I receive a proposal from a chief to marry his daughter—theft
and drunkenness—manner of pursuing the elk on foot—disease and
great mortality among the beaver—second offer of marriage from
an A-go-kwa—haunted encampment, called the “place of the two
dead men”—Indian courtship—distressing sickness—insanity and
attempt at suicide—gambling—several offers of young women in
marriage—my courtship and marriage with Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa, (the
red sky of the morning.)
The spring having now come, we returned by the way of our old sugar camp
towards Menaukonoskego, but as I disliked to be with the Indians in their
seasons of drunkenness, I dissuaded the old woman from accompanying them
to the trading-house. I talked to her of the foolishness of wasting all
our peltries in purchasing what was not only useless, but hurtful and
poisonous to us, and was happy to find that I had influence enough with
her to take her immediately to the place I had selected for my hunting
camp. She went to see Wa-ge-tote, to take leave of him, but when she
returned, I readily perceived by her manner that something unusual had
passed. Presently she took me to one side, and began to say to me,
“My son, you see that I am now become old; am scarce able to make you
moccasins, to dress and preserve all your skins, and do all that is
needful about your lodge. You are now about taking your place as a man
and a hunter, and it is right you should have some one who is young
and strong to look after your property and take care of your lodge.
Wa-ge-tote, who is a good man, and one respected by all the Indians,
will give you his daughter. You will thus gain a powerful friend and
protector, who will be able to assist us in times of difficulty, and
I shall be relieved from much anxiety and care for our family.” Much
more she said, in the same strain, but I told her without hesitation
that I would not comply with her request. I had as yet thought little
of marriage among the Indians, still thinking I should return before I
became old, to marry to the whites. At all events, I assured her I could
not now marry the woman she proposed to me. She still insisted that I
must take her, stating that the whole affair had been settled between
Wa-ge-tote and herself, and that the young woman had said she was not
disinclined to the match, and she pretended she could do no otherwise
than bring her to the lodge. I told her if she did so I should not treat
or consider her as my wife. The affair was in this situation the morning
but one before we were to separate from Wa-ge-tote and all his band, and,
without coming to any better understanding with the old woman, I took
my gun early in the morning, and went to hunt elk. In the course of the
day I killed a fat buck, and returning late in the evening, I hung up
the meat I had brought before the lodge, and carefully reconnoitered the
inside before I entered, intending, if the young woman was there, to go
to some other lodge and sleep, but I could see nothing of her.
Next morning Wa-ge-tote came to my lodge to see me. He expressed all the
interest in me which he had been in the habit of doing, and gave me much
friendly advice, and many good wishes. After this Net-no-kwa returned
again, urging me to marry the daughter, but I did not consent. These
attempts were afterwards, from time to time, renewed, until the young
woman found a husband in some other man.
After Wa-ge-tote and his band had left us, we went to the hunting ground
I had chosen, where we spent a great part of the summer by ourselves,
having always plenty to eat, as I killed great numbers of elks, beavers,
and other animals. Late in the fall we went to the trading-house at
Me-nau-ko-nos-keeg, where we met with Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon, who had
left us the year before, and with him we remained.
As the trader was coming to his wintering ground, the Indians, having
assembled in considerable numbers, met him at the lake, at the distance
of a few miles from his house. He had brought a large quantity of rum,
and, as was usual, he encamped for several days that the Indians might
buy and drink what they could before he went to his house, as they would
give him less trouble at his camp. I had the presence of mind to purchase
some of the most needful articles for the winter, such as blankets and
ammunition, as soon as we met him. After we had completed our trade,
the old woman took ten fine beaver skins, and presented them to the
trader. In return for this accustomed present, she was in the habit of
receiving every year a chief’s dress and ornaments, and a ten gallon keg
of spirits, but when the trader sent for her to deliver his present, she
was too drunk to stand. In this emergency, it was necessary for me to
go and receive the articles. I had been drinking something, and was not
entirely sober. I put on the chief’s coat and ornaments, and taking the
keg on my shoulder, carried it home to our lodge, placed it on one end,
and knocked out the head with an axe. “I am not,” said I, “one of those
chiefs who draw liquor out of a small hole in a cask, let all those who
are thirsty come and drink;” but I took the precaution to hide away a
small keg full, and some in a kettle, probably in all three gallons. The
old woman then came in with three kettles, and in about five minutes the
keg was emptied. This was the second time that I had joined the Indians
in drinking, and now I was guilty of much greater excess than before.
I visited my hidden keg frequently, and remained intoxicated two days.
