Before the Bigknives or their fathers came to the land of the red men,
the Indians generally, and the Chippewas in particular, were in the
habit of burying many articles with the dead--if a warrior died, his
weapons of war, his spear, his war-club, and his most valued trophies;
if a hunter, his instruments of hunting were committed to the earth
with him. His beaver-trap, his clothes, even a piece of roasted meat,
and a piece of bread, were deposited with him in his grave. The scalps
he had taken from the heads of his enemies, the skins of the bears
slain by him in encounter foot to foot, were laid by his side, and,
when the earth was thrown upon his breast, the utensils of less moment
were laid upon his grave. If it was a woman who demanded the rites of
burial, various articles which had been most useful to her in life
were destined to the same service. As it was supposed that it would be
her lot in the other world to perform, for the shades of her husband
and family, the duties which she had performed for them while they
were living in this, the various domestic implements used in the cabin
were buried with her. This practice, once so universal, has been
limited, since the coming of the white men among us, to comparatively
a very few articles, such as the deceased was particularly fond of, or
expressed a desire to have deposited with his or her body. The change
I speak of was made in consequence of the following incident, which
occurred in the life of a celebrated chief of former days, who had
often led the Chippewas to victory and glory.
Gittshee Gauzinee, after an illness of only a few days, expired
suddenly in the presence of his numerous friends, by whom he was
greatly beloved, and deeply lamented. He had been an expert hunter,
and had traversed the wild forests, and threaded the mazes of the
wilderness, with a success rarely equalled. As a warrior there was
none to surpass him: he could transfix two enemies with the same
spear; his arm could bend a bow of twice the size of that bent by an
ordinary arm; and his war-whoop sounded loud as the thunder of the
moon of early corn. He was in the habit of cherishing, with deep and
studious care, the weapons of war which had given him his glory, and
among these he particularly attached great value to a fine gun which
he had purchased of the first white man that had come to the city of
the High Rock. It was with this gun that he had acquired his principal
trophies, in remembrance of which he requested that it might be buried
with him. But the importance attached to this article, which then was
rarely met with among our people, and of great value, induced his
friends to pause as to this injunction.
In the meantime, there were some who supposed that his death was not
real, but that the functions of life were merely suspended, and would
again be restored. On this account the body was not interred, but laid
aside in a separate lodge, where it was carefully watched by his
afflicted and weeping widow. It came to her mind that his spirit might
not have left the tenement of clay; and she was inspired with fresh
hopes of his restoration to life, when, upon laying her hand upon his
breast above his heart, she could perceive a feeble pulsation. After
the lapse of four days, their sanguine hopes were realised; he awoke,
as if from a deep sleep, and complained of great thirst. By the kind
attentions of his friends, and the use of certain drugs, with which
every Indian is familiar, his health began to mend rapidly, and he was
soon able to return to the hunt. When he was completely restored, he
related the following account of his death, and recovery to life.
He felt, he said, cold chills creeping over him; his respiration
became impeded; the dim and shapeless forms of things floated before
his eyes, and sounds such as he had never heard before were ringing in
his ears. He felt his breath come and go like the flashes of heat
which dance before the wind on a summer's day. At length it went out
to return no more, and he died.
After death he travelled on in the path of the dead for three days,
without meeting with any thing extraordinary. He kept the road in
which souls go to the Cheke Checkecame, and over mountains, and
through valleys, pursued his way steadily. Hunger at length visited
him, and he began to suffer much from want of food. When he came in
sight of the village of the dead, he saw immense droves of stately
deer, mooses, and other large and fat animals, browzing tamely near
his path. This only served to aggravate his craving appetite, and
excite more eagerly the feeling of hunger, because he had brought
nothing with him wherewith to kill them. The animals themselves seemed
sensible of his inability to do them harm, frolicking fearlessly
around him, now bounding away over the plain in mimic terror, now
advancing in gambols to his very feet. The deer skipped lightly along,
while the moose followed with a more clumsy step; the wild cat
suspended himself by his tail from the trees, while the bear rolled
and tumbled on the green sod. Gittshee Gauzinee now bethought himself
of the fine gun which he had left at home, and at once resolved to
return and obtain it. On his way back, he met a great concourse of
people, men, women, and children, travelling onward to the residence
of the dead. But he observed that they were all very heavily laden
with axes, kettles, guns, meat, and other things, and that each one as
they passed uttered loud complaints of the grievous burdens with which
the officious and mistaken kindness of their friends had loaded them.
Among others, he met a man bowed down by age and infirmity, wearily
journeying to the land of the dead, who stopped him to complain of the
burthen his friends had imposed upon him, and this aged man concluded
his address by offering him his gun, begging him to do so much towards
relieving him of his load. Shortly after, he met a very old woman who
offered him a kettle, and, a little further on, a young man who
offered him an axe. He saw a beautiful and slender young maiden so
heavily laden that she was compelled to rest her load against a tree,
and a warrior bending under a weight twice as great as any that had
ever yet been put on his shoulders. Gittshee Gauzinee accepted the
various presents made him, out of courtesy and good nature, for he
had determined to go back for his own gun, and other implements, and
therefore stood little in need of these: so he journeyed back.
When he came near his own lodge, he could discover nothing but a long
line of waving fire, which seemed completely to encircle it. How to
get across he could not devise, for, whenever he attempted to advance
towards those places where the blaze seemed to be expiring, it would
suddenly shoot up into brilliant cones, and pyramids of flame, and
this was repeated as often as he approached it. At last he drew back a
little, and made a desperate leap into the flames. The united effects
of the heat, the violent exertion, and the fear of being burned in the
desperate attempt, resulted in his restoration of life. He awoke from
his trance, and, though weak and exhausted, he soon recovered his
health and strength, and again made the valleys echo with his shouts
of war and the hunt.
"I will tell you," said he to his friends, one night after his
recovery, "of one practice in which our fathers have been wrong, very
wrong. It has been their custom to bury too many things with the dead.
Such burthens have been imposed upon them that their journey to the
land of the dead has been made one of extreme labour and tediousness.
They have complained to me of this, and I would now warn my brethren
against a continuance of the practice. Not only is it painful to them,
but it retards their progress in their journey. Therefore only put
such things in the grave as will not be irksome to carry. The dress
which the deceased was most fond of while living he should be clothed
in when dead. His feathers, his head dress, and his other ornaments,
are but light, and will be very agreeable to his spirit. His pipe also
will afford him amusement on the road. If he has any thing more, let
it be divided among his nearest relatives and friends, but on no
account incumber his spirit with heavy and useless articles."