Friendly reception among the Indians on the Assinneboin—Prairie
Portage—Net-no-kwa’s dream, and its fulfillment—meet with
Pe-shau-ba, a distinguished warrior of the Ottawwaws—journey
to Kau-wau-koning, and residence there—return towards Lake
Superior—war-party against the Minnetauks—mouth of Assinneboin
river.
After a few days, we started to go up the Red River, and in two days
came to the mouth of the Assinneboin where we found great numbers of
Ojibbeways and Ottawwaws encamped. As soon as we arrived the chiefs
met to take our case into consideration, and to agree on some method
of providing for us. “These, our relations,” said one of the chiefs,
“have come to us from a distant country. These two little boys are not
able to provide for them, and we must not suffer them to be in want
among us.” Then one man after another offered to hunt for us; and they
agreed, also, since we had started to come for the purpose of hunting
beaver, and as our hunters had died on the way, that each should give
us some part of what they should kill. We then all started together to
go up the Assinneboin river, and the first night we camped among the
buffalo. In the morning, I was allowed to go out with some Indians who
went to hunt buffaloes. We killed one of four bulls which we found. We
continued to ascend the Assinneboin about ten days, killing many bears
as we travelled along. The Assinneboin is broad, shallow, and crooked,
and the water, like that of the Red River, is turbid; but the bottom is
sandy, while that of Red River is commonly muddy. The place to which we
went on the Assinneboin is seventy miles distant by land from the mouth;
but the distance by water is greater. The banks of the river on both
sides, are covered with poplar and white oak, and some other trees which
grow to considerable size. The prairies, however, are not far distant,
and sometimes come into the immediate bank of the river. We stopped at
a place called Prairie Portage where the Indians directed the trader
who was with them to build his house and remain during the winter. We
left all our canoes and went up into the country to hunt for beaver
among the small streams. The Indians gave Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself a
little creek where were plenty of beaver and on which they said none but
ourselves should hunt. My mother gave me three traps, and instructed me
how to set them by the aid of a string tied around the spring, as I was
not yet able to set them with my hands as the Indians did. I set my three
traps, and on the following morning found beavers in two of them. Being
unable to take them out myself, I carried home the beavers and traps,
one at a time, on my back, and had the old woman to assist me. She was,
as usual, highly gratified and delighted at my success. She had always
been kind to me, often taking my side when the Indians would attempt to
ridicule or annoy me. We remained in this place about three months, in
which time we were as well provided for as any of the band; for if our
own game was not sufficient, we were sure to be supplied by some of our
friends as long as any thing could be killed. The people that remained
to spend the winter with us were two lodges, our own making three; but
we were at length joined by four lodges of Crees. These people are the
relations of the Ojibbeways and Ottawwaws, but their language is somewhat
different, so as not to be readily understood. Their country borders upon
that of the Assinneboins, or Stone Roasters; and though they are not
relations, nor natural allies, they are sometimes at peace, and are more
or less intermixed with each other.
After we had remained about three months in this place, game began to
be scarce and we all suffered from hunger. The chief man of our band
was called As-sin-ne-boi-nainse, (the Little Assinneboin,) and he now
proposed to us all to move as the country where we were was exhausted.
The day on which we were to commence our removal was fixed upon, but
before it arrived our necessities became extreme. The evening before
the day on which we intended to move, my mother talked much of all our
misfortunes and losses, as well as of the urgent distress under which we
were then labouring. At the usual hour I went to sleep, as did all the
younger part of the family; but I was wakened again by the loud praying
and singing of the old woman, who continued her devotions through great
part of the night. Very early on the following morning she called us all
to get up, and put on our moccasins and be ready to move. She then called
Wa-me-gon-a-biew to her, and said to him, in rather a low voice, “My
son, last night I sung and prayed to the Great Spirit, and when I slept,
there came to me one like a man, and said to me, ‘Net-no-kwa, to-morrow
you shall eat a bear. There is, at a distance from the path you are to
travel to-morrow, and in such a direction, (which she described to him,)
a small round meadow, with something like a path leading from it; in
that path there is a bear.’ Now, my son, I wish you to go to that place,
without mentioning to any one what I have said, and you will certainly
find the bear, as I have described to you.” But the young man, who was
not particularly dutiful, or apt to regard what his mother said, going
out of the lodge, spoke sneeringly to the other Indians of the dream.
