in the midst of the whole band, 
 and which, whether in the march or when 
 encamped, we invariably occupied. In this 
 manner we journeyed for ten or fifteen days, 
 occasionally meeting- with a few stray buffalo, 
 but experiencing- no molestation on any hand, 
 nor indeed seeing- the vestig-e of an enemy. 
 But as at sea, the calmest weather when it 
 precedes a storm is the more to be dreaded, 
 since the mariner is thereby lulled into treache 
 rous security ; so in these prairies, an unusual 
 interval of peace but too frequently augurs a 
 speedy reverse of fortune. Thus did it prove 
 in our case. Rendered careless by the seem 
 ing- absence of dang-er, the Indians frequently 
 neglected tjie ordinary precautions necessary 
 to secure ag-ainst surprise or robbery. Their 
 horses were left untethered and ung-uarded, 
 and their proceeding's, generally, marked by 
 a sense of the most careless, yet most un 
 warranted security. 
 
 For my own part, I maintained the usual 
 
THE RED FEATHER. 27 
 
 discipline among my men, and soon had rea 
 son to congratulate myself in not having 
 yielded to the lazy example of our Indian 
 companions ; for one morning 1 it was found 
 that a large number of horses had been stolen 
 during- the night, whose owners had now to 
 lament the imprudence into which they had 
 been tempted. Fulfilling 1 the old proverb of 
 "shutting- the stable -door after the steed is 
 stolen/' every precautionary measure was now 
 adopted, when no long-er of any avail : scouts 
 scoured the country on all sides; whoops, 
 shouts, maddening yells of rag-e and disap 
 pointment resounded through the camp ; all 
 which gave way to soberer counsel when the 
 result of the reconnoissance was made known 
 by those deputed to that duty. Every con 
 current circumstance pointed to their inveterate 
 enemies, the Blackfeet Indians, as the authors 
 of this outrage. It was also ascertained that 
 the course of their retreat was due west, and 
 that they were in all probability a detachment 
 from an extensive camp whose fires were dis 
 covered in a valley some twenty miles distant. 
 Such was the position of affairs : council 
 
28 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 upon council was held, and my opinion con 
 sulted every hour of the day to settle some 
 knotty point in the discussion, while I, like a 
 skilful general, usually contrived by the wording* 
 of my decisions to avoid committing* myself in 
 the estimation of either party affected by them. 
 To be brief, the final issue of all the arguments 
 adduced was this ; that the horses were stolen, 
 the thieves were at hand, and that at all risks 
 reprisals must be made. A party of young" 
 men speedily assembled, in anticipation of the 
 adventure, but this was not definitively ar 
 ranged, since one of the principal personages 
 of the camp had remained as yet a silent but 
 not unobservant spectator of what was passing-, 
 and without his sanction no enterprise of this 
 nature could with propriety be undertaken. 
 This seeming- apathetic, thoug*h influential 
 member of the band was the " Red Feather/' 
 so called from the distinctive badg-e he at all 
 times wore to indicate the dig-nity to which by 
 common acclamation he had been elected. His 
 colleag-ue the " Cut Thumb" was camp chief, 
 and had attained the supreme dig-nity throug-h 
 his acknowledged wisdom in the affairs of 
 
THE BED FEATHEE. 29 
 
 every day life. The " Eed Feather' 7 was 
 leader of the warriors, and had received his 
 chivalrous appointment in consideration of 
 his extraordinary prowess in the field, and the 
 address he exhibited in all that related to mar 
 tial concerns. The haughty and reserved 
 demeanour he usually assumed was well cal 
 culated to impress his companions with a lofty 
 opinion of his character while his suavity of 
 manner when addressed, tended to secure for 
 him their regard and esteem. Bold and fear 
 less, he was at the same time prudent and skil 
 ful heyond any Indian who roved the prairies : 
 his renown was spread far and wide j and 
 among- all the Flathead warriors there was 
 not one whose name resounded so frequently 
 in the Blackfeet camp, when the lamentations 
 of the bereaved told of valued racers disap 
 peared, or the wail of widows gave signal of 
 deeds of death. Tall, well-shaped, and mus 
 cular, his person exhibited every characteristic 
 of strength and activity; while his features 
 were marked by well-cut, expressive outlines, 
 which would have distinguished him to the 
 most casual observer as a man of character 
 
30 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 and ability. Such in outward seeming 1 was 
 the " Bed Feather/' towards whom at this cri 
 tical period, every eye was turned in expecta 
 tion of counsel. 
 
 When at length his long--deferred judgment 
 was delivered, the hasty preparations that had 
 heen undertaken on the spur of the moment 
 were rendered void, since all immediate re 
 taliation was discountenanced by the old war 
 rior. "Peace for awhile/' said he; "let us 
 not be hasty : the Blackfeet are even now on 
 their g'uard against our enterprises; and would 
 frustrate them. Let us send the pipe of peace 
 towards theni; and meet them as friends : time 
 rolls on; and we shall yet be quits with them 
 before the grass is withered on the prairie." 
 
 The advice was acted upon : after an inter 
 change of messag-eS; a grand meeting- was 
 agreed to, and the spot of the conference fixed. 
 It was a level part of the plain, bordering- on a 
 small stream that meandered lazily throug-h 
 the boundless expanse of the surrounding- 
 prairies. A few willows skirted the brook in 
 some favoured spots, but in g-eneral the arid 
 banks produced but the coarse prairie grass ; 
 
THE BED FEATHEE. 31 
 
 diversified in certain low bottoms, where the 
 moisture of the brook soaked through the soil, 
 by patches of wild vetch, and rank thickets of 
 hemlock a baneful weed which thrives won- 
 drously in these sequestered regions. 
 
 Repairing hither at the appointed time, we 
 found the Blackfeet already posted to receive us ; 
 and after a due allowance of ceremonial prepa 
 rations, we proceeded to the business of the day, 
 with all the consequence and sincerity of prac 
 tised diplomatists. At the head of the Plat- 
 head party, by virtue of his dignity of peace- 
 chief, rode our notable leader the "Cut 
 Thumb," attended by the pipe -bearer and 
 a varlet of no small importance in his own 
 esteem, who carried the bag of medicine. The 
 "Bed Feather" and myself followed close 
 behind, representing the native prowess and 
 allied strength of the clan; while the rear 
 was brought up by a gallant cavalcade of 
 warriors, who fretted their steeds with knee 
 and bridle, making them caracole as they rode 
 along, in order to show off their skill in the 
 menage. The cavaliers of the opposite party 
 were not a whit inferior to them in these 
 
32 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 knightly accomplishments, and bestrode their 
 ill-gotten animals with an air of the most con 
 summate self-possession. 
 
 To the imposing- display of these first ap 
 proaches to each other, succeeded the pipe of 
 peace, and other affectations of friendship all 
 which being- happily ended, the assembly was 
 repeatedly harang-ued by the orators on both 
 sides, who, if they wanted the euphonical 
 polish of a Cicero, mig-ht have vied with De 
 mosthenes in the energ-etic vigour of their lan 
 guage. On the part of the Flatheads, a re 
 capitulation of grievances from time immemo 
 rial opened the discussion : this was met by an 
 argument having much the same tendency, 
 and yet more point, in behalf of the opposite 
 faction. "You complain," said they, "that 
 we have stolen your horses ! While you are 
 speaking the blood of our young men whom 
 you have slain is yet warm their scalps are 
 not dry that you took from us. You say that 
 in days past, before your white fathers gave 
 you guns, we killed many of you ! has not 
 your revenge been complete ? Only last year 
 twenty of our warriors were cut off as with 
 
THE RED FEATHER. 33 
 
 fire ; three of their scalps even now decorate 
 the ' Red Feather/ who stands before us. 
 You, ( Cut Thumb/ you you who now accuse 
 us of injuring- the Flatheads with your spells 
 and incantations have cast sickness into our 
 camp : our children gasp for breath, our very 
 horses are less fleet than was their wont, solely 
 owing- to your strong- medicines, and the viru 
 lence of your hatred towards us. As for the 
 horses you have lost, the Shoshonies must 
 have taken them ; not one has entered our 
 camp : our young- men are low spirited and 
 are become as women how then could they 
 have done so bold an action ? " In this strain 
 of mutual recrimination and defence the parley 
 was carried on to the end ; both parties pre 
 tending- to believe implicitly the expressions 
 of g-ood will and peaceful intentions lavishly 
 poured forth, yet each inwardly chuckling- at 
 the other's credulity. A hollow peace was 
 eventually patched up by these punic diploma 
 tists, and the two camps separating-, went 
 afterwards each on its way, in the direction 
 where they expected to find buffalo. 
 
 Three days afterwards the C( Eed Feather " 
 
 D 
 
34 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 came to my tent. " To-day I go for horses/' 
 said he : fc the Blackfeet are unsuspicious ; my 
 young* men have seen their camp ; their horses 
 are unwatched. The Black/' added he, al 
 luding- to one which had attracted my atten 
 tion from the symmetry of its shape "the 
 Black must be mine at all risks." Attended 
 by two of his followers, he went off the same 
 nig-ht, not as usual on horseback, but on foot, 
 each of the party carrying a small supply of 
 dried meat, and a toug-h lasso that sufficiently 
 declared the nature of their mission. 
 
 Meanwhile we had fallen upon buffalo. Im 
 mense herds of these uncouth beasts rang-ed 
 over the prairie, which was intersected in 
 every direction by the deeply-worn paths of 
 their periodical migrations. The grand busi 
 ness of the year now commenced in g-ood ear 
 nest : the hunters prepared their trained racers 
 for the duties of the chase ; everything- was put 
 in readiness ; but no man ventured to leave the 
 precincts of the camp. At leng-th the chief, 
 having 1 ascertained that all the preparations 
 were complete, g-ave the welcome sig-nal pro 
 claiming-, in a loud voice, that all were now at 
 
THE RED FEATHER. 35 
 
 liberty to depart, and adding- such recom 
 mendations as seemed necessary for maintain 
 ing- order among- the multitude. Joy beamed 
 from every face ; the very horses seemed alive 
 to the excitement of the occasion and as 
 they drew near the buffalo, could with diffi 
 culty be restrained. The whole cavalcade, 
 consisting- of some three hundred horsemen, 
 were shortly eng*ag*ed indiscriminately in the 
 herd. 
 
 At first the poor victims stood eyeing- their 
 approaching- enemies; then, as if mistrusting- 
 the nature of their intentions, they began to 
 move slowly off in a body j their sullen walk 
 soon changing- to an awkward g"allop, and as 
 their rear and flanks became more and more 
 pressed by their pursuers, ending- in a g-eneral 
 rout. Now was the crisis of the chase, and 
 the hunter's opportunity, when he showed his 
 skill, not to mention his g-ood taste, by selecting- 
 the fattest animals as they scuttled over the 
 plain. Shot after shot resounded in every direc 
 tion ; while the scarcely less fatal arrow did its 
 share in the g-eneral work of destruction, only 
 more silently. The horses, trained to the task, 
 
36 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 seemed as if intuitively acquainted with what 
 was required of them ; keeping- even pace with 
 the selected animal, and preserving*, at all 
 times, a distance of several paces from its 
 side ] watching' pointedly its every motion, and 
 lig-htly springing- away whenever it would 
 g-ore them, as if anticipating- its intentions 
 even before they were put in practice. 
 
 Several hundred animals lay scattered in 
 every direction around us. In the distance 
 the retreating- herds were rushing- wildly over 
 the plain, sometimes enveloped in dust, then 
 emerging* from the cloud and becoming- ag-ain 
 visible as the flickering- wind shifted athwart, 
 or in the line of their course. Here and there 
 a scattered horseman, more eag-er or better 
 mounted than the rest, still pursued the flying- 
 bands ; while a dropping- shot, from time to 
 time, sounded the knell of another victim. The 
 hunters began to congreg-ate, and the division 
 of the p:-ey alone was wanting- to finish the 
 day's proceeding's. Suddenly a cloud of dust 
 appeared on the horizon, in the direction of 
 our preceding- day's march. All eyes were 
 strained to discover the cause. There were 
 
THE BED FEATHER. 37 
 
 no buffalo in that quarter to account for the 
 commotion j but all conjecture was soon put at 
 rest: the peculiar cry with which the Indian 
 jockeys urg-e on a band of horses, maddening' 
 them by some strang-e sympathy beyond con 
 ception, was I eard from time to time, repeated 
 with growing* distinctness as the excited horses 
 approached j a yell of welcome broke forth, 
 when at length a numerous band became dis 
 coverable, driven by three mounted Indians, 
 who were soon recognized as the (C Red 
 Feather" and his two daring 1 associates. As 
 they drew near it mig-ht be seen that the 
 horses were well-nigh exhausted j the foam, 
 trickling- down their quivering- flanks, mingled 
 with the accumulated dust, and completely 
 disg-uised their exterior features. Anon they 
 would slacken their pace, and seek momentary 
 relief by snatching- languidly at the tufts of 
 grass around them ; but the shrill and piercing 
 whoop, whose strangely discordant modulation 
 it were vain to endeavour to express, or even 
 to imitate, would again set them oif with re 
 doubled energy, its strang-e unearthly sound 
 seeming 1 to act like enchantment upon the 
 
38 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 muscular frames of the animals, through its 
 influence over the inward faculties. What the 
 cause of this peculiar sympathy between man 
 and beast may be, or what connection between 
 the cry in question and the extraordinary 
 effect produced by it, is not in my power 
 to determine \ but the fact is too commonly 
 known, and too well authenticated to admit 
 of doubt. In this instance I was deeply struck 
 by the singular infatuation of the poor jaded 
 brutes. Wearied to exhaustion, they yet 
 seemed to rise superior to all bodily weakness, 
 as soon as they heard the cry of their perse 
 cutors in the rear. On they rushed; death, 
 destruction mig-ht be before them j fire, or a 
 precipice, might intercept their path; but it 
 seemed as if no obstacle could for a moment 
 check their progTess while under this strange 
 spell. 
 
 Arriving at the camp, the " Eed Feather " 
 and his two associates dismounted at a bound, 
 slipped the cords in an instant out of their 
 horses' mouths, and turning them loose, ut 
 tered a loud whew of complacency, finishing 
 with a hearty laugh at the success of their 
 
THE BED FEATHEK. 39 
 
 exploit. After their hunger had been ap 
 peased with a supply of boiled meat propor 
 tionate to their long* fast, served to them in 
 the principal lodge, the endless pipe was 
 lighted, and they recounted the hazards they 
 had undergone ; to which, though one would 
 have supposed some of the incidents not to be 
 over agreeable, they invariably gave a ludi 
 crous or jocund turn. Their delighted audi 
 ence listened with infinite relish to the story 
 of this adventure; the braves relating how 
 they had overheard the luckless Blackfeet 
 boasting in their camp, and chuckling over 
 their fancied security. " But/ 7 said the " Red 
 Feather," in conclusion, and in a tone of dis 
 appointment, ce the Black was left behind after 
 all. I visited in one night almost every tent 
 in the camp ; for he was not loose with the 
 band. I crept on my belly among the horses' 
 feet, and sought and sought to no purpose. At 
 length I found him. He was tied, but not 
 tethered with a picket : his master held the 
 cord as he slept ; the day was breaking, or I 
 would have cut it." Then, warming again 
 with the remembrance of his successful foray, 
 
40 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the chivalrous rogue declared that he would 
 yet bestride the g-allant black steed. 
 
 A month had elapsed since the events I 
 have narrated. Our camp had for a time 
 been stationary in a position not far from the 
 scene of the " Red Feather's " exploit. My own 
 movements, however, had not been restrained 
 by the inactivity of my Indian allies. Accom 
 panied by my party, whom I considered strong- 
 enoug-h to resist any open attack, and suffi 
 ciently disciplined to run little dang'er of being- 
 reduced or pillag-ed by stratagem, I had 
 made a distant excursion in quest of beaver; 
 roving- about among- the small brooks which 
 intersect the country and communicate with 
 the larg-er streams by which the waters are 
 carried towards the south branch (Lewis and 
 Clarke's), and thence to the Columbia. Suc 
 cess had attended our endeavours in a sig-nal 
 degree; and desirous of acquiring- additional 
 information concerning- the neighbourhood, be 
 fore finally separating- from the native camp, 
 and shaping- my course southward, 1 ! was at 
 present allowing- a few days' repose to our 
 wearied horses. As for the Indians, they were 
 
THE RED FEATHEE. 41 
 
 mostly employed in the grave operations of 
 the preserved meat and leather business, for 
 which the capital in hand had heen found by 
 the poor buffalo. Scaffolds surrounded the 
 camp in all directions, garnished with jerked 
 meat, undergoing- the process of desiccation; 
 partly effected by the sun's rays, arid partly 
 by the smouldering 1 fires maintained beneath. 
 Elsewhere might be seen large frames fash 
 ioned of poles tied tog-ether, upon which the 
 skins of the animals who had furnished these 
 supplies for many future banquets and merry 
 making's, were spread to dry, either in their 
 natural state, intended for covering's, or with 
 the hair detached, in preparation for cutting 1 
 into cords, or for other useful purposes. Every 
 where, I may here remark, only women were 
 visible in active employment; for upon them 
 the whole duty of the camp devolved, even to 
 the " hewing- of wood and drawing of water ; " 
 their lordly masters thinking- themselves quit 
 of all obligation by the slaughter of the ani 
 mals of the chase and the defence of their camp 
 against the invasion of their hereditary ene 
 mies the Blackfeet. At high noon, the " lords 
 
42 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of the creation" might be observed lazily 
 stretched out, sunning- themselves upon their 
 extended buffalo robes ; or idly visiting- the 
 precincts of the camp in quest of some fa 
 vourite charg-er. Here and there a young- 
 stripling- exercised a yearling- colt to the cord, 
 or was eng-aged in breaking'-in some refrac 
 tory member of his parent's teams to the bridle 
 or the burthen perhaps indulging- himself 
 with a gallop, barebacked, among- the lodges, 
 exhibiting- the paces of his steed with the in 
 tention of attracting- the g-aze of some tawny- 
 visag-ed damsel. Within the lodges, the men 
 were either napping- lazily as in the sunnier 
 spots outside, or still worse, wiling- away the 
 time with the excitement of g-ambling-. 
 
 This vicious propensity is the bane of savag-e 
 life j as it often proves of more civilized com 
 munities. Horses, grins, blankets, whatever 
 the poor Indian can call his own, is ruthlessly 
 sacrificed to this Moloch of human weakness. 
 
 The hour was noon, the scene such as I have 
 described. A listless enervation pervaded the 
 camp, occasioned by the extreme heat ; for it 
 was now midsummer. Groups of children 
 
THE BED FEATHER. 43 
 
 were amusing 1 themselves, as happier children 
 are wont to do, shaded under the mimic lodges 
 they had erected ; their noisy prattling alone 
 disturbing- the general stillness. I had been 
 some days expecting- the arrival of the " Red 
 Feather/' who was again off in quest of the 
 coveted Black so often mentioned. It was im 
 portant to my views that I should see the chief, 
 since his knowledge of a particular section of 
 the country qualified him in an eminent degree 
 to advise me on some points necessary to the 
 success of the expedition. My impatience in 
 creased daily, and I was anxiously looking 
 out for his arrival, when, at the time men 
 tioned, a cry was raised which betokened an 
 approaching party. 
 
 The whole camp was speedily on the out 
 look to discover the name and quality of their 
 visitors. At first, only a cloud of dust was 
 visible, but presently a single horseman, ap 
 proaching at a gallop, gave rise to additional 
 conjecture. When he drew near, the son-in- 
 law of " Red Feather " was recognized ; but 
 he uttered no cry : his horse was wearied to 
 the last extremity, scarcely could its tottering 
 
44 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 legs sustain the weight of the body as it 
 galloped painfully towards us. Portentous 
 tidings were doubtless on the eve of reaching 
 us ; not a voice was lifted to inquire their 
 tenor, as if every one intuitively anticipated 
 evil. In a few moments, the weary beast 
 came panting up to the lodges, and the tidings 
 of his rider were delivered in a few sad words ; 
 leaping hastily to the ground, he only said : 
 " e B,ed Feather 7 is no more, he is gone the 
 way of his fathers ! " Then arose the cry of 
 the fatherless and the widow ; the wail of the 
 companion and the friend. The silence that 
 had before prevailed was now contrasted by 
 the heart-rending* expressions of mourning" 
 uttered on all sides ; and the camp, lately so 
 listless and peaceable, resounded with one 
 general wail of grief and lamentation. 
 
 The death of the noble chief of the Flathead 
 warriors, according to the account of his sur 
 viving companion, was most tragical. The 
 adventurers had reached the precincts of the 
 Blackfeet camp unobserved, and after much 
 skilful manoeuvring had succeeded in se 
 curing the envied Black, together with the 
 
THE RED FEATHER. 45 
 
 horse on which the witness had reached his 
 own camp, as they were feeding- in open day 
 in a meadow close by the lodges. They had 
 scarcely time to mount their prizes when they 
 were discovered. Giving 1 rein to their steeds 
 they uttered a shout of defiance, and struck 
 in the direction of home, pursued after a short 
 interval by a numerous party of the enemy. 
 But they were safe from pursuit. They had, 
 as they knew, secured the two fleetest runners 
 of the band, and set at nought all the endea 
 vours of their pursuers to overtake them. 
 Prompted by the dictates of their fury, the 
 latter resorted to a common expedient to 
 wreak their vengeance. 
 
 The wind, which had till now been scarcely 
 perceptible, began to blow freshly from the 
 river. The " Red Feather," whose horse 
 showed not the least symptom of distress, 
 had reined him up and stopped for some 
 minutes as if in defiance of the enemy. 
 Suddenly the pursuing* party stopped, and 
 in a moment a bright blaze gave warn 
 ing to the " Red Feather" that no time 
 was to be lost; they had set fire to the 
 
46 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 plain. Driven by the fierce wind, the flame 
 advanced with surprising* speed : a broad strip 
 of marly soil destitute of all vegetation lay 
 before them, beyond which the fire could 
 not pass. To reach this was their only chance 
 of safety. The distance was easily accom 
 plished by the narrator, since he was close 
 to the margin when the flames arose; but 
 the " Red Feather" was less fortunate ; his 
 act of defiance cost him his life. When in 
 safety himself the Indian turned to ascertain 
 the progress of his father-in-law. He was 
 within a quarter of a mile of the desired 
 haven. The Black strove gallantly to reach 
 it, but all his efforts were useless ; the raging- 
 element^ fed with the dry grass, advanced 
 with the speed of an eagie. A short few 
 moments and all was over. The (C Red Fea 
 ther" lay a blackened corpse among- the 
 smoking- ashes, his g-allant steed beside him ! 
 Such was the melancholy end of the boldest 
 warrior of the Flat-head tribe, whose renown 
 yet lives among- the wild races to whom his 
 name was in days of yore familar. 
 
 Shortly after this melancholy event I 
 
THE RED FEATHEE. 47 
 
 separated from the brave and hospitable tribe 
 that it had plunged into mourning; and of 
 whom it is but due to remark, that of all 
 the tribes on the west side of the Rocky 
 Mountains they stand pre-eminently alone, 
 in not having shed the blood of a white 
 man. My journey to the Columbia was 
 effected in six weeks not, however, without 
 undergoing considerable anxiety and priva 
 tion; all which was soon forgotten in the 
 hearty welcome I received from my worthy 
 
 friend B , who shortly before had been 
 
 appointed to that station. 
 
48 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD AND THE 
 LIVING. 
 
 I ONCE witnessed a. strange occurrence, which, 
 after repeated inquiries, I find to be an iso 
 lated instance of what may excite perhaps no 
 little surprise the voluntary interment of a 
 living- Indian. Four other gentlemen were 
 present at this tragedy, for such it may truly 
 be called, and should this narrative ever meet 
 their eyes they will readily bear testimony to 
 its correctness. The circumstance gave occa 
 sion to many remarks at the time, more es 
 pecially among* ourselves, for we could with 
 difficulty conceive a human being possessing 
 so much perverted resolution as to sacrifice 
 himself in a manner so dreadful : but the facts 
 
BURIAL OF THE DEAD AND LIVING. 49 
 
 were obvious, and all surmises vanished before 
 them. 
 
 Suicides, indeed, are of such constant occur 
 rence among- civilized nations, as to excite 
 little comment, and the circumstances of the 
 crime are often of almost incredible horror. 
 It is well known that they are less frequent 
 among* savag-e tribes ; and if they are more 
 common among- some of these unfortunate peo 
 ple than others, it will g-enerally be found that 
 they are committed under some momentary 
 impulse of desperate excitement. Instances 
 of calm, resolute self-destruction, such as that 
 I am about to relate, are certainly of rare 
 occurrence. It is worthy of remark, also, 
 that the proportion of suicides among- the fe 
 males, far exceeds that of the males, the 
 causes for which I do not pretend to assig-n, 
 thoug-h they may reasonably be sought in 
 the cruel usag'e to which they are subject. 
 
