Suffering of the Ojibbeways from hunger—persecutions of
Waw-be-be-nai-sa, and unkindness of my Indian relatives—journey
to Detroit—Governor Cass—Council at St. Mary, on the Miami.
All the men who were still able to walk now determined to start after
buffalo, which we knew could not then be very near us. For my own part,
I chose to remain, as did one good hunter besides, who knew that the
prospect of getting buffaloes was not good. We remained behind, and in a
short time killed five moose, all the flesh of which being immediately
distributed among the suffering women and children, afforded some relief,
and checked the progress of death which was making extensive havoc among
us. The men returned one after another, more worn out and reduced than
when they had left us. Only a single buffalo had been killed. As the
most incessant, and the most laborious exertions alone could save us
from perishing, I went immediately out to hunt again, and having started
a bear, I pursued him for three days without being able to come up with
him. At the end of this time I found myself so exhausted, that I knew
I could never overtake the bear, and I should not have reached home,
had not some Indians, little less miserable and hungry than myself,
happened to meet with me. I had stopped at night, and being unable to
make a camp, or kindle a fire, I was endeavouring to reconcile myself
to the immediate approach of death which I thought inevitable, when
these people unexpectedly found me, and helped me to return to camp.
This is but a fair specimen of the life which many of the Ojibbeways of
the north lead during the winter. Their barren and inhospitable country
affords them so scantily the means of subsistence, that it is only with
the utmost exertion and activity that life can be sustained, and it not
unfrequently happens that the strongest men, and the best hunters,
perish of absolute hunger.
Now the Indians again determined to move all together, towards the
buffaloes, and endeavour to reach them with their families. Only
Oon-di-no, the man who had remained with me before, wished to stay, that
his women might dry the skin of the last moose he had killed, so that
they might carry it with them to be eaten in case of the failure of all
other supplies. I concluded to remain with him, but in the middle of the
first night after the Indians left, the distress of my children became so
great that I could no longer remain in my lodge. I got up and started,
and told him that if I could kill or procure any game, I would return to
his relief. I pursued, rapidly as my strength would permit, the path of
the Indians, and about morning came up with their camp. I had no sooner
arrived then I heard the sounds of a feast and going up to the lodge, I
heard the voice of an old man, thanking the Great Spirit for the supply
that had been bestowed in the time of their necessity. He did not mention
the animal by name that had been killed, only calling it Manito-wais-se,
which means nearly “Spirit beast.” From this I could not ascertain what
had been killed, but from another source, I learned it was an old and
poor buffalo. From this I inferred that herds must be near, and two young
men being willing to join me, we went immediately in the direction in
which we believed the herd would be found, and after having walked about
three hours, ascended a little hill, and saw before us the ground black
with buffaloes. We crawled up, and I killed immediately two fat cows. As
I was cutting these up, I began to hear the guns of the men of our party,
they having followed me on, and being now arrived among the buffaloes.
It was somewhat late when I was ready to go to our camp, most of the men
were in before me. I had expected to have heard the sounds of feasting
and rejoicing, but when I entered the camp, not a voice was to be heard.
No women and children were running about, all was silent and sad. Can it
be, thought I, that this relief has come too late, and that our women
and children are all dead. I looked into one lodge after another. In
all, the people were alive, but none had any thing to eat. The men having
most of them come from a forest country, and having never hunted buffalo
before, all failed to kill except myself. The supply I had brought, I
having loaded the two young men that were with me, somewhat allayed the
hunger that was prevailing.
There was at this time with us a man called Waw-bebe-nai-sa, (White
Bird,) with whom I had formerly been somewhat acquainted, and whose
jealousy and ill will against me, seemed to be excited and irritated
by my success in hunting. It was on account of this man, and because
I wished to avoid all ostentation, that I now forbore to make a feast
in my own lodge, as would have been proper for me to have done on this
occasion. Nevertheless, one of the young men who had been with me made
a feast, and I, after reserving sufficient food to allay the pressing
hunger of my own children, sent the remainder to the families about me.