I took what I had in the kettle, and went into the lodge to drink with
Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon, whom I called my brother, he being the son of
Net-no-kwa’s sister. He was not yet drunk, but his wife, whose dress
was profusely ornamented with silver, had been for some time drinking,
and was now lying by the fire in a state of absolute insensibility.
Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon and myself took our little kettle and sat down
to drink, and presently an Ojibbeway of our acquaintance, staggered in
and fell down by the fire near the woman. It was late at night, but the
noise of drunkenness was heard in every part of the camp, and I and my
companion started out to go and drink wherever we could find any to give
us liquor. As, however, we were not excessively drunk, we were careful to
hide away the kettle which contained our whiskey in the back part of the
lodge, covering it, as we thought, effectually from the view of any that
might come in. After an excursion of some hours, we returned. The woman
was still lying by the fire, insensible as before, but with her dress
stripped of its profusion of silver ornaments, and when we went for our
kettle of rum, it was not to be found. The Ojibbeway, who had been lying
by the fire, had gone out, and some circumstances induced us to suspect
him of the theft, and I soon understood that he had said I had given him
something to drink. I went next morning to his lodge, and asked him for
my little kettle, which he directed his squaw to bring to me. Having this
fixed the theft upon him. Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon went and recovered the
ornaments of his wife’s dress. This Ojibbeway was a man of considerable
pretensions, wishing to be reckoned a chief, but this unfortunate attempt
at theft injured his standing in the estimation of the people. The affair
was long remembered, and he was ever after mentioned with contempt.
About this time, old Net-no-kwa began to wake from her long continued
drunkenness. She called me to her, and asked me whether I had received
the chief’s dress, and the keg of rum. She was unwilling to believe
that I had suffered all the contents of the keg to be expended without
reserving some for her. When she came to be assured not only that this
was the case, but that I had been drunk for two days, she reproached me
severely, censuring me not only for ingratitude to her, but for being
such a beast as to be drunk. The Indians hearing her, told her she had no
right to complain of me for doing as she herself had taught me, and by
way of pacifying her, they soon contributed rum enough to make her once
more completely drunk.
As soon as their peltries were all disposed of, so that they were
compelled to discontinue drinking, the Indians began to disperse to their
hunting grounds. We went with the trader to his house, where we left
our canoes, and thence to the woods with Waw-zhe-kawaw-maish-koon to
hunt. We now constituted but one family, but his part of it was large,
he having many young children. Cold weather had scarce commenced, and
the snow was no more than a foot deep, when we began to be pinched with
hunger. We found a herd of elks, and chasing them one day, overtook and
killed four of them. When the Indians hunt elk in this manner, after
starting the herd they follow them at such a gait as they think they can
keep for many hours. The elks being frightened outstrip them at first by
many miles, but the Indians, following at a steady pace along the path,
at length come in sight of them. They then make another effort, and are
no more seen for an hour or two, but the intervals at which the Indians
have them in sight, grow more and more frequent, and longer and longer,
until they cease to lose sight of them at all. The elks are now so much
fatigued that they can only move in a slow trot, at last they can but
walk, by which time the strength of the Indians is nearly exhausted. They
are commonly able to come up and fire into the rear of the herd, but the
discharge of a gun quickens the motions of the elks, and it is a very
active and determined man that can in this way come near enough to do
execution more than once or twice, unless when the snow is pretty deep.
The elk, in running, does not lift his feet well from the ground, so
that, in deep snow, he is easily taken. There are among the Indians some,
but not many, men who can run down an elk on the smooth prairie, when
there is neither snow nor ice. The moose and the buffalo surpass the elk
in fleetness, and can rarely be taken by fair running by a man on foot.
The flesh of the four elks was dried, but by no means equally divided
between us in proportion to the size and wants of our respective
families. I made no complaint as I knew I was a poor hunter, and had
aided but little in taking them. Afterwards, I directed my attention more
to the hunting of beaver. I knew of more than twenty gangs of beaver
in the country about my camp, and I now went and began to break up the
lodges, but I was much surprised to find nearly all of them empty. At
last I found that some kind of distemper was prevailing among these
animals which destroyed them in vast numbers. I found them dead and dying
in the water, on the ice, and on the land. Sometimes I found one that,
having cut a tree half down, had died at its roots; sometimes one who
had drawn a stick of timber half way to his lodge was lying dead by
his burthen. Many of them which I opened, were red and bloody about the
heart. Those in large rivers and running water suffered less. Almost all
of those that lived in ponds and stagnant water, died. Since that year
the beaver have never been so plentiful in the country of Red River and
Hudson’s Bay, as they used formerly to be. Those animals which died of
this sickness we were afraid to eat, but their skins were good.
