CHAPTER XV.

Transactions of the agents and clerks of the American Fur

Company, in the country about the Lake of the Woods—treachery

of an Indian woman—misfortunes attendant on an attempt to bring

my children from the Indian country.

Being now destitute of employment, I engaged to Mr. Stewart, the agent of

the American Fur Company, to go with the traders into the Indian country.

This I preferred to remaining with the Indian agent, though he again

proposed to hire me for a striker in his smith’s shop. For my services

with the people of the American Fur Company, I was to receive two hundred

and twenty-five dollars per year and a suit of clothes.

My children I placed at school at Mackinac, and went to the Saut De St.

Marie with Mr. Morrison, one of the company’s principal clerks. Thence

they sent me, in a boat with some Frenchmen, to Fond Du Lac. I was

unacquainted with the manners of these people, and should have suffered,

and perhaps perished for want of provisions, had I not purchased some

occasionally from the crew. From Fond du Lac I went to Rainy Lake with

Mr. Cote, but my ignorance of the business in which I had embarked

exposed me to much inconvenience. I had still some of my traps with me,

with which I took a considerable number of musk rats on this journey,

and I was not less surprised than displeased, to be told that the skins

did not belong to me. But I was not only compelled to give these up;

I was made to paddle by myself a canoe heavily loaded with wild rice,

and to submit to various other laborious employments which I did very

reluctantly.

When we arrived at Rainy Lake, I went to hunt, but killed nothing. Soon

afterwards, they sent me to the rapids of Rainy Lake River, and before

the ice had formed so as to put an end to the fishing, I had taken one

hundred and fifty sturgeons. The winter had now commenced, and Mr. Cote

sent me with one clerk, four Frenchmen, and a small outfit of goods,

equal to one hundred and sixty dollars in value, to trade among the

Indians. We were furnished with no other food than wild rice at the

rate of eighteen quarts per man, and instructed not to return until we

should have exchanged for peltries all our goods. As I knew we should be

compelled to travel far before we found the Indians, I requested of Mr.

Cote permission to remain while I could prepare a train and harness for

two good dogs which belonged to me; also snow shoes for ourselves; but he

would not hear of a moment’s delay.

Four days after we started, a heavy snow fell, and our wild rice being

all expended, the clerk and three of the Frenchmen left me and returned

to the Fort. There was now only myself and one Frenchman named Veiage,

who however was a hardy, patient, and most excellent man, and we

struggled through the snow with our heavy loads as we might.

After some days, and when we were extremely reduced through want of

provisions, we found some lodges of Indians, but they also were in a

starving condition. With these I left Veiage, and with a few goods,

went to visit another encampment at some distance; these also I found

perishing of hunger. On my return to the place where I had left my

companion, the lodges were removed and no person remained. Here my

strength failed entirely, and I sat down expecting to perish, as the

night was very cold; but an Indian who had come back to look at his

traps, found me, made a fire, and after he had raised me up, assisted me

to his lodge. He had taken one beaver, and this was now to be divided

among twenty persons, not one of whom had eaten a mouthful in two days,

and all were in a starving condition.

Soon after this, as I continued on my journey according to my strength, I

found the lodge of my friend Oto-pun-ne-be, the man who had taken my part

in the affair with Waw-bebe-nais-sa. His wife began to cry when she saw

the extreme misery of my condition, so much was I reduced and changed

in appearance by hunger and fatigue. About this time eight starving

Frenchmen came upon us, who had been sent by Mr. Cote, he supposing that

I had found buffalo, and must by this time have meat in great abundance.

One of my dogs died, and we ate him. We were travelling on the old trail

of the Indians, but a deep snow had fallen since they passed. Under this

snow we found several dead dogs, and other things thrown away or left by

the Indians, such as bones, worn out moccasins, and pieces of leather.

With these we were able to sustain life. We killed also, and ate my last

dog; but we had yet a long distance to travel before we could reach the

buffalo, and as we were all rapidly failing, we consulted together, and

determined to kill one of the Fur Company’s dogs. We did so, and this

enabled us to reach the buffalo, when our distress was for the present at

an end.

After I had killed many buffaloes, and meat had for some time been plenty

in our camp, the Frenchmen became lazy and insolent, and refused to go

for meat, to carry packs, or render me any assistance whatever. When we

were ready to return to the trading house, every one of these men refused

to take any load but his own blanket and provisions, except Veiage, and

with him I divided our peltries, which in all weighed six hundred pounds.

We were of course a considerable time in carrying these heavy loads to

the Fort.

When I arrived, I accounted for my whole outfit; having the peltries

I had purchased in exchange for every article, except some powder and

shot which we had ourselves expended in hunting. The price of this

was deducted from my pay in my final settlement with the agent of the

American Fur Company. Then ten dollars as the price of the dog we had

killed in the extremity of our hunger, and which had been the means

of saving, not my life only, but that of the nine Frenchmen that were

with me. But Mr. Cote did not consider my return[37] a good one, and

complained of me for having refused to take whiskey with my outfit. I

told him that if I had taken whiskey, I could certainly have obtained a

much greater quantity of peltries, but I was averse to trading with the

Indians when intoxicated, and did not wish to be one, on any occasion, to

introduce whiskey among them. But as he had determined on sending me out

again, and insisted I should take whiskey, I told him I would for once

conform entirely to his instructions, which were “to use every method to

procure the greatest possible quantity of skins at the lowest price.”

This time I went to the country about the Lake of the Woods, and with an

outfit valued at two hundred dollars, I purchased by means of whiskey,

more than double the amount of peltries I had before brought in. Now Mr.

Cote expressed the highest satisfaction at my success, but I told him

if he wished to have his goods sold in that way, he must employ some

other person, as I could not consent to be the instrument of such fraud

and injustice. I had been so long among the Indians that many of them

were personally my friends, and having seen the extent of the mischiefs

occasioned by the introduction of intoxicating liquors, I had become

desirous of preventing it, as far as in my power, at least. I was not

willing to be myself active in spreading such poison among them, nor was

I willing to use the advantage their unconquerable appetite for spirits

might give me in bargaining with them, as I knew that though they might

easily be defrauded, any fraud thus practised must be known to them, and

they would feel resentment and dislike in proportion as they were made

to suffer; more particularly against me, whom they looked upon as one of

their own number.

I remained fifteen months in the American Fur Company’s employ, during

all which time I slept only thirteen nights in the house, so active

and laborious were my occupations. It had been an item in my agreement

with Mr. Stewart that I should be allowed to go to Red River to see my

children, and make an attempt to bring them out with me. Accordingly,

when the traders were about to make their yearly visit to Mackinac, I

was allowed to go by myself; but having been disappointed of moccasins

and other articles that had been promised me by Mr. Cote, I suffered

much inconvenience, travelling as I did by myself in a small canoe. My

children were three in number, two daughters and one son, and had been a

long time separated from me even before I first left the Indian country.

Mr. Clark, of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who was now stationed at Red

River, and to whom I had a letter, refused to give me any assistance in

recovering my children. In the morning, when I arrived there, I had left

my blanket in his house, expecting at least that I should sleep there;

but when at the approach of night I was about to go in, he sent the

blanket out to me. From the manner in which this was done, I knew if I

went in again, it would only be to be driven out, and I went immediately

to select a place to sleep in the woods at a little distance. But Mr.

Bruce, the interpreter whom I have before mentioned saw me, and calling

me into his lodge, invited me to remain, and while I did so, treated

me in the most friendly and hospitable manner. Knowing that I had no

reason to expect any assistance from Mr. Clark, who was soon to leave the

country, I went to Captain Bulger, the military commandant, to state my

business, and received from him a most attentive and friendly hearing.

Immediately on my calling to see him, he asked me where I had slept, as

he knew that I had arrived the day before. When he heard that I had been

refused a lodging in the trading house, he invited me to come and eat

with him, and sleep in his house as long as I should remain there. He

knew of my business to the country, and asked me if I could tell where my

children were. I had ascertained that they were with the Indians about

the Prairie Portage.

Some Indians about the Fort told me that those of the band with whom my

children were had heard of my arrival, and were determined to kill me if

I should attempt to take my children from them. Nevertheless, I visited

that band as soon as I could make the journey, and went into the lodge

of the principal chief, who treated me kindly. I remained some time,

always staying in the lodge with my children who appeared pleased to see

me; but I easily discovered that it was by no means the intention of the

Indians to suffer me to take them away. Giah-ge-wa-go-mo, the man who

had long before stolen away my son, and whom I had been compelled to

beat as well as to kill his horse, now treated me with some insolence,

and threatened even to take my life. I said to him, “If you had been a

man, you would have killed me long ago, instead of now threatening me.

I have no fear of you.” But being entirely alone, I could accomplish no

more at present than to induce the band to remove, and encamp near the

fort at Red River. This was a considerable journey, and on all of it, my

children and myself were made to carry heavy burthens, and were treated

like slaves. They did not indeed give me a load to carry, but they were

careful so far to overload my children, that when I had taken as much as

I could move under, there were heavy loads left for them. After they had

encamped near the fort, I asked them for my children, but they utterly

refused to give them up. Giah-ge-wa-go-mo was the principal man who was

active in resisting me, and with him the dispute had grown to so open a

quarrel, that I was about to proceed to violent measures, but I bethought

me that I should do wrong to attempt to shed blood without first making

my intention known to Captain Bulger, who had expressed so much friendly

feeling towards me. I went accordingly and told him my situation, and

that I was now convinced I could not take my children without using

violent measures with Giah-ge-wa-go-mo. He approved of my having told

him what I was about to do, and immediately sent Mr. Bruce to call my

children into the fort. They came accordingly, and stood before his

house, but with ten or twelve Indians accompanying them, and who were

careful to stand near by on each side of them. Having pointed out my

children to him, the captain directed his servant to feed them. Something

was accordingly brought from his own table, he having just then eaten,

and given to them; but the Indians immediately snatched it away, leaving

them not a mouthful. A loaf of bread was then brought, but it went in the

same way, not a particle of it being left to them. Captain Bulger now

directed a store house to be opened, and told me to go in and get them

something to eat. Finding there some bags of pemmican, I took the half

of one, about twenty pounds, and making them sit down, all partook of it.

The Indians refused the children to the demand of Capt. Bulger, as they

had done to me; but next day he called all the principal men, and among

others Giah-ge-wa-go-mo, to come and council with him. The chief man of

the band was very willing that I should take away the children, and when

we all went into the council room, he took a seat with Captain Bulger

and myself, thereby placing the four men who were principally active

in detaining them in the situation of persons who were acting in open

contravention to his wishes.

Presents to the amount of about one hundred dollars in value were brought

in, and placed on the floor between the two parties. Captain Bulger then

said to the Indians:

“My children, I have caused to be placed before you here, a pipe full of

tobacco, not because I am willing to have you suppose I would purchase

from you a right for this man to come and take what is his own, but to

signify to you that I still hold you by the hand, as long as you are

ready to listen attentively to my words. As for this man, he comes to you

not in his own name only, and speaking his own words; but he speaks the

words of your great father who is beyond the waters, and of the Great

Spirit in whose hand we all are, and who gave these children to be his.

You must, therefore, without venturing to give him any farther trouble,

deliver to him his children, and take these presents as a memorial of the

good will that subsists between us.”

The Indians began to deliberate, and were about to make a reply when

they saw a considerable armed force brought and paraded before the door

of the council house, and finding themselves completely surrounded, they

accepted the presents, and promised to surrender the children.

The mother of these children was now an old woman, and as she said she

wished to accompany them, I readily consented. The boy, who was of age

to act for himself, preferred to remain among the Indians, and as the

time for giving him an education, and fitting him to live in any other

manner than as the Indians do, had passed, I consented he should act as

he thought best. Several Indians accompanied us four days’ journey on our

return, then all went back, except my two daughters and their mother.

I did not return to the Lake of the Woods by the way of the

Be-gwi-o-nus-ko Se-be, but chose another route in which I had to travel

a part of the way by water, a part by land. In ascending the Bad River,

there is a short road by what is called Sturgeon River, and a portage

to come again into the principal river. Not far from the mouth of

Sturgeon River was, at this time, an encampment or village of six or

seven lodges. A young man belonging to that band, and whose name was

Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons, had not long previous to this been whipped by Mr.

Cote for some real or alleged misconduct about the trading-house, and

feeling dissatisfied, he, when he heard I had passed up Sturgeon River,

started after me in his little canoe, and soon overtook me. After he had

joined me, he showed, I thought an unusual disposition to talk to me, and

claimed to be, in some manner, related to me. He encamped with us that

night, and the next morning we started on together. This day, when we

stopped and were resting on shore, I noticed that he took an opportunity

to meet one of my daughters in the bushes, but she returned immediately,

somewhat agitated. Her mother, also, was several times, in the course of

the day, in close conversation with her; but the young woman continued

sad, and was several times crying.

