children with as much affection as parents in the most civilized states
can boast; many proofs might be adduced to support this assertion. A
mother suckles her child till it attains the age of four or five years,
and sometimes till it is six or seven. From their infant state they
endeavour to promote an independent spirit; they are never known either
to beat or scold them, lest the martial disposition which is to adorn
their future life and character, should be weakened: on all occasions
they avoid every thing compulsive, that the freedom with which they wish
them to think and act may not be controuled. If they die, they lament
their death with unfeigned tears, and even for months after their
decease will weep at the graves of their departed children. The nation
of Savages called Biscatonges, or by the French, Pleureurs, are said to
weep more bitterly at the birth of a child, than at its decease; because
they look upon death only as a journey from whence he will return, but
with regard to his birth, they consider it as an entrance into a life of
perils and misfortunes.[58]
As soon as a child is born, if in summer, the mother goes into the
water, and immerses the infant; as soon as this is done, it is wrapped
up in a small blanket, and tied to a flat board, covered with dry moss,
in the form of the bottom of a coffin, with a hoop over the top, where
the head lies, to preserve it from injury. In winter it is clad in skins
as well as blankets. In the heat of summer gauze is thrown over the
young Savage, to keep off the musquitoes, which are very troublesome
{61} in the woods. The board, on which the child is placed, is slung to
the mother’s forehead with a broad worsted belt, and rests against her
back.
When the French took possession of Canada, the women had neither linen,
nor swaddling cloaths; all their childbed furniture consisted of a kind
of trough, filled with dry rotten wood dust, which is as soft as the
finest down, and well calculated to imbibe the moisture of the infant;
on this the child was placed, covered with rich furs, and tied down with
strong leather strings. The dust was changed as often as necessary, till
the child was weaned.[59]
Among the Indians who are in any degree civilized, the women feed their
children with pap made of Indian corn and milk, if it can be obtained;
but in the parts more northern, and remote from Europeans, wild rice and
oats are substituted, which being cleansed from the husk, and pounded
between two stones, are boiled in water with maple sugar: this food is
reckoned very nourishing, and with broth made from the flesh of animals
and fish, which they are frequently able to procure, cannot fail of
supporting and strengthening the infant. Among several of the tribes of
Indians, pap is made of sagavite, from a root they call toquo, of the
bramble kind; this is washed and dried, afterwards ground, or pounded,
and made into a paste, which being baked is pleasant to the taste, but
of a very astringent quality. It is their common bread.
On our arrival at Lac Eturgeon, as the weather was bad, we encamped
three days, which gave me an opportunity of making some observations
{62} on this Lake, which I could not do when I passed it in my way to
Lac la Mort.
This Lake, by the Indian accounts, is about five days journey by water:
the width in some parts is about thirty miles. There are a number of
small islands on it which abound with hares, partridges, and wild fowl.
The Indians who frequent it are the Hawoyzask or Musquash, who speak the
Chippeway language. They are usually more stationary than the generality
of the Chippeways; they seldom leave the inlands, and are excellent
hunters. Mr. Carver, in his chart, points out a village leading to
Riviére St. Croix, which he says belongs to the roving Chippeways; but I
believe all the nation, with very few exceptions, may be called rovers
in the strictest sense of the word.[60]
The first day of our encampment we killed a hare, made fish-hooks of the
thigh bones, and baited them with the flesh. The lines were made of the
bark of the willow tree cut into slips, and twisted hard together.
Success crowned our endeavours, for we not only caught sufficient for
present use, but enough for the remainder of the journey to Lake
Manontoye.
The day before our arrival we killed two otters, which I intended as a
present to Mr. Shaw, not doubting but any animal food would be
acceptable from the severity of the season, concluding that his
situation was as bad as our own, except in the article of wild oats.
When arrived within about six miles of the lake, we met a small party of
Indians, who alarmed us by an account of a dreadful confusion among
their tribe, occasioned by the Hudson’s Bay Savages having killed three
of their {63} band; and they said they believed Mr. Shaw had fallen a
sacrifice to their fury, as they had heard them consult together to
plunder the trader. They lamented exceedingly their inability to assist
him, not being even strong enough to resent their own personal injury;
however, they promised to accompany me on the way, as near to Mr. Shaw’s
house as their safety would admit.