The young man who made the feast, called, among others, Waw-bebe-nais-sa,
the man I have mentioned. In the course of the evening, he said, as I
understood, much to prejudice me in the opinion of the Indians, accusing
me of pride, insolence, and of having in various ways done mischief among
them. But I remained in my own lodge, and at present took no notice of
this, farther than to contradict his unfair statements.
Next morning, long before the dawn, the women started for the remains of
the two buffalo I had killed, and several of the men, most of them having
obtained from me some instruction about the part to be aimed at, again
went in pursuit of the herds, and this day several of them killed. We
soon had plenty of meat, and all that were sick and near death recovered,
except one woman, who having gone mad with hunger, remained in a state of
derangement for more than a month.
The principal man of this band was called O-poih-gun,[32] (the pipe.) He,
with three lodges, remained with me, the others scattered here and there
in pursuit of the buffalo. One of the men who remained back with me, was
Waw-bebe-nais-sa, and another his son-in-law. I killed great numbers of
fat buffalo, and the choice parts of forty of them I had dried. We had
suffered so much from hunger that I wished to secure my family against
a return of it. I also still had it in contemplation to make my way to
the States when I knew it would be necessary for me to leave them for
some time without any one to hunt for them. I made twenty large sacks
of pemmican. Ten kegs of ten gallons each, which I procured from the
Indians, I filled with tallow, and preserved, besides, a considerable
number of tongues, etc.
It was not immediately that I discovered Waw-bebe-nais-sa’s design in
remaining near my camp, which was solely to annoy and molest me. I had
such large quantities of meat to carry when we came finally to move, that
I was compelled to return with my dogs four times, to carry forward to
my camping place, one load after another. One day he contrived to meet
me alone at the place where I deposited my loads, and I had no sooner
stopped, than he thrust both his hands into my long hair, which then hung
down on both sides of my head. “This,” said he, “is the head of your
road, look down and see the place where the wolves and the carrion birds
shall pick your bones.” I asked him why he offered me this violence.
“You are a stranger,” said he, “and have no right among us, but you set
yourself up for the best hunter, and would make us treat you as a great
man. For my own part, I have long been weary of your insolence, and I am
determined you shall not live another day.” Finding that remonstrance was
likely to have no effect upon him, but that he was proceeding to beat
my head against a poplar tree that stood there, by a sudden exertion of
strength, I threw him upon the ground, and disengaged my head at the
expense of part of my hair. But in the struggle, he caught three of the
fingers of my right hand between his teeth. Having sunk his strong teeth
quite to the bones of my fingers, I could not draw them out of his mouth,
but with my left hand aimed a blow at one of his eyes. His jaws flew
open, and he leapt instantly to his feet. My tomahawk was lying near
me, and his eye happening to fall upon it, he caught it in his hand, and
aimed so hearty a blow at my head, that as I eluded it, his own violence
brought him to the ground. I jumped upon him, wrenched the tomahawk from
his hand, and threw it as far as I could, while I continued to hold him
fast to the ground. I was much enraged at his unprovoked and violent
attack upon me; nevertheless I would not kill him, but seeing there a
piece of a stout lodge pole, I caught it in my hands, and told him to get
up. When he did so, I commenced beating him, and as he fled immediately,
I followed, and continued to beat him while he ran two or three hundred
yards.
When I returned to my load, his son-in-law and two other young men
belonging to him, having heard his cries, had come up. One of them
said angrily to me, “What is this you have done?” and immediately the
three rushed upon me, and I being already overcome with fatigue, they
threw me upon the ground. At this time Waw-bebe-nais-sa had returned,
and he caught me by a black silk handkerchief that I wore about my
neck, strangled, kicked, and beat me, and thrust me down in the snow. I
remember hearing one of them say, “he is dead,” and as I knew I could not
hope while I was down, to make resistance against four, I endeavoured to
encourage this opinion. When they took their hands off me, and stood at a
little distance, I sprang upon my feet, and seized a lodge pole, probably
very contrary to their expectations. Whether through surprise or fear I
know not, they all fled, and seeing this, I pursued Waw-bebe-nais-sa,
and gave him another severe beating with my pole. For this time they
left me, and I returned once more to hang up the meat I had brought. But
Waw-bebe-nais-sa and his people returned to the lodges, where my dogs,
which my wife had taken back, were lying, much fatigued, before the door.
