prairie, covered with sweet grasses, where the rest of our kind fed
quietly, or, scenting danger, galloped wildly from place to place."
"Pawnee, we were bison, then (Puk-wah-chee-m'-tho-tho), belonging to the
same herd and following the same leader. Let us go back to our people
and tell them we were brothers in the other world."
They separated, and the war chiefs, understanding well, looked upward,
in reverence to the Great Being who had transformed them all in the time
long ago, then returned in silence to their villages.
Many Shawnees and Pottawatomies claim that they are of the lost tribes
of Israel. Certain customs that have descended to them from time
immemorial, seem to bear out this theory. Their Holy of Holies
corresponds to the Ark of the Covenant, of the Israelites. Its contents
were known only to its possessor, and, under penalty of death, all
others, except the medicine men, were forbidden to touch the sacred
relic, which was wrapped and re-wrapped with bark until it became a
good-sized bundle.
The Shawnee language is a dialect of the Algonquin, which possesses all
the vowel sounds. The letters f, r, and v are wanting. X is also wanting
in all Algonquin languages except the Delaware and Mohican. There is a
strong affinity between the Shawnee and the Mohican dialects. Verbs are
full and varied in their inflections. The meanings of whole words are
concentrated upon a few syllables or upon a single letter. The prefix
tah, indicates futurity. Everything is considered as divided into two
classes--animate and inanimate. Terminations change accordingly.
Divested of their appendages, words become monosyllables. The syllable
e-bun is added to the name of one deceased. This is equivalent to the
words "has been" and is a delicate way of indicating a person's demise.
For instance, Tecumseh, after death, becomes Tecumseh-e-bun or "Has Been
Tecumseh."
A wealthy trader who married the descendant of a French officer
stationed in Canada during Colonial days and the daughter of a chief of
the Chippewas, passed through many strange experiences while sojourning
among the Shawnees.
One moonlight night, riding from Westport, now a part of Kansas City, to
Uniontown, on the present site of Valencia, he left the beaten road and
took a short cut for home over a seldom used Indian trail. A ghostly
stillness prevailed, which was broken, ere he had proceeded far, by a
series of blood-curdling groans, sometimes clear and distinct, sometimes
like the rushing of the wind, but always seeming to follow in his wake.
Drawing a revolver and wheeling to confront the enemy, he found only
empty air--while the pale moon still shone serenely down upon the
unbroken prairie. Again the terrible sounds became audible; and the
horse was urged to its highest rate of speed without avail. A sensation
of horror creeping over him, the pioneer turned into a path leading to
an Indian hut--the noise sweeping by like the breath of a cyclone--and
inquired the cause. His host, well versed in explanations of the
medicine men, replied:
"Had you remained upon that trail, the route of a rambling night spirit,
you would have surely died before the break of day."
Doubtless these interpretations often served to cover murderous designs.
On another occasion he was urged by a friendly Indian, a member of a
secret society, not to undertake his usual journey, as, at a gulley
south of Martin's Hill, danger lay in wait. True enough, at that place a
large gray wolf sprang out and made a fierce lunge, inflicting deep
wounds upon the horse. The traveler fired but missed the animal. Again
and again the ferocious creature jumped at him, each time failing to
reach the man and burying its teeth in the horse. After a furious
conflict, in which the rider succeeded in beating back the wolf with the
butt of his pistol, he urged forward the wounded steed and was enabled
to outrun his wild adversary.
A Shawnee, descended from the principal characters described, is
authority for the following story, of
MAUNE', THE CHIPPEWA GIRL.
Near the city of Quebec, so long ago as the time of the French and
Indian War, lived a dark-eyed girl of the Chippewa tribe, in whose sweet
face bloomed a dusky beauty that distinguished her from other maidens of
the nation and caused her to become an object of admiration to the
gallant young officers who were struggling to maintain the supremacy of
France. Had it not been for the brilliant victory of General Wolfe, and
the noble sacrifices of the British and Colonial troops, there were no
sad story to record, for with the advent of England came an exodus of
the French soldiery from the Dominion, and crushing sorrow to Maune',
whose heart had been captured by the handsomest officer in the vicinity
of their village.