 It was in the autumn of 1825, two days 
 after my arrival at Wallwalla, near the con 
 fluence of the north and south branches of the 
 Columbia, after an absence of eleven months. 
 I was enjoying- the long- disused luxury of a 
 
 E 
 
50 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 glass of wine, in company with Mr. D 
 
 and his companions, when a young Indian 
 entered, and requested the presence of the 
 former gentleman at his tent. The visit was 
 rather a long* one, and on his return, Mr. 
 
 D informed us that the "Eagle," a chief 
 
 of this place, had lost a son, who had just 
 breathed his last. This was the second of his 
 children who had died within a few months, 
 and the bereaved father appeared to be in a 
 very desponding state in consequence. His 
 wife, however, was still alive, and there like 
 wise remained two married daughters to com- 
 
 o 
 
 fort his declining days. Riches, too, were his, 
 if these could have afforded him any consolation; 
 for, possessing more than a hundred horses, 
 he ranked among the opulent of the tribe. 
 Unhappily, notwithstanding all that yet re 
 mained to him, life had lost its charm. All 
 his hopes and all his desires had been centred 
 in his departed sons his only stay in the 
 decline of life for whose sakes any sacrifice 
 would have been endured, and for whose pre 
 mature fate no mourning in his eyes seemed 
 sufficient. 
 
BURIAL OF THE DEAD AND LIVING. 51 
 
 The interment of the corpse was appointed 
 to take place on the following* day; but the 
 deceased not being* one of our number, no 
 impression was made on us by the announce 
 ment. Far otherwise had it been one of our 
 own companions in adventure ; for the death 
 of a friend in these savag'e wilds has generally 
 a deep and lasting- effect on his fellow-so- 
 journers \ and although it be the common lot 
 of humanity, yet the idea of dying* in this 
 country, without, perhaps, one loved heart to 
 soothe the dying* moments, and without the 
 participation in that holy rite which re-assures 
 us of mercy hereafter, is indeed a melancholy 
 prospect. 
 
 Such were the circumstances, under which 
 one of those assembled on this occasion, poor 
 
 D , some years afterwards yielded up his 
 
 breath. He was a g*ood-hearted, generous 
 fellow, and much respected by all who knew 
 him. Our school days had been passed together, 
 and the friendship then contracted, increased 
 instead of diminishing- with increasing* years. 
 Poor fellow ! Little did he or I then anti 
 cipate so early a termination to his earthly 
 
52 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 career, which he fulfilled in a manner alike 
 honourable to his head and his heart. 
 
 D was invited to attend the burial, 
 
 and being- the commandant of the establish 
 ment, could not with propriety refuse showing- 
 this mark of respect to the family of the chief. 
 The invitation was likewise extended to the 
 other gentlemen and myself, for whom the 
 same inducement did not exist, so that, in 
 short, we felt disposed to decline. Yielding- to 
 the persuasion of D , however, we accom 
 panied him, and, as the event turned out, I 
 was not sorry we did so. The scene we wit 
 nessed was unparalleled in my experience, and 
 though horrifying in the extreme, it was yet, 
 from its very strang-eness, of absorbing- in 
 terest. 
 
 The grave was dug- on a small eminence, 
 some furlongs distant from the fort. On reach 
 ing* the spot we found an immense concourse of 
 natives assembled, among- whom the father and 
 family of the deceased were conspicuous. The 
 former stood on the brink of the grave, in a de 
 sponding 1 mood; and though he permitted no 
 outward symptom of grief to appear, it was 
 
BUKIAL OP THE DEAD AND LIVING. 53 
 
 yet evident to all that a mighty and continued 
 effort alone kept it in restraint. He appeared 
 to be about fifty years of age, and his form and 
 features, though stern and swarthy, offered a 
 model of manly beauty. The mother and her 
 daughters were loud in their expressions of 
 grief ] but that of the father, from its very 
 calmness, was the more terrible, and I could 
 not but sympathize with feelings so obviously 
 acute. 
 
 The weeping and wailing of the assembled 
 friends were the only sounds to be heard, and 
 for a long while the business for which they 
 were assembled was suspended, as if no one 
 was willing to impose the last trial of their 
 hearts upon the bereaved parents. At length 
 the father gave a stern order that the body 
 should be deposited in the grave ; a mandate 
 which was reluctantly obeyed by her who had 
 equal cause to mourn their great loss. The 
 old man then commanded silence, and in a 
 resolute tone of voice began to address the 
 assembled multitude. Having called atten 
 tion to the different events of his life, as con 
 nected with the rank he occupied, he proceeded 
 
54 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 to remind them always addressing- himself to 
 
 Mr. D , of the domestic afflictions he had 
 
 endured, concluding- with the recent death of 
 his eldest and most beloved son, whose corpse 
 was now before us. " And now/' said he, 
 "the string- of my bow is broken, the last 
 hope of my declining* days has forsaken me. 
 Seek not to dissuade me from the resolution I 
 ha.ve adopted^ for I am resolved upon follow 
 ing- him, and all you can urg-e will be in vain ; 
 life has no longer any charm for me. I was 
 once a hunter, but am now no long-er so; I 
 was once the proud father of two noble sons ; 
 but, alas ! where are they ? I was once a 
 warrior, but am no longer so. Wherefore 
 shall I continue to cumber this earth with my 
 useless presence V 
 
 The silence that now prevailed was so deep 
 that not even a breath was audible. The old 
 man folded his blanket around him, cast one 
 farewell look on the fair fields and the broad- 
 rolling* river in the vicinity ; and then, to the 
 surprise of all present, descended composedly 
 into the pit, and laid himself upon the corpse 
 of his departed son. " Throw in the earth, 
 
BURIAL OF THE DEAD AND LIVING. 55 
 
 fill up the grave, cover up my last earthly 
 residence/' exclaimed he. " Nay, do not hesi 
 tate, for I am resolved to die." Screams of 
 agony arose from his afflicted wife and daugh 
 ters vehement expostulations were resorted to 
 by all around ; but the old chief remained 
 firm. Not the, tenderest entreaties of those 
 who were dearest to him among the living 
 not the eager representations of his friends, 
 backed by the usually influential voice of 
 D , could, for an instant, shake the re 
 solve of the self-devoted victim. " I will die!" 
 said he ; ec seek no longer to prevent it ; I 
 repeat it, I will die!" 
 
 When it was found that all expostulations 
 and entreaties were in vain, the friends held 
 a clamorous council among* themselves, which 
 resulted in a decision to obey the will of the 
 chief. When he saw that his wish would be 
 complied with, he again spoke, and gave 
 directions for the disposal of his property : his 
 horses were ordered to be divided among his 
 relations, ten of the finest being first given to 
 
 Mr. D , who was looked upon by the 
 
 Indians as an adopted father. 
 
56 TKAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 Meanwhile I had advanced to the brink of 
 the grave, in order to observe narrowly the 
 countenance of the old man. I could perceive 
 no symptoms of weakness. The same stern 
 calmness which was at first perceptible, still 
 continued to characterize it, and as the clods 
 of earth began to shower down upon him, still 
 not a muscle relaxed. In the midst of the 
 most fearful bowlings and lamentations were 
 the horrid obsequies performed ; tl\e clay and 
 the sand being- filled in, the green sod was at 
 length carefully arranged over the small spot 
 which marked the last resting-place of the 
 living and the dead. 
 
 Agreeably to the last request of the "Eag-le," 
 
 Mr. D caused a flag to be placed over 
 
 his grave, the tattered remnants of which still 
 
 o / 
 
 fluttered in the breeze when I last visited the 
 spot j serving to indicate to the passer-by the 
 scene of the horrid though voluntary sacrifice 
 I have related. 
 
AN INDIAN FESTIVAL. 57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AN INDIAN FESTIVAL. 
 
 Six years ago, being- the spring- of 1832, I 
 was stationed on the north - west coast of 
 America, at the recently -formed settlement of 
 Fort Simpson, at the mouth of the Nass 
 River. This establishment was the only one 
 as yet maintained there, and its erection was 
 so recent, that our knowledge of the savag-e 
 tribes in the midst of whom we were settled, 
 was very scanty. At this particular season, 
 the natives from all quarters are in the habit 
 of assembling- on the shores of the Nass, for 
 the purpose of obtaining- a supply of small 
 fish, of delicate flavour, termed Olich on, which 
 resort to this stream in innumerable shoals to 
 spawn, and afford active employment during- 
 
58 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the brief season they remain, to the native 
 fishermen. 
 
 Although at all times most guarded to avoid 
 any surprise from our rude neighbours, the 
 overpowering numbers thus congregated from 
 all quarters in our immediate vicinity, gave an 
 additional spur to our vigilance ; and the need 
 of watchfulness will be apparent, when I add 
 that the whole garrison, including myself and 
 the other officers, did not exceed twenty men. 
 With this insignificant force it became us to 
 exercise unremitted attention, and certainly 
 every one g'ave himself to the harassing task 
 with a zeal which the occasion fully de 
 manded. 
 
 One morning in April, I observed, and re 
 marked to one of the gentlemen, that the 
 natives were assembling in unusual force im 
 mediately in front of the gates, and we both 
 agreed that it had a suspicious appearance. 
 We remained in suspense for some minutes, 
 when one of the principal chiefs came to our 
 little fortress, demanding admission, as he had 
 something of importance to impart to me. 
 The formal manner in which this request was 
 
AN INDIAN FESTIVAL. 59 
 
 made increased instead of diminishing- my anx 
 ious curiosity. He was ushered into my 
 room of state, a chamber set apart expressly 
 for the reception of the great men of the land. 
 I observed that he took the precaution of 
 closing* the doors, and though I was under no 
 apprehension of present danger to myself, the 
 stranger being- completely in my power, I 
 nevertheless, and very naturally, felt some 
 misgiving-s as to the purpose of a morning- call 
 attended with so much formality. 
 
 Being- seated, the chief remained some time 
 in silence, and then, as if moved by the spirit, 
 commenced as follows : " Great Chief of the 
 Whites, you are too vigilant not to have ob 
 served an unusual concourse of my young- 
 men in front of your fort ; they are there by 
 my orders, and without evil design. It is my 
 intention to give a great feast. We are come 
 here to make preparations for it, and I require 
 your assistance." 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that such a 
 solution of the mystery was very much to my 
 satisfaction, and that I cheerfully complied 
 with the request of the grand steward of the 
 
CO TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 forthcoming* banquet. Canoes continued going* 
 and coming* every day and hour, all freighted 
 with cargoes of dingy savages. For ten mortal 
 days, not a moment of tranquillity was experi 
 enced ; the concourse of Indians at last assem 
 bled on the ground exceeding, on the most 
 moderate calculation, 1,500 souls. The pre 
 parations for the feast were of course on a 
 proportionately grand scale at least as far as 
 labour and expense were concerned. A lot of 
 deals, recently received, amounting to about a 
 thousand, were put in requisition, and employed 
 by the natives to erect a temporary shed for 
 the accommodation of the guests ; while other 
 articles necessary to their operations were bor 
 rowed, as wanted, from us. 
 
 Our vigilance, it may be imagined, did not 
 abate under these circumstances, of the since 
 rity of which we had no guarantee. We 
 had property in our warehouse to a larg*e 
 amount, offering a great temptation to their 
 cupidity, and, indeed, other considerations 
 apart, had no inclination to put their for 
 bearance to the test, or to submit ourselves 
 to their tender mercies. The two gentlemen 
 
AN INDIAN FESTIVAL. 61 
 
 who were with me merited, however, all my 
 confidence, and this relieved my mind of a 
 great load of anxiety. Truly may it be said, 
 that Indian traders experience severe trials 
 in the course of their duty ; not to mention 
 the privations which they cheerfully undergo. 
 Alas ! that many who look forward for the 
 reward of tranquillity and repose at last do so, 
 too often in vain, frequently cursing- the day 
 they ever left their homes to pass their lives 
 among* Indians. 
 
 At length, all the great preliminaries being- 
 finished, the hour was at hand when the affair 
 was to "come off." On the eleventh day, 
 shortly after sunrise, two Indians carrying- 
 a long- pole, at the end of which were sus 
 pended feathers of the bald-headed eag-le, came 
 to the fort g-ates, and with a loud voice 
 desired admittance to the white chief. Their 
 request being- g-r anted, they advanced into 
 the hall, and after duly performing- their obeis 
 ance, touched with their wands of office myself 
 and the two gentlemen who were present 
 with me. 
 
 This grand ceremony, we were given to 
 
62 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 understand, was to be construed into an invi 
 tation to attend the entertainment of the day, to 
 commence ahout noon. We now held a con 
 sultation concerning- the propriety of accepting 
 an invitation of this nature j after duly weigh - 
 ing- the arguments for and ag-ainst such a show 
 of complaisance, I decided on doing- so, and that 
 one of the gentlemen, the surgeon, should like 
 wise attend ; thus setting* at nought the vague 
 rumours of evil intended ag-ainst us, which we 
 could not avoid hearing-. We first made every 
 arrangement with the gentleman who remained 
 at home, respecting the measures he should 
 adopt in the event of treachery, and then, 
 accompanied hy six men and our body guard 
 proceeded to the house of feasting, which, 
 if I might conjecture future events by the 
 lugubrious visages of the men, was likely to 
 prove to some of us a house of mourning. 
 The building was erected within a hundred 
 yards of the fort, and to suggest the idea that 
 we were prepared to revenge any treacherous 
 measures, two field-pieces were exposed in a 
 commanding situation in the block-houses. 
 On our arrival at the entrance of the ban- 
 
AN INDIAN FESTIVAL, 63 
 
 quetingh al^ which the Indians had extem 
 porized with considerable skill, we found the 
 crowd so great that ingress was for a moment 
 impossible. A frig'htful howling* and shouting 1 , 
 however, soon drew attention to our presence, 
 and six stout fellows, whose office of masters 
 of the ceremonies seemed blended with that of 
 special constables to preserve the public peace 
 on this occasion, laid about them with such 
 right good-will and effect that a wide passage 
 was opened for us, and the jackall-like howls 
 of the expectant revellers partially quelled as 
 they retired on either side. In this state 
 we entered the building-, which we found to be 
 of very ample dimensions, provided also, at one 
 end, with an elevated stage, before which a 
 parti-coloured curtain was suspended. The 
 whole of the remaining' area was occupied by 
 rows of seats arranged as in the pit of a theatre, 
 the tout ensemble, indeed, forcibly reminding 
 me of the plan of arrangement adopted in 
 places of that description, in more polished 
 situations than a scarcely known spot of the 
 north-west coast of this continent. As the 
 honoured guests of the chief, we were accom- 
 
64 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 modated with a couple of chairs within a short 
 distance of the stage, and during the hrief 
 interval occurring before the attention was 
 otherwise demanded, had a favourable oppor 
 tunity of computing the number of Indians pre 
 sent, which could not have been less than eight 
 hundred, exclusive of women, who were seated 
 apart, and of a crowd of slaves of both sexes; 
 who eagerly thronged the entrance with the 
 hope of witnessing the grand doings about to 
 proceed within-doors. 
 
 A stop was soon put to my speculations on 
 this point, by the elevation of the curtain which 
 immediately followed a signal proceeding from 
 behind it. On the stage, boldly erect, stood the 
 lord of the banquet, recognizable by his lofty 
 stature and the stately proportions which im 
 parted a peculiar grace and dignity to his 
 bearing. On his face he wore a grotesque 
 mask of wood. More interesting still, his 
 head was surmounted by an emblematical 
 figure, representing the sun, rendered lumi 
 nous by some simple contrivance in the in 
 terior. As all eyes were turned upon him, 
 the stage was so arranged that he gradually 
 
INDIAN FESTIVAL. 65 
 
 disappeared beneath it, bearing- with him the 
 source of lig-ht by which our artificial little 
 world was illuminated, and leaving 1 us in total 
 darkness; a state of affairs which, knowing 
 the savagely treacherous characters with 
 whom we were associated, was by no means 
 agreeable to us white men. The matter was 
 so contrived, however, that daylight presently 
 began to appear again, until, by slow degrees, 
 our Indian Phoebus, bearing- the brig-ht orb of 
 day, whose temporary absence we had deplored, 
 stood erect before us in all the meridian splen 
 dour of his first appearance. 
 
 Three times was this alternate setting- and 
 rising- of the sun repeated, each repetition eli 
 citing- rounds of rapturous applause, expressed 
 by shouts, screams, bowling's, and g-esticulations, 
 most indescribably appalling-, and such as 
 mig'ht cause a momentary shudder to the 
 stoutest heart. To do our entertainer jus 
 tice, his performance, simple as it was, was 
 most creditably carried throug-h, and spoke 
 much in favour of the native talent of its 
 originator. The deception by which the 
 gradual appearance and disappearance of the 
 
66 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 light was imitated, was indeed most com 
 plete, and productive of much satisfaction to us 
 all. Then came the second act of this dra 
 matic representation, consisting 1 in a grand 
 dance performed in the true North-west Coast 
 style, by forty young- women, each rejoicing 
 in a choice article of feminine tririketry in 
 serted, secundum artem, in the lower lip. 
 Their motions, as my friend the surg-eon re 
 markedfor I myself am no judg'e of these 
 affairs were in perfect unison with the music 
 of a chorus sung- by the dancers themselves ; 
 and, although they had not enjoyed the advan 
 tages of instruction under Italian masters of 
 the art, they at least contorted their limbs to 
 as good purpose as is usual in exhibitions of a 
 like nature. 
 
 The dancing- having continued for half an 
 hour, the exhibition ceased, but there was yet 
 no sign of the promised feast, beyond the 
 strong odour of putrid oil which pervaded the 
 place, and which indicated the existence of 
 something in the shape of eatables in the 
 vicinity. The delay was presently explained 
 when the chief entered the arena of the hall, 
 

 INDIAN FESTIVAL. 67 
 
 followed by slaves bearing presents. He laid 
 at my feet five beautiful sea-otter skins, and 
 a quantity of beaver, while a proportionable 
 quantity fell to the share of my companion. 
 Furs, war-dresses, slaves, and other property, 
 were then distributed in adequate portions 
 among- the assembled chiefs. The slaves, poor 
 unfortunates! though thus transferred to stran 
 gers, viewed the change with a seeming in 
 difference, well knowing that, here or else 
 where, slavery was their inevitable lot, and 
 that it was scarcely possible to change for the 
 worse. Pity that the Slavery Emancipation 
 Act does not extend its influence to these 
 remote shores, where the labours and sufferings 
 of the unhappy wretches whose condition it 
 might ameliorate, cease only with death. 
 
 Immense piles of meat and north-west 
 delicacies of all descriptions now appeared, and 
 judging from the concourse of guests, I con 
 sidered they were sufficient to consume the 
 whole, without assistance on my part. Per 
 haps I may here acknowledge, without much 
 danger of wounding the sensibility of my kind 
 entertainers, that I felt little desire to partake 
 
68 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of their good cheer, having strong and not un 
 reasonable misgivings that human flesh might 
 compose an undistinguishable portion ; it being 
 known, in fact, that slaves are frequently 
 sacrificed as a bonne louche to grace the re 
 past. Having intimated our desire to the 
 chief, the word was instantly given to make 
 way for our departure. The officious masters 
 of the ceremonies, as prompt in obedience as 
 command, instantly obeyed the mandate, and 
 in a few moments we emerged into the open 
 air, honoured as we went by the same un 
 earthly shouts that had greeted our arrival. 
 This mode of salutation, until we grew accus 
 tomed to it, caused us some surprise : all 
 over the interior it is usual for the natives to 
 remain, on the arrival of strangers, more than 
 usually quiet, so that conversation, or remarks 
 of any kind, seldom commence till the intro 
 ductory pipe of ceremony has made the tour 
 of those assembled. 
 
 As for our friendly convives, whose hospi 
 tality we may have failed to appreciate, they 
 passed a sleepless, though doubtless an agree 
 able night, and daylight the next morning 
 
INDIAN FESTIVAL. 69 
 
 found them still revelling* in the excess of their 
 enjoyment. A few hours more, and the re 
 membrance of all this jollity was all that re 
 mained to rejoice their lodges in the wilderness. 
 The slaves of the entertainers speedily de 
 molished their grand banqueting-hall ; replaced 
 the deals as they found them ; and, to their 
 honour be it said, restored all borrowed 
 articles. Best of all, they incontinently took 
 their own departure, leaving* us once more in 
 that state of comparative ease and tranquillity 
 which their grand revel had so long and so 
 disagreeably interrupted. 
 
70 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 
 
 TEN or twelve years are now elapsed since I 
 was stationed at Fort Killmaurs, in the 
 Babine country, on the seaward frontier of 
 Western Caledonia. Since then I have been 
 a wanderer far and near, my perverse fate 
 never permitting 1 me to sojourn long- in the 
 same spot ; but driving- me about without 
 cessation, like a ball in a tennis-court. While 
 in the heyday of youth, this vagTant kind of 
 life was not without its charms to one of my 
 unsettled disposition: with advancing* years, 
 however, soberer tastes, and less adventurous 
 desires, have crept over me, until I could 
 heartily wish for a life of greater tranquillity. 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 71 
 
 The potentates who rule my destiny seem, 
 however, otherwise inclined, and I now dis 
 cover, to my overpowering* chagrin and dis 
 comfort, that what I beg-an willingly, and 
 reg-arded as amusement, I must continue in 
 earnest and against the grain, like physic ad 
 ministered to one who mig-ht wish it c( to the 
 dog's r cc leJluXy WL amena le reflux m'amene." 
 When, oh, when, will this life of involuntary 
 peregrination cease ? 
 
 But a truce to useless plaints, and let me 
 ask you, the happy reader of my sometimes 
 unhappy narrations, if you have ever been in 
 Western Caledonia ? If you have not, I must 
 tell you that Fort Killmaurs, my old charg-e, 
 is situated on the borders of a superb lake, 
 called by the natives " Nata," by ourselves 
 denominated " Babine." Wherefore this dif 
 ference of name ? and what the origin of the 
 latter ? you may perhaps ask. Know, then, that 
 the inhabitants of the vicinity, like those of 
 the neighbouring- sea-coast, have a strang-e 
 custom of inserting- pieces of wood, or ivory, 
 in the shape of small platters, concave on both 
 sides, into perforations made in the nether lips 
 
72 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of the fairer portion of the community. Jean 
 Baptiste, a Canadian, having- a nice eye for 
 analogy of form, and detecting- the likeness of 
 this self-imposed deformity to the babine, or 
 lip of a cow, or a horse, saw no better way 
 of perpetuating- his discovery than its imme 
 diate application .as the distinguishing- name 
 of the tribe. This delicate appellation has 
 since taken a place in the nomenclature of the 
 country, of which it would be now difficult to 
 deprive it ; notwithstanding- the frequent incon 
 venience which is allowed on all hands to 
 result from the arbitrary mode of naming- 
 places, without reference to the aboriginal 
 nomenclature, by which alone they oug-ht to be 
 distinguished* 
 
 Fort Killmaurs, at the date of my present 
 story, had been established about a year only. 
 It had been my lot to superintend the cutting- 
 of the first stick at its commencement, and to 
 witness the hoisting- of the British flag-. It is 
 scarcely credible how expeditiously forts are 
 " knocked up," and what is meant by their 
 completion, in this country. After this epoch, 
 to which I had for some time, and most 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 73 
 
 anxiously looked forward, I began to feel 
 more at ease, as, happen what might, we had 
 now the means of ensuring- our safety in the 
 event of any sudden rupture with the swarthy 
 savages who surrounded us. The sense of secu 
 rity, and the leisure which a year of anxiety at 
 length left me, was favourable to the conside 
 ration of plans for acquiring 1 a more intimate 
 knowledge of the surrounding country. Several 
 projects presented themselves to my mind, 
 all smacking more or less of adventure, until 
 it became utterly impossible to remain quietly 
 ensconced in my chimney-corner. I at length 
 determined, as a premier pas, on paying a 
 visit to the village of Hotset, which, the 
 natives informed me, was situated at some 
 days' march distance, on the borders of a large 
 stream, of which that issuing from the Nata 
 Lake was a tributary. Following up this 
 resolve, I speedily put affairs in train for its 
 due prosecution : in the first place, making 
 such dispositions as I deemed necessary for 
 the safety of the post during my absence, 
 and consigning the charge to my junior in 
 command. I then selected such of the ser- 
 
74 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 vants as I wished to accompany me, and set 
 forward on my voyage of discovery. 
 
