5. Cherokees. This tribe is prominent among the native stocks in the

United States, and is foremost in the efforts it has made to take rank

among civilized nations. In this effort it has passed through some

severe and tragic ordeals from internal dissensions, from which it would

seem, that in proportion as the prize is brought within their grasp, are

the trials multiplied which delay its seizure. And, notwithstanding its

strong claims to consideration on this head, they have, it must be

admitted, much to attain. The original position of the Cherokees, in the

valleys and the western spurs of the Alleganies, and remote from the

disturbing causes which agitated the other tribes, was highly favorable

to their increase and advance. No tribe in North America had remained so

completely undisturbed, by red or white men, up to the year 1836. They

were early, and to a considerable extent, cultivators; and whatever they

were in ancient times, they have been a nation at peace, for a long

period. Soon after the close of the late war of 1812, a portion of this

tribe went over the Mississippi, and, by a compact with government,

placed themselves between the waters of the White river and the

Arkansas. This advance formed the nucleus of that political party, who

have mingled in their recent assemblies under the name of Western

Cherokees, and who deemed themselves to be entitled to some rights and

considerations above the Eastern Cherokees. The principal dissensions,

however, grew out of the question of the cession of the territory east

of the Mississippi. This was a broad question of _sale_ or _no sale_,

_emigration_ or _non-emigration_. At the head of the affirmative party

was Ridge; at the head of the negative, Ross. The latter, in addition to

his being the leading chief and most prominent man, was in a large

majority, and, for a time, successfully resisted the measure. The former

drew a number of the best educated chiefs and men to his side. Availing

himself of the temporary absence of his antagonist, Ross, from the

country, he ceded the country, and sealed the fate of his tribe east of

the Mississippi. It was a minority treaty, but the consideration was

ample; it secured large prospective advantages, besides a large and rich

domain in the West. It was, therefore, sustained by the government; the

U. S. Senate ratified it, adding some further immunities and further

compensation, at the instance of Ross. The tribe was removed, but it

went west with a deadly feud. In the end, Ridge, like McIntosh, paid for

his temerity with his life. A representative government was set up,

consisting of a house of delegates or representatives, annually chosen

by districts; a senatorial council, with powers of revision or

co-action, and an executive elective head. A code of laws has been

adopted, and a judiciary created to carry them into effect. This system,

which has been in operation some six or seven years, has been found

adequate to sustain itself through scenes of severe trial; and it must

be regarded as one which, modified as it may be, is destined to endure.

The territory of the Cherokees is between that of the Creeks and Osages.

It is ample beyond their wants, fertile, and generally well watered. The

Arkansas crosses it centrally; it has the Neosho and the State of

Arkansas as its eastern boundary. It is well adapted to the cereal

grains. Corn, wheat and oats succeed well, together with melons and

culinary vegetables of all descriptions. The Cherokees have been long

accustomed to husbandry. They own large stocks of horses, cattle, hogs

and sheep. They occupy substantial and comfortable houses. Many of their

females spin and weave, and numbers of their people are clothed in their

own manufactures. Well improved farms extend through their settlements.

A number of their merchants are natives, who buy and sell produce, and

import foreign merchandise. Reading and writing are common attainments.

They have schools and churches. They have mills for grinding grain. They

manufacture salt to a limited extent. The country yields stone coal and

gypsum. The prairies, which are interspersed through the tract, yield a

fine summer range for cattle, and produce a species of grass, which,

when properly cured, is little inferior to timothy. With a country

which has thus the elements of prosperity in itself, and an intelligent

and industrious population, this tribe must, ere long, present the

gratifying spectacle of a civilized race.

6. The Osages. This tribe is indigenous, and formerly owned a large part

of the territory which is now assigned to others. Their habits and

condition have been, however, but little benefited by the use which they

have made of their annuities. Great exertions have been made by the

local agents to induce them to give up their erratic mode of life, and

become agriculturists. To this end stock and agricultural implements

have been furnished them, and other facilities given, but without any

general effects. Among these may be named the building of mills, and the

erection of well built cabins for their chiefs. There is no tribe to

which the term predatory may be so appropriately applied as to the

Osages. They have, from an early day, been plunderers on that frontier,

among red and white men. Possessing a large territory, formerly well

supplied with the deer, elk and buffalo, powerful in numbers, courageous

in spirit, and enjoying one of the finest climates, these early

predatory habits have been transmitted to the present day. They are loth

to relinquish this wild license of the prairies--the so-called freedom

of the roving Indian. But it is a species of freedom which the

settlement of Missouri and Arkansas, and the in-gathering of the

semi-civilized tribes from the south and the north, has greatly

restricted. Game has become comparatively scarce. The day of the hunter

is well nigh past in those longitudes. When to this is added the example

of the expatriated Indians, in tillage and grazing, their field labors

in fencing and erecting houses, their improved modes of dress, their

schools, and their advanced state of government and laws, the hope may

be indulged that the Osages will also be stimulated to enter for the

prize of civilisation.

Such are the six principal tribes who form the nucleus, or, to use a

military phrase, the right wing of the expatriated aboriginal

population, as the bands are arranged in their order from south to

north, in the trans-Ozark or Indian territory. It would afford us

pleasure to devote some separate considerations to each of the remaining

nineteen tribes and half tribes, or remnants and pioneers of tribes, who

make up this imposing and interesting colony, where, for the first time

since the settlement of the Continent, the Indian race is presented in

an independent, compact, and prosperous condition. But it would

manifestly extend this article beyond its just limits, and we must

therefore generalize our remaining notices.

We still, however, adhere to a geographical method. The Senecas from

Sandusky, and the mixed Senecas and Shawnees, are situated northeast of

the Cherokees, and between the latter and the western boundary of

Missouri. They possess a hundred thousand acres of choice lands. The

Sanduskies number 251 souls; the mixed band, 222. They are represented

as farmers and stock-raisers, frugal, industrious, and less addicted to

intemperance than their neighbors. They cultivated, in 1839, from two

hundred and fifty to three hundred acres of corn. They have a

blacksmith's shop, under treaty stipulations, and possess good stocks of

horses, cattle, and hogs. The Quapaws adjoin the Senecas and Shawnees on

the north, and, as the latter, have their lands fronting on the Neosho.

This band formerly owned and ceded the south banks of the Arkansas from

its mouth as high as the Canadian fork. They are indolent, much addicted

to the use of ardent spirits, and depressed in numbers. They have a

tract of 96,000 acres. They cultivate, generally, about one hundred

acres of corn, in a slovenly manner. Part of their numbers are seated on

the waters of Red River, and the Indian predilection for rowing is

nourished by the frequent habit of passing to and fro. This erratic

habit is an unerring test of the hunter state.

The Piankashaws and Weas are of the Miami stock, and came from the

waters of the Wabash. They are located on 255 sections, immediately west

of the western boundary of Missouri, and about 40 miles south of the

Konza. Their population is 384, of which 222 are Weas. Immediately west

of them are the Peorias and Kaskaskias of the Illinois family. They

number 132, and possess 150 sections, which gives an average of more

than a square mile to each soul. Still west of these, are the Ottowas of

Ohio, about 200 in number, and above them, a small band of 61 of the

Chippewas of Swan Creek and Black River in Michigan. These locations are

all on the sources of the Osage River. The lands are fine, partly woods

and partly prairie, and are easily cultivated. These six fragmentary

bands are not dissimilar in their habits of living and the state of

their advance in agriculture. They subsist themselves by raising corn

and cattle and hogs. They evince an advancing condition, and are

surrounded by circumstances eminently favorable to it.

The Shawnees are placed at the junction of the Konza with the Missouri,

extending south and west. They number a little short of 1,300, and own a

territory of ten thousand square miles, or 6,400,000 acres. They are

cultivators and graziers in an advanced state of improvement. Hunting

may be occasionally resorted to as a sport or amusement, but it has,

years since, been abandoned as a source of subsistence. Indeed, the

failure of the game in that region would have rendered the latter

imperative, had not their improved habits of industry led to it. This

tribe have essentially conquered their aversion to labor. They drive

oxen and horses trained to the plough. They split rails and build

fences. They erect substantial cabins and barns. They have old corn in

their cribs from year to year. They own good saddle-horses and saddles,

and other articles of caparison, and a traveller or visitor will find a

good meal, a clean bed, and kind treatment in their settlements.

Next in position to the Shawnees are the Delawares, the descendants of

the ancient Lenno Lenapees of Pennsylvania. Allies and kindred in their

ancient position, they are still in juxtaposition in their new. Their

tract begins at the junction of the Konza and Missouri on the north, and

after running up the former to the Konza reserve, extends north and west

so as to embrace it on the north. It contains about 2450 square miles,

or 2,208,000 acres. They number, at the last dates to which we have

referred, 826 souls, and are on the increase. In point of habits,

industry, and improvement, they are perhaps not inferior to any of the

northern stocks. Shielded from intemperance by their position, out of

the State limits, where they are exclusively under the influence and

protection of Congress laws, this tribe, together with the entire circle

of Indian communities on that frontier, has been for some years in a

favourable position for recovering and developing their true energies.

They have, within a few years, received into their protection a small

band (182) of the Monceys, and a smaller one, of 74, of the

Stockbridges: the latter, we need hardly inform the intelligent reader,

are descendants of the ancient Mohegans, and the former of the Minsi and

Minnisinks, who, at the era of the colonization of "Nova Belgica" and

New York, were respectively located on the east and the west banks of

the Hudson. The Stockbridges are civilized; the Munsees less so, but

industrious. Both are poor, and without funds.

