It is a mistake to suppose that hunting is pursued by the Indian merely
as a means of subsistence. It is also his favourite sport; and no English
gentleman who spends his thousands of pounds per annum on his horses and
hounds, follows the sports of the field with a keener zest, than the
wild Indian who has never beheld the face of a white man. The accounts
of Catlin, who spent much time among the wildest tribes, show, that
amusement, in its most liberal sense, is pursued by the Indians in this
way. Hunting is not drudgery to them.
The means of procuring subsistence must always form an important branch
of national economy. Writers take a superficial view of savage life,
and, seeing how scanty the articles of food are, while the demand is
necessarily urgent, have assumed that the efforts to attain them must
absorb his whole mind, and scarcely leave room for any other thought.
But, on the contrary, these are to him very subordinate objects. To
perform a round of daily labour, even though ensuring the most ample
provision for his wants, would be equally contrary to his inclination
and supposed dignity. He will not deign to follow any pursuit which does
not, at the same time, include enterprise, adventure, and excitement.
Hunting, which the higher classes in the civilized parts of the world
pursue for mere recreation, is almost the only occupation considered of
sufficient importance to engage his attention. It is peculiarly endeared
by its resemblance to war, being carried on with the same weapons,
and nearly in the same manner. In his native state, the arrow was the
favourite and almost exclusive instrument for assailing distant objects;
but now the gun has nearly superseded it. The great hunts are rendered
more animating, as well as more effectual, from being carried on in large
parties, and even by whole tribes. The men are prepared for these by
fasting, dreaming, and other superstitious observances, similar to those
which we shall find employed in anticipation of war. In such expeditions,
too, contrivance and skill, as well as boldness and enterprise, are
largely employed. Sometimes a circle is formed, when all the animals
surrounded by it are pressed closer and closer, till they are collected
in the centre, and fall under the accumulated weight of weapons. On other
occasions they are driven to the margin of a lake or river, in which,
if they attempt to seek refuge, canoes are ready to intercept them.
Elsewhere a space is enclosed by stakes, only a narrow opening being
left, which, by clamour and shouts, the game are compelled to enter, and
thereby secured. In autumn and spring, when the ice is newly formed and
slight, they are pushed upon it, and their legs breaking through, they
are easily caught. In winter, when the snow begins to fall, traps are
set, in which planks are so arranged, that the animal, in snatching at
the bait, is crushed to death. Originally the deer, both for food and
clothing, was the most valuable object of chase; but, since the trade
with Europeans has given such a prominent importance to furs, the beaver
has in some degree supplanted it. In attacking this animal, great care
is taken to prevent his escape into the water, on which his habitation
always borders; and with this view various kinds of nets and springes
are employed. On some occasions the Indians place themselves upon the
dike which encloses his amphibious village. They then make an opening in
it, when the inmates, alarmed by seeing the water flowing out, hasten
to this barrier, where they encounter their enemies, armed with all the
instruments of destruction. At other times, when ice covers the surface
of the pond, a hole is made, at which the animal comes to respire; he is
then drawn out and secured. The bear is a formidable enemy, which must
be assailed by the combined force of the hunters, who are ranged in two
rows, armed with bows or muskets. One of them advances and wounds him,
and, on being furiously pursued, he retreats between the files, followed
in the same line by the animal, which is then overwhelmed by their
united onset. In killing these quadrupeds, the natives seem to feel a
sort of kindness and sympathy for their victim. On vanquishing a beaver
or a bear, they celebrate its praises in a song, recounting those good
qualities which it will never more be able to display, yet consoling
themselves with the useful purposes to which its flesh and its skin will
be applied.
Of the animals usually tamed and rendered subservient to useful purposes,
the Indians have only the dog, that faithful friend of man. Though
his services in hunting are valuable, he is treated with but little
tenderness, and is left to roam about the dwelling, very sparingly
supplied with food and shelter. A missionary, who resided in a Huron
village, represents his life as having been rendered miserable by these
animals. At night they laid themselves on his person for the benefit of
the warmth; and, whenever his scanty meal was set down, their snouts were
always first in the dish. Dog’s flesh is eaten, and has even a peculiar
sanctity attached to it. On all solemn festivals it is the principal
meat, the use of which, on such occasions, seems to import some high and
mysterious meaning.