He drew his knife, and stabbed one of them. My wife hearing the noise,
ran out, but he threatened to kill her also.
Next day, as Waw-bebe-nais-sa was much bruised and sore, and his face in
particular very badly swollen, I thought probable he would remain in his
lodge, and apprehending danger to my wife if she should be left alone
in the lodge, I sent her to carry forward meat, and remained myself at
home. But I was much fatigued, and being alone in my lodge, about the
middle of the day I fell asleep. Suspecting, or perhaps knowing this,
Waw-bebe-nais-sa crept slyly in with his knife in his hand, and was
almost near enough to strike me, when I awoke and sprang up. As I was not
unarmed, he started back and fled, but I did not pursue him. He still
continued to threaten and molest me. Whenever he met me in the path, he
would not turn aside, though he was unloaded, and I might have a heavy
burthen on my back. His eye was for many days so swollen that he could
not see out of it, and his whole appearance very ludicrous, he being at
best but an awkward and homely man. Once, after an unsuccessful attempt
to stab me, he went home, and in the impatience of his baffled rage, made
the squaw’s gesture of contempt towards my lodge,[33] which exposed him
to the ridicule even of his own friends among the Indians.
His persecutions were, however, troublesome to me, and I endeavoured to
avoid him. One day I had preceded the party, and as we were travelling
in a beaten path which I knew they would follow, I turned a little out
of it to place my camp where I should not necessarily be in the way of
seeing him. But when he came to the fork of my road, with his little son
twelve years old, I heard him say to the lad, “stop here while I go and
kill this white man.” He then threw down his load, and though his son
entreated him not to do any thing, he came up within about fifty yards of
me, drew his gun from its case, cocked it, and pointed it at me. Having
held it in this position some time, and seeing he did not excite my
fears, he began to approach me, jumping from side to side, and yelling
in the manner of warriors when they approach each other in battle. He
continued pointing his gun at me, and threatening me so loudly that I was
at last irritated, and caught up my own gun. The little boy ran up, and
throwing his arms about me, entreated me to spare his father, though he
was a fool. I then threw down my gun, seized the old man, and took his
from him. I reproached him for his obstinate perseverance in such foolish
practices. “I have,” said I, “put myself so often in your power, that you
ought by this time to know you have not courage to kill me. You are not
a man. You have not the heart even of a squaw, nor the courage of a dog.
Now for the first time I speak to you. I wish you to know that I am tired
of your foolishness, and that if you trouble me any more hereafter, it
will be at the hazard of your own life.”
He then left me, and with all the others, except my own family, went
on in advance. Next day I followed, drawing a loaded sled myself, and
driving my dogs with their loads before me. As we approached a thicket
of bushes, I cautioned my daughter Martha, that Waw-bebe-nais-sa might
probably be lying in ambush somewhere among them. Presently I saw her
leap several feet from the ground, then she came running towards me,
with her hands raised, and crying, “_My father! My father!_” I seized my
gun and sprang forward, examined every place for concealment, passed the
lodge poles, and the almost extinguished fires of their last encampement,
and returned without having discovered any thing. When I inquired of my
daughter what had occasioned her alarm, she said she had “smelt fire.” So
great was the terror and apprehension with which her mind was agitated on
account of the annoyances Waw-bebe-nais-sa had given us.
I was so glad to be released from the persecutions of this troublesome
man that I now resolved to stop at Rush Lake and remain there by myself,
as I thought it was the intention of Waw-bebe-nais-sa and the other
Indians to proceed immediately to the Lake of the Woods. So I selected
a place where I intended to establish my camp for the remainder of the
winter. Here I left my children to take care of the lodge, and my wife
and myself returned to bring up loads of meat. On coming home at night,
the children told us their grandmother had in our absence been to see
them, and had left word that her daughter must come on the following day
to see her, and that there were, in that place, three or four lodges
of our friends encamped together. I readily gave my consent to this
arrangement, and as my mother-in-law had left a message particularly
for me, I consented to accompany her, saying that we could bring up the
remainder of the meat after we should return. But that night I dreamed,
and the same young man whom I had repeatedly seen in the preparations
for my medicine hunts came down as usual through the hole in the top of
my lodge, and stood directly before me. “You must not go,” said he, “to
the place you propose to visit to-morrow. But if you persist, and will
disregard my admonition, you shall see what will happen to you there.