At night, after we stopped to encamp, the young man very soon left us;

but as he remained at a little distance, apparently much busied about

something, I went and found him with his medicines all opened about

him, and he was inserting a thong of deer’s sinew, about five inches in

length, into a bullet. I said to him, “My brother,” (for this was the

name he had himself given me,) “if you want powder, or balls, or flints,

I have plenty, and will give you as much as you wish.” He said that he

also had plenty, and I left him and returned to camp. It was some time

before he came in. When at last he made his appearance, he was dressed

and ornamented as a warrior for battle. He continued, during the first

part of the night, to watch me much too closely, and my suspicions,

which had been already excited, were now more and more confirmed. But

he continued to be as talkative, and to seem as friendly as ever. He

asked me for my knife, as he said, to cut some tobacco, and instead of

returning it to me, slipped it into his own belt; but I thought, perhaps

he would return it to me in the morning.

I laid myself down at about the usual time, as I would not appear to

suspect his intentions. I had not put up my tent, having only the little

shelter afforded by a piece of painted cloth that had been given me at

Red River. When I lay down, I chose such a position as would enable me

to watch the young man’s motions. I could see, as he sat opposite the

fire, that his eyes were open and watchful, and that he felt not the

least inclination to sleep. When at length a thunder shower commenced,

he appeared more anxious and restless than before. When the rain began

to fall, I asked him to come and place himself near me, so as to enjoy

the benefit of my shelter, and he did so. The shower was very heavy,

and entirely extinguished our fire; but soon after it had ceased, the

mosquitoes becoming very troublesome, Ome-zhut-gwut-oons rekindled it,

and breaking off a branch of a bush, he sat and drove them away from me.

I was conscious that I ought not to sleep, but drowsiness was gaining

some hold on me when another thunder shower, more violent than the first,

arose. In the interval of the showers, I lay as one sleeping, but almost

without moving or opening my eyes. I watched the motions of the young

man. At one time, when an unusually loud clap of thunder alarmed him, he

would throw a little tobacco into the fire, as an offering; at another,

when he seemed to suppose me asleep, I saw him watching me like a cat

about to spring on its prey; but I did not suffer myself to sleep.

He breakfasted with us as usual, then started by himself before I

was quite ready. My daughter, whom he had met in the bushes, was now

apparently more alarmed than before, and absolutely refused to enter

the canoe; but her mother was very anxious to quiet her agitation, and

apparently very desirous to prevent my paying any particular attention

to her. At last she was induced to get into the canoe, and we went

on. The young man kept along before us and at a little distance, until

about ten o’clock, when, at turning a point in a difficult and rapid

part of the river, and gaining a view of a considerable reach above, I

was surprised that I could see neither him nor his canoe. At this place

the river is about eighty yards wide, and there is, about ten yards from

the point before mentioned, a small island of naked rock. I had taken

off my coat, and I was with great effort pushing up my canoe against the

powerful current which compelled me to keep very near the shore, when

the discharge of a gun at my side arrested my progress. I heard a bullet

whistle past my head, and felt my side touched, at the same instant

that the paddle fell from my right hand, and the hand itself dropped

powerless to my side. The bushes were obscured by the smoke of the gun,

but at a second look I saw Ome-zhut-gwut-oons escaping. At that time the

screams of my children drew my attention to the canoe, and I found every

part of it was becoming covered with blood. I endeavoured, with my left

hand, to push the canoe in shore that I might pursue after him; but the

current being too powerful for me, took my canoe on the other side, and

threw it against the small rocky island before mentioned. I now got out,

pulled the canoe a little on to the rock with my left hand, and then

made an attempt to load my gun. Before I could finish loading I fainted,

and fell on the rock. When I came to myself again, I was alone on the

island, and the canoe, with my daughters, was just going out of sight in

the river below. Soon after it disappeared I fainted a second time, but

consciousness at length returned.

As I believed that the man who had shot me was still watching from his

concealment, I examined my wounds, and finding my situation desperate,

my right arm being much shattered and the ball having entered my body

in the direction to reach my lungs and not having passed out, I called

to him, requesting him to come, and by putting an immediate end to my

life, to release me from the protracted suffering I had in prospect. “You

have killed me,” said I; “but though the hurt you have given me must be

mortal, I fear it may be some time before I shall die. Come, therefore,

if you are a man, and shoot me again.” Many times I called to him, but

he returned me no answer. My body was now almost naked, as I had on, when

shot, beside my pantaloons, only a very old and ragged shirt, and much of

this had been torn off in the course of the morning. I lay exposed to the

sun, and the black and green headed flies, on a naked rock, the greater

part of a day in July or August, and saw no prospect before me but that

of a lingering death; but as the sun went down, my hope and strength

began to revive, and plunging into the river, I swam across to the other

side. When I reached the shore, I could stand on my feet, and I raised

the sas-sah-kwi, or war whoop, as a cry of exultation and defiance to my

enemy. But the additional loss of blood occasioned by the exertion in

swimming the river caused me another fainting fit, after which, when I

recovered, I concealed myself near the bank, to watch for him. Presently

I saw Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons come from his hiding place, put his canoe into

the water, embark, and begin to descend the river. He came very near my

hiding place, and I felt tempted to make a spring, and endeavour to seize

and strangle him in the water; but fearing that my strength might not be

sufficient, I let him pass without discovering myself.

I was now tormented with the most excessive thirst, and as the bank was

steep and rocky, I could not, with my wounded arm, lie down to drink.

I was therefore compelled to go into the water, and let my body down

into it, until I brought my mouth to a level with the surface, and

thus I was able to drink. By this time, the evening growing somewhat

cooler, my strength was, in part, restored; but the blood seemed to

flow more freely. I now applied myself to dressing the wound in my arm.

I endeavoured, though the flesh was already much swollen, to replace

the fragments of the bone; to accomplish which, I tore in strips the

remainder of my shirt, and with my teeth and my left hand I contrived

to tie these around my arm, at first loosely, but by degrees tighter

and tighter, until I thought it had assumed, as nearly as I could give

it, the proper form. I then tied on small sticks, which I broke from

the branches of trees, to serve as splints, and then suspended my hand

in a string, which passed around my neck. After this was completed, I

took some of the bark of a choke cherry bush, which I observed there,

and chewing it fine applied it to the wounds, hoping thus to check the

flowing of the blood. The bushes about me, and for all the distance

between me and the river, were covered with blood. As night came on, I

chose a place where was plenty of moss to lie down on, with the trunk of

a fallen tree for my pillow. I was careful to select a place near the

river that I might have a chance of seeing any thing that might pass;

also to be near the water in case my thirst should again become urgent.

I knew that one trader’s canoe was expected about this time to pass this

place on the way towards Red River, and it was this canoe from which I

expected relief and assistance. There were no Indians nearer than the

village from which Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons had followed me, and he, with

my wife and daughters, were the only persons that I had any reason to

suppose were within many miles of me.

I laid myself down and prayed to the Great Spirit, that he would see and

pity my condition, and send help to me now in the time of my distress. As

I continued praying, the mosquitoes, which had settled on my naked body

in vast numbers, and were, by their stings, adding greatly to the torment

I suffered, began to rise, and after hovering at a little distance above

and around me, disappeared entirely. I did not attribute this, which was

so great a relief, to the immediate interposition of a Superior Power in

answer to my prayer, as the evening was at that time becoming something

cool, and I knew it was entirely the effect of change of temperature.

Nevertheless, I was conscious, as I have ever been in times of distress

and of danger, that the Master of my life, though invisible, was yet

near, and was looking upon me. I slept easily and quietly, but not

without interruption. Every time I awoke, I remembered to have seen, in

my dream, a canoe with white men in the river before me.

It was late in the night, probably after midnight, when I heard female

voices, which I supposed to be those of my daughters, not more than two

hundred yards from me, but partly across the river. I believed that

Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons had discovered their hiding place, and was, perhaps,

offering them some violence, as the cry was that of distress; but so

great was my weakness, that the attempt to afford them any relief seemed

wholly beyond my power. I learned afterwards that my children, as soon as

I fainted and fell on the rock, supposing me dead, had been influenced

by their mother to turn the canoe down the river, and exert themselves

to make their escape. They had not proceeded far, when the woman steered

the canoe into a low point of bushes, and threw out my coat, and some

other articles. They then ran on a considerable distance, and concealed

themselves; but here it occurred to the woman that she might have done

better to have kept the property belonging to me, and accordingly

returned to get it. It was when they came to see these things lying on

the shore, that the children burst out crying, and it was at this time

that I heard them.

Before ten o’clock next morning, I heard human voices on the river above

me, and from the situation I had chosen, I could see a canoe coming like

that I had seen in my dream, loaded with white men. They landed at a

little distance above me, and began to make preparations for breakfast.

I knew that this was the canoe belonging to Mr. Stewart of the Hudson’s

Bay Company, who, together with Mr. Grant, was expected about this time,

and being conscious that my appearance would make a painful impression

upon them, I determined to wait until they had breakfasted before I

showed myself to them. After they had eaten, and put their canoe again

in the water, I waded out a little distance into the river to attract

their attention. As soon as they saw me, the Frenchmen ceased paddling,

and they all gazed at me as if in doubt and amazement. As the current of

the river was carrying them rapidly past me, and my repeated calls, in

the Indian language, seemed to produce no effect, I called Mr. Stewart by

name, and spoke a few words of English which I could command, requesting

then to come and take me. In a moment their paddles were in the water,

and they brought the canoe so near where I stood that I was able to get

into it.

No one in the canoe recognised me, though Mr. Stewart and Mr. Grant were

both well known to me. I had not been able to wash the blood off my body,

and it is probable that the suffering I had undergone had much changed

my appearance. They were very eager and rapid in their inquiries, and

soon ascertained who I was, and also became acquainted with the principal

facts I have related. They made a bed for me in the canoe, and at my

urgent request went to search for my children in the direction where I

had heard them crying, and where I told them I feared we should find they

had been murdered; but we sought here, and in other places, to no purpose.

Having ascertained who it was that had wounded me, these two traders

agreed to take me immediately to the village of Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons,

and they were determined, in case of discovering and taking him, to

aid me in taking my revenge by putting him immediately to death. They

therefore concealed me in the canoe, and on landing near the lodges,

an old man came down to the shore, and asked them, “what was the news

in the country they came from?” “All is well there,” answered Mr.

Stewart; “we have no other news.” “This is the manner,” said the old

man, “in which white people always treat us. I know very well something

has happened in the country you have come from, but you will not tell

us of it. Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons, one of our young men, has been up the

river two or three days, and he tells us that the Long Knife, called

Shaw-shaw-wa-ne-ba-se, (the falcon,) who passed here a few days since,

with his wife and children, has murdered them all; but I am fearful

that he himself has been doing something wrong, for he is watchful and

restless, and has just fled from this place before you arrived.” Mr.

Stewart and Mr. Grant, notwithstanding this representation, sought for

him in all the lodges, and when convinced that he had indeed gone, said

to the old man, “It is very true that mischief has been done in the

country we come from; but the man whom Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons attempted to

kill is in our canoe with us; we do not yet know whether he will live or

die.” They then showed me to the Indians who had gathered on the shore.

We now took a little time to refresh ourselves and examine my wounds.

Finding that the ball had entered my body, immediately under the broken

part of my arm, and gone forward and lodged against the breast bone, I

tried to persuade Mr. Grant to cut it out; but neither he nor Mr. Stewart

being willing to make the attempt, I was compelled to do it myself, as

well as I could with my left hand. A lancet which Mr. Grant lent me

was broken immediately, as was a pen knife, the flesh of that part of

the body being very hard and tough. They next brought me a large white

handled razor, and with this I succeeded in extracting the ball. It

was very much flattened, and the thong of deer’s sinew, as well as the

medicines Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons had inserted in it, were left in my body.

Notwithstanding this, when I found that it had not passed under my ribs,

I began to hope that I should finally recover, though I had reason to

suppose that the wound being poisoned, it would be long in healing.

After this was done, and the wound in my breast taken care of, we went on

to Ah-kee-ko-bow-we-tig, (the Kettle Fall,) to the village of the chief

Waw-wish-e-gah-bo, the brother of Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons. Here Mr. Stewart

used the same precaution of hiding me in the canoe, and then giving

tobacco, which he called every man in the village, by name, to receive;

but when there appeared no prospect of finding him, they made me again

stand up in the canoe, and one of them told the chief that it was his

own brother who had attempted to kill me. The chief hung his head, and

to their inquiries about Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons he would make no answer. We,

however, ascertained from other Indians, that my daughters and their

mother had stopped here a moment in their way towards Rainy Lake.

When we arrived at the North West Company’s house at Rainy Lake, we found

that my daughters and their mother had been detained by the traders on

account of suspicions arising from their manifest agitation and terror,

and from the knowledge that I had passed up with them but a few days

before. Now when I first came in sight of the fort, the old woman fled to

the woods taking the two girls with her. But the Company’s people sent

out and brought them in again. Mr. Stewart and Mr. Grant now left it to

me to say what punishment should be inflicted on this woman, who, as we

all very well knew, had been guilty of aiding in an attempt to kill me.

They said they considered her equally criminal with Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons,

and thought her deserving of death, or any other punishment I might wish

to see inflicted. But I told them I wished she might be sent immediately,

and without any provisions, away from the fort, and never allowed to

return to it. As she was the mother of my children, I did not wish to see

her hung, or beaten to death by the labourers as they proposed; but as

the sight of her had become hateful to me, I wished she might be removed,

and they accordingly dismissed her without any punishment.

