There are here many Indian reserves. They are solitary places; they are
dark spots on the face of civilization. The tawny inhabitants of these
gloomy forests generally establish themselves in the most remote
situations, and render the access to them indirect and difficult.
Whenever I entered their villages, they seemed, by their manner towards
each other, to say: “This civil wretch has found out our retreat.” There
is a shyness and wildness in their aspect, no less significant than such
a declaration. No cause of wonder is it, that these persecuted beings
look with a jealous eye upon the descendants of those Europeans, who
drove their ancestors from the pleasant regions of the east. They see no
end to the avarice, the claims, or the progress of white men; and view
themselves between the horrors of civilization, and the illimitable
expanse of the Pacific ocean.
{53} Barbarous as are the Indians of North America, they possess much
greatness, and many virtues. Considering their prejudices against us,
which prejudices are incident to their education, and by no means
groundless, they evince much forbearance, and even friendship towards
us.
Near one of the Indian reserves, I met five of these children of nature.
As I had not seen one for fifteen years before, I was much interested in
their appearance. In approaching them I presented a grave but friendly
aspect. Their gravity at first exceeded mine, but they soon became
rather sociable. After some little conversation we parted, not, however,
until they had taken much notice of my “varm drase.” In the course of a
few hours, I passed what is called an Indian opening. It was an exposed
situation of many miles in extent; the weather was severe, the snow
deep, and the wind continually whirled it about the unsheltered
traveller.
Not knowing the extent of this opening, and fearing that night might
find me without fuel, or materials for a tent, I exerted myself to reach
in season, the adjoining wood. By this means I became fatigued, and very
much in want of refreshment. I had no provisions with me, and indeed no
means of carrying any. I soon perceived, in the edge of the forest, a
small log hut; but poverty resided there, and I could obtain only an ear
of corn; this, however, I found palatable and nutritious. Dyonysius[58]
did not like the fare of the public tables, under the institutions of
Lycurgus, because, as the cook said, it was not seasoned with fatigue
and hunger. Towards evening, as I was travelling through a dark wood, I
discovered what I presumed to be an Indian trail, and, for the sake of
adventure, concluded to follow it. It snowed fast, darkness was
approaching, and {54} the wilderness presented a dreary aspect. Had not
my heart been afraid of me, it would have communicated a secret alarm to
my imagination, and then I should have seen around me a thousand
ambuscades. But I had so often cried _down_ to its contemptible
obtrusiveness, that it feigned, at least, a tranquil mood.
The snow was deep, and the track exceedingly serpentine; so that I
seemed, occasionally, to be travelling back to the point at which I
commenced the adventure. It, however, finally led me over a gradual
descent into a dark plain. The first evidence which I had of there being
human habitations here, was a few sticks of recently cut wood piled
above the snow. Soon after, I heard the distant bay of dogs. At length I
came in open view of a large collection of wigwams. It was now, however,
so dark, and it snowed so fast, that I could only see obscurely the
objects which presented themselves. But upon going nearer, my attention
was arrested by the appearance of many Indians, going in their blankets,
from several of the huts to a long and low building, which I afterwards
ascertained was their council house. Thinking that I should here have a
good opportunity to see many of the Indians together, I knocked at the
door, lifted the latch, and entered. I made a slight bow, and took off
my cap. They presented me, in return, a serious and unmoved aspect, but
offered me a seat. Soon after, I thought that I perceived in them some
degree of timidity. They had, within a few days, been performing some
religious ceremonies, and were, probably, unusually superstitious. They
had been wearing masks, for the purpose of driving the evil spirit from
their village; and, perhaps, they began to think that they had not
affected their object. I endeavoured, however, to render my society
agreeable {55} to them. When I entered the council house, there were
about fifty or sixty persons there. The building was about eighty feet
long, and about twelve or fourteen wide. Across the beams overhead were
several poles, hanging from which were some traces of mouldy corn; and
on each side of the building were benches for seats. There was no floor
to the house, and at each end of it there was, upon the ground, a large
council fire. At a little distance from these, there were two parties
engaged in a war-dance. This is a custom which these Indians will not
relinquish. Some of them were naked, and many of them covered with
ornaments. They wore strings of trinkets around their ankles, the object
of which appeared to be to produce music in dancing. They also had much
jewelry in their ears and noses. In their war dances, they imitate every
part of an engagement: the onset, retreat of the enemy, pursuit, &c.