But, besides the cheering avocations of the chase, other means must be
used to ensure the comfort and subsistence of the Indian’s family; all
of which, however, are most ungenerously devolved upon the weaker sex.
Women, according to Creuxius, serve them as domestics, as tailors, as
peasants, and as oxen; and Long does not conceive that any other purposes
of their existence are recognized, except those of bearing children
and performing hard work. They till the ground, carry wood and water,
build huts, make canoes, and fish; in which latter processes, however,
and in reaping the harvest, their lords deign to give occasional aid.
So habituated are they to such occupations, that when one of them saw a
party of English soldiers collecting wood, she exclaimed that it was a
shame to see men doing women’s work, and began herself to carry a load.
Through the services of this enslaved portion of the tribe, those savages
are enabled to combine in a certain degree the agricultural with the
hunting state, without any mixture of the pastoral, usually considered
as intermediate. Cultivation, however, is limited to small spots in
the immediate vicinity of the villages, and these being usually at the
distance of sixteen or seventeen miles from each other, it scarcely
makes any impression on the immense expanse of forest. The women, in the
beginning of summer, after having burned the stubble of the preceding
crop, rudely stir the ground with a long, crooked piece of wood; they
then throw in the grain, which is chiefly the coarse but productive
species of maize peculiar to the Continent. The nations in the south
have a considerable variety of fruits; whereas those of Canada appear
to have raised only turnsols, watermelons, and pompions. Tobacco used
to be grown largely; but that produced by the European settlers is now
universally preferred, and has become a regular object of trade. The
grain, after harvest (which is celebrated by a festival), is lodged in
large subterraneous stores lined with bark, where it keeps extremely
well. Previous to being placed in these, it is sometimes thrashed; on
other occasions merely the ears are cut off, and thrown in. When first
discovered by settlers from Europe, the degrees of culture were found
to vary in different tribes. The Algonquins, who were the ruling people
previous to the arrival of the French, wholly despised it, and branded
as plebeian their neighbours, by whom it was practised. In general, the
northern clans, and those near the mouth of the St. Lawrence, depended
almost solely on hunting and fishing; and when these failed they were
reduced to dreadful extremities, being often obliged to depend on the
miserable resource of that species of lichen called _tripe de roche_.
The maize, when thrashed, is occasionally toasted on the coals, and
sometimes made into a coarse kind of unleavened cake. But the most
favourite preparation is that called _sagamity_, a species of pap formed
after it has been roasted, bruised, and separated from the husk. It is
insipid by itself; yet when thrown into the pot, along with the produce
of the chase, it enriches the soup or stew, one of the principal dishes
at their feasts. They never eat victuals raw, but rather overboiled; nor
have they yet been brought to endure French ragouts, salt, pepper, or,
indeed, any species of condiment. A chief, admitted to the governor’s
table, seeing the general use of mustard, was led by curiosity to take
a spoonful and put it into his mouth. On feeling its violent effects, he
made incredible efforts to conceal them, and escape the ridicule of the
company; but severe sneezings, and the tears starting from his eyes, soon
betrayed him, and raised a general laugh. He was then shown the manner in
which it should be used; but nothing could ever induce him to allow the
“boiling yellow,” as he termed it, to enter his lips.
The Indians are capable of extraordinary abstinence from food, in which
they can persevere for successive days without complaint or apparent
suffering. They even take a pride in long fasts, by which they usually
prepare themselves for any great undertaking. Yet, when once set down to
a feast, their gluttony is described as enormous, and the capacity of
their stomachs almost incredible. They will go from feast to feast, doing
honour to each in succession. The chief giving the entertainment does not
partake, but with his own hands distributes portions among the guests.
On solemn occasions, it is a rule that everything shall be eaten; nor
does this obligation seem to be felt as either burdensome or unpleasant.
In their native state, they were not acquainted with any species of
intoxicating liquors; their love of ardent spirits, attended with so many
ruinous effects, having been entirely consequent on their intercourse
with Europeans.