Mr. Stewart left me at the Rainy Lake trading house in the care of Simon

M’Gillevray, a son of him who many years ago was so important a partner

in the North West Company. He gave me a small room where my daughters

cooked for me, and dressed my wounds. I was very weak, and my arm badly

swollen, fragments of bone coming out from time to time. I had lain here

twenty-eight days when Major Delafield, the United States commissioner

for the boundary, came to the trading house, and having heard something

of my history, proposed to bring me in his canoe to Mackinac. But I was

too weak to undertake such a journey, though I wished to have accompanied

him. Finding that this was the case, Major Delafield gave me a large

supply of excellent provisions, two pounds of tea, some sugar and other

articles, a tent, and some clothing, and left me.

Two days after this, I pulled out of my arm the thong of deer’s sinew

which had been attached, as I have before stated, to the bullet. It was

still about five inches long, but nearly as large as my finger, and of a

green colour. Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons had two balls in his gun at the time he

shot me; one had passed near my head.

Immediately after the departure of Major Delafield, the unfriendly

disposition of Mr. M’Gillevray made itself manifest; it had been only

fear of Major Delafield that had induced him hitherto to treat me with

some attention. Insults and abuses were heaped upon me, and at last I

was forcibly turned out of the house. But some of the Frenchmen had so

much compassion as to steal out at night, and without Mr. M’Gillevray’s

knowledge, furnish tent poles and set up my tent. Thanks to the bounty of

Major Delafield, I had a supply of every thing needful, and my daughters

still remained with me, though Mr. M’Gillevray repeatedly threatened

that he would remove them. His persecutions did not abate when I left

the fort, and he went so far as to take my daughters from me, and send

them to sleep in the quarters of the men; but they escaped, and fled

to the house of an old Frenchman, near by, who was Mr. M’Gillevray’s

father-in-law, and with whose daughters mine had become intimate.

Forty-three days I had lain in and near this trading house, and was

now in a most miserable condition, having been for some time entirely

deprived of the assistance of my daughters, when my former acquaintance

and friend, Mr. Bruce, unexpectedly entered my tent late in the evening.

He was with Major Long and a party of gentlemen then returning from

Lake Winnipeg, who, as Mr. Bruce thought, would be willing and able to

afford me some assistance in taking my daughters out of the hands of Mr.

M’Gillevray, and perhaps in getting out to Mackinac.

Three times I visited Major Long at his camp at that late hour of the

night, though I was scarce able to walk, and each time he told me that

his canoes were full, and that he could do nothing for me; but at length

becoming a little acquainted with my history, he seemed to take more

interest in me, and when he saw the papers I had from Governor Clark and

others, he told me I was a fool not to have shown him these before. He

had, he said, taken me for one of those worthless white men who remain in

the Indian country from indolence, and for the sake of marrying squaws,

but now that he understood who I was, he would try to do something for

me. He went himself, with several men, and sought in the trading house

for my daughters. He had intended to start early the next morning after

his arrival, but having been stirring nearly all night in my affairs,

he determined to remain over the next day, and make farther exertions

for the recovery of my children. All the search we could make for my

daughters at and about the trading house resulted in the conviction,

that through the agency of Mr. M’Gillevray, and the family of his

father-in-law, they had fallen into the hands of Kaw-been-tush-kwaw-naw,

a chief of our village at Me-nau-zhe-tau-naung. This being the case, I

was compelled to relinquish the hope of bringing them out the present

year, and miserably as I was situated, I was anxious to come to my own

people, and to my three children at Mackinac, to spend the winter.

I knew the character of Mr. M’Gillevray, and also that the traders of

the North West Company generally had less cause to feel friendly towards

me than they might have had if I had not concerned myself with Lord

Selkirk’s party in the capture of their post at Red River. I knew also

that my peculiar situation with respect to the Indians would make it

very difficult for me to gain permission to remain at or near either of

the houses of the North West, or of the American Fur Company. I had been

severely and dangerously wounded by an Indian, and according to their

customs, I was bound, or at least expected, to avenge myself on any of

the same band that might fall in my way; and should it be known that

I was at either of the trading houses, very few Indians would venture

to visit it. Taking these things into consideration, I determined to

accept the friendly offer of Major Long to bring me to the States, and

accordingly took a place in one of his canoes. But after proceeding

on our way an hour or two, I became convinced, as did Major Long and

the gentlemen with him, that I could not safely undertake so long and

difficult a journey in my present situation. Accordingly they put me in

charge of some people belonging to the traders, and sent me back to the

fort.

I knew that the doors of the North West Company’s house would be closed

against me, and accordingly made application to my late employers, the

American Fur Company. Young Mr. Davenport, in whose care the house then

was, granted a ready compliance with my request, and gave me a room;

but as provisions were scarce on that side, I was supplied daily by

Dr. M’Laughlin of the North West, who had now taken the place of Mr.

M’Gillevray. He sent every day as much as sufficed to feed me and Mr.

Davenport, together with his wife.

I had not been long here when Mr. Cote arrived, and took charge of the

house in place of Mr. Davenport. Mr. Cote came to my room, and seeing

me on the bed, only remarked, “Well, you have been making a war by

yourself.” That night he allowed my supper to be brought me, and early

next morning turned me out of doors. But he was not content with driving

me from the house; he forbade me to remain on the United States side of

the boundary, and all my entreaties, together with the interference of

Dr. M’Laughlin, could not influence Mr. Cote to change his determination.

In this emergency, Dr. M’Laughlin, though he knew that the success of his

post in the winter’s trade must be injured by the measure, consented to

receive me on the British side where he fed and took care of me. Early

in the winter, my wounds had so far healed that I could hunt a little,

holding my gun in my left hand. But about new-years, I went out one

evening to bring water, slipped and fell on the ice, and not only broke

my arm in the old place, but also my collar bone. Dr. M’Laughlin now

took the management of my case into his own hands, it having been left

entirely to my own treatment before, and I was now confined as long as I

had been in the fall.

In the spring, I was again able to hunt. I killed considerable numbers

of rabbits, and some other animals, for the skins of which the Doctor

paid me in money a very liberal price. As the time approached for the

traders to leave the wintering grounds, he told me the North West had no

boats going to Mackinac, but that he would oblige Mr. Cote to carry me

out. It was accordingly so arranged, and Mr. Cote promised to take me to

Fond Du Lac in his own canoe. But instead of this, he sent me in a boat

with some Frenchmen. In the route from Fond Du Lac to the Saut De St.

Marie, I was dependent upon Mr. Morrison; but the treatment I received

from the boatmen was so rough that I induced them to put me on shore,

to walk thirty-five miles to the Saut. Mr. Schoolcraft now wished to

engage me as an interpreter, but as I heard that the little property I

had left at Mackinac had been seized to pay my children’s board, and as

I knew their situation required my presence, I went thither accordingly,

and was engaged by Col. Boyd as Indian interpreter, in which situation

I continued till summer of 1828, when being dissatisfied with his

treatment, I left Mackinac, and proceeded to New-York for the purpose

of making arrangements for the publication of my narrative; and upon my

return to the north, was employed by Mr. Schoolcraft, Indian agent at the

Saut De St. Marie, as his interpreter; to which place I took my family,

and have since resided there.

Three of my children are still among the Indians in the north. The two

daughters would, as I am informed, gladly join me, if it were in their

power to escape. The son is older, and is attached to the life he has so

long led as a hunter. I have some hope that I may be able to go and make

another effort to bring away my daughters.

PART TWO

CHAPTER I.

Of feasts—of fasts and dreaming—their idea of the human soul,

and of a future existence—customs of burial—of their knowledge

of astronomy—traditions concerning the sun and moon—of

totems—of their acquaintance with plants, animals, and minerals.

OF INDIAN FEASTS

Among the Indians, the man who gives many feasts, or who, in the

language of their songs, “causes the people to walk about continually,”

is accounted great. In times, therefore, when game is abundant, feasts

are multiplied. Before the whites introduced among them intoxicating

drinks, it is probable the assembling together for feasts, was their

principal and most favourite source of excitement in times of peace, and

comparative inactivity. They have several kinds of feasts:—

1st. METAI-WE-KOON-DE-WIN—Medicine feast, or that feasting which forms

a part of their great religious ceremony, the Metai. This is under the

direction of some old men, who are called chiefs for the Metai,[38]

and the initiated only are admitted. The guests are invited by a

Me-zhin-no-way, or chief’s man of business, who delivers to each of the

guests a small stick. In the south they use small pieces of cane; in the

north, quills are sometimes substituted, which are dyed and kept for the

purpose. No verbal message is delivered with this token. The numerous

preparatory measures, and the various steps in the performance of this

ceremony, need not be here detailed.[39] Dogs are always chosen for the

feast, from a belief, that as they are more sagacious and useful to men,

so they will be more acceptable to their divinities, than any other

animals. They believe that the food they eat, at this and some other of

their feasts, ascends, though in a form invisible to them, to the Great

Spirit. Besides the songs sang on occasion of this feast, and some of

which have been translated for this work, they have numerous exhortations

from the old men. Among much of unintelligible allusion, and ridiculous

boasting, these addresses contain some moral precepts and exhortations,

intermixed with their traditionary notions concerning Na-na-bush, and

other personages of their mythology. Whenever the name of the Great

Spirit is uttered by the speaker, all the audience, who, if they remain

sober, seem wrapped in the deepest attention, respond to it by the

interjection, Kwa-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! the first syllable being uttered in a

quick and loud tone, and each of the additional syllables fainter and

quicker, until it ceases to be heard. They say the speaker touches the

Great Spirit, when he mentions the name, and the effect on the audience

may be compared to a blow on a tense string, which vibrates shorter and

shorter, until it is restored to rest. This peculiar interjection is also

used by the Ottawwaws, when they _blow_ or _shoot_ with their medicine

skins, at the persons to be initiated.

2d. WAIN-JE-TAH WE-KOON-DE-WIN—Feast called for by dreams. Feasts of

this kind may be held at any time, and no particular qualifications are

necessary in the entertainer or his guests. The word _wain-je-tah_ means

common, or true, as they often use it in connection with the names of

plants or animals, as _wain-je-tah o-muk-juk-ke_, means a right or proper

toad, in distinction from a tree frog, or a lizard.

3rd. WEEN-DAH-WAS-SO-WIN—Feast of giving names. These are had principally

on occasion of giving names to children, and the guests are expected

to eat all, be it more or less, that is put into their dish by the

entertainer. The reason they assign for requiring, at this and several

other feasts, all that has been cooked to be eaten, is, apparently, very

insufficient; namely, that they do so in imitation of hawks, and some

other birds of prey, who never return a second time to that they have

killed.

4th. MENIS-SE-NO WE-KOON-DE-WIN—War feast. These feasts are made before

starting, or on the way towards the enemy’s country. Two, four, eight,

or twelve men, may be called, but by no means an odd number. The whole

animal, whether deer, bear, or moose, or whatever it may be, is cooked,

and they are expected to eat it all; and, if it is in their power, they

have a large bowl of bear’s grease standing by, which they drink in place

of water. Notwithstanding that a man who fails to eat all his portion, is

liable to the ridicule of his more gormandizing companions, it frequently

happens that some of them are compelled to make a present of tobacco to

their entertainer, and beg him to permit that they may not eat all he has

given them. In this case, and when there is no one of the company willing

to eat it for him, some one is called from without. In every part of this

feast, when it is made after the warriors leave home, they take care that

_no bone of the animal eaten shall be broken_; but after stripping the

flesh from them, they are carefully tied up, and hung upon a tree. The

reason they assign for preserving, in this feast, the bones of the victim

unbroken, is, that thus they may signify to the Great Spirit, their

desire to return home to their own country, with their bones uninjured.

5th. GITCHE-WE-KOON-DE-WIN—The great feast. This is a feast of high

pretensions, which few men, in any band, and only those of principal

authority, can venture to make. The animal is cooked entire, as far as

they are able to do it. This kind is sometimes called _mez-ziz-z-kwa-win_.

6th. WAW-BUN-NO WE-KOON-DE-WIN—Wawbeno feast. This, and the other

mummeries of the Wawbeno, which is looked upon as a false and mischievous

heresy, are now laid aside by most respectable Indians. These feasts

were celebrated with much noise and disturbance; they were distinguished

from all other feasts, by being held commonly in the night time, and the

showing off of many tricks with fire.

7th. JE-BI NAW-KA-WIN—Feast with the dead. This feast is eaten at the

graves of their deceased friends. They kindle a fire, and each person,

before he begins to eat, cuts off a small piece of meat, which he casts

into the fire. The smoke and smell of this, they say, attracts the Je-bi

to come and eat with them.

8th. CHE-BAH-KOO-CHE-GA-WIN—Feast for his medicine. During one whole

day in spring, and another in autumn, every good hunter spreads out the

contents of his medicine bag in the back part of his lodge, and feasts

his neighbours, in honour of his medicine. This is considered a solemn

and important feast, like that of the Metai.