She was the daughter of a great chief, renowned among his people for
deeds of bravery in war, therefore, it had occasioned small surprise
when the noble Colonel Beauchamie selected _la petite_ Maune' as his
Indian bride. In time, two fine boys brought new sunshine into the rude
quarters which, in those primitive days, served as home, though to the
young mother, the rich furs and blankets and pretty trinkets with which
she was endowed, seemed the very acme of luxury.
Life was full of sweet contentment, until, one clear, cold morning, the
French looked out in astonishment upon the army of General Wolfe, drawn
up in battle array. How it had ascended the steep cliffs was a mystery
to those within the walls.
General Montcalm, resting his faith in superior numbers, risked a battle
outside the fortifications. The heroism and patriotism of the opposing
generals, their glorious death, the celebrated victory of the English
with its important results, and the final expulsion of the French from
that portion of the New World, are all matters of history.
Colonel Beauchamie was ordered back to France with his regiment. The
question now obtruded itself, "What should be done with Maune'?" He
could not present an Indian wife to friends at home, neither was he
willing to leave his sons in Canada. After prolonged consultation with a
few brother officers, it was quietly arranged that the children should
be spirited away and placed on board a ship destined to transport the
soldiers back to their native land; and the devoted woman was to be
deserted.
Maune', suspecting these designs, crept quietly behind the partition
that screened the officers from view, and listened to the development of
the plan. Her affectionate heart sank as she became aware of her
husband's perfidy. Love, grief and determination followed in rapid
succession. Sadly she stole away and prepared for flight. A canoe was
stored with provisions and the sleeping children placed inside; then,
with mingled feelings of affection and the hatred and resolution
peculiar to her race, she bade farewell to home, happiness, country, all
that made life dear, except the slumbering babes. For their sakes she
would struggle through the wilderness to a more favored land. Where, she
knew not. The Great Spirit would guide and protect her; and the blood of
fierce warriors, which flowed in the veins of this child of Nature, gave
strength and courage in the hour of need.
Up the river she proceeded, keeping close to shore; when at a safe
distance from pursuit, landing for rest and for the purpose of adding to
their scant amount of provisions. From the river into the lakes, slowly,
cautiously, Maune' made her way, passing through untold hardships,
always caring tenderly for the dependent little ones. Cold, hunger, wild
beasts and the fierce storms of the Northern lakes were alike
disregarded; and at last, long after English rule had been firmly
established in Canada, and Quebec and Montreal converted into British
headquarters; after the cruel conquerors had banished the simple
Acadians from their land--Maune', weak, emaciated and fainting with
starvation, was found by a wandering party of Shawnees, upon the
Illinois shore.
By almost superhuman efforts, the heroic woman had preserved her
children; and the hardships of the journey had produced no serious
effects upon their sturdy constitutions. Adopted into the tribe, she
found a habitation with the friendly Shawnees.
Though the image of her pale-faced husband was never erased entirely
from the heart of the faithful Chippewa, and a lingering sadness and
silence kept her in partial isolation, she lived many years in quiet and
saw her sons, as they grew to manhood, regarded as the boldest and most
successful of the tribe, in times of peace and war.
Advancing age brought with it the suspicion of witchcraft. Maune' was of
a strange nation; and her adherence to unknown customs aroused fear in
the breasts of the ignorant Shawnees. Finally, the leading medicine man
decreed that she must die. Her sons were powerless to resist the tide of
superstition.
A bundle of sticks was produced, and the unfortunate creature tied to a
stake. Then the horrible torture commenced. Frantic Indians, chanting
their weird melodies, danced round the fire, as it slowly consumed the
ill-fated Chippewa. Not a sound of terror or of anguish escaped the
woman in this moment of exquisite suffering. At last, a merciful breath
of flame severed the thread of life, and all that remained of the bright
little maiden, who had been the idol of her brave Canadian people, was a
disfigured mass of charred flesh and bones.
Surely the Great Spirit whom she worshipped, and the tender Mother of
Christ, whom the Jesuits had taught her to implore, looked down in
pitying love, and recompensed, in the Spirit Land, this child of
misfortune--Maune' _la miserable_.
Tragedies were every-day occurrences among the natives, in those days,
and there were times when fanaticism swept all before it; but that the
great men of the Indians were not unworthy of the admiration and
respect of their enemies, is shown in
A FRAGMENT OF HISTORY FROM THE WAR OF THE RACES.