Look there,” said he, pointing in the opposite direction, and I saw
She-gwaw-koo-sink, Me-zhuk-ko-naun, and others of my friends coming.
Then pointing upwards, he told me to look, and I saw a small hawk with a
banded tail, flying about over my head. He said no more, but turned and
went out at the door of my lodge. I awoke much troubled in my mind, and
could sleep no more. In the morning, I told my wife I could not go with
her. “What is the reason,” said she, “you cannot accompany me as you
promised yesterday?” I told her my dream, but she accused me of fear, and
as she continued her solicitations, I finally consented to go.
In the morning, I told my children that their uncle and other Indians
would come to the lodge that day. That they must tell them, if I returned
at all, it would be by noon. If I did not come then, they might conclude
I was dead. I then started with my wife, but I had not gone two hundred
yards when I looked up and saw the same small hawk that had appeared
to me in my dream. I knew that this was sent to forewarn me of evil,
and again I told my wife I could not go. But though I turned back to go
towards my own lodge, she again reproached me with fear, and pretended
to ridicule my apprehensions. I knew, also, the strong prejudice that
existed against me in the family of my mother-in-law, and the tendency
of my refusing, in this case, to visit her, would be to confirm and
make them stronger. I therefore, though contrary to my better judgment,
consented to go on.
When I arrived at the lodge of my mother-in-law, I left my gun at the
door, went in, and took a seat between two of the sisters of my wife who
were the wives of one man. They had young children, and I was playing
with two of these, with my head down, when I heard a loud and sudden
noise, and immediately lost my senses. I saw no one, and I remembered
nothing till I began to revive. Then I found several women holding my
hands and arms, and I saw the expression of terror and alarm in the faces
of all about me. I could not comprehend my situation, and knew nothing
of what had happened, until I heard on the outside of the lodge, a loud
and insulting voice, which I knew to be that of Waw-bebe-nais-sa. I
now began to feel something like warm water on my face, and putting my
hand to my head, I laid my fingers on my naked skull. I at length broke
away from the women who held me, and pursued after Waw-bebe-nais-sa,
but I could not overtake him as the Indians assisted him in keeping out
of my way. Towards night I returned to my lodge, though very severely
wounded, and, as I believed, with the bones of my skull broken. A very
little blood had run down upon my face when I was first wounded, but for
a considerable time afterwards none flowed, and though I heard strange
noises in my head, I did not faint or fall down until I reached my own
lodge. My gun Waw-bebe-nais-sa had taken from the door of the lodge of my
mother-in-law, and I had to return without it.
At my lodge, I found She-gwaw-koo-sink, Me-zhuk-ko-naun, and
Nah-gaun-esh-kaw-waw, a son-in-law of Wa-ge-tote, more commonly called
Oto-pun-ne-be. The moment I took She-gwaw-koo-sink by the hand, the
blood spouted in a stream from my head. “What is the matter, my son?”
said he. “I have been at play with another man, and the water of the
Be-gwi-o-mus-ko having made us drunk, we have played rather roughly.” I
wished to treat the matter lightly, but as I immediately fainted away,
they saw the extent of the wound I had received. Oto-pun-ne-be had
formerly been an acquaintance of mine, and had always shown a friendly
disposition towards me. He now seemed much affected at my misfortune,
and of his own accord undertook to punish Waw-bebe-nais-sa for his
unjust violence. This man, to whom I was often under obligation for the
kindnesses he bestowed upon me, has since experienced the fate which
overtakes so many of all characters and descriptions of people among the
Ojibbeways of that country: he has perished of hunger.