 There is something- animating- in the very 
 name of an expedition to explore new coun 
 tries, and how much more in the actual pro 
 secution of one ! Who, while only perusing 
 the history of another's wanderings, has not 
 experienced a feeling, however slight, of envy, 
 as each wayside adventure is reproduced with 
 life-like distinctness in the magic mirror of his 
 imagination? Who in his reveries upon the 
 romance of travel has not felt his heart bound 
 with the zest of discovery, seasoned with the 
 humour of a Bruce or a Le Vaillant ; or who 
 but has sympathized with the hopes and the 
 fears, and the daily disappointments of some 
 adventurous Park, or equally adventurous 
 Clapperton ? Alas, for us poor north-westers ! 
 we can only envy the fame of these renowned 
 names. But, as I have said, there is some 
 thing which tends to exalt the mind in the 
 prospect of exploring regions till now trodden 
 only by the footsteps of the savage j some 
 thing which gives a higher tone to- all our 
 feelings, calling every talent of observation 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 75 
 
 into play, and provoking- curiosity which one 
 is willing- to strain every nerve to gratify. 
 
 MaiSj revenons a nos moutons. On leaving- 
 Fort Killmaurs, our route lay towards the end 
 of the lake. A large canoe, manned by ten 
 select men, skimmed over the waters in regatta 
 style ] the adjacent shores echoing- the song's 
 of the rowers, as they bent to the oars, and 
 one after another caug-ht up the exhilarating- 
 chorus. The pleasure of riding- over the 
 waters, the pure air, the panorama of the 
 unknown shores, and the cheerful songs of my 
 companions, all contributed to the balmy feel 
 ing- of g-ladness which came over me, as I 
 mused on the adventures which lay before 
 us. I was by no means confident of a 
 welcome reception when we should arrive at 
 our destination, and was moreover well aware 
 that it was the rendezvous of all the black- 
 g-uards and all the gamblers of the sur 
 rounding- villages. I had, however, taken every 
 precaution to ensure our safety as far as the 
 arming- of the party went ; and it now only 
 remained, by a judicious line of conduct, to 
 avoid all occasion of rupture with the natives 
 
76 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of Hotset, to whom the faces and manners of 
 Europeans were as yet unknown. 
 
 A few hours served to take us to Nass- 
 chick, a village occupied by some of the Lake 
 Indians. This village, or rather hamlet, is 
 situated at the extremity of the Nata, at a 
 point where the opposite shores, gradually 
 converging for some distance, approach each 
 other so nearly as to indicate, at the first 
 glance, the commencement of the stream by 
 which the waters of the lake are discharged. 
 
 We were received here with great demon 
 strations of joy ; and as this spot had hitherto 
 been the extent of our visits in this direction, I 
 availed myself of the happy disposition evinced 
 by the inhabitants to press the necessity of their 
 furnishing me with guides for the continuance 
 of our journey. This proposition was met 
 with very little favour and it was evident 
 to me that a feeling of dread at visiting the 
 natives of Hotset, whose sincerity, even in 
 times of peace, they always mistrust, opposed 
 an effectual barrier to the speedy accomplish 
 ment of my wishes. Seeing, therefore, that 
 none of those present were willing to accom- 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 77 
 
 pany me, and desirous of showing- the Indians 
 that we could travel without their assistance, 
 I asked one of the chiefs for verbal direc 
 tions as to the route, and gave the word for 
 starting- ag-ain. We now proceeded by land, 
 the canoe and its appendages being* left in care 
 of the chief. 
 
 Having- coasted for some distance along- the 
 left bank of the river, the road, which was in 
 some places scarcely traced, struck obliquely 
 up into the interior, in a direction nearly west 
 by south. The country, for the remainder of 
 this day's march, was level, but much obstructed 
 by the abundance of brushwood, and by wind- 
 fallen trees, which in many places impeded our 
 progress. The day following, having passed 
 several diminutive lakes, we began to ascend, 
 and presently came in sight of a high moun 
 tain, over which it was evident we should be 
 obliged to pass, though at what precise point 
 was a problem most difficult to solve, as the 
 track which had hitherto guided us, no longer 
 appeared. As this occasioned us all very 
 considerable anxiety, considering the difficulty 
 and danger in which we might immediately be 
 
78 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 involved by attempting" a wrong* pass, I or 
 dered a halt, and had breakfast prepared, while 
 some of my most active men went to examine 
 whether there existed on either side of us, 
 any indication of the track usually followed, 
 and from which we mig-ht have inadvertently 
 deviated. They had scarcely set out on this 
 errand, before their attention, in common with 
 my own, was arrested by a faint shout, which 
 appeared to proceed from the side of the moun 
 tain. Hereupon our scouts returned, and I 
 ordered a couple of shots to be fired as a 
 signal, which was instantly answered by a 
 sing-le one in return. The smoke of the dis 
 charge served to indicate the position of our 
 unknown neighbour, and presently after, two 
 human being's were seen cautiously descending* 
 the face of the steep declivity, sometimes dis 
 appearing 1 among 1 the crannies of the rocks, at 
 others standing 1 in bold relief in the fore 
 ground. 
 
 The approach of these fortuitous visitors 
 seemed to promise the means of extricating" us 
 from our dilemma. They proved to be sheep- 
 hunters, from the vicinity of Nass-chick, who 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 79 
 
 had on several occasions visited Killmaurs, and 
 attracted my regard by the modest propriety 
 of their demeanour, combined with an air of 
 independent confidence by no means common 
 to their associates. 
 
 The father of these young- men, for they were 
 brothers, was an Indian of the Rocky Moun 
 tain Secanny tribe, who had married a woman 
 of the Nataotins. Attached in some degree 
 to the latter by this connection, he had yet at 
 all times maintained the stately independence 
 which characterizes the Secanny, as contrasted 
 with the Babine Indian ; or which, in a more 
 extended view, is morally distinctive of the 
 native hunter of the wilds of North America, 
 from the more ignoble fisher of its waters. 
 The parents of his wife had long since paid the 
 debt of nature, and now the only tie which 
 had bound the old man to these strange lands, 
 was dissolved by the death of his partner, 
 which had taken place some months previous 
 to the present rencontre. Thus released from 
 the ungenial society of those who had no 
 claims upon his regard except their connec 
 tion with his wife, and from the bonds of con- 
 
80 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 jugal affection which had hitherto restrained 
 his wandering- propensities, the veteran hunter 
 proposed to himself the abandonment of his 
 adopted country ; with a view to rejoining, in 
 company with his two sons, the society of his 
 old friends and relations, if haply they yet 
 roamed amid the wild fastnesses of the Rocky 
 Mountains. In prosecution of this object, he 
 and his sons were now eagerly employed hunt 
 ing 1 to procure a sufficiency of provisions for a 
 grand feast in memory of his departed wife, 
 and as a valedictory repast to the associates of 
 his married days, to whom, perhaps, he was 
 now about to bid an eternal adieu. 
 
 The welcome arrival of these young- men 
 removed every difficulty, as they readily 
 agreed to join company with us. After break 
 fasting, we set forward in good heart, and be 
 gan ascending the steep acclivity opposed to 
 our progress ; a labour, I must add, by no 
 means agreeable, or very rapidly accomplished, 
 as we were compelled to stop from time to 
 time in order to recover breath. Marching 
 or climbing in this painful manner, and envy 
 ing the comparative facility with which our 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 81 
 
 guides overcame every obstacle, we were four 
 hours reaching 1 the summit of the mountain. 
 Here I gladly sat down to admire the fine 
 panorama of the country which it afforded. 
 Behind us lay the extensive lake of the Na- 
 taotins, its immediate shores fringed with a 
 dark line of pines, while the background 
 offered an agreeable variety of fir-crowned 
 eminences, interspersed with brown, grass- 
 covered hills. The great height of our posi 
 tion afforded a bird's-eye prospect of all the 
 western portion of the lake ; its deep indenta 
 tions lying exposed to the eye as if accu 
 rately delineated by the hand of some huge 
 giant, on a chart of dimensions huge enough 
 to be regarded as an exact portraiture of 
 nature. 
 
 On our left hand was a chaotic assemblage 
 of mountains, all of them more or less wreathed 
 with snow, which, drifted by the wintry gales 
 among the angular projections of the rocks, 
 had resisted the heats of bygone summer, and 
 now lay dazzlingly white, as the declining sun 
 cast its weakened rays upon them, causing a 
 mirage by which the picturesque effect of the 
 
 G 
 
82 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 whole was greatly heightened. Our own 
 mountain, for so I shall term the one whereon 
 we stood, hore away the palm, however, for 
 its goodly stature, from all the rest. A lofty 
 pinnacle, whose summit was covered with a 
 venerable crown of eternal snow, reared its 
 head on the right hand of our path, over 
 topping all the neighbouring heads, like a 
 patriarch of the olden days, standing amidst 
 the crowd of his attendant elders, or like some 
 leaf-crowned monarch of the forest, rising 
 pre-eminently conspicuous over its less noble 
 companions. 
 
 Having sufficiently admired the scene, 1 
 turned to ask the opinion of my fellow tra 
 vellers, who, I thought, would at least par 
 ticipate in the delight I felt on beholding it. 
 I had, however, miscalculated on the measure 
 of sympathy to be expected from these Cana 
 dian or Indian rovers, for anything wherein 
 beauty and grandeur, however sublime, call 
 for the exercise of the imagination. Three of 
 them were stretched at full length enjoying a 
 doze after the fatigue of the ascent ; the rest 
 were unconcernedly smoking, reclined against 
 

 A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 83 
 
 their bundles ; while the two Indians sat stoic 
 ally puffing- their small calumets, inhaling* the 
 precious fumes with an indescribable g-usto, 
 and again emitting 1 them, after a protracted 
 internal circulation, heaven knows throug'h 
 what intricate channels, like the breath of the 
 war-horse. 
 
 Such was the disposition of the forces, and 
 certainly if a stupid indifference to the gran 
 deur or beauty of nature could have en 
 titled its possessor to a premium, each of my 
 companions in arms mig-ht have contended for 
 its acquisition. I observed, however, that one 
 of my men, while all the others were either 
 asleep, or idly chatting- together, sat silently 
 by, without seeming- to reg-ard any thing- that 
 was seen or done in his presence. He was a 
 Canadian, of Franco -Scottish descent, and, 
 from the sobriety of his character, had been 
 preferred to the situation of body servant to 
 my aug-ust self. This man, at least, thoug-ht 
 I, seems to enjoy the scene in admiring* 
 silence : but here ag'ain I was mistaken ; his 
 thoughtful reserve proceeding-, as will be 
 seen, from another and totally different cause. 
 
84 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 (< Dormez-vous, Bernard ? " said I, in a half 
 jocular way, wishing- to ascertain the sen 
 timents of the only one whom I deemed 
 capable of appreciating my own enthusiastic 
 admiration of the scene " Dormez-vous ? " 
 
 " Je ne dors pas/' replied he, in a serious 
 tone of voice, and in a manner quite different 
 from usual. "Je n'ai pas envie de dormir, 
 vraiment, Monsieur. J'ai de quoi m'occuper 
 Tesprit." 
 
 (f Bon la what's in the wind now ? You 
 seem low-spirited surely nothing- has hap 
 pened to disturb your equanimity in this out- 
 of-the-way place." 
 
 f( Have the kindness," said he, " to continue 
 the march, and I will then, without attracting 
 the notice of my comrades, impart to you, 
 as we go on, the subject which now disturbs 
 
 me." 
 
 I saw that the poor fellow was really at 
 tacked with some strange misgiving, and at 
 once accorded his request, desiring him to 
 follow me closely, in order that he might com 
 municate the story which seemed to weigh 
 upon his mind. 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 85 
 
 Our path lay for some distance along 1 the 
 top of the mountain. A few scattered and 
 shrivelled blades of grass, intermingled with 
 an occasional tuft of a hrown weather-beaten- 
 looking- plant, somewhat resembling 1 the Scot 
 tish heath, were the only indications of vege 
 table life in these elevated regions. Huge 
 wreaths of snow, from their situation unaffected 
 by the summer sun, filled every cranny on 
 both sides of the ridge along which we were 
 walking ; while the long shadow of the snowy 
 peak on our right spread a sombre gloom 
 over the immediate vicinity, strongly contrasted 
 with the lightsome aspect of the unshaded 
 precipices opposite. Before us lay an appa 
 rently interminable vista of mountains, rising 
 precipitously from the sides of a deep valley 
 into which we now began our descent. 
 
 I was about to remind Bernard Debreuille 
 of his promise, when it suddenly struck me 
 that I had not yet named the mountain, which, 
 as being the most remarkable in the vicinity, 
 and now for the first time traversed by civi 
 lized feet, certainly merited some distinction of 
 this sort. I referred to Bernard. 
 
86 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 " Call it Saint Bernard, Monsieur it is to 
 day the Jtite dedicated to my patron and, 
 moreover, I will g-ive you g-ood reasons to 
 prefer that name." 
 
 "So let it be, my g-ood fellow," said I, 
 laug-hingly, " be your reasons what they may." 
 
 We were interrupted by a shrill whistle not 
 far from us. 
 
 " Hist ! " said Bernard, firmly closing- his 
 lips, and looking- intently forward " Mon 
 sieur, je vous en prie ecoutez ! " 
 
 "Tut, tut!" said I; " Bernard, my g-ood 
 lad, you become childish, leave me alone ; " 
 and as I spoke, I withdrew my g-un-cover, 
 took aim, and sent a bullet through the brain 
 of the innocent cause of his alarm a fat mar 
 mot which had been curiously peering- at us 
 from the mouth of his hole, and which, from 
 its colour, was scarcely distinguishable from 
 the surrounding- rocks. In the neighbourhood, 
 I observed many tracks of these animals, and 
 the guides informed me that these hills were 
 their usual resort. They appeared to con 
 gregate in small colonies, burrowing in the 
 ground, and announcing the approach of 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 87 
 
 danger by the shrill whistle before alluded 
 to. There are two species of these animals, 
 respectively inhabiting" the high lands and 
 the low country; both in much esteem as 
 articles of food, and as such, a good deal 
 sought after. They remain confined to their 
 burrows during the whole of the dead season, 
 while fruits and different herbaceous produc 
 tions are not procurable ; and are remarkable 
 beyond other animals for their improvident 
 habits. 
 
 The shadows of evening now began to over 
 take us, and it was necessary to hasten on 
 wards to some spot where water and fuel for 
 the nig'ht's consumption might be found. After 
 descending rapidly for about half an hour, we 
 discovered a small spring, issuing from the 
 vicinity of some stunted pines, where we en 
 camped till morning. In the course of our 
 hurried descent, Debreuille accounted for his 
 despondency by explaining to me that his 
 slumbers of the preceding night had been 
 disturbed by dreams, involving the fate of 
 some of his dearest friends ; among others, of 
 a young woman, the daughter of a rich Cana- 
 
88 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 dian farmer, to whom he was clandestinely he- 
 trothed. To crown the whole, Saint Bernard, 
 his patron saint, had appeared to him in a 
 vision, predicting 1 death, and warning 1 him of 
 instant repentance of those sinful deeds which 
 he, in common with other mortals, was daily 
 committing 1 . 
 
 Despising- superstition as much as any man, 
 I yet saw that this was not a case to be trifled 
 with. It was evident to me that the imagi 
 nation of the poor man was more than or 
 dinarily affected ; and, duly sympathizing- with 
 his feeling's, I pointed out to him the folly 
 of submitting 1 to the influence of such trivial 
 causes. I endeavoured to convince him that 
 his foreknowledg-e of the approaching- fete-day 
 of his patron saint had given rise to his imagi 
 nary visitation, supporting- my arg-ument by 
 instancing- his ridiculous alarm at the harm 
 less whistling- of the marmot, so opposed to his 
 ordinary calmness under circumstances of sur 
 prise less childishly trifling- than those in ques 
 tion. He admitted the justice of all I said, 
 but it was easy to discover, from his despond 
 ing tone of voice, that I had not succeeded in 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 89 
 
 my object^ and that the untoward fancies by 
 which his mind was oppressed, yet haunted 
 him. It was still the same through all the 
 next day's inarch, notwithstanding' his own 
 evident desire to conceal his melancholy, and 
 the efforts which I repeatedly renewed to 
 divert his attention. Poor fellow, his was a 
 disease which has baffled the utmost skill 
 of physicians more learned than myself, and 
 the utmost care of how many solicitous and 
 beloved friends! 
 
 After traversing 1 the sides of the valley, 
 through which a small rivulet gurgled merrily 
 towards the main stream, whither we were 
 directing- our steps, we reached the spot 
 previously designated by the gnrides, and en 
 camped as before. On the morrow, the sun 
 did not find us lingering- ; and by noon we 
 arrived on the hills which overlook the roman 
 tically situated village of Hotset. It was in 
 all probability owing- to the heat of the day 
 that we found all quiet, the only signs of life 
 being a few children, and half-a-dozen curs, 
 lazily rolling in the grass. A loud whoop 
 from our Indian companions, however, made 
 
90 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 our approach known, and immediately all was 
 animation 5 crowds upon crowds of naked sa 
 vages pouring 1 out of the huts, and clamor 
 ously repeatingthe cry of " netta ! netta ! " the 
 word expressive of Europeans, by which the 
 quality of their visitors was announced. 
 
 Formed into Indian file, myself leading the 
 column, we descended into the plain adjoining 
 the lodges. Of these there were twenty-eight, 
 of large size, each of them affording accommo 
 dation, on an average, to six or seven families. 
 The village was divided into two, by the course 
 of the river, which at some distance above 
 and below was of considerable breadth, but 
 at this particular spot was contracted within 
 very narrow limits by steep rocks on either 
 side, rising perpendicularly to a great height, 
 their upper masses overhanging towards each 
 other, and making a fearful chasm, through 
 which the torrent foamed and boiled, as it 
 dashed madly along. Over the narrowest 
 part, where it was not more than forty feet 
 across, lay a huge pine-tree stripped of its 
 branches, which had been felled designedly to 
 form a bridge of communication between the 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 91 
 
 opposite sides. The neighbouring- country 
 seemed to consist of a variety of strong 1 wood 
 and prairie, in unequal proportion, the former 
 by far predominating- while in the immediate 
 vicinity of the villag-e were scattered groups of 
 stunted aspens, which contributed to form, on 
 the whole, an engaging* prospect. 
 
 I had time to cast but a very cursory 
 g-lance at the general features of the scene, 
 when we were met, on the confines of the 
 village, by the principal inhabitants, headed by 
 their chief, "bearded like the pard," as were a 
 great many of his retainers. The attire of 
 these magnates was ludicrously incongruous, 
 and I had some trouble to suppress a smile as I 
 offered my hand to each in succession, a 
 symbol of which they had learned the meaning 
 from their neighbours of Nass-chick. Accus 
 tomed as I had been to the extravagancies of 
 an Indian toilet, I was scarcely prepared 
 to witness such grotesque refinement as I 
 found displayed by the beaux of Hotset, whe 
 ther they strutted up in gaudy shreds of worn- 
 down finery combined together in the most 
 indescribable confusion of lines and forms, 
 
92 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 or, less diffuse in their tastes, paced soberly 
 forwards in suits, or half-suits, of shabby 
 genteel vestments which might have graced 
 the purlieus of Monmouth-street. One grim- 
 looking" fellow stood eminently conspicuous 
 in a scarlet coat, unaccompanied by that nether 
 appendage which a delicate spectator might 
 have deemed necessary to decorum while 
 another, his nearest neighbour, rejoiced in a 
 regimental coat of the Sappers and Miners, 
 and the very decorous adjunct of a half-worn 
 pair of corduroy trowsers ! The whole of 
 these fineries, I must add, by the way, had 
 evidently been assumed for the occasion, as 
 one of great state, and it seemed only charitable 
 to ascribe the little discrepancies I have men 
 tioned to the hurry of their toilet. 
 
 It may occasion some surprise that savages 
 who, as I have said, were perfect strangers to 
 the sight of Europeans, should possess so many 
 articles indicative of a commercial intercourse. 
 To explain this, it is only necessary to state 
 that the river affords a communication between 
 these unsophisticated races and the Indians 
 inhabiting the coast and its mouth, known by 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 93 
 
 the name of Chyniseyans. Through this 
 channel, a constant barter of furs in exchange 
 lor articles of European merchandize pro 
 cured from the traders by the Chyniseyans, is 
 carried on, upon a scale of magnificence of 
 which the example cited must suffice. 
 
 The ceremony of hand-shaking having been 
 gone through, with a gravity which its novelty, 
 to one party at least, did not fail to secure for 
 it, the chief led the way to his lodge, to reach 
 which it was necessary to cross the primi 
 tive bridge I have mentioned. This, to the 
 eyes of the natives, who were accustomed to 
 the feat from their childhood, offered nothing 
 to cause a moment's tremor or apprehension, 
 and it seemed not to enter into their minds 
 that a different view of the subject might be 
 entertained by others. For my own part, I 
 must acknowledge that I felt some repugnance 
 to follow, as they unhesitatingly led the way, 
 over the fearful abyss. In order to conceal 
 my hesitation, and gain time to " screw my 
 courage to the sticking place," I turned round, 
 aud ordered the men, excepting Baptiste, my 
 interpreter, to re-ascend the hill which over- 
 
94 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 looked the village on the Killmaurs' side, 
 where I requested them to erect the tent, and 
 await my return. I warned them, at the 
 same time, not to place too much confidence in 
 the integrity of the Indians, and to he ready 
 at a moment's call, should I unhappily require 
 their assistance, to repel treachery ; not, how 
 ever, that I suspected it, but merely to put 
 them on their proper guard, by giving- them 
 grounds for salutary suspicion. After giving 
 these orders, observing all eyes turned on me, 
 I assumed as much unconcern as I could, 
 and resolutely advanced, like a sick man 
 bent on swallowing a disagreeable draught, to 
 cross the giddy passage. Luckily, it was not 
 more than fifteen paces across, and by keeping* 
 my eyes steadily fixed on the opposite shore 
 without allowing them to stray downwards 
 on the rushing stream, I got on much to my 
 own satisfaction, and without betraying any 
 symptom of the awkward feelings of ner 
 vousness which I had inwardly experienced, 
 Baptiste followed me closely, and we were 
 presently ushered with great formality into 
 the lodge of Sniggletrum, the nom de guerre 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 95 
 
 by which I understood the chief to be distin 
 guished. 
 
 Being- seated a la Turque, on a bear-skin 
 spread for my accommodation, Baptiste sta 
 tioned on my right hand, and my two Se- 
 canny guides, who stuck to me wherever I went, 
 on my left, I had leisure to look about me ; 
 Baptiste in the mean time preparing tobacco 
 for a general smoking bout, the usual pre 
 liminary to the transaction of all ceremonious 
 business here as elsewhere among the Indians. 
 The lodges, I observed, were built on the same 
 model as the Carrier, though more spacious, 
 and of neater construction boards split from 
 the cedar-tree forming the sides, instead of the 
 peeled sapling firs used for that purpose by 
 the latter. Some of these boards were of 
 great breadth; one which I subsequently mea 
 sured was more than four feet, while others 
 which I casually saw, appeared even to exceed 
 that limit. Among other ornaments indicative 
 of a commercial intercourse with the natives of 
 the coast, I noticed a couple of paltry mirrors 
 nearly a foot square, set in deal frames gaudily 
 ornamented with gilt and varnish. On one of 
 
96 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the large boards just mentioned also, a brig 
 under full sail was rudely delineated in char 
 coal and vermillion the work, as I under 
 stood, of one of the Chyniseyan chiefs who 
 periodically come up the river to trade. 
 
 According" to the Carrier custom, a meal 
 was speedily prepared, and set before me, con 
 sisting of a fat beaver boiled, of which, out of 
 compliment to my host, I slightly partook, the 
 remainder being set aside, and afterwards 
 sent to my tent. Our store of tobacco, mean 
 while, had come into great request, and the 
 dense cloud of pungent smoke which canopied 
 our heads, gave sensible testimony to the ener 
 getic use that was made of it. 
 
 Tobacco ! By that simple word how many 
 ideas are conjured up ! How strange that a 
 weed at first nauseating and unpalatable, and 
 whose effects are confessedly pernicious to the 
 constitution, should obtain such high rank 
 among the choicest luxuries of the human 
 race; and how much more strange that it 
 should have attained this high consideration, 
 and come into universal use, in defiance of the 
 anathemas fulminated against it by ecclesiasti- 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 97 
 
 i 
 
 cal authority, and the decrees of temporal po 
 tentates ! So it is, however. In the civilized 
 portions of the globe, tobacco forms the prin 
 cipal luxury of the lower classes at large, and 
 the only one of many individuals. At sea, 
 tobacco is the solace of the mariner in his 
 perils, and his comforter in many a dreary 
 watch. In the wilds of America, ask the 
 hardy voyager, ask the rude trapper, ask the 
 dusky savage, from the bleak shores of Labra 
 dor to the remote coast of the Pacific, to 
 name his greatest luxury Tobacco, tobacco, 
 tobacco : this and this only, is the great desi 
 deratum. With it in plenty all is well; without 
 it, gloom and dullness instantly prevail. 
 