Having taken refreshment, we pursued our journey till within two miles
of the house, when they thought it prudent to leave me, and wishing me
success, retired into the woods, out of the track, to avoid being seen,
where they promised to stay till my return. My Indian and his wife did
not choose to proceed any farther, being also afraid of the Hudson’s Bay
Savages. I confess my situation was very unpleasant, and I debated in my
mind what steps to take to attempt the relief of a brother trader, and
at the same time avoid injury myself. Relying on my usual success in
suppressing these kind of tumults occasioned by intoxication, and
conscious that I knew as well as any man the nature of the Indians when
under its pernicious influence, I did not doubt, however unsuccessful my
endeavours might prove as to rescuing Mr. Shaw from his perilous
situation, but that I should certainly be able to effect an escape
myself in case of an attack; and as one favourable suggestion frequently
gives birth to another, and establishes by degrees a confidence in the
mind, I anticipated Mr. Shaw’s delivery to my entire satisfaction.
Fortified by these flattering hopes, I determined to exert my best and
speediest endeavours in his behalf, and pursued my journey without
delay. When I arrived within a quarter of a mile of the scene of
discord, I heard the war-hoop in a manner very loud and clamorous; and
though I had been accustomed {64} to such sounds, I was very much
alarmed, and felt my resolution rather staggered; sensible that the rage
of drunken Indians, when it has risen to a certain pitch, knows no
bounds, and of the extreme difficulty of reconciling them to any person
to whom they had unfortunately taken a dislike. Animated, however, with
the idea of behaving like a warrior, and recurring to the time when I
was adopted at Pays Plat, I conceived it unmanly to shrink from danger,
and pushing through the woods, had soon a full view of the infernal
spirits, for I could give them no better name.
I lay some minutes in ambush, listening with great attention, till I
heard one of them cry out in the Chippeway language, “_Haguarmissey
mornooch gunnisar Cushecance_;” or, “I do not mean to kill the _Cat_;”
which was a name given to Mr. Shaw by the Indians, from his speaking in
a feeble voice. This convinced me he was alive, though in imminent
danger. I made all possible haste up to the house, and found the
Savages, both men and women, completely drunk. The huts had been knocked
down, the canoes adrift, and the whole formed the most dreadful scene of
confusion I had ever beheld. There were also an old Indian and a woman,
who I afterwards learned was his mother, lying dead upon the snow by the
lake side. I made several efforts to get into the house, but was
prevented by the Savages, who kept me back, kissing me, and telling me
they loved me, but that I must not attempt to relieve the _Cat_. At
last, with inconceivable difficulty, I persuaded them to attend to me,
and felt the most extreme satisfaction in having succeeded, at least so
far, in an attempt which would have been dangerous to any one to have
undertaken who was not fully master of the language and character of the
Savages, and {65} at the same time cool and dispassionate enough to hear
their nonsense with patience and temper.
I then addressed myself to the most sober of the chiefs, and inquired of
him the cause of the dispute; he told me Mr. Shaw was a _dog_ instead of
a _cat_, for that he had refused them rum; and that though he and the
rest of the tribe were happy to see me, because they had heard I always
had a good heart towards the Savages, I should not go in to assist the
trader, for they were the masters of the wigwaum, and not he, and that
they were resolved to have all the rum in his possession before break of
day.
Mr. Shaw’s house might very properly be styled a fort, being secured by
high pickets, which made it difficult for the Indians to approach it,
and he had taken the precaution to fasten the outer gate as well as the
door. I told the chief it was not my intention to interfere, that I
passed accidentally in my way to Lac le Rouge, and should only stay to
refresh myself. This information pleased him exceedingly, as he knew Mr.
Shaw had only one man in the house, the rest, with the interpreter,
being out in search of provisions, so that at my departure there would
not remain force sufficient to obstruct their proceedings. I perceived
them so fully bent on accomplishing their purpose, that had I betrayed
the least intention or inclination to relieve the unhappy man, I should
most probably have been dispatched without much ceremony. The effects of
the rum they had already drank, had so elevated their spirits, that
nothing less than the full possession of the whole stock would satisfy
them; and I am persuaded that if half of them had perished, the rest
would without hesitation have risked their lives in the attempt. To
avoid all suspicion, {66} which would probably have been fatal both to
Mr. Shaw and myself, I left the chief, and watched an opportunity of
returning undiscovered. Fortunately the Indians had not drank all the
rum Mr. Shaw had given them, and the chief as soon as I had left him
went back to his hut to increase his intoxication, and communicate the
conversation which passed between us, the rest of the band having
retired soon after the conference began.