“The old woman,” said he, “tells me we are to eat a bear to-day; but
I do not know who is to kill it.” The old woman, hearing him, called
him in, and reproved him; but she could not prevail upon him to go to
hunt. The Indians, accordingly, all moved off towards the place where
they were to encamp that night. The men went first by themselves, each
carrying some article of baggage; and when they arrived where the camp
was to be placed, they threw down their loads and went to hunt. Some
of the boys, and I among them, who accompanied the men, remained with
this baggage until the women should come up. I had my gun with me, and I
continued to think of the conversation I had heard between my mother and
Wa-me-gon-a-biew, respecting her dream. At length, I resolved to go in
search of the place she had spoken of, and without mentioning to any one
my design, I loaded my gun as for a bear and set off on our back track.
I soon met a woman belonging to one of the brothers of Taw-ga-we-ninne,
and of course my aunt. This woman had shown little friendship for us,
considering us as a burthen upon her husband, who sometimes gave
something for our support; she had also often ridiculed me. She asked
me immediately what I was doing on the path, and whether I expected
to kill Indians, that I came there with my gun. I made her no answer;
and thinking I must be not far from the place where my mother had told
Wa-me-gon-a-biew to leave the path, I turned off, continuing carefully
to regard all the directions she had given. At length, I found what
appeared at some former time to have been a pond. It was a small, round,
open place in the woods, now grown up with grass and some small bushes.
This I thought must be the meadow my mother had spoken of; and examining
it around, I came to an open place in the bushes, where, it is probable,
a small brook ran from the meadow; but the snow was now so deep that I
could see nothing of it. My mother had mentioned that when she saw the
bear in her dream she had, at the same time, seen a smoke rising from
the ground. I was confident this was the place she had indicated, and
I watched long, expecting to see the smoke; but wearied at length with
waiting, I walked a few paces into the open place, resembling a path,
when I unexpectedly fell up to my middle into the snow. I extricated
myself without difficulty, and walked on; but remembering that I had
heard the Indians speak of killing bears in their holes, it occurred to
me that it might be a bear’s hole into which I had fallen, and looking
down into it, I saw the head of a bear lying close to the bottom of
the hole. I placed the muzzle of my gun nearly between his eyes, and
discharged it. As soon as the smoke cleared away, I took a piece of a
stick and thrust it into the eyes and into the wound in the head of the
bear, and being satisfied that he was dead, I endeavoured to lift him out
of the hole; but being unable to do this, I returned home, following the
track I had made in coming out. As I came near the camp, where the squaws
had, by this time, set up the lodges, I met the same woman I had seen
in going out, and she immediately began again to ridicule me. “Have you
killed a bear, that you come back so soon, and walk so fast?” I thought
to myself, “how does she know that I have killed a bear?” But I passed
by her without saying anything, and went into my mother’s lodge. After
a few minutes, the old woman said, “My son, look in that kettle, and
you will find a mouthful of beaver meat, which a man gave me since you
left us in the morning. You must leave half of it for Wa-me-gon-a-biew,
who has not yet returned from hunting, and has eaten nothing to-day.” I
accordingly ate the beaver meat, and when I had finished it, observing
an opportunity when she stood by herself, I stepped up to her and
whispered in her ear, “My mother, I have killed a bear.” “What do you
say, my son?” said she. “I have killed a bear.” “Are you sure you have
killed him?” “Yes.” “Is he quite dead?” “Yes.” She watched my face for
a moment, and then caught me in her arms, hugging and kissing me with
great earnestness, and for a long time. I then told her what my aunt had
said to me, both going and returning, and this being told to her husband
when he returned, he not only reproved her for it, but gave her a severe
flogging. The bear was sent for, and, as being the first I had killed,
was cooked all together, and the hunters of the whole band invited to
feast with us, according to the custom of the Indians. The same day,
one of the Crees killed a bear and a moose, and gave a large share of
the meat to my mother. For some time we had plenty of game in our new
residence. Here Wa-me-gon-a-biew killed his first buffalo, on which
occasion my mother gave another feast to all the band. Soon afterwards
the Crees left us to go to their own country. They were friendly and
hospitable people, and we were sorry to part with them; but we soon
afterwards went down to the place where we had left the trader, and
arrived there on the last day of December, as I remember the following
was new year’s day.
