kee candan hapadgey kee zargetoone nishinnorbay mornooch kee tarpenan
nocey keen aighter, O, dependan nishinnorbay, mornooch towwarch weene
ojey mishcoot pockcan tunnockay._—The Master of Life gives courage. It
is true, all Indians know that he loves us, and {75} we now give our
father to him, that he may find himself young in another country, and be
able to hunt.”
The songs and dances are renewed, and the eldest son gives his father
the death-stroke with a tomahawk: they then take the body, which they
paint in the best manner, and bury it with the war weapons, making a
bark hut to cover the grave, to prevent the wild animals from disturbing
it.
Thus do the unenlightened part of mankind assume a privilege of
depriving each other of life, when it can no longer be supported by the
labour of their own hands, and think it a duty to put a period to the
existence of those to whom they are indebted for their own, and employ
those arms to give the fatal stroke, which, in more civilized countries,
would have been exerted for their support.
I remained with Mr. Shaw until the return of his men, and took an Indian
slay, loaded with wild rice and dried meat, and two of his Canadians to
assist me. In my way I called at the place where I left the Indians who
communicated to me the first account of the tumult at Mr. Shaw’s but
they were gone. My Indian and his wife waited for me, and were rejoiced
to see me again. On my return to Lac la Mort, I found all my men in good
health and spirits, having been well supplied with provisions by the
Savages, during my absence, and had increased my stock of peltry by
barter. Mr. Shaw’s men rested at my house one night, and the next
morning set off for Manontoye.
{76} _Indian Manner of going to War, &c._
Lake Manontoye, where Mr. Shaw wintered, is not so large as Lac
Eturgeon: it abounds with excellent fish and wild fowl; and oats, rice,
and cranberries, grow spontaneously in the swamps. There are very few
islands on it. There are about three hundred of the Chippeway nation who
resort to it; they are very wild, and delight in war, which they
sometimes wage against the Sioux, on the Mississippi; and they are
frequently absent from their families fifteen months, scarce ever
returning without a prisoner or a scalp.[61]
It is very strange that the thirst of blood should stimulate the human
mind to traverse such an amazing extent of country, suffering
inexpressible hardships, and uncertain of success, to gratify a passion,
which none but an infernal spirit could suggest; and when success has
crowned his labours, that he should return with inconceivable
satisfaction, and relate the transactions of his journey, with the
greatest exultation, smiling at the relation of agonies which he alone
occasioned. The most dreadful acts of a maniac cannot exceed such
cruelty: happy those, who enjoy the benefits of society, whose
civilization, and whose laws protect them from such detestable outrages.
Previous to their going to war, the head chief calls a council, and each
chief has a belt of wampum, and a war pipe: the belt to remind {77} them
of former transactions relative to the nation they intend to commence
hostilities against, and the pipe to smoke at the council fire. When
they have determined to make war, they send the belts and pipes to their
enemies; and if a similar compliment is returned, they instantly prepare
for blood, with the most steady and determined resolution.
The novel of Emily Montague affords a striking example of this strong
propensity for blood, which I shall relate in the author’s own words.
“A Jesuit missionary told me a story on this subject, which one cannot
hear without horror. An Indian woman with whom he lived on his mission,
was feeding her children, when her husband brought in an English
prisoner; she immediately cut off his arm, and gave her children the
streaming blood to drink. The Jesuit remonstrated on the cruelty of the
action; on which, looking sternly at him—I would have them warriors,
said she, and therefore feed them with the food of men.”
When I was at Cataraqui, the capital of the Loyalist settlements in
Canada, a party of Mohawks and Messesawgers accidentally met, and having
bartered their skins and peltry with the traders, sat themselves down to
drink the rum their merchandize had produced. As the liquor began to
operate, their imaginations suggested to them that they were of
different nations, and as the Mohawks always claimed a superiority,
intoxication made them proud: at last a dispute arose, and a Messesawger
Indian was killed, and his heart taken out, which the {78} Mohawks
intended to have broiled, but they were prevented by a gentleman who
accidentally passed by their hut, and prevailed upon them to give it up.