Observing the coast clear, I walked unobserved to the fort, and spoke
loud both in French and English: Mr. Shaw and his man heard me, and
recollecting my voice, were transported beyond measure. The man, who was
a Canadian, was most delighted, as his fears were very strong, it being
the first year he had wintered among the Savages. On my approach, I
heard him cry out with the greatest vehemence, “_Mon Dieu! que je suis
content! Nôtre ami est arrivé, autrement nous serions foutu. Je conte
assurément, que nous serons bientôt libre, mon cher bourgeois._” He
instantly opened the gate; I entered precipitately, and congratulated
him on the prospect of counteracting the designs of the Indians, being
resolved to exert my best endeavours, and to live or die with them. Mr.
Shaw thanked me for my professions of friendship, and immediately gave
me a concise account of the disturbance. He said the Hudson’s Bay
Indians had come to him with very little peltry, and after trading for
it, he had given them more rum than they had any right to expect; that
instead of being content with this, they insisted on more; that in a fit
of intoxication they had killed an Indian and his mother; and had
attempted to set fire to his house with punk wood, which they shot at it
lighted, fixed to the points of arrows. Having heard his story, I
encouraged him to keep up his spirits, and advised {67} him, when the
Indians returned to execute their purpose, to appear indifferent to
their menaces.
Whilst we were in deep discourse, I discovered three chiefs at a small
distance from the house, in very earnest conversation, and was convinced
they were devising some scheme to effect their design. As they
approached, I called to them, and desired them to come into the house:
they immediately advanced, and walked in one by one, with looks of
treachery, which the earnestness of the business to be executed would
not allow them to conceal. I talked to them without the least reserve,
and in apparent good temper: I asked them if they were sober; but before
they could give me an answer, the rest of the band came to the door, but
did not enter; the head chief then told me they were very sober, and
expressed great concern for their conduct, but that now the strong water
had lost its influence, they saw their folly, and were sure the bad
spirit had left their hearts.
I told them the Master of Life was angry with them, and that they did
not deserve success in hunting, for their bad behaviour to the trader,
who had been a kind father to them, and supplied all their wants. I then
presented them with some tobacco to smoke in council, which was well
received, and looking earnestly at the chief, addressed the band to the
following effect.
“_Keennerwind Ojemar woke, kee wabindan indenendum kee kee noneydone
Kitchee Mannitoo, ojey candan opin weene aighter ojey petoone nowwetting
guyack debarchemon kaygait nin oathty hapadgey nee woke keennerwind
equoy kee janis goyer metach nogome gudderbarchemon_ {68} _hunjyta O,
nishshishshin artawway winnin kaygait nee zargetoone artawway winnin
metach kakaygo arwayyor Matchee Mannitoo, guyyack neennerwind oathty
mornooch kee appay omar neegee_.”
“You chiefs, and others of the tribe whose eyes are open, I hope you
will give ear to the words of my mouth. The Master of Life has opened my
brain, and made my breath blow good words. My heart feels for you, your
wives, and children; and what I now speak proceeds from the root of my
friend’s sentiments, who owns this house, and who has told me that his
heart was opened to you on your arrival; but notwithstanding his
kindness, the bad spirit got possession of you, which made him very
unhappy, though he hoped the Master of Life would change your
dispositions, and make you good Indians, as you used to be.” To this
speech one of the chiefs made answer:
“_Kaygait Amik, kee aighter annaboycassey omar hapadgey; O,
nishshishshin kee debarchemon nogome neennerwind ojey stootewar
cockinnor nee doskeennerwaymug kee debwoye neecarnis hapadgey sannegat
neennerwind ha nishinnorbay kaygwotch annaboycassey ozome Scuttaywabo
ojey minniquy neennerwind angaymer Amik, shashyyea suggermarsh cockinnor
nogome mornooch toworch payshik muccuk Scuttaywabo ojey bockettynan
Cushshecance warbunk keejayp neennerwind ojey boossin;—haw, haw, haw._”
“It is true, Beaver, you have strong sense, it sweetens your words to
us, and we all understand you. We know, friend, your lips open with
truth. It is very hard for us Indians, who have not the sense of the
white people to know when we have had enough of the strong {69} fiery
water; but we hope the _Cat_ will throw off the film from his heart, as
ours are clear: we also hope he will open his heart once more, and give
us a small keg of the strong water, to drink to the health of our
brother and sister, whom we have sent to the far country, and to-morrow
at break of day we will depart.”