 So it was, that eating and smoking in the 
 present case prepared the way for a good un 
 derstanding with the chief, to whom I com 
 municated, through the medium of my inter 
 preter, the precise object which led me to visit 
 his lands, expressing, at the same time, a wish 
 to enter into arrangements with him, by which 
 a constant intercourse for purposes of traffic 
 might be established. His answer was favour 
 able to my views, and after a protracted con- 
 
 H 
 
98 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 versation, I left the lodg^e to return to my men. 
 Before departing-, however, presents of furs 
 were made to me by " Sniggletrum," and 
 several of his principal men, which I caused to 
 be transferred to the tent. 
 
 Among 1 other articles was one with which, 
 under present circumstances, I would gladly 
 have dispensed. This was nothing- else than a 
 young 1 bear, alive, of the red-snouted species, 
 well-known for the savageness of their dispo 
 sition. When it was presented to me by 
 (( Sniggletrum," I was on the point of re 
 fusing it, but Baptiste privately whispered me 
 that the bear was the family symbol of the 
 chief, who would not relish any mark of dis 
 respect shown towards it. Thus warned, I 
 thought it best to accept the unwelcome gift, 
 and to dispose of it subsequently as I best 
 could. This ill-omened beast was in the end 
 the cause of much trouble j and when I first 
 saw it dragged forward by a long cord which 
 compassed its neck and one fore -paw, I 
 secretly wished it once more free in its 
 native woods, or anywhere except in my un 
 willing possession. The perverse brute seemed 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 99 
 
 little inclined to move in the direction re 
 quired, but struggled and pulled back most 
 strenuously; emitting 1 cries harrowing- in the 
 extreme, resembling 1 very nearly those of 
 a young- child, so pathetically modulated, 
 that one could almost fancy the poor animal 
 had sense approaching 1 to that of humanity, 
 and was supplicating- the mercy of its tor 
 mentors. At leng-th, to my momentary 
 satisfaction, the knot g-ave way, and Bruin 
 availed himself of the accident by making 1 
 off with himself towards the trees. The 
 tocsin, however, was sounded, and crowds upon 
 crowds of savag-es set off in pursuit, and after 
 a short chase succeeded in recapturing* the 
 runaway. But this was not done without 
 much resistance, so that one tall fellow, of the 
 family of Couthiro, another of the chiefs, had 
 his hand severely lacerated by the teeth of the 
 now infuriate animal. To reveng-e the injury, 
 he seized an axe, and would have sacrificed 
 the bear on the spot, had the bystanders not 
 prevented him. 
 
 For my own part I must acknowledg-e that 
 I would willingly have seen an end put to fur- 
 
100 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 ther trouble, by this summary infliction of con 
 dign punishment^ had it not been for the 
 commotion which the very attempt to commit 
 an action so degrading- to their family pride at 
 once created among 1 the partisans of the bear. 
 Knives and dag-gers gleamed forth in an 
 instant, while muskets, and all the minor 
 instruments of war, were hastily assumed by 
 either party, and a collision seemed impending 1 , 
 likely to involve serious consequences. At 
 this juncture, hoping 1 by my interference to 
 quiet the disturbance, and to allay for a time 
 the virulent animosity of the two parties, the 
 explosion of which had been brought on by a 
 cause so trivial, I advanced with Baptiste, 
 through means of whom I essayed the office 
 of a mediator. The yells and shouts of several 
 hundred voices, mingling- in harsh dissonance, 
 were gradually reduced to quiet by my 
 appearance so far, at least, that Baptiste's 
 words could be heard; and after a while it 
 was agreed between the rival parties to relin 
 quish hostile measures, and to unite in ren 
 dering 1 my stay among 1 them agreeable. 
 
 Meanwhile, the hapless cause of all this 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 101 
 
 commotion, having* been secured by a leathern 
 cord, the end of which was fastened round the 
 trunk of a tree, had turned about so often in 
 his endeavours to escape, and so tightened 
 the halter, as I may well call it, considering 
 the catastrophe which it caused, as to strangle 
 himself. I had wit enough to conceal my 
 secret satisfaction, as the brute lay, half-sus 
 pended, his tongue lolling- out, his eyes start 
 ing- from their sockets, and his unclosed lips 
 displaying- the grinning- teeth which seemed 
 only a too faithful caricature of the savage 
 brawl we had just witnessed. His death, 
 since it was evidently accidental, was looked 
 upon without concern; and as there was 
 nothing in the customs of the tribe to prevent 
 the flesh being eaten, I had the carcass sent 
 over to my men, who made a hearty meal 
 of it. Shortly afterwards, I re-crossed the 
 bridge, and ascended to my tent, where I 
 partook of supper, which Bernard had prepared 
 during my absence ; and, having posted a 
 couple of sentinels, to be relieved at intervals, 
 slept in broken slumbers till morning. 
 
 The next day was occupied in making re- 
 
102 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 turn presents to the chiefs, trading" in furs, and 
 discussing* the many topics which presented 
 themselves in the course of conversation; so 
 that it was not till the following- morning- at 
 sunrise, that I could arrang-e for setting- out on 
 my return. The hour having- arrived, I now 
 went to pay a parting- visit to the chief; again 
 crossing- and re-crossing- the rude bridg-e a feat 
 which, being- by this time in a degree accus 
 tomed to, I beg-an to view with less dread than 
 at first. Unhappily, when I returned from 
 this visit of ceremony, I found that I had lost 
 my keys, which I supposed had remained in 
 the lodg-e where I had been sitting-. Calling- 
 to one of the men to g-o in quest of them, 
 Debreuille, though not particularly named, set 
 off on this errand, and, reaching- the bridg-e, 
 appeared to hesitate, but the next moment, as 
 if ashamed of his weakness, hastily crossed 
 over. 
 
 Observing how little confidence he had in 
 his footsteps, I called out to him, when he 
 presently returned from the lodg-e, not to risk 
 the bridg-e, but to proceed on foot below the 
 fall, and then cross in a canoe. This sugges- 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 103 
 
 tion he did not adopt, being- perhaps afraid of 
 the sarcasms to which it might give rise among 
 his companions ; and with much anxiety I saw 
 him again attempt the crossing-. 
 
 The uneasiness I felt, proceeded from ano 
 ther cause besides the actual unsafeness of the 
 passage ; for, since the poor fellow's visionary 
 communication on Mount St. Bernard, I 
 thought I had perceived at intervals, symp 
 toms of insanity in his demeanour, and these, 
 unhappily, had appeared to increase daily. 
 It was, therefore, with feelings highly excited, 
 that I saw him advance dubiously and un 
 assisted, on the frail bridge which alone sepa 
 rated him from eternity ; for it is needless to 
 say, that one false step, while in this position, 
 would be instant destruction. 
 
 The object of my solicitude seemed, as he 
 slowly and hesitatingly proceeded, to become 
 gradually more agitated by the nervous feel 
 ings which few persons have not experienced 
 on similar occasions, and which affect us with 
 such mysterious awe. Whether a friendly 
 voice would have re-assured him at this mo 
 ment it is impossible to say, for we were afraid 
 
104 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of calling 1 out lest the tottering equilibrium 
 which he with difficulty preserved, should at 
 once be destroyed. He had reached the cen 
 tre of the chasm, and his situation was now 
 indeed critical ; his fine form appeared as if 
 spell-bound, so motionless was he ; his ex 
 pressive physiognomy seemed worked to a 
 frenzy of excitement by the tumultuous feel 
 ing's which agitated him; and, as he gazed 
 downwards on the roaring- torrent which rolled 
 beneath him, it seemed as if his every sense 
 were fascinated by some mysterious object, 
 which no one but himself could perceive. 
 Every eye was now fixed on the poor fellow, 
 and a breathless silence reigned among 1 the 
 numerous spectators, which rendered still more 
 awful the rushing- din of the cataract, in itself 
 dreadful to contemplate. A poet has written 
 of " darkness visible : " to adopt the same 
 idiom of expression, this dread climax of 
 silence was indeed " silence audible/' So 
 oppressive did it at length become, that, un 
 able longer to control my feelings, I advanced 
 to the edge of the chasm, and endeavoured, by 
 signs, to attract the attention of the unfor- 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 105 
 
 tunate man. It was in vain : he stood un 
 moved and immoveable, still gazing intently as 
 before. 
 
 " Debreuille ! Bernard !" whispered I. " Ber 
 nard ! " I called, in a louder voice " Bernard, 
 look up ! Come on, man, for the love of God, 
 come on ! " 
 
 It seemed for a moment that he had re 
 covered his self-possession, but, as he stared 
 wildly towards me, and stamped his foot im 
 patiently on the tree, I saw that reason, which 
 had so long- tottered on her throne, was now 
 completely cast down. The unfortunate ma 
 niac seemed no longer to feel giddy or alarmed 
 at his perilous situation. 
 
 He gesticulated most fearfully, again and 
 again fixing his eyes intently on the water. 
 
 " Bernard!" I again shouted in a loud voice, 
 fc come on, I command you !" 
 
 He looked up, shrieked out wildly and hor 
 ribly, uttered some words that seemed to imply 
 recognition, and again relapsed into his state 
 of abstraction. 
 
 While endeavouring to invent some means 
 of extricating the man from this perilous situa- 
 
106 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 tion, my attention was attracted by the most 
 fearful screams I ever heard. 
 
 " Oui ! " cried the maniac, " oui ! je la vois 
 je la vois ; pour la dernier fois, je la vois." 
 And he sprang wildly forwards : " Je la vois, 
 je la vois, je la " 
 
 The sentence was never completed. The 
 unfortunate and hapless -fated individual dis 
 appeared for ever in the foaming 1 torrent, leav 
 ing 1 the horror-stricken spectators gazing 1 after 
 him, as if able to pierce the dark waste of 
 waters which had swallowed him up. 
 
 No vestiges of his body were ever discovered \ 
 but, to mark the spot where the sad catas 
 trophe occurred, I caused a rude cross to be 
 erected ; a sad memorial of the first visit of 
 Christians to this secluded spot. Our return 
 to Kilmaurs was attended with no occurrence 
 worthy of notice ; and it was long- after reach 
 ing home ere I could dismiss from my imagi 
 nation the fearful cries which had been uttered 
 by poor Debreuille at the closing moment of his 
 existence. Peace to his soul ! 
 
 Three years after the events I have related, 
 I was passing the winter on furlough in Mon- 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 107 
 
 treal. Time, which gradually effaces the most 
 vivid impressions, had kindly thrown a veil 
 over the sad memory of my visit to Hotset ; 
 and the fate of poor Debreuille, if it ever re 
 curred to mind, was dismissed as hastily as 
 possible. Mixing" daily in the sober gaieties 
 of the city, I had little time for the intrusion 
 of melancholy thoughts, and here, if any 
 where, I mig-ht have expected immunity from 
 them. This, however, was not to be. One 
 day I was invited by a friend to accompany 
 him on a visit to the Chapel of the Hotel 
 Dieu Convent, to witness the assumption of 
 the veil by a girl whose noviciate had 
 recently expired. It was a grave ceremony, 
 to be sure ; but still so interesting-, that I 
 hesitated not to accept his invitation, and arm 
 in arm we proceeded to the scene of its per 
 formance. 
 
 On our arrival, we found the chapel 
 nearly full of people; the rites of the day 
 being* then about to commence. The object 
 of the ceremony stood alone, and was re 
 markable for the air of calm resignation 
 which pervaded her features, in themselves 
 
108 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 surpassingly lovely, but now seeming- of a 
 more elevated order of beauty, from the 
 religious fervour which animated them, as 
 with supernatural lig-ht. On a bench in one 
 corner sat an elderly couple, who seemed 
 deeply impressed with the solemnity of the 
 occasion ; but more deeply agitated by some 
 internal feeling- which they vainly endea 
 voured to conceal. These were the parents 
 of the novice of her who was about to 
 sever the dearest ties which connected her 
 with this life to renounce father and mother 
 for a more mysterious relationship which it 
 mig-ht be beyond the power of the poor old 
 people to comprehend. 
 
 Mass was performed, and all the imposing 
 rites prescribed by the Church of Rome on 
 similar occasions. The anthem pealed through 
 the aisles, and every studied form was g-one 
 through, so well calculated to clothe the broken 
 heart, as with garments of honour. The cere 
 mony was over, and the beautiful Canadian 
 bade a final adieu to the vanities of this world. 
 I felt impelled to inquire her name and history 
 of my friend. " She is the daughter of a rich 
 
A TALE OF WESTERN CALEDONIA. 109 
 
 habitant/' replied he " of him whom you re 
 marked seated in the chapel, and her name is 
 Ad&le d'Aubigne." " Enough ! " rejoined I : 
 " I know the rest." Need I add that I recog 
 nized the heart-stricken lover of the hapless 
 Bernard Debreuille. 
 
110 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 
 
 ON the evening of the 6th December we were 
 seated around our cheerful fireside, " holding- 
 sweet converse" on the different topics of news 
 we had lately received from Canada and Eng 
 land by our overland express, when a loud 
 knocking at the door attracted the attention of 
 
 all present, and a Mr. H , from the Dalles 
 
 mission, made his appearance, accompanied by 
 a servant of the Company from Walla Walla, 
 one of our trading posts on the upper part of 
 the Columbia. They announced to us the 
 melancholy tidings of the murder of Dr. 
 and Mrs. Whitman and twelve Americans, 
 with the entire destruction of Wai-let-pu mis- 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. Ill 
 
 sion. The following 1 particulars of this bloody 
 tragedy may be relied on. 
 
 For some time previous to the massacre, a 
 number of the Cayoux Indians, who resided in 
 the vicinity of the mission, had died of the 
 measles and dysentery, which prevailed in every 
 partof the country. The worthy doctor had been 
 most constant in his attendance on the sufferers, 
 administering" not only medicines, but such 
 other comforts as, indeed, he could ill afford 
 from his slender stock. Unhappily, his efforts 
 for their relief were vain; the mortality in 
 creased, rather than diminished ; and the horrid 
 idea became impressed on the superstitious 
 minds of the Indians, that Dr. Whitman and 
 others had conspired to exterminate them by 
 means of poison ! This idea, however it may 
 have originated, received corroboration, as has 
 since been ascertained, from the instigations of 
 one Joseph Louis, a Spanish Creole, who for 
 upwards of a year had been employed about 
 the mission in the service of the kind master 
 whom he now sought to destroy. The number 
 of deaths continuing to increase daily, con 
 firmed the diabolical suspicion once entertained, 
 
112 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 and soon these wretched men resolved on re 
 venging their supposed wrongs, and securing* 
 their future safety, by murdering all the 
 inmates of the mission. 
 
 As the base Creole had urged them to this 
 fatal determination, and promised his assist 
 ance in the bloody deed, so he was almost the 
 first to commence the tragedy, by murdering 
 two brothers of tender years, the eldest not 
 more than sixteen a most cruel and cowardly 
 act, for at the time, both lay prostrate on a bed 
 of sickness. The hour of ten in the morning 
 was selected for the butchery, and before many 
 minutes had elapsed, no less than twelve victims 
 had been sacrificed to their wild and revengeful 
 superstition. The first was a tailor, killed on 
 the bench where he was seated at his daily 
 labour a poor inoffensive being, little sus 
 pecting, and perhaps still less prepared, for so 
 awful a change. The next was the worthy 
 doctor himself who had entirely devoted the 
 last ten years of his life to the instruction of 
 those very savages who were now about to 
 reward him so cruelly. This instruction, I 
 ought to remark, had consisted not only in the 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 113 
 
 principles of Christianity, but in the tillage of 
 the soil, the value of which had long been 
 proved by their abundant harvest. Alas for 
 him, that he had laboured in vain in the cul 
 ture of their wretched souls ; and let us hope 
 that he will meet his reward in heaven ! 
 
 He was seated at a desk writing 1 when he 
 heard the yell of the murderers, and going to 
 the door, received his first wound. He did 
 not for an instant lose his composure, but 
 calmly returning into the house, drew a chair 
 towards the fire, and sat down, his hands 
 clasped together in prayer, resigned to what 
 ever fate might await him. During this brief 
 interval, the bloody work was going on out 
 side, and the good kind-hearted Mrs. Whit 
 man, who was upstairs, and had rushed to 
 the window on hearing the report of fire 
 arms, had instantly received, from one 
 wretched miscreant, a ball in her breast. 
 Bleeding profusely, she hastily descended to 
 her husband's room, and, embracing him, 
 began to wipe with her handkerchief the 
 blood that was trickling from his wounds. 
 He fondly returned the caresses of her who, 
 
 i 
 
114 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 for the last fifteen years, had been the devoted 
 partner of his joys and sorrows in the missionary 
 field, and who in this last dark hour proved 
 herself the same affectionate wife, regardless 
 of her own suffering's, and only thinking- of 
 affording- relief to her beloved husband. To 
 him what a truly melancholy consolation must 
 the conduct of such a wife have been : she in a 
 dying- state herself, yet solely intent upon his 
 comfort ! Thus embraced, and perfectly re 
 signed to their fate, the blood-thirsty wretches, 
 armed with guns and axes, rushed into the 
 room, and they were instantly torn asunder 
 never more to meet in this world. The chief, with 
 his axe, so mutilated the face and head of the 
 worthy doctor, that he soon ceased to suffer. 
 The fate of Mrs. Whitman was still more 
 cruel ; she was thrown down, and dragged by 
 the hair of her head into the mud, where, with 
 blows and kicks, the inhuman monsters termi 
 nated her existence. 
 
 The heart sickens at the recital of such 
 horrid brutality, and gladly would I draw a 
 veil over the remainder of the narrative. Let 
 me, at least, relieve it of some portion of its 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 115 
 
 horror, by a few words on the character of the 
 worthy doctor and his amiable wife. Indeed 
 it would be ungenerous in me, having 1 been for 
 many years acquainted with both, were I not 
 to pay a just tribute to their worth. He was, 
 indeed, an honest, upright, and benevolent 
 man and perhaps there never was one more 
 devoted and zealous in the missionary cause, 
 which had been his study from early years, 
 and was now the sole and constant subject of 
 his thoughts. So anxious was he to prosecute 
 his labours to a successful issue, and so san 
 guine of at last overcoming all difficulties, 
 that although his health was considerably im 
 paired of late, and he had been warned by the 
 Indians to leave the place, nothing could 
 divert him from his purpose, and much less 
 their threats, which had lately convinced him 
 that those for whom he had made so many 
 sacrifices were capable of rewarding him with 
 a cruel death. Such was the brave-hearted 
 missionary himself 5 and now, would that my 
 pen could do justice to the character of the 
 good and kind-hearted Mrs. Whitman ! In 
 her, it may truly be said, that the orphans 
 
116 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 found a protector and a mother, for she had no 
 less than nine under her care at this very time ; 
 and these she not only educated, but taught 
 the various duties that in after life would prove 
 beneficial and advantageous to them. Often, 
 since this melancholy catastrophe, have I heard 
 these poor creatures deploring-, with plenteous 
 tears, the loss of those who had been to them as 
 father and mother. I could say much in illus 
 tration of the character of this amiable, and may 
 I add, heroic woman ? As a wife, it was her 
 highest delight to anticipate not only the wants 
 of her husband, but of all who visited her hospi 
 table mansion, which pleasure I often had. The 
 last sad scene, however, is the most convincing 
 proof of her fond and devoted attachment 
 to her husband. May we not hope that they 
 will be re-united in heaven ? Peace to their 
 memory ! they indeed deserved a better fate. 
 
 To return to the scene from which these 
 reflections have happily diverted us a short 
 time. The next victim was Dr. Whitman's 
 assistant, who, as several eye-witnesses have 
 alleged, not only implored the Indians to 
 spare him, but acknowledged it was too true 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 117 
 
 that the doctor had administered poison to kill 
 them, thereby confirming 1 all that the base 
 wretch Louis had said, to urge them to these 
 horrid crimes. It is sad to think with what 
 tenacity men will cling 1 to life, and what base 
 expedients they will often resort to in the for 
 lorn hope of preserving it. Although a stranger 
 to me, I am yet confident, from his well-known 
 character, that this unhappy man had no other 
 motive; and if the allegation be true, this 
 subterfuge afforded him only a temporary re 
 spite. After making this admission, the 
 savages promised to spare his life, and left 
 him. A few minutes after, however, an 
 Indian, who was at some distance when the 
 promise was made, and was not aware of it, 
 came up with him, and in another moment 
 his earthly career was ended. 
 
 While these scenes were enacting-, two 
 Americans who had concealed themselves 
 managed to effect their escape one with his 
 family, consisting of a wife and four children. 
 This little party took the road to the Company's 
 establishment; but the poor woman, having 
 just risen from a bed of sickness, soon became 
 
118 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 too faint and exhausted to follow ; she, there 
 fore, entreated her husband to save her chil 
 dren, and leave her to her fate. As there was 
 a ray of hope that all might he preserved, he 
 carefully concealed her with three of the chil 
 dren in the bushes, and taking- one in his arms, 
 succeeded in reaching 1 the fort, a distance of 
 twenty-five miles, in safety. No time was lost 
 by the gentlemen in charge there, in sending 
 relief and assistance to the poor woman ; but 
 strange to relate, after a search of two days, 
 the husband despaired of finding- her, and con 
 cluded that she was lost to him for ever, sup 
 posing* they had been discovered and murdered 
 by the Indians. He was on the eve of aban 
 doning- his search, but a friendly Indian, who 
 had accompanied him from the fort, was far 
 from losing- all hope, probably knowing- from 
 experience, that if she had been discovered 
 and murdered, some vestig-es of the deed would 
 yet be apparent. In short, he renewed the 
 search, and succeeded in finding- the now 
 almost lifeless woman, lying- concealed with 
 her children in the very spot where they had 
 been left, with scarcely any covering, and 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 119 
 
 without food or fire to keep them warm : in 
 which deplorable state they had now remained 
 four days and nights. The whole party 
 reached the fort in safety, and it is gratifying 
 to add, that the woman, though confined to her 
 bed for some three weeks, was restored to 
 health, and to her friends. The other American 
 escaped by following, in his wounded state, a 
 mark which he struck upon by mere chance, and 
 which led him, by a course of two hundred 
 miles, to the Clear water mission, where he had 
 never been before, and which he reached after 
 six days and nights travelling, though without 
 food. In these escapes we have additional 
 evidence of the extraordinary exertions and 
 sufferings in many instances surpassing 
 belief which the human frame will bear, 
 rather than yield its precious life. 
 
 After Mr. Eodgers had fallen, and the two 
 surviving Americans had thus baffled pursuit, 
 or escaped unnoticed, there remained but the 
 now desolate women and children, who had 
 been eye-witnesses of the massacre of their 
 husbands and fathers. The number of these 
 unfortunates exceeded fifty, and my readers 
 
120 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 must imagine the state of their feeling's at the 
 time, and the severity of the trial they under 
 went. Their lives, indeed, were spared them, 
 hut three of the young- women were reserved 
 for a more cruel fate, over which I must draw 
 a veil. The other women and children were 
 detained in captivity, and doomed by their 
 cruel masters to toil day and nig-ht, until all of 
 them, including- the three women ahove men 
 tioned, were fortunately released, and restored 
 to their friends, with the exception, however, 
 of three children, who had died. During- this 
 period a long interval to them of nearly a 
 month they were suffering- every indig-nity, 
 and being- threatened with death, fear deprived 
 them of their rest. They were at the same 
 time abundantly supplied with food by the 
 Indians, which, indeed, was from their own 
 stock, but they could have easily been deprived 
 of it, and of their lives also. The object of 
 these wretches in detaining- them was to pro 
 cure a ransom, and having- their victims so 
 completely in their power, they too well suc 
 ceeded. Late one evening*, the poor captives 
 reached the Company's establishment, strong-ly 
 
THE BLOODY TEAGEDY. 
 
 guarded by not less than forty Indians, each of 
 whom had some claim to make which dire 
 necessity compelled us to satisfy. Such was 
 the terror and nervous prostration to which 
 they had been reduced, that although every 
 comfort which the slender means of the estab 
 lishment could supply had been prepared for 
 them, it was many days before they could feel 
 satisfied of their escape from the thraldom of 
 their persecutors. 
 