Here the young warrior acquires a martial spirit, and the love of fame;
and here too the aged veteran reminds his tribe of what he has done, and
of what his spirit tells him he could do again. During the dances, I was
much interested in the appearance of a youth, a son of a chief, whose
zeal for his nation caused him, in the feigned pursuit of the enemy, to
leap over the prescribed circle of the dance, into the fire. An old and
decrepit chief too, here evinced no less devotion to his country. His
appearance excited admiration and pity. He was emaciated by disease,
scarred in battle, and bent with the weight of years. He evinced in his
efforts the greatest energy of spirit, whilst such was his decrepitude
that he could not lift his eyes from the ground. His trinkets rattled
upon his aged limbs, and his wheezing lungs sounded in his hollow trunk.
Poor child of nature!—Heaven careth for thee!
{56} The dances commenced with the beat of an old kettle drum, and was
ended by a rap with a club upon one of the benches. At the conclusion of
each dance one of the chiefs addressed the company, and passed a piece
of tobacco as a token, which they understood much better than myself.
In the course of an hour or two after I left this scene of war, I
entered one of the huts. Many came here to see me, and seemed desirous
to know from whence I came, whither I was going, &c. A few of them could
imperfectly speak English. An old chief attracted, by his ugliness, my
particular attention. He was about sixty years of age; his skin was
coarse and shrivelled, his face was covered with scars, one of his eyes
was protuberant, bloodshot and sightless, and his hair was matted by
thick red paint, having the appearance of blood. Some of the men were
likely, the old women squalid, and the young ones uninteresting. The
children, however, were pretty.
It is said that the Indians of North America treat their wives with
coldness and neglect; but I am of a different opinion. Certain it is
that their affection towards their offspring is lively and tender.
After taking some refreshment I laid down upon deer skins, by a good
fire, and slept well. I trusted to my dogs for security. In the morning
I feasted upon venison, and conversed with several of the Indians upon a
variety of subjects, particularly upon the good will which ought to
prevail among mankind, without any reference to a difference of
complexion. The Indians were very desirous of obtaining my dogs, and
would have given me a very high price for them. I did not know but that
they might wish me out of the way, for the purpose of procuring them.
{57} The appearance of the village is interesting. It is situated upon a
plain, and contains about one hundred huts. Through the centre of the
village runs a narrow serpentine creek, which affords, in summer, an
abundance of fish. On one side of the plain is a thicket of bushes, and
on the other a pleasant rise of land. The name of the Creek is
Tonewanto, and that of the tribe Tondanwandeys.[59]
Although in some little degree civilized, with respect to arts, this
tribe are still deplorably superstitious. Once a year they sacrifice two
white dogs to their deity, after painting them, decorating them with
ribbons, and dancing around them. The sacrifice consists in burning the
dogs, and scattering their ashes to the winds. The ceremonies generally
continue fourteen days, and end in a feast.
The Tondanwandeys worship the sun, and also bury their dead in the
morning, that the deceased persons may have time before night to reach
their relations in another world. In the grave they place the clothes,
pipe, dish, spoon, &c. of the deceased, thinking that they will be
wanted in a future state. Over the graves of their friends these Indians
make a hideous howl. This tribe detest lying and stealing; and those who
are innocent of these crimes are supposed to go to their relations in a
better world, where there is a milder sky and plenty of game.—Those, on
the contrary, who are guilty of these offences, wander from place to
place, and seek their friends in vain. These are their ideas of future
rewards and punishments.
The Tondanwandeys are much troubled with the supposed existence of
witchcraft; and not long since they burned one of their women upon the
suspicion of her possessing such power.
We need not go to the Islands of the Pacific Ocean for singular manners
and customs. We find {58} them here, and it is evident that the manners
and customs of all uncivilized countries are, in many particulars, very
similar. Some of them are dictated by nature, some arise from accident,
and some are the effect of tradition.