It seems to be the constant attention both of the male and female part
of the Indians to instil ideas of heroism into the minds of the rising
generation, and these impressions they carry far beyond the line of
reason or of justice. Is it then surprising that every action of their
lives should tend to satisfy their thirst for revenging offences
committed against them, and that these sentiments should operate so
powerfully in directing their future conduct? There is, nevertheless,
one exception to these observations—their conduct to traders, who are
obliged on some occasions, when intoxication runs high, to beat them
very soundly;—to their credit, in these instances, I must confess I
never knew them to resent this severity when sober. The only remark they
have made has been—“Friend, you beat me very severely last night—but I
do not mind, I suppose I deserved it—it was the liquor made me offend.”
Or if they betray any dissatisfaction, one glass of rum will reconcile
all differences. With regard to severity when they are perfectly sober,
I am convinced it would be highly dangerous, and should be cautiously
avoided.
But although they often express these blood-thirsty sentiments, and too
frequently put them in execution, yet there are occasions when they
exercise both temper and reason.
When I was at Pimistiscotyan Landing, on Lake Ontario, I had a large
dog, to protect myself and property; an Indian came in rather {79} in
liquor to ask for rum, and probably might strike the animal; the dog
instantly seized him by the calf of the leg, and wounded him dreadfully.
He returned to his hut, and made no complaint till the next morning,
when he desired to speak with me: I went to him, and he told me how the
dog had used him, saying, he hoped I would give him a pair of leggons,
to supply those which the dog had torn; but that with regard to his leg,
he did not trouble himself much about that, as he knew it would soon be
well. I immediately granted his request, and added a bottle of rum, with
which he seemed well pleased, and I heard no more of it.
But to return to the subject of going to war. The women and children
sometimes go forward in their canoes singing the war songs, and encamp
every evening at sunset, having a great dislike to travelling in the
dark. Forty-eight young warriors are placed, in four divisions, to keep
guard at night, armed with guns, bows and arrows, and some scotté
wigwas, or fire bark, to light in case of sudden surprise.
This bark is taken from the birch tree, and being properly dried, is
used by the Indians to light them to spear fish: it is fixed on a stick
about seven feet long, and either put at the head of the canoe, or
carried by the person who attends upon the man that spears, and whose
business it is also to steer the canoe.
At day break the Indians depart, and pursue their journey regardless of
the weather, till they arrive in the enemy’s country, when the utmost
precaution is adopted that it is possible for human invention to
suggest.
{80} When war is made against the Mississippi Indians, they endeavour to
kill the men and women, and bring away the children to dispose of to the
traders, who send them down to Montreal for servants. The boys are not
so much to be depended upon as the girls, being more stubborn, and
naturally disdaining the idea of slavery; they are also full of pride
and resentment, and will not hesitate to kill their masters in order to
gratify their revenge for a supposed injury. The girls are more docile,
and assimilate much sooner with the manners of civilization. Being
unaccustomed to domestic life, they are at first sick and unhealthy; but
the change soon becomes familiar to them, and they then prefer it to the
uncultivated manner of living in which they were brought up.[62]
A few days after my return to Lac la Mort, a band of Savages arrived
from the Red Lake, called by the Indians, _Misqui Sakiegan_, and some
from Lake Shabeechevan, or the Weed Lake, about five days march beyond
Lake Manontoye. Red Lake is so called on account of a remarkable
circumstance which happened to two famous warriors of the Chippeway
nation, who were hunting by the lake side, and as they were looking out
for game, perceived at some distance an enormous beast, that appeared
much larger than any animal they had ever seen; his pace was slow and
heavy, and he kept constantly by the water side. They followed him as
close as they thought prudent, determined at all hazards to use their
best endeavours to kill him. As they approached, they had a clearer
view, and discovered that his body was covered with something like moss;
this increased their surprise, and after consulting together, they
continued advancing towards the beast, and fired large shot, without
appearing to make any impression. They {81} fired again with as little
effect as before; then retreated some distance, sat down and sung their
war songs, addressing themselves to the Master of Life, and desiring his
assistance to enable them to conquer it, as they believed it to be the
_Matchee Mannitoo_, or bad spirit, in the shape of this monster. They
then got up and pursued him, both firing at the same time: the shot
proved successful, and caused the animal to turn round, which induced
them to keep up their fire till the beast jumped into the water, and
they lost sight of him. From the circumstance of his blood dyeing the
water red, this lake has ever since been called the Red Lake.