When I had entered the lodge of my mother-in-law, I had omitted to
pull off the hood of my thick moose-skin capote, and it was this which
prevented me from noticing the entrance of Waw-bebe-nais-sa into the
lodge, or seeing, or hearing his approach towards me. It is probable
also, that had not my head been thus covered, the blow, had it been
made, would have proved instantly fatal to me, as the force of it must
have been somewhat broken by this thick covering of leather. But as it
was, the skull was fractured, and there is still a large ridge upon that
part of it where the edge of the tomahawk fell. It was very long before
I recovered from this wound, though the immediate confinement which
followed it did not last so long as I had feared it must.
Waw-bebe-nais-sa fled immediately to our village at Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung,
and the remainder of the people, having never hunted in the prairie
before now became panic struck at the idea that the Sioux would fall
upon their trail and pursue them. I was too weak to travel, and moreover
I knew well we were in no danger from the Sioux, but my mother-in-law
found much fault because I was not willing to start with the Indians. I
knew that my mother-in-law, and I had reason to suppose that my wife,
had been willing to aid Waw-bebe-nais-sa in his attempt on my life,
and I therefore told them both to leave me if they wished. They went
accordingly, and took all my children with them. The only person who
did not desert me at this time was Oto-pun-ne-be, as he was called from
his bear totem, with his cousin, a lad of fourteen years old. These two
remained and performed for me those offices of attention and kindness
which my situation required, while those who should have been my friends
abandoned me to my fate. After the fourth day, I became much worse, and
was unable to sit up, and almost to move, until the tenth day, when I
began to recover.
After I had gained a little strength, we left the lodges as they had
been abandoned by the Indians in their fright, all standing, some of
them filled with meat, and other valuable property, and started together
for the village. Our trader lived at some distance from the village,
and when we arrived at the place where the roads forked, I agreed with
Oto-pun-ne-be that I would meet him at an appointed place, on the day
which he named, as that on which he would return from the village. I went
accordingly to the trader’s, and he to the Indian’s camp. We met again at
the time and place agreed on, when he related to me, that he went to the
village, entered the lodge of one of the principal chiefs, and sat down.
He had not been long there, when Waw-bebe-nais-sa came in and sat down
opposite him. After regarding each other for some time, Waw-bebe-nais-sa
said to him, “You, Oto-pun-ne-be, have never been in our village before,
and I am not ignorant of the occasion which has brought you so far to see
us. You have no brothers of your own, the Long Knives having killed all
of them, and you are now so foolish as to call the man whom I beat the
other day your brother.” “It is not true,” said Oto-pun-ne-be, “that the
Long Knives have killed any brother of mine. But if they had, I would not
suffer you to fall upon my friend, who is as one of us, and abuse and
injure him, as you have done, without cause or provocation. It is true, I
call him my brother, and I will avenge his cause as if he were such, but
I will not spill blood in the lodge of this chief, who has received me as
a friend.” So saying, he took Waw-bebe-nais-sa by the hand, dragged him
out of the lodge, and was about to plunge the knife to his heart, when
the chief, who was a strong man, caught his hand, took away the knife,
and broke it. In the scuffle which ensued, three or four men were at
once upon Oto-pun-ne-be, but he being a powerful man, and not forgetting
the object of his journey, kept fast his grip upon Waw-bebe-nais-sa, and
did not quit him until two of his ribs were broken, and he was otherwise
severely injured. Oto-pun-ne-be was a quiet man, even when drunk, and if
he ever entered into a quarrel, it was more commonly, as in this case, in
the cause of his friend, rather than his own.
I was content with the punishment that had been thus bestowed upon
Waw-bebe-nais-sa, as I thought two broken ribs about equal to the broken
head he had given me. We feasted together on game I had killed, so rapid
had been my recovery, and then returned to the deserted camp where we
found the lodges all standing as we had left them. After about ten
days more, the people began to come back to look after their property.
Oto-pun-ne-be took my canoe and returned to Red River, where he lived.