Immediately succeeding the Delawares are the Kickapoos, an erratic race,

who, under various names, in connection with the Foxes and Sacs, have,

in good keeping with one of their many names,[50] skipped over half the

continent, to the manifest discomfort of both German and American

philologists and ethnographers, who, in searching for the so-called

"Mascotins," have followed, so far as their results are concerned, an

_ignis fatuus_. The Kickapoos have 12,000 square miles, or 768,000

acres. It is a choice, rich tract, and they are disposed, with the

example of the Delawares and Shawnees, to profit by it. They raise corn

and cattle, hogs and horses, and are prosperous. Their numbers, in 1840,

were 470. There is a tract of 200 square miles, on the Great and Little

Namaha, assigned to the metifs, or descendants of mixed blood, of the

lowas, Otoes, and Missouris. These separate the removed and

semi-civilized tribes, south and west of the Missouri, from the wild

indigenes--we mean the Otoes, the Pawnees, the Omahaws, and the Sioux,

who extend over vast tracts, and exist without any sensible improvement

in their condition. The same remark may be applied to the Konzas, who

are, however, hemmed in between the Delawares and the Shawnees, except

on their western borders. It is no part of our purpose to consider these

tribes, as, over and above the influence of contiguous examples, they

constitute no part of the evidence affecting the general question of the

plan of removal.

That this evidence, as now briefly sketched, is favorable, and indeed

highly favorable, to the general condition and prosperity of the removed

tribes, is, we apprehend, clearly manifest. Not only have they been

placed beyond the wasting influence of causes which oppressed them,

within the circle of the State communities; but they have received in

exchange for their eastern lands, a territory which, as a whole, is

highly fertile and salubrious. It is a territory which has required

little comparative labor to cultivate, made up as it is of mixed forests

and prairies. It is also, viewed _in extenso_, well watered, having

those noble streams, the Red River, the Arkansas, the Konza, the Platte,

and the Missouri, with their tributaries, running through it. The range

which it affords for cattle and stock, and the abundance of wild hay, of

a nutritious quality, has proved very favorable to an incipient

agricultural population, and greatly mitigated the ordinary labors of

farming in northern climates. There are no latitudes in North America

more favorable to the growth of corn. The cotton plant has been

introduced by the Choctaws and Chickasaws, on the banks of Red river. It

is a region abounding in salt springs and gypsum beds, both which must

hereafter be fully developed, and will prove highly advantageous. It is

above the first or principal rapids of the great streams running down

the plateau of the Rocky Mountains, and consequently affords sites for

water-mills, which are scarce and almost unknown on the lower Arkansas.

There is, indeed, a combination of circumstances, which are calculated

to favor the General Government plan, and foster the Indians in a

general attempt at civilisation and self-government. And we look with

interest, and not without anxiety, at the result of the experiment.

We are aware that there are trials before them, arising from great

diversity of feelings and opinions, and states of civilisation. Some of

the tribes are powerful, advanced, and wealthy; some feeble and poor.

Education has very unequally affected them. Laws are in their embryo

state. The Gospel has been but partially introduced. In clothing the

native councils with some of the powers of a congress, and regulating

their action by constitutional fixity, there is great care and

deliberation required, not, at once, to grasp too much. There is perhaps

yet greater danger in enlarging the authority of the chiefs and

sagamores into something like presidential dimensions. The natives have

great powers of imitation; and it is to be feared that they will content

themselves by imitating things which they do not fully understand or

appreciate. The national character of the Indians is eminently

suspicious. There is a fear to trust others, even themselves. Delegated

power is narrowly watched, and often begrudged when given. The acts of

their public men are uniformly impugned. The thought seems hardly to be

entertained by the common Indians, that an officer may be guided by

right and honest motives. The principle of suspicion has, so to say,

eaten out the Indian heart. The jealousy with which he has watched the

white man, in all periods of his history, is but of a piece with that

with which he watches his chiefs, his neighbors, and his very family.

Exaltation of feeling, liberality of sentiment, justness of reasoning, a

spirit of concession, and that noble faith and trust which arise from

purity and virtue, are the characteristics of civilisation; and we

should not be disappointed if they do not, all at once, grow and

flourish in these nascent communities. Still, our hopes predominate over

our fears. Where so much has been accomplished as we see by the

Cherokees, the Choctaws, and Chickasaws, and our most advanced northern

tribes, we expect more. From the tree that bears blossoms, we expect

fruit.

We have no expectation, however, that without some principles of general

political association, the tribes can permanently advance. To assume the

character and receive the respect of a commonwealth, they must have the

political bonds of a commonwealth. Our Indian tribes have never

possessed any of these bonds. They are indeed the apparent remnants of

old races, which have been shivered into fragments, and never found the

capacity to re-unite. The constant tendency of all things, in a state of

nature, has been to divide. The very immensity of the continent, its

varied fertility and resources, and its grand and wild features, led to

this. Hitherto, the removed tribes in the West have opposed an

associated government. They have stoutly and effectually resisted and

rejected this part of the government scheme. They fear, the agents say,

it is some plan to bring them under the civil yoke. Time, reflection,

and education must tend to correct this. More than all, their civil

dissensions must tend to show the necessity of a more enlarged and

general frame of government, in which some individual rights must be

yielded to the public, to secure the enjoyment of the rest. We think

there is some evidence of the acknowledgment of this want, in their

occasional general councils, at which all the tribes have been invited

to be present. During the last year (1843) such a convocation was held

at Tahlequah, the seat of the Cherokee government. At this, there were

delegates present from the Creeks, Chickasaws, Delawares, Shawnees,

Piankashaws, Weas, Osages, Senecas, Stockbridges, Ottowas, Chippewas,

Peorias, Pottowattomies, and Seminoles. The result of these

deliberations, we are informed, was a compact in which it was agreed:--

1. To maintain peace and friendship among each other.

2. To abstain from the law of retaliation for offences.

3. To provide for improvements in agriculture, the arts, and

manufactures.

4. To provide against any cession of their territory, in any form.

5. To punish crimes, committed by one tribe, in the bounds of another.

6. To provide for a general citizenship among the contracting parties.

7. To suppress the use or introduction of ardent spirits.

These are very mixed principles, containing no basis of a government;

yet, futile as they are, we apprehend they contain no effective power

for their enforcement. A law without a penalty is like a rope of sand.

Any of these parties might nullify either of these acts, by neglecting

to enforce it. It is, we apprehend, the mere expression of the popular

will, in a council, without any binding obligation of the whole, or a

majority of the tribes, to compel obedience from the delinquent members.

It may, however, lead to further deliberations; and we cannot but regard

the movement as one which betokens political forethought and purpose.

Our greatest apprehensions, we must confess, before closing this paper,

arise from the peculiar geographical position of the Indian territory

with relation to our own. And this could not, perhaps, have been

anticipated twenty years ago, when the plan was formed. Our population

is on the broad move west. Nothing, it is evident, will now repress them

this side of the Pacific. The snowy heights of the Rocky Mountains are

already scaled; and we but apply the results of the past to the future,

in saying that the path which has been trod by a few, will be trod by

many. Now, the removed tribes are precisely in the centre of this path.

From the mouth of the Platte, or the Konza, the great highway to the

Oregon must run west. Whether this new tide of emigration will be

successful or unsuccessful, will those who compose it spare to trample

on the red man? Will they suddenly become kind to him, to whom they have

been unkind? Will they cease to desire the lands which their children

want? Will they consent to see the nation separated by an Indian state?

Will they award honors, nay, justice, to that state? Twenty years will

answer these questions.

* * * * *

CHOCTAWS.--An appropriation of $113,000 has been made by Congress for

the removal and subsistence of the Choctaws now in Mississippi. There

are upwards of six thousand in our state, comprising about eleven

hundred families. These are under Colonels Johnson and Fisher. The half

of the money due the Indians, and to be paid after their landing in

their new homes in the West, is to be funded. This will effectually

prevent all speculation, and enable the Indians to obtain and hold what

is due them. Those now in the state are guarded against all coercive

measures for their removal, and left free to go West or remain in their

homes in Mississippi.--_Southern Reformer._

FOOTNOTES:

[45] Democratic Review, 1844.

[46] Treaty of Fort Pitt, 1778.

[47] We have only space to say here, that the cession of the Georgia

lands was subsequently made by the Lower Creeks under the chieftaincy of

General M'Intosh, who was the first to affix his signature to it. For

this act he paid the penalty of his life; the Upper Creeks and their

adherents, having assembled in arms, surrounded his house, and fired

three hundred balls into it, killing its unhappy, but distinguished

inmate.

[48] This tribe has, the past year (1843), passed a law expelling all

white men who play at cards, from the limits of the nation, whether they

have Indian wives or not.

[49] Secretary of War's report, 1843.

[50] This is said, by one interpretation, to mean Rabbit's Ghost.

NURSERY AND CRADLE SONGS OF THE FOREST.