 Another incident worthy of record in this 
 tragical history, was the almost miraculous 
 escape of the Rev. Mr. Spalding, for which, 
 indeed, he was indebted to the timely aid and 
 advice of the Rev. Mr. Brouillet, of the Ro 
 man Catholic Mission. The former gentleman 
 was on his return from the Umitalla River, 
 where he had been to visit the sick, and when 
 within a short distance of the mission at Wai- 
 let-pu, where his arrival was hourly expected 
 by the Indians, he was happy enough to meet 
 the Rev. Mr. Brouillet, who had just left the 
 scene of bloodshed. He had gone there, it 
 appears, to administer baptism to two children, 
 and the reader may judge what his surprise, 
 
122 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 and the state of his feelings must have been 
 to find the bodies of twelve of his fellow- 
 creatures so shockingly mutilated, and lying 
 like dogs in the mud and dirt, with scarcely 
 any covering. With the assistance of his in 
 terpreter^ he dug one grave for all, and having 
 procured shrouds, he had the satisfaction and 
 a melancholy one it must have been of render 
 ing them the last kind office that one mortal 
 owes to another, and which, had they not for 
 tunately gone there, would have been denied 
 by the cruel murderers. Had their remains 
 been exposed one night longer, they would 
 have become a prey to wolves and dogs ; but 
 they were now spared this last indignity that 
 could possibly have been inflicted on them. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Brouillet was returning from 
 the performance of this duty, being accom 
 panied by his interpreter, and an Indian, who 
 had evil designs on Mr. Spalding, when they 
 met the latter about six miles from the mis 
 sion. On this, they all came to a stand, and 
 it required some presence of mind on the part 
 of Mr. Brouillet to warn Mr. Spalding of his 
 danger, without creating any suspicion in the 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 
 
 mind of the Indian whereby he would have en 
 dangered his own life, without securing' his 
 object. He ordered the interpreter to stop and 
 light his pipe ; and by the same ruse detained 
 the Indian in the rear to strike fire. The two 
 divines proceeding- on in company, Mr. Spalding- 
 was soon made acquainted with the particulars 
 of the late occurrence, and strongly advised to 
 escape ; his Catholic friend assisting him from 
 his own small stock of provisions. This advice 
 was acted upon in the same haste that it was 
 given : there was no time for deliberation ; his 
 life was at stake j and in an instant he left the 
 trail, and proceeded towards the mountains. 
 Mr. Brouillet meanwhile made all despatch to 
 reach his own mission, and when almost within 
 sig'ht of it, the Indian interpreter overtook 
 him. The former, finding- Mr. Spalding- no 
 long-er in company, cast a savag-e and threat 
 ening- look on Mr. Brouillet, and immediately 
 retraced his steps in pursuit of his victim. 
 Fortunately, a dense fog-, and, presently after 
 wards, the darkness of nig-ht coming- on, frus 
 trated his evil desig-ns, and thus the life of Mr. 
 Spalding- was preserved to his wife and family, 
 
124 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 whom he rejoined at Clear water, after wander 
 ing' for six days and nights among 1 the moun 
 tains, losing his horse and provisions, and at 
 last reaching home barefoot. 
 
 Would that I might now close this melan 
 choly narrative, hut the fate of two .Americans 
 stationed at the Grist Mill, twenty miles from 
 the mission, must not be omitted. Although 
 six days had elapsed since the destruction of 
 the Wai-let-pu Mission, and more than suffi 
 cient time for the ruthless perpetrators of these 
 crimes to have reflected on their enormity, 
 their thirst for blood was unsatisfied. Dis 
 covering the forlorn situation of these two men, 
 who were then lying sick and helpless in their 
 beds, the cowards resolved on their destruction, 
 first advancing slowly towards them, lest they 
 should have any weapons of defence at their 
 command. This was not the case; on the con 
 trary, they were implored by both to spare 
 their lives ; but mercy was a stranger to their 
 bosoms, and in another instant the assassins ut 
 tered a horrid yell, and left the place, their knives 
 and hands covered with the blood of their victims. 
 They were the last who fell in this bloody tragedy. 
 
THE BLOODY TRAGEDY. 125 
 
 fc Revenge is sweet ! " May it fall on them 
 tenfold, for richly do they deserve it ! The 
 sole extenuating- circumstance, that of being 
 urged on to the commission of then* horrid 
 crimes by the bad and ungrateful wretch 
 Louis, can never justify them in so cruelly 
 murdering their benefactor, who had sacrificed 
 his health to promote their happiness in this 
 world, and their hopes of the same boon in the 
 next. Far less would it justify them in num 
 bering among their victims the benevolent 
 Mrs. Whitman, and twelve others, who indeed 
 were deserving of a less cruel fate than that 
 which my pen has faithfully recorded. 
 
126 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BURNING OF THE DEAD. 
 
 IN the autumn of 1835 I was strolling- on the 
 banks of Stuart's Lake, anxiously looking- out 
 for the arrival of our annual Canada express, 
 which was now momentarily expected j my 
 thoug-hts occupied, as may easily be imagined, 
 with many and sometimes sad reflections on 
 the nature of the intelligence that would so 
 soon reach us. Of how many dear relations 
 and friends mig-ht not death have deprived me 
 during- the lapse of the long- year since last I 
 heard of their welfare ; and what important 
 chang-es in the political world mig-ht not have 
 taken place, affecting- the interests of that coun 
 try, and of those dear friends, at all times 
 present to the mind of a poor, secluded exile ! 
 
THE BURNING OF THE DEAD. 127 
 
 The sombre and thick-coming- fancies in 
 which I indulged, were suddenly interrupted 
 by a succession of harrowing- screams which 
 issued from a neighbouring thicket of pines. 
 Although unarmed, I rushed forward to ascer 
 tain the cause ; personal security on such an 
 occasion being- a secondary consideration, and 
 indeed at all times little reg-arded by me, who, 
 by placing- my trust on Him above, have so 
 often been, I may say miraculously preserved 
 in the many perils I have undergone. I had 
 not penetrated far into the wood, when I un 
 expectedly found myself in the midst of an 
 assembly consisting of not fewer than a hun 
 dred swarthy Indians of both sexes, whose na 
 turally savage countenances presented at this 
 moment, begrimed as they were with a com 
 position of fish-oil and charcoal, an appearance 
 more than usually revolting. Guns, axes, and 
 clubs, appeared in the hands of some, while 
 bright daggers glistened, as they moved, from 
 beneath the blankets of others. My surprise 
 at finding myself suddenly in the midst of so 
 rude an assembly was at least equalled by the 
 astonishment evinced by the savages them- 
 
128 TKAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 selves j for, on such occasions as the present, 
 which I speedily discovered to be for the pur 
 pose of consuming- a dead body by fire, stran 
 gers are never invited, and seldom venture to 
 intrude. 
 
 Recovering- from my momentary surprise, 
 and looking- hastily around me, I perceived 
 the corpse of an Indian, a young man of the 
 villag-e, recently deceased, stretched on the 
 ground in the midst of a knot of mourners. 
 It was in a state of perfect nudity; and, 
 from the protracted illness which had preceded 
 death, seemed to be reduced to a mere skele 
 ton. Its head' was supported on the knees of 
 an individual whom I conjectured to be the 
 widowed wife, although her form was so 
 shrouded by the folds of a ragged blanket, and 
 by the persons of the bystanders, that it was 
 impossible to say, with any certainty, even to 
 what sex the sad and silent mourner might 
 belong. Close to the corpse lay a quantity of 
 dry fir a wood in its very nature inflammable, 
 and in the present instance rendered so in a 
 tenfold degree by being reduced to thin splin 
 ters. 
 
THE BURNING OF THE DEAD. 129 
 
 The observation of a few moments had 
 served to make me acquainted with these par 
 ticulars, and to urge further my curiosity, 
 excited, before now, by the accounts I had heard 
 of the barbarities exercised on these occasions, 
 more especially towards the women. My pre 
 sence, however, had served to put an effectual 
 stop to their proceeding's, and I began to think 
 that the ceremony would be deferred. Un 
 willing to lose such a favourable opportunity 
 of gratifying my curiosity, I showed no dis 
 position to retire, not even when three elderly 
 men advanced towards me, and intimated, in a 
 manner which there was no misunderstanding, 
 their desire that I should do so. I was re 
 solved, in short, unless they should have re 
 course to force, not to relinquish my position, 
 and therefore made signs that they should pro 
 ceed with their ceremony, which I had no wish 
 to interrupt. 
 
 Upon this they doggedly withdrew, and 
 a vociferous consultation, accompanied with 
 much savage gesticulation, ensued, in which 
 the women bore a prominent part, smothering* 
 with their shrill unearthly screams the more 
 
 K 
 
130 TKAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 deeply intonated cacophany of their lords and 
 masters. 
 
 I may remark here that motives of human 
 ity had induced myself, and the other g-entle- 
 men stationed in this district, to endeavour all 
 we could to abolish the barbarous practice of 
 burning- the dead, which seems to hold its 
 ground more tenaciously in these parts than 
 anywhere else in the interior of the continent. 
 On the north-western coast, indeed, it is still 
 in vog-ue, but during 1 my residence of five 
 years in that quarter, it was gTadually de 
 creasing- in frequency ; and they had, to my 
 knowledg-e, on several occasions adopted the 
 European mode of burial. In Western 
 Caledonia, too, to the great benefit of those 
 concerned, the civilized mode of interment is 
 g-aining- ground, for in 1835, out of eleven 
 deaths which came under my notice, five 
 bodies only were disposed of by burning* and 
 in the two succeeding- years three out of five 
 were decently interred. It is here, as else 
 where, with the old people, rather than the 
 younger g-eneration, that most difficulty occurs 
 when practices more cong-enial with the spirit 
 
THE BURNING OF THE DEAD. 131 
 
 of humanity are presented for their adoption. 
 The former are most tenacious of their here 
 ditary laws and customs, assigning 1 when 
 urged for a reason, that they are too old to 
 deviate from the path followed by their fore 
 fathers. In this, and many other respects, the 
 Carriers are the most superstitious tribe of 
 Indians I ever met with. 
 
 But to revert from this digression, and pro 
 ceed with my revolting narrative. The issue 
 of the noisy consultation among the natives 
 seemed to be favourable to the continuance of 
 the ceremony. The doleful howlings which 
 my appearance had interrupted, recommenced, 
 and I was advised to keep a respectful dis 
 tance, as the danger of too near approach was 
 imminent. This, however, did not affect 
 my resolution to remain, and I accordingly 
 secured myself a favourable position for wit 
 nessing the proceedings. 
 
 The near relations of the deceased now 
 commenced erecting the funeral pyre. This 
 was done by laying alternately transverse 
 layers of the split wood before alluded to, 
 till the pile attained the height of about 
 
132 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 four feet, being 1 at the same time of a corre 
 sponding- breadth, and more than six feet in 
 length. On the top of the whole was placed 
 the attenuated corpse to be consumed, on 
 which were presently showered down offerings 
 innumerable from the bystanders, in the 
 shape of blankets, shirts, coats, and indeed 
 property of every description, the whole in 
 tended as a holocaust, propitiatory of the 
 wandering- spirit. 
 
 Meanwhile I had an opportunity of more 
 narrowly observing- the person and demeanour 
 of the unfortunate widow, for whose suffering's 
 now in prospect, every feeling- of sympathy 
 was excited in my mind. She was of youth 
 ful appearance, not more than eighteen years 
 of age, and as far as I could judge through 
 the disgusting fucus with which her face 
 was besmeared, comparatively handsome. Her 
 youth, the sorrow, feigned or real, depicted 
 in her features, and the air of resignation 
 exhibited by her whole figure, prepossessed 
 me warmly in her favour, and from my 
 heart I exclaimed, Alas! poor unfortunate, 
 your troubles commence early in life : may 
 
THE BURNING OF THE DEAD. 133 
 
 they weigh lightly on you ! She advanced, 
 and took her place at the head of the pyre, 
 there to await the progress of events. 
 
 It was soon evident to me that every one 
 stood on his guard, for it frequently happens 
 on these occasions that the relations of the 
 deceased revenge his death on some unfor 
 tunate being, suspected of being its cause } 
 not by direct agency, but through the mys 
 tical power which they ascribe to the object of 
 their suspicion, under the phrase, being strong 
 in medicine. These mutual misgivings seemed 
 to increase at the moment when the mother 
 of the defunct advanced towards the pile 
 with a lighted faggot. The screams and 
 gesticulations of the savage crowd redoubled 
 in energy, and all rushed to take, as it 
 were, one parting look at the earthly remains 
 of their countryman. In an instant, the whole 
 pile was in a blaze, and such was the sickening 
 sensation it occasioned to me, that I was 
 almost inclined to withdraw, with my curiosity 
 only half satisfied. 
 
 And now, as the flames flickered in fantastic 
 shapes and ghastly colours over the blazing 
 
134 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 pyre, commenced the suffering's of the poor 
 widowed victim. The husband's relations vied 
 with each other in the infliction of their 
 diabolical tortures, while those of the wife 
 stood silently apart, stoically witnessing- the 
 whole scene of barbarity, nor once stretching 1 
 out a hand to avert a single blow from the 
 poor sufferer. It was with difficulty that I 
 could restrain the ebullition of my feeling's, 
 but how much more did I require all my 
 self-command when the poor wretch was flung- 
 violently among- the flames. She fell back 
 wards, sing-ed and scorched, and only strug-g-led 
 forward into the cool air to be ag-ain and ag*ain 
 subject to this exquisite torture, and ever at 
 the instig-ation of her diabolical mother-in-law, 
 who urg-ed her party to the act. While this 
 tragical scene was enacting-, the poor wretch 
 was upbraided by her tormentors with fifty 
 imaginary offences ag-ainst connubial propriet} r , 
 which, I was afterwards informed, had not the 
 slig-htest foundation in truth. At length, ex 
 hausted with the dreadful tortures to which she 
 had been subjected, their victim fell prostrate 
 and nearly lifeless on the grass, a low moaning- 
 
THE BUKNING OF THE DEAD. 135 
 
 sound being- the only indication that the spirit 
 had not already departed from its earthly 
 tenement. I was congratulating myself that 
 I had witnessed the last act of cruelty, when 
 suddenly the demoniacal mother-in-law, raised 
 to a perfect frenzy of excitement, seized an 
 axe, and rushing- like a fiend on the hapless 
 object of her wrath, inflicted a serious wound 
 on her shoulders. This sudden relapse of 
 malice was more than I could bear, already in 
 a state of feverish excitement from the pro 
 tracted tortures I had witnessed. Spring-ing* 
 forward, I wrested the weapon from the hands 
 of the old woman, whom I flung- violently 
 aside. Perhaps it was fortunate for me that 
 veng-eance had been fully glutted ; no further 
 attempt was now made to injure the unfor 
 tunate widow, who lay senseless and bleeding- 
 beside the still blazing embers of the pyre. 
 
 During- the twenty minutes which had been 
 thus fearfully occupied, the body was consumed 
 to ashes. Howling-s, screams, lamentations, 
 had continued uninterrupted the while, but 
 now every voice was hushed, and all but the 
 nearest relations of the deceased had retired 
 
136 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 from the spot. These last sat silently eyeing 
 the now dying embers, and when the fire was 
 extinct, they collected the ashes and uncon- 
 sumed fragments of hones, which they care 
 fully wrapped up, and then one by one de 
 parted. The widow, helpless, exhausted, as 
 she was, had been left alone on the ground the 
 night through, but her sister humanely kept 
 her company. 
 
 By the laws of the Carriers, the widow is 
 made to carry the ashes of her husband until 
 the final inurning, and during" this interval, 
 sometimes of two or three years, she remains a 
 slave to his nearest of kin. At her eman 
 cipation, when the ashes are disposed of, a 
 grand feast is given, the materials of which 
 are furnished by all the connections of the de 
 ceased. This ceremony over, the widow is at 
 liberty to enter the connubial state again 
 should she be so inclined ; with the prospect 
 of a repetition of her suffering's hanging* in 
 terrorem over her head, should it be her lot to 
 undergo a second widowhood. 
 
INTERMITTENT FEVER. 137 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 INTERMITTENT FEVER. 
 
 HISTORICAL documents have made us ac 
 quainted with the fact that the human race 
 have been afflicted with more or less deadly 
 pestilences from time immemorial ; and a pe 
 rusal of the records which detail the suffering's 
 incidental to some of these supposed testi 
 monials of the divine wrath is inexpressibly 
 harrowing- to the feeling's. This is more parti 
 cularly the case in all probability because we 
 are best acquainted with its circumstances 
 with that of London in the year 1666, by 
 which some sixty or seventy thousand persons 
 were swept away in a few months ; the utmost 
 skill of man, according- to the knowledg-e and 
 experience of the age, being- vainly opposed to 
 
138 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 its ravages. The yellow fever of America, 
 and the plague which continually manifests 
 itself in the Levant, and all along* the Gre 
 cian Archipelago, would furnish, perhaps, 
 many scenes equally distressing* to those who 
 sympathize with the sufferings of their fellow- 
 creatures ; while it is well known what deadly 
 havoc has been caused in most parts of the 
 world, by the periodical visits of the cholera 
 morbus. To these and similar instances, 
 I am able to add the following brief memorial 
 of a scene of suffering which came under my 
 own notice a few years ago. 
 
 K-eturning to Fort Vancouver on the 
 Columbia, after a short absence in the autumn 
 of 1830, 1 found a few of the servants suffering 
 under an attack of intermittent fever. Two 
 medical men being* resident there at the time, 
 its first appearance caused no serious appre 
 hension to those in health. But some alarm 
 began to arise when it was found that, instead 
 of disappearing before the remedies applied, the 
 malady fast increased both in virulence and 
 extent. In twenty days after the first 
 symptoms of its appearance, the whole garri- 
 
INTERMITTENT FEVER. 139 
 
 ; with the exception of two, amounting 1 in 
 all to five gentlemen and eighty servants, had 
 successively undergone the ordeal, and still 
 remained subject to the influence of this pesti 
 lential fever. Those who remained in health, 
 were, of course, unable to attend properly to 
 so many invalids, and this increased the incon 
 venience under which both men and officers 
 suffered in common. The annual ship soon 
 after arrived from London, bringing* a season 
 able supply of medicines, the recent demand 
 for bark and other tonics having speedily 
 exhausted the limited stock we possessed. 
 Other assistance it was soon out of their power 
 to render us, the new comers being presently 
 attacked in a similar manner to ourselves, and 
 confined with a single exception to their beds. 
 The sufferings of all under these circumstances 
 were necessarily severe, and attended with 
 much serious inconvenience ; yet thanks to the 
 remedies thus provided us, and other wise 
 measures by which the virulence of the dis 
 ease was mitigated, few deaths occurred in the 
 garrison. 
 
 Such was the visitation as we experienced it \ 
 
140 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 but with the native population, alas ! the case 
 was different. Who shall describe the suffering's 
 of these unsophisticated children of the wilder 
 ness 5 or who depict the forlorn condition they 
 exhibited while subject to such a scourge? 
 Let others, if they will, essay the task ; for 
 myself I despair of doing- it justice, thoug-h the 
 scene is imprinted on my memory with a dis 
 tinctness which actual observation alone could 
 communicate. A few words, however, may 
 serve as a memento of this sad event, however 
 inadequate to express its fearful reality. 
 
 In close contig-uity with our clearances was 
 a villag-e containing- about sixty families of In 
 dians ; a few miles lower down was a second, 
 of at least equal population. These villages, 
 before the fell visitation I have mentioned, 
 resounded with the hum of voices ; smiling- on 
 the shores of the mag-nificent Columbia, they 
 refreshed the eyes of the lone traveller, wearied 
 with the unbroken monotony of woods and 
 waters, in the same measure as the brig-ht 
 strand of a newly discovered island raises the 
 sinking- spirits of some forlorn wanderer on 
 the deep. Here, if the wayfarer could not 
 
INTERMITTENT FEVER. 141 
 
 command the artificial comforts of the Euro 
 pean hostel, the wants of nature were at least 
 cheerfully supplied ; and the hireling- smiles of 
 mine host, easily forg-otten in the cheer of an 
 Indian welcome! In this sequestered spot, 
 seated on some rude turfy knoll, was it matter 
 of pleasant contemplation to witness the even 
 ing- pastimes of the simple villagers . The 
 lively g-amhols of the children ; the more stir 
 ring- g-ames of the youths ; the sober gravity 
 of manhood, and the doting- g-arrulity of old 
 ag-e human nature, in short, here as else 
 where, affected the hearts of all who were not 
 callous to these finer impressions. 
 
 Such was the scene I had often wit 
 nessed when visiting- these hamlets. A short 
 month had passed away ; the shadow of 
 death on the wing- had just fallen upon our 
 little community, and passed by ; and now, as 
 I drew near the well-remembered lodg-es, how 
 different were the feelings I experienced ! All, 
 all was chang-ed. Silence reigned where erst 
 the din of population resounded loud and 
 lively. No voice of young- or old to awake 
 the echoes of the neighbouring- woods. Alas ! 
 
142 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 where are they who not long- since peopled 
 this deserted spot? Where are they disap 
 peared ? Let these unburied carcasses resolve 
 the question ; these torn and mangled corpses, 
 say wherefore. Why linger those foul birds 
 around the spot, gorged, and scarcely noticing 
 my presence ? yon wolf, who eyes askant 
 the wretched scene, and revels in the ideal 
 enjoyment of his interrupted banquet? The 
 death-like silence around me, the fell vestiges 
 of a sad calamity which I descry the loathsome 
 remains of mortality which alone indicate what 
 was once the scene of life and vigour are my 
 only answer. These speak louder than words, 
 more than volumes ; they tell me with awful 
 distinctness that here, where the voice of 
 laughter, and the rude Indian chant, have so 
 often made my heart glad, the fever-ghoul has 
 wreaked his most dire vengeance j to the utter 
 destruction of every human inhabitant. 
 
 It may be inquired how such fatal effects 
 arose from a cause not generally productive of 
 them. This may be easily accounted for in 
 the trust which these poor, deluded savages 
 reposed in the juggling mountebanks with 
 
INTERMITTENT FEVER. 
 
 whom the science therapeutic solely rests 
 among* them and their total neglect of the 
 precautions that were recommended by us for 
 their adoption. Maddened by fever, they 
 would rush headlong- into the cooling- stream, 
 where, in search of relief, they found only the 
 g'erms of dissolution. 
 
 Dreading- lest the putrified remains of the 
 dead should occasion some more dreadful pes 
 tilence, we proceeded forthwith to remove 
 them. But, as this would have been a work 
 of much labour, besides being- inexpressibly 
 disgusting-, it was resolved to consume them 
 by the most purifying- of all elements. Ac 
 cordingly, they were collected in heaps, and 
 the whole point of wood where they lay set on 
 fire. Upon this occasion one poor old man 
 who had retired among the branches to repose 
 himself probably the only survivor of all the 
 inhabitants of the nearest villag-e narrowly 
 escaped a more cruel death than his friends 
 and kinsmen. Too weak to extricate himself 
 from the wood, it was only by his cries that 
 we learned the fact of his existence, and could 
 discover the spot where he was concealed. 
 
144 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 Though preserved from a fate which it is 
 dreadful to contemplate, his life had only a 
 short respite; for, op x the morrow, wasted to 
 death through neglect and sickness, he 
 breathed his last. This was the last case of a 
 fatal nature which fell under my notice, and 
 certainly the measure of horror was full to the 
 brim, and without any further addition to cause 
 its overflow. 
 
 It was not till the month of November that 
 the symptoms which incommoded the garrison 
 began to abate, and another month elapsed ere 
 they had entirely disappeared. They have 
 since occasionally manifested themselves among 
 the whites, as well as the native population of 
 the lower villages; but the result has never 
 been so fatal as the first appearance of the 
 fever. Much inconvenience/ however, arises 
 from it; and I may instance the case of a 
 
 party under Mr. W , who were attacked 
 
 by this disease on their way from the Rio 
 Sacramento, when two of his men fell victims 
 to it, and the remainder with difficulty reached 
 Fort Vancouver, and that only after assistance, 
 both of men and medicines, had been sent to 
 
INTERMITTENT FEVER. 145 
 
 them. Two years previously, I had myself 
 visited the Sacramento, but saw nothing* of 
 
 any general sickness. Mr. W , however, 
 
 had found the intermittent fever raging- among 
 the natives ; and, seeing that his whole party 
 underwent its ordeal, it was in one respect a 
 fortunate circumstance that it was not confined 
 to them, since, had the natives heen in their 
 wonted good health, it is probable that an 
 expedition thus weakened would have fallen a 
 sacrifice to their vindictive treachery. 
 
 It is a question of some interest where 
 this epidemic had its first origin j and upon 
 the whole I have little doubt that it came 
 from the direction of the Spanish settlements ; 
 for, in the country north of the Columbia, it 
 has hitherto not made its appearance ; though 
 still flickering about the lower parts of that 
 river. To suppose it contagious from per 
 sonal contact would be very erroneous, since it 
 doubtless proceeds from miasmata pervading 
 the atmosphere, whose virulent qualities are 
 elicited only by certain coincident circumstances 
 of local origin. 
 