9th. O-SKIN-NE-GE-TAH-GA-WIN—Boy’s feast. This might be called the feast

of the first fruits, as it is made on occasion of a boy, or a young

hunter, killing his first animal, of any particular kind. From the

smallest bird, or a fish, to a moose, or buffalo, they are careful to

observe it. Numerous instances of it occur in the foregoing narrative,

therefore it need not be dwelt upon.

OF FASTS AND DREAMING

Rigorous and long continued fasting is enjoined upon young and unmarried

persons of both sexes, and they begin at a very early age. The parent,

in the morning, offers the child the usual breakfast in one hand,

and charcoals in the other; if the latter is accepted, the parent is

gratified, and some commendations, or marks of favour, are bestowed on

the child. To be able to continue long fasting, confers an enviable

distinction. They, therefore, inculcate upon their children the necessity

of remaining long without food. Sometimes the children fast three, five,

seven, and some, as is said, even ten days; in all of which time they

take only a little water, and that at very distant intervals. During

these fasts, they pay very particular attention to their dreams, and from

the character of these, their parents, to whom they relate them, form

an opinion of the future life of the child. Dreaming of things above,

as birds, clouds, the sky, etc. is considered favourable; and when the

child begins to relate any thing of this kind, the parent interrupts

him, saying, “it is well, my child, say no more of it.” In these dreams,

also, the children receive impressions, which continue to influence their

character through life. A man, an old and very distinguished warrior, who

was some years ago at Red River, dreamed, when fasting in his childhood,

that a bat came to him, and this little animal he chose for his medicine.

To all the costly medicines for war or hunting, used by other Indians,

he paid no attention. Throughout his life he wore the skin of a bat tied

to the crown of his head, and in his numerous war excursions, he went

into battle exulting in the confidence that the Sioux, who could not

hit a bat on the wing, would never be able to hit him. He distinguished

himself in many battles, and killed many of his enemies; but throughout

his long life, no bullet ever touched him, all of which he attributed to

the protecting influence of his medicine, revealed to him, in answer to

his fasting in boyhood. Of Net-no-kwa, his foster mother, the author

of the foregoing narrative relates, that at about twelve years of age,

she fasted ten successive days. In her dream, a man came down and stood

before her, and after speaking of many things, he gave her two sticks,

saying, “I give you these to walk upon, and your hair I give it to be

like snow.” In all her subsequent life, this excellent woman retained the

confident assurance, that she should live to extreme old age, and often,

in times of the greatest distress from hunger, and of apparent danger

from other causes, she cheered her family by the assurance, that it was

given to her to crawl on two sticks, and to have her head like the snow,

and roused them to exertion by infusing some part of her own confident

reliance upon the protection of a superior and invisible Power.

The belief, that communications take place in dreams from superior

beings to men, is not peculiar to this people, or this age of the world.

Men, particularly, when their minds are little cultivated, are ever

ready to believe themselves objects of particular attention, and the

subjects of especial solicitude to their divinities. Among the Indians

of the Algonkin stock, many, and perhaps all, believe that not only

their prayers, in times of distress, are heard and answered, but they

think, that to some among them, are communicated in dreams intimations

of things which are to happen in remote times, and even after death.

It is probable their traditional belief of a future state, and of the

circumstances attending it, have made so strong an impression on the

minds of children, that they may often dream of it, and continue to do

so, at intervals during life. Accordingly, several may be found among

them, who, having in extreme sickness had their thoughts particularly

directed to this subject, and having, perhaps, been reduced so low as to

be considered in a desperate condition—(of a person in which situation

they speak as of one dead)—may have dreamed, or imagined the impressions

of their early childhood to have been realized. Hence, we hear them

relating, with confidence, that such and such persons have been dead,

and have travelled along the path of the dead, till they have come to

the great strawberry, which lies by the road, this side the river; they

have seen the river itself, some have even passed over it, and arrived in

the villages of the dead. Dreams of this kind seem to have been frequent

among them. But they have, most commonly, to tell of vexation, annoyance,

and disappointment. They have come to the great strawberry, at which

the Je-bi-ug refresh themselves, on their journey; but on taking up the

spoon, and attempting to separate a part of it, the berry has become a

rock, (which, with the people about Lake Superior, is a soft, red sand

rock, because the type exists in their country.) They have then gone on,

have been much alarmed at the Me-tig-ush-e-po-kit, (the swinging log,) on

which they have to cross, or at the great dog, who stands beyond it. They

have received taunts, and gibes, and insults, among their friends; have

been sneered at, and called Je-bi! have had ashes and water given them,

in place of Mun-dah-min aw-bo, or corn broth, bark for dried meat, and

O-zhush-kwa-to-wuk, or the large puckwi, called puff balls, for squashes.

Some men have commonly seen, in that country, only squaws, numbers of

whom have competed for them, as a husband, and the dreams of all have

been tinged with some shade of colour, drawn from their own peculiar

situation. How these people came first in possession of their opinions

respecting the country of the dead, cannot, perhaps, be known; but having

it, we should not be surprised that it influences their dreams.

CEREMONIES AT INTERMENTS

In connection with this subject, we may devote a moment to the

consideration of their idea of the human soul, or as they call it, the

shadow.[40] They think this becomes unsettled, or as it were detached

from the body in violent sickness; and they look upon a person who is

very low, as one already dead. Hence it is not unusual to hear them

speak of such and such a person, as being now dying, and yet to find

him survive, not only many days, but years; and when told of this, they

seem conscious of no impropriety in the expression: on the contrary,

they often say of a person, he _died_ at such a time, but _came again_.

I have also heard them reproach a sick person, for what they considered

imprudent exposure in convalescence; telling him that his shadow was not

well settled down in him, and that therefore he was in danger of losing

it. It would seem, however, that although they believe the soul leaves

the body previous to the commencement of dissolution in the former,

yet that it is not removed far from it until long after death. This is

manifest from their usage in the feast of Che-bah-koo-che-ga-win, and

from some of the ceremonies of interment, particularly in the case of

women, when their husbands are buried.

In the spring of the year 1826, a man of the Menomonies died and was

buried very near the encampment of a part of the fifth regiment of

United States infantry, on the high prairie in the rear of the village

of Prairie Du Chein, on the Mississippi. The body was attended to the

grave by a considerable number of the friends and relatives, and when it

was let down into the shallow grave, the wife of the deceased approached

the brink, and after looking down on the rude coffin, she stepped upon

it, and immediately across, taking her course over the plains, towards

the bluffs there, about a mile distant. This is a common practice of the

women of that tribe; and the mourner is careful, if she contemplates a

second marriage, never to look back towards the grave she has left, but

returns to her lodge by some devious and circuitous route. It is done, as

they say, that the Cha-pi (Je-bi of the Ojibbeways,) or the dead person,

may not be able to follow them afterwards. If the woman should look back,

they believe she would either fall dead immediately, or become insane,

and remain so ever after. On some occasions, but rarely, another person

accompanies the mourner, carrying a handful of small twigs, and following

immediately after her, flourishes it about her head, as if driving away

flies. The verb applicable to this action, is in the third person

singular, Wai-whai-na-how, the more general one applicable to the whole

ceremony, Ah-neuk-ken-new.

In the instance above mentioned, the woman walked rapidly, and without

looking back, across the wide prairie, in a direction almost opposite

that leading to her lodge; but her loud and bitter lamentings could be

heard at a great distance, seeming to contradict the action by which she

professed to seek an everlasting separation from the deceased.

The more common and well known observances paid to the dead by these

people, seem not to indicate such a destitution of affection as the

ceremony just described. In many of their customs relating to the

treatment of the dead, we can discover, not only the traces of kind

feeling, but a strong confidence in a future existence, and the belief

that their departed friends can know and estimate the value of friendly

offices rendered them after their departure. At the time of the great

council at Prairie Du Chein, in 1825, a Sioux chief, of the remote

band of the Sissitong, sickened and died of a bilious fever. He had

been a distinguished man among his own people, and, as he had come a

great distance from his own country, in obedience to the call of our

government, the military commandant at that post was induced to bury

him with the honours of war. The men of his band were gathered around

his body, in the lodge where he died, and when the escort arrived,

they raised him upon his bier, a hundred manly voices at the same time

chanting forth a requiem, thus rendered by a person well acquainted with

their language:

Grieve not, our brother! the path thou art walking

Is that in which we, and all men must follow.

And thus they continued to repeat, until they reached the grave. There

is something impressive and affecting in their habit of preserving and

dressing up the je-bi, or memorial of the dead, which, like our weeds

and crapes, finds a place in many a dwelling where little of mourning

is visible. Yet, though the place which death had made vacant in their

hearts, may have been filled, they seem never to forget the supply they

consider due the wants of the departed. Whenever they eat or drink

a portion is carefully set apart for the je-bi, and this observance

continues for years, should they not, in the mean time, have an

opportunity to send out this memorial with some war party; when, if it be

thrown down on the field of battle, as they aim always to do, then their

obligation to the departed ceases.

Of the Chippewyans, the Sarcees, the Strong Bows, and other tribes

inhabiting those dreary regions which border on the arctic circle, it

is related, that they in many instances omit to bury their dead, and

that they frequently desert their relatives and friends, whenever, from

sickness or old age, they become unable to endure the ordinary fatigues

of their manner of life. There is no more reason to question the accuracy

of these statements, than of those in relation to the cannibalism,

sodomy, and other shocking vices of more southern tribes. But as the

destitution of natural affection manifested in the conduct of many of

the American tribes towards their relatives in sickness and decrepitude,

is undoubtedly that among their vices, which is most abhorrent to the

feelings of civilized men, so we shall find the instances of rare

occurrence, except where the rigour of the climate, or other natural

causes, impose on them a necessity, to which we ourselves, in the same

circumstances, should probable yield as they do. The horrible practices

to which men of all races have been driven in besieged cities, in cases

of shipwreck, and other similar emergencies, should admonish us that the

Indians, as a race, deserve no peculiar detestation for crimes growing

unavoidably out of their situation.

CATALOGUE OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

_Found in the country of the Ojibbeways; with English names, as far as

these could be ascertained._

METIK-GOAG—Trees.

SHIN-GO-BEEK—Ever greens, or cone bearing trees.

Ma-ni-hik—Norway pine.

A-nee-naun-duk—Balsam fir.

Kik-kaun-dug—Spruce. The black pheasant feeds on the leaves.

Mus-keeg-wah-tick—Hackmatack, swamp wood.

Kaw-waun-duk—Single spruce.

Mis-kwaw-wauk—Red cedar.

Ke-zhik—White cedar.

Kaw-waw-zheek—Juniper bushes.

Kaw-waw-zheen-sha, or Ah-kaw-wun-je—Yew.

Kaw-kaw-ge-wingz—Hemlock spruce.

Puk-gwun-nah-ga-muk—White pine, (peeling bark.)

Shin-gwawk—Yellow pine.

NE-BISH-UN—Trees with broad leaves.

Nin-au-tik—Sugar maple, (our own tree.)

She-she-gum-maw-wis—River maple, (sap flows fast.)

Shah-shah-go-be-muk—low-ground maple.

Moons-omais—Striped maple, (Moose wood.)

Shah-shah-go-be-muk-oons—Spiked maple, (little

shah-shah-go-be-muk.)

We-gwos—White birch.

Ween-es-sik—Black birch.

Buh-wi-e-me-nin aw-gaw-wunje—Red Cherry, (the wood of the

shaken down fruit, or berry.)

Sus-suh-way-meen ah-ga-wunje—Choke cherry.

Buh-wi-me-nah-ne-gah-wunje—Black Cherry.

Nai-go-wim-me-nah gaw-we-zheen—Sand-cherry bushes.

Me-tik-o-meesh, (Mait-e-koma, Menomonie)—Black oak, (wood cup.)

Meesh-a-mish—White oak.

Ah-sah-tia—White poplar.

Mah-nu-sah-tia—Balsam poplar, (ugly poplar.)

Mat-heh-me-toos—Cree. Franklin’s narrative, p. 78.

Be-zhew-au-tik—Coffee bean tree, (wild cat tree.) Found only in

the south.

Way-miche-ge-meen-ah-ga-wunje—Honey locust, southern.

Uz-zhuh-way-mish—Beech; none northward of Mackinac.

Me-tig-wawb-awk—Smooth hickory, (smooth wood bow tree.)

Nas-kun-nuk-a-koosit Me-teg-waub-awk—Hickory, (rough bark bow

tree.)

A-neeb—Elm, white.

O-shah-she-go-pe—Red elm, two varieties: the bark of one only

used for sacks.

Wa-go-be-mish—Linn, (bark tree.)

Bug-gaun-awk—Black walnut.

Ke-no-sha bug-gaun-awk—Butternut, (long walnut.)

Ahn-za bug-gaun-awk—Pecan, southern.

Suz-zuh-wuh-ko-mist—Hackberry.

As-seme-nun—Pawpaw.

Boo-e-auk—White ash.

We-sug-auk—Black ash.

Bug-gaun-ne-me-zeesh-ah—Hazel bush.

Waw-bun wah-ko-meezh—White arrow wood.

We-ah-ko-meezh—Arrow wood.