Mr. Shaw, by my advice, promised to comply with their request, on
condition of their being true to their engagements, and that they should
forbear even tasting the rum while they remained on the ground. This
determination I acquainted them with, and they retired to their huts,
leaving us in quiet possession of the fort.
The Indians remained quiet all night, which induced me to hope that my
promise of rum to them, on their departure, had accomplished the desired
effect: but I flattered myself too much, as the storm was not yet even
at the height. At break of day they assembled, and asked for the rum,
which was immediately given them; and they got into their canoes, and
went off without burying their dead. This being very uncustomary,
alarmed me, as no people are more particular in paying the greatest
respect to the remains of the deceased. Suspecting the bad spirit was
still in them, and that they were only gone a short distance to drink
the rum, we prepared for an attack, loading twenty eight northwest guns,
and a brace of pistols, and sat down by the fire expecting their return
to compleat the design my fortunate arrival had hitherto prevented. In
about an hour they returned very much intoxicated, singing their dead
war songs, and every warrior naked, painted black from head to foot: as
they approached the house in Indian file, each one repeated the
following words; “_Mornooch toworch gunnesar_ {70} _cushshecance
neennerwind ojey dependan O wakaygan_:” or, “Nevertheless we do not mean
to kill the Cat, we only own this fort, and all that is in it.”
Whilst they were singing, we were preparing our guns, and placing them
so as to be ready for immediate use, if necessary; being determined to
make a vigorous resistance, although there remained only Mr. Shaw and
myself, the Canadian having fled to the woods.
I assumed the character of commander in chief, and desired Mr. Shaw to
obey my orders implicitly, and by no means to fire till I gave the
signal; well knowing that the death of one of the Savages, even in our
own defence, would so exasperate the rest that there would not be a
possibility of escaping their fury. As our situation was truly critical,
we acted with as much coolness as men devoted to destruction could. A
fortunate thought came into my head, which I instantly put in practice:
I went into the store, and rolling a barrel of gunpowder into the outer
room, knocked out the head. I had scarcely finished it, before the
Savages arrived, and advancing to the door, armed with spears and
tomahawks, said to each other, “_keen etam_,” or, “you go first.” We
stood ready to receive them, and gave them to understand we were not
afraid of them. One of the band entered the house, and I said to him
sternly, “_Ha wa neyoe shemagonish equoy kee tertennin marmo?_” or, “Who
now among you old women is a brave soldier?” and immediately pointing my
pistol cocked to the barrel of gunpowder, cried out with great emphasis,
“_Cockinnor marmo neepoo no gome_;” or, “We will all die this day.” On
hearing these words they ran from the door, crying, “_Kitchee Mannitoo
ojey petoone Amik O mushkowar haguarmissey yang_:” {71} or, “The Master
of Life has given the Beaver great strength and courage.” The women fled
with the utmost precipitation, pushed their canoes into the water, and
got off as fast as they could: the men, who before were intoxicated,
became sober, and making as much haste as possible, paddled to an island
opposite the house. Soon after a canoe came on shore with six women, to
endeavour to make up the breach; but I refused all reconciliation,
telling them that they might have known me before; that my name was
Beaver; that all the Indians knew me to be a warrior; and that my heart
was not easily melted. The women immediately returned, carrying with
them the dead, which satisfied me they did not intend to trouble us
again.
Thus, by an happy presence of mind, we were saved from almost inevitable
destruction, and probably from ending our lives under the most
excruciating torture.
It may not be improper to observe the necessity there is for a trader to
be cool, firm, and, in case of emergency, brave, but not rash or hasty.