On a picturesque cliff overlooking the Mad River, in what is now the
State of Ohio, was located, more than a century ago, the Indian village
of the Piqua Shawnees.
The settlement was prosperous and fully two hundred acres of land were
in cultivation. A log fort, surrounded with pickets, had been built, and
the Shawnees were prepared for defense in the event of an attempt to
capture the town.
This beautiful spot was the birth-place of the famous Tecumseh--Shooting
Star--the most illustrious Indian that ever battled for the rights of
his people. Eloquent, powerful in mind and body, and possessing the soul
of a hero, the patriotic chief was, at the opening of the nineteenth
century, deep in plans for the advancement of his race. Is it a
matter of surprise that he should oppose, with ceaseless energy, the
encroachment of the white man? That his talents should be unsparingly
used in the hopeless endeavor to stay the westward progress of
civilization? He had seen the red man repeatedly deprived of land, under
almost compulsory treaties with the Government. His independent spirit
rebelled against the authority of the pale-face; and the circumstances
of his father's death, during the troublous times when the celebrated
Cornstalk waged war, had made a lasting impression.
[Illustration: TECUMSEH.]
The far-seeing leader realized that without a combined effort on the
part of the natives, extinction was certain. Fired with determination to
break the growing power of the Long-knives (as the Americans were
called), he formed a federation of nations for the purpose of putting a
stop to emigration, claiming that their possessions were common property
and could not be transferred without the consent of all.
He incited the Indians to hostilities, going from one part of the
country to another, accompanied by two warriors of exceptional bravery.
Sa-wa-co-ta (Yellow Cloud) and Wa-se-go-bo-ah (Stand Firm) were the sons
of a Chippewa mother. Their father, a French officer, had gone back to
his own land at the close of the French and Indian War. Prior to his
departure, the unfortunate wife, learning of the proposed desertion, and
discovering that her children were to be placed on board the ship which
would soon sail across the seas, fled with the babes and found a refuge
among the Shawnees, where the boys grew to manhood. Tall, straight and
commanding, with all the intensity of the Latin races, and the wildness
and stoicism of the aborigines, they were well fitted for positions of
trust under Tecumseh.
Indian traits predominated in Sa-wa-co-ta, the older of the brothers.
His dark complexion, high cheek bones and flashing eyes bespoke, to a
marked degree, a savage lineage; while the open countenance of
Wa-se-go-bo-ah showed a stronger tendency toward the father's kindred.
From early childhood, there had been in his manner, a refinement and
superiority that denoted a long line of cultured ancestors from the
nobility of France. Here, even in the wilds of America, was that
distinction observed and respected by a barbarous people.
Young and old alike listened with quiet approval when the lips of
Wa-se-go-bo-ah opened to give advice, and the sister of Tecumseh,
Tecumapease, heard with trembling joy the words his eyes had long since
spoken, and betrothal followed. But there was one of dark and evil face
and strange demeanor, the older brother of Tecumapease, who gazed with
hatred on her future lord, and would, if possible, prevent the nuptials.
The prophet, Elkswatawa (Loud Voice), fearing the influence of the
warrior Stand Firm might exceed his own, opposed the union.
Tecumseh, having returned from a pilgrimage to a distant tribe, was
seated in his cabin, awaiting the coming of the prophet. He regarded
with contempt the luxuries of life, and when at home in the new Piqua
village, resided in a log hut chinked with mud. The ancient town had
been destroyed by white soldiers, and its namesake founded near the
Great Miami River. A nose ring with three silver crosses, and a few
stripes of brilliant paint gave a look of ferocity to the bright
intelligent face of the chief; and a medallion of George the Third, on a
wampum string, hung around his neck. Buckskin leggings, moccasins
decorated with porcupine quills, a deerskin jacket and a blue
breech-cloth completed the odd uniform.
Elkswatawa entered, clad in garments made from the skins of wild
animals. In addition to these, a kind of turban surmounted with bunches
of feathers, a nose ring, large earrings, hideously painted cheeks, and
a sightless eye, the other gleaming with malignant fire, were well
calculated to inspire terror. The man was an object of superstitious awe
to the Northwestern Indians.