Notwithstanding the ignorance of the Tondanwandeys, in one particular
they leave civilized men far behind them: they will not suffer any
spirituous liquors to be brought into their village. This is an instance
of policy and self-denial of which even Sparta might have been proud.
The language of these Indians appears very much like that of the savage
tribes of the North-West Coast of America. Most of their sounds are
either guttural or nasal; but principally the former. Their voice in
conversation is unpleasant; and particularly so in singing. The tones of
the women, however, are soft and agreeable.
The language of this tribe contains but a few simple words; they
therefore express new ideas by combinations of terms, connected with
such gestures, and other accompaniments of speech, as comport with the
real or fancied nature of the subject.
It is not uncommon for these Indians to travel fifty leagues from home
for the purpose of hunting. They employ the principal part of the summer
in the chase. In autumn they again engage in the business. This is their
most important season, on account of the greater relative value of furs.
During the winter they return home, laden with peltry, smoaked flesh of
various kinds, and the fat of bears. Last season they were very
successful.
In hunting, Indians are exceedingly industrious and indefatigable; but
in every other employment they are very indolent. It is probably owing
to the latter circumstance, that they suffer their women to be the
hewers of wood, and the performers of other servile work among them.
From this practice has, {59} probably, arisen the idea, that Indians
treat their wives with severity.
The belief of the Tondanwandeys, relative to a future state, is very
simple and interesting. The death of friends is one of the greatest
trials of life; and is calculated to produce the happiest influence upon
the human heart. It alienates our affections from this world, and
directs them to the happy abode of departed spirits. The desire of
meeting our friends in a better state of existence renders Heaven doubly
dear to us; and combines at once the tenderness of affection, the hope
of glory, and the fear of God. The poor Indian fears nothing so much as
the permanent loss of his friends; and finding them in a better world
constitutes, with him, the bliss of Heaven.
I continued at the Indian village until about noon of the next day.
Before leaving it, I purchased a pair of deerskin moccasons. It having
snowed the preceding night, my path through the wood was obliterated.
After travelling a mile or two I became completely bewildered; and
although I had a pocket compass with me, I thought it best to return to
the village, and obtain some directions from the Indians; but as it was
still snowing fast, my track in this direction could not, at length, be
distinguished from the impression made by masses of snow, falling from
the trees. I am unable to do justice to the solitude of my situation. It
was profound and instructive. The force of thought and luxury of
sentiment, which the wilderness inspires, is indiscribable. Here man
feels, at once, humble and exalted. _Silence_, with a voice of thunder,
maintains the cause of virtue, and the human soul experiences the
tranquil ardour of immortal hopes.
Much exertion at length brought me to the place where, the evening
before, I noticed the Indian {60} path. Having been plunging through the
snow for some time, without taking any notice of my dogs, I found, when
I stopped to rest, that one of them was missing. After waiting some time
for his arrival, I went back about two miles, and found, him lying in
the snow. As soon as I had come within a few rods of him, he arose and
ran further from me, but at the same time appeared desirous of
convincing me of his devotion, by smiles, and the wagging of his tail.
By his manner he seemed to say: I wish to be faithful, but I am weary,
and see no end to our travel. Lameness, however, was the cause of his
discouragement. It appeared, that one of his feet was frozen.
In the course of a day or two from this time, I arrived in the
neighbourhood of the Tuscarora Indians. They are situated on a ridge of
hills, leading to which there are several very romantic passes. I
visited them early in the morning. At this time the weather was very
cold, and there was no path through the deep snow excepting some
imperfect tracks made by themselves. In clambering up these hills,
walking on the narrow footing of their sides, and supporting myself by
the little bushes which had grown from the veins of the rocks, my mind
dwelt upon Switzerland, and I almost imagined myself a Chamois hunter.