Near this trading-house we remained for sometime by ourselves; at
length, we received a message from the trader, and on going up found
there Pe-shau-ba, a celebrated war-chief of the Ottawwaws, who had come
from Lake Huron several years before. He, it appeared, heard in his own
country of an old Ottawwaw woman, who, with a family of two women, two
boys, and three little children, having lost their men by death, were
on the Assinneboin, and suffering from poverty. He had come, with his
three companions, (which were what the Indians commonly call his young
men, though one of them was, perhaps, older than himself.) These were,
Waus-so, (the lightning,) Sag-git-to, (he that scares all men,) and
Sa-ning-wub, (he that stretches his wings.) The old man, Waus-so, who was
himself distinguished as a warrior, had fallen sick, and had been left
at some distance behind. Pe-shau-ba had traced us from place to place,
by the reports of the Indians, and at last found us at Prairie Portage.
He was a large and very handsome old man, and when we were called in,
he immediately recognized Net-no-kwa as a relative. But looking round
upon us, he said, “Who are these?” She answered, “They are my sons.”
He looked at me very closely, and said, “Come here, my brother.” Then
raising his blanket, he showed me the mark of a deep and dangerous wound
on the chest. “Do you remember, my young brother, when we were playing
together, with guns and spears, and you gave me this wound?” Seeing my
embarrassment, he continued to amuse himself for some time, by describing
the circumstances attending the wound, at the time he received it. He at
last relieved me from some suspense and anxiety, by saying, it was not
myself who had wounded him, but one of my brothers, at a place which he
mentioned. He spoke of Ke-wa-tin, who would have been of about my age, if
he had lived, and inquired particularly to the time and the circumstances
of my capture, which had happened after he left Lake Huron.
This was about new year’s day, and soon after we started together for
the country of Pe-shau-ba, which was at a great distance. The snow was
deep, and our route lying, for the most part, through open prairies,
we were not able to travel when the wind was high. When we commenced
our journey, we were hungry and in want of provisions; but soon found
plenty of buffalo, which were very fat and good. Notwithstanding the
snow was deep, and the weather severe, the buffalo could still feed by
pushing aside the snow with their heads, and thus coming at the grass
below. We had thrown away our mats of Puk-kwi,[11] the journey being
too long to admit of carrying them. In bad weather we used to make a
little lodge, and cover it with three or four fresh buffalo hides, and
these being soon frozen, made a strong shelter from wind and snow. In
calm weather, we commonly encamped with no other covering than our
blankets. In all this journey, Pe-shau-ba and Sa-nin-kwuh carried each
one of our sister’s little children on their backs. Thus we travelled
on as diligently as the weather would permit for about two months and
a half. In the middle of our journey, we passed the trading-house and
fort at Mouse River. The general direction of our route was a little
north of west till we arrived, at last, at a place called Kau-wau-ko-mig
Sah-kie-gun, Clear Water Lake, from which runs a small stream, called
Sas-kaw-ja-wun, (Swift Water;) but this is not the source or a part of
the great river Saskawjawun, (Saskutchawin,) which is farther towards
the north. Clear Water Lake is not, however, the principal source of
the Little Saskawjawun, the head of that river lying far to the north.