 After all, perhaps, the most plausible mode 
 
146 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of accounting for the generation of this malady 
 is, to attribute it entirely to foul exhalations 
 from low and humid situations ; though even to 
 this supposition there are objections which it is 
 difficult to overcome, and which tend to sub 
 vert every preconceived theory on the subject. 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 147 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 
 
 THE native village of Stellah is situated some 
 twenty miles from our establishment, at the 
 west end of Frazer's Lake, by the confluence 
 of a stream which flows into it at this spot 
 from the French Lake. Here, at the repeated 
 solicitation of Hanayah, the Carrier chief, I 
 consented to grace a festival which he was 
 about to give to his friends and neighbours, 
 with my own lordly presence. Though hardly 
 persuaded to this act of condescension, I may 
 whisper in the reader's ear, that Hanayah's re 
 quest had in reality coincided with my own 
 inclinations from the first : my desire being to 
 acquire a more intimate knowledge of our rude 
 
148 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 neighbours from their living manners. I had 
 feigned reluctance, however, in order to en 
 hance the merit of complying with the chiefs 
 wishes. 
 
 I shall attempt to describe what I witnessed 
 on this occasion, with as much accuracy as the 
 impression left on my mind will permit, first 
 introducing to my reader's acquaintance, the 
 prime genius of the whole affair, my worthy 
 host, Mr. Hanayah. A little fellow, some 
 four feet ten inches in height, of spare make, 
 and bearing* on the whole a marvellous resem- 
 
 o 
 
 blance to that caricature of our species, an 
 ape, will hardly come up to the idea he has 
 probably formed of an Indian chief in his 
 own wilderness ; yet I cannot be g'uilty of 
 the gross flattery to describe him otherwise. 
 Endow this little comicality with a dash of 
 good humour, and the extra measure of self- 
 conceit which Dame Nature kindly allows 
 to little people in other climates besides 
 this in order, perhaps, to eke out their 
 stature and you have a pretty correct idea 
 of the promoter and leader of these intended 
 revels. 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 149 
 
 But contemptible as may be the opinion 
 which a mere personal description of this man 
 must create, it were unfair to deny him the 
 merit of maintaining 1 a very rig-id autho 
 rity among- his people. To obtain as well 
 as to preserve this influence, Hanayah had 
 adopted the plan of a most arbitrary sove- 
 reig-n, and addressed himself rather to the 
 fears than to the love of his subjects ; but with 
 this important difference from his civilized 
 prototypes, that his means of exciting- dread 
 were impalpable. Conscious enoug-h that he 
 could not boast of an "eye like Mars to 
 threaten and command/ 7 he wisely eschewed 
 any pretensions to the character of a brave, 
 for on this score he would have found plenty of 
 competitors to dispute the palm of superiority. 
 Like a skilful g-eneral, he went more cunningly 
 to work, and by aiming- at the superstition of his 
 followers, secured for himself exactly that kind 
 of respect which once on a time, had he lived 
 in enlightened England, would have g-ained him 
 the compliment of a faggot and a tar-barrel. 
 This g*ood man, in short, possessed the attribute 
 of the " evil eye" in all its perfection 5 was more- 
 
150 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 over a seer of undoubted pretensions and could 
 utter oracles like the Delphian Apollo. Is it 
 any wonder that Hanayah, with such trans- 
 cendant qualities, obtained the influence which 
 is justly allowed them in more polished 
 communities ? 
 
 Despatching- my tent and other necessaries 
 in a canoe, I rode to the scene of festivity on 
 horseback, attended by my interpreters, and 
 found a large concourse of Indians encamped 
 among the trees. Some of these were from Naut- 
 lais, others from the Babine's Lake, and not a 
 few from the borders of Simpson's River down 
 right scamps these last, and unattached to us 
 by the same commercial ties which secured the 
 goodwill of the rest. I was made welcome 
 with a fat beaver and some berries, set before 
 me in the lodge of my entertainer. This was 
 a spacious building, perhaps forty feet square, 
 having a small door at one end, and the ridge- 
 of the roof being left uncovered to permit the 
 egress of the smoke. Four posts, carved with 
 grotesque figures, supported the double ridge- 
 trees upon which the roofing--sticks rested- and a 
 thick covering of pine-bark effectually excluded 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 151 
 
 the heaviest showers. The sides of the build 
 ing 1 were formed with broad boards split from 
 the pine-trees, but no care was taken to join 
 them, or even to fix them solidly ; so that the 
 large interstices allowed free ingress to the 
 air a circumstance the less considered, as the 
 building was merely appropriated for summer 
 use. A general cleaning up had evidently 
 taken place in anticipation of the usual con 
 course of guests j and saving a few bundles of 
 property and utensils pitched against the sides 
 of the building, it exhibited none of the ordi 
 nary signs of habitation. 
 
 The feast was appointed to begin the next 
 morning, and, as my tent had meanwhile been 
 pitched, I retired to it, and was shortly visited 
 there by the whole body, gentle and simple, 
 of the assembled crowd. A few feet of tobacco 
 cut up and distributed, afforded a general 
 smoke, after which the rude levee retired, and 
 left me to my own reflections. I slept little 
 during the night, for the company assembled 
 in the vicinity, by gToups of twenty or thirty 
 together, kept up an incessant uproar till day 
 light. In fact, each of these assemblies main- 
 
162 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 tained a gambling- table, where all the passions 
 exhibited in the polite hells of St. James's 
 were exemplified in a more barbarous and no 
 less energetic manner. For some time I 
 amused myself with the observation of their 
 motions from a distance. The little fires by 
 which they sat, were kept continually blazing-, 
 and the lig-ht thus afforded enabled me to dis- 
 ting-uish the g-estures of the players without 
 difficulty ; the run of C( luck/' and the chang 
 ing passions of those engaged, being* often 
 indicated by the violence of their gesticula 
 tions, aided by a more emphatic intonation 
 of their wild song-. Some disputes occasion 
 ally arose which threatened serious quarrels, 
 but they were invariably arranged, after much 
 vociferous altercation, without leading the dis 
 putants to extremities. 
 
 I cannot help remarking, by way of paren 
 thesis, on that indomitable passion for play 
 which prevails among the aborigines of this 
 continent, and its singular coincidence with the 
 same propensity among polished nations. The 
 universal prevalence of this vice among the 
 natives, the excesses to which it sometimes 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 153 
 
 leads, the misery it causes, the unconquerable 
 hold it maintains upon the deluded wretch who 
 has once indulged in it, are as deplorable in 
 
 _ 
 
 the one case as the other. The trader far 
 away from home, in pity of the uninstructed, 
 unsophisticated^ and half -naked savages of 
 America, is induced for a moment to lament 
 their want of the civilized education of Europe 
 when he beholds them engaged in these de 
 grading orgies. Alas ! the next instant he 
 is only humiliated by the remembrance of 
 similar scenes in the most refined society. Go, 
 visit the magnificent temples of Mammon in 
 St. James's, or shift the scene to Paris, to 
 Amsterdam, or any other of the capitals of 
 Europe, and shall we not there find, despite of 
 book-learning and all the vaunted influences 
 of civilization, as much eagerness for the gains 
 of this detestable vice, as in the comfort 
 less lodge of the most barbarous savage? 
 Sad to think, it has its foundation in the 
 worst feelings of our nature, for its in 
 dulgence must invariably occasion as much 
 distress to the one party, as exultation to 
 the other. Selfishness every gradation, in 
 
154 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 short, of meanness is developed and per 
 sonified in this one accursed vice of our com 
 mon nature. 
 
 But I am digressing from my story, and 
 must either renounce such disquisitions or leave 
 my tale unfinished. After I had breakfasted, 
 of course in my own tent, Hanayah came to 
 usher me to his lodge, where the native guests 
 were already assembled. I was placed in a 
 position which commanded a view of the whole 
 assembly, my interpreter being accommodated 
 near me. The other guests were seated on the 
 ground, in rows, back to back, and, with the 
 exception of the vacancies preserved between 
 the rows, occupied the whole area of the lodge. 
 There were, perhaps, two hundred present. 
 Huge piles of dried meats, with vessels of 
 beards-grease and fish oil, besides quantities 
 of berry-cakes, were stowed up in the vacant 
 places, so as to leave barely room to pass and 
 re-pass. 
 
 At length, the important business of the day 
 commenced ; and even to me, who, from con 
 stant intercourse with the Indians, had learned 
 to conquer in some degree the delicacy ac- 
 
A WESTEKN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 155 
 
 quired during my youth, it was a most dis 
 gusting" exhibition. By way of commence 
 ment, Hanayah advanced and laid before me a 
 beaver. He then returned to his heap ; and, 
 seizing another in both hands, advanced to the 
 most dignified of his native guests, and squat 
 ting down, presented it to him, tail foremost. 
 Upon this, the honoured individual seized a 
 knife, and commenced forthwith an attack 
 upon the proffered morsel, which the chief con 
 tinued to hold with exemplary patience till the 
 guest had satisfied for the time his voracity. 
 The animal, thus despoiled of his fair propor 
 tions, was presented to another and yet an 
 other of the guests, the allotted portion always 
 diminishing with the rank or consideration in 
 which he might be held. When all were thus 
 served, a new course, attended with the like 
 ceremonies, at once began ; and so on till all the 
 provisions were exhausted. About a dozen 
 of his relations, all tributaries to the feast, 
 assisted the head man in the distribution of 
 the viands, the like etiquette being scrupu 
 lously observed by the whole. As the banquet 
 proceeded, I observed that the guests, without 
 
156 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 one decent exception, had amassed a large 
 heap of meats, all tossed " higgledy-piggledy " 
 into their dishes, together with a heteroge 
 neous compound of berries, bear's-grease, and 
 fish-oil. I mention these distinctions, but it 
 is quite clear they regarded everything as fish 
 that came to their nets. An utter contempt 
 of cleanliness prevailed on all hands, and it 
 was revolting to witness their voracious endea 
 vours to surpass each other in the gluttonous 
 contest. 
 
 When the stock of provisions was drawing 
 to a close, a circumstance occurred strikingly 
 illustrative of the brutish gluttony which may 
 almost be said to form a distinctive mark of 
 the Carriers. Hanayah, filling a large dish 
 with bear's oil, placed it before a Nautlay 
 Indian, named Kusmalah, saying, " Drink 
 this." From the tone of his expression, I 
 saw he was displeased, and was at a loss 
 to conjecture the cause ; but it was soon 
 explained. 
 
 " Wherefore this ? " said his surprised 
 guest. 
 
 " Who accused me last winter of eating all 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 157 
 
 my store of grease 1" rejoined Hanayah ; " I 
 have at least enough left to give you a sur 
 feit. Drink, drink ! I insist upon it. 9 ' 
 
 Poor Kusmalah, the " observed of all ob 
 servers/' reluctantly endeavoured to comply, 
 but nature was unequal to the task ; and 
 after swallowing- about one-half the contents 
 of the dish, he was constrained to set it 
 down. He then stripped off his coat and 
 threw it to Hanayah, thus purchasing exemp 
 tion from the further exaction of this strang-e' 
 penalty against evil-speaking 1 . 
 
 The same plan was adopted, with similar 
 results, in another instance ; and it appears 
 to be a standard maxim of Carrier etiquette 
 thus to punish backsliders from the truth, in 
 affairs such as the present. Need I say 
 more to illustrate 
 
 " The feast of reason and the flow of soul" 
 
 in which I was such an envied partaker at 
 this stately banquet ? 
 
 As the day was far advanced before the 
 company separated, and the ceremony of dis 
 tributing- the presents was deferred till the 
 
158 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 morrow, I retired to my tent, resolved on 
 waiting- another night to witness the conclu 
 sion of the festival. Shortly after dark, I 
 heard a great tumult in the chiefs lodge, 
 and was informed that the natives, of whom 
 a large party had assembled there, were quar 
 relling-. As blood is frequently shed at these 
 meeting-s, when the hereditary jealousies of 
 neighbouring- septs and families are sure to 
 manifest themselves, I deemed it right to 
 visit the scene of dispute, and, if possible, to 
 quell it. Summoning my interpreter, and 
 taking my sword in case of need, I pro 
 ceeded to the lodge. There was a large 
 assemblage of Indians, most of whom were 
 standing under arms, and eyeing each other 
 with an air of mutual defiance, while the 
 wordy war maintained between the rival par 
 ties bade fair to exasperate their feelings 
 to the utmost extremity. Seated upon the 
 ground, in the midst of the lodge, was 
 Hanayah, together with two other craftsmen 
 of the same art. Each of them wore a kind 
 of coronet formed of the inverted claws of 
 the grizzly bear, strung together in a circle, 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN FEAST. 159 
 
 the badge of the supernatural powers to which 
 they aspired. These worthies had been en 
 gaged in the exercise of the black art, as 
 they professed it, doubtless, to their mutual 
 edification, if not to the satisfaction of their 
 followers ; and it was in the course of their 
 dark proceedings that the disagreement had 
 arisen: a spectator, in short, having roundly 
 accused one of the learned trio of causing the 
 death of his father, an old man of fourscore 
 years recently deceased, through the pure de 
 cay of nature. This was the prime cause 
 of the disturbance \ and, having first drawn 
 attention to my presence, upon these hints 
 I spoke. To be brief, I gave them a round 
 scolding, and rated the whole of them soundly, 
 not even excepting the potent Hanayah him 
 self. The desired effect being attained, I then 
 removed to my tent, and threw myself down 
 till the morning, undisturbed by aught save 
 the musquitoes, which abound in summer 
 time. 
 
 The distribution of the presents next morn 
 ing was prefaced by a ceremony to which much 
 importance was attached. This was the pro- 
 
160 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 duction of such relics of the several defunct 
 members of Hanayah's family as the piety of 
 their relations had preserved, and which were 
 now to he consigned to the flames. These 
 were exhibited by the chief, each in turn, to 
 the spectators, while a passing mention was 
 made of their departed owners. Pots, pans, 
 knives, locks of hair any, the most insig 
 nificant trifle in fact served to recall the 
 memory of its onetime beloved possessor ; and 
 as each trifling memorial was produced, it was 
 affecting to hear the low murmuring plaint 
 which arose from mothers, from fathers, or 
 from children, as the departed objects of their 
 affection seemed once more to speak to their 
 hearts. Be the other attributes of the feast 
 low and unamiable as they may, the exhibition 
 of this simple outbreak of natural affection is 
 yet hallowed in my memory, and there, I 
 trust it will always remain enshrined with all 
 that is worthiest of human sympathy. It is a 
 gratification deep beyond measure to witness 
 among rude beings such as these, the excite 
 ment of those pure feelings of our nature 
 which remind us of our common origin, and 
 
A WESTERN CALEDONIAN] FEAST. 161 
 
 which, with ties indissoluble in all ages and in 
 all climates, still bind man to man. 
 
 The distribution of the presents occupied but 
 a short time. These consisted of blankets, 
 guns, kettles, capots, and other articles of 
 trade ; of which every one present at the feast 
 received his due share, that of the great men 
 exceeding- their inferiors in the proportion of 
 six or eight to one. For my own part, in 
 order to comply with the established etiquette, 
 I accepted a necklace of shells, valued among 
 the Indians at the rate of a large blanket, in 
 return for which I took care to make over to 
 Hanayah other articles more than equivalent 
 to what I received. In the course of the dis 
 tribution the number of blankets given by each 
 was accurately counted, and Hanayah's pro 
 portion amounted to fifty distinct articles. 
 This ceremony ended, a general rout ensued ; 
 each departing on his way without an instant's 
 delay. The native canoes might now be seen 
 setting off in all directions : in ten minutes 
 afterwards not a stranger was left on the 
 ground. 
 
 After a pleasant ride homewards I arrived 
 
 M 
 
162 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 at the fort, not too favourably impressed with 
 the delicacy of Carrier etiquette, but on the 
 whole gratified with what I had witnessed, 
 and revolving* in my mind the strange incon 
 sistencies of the world, whether displayed in 
 the saloons of a prince or the rude cabin of 
 a North American savag'e in Western Cale 
 donia. 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 163 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GREAT DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 
 
 AMONG the innumerable streams which inter 
 sect the American continent, and afford the 
 adventurous trader the means of a precarious 
 intercourse with its remoter regions, the 
 Columbia is pre-eminently conspicuous; not 
 only as being- one of the most important rivers 
 on the western side, but likewise for the perils 
 that attend its navigation beyond a certain dis 
 tance from the ocean. Meandering- throug-h a 
 desert region, often rendered more wild and 
 picturesque by the rude vestig-es of ancient 
 volcanic action which abound in it, the stream 
 is frequently interrupted in its peaceful course ; 
 rushing- along- in impetuous torrents over the 
 detached masses, or continued ridg-es of vol- 
 
164 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 canic rock by which its bed is obstructed. Of 
 these rapids one of the most dreaded at certain 
 periods, is the Dalles; distant about 160 miles 
 from the sea, and so called by the Canadian 
 voyager, in common with other places, where 
 a stream is straitened in by steep rocks, so as 
 to create a lengthened torrent of narrow 
 limits, but fearful strength, and rapidity. In 
 this particular place the river is parted into 
 a number of channels, separated from each 
 other by insulated tongues of rock, which rise 
 abruptly from the surface of the waters. Some 
 of these channels are navigable, though with 
 great risk even to the most expert boatmen, at 
 certain periods of the year : but in the summer 
 season, when the melting of the mountain 
 snows have swelled the flood beyond its ac 
 customed limits, most of them become un- 
 distinguishably blended together, and the 
 mighty waters roll along with irresistible fury. 
 When this occurs, even the most daring quail 
 before the perils of the navigation, and in fact 
 all enterprise of the kind is then considered at 
 an end. It may be supposed that the scene 
 on such occasions is indescribably majestic in 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 165 
 
 its character. The mighty torrent twirls, leaps, 
 and rebounds, as the rocky islets I have 
 alluded to, oppose its progress; while occa 
 sionally, as if by some instinctive impulse, a 
 sudden swell from behind, comes fairly break 
 ing- over the half- checked waves before it, as if 
 impatient of their dilatory and indecisive pro 
 gress. Along- the shores, on every advancing- 
 point of rock, the native fishermen station 
 themselves, sweeping- the eddies with lig'ht 
 ingeniously wroug-ht scoop nets, and thus 
 speedily procuring 1 an ample supply of the 
 brig-ht scaled salmon as they ascend. Seals, 
 attracted thither by the ascending- shoals, 
 swim triumphantly among- the whirlpools and 
 eddies, at the lower part ; sometimes floating- 
 supinely, with their heads above the billows, 
 and ag-ain darting- to and fro, either in sport, 
 or while pursuing- their scaly victims, with 
 admirable velocity. 
 
 It was in the summer of 1830 that I ar 
 rived at the Dalles on my return to Vancouver, 
 after an absence of eleven months, spent in 
 scouring- the prairies in quest of beaver. I had 
 a small party of trappers under my command, 
 
166 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 and having- left our horses at Walla Wala, 
 where a crazy hoat had heen furnished us, we 
 had reached thus far on our descent, without 
 an accident of any moment, and in eager anti 
 cipation of a speedy restoration to our friends. 
 Exhilarated hy such a prospect, the natural 
 vivacity of the Canadian voyag-eurs, increased 
 to ten times its usual vig'our 
 
 u From morn till noon, from noon to dewy eve/' 
 
 the paddle song- echoed over the stillness of the 
 swiftly gliding- stream, and now that necessity 
 forced a " portag-e" on them, the active crew 
 speedily overcame the obstacle, and the hoat 
 again floated in safety helow. The heat was 
 intense ; and thoug-h the breakfast hour was 
 gone by, the stench of putrifying- salmon was 
 so overpowering', that I resolved on proceeding- 
 a few miles lower down, before taking- my 
 morning' repast. Accordingly, the men were 
 directed to push off and prepare for this 
 important event of the day, at a spot indicated, 
 while I resolved to saunter downward by land. 
 Little did I then anticipate the sequel. 
 Scarcely had I set out, when the men put 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 167 
 
 forth, and began steering- in an oblique direc 
 tion across the stream, in order to avoid a 
 string- of whirlpools that for a short distance 
 impeded the direct navig-ation ; and as the boat 
 shot majestically onwards, I half repented my 
 resolution of walking-, envying- the swan-like 
 ease with which she appeared to descend, so 
 contrasted with my own fatiguing- progress. 
 Suddenly, however, the way of the boat was 
 checked ; so abruptly, too, that the rowers 
 were nearly thrown from their seats. Reco 
 vering- their equilibrium, they bent to their oars 
 with redoubled energy, but the craft yielded 
 noug-ht to their endeavours. The incipient 
 gyrations of a huge whirlpool at the same 
 instant began to be felt, holding the boat 
 within its influence. The vortex was rapidly 
 forming, and the air was filled with a confused 
 murmur, high above which might be heard the 
 hoarse voice of 'the bowsman, shouting, ec Ra- 
 mez, ramez, ou nous sommespais ! " The danger 
 became momentarily more imminent; there 
 was no longer any doubt of the sad mischance 
 which had befallen them, for yielding to its 
 fatal attraction, the boat glided, at first slowly, 
 
168 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 into the whirling vortex ; its prow rising- fear 
 fully as the pitiless waters hurried it round 
 with increasing- velocity. 
 
 Is it surprising- that I grew dizzy and faint 
 as I g-azed, until at leng-th one wild, long- cry 
 warned me that all was over, and suddenly 
 restored my senses to their activity ? Alas ! 
 to what purpose, save an overpowering- sense 
 of grief, was the restoration of my faculties of 
 thoug-ht ! 
 
 Utterly incapable of rendering- assistance to 
 my drowning 1 companions, I stood a helpless 
 spectator of the scene. The spot where the 
 boat had disappeared, no long-er offered any 
 mark whereby to note the sad catastrophe that 
 had even now occurred there, the vortex was 
 filled up, and its very site was no long-er dis 
 tinguishable ; for awhile it was more like a 
 dream than a real occurrence, so little vestig'e ap 
 peared of the life-strug'g-les which had just taken 
 place. A few moments more, and the paddles, 
 sitting--poles, and various other articles of a 
 buoyant nature, were cast up in all directions 
 around, while here and there, a strug-g-ling- 
 victim was discoverable, hopelessly endeavour- 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 169 
 
 ing- to evade the fate that awaited him. One 
 by one they disappeared, drawn down by the 
 lesser vortices that continually formed, and 
 again as speedily filled up, in the environs of 
 the catastrophe. After a brief interval, nought 
 was to be distinguished but the now mournful 
 rushing of the waters, and I sat down with the 
 consciousness of being left, in the fullest sense, 
 alone. 
 
 At the time, I dared not hope that even 
 one of my unfortunate companions had es 
 caped ; but it eventually proved that one of 
 them, poor Baptiste, the steersman, had that 
 good fortune. By seizing four empty kegs, 
 lashed together, according to our mode of 
 transport, the buoyancy of these vessels had 
 floated him off, and the Indians picked him up 
 some miles below the scene of the misfortune. 
 For his companions, it was only after long in 
 tervals that the corpse of one or another was 
 occasionally found lying far away along the 
 beach, whither it had drifted with the de 
 scending current, and at length been cast by 
 its capricious eddies. 
 
 Since then, twelve years have elapsed. Near 
 
170 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the spot where I witnessed this sad event, 
 there now stands a humble edifice, rearing 1 its 
 lowly roof above the stunted oaks around it, 
 and environed with several small enclosures 
 where the arid soil of the locality has been sub 
 jected to a partial tillage. This little home 
 stead is a station of the American Wesleyan 
 Society, whose missionaries have been estab 
 lished there since the year 1837, with the view 
 of Christianizing 1 the savage residents of the 
 vicinity. Still numerous, these last have yet 
 decreased sadly in numbers, since the date of 
 my story. What may be the ultimate fate of 
 the rest, it is not for blind mortals to foresee ; 
 suffice it to say, that their present condition is 
 such as to enlist our warmest sympathy. To 
 one boasting- even the shadow of a philan 
 thropic spirit, it is impossible to witness the 
 state of these poor people without experiencing- 
 a heartfelt pang- of pity, and cherishing- an 
 earnest wish that something- may ere long* be 
 done to ameliorate their sad moral condition. 
 
 A few remarks may not be out of place in 
 this connection concerning- the most effectual 
 means of persuading the savag-e mind to em- 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 171 
 
 brace the pure doctrines of Christianity. That 
 there are, in fact, certain agencies whereby 
 this end may be accomplished, more practical, 
 and therefore more promising- than the advo 
 cacy in the first place of a systematic theology, 
 is a position which I assume as too firmly esta 
 blished to require any comment; although 
 confessedly at variance with the persuasion of 
 a religious body, signalized for their fervent 
 piety, and the zeal with which they seek to 
 disseminate the seeds of gospel truth among 
 the nations. It is impossible not to admire 
 the untiring energy of this widely-spread sect 
 in such a cause. But, alas ! the best inten 
 tions of these g*ood people are frustrated for 
 the most part by the self-reliance to which I 
 have alluded, causing* them to reject the 
 employment of those intermediate means of 
 conversion, which, like tillage applied to the 
 soil, are often absolutely necessary to prepare 
 uncultivated minds for the reception of the 
 good seed. Without some co-operating influ 
 ence, whereby the dormant energies of the 
 mind and body shall be awakened to activity, 
 it is, I fear, but a hopeless task to inculcate 
 
172 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 those pure precepts of morality which are co 
 existent with, and dependent on, a state of 
 civilization, partial, of course, in the beginning 1 , 
 but of increasing breath as it proceeds, and of 
 greater depth as it extends itself. The in 
 fluence of Christianity can never really be felt 
 except commensurately with the advancement 
 of knowledge, as, indeed, knowledge is of little 
 avail without Christian virtue ; each recipro 
 cally promoting the strength of the other, in 
 an ever-increasing ratio of progress. 
 