It often happened while we lived with Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon, that we
were suffering from hunger. Once, after a day and night in which we had
not tasted a mouthful, I went with him to hunt, and we found a herd of
elks. We killed two and wounded a third, which we pursued until night,
when we overtook it. We cut up the meat and covered it in the snow, but
he took not a mouthful for our immediate use, though we were so far from
home, and it was now so late that we did not think of moving towards home
until the following day. I knew that he had fasted as long as I had, and
though my suffering from hunger was extreme, I was ashamed to ask him for
anything to eat, thinking I could endure it as long as he could. In the
morning he gave me a little meat, but without stopping to cook any thing,
we started for home. It was afternoon when we arrived, and Net-no-kwa
seeing we had brought meat, said, “well, my son, I suppose you have eaten
very heartily last night, after your long fast.” I told her I had as yet
eaten nothing. She immediately cooked part of what he had given me, all
of which lasted us no more than two days. I still knew of two gangs of
beaver that had escaped the prevailing sickness, and I took my traps and
went in pursuit of them. In a day or two I had taken eight, two of which
I gave to Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon.
Some time in the course of this winter, there came to our lodge one of
the sons of the celebrated Ojibbeway chief, called Wesh-ko-bug, (the
sweet,) who lived at Leech Lake. This man was one of those who make
themselves women, and are called women by the Indians. There are several
of this sort among most, if not all the Indian tribes. They are commonly
called A-go-kwa, a word which is expressive of their condition. This
creature, called Ozaw-wen-dib, (the yellow head,) was now near fifty
years old, and had lived with many husbands. I do not know whether she
had seen me, or only heard of me, but she soon let me know she had come
a long distance to see me, and with the hope of living with me. She
often offered herself to me, but not being discouraged with one refusal,
she repeated her disgusting advances until I was almost driven from the
lodge. Old Net-no-kwa was perfectly well acquainted with her character,
and only laughed at the embarrassment and shame which I evinced whenever
she addressed me. She seemed rather to countenance and encourage the
Yellow Head in remaining at our lodge. The latter was very expert in the
various employments of the women, to which all her time was given. At
length, despairing of success in her addresses to me, or being too much
pinched by hunger, which was commonly felt in our lodge, she disappeared,
and was absent three or four days. I began to hope I should be no more
troubled with her, when she came back loaded with dry meat. She stated
that she had found the band of Wa-ge-to-tah-gun, and that that chief
had sent by her an invitation for us to join him. He had heard of the
niggardly conduct of Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon towards us, and had sent
the A-go-kwa to say to me, “my nephew, I do not wish you to stay there
to look at the meat that another kills, but is too mean to give you.
Come to me, and neither you nor my sister shall want any thing it is
in my power to give you.” I was glad enough of this invitation, and
started immediately. At the first encampment, as I was doing something
by the fire, I heard the A-go-kwa at no great distance in the woods,
whistling to call me. Approaching the place, I found she had her eyes on
game of some kind, and presently I discovered a moose. I shot him twice
in succession, and twice he fell at the report of the gun, but it is
probable I shot too high, for at last he escaped. The old woman reproved
me severely for this, telling me she feared I should never be a good
hunter. But before night the next day, we arrived at Wa-ge-tote’s lodge,
where we ate as much as we wished. Here, also, I found myself relieved
from the persecutions of the A-go-kwa, which had become intolerable.
Wa-go-tote, who had two wives, married her. This introduction of a new
inmate into the family of Wa-ge-tote, occasioned some laughter, and
produced some ludicrous incidents, but was attended with less uneasiness
and quarreling than would have been the bringing in of a new wife of the
female sex.
This band consisted of a large number of Indians, and the country about
them was hunted poor, so that few even of the best hunters were able to
kill game often. It so happened that myself and another man, who, like
me, was reputed a poor hunter, killed more frequently than others. The
Indians now collected for the solemn ceremony of the meta or mediance
dance, in which Net-no-kwa always bore a very conspicuous part. I began
to be dissatisfied at remaining with large bands of Indians, as it was
usual for them, after having remained a short time in a place, to suffer
from hunger. I therefore made a road for myself, and set my traps in a
gang of beavers. When I signified to Wa-ge-tote my intention of leaving
him, he said he was much afraid I should perish of hunger if I went far
away by myself. I refused, however, to listen to his advice or persuasion
to remain with him, and he then determined to accompany me to my traps,
to see what place I had selected and judge whether I should be able to
support my family. When we arrived, he found I had caught one large
beaver. He advised and encouraged me, and after telling me where I should
find his camp in case of being pressed by poverty, he returned.