All our people returned, and removed their lodges and their property to
Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung. I had now a great store of meat, sufficient as I
knew, to supply the wants of my family for a year or more. After making
the best disposition I could of all my affairs, I took a small canoe, and
started by myself with the intention of coming to Mackinac, intending to
go thence to the states, and endeavour to find some of my relatives, if
any remained.
At Rainy Lake, I fell in with Mr. Giasson and others in the employ of
the Hudson’s Bay Company, who told me it would not be safe for me to
suffer myself to be seen by any of the North West Company’s people,
as they were all much enraged against me on account of the course I
had taken. Nevertheless, I knew well that the Hudson’s Bay people,
having no occasion to go to the lower end of Lake Superior, could not
conveniently aid me themselves, and that if I attempted to go alone, I
must unavoidably fall in with some of the North West. I went, therefore,
directly to the trading-house at Rainy Lake, where I found my old
trader, Mr. Tace. He was standing on the bank when I came up with my
little canoe. He told me to come into the house, and I followed him in
accordingly. He then asked me, rather sternly, what I had come to him
for. “Why do you not go,” said he, “to your own people of the Hudson’s
Bay Company?” I told him I was now wishing to go to the states. “It
would have been well,” he replied, “had you gone long ago.” I waited
there twenty days, receiving all the time the kindest treatment from Mr.
Tace. He then brought me in his own canoe to Fort William, whence Dr.
M’Laughlin sent me in one of his boats to the Saut De St. Marie, and
thence Mr. Ermatinger brought me to Mackinac. All the people of the
North West Company, whom I saw on this journey, treated me kindly, and no
one mentioned a word of my connection with the Hudson’s Bay.
Major Puthuff, the United States Indian Agent at Mackinac gave me a birch
bark canoe, some provisions, and a letter to Gov. Cass at Detroit. My
canoe was lashed to the side of the schooner, on board which I sailed for
Detroit under the care of a gentleman whose name I do not recollect, but
who, as I thought, was sent by Major Puthuff expressly to take care of me
on the way. In five days we arrived, and the gentleman telling me to wait
until he could go on shore and return, he left me, and I heard no more of
him. Next day I went on shore by myself, and walking up into the street
I stood for some time gazing around me. At length, I saw an Indian, and
going up to him, asked who he was, and where he belonged. He answered me,
“An Ottawwaw, of Saw-ge-nong.” “Do you know Gish-kaw-ko?” said I. “He is
my father.” “And where,” said I, “is Manito-o-geezhik, his father, and
your grand-father?” “He died last fall.” I told him to go and call his
father to come and see me. He called him, but the old man would not come.
Next day, as I was again standing in the street, and looking one way
and the other, I saw an old Indian, and ran after him. When he heard me
coming, he turned about, and after looking anxiously at me for a few
moments, caught me in his arms. It was Gish-kaw-ko, but he looked very
unlike the young man who had taken me prisoner so many years before. He
asked me, in a hurried manner, many questions, inquired what had happened
to me, and where I had been since I left him, and many such questions.
I tried to induce him to take me to the house of Gov. Cass, but he
appeared afraid to go. Finding I could not prevail upon him, I took Major
Puthuff’s letter in my hand, and having learned from the Indians in
which house the governor lived, I went toward the gate, till a soldier,
who was walking up and down before it, stopped me. I could not speak
English so as to be at all understood, but seeing the governor sitting
in his porch, I held up the letter towards him. He then told the soldier
to let me pass in. As soon as he had opened the letter, he gave me his
hand, and having sent for an interpreter, he talked a long time with
me. Gish-kaw-ko having been sent for, confirmed my statement respecting
the circumstances of my capture, and my two years residence with the
Ottawwaws of Saw-ge-nong.
The governor gave me clothing to the amount of sixty or seventy dollars
value, and sent me to remain, for the present, at the house of his
interpreter more than a mile distant, where he told me I must wait till
he should assemble many Indians and white men, to hold a council at St.
Mary’s on the Miami, whence he would send me to my relatives on the Ohio.
I waited two months or more, and becoming extremely impatient to go on
my way, I started with Be-nais-sa, the brother of Gish-kaw-ko, and eight
other men who were going to the council. I went without the knowledge
of Gov. Cass, and was therefore destitute of any supply of provisions.