Mus-kwaw be-muk—Red ozier.

O-to-pe—Alder. O-to-peen—Alders.

Sis-se-go-be-mish—Willow.

Bug-ga-sah-ne-mish—Plum tree.

Mish-she-min-nuh ga-wunje—Crab apple tree.

Mish-she-min au-tik—Crab apple wood, or tree.

Ne-be-min-ah-ga-wunje—High craneberry bush.

Tah-tah-te-mun-ah-ga-wunje—Black haw bush.

Ke-teg-ge-manito—New Jersey tea, (red root.)

Koose-gwaw-ko-mizhe-ga-wunje—High blue berry bush.

O-zhusk-ko-mi-zheen—Musk rat berries.

Be-mah-gwut—Grape.

We-gwos-be-mah-gwut—Birch grape.

Manito-be-mah-gwut, or manito-meen-a-gah-wunje—Cissus, a

climbing vine, with scattered berries, somewhat like grapes.

Mus-ke-ge-min[41]—Cranberry, crane berries, (Swamp berries.)

Sa-zah-ko-me-nah gah-wah-zheen, pl.—Saccacommis, or arbutus.

The leaves of this plant, the _uva ursa_ of the shops, are

commonly used by the Ojibbeways, in whose country it abounds,

to mix with their tobacco.

Waw-be-ko-meen-ah-ga-wunje—Nine bark, or spiraw.

Wis-seg-ge-bug, sing., wis-seg-ge-bug-goon, pl.—Bitter leaf; an

andromeda, very highly esteemed by the Indians, as a remedy,

and by them said to grow only about the Grand Traverse, in Lake

Huron.

Ne-kim-me-nun—Swamp whortle berries.

Shug-gus-kim-me-nun—Thimble berries, or flowering raspberries.

Kaw-waw-be-ga-koo-zit—White bark, a small tree at Lake Traverse.

Ut-tuh-be-ga-zhin-nah-gook—A shrub said to be found only in the

north.

Pah-posh-geshe-gun-au-tik—Red elder, (popgun wood,) very common

about Me-nau-zhe-taun-naug, and the islands in the Lake of the

Woods.

Bwoi-jim-me-nah-ga-wunje—Whortleberry bush.

Ne-kim-me-nah-ga-wunje—High blue berry bush.

Mus-keeg o-bug-goan—Labrador tea, (swamp leaves,) one of the

most esteemed of the products of cold and swampy regions; used

in decoction as tea.

Pe-boan-meen-ah-gaw-wunje—Winter berry bush, a prinos.

Mun-no-mun-ne-chee-beeg[42]—Red paint root.

Me-nais-sa gaw-wunje—Thorn apple.

Buz-zuk-ko-me-nais, sing., buz-zuk-ko-me-nais-ug, pl.—A kind of

thorn apple growing in the north, which sometimes kill bears

when they eat them in large quantities. The Indians suppose

that it is in consequence of the strongly adhesive quality of

the pulp, that they have this deleterious property.

Meen—Blue berry; mee-un—Blue berries, (fruit.) This is a word

that enters into the composition of almost all which are used

as the names of fruits or berries of any kind; as me-she-min,

or me-she-meen, an apple, o-da-e-min, a strawberry, or heart

berry, etc. The word ga-wunje, added to the name of any fruit

or berry, indicates the wood or bush.

Meen-ah-ga-wunje—Blue berry, or whortle berry bush.

Ma-ko-meen-ah-ga-wunje—Black currant bush.

Mish-e-je-min-ga-wunje—This is a bush growing at and about the

Lake of the Woods, which bears red currants, like those of the

gardens; but the currants are beset thickly with hairs.

Shah-bo-min-nun—Goose berries; Shah-bo-min ga-wunje—the bushes.

Mis-kwa-min—Raspberry; mis-kwa-min-nug—Raspberries.

Gaw-waw-ko-meesh—Black raspberries.

O-dah-tah-gah-go-min—Blackberry;

O-dah-tah-gah-go-me-nug—Blackberries.

Muk-kwo-me-nug, or muk-kwaw-me-nug—Bear berries;

Muk-ko-me-nah-ga-wunje—The mountain ash, or American service

tree.

O-gin-ne-mee-nah-wa-wunje—Rose bush. The fruit is much eaten in

winter by the starving Indians in the north.

All these are called Me-tik-goag, or woody plants.

WEAH-GUSH-KOAN[43]—Weeds, or herbaceous plants.

Me-zhus-keen, (Ma-zhus-koon on the Menomonies)—Grasses.

Na-bug-us-koan—Coarse swamp grass.

Anah-kun-us-koan—Bull rush, (matt grass.)

Be-gwa-wun-us-koan—Soft coarse grass. The name of the

Be-wi-o-nus-ko River and Lake, called Rush River on some of the

maps, is from this word. This word seems, in some districts, to

be used as the name of the cow parsley.

As-ah-gu-nus-koan—Bug-gusk—Iris.

Puk-kwi-usk-oge—Flags.

O-zhusk-gwut-te-beeg—Muskrat root, (a grass.)

_The following are not called Me-zhus-keen._

Muz-zha-nusk-koan—Nettles.

Skib-waw-we-gusk—Artichoke, a species of sun flower.

Ke-zhe-bun-ush-koan—Rushes.

O-kun-dum-moge—Pond lilies.

Ma-ko-pin, Ma-ko-pin-eeg, sin. and pl.—Chinkapin, or cyamus.

Waw-be-ze-pin-neeg—Arrow head, (swan potatoes.) The roots of

the common saggittaria, as well as the bulbs of some of the

crest flowering lilies, which are eaten by the Indians, receive

this name.

Mus-ko-ti-pe-neeg—Lily, (Prairie potatoes.)

Sah-sah-way-suk—Turkey potatoes.

O-kah-tahk—Cicuta.

Ma-ni-to O-kah-tahk—Sison? heracleum?

O-saw-wus-kwun-wees—Green small balls.

Sug-gut-ta-bo-way—Sticking burs; hounds tongues, etc.

Nah-ma-wusk—Spear mint, (sturgeon medicine.)

Wis-se-giche-bik—Indian’s physic, (bitter root; Callistachia.)

Mis-kwe-wis-che-be-kug-guk—Blood root.

A-zhush-a-way-skuk—Square stem scrophularia.

Be-zhew-wusk—Wild cat medicine.

Ke-na-beek-o-me-nun—Snake berries; Dracaena borealis.

Mainwake—Angelica, or cow parsley.

Me-tush-koo-se-min—Apple of the prairie of the Canadians,

(Psoralia,) much eaten by the Crees and Assinneboins, in whose

country it abounds.

Mah-nom-o-ne gah-wah-zheen, pl.—Wild rice, (the grass.)

Muk-koose-e-mee-nun—Young bear’s berries.

We-nis-se-bug-goon—Wintergreen.

Mus-kee-go-bug-goon—Swamp winter green; perhaps the little

rough wintergreen.

Be-na-bug-goon—Partridge flower.

Mus-ke-gway-me-taus—Side saddle flower, (Swamp bottles, in

allusion to the pitcher shaped leaves.)[44]

Muk-kud-da-we-che-be-kug-guk—Black roots.

Ta-ta-sis-koo-see-men—The flower that follows the sun.

Pe-zhe-ke-wusk—Buffalo medicine. Wild carrot?

She-wa-bug-goon—Sweet cicely, (sour leaf.)

A-nich-e-me-nun—Wild pea vine.

O-da-na-me-na-gaw-wun-zheen, pl.—Strawberry vines.

Se-bwoi-gun-nuk—Corn stalks, (chaw sweet.)

O-pin—Potato. O-pin-neeg—Potatoes.

O-guis-e-maun—Squashes. O-zaw-waw-o-guis-se-maun—Yellow

squashes.

Mis-kwo-de-se-min—Bean. Mis-kwo-de-se-me-nug—Beans.

As-ke-tum-moong—Melons.

Gitche-un-ne-beesh—Cabbage, (big leaf.)

Gitche-ne-beesh-un—great leaves.

Skush-kun-dah-min-ne-kwi-uk—Plantain; the leaves of this are

particularly observed by hunter, as they show, better than any

thing else, the age of the tracks of game.

Shig-gau-ga-win-zheeg,[45] pl.—Onions, (skunk weeds.)

O-kau-tauk—carrots.

Kitche-mus-ke-ke-meen—Red Pepper, (great medicine berry.)

Ba-se-kwunk—This is a red astringent root, much valued by the

Indians, as an application to wounds. Avens root?

Shah-bo-ze-gun—Milkweed. The Ojibbeway word signifies

_purgative_.

Waw-be-no-wusk—Yarrow, (Wawbeno medicine.)

Ke-zhe-bun-ush-kon-sun—Small rushes, in prairie.

Nah-nah-gun-e-wushk—Fern. Nah-nah-gun-ne-wush-koan—Ferns.

Wese-bain-jah-ko-nun—Usnaco.

Wah-ko-nug—Lichens; the edible gyrophora.

Ween-de-go-wah-ko-nug—Gyrophora inedible.

Waw-bah-sah-ko-nick—Sphagnun, used by the women to make a bed

for young children.

Ah-sah-ko-mik—Marchantia, and green mosses, on the shady sides

of trees.

O-zhusk-kwa-toan-suk—Reindeer moss-citrariac, etc.

O-ZHUSH-KWA-TO-WUG—Fungi.

Waw-but-to—Pine touch-wood.

Me-tik-o-mish O-zhusk-kwa-to-wug—White oak touch-woods much

used to burn mortars for pounding corn.

Sug-guh-tah-gun—Spunk.

Je-bi-e-push-kwa-e-gun—Zylostroma; dead people’s moccasin

leather, is the literal meaning of this word, which is applied

to the leather-like substance in the fissures of old trees.

O-je-bi-e-muk-ke-zin—Ghost or spirit moccasin; puff ball; dead

man’s shoe; sometimes called Anung-wug—stars.

AH-WES-SIE-UG[46]—Animals.

The diminutive termination is used for the young of animals,

and is, in the Ottawwaw dialect, generally in the sound

of _ns_, or _nce_, when the noun ends with a vowel. Thus,

_gwin-gwaw-ah-ga_, a wolverene; _gwin-gwaw-ah-gaince_, a young

wolverene; the _a_, in the last syllable, retaining the same

sound as in the word without the diminutive termination. When

any distinction of sex is made, it is commonly by prefixing the

words _i-ah-ba_ and _no-zha_, very similar in signification to

our _male_ and _female_; thus _i-ah-ba gwin-gwaw-ah-ga_, is a

male wolverene; _no-zha gwin-gwaw-ah-ga_, a female wolverene.

Gwin-gwaw-ah-ga—Wolverene, (tough beast.) Carcajou, French,

_northern glutton_, a very sagacious and mischievous animal,

but not of common occurrence; now principally found among the

lakes.

Na-nah-pah-je-ne-ka-se—A mole? (foot wrong way.)

Bo-taich-che-pin-gwis-sa—Gopher, (blow up the ground.)

Manito Muk-kwaw—Great grizzly bear, always found in the prairie.

Ma-mis-ko-gah-zhe-muk-kwaw—Red nail bear; very fierce and

dangerous, more feared by the Indians than the former, who very

rarely attacks a man, unless wounded; but the red nailed bear

attacks when unprovoked, and pursues with great speed. He lives

in rocky places in woods.

Muk-kwaw—Common bear; _ou-wash-ah_, of the Menomonies.

Muk-koons, or Muk-koonce—Cub; _ou-wa-sha-sha_, of the

Menomonies.

_I-aw-ba-koons_ and _no-zha-koons_, are used by the Ottawwaws

and Ojibbeways to distinguish the male and female bear,

where the Menomonies would use _ou-wa-shah e-nai-ne-wow_ and

_ou-wa-shah ma-tai-mo-shuh_.

Me-tun-nusk, Ojib.—Toothless, }

} Badger.

Mish-she-mo-nah-na, Ott.—Great burrower, }

Mus-ko-tai Chit-ta-mo—Prairie squirrel.

Mus-ko-tai Ah-gwin-gwoos—Prairie striped squirrel; small

squirrel, with stripes and spots, burrowing in the prairie,

sometimes with the _chittamo_.

Ah-gwin-gwoos—Chipping squirrel.

Atch-e-dah-mo—Red squirrel.

O-zhug-gus-kon-dah-wa—Flying squirrel, (strikes flat on a tree.)

Sun-nah-go, and Muk-kud-da As-sun-nah-go, and

Mis-kwaw-sun-nah-go—The grey, black and fox squirrels, not

found in the country north of Lake Superior.

Uk-kuk-koo-jees—Ground hog, smaller than in the states.

Me-sau-boos—Hare, white in winter.

Waw-boos—Rabbit, Meezh-way, Meezh-way-ug, sin. and pl.—Southern

rabbit.

Pish-tah-te-koosh—Antelope. This is reckoned the fleetest

animal in the prairie country, about the Assinneboin.

Pe-zhe-ke—Buffalo. No-zha-zha-pe-zhe-ke—A cow that has a young

calf following her. O-neen-jah-nis-pe-zhe-ke—Farrow cow.