In vain he sought to change the mind of him who had decided to bestow
Tecumapease upon the most beloved of all the braves. The wily Prophet
appealed without effect to that innate love of power, strong in persons
that are born to rule. The Shooting Star looked deep beneath the
surface, and discerned, within the heart of Loud Voice, envy and
unfounded dread of the growing popularity of Wa-se-go-bo-ah.
The Prophet left in anger; and collecting a few followers, betook
himself to a new locality, the present site of Greenville, where he
established a town.
Attracted by stories of wonderful deeds, savages from different
directions flocked to the place. It was rumored that the seer could make
pumpkins as large as wigwams come up out of the ground, and that one ear
of his corn would feed six men; that he was invulnerable, and had all
knowledge of the present, past and future. Many of the Shawnees
considered Elkswatawa an impostor and refused to enter into any plans
against the Government. Tecumseh frowned upon them, and spent much
time, when not upon his travels, at the Prophet's town.
General Harrison, Governor of the Territory of Indiana, became alarmed
and sent a letter to the brothers, inviting them to Vincennes, for the
purpose of making known their grievances. To the intense fright of the
inhabitants, they responded with an escort of four hundred fully armed
warriors. At the appointed hour, on the morning of the Twelfth of
August, 1808, Tecumseh advanced, with thirty chosen men, to the place of
meeting in front of the Governor's residence. By his side were Stand
Firm, now the husband of Tecumapease, and Yellow Cloud. An aid-de-camp
pointed to a seat by General Harrison, and addressing the chief, said:
"Your father requests you to take a seat."
Drawing his blanket more closely around him, Tecumseh replied:
"The Sun is my father and the Earth is my mother; on her bosom will I
repose"; and flung himself upon the ground.
His speech at the council has gone down in history as one of the most
remarkable on record, for native oratory. A spirited answer, with a
refusal to return the lands in question, aroused the braves, who, at a
signal, seized their war clubs. Tomahawks were brandished in a
threatening way. Bloodshed was averted only by the coolness and tact of
the Governor.
In the confusion which resulted, Wa-se-go-bo-ah fell heavily forward,
stricken down, supposedly, by a white foe. The unconscious man was borne
to the Indian camp. As no wound could be discovered on first
examination, the Americans were accused of employing supernatural power.
Then a small bruise was found at the base of the brain, similar to one
produced by a missile. Gradually the favorite of the people recovered;
and as he lay upon the grass, enveloped in a thick blanket, he turned,
and suddenly beheld a terrible figure, with horns and one fierce
gleaming eye, burning like a coal of fire, creep stealthily toward him.
Its hand was raised to strike, and in the claw-like fingers was clutched
a glittering knife. Frozen with horror, he remained for a moment
immovable, then, quick as thought, rolled under the arm of the crouching
demon--evading the blade almost by miracle--and struck against its
breast. A desperate struggle ensued, in which Stand Firm secured
possession of the weapon. Holding it aloft, he caught at the throat of
the hairy-faced monster and the mask came off, disclosing the features
of the Prophet.
"Elkswatawa, N-tha-thah (my brother), why do you seek my life? Go, for
the sake of her whose eyes are as the stars of heaven, unharmed. Their
light shall guide me into paths of peace. Her love shall teach me to
forgive your murderous wrath."
The creature slunk away; and the noble conqueror dreamed that night of
the little Piqua village, where Tecumapease, with trustful heart,
besought the great Master of Life to preserve him, who, even while she
prayed, escaped the grasp of death. But the Mighty Being who controls
the destiny of humanity, from the highest even to the lowest, punished
the treacherous seer, when, on the sixth of November, 1811, the Indians,
in direct violation of a truce, advanced upon the United States troops
under General Harrison, encamped within a mile of the Prophet's Town.
The Magic Bowl, the Sacred Torch and the Holy String of Beans were
touched, and the savages, believing themselves invulnerable, rushed upon
the tents of the Americans at four o'clock in the morning. Tecumseh was
absent upon a visit to the Creeks, Choctaws and Chickasaws. The cowardly
Prophet stood, at a safe distance from the battle-ground, going through
religious mummeries and singing a war song.