The tickenagun, or Indian cradle, is an object of great pride with an

Indian mother. She gets the finest kind of broad cloth she possibly can

to make an outer swathing band for it, and spares no pains in

ornamenting it with beads and ribbons, worked in various figures. In the

lodges of those who can afford it, there is no article more showy and

pretty than the full bound cradle. The frame of the cradle itself is a

curiosity. It consists of three pieces. The vertebral board, which

supports the back, the hoop or foot-board, which extends tapering up

each side, and the arch or bow, which springs from each side, and

protects the face and head. These are tied together with deer's sinews

or pegged. The whole structure is very light, and is carved with a knife

by the men, out of the linden or maple tree.

Moss constitutes the bed of the infant, and is also put between the

child's feet to keep them apart and adjust the shape of them, according

to custom. A one-point blanket of the trade, is the general and

immediate wrapper of the infant, within the hoop, and the ornamented

swathing band is wound around the whole, and gives it no little

resemblance to the case of a small mummy. As the bow passes directly

above the face and eyes, trinkets are often hung upon this, to amuse it,

and the child gets its first ideas of ornament from these. The hands are

generally bound down with the body, and only let out occasionally, the

head and neck being the only part which is actually free. So bound and

laced, hooped and bowed, the little fabric, with its inmate, is capable

of being swung on its mother's back, and carried through the thickest

forest without injury. Should it even fall no injury can happen. The bow

protects the only exposed part of the frame. And when she stops to rest,

or enters the lodge, it can be set aside like any other household

article, or hung up by the cradle strap on a peg. Nothing, indeed, could

be better adapted to the exigencies of the forest life. And in such tiny

fabrics, so cramped and bound, and bedecked and trinketed, their famous

Pontiacs and King Philips, and other prime warriors, were once carried,

notwithstanding the skill they afterwards acquired in wielding the lance

and war club.

The Indian child, in truth, takes its first lesson in the _art of

endurance_, in the cradle. When it cries it need not be unbound to nurse

it. If the mother be young, she must put it to sleep herself. If she

have younger sisters or daughters they share this care with her. If the

lodge be roomy and high, as lodges sometimes are, the cradle is

suspended to the top poles to be swung. If not, or the weather be fine,

it is tied to the limb of a tree, with small cords made from the inner

bark of the linden, and a vibratory motion given to it from head to foot

by the mother or some attendant. The motion thus communicated, is that

of the pendulum or common swing, and may be supposed to be the easiest

and most agreeable possible to the child. It is from this motion that

the leading idea of the cradle song is taken.

I have often seen the red mother, or perhaps a sister of the child,

leisurely swinging a pretty ornamented cradle to and fro in this way, in

order to put the child to sleep, or simply to amuse it. The following

specimens of these wild-wood chaunts, or wigwam lullabys, are taken from

my notes upon this subject, during many years of familiar intercourse

with the aboriginals. If they are neither numerous nor attractive,

placed side by side with the rich nursery stores of more refined life,

it is yet a pleasant fact to have found such things even existing at all

amongst a people supposed to possess so few of the amenities of life,

and to have so little versatility of character.

Meagre as these specimens seem, they yet involve no small degree of

philological diligence, as nothing can be more delicate than the

inflexions of these pretty chaunts, and the Indian woman, like her white

sister, gives a delicacy of intonation to the roughest words of her

language. The term wa-wa often introduced denotes a _wave_ of the air,

or the circle described by the motion of an object through it, as we

say, swing, swing, a term never applied to a wave of water. The latter

is called tegoo, or if it be crowned with foam, beta.

In introducing the subjoined specimens of these simple see saws of the

lodge and forest chaunts, the writer felt, that they were almost too

frail of structure to be trusted, without a gentle hand, amidst his

rougher materials. He is permitted to say, in regard to them, that they

have been exhibited to Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Smith, herself a refined

enthusiast of the woods, and that the versions from the original given,

are from her chaste and truthful pen.

In the following arch little song, the reader has only to imagine a

playful girl trying to put a restless child to sleep, who pokes its

little head, with black hair and keen eyes over the side of the cradle,

and the girl sings, imitating its own piping tones.

Ah wa nain? (Who is this?)

Ah wa nain? (Who is this?)

Wa yau was sa-- (Giving light--meaning the light of the eye)

Ko pwasod. (On the top of my lodge.)

Who is this? who is this? eye-light bringing

To the roof of the lodge?

And then she assumes the tone of the little screech owl, and answers--

Kob kob kob (It is I--the little owl)

Nim be e zhau (Coming,)

Kob kob kob (It is I--the little owl)

Nim be e zhau (Coming,)

Kit che--kit che. (Down! down!)

It is I, it is I, hither swinging, (wa wa)

Dodge, dodge, baby dodge;

And she springs towards it and down goes the little head. This is

repeated with the utmost merriment upon both sides.

Who is this, who is this eye-light bringing

To the roof of my lodge?

It is I, it is I, hither swinging.

Dodge, dodge, baby dodge.

Here is another, slower and monotonous, but indicating the utmost

maternal content:

Swinging, swinging, lul la by,

Sleep, little daughter sleep,

'Tis your mother watching by,

Swinging, swinging she will keep,

Little daughter lul la by.

'Tis your mother loves you dearest,

Sleep, sleep, daughter sleep,

Swinging, swinging, ever nearest,

Baby, baby, do not weep;

Little daughter, lul la by.

Swinging, swinging, lul la by,

Sleep, sleep, little one,

And thy mother will be nigh--

Swing, swing, not alone--

Little daughter, lul la by.

This of course is exceedingly simple, but be it remembered these chaunts

are always so in the most refined life. The ideas are the same, that of

tenderness and protective care only, the ideas being few, the language

is in accordance. To my mind it has been a matter of extreme interest to

observe how almost identical are the expressions of affection in all

states of society, as though these primitive elements admit of no

progress, but are perfect in themselves. The e-we-yea of the Indian

woman is entirely analogous to the lul la by of our language, and will

be seen to be exceedingly pretty in itself.

2. The original words of this, with their literal import, are also

added, to preserve the identity.

(a.)

Wa wa--wa wa--wa we yea, (Swinging, twice, lullaby.)

Nebaun--nebaun--nebaun, (Sleep thou, thrice.)

Nedaunis-ais, e we yea, (Little daughter, lullaby.)

Wa wa--wa wa--wa wa, (Swinging, thrice.)

Nedaunis-ais, e we yea, (Little daughter lullaby.)

(b.)

Keguh, ke gun ah wain e ma, (Your mother cares for you.)

Nebaun--nebaun--nebaun, e we yea, (Sleep, thrice, lullaby.)

Kago, saigizze-kain, nedaunis-ais, (Do not fear, my little daughter.)

Nebaun--nebaun--nebaun, (Sleep, thrice.)

Kago, saigizze-kain, wa wa, e we yea, (third line repeated.)

(c.)

Wa wa--wa wa--wa we yea, (Swinging, twice, lullaby.)

Kaween neezheka kediausee, (Not alone art thou.)

Ke kan nau wai, ne me go, suhween, (Your mother is caring for you.)

Nebaun--nebaun--nedaunis-ais, (Sleep, sleep, my little daughter.)

Wa wa--wa wa--wa we yea, (Swinging, &c. lullaby.)

Nebaun--nebaun--nebaun, (Sleep! sleep! sleep.[51])

THE HARE AND THE LYNX.

3. The story of the Wabose, (Hare,) and the Pighieu, (Lynx,) will at

once remind the reader of the so often recited tale of little Red Riding

Hood, in which the reciter imitates the tones of the wolf, and the

little nursery listener hears with a growing amazement, and starts as if

he felt the real wolf's teeth at the close.

This story is partly spoken and partly sung. The Teller imitating

alternately the Hare, and its enemy, the Lynx.

There was once, she says, a little Hare living in the lodge with its

grandmother, who was about to send it back to its native land. When it

had gone but a little way, a Lynx appeared in the path, and began to

sing,

Where pretty white one?

Where little white one,

Where do you go?

Tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! cried the Hare, and ran back to its

grandmother. "See, grandmother," said the timid little creature, "what

the Lynx is saying to me," and she repeated the song. "Ho! Nosis," that

is to say, courage my grandchild, run along, and tell him you are going

home to your native land: so the Hare went back and began to sing,

To the point of land I roam,

For there is the white one's home,--

Whither I go.

Then the Lynx looked at the trembling Hare, and began to sing,

Little white one, tell me why

Like to leather, thin and dry,

Are your pretty ears?

Tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! cried the Hare, and she ran back to her

grandmother, and repeated the words. "Go Nosis, and tell him your uncles

fixed them so, when they came from the South." So the Hare ran back and

sang,

From the south my uncles came,

And they fixed my ears the same,--

Fixed my slender ears.

and then the Hare laid her pink ears upon her shoulders, and was about

to go on, but the Lynx began to sing again,--

Why, why do you go away?

Pretty white one, can't you stay?

Tell me why your little feet,

Are made so dry and very fleet?

Tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! tshwee! said the poor little Hare, and she ran

back again to the lodge to ask again. "Ho! Nosis!" said the grandmother,

who was old and tired, "do not mind him, nor listen to him, nor answer

him, but run on."

The Hare obeyed, and ran as fast as she could. When she came to the spot

where the Lynx had been, she looked round, but there was no one there,

and she ran on. But the Lynx had found out all about the little Hare,

and knew she was going across to the neck of land; and he had nothing to

do but reach it first, and waylay her; which he did: and when the

innocent creature came to the place, and had got almost home, the Lynx

sprang out of the thicket and eat her up.

The original chant, omitting the narrative part as given above, runs in

this fashion, word for word.