Jah-ba-pe-zhe-ke—Bull. Pe-zhe-keence—A young calf. O-saw-waw

Koo-shance—A calf while the hair is red. Poo-nah-koosh—Calf, a

year old. Ah-ne-ka-boo-nah-koosh—two years old.

Gitche-pe-zhe-ke—Fossil mammoth.

Ma-nah-tik—Big horn.

Gitche-mah-nish-tah-nish—Rocky mountain sheep.

ANE-NE-MOO-SHUG—Dogs.

Na-ne-mo-why, Ott. }

} Small wolf, in prairie countries.

Mish-tuh-tah-si, Ojib. }

Mi-een-gun-nug—Common wolves.

Mi-een-gun—Common wolf.

Muk-hud-da-mi-een-gun—Black wolf.

Waw-be-mi-een-gun—White wolf.

Shoon-sho—Long eared hound.

An-ne-moosh—Common dog.

Ta-tah-koo-gaut-ta-was-sim—Short leg dog.

Be-gwi-wa-was-sim—Long haired dog; Newfoundland.

Ke-wis-kwa-mi-een-gun-nug—Mad wolves, sometimes seen, but

rarely bite, unless attacked.

WAW-GOO-SHUG—Foxes.

O-saw-waw-goosh—Common red fox.

Muk-kud-da-waw-goosh—Black fox.

Muk-kud-da-waw-goo-shug—Black foxes.

Wa-whaw-goosh—White fox, fur long, but of no value.

Ne-ke-kwa-tug-gah-wa-waw-goosh—Grey fox.

Pis-tat-te-moosh—Swift fox, (small dog.)

Kah-zhe-gainse—Common house cat, (little glutton.)

Pe-zhew—Wild cat.

Ke-tah-gah-pe-zhew—Lynx, (spotted wild cat.)

Me-she-pe-zhew—Panther, (big wild cat.)

Ah-meek—Beaver. Naub-ah-meek—Male beaver. Noazh-ah-meek—Female

beaver. An-meek-koanse—Young beaver.

Kin-waw-no-wish-shug, Cree }

} Black tailed deer.

Muk-kud-da-waw-wash-gais, Ojib. }

Waw-wash-gais—Red or Virginian deer.

O-mush-koons, Ojib. }

}

Me-sha-way, Ottaw. } Elk. On Red River,

} Mouse River, the Saskawjawun, etc.

Waw-was-kesh, Cree, }

Ah-dik—Reindeer. Ca-ri-bou, French. The feet very large and

broad, fitting the animal to travel over smooth ice, or deep

snow; found on all the shores of Lake Superior, and sometimes

at the upper end of Lake Huron; but most frequent farther north.

Mooze, or Moonce, Ojib. } Moose. The nasal sound, at the end of this

} word is common in these dialects; but it is

Moon-swah, Cree } difficult to represent, by the letters of

} our alphabet.

I-aw-ba-mooze—Buck moose. No-zha-mooze—Deer moose.

Moonze-aince—Little moose, etc.

A-yance—Opossum, only in the south. The word a-yance, means

_crafty_.

Shin-goos—Weasel, two kinds.

Shin-goo-sug—Weasels.

Ne-gik—Otter. Ne-gik-wug—Otters.

Kwaush-kwaush-ko-tah-be-ko-sheezh.

Keen-waw-no-wa waw-waw-be-gun-o-je—Long tail leaping mouse.

Waw-waw-be-gun-o-je—Mouse.

Ah-mik-waw-waw-be-gun-o-je—Beaver, or diving mouse.

Kah-ge-bin-gwaw-kwa—Shrew. Two species are common about St.

Maries, in winter.

Kahg—Porcupine.[47] Kahg-wug—Porcupines.

Shong-gwa-she—Mink.

Wah-be-zha-she—Marten. _Woapchees_, Z. p. 18.

A-se-bun—Raccoon.

She-gahg—Skunk.

O-zhusk—Muskrat.

Ah-puk-kwon-ah-je—Bat.

O-jeeg—Fisher weasel, a very stupid animal, easy to kill.

BA-BAH-MO-TA-JEEG—Reptiles.

Nau-to-way—Thick, short rattle snake. (Sha-no-we-naw—The

rattler?)

She-she-gwa—Common rattle snake. Both these are occasionally

kept tame by the Indians. They sometimes make feasts to them,

and they are said to be very docile and intelligent.

Me-tik-o-she-she-gwa—Adder.

Na-wa—Moccasin snake.

Pih-kun—Prairie snake. At the head of Mouse River, and in the

prairies towards the Missouri, these snakes are more than six

feet long, and proportionably large. Pih-kun-un are common

snakes, but never half so large as the above.

Mis-kwan-dib—Red head; copper snake?

O-zha-wus-ko Ke-na-beek—Green snake.

Muk-kud-da Ke-na-beek—Black snake.

O-mus-sun-dum-mo—Water snake.

Wa-in-je-tah Ke-na-beek—Garter snake, (right or true ge-na-bik.)

O-kaute Ke-na-beek—Lizzard, (legged snake.)

Gee-kut-tau-naung—Lizzard of some kind.

Que-we-zains—Little boy, (also a lizzard.)

Nib-be-ke O-muh-kuk-ke—Oribicular lizzard? (medicine frog.)

Wain-je-tah O-muh-kuk-ke—Right frogs, or common frog.

Dain-da—Bull frog, _and Hannie_, Z. 19.

Mis-ko-muh-kuk-ke—Red toad.[48]

Be-go-muh-kuk-ke—Common toads. These two last, at the approach

of winter, place themselves erect on the surface of the ground,

on their hams, and by turning themselves round and round, they

sink into the ground, which closes over them, and they keep

below the frost. They are often found, several within two or

three feet of each other, buried deep in the earth, but keeping

constantly their heads erect.

O-shaw-wus-ko-muh-kuk-ke—Tree frog.

Me-zhe-ka, Ottaw. }

} Large tortoise.

Me-kin-nauk, Ojib. }

Ta-ta-be-ko-nauk—Soft shelled tortoise.

Boos-kut-ta-wish—A tortoise with round deep shells.

Mis-kwaw-tais-sa—Terrapin.

Sug-gus-kwaw-ge-ma—Leech.

BE-NAIS-SE-WUG—Birds.

Ke-neu—War eagle; the master of all birds.

Me-giz-ze—White headed eagle. Me-giz-ze-wug, plural.

Ka-kaik—Spotted hawk.

Be-bo-ne-sa, Ottaw. }

} Winter hawk.

Ke-bu-nuz-ze, Ojib. }

No-je-ke-na-beek-we-zis-se—Marsh hawk, (snake eating.)

Wa-be-no-je Ke-na-beek-we-zis-se—White marsh hawk.

Mis-ko-na-ne-sa—Red tail hawk.

Pish-ke-neu—Black tail hawk.

Muk-kud-da-ke-neu—Black hawk.

Bub-be-nug-go—Spotted tail hawk.

Be-na-seen’s—Small pheasant hawk.

Cha-een-sa—A small hawk, so named from its cry.

Pe-pe-ge-wiz-zain’s—Smallest hawk.

We-nong-ga—Turkey buzzard.

Kah-gah-ge, Ojib. }

} Raven. Kah-gah-ge-wug—Ravens.

Gau-gau-ge-she, Ott. }

On-daig—Crow. On-daig-wug—Crows.

As-sig-ge-nawk—Black bird.

Mis-ko-min-gwe-gun-nah Sig-ge-nauk—Red wing black bird.

O-pish-kah-gah-ge—Magpie. O-pish-kah-gah-ge-wug—Magpies.

Gween-gwe-sha—Similar in habits and locality to the former, and

closely resembling, in size and colour, the following.[49]

Teen-de-se—Blue jay. These begin to lay their eggs before the

snow is off the ground in the spring.

Be-gwuk-ko-kwa o-wais-sa—Thrush.

Ah-luk—Similar to the thrush in habits.

Ween-de-go be-nais-sa—King bird, (the bird that eats his own

kind.)

O-pe-che[50]—Robin.

Ma-mah-twa—Cat bird.

Chaum-ma-wais-she—Another of the same size.

Kos-kos-ko-na-ching—Ground bird? A small bird so named from its

note.

Put-tas-se-wis.

Waw-be-ning-ko-se—Snow birds.

Che-ki-che-gau-na-sa—A very small lively bird, peculiar to the

north.

Mis-kobe-na-sa—Red bird.

Sa-ga-bun-wau-nis-sa—Waxen chatterer.

O-zhah-wus-kobe-na-sa—Green bird.

O-zaw-we-be-na-sa—Yellow bird.

Ma-ma—Red headed wood pecker.

Paw-paw-sa—Spotted wood pecker.

Muk-kud-da paw-paw-sa—Black pawpawsa. The male of this kind,

has a bright yellow spot on the top of the head. They are found

about Lake Superior in winter.

Mo-ning-gwan-na—Yarril, (highhold.)

Ke-ke-ba-na—small spotted wood pecker.

Che-gaun-do-wais-sa—Brown wood pecker, confined to cedar

countries.

Shin-go-beek-ai-sa—Cedar bird.

Gitche-o-gish-ke-mun-ne-sa—Great king fisher.

O-gish-ke-mun-ne-sa[51]—Common king fisher.

Shaw-shaw-wa-ne-bais-sa—Swallow.

O-ge-bun-ge-gush.

O-kun-is-sa—Loxia enudeator, found at Lake Superior in February.

Pe, sing. Pe-ug, pl.—A fringilla, smaller than the waxen

chatterer. The female has a spot of red on the top of the head;

the male, the whole head and neck of the same colour. The tail

feathers are bent outwards near the ends. Found about Lake

Superior in the winter.

Mam-mah-twa.

Bosh-kun-dum-moan—Parakeet, (croch perons.)

Moash-kah-o-se We-kum-mo, (Menomonie)—Stake driver, (bittern.)

Kun-nuh waw-be-mokee-zhis wais-sa—Fly up the creek, (sun gazer.)

Me-mom-i-ne-ka-she—Rail, (rice bird.)

Pud-dush-kon-zhe—Snipe.

Gitche-pud-dush-kon-zhe—Wood cock.

CHE-CHEES-CHE-ME-UK—Waders.

Mo-voke—Curliew, (a foreign word.)

Mus-ko-da che-chees-ke-wa—Upland plover.

Wain-je-tah che-chees-ke-wa—Yellow leg plover.

Che-to-waik—Bull head plover.

Che-chees-ke-wais—Tern.

Wawb-uh-che-chawk—White Crane.

O-saw-waw-che-chawk—Sand hill crane.

Me-zis-sa—Turkey.

Be-na—Pheasant.

Mush-ko-da-sa—Grouse; confined to pine and cedar countries.

Ah-gusk, (Ojib.) Ke-waw-ne, (Ott.)—Prairie hen.

O-me-me—Pigeon; o-me-meeg—pigeons. Amemi, Z. 19.

KO-KO-KO-OGE[52]—Owls.

Waw-wain-je gun-no—Great horned owl.

Wain-je-tah koko-koho—Right owl.

Koko-oanse—Little owl; gokhotit, Z. 18.

Bo-dah-wah doam-ba—Size of a pigeon, (membrum virile.)

Kaw-kaw-be-sha—Brown owl.

Waw-be-ko-ko—Snow owl, very large.

Waw-o-nais-sa—Whippoorwill.

Baish-kwa—Night hawk.

SHE-SHE-BUG—Ducks.

Waw-be-zee—Great Swan.

Mah-nah-be-zee—Smaller swan, not common. Their cry resembles

the voice of a man. The word means ugly or ill looking swan.

Ne-kuh—Brant, ne-kug, pl.

Pish-ne-kuh—A smaller brant.

Wa-wa—Goose; Wa-waig—Geese; Waw-be-wa-wa—White goose;

Waw-be-wa-waig—White geese.

An-ne-nish-sheeb—Duck and mallard.

Tah-gwaw-ge she-sheeb—Fall duck, red neck.

Mah-to-gun she-sheeb—Scrapper bill duck.

Scah-mo—Wood duck.

Wa-weeb-ge-won-ga—Blue wing teal, (swift winged.)

Ke-nis-te-no-kwa sheeb—Cree woman duck.

Muk-kud-da sheeb—Black duck.

Kitche-waw-we-big-wa-wya—Large blue wing duck.

Pe-gwuk-o-she sheeb—Large bill, or blunt arrow duck; from

pe-gwuk, the blunt or unbarbed arrow. This species has a large

bill, and head of a leaden colour. They are found throughout

the winter, in the rapids between Lakes Superior and Huron.

Ma-muh-tway-ah-ga—Whistling wing.

Kee-no-gwaw-o-wa sheeb—Long neck duck.

A-ha-wa—House duck.

Wah-ka-we sheeb—White duck.

Gaw-waw-zhe-koos—Shell duck.

Ah-zig-wuk—Fishing duck.

Sah-gah-ta—Mud hen.

Shin-ge-bis—Greebe; Gitche-shin-ge-bis—Large greebe.

Mahng—Loon.

A-sha-mahng—Small loon.

Gau-gau-geshe sheeb—Cormorant.