When I had come within view of the village, several Indians were about
their wigwams, but upon seeing me, they all entered them, and shut the
doors. The Tuscaroras, as well as the Tondanwandeys, had been
sacrificing their dogs, and wearing their masks, and their imaginations,
no doubt, were rather lively. But whatever may have been their
impressions concerning me, they appeared, at first, very inhospitable. I
went to the door of one of the huts, into which I saw several Indians
enter, and knocked; {61} but all was silence. Not wishing to be
obtrusive, I then went to another; and here, too, all was silence. I
knew not what to make of these appearances, and thought that the Indians
might be preparing to shoot me through the door; but feeling that I had,
in a state of nature, at least an _imperfect_ right to seek under one of
their roofs a resting place or a drink of water, I opened the door and
walked in. There were here several Indians, and they all appeared timid.
By my manner, however, I soon convinced them of my pacific disposition;
and they, at length, became a little sociable.
There is a missionary among the Tuscaroras; but I understand that he
meets with much opposition from them. They, like other unchristianized
men, point to the bad conduct of many of those, who have always
possessed the light of revelation.—This argument is plausible; and, to
them, it appears conclusive. In fact, however, it is very unsound. There
are individuals among this tribe, who threaten the most bloody
destruction upon those of their nation, who shall embrace the christian
religion.
I may add, that we expect too much from savages, in relation to this
subject. Before we attempt to make christians of them, we ought to make
them rational men: we ought first to persuade them to adopt the manners
and customs of civilization: we ought first to teach them the elements
of literature. By these means their minds would become so enlarged and
strengthened, as to enable them to understand the most plain and simple
truths of the gospel; and in understanding they would appreciate them.
In endeavouring to instruct savages in religion without taking these
previous steps, little or no success can rationally be expected. The
narrowness of their views prevents them from understanding the force of
its precepts; and therefore they will prefer {62} their own
superstitions to what they consider ours. Savages, with respect to this
subject, should be treated like little children; their letters should
first be taught them, and then their catechism:—
“God sees from whole to part;
But human soul, must rise from individual to the whole.”
The Tuscarora Indians emigrated from North Carolina very early in the
seventeenth century, and were adopted by the Oneidas.[60] It is said
that they were, originally, of the same nation.
Soon after my little excursion to the Tuscaroras, I arrived at
Lewistown; the place which made so great a figure in the newspaper
annals of the late war.[61] It is a very small village. Opposite to this
place, across the river Niagara, are the heights of Queenstown. The
portage, rendered necessary by the falls of Niagara, commences at this
part of the Straits; this being the head of ship navigation from Lake
Ontario.
From Lewistown I proceeded down, along the east bank of the river, to
Fort Niagara.[62] Colonel Pinkney, who commanded there, is a man of a
noble aspect and elegant manners.[63] From him and his lady I
experienced a hospitable and kind reception. Whilst at the Fort I was
surprised to find that the River Niagara and Lake Ontario never freeze.
This is a fact of which I was ignorant.
On the opposite side of the Niagara, is the field where Gen. Brock fell;
and on this side is the monument of Colonel Christie:—
“I have seen a tomb by a roaring stream,
The dark dwelling of a chief.”
Colonel Christie was a truly brave and devoted soldier; and General
Brock, though a foe, was distinguished for conduct, courage and
humanity.[64] {63} Fort Niagara is situated on the east bank of the
river of this name, at its junction with Lake Ontario. This is a very
important post. The Fort was built by the French in 1751; and in 1759 it
was taken by the British General Johnson, after defeating the French
army near that place. The vicinity of the Fort was, originally, the
peculiar country of the Iroquois, or Six Nations. As to the causes of
Lake Ontario, never freezing, it is evident that they must be local and
peculiar. Lake Erie, which is not so far north, freezes hard. This
circumstance shows, that congelation does not depend so much upon
latitude, as upon other circumstances. Abstractedly it is otherwise; but
relative to peculiar local causes the position is correct. In Hudson’s
Bay, the weather in winter is intensely cold; yet this place is only in
the latitude of London. It is generally supposed to be intolerably cold
at the North Pole; but the fact may be otherwise. The idea arises from
an abstract survey of the nature of latitude, and from connecting it
with the known temperature of a particular situation. It is known to be
very cold in that part of Greenland which lies on the coast of Baffin’s
Bay; and the inference drawn is, that the weather is much more so at the
North Pole. But, it may as well be said that because it is cold on the
river Piscataqua, it is much more so on the river Thames; and yet here
the fact contradicts the argument. In some places under the Equator, the
weather is as mild in summer as it is in New-England; why therefore, may
it not be as warm in winter at the North Pole, as in the latter place?