Lynx. Tah kau (where ah!)

Tah hau (where ah!)

Wa bose (little white one)

Wa bose (little white one)

Ke te e zha (are you going?)

Hare. Na kwa oushing (to the point of land)

Ain dah nuk e aum baun (in my native country)

In de e zha (I go.)

Lynx. Au neen (what!)

Au neen (what!)

A nau be kaus o yun aig (causes it,)

Kish ke mun ing (why like stripes of leather,)

Ish o tow ug a una, (are your ears?)

Hare. Nish ish sha ug (my uncles,)

O sha wun e nong (when from the south)

Ke e zha waud (they came,)

Ningeeaizh e goob un eeg (they did fix me so.)

Lynx. Tah kau (where ah!)

Tah kau (where ah!)

Wa bose (little white one,)

Wa bose (little white one,)

Ke de e zha (are you going?)

Au neen (why?)

Na naub o kos o yun (look they so,)

Kish ke mun a, (like dry bits of leather,)

I izh e zida una, (your feet ha!)

4. THE KITE AND THE EAGLE.

This is a specimen of Indian satire. The coward is boastful when there

is no danger: pretension succeeds in the absence of real merit! A Kite

was boasting how high he could fly, and ventured to speak disparagingly

of the eagle, not knowing that the latter overheard him. He began to

sing in a loud voice,

I upward fly

I! I alone disdain the air

Till I hang as by a hair

Poised in the sky.

The Eagle answers disdainfully, looking down from a branch far above the

Kite,

Who _mounts_ the sky?

Who is this, with babbling tongue

As he had on the storm-cloud hung,

Who flies so high?

The Kite in a shrinking, feeble voice,

The great Khakake

I've sometimes thought he flew so high

That he must see within the sky

The dawn awake.

The Eagle despises him, and yet cannot forbear to answer.

I spurn you all, ye prating throng

How often have I passed ye by

When my broad pinions fleet and strong,

Soared up where leapt the thunder cry!

Nor ye with feeble wing might dare,

Those hill-tops high, to mount in air.

and he soared off, up, up into the sky till the boaster could not behold

him. But no sooner was the Kite left alone to himself than he began to

sing again so as to be heard on every side,

I upward fly

I, I alone disdain the air

Till I hang as by a hair

Poised in the sky.

Literally thus.

Kite. Neen a (I alone)

Neen a (I alone)

Ta wa e ya (can go up)

Bai bwau } (so as to seem as if hanging

As shau dau } by a hair)

Wa ke ge naun }

O shau wush ko geezhig oong a (from the blue sky.)

Eagle. Au wa nain (Who is this?)

Au wa nain (Who is this?)

Tshe mud je wa wa (with babbling tongue, who boasts)

Ke pim o saing. (of flying so high?)

Kite (shrinkingly) replies, "Oh I was only singing of the great Khakake,

it is he who is said to fly so high."

Eagle disdainfully replies, "Tshe mud je wa wa, that is great babbler,

or bad-tongue, you are below my notice," &c., and soars aloft.

Kite, resuming its boasting tone, as soon as the eagle is out of

hearing,

Neen a (I alone &c., the whole being a

Neen a repetition of the first part.)

Ta we ya

Bai bwau

As shau dau

Wa ke ge naun,

O shau wush ko, geezhig oong a.

5. THE RAVEN AND WOODPECKER.

A still farther view of Indian manners and opinions is hid under this

simple chant. Opinion among the forest race, makes the whole animated

creation cognizant and intelligent of their customs.

A young married woman is supposed to go out from the lodge, and busy

herself in breaking up dry limbs, and preparing wood, as if to lay in a

store for a future and approaching emergency.

A raven, perched on a neighbouring tree, espies her, at her work, and

begins to sing; assuming the expected infant to be _a boy_.

In dosh ke zhig o mun

In dosh ke zhig o mun

In dosh ke zhig o mun

My eyes! my eyes! my eyes! Alluding to the boy (and future man) killing

animals as well as men, whose eyes will be left, as the singer

anticipates, to be picked out by ravenous birds. So early are the first

notions of war implanted.

A woodpecker, sitting near, and hearing this song, replies; assuming the

sex of the infant to be _a female_.

Ne mos sa mug ga

Ne mos sa mug ga

Ne mos sa mug ga.

My worms! my worms! my worms! Alluding to the custom of the female's

breaking up dry and dozy wood, out of which, it could pick its favourite

food, being the mösa or wood-worm.

* * * * *

Want of space induces the writer to defer, to a future number, the

remainder of his collection of these cradle and nursery chants. They

constitute in his view, rude as they are, and destitute of metrical

attractions, a chapter in the history of the human heart, in the savage

phasis, which deserves to be carefully recorded. It has fallen to his

lot, to observe more perhaps, in this department of Indian life, than

ordinary, and he would not acquit himself of his duty to the race, were

he to omit these small links out of their domestic and social chain. The

tie which binds the mother to the child, in Indian life, is a very

strong one, and it is conceived to admit of illustration in this manner.

It is not alone in the war-path and the council, that the Red Man is to

be studied. To appreciate his whole character, in its true light, he

must be followed into his lodge, and viewed in his seasons of social

leisure and retirement. If there be any thing warm and abiding in the

heart or memory of the man, when thus at ease, surrounded by his family,

it must come out here; and hence, indeed, the true value of his lodge

lore, of every kind.

It is out of the things mental as well as physiological, that pertain to

maternity, that philosophy must, in the end, construct the true

ethnological chain, that binds the human race, in one comprehensive

system of unity.

LANGUAGES OF THE PACIFIC ISLANDS.

The Polynesian languages, like those of the Algonquin group of North

America, have inclusive and exclusive pronouns to express the words

_we_, _ours_, and _us_. They have also causative verbs such as, to make

afraid, to make happy, &c., but while there appears this analogy in

grammatical principles, there are some strong points of disagreement,

and there appears to be no analogy whatever in the sounds of the

language. There are eight well characterized dialects in the Polynesian

family. They are the Tahitian, the Owyhee, [Hawaiian] Marquesan, or

Washingtonian, Austral island, Hervey island, Samoan, Tongatabu, and New

Zealand. In seven of these, the name for God is Atua, in the eighth, or

Tongua dialect, it is Otua. Great resemblances exist in all the

vocabularies. Much of the actual difference arises from exchanges of the

consonants r and l, h and s, and a few others. They possess the dual

number. The scheme of the pronouns is very complete, and provides for

nearly all the recondite distinctions of person. Where the vocabulary

fails in words to designate objects which were unknown to them before

their acquaintance with Europeans, the missionaries have found it to

fall in better with the genius of the language, to introduce new words

from the Greek, with some modifications. Thus they have introduced

_hipo_ for horse, _arenio_ for lamb, _areto_ for bread, and _baptizo_

for baptism.

To continue faithful during a course of prosperity, says Xenophon, hath

nothing wonderful in it, but when any set of men continue steadily

attached to friends in adversity, they ought, on that account, to be

eternally remembered.

There are but two sources only, says Polybius, from whence any real

benefit can be derived, our own misfortunes and those that have happened

to other men.

One wise counsel, says Euripides, is better than the strength of many.

FOOTNOTES:

[51] These translations are entirely literal--the verbs to "sleep" and

to "fear," requiring the imperative mood, second person, present tense,

throughout. In rendering the term "wa-wa" in the participial form some

doubt may exist, but this has been terminated by the idea of the

_existing_ motion, which is clearly implied, although the word is not

marked by the usual form of the participle in _ing_. The phrase

lul-la-by, is the only one in our language, which conveys the evident

meaning of the choral term e-we-yea. The substantive verb is wanting, in

the first line of b. and the third of c. in the two forms of the verb,

to care, or take care of a person; but it is present in the phrase

"kediausee" in the second line of c. These facts are stated, not that

they are of the slightest interest to the common reader, but that they

may be examined by philologists, or persons curious in the Indian

grammar.

EARLY SKETCHES OF INDIAN WOMEN.

_From "New England Prospect."_

CHAPTER XIX.

OF THEIR WOMEN, THEIR DISPOSITIONS, EMPLOYMENTS, USAGE BY THEIR

HUSBANDS, THEIR APPARELL, AND MODESTY.