Complete victory established the fame of General Harrison; and the
Battle of Tippecanoe was one of the most important in results, of that
period. The destruction of their village scattered the tribes over a
large area. Elkswatawa took refuge with a few Wyandots on Wild Cat
Creek. Eventually, he removed to Kansas and died in Shawnee Township,
Wyandotte County. His grave has no headstone, and those interested in
the early history of the State have sought in vain for some
distinguishing mark.
The really great Tecumseh, returning to find all his schemes defeated,
became an ally of the British. Much of the trouble with the white
settlers had been occasioned through their agency. The two friends of
the rebellious chief faithfully followed his fortunes. If Fate dealt
hardly with him, they shared the danger and disappointment. If kindly,
the triumph was theirs, also.
Sa-wa-co-ta was killed at Frenchtown, by a ball intended for his
superior. The Americans, closely pursued, had sought shelter behind
houses and fences on the south side of the River Raisin. The Indians, by
a detour, had gained the woods in the rear and were protected.
Disdaining to skulk from tree to tree, the fiery warrior, with Tecumseh
and a small number of brave men, pressed boldly upon the fugitives.
Observing that their leader was singled out by the enemy, his
companions closed in around the chief to shield him, at the moment that
Yellow Cloud stepped in front, for the same purpose. The latter fell,
heart and brain penetrated by bullets. Thus nobly ended the life of
Sa-wa-co-ta, of whose achievements, even the noted chiefs, Roundhead,
Panther and Blue Jacket, might well be proud.
History has recorded the outcome of the struggle, and traced the
wanderings of those who, deprived of their inheritance and driven to
desperation, united with the foes of America.
General Proctor, discouraged by Perry's victory on Lake Erie, that
occurred some time later, fled from Malden, where he was stationed at
the time, with eight hundred soldiers and two thousand Indians. General
Harrison overtook the combined forces near the River Thames. During the
battle, Colonel Johnson and the Kentucky cavalry were ordered to charge.
Galloping forward, they broke through the lines and formed again, when
the English surrendered. Tecumseh began the conflict with fury, fighting
more fiercely than ever before. His voice could be heard above the din,
inspiring the men to make every exertion; but the day was lost. Colonel
Johnson, engaged in a hand-to-hand contest with a fine, well-built
Indian, was wounded by another, as soon as he had despatched the first.
The second assailant then sprang toward him with a tomahawk, when the
officer drew a pistol and killed his antagonist. The rest of the
savages, losing hope, gave way.
Night came on, but the heavens were dark. The Shooting Star would never
more be seen. The ringing voice was silent; and Tecumapease, his sister,
waited in vain for the return of her lord. Stand Firm, "faithful unto
death," had fallen beside the chief. Next morning, the bodies of two
warriors, with dignity of face and form, were found, not far apart, upon
the bloody field.
Tecumseh was the greatest, most magnanimous, and bravest man the red
race had ever known. Now that his brilliant oratory no longer swayed
the multitudes, organized resistance to settlement north of the Ohio
River ceased. Tecumapease, to whom had been entrusted the care of her
brother's child, died a few years later, and the boy, together with her
son, drifted, with the Shawnees, from reservation to reservation. For
many years they lived in Eastern Kansas, where the descendants of
Tecumapease still reside, and relate, with pardonable pride, the
exploits of their forefathers.
[Illustration: THE SHAWNEE PROPHET.]
The tardiness of the red race in accepting civilization, has long been a
subject of comment. Yet the barbarian should not be censured, in view of
the fact that paler-faced youth, with all the benefits accruing from
past generations of culture, have, in many instances, taken readily to
aboriginal customs. It was a part of the religion of all Indian nations
to increase their number by adoption. Frequently white children were
spirited away from home and carried from place to place, in order to
evade pursuit. Almost invariably, after a lapse of time, they not only
became reconciled to savage modes of living, but preferred them. A
notable case was that of
CHINWA, THE WHITE WARRIOR.
In the early part of the nineteenth century, before the Shawnees had
emigrated to the Valley of the Kaw, there was a famous old chief named
Black Fish, who was untiring in activity against the white settlers.
During one of the numerous periods of hostility, Chinwa, the only son of
this warrior, was killed; and the grief-stricken father said to his
braves,
"Go, go and find me a boy to replace my son."