The Indians are just observers of the human mind, and easily discover
true from affected courage, by that apparent tranquillity which clearly
distinguishes the former from the latter. It is well known that no
people in the world put courage to so severe a trial, and watch at the
executions of their enemies with such savage curiosity, the effects of
the tortures they inflict; even the women exult in proportion to the
agony betrayed by the unhappy sufferer; though it frequently happens
thro’ the same spirit operating on both parties, that the most
excruciating torments cannot extort a sigh. An example or two from Mr.
Adair’s History of the American Indians, will shew the firmness of an
Indian {72} mind, and prove beyond a doubt that such anecdotes are not
exaggerated. Truth should be the standard of history, and guide the pen
of every author who values his reputation.
Some years ago the Shawano Indians being obliged to remove from their
habitations, in their way took a Muskohge warrior, known by the name of
old _Scrany_, prisoner; they bastinadoed him severely, and condemned him
to the fiery torture. He underwent a great deal without shewing any
concern; his countenance and behaviour were as if he suffered not the
least pain. He told his persecutors with a bold voice, that he was a
warrior; that he had gained most of his martial reputation at the
expence of their nation, and was desirous of shewing them, in the act of
dying, that he was still as much their superior, as when he headed his
gallant countrymen against them: that although he had fallen into their
hands, and forfeited the protection of the divine power by some impurity
or other, when carrying the holy ark of war against his devoted enemies,
yet he had so much remaining virtue as would enable him to punish
himself more exquisitely than all their despicable ignorant crowd
possibly could; and that he would do so, if they gave him liberty by
untying him, and handing him one of the red hot gun-barrels out of the
fire. The proposal, and his method of address, appeared so exceedingly
bold and uncommon, that his request was granted. Then suddenly seizing
one end of the red hot barrel, and brandishing it from side to side, he
forced his way through the armed and surprised multitude, leaped down a
prodigious steep and high bank into a branch of the river, dived through
it, ran over a small island, and passed the other branch, amidst a
shower of bullets; and though numbers of his enemies were in close
pursuit of him, he got into a bramble swamp, {73} through which, though
naked and in a mangled condition, he reached his own country.
The Shawano Indians also captured a warrior of the Anantoocah nation,
and put him to the stake, according to their usual cruel solemnities:
having unconcernedly suffered much torture, he told them, with scorn,
they did not know how to punish a noted enemy; therefore he was willing
to teach them, and would confirm the truth of his assertion if they
allowed him the opportunity. Accordingly he requested of them a pipe and
some tobacco, which was given him; as soon as he had lighted it, he sat
down, naked as he was, on the women’s burning torches, that were within
his circle, and continued smoking his pipe without the least
discomposure: on this a head warrior leaped up, and said, they saw plain
enough that he was a warrior, and not afraid of dying, nor should he
have died, only that he was both spoiled by the fire, and devoted to it
by their laws; however, though he was a very dangerous enemy, and his
nation a treacherous people, it should be seen that they paid a regard
to bravery, even in one who was marked with war streaks at the cost of
many of the lives of their beloved kindred; and then, by way of favour,
he with his friendly tomahawk instantly put an end to all his pains.
Though the merciful but bloody instrument was ready some minutes before
it gave the blow, yet I was assured, the spectators could not perceive
the sufferer to change either his posture or his steadiness of
countenance in the least.
Death, among the Indians, in many situations is rather courted than
dreaded, and particularly at an advanced period of life, when they {74}
have not strength or activity to hunt: the father then solicits to
change his climate, and the son cheerfully acts the part of an
executioner, putting a period to his parent’s existence.
Among the northern Chippeways, when the father of a family seems
reluctant to comply with the usual custom, and his life becomes
burdensome to himself and friends, and his children are obliged to
maintain him with the labour of their hands, they propose to him the
alternative, either to be put on shore on some island, with a small
canoe and paddles, bows and arrows, and a bowl to drink out of, and
there run the risk of starving; or to suffer death according to the laws
of the nation, manfully. As there are few instances where the latter is
not preferred, I shall relate the ceremony practised on such an
occasion.
A sweating house is prepared in the same form as at the ceremony of
adoption, and whilst the person is under this preparatory trial, the
family are rejoicing that the Master of Life has communicated to them
the knowledge of disposing of the aged and infirm, and sending them to a
better country, where they will be renovated, and hunt again with all
the vigour of youth. They then smoke the pipe of peace, and have their
dog feast: they also sing the grand medicine song, as follows.