To satisfie the curious eye of women-readers, who otherwise might thinke

their sex forgotten, or not worthy a record, let them peruse these few

lines, wherein they may see their owne happinesse, if weighed in the

womans ballance of these ruder _Indians_, who scorne the tuterings of

their wives, or to admit them as their equals, though their qualities

and industrious deservings may justly claime the preheminence, and

command better usage and more conjugall esteeme, their persons and

features being every way correspondent, their qualifications more

excellent, being more loving, pittifull, and modest, milde, provident,

and laborious than their lazie husbands. Their employments be many:

First their building of houses, whose frames are formed like our

garden-arbours, something more round, very strong and handsome, covered

with close-wrought mats of their owne weaving, which deny entrance to

any drop of raine, though it come both fierce and long, neither can the

piercing North winde, finde a crannie, through which he can conveigh his

cooling breath, they be warmer than our _English_ houses; at the top is

a square hole for the smoakes evacuation, which in rainy weather is

covered with a pluver; these bee such smoakie dwellings, that when there

is good fires, they are not able to stand upright, but lie all along

under the smoake, never using any stooles or chaires, it being as rare

to see an _Indian_ sit on a stoole at home, as it is strange to see an

_English_ man sit on his heels abroad. Their houses are smaller in the

Summer, when their families be dispersed, by reason of heate and

occasions. In Winter they make some fiftie or thereescore foote long,

fortie or fiftie men being inmates under one roofe; and as is their

husbands occasion these poore tectonists are often troubled like

snailes, to carrie their houses on their backs sometimes to

fishing-places, other times to hunting places, after that to a

planting-place, where it abides the longest: an other work is their

planting of corne, wherein they exceede our _English_ husband-men,

keeping it so cleare with their Clamme shell-hooes, as if it were a

garden rather than a corne-field, not suffering a choaking weede to

advance his audacious head above their infant corne, or an undermining

worme to spoile his spurnes. Their corne being ripe, they gather it, and

drying it hard in the Sunne, conveigh it to their barnes, which be great

holes digged in the ground in forme of a brasse pot, seeled with rinds

of trees, wherein they put their corne, covering it from the inquisitive

search of their gurmandizing husbands, who would eate up both their

allowed portion, and reserved seede, if they knew where to finde it. But

our hogges having found a way to unhindge their barne doores, and robbe

their garners, they are glad to implore their husbands helpe to roule

the bodies of trees over their holes, to prevent those pioners, whose

theeverie they as much hate as their flesh. An other of their

employments is their Summer processions to get Lobsters for their

husbands, wherewith they baite their hookes when they goe a fishing for

Basse or Codfish. This is an every dayes walke, be the weather cold or

hot, the waters rough or calme, they must dive sometimes over head and

eares for a Lobster, which often shakes them by their hands with a

churlish nippe, and bids them adiew. The tide being spent, they trudge

home two or three miles, with a hundred weight of Lobsters at their

backs, and if none, a hundred scoules meete them at home, and a hungry

belly for two days after. Their husbands having caught any fish, they

bring it in their boates as farre as they can by water, and there leave

it; as it was their care to catch it, so it must be their wives paines

to fetch it home, or fast: which done, they must dresse it and cooke it,

dish it, and present it, see it eaten over their shoulders; and their

loggerships having filled their paunches, their sweete lullabies

scramble for their scrappes. In the Summer these _Indian_ women when

Lobsters be in their plenty and prime, they drie them to keepe for

Winter, erecting scaffolds in the hot sun-shine, making fires likewise

underneath them, by whose smoake the flies are expelled, till the

substance remains hard and drie. In this manner they drie Basse and

other fishes without salt, cutting them very thinne to dry suddainely,

before the flies spoile them, or the raine moist them, having a speciall

care to hang them in their smoakie houses, in the night and dankish

weather.

In Summer they gather flagges, of which they make Matts for houses, and

Hempe and rushes, with dying stuffe of which they make curious baskets

with intermixed colours and portractures of antique Imagerie, these

baskets be of all sizes from a quart to a quarter, in which they carry

their luggage. In winter time they are their husbunds Caterers, trudging

to the Clamm bankes for their belly timber, and their Porters to lugge

home their Venison which their lazinesse exposes to the Woolves till

they impose it upon their wives shoulders. They likewise sew their

husbands shooes, and weave coates of Turkie feathers, besides all their

ordinary household drudgerie which daily lies upon them. * * * * [Of the

treatment of babes the writer says]: The young Infant being greased and

sooted, wrapt in a beaver skin, bound to his good behaviour with his

feete upon a board two foote long and one foote broade, his face exposed

to all nipping weather; this little _Pappouse_ travells about with his

bare footed mother to paddle in the ice Clammbanks after three or foure

dayes of age have sealed his passeboard and his mothers recoverie. For

their carriage it is very civill, smiles being the greatest grace of

their mirth; their musick is lullabies to quiet their children, who

generally are as quiet as if they had neither spleene or lungs. To hear

one of these _Indians_ unseene, a good eare might easily mistake their

untaught voyce for the warbling of a well tuned instrument. Such command

have they of their voices.

* * * * *

Commendable is their milde carriage and obedience to their husbands,

notwithstanding all this their customarie churlishnesse and salvage

inhumanitie, not seeming to delight in frownes or offering to word it

with their lords, not presuming to proclaime their female superiority to

the usurping of the least title of their husbands charter, but rest

themselves content under their helplesse condition, counting it the

womans portion: since the _English_, arrivall comparison hath made them

miserable, for seeing the kind usage of the _English_ to their wives,

they doe as much condemne their husbands for unkindnesse, and commend

the _English_ for their love. As their husbands commending themselves

for their wit in keeping their wives industrious, doe condemne the

_English_ for their folly in spoyling good working creatures. These

women resort often to the _English_ houses, where _pares cum paribus

congregatæ_[52], in Sex I meane, they do somewhat ease their miserie by

complaining and seldome part without a releefe. If her husband come to

seeke for his _Squaw_ and beginne to bluster, the _English_ woman

betakes her to her armes which are the warlike Ladle, and the scalding

liquors, threatening blistering to the naked runnaway, who is soon

expelled by such liquid comminations. In a word to conclude this womans

historie, their love to the _English_ hath deserved no small esteeme,

ever presenting them some thing that is either rare or desired, as

Strawberries, Hurtleberries, Rasberries, Gooseberries, Cherries,

Plummes, Fish, and other such gifts as their poore treasury yeelds them.

But now it may be, that this relation of the churlish and inhumane

behaviour of these ruder _Indians_ towards their patient wives, may

confirme some in the beliefe of an aspersion, which I have often heard

men cast upon the _English_ there, as if they should learne of the

_Indians_ to use their wives in the like manner, and to bring them to

the same subjection, as to sit on the lower hand, and to carrie water

and the like drudgerie: but if my own experience may out-ballance an

ill-grounded scandalous rumour, I doe assure you, upon my credit and

reputation, that there is no such matter, but the women finde there as

much love, respect, and ease, as here in old _England_. I will not deny,

but that some poore people may carrie their owne water, and doe not the

poorer sort in _England_ doe the same; witnesse your _London_

Tankard-bearers, and your countrie-cottagers? But this may well be

knowne to be nothing, but the rancorous venome of some that beare no

good will to the plantation. For what neede they carrie water, seeing

every one hath a Spring at his doore, or the Sea by his house? Thus much

for the satisfaction of women, touching this entrenchment upon their

prerogative, as also concerning the relation of these _Indians_ Squawes.

FOOTNOTES:

[52] Equals assembled with equals.

PAWNEE BARBARITY.

That the tribes west of the Missouri, and beyond the pale of the

ordinary influence of civilization, should retain some shocking customs,

which, if ever prevalent among the more favoured tribes east of the

Mississippi and the Alleghenies, have long disappeared, may be readily

conceived. Wild, erratic bands, who rove over immense plains on

horseback, with bow and lance, who plunge their knives and arrows daily

into the carcasses of the buffalo, the elk and the deer, and who are

accustomed to sights of blood and carnage, cannot escape the mental

influence of these sanguinary habits, and must be, more or less, blunted

in their conceptions and feelings. Where brute life is so recklessly

taken, there cannot be the same nice feeling and sense of justice, which

some of the more favoured tribes possess, with respect to taking away

human life. Yet, it could hardly have been anticipated, that such deeds

as we are now called upon to notice, would have their place even in the

outskirts of the farther "Far West," and among a people so sunk and

degraded in their moral propensities, as the Pawnees. But the facts are

well attested.

In the fierce predatory war carried on between the Pawnees and Sioux,

acts of blood and retaliation, exercised on their prisoners, are of

frequent occurrence. In the month of February, 1838, the Pawnees

captured a Sioux girl only fourteen years of age. They carried her to

their camp on the west of the Missouri, and deliberated what should be

done with her. It is not customary to put female captives to death, but

to make slaves of them. She, however, was doomed to a harder fate, but

it was carefully concealed from her, for the space of some sixty or

seventy days. During all this time she was treated well, and had

comfortable lodgings and food, the same as the rest enjoyed. On the 22nd

of April, the chiefs held a general council, and when it broke up, it

was announced that her doom was fixed, but this was still carefully

concealed from her. This doom was an extraordinary one, and so far as

the object can be deduced, from the circumstances and ceremonies, the

national hatred to their enemies was indulged, by making the innocent

non-combatant, a sacrifice to the spirit of corn, or perhaps, of

vegetable fecundity.

When the deliberations of the council were terminated, on that day, she

was brought out, attended by the whole council, and accompanied on a

visit from lodge to lodge, until she had gone round the whole circle.

When this round was finished, they placed in her hands a small billet of

wood and some paints. The warriors and chiefs then seated themselves in

a circle. To the first person of distinction she then handed this billet

of wood and paint; he contributed to this offering, or sort of

sacrificial charity some wood and paint, then handed it to the next,

who did likewise, and he passed it to the next, until it had gone the

entire rounds, and each one had contributed some wood and some paint.

She was then conducted to the place of execution. For this purpose they

had chosen an open grassy glade, near a cornfield, where there were a

few trees. The spot selected was between two of these trees, standing

about five feet apart, in the centre of which a small fire was kindled,

with the wood thus ceremoniously contributed. Three bars had been tied

across, from tree to tree, above this fire, at such a graded height,

that the points of the blaze, when at its maximum, might just reach to

her feet. Upon this scaffold she was compelled to mount, when a warrior

at each side of her held fire under her arm pits. When this had been

continued as long as they supposed she could endure the torture, without

extinguishing life, at a given signal, a band of armed bow-men let fly

their darts, and her body, at almost the same instant, was pierced with

a thousand arrows. These were immediately withdrawn, and her flesh then

cut with knives, from her thighs, arms and body, in pieces not longer

than half a dollar, and put into little baskets. All this was done

before life was quite extinct.

