KETTLE POINT.
Besides the four hundred Indians on the Sarnia Reserve, there were
about one hundred more living at Kettle Point, thirty miles distant, on
the eastern shore of Lake Huron. I had not been long settled at Sarnia,
when, in company with my interpreter. I started on a first visit to
these people. I will describe the journey.
Taking the railway as far as Forest, we had to walk on a distance of
eight or nine miles. Neither of us knew the country, but a couple of
Indians, whom we happened to fall in with, showed us the way.
It was nearly two o'clock when we reached David Sahpah's house. We
found the Indians most hospitable; some of them were Methodists, some
still pagans, and others members of the Church. They were most desirous
of having a Church Mission established among them, as there was no
school for their children and no regular services held. Not a single
individual, man, woman, or child, could read or write. They were very
anxious to have a school-house built and a schoolmaster sent to teach
them, indeed some of them had already got out logs with the view of
building a school. The Chief's name was Ahbettuhwahnuhgund (Half a
Cloud), a fine, broad-shouldered, intelligent-looking man, but still a
pagan, although he had had several of his children baptized in the
Church. There was also a large family named Shaukeens, all of whom were
pagans, and several others. They seemed, however, to have advanced more
in their farming operations than the Sarnia Indians. The Chief had a
capital house with several rooms in it, an orchard full of apples and
cherries, and well-cultivated fields. In the evening we had service at
David Sahpah's house, and then I spoke to the Indians and proposed that
we should at once commence a fortnightly school among them, myself and
my interpreter taking it alternately. There was an empty log-house
which they said we could use, and they all seemed pleased at the
proposal, and said that they would send their children to be taught.
We had to start at 3.30 a.m. next morning to catch the early train for
Sarnia. It was a clear starlight night when we emerged from the
hospitable shelter of an Indian's log-house and started on our
pilgrimage through the bush. There was no moon, and we had some
difficulty in groping our way. Wagimah went first, and slowly and
cautiously we proceeded, carrying our wraps and satchels with us.
However, with all our care, we had soon lost our way, and found
ourselves stumbling along over a potato patch, without having the least
idea where we were. For nearly an hour we were wandering about, when at
length we came once more upon a beaten track; but whether it was the
right one or not we could not tell. However we followed it, and almost
before we were aware we found ourselves out of the bush and standing on
a broad clay road, and at length we arrived at Forest Station in good
time for the cars to Sarnia.
After this we visited Kettle Point every fortnight, and many were the
amusing incidents connected with those trips. Sometimes I drove the
whole distance in my own trap, at other times took train to Forest or
Widder, and some of the Indians would meet me with a waggon or sleigh,
as the case might be, at the Station. It was on the 9th of September
that we commenced our school in the vacant log-house. We began with A,
B, C, as no one yet knew anything. There were eleven children and five
adults present. I was amused in the evening to see a game of draughts
going on, on a log outside the Chief's house; the draught-board was a
flat part of the log with squares carved out on its surface, the black
men were squares of pumpkin rind with green side up, the white men the
same with the green side down. That night we slept at Adam Sahpah's
house.
Our sleeping places on these Kettle Point expeditions were various. One
bitterly cold night in the late autumn, I remember, passing in a little
boarded shanty used as a workshop. We were nearly perished in the morning,
and were glad to get inside David Sahpah's comfortable log-house; a huge
fire was blazing on the hearth, and the Indian women all busy, some with
their pots and frying-pans, boiling potatoes and baking cakes, others
dressing and cleaning the children. Mrs. Ahbettuhwahnuhgund gave me a
chair, and down I sat by the blazing fire and gazed with a feeling of
happy contentment into the yellow flames. The scene was certainly a novel
one. In a dark corner by the chimney sat a dirty old couple on the couch
where they had been passing the night; they were visitors from Muncey
Town, and were staying a few nights only at Kettle Point. The old woman
lighted up her pipe, and whiffed away with her eyes half shut; after
enjoying it for about twenty minutes or so, her old husband thought she
had had enough, and taking it from her put it in his own mouth and had his
whiff. When he had done, he restored it again to his wife. Underneath
another old bedstead were a couple of large dogs, which occasionally let
their voices be heard in a dispute; some of the stones on one side of the
fire-place had broken away, making a little window through which the dogs
could reach the fire, and it was amusing to see how they put their noses
and paws through the opening and warmed themselves just like human beings.
Down in another corner sat an antiquated old woman enveloped in a blanket,
and in vain endeavouring to comfort a little fat boy of about ten months
who was crying, as only children know how to cry, for his mother. Finding
that she could not content the baby, she at length got up, and taking off
her blanket, put one end of it round the baby's shoulders, tucked the ends
under its arms, and then with one sweep placed baby and blanket together
on her back, and with one or two pulls once more got the blanket wrapped
completely round her, and the little fat boy snugly ensconced between her
shoulders; then she marched off to give him an airing. The bigger children
were set to clean themselves, a tin bowl of water and a towel being given
them in turns. I was wondering whether my turn would come, when Mrs.
Ahbettuhwahnuhgund, having once more filled the bowl, addressed me with
the words, "Maund'uhpe," which in polite English would mean, "Here you
are!" "Ah, meegwach, ahpecte"--"thank you kindly"--said I, and forthwith
began my ablutions, while the children stood around me in wonderment.
One night I slept with a pig. It was a vacant room in the Chief's new
house. After our services were over and we had had supper, Mrs.
Ahbettuhwahnuhgund took a clean blanket on her shoulder and a lantern
in her hand, and calling me to follow led me to the apartment. There
was a bedstead with a mattress on it in a corner, and on two chairs in
the middle of the room lay a pig which had been killed the day before.
Early next morning, before I was fully awake, the door opened, and Mrs.
Ahbettuhwahnuhgund appeared with a knife in her hand. What could she
want at this hour in the morning? I opened one eye to see. Her back was
turned to me, and I could not distinguish what she was doing, but I
heard a slicing and cutting and wheezing. Then the good lady turned
round, and closing the eye I had opened I did not venture to look out
again till the door was shut, and Mrs. Ahbettuhwahnuhgund departed;
then I peeped out from my rug--poor piggy was minus one leg! Next time
I saw the missing limb it was steaming on the breakfast table!
I must not make this chapter longer. By-and-bye I shall tell of the
baptism of the Chief and several other of the pagan Indians of this
place. Suffice it to say now that our little school kept nicely
together, and services were held either by myself or my interpreter
every fortnight. In a little more than a year's time we had the
satisfaction of seeing both a school-church and a master's residence
erected, and a catechist placed in charge of the station.