A CHIEF COME TO LIFE
When the Miamis had assembled in and about the open lodge of the chief,
La Salle had one of the New England Indians bring into the council the
presents which he wished to give. Then he chose first from the pile a
roll of tobacco, and presenting it to the Miamis said:—
“May this tobacco, as you smoke it in your pipes, clear the mists from
your minds, that you may think without confusion.
“And this,” he said, laying down a piece of blue cloth, “is to cover the
bodies of your relatives just killed by the Iroquois. May it turn your
eyes from their dead forms to the peaceful blue sky where the sun shines
so brightly.
“And here is a piece of red cloth to cover the earth so that you may see
no longer the blood of your brethren. Its color is like that with which
you paint your faces for a feast, and will mean to you that hereafter
you will always live in pleasure and joy.
“Here are cloaks to cover the bodies of the loved ones you have lost.
May they be a mark of our esteem and friendship. And take these fifty
hatchets to help you raise a magnificent tomb in their memory. And those
who have no beautiful ornaments to wear in the feast which you will give
to those who are gone—let them wear these necklaces and bracelets, these
rings and glass beads and little bells, and let them paint themselves
with this paint.”
Then he drew forth thirty sword blades and, stooping over, he planted
them in a circle in the dirt floor of the lodge, around and inclosing
the presents he had given.
“And so,” he said, “will I make a palisade of iron about you so that the
bodies of your dead friends may receive no harm.”
He straightened himself beside the circle of iron, and while the Miamis
within the lodge and outside watched him he continued:—
“Your dead friends must be contented now. We have paid them our
reverence. They will only ask further that we let them lie in peace;
that we wipe away our tears and take care of the loved ones who step
into their places. But I wish to do more than this.
“I know how sadly you have mourned for Ouabicolcata, your great chief
who is dead. Think of him no longer as dead. His spirit and his soul
have come to life once more in my body. I will raise his name among you.
I am another Ouabicolcata, and I will take the same good care of his
family as he did while he lived. No more am I Okimao as you used to call
me. Henceforth my name is Ouabicolcata. Your chief lives again in the
body of a Frenchman who is able to give you all the things which you
need.”
Seldom do Indians in council interrupt a speaker, but as the white
leader promised to take up the name and life of their dead chief the
whole gathering broke into cries of rejoicing and praise. When a son was
lost from an Indian family the sorrowing parents often adopted in his
place a captive from another nation. So now it did not seem strange that
in place of their lamented chief they should take to their hearts and
homes this white chief, and call him by the old name Ouabicolcata, and
love him as they loved the man who was dead.
La Salle’s men now brought three immense kettles. “In these,” said the
white chief, “you will make a great feast for the dead come to life.”
Then to his newly found relatives he presented shirts and cloaks, a box
of knives and hatchets, and many other wonderful things saying: “See how
I will give to my people the things they need.”
“And now, my brothers,” said La Salle, “we come to a matter of much
consequence”—and he presented the Miamis with six guns. “There is a
great master across the sea. He is famous everywhere. He loves peace. He
is strong to help us, but he wants us to listen to his words. He is
called the King of France, the greatest chief of all those who rule on
the other shore. He is anxious that peace shall come upon all people and
that no one shall wage war without asking permission of his servant
Onontio, the governor at Quebec. Therefore, be at peace with your
neighbors and most of all with the Illinois. You have had your quarrels
with them. But have you not been enough avenged by their losses? They
want peace with you, yet they are still strong enough to do you harm.
Content yourselves with the glory of having them ask for peace. And
their interest is yours. If they are destroyed, will not the Iroquois
destroy you the more easily? So take these guns, but use them not for
waging war, but for the hunt and for self-defense.”
Then at last La Salle chose from his bundles two wampum necklaces—the
gifts most common among Indians. Turning to the thirty New England
Indians who were with him, he said: “These are other Miamis who come to
take with you the places of the warriors whom the Iroquois have killed.
Their bodies are the bodies of Indians from New England, but they have
the spirit and the heart of the Miamis. Receive them as your brothers.”
The council broke up in a tumult of joy and brotherly feeling. High
honor had been paid to the dead and splendid gifts bestowed upon the
living. On the next day the Miamis came before La Salle to dance and
present gifts. They did homage to the good spirits of the sky and the
sun and to the God of the French. Then one of their chiefs,
Ouabibichagan, presented to their new brother ten beaver skins saying:—
“Never, my brother Ouabicolcata, have we seen so wonderful an event.
Never before have we seen a dead man come to life. He must be a great
spirit who can thus bring back life. He makes the sky more fair and the
sun more bright. He has given you with life, clothes with which to cover
us who are wont to be naked.
“We are ashamed that we have not equal gifts to give you. But you,
Ouabicolcata, are a brother. You will excuse us. For it was to redeem
your bones from the Iroquois that we made ourselves poor. We gave them
three thousand beaver skins. This little gift of ten skins is but a
sign—is only like the paper which you Frenchmen give to one another—it
only means that we promise you all the beavers in the river when next
spring shall come.”
Again he gave him ten beavers and told him of the joy the Miamis would
feel as they went upon their hunts with their brother alive again, and
the spirit that gave him back his breath guarding over their happiness.
With a third gift of skins he spoke of the French king in these words:—
“We will listen to him; we will put aside our arms; we will break our
arrows, and hide our war-clubs at the bottom of the earth. The Illinois
are our brothers since they acknowledge our father, and the French king
is our father since he has given life back to our brothers.” A fourth
and a fifth gift of beaver skins he made and bound the Miamis to
Ouabicolcata and their new brothers from New England. At last he handed
the white chief for the sixth time ten beavers and said:—
“Do not count the skins, my brother, for we have none left. The Iroquois
have all the rest. But accept our hearts in trust for what we will do
when spring has come again.”
After the gifts the dancing began again and also the feasting from the
new kettles. And all day long the three wives of Ouabibichagan, sisters
to one another, and the wives of Michetonga, also sisters, danced in the
sunshine of spring and in the joy of a people reconciled to their
neighbors and happy in the pleasant childlike pretension of a lost
brother come back to live with them once more.
As the Miamis danced a band of Illinois were following swift trails
westward to the banks of the Mississippi. They had talked with the great
white chief who had left Fort Crèvecœur so long ago in the good old days
when Chassagoac was alive and when their villages smiled in the sun
along the Illinois River. They were carrying back to the Peorias and the
Kaskaskias and the Tamaroas and to all their brethren the message from
La Salle, that he was still determined to make his trip to the mouth of
the Great River, and that he had come to reunite the Miami and Illinois,
to plant his men as a guard against the Iroquois, and to snatch back for
them the beautiful valley of the Illinois.