We suffered much from fatigue, and still more from hunger, particularly
after we passed the rapids of the Miami where we left our canoe. The
Indians among whom we passed oftentimes refused to give us any thing,
though they had plenty. Sometimes we stopped to sleep near a white man’s
corn field, and though the corn was now fit to roast, and we almost
perishing with hunger, we dared not take any thing. One night, we stopped
near a good looking house, where was a large and fine corn field. The
Indians, being very hungry, said to me, “Shaw-shaw-was ne-ba-se, you have
come very far to see your relations, now go in and see whether they will
give you any thing to eat.” I went and stood in the door, but the people
within, who were then eating, drove me away, and on my return the Indians
laughed at me.
Some time after this, as we were sleeping one night in the road, some
one came up on horseback, and asked us, in the Ottawwaw dialect, who we
were. One of the Indians answered, “We are Ottawwaws and Ojibbeways, and
have with us one Long Knife from Red River, who was taken prisoner many
years ago by Gish-kaw-ko.” He told us, after he understood who we were,
and where we were going, that his name was Ah-koo-nah-goo-zik. “If you
are brisk travellers,” said he, “you may reach my house next day after
to-morrow at noon, and then you will find plenty to eat. It is necessary
that I should travel on all night, that I may reach home to-morrow.” And
thus he left us. Next day, my strength failed so much that I was only
able to keep up by being released from my load. One took my gun, another
my blanket, and we reached that night the forks of the Miami, where was a
settlement of Indians and a trading-house, as well as several families of
whites. I applied to the trader, and stated my situation, and that of the
Indians with me, but we could obtain no relief, and on the next day I was
totally unable to travel. We were indebted to the Indians for what relief
we obtained, which was sufficient to enable us the day after to reach the
hospitable dwelling of Ah-ko-nah-goo-zik.
This man had two large kettles of corn and venison ready cooked, and
awaiting our arrival. One he placed before me, with some wooden dishes,
and spoons; the other before Be-nais-sa. After we had eaten, he told us
we had better remain with him ten or fifteen days, and refresh ourselves
from our long journey, as he had plenty of corn, and fat venison was
abundant about him. I told him that for my own part I had for many years
been wishing to make the journey I had now so nearly accomplished, and
that I was extremely impatient to see whether or not any of my own
relatives were still alive, but that I should be glad to rest with him
two or three days, and afterwards to borrow one of his horses to ride as
far as Kau-wis-se-no-ki-ug, or St. Mary’s. “I will tell you,” said he.
After two or three days, as we were early one morning making up our loads
to start, he came to me, leading a fine horse and putting the halter in
my hand, he said, “I give you this for your journey.” I did not again
tell him I would leave it at Kau-wis-se-no-ki-ug, as I had already told
him this, and I knew that in such cases the Indians do not wish to hear
much said. In two days I arrived at the place appointed for the council.
As yet no Indians had assembled, but a man was stationed there to issue
provisions to such as should come. I had been but a short time at this
place when I was seized with fever and ague, which, though it did not
confine me all the time, was yet extremely painful and distressing.
After about ten days, a young man of the Ottawwaws, whom Be-nais-sa had
given me to cook for me and assist about me in my sickness, went across
the creek to a camp of the Po-ta-wa-to-mies who had recently arrived and
were drinking. At midnight he was brought into the lodge drunk, and one
of the men who came with him, said to me, as he pushed him in, “Take care
of your young man. He has been doing mischief.” I immediately called
Be-nais-sa to kindle a fire, when we saw, by the light of it, the young
man standing with his knife in his hand, and that, together with his arm
and great part of his body covered with blood. The Indians could not make
him lie down, but when I told him to, he obeyed immediately and I forbade
them to make any inquiries about what he had done, or take any notice of
his bloody knife. In the morning, having slept soundly, he was perfectly
unconscious of all that had passed. He said he believed that he had
been very drunk, and as he was now hungry, he must hurry and get ready
something to eat. He was astonished and confounded when I told him he had
killed a man. He remembered only that in his drunkenness he had began
to cry for his father, who had been killed on that spot several years
before by white men. He expressed much concern, and went immediately to
see the man he had stabbed, who was not yet dead. We learned from the
Po-ta-wa-to-mies that he had found the young man sleeping, or lying in a
state of insensibility from intoxication, and had stabbed him without any
words having been exchanged, and apparently without knowing who he was.