Sha-da—Pelican; sha-daig—Pelicans.

Shuh-shuh-gah—Blue Heron.

GI-AUSHK-WUG—Gulls.

Gitche-gi-aushk—Great gull. Gi-as-koo-sha of the Ottawwaws.

Paush-kaw gi-aushk—Black headed gull.

Nas-so-waw-gwun-nus-kitte-kwah-gi-aushk—Fork tailed gull.

Muk-kud-da gi-aushk—Black gull.

MAN-E-TOANSE-SUG[53]—Insects.

Bo-dush-kwon-e-she—Large dragon fly.

Bo-dus-kwon-e-sheense—Small dragon fly.

Gitche-me-ze-zauk[54]—Large horse fly.

Me-zauk—Common horse fly.

Me-zauk-oons—Nat fly.

Gitche-ah-mo—Humble bee. Amoe, a bee, Z. 19.

Ah-mo, sing., ah-maag, pl.—Wasps, hornets, etc.

Waw-waw-tais-sa—Lightning bug.

An-ne-me-ke wid-de-koam[55]—Miller, sphinx, thunder’s louse.

Pah-puk-ke-na—Grasshopper.

Ad-de-sah-wa-a-she—Locust.

Mow-wytch-e-ka-se—Beetle, (dung worker.)

Gitche-o-mis-kose—Great water bugs.

O-mis—Common water bug.

Ma-maing-gwah—Butterfly.

Metig-onishe-moan-ka-she—(He that sleeps in a stick.) Found in

the bottom of springs.

Sha-bo-e-ya-sa—Rowing water bug.

Man-e-toanse o-ke-te-beeg pe-me-but-toan—Literally, the little

(creature or) spirit that runs on the water.

O-mush-ko-se-se-wug—Grass bugs.

O-o-chug—Blowing flies and house flies.

Sug-ge-ma—Mosquito.

Pin-goosh, pin-goosh-ains-sug—Gnats and sand flies.

Mat-wa-nuh-kai-moag—Swarming flies.

Sub-be-ka-she—Spider, (net worker.) A-a-be-ko—Large black

spider.

An-e-go—Ant.[56]

Mis-ko-manetoanse—A little red bug common in the north.

Me-nah-koo-sit manetoanse—Strawberry bug.

Puh-beeg—Flea; Puh-beeg-wug—Fleas.

Eze-gaug—Tick.

E-kwuh—Louse; E-kwug—Lice.

MO-SAIG—Worms.

O-zah-wash-ko-mo-sah—Green worm.

Way-muk-kwah-na—Great caterpillar, (bear skin.)

Gitche-mo-sa—Great white grub; gitche-mo-saig, plural.

Me-shin-no-kau-tait-mo-sa—Millipede.

Pe-mis-koo-de-seence—Snail.

KE-GOI-YUG—Fishes.

Nah-ma—Sturgeon.

Mas-ke-no-zha—Maskenonge, or pike.

O-zhaw-wush-ko ke-no-zha—Green pickerel, only found in the

north.

Ke-no-zha—Pickerel; from kenose, long.

Nah-ma-goosh—Trout.

Na-zhum-ma-goosh—Brook trout.

Ne-git-che—Buffalo fish.

Bush-she-to—Sheeps head; bush-she-toag, plural.

Mon-nuh-she-gun—Black bass.

Ad-dik-kum-aig, (attai-kum-meeg, Menom.)—White fish, or

rein-deer fish; from ad-dik, rein-deer, and gum-maig, water.

Buh-pug-ga-sa—Large sucker.

Mis-kwaw-zhe-gun-no—Red horse.

Nah-ma-bin—Sucker; Mis-kwun nah-ma-bin—Red sucker.

Ug-gud-dwawsh—Sun fish.

Sah-wa—Perch, (yellow.) Sah-waig, pl.

O-ka-ah-wis—Fresh water herring.

We-be-chee—A flat fish larger than herring; only found in Red

River.

Mon-num-maig—Great cat fish.

Ah-wa-sis-sie—Little catfish. The Indians say this fish hatches

its young in a hole in the mud, and that they accompany her for

some time afterwards.

Ke-na-beek gwum-maig—Eel, (water snake.)

O-da-che-gah-oon—Gar.

Shig-gwum-maig—Shovel nose; only in the Mississippi.

Kuk-kun-naun-gwi—Little toad fish; Lake Huron.

O-gah-suk—Little dories; Lake Huron.

O-gah—Dory.

Bug-gwut-tum-mo-goon-suk—These are small fishes, that make

their appearance in ponds having no connection with rivers or

lakes, and which are sometimes quite dry. But though they all

perish in times of drought, they re-appear when the ponds are

filled.

Shaw-ga-she—Craw fish.

Ais—Clam; Ais-sug—Clams.

Ais-ainse—Little clam.

Mis-koan-sug—Red clams.

MINERALS

That the Indians are less observant of inanimate substances than of

organized beings, will be manifest from the following meagre catalogue of

minerals.

Bin-gwaw-beek—Lime stone, (ashes stone.)

Mat-toat-wah-nah-beek—Granite.

Muk-kud-dah-waw-beek—Black stone.

Mik-kwum-me-waw-beek—White Flint, (ice stone.)

Pish-ah-beek—Sulphuret of iron. They often find this passing

into sulphate of iron, and make use of it for dying black.

O-poih-gun-us-sin—Pipe stone; farther distinguished according

to colour.

O-skaw-shut-waw-beek—Gneiss, (vein stone.)

Mis-kwaw-sin—Red sand stone.

Gaw-gaw-wusk—Gypsum.

Waw-be-gun—White clay.

O-num-un—Ochre.

Mis-kwaw-be-gun—Red earth.

O-saw-waw-be-gun—Yellow earth.

Muk-kud-da-wuk-kum-mik—Black mould.

Waw-be-gun-uk-kaw—Clay ground.

OF TOTEMS

Among the Indians of the Algonkin stock, every man receives from his

father a _totem_, or family name. They affirm that no man is, by

their customs, allowed to change his totem; and as this distinctive

mark descends to all the children a man may have, as well as to all

the prisoners he may take and adopt, it is manifest that, like the

genealogies of the Hebrews, these totems should afford a complete

enumeration of the stocks from which all the families have been

derived. It differs not from our institution of surnames, except that

the obligations of friendship and hospitality, and the restraint upon

intermarriage, which it imposes, are more scrupulously regarded. They

profess to consider it highly criminal for a man to marry a woman whose

totem is the same as his own; and they relate instances where young men,

for a violation of this rule, have been put to death by their nearest

relatives. They say, also, that those having the same totem are bound,

under whatever circumstances, as they meet, even though they should be of

different and hostile bands, to treat each other not only as friends, but

as brethren, sisters, and relatives of the same family.

Of the origin of this institution, and of the obligation to its strict

observance, the Indians profess to know nothing. They say they suppose

the totem was given them in the beginning, by their creator. Like

surnames among us, these marks are now numerous; and, as in the case of

our surnames, it is difficult to account for their multiplicity, without

supposing a time when they might have been changed, or new ones adopted,

more easily than at present.

It is not, as yet, well ascertained that any of the North American

Indians, except those of the Algonkin family, have these peculiar

genealogical marks. Those of the great Chippewyan family, in the north,

we are well assured, have them not. From long acquaintance with the

Dahcotah bands of the Mississippi and St. Peters, in which designation

we include the Hoochawgenah, or Winnebagoes, and the Ioways, and from a

more transient sojourning among the Otoes, the Kansas, the Omawhawes,

the Pawnees, and other western tribes, we have, with careful inquiry and

search, been able to collect no intimation of such a custom among them.

But of the western Indians we cannot speak with entire confidence, as we

recollect to have heard Renville, an interpreter for the Sioux, after

much puzzling and cross-examination, admit that something of the kind

might exist among that people. It may be observed, that the Algonkins

believe all other Indians to have totems, though, from the necessity they

are in general under, of remaining ignorant of those of hostile bands,

the omission of the totem in their picture writing serves to designate an

enemy. Thus, those bands of Ojibbeways who border on the country of the

Dahcotah, or Sioux, always understand the figure of a man without totem,

to mean one of that people.

CATALOGUE OF TOTEMS

_Among the Ottawaws and Ojibways with the names of some to whom they

belong._

Muk-kwaw—Bear, the totem of Pe-ga-gun, O-shaw-wa-no, and

O-ka-taw, chiefs of Waw-gun-nuk-kiz-ze.

Ke-no-zha—Pickerel, of A-ke-win-de-ba.

Ad-dik-kun-maig—White fish, of Wawb-o-jeeg, (the white fisher.)

Moons—Moose, of Naw-o-gee-zhik, (in the middle of the sky.)

This is said to be the original totem of the Ottawwaws; having

received many accessions of people from other bands, many other

totems have been derived from them, and are now intermixed with

the original stock.

Ad-dik—Rein deer, of Ma-mi-ah-jun, (he that goes.)

Mahng—A loon, of Too-beesh.

Me-giz-ze—White headed eagle, of Me-zhuk-kwun-na-no.

Ka-kaik—Henhawk, of O-ge-mah-we-nin-ne.

Pe-pe-ge-wiz-zains—Sparrow hawk, of Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa.

Ah-meek—Beaver, of Wa-me-gon-a-biew and Net-no-kwa.

Mus-sun-dum-mo—Water snake, of O-kin-je-wun-no, Sin-ne-way, etc.

——Forked tree, of Keme-wun-O-jeeg, etc.

Gi-oshk—Gull, of Puh-koo-se-gun.

Ad-je-jawk—Crane, of Au-da-mene.

Nah-ma-bin—Sucker, of Nain-noh-we-ton.

Pe-zhew—Wild cat; common totem among the Muskegoes.

Ah-wa-sis-se—Small cat fish, of Matche-kwe-we-zainse. Sometimes

they call the people of this totem, “those who carry their

young,” from the habits of the small cat fish.

She-she-gwun—Rattle snake; the totem of Gish-kaw-ko,

Manito-o-geezhik, etc. and by them given to Tanner.

Many more might be enumerated, but these are sufficient to give an idea

of the kinds of objects from which they choose to derive their names.

The trivial or common name of a man may be, and often is, changed on his

going to war, or at the occurrence of any remarkable event; but the totem

is never changed. It is not true, that they have, in all instances, the

figure of whatever may be their totem always tattooed on some part of

their body, nor that they carry about them a skin, or any other mark,

by which it may be immediately recognised. Though they may sometimes

do this, they are, in other instances, when they meet as strangers,

compelled to inquire of each other their respective totems.[57]

The word _totem_ is of the Ojibbeway language, and, like almost all

others, is readily moulded into the form of a verb, as will appear from

the following examples:—

Ah-neen en-dah che-un-net, O-to-tem-e-waun maun-duh-pe?

How many are these are totems here?

How many are the totems of this band?

Wa-nain way-gi-osh-kun wa-to-ta-met?

What the gull is his totem?

What is the gull’s totem?

KNOWLEDGE OF ASTRONOMY

Of the opinions of the Indians respecting the heavenly bodies, little

need be said. An extensive acquaintance with the motions, figures,

distances, etc. of these bodies, could not have been expected from people

situated as they are, and deprived altogether of the aids of instruments,

and a written language. They pretend to no more knowledge on these

subjects than they possess.

Au-do-me-ne, an intelligent Ottawwaw of Wawgunuk-kizze, in answer to my

inquiries concerning their opinion of the sun and moon, related to me the

following fable:—

Long ago, an old Ojibbeway chief, and his wife, who lived on the

shore of Lake Huron, had one son, a very beautiful boy. His name was

Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, (he that catches clouds,) and his totem, after that

of his father, a beaver. He would have been a great favourite with them,

for he was, in the main, affectionate and dutiful, except that they could

never persuade him to fast. Though they gave him charcoal, in place of

his usual breakfast, he would never blacken his face, and if he could

find fish eggs, or the head of a fish, he would roast them, and have

something to eat. Once they took from him what he had thus cooked in

place of his accustomed breakfast, and threw him some coals instead of

it. But this was the last of many attempts to compel him to fast. He

took up the coals, blackened his face, went out, and lay down. At night,

he did not return into the lodge of his parents, but slept without. In

his dream he saw a very beautiful woman come down from above, and stand

at his feet. She said, “Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, I am come for you; see that

you step in my tracks.” The lad obeyed without hesitation, and stepping

carefully in her steps, he presently found himself ascending above the

tops of the trees, through the air, and beyond the clouds. His guide at

length passed through a small round hole, and he following her, found

himself standing on a beautiful and extensive prairie.

They followed the path, which led them to a large and rich looking

lodge; entering here, they saw on one side pipes and war clubs, bows,

arrows, and spears, with the various implements and ornaments of men.

At the other end of the lodge were the things belonging to women. Here

was the home of the beautiful girl who had been his companion, and she

had, on the sticks, a belt she had not finished weaving. She said to

him, “My brother is coming, and I must conceal you.” So putting him in

one corner, she spread the belt over him. Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, however,

watched what passed without, from his concealment, and saw the brother of

the young woman come in, most splendidly dressed, and take down a pipe

from the wall. After he had smoked, he laid aside his pipe, and the sack

containing his pah-koo-se-gun, and said, “When, my sister, will you cease

from these practices? Have you forgotten that the Greatest of the Spirits

has forbidden you to steal the children of those who live below? You

suppose you have concealed this that you have now brought, but do I not

know that he is here in the lodge? If you would not incur my displeasure,

you must send him immediately down to his friends.” But she would not.