 To instance the erroneous views sometimes 
 insisted on, with regard to this particular sub 
 ject, I may mention the custom of estimating 
 the missionary, in this particular spot, by the 
 number of communicants, without considering 
 their sincerity, or demanding any further quali 
 fication than their formal acquiescence in a 
 creed or ceremony, whose outward form is 
 alone adopted; while, it may be, the whole 
 daily conduct is utterly at variance with its 
 evangelical spirit. As a proof that this is 
 often the case, I may here relate what came 
 under my own observation when re-passing 
 the scene of my mishap already related, on my 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 173 
 
 way into Western Caledonia so lately as last 
 summer. 
 
 It so chanced, on this occasion, that I en 
 camped at the Dalles, and passed the Sabbath 
 there. An hour or two before noon, Mr. 
 
 P , the resident missionary, made his 
 
 appearance in the camp, ring-ing- a small 
 hand-bell as he proceeded to the principal 
 lodg-e, by way of summons to those desirous 
 of attending- morning* service. A g-oodly con 
 course was soon assembled, whose outward 
 decorum was in g-eneral unexceptionable ; 
 in whom, however, candour compels me to 
 remark, I could discover no symptoms of 
 that inward chang-e which common report 
 had led me to expect. Among- the congre 
 gation, my companion, Mr. D , a Catholic 
 
 priest who accompanied me on my way up 
 the river, likewise attended. As the service 
 proceeded, we observed in one corner of the 
 lodg-e a young- man, lying- there in the last 
 stag-e of consumption, his brother, a youth of 
 about eig-hteen, seated by his side. After a 
 brief interval, the attention of every one was 
 aroused by the announcement that the spirit 
 
174 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 of the sick man had departed ; and with the 
 ferocity of a tiger his brother sprang upon a 
 decrepit old woman who sat listening- to the 
 preacher's discourse. Before a hand could 
 move to her succour, the infuriated savage had 
 severed her head from the body. A thrill of 
 horror transfixed the civilized portion of the 
 assembly, but they could only execrate the 
 deed they had not been able to prevent. As 
 for the rest ; they excused the bloody act of 
 their countryman upon the usual plea that 
 it was through the evil incantations of the 
 poor victim that the deceased had undergone 
 a lingering disease, terminating* in his death 
 as just witnessed. Yet these men had been, 
 and still are, represented as evangelized in an 
 eminent degree. 
 
 The occurrence I have related is but a type 
 of a thousand atrocities daily occurring among 
 these supposed converts to the merciful precepts 
 of Christianity. Were it an isolated instance, 
 I should be disinclined to advance it as an 
 argument for or against a general proposition ; 
 and I merely bring it forward to show how 
 mistaken are the views of those benevolent 
 
THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA. 175 
 
 enthusiasts, who are prone to exaggerate the 
 most distant shadow of success into the 
 fullest confirmation of all the most san 
 guine hopes that may he entertained by 
 their supporters. As for the belief in sorcery 
 itself, these benighted heathens are less to be 
 ridiculed and blamed than our own country 
 men of a past generation, whose infatuated 
 belief in the worst horrors of witchcraft led 
 them into excesses ten times more horrible 
 than this unprovoked murder. And, surely, 
 when these deeds come eventually to be 
 judged at that tribunal where we must all 
 appear, the irregular impulse of the savage 
 breast will plead for extenuation far more 
 efficaciously than the systematic barbarities of 
 those blind credulists, who have " loved dark 
 ness rather than light, because their deeds 
 are evil ! " 
 
176 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE UNFORTUNATE DAUGHTER. 
 
 SELDOM or never has it fallen to my lot, dur 
 ing- my protracted residence in these savage 
 wilds, to witness occurrences so tragic as I am 
 about to relate, and in which I was so deeply 
 interested in consequence of a previous ac 
 quaintance with the parties. Scenes of vio 
 lence, indeed, as many of these sketches bear 
 witness, and incidents of romantic adventure, 
 have been of frequent occurrence in my ex 
 perience; but these circumstances may properly 
 be called tragical, not merely from the violence 
 in which they result, but from the harrowing- 
 feeling's excited by them, and the dramatic 
 shape in which they address the imagination. 
 The heroine of my story, was the daughter 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE DAUGHTER. 177 
 
 of a couple, both of native extraction, who re 
 sided as inmates of my establishment. 
 
 The character of the father, who was some 
 what advanced in years, was base and treach 
 erous to a degree ; and though, generally speak 
 ing*, a fond parent, he was possessed of no other 
 redeeming quality, notwithstanding the good 
 advice so lavishly bestowed upon him. He 
 was respected, indeed, because dreaded, by the 
 natives around, who well knew that, once ex 
 cited, he would hesitate at no crime, to accom 
 plish whatever end he might have in view. 
 The mother's character, on the contrary, was 
 so much the opposite of this, that its delinea 
 tion, though ever so briefly, is indeed to me a 
 pleasing relief. During the long period of 
 her connubial probation, she had lived re 
 spected and admired enduring with pa 
 tience the slights and injuries to which her 
 graceless partner continually subjected her, 
 and using every endeavour and straining every 
 nerve to bring up a numerous family with 
 propriety. 
 
 Such were the parents \ and it cannot be 
 a subject of much wonder if the child of 
 
 N 
 
178 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 this ill-assorted couple should exhibit a way 
 ward disposition. Notwithstanding- a kind 
 mother's constant care, the evil example and 
 immoral habits of her father, nad doubtless 
 implanted in her mind the seeds of that evil 
 which eventually ripened into such pernicious 
 fruit. In appearance, she was tall and good- 
 looking, with a complexion savouring- of the 
 brunette, eyes of jet black, and a fig-ure every 
 way prepossessing-. Her hand had been fre 
 quently soug-ht in marriag-e ; but the old man, 
 preferring- to see her united with one of his own 
 descent, selected at leng-th him, whom I shall 
 now introduce to my reader's notice. 
 
 The son of a respectable Indian trader, he 
 had been sent, while yet a child, to Canada, 
 and there placed under the care of a clergy 
 man, who, I am confident, did ample justice to 
 his charg-e. This is the plan frequently 
 adopted by Indian traders ; but not unseldom, 
 after a lavish expenditure of money, and the 
 most anxious solicitude, they are doomed to 
 see every hope blighted, and to learn, too late, 
 that they have laboured in vain. Others, more 
 fortunate, have reason eventually to congratu- 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE DAUGHTER. 179 
 
 late themselves, on seeing their children become 
 efficient and respectable members of society, 
 fulfilling 1 admirably the most cherished du 
 ties of life. Let it suffice to say, that he of 
 whom I now speak was not of the latter 
 number. As regards his conjugal relations, 
 I shall only remark that he exhibited at all 
 times a disposition extremely jealous, treated 
 his wife with incessant rigour, and in other 
 respects afforded her frequent reasons for dis 
 satisfaction and distress. 
 
 It was now the gloomy month of November, 
 a period rendered still more dreary in these 
 parts by the early commencement of a winter 
 seven months in its duration. I well remember 
 it was the "10th day of the month, and I was 
 seated in my little parlour, ruminating* on the 
 dreary prospect before me, when the father of 
 the girl who, by the way, was now a matron, 
 having been married some half-score of years, 
 and given birth to several children entered 
 the room unexpectedly, habited in the guise of 
 an Indian. I was struck with the fearful dis 
 tortion of his countenance, in which the worst 
 passions of rage and revenge were depicted. 
 
180 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 My first impulse on witnessing* the unusual 
 spectacle, was a feeling 1 that he meditated some 
 evil design upon myself; but a moment's 
 reflection convinced me that the supposition 
 was fallacious, for his family had been in 
 variably treated by me with great kindness, 
 and he himself, notwithstanding- the evil cha 
 racter that he bore, was personally indebted to 
 me in many important respects. I therefore 
 fixed my eye upon him, and calmly awaited 
 till he should break the moody silence 
 which prevailed, and explain the object of 
 his visit. This he presently did, informing 
 me in a sullen tone, that he had come to 
 request my permission to proceed in quest 
 of his daughter, who, he said, had recently 
 eloped from her husband \ adding 1 his deter 
 mination that she should not survive the 
 disgrace which she had thus brought, not 
 only upon herself, but upon every member 
 of the family. 
 
 Knowing' well the stern and revengeful 
 character of the man with whom I had to 
 deal, I endeavoured to calm his fury, by 
 representing the heinousness of the crime 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE DAUGHTER. 181 
 
 he evidently meditated; resolving 1 at the 
 same time to watch his motions narrowly, 
 lest, in his thirst for blood, some other most 
 innocent victim might fall a sacrifice. On 
 inquiring- more particularly, I learned that 
 the unfortunate woman was residing 1 with 
 her Indian paramour at a neighbouring 
 villag-e j but seeing- the state of mind in which 
 the father was, I conceived it prudent to 
 refuse him the permission he so earnestly 
 solicited. Upon this he declared his inten 
 tion of sending- his sons for her, since on no 
 account should she reside long-er with the 
 partner of her infidelity. To this arrange- 
 ment I could, of course, make no objection, 
 and accordingly could only renew my deter 
 mination to watch the father closely, and 
 to interfere at once if I perceived any open 
 manifestation of the sinister designs he had 
 cherished, but which, I was fain to hope, 
 the delay that would take place, and the influ 
 ence of my reasonings, would have the effect 
 of counteracting. I felt relieved when my 
 uncouth visit jr had departed, for his features, 
 naturally saturnine and forbidding, were now 
 
182 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 distorted by an expression perfectly demon 
 iacal. 
 
 Shortly after his departure, the poor mother 
 made her appearance, and with tears implored 
 me to restrain her husband's fury. I could 
 only assure her of my determination not to 
 permit him to proceed to any extreme mea 
 sures, and this, I was happy to observe, had 
 the effect of tranquilizing- her fears in some 
 measure. 
 
 The sons set out so secretly that no one was 
 aware of their departure until some time after 
 wards. Meanwhile, as we well knew that, 
 dead or alive, they would not return without 
 their frail and disgraced sister, both the mother 
 and myself employed our influence, in order to 
 prepare the father for the trying- interview 
 that awaited him. It was not till after the 
 lapse of fifteen days that the young- men re 
 turned, bringing- with them the now penitent 
 woman. She was received by her mother in 
 the most affectionate manner, only the g-entlest 
 reproaches for the misery which her miscon 
 duct had occasioned, being- ming-led with her 
 abundant tears. As for the father, he kept 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE DAUGHTER. 183 
 
 aloof in gloomy impatience of a scene so affect 
 ing- to others, and on his daughter's approach 
 ing* to implore his forgiveness, he spurned her 
 from him, and turning 1 about, walked moodily 
 to his dwelling-. The daughter, who had 
 fallen into violent hysterics, was carried in 
 after him ; and while in this state, I besought 
 the father to compassionate the penitence 
 she so obviously manifested. Not obtaining 
 a reply to my satisfaction, and dreading* no 
 serious consequences, while supposing that 
 natural affection would soon resume its sway, 
 I left the scene, and returned home. 
 
 Under pretext of holding a consultation 
 with his Indian relatives, the father next day 
 summoned them to meet him. 
 
 When they were assembled at the spot he 
 had designated a small green in the neigh 
 bourhood the old man, followed by the ma 
 jority of his family, not excepting the subject 
 of his appeal, presently made his appearance. 
 The principal individual of the group, the un 
 happy victim of a pernicious education, stood, 
 with downcast air, on the left : but her grief 
 had greatly subsided, and she was now more 
 
184 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 calm than when I last saw her. Doubtless 
 she hoped that, the cup of her affliction being 1 
 now full to the brim, forgiveness on the part 
 of her father would ensue. Alas ! how mis 
 taken were her anticipations, how erroneous 
 the hopes we had all entertained up to this 
 moment ! 
 
 The scene was of brief duration * the words 
 spoken, few and dreadful in their import. 
 Every one kept silence, and the eyes of many 
 were turned wistfully upon that relentless old 
 man. At length the oppressive silence was 
 broken. 
 
 cc My daughter," said he, <( has brought 
 shame upon me : it is thus I efface the stain." 
 
 With this, he sprang- suddenly towards her ; 
 and, ere a hand could move to arrest his pur 
 pose, or a tongue could utter one word to 
 divert it, he plunged his dagger in her heart. 
 Then, instantaneously disengaging it, he re 
 peated the blow on his own bosom, and both fell 
 lifeless on the ground. 
 
 The consternation to which this tragic catas 
 trophe gave rise, had not yet subsided, when a 
 man dressed like a traveller, and whom I re- 
 

 THE UNFORTUNATE DAUGHTER. 185 
 
 cognized as the husband of the unfortunate 
 woman, appeared suddenly among- the assem 
 bled crowd. He bore a bloody dagger in his 
 hand, and with a loud voice proclaimed the 
 death of the paramour of his faithless wife. 
 
 " He no longer survives my disgrace/' said 
 he, " and I am now contented." 
 
 With these words he disappeared, and I 
 never afterwards fell in with him. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the grief of 
 the survivors of this wretched family how the 
 mother swooned at the unexpected termination 
 of the meeting-, and how the other members 
 of the family deplored in turn the death of a 
 father and a sister. Suffice it to say that, in 
 common with others, tears flowed freely from 
 my own eyes, as I surveyed the dismal scene, 
 and witnessed the harrowing- lamentations of 
 the assembled mourners. 
 
 Years have elapsed since the occurrences 
 above related took place. Still, day after day, 
 does the disconsolate widow continue to visit 
 the joint grave, in which, by her own desire, 
 the remains of her husband and daughter were 
 deposited. There, seated in silent grief, does 
 
186 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 she mourn their fate, bedewing- with tears the 
 lonely spot they occupy, while deploring- in 
 cessantly the sad and mournful event of which 
 I have constituted myself the chronicler.* 
 
 * The custom of thus mourning over the last resting- 
 place of the dead, is prevalent among most of the tribes 
 west of the Rocky Mountains. Their expressions of grief, 
 however, are generally exceedingly vociferous ; save when 
 the silent tear drops unseen, in unfeigned sorrow, upon the 
 grave of some beloved object. 
 
THE SHEWAPPE MURDE&fcR. 187 
 
 CHAPTER Xlt 
 
 THE SHEWAPPE MURDERER. 
 
 IN a former sketch, I endeavoured to impress 
 upon my readers the extent to which the In 
 dian character has been misunderstood, and 
 how greatly misrepresented, by writers not 
 duly qualified by actual residence among 1 these 
 wild races, to form a just opinion concerning- 
 them. It is idle to suppose that the casual 
 visitor who may chance to penetrate as far as 
 the confines of our terra incognita, can have 
 any real knowledge of the passions which 
 agitate the savage breast. After getting a 
 sly peep at some half-sdore of rag'amuffins, 
 and being 1 perchance humbugged with a well- 
 conned routine of hypocritical pretence on 
 their part, such an one may indeed return 
 
188 TKAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 home, deeming- himself become, as if by magic, 
 quite an oracle on the subject ; but how 
 greatly he may deceive himself, and how little 
 he may know of their evil propensities, let these 
 pages testify. To be brief, every Indian is not 
 a hero, nor every female a Penelope, as some 
 would fain insist ; and in proof that they can 
 be both ungrateful and treacherous, let me 
 adduce the following' recent and dreadful ex 
 ample. 
 
 B was one of my oldest and worthiest 
 
 friends. Our intimacy had commenced some 
 twenty-five years ago, and been ripened by 
 time into the warmest friendship. We had 
 shared in each other's perils ; and the narrow 
 escapes we had so frequently experienced, 
 tended to draw still more closely the bond of 
 amity by which we were united. It was our 
 custom to contrive an annual meeting-, in order 
 that we mig-ht pass a few weeks in each other's 
 company. This reunion naturally possessed 
 charms for both of us ; for it was a source of 
 mixed joy, to fig-lit like old soldiers " our battles 
 o'er again/' over a choice bottle of Port or Ma 
 deira , to lay our plans for the future, and, like 
 
THE SHEWAPPE MURDEREK. 189 
 
 veritable gossips, to propose fifty projects, not 
 one of which there was any intention on either 
 part to realize. 
 
 In anticipation of our customary meeting, I 
 was occupied early in the spring- of the last 
 year, in making- my preparations for setting 
 out ; as soon as the breaking up of the season 
 should permit; ruminating-, while thus en 
 gaged, on the pleasure that awaited me, and 
 thinking- it a weary while till the short month 
 that intervened before I could leave my post 
 should set me at liberty. Under these cir 
 cumstances, one day, notice was brought that 
 a messenger, apparently an European, and 
 from the direction in which he approached, 
 evidently from the lower frontier, was seen 
 hastily making his way across the lake which 
 lay before my establishment, and which pre 
 sented at the season an unbroken surface of 
 ice thickly covered with a dazzling bed of 
 snow. He proved to be one of our best 
 pedestrians from the quarter we supposed, 
 striding with laborious perseverance through 
 the snow, in which, notwithstanding his huge 
 snow-shoes, he sunk deep at every step. At 
 
190 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 length, he reached the hill upon which I was 
 standing- and handing his packet to me, said 
 abruptly, 
 
 "Monsieur, B is no more; he was 
 
 murdered by ," naming the Indian by 
 
 whom the dreadful deed had been committed, 
 and who was well known to me. After re 
 covering in some measure from the grief and 
 surprise into which the abrupt communication 
 of the sad intelligence had thrown me, I re 
 turned to the house, and sat down to peruse the 
 letters I had received, from which I gathered 
 the following particulars. 
 
 One of the Shewappe chiefs, who, from the 
 modest and peaceful demeanour he usually 
 exhibited, had received among us the surname 
 of Le Tranquille, had after a protracted ill 
 ness, recently died. The last act of his life 
 fully justified the complimentary epithet by 
 which we had distinguished him. Fearing that 
 his relations mig'ht be tempted to commit some 
 act of revenge upon an innocent victim, in 
 their grief for his death, he especially enjoined 
 them to refrain from any act of this nature. 
 He insisted more particularly on their not 
 
THE SHEWAPPE MURDERER. 191 
 
 molesting* the whites, to whose constant kind 
 ness and humanity he confessed his obligation. 
 
 "Go, however/ said he, "to the Chief, 
 
 Mr. B , and ask him, on my part, for a 
 
 blanket, wherein to shroud all that will remain 
 of me." 
 
 These were nearly the poor sufferer's last 
 words ; for he shortly afterwards gave up the 
 ghost. One of the sons upon this immediately 
 set out, bearing his father's last message to the 
 fort j but the widow, whose grief had at first 
 restrained her sterner feelings, soon burst 
 forth in an ecstasy of frantic passion. Seizing 
 a gun, which had once belonged to him who 
 now lay lifeless before her, she exclaimed with 
 energy 
 
 " With this must my husband's death be 
 revenged, and that ere another sun shall have 
 run his course. Go, my son," she continued, 
 turning to the eldest boy who stood weeping* 
 near her, f( go, and revenge your father, whose 
 death the foul machinations of others have 
 occasioned, and whom you now, like a child, 
 stand idly lamenting. Go, go ! " she impetu 
 ously added, seeing that her remonstrances had 
 
192 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 as yet produced but little effect ; " go, and let 
 the victim you select be of no ordinary rank." 
 
 The better feeling's of the young- man, it is 
 but fair to remark, long 1 sustained him under 
 the virulent reproaches with which his infu 
 riated mother sought to urge him to this crime. 
 Indeed, her reiterated abuse so affected his 
 spirits, that he sought to commit suicide rather 
 than endure her gibes and provocations any 
 longer. At length, frustrated in the attempt 
 upon his own life, and driven to desperation 
 when twitted with the cowardice of a woman, 
 and with other opprobrious epithets, by his 
 unfeeling mother, he seized the gun, and set 
 out on his way to the fort, resolved to glut his 
 angry feelings by the murder of my unfor 
 tunate friend. 
 
 Meanwhile the younger brother had reached 
 the house, and recounting his melancholy 
 story, had received not only the blanket re 
 quested by his dying- father, but a further pre 
 sent, which B 7 s friendship for the defunct 
 
 had prompted him to make. Pleased with the 
 result of his mission, and breathing- thanks to 
 his friendly host, the young Indian set out on 
 
THE SHEWAPPE MURDERER. 193 
 
 his return to the lodge. It may he that his 
 solitary path on the way home was crossed hy 
 the intended murderer of his benefactor. 
 
 Poor B was walking 1 to and fro in a 
 
 spacious hall, in which it was customary to 
 receive the Indian visitors at the establishment, 
 when a young man, whom he easily recog 
 nized as the eldest son of Tranquille, entered, 
 and complaining of the cold (for it was mid 
 winter) seated himself shivering by the fire 
 side. After smoking and talking for some 
 time on divers topics, my unfortunate friend 
 turned with the view of entering an adjoining 
 chamber, when his companion levelled his gun, 
 and fired the contents, consisting* of a bullet 
 with a quantity of shot, full into his back. His 
 victim fell without a groan, and the conscience- 
 stricken murderer, before the alarm could be 
 spread, was already out of reach, fleeing madly 
 to a distance in search of that safety which he 
 well knew he had compromised by this ruth 
 less deed. 
 
 Thus perished my old companion, with 
 whom, for so many years, I had been united 
 in the strictest bonds of friendship. Thus 
 
 
 
194 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 without the interval of even a moment, after 
 the death hlow was dealt, was his spirit 
 ushered into the presence of that dread Being* 
 before whose tribunal a just, but yet a mer 
 ciful one we must one day all appear. 
 What my feelings on this sad occasion must 
 have been, I shall not attempt to describe ; the 
 lapse of time has only alleviated the poignancy 
 of my grief, and I am now resigned to the 
 hope, that when a dark futurity shall no longer 
 be to me as " future," I may meet my friend 
 in another and a better world, where ruthless 
 revenge, and every darker passion of our 
 nature, shall be unknown. 
 
 The sequel of this sad history I shall dismiss 
 with brevity ; for why dwell particularly upon 
 the retributive measures which the paramount 
 necessity of securing 1 ourselves from the like 
 attacks, compelled us to adopt. After many 
 fruitless attempts, the murderer was at length 
 secured : not without the co-operation of the 
 natives themselves, who when they found us 
 bent upon enforcing justice, beg an one by one 
 to abandon the culprit, whom they were at 
 first inclined to protect, but now, with their 
 
THE SHEWAPPE MURDERER. 195 
 
 usual fickleness, did not hesitate to betray. 
 
 His person at last being- secured, Mr. C , 
 
 the leader of the party which had effected the 
 capture, was desirous of taking him to the 
 fort, there to be publicly hanged as an exam 
 ple in terror em to the rest. The project, how 
 ever, was frustrated in the following- manner : 
 As it was necessary to cross the river, the 
 prisoner was placed in a canoe, with two 
 g-uards, having- his hands manacled. By 
 violent exertions, the unhappy man, now ren 
 dered desperate, contrived to upset the canoe 
 when in mid-channel, and fettered as he was, 
 succeeded in reaching 1 the shore. A shot from 
 one of his countrymen now compelled him to 
 betake himself to the water ag'ain, and, strang-e 
 to relate, he recrossed the river. A second 
 wound drove him once more towards the 
 middle of the stream, when seeing- that there 
 was no long'er the shadow of a chance of 
 escape, and bleeding- profusely from the 
 wounds he had received, he raised himself for 
 a moment in the water, called out, in a loud 
 voice, acknowledging- the justice of his punish 
 ment, and then sank to rise no more. 
 
196 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE STORM. THE MOTHER'S GRAVE. 
 