Fish is caught here in great abundance, and wild rice grows in very
great plenty in the swamps. The country likewise abounds with all sorts
of animals for hunting. There are several rivers and falls of water on
the northwest part. The Indians are very fond of fishing and hunting
here during the winter season, as they are generally very successful
even in the most severe weather. From Red Lake to Lake le Sel, or Salt
Lake, by the Indian accounts, there are fourteen short portages, and
twenty-two creeks. Lake le Sel is very small, and the water shallow and
muddy. It does not exceed three miles in length. There are few fish
except eels, cat fish, and pike; but it abounds with musquashes and wild
fowl. From this lake to Lake Caribou, or Rein deer Lake, is eight days
march across five creeks and three portages.
Lake Caribou, or, in the Indian language, _Ateeque_, is about thirty
miles long, with several small islands, resembling the Mille Isles, in
the River St. Laurence, above Montreal. The water is deep and clear,
{82} and the bottom hard. It abounds with large trout, white fish,
pickerill, pike, and sturgeon. It is surrounded by a chain of high
mountains. Some years ago a French trader settled here, but of late it
has been deserted. The Indians reckon it ten days march to Lake
Schabeechevan, across thirteen portages, and as many creeks; but as I
wintered here the following year, though I went to it by a different
track, I shall not describe it till I give an account of the occurrences
of that time. From Lake Schabeechevan to Lake Arbitibis are three small
lakes, eight creeks, and five portages. Lake Arbitibis is very large,
and the surrounding land rocky and mountainous. This Lake furnishes the
Indians with fish and wild fowl. The aquatic race abound in this part of
the world, doubtless so appointed for the support of the numerous tribes
of Savages, who are obliged to resort to the lakes for food. At the
northern extremity of this Lake is a large fall of water, which flows
from a river whose current is rapid for about twenty miles. On this
river there are also dangerous rapids; the land upon its banks is low,
and the beach sandy. From Lake Arbitibis to Crow’s Nest Lake, called by
the Indians, _Cark Cark Sakiegan_, is a short distance. The utmost
circumference of Crow’s Nest Lake scarcely exceeds two leagues, and is
only remarkable for a small island in the middle, with about forty high
palm trees, where the crows build their nests, which is called _Cark
Cark Minnesey_. The fish in this Lake are very indifferent, being mostly
of the sword-fish kind, which the Indians seldom eat. From this Lake is
a long portage, and about half way a high mountain. At the end of the
carrying place is a river called _Cark Cark Seepi_, or Crows’ River,
which runs with a strong current for about thirty miles, from
_Neeshshemaince Sakiegan_, or the Lake of the Two Sisters; so called
from the meeting of two currents, which form one grand discharge into
{83} the lake. The Hudson’s Bay Indians hunt here with great success. At
the end is a carrying place about a quarter of a mile long, that leads
to a remarkably narrow river, which runs with a strong current for about
fifty leagues: the land on each side being very high, makes the
navigation dark. The Indians in going up this river travel as light as
possible, to enable them to combat the strong current. The Hudson’s Bay
Company are supplied with a considerable quantity of peltry from this
river.
As the description of this country, hitherto so little explored, is a
principal part of what I intended in this publication, I have described
it either from my own knowledge, or the most authentic information I was
able to procure from the Savages. In this respect I have followed
Carver, who on his arrival at the grand portage, met a large party of
Killistinoe and Assinipoil Indians, from whom he received accounts of
several lakes and rivers, which he describes agreeable to the
information he obtained.