My family had now been increased by the addition of a poor old Ojibbeway
woman and two children, who being destitute of any men, had been taken up
by Net-no-kwa. Notwithstanding this, I thought it was still best for us
to live by ourselves. I hunted with considerable success, and remained
by myself until the end of the season for making sugar, when Net-no-kwa
determined to return to Menaukonoskeeg, while I should go to the trading
house at Red River to purchase some necessary articles. I made a pack of
beaver and started by myself in a small buffalo skin canoe, only large
enough to carry me and my pack, and descended the Little Saskawjewun.
There is, on the bank of that river, a place which looks like one the
Indians would always choose to encamp at. In a bend of the river is a
beautiful landing place, behind it a little plain, a thick wood, and a
small hill rising abruptly in the rear. But with that spot is connected a
story of fratricide, a crime so uncommon that the spot where it happened
is held in detestation, and regarded with terror. No Indian will land his
canoe, much less encamp, at “_The Place Of The Two Dead Men_.”[20] They
relate that many years ago the Indians were encamped here, when a quarrel
arose between two brothers having she-she-gwi for totems. One drew his
knife and slew the other, but those of the band who were present looked
upon the crime as so horrid that without hesitation or delay, they killed
the murderer and buried them together.
As I approached this spot, I thought much of the story of the two
brothers who bore the same totem with myself, and were, as I supposed,
related to my Indian mother. I had heard it said that if any man encamped
near their graves, as some had done soon after they were buried, they
would be seen to come out of the ground, and either react the quarrel and
the murder, or in some other manner so annoy and disturb their visitors
that they could not sleep. Curiosity was in part my motive, and I wished
to be able to tell the Indians that I had not only stopped, but slept
quietly at a place which they shunned with so much fear and caution.
The sun was going down as I arrived. I pushed my little canoe in to the
shore, kindled a fire, and after eating my supper, lay down and slept.
Very soon, I saw the two dead men come and sit down by my fire, opposite
me. Their eyes were intently fixed upon me, but they neither smiled, nor
say any thing. I got up and sat opposite them by the fire, and in this
situation I awoke. The night was dark and gusty, but I saw no men, or
heard any other sounds than that of the wind in the trees. It is likely
I fell asleep again, for I soon saw the same two men standing below the
bank of the river, their heads just rising to the level of the ground
I had made my fire on, and looking at me as before. After a few minutes
they rose one after the other, and sat down opposite me; but now they
were laughing, and pushing at me with sticks, and using various methods
of annoyance. I endeavoured to speak to them, but my voice failed me.
I tried to fly, but my feet refused to do their office. Throughout the
whole night I was in a state of agitation and alarm. Among other things
which they said to me, one of them told me to look at the top of the
little hill which stood near. I did so, and saw a horse fettered, and
standing looking at me. “There, my brother,” said the jebi, “is a horse
which I give you to ride on your journey to-morrow, and as you pass here
on your way home, you can call and leave the horse, and spend another
night with us.”
At last came the morning, and I was in no small degree pleased to find
that with the darkness of the night these terrifying visions vanished.
But my long residence among the Indians, and the frequent instances in
which I had known the intimations of dreams verified, occasioned me to
think seriously of the horse the jebi had given me. Accordingly I went
to the top of the hill, where I discovered tracks and other signs, and
following a little distance, found a horse which I knew belonged to the
trader I was going to see. As several miles travel might be saved by
crossing from this point on the Little Saskawjewun to the Assinneboin,
I left the canoe, and having caught the horse, and put my load upon
him, led him towards the trading house where I arrived next day. In all
subsequent journeys through this country, I carefully shunned “the place
of the two dead,” and the account I gave of what I had seen and suffered
there, confirmed the superstitious terrors of the Indians.
After I returned from trading at the Red River, I went to live at
Naowawgunwudju, the hill of the buffalo chase, near the Saskawjewun. This
is a high rocky hill, where mines may probably be found, as there are
in the rocks many singular looking masses. Here we found sugar trees in
plenty, and a good place for passing the spring. Game was so abundant,
and the situation so desirable, that I concluded to remain instead of
going with all the Indians to Clear Water Lake, where they assembled to
have their usual drunken frolic. I had sent for Wa-me-gon-a-biew, and he
now joined us here with one horse, making our whole number three. All
these, all our dogs, and ourselves, were loaded with the meat of one
moose, which I killed at this time, the largest and the fattest one I had
ever seen.