On the bank of this lake was the small log hut of Pe-shau-ba, where he
had lived, with the three men I have mentioned, for some years. He had
left his wife at Lake Huron; and the other men, if they had ever been
married, had no women with them. Immediately on his arrival, he opened
his sun-je-gwun, and took out large quantities of beaver skins, dried
meat, dressed skins, etc. etc. all of which he delivered to the women,
saying, “We have long been our own squaws, but we must be so no longer.
It must now be your business to dress our skins, dry our meat, make our
moccasins, etc.” The old woman herself took charge particularly of the
property of Pe-shau-ba, whom she called her son, and treated as such. The
daughter, and the daughter-in-law, made it their business to look after
the other three men. Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself were, as heretofore,
under the particular care of our mother. In hunting, I was the companion
of Pe-shau-ba, who was always kind to me, and seemed to take pleasure
in teaching me how to become a great hunter. It must have been late in
winter when we arrived at Clear Water Lake; but the weather was still so
cold that water, when carried out of our lodge, would freeze immediately.
When going to hunt, we started long before the sun rose, and returned
long after it set. At noon, the sun would scarce rise to the tops of the
trees, though they are very low there.
The country where we were was mostly prairie, with some low cedar and
pine trees; but there are plenty of beavers and other game. It is not
very far distant from the country of the Mandans, on the Missouri. From
Mouse River a man may walk to the Mandan villages in four days. Just
before the leaves began to appear in the spring, we started with all our
peltries, and large quantities of dried meat, and dried beaver tails, to
come down to the trading-house, on Mouse River. In that country there
is no birch or cedar fit for making canoes, so that we were compelled
to make one for our journey of green moose skins, which, being sewed
together with great care, and stretched over a proper frame, then
suffered to dry, make a very strong and good canoe; but in warm weather
it will not last long. In a canoe of this kind, which would carry nearly
half as much as a common Mackinac boat, (perhaps five tons,) we all
embarked with whatever belonged to us, the intention of Net-no-kwa and
Pe-shau-ba being to return to Lake Huron.
We descended the Little Saskawjawun for several days. On this river we
found a village of Assinneboins, with whom we stopped a short time. None
of us could understand them except Waus-so, who had somewhere learned
to speak their language. When we came from the Little Saskawjawun into
the Assinneboin river, we came to the rapids, where was a village of one
hundred and fifty lodges of Assinneboins, and some Crees. We now began
to feel the want of fresh provisions, and determined to stop a day or
two to kill sturgeons at this place, where we found a plenty of them. We
went and stood near the Assinneboins, and saw an old man, when a sturgeon
had just been drawn out of the water, cut off the pendant part of his
mouth, and eat it without cooking, or any kind of condiment. These people
generally appeared to us filthy and brutal. Something of our dislike may
perhaps be attributed to the habitually unfriendly feeling which exists
among the Ojibbeways for the Abbwoi-nug.[12] In two days from these
rapids we came to Monk River, where both the Northwest and the Hudson’s
Bay Company have trading-houses. Here Pe-shau-ba and his friends began
to drink, and in a short time expended all the peltries they had made
in their long and successful hunt. We sold one hundred beaver skins in
one day for liquor. The price was then six beaver skins for a quarter of
rum, but they put a great deal of water with it. After drinking here for
some time, we began to make birch canoes, still intending to continue on
our journey. But at this time the Assinneboins,[13] and Crees, and all
the Indians of this part of the country, with whom the Mandans had made
peace, were invited by the Mandans to come to their country, and join in
a war against the people called by the Ojibbeways A-gutch-a-ninne,[14]
who live two days distant from the Mandans. Waus-so, hearing of this,
determined to join the war-party, then assembling at Mouse River. “I
will not,” said he, “return to my country before I get scarred once
more. I will see the people who have killed my brothers.” Pe-shau-ba and
Net-no-kwa endeavoured to dissuade him, but he would not listen, and
Pe-shau-ba himself presently began to show evidence of excitement at
witnessing the enthusiasm of his companion. After deliberating a day or
two, he said to the old woman, “I cannot consent to return to the country
of the Ottawwaws without Waus-so. Sa-ning-wub and Sag-git-to also wish
to go with him to visit the neighbors of the Mandans. I will go also,
and I wish you to wait for me at Lake Winnipeg, where I shall be in the
fall, and you will not fail to have a keg of rum in readiness, as I shall
be very thirsty when I return.” They left the canoes unfinished, and all
went off together with the war-party. Wa-me-gon-a-biew also accompanied
them, leaving me only with the three women and three children. But
this expedition, for which the Mandans had called assistance from such
remote regions, failed for the want of concert and agreement between the
different bands. Some of these being the hereditary enemies of the rest,
quarrels were sure to arise, and the project was thus disconcerted, the
A-gutch-a-ninne being left at peace in their own village.