The field of newly planted corn reached near to this spot. This corn had

been dropped in the hill, but not covered with earth. The principal

chief then took, of the flesh, and going to a hill of corn, squeezed a

drop of blood upon the grains. This was done by each one, until all the

grains put into the ground, had received this extraordinary kind of

sprinkling.

This horrible cruelty took place in the vicinity of Council Bluffs.

Offers to redeem the life of the prisoner had been made by the traders,

in a full council of eighty chiefs and warriors, but they were rejected.

The original narrator was an eye witness. He concludes his description

by adding, that his wife's brother, a Pawnee, had been taken prisoner by

the Sioux, in the month of June following, and treated in the same

manner. Truly, it may be said that the precincts of the wild roving Red

man, are "full of the abodes of cruelty."

* * * * *

Hunting and war are arts which require to be taught. The Indian youth,

if they were not furnished with bows and arrows, would never learn to

kill. The same time spent to teach them war and hunting, if devoted to

teach them letters, would make them readers and writers. Education is

all of a piece.

Example is more persuasive than precept in teaching an Indian. Tell him

that he should never touch alcohol, and he may not see clearly why; but

show him, by your invariable practice, that you never do, and he may be

led to confide in your admonitions.

"THE LOON UPON THE LAKE."

BY C. F. HOFFMAN.

[From the Chippewa.[53]]

I looked across the water,

I bent o'er it and listened,

I thought it was my lover,

My true lover's paddle glistened.

Joyous thus his light canoe would the silver ripples wake.--

But no!--it is the Loon alone--the loon upon the lake.

Ah me! it is the loon alone--the loon upon the lake.

I see the fallen maple

Where he stood, his red scarf waving,

Though waters nearly bury

Boughs they then were newly laving.

I hear his last farewell, as it echoed from the brake.--

But no, it is the loon alone--the loon upon the lake,

Ah me! it is the loon alone--the loon upon the lake.

TO A BIRD, SEEN UNDER MY WINDOW IN THE GARDEN.

By the late Mrs. H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT, who was a grand daughter of the war

chief WABOJEEG.

Sweet little bird, thy notes prolong,

And ease my lonely pensive hours;

I love to list thy cheerful song,

And hear thee chirp beneath the flowers.

The time allowed for pleasures sweet,

To thee is short as it is bright,

Then sing! rejoice! before it fleet,

And cheer me ere you take your flight.

FOOTNOTES:

[53] Nenemoshain nindenaìndum

Meengoweugish abowaugoda

Anewahwas mongoduga,

&c., &c.

ODJIBWA SONG.

The following song, taken from the oral traditions of the north, is

connected with a historical incident, of note, in the Indian wars of

Canada. In 1759, great exertions were made by the French Indian

department, under Gen. Montcalm, to bring a body of Indians into the

valley of the lower St. Lawrence, and invitations, for this purpose

reached the utmost shores of Lake Superior. In one of the canoes from

that quarter, which was left on their way down, at the lake of Two

Mountains, near the mouth of the Utawas, while the warriors proceeded

farther, was a Chippewa girl called Paig-wain-e-osh-e, or the White

Eagle, driven by the wind. While the party awaited there, the result of

events at Quebec, she formed an attachment for a young Algonquin

belonging to the French mission of the Two Mountains. This attachment

was mutual, and gave origin to the song, of which the original words,

with a literal prose translation, are subjoined:

I.

Ia indenaindum

Ia indenaindum

Ma kow we yah

Nin denaindum we.

Ah me! when I think of him--when I think of him--my sweetheart, my

Algonquin.

II.

Pah bo je aun

Ne be nau be koning

Wabi megwissun

Nene mooshain we

Odishquagumee.

As I embarked to return, he put the white wampum around my neck--a

pledge of truth, my sweetheart, my Algonquin.

III.

Keguh wejewin

Ain dah nuk ke yun

Ningee egobun

Nene mooshain we

Odishquagumee.

I shall go with you, he said, to your native country--I shall go with

you, my sweetheart--my Algonquin.

IV.

Nia! nin de nah dush

Wassahwud gushuh

Aindahnuk ke yaun

Ke yau ninemooshai wee

Odishquagumee.

Alas! I replied--my native country is far, far away--my sweetheart; my

Algonquin.

V.

Kai aubik oween

Ain aube aunin

Ke we naubee

Ne ne mooshai we

Odishquagumee.

When I looked back again--where we parted, he was still looking after

me, my sweetheart; my Algonquin.

VI.

Apee nay we ne bow

Unishe bun

Aungwash agushing

Ne ne mooshai we

Odishquagumee.

He was still standing on a fallen tree--that had fallen into the water

my sweetheart; my Algonquin.

VII.

Nia! indenaindum

Nia! in denaindum

Ma kow we yuh

Nin de nain dum we

Odishquagumee.

Alas! when I think of him--when I think of him--It is when I think of

him; my Algonquin.

* * * * *

Eloquence on the part of the speakers, is not so much the result of

superior force of thought, as of the strong and clear positions of

right, in which they have been placed by circumstances. It is the force

of truth, by which we are charmed.

* * * * *

An Indian war song, sung in public, by the assembled warriors on the

outbreak of hostilities, is a declaration of war.

NIAGARA, AN ALLEGORY.

An old grey man on a mountain lived,

He had daughters four and one,

And a tall bright lodge of the betula bark

That glittered in the sun.

He lived on the very highest top,

For he was a hunter free,

Where he could spy on the clearest day,

Gleams of the distant sea.

Come out--come out! cried the youngest one,

Let us off to look at the sea,

And out they ran in their gayest robes,

And skipped and ran with glee.

Come Su,[54] come Mi,[55] come Hu,[56] come Sa,[57]

Cried laughing little Er,[58]

Let us go to yonder broad blue deep,

Where the breakers foam and roar.

And on they scampered by valley and wood,

By earth and air and sky,

Till they came to a steep where the bare rocks stood,

In a precipice mountain high.

Inya![59] cried Er, here's a dreadful leap,

But we are gone so far,

That if we flinch and return in fear,

Nos,[60] he will cry ha! ha!

Now each was clad in a vesture light,

That floated far behind,

With sandals of frozen water drops,

And wings of painted wind.

And down they plunged with a merry skip,

Like birds that skim the plain;

And hey! they cried, let us up and try

And down the steep again.

And up and down the daughters skipped,

Like girls on a holiday,

And laughed outright, at the sport and foam

They called Niagara.

If ye would see a sight so rare,

Where nature's in her glee,

Go, view the spot in the wide wild west,

The land of the brave and free.

But mark--their shapes are only seen

In fancy's deepest play,

But she plainly shews their wings and feet

In the dancing sunny spray.

FOOTNOTES:

[54] Superior.

[55] Michigan.

[56] Huron.

[57] St. Claro.

[58] Erie.

[59] An exclamation of wonder and surprize.--_Odj. lan._

[60] My father.--_ib._

A PSALM.

OR SUPPLICATION FOR MERCY, AND A CONFESSION OF SIN, ADDRESSED TO THE

AUTHOR OF LIFE, IN THE ODJIBWA-ALGONQUIN TONGUE.

BY THE LATE MRS. HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT.

1. Gaitshe minno pimaudizzeyun, Gezha Monedo, gezhigong aibeyun.

2. Keen, maumauwaikumig waozhemigoyun.

3. Keen, kah ozhiéeyong, keen gaugegaikumig, kai nuhwaunemeyong,

aikoobemaudizzeyong.

4. Keen, kainuhwaubaimeyong, geezhig tibbikuk tibishko.

5. Keen, Keozheahn-geezhik-geezis, dibbik-geezis, aunungug gia.

6. Keen, kegeozhetoan tshe kimmewung, gia tshe annimikeeaug, tshe sai

sai yung, tshe sogepoog gia.

7. Keen kau ozheiyong tshe unnewegauboweyaung, kakinnuk kau ozheudjig

akeeng.

8. Kee, gemishemin odjechaugwug, wekaukaine bosigoog. Kee gemishemin

kebauzhigo kegwiss Jesus Christ, tshe oonjenebood neenowind.

9. Mozhug issuh nemudjee-inaindumin, kagait mozhug nemudjee-ekidomin;

nahwudj neminwaindumin tshe mudjee-dodumaung.

10. Kagaitego me kaisoondje izhauyaungebun mudjee Moneto.

11. Showainemishinaum, Gezha Monedo.

12. Showainemishinaum, Jesus Christ.

13. Maishkoodjetoan ne mudjee-odai-enaunin.

14. Meezhishenaun edush oushke odaiyun.

15. Apaidush nah saugeigsayun, gia dush todumaung kau izhe gugeekwayun.

16. Me ozhissinaum odaiyun tshe minwaindumaung, tshe annahme autogoyun.

17. Showainim neendunahwaitmaugunenaunig unishenaubaig.

18. Showainim kukinnuh menik pemaudizzejig akeeng.

19. Showainemishenaum kaidokoo pemaudizzeyong, appe dush neeboyong.

20. Showainemishenaum neen jeechaugonaunig tshe izhowaud keen.

21. Kaugegaikumig edush tshe menawaunegooz eyong ozaum ne

mudje-pemaudizzewin auno unnahmeyauyongin.