Wa-me-gon-a-biew, after remaining with me four days, went to look for
Wa-ge-tote, but without telling me any thing of his business. In a
few days he returned, and told me that he had been to see Wa-ge-tote
on account of his daughter that had been so often offered to me, and
wished to know if I had any intention to marry her. I told him I had
not, and that I was very willing to afford him any aid in my power in
furtherance of his design. He wished me to return with him, probably
that I might remove any impression the old people might have, that I
would marry the girl, and accompany him in bringing her home. I assented
without reflection, to this proposal and as we were about making our
preparations to start, I perceived from Net-no-kwa’s countenance, though
she said nothing, that the course we were taking displeased her. I then
recollected that it was not the business of young men to bring home
their wives, and I told Wa-me-gon-a-biew that we should be ridiculed by
all the people if we persisted in our design. “Here,” said I, “is our
mother, whose business it is to find wives for us when we want them, and
she will bring them, and show them our places in the lodge whenever it
is right she should do so.” The old woman was manifestly pleased with
what I said, and expressed her willingness to go immediately and bring
home the daughter of Wa-ge-tote. She went accordingly, and it so happened
that when she returned bringing the girl, Wa-me-gon-a-biew and myself
were sitting inside the lodge. It appeared that neither Wa-me-gon-a-biew,
nor the old woman, had been at the pains to give her any very particular
information, for when she came in, she was evidently at a loss to know
which of the young men before her had chosen her for a wife. Net-no-kwa
perceiving her embarrassment, told her to sit down near Wa-me-gon-a-biew,
for him it was whom she was to consider her husband. After a few days,
he took her home to his other wife, with whom she lived in harmony.
In the ensuing fall, when I was something more than twenty-one years of
age, I moved, with Wa-me-gon-a-biew, and many other families of Indians,
to the Wild Rice. While we were engaged in collecting and preparing the
grain, many among us were seized with a violent sickness. It commenced
with cough and hoarseness, and sometimes bleeding from the mouth or nose.
In a short time many died, and none were able to hunt. Although I did not
escape entirely, my attack appeared at first less violent than that of
most others. There had been for several days no meat in the encampment.
Some of the children had not been sick, and some of those who had been
sick, now began to recover, and needed some food. There was but one man
beside myself as capable of exertion as I was, and he, like myself, was
recovering. We were wholly unable to walk, and could scarce mount our
horses when they were brought to us by the children. Had we been able
to walk, we coughed so loudly and so incessantly that we could never
have approached near enough to any game to kill it by still hunting. In
this emergency we rode into the plains, and were fortunate enough to
overtake and kill a bear. Of the flesh of this animal we could not eat
a mouthful, but we took it home and distributed to every lodge an equal
portion. Still I continued to get better, and was among the first to
regain my health, as I supposed. In a few days I went out to hunt elk,
and in killing two of them in the space of two or three hours, I became
somewhat excited and fatigued. I cut up the meat, and as is usual, took
home a load on my back when I returned. I ate heartily of some which
they cooked for me, then lay down and slept, but before the middle of
the night, I was waked by a dreadful pain in my ears. It appeared to me
that something was eating into my ears, and I called Wa-me-gon-a-biew
to look, but he could see nothing. The pain became more and more
excruciating for two days, at the end of which time I became insensible.
When my consciousness returned, which was, as I learned afterwards,
at the end of two days, I found myself sitting outside the lodge. I
saw the Indians on all sides of me drinking, some trader having come
among them. Some were quarrelling, particularly a group amongst which I
distinguished Wa-me-gon-a-biew, and saw him stab a horse with his knife.
Then I immediately became insensible and remained so probably for some
days, as I was unconscious of every thing that passed until the band were
nearly ready to move from the place where we had been living. My strength
was not entirely gone, and when I came to my right mind, I could walk
about. I reflected much on all that had passed since I had been among the
Indians. I had in the main been contented since residing in the family
of Net-no-kwa, but this sickness I looked upon as the commencement of
misfortune which was to follow me through life. My hearing was gone for
abscesses had formed and discharged in each ear, and I could now hear
but very imperfectly. I sat down in the lodge, and could see the faces
of men, and their lips moving, but knew not what they said. I took my
gun and went to hunt, but the animals discovered me before I could see
them, and if by accident I saw a moose or an elk, and endeavoured to get
near him, I found that my cunning and my success had deserted me. I soon
imagined that the very animals knew that I had become like an old and
useless man.