 MANY years have passed away since an appa 
 rent accident made me the witness of an 
 affecting 1 scene, the impression of which time 
 has not even yet effaced from my memory. I 
 was at the time on a visit to Canada. Our route 
 lay through Lake Superior, the largest sheet 
 of water in North America, and but too well 
 known to the voyager for the many dangers 
 that attend its navigation. On the occasion to 
 which I allude, we had indeed a very narrow 
 escape from destruction. During the early 
 part of the day a favourable breeze had driven 
 us rapidly forward on our course ; but towards 
 the afternoon the gathering clouds, and other 
 well-known signs, gave indications of an 
 
THE STOEM. 197 
 
 approaching storm. Presently the wind began 
 to increase till it blew a gale ; loud claps of 
 thunder pealed overhead, and echoed along 
 the mountainous shores of the lake, while 
 rain-drops large and heavy began to fall fast 
 upon us. Naturally a timid sailor, I had 
 some time before given directions to shorten 
 sail the prudence of which was now evident, 
 insomuch that the crew began to see the 
 extent of the danger which hitherto, with 
 their usual supineness, they had not recog 
 nized. The bold rocky shores by which we 
 were fast driving precluded the possibility of a 
 landing ; indeed any attempt to approach for 
 such a purpose, with our frail canoe, would 
 have been to court inevitable destruction. 
 As the storm increased, so did the appre 
 hensions of the majority of the crew multiply ; 
 but fortunately the two boutes, to whose 
 experienced care the management of the 
 vessel was confided, retained their self-posses 
 sion, and while the rest were devoutly crossing 
 themselves, and invoking the name of their 
 patron saint, these wrought hard for the 
 common safety. For myself the while, I 
 
198 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 will confess that, while I retained my out 
 ward self-possession, my hope of escape was 
 but slender. 
 
 After scudding- along- for some time, a low 
 point appeared at the distance of several miles 
 in advance. To attain this was now our ob 
 ject. Hope beg-an to revive in the minds of 
 the despairing- crew, who had for some time 
 been in dread of sharing- the fate of some of 
 their companions, who had perished under 
 similar circumstances, in this very neighbour 
 hood, the preceding- year. Kettles were now 
 employed to keep the canoe clear of water by 
 baling- ; paddles to assist the impulse of the 
 shortened sail ; and thus, after nearly an hour 
 of anxious expectation, we reached the pro 
 mised haven in safety. Bounding 1 the point, 
 we found ourselves suddenly in smooth water, 
 sheltered from the wind, which still continued 
 to blow with violence. 
 
 By means of my g-un, which I had suc 
 ceeded in keeping- dry while everything- else in 
 the canoe was soaking-, we made a fire ; the 
 tent was then pitched, and the crew found 
 instant provision for their comfort by turning- 
 
THE MOTHER'S GRAVE. 199 
 
 the canoe upon its side before the blazing* 
 faggots. 
 
 By-and-by, the storm subsided, and I saun 
 tered abroad. Looking towards the end of 
 the bay, I perceived, what had not before at 
 tracted my attention, a thin smoke arising 
 from among the trees. Approaching the spot, 
 I discovered a small encampment, but it was 
 tenantless ; and I was conjecturing what had 
 become of its recent occupants, when my ear 
 was caught by a low moaning sound in the 
 vicinity. Directing my steps towards the 
 spot, I saw, in the midst of a small clearance, 
 a newly-covered grave, at the head of which a 
 rude cross was planted. Near it was seated a 
 middle-aged Indian, having in his arms a 
 young infant, whose lips he strained to his 
 breast if haply he might quiet it with the 
 fallacious hope of that nutriment of which the 
 death of its mother, who evidently lay interred 
 before them, had deprived it. Another child, 
 a girl of five years old, lay at his feet weep 
 ing bitterly. He, too, the father of these 
 little ones, by the half - suppresssd moans 
 which from time to time escaped him, gave 
 
200 TEA ITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 token of the deep grief which oppressed his 
 soul. 
 
 After witnessing 1 for a while this moving 1 
 scene, I drew near, and the noise of my ap 
 proach attracted his attention. I saluted him, 
 and he quietly rose to accept my proffered 
 hand. With the few words of the Sautean 
 language I possessed, I then invited him to 
 our camp. He followed me in silence, carry 
 ing* tenderly his half-dying- infant, and followed 
 by the little girl, whose grief was hushed for 
 a season by the novelty of my unexpected 
 visit. 
 
 The hunger of the infant was soon appeased 
 with a little white sugar tied in linen. We 
 also supplied its fond parent and his other 
 little one with food, and after a time, while 
 enjoying the solace of a pipe of tobacco, he 
 told me his brief history. Deprived of his 
 wife by sickness, who had died in the neigh 
 bouring- camp only the day before, he had 
 just rendered the last sad offices to her remains 
 when I arrived, and there found him, as I 
 have related, in the indulgence of that grief 
 which, stoic though he is supposed by hasty 
 
THE MOTHER'S GRAVE. 201 
 
 and ill-informed observers to be, is no less 
 characteristic of the American savage, than of 
 the civilized European. Our unexpected visit 
 diverted the grief of the poor savage. We 
 supplied him with tobacco and ammunition, 
 the first as a luxury, the last to procure food, 
 and next day took our departure ; our Indian 
 friend setting out at the same time in the 
 opposite direction, in quest of a camp of his 
 relations who were at some distance beyond, 
 upon the shores of the lake. Fine weather 
 and a pleasant breeze advanced us rapidly on 
 our journey, and we soon forg^ot the danglers 
 of Lake Superior, though not the little incident 
 which I have endeavoured to place on record, 
 
202 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 THE SUICIDE'S CROSS. 
 
 A FEW days after my arrival at the post last 
 mentioned, while anxiously awaiting 1 the friends 
 whom I expected to accompany me on my 
 journey, I was strolling idly about the vici 
 nity, and had not wandered far from the 
 house, when I was surprised at beholding- a 
 solitary cross, standing* in the middle of a 
 small secluded plain. 
 
 This emblem of Christianity, under any cir 
 cumstances, possesses for me, as I fancy for 
 most others, a peculiar attraction and in the 
 present instance I felt singularly disposed to 
 inquire the reason of its being placed in a spot 
 so remote from the ordinary place of inter 
 ment. In most cases, a rude wooden crucifix 
 
THE SUICIDE'S CROSS. 203 
 
 indicates the last resting- - place of the wy- 
 ageur, hut this which I now saw was so situ 
 ated as rather to suggest that it had been 
 placed there by some good Christian to mark 
 the retreat where he might recite in solitude 
 his daily orisons. The following day I re 
 newed my visit to the spot, accompanied by 
 my kind host and his lady, when, in answer 
 to my inquiries, I received the following ac 
 count of the object that had awakened my 
 curiosity. 
 
 The cross, contrary to the conclusion I had 
 arrived at, marked but too truly the resting- 
 place of a fellow -creature, and had been 
 erected some two months before, over the re 
 mains of an unfortunate being who had here 
 voluntarily terminated his existence. Too 
 weak to bear the reverses which sooner or 
 later must always overtake the infatuated 
 gamester, the unhappy man had dared to rush 
 unbidden into eternity, adding one more to the 
 long list of victims to the fatal propensity that 
 had for some time spread but too securely its 
 toils around him. 
 
 How deceitful are appearances ! A few 
 
204 TEAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 short years before the sad catastrophe, this 
 
 young man had been selected by Mr. D , 
 
 a Roman Catholic missionary, on one of his 
 visits to this neighbourhood, as a fit subject 
 for religious improvement. Such was the 
 favourable impression made by his external 
 appearance upon the mind of the worthy 
 priest, that the latter took him zealously 
 by the hand. The assiduity and apparent 
 devotion displayed in his conduct confirmed 
 these prepossessions, and in addition to the 
 pains taken to instruct him in the observance 
 of the faith of which he shortly became a 
 confirmed professor, many little acts of favour 
 and attention, in the shape of presents and 
 the like, marked the degree of favour to which 
 he had attained. 
 
 But alas ! the seeds of religion had been 
 sown on a sandy soil, and as they sprang 
 up quickly, so they grew rank, and perished ! 
 To be candid, moreover, a wearisome routine 
 of prayers, only half intelligible, and repeated 
 by rote without that internal impulse which 
 renders prayer efficacious, is but a poor pro 
 tection against the allurements and tempta- 
 
THE SUICIDE'S CROSS. 205 
 
 tions of the world. Such proved to be the 
 case in the present instance. Trials arose, 
 and the unfortunate lad fell, like other world 
 lings, a victim to temptation, unrestrained by 
 religious principle. 
 
 The career of a gambler is too much 
 the same under all circumstances to require 
 much elucidation. A few years ag*o I had 
 seen the unhappy subject of my story in the 
 bloom of early manhood, occupying a respect 
 able situation, and respected by all around 
 him. A year before his death I had again 
 seen him, but how great was the contrast. 
 Haggard, and with downcast eyes, he was 
 squatted with scarce a garment to cover 
 him, in the corner of the lodge ; shunned by 
 lukewarm relations, and the friends of his 
 more prosperous days, those hollow friends 
 who had themselves assisted in his ruin; no 
 one save his aged mother seemed to retain 
 the least regard for the ill-fated gamester. 
 What wonder is it, under these circumstances, 
 that despair should obtain the mastery over a 
 spirit so broken, and a resolution so weak as 
 his! One Sabbath morning, when all the 
 
206 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 other inmates of the lodge, with the neighbours 
 who resided around, were assembled at mass, 
 the long-desired opportunity presented itself. 
 His poor mother returned, and where she had 
 left her son, there met her eyes the shattered 
 remains of a suicide ! Whether to mark their 
 abhorrence of the crime, or from a reluctance 
 to associate, even in death, with the Protes 
 tants, who chiefly used the ordinary burial- 
 place, I know not ; but his relatives preferred 
 interring him close by the spot where the 
 crime was committed. There stood, and I 
 doubt not stands at this hour, as a memorial 
 of the unhappy dead, the Suicide's Cross. 
 
DEATH OF OUR FAVOURITE DONKEY. 207 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE DEATH OF OUR FAVOURITE DONKEY. 
 
 AMONG the many losses arising' from the seve 
 rity of the winter, to us the unkindest cut of all 
 was the death of an ass, which had attained 
 the patriarchal age of thirty years, and has 
 left behind him a numerous progeny to hear 
 testimony to his manifold good qualities. Surely 
 his sad end ought to be recorded, if it were 
 only to show that the most harmless and help 
 less of all creatures have no security against 
 the murderous intentions of the Indians, in 
 these wilds ! 
 
 Feeling the cold like his neighbours, and 
 trusting to the hospitality of man, the confid 
 ing animal had approached the hut of an 
 Indian resident in the neighbourhood, with 
 
208 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the view of obtaining 1 a little warmth from the 
 fire. Aged, and withal tired, perhaps, a deep 
 sleep had succeeded to this unwonted luxury, 
 and while thus napping, the poor brute was 
 treacherously assailed with axe and knife, by 
 those who should have protected him, as their 
 g-uest. That (c murder will out " is a proverb 
 as old as the hills. It was not long- ere many- 
 tongued rumour let the secret escape, nor was 
 much time suffered to elapse before the hue- 
 and-cry was raised, and the criminals brought 
 before the presiding- judge, their hands still 
 red with the blood of their victim. The cul 
 prits were about to be questioned on the ruth 
 less deed, when a voice was heard calling- out 
 to give them the benefit of " Lynch law/ 7 
 The judge signified his disapprobation of this 
 violation of propriety, by ordering the court 
 to be cleared, and presently, considering the 
 highly excited state of public feeling-, resolved 
 to defer the examination until it should in 
 some degree have subsided : for who, whether 
 beast or man, was ever of sufficient importance 
 to be long regretted ? 
 
 After six days' confinement, the trial was 
 
DEATH OF OUR FAVOURITE DONKEY. 209 
 
 resumed. It was of short duration : the facts 
 being- too obvious to admit of question. When 
 called upon for their defence, the prisoners 
 pleaded starvation as their motive ; but this 
 no one chose to credit. The man then laid 
 the blame upon his wife, or the devil one 
 or the other of whom he declared to have 
 instigated the deed. This dastardly attempt 
 to shift the blame upon his unfortunate part 
 ner, occasioned a general murmur of disappro 
 bation, which the judge was compelled to check 
 in a peremptory tone. It was then proved 
 that the prisoners had hitherto sustained a 
 good reputation for industry and good beha 
 viour, a fact which evidently had its weight 
 with the jury. At length the judge, whose 
 well-known character for discretion I need 
 not comment upon, charged the jury, warn 
 ing them to dismiss all prejudice from their 
 minds, and so forth, and they retired to 
 deliberate. After a few minutes, a verdict 
 of guilty was returned, accompanied by a 
 recommendation to mercy, on the score of 
 ignorance of the enormity of their crime. 
 The sentence passed upon the prisoners was 
 
 p 
 
210 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 banishment for ever from the county of 
 Vancouver. 
 
 Such a punishment may at first sight ap 
 pear lenient ; but its severity will become ap 
 parent, when it is understood that death itself 
 is perhaps less insupportable to the Indian, than 
 banishment from his native soil. It is the 
 pride and the pleasure of his nature to speak 
 of it. Every conspicuous spot has its appro 
 priate name, possibly connected by tradition 
 with the prowess of his departed ancestors. 
 When a distant journey is undertaken, the 
 last recommendation to those he leaves be 
 hind, is, " Fail not, in case of my death, to go 
 in quest of my bones, and bring them to my 
 own lands/' I have witnessed several in 
 stances of Indians dying in this way, not less 
 than twenty days' journey from their ancestral 
 home ; still, through a country nearly impass 
 able, have the relatives observed religiously 
 that last injunction, and sought their remains, 
 exposed to every manner of privations and 
 hardship. This being well known, ought we 
 not to feel commiseration for the unfortunates, 
 whom we so often see deprived of their natural 
 
DEATH OF OUR FAVOURITE DONKEY. 211 
 
 rights, particularly in the United States, where, 
 with the regularity of a law of nature, the 
 aboriginal inhabitants are compelled to recede 
 before the white population? As the settle 
 ments advance with rapid strides, a question 
 able remuneration, it is true, is nominally 
 made to the original possessors of the soil, 
 but what compensation can remunerate even 
 these poor outcasts for the violation of their 
 dearest sympathies ? Driven backwards, step 
 by step, and league by league, each stage of 
 their retreat is but a temporary respite from 
 the onward march which dooms them to die at 
 a distance from the bones of their forefathers. 
 Wretched and desponding moved hither and 
 thither, by the right of might subject to the 
 will of a coarse and unfeeling agent, acting in 
 the name of a government which it is hopeless 
 to resist they become a prey to contagious 
 diseases, which are ever severest on the poor 
 and miserable. It is almost the only consola 
 tion remaining to the philanthropist under 
 these circumstances, that, ere long, the race 
 must become extinct. 
 
 In the Oregon territory, the population was 
 
212 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 once numerous, as compared with the ordinary 
 population of America. But disease has done 
 its work there also, insomuch that scarcely one 
 of the original race is now to be seen. Well 
 do I recollect the day, when the banks of the 
 Columbia and its tributaries were crowded by 
 hundreds of the native races, apparently among* 
 the happiest of mankind, and surrounded by 
 abundance, which it cost them little labour 
 to procure. The river supplied them with 
 salmon, the woods yielded elk and deer, and 
 where wood was scarce, in the upper parts of 
 the watercourse, an adequate supply of fuel 
 was brought down by the annual floods from 
 the mountains. But how is the scene 
 changed ! Immigration has supplanted the 
 original population of the land, and where 
 peace and contentment once reig'ned, they 
 reign no longer. 
 
THE LONDON PACKET. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE LONDON PACKET. 
 
 IT is not easy for me to convey an idea of 
 the degree of excitement that attends the glad 
 announcement of the packet from London. 
 Shut out from the world, indeed, as we are, 
 and receiving- tidings from home at yearly 
 intervals only, it is natural that anxiety as to 
 their probable nature should prevail among 
 the expectants. Such being the case, it is 
 also always interesting to observe the varied 
 manifestations of joy or grief, that are exhi 
 bited by individuals according to the intelli 
 gence received by them. 
 
 For weeks before the anticipated event, the 
 probabilities attending it form the all-perva 
 ding topic of conversation, both among the 
 
214 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 private circles and at the public mess of our 
 little community. A thousand conjectures 
 arise in quick succession to divide the opinions 
 of those interested, and these are often 
 strengthened by bets upon the points in 
 debate. The excitement increases from day 
 to day, until all doubts are at length solved by 
 the arrival of the ship, first announced by a 
 confused murmur, and then by the noisy 
 exclamations of the children, running 1 to and 
 fro, delighted with the novelty, and screaming 
 at the top of their voices, " The Packet ! the 
 Packet !" 
 
 The bearers of the precious burden "shortly 
 make their appearance, not a little proud of 
 the temporary importance attached to their 
 mission. They advance to the governor's 
 domicile, and are ushered into the presence 
 hall, where, as they well know, a hearty welcome 
 irom the great man awaits them. All etiquette 
 is for the while suspended. A motley group 
 of followers throng around the doors. A few 
 brief inquiries as to the whereabouts of the 
 good ship, and the like generalities, terminate 
 the first act of the important drama, and the 
 
THE LONDON PACKET. 15 
 
 packet-bearers are dismissed kitchenwards, 
 where refreshments await them, and their 
 share of the matter is concluded. 
 
 Deeply impressed with the importance of his 
 office, the accountant, who, in these matters 
 seems privileged to take the lead, now ad 
 vances, and hastily rummages through the con 
 tents of the box. Letters are doled forth to 
 their expectant owners. The man of figures 
 seizes with avidity the mass of accounts and 
 books, which seem to possess for him attrac 
 tions not easily appreciated by the uninitiated, 
 and forthwith retreats to his desk, where 
 he plunges deep into their mysteries, and 
 seems for the while weaned from extraneous 
 cares. 
 
 As may be supposed, an event so long 
 looked for, and so interesting to all connected 
 with the establishment, deranges for a while 
 its settled routine ; every one, in short, being 
 so engrossed with the perusal of his letters, 
 that a general silence supplants the ordinary 
 buzz of business. At length, the sound of the 
 dinner-bell renews the social compact, the 
 contents of each one's budget are retailed for 
 
216 TRAITS OF INDIAN LIFE. 
 
 the general benefit, an extra glass of wine is 
 drunk in honour of the day, and joy and hila 
 rity, with occasional exceptions, are exhibited 
 in every countenance. Even the ladies share 
 in the general excitement; for besides the 
 familiar topics in which they may be presumed 
 to have an interest, they have their own 
 special curiosity to satisfy, noting- the domestic 
 supplies shipped for them the gowns, the 
 bonnets, the shawls, and fifty other items of 
 necessity or ornament. So passes the day; 
 another sun appears, and again all is regu 
 larity and order. 
 
 I well remember a scene such as I have de 
 scribed in June 18 . Among those assembled 
 at the dinner - table on this occasion, I re 
 marked one young man, recently from Eng 
 land, in the capacity of a clerk, whose thought 
 ful look excited my sympathy. I afterwards 
 learned that he had received no letters from 
 home, which accounted in some degree for 
 the sad expression of his countenance. He 
 was the only son of a widow, and beside 
 her he had no other tie upon earth, for every 
 relative he had ever known, had one by one 
 
THE LONDON PACKET. 217 
 
 been snatched from his side. The disappoint 
 ment he had experienced was indeed great, 
 but I had no suspicion that the wound it had 
 inflicted was so serious, until his absence from 
 breakfast the next morning 1 suggesting- the 
 propriety of calling upon him, I found him 
 bathed in tears, and having comforted him as 
 well as I could, left him once more to his 
 meditations. 
 
 The poor fellow had imbibed the idea, 
 afterwards proved to be erroneous, that his 
 sole relation was dead, for to no other cause 
 could he ascribe her unaccountable silence ; 
 and it was in vain that we pointed out to 
 him the possibility of her letters having- mis 
 carried. 
 
 Thus, from hour to hour, did the lad pine 
 away, secretly indulging the gloomy ima 
 ginings which it was soon evident would sap 
 the foundations of his health. The pallor of 
 death began to supplant the rosy hue which his 
 countenance had previously exhibited. Medi 
 cal advice was resorted to, but his disease 
 was of the mind, and beyond the help of 
 medicine. 
 
21S THE LONDON PACKET. 
 
 Day after day he got worse ; and within a 
 brief fortnight after the arrival of the packet, 
 he expired^ a victim to over-excitement and 
 despair ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by STEWART & MUKKAY, 
 Old Bailey. 
 
April 1853. 
 
 A CATALOGUE 
 
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BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
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 i. 
 
 AMABEL : OR, THE VICTORY OF LOVE. 
 By MARY ELIZABETH WORMELEY. 
 
 In Three Volumes. 
 
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 knowledge of society, much skill in depicting its persons and salient features, with 
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 lively interest." Globe. 
 
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 healthy sentiment, affording proof that she has followed the human emotions to their 
 source. The characters are living men and women." Weekly Chronicle. 
 
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 entitle the authoress to consideration, and of the highest order." Sun. 
 
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 place them in the first class of fiction. The trials of Amabel, her Christian love, the 
 fountain of pure integrity, that gives freshness to her whole life, make her a study for 
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 and events, and the persons are real flesh and blood." Morning Advertiser. 
 
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 * Amabel' is a remarkable work. It is rife with interest ; the principal character is 
 beautifully and truly drawn. Let our readers procure these delightful volumes." 
 Sunday Times. 
 
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 and is written with a purpose that everyone must appreciate. It contains some power 
 ful writing, and reflections that strike us by their truth and depth of observation. 
 Miss Wormeley's power lies in her knowledge of the female heart : every turn, every 
 stage of love, from the mere passion to the principle." Court Journal. 
 
 " A charming tale, which will delight the taste and elevate the mind. For vigour 
 of delineation and freshness of manner, it is one of the very best specimens of fiction 
 that has come before us this season." Bell's Messenger. 
 
 " * Amabel' has many passages of great power, and more of truthful pathos." 
 Britannia. 
 
SMITH, ELDER AND CO. 
 
 Nefo Jpfcttons. 
 
 ii. 
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR DREAMERS. 
 
 By T. GWYNNE, Esq., Author of "The School for 
 
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 THE SCHOOL FOR FATHERS ; An Old English Story. 
 By T. GWYNNE. Crown 8vo. Price los. 6d. 
 
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 turned narrative. The characters have all of them the air of reality the charm 
 derivable only from what one feels to have been sincerely observed ; and the effect is 
 genuine and perfectly satisfactory. The descriptions are excellent; some of the 
 country painting is as fresh as a landscape by Constable, or an idyl by Alfred Tenny 
 son." Examiner. 
 
 " A hale, hearty, unaffected, honest, downright English tale such a one as is very 
 rarely met with in these days. A vigorous painting of English men and manners, by 
 an artist who is thoroughly national in his genius, taste, education, and prejudices. 
 Few are the tales so interesting to read, and so admirable in purpose and style, as 
 The School for Fathers.' " Globe. 
 
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BOOKS PUBLISHED BY 
 
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 VILLETTE. By CURRER BELL, 
 
 Author of " JANE EYRE," " SHIRLEY," &c. 
 
 In Three Volumes , Post 8w, Price I/. iu. 6^. 
 
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 than ' Jane Eyre,' for it has all the best qualities of that remarkable book. There is 
 throughout a charm of freshness which is infinitely delightful : freshness in observa 
 tion, freshness in feeling, freshness in expression. Brain and heart are both held in 
 suspense by the fascinating power of the writer." Literary Gazette. 
 
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 as an original and powerful writer. * Villette ' is a most admirably written novel, 
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 Emanuel." Athen&um. 
 
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 thoughtful." Britannia. 
 
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 though here and there it is dashed with wonder and melancholy, is as a whole cheer 
 ful and piquant ; abundant in clear, clear-cut, strongly-drawn etchings, presenting so 
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 cannot fail to be remarkable." Morning Chronicle. 
 
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 out leaving on it the stamp of originality. Of her three novels this is perhaps the 
 strangest, the most astonishing, though not the best. The sustained ability is perhaps 
 greater in *' Villette" than in its two predecessors. The whole three volumes are 
 crowded with beauties ; with good things, for which we look to the clear sight, deep 
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 the name of Currer Bell." Daily News. 
 
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 books, one of the most interesting of stories. ' Villette ' will add immensely to the 
 author of * Jane Eyre's ' fame, as a philosophical and analytical expositor of the human 
 heart and feelings." Globe. 
 
SMITH, ELDER AND CO, 
 
 . ^fiacfarag's Nefo Jetton. 
 
 ESMOND. By W. M. THACKERAY, 
 Author of " PENDENNIS," " VANITY FAIR," &c. 
 
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 of the eighteenth century, and for his heroine one of the sweetest women that ever 
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 kindly than ' Vanity Fair.' Thinking and educated readers will discern in it an 
 immense advance in literary power over Mr. Thackeray's previous writings." Prater's 
 Magazine. 
 
 " This is the best work of its kind that has been published for many years. As 
 a picture of the social life and manners of English society in the reign of Queen Anne, 
 it must long remain unrivalled. The characters dress, think, speak, and act, just as 
 the men and women did in the time of Queen Anne j they are not mere puppets 
 Mr. Thackeray's genius makes them live." Atlas. 
 
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