22. Kauween edush kewee pemaudizzewin, kishpin aitah appainemoyong

Kegwiss Jesus Christ.

23. Aioetainemud kegwiss showainemishenaum. Kunnah gai kunnah.

TRANSLATION.

1. Great good author of Life, Gezha Monedo, abiding in the heavens

2. Thou hast made all things.

3. Thou art the giver,--Thou, the everlasting preserver of life.

4. Thou hast guarded me, by day and by night.

5. Thou hast made the sun and moon, and the stars.

6. Thou makest the rain, the thunder, the hail, and the snows.

7. Thou didst make man to stand upright, and has placed him over all

that is on the earth.

8. Thou hast given us souls, that will never die. Thou hast sent thy son

Jesus Christ to die for us.

9. Continually are our thoughts evil, and truly, our words are evil

continually.

10. Verily, we deserve punishment with the Spirit of Evil.

11. Show pity on us, Gezha Monedo.

12. Show pity on us, Jesus Christ.

13. Reform our wicked hearts.

14. Give us new hearts.

15. May we love thee with all our hearts, and by our acts obey thy

precepts, (or sayings.)

16. Give us hearts to delight in prayer.

17. Show mercy to all our kindred, unishenaubaig, or common people,

(means exclusively the Red Men.)

18. Show mercy to all who live on the earth.

19. Pity us, and befriend us, living and dying.

20. And receive our souls to thyself.

21. Ever to dwell in thine abiding place of happiness.

22. Not in our own frail strength of life, do we ask this; but alone in

the name of Jesus Christ.

23. Grant us thy mercy, in the name of thy Son. So be it ever.

Those who take an interest in the structure of the Indian languages, may

regard the above, as an _improvised_ specimen of the capacity of this

particular dialect for the expression of scripture truth. The writer,

who from early years was a member of the church, had made a translation

of the Lords prayer, and, occasionally, as delicate and declining health

permitted, some other select pieces from the sacred writings, and hymns,

of which, one or two selections may, perhaps, hereafter be made.

* * * * *

The distinction between the active and passive voice, in the Odjibwa

language, is formed by the inflection ego.

Ne sageau, I love.

Ne sageau-ego, I am loved.

TRADITIONARY WAR SONGS

OF THE

ODJIBWA ALGONQUINS.

Whoever has heard an Indian war song, and witnessed an Indian war dance,

must be satisfied that the occasion wakes up all the fire and energy of

the Indian's soul. His flashing eye--his muscular energy, as he begins

the dance--his violent gesticulation as he raises his war-cry--the whole

frame and expression of the man, demonstrate this. And long before it

comes to his turn to utter his stave, or portion of the chant, his mind

has been worked up to the most intense point of excitement: his

imagination has pictured the enemy--the ambush and the onset--the

victory and the bleeding victim, writhing under his prowess: in

imagination he has already stamped him under foot, and torn off his

reeking scalp: he has seen the eagles hovering in the air, ready to

pounce on the dead carcass, as soon as the combatants quit the field.

It would require strong and graphic language to give descriptive

utterance, in the shape of song, to all he has fancied, and seen and

feels on the subject. He, himself, makes no such effort. Physical

excitement has absorbed his energies. He is in no mood for calm and

connected descriptions of battle scenes. He has no stores of measured

rhymes to fall back on. All he can do is to utter brief, and often

highly symbolic expressions of courage--of defiance--of indomitable

rage. His feet stamp the ground, as if he would shake it to its centre.

The inspiring drum and mystic rattle communicate new energy to every

step, while they serve, by the observance of the most exact time, to

concentrate his energy. His very looks depict the spirit of rage, and

his yells, uttered quick, sharp, and cut off by the application of the

hand to the mouth, are startling and horrific.

Under such circumstances, a few short and broken sentences are enough to

keep alive the theme in his mind; and he is not probably conscious of

the fact, that, to an unimpassioned and calm listener, with note book in

hand, there is not sufficient said to give coherence to the song. And

that such a song, indeed, under the best auspices, is a mere wild

rhapsody of martial thought, poured out from time to time, in detached

sentences, which are, so to say, cemented into lines by a flexible

chorus and known tune. The song and the music are all of a piece. Vivid

and glowing, and poetic pictures will float in such a train, and often

strike the imagination by their graphic truth and boldness; but the

poet must look elsewhere for finished melody, and refined and elaborate

composition.

The Indian is to be viewed here, as elsewhere, as being in the highest

state of his _physical_, not of his _mental_ phasis. Such glimmerings

may however be picked out of these warlike rhapsodies, as denote that he

is of a noble and independent tone of thinking. We shall at least enable

the reader to judge. The following specimens, which have been derived

from actors in the depths of the forest, consist of independent songs,

or stanzas, each of which is sung by a different or by the same warrior,

while the dance is in progress. The words have been taken down from a

young Chippewa warrior of lake Superior, of the name of Che che-gwy-ung.

It will be perceived that there is a unity in the _theme_, while each

warrior exercises the freest scope of expression. This unity I have

favoured by throwing out such stanzas as mar it, and afterwards

arranging them together.

WAR SONG.

_a._ In beginning this song the warrior has turned his eyes to the

clouds.

O shá wan ong (From the place of the south)

Un dos´ e wug, (They come,) _repeat_.

Pe nä´ se wug, (The birds, _i. e._ the warlike birds.)

Ka baim wai wá dung-ig. (Hear the sound of their passing screams

on the air.)

_b._ The idea of ravenous birds hovering in the sky, still prevails--

Tod ot´ to be (I wish to change myself to be)

Pe nä´ se. (A bird.)

Ka dow´ we á we yun´. (His swift body--to be like him.)

_c._ The warrior now rises above all thoughts of fear.

Ne wä be na, (I cast it away.)

Né ow a. (My body.)

Ne wá be na, (_Repeats._) This is a high symbolical boast

Né ow a. of personal bravery.

_d._ He appeals to the Great Spirit for extraordinary power.

Na bun á kum ig, (On the front part of the earth,)

Tshe bá be wish´ em ug. (First shines [strikes] the light.)

In do main´ em ik, (Such power to me,)

Mon´ e do, (My God,)

Shä wa nem id. (In thy mercy give!)

By the boldness of this figure he claims the omnipotent power of the sun

to see and discover his enemies.

_e._ He upbraids such of his people as hold back, and do not join in the

dance--that is to say, enlist in the war.

Wä go nain, e win? (Why do ye, warriors,)

A be yun ah, (Stand back?)

Wä wos is se, we yun. (Ye who bear the mark of the Awasees.)

The Awasee is a kind of fish, which is the _totem_ of a clan.

_f._ He declares his full purpose to enter into the war.

Ne má je, e yeh! (I go to the spot--the war path!)

Ne má je, e yeh! (_Repeats._)

Ne me kun ah, e yeh! (My war path!)

Ge zhig neen wá tin, (My sky is fair and clear.) The common

phrase to denote good fortune.

Hoh! Ne monedo netaibuätum (Let others linger. Onward! my

o win. God!--my right!)

In presenting these specimens of the original words of some of our

western warriors, we are permitted to give the annexed versions of them

from the pen of one of our most gifted writers.

WAR-SONG--"Pe-nä´ se-wug."

(From the Algonquin of Schoolcraft)

BY C. F. HOFFMAN.

I.

Hear not ye their shrill-piping screams on the air?

Up! Braves for the conflict prepare ye--prepare!

Aroused from the canebrake, far south by your drum,

With beaks whet from carnage, the Battle Birds come.

II.

Oh God of my Fathers, as swiftly as they,

I ask but to swoop from the hills on my prey:

Give this frame to the winds, on the Prairie below,

But my soul--like thy bolt--I would hurl on the foe!

III.

On the forehead of Earth strikes the Sun in his might,

Oh gift me with glances as searching as light.

In the front of the onslaught, to single each crest,

Till my hatchet grows red on their bravest and best.

IV.

Why stand ye back idly, ye Sons of the Lakes?

Who boast of the scalp-locks, ye tremble to take.

Fear-dreamers may linger, _my_ skies are all bright--

Charge--charge--on the War-Path, FOR GOD AND THE RIGHT.

Take the following additional example, of a death song. These stanzas

have all been actually sung on warlike occasions, and repeated in my

hearing. They have been gleaned from the traditionary songs of the

Chippewas of the north, whose villages extend through the region of lake

Superior, and to the utmost sources of the Mississippi. Those bands are

the hereditary foes of their western neighbours, the Dacotahs or Sioux,

who are generally called by them, by way of distinction, Na do wä´ sees,

that is to say, OUR ENEMIES. The allusions in the songs are exclusively

to them. In writing the original, I omit the chorus, as it is not

susceptible of translation, and would increase considerably the space

occupied.

DEATH SONG.

1. In opening this song the warrior is to be contemplated as lying

wounded on the field of battle.

A´ be tuh ge´ zhig, (Under the centre of the sky,)

Ne bá baim wä´ wä. (I utter my baim wä wä.)

Baimwäwä, is the sound of passing thunders, which will convey a just

idea of the violence of this figure.

2. His thoughts revert to the star of his destiny.

Ain dah´ so gezhig (Every day, thou star!)

Ke gá gun o wá bom in. (I gaze at you.)

It is the morning star that is here alluded to.