Under the influence of these painful feelings, I resolved to destroy
myself, as the only means of escaping the certain misery which I saw
before me. When they were ready to move, Net-no-kwa had my horse brought
to the door of the lodge, and asked me if I was able to get on and
ride to the place where they intended to encamp. I told her I was, and
requesting that my gun might be left with me, said I would follow the
party at a little distance. I took the rein of my horse’s bridle in my
hand, and sitting down, watched the people as group after group passed
me and disappeared. When the last old woman, and her heavy load of
pukkwi mats, sunk behind the little swell of the prairie that bounded my
prospect, I felt much relieved. I cast loose the reins of the bridle, and
suffered my horse to feed at large. I then cocked my gun, and resting the
butt of it on the ground, I put the muzzle to my throat, and proceeded
with the ramrod, which I had drawn for the purpose, to discharge it.
I knew that the lock was in good order; also, that the piece had been
well loaded but a day or two before; but I now found that the charge
had been drawn. My powder horn and ball pouch always contained more
or less ammunition, but on examination, I found them empty. My knife
also, which I commonly carried appended to the strap of my shot pouch,
was gone. Finding myself baffled in the attempt to take my own life, I
seized my gun with both hands by the muzzle, and threw it from me with
my utmost strength, then mounted my horse, who, contrary to his usual
custom, and to what I had expected from him, had remained near me after
being released. I soon overtook the party, for being probably aware of
my intentions, Wa-me-gon-a-biew and Net-no-kwa had gone but far enough
to conceal themselves from my view, and had then sat down to wait. It
is probable that in my insane ravings, I had talked of my intention to
destroy myself, and on this account they had been careful to deprive me
of the most ordinary and direct means of effecting my purpose.
Suicide is not very unfrequent among the Indians, and is effected in
various ways; shooting, hanging, drowning, poisoning, etc. The causes,
also, which urge to desperate act, are various. Some years previous to
the time I now speak of, I was with Net-no-kwa, at Mackinac, when I knew
a very promising and highly respected young man of the Ottawwaws who shot
himself in the Indian burying grounds. He had, for the first time, drank
to intoxication, and in the alienation of mind produced by the liquor had
torn off his own clothes, and behaved with so much violence that his two
sisters, to prevent him from injuring himself or others, tied his hands
and feet, and laid him down in the lodge. Next morning, he awoke sober,
and being untied, went to his sister’s lodge, which was near the burying
ground, borrowed a gun, under pretense of going to shoot pigeons, and
went into the burying ground and shot himself. It is probable that when
he awoke and found himself tied, he thought he had done something very
improper in his drunkenness, and to relieve himself from the pressure of
shame and mortification, had ended his days by violence. Misfortunes and
losses of various kinds, sometimes the death of friends, and possibly, in
some instances, disappointment in affairs of love, may be considered the
causes which produce suicide among the Indians.
I reproached Wa-me-gon-a-biew for his conduct towards me in unloading my
gun, and taking away my ammunition, though it was probably done by the
old woman. After I recovered my health more perfectly, I began to feel
ashamed of this attempt, but my friends were so considerate as never to
mention it to me. Though my health soon became good, I did not recover
my hearing, and it was several months before I could hunt as well as I
had been able to do previous to my sickness, but I was not among those
who suffered most severely by this terrible complaint. Of the Indians who
survived, some were permanently deaf, others injured in their intellects,
and some, in the fury occasioned by the disease, dashed themselves
against trees and rocks, breaking their arms or otherwise maiming
themselves. Most of those who survived had copious discharges from the
ears, or in the earlier stages had bled profusely from the nose. This
disease was entirely new to the Indians, and they attempted to use few or
no remedies for it.
On going to Mouse River trading-house, I heard that some white people
from the United States had been there to purchase some articles for the
use of their party, then living at the Mandan village. I regretted that
I had missed the opportunity of seeing them but as I had received the
impression that they were to remain permanently there, I thought I would
take some opportunity to visit them. I have since been informed that
these white men were some of the party of Governor Clark and Captain
Lewis, then on their way to the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean.
Late in the fall, we went to Ke-nu-kau-ne-she-way-bo-ant, where game was
then plenty, and where we determined to spend the winter. Here, for the
first time, I joined deeply with Wa-me-gon-a-biew and other Indians, in
gambling, a vice scarce less hurtful to them than drunkenness. One of
the games we used was that of the moccasin, which is played by any number
of persons, but usually in small parties. Four moccasins are used, and in
one of them some small object, such as a little stick, or a small piece
of cloth, is hid by one of the betting parties. The moccasins are laid
down beside each other, and one of the adverse party is then to touch two
of the moccasins with his finger, or a stick. If the one he first touches
has the hidden thing in it, the player loses eight to the opposite party;
if it is not in the second he touches, but in one of the two passed over,
he loses two. If it is not in the one he touches first, and is in the
last, he wins eight. The Crees play this game differently, putting the
hand successively into all the moccasins, endeavouring to come last to
that which contains the article; but if the hand is thrust first into the
one containing it, he loses eight. They fix the value of articles staked
by agreement. For instance, they sometimes call a beaver skin, or a
blanket, ten; sometimes a horse is one hundred. With strangers, they are
apt to play high. In such cases a horse is sometimes valued at ten.
