_Their Method of reckoning_ TIME, _&c._
CONSIDERING their ignorance of astronomy, time is very rationally
divided by the Indians. Those in the interior parts (and of those I
would generally be understood to speak) count their years by winters;
or, as they express themselves, by snows.
Some nations among them reckon their years by moons, and make them
consist of twelve synodical or lunar months, observing, when thirty
moons have waned, to add a supernumerary one, which they term the lost
moon; and then begin to count as before. They pay a great regard to the
first appearance of every moon, and on the occasion always repeat some
joyful sounds, stretching at the same time their hands towards it.
Every month has with them a name expressive of its season; for instance,
they call the month of March (in which their year generally begins at
the first New Moon after the vernal Equinox) the Worm Month or Moon;
because at this time the worms quit their retreats in the bark of the
trees, wood, &c. where they have sheltered themselves during the winter.
The month of April is termed by them the month of Plants. May, the Month
of Flowers. June, the Hot Moon. July, the Buck Moon. Their reason for
thus denominating these is obvious.
August, the Sturgeon Moon; because in this month they catch great
numbers of that fish.
September, the Corn Moon; because in that month they gather in their
Indian Corn.
October, the Travelling Moon; as they leave at this time their villages,
and travel towards the places where they intend to hunt during the
winter.
November, the Beaver Moon; for in this month the beavers begin to take
shelter in their houses, having laid up a sufficient store of provisions
for the winter season.
December, the Hunting Moon, because they employ this month in pursuit of
their game.
January, the Cold Moon, as it generally freezes harder, and the cold is
more intense in this than in any other month.
February they call the Snow Moon, because more snow commonly falls
during this month, than any other in the winter.
When the moon does not shine they say the moon is dead; and some call
the three last days of it the naked days. The moon’s first appearance
they term its coming to life again.
They make no division of weeks; but days they count by sleeps; half days
by pointing to the sun at noon; and quarters by the rising and the
setting of the sun: to express which in their traditions they make use
of very significant hieroglyphicks.
The Indians are totally unskilled in geography as well as all the other
sciences, and yet, as I have before hinted, they draw on their birch
bark very exact charts or maps of the countries with which they are
acquainted. The latitude and longitude is only wanting to make them
tolerably complete.
Their sole knowledge in astronomy consists in being able to point out
the pole-star; by which they regulate their course when they travel in
the night.
They reckon the distance of places, not by miles or leagues, but by a
day’s journey, which, according to the best calculations I could make,
appears to be about twenty English miles. These they also divide into
halves and quarters, and will demonstrate them in their maps with great
exactness, by the hieroglyphicks just mentioned, when they regulate in
council their war parties, or their most distant hunting excursions.
They have no idea of arithmetic; and though they are able to count to
any number, figures as well as letters appear mysterious to them, and
above their comprehension.
During my abode with the Naudowessies, some of the chiefs observing one
day a draft of an eclipse of the moon, in a book of astronomy which I
held in my hand, they desired I would permit them to look at it.
Happening to give them the book shut, they began to count the leaves
till they came to the place in which the plate was. After they had
viewed it, and asked many questions relative to it, I told them they
needed not to have taken so much pains to find the leaf on which it was
drawn, for I could not only tell in an instant the place, without
counting the leaves, but also how many preceded it.
They seemed greatly amazed at my assertion, and begged that I would
demonstrate to them the possibility of doing it. To this purpose I
desired the chief that held the book, to open it at any particular
place, and just shewing me the page carefully to conceal the edges of
the leaves, so that I might not be able to count them.
This he did with the greatest caution; notwithstanding which, by looking
at the folio, I told him, to his great surprize, the number of leaves.
He counted them regularly over, and discovered that I was exact. And
when, after repeated trials, the Indians found I could do it with great
readiness, and without ever erring in my calculation, they all seemed as
much astonished as if I had raised the dead. The only way they could
account for my knowledge, was by concluding that the book was a spirit,
and whispered me answers to whatever I demanded of it.
This circumstance, trifling as it might appear to those who are less
illiterate, contributed to increase my consequence, and to augment the
favourable opinion they already entertained of me.