It is necessary to observe, that though the Indians are very expert in
delineating countries upon bark, with wood coal mixed with bears’
grease, and which even the women do with great precision, the length of
a day’s march is very uncertain, and consequently cannot afford any
geographical information. This remark, I trust, will be found to want no
farther proof than the consideration that their drafts consist
principally of lakes and rivers, as they seldom travel much by land; and
when their track over land is described, it is perhaps only a short
portage which they cross, in order again to pursue their journey on
their favourite element. But as few persons will probably read this
account {84} with a view of going into this country, the description I
have been able to give will be sufficient for the generality of my
readers. I lament exceedingly my inability to make this work more
perfect, but trust that it will be found highly useful to those whose
avocations may induce them to have recourse to it for information and
guidance in commercial pursuits. If an Indian goes with the stream, or
against it, from sunrise to sunset, it is called a day’s march. This
uncertainty makes it very difficult for any one who travels as a trader
to ascertain any thing more than the Indian distance from one lake to
another. As Mr. Carver, in his map, says that the branches which run
from Riviére St. Louis, at the end of West Bay, in Lake Superior, are
but little known, I can with equal propriety observe that those from
Lake Alemipigon, or Nipegon, both east and west, are very difficult to
describe geographically. The known candour of my countrymen, will, I am
persuaded, pardon any errors of this sort, as I can assure them I have
exerted my best endeavours to render the description of places, with
respect to distances and situation, as clear as possible, which the
chart I hope will more fully explain.[63]
{85} _Further Transactions with the Indians; their Superstition,
Jealousy, &c._
Having given an account of the different lakes, rivers, &c. from Lac la
Mort, I shall continue the narrative from my return from Lake Manontoye,
where I relieved Mr. Shaw.
A few days after, another band of Savages arrived with skins, furs, and
some provisions; they stayed with me two days, making merry with what
rum I could spare them, without doing any mischief, and departed at last
very peaceably. On the twenty-third of February another band came in,
consisting of about eighty, men, women, and children, who brought dried
meats, oats, bears’ grease, and eight packs of beaver, which I
purchased, giving them rum, as usual, with which they got intoxicated.
In this frolic one woman was killed, and a boy terribly burnt. On the
third day they departed, well pleased with their reception, leaving us
plenty of provisions. The weather being more moderate, I sent my men to
the lake to look after the nets, which had been under the ice a
considerable time, the severity of the season not having allowed us to
examine them for near a month, when, to our great mortification they
were found almost rotten, and not a single fish; but as one of the
Canadians could make nets as well as myself, we repaired the damage; and
caught plenty of fish to support us till April.
The severity of the season was sensibly felt by Mr. James Clark,
belonging to the same company, who had five men starved at Lake Savan,
{86} a bad lake for fish, about three hundred and fifty miles from my
wintering ground;[64] the Indians being obliged to hunt so far back in
the woods that they could not give him any assistance; and from the
concurrent accounts of the traders in the northwest, as well as from the
Savages who resorted to my house, it was the hardest winter they ever
remembered.
About this time a large band of Chippeways arrived, traded with me for
their hunt, and finished their frolic in a peaceable manner. While this
band was with me, a curious circumstance occurred, which I shall relate.
One part of the religious superstition of the Savages, consists in each
of them having his _totam_, or favorite spirit, which he believes
watches over him. This _totam_ they conceive assumes the shape of some
beast or other, and therefore they never kill, hunt, or eat the animal
whose form they think this _totam_ bears.