But it is the game called Bug-ga-sauk, or Beg-ga-sah, that they play
with the most intense interest, and the most hurtful consequences. The
beg-ga-sah-nuk are small pieces of wood, bone, or sometimes of brass made
by cutting up an old kettle. One side they stain or colour black, the
other they aim to have bright. These may vary in number, but can never be
fewer than nine. They are put together into a large wooden bowl, or tray,
kept for the purpose. The two parties, sometimes twenty or thirty, sit
down opposite each other, or in a circle. The play consists in striking
the edge of the bowl in such a manner as to throw all the beg-ga-sah-nuk
into the air, and on the manner in which they fall into the tray depends
his gain or loss. If his stroke has been to a certain extent fortunate,
the player strikes again, and again, as in the game of billiards, until
he misses, when it passes to the next. The parties soon become much
excited, and a frequent cause of quarrelling is that one often snatches
the tray from his neighbour before the latter is satisfied that the throw
has been against him.
Old and sensible people among them are much opposed to this game, and it
was never until this winter that Net-no-kwa suffered me to join in it. In
the beginning, our party had some success, but we returned to it again
and again, until we were stripped of every thing. When we had nothing
more to lose, the band which had played against us removed and camped
at a distance, and, as is usual, boasted much of their success. When I
heard of this, I called together the men of our party, and proposed to
them that by way of making an effort to regain our lost property, and
put an end to their insolent boasting, we would go and shoot at a mark
with them. We accordingly raised some property among our friends, and
went in a body to visit them. Seeing that we had brought something, they
consented to play with us. So we set down to Beg-ga-sah, and in the
course of the evening re-took as much of our lost property as enabled
us to offer, next morning, a very handsome bet on the result of a trial
of shooting the mark. We staked every thing we could command. They were
loath to engage us, but could not decently decline. We fixed a mark at
the distance of one hundred yards, and I shot first, placing my ball
nearly in the center. Not one of either party came near me; of course I
won, and we thus regained the greater part of what we had lost during the
winter.
Late in the spring, when we were nearly ready to leave
Ke-nu-kau-ne-she-way-bo-ant, an old man, called O-zhusk-koo-koon, (the
muskrat’s liver,) a chief of the Me-tai, came to my lodge, bringing
a young woman, his grand-daughter, together with the girl’s parents.
This was a handsome young girl, not more than fifteen years old, but
Net-no-kwa did not think favourably of her. She said to me, “My son,
these people will not cease to trouble you if you remain here, and as the
girl is by no means fit to become your wife, I advise you to take your
gun and go away. Make a hunting camp at some distance, and do not return
till they have time to see that you are decidedly disinclined to the
match.” I did so, and O-zhusk-koo-koon apparently relinquished the hope
of marrying me to his grand-daughter.
Soon after I returned, I was standing by our lodge one evening, when I
saw a good looking young woman walking about and smoking. She noticed me
from time to time, and at last came up and asked me to smoke with her. I
answered that I never smoked. “You do not wish to touch my pipe, for that
reason you will not smoke with me.” I took her pipe and smoked a little,
though I had not been in the habit of smoking before. She remained some
time, and talked with me, and I began to be pleased with her. After this
we saw each other often, and I became gradually attached to her.
I mention this because it was to this woman that I was afterwards
married, and because the commencement of our acquaintance was not after
the usual manner of the Indians. Among them it most commonly happens,
even when a young man marries a woman of his own band, he has previously
had no personal acquaintance with her. They have seen each other in the
village. He has perhaps looked at her in passing, but it is probable they
have never spoken together. The match is agreed on by the old people, and
when their intention is made known to the young couple, they commonly
find, in themselves, no objection to the arrangement, as they know,
should it prove disagreeable mutually, or to either party, it can at any
time be broken off.