3. He sees the birds of carnage hovering over the field.

A´ be tuh geézh-ig (The half of the day)

Ai be yaun (I abide--gazing)

Pe nä se wug. (Ye warlike birds.)

4. He keeps the flight of these birds before his mind and hears their

shrill cries.

Pe misk wosh e wug (They fly round the circuit of the sky.)

Pe nä´ se wug (The birds--circling)

A´ be tuh geezh ig oag. (Round half the circuit of the sky.) The

meaning is, approaching him in circle,

more nearly, as life becomes fainter in

him.

5. This figure is continued. He lies bleeding.

A´ zha waush e wug (They cross the enemy's line)

Pe nä se wug. (The birds.)

6. He feels that he is called to another world.

A pit she Mon e doag (The high gods)

Ne mud wä wä (My praise)

Wá we ne goag. (They sound.)

7. He is content and willing to go.

Kä gait´, ne min wain´ dum (Full happy--I)

Ne bun aí kum ig (To lie on the battle-field)

Tshe bá be wish e naun. (Over the enemy's line.)

DEATH-SONG--"A´ be tuh gé zhig."

(From the Algonquin of Schoolcraft.)

BY C. F. HOFFMAN.

I.

Under the hollow sky,

Stretched on the Prairie lone,

Centre of glory, I

Bleeding, disdain to groan,

But like a battle cry

Peal forth my thunder moan,

_Baim-wä-wä_!

II.

Star--Morning-Star, whose ray

Still with the dawn I see,

Quenchless through half the day

Gazing thou seest me--

Yon birds of carnage, they

Fright not my gaze from thee!

_Baim-wä-wä!_

III.

Bird, in thine airy rings

Over the foeman's line,

Why do thy flapping wings

Nearer me thus incline?

Blood of the Dauntless brings

Courage, oh Bird to thine!

_Baim-wä-wä!_

Hark to those Spirit-notes!

Ye high Heroes divine,

Hymned from your god-like throats

That Song of Praise is mine!

Mine, whose grave-pennon floats

Over the foeman's line!

_Baim-wä-wä_!

WAR SONG.

Where are my foes? say, warriors, where? No forest is so black,

That it can hide from my quick eye, the vestige of their track:

There is no lake so boundless, no path where man may go,

Can shield them from my sharp pursuit, or save them from my blow.

The winds that whisper in the trees, the clouds that spot the sky,

Impart a soft intelligence, to show me where they lie,

The very birds that sail the air, and scream as on they go,

Give me a clue my course to tread, and lead me to the foe.

The sun, at dawn, lifts up his head, to guide me on my way,

The moon, at night, looks softly down, and cheers me with her ray.

The war-crowned stars, those beaming lights, my spirit casts at night,

Direct me as I thread the maze, and lead me to the fight.

In sacred dreams within my lodge, while resting on the land,

Bright omens of success arise, and nerve my warlike hand.

Where'er I turn, where'er I go, there is a whispering sound,

That tells me I shall crush the foe, and drive him from my ground.

The beaming WEST invites me on, with smiles of vermil hue,

And clouds of promise fill the sky, and deck its heavenly blue,

There is no breeze--there is no sign, in ocean, earth or sky,

That does not swell my breast with hope, or animate my eye.

If to the stormy beach I go, where heavy tempests play,

They tell me but, how warriors brave, should conquer in the fray.

All nature fills my heart with fires, that prompt me on to go,

To rush with rage, and lifted spear, upon my country's foe.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

The intent of the corrections listed below is to restore the text

to the author's intent, as best as that can be surmised.

Minor inconsistencies of punctuation have been resolved. On

occasion, the quotation marks, especially, have been added where

the quotation extends across paragraphs. If an ending mark has been

omitted, it has been added. Usually, but not always, a space is left

where a missing character should have appeared.

Clear typographical errors (e.g. "emcamped" for "encamped", "atlar"

for "altar") have also been corrected. A non-standard or variable

spelling has been left as printed, unless it is the sole instance

of a word repeatedly otherwise spelled (e.g. characterestic (1) /

characteristic (35)).

The spelling of names of persons and places, especially when derived

from Indian dialects vary considerably. For instance "Allegheny" is

also found multiple times as "Alleghany" and "Allegany". "Ottawa"

and "Ottowa" are each found several times. Nabinoi / Nabanoi /

Nabunwa seem to refer to the same Ojibwa elder. Nearly all such

variants are left as printed, except where explicitly noted below.

Words that were hyphenated at the ends of line have been joined

with or without the hyphen, depending on the frequency of the

word's spelling elsewhere. No attempt was made to regularize other

cases. They are kept as printed.

Corrections:

Characters that have been removed, corrected, or which have been

added are noted using [] as delimiters. Where misprinted characters

are changed, the original and corrected characters are noted as

[x/y], where x is the original. Punctuation corrections are not

included in this list.

Page| Correction | Comment

----+----------------------------------+------------------------------

7 | river at Brattleboro[,'/',] | The apostrophe may have been

| | meant as a contraction of

| | 'Brattleborough', which in

| | 1848 had yet to be

| | abbreviated. It should

| | precede the comma.

| |

19 | not two free | _sic_.

| |

40 | irridescen[t] | Added.

| brought us to a Mr. Murphy[']s | Added.

| |

42 | inj[u]re | Added.

| mounta[ni/in]ous | Added.

| |

44 | thus uniting character[e/i]stics | Corrected.

| of three varieties |

| |

48 | and valetudinarians[.] | Added.

| |

51 | Gascon[a]de | Added.

| |

52 | highten | _sic_.

| |

59 | e[m/n]camped | Corrected.

| |

71 | CONST[IT]UTION | Added.

| |

75 | som[e]times | Added.

| |

76 | horriffic | _sic_.

| |

83 | wife from that time[.] | Added.

| |

88 | On another [a/o]occasion | Corrected.

| |

93 | Senecas was discovered, turnin[g]| Added.

| |

102 | calling ou[t] | Added.

| |

114 | assured that th[s/e] cord | Corrected.

| |

124 | had made [u/a]n | Corrected.

| |

| many days pass[s]ed | Removed.

| |

145 | fate of their chiefta[i]n | Added to match spelling in

| | following line.

| |

148 | necessary to gla[n]ce backward | Added.

| |

153 | such a bloody fellow was | Line break hyphenation

| [al-]allowed | error corrected.

| |

179 | allowed a li[s/t]tle time to | Corrected.

| replenish: |

| |

189 | brass p[i]eces | Added.

| |

| Ozaw[a/á]biks | Corrected to match all other

| | occurences.

| |

193 | and [and ]not to throw | Line break repetition

| | removed.

| |

197 | ["]Having taught this man ... | Added continuing and end

| and what they must not do.["] | quotes.

| |

200 | INTERPR[E]TER | Added.

| |

203 | geogra[p/g]hical | Corrected.

| |

212 | a[tl/lt]ar | Corrected.

| |

225 | r[aph/hap]sodies | Corrected.

| |

227 | [oo] / [OO] | Represent the figure 8, set

| | horizontally, per FN on

| | p. 227.

| |

| My soul he doth restore aga[in] | Missing characters inferred.

| |

233 | modes of [of ]life | Line break error corrected.

| |

234 | the present [e/a]rea of | Corrected.

| |

250 | [t/T]hey are a brave and warlike | Corrected.

| people |

| |

252 | Lou[i]siana | Added.

| |

259 | Guadaxalara | _sic_--Guadalaxara?

| |

273 | the [the ]word itself | Line break repetition

| | removed.

| |

| "Söngedää" | Missing close quote.

| |

274 | Ke dizz[i]hewäbizziwin | Removed, based on following

| onishishin. | text.

| | Missing punctuation in tables

| | has been added for

| | consistency.

| |

280 | Ween ishkwa[n/u]dj, | Corrected based on

| He or she last. | adjacent text.

| |

282 | Pos[s]essive | Added 's' for consistency.

| |

288 | in upper Louis[ai/ia]na | Corrected to adjacent text.

| |

290 | s[t]eatites | Corrected to match all other

| | spellings.

| Michili[n/m]ackinac | Corrected to match all other

| | spellings.

| |

301 | [']Tis not enough! | Added.

| |

303 | r[yh/hy]me | Corrected.

| |

307 | succes[s]ful | Added to match all other

| | spellings.

| |

308 | [_c._] Waban is from ab, or | Italicized to match

| wab, light. | a., b., d.

| |

313 | char[a]cter | Added.

| |

319 | arr[r]ived | Removed.

| |

332 | with[ ]them | Added.

| |

| [e/a]quatic | Corrected.

| |

343 | retur[n]ed | Added.

| |

377 | ... the amount of funds invested | '0' added, consistent with 5%

| by the government in stocks, | interest rate. See similar

| for the Indians,was $2,580,000, | statements on p. 379.

| on which the annual interest |

| paid to them was $131,05[0]. |

| |

386 | Del[e/a]wares | Corrected.

| |

402 | Feb[r]uary | Added.

| |

404 | [E/C]. F. HOFFMAN. | Corrected, reference to

| | Charles Fenno Hoffman.

| |

415 | Blood of the Dauntless brings[*] | Two footnotes, anchored

| ... | on the following lines,

| Mine, whose grave-pennon | were not provided. To

| floats[*] | avoid confusion, the

| | anchors have been removed.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Indian in his Wigwam, by Henry R. Schoolcraft