In point of analogy the question is unanswerable. But there is a more
direct argument: in some situations under the equator, there is
perpetual snow. I am aware, however, that this depends upon altitude. It
is said that there is everlasting ice at the North Pole; {64} but the
assertion cannot be correct. The surface of the North Pole consists
either of land or ocean; if land it cannot become ice, and if ocean it
must continue in a liquid state; for no ocean has ever been known to
freeze: the depth of its water, and its perpetual undulation prevent
such effect. Besides, in north latitudes as far as eighty or eighty-two,
sea fogs are known to prevail, and these too prevent the congelation of
the ocean.
The influence of the sun upon the various parts of the earth, during its
annual motion, is not yet fully understood; and the effect of local
causes adverse from or cooperative with such influence is yet to be
learned.[65]
As to the mountains of ice, which have been seen in north latitudes, and
which have been mentioned as evidence of the perpetual frost of the
North Pole, they, probably, floated from some neighboring bays, such as
Baffin’s, Hudson’s, &c. and were formed by the accumulation of several
masses of ice, which were created on the surface of these bays, and also
by the additions of snow and rain. This last idea seems to be sanctioned
by the fact, that from these mountains, as they are called, rivulets of
fresh water, produced by their gradual dissolution, have been known to
distil from their summit.
“Local and peculiar causes,” with respect to climate, do, in all
probability, operate every where. It is, in many cases, as cold in lower
as in higher latitudes. In the latitude of the Island of St. Joseph,[66]
it is as cold in winter, as it is at Quebec. One of the great causes of
a diversity of climate, beyond that which is produced by latitude, may
be found {65} in the difference between land and sea air; and yet this
cause may, in some cases, be so controuled by an adverse cause, as to be
rendered inoperative. Upon the first idea, however, it may be warmer at
the North Pole than on the Arctic Circle; indeed, in the former place,
the weather may be quite moderate, even in winter. Another circumstance
in support of this supposition may be adduced: it is well known that the
earth itself is productive of heat. In the United States, its
temperature is, perhaps, from thirty to fifty degrees. At the North
Pole, the surface of the globe must be, during a part of the year,
heated to a much greater degree; even allowing, as will be proper, for
the difference between the capacities of land and water, to imbibe heat.
At the Poles, the heat of their surface, during those months in which
the sun, as to them, does not set, must be intense; and for this heat to
evaporate, would require a considerable time, even during the total
absence of the sun. In Russia, vegetation is so rapid, that the work of
sowing and reaping is frequently accomplished in six weeks; and in the
latitude of eighty, the heat in summer is so great as to melt the pitch
in the seams of vessels, to such a degree as to endanger their safety.
In advancing the foregoing theories, respecting local and peculiar
climate, for the purpose of throwing some light upon the unfrozen state
of Lake Ontario during the winter season, I have, perhaps, taken too
extensive a range; but the subject is, in its nature, inexhaustible. My
concluding reflections upon this topic, will have a more particular
application to it.
Some of the causes of Lake Ontario never freezing are, probably, the
depth of its water, and its exposure to winds. Frost is, in its nature,
heavy; and therefore shallow water gets chilled sooner, and {66} sooner
freezes. As soon as the surface of water becomes impregnated with frost,
its weight presses it to the bottom, and a new supply rises to take its
place. Thus, a revolution is continued, until the whole mass becomes
chilled to a certain degree, and then the surface congeals. The
necessary quantity of cold in the mass, to produce this effect upon the
surface, is about thirty degrees. The depth of Lake Ontario is very
great. Attempts to ascertain its depth have, in many places, been in
vain: various parts of the centre have been sounded with a line of three
hundred and fifty fathoms, without success. It must require a great
degree, and a long continuance of cold, so to chill so deep a body of
water, as to produce the congelation of its surface.
As to the influence of wind, it produces, as has been observed, an
undulation of water, so as to prevent that regular operation of frost,
which is necessary to congelation. The land on the north-east of Lake
Ontario, is low; and the Lake is frequently agitated by storms.