My conversations with Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa, (the red sky of the morning,)
for such was the name of the woman who offered me her pipe, was soon
noised about the village. Hearing it, and inferring, probably, that
like other young men of my age I was thinking of taking a wife, old
O-zhusk-koo-koon came one day to our lodge, leading by the hand another
of his numerous grand-daughters. “This,” said he, to Net-no-kwa, “is the
handsomest and the best of all my descendants. I come to offer her to
your son.” So saying, he left her in the lodge and went away. This young
woman was one Net-no-kwa had always treated with unusual kindness, and
she was considered one of the most desirable in the band. The old woman
was now somewhat embarrassed, but at length she found an opportunity
to say to me, “My son, this girl which O-zhusk-koo-koon offers you is
handsome, and she is good, but you must not marry her for she has that
about her which will, in less than a year, bring her to her grave. It
is necessary that you should have a woman who is strong and free of any
disease. Let us, therefore, make this young woman a handsome present, for
she deserves well at our hands, and send her back to her father.” She
accordingly gave her goods to considerable amount, and she went home.
Less than a year afterwards, according to the old woman’s prediction, she
died.
In the mean time, Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa and myself were becoming more and
more intimate. It is probable Net-no-kwa did not disapprove of the course
I was now about to take, as, though I said nothing to her on the subject,
she could not have been ignorant of what I was doing. That she was not I
found, when after spending, for the first time, a considerable part of
the night with my mistress, I crept into the lodge at a late hour and
went to sleep. A smart rapping on my naked feet waked me at the first
appearance of dawn on the following morning. “Up,” said the old woman,
who stood by me with a stick in her hand, “up, young man, you who are
about to take yourself a wife, up, and start after game. It will raise
you more in the estimation of the woman you would marry to see you bring
home a load of meat early in the morning than to see you dressed ever so
gaily, standing about the village after the hunters are all gone out.” I
could make her no answer, but putting on my moccasins, took my gun and
went out. Returning before noon, with as heavy a load of fat moose meat
as I could carry, I threw it down before Net-no-kwa, and with a harsh
tone of voice said to her, “Here, old woman, is what you called for in
the morning.” She was much pleased, and commended me for my exertion. I
now became satisfied that she was not displeased on account of my affair
with Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa, and it gave me no small pleasure to think that my
conduct met her approbation. There are many of the Indians who throw away
and neglect their old people, but though Net-no-kwa was now decrepit and
infirm, I felt the strongest regard for her, and continued to do so while
she lived.
I now redoubled my diligence in hunting, and commonly came home with
meat in the early part of the day, at least before night. I then dressed
myself as handsomely as I could, and walked about the village, sometimes
blowing the Pe-be-gwun, or flute. For some time Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa
pretended she was not willing to marry me, and it was not, perhaps, until
she perceived some abatement of ardour on my part, that she laid this
affected coyness entirely aside. For my own part, I found that my anxiety
to take a wife home to my lodge was rapidly becoming less and less. I
made several efforts to break off the intercourse, and visit her no more,
but a lingering inclination was too strong for me. When she perceived my
growing indifference, she sometimes reproached me, and sometimes sought
to move me by tears and entreaties, but I said nothing to the old woman
about bringing her home, and became daily more and more unwilling to
acknowledge her publicly as my wife.
About this time I had occasion to go to the trading-house on Red
River, and I started in company with a half breed belonging to that
establishment, who was mounted on a fleet horse. The distance we had to
travel has since been called, by the English settlers, seventy miles. We
rode and went on foot by turns, and the one who was on foot kept hold of
the horse’s tail and ran. We passed over the whole distance in one day.
In returning, I was by myself and without a horse, and I made an effort,
intending, if possible, to accomplish the same journey in one day; but
darkness, and excessive fatigue, compelled me to stop when I was within
about ten miles of home.
When I arrived at our lodge, on the following day, I saw
Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa sitting in my place. As I stopped at the door of the
lodge, and hesitated to enter, she hung down her head, but Net-no-kwa
greeted me in a tone somewhat harsher than was common for her to use to
me. “Will you turn back from the door of the lodge, and put this young
woman to shame, who is in all respects better than you are. This affair
has been of your seeking, and not of mine or hers. You have followed
her about the village heretofore; now you would turn from her, and make
her appear like one who has attempted to thrust herself in your way.” I
was, in part, conscious of the justness of Net-no-kwa’s reproaches, and
in part prompted by inclination. I went in and sat down by the side of
Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa, and thus we became man and wife. Old Net-no-kwa had,
while I was absent at Red River, without my knowledge or consent, made
her bargain with the parents of the young woman and brought her home,
rightly supposing that it would be no difficult matter to reconcile me to
the measure. In most of the marriages which happen between young persons,
the parties most interested have less to do than in this case. The amount
of presents which the parents of a woman expect to receive in exchange
for her, diminishes in proportion to the number of husbands she may have
had.