The evening previous to the departure of the band, one of them, whose
_totam_ was a bear, dreamed that if he would go to a piece of swampy
ground, at the foot of a high mountain, about five days march from my
wigwaum, he would see a large herd of elks, moose, and other animals;
but that he must be accompanied by at least ten good hunters. When he
awoke he acquainted the band with his dream, and desired them to go with
him: they all refused, saying it was out of their way, and that their
hunting grounds were nearer. The Indian having a superstitious reverence
for his dream (which ignorance, and the prevalence of example among the
Savages, carries to a great height), thinking himself {87} obliged to do
so, as his companions had refused to go with him, went alone, and coming
near the spot, saw the animals he dreamed of; he instantly fired, and
killed a bear. Shocked at the transaction, and dreading the displeasure
of the Master of Life, whom he conceived he had highly offended, he fell
down, and lay senseless for some time: recovering from his state of
insensibility, he got up, and was making the best of his way to my
house, when he was met in the road by another large bear, who pulled him
down, and scratched his face. The Indian relating this event at his
return, added, in the simplicity of his nature, that the bear asked him
what could induce him to kill his _totam_; to which he replied, that he
did not know he was among the animals when he fired at the herd; that he
was very sorry for the misfortune, and hoped he would have pity on him:
that the bear suffered him to depart, told him to be more cautious in
future, and acquaint all the Indians with the circumstance, that their
_totams_ might be safe, and the Master of Life not angry with them. As
he entered my house, he looked at me very earnestly, and pronounced
these words; “_Amik, hunjey ta Kitchee Annascartissey nin, O Totam,
cawwicka nee wee geossay sannegat debwoye_:”—or, “Beaver, my faith is
lost, my _totam_ is angry, I shall never be able to hunt any more.”
This idea of destiny, or, if I may be allowed the phrase,
“_totamism_,”[65] however strange, is not confined to the Savages; many
instances might be adduced from history, to prove how strong these
impressions have been on minds above the vulgar and unlearned. To
instance one, in the history of the private life of Louis the XV.
translated by Justamond, among some particulars of the life of the
famous Samuel Bernard, the Jew banker, of the court of France, he says,
that he was superstitious {88} as the people of his nation are, and had
a black hen, to which he thought his destiny was attached; he had the
greatest care taken of her, and the loss of this fowl was, in fact, the
period of his own existence, in January, 1739.
Dreams are particularly attended to by the Indians, and sometimes they
make an artful use of the veneration that is paid to them, by which they
carry a point they have in view: I shall relate an instance for the
satisfaction of the reader.
Sir William Johnson, sitting in council with a party of Mohawks, the
head chief told him, he had dreamed last night, that he had given him a
fine laced coat, and he believed it was the same he then wore; Sir
William smiled, and asked the chief if he really dreamed it; the Indian
immediately answered in the affirmative: Well then, says Sir William,
you must have it; and instantly pulled it off, and desiring the chief to
strip himself, put on him the fine coat. The Indian was highly
delighted, and when the council broke up, departed in great good humour,
crying out, _who-ah!_ which is an expression of great satisfaction among
them.
The next council which was held, Sir William told the chief that he was
not accustomed to dream, but that since he met him at the council, he
had dreamed a very surprising dream; the Indian wished to know it; Sir
William, with some hesitation, told him he had dreamed that he had given
him a tract of land on the Mohawk River to build a house on, and make a
settlement, extending about nine miles in length along the banks: the
chief smiled, and looking very cheerfully at Sir William, {89} told him,
if he really dreamed it he should have it; but that he would never dream
again with him, for he had only got a laced coat, whereas Sir William
was now entitled to a large bed, on which his ancestors had frequently
slept. Sir William took possession of the land by virtue of an Indian
deed signed by the chiefs, and gave them some rum to finish the
business.[66] It is now a considerable estate, but since the war the
Americans have deprived him of it, with all the buildings, &c. which are
very valuable. It lies on the opposite shore to the German Flats, but
the land is by no means equal in goodness with the soil there. Perhaps
no part of America produces land better calculated for cultivation than
the German Flats.
During the American war, the best Loyalist troops were collected from
the Mohawk River, and it was agreed on all hands that for steadiness,
bravery and allegiance, they were not to be excelled. Government has
done its utmost to reward many of them for their services, by giving
them land in Canada and Nova Scotia; and to those whom poverty obliged
to solicit them, implements of husbandry. They are now in a very
flourishing state, and there is no doubt but they will prove valuable
friends and supporters of Great Britain on any future emergency.
During the severe weather, I had a narrow escape from a contrivance of
the Indian who was occasionally with me, and whom I employed in hunting,
and making marten traps: this was occasioned by jealousy, on account of
his wife, who was a pretty young _Squaw_, of the Rat nation, and whom he
suspected of infidelity.