After they had gone, I started with Net-no-kwa and the remainder of
the family for Lake Winnipeg. We were compelled still to use the old
moose-skin canoe, as none of the birch ones were finished, and we did not
wish to remain any longer at Mouse River. We had left the trading-house
but a short time, when we discovered a sturgeon, which, by some accident,
had got into such shoal water, on a sand-bar, that considerable part of
his back was to be seen above the surface. I jumped out of the canoe, and
killed him with little difficulty; and as this was the first sturgeon I
had ever taken, the old woman thought it necessary to celebrate the feat
of Oskenetahgawin, or first fruits, though, as we were quite alone, we
had no guests to assist us.
The mouth of the Assinneboin is a place much frequented by the Sioux
war-parties, where they lie concealed and fire upon such as are passing.
We did not approach this place until dark, intending to pass through late
at night; it was, accordingly, after midnight, when carefully avoiding
either shore, we floated silently out into Red River. The night was dark,
and we could not discern distinctly any object on shore; but we had
scarce entered Red River when the silence was broken by the hooting of
an owl on the left bank of the Assinneboin. This was quickly answered by
another on the right bank, and presently by a third on the side of Red
River, opposite the mouth. Net-no-kwa said, in a whisper scarce audible,
“We are discovered,” and directed to put the canoe about, with the utmost
silence. In obedience to her direction, we ascended with the utmost
caution, endeavouring to keep near the middle of Red River. I was in the
bow of the canoe, and keeping my head as low as I could I was carefully
watching the surface of the water before us, hoping to be able to see
and avoid any canoe, or other object, which might approach, when I saw a
little ripple on the surface of the river, following a low, black object,
which I took to be the head of a man, swimming cautiously across before
us. I pointed this out to the women, and it was immediately agreed that
we should pursue, and, if possible, kill the man in the water. For this
purpose, a strong sturgeon-spear was put into my hand, and we commenced
the pursuit; but the goose, (for it was one, with a brood of young ones,)
soon became alarmed, and flew. When we perceived our mistake, we retraced
our way up the river, with somewhat less of fear; but could by no means
venture to turn about, and go on our way. I was, I remember, vexed at
what I thought the groundless fears of the women; but I do not know, to
this day, whether a war-party of Sioux, or three owls, frightened us
back. We returned several miles, and expecting, in about ten days, that
the traders would be on their way down, we determined to wait for them.
Here we caught great numbers of young geese, swans, and ducks; and I
killed an elk, which, as it was my first, must be celebrated by a feast,
though there were none but our own family to partake of it.
With the traders who came, according to our expectation, we went down
to the house at Lake Winnipeg, where we remained two months. When they
were about to return to the Assinneboin, we purchased a bark canoe, and
accompanied them. We had a good many beaver skins, and Net-no-kwa bought
a keg of rum with some of them for Pe-shau-ba. The keg held about five
or six gallons, and we gave six beaver skins for a quart. Many of these
beavers I had taken myself. I have killed as many as one hundred in a
course of a month, but then I did not know the value of them.