He then said to the boy, when he found that his sister was determined

not to dismiss him, “You may as well come out from that place, where you

are not concealed from me, and walk about, for you will be lonesome and

hungry if you remain there.” He took down a bow and arrows, and a pipe of

red stone, richly ornamented, to give him. So the boy came out from under

the belt, and amused himself with the bow and pipe the man gave him, and

he became the husband of the young woman who had brought him up from the

woods near his father’s lodge.

He went abroad in the open prairie, but in all this fair and ample

country, he found no inhabitants, except his wife and her brother. The

plains were adorned with flowers, and garnished with bright and sparkling

streams, but the animals were not like those he had been accustomed to

see. Night followed day, as on the earth, but with the first appearance

of light, the brother-in-law of Ono-wut-to-kwut-to began to make his

preparations to leave the lodge. All day, and every day, he was absent,

and returned in the evening; his wife, also, though not so regular in

the time of her departure and return, was often absent great part of the

night.

He was curious to know where they spent all the time of their absence,

and he obtained from his brother-in-law permission to accompany him

in one of his daily journeys. They went on in a smooth and open

path, through prairies, to which they could see no boundary, until

Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, becoming hungry, asked his companion if he did not

think he should find any game. “Be patient, my brother,” said he; “this

is my road in which I walk every day, and at no great distance is the

place where I constantly eat my dinner. When we arrive there you shall

see how I am supplied with food.”

They came at length to a place where were many fine mats to sit

down upon, and a hole through which to look down upon the earth.

Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, at the bidding of his companion, looked down through

this hole, and saw far beneath him the great lakes, and the villages, not

of the Ojibbeways only, but of all the red skins. In one place he saw

a war party, stealing silently along toward the hunting camp of their

enemies, and his companion told him what would be the result of the

attack they were about to make. In another place he saw people feasting

and dancing: young men were engaged at their sports, and here and there

women were labouring at their accustomed avocations.

The companion of Ono-wut-to-kwut-to called his attention to a group of

children playing beside a lodge. “Do you see,” said he, “that active and

beautiful boy?” at the same time throwing a very small stone, which hit

the child, who immediately fell to the ground, and presently they saw him

carried into the lodge. Then they saw people running about, and heard the

she-she-gwun, and the song and prayer of the medicine man, entreating

that the child’s life might be spared. To this request his companion made

answer, “Send me up the white dog.” Then they could distinguish the hurry

and bustle of preparation for a feast, a white dog killed and singed, and

the people, who were called, assembling at the lodge. While these things

were passing, he addressed himself to Ono-wut-to-kwut-to, saying, “There

are, among you in the lower world, some whom you call great medicine men;

but it is because their ears are open, and they hear my voice, when I

have struck any one, that they are able to give relief to the sick. They

direct the people to send me whatever I call for, and when they have sent

it, I remove my hand from those I had made sick.” When he had said this,

the white dog was parcelled out in dishes, for those that were at the

feast; then the medicine man, when they were about to begin to eat, said,

“We send thee this, Great Manito;” and immediately they saw the dog,

cooked, and ready to be eaten, rising to them through the air. After they

had dined, they returned home by another path.

In this manner they lived for some time, but Ono-wut-to-kwut-to had not

forgotten his friends, and the many pleasant things he had left in his

father’s village, and he longed to return to the earth. At last, his wife

consented to his request. “Since,” said she, “you are better pleased

with the poverty, the cares, and the miseries of the world beneath, then

with the peaceful and permanent delights of these prairies, go. I give

you permission to depart; not only so, but since I brought you hither, I

shall carry you back to the place where I found you, near your father’s

lodge; but remember, you are still my husband, and that my power over you

is in no manner diminished. You may return to your relatives, and live

to the common age of man by observing what I now say to you. Beware how

you venture to take a wife among men. Whenever you do so, you shall feel

my displeasure; and if you marry the second time, it is then you will be

called to return to me.”

Then Ono-wut-to-kwut-to awoke, and found himself on the ground, near

the door of his father’s lodge. Instead of the bright beings of his

vision, he saw about him his aged mother, and his relatives, who told

him he had been absent about a year. For some time he was serious and

abstracted; but, by degrees, the impression of his visit to the upper

world wore off. He began to doubt the reality of what he had heard and

seen. At length, forgetful of the admonitions of his spouse, he married a

beautiful young woman of his own tribe. Four days afterwards she was a

corpse. But even the effect of this fearful admonition was not permanent.

He again ventured to marry, and soon afterwards, going out of his lodge

one night, to listen to some unusual noise, he disappeared, to return no

more. It was believed that his wife from the upper world came to recall

him, according to her threat, and that he still remains in those upper

regions, and has taken the place of his brother-in-law, in overlooking

the affairs of men.

It appears from this tradition, that worship, or sacrifices, are, among

the Ottawwaws, sometimes made to the sun and moon; and they acknowledge

that these luminaries, or rather the man in the sun, and the woman in the

moon, keep watch over all our actions.

The various changes of the moon afford them a method of measuring time,

very definite as to the periods, but variable in the names they give

them. Their old men have many disputes about the number of moons in each

year, and they give different names to each of these. Some of the names

in common use are the following. The first words are in the Ottawwaw, and

the second in the Menomonie dialect.

O-tu-hu-mene kee-zis—O-tai-hai-min ka-zho—Strawberry moon.

Me-nes kee-zis—Main ka-zho—Whortleberry moon.

Menomonie-ka-we kee-zis—Pohia-kun ka-zho—Wild rice gathering

moon.

Be-nah-kwaw-we kee-zis—Paw-we-pe-muk ka-zho—Leaves falling moon.

Gush-kut-te-ne kee-zis—Wun-nai ka-zho—Ice moon.

Ah-gim-me-ka-we kee-zis—Wa-si-ko-si ka-zho—Snow shoes, Ojib;

bright night, Menom.

Mah-ko kee-zis—Wa-mun-nus-so ka-zho—(Manito o-kee-zis,

Ojib.)—Bear moon, Ott.; deer rutting moon, Men.; (Spirit moon,

Ojib.)

Kitche-manito o-kee-zis—Ma-cha-ti-wuk wa-mun-nuz-so-wuk—Longest

moon, good for hunting.[58]

Me-giz-ze-we kee-zis—Na-ma-pin ka-zho—(Na-ma-bin kee-zis,

Ott.)—Sucker moon.

Ne-ke kee-zis—Sho-bo-maw-kun ka-zho—Brant moon, Ojib.; Sugar

moon, Men.

Maung-o kee-zis—As-sa-bun ka-zho—Loon’s moon, Ojib.; raccoon

moon, Men.

Sah-ge-bug-ah-we kee-zis—Pe-ke-pe-muk ka-zho—Leaves moon.

Another moon spoken of by the Menomonies, is Wai-to-ke Ka-zho, the snake

moon, which belongs to the spring season.

The following short catalogue of stars and constellations, will show that

they pay some attention to the more remote of the heavenly bodies. Some

few of their old men, it is said, have many more names.

Waw-bun-an-nung—The morning star.

Ke-wa-din-an-nung—The north star.

Muk-koo-ste-gwon—The bear’s head. Three stars in the triangle.

Muh-koo-zhe-gwun—Bear’s rump. Seven stars.

Oj-eegan-nung-wug—Fisher stars. The bright stars in ursa major,

and one beyond, which forms the point of the fisher’s nose.

Mah-to-te-sun—The sweating lodge. One of the poles of this

lodge is removed. They say the man whom they point out near by,

was so overcome with the heat of the Mah-to-te-sun, that in his

hurried attempt to escape, he pulled up this pole.

Mahng—A loon.

Nau-ge-maun-gwait—Man in a canoe hunting the loon.

Ah-wah-to-wuh o-moag—The companions sailing.

An-nung-o-skun-na—Comet. They have the opinion common among

ignorant white people, that the appearance of a comet

is an indication that war is to follow. The Ojibbeway

An-nung-o-skun-na, seems to signify blazing star. The

Menomonies call them Sko-tie-nah-mo-kin, the seeing fire. Some

of the Ojibbeways, also, Wa-ween-e-zis-e-mah-guk Ish-koo-da,

fire that has hair.

Of the true cause of the increase and decrease of the moon, of eclipses,

and of other phenomena which depend upon the motions of the heavenly

bodies, they have no correct conceptions. When the moon is in eclipse,

they say it is dying, and they load and discharge their guns at it; and

when they perceive the bright part becoming a little larger, they imagine

they have aided to drive away the sickness which was overpowering it.

Of the milky way, they sometimes say, that a turtle has been swimming

along the bottom of the sky, and disturbed the mud. Of the aurora

borealis, which they call the dance of the dead, their opinion, though

a little more poetic, is equally childish. Several meteoric phenomena

they distinguish from those remoter appearances which are beyond our

atmosphere, and of the former they sometimes say, “they belong to us.”

What was long ago stated by Roger Williams, of the mythology of the

Indians of Rhode Island, agrees but in part with the opinions of the

present day among the Ottawwaws. Of Cau-tan-to-wit, “the great south-west

god,” we hear nothing. Ning-gah-be-an-nong Manito, the western god, the

younger brother of Na-na-bon-jou, the god of the country of the dead,

has taken his place. In his Saw-waw-nand, we recognize the Shaw-wun-noug

Manito, the southern god of the Ottawwaws. But all these, Waw-bun-ong

Manito, the god of the morning, or of the east, Ke-way-tin-ong Manito,

the god of the north, with Ka-no-waw-bum-min-uk, “he that sees us,” whose

place is in the sun, are inferior in power to many others; even to the

Ke-zhe-ko-we-nin-ne-wug, the sky people; a race of small, but benevolent

and watchful beings, who are ever ready to do good to mankind.

CHAPTER II.

COMPARISON OF NUMERALS, TO TEN, IN SEVERAL AMERICAN DIALECTS.

1. Oto—From Say.

Yon-ka

No-wa

Tah-ne

To-wa

Sah-tah

Sha-gua

Shah-a-muh

Kra-rah-ba-na

Shan-ka

Kra-ba-nuh

2. Konza.

Meakh-che

Nom-pah

Yah-ber-re

To-pah

Sha-tah

Shahp-peh

Pa-om-bah

Pa-yah-ber-re

Shank-kuh

Ker-ab-bu-rah

3. Omawhaw.

Meach-che

Nom-bah

Ra-bene

To-bah

Sah-tah

Shap-pa

Pa-noom-ba

Pa-rah-bene

Shoon-kah

Kra-ba-rah

4. Yauktong.

Wan-chah

No-pah

Yah-me-ne

To-pah

Zah-pe-tah

Shah-kah-pe

Shah-ko-e

Sha-kun-do-ah

Nuh-pet-che-wun-bah

Week-che-min-nuh

5. Dahkotah—Of Upper Mississippi.

Wau-zhe-tah

No-a-pah

Yah-min-ne

To-a-pah

Zah-pe-tah

Sha-kah-pe

Shah-koan

Shah-han-doah

Neep-chew-wun-kah

Week-chim-mah-ne

6. Minnetahse.

Le-mois-so

No-o-pah

Nah-me

To-pah

Cheh-hoh

A-cah-me

Chap-po

No-pup-pe

No-was-sap-pa

Pe-sah-gas

7. Pawnee.

As-ko

Pet-ko

Tou-wet

Shke-tiksh

She-oksh

Shek-shah-bish

Pet-ko-shek-sha-bish

Tou-wet-sha-bish

Tok-shere-wa

Tok-shere

8. Choktaw.

Chaf-fah

To-ko-lo

To-cha-nah

Osh-tah

Tath-lah-pe

Han-nah-la

Oon-to-ko-lo

Oon-to-che-nah

Chak-ah-ta

Po-ko-la

9. Ojibbeway.

Ning-gooj-waw, or Ba-zhik

Neezh-waw, or Neezh

Nis-swaw, or Nis-swe

Ne-win

Nah-nun

Ning-good-waw-swe

Neezh-zhwaw-swe

Shwaw-swe

Shong-gus-swe, or shong

Me-dos-swe, or kwaitch

10. Muskwake.

Ne kot

Neesh

Ne-on-en

Ne-kot-waus-keek

Ne-kot-wau-swa

Nee-swa

Ne-o

Neesh-waus-eek

Shaunk

Me-to-swa

11. Minsi—From Heckewelder.

Gut-ti

Nis-cha

Na-cha

Ne-wa

Na-lan

Gut-tasch

Nis-choasch

Cha-asch

No-we-li

Wim-bat

12. Algonkin—From Heckewelder.

Pe-gik

Ninch

Nis-soue

Neou

Na-sau

Nin-gon-ton-as-sou

Nin-chou-as-sou

Nis-sou-as-sou

Chan-gas-sou

Mil-las-sou

13. Delaware—From Heckewelder.