The relations of the wounded man said nothing to him, but the interpreter
of Gov. Cass reproved him very sharply.
It was evident to all that the young man he had wounded could not
recover; indeed, he was now manifestly near his end. When our companion
returned, we had made up a considerable present, one giving a blanket,
one a piece of strouding, some one thing, and some another. With these he
immediately returned, and placing them on the ground beside the wounded
man, he said to the relatives who were standing about, “My friends, I
have, as you see, killed this, your brother; but I knew not what I did. I
had no ill will against him, and when, a few days since, he came to our
camp, I was glad to see him. But drunkenness made me a fool, and my life
is justly forfeited to you. I am poor, and among strangers, but some of
those who came from my own country with me, would gladly bring me back
to my parents. They have, therefore, sent me with this small present.
My life is in your hands, and my present is before you, take which ever
you choose. My friends will have no cause to complain.” He then sat down
beside the wounded man, and stooping his head, hid his eyes with his
hands, and waited for them to strike. But the mother of the man he had
wounded, an old woman, came a little forward and said, “For myself and my
children, I can answer, that we wish not to take your life; but I cannot
promise to protect you from the resentment of my husband, who is now
absent; nevertheless, I will accept your present, and whatever influence
I may have with him, I shall not fail to use it in your behalf. I know
that it was not from design, or on account of any previous hatred that
you have done this, and why should your mother be made to cry as well as
myself?” She took the presents, and the whole affair being reported to
Gov. Cass, he was satisfied with the course that had been taken.
On the following day the wounded man died, and some of our party assisted
the young man who had killed him in making his grave. When this was
completed, the governor gave the dead man a valuable present of blankets,
cloth, etc. to be buried with him, according to the Indian custom, and
these were brought and heaped up on the brink of the grave. But the
old woman, instead of having them buried, proposed to the young men to
play for them. As the articles were somewhat numerous, various games
were used, as shooting at the mark, leaping, wrestling, etc. but the
handsomest piece of cloth was reserved as the prize for the swiftest in
the foot race, and was won by the young man himself who had killed the
other. The old woman immediately afterwards called him to her, and said,
“Young man, he who was my son, was very dear to me, and I fear I shall
cry much and often for him. I would be glad if you would consent to be my
son in his stead, to love me and take care of me as he did, only I fear
my husband.” The young man, who was grateful to her for the anxiety she
showed to save his life, immediately consented to this arrangement, and
entered heartily upon it. But the governor had heard that some of the
friends of the deceased were still determined to avenge his death, and
he sent his interpreter to the young man, to direct him, without loss of
time, to make his escape, and fly to his own country. He was unwilling
to go, but as Be-nais-sa and myself concurred with the governor in his
advice, and assisted him in his preparations, he went off in the night;
but instead of going immediately home, as he had been directed to do, he
lay concealed in the woods only a few hundred yards from our lodge.
Very early next morning, I saw two of the friends of the young man that
was killed coming towards our lodge. At first I was somewhat alarmed, as
I supposed they came with the intention of doing violence; but I soon
perceived they were without arms. They came in, and sat a long time
silent. At last one of them said, “Where is our brother? We are sometimes
lonely at home, and we wish to talk with him.” I told them he had but
lately gone out, and would soon return. As they remained a long time, and
insisted on seeing him, I went out, with the pretence of seeking for him,
but without the remotest expectation that he would be found. He, however,
had observed from his hiding place the visit of the two young men to our
lodge, and not believing it to have been made with any unfriendly design,
discovered himself to me and we returned together. They shook hands
with him, and treated him with great kindness, and we soon afterwards
ascertained that all the reports of their wishing to kill him were false.